Imagine a world of a single color, or shades of gray. That would have been pretty dull, simply put. How can contrasts, colors at very different wavelengths come together in a specific way and look pretty? A pink rose popping on a green stem, the moon light in midnight darkness, white cloud on blue sky, mallard on a pond, coral reef underwater, snow piled on brown tree branches. What is it that the human eye or the aesthetic pleasure center in the brain is looking for? What is it that we are chasing when we spend money to visit some unique sight seeing places? Or a piece of music playing the same note.. even if at varying rhythm, same note will be boring after a while. How can a specific combination of notes make “music”, does not itch ears, or even reach the pleasure state in the brain? There is a craving for variability to hit the aesthetic pleasure. Hardship in differences At the same time, when one color or style is off, we can spot it and say this does not fit with the rest. So we need things to vary but still come from a set of suitable candidates. So the distribution has constraints. Variability within limits. There is still a craving for harmony. How do these observed tendencies impact human behavior? I could be a little different, but still should be in general agreement with the rest. What would it cost to be unique and fearless? There is a Turkish saying, for a sheep that leaves the herd, would be captured by a wolf. How about opinions or different practice? Do they always mean conflict, disapproval or a force to change the other? Could we feel perfectly content in a room full of ideas pulling in different directions? Beauty in hardship How does rarity also add to the definition of beauty? A rare emerald stone is definitely more expensive but does that mean it is more beautiful? Outliers can also earn a special spot. Would we have enjoyed our lives if there was no hardship? “Congratulations you won” on everything, all traffic lights are green, nothing to worry about, maybe nothing to try harder for and nothing to look forward to. There is a harmony of the balance of differences and hardships that keep life interesting and challenging to pursue. Maybe this is tailored to human brain, maybe human brain adopted to this heterogeneity. What is different for you today? Did you notice any beauty in it? What was a hardship that you actually enjoyed? I would love to hear your perspective 👍

I’ve been thinking about the difference between courage and faking it. Can someone be called courageous even if she is, in some way, pretending? Another image comes to mind—a bird (why do I always imagine birds?). This bird claims to be strong, but if you gently lift her feathers, you see carefully placed, inflated balloons instead of muscles. It’s a way of appearing strong. It doesn’t have to be about physical strength, but the image makes the idea easier to see. Chat GPT imagined a different version: So what does “fake it till you make it” really mean? If we were completely honest all the time, would we risk losing? Looking weak? Is there an expectation of “role-playing” as we move through life and try to get what we want? For example, could you persuade your husband to do something he would otherwise not agree to? If that sounds reasonable, then where does authenticity fit in? Is life full of small performances and carefully chosen behaviors? What about social pressure and the need to belong? Can someone truly be authentic if that authenticity doesn’t align with the norms of their social circle? Would you feel comfortable sharing your thoughts if you knew you would face strong disapproval? Or would you slowly begin to adjust—silently reshaping your thoughts to fit in? And if so, do you gradually lose the courage to hold different opinions? Do people change depending on the circles they enter? And what is a “norm,” really, if it shifts from one group to another? If you resist, is that courage—or simply being seen as unfit? Imagine a social norm where you’re expected to serve six homemade dishes at a gathering. If that doesn’t align with your values or energy, how much resistance do you feel? Maybe it comes down to what matters more: meeting the need for social adaptation, or maintaining alignment between your values and your actions. Most of us probably live somewhere in between, moving back and forth. Courage might be the voice that stops us when our integrity feels compromised—when we think, “This is too much.” Yesterday, while we were walking, my daughter asked for a new pair of Crocs. I asked, “Does it have to be real Crocs, or anything that looks like them?” She said, “It’s better if it’s the real one.” That reminded me of my childhood. We used to buy sweatpants from street bazaars—imitations of well-known brands. They would still say “Adidas,” but not quite the “real” version. In Turkish, other kids used to joke about this by saying, “Is this Adidas, or ‘aadi das’? (fake-das)”—a humiliating way of pointing out you got it from the bazaar. So what is it about authenticity when it comes to brands? Why do we value the “real” product over a careful imitation that costs much less? When I was living in Türkiye, this felt like a big social signal. Wearing original brands suggested wealth; wearing bazaar versions revealed something about your financial reality. I remember watching a documentary that said the cost of making sunglasses is often quite similar, yet the price can range from $10 to hundreds of dollars. So what makes us stop at $10—or keep going? There is a hidden paradox here, if I try to be authentic and wear real brands, I am also not authentic to myself because I am wasting extra money to produce an image that does not align with my values. In The Psychology of Money, Morgan Housel touches on this idea. He suggests that showing off what you spend actually highlights what you no longer have. Real wealth is what you save—quietly, invisibly. Luxury spending, especially when driven by ego, can become a kind of trap. You try to look rich, but in doing so, you spend more and feel more pressure, all while maintaining an image, you become gradually poor. He shares an example of Rihanna, who nearly went broke at one point due to financial mismanagement. Her advisor reportedly said, “Did someone need to tell her that if she keeps buying the things she wants, she’ll end up with the things—not the money?” So perhaps this is about balance, not just wealth. Ronald Read—a janitor and gas station attendant who quietly became a millionaire through disciplined saving—is an extreme but powerful example. We don’t all need to be Ronald Read, but there might be a potential for added savings when we accept to care less about what other people think of us. Wearing fake imitations might seem like a solution in that sense. But how about the flip side, faking emotions, knowledge, thoughts, strength.. That feels inauthentic in a similar way. Deliberately being authentic and rude is also not going to work all the time. A paradox loop that goes on and on. In our search for authenticity that clicks, in trying to be ourselves without becoming outsiders in our circles, maybe there is a middle ground—a place where we can exist as ourselves, aligned with our values, virtues and goals. Remember this alignment is one of key correlates of happiness in life. This was what was floating in my brain this morning, how about yours? Until next time "Aadi" yos, friends :)

