May 03 2024
Attar – Looking for your own face
Looking for your own face
by Farid ud-Din Attar
English version by Coleman Barks
Your face is neither infinite nor ephemeral.
You can never see your own face,
only a reflection, not the face itself.
So you sigh in front of mirrors
and cloud the surface.
It’s better to keep your breath cold.
Hold it, like a diver does in the ocean.
One slight movement, the mirror-image goes.
Don’t be dead or asleep or awake.
Don’t be anything.
What you most want,
what you travel around wishing to find,
lose yourself as lovers lose themselves,
and you’ll be that.
— from The Hand of Poetry: Five Mystic Poets of Persia, with Lectures by Inayat Khan, Translated by Coleman Barks
/ Image by Noah Buscher /
I like this idea of searching for one’s own face — something so central to our identity but which we can never see directly.
You can never see your own face,
only a reflection, not the face itself.
How then can we see our own face?
We seek its reflection constantly, everywhere. All the world becomes a mirror showing ourselves back to us.
But our vision is unclear, distorted, veiled…
So you sigh in front of mirrors
and cloud the surface.
The ego within us covers our self-perception with a thin film, so we think we are seeing ourselves, but we see only a vague shadow of our true nature behind the ego’s haze.
In some traditions, this is represented by the compulsion of the breath, its continuous inflow and outflow perpetually disrupting true, still perception. Some yogic and Sufi techniques seek to profoundly quiet the breath and the rhythms of the body so that the vision of Reality may come through undistorted:
It’s better to keep your breath cold.
Hold it, like a diver does in the ocean.
One slight movement, the mirror-image goes.
Most people try to shape the story they tell about themselves. Seekers try to shape themselves. But if we are wise, we shape neither story nor self; we lose ourselves, instead. We let the disrupting ego-self melt away in the fires of our fierce love for the Beloved.
What you most want,
what you travel around wishing to find,
lose yourself as lovers lose themselves,
and you’ll be that.
In the search for our true face, a reflection will never satisfy. No journey. We won’t ever properly see our faces by looking outside of ourselves. To know our true face, we inhabit ourselves, instead.
Have a beautiful day — and always remain true to your heart’s instinct to open, even in tumultuous times.
Recommended Books: Farid ud-Din Attar
|
Farid ud-Din Attar
Iran/Persia (1120? – 1220?) Timeline |
Farid ud-Din Attar was born in Nishapur, in what is today north-east Iran. There is disagreement over the exact dates of his birth and death but several sources confirm that he lived about 100 years. He is traditionally said to have been killed by Mongol invaders. His tomb can be seen today in Nishapur.
As a younger man, Attar went on pilgrimage to Mecca and traveled extensively, seeking wisdom in Egypt, Damascus, India, and other areas, before finally returning to his home city of Nishapur.
The name Attar means herbalist or healer, which was his profession. (The profession can also carry implications of alchemy.) It is said that he saw as many as 500 patients a day in his shop, prescribing herbal remedies which he prepared himself, and he wrote his poetry while attending to his patients.
About thirty works by Attar survive, but his masterpiece is the Mantic at-Tayr (The Conference of the Birds). In this collection, he describes a group of birds (individual human souls) under the leadership of a hoopoe (spiritual master) who determine to search for their king, the legendary Simurgh bird (God). The birds must confront their own individual limitations and fears while journeying through seven valleys before they ultimately find the Simurgh and complete their quest. The 30 birds who ultimately complete the quest discover that they themselves are already one with the Simurgh they sought, playing on a pun in Persian (si and murgh can translate as 30 birds) while giving us an esoteric teaching on the presence of the Divine within us collectively.
Attar’s poetry inspired Rumi and many other Sufi poets. It is said that Rumi actually met Attar when Attar was an old man and Rumi was a boy, though some scholars dispute this possibility.
Farid ud-Din Attar was apparently tried at one point for heresy and exiled from Nishapur, but he eventually returned to his home city and that is where he died.
A traditional story is told about Attar’s death. He was taken prisoner by a Mongol during the invasion of Nishapur. Someone soon came and tried to ransom Attar with a thousand pieces of silver. Attar advised the Mongol not to sell him for that price. The Mongol, thinking to gain an even greater sum of money, refused the silver. Later, another person came, this time offering only a sack of straw to free Attar. Attar then told the Mongol to sell him for that was all he was worth. Outraged at being made to look like a fool, the Mongol cut off Attar’s head.
Whether or not this is literally true isn’t the point. This story is used to teach the mystical insight that the personal self isn’t of much real worth. What is valuable is the Beloved’s presence within us — and that presence isn’t threatened by the death of the body.
A Walk In The Morning
It seems as though I’m living for someone else. Like when you’re walking, it is someone else, someone gone, who is seeing the world, hearing the birds, feeling the wind and the sun!
And you wonder, “how did _________ see this, hear this, feel this?” “It’s not fair they can no longer see how beautiful the world is, how much wonder there is.” Then you think:
“I don’t know who I am.” “Who was _____? Who was anyone?” “What did they think?” “Did they think about me?” ” Did they think like me?”
And you think about who was kind to you, and who have you been kind to, mean to, been petty towards. How long do I have left? Why am I here, what am I doing? I am wasting time.
Then you think:
Wait a minute _____ enjoyed being alive, hearing the birds, feeling the sun, seeing the clouds & trees blow in the wind. I wish I could tell them how much I miss them & how much I enjoy the world. Like they did.
Brian.
Thank you, Ivan, for Poetry Chaikhana and all the joy it brings me!
Oh Ivan, thank you for this wise poem and your commentary and the thought for the
day. This is just the beautiful thoughts I needed and my daughter needs right at this
time – how can that be? But blessings for Poetry Chaikhana, Sending Love, Carol