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A Prayer for the World

 

 

Hafiz, a 14th century Persian poet wrote the following wise words.  I post them here because, unbelievably, a bomb threat was called in today at our local middle school.  All is fine now, but that anyone would seek to re-traumatize our youth, at any time, but especially now as our  community is still in shock from the shootings of Casey and Paco, speaks loudly of where we need healing as a community and as humanity.

May Hafiz’s words give hope.

I have come into this world to see this:
the sword drop from men’s hands even at the height
of their arc of anger

because we have finally realized there is just on flesh to woulnd
and it is His–the Christ’s, our
Beloved’s.

I have come into this world to see this: all creatures hold hands as
we pass through this miraculous existence we share on the way
to even a greater being of soul,

a being of just ecstatic light, forever entwined and at play
with Him.

I have come into this world to hear this: every song the earth has sung since it was conceived in
the Divine’s womb and began spinning from
His wish,

every song by wing and fin and hoof,
every song by hill and field and tree and woman and child,
every song of stream and rock,

every song of tool and lyre and flute,
every song of gold and emerald
and fire,

every song the heart should cry with magnificent dignity
to know itself as
God;

for all other knowledge will leave us again in want and aching–
only imbibing the glorious Sun
will complete us.

I have come into the world to experience this:

men so true to love they would rather die before speaking
an unkind word,

men so true their lives are His covenant–
the promise of
hope.

I have come into this world to see this:
the sword drop from men’s hands
even at the height of their arc of
rage

because we have finally realized there is just one flesh
we can wound.

by Hafiz, 14th century Persian poet

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Slowing down and Relating to One’s Self

Bill and his newly reconstructed compost bins

The mindfulness project Susan and I are embarked upon continues to bring up common themes in  new ways.  It is decidedly fall now, thus the theme of seasons and change.  I have re-built the three stall compost system in anticipation of harvesting an abundance of leaves destined to be lovingly distributed to future soil expecting a future garden and a future harvest.  I have discovered that building good soil is something of a spiritual imperative — more about that in another blog post

For now the metaphor stays with fall and another change of seasons.  Wow!  Time moves along pushing us from season to season. Then one day I awake to discover my son has turned 30 years old!  For most of my life I would not have said that one fall feels appreciably different than the next.  Now this!

In my last post I mentioned that in “overwhelm and busy mode” that heretofore characterized my routine, I had found it impossible to consider making many changes simply because I could not conceive of fitting the needed change into the life I was living.

The mindfulness project is allowing me to perceive many of the ways I have previously shrunken life experience to continue my habit of constantly working.  Now on the cusp of sixty, with the help of time dedicated to pause and reflection, I perceive new ways of expanding life experience, and doing so more meaningfully.  This really is a gift of just slowing down.  The exterior life is just as demanding, but care of the soul comes first — and what a difference.

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