I have been focused for a couple of years now about what it means to be separated from the things that I have believed made me feel better about being alive. This wish list has changed considerably over time and the passionate fire dies down now at my age to more of a warm ember and an awareness of humble appreciation for what I have. I now understand what I sought all my life resides within myself but, still, I will always be separated from something. That is what makes this such a tricky desolation to navigate.
The merging together and the pulling apart is part and parcel of being human, like breathing in and breathing out. My teachings of late suggest that this yearning is soul centered and it is there because we are all sourced in a central energetic that we have chosen to separate ourselves from to cultivate humanity. We yearn to return to it but we have forgotten it exists. We had to forget so we could fumble about properly in our experiences and mess things up. We are haunted by sensing this source and we acquire and consume blindly rarely recognizing what this need truly is that we are trying to fill.
Hafiz reminds us in this poem that being human and being separated from our deepest source of love is rough business with yearning at every edge of our experience. We are orphans; we are refugees; we are Bedouins and should one look deep enough, we are alone in our journeying through this dimension. Being human is no picnic, if you throw yourself into the enterprise. It is a tough gig without much comfort but it is one of great privilege, honor and even great joy, when done right.
Thank you for listening.
https://pixabay.com/music/world-desert-voices-11468/
Music: I used this song before in relation to my audio book but it also needs to be here. Florence and the Machine is one of my favorite group of artists. Their work is rich and, in my opinion, they cover it all while channeling a greater knowledge for us to enjoy. This video by AG Rohas and the song, Hunger is about our human need to fulfill ourselves.
Painting: Irving Ramsey Wiles The Green Cushion 1895
The original post in this series of poems by Hafiz (including an addendum regarding the authenticity of these poems) can be found here. Also, my thoughts on this series a year into these poems, HERE.
The Gift: Poems by Hafiz and translated by Daniel Ladinsky can be purchased here.