the best joy
No punishment, no threat,
Could make me tell this secret.
Something carries joy inside me
But I can't quite point to it.
#1141: From Rumi's Kolliyaat-e Shams-e Tabrizi
I'm in a mood to prepare and issue punishment and threat, over the incident on Saturday night when one household played their Lebanese party music loud enough to disturb an entire small neighbourhood. They were expressing their joy that one of their members had reached the esteemed age of 25. If this catches on and we can all celebrate every birthday in this manner, then every evening will be hell, not just every Saturday. I must work to put a stop to this.
Something in me has radically changed through this process of befriending Rumi. I'm becoming more and more aware of carrying this joy he speaks of. Besides the irony that I will be working on curbing the selfish expression of fake joy, I feel full of joy myself. I'm looking forward to rallying the neighbours to an effort to protect their rights to peace. My warrior instinct is aroused and I'm at the ready for a good fight.
The best joy is the secret joy, the quiet joy, the one we can never adequately express. The best joy is the one we want to speak and write about forever and ever.
posted by Arizona @ 6:00 am
3 comments
3 Comments:
I don't mind occasional noise. What I mind is the smell of garlic and cigarette smoke that sometimes wafts into my townhouse from the one next door.
That's true too and people should be able to have a bit of fun. However, this was a professional sound system complete with hired DJ set up outdoors in the backyard of a house in a medium-density neighbourhood. Dozens of us were severely disturbed. I put industrial ear muffs over my ears and I could still hear the monotonous pounding rhythm from inside my own "home". When we went out into the street to ask that they turn the volume down, they responded by turning it up. It was the most spectacular act of neighbourly selfishness that I've ever witnessed.
These were Lebanese "Christians" swilling down the wine in great abandon. I suddenly understood why Muslims ban alcohol, music and dancing. It might be because they, like me, have witnessed the arsehole of these usually glorious pursuits. We have lots of Lebanese Muslims in this neighbourhood as well. I hate to think what an impious affront this whole thing was to them and, for once, I can truly sympathize with a Muslim.
Ugh, the pounding monotonous bass is the worst!
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