Dear Friends,
Good morning. It is almost dawn. Still, quiet. With my hands wrapped around a favorite mug of hot Assam brew, I settle into a worn, comfortable chair and watch the steam from the tea curl through the air. Mist rises as dawn’s light softly filters through the dense pine forest outside my window. Stories and memories of a lifetime unfold before me, like an old black-and-white film flickering on a screen. Many thresholds have been crossed; yet, others remain. Some beckon.
Ah, but today is the anniversary of my arrival on Earth. What is it I most want to share with you? Not age or memories. I believe it is something far more important: this letter is about the absence that echoes louder than years—
The absence of love,
The absence of gentleness,
The absence of the soft, fierce compassion we were all meant to swim in. Like breath. Like light.
Hafez whispers through the pages again, as he often does when I sit in stillness. He reminds me that “the heart is a thousand-stringed instrument that can only be tuned by love.”
I have come to know that the music of the spheres is the song, the melody that our starving world needs.
I have come to know that love is the pure, singular, clear note that forms the foundation of the cosmos.
I have come to hope that the ‘sword dropped from too many hands and mouths, even at the height of their arc of anger, is because they do not realize there is just one flesh they wound, and it is the Beloved’s.’
And so, I offer this vision, the Life Bird the mystics write about, soaring beyond Earth’s gravity. She is the womb and the witness. She weeps for us, not with blame, but with longing. The hush between stars is not empty. Her tears fall toward us still, hoping we will remember what we’ve forgotten.
This day, my 82nd birthday, is not about counting time, but about tending love. Yes, this is what I wanted to share with you today.
In quiet,
In reverence,
Notes ~
Hafez (Sufi Mystic Poet)