work the soul with discipline

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Borrow the beloved’s eyes
Look through them and you’ll see the beloved’s face
everywhere. No tiredness, no jaded boredom.
“I shall be your eye and your hand and your loving.”

Let that happen, and things
you have hated will become helpers.
A certain preacher always prays long and with enthusiasm
for thieves and muggers that attack people
on the street. “Let your mercy, O Lord,
cover their insolence.”
He doesn’t pray for the good,
but only for the blatantly cruel.

Why is this? his congregation asks.
“Because they have done me such generous favors.
Every time I turn back toward the things they want.
I run into them, they beat me, and leave me nearly dead
in the road, and I understand, again, that what they want
is not what I want. They keep me on the spiritual path.
That’s why I honor them, and pray for them.”

Those that make you return, for whatever reason,
to God’s solitude, be grateful to them.
Worry about the others, who give you
delicious comforts that keep you from prayer.

Friends are enemies sometimes,
and enemies friends.

There is an animal called an ushghur, a porcupine
If you hit it with a stick, it extends its quills
and gets bigger. The soul is a porcupine,
made strong by stick-beating.
So a prophet’s soul is especially afflicted,
because it has to become so powerful.

A hide is soaked in tanning liquor and becomes leather.
If the tanner did not rub in the acid,
the hide would get foul-smelling and rotten.

The soul is a newly skinned hide, bloody and gross.
Work it with manual discipline,
and the bitter tanning acid of grief,
and you’ll become lovely, and very strong.

If you can’t do this work yourself, don’t worry.
You don’t even have to make a decision,
one way or another. The Friend, who knows
a lot more than you do, will bring difficulties,
and grief, and sickness,
as medicine, as happiness,
as the essence of the moment when you’re beaten,
when you hear Checkmate, and can finally say,
with Hallaj’s voice,
I trust you to kill me.

 

Jalal al-Din Rumi

 

create from joy

hamid sardar-afkhami

 

The most

beautiful paintings and

sculptures, the greatest poetry,

have not always been born from torment

or bitterness. Often they have sprung from

contemplation, from joy, from an instinct or wonder

toward all things. To create from joy, to create from wonder,

demands a continual discipline, a great compassion…With time

and sincerity, you will discover a way to work and write that does

not harm you spiritually, that does not tempt you to vanity,

that is the deepest expression of your spirituality. You

will find a voice that is not your voice only, but the

voice of Reality itself. . . If you can be empty

enough, that voice can speak through you.

If you can be humble enough, that

voice can inhabit you

and use you.

 

Thuksey Rinpoche