Gifts

Getting to know someone new is a gift.

Lying on my bed to write something is a gift.

Having a meal with ingredients that aren’t often happily combined together in one plate is a gift.

Drinking as much water from the cooler at my workplaces is a gift.

Lying back-to-back, side-by-side, face-to-face with my stuffed koala is a gift.

Drinking a mug of black coffee listening to music at a cafe with a sea view is a gift.

Keeping to myself in my accommodation any time I’m there is a gift.

Eating rice more than once a day is a gift.

My hairbrush is a gift (because my hair is thick, coarse and used to often get tangled so much so that there were a few times when someone or two people would work hard to undo the knots in my hair with my feeling sorry for myself).

Visiting the stuffed animals section at a toy store is a gift.

People giving me their life experiences in the form of their words is a gift.

Seeing stray cats sleeping confidently in their contorted positions is a gift.

Hearing from people who understand that I’m sad because I’m frustrated that many people around me don’t know what’s right when I do is a gift.

Keeping up with men on long walks and hikes is a gift.

Having access to a sit-down toilet, toilet paper, a sink and a soap dispenser is a gift (quite often, public restrooms all over China didn’t have all those things particularly toilet paper and soap in the soap dispenser. Sit-down toilets weren’t prevalent a lot of the time and existed just a tad bit more than toilet paper and soap. Memories…).

Not having serious skin diseases (in my opinion, eczema counts as a serious skin disease; my brother has it and it looks ruthless) is a gift.

Sitting in an air-conditioned place in the summer is a gift.

Going a day unharmed, undisturbed is a gift.

Having skin without many scars is a gift.

Wearing comfortable shoes is a gift.

Going on holiday abroad every year is a gift.

Living in a city is a gift (a city with big, green parks is even better, though; Istanbul badly needs them).

Choosing between various forms of public transport is a gift.

Gaining a new private student is a gift (one new person with a whole set of experiences and a voice is huge for me).

Having nails that are never brittle is a gift (I can’t imagine feeling what thin nails feel like).

Walking for hours without getting tired is a gift.

Any kind of praise is a gift.

Any book of mine sold is a gift (it’s about people giving me their time to listen to what I have to say).

Anyone who follows my words is a gift.

Having hair that grows fast is a gift.

Sleeping on a bed is a gift.

Having machine that work for me is a gift.

Having no one control my movement, having no one burden me, having no one to sacrifice for often is a gift.

Having a connection at home (even when they are grumpy) is a gift.

Having five senses that work equally well is a gift.

Someone having faith in me is a gift.

Having no one who hates me so much that they want to kill me or malign me is a gift.

Walking on grass is a gift.

Waking up to a new day is a gift.

Playing Scrabble is a gift.

Knowing everything I know is a gift.

Time is a gift.

Living in a circumstance which enables me to maximize my health is a gift.

Coming from a family that is nowhere similar to me is a gift.

Watching adorable Turkish men going about their day (particularly the big ones) is a gift.

Hearing non-native English speakers speak is a gift (I don’t like the way Americans sound nowadays; other native English speakers are okay).

People understanding that I’m still coherent and sane despite all that I write is a gift.

Not being able to communicate with people sometimes is actually a gift (I prefer to be in my own world quite a lot).

Getting a ‘hello’ from someone is a gift.