Shuba’s Weblog

Journeys of the soul…

A Rumi jogan’s musings

on December 17, 2008

jogan in hindi is closest to ‘mystic’. someone who can be lost – completely immersed-in something. like Meerabai with Lord Krishna. I am that for Rumi.

I will not claim to be an expert or the most ardent fan of Rumi. but I am who I claim – a Rumi jogan.

Rumi. the breath of spiritual poetry. the one who knows to put into words the angst, the pain, the joy, the bliss of love and being with the One. (well, Rumi along with Coleman Barks whose translation, ‘Essential Rumi’ is possibly my most read book.)

I was telling a friend yesterday – reading Rumi is my therapy. no matter how one feels-you pick up Rumi. and you know it is all okay. as he says – enjoy the feeling: of sometimes knowing the secret. and sometimes not. he knows bliss. the way the heart feels so bright and full of light and love that it cannot help but overflow. he knows pain. of doubt, of not knowing, of suffering and longing to be with the One. and everything in between.

some of my favorite lines:
when I feel crazy in bliss – these words make me laugh:

“I had to clap and sing.
I used to be respectable and chaste and stable,
but who can stand in this strong wind
and remember those things?”

when I feel guilty at forgetting who I am:
“Why should we grieve that we’ve been sleeping?
It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been unconscious.

We’re groggy, but let the guilt go.
Feel the motions of tenderness
around you, the buoyancy.”

my absolute favorite lines that never fail to lift my spirits:
“If anyone asks you
how the perfect satisfaction
of all our sexual wanting
will look, lift your face
and say,
Like this.

When someone mentions the gracefulness
of the nightsky, climb up on the roof
and dance and say,
Like this?

If anyone wants to know what “spirit” is,
or what “God’s fragrance” means,
lean your head toward him or her.
Keep your face there close.
Like this.

When someone quotes the old poetic image
about clouds gradually uncovering the moon,
slowly loosen knot by knot the strings
of your robe.
Like this?”

are there words more beautiful than these!!!

another one:
“I was dead, then alive.
Weeping, then laughing.

The power of love came into me,
and I became fierce like a lion,
then tender like the evening star.”

Rumi. thank God for Rumi. for all those sufi mystics who experienced the full spectrum of life. and who put into words for travelers like us!

With love,
S.

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