Tonight we watched The Pursuit of Happyness at home during movie time. Will Smith delivers an incredible performance, capturing the emotional weight of poverty while also showing something even more powerful—resilience. That quiet, stubborn determination to keep going, no matter how many times life pushes back. From https://medium.com/@LilyLii/a-dive-into-the-pursuit-of-happiness-106090232749 His job is to sell these expensive bone density scanners to doctors. Just selling two in a month would be enough to cover basic expenses like groceries. But the sales don’t come. Instead, things fall apart one by one. He loses some of the machines while rushing through city buses, constantly moving, constantly trying, yet failing again and again. At home, the pressure builds. His wife, overwhelmed and exhausted, eventually leaves. The landlord kicks them out. And still—he keeps going. What struck me most was not just the hardship, but his focus. In the middle of all this chaos, he is laser-focused on getting an internship at a stock brokerage firm. He keeps showing up. He asks people simple but powerful questions: “What do you do? And how do you do it?” He waits outside the building just for a chance to talk to a manager. One day, he manages to ride in a cab with one of the firm's partners. During that ride, coincidental but as an unrelated opportunity, he solves a Rubik’s cube that the man had been struggling with. It’s not his resume. Not his background. Not his experience. It’s his persistence—and his ability to solve a problem—that leaves an impression. Watching his journey made me stop and think: What does it mean to "pursue" happiness? Do we have to chase happiness to get it? The Bird That Carries Us I started imagining it like this: A wild, tropical bird—colorful, strong, flying forward with purpose. And I am riding on it. Each part of the bird represents something different. The left wing is support and trust—family, friends, even pets. The quiet forces that keep us balanced when things feel unstable. The right wing is financial stability and mental health. Without these, flight becomes shaky, unpredictable. In that case, laser focus on goals and the resilience helps (as in the movie). The legs of the bird are effort and resilience. The ability to keep pushing, to keep trying, to stand back up after failure. And the bird’s head—its direction—is everything: Goals, dreams, meaningful contributions. That thing in the distance that gives the flight a reason. But the bird is not flying in still air. There are winds. On one side, forces that can push down—risk, rejection, feeling unqualified, being excluded, comparing ourselves to others. On the other side, forces that lift and help —luck, opportunity, being supported, starting a little ahead, being seen. So the question becomes: How Do We Keep Flying? Maybe it’s not about perfect conditions. Maybe it’s about learning how to move with what we have. We lean on support when we feel weak. We build stability from within when things outside are uncertain. We keep showing up—even when results don’t come immediately. We adjust. We adapt. We try again. And maybe most importantly, we learn to let go—of comparison, of the feeling of being behind, of the constant voice saying “I am not enough.” The Equation of Happiness In the book The Psychology of Money, Morgan Housel presents a simple equation that inspired me: Happiness = Results – Expectations Such a simple idea—but so powerful. So we DO have a lever here. If I cannot always change my results, maybe I can adjust my expectations. Because the opposite is also true. We can easily make ourselves unhappy by constantly increasing expectations. Wanting more. Comparing upward. Looking at the “next table.” The book talks about people who had everything—wealth, success—but kept chasing more, looking at billionaires while being millionaires, and eventually losing everything. Not because they didn’t have enough—but because they didn’t know where to stop. The Power of “Enough” The lever to keep the expectations balanced is to say "Enough". What I have is enough. What I’ve done is enough. Where I am right now… can be enough. I remember as a child, struggling with washing dishes cleanly—and my mom would say, “Good enough.” Enough is not giving up. It’s knowing where to stop asking for more. What Money Really Gives Another idea from the book: The greatest intrinsic value of money is not luxury—it’s freedom. Freedom, flexibility, and time. The freedom to choose.The flexibility to adjust your life.The time to focus on what truly matters. And those three things are deeply connected to happiness. In that case we can definitely say money will make us happier. In Var Misin? Dogan Cuceloglu lists many factors unrelated to happiness: age, gender, being beautiful or not, IQ level, education level. There are 7 things, including money are correlated with happiness: 1) Family relationships 2) Up to a certain point: income ($60k/year.) 3) Finding your job meaningful 4) Close friendships 5) The courage to exist and be independent 6) Health 7) The alignment between your values and your actions So there is a correlation of money with happiness in second place, mostly for giving us the power to regulate our time. Secondly, in Rewired, Nick Ortner says "our relationship with money" is one of the biggest stressors, so in a way money can release the mental distress due to our bodies' survival instinct in our modern daily life. We are not being chased by bears, but bills and credit cards. Up to a certain point, yes, money correlates with happiness. Conversely, what about "greed?" and keep asking for more? Does that correlate with sadness? This brings us back to the "enough" point. Letting Go of the Self There is a Turkish saying: “Without a goal, the mind is filled with self.” When we don’t have a direction, we turn inward too much. We compare. We overthink. We feel behind. We question our worth. But when we move toward something meaningful, towards something bigger than ourselves, that noise quiets down. Back to The Flight There are many things we cannot control. The winds will not always cooperate. The path will not always be clear. But we are not powerless. With what we do have—a direction (laser focused), a willingness to adjust (using the lever), and the resilience to keep going (this was good enough)—we can hopefully continue flying toward something meaningful.

