The other day, I came across this wonderful quote from Persian mystic and poet, Rumi:
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.
Strictly by the trickle down nature of thought, this line of Rumi’s lead me to think about some other things, specifically about Purusha, “the cosmic man” in Hindu mythology. Within the notion of Purusha lie complex ideas and philosophies about material and spiritual being. There is a somewhat simpler idea in this myth, however, in that the entire universe was created by fragmenting one, cosmic man.
I love this idea of Rumi’s that each of our lovers are already apart of us, within us before we even meet. And this is what led my thoughts towards the Hindu idea of Purusha, that the universe, that each of us, is composed of fragments. Much of what we do in life is try to collect and piece together these fragments, in an attempt to feel whole again.
Just how close to the bone and the skin
The eyes and the lips you can get
And still feel so alone
And still feel related
You know that feeling? When you lose a lover or someone you love? And it feels like you’ve lost a piece of yourself? Perhaps that is because you have, and in finding that lover some fragment of yourself found its way home. And if you are really loving, you have to give the deepest parts of yourself in return.
If the universe is constructed by fragments, then each of us is fragmented too (as above, so below). In seeking art and love, we seek to reconcile – or least accumulate – pieces of these fragments so that we can feel whole again.
Some loves are more meaningful than others, simply because they show us bigger pieces of ourselves, more of what we are missing.