Weighed or Counted?
Rumi, a 13thcentury Persian poet, is just but one voice in the mystical tradition ofwriting Sufi poetry. Sufi's are lovers of the truth. Through love and devotion they seek to become one with their beloved.
Rumi wrote, “God, long ago, drew a circle in the sand; exactly around the spot where you are standing right now.” Meaning, that you were always coming here, to this exact spot in time and you must know, that whatever is happening in this moment, was always going to happen. In this spot of life, in this circle of sand where you are right now, what is happening and for what purpose?
As you move through the moments of your days, do you ever ask yourself: “How do I measure this moment and the ones that follow? Do I allow this and other moments to matter enough to me to consider it worthy of being counted as valuable or do I weigh its worth, debating whether or not it is forgettable? And, in this moment, in this exact space where my feet meet the ground, uniting with the universe and as my eyes look ahead, seeking to define the future, do I allow myself the luxury of recognizing God’s presence, right now, taking pause to ingest this moment’s meaning?
It is incredibly easy to become lost in the fabric of your day, of your life. So many things happen. Each of us has a daily agenda. Some of us are pragmatic enough to have a multi-year life plan, determining how life will result if we follow specific routes.
But for those of you who move through life, aligning with daily duties, are you willing to acknowledge how many meaningful moments pass you by? Most people don’t think this way. It takes too much effort to pay attention to the smaller experiences, let alone the ones that smack you right in the face, forcing you to stop and pay attention. In my opinion, it is often in the minute moments of life, the moments that fade vaporously into time, that are the most significant opportunities of enlightenment.
A 34-year old client of mine finally found clarity about his future. For the first time, he felt passionate about a decision he was making. He made phone calls, met with prospective employers and even allowed himself to take pride in the direction that he was moving. Despite his perseverance, the doors of that opportunity shut for him. He fell back into the familiar sadness and gloom. Disillusionment had gotten hold of him and he willingly gave in.
It took him a while to hear my message about the meanings of the experience. I explained that not being allowed to move forward, in his defined direction, wasn’t a tragedy it was a success; because he trusted himself enough to pursue his desire. That is wasn’t a reason to shut down; rather, it was a chance to awaken himself to other possibilities. That he could, for the first time in his life, recognize what if felt like to have passion. I also asked that he consider how pain and disappointment signify the opportunity for growth and learning, believing that something better is just around the corner for him. And finally, I simply said, “it just wasn’t meant to be and that it was going to be alright.” He came into the session weighing his experience and left the session counting it.
For so many of us, we climb into the cozy arms of grief, monotony, and disappointment and camp out. And while in this space, it is almost impossible to see your life being different. But if someone who has experienced something similar to what you have, says to you, “I have been where you are. In time, you, too, will climb out of the snug arms of your pain and see the world with light rather than darkness; full of chance and promise; decorated with possibility and prosperity,” perhaps, you can allow yourself to consider their message to have meaning. And rather than weigh its worth, you count it as worthy.