I woke up at 5 am to write this blog :) Like the lady in Guldur Guldur show. If you have watched this episode, you will understand the joke here. She says she woke up at 5 am to make bread for her husband, she made the eggs from scratch herself, even the water from scratch putting H and O together :) No worries, we are not going to talk about "that" level of productivity. I wanted to share one insight I have gathered observing my CGM (continuous glucose monitor, you can also buy some here for yourself). And yes, you can wear a CGM as a healthy person! I will give an example of a productive day. For me this is maybe an uninterrupted focused writing day, being able to finish a good chunk in a paper. There have been days like this where I could write a whole introduction, or 1/2 of results, while needing to edit or redo figures or reanalyze the data. What you can notice in this graph is that the blood glucose fluctuations were not very high in magnitude and they were short lived. This (somehow) improved my focus and productivity. To get to this quietness level, my total carbs needed to stay pretty low (~50-55 gr/day). The sleep quality feels better, although I do not have sufficient data to compare. However, if I make slightly worse choices and eat things that give me "spikes"; I start seeing some purple mountains. This could be like eating one little brownie like topkek as one of my childhood memories. Just one spike per day is still (I guess) manageable and does not redirect a lot of brain energy to other avenues. But things get louder if I have 3 spikes in a day. Then I find myself googling for some other childhood indulgences that I urgently and truly need. How can I get the Sultan Market in NJ to ship me some of their delicious eclairs? I ordered some food from Turcamart, only to notice the package is shipped from Bursa Turkiye. Oops, I did not pay attention. I guess you can see the rest of the story. The higher and wider the peaks are, the bigger toll on mental clarity, productivity and overall happiness. The sadness can bring in the big peaks as well as big peaks in return amplify the phantom reasons for sadness. I am noticing there is a clear link with my glucose spikes and my productivity and happiness. This is not my invention. Glucose goddess wrote about a research study describing associations of mood swings, moodiness, risk of depression in women. Similar increased risk of depression for diabetic people was reported before. There is clearly a connection that other people noticed documented as well. From a practical stand point: is it too hard to maintain a pretty flat curve everyday? There is a some difficulty, but there are helpful resources. I started by reading 10 glucose hacks that Jessie is describing here. Logistically, I had to switch from normal bread to Hero breads and chocolate bars to Nick's protein bars or Trubars (these two are recommended by my new dietician Helen Harloe) or Nola Bars. Taking vinegar pills, Jessie's anti spike pills, fiber pills, adding grape vinegar to my salads, peanut butter with no sugar, eating 1 tbsp of tahini per day, adding coconut oil to my coffee, making keto pancakes, a keto brownie, and something I have recently discovered (from my friend Ebru) using the eincorn flour. instead of regular genetically modified wheat flour. It sounds like the "original untouched wheat" is good and on the contrary also the resistant wheat that has been engineered to not be broken down. There are simpler solutions to lower your peaks, such as drinking lots of water, squeezing in 15 jumping jacks or 20 squats, taking a short walk in the evening. But considering the load of life, sometimes it is simpler to just not get started on the peak, rather than trying to bring it down costing extra time. To keep the total carbs down, I had to pretty much quit on fruits. I remember having a real difficult time keeping loyal to my diet list when I had several medjoul dates in day. Nowadays, I would sometimes eat blackberries from our back yard and that is pretty much it. I am sure there are a ton of other beneficial things that I have not discovered yet. There is also a possibility that some of these things might have detrimental ingredients that I have not learned yet. One such ingredient is Sodium Nitrite. How come no one told me about it? It is used as a preservative in sausages. My kids grew up eating many. Now we are searching for options without Sodium Nitrite, which is a challenge. There was the Sultan Market in NJ which carried some butcher's sausage. There is always the option to make it yourself. I am teaching my son his responsibilities in life. He says out: "I take the responsibility of feeding my body." Maybe I should say it along and if you will, you can join me as well: "I take the responsibility of feeding my body well." Until next time, take care my friend. PS: CGMs could show a glucose number lower than what you would measure using a finger prick to measure your "blood" glucose, since they use the "interstitial fluid" rather than blood itself. Still the patterns and purple peaks are telling a story. PS2: These are personal insights and are not meant to be medical advice. Please consult your physician for medical guidance.

