Rumi-nations....

     Well-my new favorite read is Rumi--the 13c Persian mystic. How I got a copy of "The Essential Rumi" ( a 300+ page collection of his works/translated by Coleman Barks) is a great story. I was in a bookstore, looking at a small collection/sample (less than 50 pages) of his poetry. I felt guilty--the inner voices said "he is a Muslim mystic--wont you be unfaithful to God if you read it?" So--I put it back on the shelf and went up to the checkout with my other purchases. THREE DAYS LATER, I was with a good friend having brunch, when she whipped out a bag and said--hey--I got you a Christmas present--I hope you don't already have it...and it was--you guessed it: THE ESSENTIAL RUMI !!!! :) I laughed out loud right there and felt God saying--"Well, if you can't buy it for yourself, I will GIVE IT TO YOU!!! YOU NEED TO READ THIS!!!"

     Rumi's work--prose and poetry is simply some of the most incredible work I have ever read. His reflections, or pardon the pun, Ruminations :), on God, the contemplative life, and spiritual growth, are like a glass of refreshing ice water to the soul...I don't even know where to start--my words would seem effusive unless you have read it and know what I am talking about...so, here is an appetizer for you all: one of his poems, called "The Pickaxe:"

The Pickaxe
Some commentary on "I was a hidden treasure,
and I desired to be known"; tear down
this house. A hundred thousand new houses
can be built from the transparent yellow carnelian
buried beneath it, and the only way to get to that
is to do the work of demolishing and then
digging under the foundations. With that value
in hand all the new construction will be done
without effort. And anyway, sooner or later this house
will fall on its own. The jewel treasure will be
uncovered, but it won’t be yours then. The buried
wealth is your pay for doing the demolition,
the pick and shovel work. If you wait and just
let it happen, you’d bite your hand and say,
“I didn’t do as I knew I should have.” This
is a rented house. You don’t own the deed.
You have a lease, and you’ve set up a little shop,
where you barely make a living sewing patches
on torn clothing. Yet only a few feet underneath
are two veins, pure red and bright gold carnelian.
Quick! Take the pickaxe and pry the foundation.
You’ve got to quit the seamstress work.
What does the patch-sewing mean, you ask. Eating
and drinking. The heavy cloak of the body
is always getting torn. You patch it with food,
and other restless ego-satisfactions. Rip up
one board from the shop floor and look into
the basement. You’ll see two glints in the dirt.  --Rumi

So, start digging for your treasure my friends--don't settle for anything less. --Pam

Moral Tissues...Ethics Embodied

 Edith Wharton (1862-1937) wrote the following in her novel "Sanctuary" (1903) about a mother who is trying to guide her son...

"It was part of her discernment to be aware that life is the only real counselor, that wisdom unfiltered through personal experience does not become a part of the moral tissues." (p. 123)

There is a lot packed in this little statement I think. First, I think unfiltered wisdom in our day and age is actually called "knowledge". Knowledge about things can be interesting, but what to do with knowledge, applied knowledge, is actually called "wisdom."  And wisdom comes from experience. So...what about the phrase "moral tissues?" That's a new one for me....but...this was written in 1903. I think this is a fascinating somatic idiom, the idea of "moral tissue." Maybe said another way: Ethics cannot simply be a cognitive or intellectual exercise...although clear and rigorous thinking must be part of its formation. Ethics and morality must also become a part of our "moral tissues"...a part of the very fiber of our beings, i.e., ethics must be embodied.  This a challenge for all of us. When the rubber hits the road, when the birds come home to roost, when the gig is up...you name it....our moral fiber is being tested to see if it is really true. We embody what we believe, more than we know.