made deep into the underworld to that—left to itself—longing makes it meet the queen of the dead, , possible for us to go all the way to where and be taught by her the secrets of we really need to go. reality. The beginning of his poem There is no reasoning with passion and starts like this: longing, although we like to deceive our- The mares that carry me as far as selves by believing there is. All we ever longing can reach do is reason with ourselves about the rode on, once they had come and form our longing take. We reason fetched me onto the legendary road AS FAR AS LONGING CAN REACH of the divinity that carries the man who Peter and Maria Kingsley knows through the vast and dark unknown...1

And the clue to the whole poem lies already in the first line. The one crucial factor in this strange affair that for influences everything—that deter- WHAT IS THIS LONGING THAT DRIVES MEN AND WOMEN CRAZY, mines just how far on deprives them of sleep, of rest and peace—this longing this journey toward that keeps surfacing throughout history in the literature reality he can actually of people as far apart as , Anatolia, Iran, and go—is longing. The remote places hardly any of us even know? Echoes reach Greek word he uses is our ears of those who have been laughed at, persecuted, thumos, and thumos even killed because they dared to live their longing in pub- means the energy of life lic; but we often choose to make ourselves deaf. It can be itself. It’s the raw pres- so much easier, so much more convenient, to pretend they ence in us that senses and never existed; that their longing can never be ours; that feels, the massed power their timeless teachings are too old and out of fashion of our emotional being. for us now. Above all it’s the energy And yet, like a heartache that stubbornly persists in spite of passion, appetite, of all our best efforts to ignore it, this longing follows us yearning, longing. too. It drives us from one place to another, from one desire Since the time of to a different one and then another one, as we go on Parmenides we have searching to fulfill ourselves and finally silence the inner learned so well to hedge voice that never seems satisfied with anything. But whatever our thumos in, to domi- ANGELA GILL we do, and however hard each of us tries, we still sense that nate our longing, punish and control it. “FLOATING WEDDING,” OIL ON CANVAS, 2005 something is missing. But for Parmenides himself the longing Already two and a half thousand years ago a Greek man is what comes first, right at the begin- from southern Italy called Parmenides spoke about this ning. And there is a profound signifi- longing in a poem he left behind about the journey he cance in this, because what he is saying is

56 | PARABOLA SUMMER 2006 | 57 that if we find a better job we will be we want—rather than on the energy of from it if we chose. But how can we run thing is that the negativity isn’t in the content, but we never are. We reason wanting itself. away from our own inner nature, our depression but in running from the that if we go somewhere special we will If we can bear to face our longing own divine heritage? We were born to depression. And what we imagine we be happy; but when we get there we start instead of finding endless ways to keep know this mystery which, as Gnostics are afraid of isn’t what we are really wanting to go somewhere else. We rea- satisfying it and trying to escape it, it used to say, “has no name but all names afraid of at all. son that if we were to sleep with the begins to show us a glimpse of what lies refer to it” or which Sufis describe as the It can be so terrifying to face our long- lover of our dreams we would be ful- behind the scenes of this world we think nameless mystery that “appears by what- ing because it makes no allowances for filled. And yet even if we were to manage we live in. It opens up a devastating per- ever name you choose to call it.” And what we think, or what we care for. Like spective where everything is turned on just like Parmenides, who made the its head: where fulfillment becomes a heroic journey into the depths of dark- limitation, accomplishment turns into a ness to find what he called “the unshaken ALL ALONG WE THOUGHT IT WAS OUR trap. And it does this with an intensity heart of persuasive Truth,” we too can that scrambles our thoughts and forces start out on the journey back to reality— LONGING: ASSUMED THAT WE COULD us straight into the present. guided by the call of our longing. DO WHATEVER WE WANTED WITH IT, Longing is the movement and the call- This journey, “as far as longing can ing of our deepest nature. It’s the cry of reach,” is a journey to end all journeys: EVEN RUN AWAY FROM IT IF WE CHOSE. the wolf, the power of the lion, the flut- way beyond any ordinary human experi- BUT HOW CAN WE RUN AWAY FROM OUR tering of all the birds inside us. And if we ence. It demands tremendous courage. can find the courage to face it, it will take It changes every cell in our body. OWN INNER NATURE, OUR OWN DIVINE us back to where we belong. But just like Mythologically, it’s the journey of the HERITAGE? animals, this longing is dangerous as well hero. And yet to understand what’s as beautiful. Longing is the powerhouse involved we have to forget all our con- of our being, and on this path of return cepts of what it means to be a hero. We a sharp sword it cuts through all our it breaks everything except what is usually think of a hero as a warrior, a cares and ambitions and leaves us naked. unbreakable. It shatters all the man-made fighter. And yet what will get us where It wants the whole of us, and we know structures that we try to build up around we want to go isn’t willpower; it isn’t that in the end this longing is a fire it and place in its way. It washes away the struggle or effort. It isn’t even a which will consume every part of us. But future and past and leaves us with noth- of having to do anything ourselves. It’s what in all honesty is the alternative? ing but eternity. For longing is the cre- just a question of knowing how to turn How long will we go on looking for ANGELA GILL ator of time, and time can never contain it. and face our own longing without inter- truth everywhere outside ourselves? “OUVIRANDA,” OIL ON CANVAS, 2005 Time is the sequence of respectable fering with it or doing anything at all. How many books do we have to read, faces and forms that we give to our long- And that goes against the grain of every- how many people do we have to ask? that, it would still not be enough. ing, from moment to moment and day thing we’re used to, because we have Always we want to learn from outside, What we sometimes refer to, so mis- to day. But as soon as we turn away from been taught in so many ways to escape from absorbing other people’s knowl- leadingly, as “human nature” is simply all these distractions toward the energy from ourselves—find a thousand good edge. It’s safer that way. The trouble is the state of being pulled by the nose in a of our longing itself, something extraor- reasons for avoiding our longing. that it’s always other people’s knowl- hundred different directions and ending dinary happens. We discover that what Sometimes it appears as depression, edge. We already have everything we up going nowhere very fast. we really want is what has been wanting calling us away from everything we think need to know, deep in the darkness But although there is no reasoning us since before the beginning of time. we want, pulling us into the darkness of inside ourselves. And our longing, if we with our passion, it has a tremendous Longing longs for us. It wants us to ourselves. The voice is so familiar that we dare to follow it all the way, is what turns intelligence of its own. The only trouble wake up, to become conscious. It is run from it in every way we can; the us inside out until we find the sun and is that we keep interfering; keep breaking divine intelligence longing to become more powerful the call the further we the moon and stars inside. it up into tiny pieces, scattering it every- known. All along we thought it was our run. It has the power to make us mad, 1 For more of Parmenides’s poetry, and the back- where. Our minds always trick us into longing: assumed that we could do what- and yet it’s so innocent: the voice of our- ground to his teachings, see Peter Kingsley’s focusing on the little things we think ever we wanted with it, even run away selves calling to ourselves. The strange books REALITY and IN THE DARK PLACES OF WISDOM.

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