the Poetry of Rumi

These poems seemed the best example I've encountered thus far of a person that experiences the mystery in his life, every day. Each of his poems captured that much sought after "joie de vivre" which we discuss in class so often. Rum takes joy in every day experiences, suggesting that it is within the ordinary, not necessarily exceptional, that fills us up spiritually. "Until you've kept your eyes and your wanting still for fifty years, you don't begin to cross over from confusion." (Rumi, Anthology, 784) This idea runs counterintuitive to the mindset most of us adopt in college. We come here to do great things, in order to learn about ourselves and the world around us. Becoming still, learning to enjoy what seems to us mundane, is very difficult, as we rush to swallow one new experience after the other. I am certainly guilty of living life in a rush. The problem here, is that once you create the habit of rushing through life, even those experiences you'd consider extraordinary are never fully appreciated.

My grandfather, Newell Kinard (I call him Paw), is not a man most people would consider extraordinary. He has lived his entire life in north Texas, graduated from Paris Junior College with a master's in agriculture, and spent the majority of his life doing manual labor. He fought in World War II, was married to the same woman for almost 60 years, and has lived in the same home since he and my grandmother were married. Yet my grandfather, despite never having travelled around the world or becoming a lawyer or physician, is the wisest, most insightful man I know. He has this ability to cut right to the heart of any problem in a few simple words, and it's astounding. He is 90 years old, and only recently began to show that he was a day over 50. He is a true testament to  the idea that clean, simple living is underrated.

my sister and mom, with paw at the bottom.

As Plan II, college age kids, we tend to overcomplicate and overanalyze. As we attempt to find ourselves, we lose what we knew about ourselves before. "I have lived on the lip of insanity, wanting to know reasons, knocking on a door. It opens. I've been knocking from the inside." (Rumi, Anthology, 785) The image of banging down a door, only to find that you were inside all along, is extremely powerful for someone feeling like they've lost their way. I experienced this exact sequence of emotion this year, in my attempts to figure out my major, and seeing that it was written by Rumi centuries ago was at once a shock and relief. As Bump has pointed out, we are not the first to experience these emotions. If someone ever said to my grandfather, "I have to find myself", he'd reply, "well make sure you start where you saw you the last." (That's a direct quote, btw)

College students also seem to forget the importance of having your roots firmly placed. "Anyone pulled from a source longs to go back." (Rumi, Anthology, 780) Once again, I have a tendency to under appreciate my home and roots. In fact, many times, I have tried to hide them. I didn't necessarily want people to know how southern my family was, or how I grew up. But the south, and the southern mentality, is my home and my roots. I want to start acknowledging that. What's more, I want to begin living in joy: to recognize the beauty in the previously mundane. If I can do that, It'll make the extraordinary that much greater.