Rumi-nations...

[Guest guest]

Mazie posted this on Adyashanti

written by my favorite Rumiand I thought it rang so true, That I post it here for you

 

"Will she ever stop her lame rhymes"

You ask? Into the mix little Lady Joyce chimes...

I am not the doer...I am not the doer

You are...you are...you are!!!

 

Love,

 

Joyce

 

(as she places her hand over the mouth of the bold little lady Joyce,

to try to squelch her squeaky singsong 7 year old voice)

====================================================

 

 

Moses heard a shepherd on the road praying,"God, where are you? I want to help you,

to fix your shoes and comb your hair.

I want to wash your clothesand pick the lice off. I want to bring you

milkto kiss your little hands and feet when it's timefor you to go to

bed. I want to sweep your roomand keep it neat. God, my sheep and

goatsare yours. All I can say, remembering you,is ayyyy and

ahhhhhhhh."

Moses could stand it no longer."Who are you talking to?""The one who

made us,and made the earth and made the sky.""Don't talk about shoes

and socks with God!

And what's this with 'your little hands and feet?'

Such blasphemous familiarity sounds likeyou're chatting with your

uncles.Only something that grows needs milk.

Only someone with feet needs shoes. Not God!Even if you meant God's

human representatives,as when God said, 'I was sick, and you did not

visit me,'even then this tone would be foolish and irreverent.Use

appropriate terms. Fatima is a fine namefor a woman, but if you call

a man Fatima,it's an insult. Body-and-birth languageare right for us

on this side of the river,but not for addressing the origin,not for

Allah."The shepherd repented and tore his clothes and sighedand

wandered out into the desert.A sudden revelation came then to Moses.

God's voice:You have separated me from one of my own.

Did you come as a Prophet to unite,or to sever?I have given each being

a separate and unique wayof seeing and knowing and saying that

knowledge.What seems wrong to you is right for him.What is poison to

one is honey to someone else.Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence

in worship,these mean nothing to me.I am apart from all that.Ways of

worshiping are not to be ranked as betteror worse than one

another.Hindus do Hindu things.The Dravidian Muslims in India do what

they do.It's all praise, and it's all right.It's not me that's

glorified in acts of worship.It's the worshipers! I don't hear the

wordsthey say. I look inside at the humility.That broken-open

lowliness is the reality,not the language! Forget phraseology.I want

burning, burning.Be friends with your burning.

Burn up your thinkingand your forms of expression!Moses,those who pay

attention to ways of behavingand speaking are one sort,Lovers who

burnare another.Don't impose a property taxon a burned-out village.

Don't scold the Lover.The "wrong" way he talks is better than a

hundred"right" ways of others.

Inside the Kaabait doesn't matter which direction you pointyour prayer

rug!The ocean diver doesn't need snowshoes!The love-religion has no

code or doctrine.Only God.So the ruby has nothing engraved on it!It

doesn't need markings.

God began speaking deeper mysteries to Moses.

Vision and words, which cannot be recorded here,

poured into and through him.

He left himself and came back.He went to eternity and came back

here.Many times this happened.It's foolish of meto try and say this.

If I did say it,it would uproot our human intelligences.It would

shatter all writing pens.Moses ran after the shepherd.He followed the

bewildered footprints,in one place moving straight like a castleacross

a chessboard. In another, sideways,like a bishop.Now surging like a

wave cresting,now sliding down like a fish,with always his feetmaking

geomancy symbols in the sand,recording his wandering state.Moses

finally caught up with him."I was wrong. God has revealed to methat

there are no rules for worship.Say whatever and however your loving

tells you to.

Your sweet blasphemyis the truest devotion.

Through you a whole world is freed.Loosen your tongue and don't worry

what comes out.It's all the light of the spirit."The shepherd

replied,"Moses, Moses,I've gone beyond even that.You applied the whip

and my horse shied and jumped out of itself.

The divine nature and my human nature came together.Bless your

scolding hand and your arm.I can't say what has happened.What I'm

saying nowis not my real condition. It can't be said."The shepherd

grew quiet.When you look in a mirror,you see yourself, not the state

of the mirror.The flute player puts breath into a flute,and who makes

the music? Not the flute.The flute player!Whenever you speak praiseof

thanksgiving to God, it's always likethis dear shepherd's

simplicity.When you eventually seethrough the veils to how things

really are,you will keep saying againand again,"This is certainly not

likewe thought it was!"