How should we live this life? This is the question floating around in my head as we drive back home from New Jersey. During this trip, we visited what felt like two extremes of a normal distribution: the American Dream Mall and an Amish Village. I'll describe both experiences, but first let me explain what I mean by "two extremes on a normal distribution plot." You've probably heard statements like, "Assuming the samples have a Gaussian distribution, we can perform this statistical test." Yes, this is the same normal distribution I'm talking about. If we could somehow plot all the different ways people choose to live their lives, and if that distribution happened to be normal, we might find some people living near the center and others living at the far extremes. There can be scientific value in studying the extremes. As geneticist Helen Hobbs famously pointed out, important discoveries often come from studying outliers. So let's see what we can learn today. The American Dream American Dream is a gigantic mall containing everything from Nickelodeon attractions to indoor skiing and luxury shops you may or may not need. The desire to satisfy and stimulate every possible neuron is evident. The indoor amusement park is packed with rides. Because it's indoors, the constant screaming of excited children echoes throughout the space, creating an almost overwhelming level of stimulation. The architects had to be incredibly creative to fit all the twisting roller coasters into the building without having them collide with one another. Once your brain is fully stimulated, you get to choose: do I want even more excitement by being flipped upside down while falling sideways at high speed? For my son, however, the most exciting attraction wasn't the giant roller coasters. It was the Paw Patrol Lookout. We spent most of our time there. Watching people move through the mall was fascinating. They would emerge from one store and immediately dive into the next. The only other place we absolutely had to visit was the Lego store. The Lego experience is interesting because it successfully satisfies our need to be creative while simultaneously encouraging us to follow detailed instructions. Somehow, both needs are fulfilled at the same time. The Amish Village After satisfying our Turkish cravings at several Turkish markets, we drove to the Thomas the Tank Engine event. Following a peaceful ride with Thomas, we headed to the Amish Village Museum, where we were given a guided tour of an Amish home. I learned that Amish communities were originally invited to Pennsylvania to escape religious conflicts in Europe. Today, tens of thousands of Amish people live in Pennsylvania. They follow a branch of Christianity that emphasizes simplicity, humility, and devotion to God. Their goal is to remove distractions from life whenever possible. In that context, electricity, technology, and many of the conveniences we take for granted can be viewed as distractions. Imagine living without a phone. They largely live without electricity. Some communities have found practical solutions, such as using power generated from nearby streams for limited purposes, or gasoline-powered devices such as lamps and irons. Inside the house, there was a boys' room and a girls' room. Multiple children shared each room. There was only one mirror in the kitchen, and it was primarily used by the father while shaving. Looking at oneself in the mirror too often is considered vain. As I thought about this, I couldn't help comparing it to my daughters' vanity tables, complete with lights and accessories. The Amish clothing also carries simple messages about a person's stage in life. One tradition that I found particularly elegant involves young women reaching marriage age. Around sixteen, they begin wearing a more decorative style of dress that signals they are ready to begin considering potential husbands. What I found especially interesting was that the young woman plays an active role in the process. She is expected to evaluate potential husbands and determine whether they possess the character and practical skills needed to build a family. Eventually they marry, raise children, farm, and continue many of the same traditions that have existed for generations. But what if someone decides they no longer want to be Amish? They can leave. And what if someone wants to become Amish? That is also possible, although it requires a deep understanding of their faith and way of life. There is evolution within Amish traditions as well. One example we learned was that young children no longer spend hours shaking milk by hand to make butter, a task that used to be common. Even simplicity evolves. Where Do I Stand? So now, looking at the bigger picture, I find myself wondering: Where do I stand on this distribution? What is the benefit of living at either extreme? What is the benefit of living somewhere in the middle? After this four-day trip, are we the best parents in the world? No. As I write this, my son is yelling that I am "Poopy Pants."😂😂 So it is clearly not that easy to satisfy the younger generation once the bar for excitement has been raised so high. Perhaps that's part of the lesson. Too much stimulation leaves us constantly searching for the next exciting thing. Too much simplicity might cause us to miss opportunities for creativity, discovery, and growth. Maybe the goal isn't to live at either extreme. Maybe the goal is to understand both sides and then intentionally choose our own place on the curve. Almost like building your own life from lego blocks, following some instructions. Still feel the creative fulfillment, while being guided. What do you think? How should we live our lives?

Yesterday I went to a reunion in my Postdoc lab at UVA to listen to Dr Gary Owens give the Robert M Berne lecture and saw many of my lab-mates from that time. 🤩 A reunion is almost like time travel, except time indeed passed. Gary is now much older, it has been almost 10 years, but still incredibly sharp. He weaved a beautiful story of decades of work from his lab to paint a picture where inflammation is both necessary and also detrimental when it comes to atherosclerosis and heart disease. After the talk, during the reception, Gary asked me: “Where did you end up?” As a former postdoc who once worried about being a “kid in a candy store,” I felt proud to say: “I am at VCU, teaching Bioinformatics.” I took my time explaining to colleagues how my transition has been going. That conversation made me reflect as well. This semester I took BIOS 667 — Statistical Learning and Data Mining. Ahh… to be honest, this course was tough. Probably because I was missing a whole chunk of college-level linear algebra that I never formally took. One topic that challenged me was Eigenvalues and Eigenvectors. I can bet the word is not even English. My life changed when I discovered a website I needed to review for coursework. I also went back to Khan Academy, only to realize these were basically the vectors we learned in my high school Physics classes. Thanks to my awesome physics teacher, Ayse Yazici. The gist is that we use eigenvalues and eigenvectors to decompose vectors into a form where matrix operations become easier to understand and perform. Imagine two vectors encompassing a space in a traditional x-y coordinate system. After transformation, we are now looking at that same space through a different coordinate system. The transformed version still covers the exact same space, just from a new perspective that makes the mathematics cleaner and more interpretable. This becomes useful in PCA (principal component analysis), SVD decomposition, and many other methods. Sometimes the data looks messy in the original x-y coordinate system. Eigenvectors create a new set of axes that better match the natural directions of the data. Eigenvalues tell us how important each direction is. The data itself does not change — only the perspective we use to understand it. Changing My Perspective Last night before going to sleep, while my mind was overflowing with this blog I wanted to write, we read Jealous Ninja with my son. The book talks about having a small mindset versus a big mindset. A small mindset focuses on what is missing and skips gratitude. A big mindset believes resources are abundant and there is no need to be jealous. Instead of comparing yourself to others and feeling down, you can choose to 1) praise the other person, 2) practice gratitude, and 3) enjoy the moment. These ideas echoed concepts from The Let Them Theory by Mel Robbins, which I recently finished reading. My brain has