What mystery breaks over me now?
In its shadow I come into life.
For the first time I am alone with you –

you, my power to feel.

by Reiner Maria Rilke, translated by Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows

Such an intimate connecting in this poem with Rilke’s ‘own deep soul’, in this poem from the Book of Hours… In it I hear the willingness to turn toward and the capacity to be with what’s there, plus the strong commitment to not abandon onself that is expressed in the sentence ‘trust me, I will not betray you’.

In mindfulness we set out to ‘know what is happening, while it’s happening, no matter what it is’, and this goes for noticing my butterfly mind flitting from this to that and the noises of the traffic outside etcetera, but also for what moves itself in ‘my own deep soul’. What are the voices alive in our blood saying? How do we become still enough to listen and really hear what’s there? And how do we create the conditions for our own soul and those deep voices to continue to communicate when maybe we’ve been too busy to listen to them, or perhaps we were busy listening to other parts of ourselves, or to the demands of the world, or the lure of distractions… Many reasons why we might not be awake to what is happening in the deeper layers of our being, which may not be our fault, but definitely is our own responsibility. And it may be that when we allow ourselves to be alone with our power to feel, the internal voices are very ready to tell what’s important for them – and that we can find greater alignment with living our core values.

The practice of listening deeply to what moves itself within me is often not straightforward, but there’s a truthfulness that I value more than the comfort of convenience or the status quo. And who knows what might happen next…

PS if you’d like to connect more deeply with yourself, the compassion course that is about to start may support with that…

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

by Rumi
translated by David Ladinsky.

There’s so much in this poem. Let me begin with a reflection on the oar, since its image is such a fulcrum in the poem. I find myself naturally receiving and responding to the idea of the oar and I feel a longing in my heart to place my hand and soul against the oar with Rumi. Something in me knows the promise of this action. Rumi seems to be inviting us to join him, appealing to us, asking us to align ourselves with, or commit ourselves to something which he already has in motion for our own good and the good of ‘every creature’. Is it a practice, an aspiration or a spiritual perspective that he’s referring to? Certainly, it requires some dynamic input from us, but the momentum is already underway which makes it as easy as it could possibly be to be swept up in the rhythm of rowing together.

‘When the moment cracks open’ – what a thought! Such inspiration in one sentence, for mindful presence. ‘Exuberant is existence, time a husk’ – again in one sentence is summarised what many of us practice for: to be able to meet the wonder of life with wholehearted engagement right here, right now and to let go of torturing ourselves with thoughts of the past and future. ‘You will come to see that all evolves us’ – if we sign up for the project that he is inviting us to, Rumi guarantees that everything will be potent with contribution towards our ripening as human beings. And this line, which simply bursts my heart open – ‘If you put your heart against the earth with me…’ – what a call! To revere, honour and love Mother Earth who gives us everything that supports us to live and to surrender to our earthliness with all the pain that brings. And then, to turn towards all creatures as a ‘Warrior of Compassion’ (as we call it in our Mindfulness Level 2 – Responding with Compassion), this being the path to becoming blessed with happiness. I for one am sold Rumi – let’s row for dear life!

PS. If you want to explore, meditate on and discuss poems such as this, consider the Mindfulness Association’s new Mindfulness Meets Mystical Poetry five-week course…

Photo by Kurt Liebhaeuser on Unsplash