The Door is Always Open

Spring overall. But inside us

there's another unity.

Behind each eye here,

one glowing weather.

Every forest branch moves differently

In the breeze, but as they sway

they connect at the roots.

Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks
 

A gentle steady rain this morning and a small wren stopped by to sit on my stoop for a visit. So small I'm sure I would have missed him on other mornings. But today is a day off from saving the world and I have the psychic energy to notice a thing or two. The roses drooping in the weather, lady's mantle beaded with drops of rain, glistening like diamonds even on a cloudy day. Best of all, the voice of an old friend over the radio waves. I picked up the phone and while Crooked Still sang about Wading Deep Waters, she and I caught up, compared schedules and talked about a mutual friend who is emerging from the depths of grief.

I recently got around to reading Coleman Bark's introduction to his volume the Soul of Rumi and learned that Rumi became a prolific poet and dancer in response to his grief over the death of his friend and teacher, Sham. (It couldn't have helped that Rumi's son may have participated in the murder.) So, that longing for the friend was both a search for that indefinable energy of the All and a longing for those specific earthly experiences. The sound of one particular voice, a favorite song, the overly loud laughter with friends comparing versions of old stories of youth… Maybe I am in better company than I realized.

So sometimes it is grief that keeps my eyes averted, prevents me from seeing the wren stopping by for a visit. More often it is that internal grief; belief that I have to work harder to be worthy of the friend that keeps me wrapped up in a schedule that leaves no time for the deeper human contact. And yet, as it is with life and friendship, the door is often still open. A simple 'yoo hoo, anyone home' enough for a reconnection. So glad the long lost friends often aren't really lost after all.

I am wading deep waters trying to get home…