This postcard shows a tiny part of the resplendent Chehel Sotun – a pavilion, in the middle of a park at the far end of a long pool, in Isfahan, Iran. Built by Shah Abbas II as a place to receive guests and entertain them.
Visiting Isfahan and Shiraz was joyous – the colour, the art, the food, architecture, textures….the people. You would have loved it.
I have this, and other cards pinned on a cork board to remind me of a few things – things I’ve done, the richness that other cultures offer, and show my son that I’m more than ‘just’ a mum.
I was there during the UN’s Year of Mountains – a lifetime ago. It was a time when I would send myself postcards from places I’d been, with messages, notes, hopes and reminders to myself.
On the back of this one I’d included the names of great poets and thinkers from that era and area. Saadi, Hafiz, Ferdowsi. A prompt to look outside of what I was familiar with, comfortable with, so that I could learn, explore, experience – and be – more.
That summer I had climbed Mount Damavand – the highest mountain in the region. To give you a sense of just how high it is, it was sweltering when we made our way through the capital Tehran in August, but the summit was frozen. It’s as high as Kilimanjaro – but much steeper. One day I’ll get round to writing up what happened on that trip… #PostToCome. My friends and I had stayed on after the climb to explore more of the country.
I’m sharing this because if we sink into the mire that is the news-churn, we’re in danger of disengaging from people, life, cultures – places and people that are destroyed and killed off by war, famine, embargo, or sometimes just through the act of alienating them. We’re desensitised to the struggle, consequence and price paid by so many. It’s happening again in Iran. Whatever you think of the government’s politics, or the nation’s aspirations, it is a place of beauty, wonder, and true discovery.
I have fond memories of the place – I learned so much about it, and myself when I visited. The mementoes scattered around my home celebrate Iran’s culture, and what it can teach us.
One day I hope to go back.
Writing postcards to yourself is a wonderful idea. I wish I had thought of that ages ago. But it is never too late to start, is it…
It isn’t too late! Make this Day One of writing a postcard to yourself. Go out. Buy one. Write a note to yourself – and post it to yourself (very important I find.. you have to receive it via post ). If you’re up for it, share your postcard here – let’s start a movement!