Sitting with Rumi on the edge of impasse—T2
(or is it inconsummation—T3, or perhaps identity—T1).
Here, at these Thresholds
the chaff of "knowing"
is carried away by the wind...
as the heart of the matter
falls to the threshing floor
the helpers come to
gather us up so
that we may become
bread for the world.
Zero Circle, Rumi
Be helpless, dumbfounded,
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
To gather us up.
We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty
If we say we can, we’re lying.
If we say No, we don’t see it,
That No will behead us
And shut tight our window onto spirit.
So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Besides ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.
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Notes for the Way
This is a space for Journey Guides to post "field notes" and observations along the path.