Times of Trouble = Times of Transition?

It's not easy to stay awake and mindful in times of trouble and see them as the great opportunity they may actually be. I do my best to try and use my momentary difficulties to rethink and let go of old patterns, to purge and be intentional about what my "new normal" may be once I'm feeling stronger and clearer again.... and yet I feel lost and exhausted from time to time, so endlessly tired, wondering when exactly these strange days will be over. Maybe it's just the "winter blues", maybe there's more to it, maybe some answers are trying to find me... i really don't know.

Grief and sadness, fear and failure, loss and pain — they are all part of being human — and I'm aware it's up to myself how I decide to deal with the sources of my suffering. I can put up resistance but there's no way I can protect myself over any length of time. Life happens, sorrow will always find me. I know that when I struggle with what I cannot change, I'm bound to lose my joy as much as my spirit — I'm very aware of that — so all I can do right now is accept my own powerlessness and surrender to the moment, unconditionally, allowing myself to feel whatever it is I feel without creating a story, any kind of drama, around it.

Sometimes it's tough, though. I sit with the pain, I breathe, I try not to react, not to add to it in any way... and still find myself caught up in thoughts, in spite of my good intentions. Thoughts of hopelessness, of doubt, or self-pity. It's tempting to give in to the seemingly overwhelming pain — but in the end, I don't. In the end I'm always stronger than I think. Somewhere deep down I know that even though it might feel as if I'm stuck, I'm actually growing during these experiences that make me fall apart, that force me to question my priorities and make me leave my comfort zone.

Those are the moments when I have no choice but to surrender to the pain — surrender to change — and choose a different way to deal with these times of transition. Facing my doubts, losses and fears, instead of running away from them, allowing for my "self" to be broken open, looking at it as a chance, a new beginning — who knows, there's always the possibility that it's worth it, right?

On reed flutes, sugarcane and myself

I am sad. I am upset. I feel lost somehow. Torn. Deep down I'm happy. Deep down I'm blue. I feel as if I'm moving in circles, yet if I look closer I can see they are open spirals, leading me only god knows where ... I experience change and I know it's inevitable ... but to let go of what one held so dear, it's never done easily – I do have faith though, don't get me wrong ... nothing happens without reason, there is meaning in everything we go through and while sometimes we hurt so much, time will always tell and help us understand ... it's that thought I cling to when the pain and disappointment seem so overwhelming at times.

Meanwhile I'm trying to find comfort and balance, and reading Rumi always calms me down. Here is something I came across and somehow it seems to express how I feel, representing my thoughts and emotions so well ... and the last bit of this, the part that starts "Don't come near me!" ... well, it's how it must feel to stand on the other side ... how it must feel to be the other person involved in this separation that still seems so senseless and crazy to me ...

Now, here's "Rumi on Separation" for you:

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The Reed Flute's Song

Listen to the story told by the reed,
of being separated.

"Since I was cut from the reedbed,
I have made this crying sound.

Anyone apart from someone he loves
understands what I say.

Anyone pulled from a source
longs to go back.

At any gathering I am there,
mingling in the laughing and grieving,

a friend to each, but few
will hear the secrets hidden

within the notes. No ears for that.
Body flowing out of spirit,

spirit up from the body: no concealing
that mixing. But it's not given us

to see the soul. The reed flute
is fire, not wind. Be that empty."

Hear the love fire tangled
in the reed notes, as bewilderment

melts into wine. The reed is a friend
to all who want the fabric torn

and drawn away. The reed is hurt
and salve combining. Intimacy

and longing for intimacy, one
song. A disasterous surrender

and a fine love, together. The one
who secretly hears this is senseless.

A tongue has one customer, the ear.
A sugarcane flute has such effect

because it was able to make sugar
in the reedbed. The sound it makes

is for everyone. Days full of wanting,
let them go by without worrying

that they do. Stay where you are
inside such a pure, hollow note.

Every thirst gets satisfied except
that of these fish, the mystics,

who swim a vast ocean of grace
still somehow long for it!

No one lives in that without
being nourished everyday.

But if someone doesn't want to hear
the song of the reed flute,

it's best to cut conversation
short, and say good-bye, and leave.

We know separation so well because we've tasted the union. The reed flute makes music because it has already experienced changing mud and rain and light into sugarcane. Longing becomes more poignant if in the distance you can't tell whether your friend is going away or coming back. The pushing away pulls you in.

Don't come near me!

Sometimes I forget completely
what companionship is
unconscious and insane, I spill sad
energy everywhere. My story
gets told in various ways: a romance,
a dirty joke, a war, a vacancy.

Divide up my forgetfulness to any number,
it will go around.
These dark suggestions that I follow,
are they part of some plan?
Friends be careful. Don't come near me
out of curiosity, or sympathy.

(Rumi)