soul medicine from Hafiz

Now is the Time

Now is the time to know
That all that you do is sacred.

Now, why not consider
A lasting truce with yourself and God.

Now is the time to understand
That all your ideas of right and wrong
Were just a child's training wheels
To be laid aside
When you finally live
With veracity
And love.

Hafiz is a divine envoy
Whom the Beloved
Has written a holy message upon.

My dear, please tell me,
Why do you still
Throw sticks at your heart
And God?

What is it in that sweet voice inside
That incites you to fear?

Now is the time for the world to know
That every thought and action is sacred.

This is the time for you to compute the impossibility
That there is anything
But Grace.

Now is the season to know
That everything you do
Is sacred.

from The Gift - Poems by Hafiz the Great Sufi Master
translations by Daniel Ladinsky

This poem is medicinal for me. Since being rear-ended in February, I have been making many more "mistakes" than ever before in my life, and sometimes I feel so frustrated and embarrassed - strong reactions that are sort of foreign to me.

Back when I was in school I was always a straight A student, and I grew accustomed to trying hard, doing well, and being commended for it. Now, these temporary cognitive issues have me making errors I don't even notice.

I occasionally start typing the next word in the middle of the word I'm on, use the wrong words completely (that instead of the) or the wrong form of the word (plural when I meant singular.)

What's worse, for me, is that I don't catch my errors. The little flag that used to signal an error upon proofreading seems to have changed to the same color as the background, and I often don't see it at all.

Since the accident did not impact my desire to understand every little thing, I've been observing myself. I've identified three major kinds of mistakes so far:

- minor glitches that I don't even notice until someone else points them out to me (like missing a digit while writing a check and ending up paying interest on a bill I thought was fully paid up)

- things I try to do well and fall short on (like trying to make muffins and burning them because I forget to set the timer)

- actions that spring from deliberately good intentions but do not turn out as planned (like writing an email to commend someone that ends up being circulated and results in others feeling like their hard work has gone unrecognized)

Each seems to trigger its own flavor of ego pain in me. The minor glitches are just embarrassing, and painful in a way that is clearly out of proportion to the offense. I think that's because my long-held identity as a smart, competent, and reliable person is being chipped away one flake at a time, and because this kind of mistake happened only very rarely before the accident. But I get over those fairly quickly. It helps that most often I can take them off the books by fixing them.

Trying and falling short is a bit more embarrassing, and my mind often wants to react with some kind of contraction - like don't stick your neck out again! Only do what you can do perfectly. These, too, were somewhat rare before the accident, since I am typically pretty deliberate in my actions. But it's not too terrible to deal with, because I value expansion, and I know it requires pushing my limits, and I accept that as risky work but worth it.

The third kind --good intentions that don't turn out as planned or appear to cause harm -- well, that one really sucks. I almost always cry when the unintended consequences of my actions are brought to my attention, and my heart sinks right into my stomach. Usually these are the kind of mistake that I cannot fix, and cannot take back. They've gone out into the world and have a life of their own.

This kind of mistake had happened before the accident a handful of times in my life, and I vividly remember each of them.

Another one happened yesterday, which is why I went in search of that poem. It helps for me to think that what appears to be a terrible mistake might actually be just one thread of a larger tapestry. Takes the pressure off, and opens my little ego to the reality that there's more than me here, and that I don't know it all.

Funny how needing to know it all can lead to such feelings of false competence and satisfaction, which then can be so easily yanked out like a carpet beneath my feet. Painful as it is, I am grateful for the opportunity to find something more solid than knowledge, competence or good outcomes to stand upon.