Another Sleepless Night

Another sleepless night...

The outer ring 16 sections, the middle part 8, and the inner part 5…

Ekrem was staring up at the ceiling, counting the plaster molding patterns. What his friend had hinted at the other day was really bothering him. For days now, his mind had been running wild with different scenarios. In his mind, he’d been putting the other person in their place in his head. But he still couldn’t shake off the anxiety.

He’d woken up really late this morning and couldn’t get rid of the laziness that came with it. He’d only found himself in this kind of mood a few times in his life—usually after some tough, secret, high-stake operations abroad.

He’d worked for forty years in the army and had retired as a major general. Rules and structure were more than just a part of his life—they were his life.

But now? Now it felt like he was rowing against the current. He couldn’t figure out how he had ended up like this. He was overthinking everything, worrying about everything. He was in a really bad mood. The phrases like "I feel suffocated" or "I feel so heavy inside" used to sound ridiculous to him. He thought they were childish, but now he was living it. And it felt like a nightmare. How could something so small—just one word—keep him up for days? This wasn’t like him. Definitely not Iron Ekrem, -his nickname in the army-.

If his soldiers saw him like this, they’d never believe it. His whole life had been fast-paced and structured.. He didn’t like getting stuck on things. Tough feedback or harsh orders from his superiors didn’t throw him off—they pushed him harder. He was someone who knew exactly what he was doing. His soldiers trusted and respected him because of that. He loved his job, and he loved his country and the soldiers he had been entrusted with.

But he’d had to retire from the army. His health just wasn’t letting him continue. And this change in life made him feel vulnerable, anxious even.

He got out of bed and put on the clothes he’d laid out the night before. He didn’t feel like having breakfast. First, he wanted to take a walk. With his crisp shirt, brushed coat, and polished shoes, he looked as imposing as ever. Even the doorman, Orhan Efendi, greeted him with a respectful "Good morning, sir."

As he crossed the street, a car honked right by him, snapping him back to reality. Yes, he’d zoned out again, and this absent-mindedness was starting to cost him.

Once at the cemetery, he sat down in a corner, getting lost in his thoughts again. "I’m really glad I’m retired," he thought. "Otherwise, with this absent-mindedness, I could’ve made some serious mistakes. I wonder if Güzin has picked up on what I’m thinking?" Even if she couldn’t see it, or hear it, he always told her every little detail when he visited his wife. Since retiring, he’d been going to her grave more often.

His wife, who had passed away from cancer, was his soft spot. Unlike Ekrem, she had been calm, warm, and full of peace. It had been exactly thirteen years since he had lost her.

"I haven’t been able to sleep for months, and I miss you," he said aloud. "Maybe it was Sinan’s stupid joke that annoyed me. He said, 'You’re obsessed with your health.' And it’s not just Sinan—everyone seems to be getting on my nerves. I don’t even understand why I’ve become like this. You, with your perfect memory, would even remember what you had for lunch yesterday."

Even though his heart condition was getting worse, his mind had always been sharp. But this recent decline didn’t make sense to him. After reading some articles, he decided, "This must be brain fog." And it had turned him into someone more anxious, obsessive, and depressed.

The Experiential Design Teaching says, "Everything that stands still, decays."

The more a person stays stagnant, the more they start to fall apart. The old saying "A rolling stone gathers no moss" is true for a reason.

He remembered his wife’s words: "If you didn’t have such a busy, hectic life, you’d be fighting with yourself." He smiled involuntarily. He stood up from the cold concrete, touched the roses on the grave, and gently ran his fingers over each petal, as if he were touching her hair. "You were always right. Yes, I can’t sit still. Laziness isn’t for me. No matter how old I get, I have to stay productive."

He had received a job offer from a university and was excited about it. The title of "Defense Management Professor" sounded impressive. Being around young, hopeful students would be good for him. "I should head home and think about it more, maybe make the lessons a bit more theoretical," he thought.

"Movement brings abundance."

Since retiring, he couldn’t find much to talk to Güzin about. Who knows what he’d experience with this new, exciting job? But it was clear his days would be pretty busy. Maybe his midweek visits to her would shift to weekends. After long days, he might even sleep better at night.

Since his wife’s passing, he wanted to shake off the laziness that had come with both retirement and his loneliness. Assuming that he would have had her approval, somehow made him feel better.

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