The other day, my sister sent me a video; a talk by Gündüz Vassaf. He said something that stirred something inside me.
“We are all born mad,” he said. “But it is hard to stay mad.”
At first, I laughed when I heard it. Then I stopped.
Because it’s true. Look at a child they dance without fear, laugh for no reason, draw without rules. No one calls them “mad,” because they haven’t yet learned what it means to be “normal.” That freedom, that lack of rules, that creativity… it’s all still intact. The world hasn’t yet forced its shape onto them.
Then comes order. School comes, expectations come, “that’s not how it’s done” comes. One day you realize you’ve softened your laughter, toned down your ideas, quietly stepped back from everything that makes you feel like you’re contradicting yourself. We call this growing up. But in reality, we are letting things go one by one because we are made to.
And the saddest part is, we do it without even noticing.
This is exactly what Vassaf meant: madness is not a diagnosis. It is the state of those who refuse to fit into society’s molds, those who have not yet silenced the child within them. It is not a deviation, but in fact the purest, most honest form of existence.
I sometimes hear that voice too. On my yoga mat, in silence, with my breath. In the middle of movement, when my mind becomes quiet and my body starts to speak. In those moments, something happens—my defenses drop, I lose control a little, and layers slowly fall away. And underneath, I meet someone who has always been there, waiting. Small, curious, free. Someone who is not trying to be like anyone else.
In that moment, I am alone with myself. I want to know myself, understand myself, but sometimes this journey turns into a race. I start competing with myself—be better, work more, feel more. Then I stop. Because I realize this is also a pattern. Even chasing “better” can sometimes silence that free child inside me. What matters is to keep hearing that voice without harming myself, staying at peace with myself. Not to be perfect, just to exist. I no longer try to shape it down. Instead, I try to make space for it. Because I’ve realized that the deepest healing, the most honest creativity, and the most real connection all come from that child.
Maybe the real issue is this: not losing your “madness.” Keeping that childlike, free, ruleless creativity alive no matter how much order comes over you, no matter how much life tries to shape you.
Do you still have that child in you? When was the last time you heard it?
Melis Gence
Instagram: @melispurelife
E-Mail: a.melisgence@gmail.com
