Day 192 of 365 - Disillusionment, A Good Thing
Fair warning: this will be a bit longer than usual post in which I quote a few of the Sufi poet Rumi's works to illustrate points. If that has no appeal for you, feel free to take a pass.
At the time it happens, disillusionment does not seem like a good thing. Remember the letdown of finding out that Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny were not real? So disappointing; but, we survived.
Then the bar is raised. Follow the rules, get a good education and career, our future will be financially secure. Recessions happen. Jobs are lost. It seems nothing is guaranteed.
If we get married or find a life partner and raise a family, we will all live happily every after. Relationships end. Infertility happens. Family life is chaos.
Who signed us up for this and made all these promises that could not be kept? Well, you could be esoteric about it and acknowledge that on some level, you agreed to be born into this life you are living to experience some soul lessons. Sufi poet, Rumi, from the 13th century, offers some perspective.
Who Says Words With My Mouth
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere.
I am sure of that, and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place, I'll be completely sober.
Meanwhile, I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off, but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.
(abridged)
With each passing decade of life, we seem to experience different kinds of disillusionment, which bring an end to our naive innocence and the belief that we control our world and life. But, it's really not all bad. Every episode of disenchantment is another form of awakening and an opportunity to grow and develop our identity. The obstacles and challenges of life push our edges and ask us to live more fully.
Bewilderment
There are many guises for intelligence.
One part of you is gliding in a high windstream,
while your more ordinary notions
take little steps and peck at the ground.
Conventional knowledge is death to our souls,
and it is not really ours. It is laid on.
Yet we keep saying we find "rest" in these "beliefs".
We must become ignorant of what we have been taught and be instead bewildered.
Run from what is profitable and comfortable.
Distrust anyone who praises you.
Give your investment money, and the interest on the capital, to those who are actually destitute.
Forget safety. Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation. Be notorious.
I have tried prudent planning long enough.
From now on, I'll be mad.
Perhaps, when we've lived long enough and gone through our stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance about life's disillusionment, we can appreciate this third perspective from Rumi.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all.
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
(Many thanks to author Coleman Barks works, based on other translations.)
At the time it happens, disillusionment does not seem like a good thing. Remember the letdown of finding out that Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny were not real? So disappointing; but, we survived.
Then the bar is raised. Follow the rules, get a good education and career, our future will be financially secure. Recessions happen. Jobs are lost. It seems nothing is guaranteed.
If we get married or find a life partner and raise a family, we will all live happily every after. Relationships end. Infertility happens. Family life is chaos.
Who signed us up for this and made all these promises that could not be kept? Well, you could be esoteric about it and acknowledge that on some level, you agreed to be born into this life you are living to experience some soul lessons. Sufi poet, Rumi, from the 13th century, offers some perspective.
Who Says Words With My Mouth
All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea. My soul is from elsewhere.
I am sure of that, and I intend to end up there.
This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place, I'll be completely sober.
Meanwhile, I'm like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off, but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.
(abridged)
With each passing decade of life, we seem to experience different kinds of disillusionment, which bring an end to our naive innocence and the belief that we control our world and life. But, it's really not all bad. Every episode of disenchantment is another form of awakening and an opportunity to grow and develop our identity. The obstacles and challenges of life push our edges and ask us to live more fully.
Bewilderment
There are many guises for intelligence.
One part of you is gliding in a high windstream,
while your more ordinary notions
take little steps and peck at the ground.
Conventional knowledge is death to our souls,
and it is not really ours. It is laid on.
Yet we keep saying we find "rest" in these "beliefs".
We must become ignorant of what we have been taught and be instead bewildered.
Run from what is profitable and comfortable.
Distrust anyone who praises you.
Give your investment money, and the interest on the capital, to those who are actually destitute.
Forget safety. Live where you fear to live.
Destroy your reputation. Be notorious.
I have tried prudent planning long enough.
From now on, I'll be mad.
Perhaps, when we've lived long enough and gone through our stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance about life's disillusionment, we can appreciate this third perspective from Rumi.
The Guest House
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all.
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
(Many thanks to author Coleman Barks works, based on other translations.)
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