 

~ Rumi

[Guest guest]

Dear Lady Joyce

thank you so much for letting me know this wonderful "poem" bY RUMI

"exactly" the way "I" feel

burning loving LOVE

MICHAEL BINDEL

>"Lady Joyce"

> >

> Rumi-nations... >Mon, 12 Jan 2004

16:47:37 -0500 > >Mazie posted this on Adyashanti > >written by my

favorite Rumi >and I thought it rang so true, >That I post it here

for you > > > >"Will she ever stop her lame rhymes" > >You ask? Into

the mix little Lady Joyce chimes... > >I am not the doer...I am not

the doer > >You are...you are...you are!!! > > > >Love, > > > >Joyce

> > > >(as she places her hand over the mouth >of the bold little

lady Joyce, > >to try to squelch her squeaky >singsong 7 year old

voice) > >==================================================== > > >

> > >Moses heard a shepherd on the road praying, >"God, where are

you? I want to help you, > >to fix your shoes and comb your hair. >

>I want to wash your clothes >and pick the lice off. I want to bring

you milk >to kiss your little hands and feet when it's time >for you

to go to bed. I want to sweep your room >and keep it neat. God, my

sheep and goats >are yours. All I can say, remembering you, >is ayyyy

and ahhhhhhhh." > > >Moses could stand it no longer. >"Who are you

talking to?" >"The one who made us, >and made the earth and made the

sky." >"Don't talk about shoes and socks with God! > >And what's this

with 'your little hands and feet?' > >Such blasphemous familiarity

sounds like >you're chatting with your uncles. >Only something that

grows needs milk. > >Only someone with feet needs shoes. Not God!

>Even if you meant God's human representatives, >as when God said, 'I

was sick, and you did not visit me,' >even then this tone would be

foolish and irreverent. > >Use appropriate terms. Fatima is a fine

name >for a woman, but if you call a man Fatima, >it's an insult.

Body-and-birth language >are right for us on this side of the river,

>but not for addressing the origin, >not for Allah." >The shepherd

repented and tore his clothes and sighed >and wandered out into the

desert. >A sudden revelation came then to Moses. God's voice: >You

have separated me from one of my own. > >Did you come as a Prophet to

unite, >or to sever? >I have given each being a separate and unique

way >of seeing and knowing and saying that knowledge. > >What seems

wrong to you is right for him. >What is poison to one is honey to

someone else. > >Purity and impurity, sloth and diligence in worship,

>these mean nothing to me. >I am apart from all that. >Ways of

worshiping are not to be ranked as better >or worse than one another.

>Hindus do Hindu things. >The Dravidian Muslims in India do what they

do. >It's all praise, and it's all right. > >It's not me that's

glorified in acts of worship. >It's the worshipers! I don't hear the

words >they say. I look inside at the humility. > >That broken-open

lowliness is the reality, >not the language! Forget phraseology. >I

want burning, burning. >Be friends with your burning. > >Burn up your

thinking >and your forms of expression! >Moses, >those who pay

attention to ways of behaving >and speaking are one sort, >Lovers who

burn >are another. >Don't impose a property tax >on a burned-out

village. Don't scold the Lover. >The "wrong" way he talks is better

than a hundred >"right" ways of others. > > >Inside the Kaaba >it

doesn't matter which direction you point >your prayer rug! >The ocean

diver doesn't need snowshoes! >The love-religion has no code or

doctrine. >Only God. >So the ruby has nothing engraved on it! >It

doesn't need markings. > > >God began speaking deeper mysteries to

Moses. > >Vision and words, which cannot be recorded here, > >poured

into and through him. > >He left himself and came back. >He went to

eternity and came back here. >Many times this happened. >It's foolish

of me >to try and say this. If I did say it, >it would uproot our

human intelligences. >It would shatter all writing pens. > >Moses ran

after the shepherd. >He followed the bewildered footprints, >in one

place moving straight like a castle >across a chessboard. In another,

sideways, >like a bishop. >Now surging like a wave cresting, >now

sliding down like a fish, >with always his feet >making geomancy

symbols in the sand, >recording his wandering state. >Moses finally

caught up with him. >"I was wrong. God has revealed to me >that there

are no rules for worship. >Say whatever and however your loving tells

you to. > >Your sweet blasphemy >is the truest devotion. > >Through

you a whole world is freed. >Loosen your tongue and don't worry what

comes out. >It's all the light of the spirit." >The shepherd replied,

>"Moses, Moses, >I've gone beyond even that. >You applied the whip and

my horse shied and jumped out of itself. > >The divine nature and my

human nature came together. >Bless your scolding hand and your arm.

>I can't say what has happened. >What I'm saying now >is not my real

condition. It can't be said." > >The shepherd grew quiet. >When you

look in a mirror, >you see yourself, not the state of the mirror.

>The flute player puts breath into a flute, >and who makes the music?

Not the flute. >The flute player! >Whenever you speak praise >of

thanksgiving to God, it's always like >this dear shepherd's

simplicity. >When you eventually see >through the veils to how things

really are, >you will keep saying again >and again, >"This is

certainly not like >we thought it was!" > > > > ~ Rumi The new MSN

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