The ideal of a mystic
is never to think of disagreeable things.
What one does not want to happen one should not
think about. A mystic erases from his mind all the disagreeable
things of the past. He collects and keeps his happy experiences, and
out of them, he makes a paradise. Are there not many unhappy
people who keep part of the past before them, causing
them pain in their heart? Past is past; it is gone.
There is eternity before us.
the nature and work of a mystic
Real friendship among brothers and sisters on the Sufi path includes the following eight responsibilities:
stanford encyclopedia of philosophy
Consider the Mahatma, the great soul. One Mahatma is busy struggling with himself and struggling with conditions before him and around him. This struggle is not for naught, for it is a conflict with the self, it is a conflict with others, it is a conflict with conditions – conflicts that come from all around, till every bit of that Mahatma is tested and tried, till every bit of his patience is exhausted and his ego is ground. A hard rock is turned into a soft paste – then appears the personality of a Mahatma. This process of effacement, the real meaning of crucifixion is to crucify the false self, that the true self may rise. As long as the false self is not crucified, the true self is not realized.
The path of attainment means embracing this struggle. The man who fails in the world will fail to attain spiritual bliss. Yet, difficulties rise over the head of him who looks at them with awe. But the same difficulties fall at the feet of him who takes no notice of them. Ultimately, verily, independence and indifference are the two wings which enable the soul to fly. This indifference is not a lack of feeling but a mastery, for man without feeling is without life. It is the strength to pour out floods of love, yet keeping your garment of detachment from being wet.
Thus, the rises and falls, the joys and sorrows, the struggles and surrenders, all serve a sacred purpose. Joy and sorrow are the light and shade of life; without light and shade no picture is clear. In the end, love develops into harmony, and of harmony is born beauty. For love is living and therefore growing, love is growing and therefore expanding, there is no limit to the expansion of love, for its source is divine and thus its expansion is perfect. This is the ultimate rise.
Love comes with a knife, not some shy question,
and not with fears for its reputation.
I say these things disinterestedly.
Accept them in kind.
Love is a madman,
working his wild schemes,
tearing off his clothes, running through the mountains,
drinking poison, and now quietly choosing annihilation.
A tiny spider tries to wrap an enormous wasp.
Think of the spiderweb
woven across the cave where Muhammad slept.
There are love stories,
and there is obliteration into love.
You have been walking the ocean’s edge,
holding up your robes to keep them dry.
You must dive naked under and deeper under,
a thousand times deeper. Love flows down.
The ground submits to the sky and suffers what comes.
Tell me, is the earth worse for giving in like that?
Do not put blankets over the drum.
Open completely.
Let your spirit listen
to the green dome’s passionate murmur.
Let the cords of your robe be untied.
Shiver in this new love beyond all above and below.
The sun rises, but which way does the night go?
I have no more words.
Let the soul speak with the silent articulation of a face.
…
Someone who does not run
toward the allure of love walks
a road where nothing lives.
But this dove here senses
the love hawk floating above,
and waits, and will not be driven
or scared to safety.
Many seek protection
from all hurting influences by building
some wall around themselves. But the canopy over
the earth is so high that a wall cannot be built high enough,
and the only thing one can do is to live in the midst of all
inharmonious influences, to strengthen his will power
and to bear all things, yet keeping the fineness
of character and a nobleness of manner
together with an ever-living
heart.
To become cold with the coldness
of the world is weakness, and to become broken
by the hardness of the world is feebleness, but to live in the world
and yet to keep above the world is like walking on the water. There are two
essential duties for the man of wisdom and love; that is to keep the love
in our nature ever increasing and expanding and to strengthen the
will so that the heart may not be easily broken. Balance is ideal
in life; man must be fine and yet strong, man must
be loving and yet powerful.