today is the birthday of Jalal ad-Din Muhammed Balhki, otherwise known as none other than the most amazing, THE GREAT SUFI poet, RUMI. my heavens did this man ever know what to say. how did he know, how did he get is so right? "out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there"? or, " lovers don't finally meet somewhere, they're in each other all along"? why can't it be so easy? why can't Love be pahretty fucking simple, like you just look at it and you're like oh wow that's Love, there it is and that's that, till the end of time. i mean, shouldn't it be? or i guess it already is?
it's possible that i read too much Rumi, it's possible he made it all up, maybe Love really isn't that all-consuming, maybe it really is just our brain and useless chemicals that make us think we'll fling ourselves off a cliff for THAT Love.
if i felt that way, i wouldn't love Rumi. i think that there are no human words to describe how wonderfully right and wonderfully wonderful LOVE is, but he was pretty fucking close.
