A Tale

I told some acquaintances I was completing a Master’s Degree. They became uneasy: “What are you going to do next?’ or “Have you got a job yet?’ or “You must be glad it’s over.”

My responses are: “Don’t know” “No” and “Not really.” Like them, "free time” makes me uncomfortable. I may have longed for some of it, but when it arrives, I start to squirm. Clearly, I need a refresher course in Being (as distinct from Doing).

Once I do get my body rested, my mind is off again, shouting for action, and I see that resting my mind is a whole different ball game. Inevitably, to let it settle down, it seems I must pass through a kind of fire‑dance of loneliness, almost like detoxing from too much alcohol or some other kind of high. It is not easy.

But it is worth the “sweats” to come to a deeper rest.

My Eyes So Soft

Don’t surrender your loneliness so quickly;
let it cut more deep.
Let it ferment and season you
as few human or even divine ingredients can.
Something missing in my heart tonight
has made my eyes so soft,
my voice so tender,
my need of god
absolutely clear.
The Gift

Yeah, but how do we put it into practice?

Echoes

[A poem by Hafiz deserves
center spacing on the left.

[It needs no comment.]

When I’m restless, the world tells me it’s normal, ambitious, commendable. Yet often it actually means that I’ve abandoned my center, my place of rest, the inner home. When I abdicate my personal peace, I become “driven,” and wind up feeling edgy. Then I know that rest, (“sabbath” ) is becoming crucially necessary.