Alexandersmap

    Tag: Shams-ud-din Muhammad Hafiz

    • Seeing the Magic

      Who can you tell in this world
      That when a dog runs up to you
      Wagging its ecstatic tail,
      You lean down and whisper in its ear,
      “Beloved,
      I am so glad You are happy to see me.
      Beloved,
      I am so glad,
      So very glad You have come.”
      — Hafiz, I Am So Glad

      Our spin through life is fraught with dangerous influences and evil spirits. It’s also filled with magical moments and joyful bits. Our lives are based on the stories we tell ourselves. If we become what we focus on the most, why aren’t more of us looking for the magic in our moments instead of the misery? Why are despair and disgust so prevalent, while delight and wonder are so quickly cast aside as frivolous pursuits? Who said the worst news of the day has to be our reality?

      This isn’t a call for us to collectively sink our heads in the sand. We all absorb the collective hits of the darkness enveloping parts of this world. But quietly running parallel to that darkness is progressive enlightenment. The rage that drives the very worst to action is fueled by that progress. So many prefer to focus on scarcity or the myth of the good old days instead of rolling up their sleeves and getting on with lifting our collective standards now. These are the good old days, despite the encroaching shadows.

      Hafiz saw God in a wagging tail. There’s magic in each moment, waiting for us to notice. This may seem trivial, but I’d argue that it’s essential. We lift our spirit when we feel the warm breeze on our skin, hear the song of a bird hidden in a tree, and when we see the universe in the wag of a tail. There will always be maddening news, while the timeless universe spins onward indifferent to our plight.

      The world is full of hope and despair, magic and misery. We find what we look for, and become what we focus on. The question forever will be: What do you see?

    • Let Your Steps Dance Silently

      And if your feet are ever mobile
      Upon this ancient drum, the earth,
      O do not let your precious movements
      Come to naught.
      Let your steps dance silently
      To the rhythm of the Beloved’s Name!
      — Hafiz, A Wild, Holy Band

      It’s easy to slip into dark places in a world where insulin and baby formula cost more per gallon than gasoline or whiskey. It’s easy to slide sideways into despair watching the news or scrolling Twitter. To grow impatient and angry with all that is wrong in the world. For that is what they want of us. To divide and provoke for personal profit seems to be the growth model of the dark side of humanity.

      And yet we might dance across our time on earth as steady unifiers. We might tread softly in beautiful places and leave it as we found it as a quiet gift for those who follow us. In our silently determined way leave a message of hope for generations well beyond us to use as an anchor in their own time. Even in the darkest days we may still shine a light on something others might have missed, and offer a lifeline for those who are drowning in the stream of horror and outrage.

      Surely, we can’t dance lightly across time with a heavy heart, and the world offers plenty of reasons for us to despair. But at the very same moment, while we’re focused so intently on one bit of misery, the universe offers hope and love and a reason to carry on just beyond the corner of our eye. Which do we focus on? For that is what we become.

      We are Pilgrims for hope and love and spirituality. We dance across our time offering a lifeline for those who might otherwise drown in the dark. Don’t mistake the dance as blithe ignorance, but as silent vigilance. We’re here to hold it all together, not to run off the cliff waving our arms and screaming in despair. We’re here to dance with life and in our courage draw others out onto the dance floor with us. To use our dance across our time as an inspiration for others to rise.

    • The Encouragement of Light

      I’ve come late to Hafiz, and that both saddens and delights me. Three writers I’m following separately pointed me towards his poetry, and I finally woke up and paid attention. Where was that attention all those years when Hafiz was right there all the time? But that’s the way life is in all things. Writing came to me late too, even though I knew it was there waiting. So instead of sadness I delight in the discovery:

      “How

      Did the rose

      Ever open its heart

      And give to this world

      All its

      Beauty?

      It felt the encouragement of light

      Against its

      Being,

      Otherwise,

      We all remain

      Too

      Frightened.”

      – Hafiz, It Felt Love