Of Rumi's Field

Friend from high school has a cute habit. Whenever she knows I’m in my self-loathing mode (not hard to point out, really. When you see me sleeping in my bed in odd hours, when you’re talking to me but I have the eyes of the dead fishes you see in wet markets), she will text me little nuggets of wisdom.

Of all, I like this one best:

'Beyond the wrongdoings and rightdoings, there is a field. I'll meet you there.'

I imagine the field that Rumi talked about is happiness. Happiness that can be actualized only thru self-love. This is the place where all soldiers from opposing teams put aside their guns and realized that there’s really no point in fighting, if we could only love ourselves or just be in the moment. Just feel the breeze, the sun, the grass.

I wanted to be in that field ever since I discovered this quote. Some nights when my mind was on overdrive and I was consumed by the demons of self-loathing, I tried desperately to be in this field. I imagined the grass, the windmill (don’t ask), the trees and the wild flowers. I was at peace. I found my zen! I carried with me happy memories. How I usually fixed his coffee (1 teaspoon of Nescafe, 2 teaspoon of creamer, and 2 teaspoon of sugar. He liked his java sweet), how I salaam his hands before we leave each other.

One time he requested I cooked Nasi Lemak for dinner and I cooked too much, we even had that for breakfast the next morning.

I can only hold that peaceful feeling for ten seconds. And then I see the sorrowful ghouls and goblins of the past coming at me. Some holding machetes, some carrying torches.  I put up a fight, but then I could feel my heart got heavier and heavier and I started crying.

And then I start to miss him terribly.