Sufi parable from Rumi Perhaps you have heard about the custom of kings to place warriors on the left side, the side of the heart and courage. On the right they place advisers and various scribes, since the skill of bookkeeping and writing usually belongs to the right hand. In the center are the Sufis, because in meditation they become mirrors. The king can look at their faces and see his pristine state. Give mirrors to those who are beautiful and let them fall in love with themselves, so that they can polish their souls and kindle remembrance in others.
One day Joseph was visited by a close childhood friend. They shared the secrets that children tell each other when they lie on their pillows before falling asleep. The two were completely sincere with each other. A friend asked:
- How did you feel when you realized that your brothers were envious and plotting against you?
“I felt like a lion with a chain around my neck.” Not humiliated by this chain, not complaining, but simply waiting for my strength to be recognized.
- And in the well, and then in prison? What was it like there?
- Like the moon, when it is at a loss, but knows that fullness will come. Like a pearl, ground into powder for a potion, knowing that it will become light in human eyes. Like a grain of wheat opening in the ground, growing, then reaped, ground in a mill into flour, baked, crumbled again between the teeth to become the deepest understanding in man. Lost in love, like those songs that sowers sing on the night after sowing grain.
There is no end to this. But let’s return to what that glorious man talked with Joseph about.
- What, my friend, did you bring me? You know that it is unbecoming for a stranger to show up empty-handed at the door of a friend like me. It's like going to the mill without a grain of wheat. God will ask at the resurrection: “Did you bring me a gift? Forgot? Or maybe you thought you wouldn’t see me?”
Joseph continued to tease.
The guest began:
“You have no idea how I was looking for a gift for you.” But everything seemed out of place. You can’t carry gold into a gold mine, or a drop of water into the sea of Oman! Everything that came to mind was tantamount to carrying cumin grains to the city of Kermansha, where cumin originates from. All grains are already stored in your barns. You even have my love and soul, so I couldn’t give them either. I brought you a mirror. Look at yourself and remember me.
He took the mirror out from under his cape, where he had been saving it.
What is the mirror of existence? Nothingness. Always bring the mirror of nothingness as a gift. Any other gift is ridiculous.
Let the poor man look deeply into generosity. Let the bread see the starving man. Let the tinder see the spark of the wood.
An empty mirror and your disastrous habits when you hold them opposite each other is when real things begin. That's where arts and crafts come in.
A tailor needs a torn caftan to practice his art.
Tree trunks have to be cut down one at a time in order for a cabinetmaker to be able to use them.
A doctor needs a broken leg to heal it. Flaws are ways for glory to manifest itself. Whoever sees what his illness is will gallop along the path.
There is nothing worse than thinking that you are in good health. More than anything else, complacency blocks the path to mastery.
Place your baseness in front of the mirror and cry. Let the complacency flow out of you!
Satan thought: “I am better than Adam,” and this “better” still sits firmly in us.
Your running water may look clean, but there's still undisturbed turbidity at the bottom. Your sheikh can dig a drainage channel that will lead the turbidity out.
Entrust your wound to the healing of a teacher. Flies flock to the wound. They cover it, these flies of self-justification, of your love for what you consider to be yours. Let the teacher brush away the flies and bandage the wound. Don't turn your head away. Keep looking at the bandaged area. That's where the light comes into you. And don’t believe even for a moment that you are healing yourself.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru