Joy In The City

Yes. I’m writing a blog. Why not? I write every day anyway. Well most days. Everything is more fulfilling when shared, so I think it is time that I share more. I’ll share the comings and the goings of the thoughts that arise within me. Speaking of comings and goings, I read a poem today that knocked my socks off. I’m not sure I was wearing any, but it’s an expression. You’ll see how that’s related to comings and goings once you read it below. And I’ll tell you more about why it’s not my first time reading that poem, and maybe I’ll even go into all the reasons it touched me. Well, most likely not the reasons. I’ll just share it.

When it’s cold and raining,

You are more beautiful.

And the snow brings me

Even closer to your lips.

The inner secret, that which was never born,

You are that freshness, and I am with you now.

I can’t explain the goings,

Or the comings. You enter suddenly,

And I am nowhere again.

Inside the majesty.

That’s Rumi. I read that poem after my morning meditation:

10 minutes of silence and direct concentration on the flow of breath, chanting Om and then Om mani pad me hum, hitting my prayer bowl always a little tentatively, sitting by the light a couple candles.  

How many times have I read that poem? Lots. I also read a Rumi poem from A Year With Rumi Daily Readings trans. by Coleman Barks to complete my daily meditation. Yeah, I’ve read that poem a bunch of times, and have always kind of understood, on a cerebral level, that it’s about the comings and goings of deep devotion. Today, I’m sure that I understood it, for the first time, on the level from which such devotion comes. I read it a second time, and then instantly closed the book, got on my feet, and began twirling. Yup. Twirling. Crazy? A bit. I was a little girl in a poufy dress again. One that is perfect for spinning. You can spend an eternity spinning in one of those dresses. Closing your eyes and opening them again just to catch a glimpse of the whirl that you and your dress have become, time seems to have stopped altogether. Well I don’t own any of those dresses anymore. I haven’t in maybe 20 years.

This morning, I was wearing some old black sweat pants and t-shirt with the number 86 on it. Nothing majestic at all. Yet I spun and spun and spun until I physically couldn't. Then I blew out my candles, curled down in child’s pose to re-gain my equilibrium and decided that among the many things I would do today, I would begin this blog. And that I would carry the sweetness of my sudden devotion with me today, the kind that can not co-exist with fear or negativity.

Welcome to JOY IN THE CITY. It’s a blog about ME and finding true joy in a city that is at times as suffocating as it is magical, as refreshing as it is exhausting. Of course, this joy can’t be found externally, or even “found” at all. But I’ll be chronicling some tid-bits about how I’m not only surviving here, but thriving! 

It’s a crazy gem of a city, but remember that only YOU make it shine!