After getting home from work this evening, I did what I often do… read personal email, scanned through assorted e-newsletters, listened to bits of video presentations, and wondered…

There were so many things to consider. Predictions of the future flowed forth from analysis of the present and the past or sometimes from some divine downloadable source.

Each prediction set forth the idea that we are at a crossroads. Heaven or hell — the predictions seem to swing wildly between the two extremes.

I began to feel sad.

In my mind’s eye, I stepped back to the perspective of observer.  I had the sense of being both vulnerable and very strong. Not knowing, yet trusting. Trusting, because on some level there really is a knowing that all is working out just as it should.

I took a deep breath. All really is well, my wiser self advised the rest of me.

Then looking upon all of us together, I saw us as we truly are: vulnerable, wavering, often unwise, yet strong — and getting even stronger. And I felt trusting. As I looked upon us, my heart opened and I felt grateful.

Then the poetry of Rumi (Sufi Mystic 1207-1273 A.D.) came to mind…

Out Beyond Ideas
Jalaluddin Rumi
translation by Coleman Barks

Out beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing,
there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase
each other
doesn’t make any sense.

What Was Said to the Rose
Jalaluddin Rumi
translation by Coleman Barks

What was said to the rose that made it open
was said to me here in my chest.

What was told the Cypress that made it strong
and straight, what was

whispered the jasmine so it is what it is, whatever made
sugarcane sweet, whatever

was said to the inhabitants of the town of Chigil in
Turkestan that makes them

so handsome, whatever lets the pomegranate flower blush
like a human face, that is

being said to me now. I blush. Whatever put eloquence in
language, that’s happening here.

The great warehouse doors open; I fill with gratitude,
chewing a piece of sugarcane,

in love with the one to whom every that belongs!