Introduction:
“i̇ns” — a fragment, a whisper of a word that once meant everything. It is the beginning of “insan,” the Turkish word for human, but also a standalone echo—unfinished, uncertain, yet deeply reflective. This article explores the incomplete state of the human condition, how our identities remain constantly evolving, and how the modern world affects our perception of what it means to be human. Through emotion, memory, conflict, and silence, we delve into the vast spaces between being and becoming.
1. The Incomplete Self: A Mirror with Cracks
Humans are always in progress—never complete, never static. The concept of the “incomplete self” suggests that no matter how much we learn, experience, or grow, we are always reaching for something beyond our grasp. Life doesn’t come with a final form; instead, we live through drafts, revisions, and pauses. This fractured sense of identity becomes more visible in an age of social media, where we often present polished versions of ourselves, hiding the rough edges and silent breakdowns. Behind every curated photo is someone trying to understand who they really are. The mirror we hold up to ourselves shows not only our reflections but our fears, regrets, dreams, and contradictions. This incompleteness is not a flaw but a feature—a reminder that being human is about constantly becoming.
2. Noise and Silence: The Battle for Inner Space
In a world overflowing with information, opinions, and distractions, silence has become a rare luxury. Yet, it is within silence that we truly meet ourselves. The noise of the modern world drowns out our inner voice, replacing it with anxiety, restlessness, and comparison. Whether it’s the constant ping of notifications or the pressure to be constantly productive, we lose the ability to sit with our thoughts and simply exist. Silence, once a natural part of life, now requires intention and courage. It’s in the silence that our emotions speak loudest—grief, joy, hope, and sorrow come forward without filters. And in these quiet moments, “i̇ns” becomes whole again, even if briefly, reminding us that our humanity is not found in constant noise but in deep presence.
3. Memory as Identity: The Past Inside Us
Our memories are the architecture of who we are. They shape our decisions, reactions, and even our sense of time. But memory is not static—it changes, warps, fades, and sometimes lies. What we remember often says more about what we feel than what actually happened. In this way, memory doesn’t just record life; it creates life. For “i̇ns,” the human being, memory is not just nostalgia—it’s survival. In every recollection of a childhood moment, a lost love, or a painful regret, we are reminded that we are not merely living in the present but carrying our entire past with us. Each person is a living archive, and every story is part of a larger identity. Yet, when memory fails or is manipulated, our sense of self begins to unravel. Thus, the preservation of memory becomes sacred—an act of reclaiming one’s humanity.
4. Emotional Intelligence: The Language of the Heart
To be human is to feel deeply—and to understand those feelings with clarity and compassion is emotional intelligence. It’s not about controlling emotions but listening to them, interpreting them, and letting them guide us without dominating us. Emotions are not weaknesses; they are messages from within, designed to help us navigate a complex world. Fear tells us where danger lies. Sadness helps us grieve and let go. Joy reminds us to stay connected to the present. However, emotional literacy is rarely taught; many people grow up unable to name what they feel or express it in healthy ways. As a result, relationships suffer, internal conflicts grow, and a disconnection from the self emerges. The journey toward understanding emotions is a central part of being “i̇ns”—to feel, to hurt, to love, and to grow from those feelings rather than be broken by them.
5. Human Connection: The Bridge That Saves Us
Despite all our technology and progress, the deepest human need remains connection. We are social creatures—wired to belong, to touch, to share stories. When we feel seen and understood, something inside us heals. But in a digital world, genuine connection has become harder to find. Likes and comments are not the same as presence and empathy. Real connection requires vulnerability, time, and trust—qualities that are often sacrificed in a culture of speed. Yet, it is only through others that we truly see ourselves. Relationships mirror our strengths and weaknesses. They challenge us, comfort us, and shape our growth. In moments of true connection—when someone says, “I see you,” or listens without judgment—we are reminded of what it really means to be “i̇ns.”
