whistling inside.

i had an amazing co-worker who used to scold me everytime she'd catch me whistling inside.
"that's horrible luck in my country (russia)!" she'd say.
i miss her everyday... but i must admit i do LOVE whistling, inside and outside.

i've also been lucky enough to have picked up my 'essential rumi' book over the past few days. rumi writes about we human beings as reeds, cut from the field, and of "the beloved's" breath moving through the reeds (us) to create music (spirit). i often think of this when whistling.

i most certainly have a breath moving through me, creating music, creating spirit. and when it comes through as a whistle, it must be the beloved moving through. i'm aware of the urge to whistle. of which song it is that emerges from squeezed lips. of the key in which i whistle (is it too low? too high?) again, of course, i speak in metaphor:

what 'song' is coursing through your body right now?
how urgent is the feeling that you must let it fly into the air? that you must share?
how easy is it to breathe through your 'song'?
how long has it been living inside you, and how does it feel when you hear it echoing off the walls?

perhaps my co-worker was onto something, or perhaps she was communicating a belief about sharing that 'song' that lives within. perhaps it was too personal a thing to share for her.

oh boy. not for me. what a relief to let it emerge.
to feel the beloved (in every sense of the word) loosen my lips, then tighten them for balance and tone... and then.
to whistle from the inside out.

so it is.