while you are eating a piece of bread


 

While you are eating

a piece of bread, try to recall

the events that collaborated to let

this take place. The ovens heat that baked

the bread, the plowed earth before that, sunlight,

rain, harvest, the winnowing, the being carried to and

from the mill, the complex idea and the build­ing of the mill

itself. The many motions of weather in the turning of four seasons.

And don’t forget the knife that cuts the bread, the metallurgy and the skill of

forg­ing that blade, and your teeth, those original grinding devices. Then there’s

your stomach digesting the crust and there’s the rest of your body being

nourished, each part in unique ways. Two hundred and forty-eight

bones, five hundred and thirty muscles, three hundred

arteries, ligaments, tendons, cartilage, your organs

and limbs, your brain. As the bread dissolves,

many intelligences within you are deciding

and peacefully agreeing on how to

divide the benefits. If there were

discord, you would feel pain

and cry out, but

you don’t.

 

Now notice the unified

human awareness thoughtfully

living inside your body with a soul

in communion with other spirit-intelligences.

Observe how it sits at the junction of two worlds as

a human being looking with kindness on other human

beings. Some say this is the cul­mination of the body’s long

development and the beginning of the next transformation,

that you that live with gratitude for food and thank­fulness

also for any difficulty, pain, or sudden disappointment,

seeing those too as grace, that you live inside and

outside time as an angelic breadeating witness

taking in this myriad convergence of

providential motions and that you

are in yourself an individual

soul being made from

divine wisdom.

 

Bahauddin, father of Rumi

the drowned book

 

remember you are inside the presence


 

Whatever state you’re in,

remember you are inside the presence.

Out looking for pleasure, there especially —

I have found no delight better than the mix of touch

with love. That taste is the sweetest. When you are tranced

in that, recall who gave you these pleasurable forms and

inclinations. Even when having a brain seizure,

remember how earthquake energy pries

apart mountains and zigzags a stone

wall. Let that core-energy break

your convulsion.

 

When you’re afraid

of a certain man in power, of some

authority binding you, in these anxieties,

as well as in prostration prayer,

taste the presence.

 

Bahauddin, father of Rumi

The Drowned Book

you are the living expression of this

the living expression

 

If

the Way

were about being

a student of something,

it wouldn’t be alive in the world.

It lives because certain people say to 

themselves, “All this teaching is

just for me. I am the living 

expression of

this.”

 

This

isn’t arrogant.

This is humbly keeping the

buddhasLao Tzu, Lalla, Rumi, Suzuki,

BahauddinYuanwu, all of them, alive in the

world. Only you can accomplish this. 

You are the only

one.

 

Wei wu Wei Ching, Chapter 13

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the great crocodile

bahauddin zakariya

 

I tell those around me

that if you turn away from the core,

your soul, you will fall into an unliving stupor.

The great crocodile comes and crushes your ship.

Eyes go one way, ears another; your intelligence

skews beyond reason. This disaster

can visit anyone.

 

When your ability

to choose comes back, your identity

will strengthen; ear and eye will realign;

and you can again be a friend,

a lover, a devotee.

 

Bahauddin, father of Rumi

the drowned book

 

the locusts who descend and eat crops

“now we terminate those who oversee the nuclear weapons, my lord”

 

I have said to the

crude-minded Fakhruddin Razi

and the dull King Khwarazmshah and

several other joyless philosophers, With your way

you leave behind the beauty of flowers and peacefulness

and walk steadily into darkness. You ignore the obvious miracles

in favor of smoke and ghosts. The false self of ego makes your

decisions. You feel confused and blocked, but wisdom

knows that this material world is a door to spirit.

Specific actions are required, and careful

attention must be given

to friendship.

 

We live in a place where

thorns and poisonous plants grow wild,

but fruit trees, roses, and vegetables need tending.

The diligent farming work is virtue. Fakhruddin and Khwarazmshah

disagree. They’re like the locusts who descend and eat crops rather than help

them grow. I wrap myself like Muhammad in this robe of torso, limbs,

and face, this splendid covering of phenomenal existence,

where I grow toward some destiny I know not,

only that I must live fully here

to reach the next.

 

Bahauddin, father of Rumi

the drowned book

 

daniel chatard