The Agony That Sparks Ecstasy
in every breath
if you’re the center
of your own desires
you’ll lose the grace
of your beloved
but if in every breath
you blow away
your self claim
the ecstasy of love
will soon arrive
in every breath
if you’re the center
of your own thoughts
the sadness of autumn
will fall on you
but if in every breath
you strip naked
just like a winter
the joy of spring
will grow from within
all your impatience
comes from the push
for gain of patience
let go of the effort
and peace will arrive
all your unfulfilled desires
are from your greed
for gain of fulfillments
let go of them all
and they will be sent as gifts
fall in love with
the agony of love
not the ecstasy
then the beloved
will fall in love with you*
This Rumi poem, posted today by a friend, stunned me. I felt, as Emily Dickinson did in the presence of poetry, “as if the top of my head were taken off.” The voice does not sound religious or even “spiritual.” It is immediate, powerful. Its message is simple and plain, telling us what we already know, what has already been verified a thousand times. Yet it shears off the top of our heads. This must be what it was like to listen to Jesus. He didn’t sound like your typical religious teacher, “for he taught with real authority—quite unlike their teachers of religious law” (Matt. 7:29).
Like Jesus, Rumi dares to make the spiritual life not about moral performance, but about falling—in love. His words appeal to our deep need to escape our innate self-ishness. Every one of us feels incomplete; we long for wholeness—the great fulfillment that can only come in surrendering our lives to some Other.
The spiritual question, then, is not, How can I be a better person?, or even, How can I help others? Those questions always end up feeding the ego. The essential question is, How am I falling today—in love?
Where can you give yourself the slip? Who or what will you look at and adore? What “agony of love” will you endure, the hard work of loving children, or suffering loved ones, those who cannot return your love? What agony of longing will you risk, hoping for a breakthrough of love where you have never been able to find it? There is where the Beloved will find you.
*In Every Breath, translated by Nader Khalili in Rumi, Fountain of Fire.
Rumi possibly my favorite (Mary Oliver up there too) poet although it usually takes me several readings to understand what he’s saying. My 2 year old has boundless energy and there’s something about the way she slaps me in the face to garner a response that I love – when will she realize how old I am?!. My prisoner friend in Texas who did something unspeakable to his daughter who I “met” years ago through the AA Incarceration Correspondence Program- I wrote the Parole Board a letter in support of his release this week – am I out of my mind? I can only write what I know…that he has helped me more than I can ever help him and he shows remorse for his crime…what if he gets released partly because of my words and commits again? Jesus. And honestly I don’t even know if these examples are what Rumi’s getting at.
Yes, you took a risk writing that letter. Who knows whether it was the right thing to do. If we never take risks, if all our actions are sealed with certainty–we’ll miss out. If our primary fear is messing up, we’ll miss out. I don’t know what Rumi meant either, but I think you’re on his wave-length here, Matt.
You know a thing or two, Michael, about visiting prisoners.
Thank you Michael and David! Been reading a fair amount lately about the horrific conditions many prisoners endures and Bob on constant prison-wide lockdown and shuttled from prison to prison bc he is diabetic. And the massive drug problem in the prisons – how do they let that happen?! Wild. Anyways, appreciate the feedback and text messages! I am obviously but a small part of the decision making process.
Often a comment is better than the post itself–that’s true of your good words, Matt. That image of your two year old slapping you to get your attention–and then the poignant story of the prisoner–those were all about deep and crazy mysterious love–which we can’t sort out. That’s the moral puzzle of the prisoner–and yet we know how often the Bible demands that we visit those in prison. That’s an incredibly powerful relationship you have with this man.
And–as for what Rumi “meant” by the kind of love he sings of in this poem–I think it’s wide open, it’s whatever you take from the poem, whatever it fires in your heart. That’s it.
Amazing. Thanks, David.
Here’s my take on Rumi’s mysterious poem.Put my wants,I deserve,I should haves, behind me. Replace them with, who can I help, what can I share, who needs a hug-love-? Without expecting any rewards. Easier said than done, but I will know. That’s enough.
That’s quite in the spirit of Rumi—putting all that self-stuff behind us, as you say, so that the really good stuff can start happening. All we have to do is: Get Out Of God’s Way.
I keep trying to get out of God’s way! But somehow He keeps finding me & reminding me to follow his path , not mine! Why is that so hard to remember?!
because . . . you’re human!