{"id":466,"date":"2024-11-11T07:11:59","date_gmt":"2024-11-11T07:11:59","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/?post_type=episode_posts&p=466"},"modified":"2024-11-17T14:13:14","modified_gmt":"2024-11-17T14:13:14","slug":"episode-2-eyes-of-the-heart","status":"publish","type":"episode_posts","link":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/?episode_posts=episode-2-eyes-of-the-heart","title":{"rendered":"Episode 2: Eyes of the Heart"},"content":{"rendered":"

Eyes of the Heart\u00a0<\/em><\/h4>\n

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\u2019s death.\u00a0 We were to spend time in Konya which would coincide with the 700th anniversary of Rumi\u2019s death day, or birthday, as it is celebrated.\u00a0 I was still floating through this time, traveling with Sheila from Switzerland, the wife of Rudi the organist.\u00a0 We had met at the first intensive at Chartres the previous year and had connected as non-Americans.\u00a0 Although she was originally from Canada, I believe.\u00a0 I was grateful for her friendship during this time as she was aware of what had recently transpired in my life.\u00a0 We spent some hours together in Lausanne and attended Rudi\u2019s organ recital during the festival and now Sheila gently shepherded me among the pilgrims.<\/p>\n

I have only vague memories of those days in Turkey.\u00a0 They were intense, raw and new ,and the colors, smells and sounds were unusual and exotic.\u00a0 I loved the sound of the Imam calling the faithful to prayer in the early hours of the morning before dawn.\u00a0 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.\u00a0 I smelt rose perfume at Rumi\u2019s 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.\u00a0 My emotions were chaotic; whirling like the dervishes which entranced me.\u00a0 There were extraordinary resonances for me in Turkey.\u00a0 And I seemed open to receive them.<\/p>\n

I found the Zikrs<\/em> with Sufi groups who we were welcomed by, exhilarating and compelling.\u00a0 Performing a Zikr<\/em> 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 \u2013 a profound and deeply moving experience.\u00a0 In several cases and for no apparent reason, there was simply a recognition with some men and women whom I found facing me.\u00a0 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.\u00a0 And not only for me.\u00a0 Tears of recognition flowed for many of us.<\/p>\n

***<\/p>\n

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.\u00a0 It was entitled \u2018Eyes of the Heart\u2019.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

I realise now,
\n<\/em>that I touched the heart of the sacred\u2026
\n<\/em>during those days in Konya\u2026
\n<\/em>Or rather, it was my heart that was touched.<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Certainly my heart felt at the end
\n<\/em>that it had widened
\n<\/em>expanded to hold
\n<\/em>so many more beautiful eyes\u2026<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Eyes are the memory I have from Konya\u2026
\n<\/em>Deep soul-filled eyes.
\n<\/em>Portals, open to such depths
\n<\/em>calling me in. <\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>What a gifting to pour myself into so many eyes.
\n<\/em>So easily\u2026 and to have received\u2026so much\u2026
\n<\/em>through my own, tear-filled.<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

We sit beside each other these days\u2026
\n<\/em>looking out in the same direction.
\n<\/em>This we do with \u2018like-minded\u2019 \u2026 people we feel at ease with\u2026
\n<\/em>comfortable in old habits\u2026<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

Yet, gazing out as individuals there is no prospect
\n<\/em>of connecting with the One, of allowing the other
\n<\/em>to touch the vulnerable parts of our soul.
\n<\/em>And we are the poorer for this.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em>In Konya, even seated beside one another\u2026
\n<\/em>we looked into each other\u2019s eyes.
\n<\/em>Across the circle, holding the gaze\u2026
\n<\/em>which sometimes held the vibration of eternity.
\n<\/em>Thank you for that,\u00a0 for helping to heal my heart.<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

And then, there was the Hu\u2026.
\n<\/em>Sounding on the out-breath, the exhale.
\n<\/em>One morning our bodies and souls entrained in a vibration of multiple soundings of Huuuuuu\u2026\u2026<\/em>\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

At that moment, synchronised,
\n<\/em>united with the sound of Hu on the out- breath,
\n<\/em>we were one with the One
\n<\/em>And I, for one, didn\u2019t want it to end\u2026<\/em><\/p>\n

The longing for that almost perfect union remains\u2026
\n<\/em>in the ether, in the quintessence,
\n<\/em>in the eyes and ears of my heart.<\/em><\/p>\n

_________________________________________________________________________________________________<\/em><\/p>\n

Marilyn ..writing from Cape Town, South Africa<\/p>\n

Listening to the sound of the ocean\u2026 waves as ocean\u2026which unites us all.\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 30 November 2007<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A pilgrimage in September 2007 to Konya, Turkey. My Soul nourished with Rumi’s poetry, Sufi music and ritual. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"featured_media":468,"template":"","categories":[10],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-466","episode_posts","type-episode_posts","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-part-3-you-yourself-are-the-melody"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/episode_posts\/466","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/episode_posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/episode_posts"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/468"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=466"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=466"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mylisteningheart.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=466"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}