February 20, 2014
A sage went out to till his field, and saw a peacock busily engaged in destroying his own plumage with his beak. At seeing this insane self-destruction the sage could not refrain himself, but cried out to the peacock to forbear from mutilating himself and spoiling his beauty in so wanton a manner. The peacock then explained to him that the bright plumage which he admired so much was a fruitful source of danger to its unfortunate owner, as it led to his being constantly pursued by hunters, whom he had no strength to contend against; and he had accordingly decided on ridding himself of it with his own beak, and making himself so ugly that no hunter would in future care to molest him.
The poet proceeds to point out that worldly cleverness and accomplishments and wealth endanger man's spiritual life, like the peacock's plumage; but, nevertheless, they are appointed for our probation, and without such trials there can be no virtue.
(adapted from E.H. Whinfield, M.A.’s translation of
Masnavi i Ma’navi: Teachings of Rumi, p. 335 - 336)
***
We are all endowed with the seeds of divine gifts. Such gifts are often bestowed to us as potentials directly from the Beloved. These are different than the individual (often ego-based) skills we cultivate through physical and mental endeavor. Divine gifts tie directly to the purpose of our creation: they are spiritually based even if they manifest physically and mentally. These gifts bloom to the extent we surrender and live obedience to the will of the Beloved.
As a person’s surrender and obedience deepen, often through maturity of ethical behavior and sincerity, the seeds of divine gifts blossom on their own. For some, such a seed becomes a sprout poking through the soil (surface) of our lives. For others, the sprout grows to be a stem yielding buds. For others, the buds may bloom into an open tulip or rose. But for those who go even deeper, the flower can be transformed into a beautiful peacock with an amazing plumage of vibrant and diverse hues.
The beauty of a such a peacock is no small treasure. For those who have had the fortune of seeing a peacock in person, you may remember not only the magnificence of its feathers but also the beauty of how it carries itself. For even the most humble peacock, its beauty is majestic. And by no effort of its own, this effortless majesty draws the eyes of hunters. Some hunt because of jealousy and envy: they won’t commit to the path of surrender and obedience, instead attacking those who do. Some hunt thinking that if they capture a peacock they can, in some way, take possession of its beauty. Some hunt for the sake of pride and power, thinking that capturing or destroying such beauty elevates their sense of (self-)importance. Whatever the reasons, spiritual peacocks, simply by adhering to the path of surrender and obedience, blossom beauty that attracts the danger of being attacked by others.
Thus, the stage is set for the opening of this story. Here, the sage (a spiritual peacock) encounters an earthly peacock engaged in an act of insane self-destruction. Part of what makes this act insane in the eyes of Sufis is that it proceeds from a forgetfulness that this beauty is a gift from the Beloved. The peacock is correct in assessing that the danger it faces from hunters is tied to having such a beautiful plumage. In forgetfulness, the peacock regards itself as an unfortunate owner that would rather destroy his own plumage with his beak, making himself so ugly that no hunter would in future care to molest him. Further, the peacock adds he has no strength to contend against the hunters: as beautiful as the feathers are, they are not designed to thwart attacks from others. Thus, the peacock conceives logical reasons for mutilating himself and spoiling his beauty in so wanton a manner.
How often would we rather shed or conceal a divine gift for the sake of avoiding criticism, resistance, persecution, and other attacks? If we do so, we become the hunters we seek to avoid: using our own means to decimate a gift bestowed upon us by the Beloved, a gift we cannot attain by our own means. We may be correct that the lessening or destruction of these gifts will result in less danger, but at what cost? To question this path of self-harm, Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi has the peacock encounter the sage.
The choice of a sage, instead of all the other types of persons that could have been selected, is not coincidental. The overwhelming majority of sages encounter this same dynamic as they progress along the path of deepening surrender and obedience. When they are dressed in spiritual plumage they are attacked. The stories of so many prophets, saints, and sages attest to this. But this applies to any person dressed in spiritual plumage. Part of being dressed in such grace includes bearing and suffering attacks and hardships from others. It is a package deal, just as having a car means you will eventually get a flat tire. Countless masters caution against seeking to avoid the hardships of being dressed in spiritual plumage. The Beloved, who dresses us in these gifts, does not allow us to suffer attacks we cannot bear. In the Qur’aan it is said: “On no soul doth Allah place a burden greater than it can bear.” (Surah 2, Verse 286, Translated by Yusuf Ali)
The wise use such attacks to purify any lingering tendencies that are not in complete acceptance of what the Beloved wills or allows to happen. They remember such attacks are directly connected to the divine gifts given by the Beloved, but in no way allow the attacks to become more important than these divine treasures. And rarely do such attacks, when bore with patience, eliminate all the plumage bestowed upon us, even if we are wounded. But we, through our own self-destructive means, can completely eliminate all the plumage from our lives.
The sage also remembers, despite what attacks it may bear, that it is still protected. The Prophet Muhammad (p.b.u.h.) is an example of this. Despite the immense persecution he suffered in the early days of Islam, including plots to kill him, he was never murdered. On the day he left Mecca, he walked through a group of men with swords in hand who assembled to kill him, but their eyes were blinded by the Beloved granting Muhammad safe passage. Certain attacks we are protected from for the sake of fulfilling the purpose of the plumage the Beloved dresses us with. Sometimes we are not shown what we are protected from, yet are protected nonetheless. Spiritual plumage, as beautiful as it is, is not bestowed for the sake of decoration alone: there is a purpose the Beloved has for such gifts, which will be brought to fulfillment when the Beloved wills. Any attacks that may hinder such fulfillment the Beloved protects us from.
Now don’t view divine protection through the eyes of the ego: it is not an invitation to be a masochist or a martyr, to be arrogant or reckless. In receiving spiritual plumage we also receive a precious duty: to serve where we are called to serve and to navigate avoidable dangers. This duty also includes to suffer dangers that are not avoidable, and to bear them with dignity and remembrance that they are gifts from the Beloved. In this vein, Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi concludes that the dangers we face are appointed for our probation, and without such trials there can be no virtue. One of the truest tests of virtue is to remain virtuous in the face of evil and its dangers. Most virtues, like feathers, are not designed to attack others (like claws) or even to shield from attack (like a turtle’s shell) -- the Beloved can dress us in such if It wills. Some virtues even demand that we seek to do good to those who attack us, the prophets Muhammad and Iisaa (Jesus, a.s.) being notable examples of this.
The way of holding spiritual plumage is not the way of force; the path of virtue is often strengthened through humility and patience, not aggression and destruction. Yet the beauty of virtue transcends the bounds of time, and even the experience of being attacked. When the things of this world pass, the spiritual plumage will remain; and even in the midst of attacks its beauty reigns, a truth evident to those who keep this remembrance.
So if you are dressed with spiritual plumage, despite the dangers such may attract, do not destroy your feathers with your own beak. Remembrance of the treasures you are dressed with, the preciousness of such gifts, is sufficient to face whatever dangers the Beloved allows to come. Avoid what you can but bear the rest with virtuous dignity.