been playing a symphony of:“Let them be… let me do this…” Initially, I was not impressed and thought the book was not academic enough. But several chapters genuinely stayed with me. Similar to Jealous Ninja, there is a section on comparison and what to do about it. Instead of sitting in jealousy, the answer becomes: “Let Them Lead, and Let Me get inspired.” The book also discusses relationships, breakups, helping struggling loved ones, and motivating people through inspiration and modeling rather than control. One eye-opening realization for me was how much power I tend to give other people simply by fearing their feedback, criticism, or reaction. Maybe this fear quietly stops me from fully being myself, sharing my insights, or having the courage to live more freely. My sister said creativity feeds the soul, helps to cling to life and find meaning in it. If you worry about being judged, this hampers this survival mechanism. It turns out many of us are deeply impacted by the question:“What will other people think?” That fear can slowly shape our decisions, silence our voices, or stop us from following our dreams. Let them suspect, let me grow. Let them lead, let me follow. Let them reject 1000 times, let me apply again. Let them not approve, let me not need approval. Mindset Transformation This actually ties back to Eigenvalue decomposition above. Here, we are doing a mindset transformation. Now we have two new axes: Let Them and Let Me. Earlier, whatever looked overwhelming in the original x-y coordinate system affects me differently because I chose to transform the way I look at it. It is almost like viewing life through a glass prism, where the same experiences suddenly refract differently. The challenge then becomes: How do I maintain this transformed mindset in practice? How do I move through life without constantly getting upset, controlling others, or hurting people? Here is a small bonus tip I discovered recently. I have been practicing 3 checkpoints lately, especially before sending a message: Does this sentence contain an assumption?Then I should ask and clarify. Does this sentence contain judgment?Would the person feel judged or take it negatively? Does this sentence contain assumptions and/or judgment about another person who is not even addressed?That is bloody gossip just prevented. Once the message passes these checks, there is a lower risk of hurting people. Still, they may get hurt. Still, I may get hurt. But at least the intention is no longer careless. Finding the Path to Myself According to German novelist Hermann Hesse:“The only real job each person has is finding the path to yourself.” In this self-discovery journey, I am starting Rewired by the Ortners next. It is the follow-up to The Tapping Solution. I am not even sure I fully learned how to tap successfully yet, but maybe this could become another life-changing step for me. I forgive myself when I make a mistake by tapping. I tell myself that I love my body and that it is already enough. I try to offer myself compassion and empathy instead of criticism. Maybe there is something almost neuro-magical happening behind the scenes — untangling old emotional patterns and slowly rewiring the way we respond to ourselves. Maybe healing is partly learning how to stop fighting yourself. Let me forgive myself. Let me be myself. And right there… that is the peace.

This year feels special. A good proportion of people from different faith traditions are fasting around the same time, which happens once in 33 years! There is something beautiful about that shared discipline. Ramadan, for me, is more than decorations, iftar gatherings, self-discovery, and celebrating identity. It is also a time to quiet something else — what many now call “food noise.” What Is Food Noise? Recently, I had a thoughtful conversation with my healthcare provider. She gently asked questions about my relationship with food and how I respond to impulses in my body. After reflecting, I realized something uncomfortable but true: Food occupies a loud space in my mind. Here’s what food noise can sound like: You’re at a dinner party. Chocolate cake with strawberries is served. Your brain begins: “That looks amazing… but I’m out of calories. Wait — strawberries are healthy. Maybe just the strawberries. But what about the glaze? Is that dark chocolate? Dark chocolate is healthy… Maybe I can take it home and portion it…Who am I kidding? I’ll eat it all.” Endless negotiation. Math. Strategy. Justification. If this sounds familiar, you know what food noise is . What I Learned from Reading Around the same time, I bought five bestselling books about obesity. I’ve finished 3.5 so far. What struck me most is this: For many people, food does not create this internal negotiation. Hunger and fullness cues are relatively quiet and self-regulated. That difference is not about morality or willpower. It is biology. We know this now, because patients report that after they start taking the new obesity medications, this whole speech bubble goes "pufff" . It is gone. They can focus on goals, activities, learn an instrument, plan a hike and so on, without constantly battling with their own brains. Once the loop of food noise is turned on, until it is controlled (mentally) or gone (with medications), no matter how much willpower we have, the cycle of gaining and losing weight just repeats. 📘 The Obesity Code  — Dr. Jason Fung This book reviews historical diet experiments and proposes a hormonal model of obesity — emphasizing insulin’s role. The central argument: Chronic high insulin levels may contribute to insulin resistance and weight gain. The tone can feel sobering — many diets “work” short-term and then fail long-term. His proposed solution centers on: Reducing refined carbohydrates Avoiding constant snacking Intermittent fasting 📘 How to Lose Weight for the Last Time  — Dr. Katrina Ubell This book is different in tone — deeply psychological. If I were to frame any sentence in the book it would be: "I stopped eating for emotional reasons." Dr. Ubell focuses on: Recognizing food noise Observing urges without reacting Building metacognitive awareness Choosing small sustainable habits I chose: Journaling food and weight Eliminating sugar and flour Plan your next day the night before The journaling has been eye-opening. 📘 Enough  (GLP-1 Perspective) by Dr. Ania Jastreboff This book discusses modern GLP-1 receptor medications and includes powerful anecdotes — including stories from Oprah. One that struck me: Intense exercise + severe calorie restriction did not produce weight loss. This reinforces a critical point: Obesity is a chronic metabolic condition — not a character flaw. Genetics, Evolution, and Environment We often blame genetics. But the rapid rise in obesity since the 1970s suggests environmental and hormonal factors play major roles. There is research showing: Maternal metabolic state during pregnancy influences offspring risk. Early hormonal exposure may affect long-term regulation. This is complex, multifactorial science — not simple inheritance. One Common Theme Across All Books Stop constant snacking. Three meals + three snacks keeps insulin elevated most of the day. Reducing eating frequency may allow hormonal cycles to normalize. That was another eye-opener for me. A Ramadan Reflection Fasting interrupts food noise; maybe by creating separated insulin peaks. It creates space between impulse and action. Certain foods, like sugar, flour, starchy vegetables like potatoes, processed foods, can create special urges in the brain. If not controlled leads to over eating by numbing the centers that control hunger and satiety. One prevention is to recognize such food and just quit them. Another is to control the response in the brain, which is harder: When an urge rises, you let it pass. The wave comes.The wave goes. You remain. If these two sound like they may not work another suggestion is spiritual control. The book Sugar Fast for 40 days gives strategies from the spiritual Christian perspective. Whether your framework is scientific or spiritual — both paths acknowledge the same truth: Awareness changes behavior. A Final Thought In 2026, we are not helpless. We have: Behavioral tools Psychological insight Hormonal understanding Medications that work for many people Obesity, like diabetes or hypertension, often requires long-term management. Perhaps one day, we will understand prevention even better. Until then, if you notice food noise, pause. Name it. Let the wave pass. 🌙 Ramadan Mubarak.🙏 Peace to those observing Lent.🧧 Joy to those celebrating the Lunar New Year.

