From the very first time I read this poem by Rumi, a 13th century Persian poet and Sufi mystic, I was fascinated by its lapidary. To capture so beautifully and succinctly the real meaning of love is truly a work of art and a gift I wish I had possessed. Even though I was instantaneously mesmerized by the form of this poem, it took me a while to fully understand its wisdom. Could being in love be that simple as closing one’s eyes and falling for it?
Love Under the Microscope
The idea of feeling love without having a current object of our affection seemed strange. Moreover, there was a question of the possibility of feeling love after experiencing a rejection, such as the end of a relationship, or a death of a loved one. And don’t forget the big one, feeling love when the world we know is crumbling down or, worse, takes us hostage.
Many people before me have been asking the question what is love and how to find it. They even devoted their whole lives to finding the answer. And the answers, sometimes, come in the most improbable circumstances.
Take Viktor Frankl an Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist and a Holocaust survivor. Frankl experienced his epiphany in a concentration camp, while thinking of his wife, of whom he hadn’t had any news since the day they were captured. In his famous book: Man’s Search for Meaning, that’s how he describes the revelation (emphasis are mine):
(…) for the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth – that love is the ultimate and the highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love. I understood how a man who has nothing left in this world still may know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved. (…)
A thought crossed my mind: I didn’t even know if she were still alive. I knew only one thing – which I have learned well by now: Love goes very far beyond the physical person of the beloved. It finds its deepest meaning in his spiritual being, his inner self.
These words felt particularly true earlier this year, when I was reading the Frankl’s book for my Positive Psychology course. Having lost two very important people last year – first my father, who passed away suddenly at the age of 63, and less than three months later my mother-in-law, only 64, who died of brain cancer – I’ve experienced firsthand the truth that love is not bound by the physical form, and in fact, transcendences it. Though my dad or MIL might not be here in person, the feelings I have when thinking of them are real and as strong as when the two of them were alive.
Love as a Universal Experience
My experience hasn’t been unique; in fact, a traumatic episode can often trigger profound changes in people’s lives. This was a case for Kristine Carlson, who’s book: “Heartbroken Open: A Memoir Through Loss to Self-Discovery” is a record of her copying mechanisms and insights that followed the sudden death of her husband Richard.
The expression “being heartbroken” usually has a negative connotation, indicating that a broken heart is damaged in some way. And yet, when we look at it from the transformation point of view, like an eggshell being broken by a growing chicken inside, the breakage doesn’t have to be negative. After all, if it wasn’t for the damaged eggshell, the chicken couldn’t have been born.
This is exactly the point Paul P. Pearsall makes in his fascinating book: “The Heart’s Code” when he explains the benefits of having one’s heart broken.
We cannot have our “heart broken” unless we have extended it and known not only deep pain but also intense pleasure. We cry hardest for those losses that the energetic heart treasures most in our life, and those who cry the most have often lived the most intensely.
I’ve been there myself, collecting the pieces thrown on the floor after the relationship that was supposed to last a lifetime had ended only after eight short years together. The pain I felt was excruciating and not in a metaphorical sense. To this day I remember the moment when a sudden wave of grief hit me while I was sitting at my desk at work: it felt like someone or something had put a heavy weight in the middle of my chest and kept pushing it down. I was grasping for air, shocked by the severity of this sensation. There was nothing subtle about it: my heart was being torn apart.
Lessons of the Broken Heart
Paradoxically, having my heart broken had taught me a few valuable lessons. It showed be the meaning of love.
First, that when someone you love leaves, either the physical realm or your immediate environment, you will feel the actual pain. In a sense it is a confirmation – albeit sometimes a bitter one – that you had the real thing. Second, when you feel it, just accept the emotion and breathe; your heart is hurting but it’s still beating. There’s something to be grateful for.
Jamie Greenwood captured eloquently this feeling of gratitude for having her heart broken in the post “A Broken Heart Is an Open Heart.” In her very personal post she describes the process of facing the emotions and feelings triggered by the end of her relationship.
When he left, the wall around my heart came tumbling down. The ice melted off the inner chambers of my soul. The doors to my ability to love swung open, inviting me to feel into those tender places so long ignored. (…)
Know this: A broken heart is an open heart.
It is in the breaking, when our hearts are peeled back on themselves, that our truths have passage to come in and out.
Be Grateful for Love
“Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened;” who hasn’t heard this quote by Dr. Seuss? It looks like the children’s books weren’t written for children after all and Dr. Seuss was onto something.
According to the latest research, the ability to feel gratitude – an emotion expressing appreciation for what one has – is essential for one’s well-being and happiness. Therefore, when a relationship ends or a loved one dies, instead of feeling sorry for the lack of the attention or physical proximity it’s healthier to focus on the good things and “smile because it happened.”
How to do that? By trying to transform the emotions into something else, like friendship. Or devoting our time to preserving the memory of the departed, for example by continuing their life work, legacy if you will, if it aligns with ours. By doing so, we get to experience the real meaning of love.
What Is Love?
How does it all relate to the poem by Rumi? I think it proves that love is. Simply as that. You don’t need to look for it or chaise it. By being alive, we have a choice of feeling love, with all the risks the act of opening up our heart carries. Or, because it is a choice – we can put the walls up and pretend this poem is just an obsolete passage written by the guy who knew nothing.
And since we’re on the topic of choice: quite recently, I almost made a decision of cutting all contact with someone I care deeply about. I wanted to put an end to the emotional turmoil I found myself in. Thinking, it would be better for me, definitely easier if we ceased the contact completely.
When the familiar feeling of the heaviness in my chest appeared, I realized I was dealing with “the real thing.” Knowing that thinking and feeling don’t necessary go hand in hand, in this case I have decided to trust the lessons learned from my previous life experiences. The lesson being: you don’t throw the real thing away, you re-purpose it.
Apparently, the definition of “friendship” could be surprisingly expendable. Was that what Dido has had in mind when she wrote her famous “White Flag”? Maybe she too had been inspired by Rumi’s words.
I will go down with this ship
And I won’t put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I’m in love and always will be
© Ania Bogacka