I think if an ancient human being was magically transported into this time of the world they might go mad instantly. It would not be so much from what they saw but from how noisy and intrusive the manufactured world is! Our animal selves are starving for the kind of sounds that allow our listening to the earth breathing as her heart beats. This is the band I think Hafiz is referring to in this poem. We might want to cut the crap and listen to
...Awake the real Band...
It takes a kind of discipline to limit the noise in our lives in all of its forms. Mental and recreational distraction are noise, too; these pull us away from what is naturally abundant in the world and what is a deeper and more substantial conversation involving how we feel. If we want we can make and hold space for the exchanges we want in our lives because there is no boundary to noise; no limit - except what we ourselves impose.
Thank you for listening.
Video: This is a little sample of the earth's healing sounds. It is ours for the listening if we choose.
The original post in this series of poems by Hafiz can be found here.
The Gift: Poems by Hafiz and translated by Daniel Ladinsky can be purchased here.
Commenti