If Peter Hodges had asked Donna Vasquez to go on a second date 30 years ago, would a Rumi Festival be coming to Boise this weekend?
That question involves random events, choice and fate, and the nature of our world. It's probably a question best left to philosophers.
Oh, wait, Hodges is a philosopher. After 30 years of marriages and divorces, kids and missed timing, Hodges found Donna through a random Google search. He courted her, moved to Boise and took a teaching job at Boise State University. The two married just more than a year ago.
Now they are pooling their energy to create a Rumi Festival in Boise, an event organized to celebrate the 800th birthday of Meulana Jalal'ad-din Rumi, the 13th century Sufi writer and mystic who is today one of the most-read poets in the United States.
For the festival they will bring Coleman Barks, widely considered the best translator of Rumi's works, to Boise.
He will read from his latest book, "Rumi: Bridge to the Soul," (Harper Collins, $17.95) and perform with musicians Barry and Shelley Phillips and vocalist Chloe Goodchild.
A drop of water
Rumi's voice comes out of Islam. The Sufis pursue the ecstatic experience in nature and life. As a belief, Sufism says the inward path is the reality. The outward path then becomes its reflection, Peter says.
It's a notion shared by many religions and philosophies around the world, but not by most western faiths where the division between body and soul is distinct.
Today, these notions have been adopted by New Age philosophies that blend ideas from disparate faiths. Rumi's poetry has become the voice of these ideas for some.
To explain Sufi thought, Hodges refers to a poem about a drop of water that falls into the ocean.
"In the Western thought we would think the drop becomes annihilated and is absorbed into the ocean. There is no more drop of water," Peter says. "What Rumi says is that the drop was drawn to the ocean so now the ocean is that drop of water. There's a whole change of perception."
Rumi writes:
"… Now, your waterbead lets go and drops into the ocean, where it came from.
It no longer has the form it had, but it's still water.
The essence is the same.
This giving up is not a repenting.
It's a deep honoring of yourself.
When the ocean comes to you as a lover, marry at once, quickly …"
That idea of human beings as the drop, dovetails into Hodges' bent toward environmental ethics, he says.
"We can no longer accept the separation between humans and the natural world. That separation is destroying the potential of us continuing as a species."
That idea also leads to a romantic notion of the relationship between a man and a woman. The relationship becomes symbolic of the relationship between God, the natural world, the universe and humans.
"It's not distinct from some force that created it; it is the force itself," Hodges says.
Romance of Rumi
That notion becomes incredibly romantic in the words of the poet.
"You want to romance someone, read this to her," Hodges said.
That's what he did. As Hodges courted Vasquez, he read Rumi's poetry to her on the phone.
"I called it our ‘Rumi to-me' time," Vasquez said.
For her, the words became the story of their romance.
At their wedding at Municipal Park, they played Coleman Barks' recordings of Rumi's words set to music at the beginning and ended with a recitation of his poem, "There is Some Kiss We Want."
Over coffee, they both revealed their journey of long-lost to recently found love.
"I was in love with her from the moment I saw her in seventh grade," Hodges said.
By high school he was riding his unicycle to school, sometimes as he juggled, to impress her. He hung around and became her friend.
"I had no idea he liked me," Vasquez said.
When they were both 16, they went on their first dates with each other, but he never called for a second date.
"I just didn't have the confidence," he said.
From that classic romantic beginning, the two went off on their separate lives: Vasquez married twice, had two children and ended up in Boise; Hodges married once and taught philosophy at three Southern California colleges. Though they occasionally saw each other at high school reunions, they remained distant friends.
That is, until a friend suggested Hodges try Googling someone.
"There was only one person I cared to know where they were, and that was Donna," he said.
Hodges found an online Idaho Statesman article about Vasquez, who was then the director of the Hispanic Cultural Center of Idaho and a struggling single mom.
He called her the next day.
And that's where fate steps in.
The night Hodges Googled her, Vasquez did something out of the ordinary for her: she stayed in, lit candles and read poetry.
"I was always on the go, moving and doing," Vasquez said. "That night I said, ‘I'm going to make my home my sanctuary. I'm going to stay home and read a book.' I needed to be quiet."
Her thoughts occupied with a poem that reminded her of her grandfather, she stood up to stretch.
"I found myself saying, ‘Pete Hodges, you're my soul mate.' I didn't think it. It just came out of me. I hadn't thought about him for years," she said.
The next morning when she went to work, she listened to her voice mail and was astounded to hear Hodges' voice.
"I couldn't believe it. I just screamed," she said.
The romance ignited quickly.
Hodges began traveling to Boise regularly, found a job at BSU and knew all along that this was finally his chance.
They still read Rumi daily.
When Vasquez realized that the poet's 800th birthday was near, she suggested they do something in Boise to mark it.
On a lark they called Barks and though he was traveling often to Rumi events around the world, he was able to come to Boise this weekend.
When the plans began coming together Hodges took the idea to BSU philosophy department chairman Andrew B. Schoedinger. Now the philosophy department is presenting the event at the Morrison Center.
Dana Oland: 377-6442
