Welcome to my blog

Welcome to my blog! My name is Kaan.

It’s hard to summarize who I am—there’s a lot there—but I’ll try. I’m a Turkish-American man who grew up in the northeastern United States. I played many sports growing up, all of which fostered my love for movement and exploration through the body. I’ve been fortunate to live in a place that has allowed me to pursue a wide range of mountain and ocean sports—and I love all of them.

I’ve worked many different jobs over the years—climbing instructor, hiking guide, bicycle mechanic, outdoor gear ambassador, and whatever else I could piece together. I like working with my hands. I like being outside. I like getting dirty. Lately that’s also looked like growing food, messing around with small gardens, and getting curious about regenerative agriculture. I’m also drawn to communal living and indigenous ways of being to modern outlooks on life.

I’ve spent the last eight years in academia—first studying physics as an undergraduate, then earning a master’s degree in Ocean Engineering with a focus on ocean mapping. That path opened up unique opportunities to explore different parts of the world—and myself in the process. Although my educational background leans heavily intellectual, I consider myself a highly intuitive person as well.

Underneath all of that, I’ve been moving through my own mental health journey for years. Anxiety, depression—the usual cocktail. It’s been messy and uncomfortable and, at times, pretty brutal. But pushing through that has also forced me to actually look at myself in a way I probably never would have otherwise.

During grad school, things reached a breaking point. I felt lost, disconnected, and without a sense of purpose. I leaned heavily on the support of family and community during that time. A major turning point came in October 2024, when I traveled to the Arctic Ocean for my degree. A friend had given me The Myth of Normal by Dr. Gabor Maté to read while I was away. A lot shifted during that trip, but in short, I began to sense that another way of living was possible.

When I returned, I felt called to pursue yoga. Almost serendipitously, I found a community that felt exactly right. Through that space, so much began to open up. My practice shifted from performance-driven—something I once used to enhance my abilities in the mountains—to something much softer and more introspective. “What can I get out of this?” energy, very colonial in my approach. Instead, I began asking, “How can I show up?”—for myself and for others. That shift changed everything.

Around the same time, I was introduced to meditation through a completely different avenue. Together, these practices led me into exploring somatic work, nervous system regulation, and a deeper connection to something beyond myself. This is when my spiritual path began to consciously unfold.

In Dr. Maté’s book, the final chapter discusses the use of plant medicines in indigenous cultures. I had some recreational experience with mushrooms and cannabis, but what I read pointed to something entirely different. Something in me felt drawn to explore it more deeply.

In the summer of 2025, I sat in my first ayahuasca ceremonies. Yoga and meditation had already set the stage for self-discovery—ceremony accelerated it dramatically. It expanded my awareness in ways I had only begun to touch before. Afterward, I entered a period of deep introspection—meditating for several hours a day, practicing yoga, working on my master’s, and largely keeping to myself.

I felt incredibly centered during that time, but I had also withdrawn from the world. I felt like a modern version of the “monk in the cave.” That period gave me the strength and clarity to finish my degree, but by the end of it, I was ready to re-engage—to connect, socialize, and experience life more fully again.

Throughout 2025, I had been planning a long-distance bike ride from India to Spain, set to begin in January 2026. I finished my degree in September 2025 and decided to spend some time traveling and celebrating with friends abroad before the journey.

And celebrate I did.

It turned into a full pendulum swing—from disciplined, inward, almost ascetic yogi to dancing, wild, expansive human. It was joyful, chaotic, and alive. Until it wasn’t. In November, I broke my foot in a motorbike accident in Spain. In an instant, my plans—and my confidence—collapsed.

I had already moved out of my home before leaving for Europe, expecting to briefly return to my parents’ house before setting off on the bike trip. Instead, I came back with no plan, injured, and emotionally shaken. It felt like a deep regression. I had believed that all the inner work I had done would somehow carry me beyond suffering—and yet there I was again, in a familiar darkness.

I fell into a deep depression. My sense of joy disappeared. For years, I had told myself that finishing school would solve everything. It didn’t. That realization was humbling, to say the least. It wasn’t grad school that had been making me miserable—it was something much deeper within me.

That period held important lessons.

As I began recovering from my injury, an opportunity arose to volunteer at a festival in Costa Rica. I was still in a dark place, but I decided to go anyway. I’m incredibly grateful I did. That experience reconnected me with joy. I met people living in alignment with their values, pursuing their passions despite societal pressure to conform. It reignited something in me.

Slowly, my excitement for life—and for the bike journey—returned. For a while, I had written that dream off completely. Feeling that spark come back after such a heavy period was powerful.

Which brings me to now—and to this blog.

I’ve wanted to create a space to document my travels and reflections for nearly a decade. I’ve written along the way but never shared it. This upcoming bike journey has become the catalyst to finally put my thoughts out into the world, even if it feels imperfect.

Follow along for travel stories, reflections on spirituality, plant medicine, yoga, movement, regenerative agriculture, communal living and whatever else arises along the way.