With that Moon Language
by Hafiz
Admit something:
Everyone you see, say to them, "Love me."
Of course you do not do this out loud;
otherwise someone would call the cops.
Still, though, think about this,
this great pull in us to connect.
Why not become the one who lives with a full moon in each eye that is always saying,
with that sweet moon language,
what every other eye in this world is dying to hear?
(translated by Daniel Ladinsky)
"call the cops
Hafiz, we've heard this all before, though usually in reference to someone else;
and certainly in more subtle, more psychologically nuanced language.
Why do you have to be so direct? So sharp? So unequivocal?
Everyone you see, you say to them, "Love me."
You mean me?
You mean that I walk around all day with a big sign on my chest saying love me? I don't see myself that way.
Not me.
Though I do understand that there are many people in that sad situation; and I would even go so far as to admit that we may all, from time to time, suffer a little from the condition.
But surely there are degrees of the ailment, from high fever to a barely discernible tone of voice or look in the eyes?
This is why Hafiz had to be sharp. His words need to cut like a knife through our defenses to get to the core of the truth. No one wants to hear this. It's embarrassing. It's humbling. But the cleaner the wound, the quicker it heals. And the truth is, however self-determining we may take ourselves to be, however mature and at home with ourselves we may feel, it is still likely that, in the wings of our awareness, there is some little person in us who never quite grew up, who is always waiting for the slightest opportunity to squeeze some acknowledgement from his parents whatever shape or form they may assume in his adult life.
So we want to be loved. Of course we do. And one of the most common ways we have of feeling that feeling is to gain the approval of others. No doubt this contributes to our need to build the tallest skyscraper, run the fastest mile, deliver the best speech, write the best book. There are other, far more significant contributing factors to human achievement of course - the urgency of a talent or deeply felt conviction to express itself for example; or the upwelling of a fountain of creativity from the deep heart's core, to borrow a phrase from Yeats. To say otherwise would be sheer reductionism, a diminishment of the human spirit. And yet, this need for approval, which we take to be love, can so easily seep into everything we say and do.
We want to prove ourselves; yes, for our own satisfaction, but also to our father, or maybe our mother, and to our peers. We want to be recognized, esteemed and valued, a perfectly natural and valid desire. Yet so easily, we can look for the recognition in all the wrong places. Sometimes for years, sometimes for a lifetime, we may tailor our behavior to fit the image of what we think others will want and like. We conform socially, we do all the right things, maybe we even go to the school or take up the course of study our father always wanted us to, the profession that he, perhaps, took up himself. Or we rebel, and do the opposite, which amounts to the same thing: We are still at the effect of our need to be loved.
Maybe we manage to sort out the issue by our thirties or maybe our forties. Maybe we manage to begin creating a life that is more genuinely our own, rather than one made according to the image of others, and of the collective norm. Even so, we still need to be liked, respected.
I know a woman who is a successful model. She has felt ambivalent about her job for years. But she finds it very difficult - impossible, thus far - to leave. It's not just the money or the travel - those attractions palled a while ago. I suspect she gets something else that would be difficult to give up. She gets admiration; she gets the constant affirmation that she is not only beautiful, but that she does her work well. She feels valued, and that is a healthy and empowering feeling.
The only trouble is, we all know in our hearts that the approval of others for our achievements, our beauty, even the nobility of our character, is not enough, however gratifying it may be. It is not yet the love we are really looking for, which is why we can feel hollow even in the midst of our greatest successes."
--from Roger Housden's 10 Poems that Can Change Your Life
