That broken-open lowliness is the reality,
not the language! Forget phraseology.
I want burning, burning!
Be friends with your burning.
Burn up your thinking,
and your forms of expression!
–Rumi
Photo by Emily O'Dell
Last night, after our team served hundreds of meals to the poor, we were treated to quite a show by two very talented Lebanese performers, who lit the night on fire–literally. Parents, children, volunteers–we all found ourselves skipping behind them, like an old time carnival, as they breathed fire like dragons in the parking lot, performed acrobatic feats on the stage, and danced back to the streets to call it a night–with the puppets! The giant puppets!
Because serving the poor doesn’t have to be a somber affair–it can be fun, for everyone. So bring on the puppets! And the fire-breathers, magicians, and whirling dervishes! Why not light the night on fire every night–with love and compassion for the most needy among us? Because that’s what Ramadan is all about–a month of cultivating compassion for the poor through fasting, and reaching out to the most vulnerable in the community by serving food.
This evening, when I returned home from serving dinner to hundreds of Syrian refugees (an incredible experience), I remembered this Rumi poem about burning…and felt like sharing it…
My Burning Heart
My heart is burning with love
All can see this flame
My heart is pulsing with passion
like waves on an ocean.
My friends have become strangers,
and I’m surrounded by enemies.
But I’m free as the wind–
no longer hurt by those who reproach me.
I’m at home wherever I am,
And in the room of lovers
I can see with closed eyes
the beauty that dances
behind the veils,
intoxicated with love.
I too dance the rhythm
of this moving world.
I have lost my senses
in my world of lovers.
–Rumi
Photo by Emily O'Dell
