Dearest Tova, Sometimes when I hear your voice, I don't know how to respond. What you experience each day is so different from what I experience that I don't know if I can find that place in me that will meet with you where you are.
After reading your last e-mail, I knew I didn't have the words I needed to send back to you. I sent out a hope for something to come to me that I might share with you, something that might ease your burden just a little. Yesterday my son asked me to take him to our favorite bookstore. As I was browsing there, I found a book of poems by Rumi. In reading the book last night, I found the words I was looking for. Here are two poems from Rumi, through me, to you. ---- The way of love is not a subtle argument. The door there is devastation. Birds make great sky-circles of their freedom. How do they learn it? They fall, and falling, they're given wings. ---- I was happy enough to stay still inside the pearl inside the shell, but the hurricane of experience lashed me out of hiding and made me a wave moving into shore, saying loudly the ocean's secret as I went, and then spent there, I slept like fog against the cliff, another stillness. ---- Much love, Julie * * ========================================================== [email protected] ------------------------------ To subscribe, unsubscribe, change your options, view the archives of [email protected], Visit: http://listserv.boisestate.edu/archives/oslist.html
