104

104a

The poet Rumi was born on 30 Sept 1207, which would make today his 800th birthday. I was first introduced to his moving, resonant poetry several years ago when a book of his poetry leapt off the bookshelf into my arms while visiting my son in Los Angeles. Hard to choose my favorite Rumi poem, but this one seems to fit today:

Be with those who help your being.
Don’t sit with indifferent people, whose breath
comes cold out of their mouths.
Not these visible forms, your work is deeper.
A chunk of dirt thrown in the air breaks to pieces.
If you don’t try to fly,
and so break yourself apart,
you will be broken open by death,
when it’s too late for all you could become.
Leaves get yellow. The tree puts out fresh roots
and makes them green.
Why are you so content with a love that turns you yellow?

Ode 2865 Trans. Coleman Barks

5 104 1 erased

Color1

Color3

Color4

Ferns

Soon enough, they’ll start cutting these:

Christmastrees2

~~~~~~~~~

She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.

4 Comments

  1. Mrs Mediocrity

    Yes, you did. good for you. I would have said okay, and then just used my own picture. I think. Well, maybe I would have used hers too, it’s hard to say. You are a good daughter.

  2. Julie Daley

    what Mrs. Mediocrity said… you are a good daughter.

  3. SquarePegKaren

    Ohmyword! I can see and hear this going on — love it!! And the comments: Jeanne is a good egg — hahahaha!! Funny, funny folks!!

  4. Sally G.

    You may not be aware of this yet ~ but your Mom is learning a lot from you right now. And it strikes me here that she is practicing ‘how to be Brave’, because she sees you doing it, and admires what she sees.

    There’s a shift happening Jeanne. In a similar situation with someone I know for whom ‘optics are everything, the perception of others defines who you are, etc.’ ~ she’d have gotten upset/angry and refused to budge until she’d seen me actually delete the picture that ‘flaunted’ the fact she could not fry an egg properly. (Her interpretation of events, of course.)

    Keep being Brave. Keep being You. What a gift for your mother …

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