Today I share not my words, but those of Naomi Shihab Nye, the third verse of a poem about her Uncle Mohammed. These lines speak to me of the need to make my world smaller. They remind me that even as I engage with life and responsibilities and relationships, I can make choices. I can choose to push distractions aside and attend to what matters. I can find that ‘quiet place in the swirl’, pursue the inner quiet necessary to live an undiluted life.
Maybe you had other reasons.
Maybe you didn’t go up the mountain because you were angry.
This is what I am learning, the voice I hear when I wake at 3 a.m.
It says, Teach me how little I need to live
and I can’t tell if it is me talking, or you,
or the walls of the room. How little, how little,
and the world jokes and says, how much.
Money, events, ambitions, plans, oh Uncle,
I have made myself a quiet place in the swirl.
I think you would like it.
Yesterday I learned how many shavings of wood the knife discards
to leave one smoothly whittled spoon.
Today I read angles of light through the window,
first they touch the floor, then the bed,
til everything is luminous, curtains flung wide.
As for friends, they are fewer and dearer,
and the ones who remain seem also to be climbing mountains
in various ways, though we dream we will meet at the top.
Will you be there?
Gazing out over valleys and olive orchards
telling us to sit, sit,
you expected us all along.
Naomi Shihab Nye (from For Mohammed on the Mountain)