books, poetry, trust

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing
and rightdoing there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.

I first met Rumi on a day when I was feeling depressed, distressed and utterly hopeless. I think it was on a day when I’d learned that my sister’s cancer had taken a turn for  the worse and I knew intuitively that there would be no healing that could save her.

I sat down to catalogue some books for listing. I used to sell used books on the internet. The first book I’d picked up was The Essential Rumi. Beautiful cover, like an oriental carpet. I cracked it open to check its condition, and was greeted with a flutter of rose petals falling gently to my lap. Someone had loved this book. I had to investigate why. I started reading the page I’d opened. And wouldn’t you know, what I was reading applied directly to what I was feeling, like an invisible cord between me and the page. I didn’t catalogue any books that day. I spent the day with Rumi instead. And placed him on my bookshelf when I was done.

I always read poetry by randomly opening a page. This method never disappoints. I love randomness. Just finding things, not neccessarily seeking out. It’s why I do collage. It takes alot of trust to believe that you will find exactly what the situation dictates, like some secret voice is directing somewhere, ommniscient and all knowing. You give up the folly of control and preconceived notions and find out your own truths instead of letting so called rules dicate them for you.

Which is why I chose that particular Rumi verse at the top.


Is it fall, already? Yeah, I think so. Not that I mind. Just give me some sunny and crispy days. And some pumpkin muffins.


Love it when C. brings me French…er, Belgian Fries from
here. Best fries ever.

I am in love with this site. The owl tees in particular. She’s got a great list of links, too.


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August 2006
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