Rumi, born in 13th-century Persia, was more than a poet. He was a mystic, a seeker, a soul who danced his way into divine union. Through music, poetry, and movement, he explored the sacred terrain of longing—the ache to return to the Beloved, the source, the root from which we all come.
In Sufi tradition, this longing is not romantic in the conventional sense. It is spiritual. It is the yearning to dissolve the illusion of separation and remember that we are already held, already loved, already whole. The concept of tawhīd—oneness with the divine—is central to Rumi’s work. And love, in this context, is not something we earn or find. It is something we remember.
Love as a Returning
To read Rumi is to be reminded that love is not a destination. It is a returning. A softening. A surrender. And yet, so often, we armor ourselves against it. We build barriers—out of fear, out of grief, out of the stories we’ve been told and the wounds we’ve carried.
These barriers might look like:
Distrust of tenderness
Shame around vulnerability
Belief that we are too much or not enough
The ache of abandonment, still echoing
The need to control what cannot be controlled
Rumi doesn’t ask us to demolish these walls in a blaze of glory. He invites us to notice them. To sit beside them. To ask, gently: What were you protecting me from? And then, to listen.
Within Yourself: The Garden of Love
Rumi’s deepest truth is that the Garden of Love is within. The garden of love is not outside us. It blooms within. When we tend to our inner soil, when we clear the weeds of fear and shame, when we water the roots of compassion and truth, love grows. Not as a performance, but as a presence.
Rumi’s poetry reminds us that the Beloved is not far away. The Beloved is within. And every barrier we dissolve brings us closer—not to someone else, but to our own soul.
A Gentle Practice
If you feel moved by Rumi’s words, here’s a gentle practice to explore:
Sit quietly and ask yourself: What barriers have I built against love?
Write them down without judgment.
For each one, ask: What did this protect me from? What do I need now?
Offer yourself compassion. You built these walls for a reason. And now, you get to choose which ones to keep, and which ones to soften.
What a thought provoking quote... the reason we don't have love is that we have walls built up inside that we need to break down. I need to break those walls down faster:)
ReplyDeleteWe can only go as fast as we can go
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