Why Now?
After 37 years of silence, I didn’t expect to speak. But one night, something opened. Not loud. Not dramatic. But clear.
Several weeks ago, during a quiet Friday night meditation with my wife, I came out of stillness with a sudden knowing — a voice, gentle but firm, that said:
You have to tell your story.
It wasn’t a thought I had planned.
It wasn’t a resolution or a branding idea.
It was something older. Something deeper.
And the next morning, I picked up the mic and began recording.
This podcast wasn’t built through strategy. It didn’t begin with structure.
It began with breath. With pressure. With memory.
The Cost of Silence
For the better part of four decades, I said nothing.
Not about the escape.
Not about the night we crossed the mountains.
Not about the trauma stored in my chest like an unread letter.
I built a career in academia — taught psychology, lectured to packed halls and presented research at international conferences.
But what I shared was never personal. It was safe. Objective. Sterile.
There’s a comfort in objectivity.
Data doesn’t weep. Hypotheses don’t remember.
And for someone carrying unprocessed trauma, the scientific method becomes a sanctuary.
But even in safety, the body remembers danger.
And mine never forgot.
What Finally Moved
There were many reasons I stayed quiet:
I was shy. I feared public scrutiny.
I had witnessed what happened to someone I loved — my uncle, a decorated military pilot who was silenced after speaking his truth.
And somewhere inside, I also believed my story had to be perfect to be worth sharing.
But stories aren’t made of perfection.
They’re made of truth.
And truth doesn’t need to be tidy to be real.
The Eruption
What I felt that night after meditation wasn’t explosive.
It wasn’t rage. It wasn’t grief.
It was a gentle kind of pressure — like a Hawaiian volcano.
A quiet lava flow that had built beneath the surface for years, waiting for the smallest crack to escape.
I felt like the ney flute I sometimes play —
Hollowed out by time, made ready by silence, and suddenly… able to sing.
And So I Spoke
The podcast was born that weekend.
Episode by episode, I’ve been tracing my journey — not just geographically, but emotionally. Spiritually. Soulfully.
And this third episode is a pause in the narrative.
A reflection on the question at the center of it all:
Why now?
A Whisper to You
If you’ve carried a story you haven’t spoken…
If you’ve waited for the “right time” to step forward…
If some part of you has been silent out of fear, protection, or belief that you need to be “ready”…
This episode is for you.
It doesn’t offer answers.
But maybe it offers a breath.
🎧 Listen to Episode 3: Apple | Spotify
Thank you — for listening, for remembering, for walking with me.
I’m so grateful you’re here.
In breath,
Shahin