“So that’s how we live our lives. No matter how deep and fatal the
loss, no matter how important the thing that’s stolen from us – that’s
snatched right out of our hands – even if we are left completely
changed, with only the outer layer of skin from before, we continue to
play out our lives this way, in silence. We draw ever nearer to the
end of our allotted span of time, bidding it farewell as it trails off
behind. Repeating, often adroitly, the endless deeds of the everyday.
Leaving behind a feeling of insurmountable emptiness…
Maybe, in some distant place, everything is already, quietly, lost.
Or at least there exists a silent place where everything can
disappear, melting together in a single, overlapping figure. And as
we live our lives we discover – drawing toward us the thin threads
attached to each – what has been lost. I closed my eyes and tried to
bring to mind as many beautiful lost things as I could. Drawing them
closer, holding on to them. Knowing all the while that their lives
are fleeting.” ( Haruki Murakami, ‘Sputnik Sweetheart’)
Have you ever felt …the perfection of a moment…and the fleeting nature of it , the next day ?Did it make you cry ? Did you burn ?
The accidental sufi has. She cried. She burned.
For she knew, in order to rises from her own ashes, she needed to burn first. Like the phoenix bird.
She rose to claim the Sun 🙂
NB :The phoenix bird is pictured in ancient and medieval literature and medieval art as endowed with a nimbus, which emphasizes the bird’s connection with the sun. In the oldest images of phoenixes on record these nimbuses often have seven rays, like Helios, who is the personified Sun of Greek mythology.