letting go

If you poked thorns into these streaming eyes,

Or shot cruel arrows at this hair-thin heart,

Or beat me like a drum, and beat again,

I wouldn't let you go, not even then.

#1916: From Rumi's Kolliyaat-e Shams-e Tabrizi

Search word: thorn

This morning, I remain in pain and seeking thorns again. Rumi's verse today raises an interesting question, perhaps the single most important question. What matters so much that no amount of pain would cause you to abandon it? What single dream or vision or value can I not let go of? Is it an abstract entity like Life or Love or Truth or God? Is it a person or a collectivity, like my own self, my family, my community, women or humanity? Does it need to have a name, to be named?

Perhaps not.