for a gift to bring You.
Nothing seemed right.
What’s the point of bringing gold to
the gold mine, or water to the ocean.
Everything I came up with was like
It’s no good giving my heart and my
soul because you already have these.
So I’ve brought you a mirror.
Look at yourself and remember me.
Are you jealous of the ocean’s generosity?
Why would you refuse to give
this joy to anyone?
Fish don’t hold the sacred liquid in cups!
They swim the huge fluid freedom.
Rumi was attributed to stating we all walk along the surf, holding our hems up high so as to not get wet, when what we should do is strip ourselves and dive under, naked, and dive deep. Skinny dipping puns aside, I think there is something to sit on about his statements. When I think of holding something in a sacred cup, couldn’t that be my self-defined boundary, a set parameter I created and I follow to make sure I don’t cross over a line, or no one else comes through a line I’ve drawn, no one (myself included) thereby following the boundaries I created and holding everything in that “cup…” What is the greater risk and what presents the possibility of the greater loss? Surely, staying within the self-ascribed boundary I prevent myself from getting hurt, and one may be able to argue that what I don’t know I don’t miss.
But even still, why risk not growing simply for the sake of not willing to become knowing? I see this especially with my approach to relationships and friendships – it’s been “easier” to keep a person at an arm’s distance, because the pain of disappointment hurts. But does the pain from someone hurt more than the hollowness that comes with disconnection and loneliness? In refusing to give joy to another person, I refuse to swim in my own freedom of fluidity, and restrict my own access to joy.