Lovers

Let the lover be disgraceful, crazy,
absentminded. Someone sober
will worry about things going badly.
Let the lover be. ~Rumi

If intimate connection could be a religion, I would try to worship at that church. To me, most things pale in comparison to the richness of truly getting to know a person—the geniuses, scars, contradictions and all. I am embarrassed to say that I am only just understanding the ins and outs of true love (no dirty pun intended here, although I think the vulnerability required is just as naked, just as raw and messy). I’d like to accept love in all its confusing glory, instead of telling myself I am crazy for having such feelings, or worse yet, trying to fit it in to some small box where it could live happily ever after with my preconceptions of problem-free friendships, stable marriages, and parents who never disappoint. It seems instead to require both warrior skills and meekness. And lots of faith and patience. And a commitment not just to be there for another person, but also a willingness to confront the demons when they block the path, even if those demons happen to be inside yourself instead of the person you love (where we would prefer them to live).

So, of course I found my way to Jalaluddin Rumi. Perhaps you know of him—the 13th century Sufi poet whose firey love poems make Sade seem cold-hearted by comparison. He’s been read for centuries, but he’s enjoying a rebirth recently in the West (see esp.Coleman Barks). Lately, his words are ubiquitous on cards and journals, and they are still just a sampling of the tens of thousands of lines of poetry he wrote! But the detail I appreciate about Rumi is that his work and his life were inspired by a relationship of spiritual proportions. In simple but gorgeous language, his poetry describes a love affair with a mystic, a wild dervish named Shams-e Tabrizi. Ultimately, the story of the fateful relationship between this rogue sage, Shams, and a trained scholar and theologian, Rumi, is really the story of transcendent union. It describes a spiritual path, and the necessary death of the ego that accompanies the movement toward divine union with another. And it is no quiet storm; it is a violent disillusionment, a ripping away of the mask of false identity. As another Rumi scholar, Andrew Harvey, describes, “Rumi had to be shattered by Love to become Love itself, emptied and broken to be filled and remade, burnt away…” Their relationship was certainly unconventional, but the themes are universal.

Desperation, let me always know
How to welcome you
And put in your hands the torch
To burn down the house. ~Rumi

I know there are many paths and roads and means to enlightenment, to the realization of our true nature as Divine creatures. I’m trying them all! I’m at least considering them. But I can really relate to Rumi's portrait of love, which is not without its bloody fangs. And mostly, I like the idea—and I believe it—that true intimacy, truly loving, truly being present for someone can be the path itself.

As Rumi says, “Let your teacher be love itself.”