I just learned about a poet named Rumi who lived in Persia about 800 years ago, give or take a century. Supposedly he is the most-read, best-selling poet in America today, which I find hard to believe since you never hear a word about him. Instead it's Trump, Trump, Trump all the time, and occasionally Maya Angelou. Anyway, I listened to one of Rumi's poems on a meditation podcast and decided to order "The Essential Rumi," and I'm glad I did. Reading his words late last night rescued me from a Darkening Mood that threatened to morph into a Pit of Despair where I might have lain until God knows when, seeing as my husband is out of town and I have no friends in the immediate area checking in on me.
Even if I had any, that's simply not the Maine way -- I could lay in that Despair Pit for a week without anyone noticing. I've accepted that fact after almost ten years here, until today when an article in the Wall Street Journal on the dangers of loneliness among aging baby boomers gave me a start. The claim was made that loneliness "is as closely linked to early mortality as smoking up to 15 cigarettes a day or consuming more than six alcoholic drinks a day. It is even worse for longevity than obesity or inactivity."
So starting today I vow to reach out more. For example, yesterday I never interacted with anyone except with my husband on the phone. On the other hand, I spent hours painting in my studio, which is more rewarding to me than chit-chatting at a cafe with a friend. (Maybe the loneliness thing doesn't apply to artists.)As for Rumi, he suggested fasting as a way to increase creativity and self-realization: "There's hidden sweetness in the stomach's emptiness. If the brain and belly are burning clean with fasting, every moment a new song comes out of the fire." So there's another reason to skip lunch with a friend. Or even lunch alone.
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