Hola, indeed, after a long time! I intended to write about my experience in Cancun, Mexico—hoping to paint a picture for curious minds and to amplify my internal gratitude. But before the beaches and crazy bus drivers, let’s reflect on my first semester teaching at VCU. I should probably admit that I had a lot of head scratching the first two weeks. The type of scratching that peels off the crust of a pimple that just healed. My anxiety and scratching gradually settled down to a manageable routine. Without the gracious and deep support from my fellow bioinformatics professors in SLSS, I would not have figured out a way to float this soon. Teaching bioinformatics is inherently different from the “same old” molecular and cellular biology lectures that I was used to giving. Being a visual learner myself, just looking at text and talking over text for long was different. I could not resist adding pictures to my Jupyter notebooks. Next challenge was: how can I still sing and make games about blocks of code? Well, we managed! As we kicked off the semester, I sang with the Take Down melody: “You are gonna be the master of Python coding… How can you sleep or live with yourself without knowing a line of Python coding?” Later, explaining how infinite loops work, we sang “I am unstoppable, I am Porsche with no breaks.” This gave me a chance to explain the break keyword in Python. Then, when we talked about try-except blocks, we sang “We can’t fix it if we never face it.” You could probably notice how I became a fan of Huntrix in the meantime. Teaching Bioethics was a whole new thing. We discussed several bioethics concepts: truth-telling, autonomy, confidentiality, beneficence, who gets to make a decision, who is impacted, how many layers of complications exist here, and how we even tease them apart. Ethics of stem cells, embryos, and embryo manipulation with the advances in gene editing have been dense topics. To empathize with a couple going through similar debates, we had a role play describing the decision-making process for donating frozen embryos for research. We were fortunate to have a field trip to University of Richmond. Dr. Jessica Flanigan was our kind host and gave us a speed lecture with active learning. The students had to move to the side of the room when they agreed or disagreed with an idea. Inside the classrooms, the group discussions and deep, thoughtful communications were the backbone of the course. Now that the semester is almost over, I am excited to plan for 301 and 420 courses coming up next. But for now, back to Cancun. We only stayed for 5 days at the Royal Cancun. What I liked most about Cancun was that it was very similar to Antalya, my hometown. The beach view is stunning, and there are so many opportunities to have fun on the sand, in a pool, on a canoe, or on a Captain Hook–styled party ship. The way you spend your time will depend on your intention. There are many luxury shopping malls and stores as well as a flea market where you would need to negotiate hard. The all-inclusive nature of the hotel is very humbling. I almost always wanted to pay for the dinner, but they kept saying, “All included.” Mexicans are very much like Turkish people: forgiving, generous, hospitable, and in a rush in traffic. We took the city buses to see around, and I kept telling my kids, this is the same as riding a bus in Turkiye. The roads are narrower, the buses are faster, and they even drive with the door open while a lady who just got on tries to get coins out of her purse while holding onto nothing. Mexicans are also very much into music and dances. The show at the Xcaret park rightfully demonstrated Mexican history and how they embraced Christianity while preserving the Mayan culture. I guess I am trying to put together in my head two very different experiences. If you decide to go to Cancun for a vacation, or jump into the unknown waters of the coding world, you are not alone! Each new thing is scary at first, and all initiatives are unsettling. Be courageous to take the first step, soon you will notice that the second step is actually not as difficult as the first one. Let’s wait and see what the next semester will bring. Until then, adios amigos!

