Eyes of the Heart
So it was that I found myself in Turkey with a bus load of students from Wisdom University again, less than two months since I had left Chartres in a hurry because of my mother’s death. We were to spend time in Konya which would coincide with the 700th anniversary of Rumi’s death day, or birthday, as it is celebrated. I was still floating through this time, traveling with Sheila from Switzerland, the wife of Rudi the organist. We had met at the first intensive at Chartres the previous year and had connected as non-Americans. Although she was originally from Canada, I believe. I was grateful for her friendship during this time as she was aware of what had recently transpired in my life. We spent some hours together in Lausanne and attended Rudi’s organ recital during the festival and now Sheila gently shepherded me among the pilgrims.
I have only vague memories of those days in Turkey. They were intense, raw and new ,and the colors, smells and sounds were unusual and exotic. I loved the sound of the Imam calling the faithful to prayer in the early hours of the morning before dawn. And at sunset the family restaurant, where Sheila and I found ourselves the only foreigners, suddenly emptied as the call to prayer was answered en masse. I smelt rose perfume at Rumi’s shrine and was surprised by my own tears when I stood in front of an illuminated copy of the Koran, with the text dancing like musical notes in front of me. My emotions were chaotic; whirling like the dervishes which entranced me. There were extraordinary resonances for me in Turkey. And I seemed open to receive them.
I found the Zikrs with Sufi groups who we were welcomed by, exhilarating and compelling. Performing a Zikr involved slowly moving around in a circle to the sound of a sufi drum accompanying the plaintive cry of the Ney reed flute, and performing heart-connecting ritual with each person found in front of me – a profound and deeply moving experience. In several cases and for no apparent reason, there was simply a recognition with some men and women whom I found facing me. An electric charge passed between us connecting our hearts, and it felt like a deep knowing in my soul. The recognition was so powerful it was impossible to stop my tears. And not only for me. Tears of recognition flowed for many of us.
***
I found a text that I had written on my return to Cape Town, for inclusion in a booklet compiled by participants on our pilgrimage to Turkey. It was entitled ‘Eyes of the Heart’.
I realise now,
that I touched the heart of the sacred…
during those days in Konya…
Or rather, it was my heart that was touched.
Certainly my heart felt at the end
that it had widened
expanded to hold
so many more beautiful eyes…
Eyes are the memory I have from Konya…
Deep soul-filled eyes.
Portals, open to such depths
calling me in.
What a gifting to pour myself into so many eyes.
So easily… and to have received…so much…
through my own, tear-filled.
We sit beside each other these days…
looking out in the same direction.
This we do with ‘like-minded’ … people we feel at ease with…
comfortable in old habits…
Yet, gazing out as individuals there is no prospect
of connecting with the One, of allowing the other
to touch the vulnerable parts of our soul.
And we are the poorer for this.
In Konya, even seated beside one another…
we looked into each other’s eyes.
Across the circle, holding the gaze…
which sometimes held the vibration of eternity.
Thank you for that, for helping to heal my heart.
And then, there was the Hu….
Sounding on the out-breath, the exhale.
One morning our bodies and souls entrained in a vibration of multiple soundings of Huuuuuu……
At that moment, synchronised,
united with the sound of Hu on the out- breath,
we were one with the One
And I, for one, didn’t want it to end…
The longing for that almost perfect union remains…
in the ether, in the quintessence,
in the eyes and ears of my heart.
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Marilyn ..writing from Cape Town, South Africa
Listening to the sound of the ocean… waves as ocean…which unites us all. 30 November 2007