Rumi says: “Today I wake up empty and frightened.”
Sunlight streams through the curtains, the roar of engines in the distance, while footsteps of the tenants above gather towards their day. I’m weary with the promise that it all might mean something. Doubt whispers in my ear.
“Don’t go to the door of the study and read a book.”
I reach for my iPhone, a pang of guilt stays my hand. Should I leap so readily into that cacophony of thoughts? The addictive hit of dopamine has always promised to fill the void – but we both know it never does. I’m adrift in directions, all of them led by intellect.
“Instead, take down the dulcimer, let the beauty of what you love be what you do.”
I sit on the edge of the bed, while two felines sleep sweetly beside me. My camera gear lays strewn about the floor, hastily unpacked after a redeye return. Memory cards. Lenses. Tripod. Laptop. Another film to edit. Another offering to place at Her feet.
“There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground, there are a thousand ways to go home again.”
I think: they never tell you the awakened heart is a burden. But let me tell you: in love is the only way to live.
Excerpted from my June newsletter.