I wanted to share a bit of exciting news—this fall, I’ll be joining Virginia Commonwealth University as an Assistant Professor of Bioinformatics. 🎉 I’ll be mostly teaching bioinformatics and continuing my research and collaboration efforts 🙏 My curiosity for bioinformatics first bloomed during my postdoc, when I found myself deep in single-cell RNA-seq. I remember puzzling over UMAP: how could something be “not wrong,” and also “not correct”? That question pulled me into the math, the statistics, the structure beneath the surface. I’m still learning—and that, to me, is the best part of this journey . I hope this new chapter will help me keep growing—and maybe even spill over enough to water other sprouts nearby. We will be super courageous and tough learners! 💪 I’m incredibly grateful for the warm welcome from Dr. Rima Franklin, and to the search committee: Dr. Allison Johnson, Dr. Andrew Sackman, and Dr. LaMont Cannon—thank you for this opportunity. To all my mentors—thank you for lighting the path. To my students and my family—thank you for making it all meaningful. Here we go. 🌿💻💻💻 hashtag#newbeginnings   hashtag#bioinformatics   hashtag#academia   hashtag#grateful   hashtag#alwayslearning

Today is my second (or maybe third?) day with a sore throat and strep infection. I’m having a hard time swallowing and speaking. I had meant to study and make progress on my collaborative projects or coursework—but then I remembered I still needed to write my London reflections. Before we get to London, though, I should share something closer to home: we now have a flock of parakeets . A total of five babies have hatched, and there are more eggs being kept warm under their mama. Their names so far are Pamuk  (Cotton), Şeker  (Candy), Bulut  (Cloud), Umut  (Hope), and—hmm—I seem to be blanking on the fifth name. Watching parakeet eggs hatch and seeing how those fragile, unformed bodies turn into delicate, pretty birds has been unexpectedly moving. Human babies are also most vulnerable as newborns—yet somehow, also the cutest. There’s something timeless about the merhamet  (compassion) that arises from vulnerability. I’ll let you think a bit more about birds and compassion, while I return to my London reflections. ------- We stayed in London for five days, in a hotel that—later we learned—was near a hub where many Turkish people live. My first impression of London was that rules are taken very seriously . Everyone seemed careful, cautious—even slightly afraid—of tickets, rules, and maybe even undercover police. My second impression was how cosmopolitan it felt. I kept wondering, Where are the original Londoners?  Maybe they moved out, or maybe they came to the U.S.? I saw more visibly Muslim women (in full hijab) than I was used to seeing even in Antalya. Later, we learned that many immigrant communities have their own sections: Pakistani, Turkish, Arab, and so on. The iconic double-decker bus ride  was fun, and seeing the city from the London Eye  was also pleasing—although my eyes kept searching for the blue-green waters of Istanbul. Instead, the Thames was a muddy brown. As we were rushing to make to our London Eye ticket time, we walked by the Big Bang and quickly snapped some photos. We did not have a chance to get to the Buckingham Palace. Londoners, I noticed, weren’t particularly into fashion or looking chic, but they were definitely into musicals and shows . On a boat tour, we were told there’s even a “stand-up” show where you literally stand to watch. Every corner seemed to be a theater—unlike Paris, where every corner was a boulangerie. Londoners also seemed less fit  than Parisians. You can easily spot “American-like” people in London, too. Maybe one culprit is the widespread fish and chips  culture. Even our hotel check-in came with a massive chocolate chip cookie. The label said “2000 calories are recommended for adults.” I’m sorry—but if I eat 2000 calories every day, I’ll get very chunky. We explored Oxford Street , and found a TK Maxx  (which is the UK version of TJ Maxx). My daughter was thrilled to find two dresses. My husband met up with his friends, and one of them took us to a fancy restaurant called Mantl . Afterwards, we had desserts at Hafiz Mustafa 1864 , a Turkish sweet shop with a long family history—and the flavors to prove it. Normally I wouldn’t go to such places, but since my husband’s friend paid, I was more than okay :) We visited Hyde Park  and a few famous museums. But toward the end of our trip, we all started getting sick—one by one. It’s hard to enjoy a vacation when someone is always feeling unwell. That said, the boat tour  gave us lovely views of the Tower Bridge , which turned out to be far more impressive than the London Bridge  (yes, the one from the nursery rhyme). We also went up to the Sky Garden  to see the city from above and enjoy the greenery—but by then, I was very tired and sick. One small highlight that brought me genuine joy: I found a lemon squeezer made in Turkey . The shop was full of colorful plastic items I remembered from my childhood. Shopping with my mom in Antalya’s open bazaars, I loved seeing the legen  (wide basins), the gırgır  (crumb sweepers), and the colorful tuzluk  (salt shakers). My version of window shopping as a child was watching my mom ask the seller, “How much is this?” and hoping we’d bring something home. On our last night, we walked by a Canal near our hotel and discovered the boathouses —homes floating right on the water. That was a first for me. There was also a splashing water park  at the end of the walk, where the water danced as if dancing to music in bursts and sprays. London probably has much more to offer, but we aren’t yet the type of family to sit through a full musical with three kids in tow. Still, it was a special trip. --- And back at home, our parakeet named Hope (Umut)  is doing well. I think I named it that way because I needed hope myself. Maybe I was hoping the bird would give me some. After a whole month of celebrating Maybes , June has become a ride of Hope . How has your June been? Did your hydrangeas  bloom? Did you get a chance to take some photos?

