The flute of the Infinite is played without ceasing,
and its sound is love.
~Kabir
There are some days when my hands tingle with the energy to create, as if they long to be a part of the energetic expression of love and beauty and joy in the world. It’s fair to say that creating with my hands keeps me grounded, contented in my earthly life, and participating in the dance of the universe. I was happy to read this passage about the mystical poet Kabir, in Evelyn Underhill’s introduction to Songs Of Kabir ,
“Kabir was a weaver, a simple and unlettered man who earned his living at the loom. Like Paul the tent maker, Boehme the cobbler, Bunyan the tinker, Tersteegen the ribbon-maker, he knew how to combine vision and industry; the work of his hands helped rather than hindered the impassioned meditation of his heart.”
I hesitate to compare my life with Kabir, but only to say that I do take inspiration from this passage- that our work in the world, the work of our hands, might help rather than hinder the meditations of the heart. Our work might be itself a form of meditation, and our life might be our practice. It’s a game of joy; a duet, a symphony; an energetic dance; a waltz of sorts, splendid and good.
The creator brought into being the Game of Joy:
and from the word Om the Creation sprang.
The earth is His joy; His joy is the sky;
His joy is the flashing of the sun and moon;
His joy is the beginning, the middle, and the end;
His joy is eyes, darkness, and light;
Oceans and waves are his joy…
~Kabir
What a day of gladness is that day in which my Beloved,
who is my treasure, comes to my house!
~Kabir
