Some time ago I read a post on the “Holistic Fibro Fighter” blog [which seems to have gone silent] which the author, Jane Taylor, titled “A pilgrimage of self-care”. The title gave me a zingy “wow- yes!” moment, because the word ‘pilgrimage’ instantly resonated with my healing journey. It explains the adventure that is healing, and encapsulates a sense of faith and hope mixed with the expectation that there will be trials and tribulations along the way… the path will be rewarding, but not necessarily easy.
It also sparked a huge rush of memories from a period of time around my 30th birthday when I set myself the goal to read 6 influential narratives of loooong journeys (not necessarily religious pilgrimages, but often spiritual quests nonetheless):
- Odyssey – Homer (c. 8/7th century BC)
- The Conference of the Birds – Farid ud-Din Attar (12th century)
- Inferno – Dante (1321)
- Canterbury Tales – Geoffrey Chaucer (c. 1387-1400)
- The Pilgrims Progress – John Bunyan (1678)
- The Narrow Road to the Deep North – Bashō as Oku (1694)
Many months ago, I wrote about “The Narrow Road” (here), but it is Attar’s poem “The Conference of the Birds” (occasionally titled “Bird Parliament”) which I want to write about today.
The translation I read 20+ years ago was by Edward FitzGerald (published in 1889, shortly after his death). I’m not sure how close a translation it was, but (I suspect) what was lost in accuracy was gained in readability. It was so memorable, it has stayed with me ever since.
The Sufi poem’s thousands of rhyming couplets follows a group of 30 birds who set out in search of their king. They travel a grueling journey that crosses through seven valleys and is long and torturous. They struggle, starve, and many die, all in a quest to find their ideal sovereign, the “Simorgh”, a symbol of ultimate truth and divine power.
To help refresh my memory, and explain it more clearly to you, here’s what I found on AllegoryExplained.com: “The poem’s unique structure, with various birds representing different human qualities and aspirations, allows Attar to explore the complexities of the soul’s journey. The title is taken directly from the Qur’an, 27:16, where Sulayman and Dawud are said to have been taught the language, or speech, of the birds.”
As the website notes, the poem “is a metaphor for the soul’s journey to find God.” The word “Simorgh” in Persian means thirty (si) birds (morgh). When they finally arrive at their destination, the birds who have survived “discover that the Simorgh is not a separate entity, but rather a reflection of themselves. […underscoring] the central message of the poem, which is that the spiritual journey is not about finding something outside of oneself, but rather about discovering the divine within.”
Edward FitzGerald’s translation ends with the birds arriving in front of a giant mirror as they hear a voice speaking:
“The Sun of my Perfection is a Glass
Wherein from Seeing into Being pass
All who, reflecting as reflected see
Themselves in Me, and Me in Them: not Me,
But all of Me that a contracted Eye
Is comprehensive of Infinity:
[…]
All you have been, and seen, and done, and thought,
Not You but I, have seen and been and wrought:
I was the Sin that from Myself rebell’d:
I the Remorse that tow’rd Myself compell’d:
I was the Tajidar who led the Track:
I was the little Briar that pull’d you back:
Sin and Contrition—Retribution owed,
And cancell’d—Pilgrim, Pilgrimage, and Road,
Was but Myself toward Myself: and Your
Arrival but Myself at my own Door:
[…]
Come you lost Atoms to your Centre draw,
And be the Eternal Mirror that you saw:
Rays that have wander’d into Darkness wide
Return, and back into your Sun subside.’—”
I can’t express strongly enough what a warm, fuzzy, oh-la-la sensation I got when I first read those lines. They still make me buzz with a deep-seated wonder for the universe! “Come you lost atoms” – filled me with such deep resonating joy, that I couldn’t help but feel myself connected to the cosmos, no matter how lonely I was.
What if we are all just lost atoms, wandering into the darkness, wondering where to go, all moving slowly yet determinedly back towards ourselves… a pilgrimage in full circle, a reflection of true worth…
I love the idea that for all the pain I’ve struggled through, I will eventually look in the mirror and see that those little briars that held me back were par for the course: illness, wellness, healing, health, all part of the same universal journey that is life… and that as the darkness subsides I will return to my inner-sunshine.
Ahhh.
[That’s a contented sigh.]
Take care taking care out there, wherever you find yourself on your journey back to your sense of self.
Know that I’m wishing you all the best, now, and always, in darkness and in light.
Linda x
The Mindful Migraine 
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