We just returned from a 10-day vacation in Europe, and I want to put my experience into words—first, to solidify the memories for my future self, and second, to paint a picture for other curious readers. We landed in Paris via AirFrance after a pleasant flight. They gave the kids little toys and snack boxes—cute and elegantly designed. I picked up a few charming beginner phrases like Bon appétit and Bonjour. At the airport, taxi drivers swarmed us, eager to offer a ride. My husband wisely turned down a cab and ordered an Uber for half the price. We stayed in a two-bedroom flat called Edgar Suites. Watching Parisians pass by on the street—biking effortlessly while chatting on their phones—was a simple delight. I found myself missing the rhythm of uptown life from my childhood. Our flat was on 100. Yıl Boulevard, a bustling street like Antalya’s Broad Street. From our balcony, the cars buzzed like mosquitoes. Only at night, when traffic eased, could you hear the soft murmur of people walking and talking below. Shops and markets lined the ground floor, and I remembered stories of lowering baskets from windows to collect groceries—a charming relic of urban life. The Paris street where we stayed had a similar vibe, but with stricter aesthetics: buildings rarely taller than five stories, all in white or beige, with narrow French balconies—more decorative than functional, but perfect for the occasional smoker. I couldn’t help but notice: Parisians are taller, slimmer, and more stylish than I’m used to seeing. I looked around, searching for someone with a big belly—rare. Every corner seemed to host a boulangerie-pâtisserie, overflowing with croissants and pastries. People lingered outside, drinking, smoking, talking. There were more smokers than I expected—one of the few unhealthy habits that linger here. Of course, we tried the famous croissants—buttery, flaky, and rich. Delicious, yes. But it made me wonder how Parisians indulge in such foods and still remain so trim. We explored the nearby shops and found a Turkish kebab place called Melodie. The Turkish server, born and raised in Paris, was friendly—but oddly discontent with Paris life. My daughter fell asleep at the restaurant table, so we headed back to our suite for the night. The next day was our Eiffel Tower day. On the way, we passed the tunnel where Princess Diana’s tragic accident occurred. To reach the summit, we took two different elevators—one made my son dizzy for a while. From the top, the city spreads out beneath you in every direction. But you feel a strange disconnection—you’re on the Eiffel Tower, yet can’t see it. For photos, the best shots come after you descend, with the tower standing tall behind you. There are so many beautiful viewpoints; it’s hard to go wrong. The buildings themselves have a consistent beauty—graceful architecture, charming flower boxes, and the perfume of blooming bushes. That’s the level Paris operates on. Later, we ate at a halal restaurant. I may have overindulged in sweets and ended up with a headache. On the way back, we stopped at Starbucks on a quiet passage off the Champs-Élysées. I looked around at the luxury shops and wondered: Who shops here? Who needs things that expensive? I bought a sparkly Eiffel Tower scarf and a handful of gifts for friends. Back at the suite, I told my daughter, “Keep the window open—I want to hear the street.” One night, battling jet lag, I watched two cars stop near the sidewalk. A woman stepped out of one—dressed in classic Parisian elegance. The woman in the other car looked more ordinary. They talked, exchanged a few words, and the elegant woman handed over what looked like six blue bills. A tiny mystery from the balcony. Parisians weren’t just fit—they were dressed. A silky green skirt for errands. Perfectly tailored pants. Not once did I see a waistband out of place or anything peeking where it shouldn’t. Of course, there were homeless people too—just like any city—but not in numbers that disrupted the city’s visual harmony. The next day, we went to Le Jardin d’Acclimatation, a kid-friendly amusement park. Then came a boat tour along the Seine. The kids were tired of walking, and we were tired of carrying them. Then came the Louvre. Home to the Mona Lisa. The museum is massive, more a palace than a building. Mona Lisa had her own queue and crowd. You get maybe three seconds to take a photo. I looked at the painting, then at my photos. Honestly? I wasn’t blown away. Other paintings were much larger and more visually dramatic. So what’s the hype? Maybe because it was stolen once. Maybe because of artistic techniques beyond my understanding. Still, a bucket-list item—checked off. If I had more time (and fewer kids to carry), I would’ve enjoyed it more. We closed our Paris stay with more Turkish food and a rose-shaped ice cream cone from Amorino. The woman sculpted each petal by pressing slices of gelato onto a waffle cone. Of course, there was a line. Then we boarded the Eurostar to London. More on that soon.

Today, I thought about the cartoons my son watches— Paw Patrol  and PJ Masks . It’s hard not to go a little crazy watching how unrealistic they are. The pups can fly, swim in the ocean, and lift meteors. The PJ Masks? Even more absurd. They're regular kids during the day, and become superheroes at night—without ever sleeping? And how exactly do they transform ? All this talk of superpowers got me thinking: what is power , really? Philosophically, power might mean status, hierarchy, dominance, politics, or sheer luck—being born into the right family or tribe. Physiologically, the human body can only gain so much power by building muscle. But at the core of every push or pull we make, there’s a molecular truth: actin and myosin . This concept goes all the way back to the first lectures in molecular cell biology. At the microscopic level, power lives in the surfaces of molecules—surfaces that interact. These interactions are often non-covalent, based on molecular complementarity : opposite charges attract, hydrophobic parts tuck together, shapes fit like puzzle pieces. They bind, then shift, and unbind again. A beautiful dance. It’s the same mechanism that drives muscle contraction —myosin heads "walking" along actin fibers. And it doesn’t happen without energy: ATP  fuels it, and Ca²⁺  regulates it. In fact, muscle cells use up a lot of ATP just to store  calcium back into the sarcoplasmic reticulum after contraction. So when we talk about a power stroke , what we’re really talking about is myosin gliding on actin, powered by ATP. More muscle fibers mean more myosin heads. That’s our human power, right there—bundled, limited, elegant. Which makes me wonder: what is a superpower , really? Maybe we recognize power because we know our limits. Maybe recognizing that we are weak, finite, and not-so-capable is what makes anything "super-powered" so awe-inspiring. Superpowers are our way of imagining the impossible, the beyond-human. So what’s the value in raising kids in a world of superheroes that don’t exist? Maybe... it’s that they pretend  to be heroes. Maybe they start to wish  to be helpful, courageous, and kind. Maybe that wish is where the real power begins. Do you ever think about superpowers? Would you want one? Maybe you already have one—a gut feeling, a sixth sense. We might have powers we haven’t even named yet. 😊