Remarkable Moments of July.

Sunset swims on a cliff in Muratpasa. I had filled my pockets with blackberries, and my fingertips were a deep purple. I wore a slip dress with no bra or underwear and changed beneath my striped towel once we reached the stones at the lip of the sea. Four boys wearing Converse dove from the peak, and fishermen teased the lines where there were flat rockfaces to stand on. Emma and Aida went to the shade to eat their sushi, and I strode into the sunlight to set my bag and berries. I ate with my face tipped to the sun and let the berries warm in my palms before popping them one at a time into my mouth.

The entry to the ocean was covered in moss, and I slid on my bottom, not inelegantly though nothing was graceful about it. We had the aircon turned up in the car on the drive, and my body was still a bit shocked by the transition from cold to hot. The water was warm, and it was the middle moment I'd been craving. Emma took pictures of me, and I didn't recognize myself. The girl in the photographs looked too skinny and sad to be me, but the girl's said, you look great! I don't disbelieve them. I don't think I see myself the way I am.

Aida smoked at the bar with her hand held out like a French girl and said, I've only had two cigarettes today. We ordered cocktails, and I wanted tequila, but there was none, so I had an Aperol spritz. The bartender was very young and kept looking at me behind these dark sunglasses, so I flirted a bit, and he dropped the tray of glasses he'd been carrying and cut his wrist. When he brought us our bills, a thick bandage was wrapped around his left forearm. I am a terrible seductress.

How does one practice sending a transmission? Georgina tasked me with observing when I was being seduced or if a deeper message was conveyed. The question I've been asking is if the event creates more spaciousness or a contraction around my heart. Some people take longer to be with for me to feel the intent. Other times, I can sense it immediately and move away from the constriction. A levity, a roominess, arrives through some people's actions and personalities. I just want to make people feel good about themselves; that is my only intent when spending time with people.

One night we all sat out on the terrace and talked about Love. There was myself, Aida, Emma, Filiz, and Morris—the family. I feel so at home here in the wooden hut. It's a bit odd to think that I have to go. We all sat with our water bottles, and Morris rolled something, and Filiz said, love is about working on yourself; it is about change.

The quiet storm, Filiz. She practices reiki, and I felt it before she told me about her experience. I taught a yoga class outside on the terrace, my second, for a group of her friends. At the end of the class, I rubbed my palms with the oil I purchased in Marseille and gave each person a short reiki treatment. It is always a surprise what appears to me when I engage in this technique with people I do not know well. I went to six women and two men; there were three people I could not get to because of their angle on the patio. I asked people to turn their heads toward the middle so they were lying facing me, though three went the opposite way, and their faces were too close to the edge of the patio, and there was no space for me to work.

I do not trust people who do not speak directly with me. It is a sign of subtle manipulation, the withholding of information. I can feel it; this much I have discovered through my reiki practice. It doesn't take long for the truth to be revealed to me through energy. Some people want things to be murky. I want to be around those who push the clouds out of the way to make a path for the light to come through.

Morris and Filiz are very honest. They are transparent. There is no stickiness or uneven residue around either of them. I could sense this in my daily interactions, through messages and polite encounters in the garden. Though, it really showed up when I went to them as they rested in Savasana.

When I went to Filiz, I squatted by her head and held my palms over her face. I closed my eyes and filled myself with light. Then I opened my eyes and watched her abdomen. I always check the depth of breath to see how people adjust and settle as I send them reiki. Filiz had softened, and her breath was deep. She took long, slow inhales and exhales. I shifted my palms to either side of her face to align my hands with each temple. I closed my eyes to shift my attention to the sensation between my palms rather than what I could see in Filiz's expression.

My hands became very hot very quickly. The warmth spread from my palms up my forearms to my elbows. The color that appeared was a soft yellow. It felt like small popcorn kernels lightly jumping in a pan. I was about to place each hand under her head to massage her neck, though I thought not to because of the electric current between us. I held the line lightly and breathed with her for several moments. The sensation in my hands was so strong, and I think it may have been her auric field. So clear and pure, ringing like a large golden bell at the top of a tower. This is Filiz. All week long, this bell waits for the rough rope to be pulled so it can chime its song over the hillside to express how wonderful it is to be alive!

A large breakfast was served after the yoga class, and a man exclaimed, I did not know there was to be food! It is the best part, I replied, and he winked at me.

There were several types of bread, cheese, olives, cookies, jams, and oils with vege salads dusted with dill. Turkish tea was served with the breakfast, and the coffee we took afterward with hazelnut Lokum. We sat under the dappling light at the table, and a few girls took photographs, and we discussed the things that make us happy. It got hot around noon, and the group dispersed. A few to their homes, two couples to the river, and me to my mat, where I did my own practice to release what I'd absorbed.

Photo source.