1. The Prophet By Kahlil Gibran, Introduction

Introduction to "The Prophet", Khalil Gibran's timeless masterpiece. This is the first of 28 perspectives offered through the eyes of the Prophet. See the sacredness in the mundane and the everyday. Join for a month of gratitude.

Transcript

Greetings,

Blessings,

And welcome.

Today I'll be reading a segment from the prophet by Khalil Gibran.

Originally published in 1923,

We're on the eve of the 100th anniversary of this masterpiece.

If you have a copy,

You might read along,

Or you're welcome just to find a comfortable seat.

Either way,

Just choose to be present and listen deeply to the wisdom of these timeless words.

For today's session,

I'll just offer the first chapter.

As we approach this annual holiday season stretching from Yom Kippur through the Lunar New Year,

I hope we might begin together with an intention of gratitude.

This is the trees in this region joined together and begin to let go of their leaves.

Their magnificent beauty on display in the wide range of colors and shapes and sizes.

A perfect tribute to honor their wisdom,

The natural beauty of our Earth's diversity.

So if you found your comfortable seat,

Join me for a few moments as we begin.

Just close your eyes.

Notice your breath.

You might place a hand in your heart.

Just notice the rise and fall.

Feeling the ebb with each exhale,

Letting go.

Giving way to the flowing inhale that fills all the space in your lungs.

Continue just a few deep belly breaths in.

Completely letting go,

Relaxing the tension with each long breath out.

As you breathe in this moment,

Feel how your body moves around your breath.

Find that space in your heart.

In that space,

Set a mindful intention of gratitude and love,

Recognizing the sacredness of life together.

May we hear the echoes of wisdom.

May this wisdom resonate across the touchstone of our own personal truth.

And seal our intention together.

Let's take a deep breath in and a long,

Relaxing breath out.

Amustafa,

The chosen,

The beloved.

It was a dawn unto his own day and waited 12 years in the city of Orphales for a ship that was to return and bear him back to the isle of his birth.

And in the 12th year,

In the seventh day of Elul,

The month of reaping,

He climbed the hill without the city walls and looked seaward.

And he beheld his ship coming with the mist.

Then the gates of his heart were flung open and his joy flew far over the sea.

And he closed his eyes and prayed in the silences of his soul.

And as he descended the hill,

A sadness came upon him.

And he thought in his heart,

How shall I go in peace and without sorrow?

Nay,

Not without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.

Long were the days of pain spent within its walls and long were the nights of aloneness.

And who can depart from his pain and his aloneness without regret?

Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets.

And too many of the children of my longing that walk among these hills.

And I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache.

It is not a garment I cast off this day,

But a skin that I tear with my own hands.

Nor is it a thought I leave behind me,

But a heart made sweet with hunger and with thirst.

And I cannot tarry longer.

The sea that calls all things unto her calls me and I must embark.

For to stay,

Let the hours burn in the night,

Is to freeze and crystallize and be bound in a mold.

Fain would I take with me all that is here,

But how shall I?

A voice cannot carry the tongue,

The lips that gave it wings.

Alone must it seek the ether.

And alone and without his nest shall the eagle fly across the sun.

And so now when he reached the foot of the hill,

He turned again towards the sea and he saw his ship approaching the harbor.

And upon or by all the mariners,

The men of his own land.

And his soul cried out to them as he said,

Son of my ancient mother,

You riders of the tides,

How often you sailed in my dreams.

And now you come in my awakening,

Which is my deeper dream.

Ready am I to go.

And my eagerness with sails full set awaits the wind.

Only another breath will I breathe in this still air.

Only another loving look cast backward.

And then I shall stand among you,

A seafarer among seafarers.

And you vast sea sleepless mother who alone are peace and freedom to the river and the stream.

Only another winding will this stream make,

Only another murmur in this glade.

And then I shall come to you a boundless drop to a boundless ocean.

And as he walked,

He saw from afar men and women leaving their fields and their vineyards and hastening towards the city gates.

And he heard their voices calling his name and shouting from field to field telling one another of the coming of his ship.

And he said to himself,

Shall the day of parting be a day of gathering?

And shall it be said that my eve was in truth my dawn?

And what shall I give unto him who has left his plow in mid furrow or to him who has stopped the wheel of his winepress?

Shall my heart become a tree heavy laden with fruit that I might gather and give unto them?

And shall my desires flow like a fountain that I may fill their cups?

Am I a harp that the hand of the mighty may touch me or a flute that his breath may pass through me?

A seeker of silences I am I.

And what treasure have I found in silences that I may dispense with confidence?

If this is my day of harvest,

In what fields have I shewed the seed and in what unremembered seasons?

If this indeed be the hour in which I lift up my lantern,

It is not my flame that shall burn therein.

Empty and dark shall I raise my lantern and the guardian of the night shall fill it with oil and he shall light it also.

These things he said in words but much in his heart remained unsaid for he himself could not speak his deeper secret.

And when he entered into the city all the people came to meet him and they were crying out to him as with one voice.

And the elders of the city stood forth and said,

Go not yet away from us.

A noontide have you been in our twilight and your youth has given us dreams to dream.

No stranger are you among us nor guest but our son,

Our dearly beloved.

Suffer not yet our eyes to hunger for your face.

And the priests and priestesses said unto him,

Let not the waves of the sea separate us now and the years you have spent in our midst become a memory.

You have walked among us a spirit and your shadow has been a light upon our faces.

Much have we loved you but speechless was our love and with veils has it been veiled.

Yet now it cries aloud unto you and would stand revealed before you.

And ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

And others came and treated him but he answered them not.

He only bent his head and those who stood near saw his tears falling upon his breast.

And he and the people proceeded towards the great square before the temple.

And there came out of the sanctuary a woman whose name was Amitra and she was a Cirrus.

And he looked upon her with exceeding tenderness for it was she who had first sought and believed in him when he had been but a day in their city.

And she hailed him saying,

Prophet of God in quest of the uttermost long have you searched the distances for your ship.

And now your ship has come and you must needs go.

Deep is your longing for the land of your memories and the dwelling place of your greater desires.

And our love would not bind you nor our needs hold you.

Yet this we ask ere you leave us that you speak to us and give us of your truth.

And we will give it unto our children and they unto their children and it shall not perish.

In your aloneness you have watched with our days and in your wakefulness you have listened to the weeping and the laughter of our sleep.

Now therefore disclose us to ourselves and tell us all that has been shown you of that which is between birth and death.

And the answer people of Orphales of what can I speak save of that which is even now moving within your souls.

And so the introduction concludes with our prophet Amistaph.

And he has an opportunity to speak one last time to the people who he came to know over the last twelve years of his life.

And it's important to know that they've sought him out in this moment not unlike many go to see the colors the leaves turn this hour before the leaves let go give way to the winter.

It's an opportune time to pause and reflect and find this sense of gratitude connection.

Although just one drop to bound this drop and to bound this ocean and so it is we offer this blessing in closing.

May you be happy.

May you be healthy.

May you be at peace.