I am part of the load
Not rightly balanced
I drop off in the grass,
like the old Cave-sleepers, to browse
wherever I fall.
For hundreds of thousands of years I have been dust-grains
floating and flying in the will of the air,
often forgetting ever being
in that state, but in sleep
I migrate back. I spring loose
from the four-branched, time-and-space cross,
this waiting room.
I walk into a huge pasture
I nurse the milk of millenia
Everyone does this in different ways.
Knowing that conscious decisions
and personal memory
are much too small a place to live,
every human being streams at night
into the loving nowhere, or during the day,
in some absorbing work.
— Coleman Barks (tr.), The Essential Rumi (1995), p. 273 Mathnawi, VI.216-217
Diary ni Gracia: Everyday responsibilities and stress sometimes cause us to hibernate and curl up in our own shell; free from the touch of the world. We try to shield ourselves from all the pressure but realizing that a person is innately sociable and adaptable to any kind of situation. One good cry is enough to stand up once more, dust off ourselves and prepare to start a fresh, new day.