Introducing myself

This was written in 2004 for a Creative Writing Seminar at University. The assignment was to introduce yourself by using a symbol or an object.

Of hippies and dots

I remember that it was fashionable in the nineties to wear a yin yang symbol around one's neck (or, in a more down-to-earth way, a stolen Mercedes sign). To me, the yin yang symbol was nothing but an annoying remainder of the Hippie age and its obsession with Asian esoterism. Now I dig it. Not that I would put it around my neck. But what I really like is the wonderful ambivalence of yin yang. The fact that totally opposing forces cannot be separated from each other.

Yin Yang consists of two wavy halves huddling against each other to form a circle. It is born out of the communion of lighter colour and darker colour. And that is how I came about. My Persian mother and my German father met somewhere in Africa and married shortly after. The union of a little black pearl and a white teddy bear yielded a girl who is neither oriental nor western, but a little bit of a Hippie.

I don't want to reduce yin yang to my parents' union, though. I said that totally opposing forces cannot be separated from each other. But parents can. They split up, leaving the inseparable union of colours and tempers inside of me and my sister. And in there, the white cannot be without the black. Symbolized in little dots, each phenomenon contains the seed of its opposite.

I can feel joy only because I know what pain is like. Even love is something I cannot fall into without a little element of fear, a little dot of sadness. I am a mega-extrovert who is plagued by occasional muteness. A clear yes is something I can hardly say without considering the no, without fear of having disregarded the possible no's. Sometimes, I can't even decide which seat to sit on when I get on a train. A clear rejection of a person is not possible for me because of their precious sides. Even my absolute and inner grief is interrupted by little traces of humour, faded and desperate as they may be.

A shabby industrial town like Halle is charming and disgusting to me. I find life beautiful in its absurdity. I'm Persian when I hate the Germans and I'm German when I hate the Persians. My extended family lives on four different continents, my cousins speak five languages, and I have no idiom to communicate with my grandparents. I am religious-because my parents have given me religion- but not so much when I am with the pious. I don't know if I am a strict believer in my heart or simply a lover of mankind, or whether that's the same thing. And yes, I can write a scientific paper because I switch perspectives by nature.

I don't know if this ambivalence makes my life interesting or complicated. I guess both. I'm working on getting the best out of it. To cherish the diversity I've been given and gain some peace of mind at the same time. And luckily, all conditions are subject to change. Knowing that is such a relief. This is the reason why I am alive. This is the reason why I look forward to what's happening next.