Friday, March 28, 2003

War Heebie Jeebies & Rumi Soothing

You know, it is possible to get too wrapped up in war coverage and all that 'trying to keep abreast so you can argue with the woefully naive' routine.
Yesterday I unwittingly became war-inundated and it was starting to grate at my emotional nerves like hashbrowns-to-be over a French mandoline. I found myself ruminating far too much about the war and craving more. Not good.
What capped it all off was I decided to make an appointment with my GYN/oncologist, who in 2001 managed to save me from cancer with a total hysterectomy. It was time to see her again, I hadn't for a year or so and she's so damn cute I just kinda like those pelvic exams of hers.
So I called her beeper and her secretary called me back.
It seems my doctor Margarett, who is also an active duty U.S. Army Major, had been DEPLOYED TO KUWAIT last week. Felt like a knife to my heart.

What I find very unusual is, almost the same time I started reading up on this Iraqi war situation, I also was exposed to poetry written by an Islamic Tajikastani named Mowlana Jalaluddin Rumi, who was big on the Middle Eastern theology and poetry scene in the 1200's.
As many of you may already know, Rumi was sort of switched on by the whirling dervishes, founded the Mawlawi Sufi order and wrote some of the most extraordinarily beautiful, sexual and spiritual poetry I've ever read.
So all at once I am inundated with written and visual images of a war-torn savage land and soothed and inspired by an Islamic Sufi who lived eight centuries ago.

Compare and contrast:
• War news:
(March 28) - The biggest bombs dropped on Baghdad so far - two 4,700-pound "bunker busters'' -- struck a communications tower Friday in an intense U.S. bombardment aimed at cutting off Saddam Hussein's command from his forces.
• Rumi love poem:
Ode 314
Those who don't feel this Love pulling them like a river,
those who don't drink dawn like a cup of spring water
or take in sunset like supper,
those who don't want to change, 
let them sleep. 
This Love is beyond the study of theology, that old trickery and hypocrisy.
I you want to improve your mind that way, 
sleep on. 
I've given up on my brain.
I've torn the cloth to shreds and thrown it away. 
If you're not completely naked,
wrap your beautiful robe of words around you, 
and sleep. 

I think I need a little war break. It's Rumi time.

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