October 10, 2013
Whatsoever is perceived by sense the Beloved annuls,
But the Beloved establishes that which is hidden from the senses.
The lover's love is visible, one’s Beloved hidden.
The Friend is absent, the distraction one causes present.
Renounce these affections for outward forms,
Love depends not on outward form or face.
...
Why give your heart to mere stones, O simpleton?
Go! seek the source of light which shineth always!
Distinguish well true dawn from false dawn,
Distinguish the color of the nectar from that of the cup;
So that, instead of many eyes of caprice,
One eye may be opened through patience and constancy.
Then you will behold true colors instead of false,
And precious jewels in lieu of stones.
But what is a jewel? Nay, you will be an ocean of pearls;
Yea, a sun that measures the heavens!
The real Worker is hidden in Its workshop,
Go you into that workshop and see The Worker face to face.
Inasmuch as over that Worker Its work spreads a curtain,
You cannot see the Worker outside Its work.
Since Its workshop is the abode of the Wise One,
Whoso seeks the Worker without is ignorant of It.
Come, then, into Its workshop, which is Not-being,
That you may see the Creator and creation at once.
(adapted from E.H. Whinfield, M.A.’s translation of
Masnavi i Ma’navi: Teachings of Rumi, p. 104 - 105)
***
The distinction between what is true and what is false is a language of realization.
The realization of the Beloved is one of the main aims of the path of the heart. Direct realization, not merely thoughts or dogma or imagination; rather a genuine “experience” (for lack of a better term) of the Beloved. Yet how are we to realize what is Absolute through the finite means of the mind? Can perception perceive the fullness of that which is beyond perception? This is one of the paradoxes of the mystic path, yet Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi’s words give a hint of guidance.
A careful reading of the above will note that Jalaal ud-Diin does not ask us to renounce outward forms, rather to: Renounce these affections for outward forms. It is more often our affections for such forms that blind us from realization of the Beloved. What informs our affections? So often it is the pursuit of sense pleasures. For example, my sight encounters a visually-pleasing flower and then “I (note the “I”) like flowers.” The mind often will then store a memory of this pleasant experience which leaves an impression upon the mind so that in the future if I’m in a place with flowers, my eyes will look to flowers in hopes of having another pleasant experience. Is it the flower that creates this affection? Or is it the workings of my own mind seeking pleasure that creates this affection? At times, seeking aversion from what is unpleasurable can create such affections. The accumulation of these affections become points of misguided identification, that is often called “the ego.” And once the ego is established, selfishness follows -– often in clever and deceptive ways.
Traditional Islam acknowledges the danger of this and presents key elements to address this dynamic. For example, Islam’s moral code explicitly seeks to restrain being led by the ego since so many harmful and immoral acts are performed for the sake of seeking sense-based pleasures. The more prevalent forms of such seeking are played out in pursuing carnal pleasures (including but not limited to sex), palette (taste-based) pleasures, and mind-oriented / worldly conversation (pleasurable to the thinking mind): things traditional Islam’s moral code seeks to restrict. And for Jalaal ud-Diin and many traditional Sufis, additional spiritual practices were embraced to further curb the mind from seeking pleasures. Even the pursuit of a seemingly “small pleasure” can be dangerous because of the impression it leaves upon the mind that pursuit of sense pleasures is okay. I am reminded of a saying that has stuck with me: “If you give the ego a centimeter, it will take the whole universe.” For this reason, Jalaal ud-Diin and other mystics lived within a strict code of discipline so not to be blinded to a greater purpose outward forms can serve.
To be clear, the senses include sight, touch, taste, hearing, smelling, and thinking. It is the thinking component that synthesizes individual components to give the illusion of a fuller experience. For example, the eyes seeing the flower combined with the nose smelling its scent are synthesized in the thinking part of the mind to make the flower seem even more beautiful -- a concept often bigger than the flower itself. But eyes do not smell, nor does the nose see; these are separate faculties of the mind that seem to work inseparably due to the functioning of the thinking part of the mind. The thinking part of the mind also holds the memories of experiences that impress upon the ego / mind traits such as: “I like flowers because they look and smell so good.” These impressions, or personality traits, (powerfully) suggest that we pursue similar experiences in the future to engage in such pleasures again.
But back to the greater purpose outward forms can serve. Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi writes:
The real Worker is hidden in Its workshop,
Go you into that workshop and see The Worker face to face.
Some interpret the workshop to be this realm of creation. That even within this realm, this very life, we can see the Beloved directly. Jalaal ud-Diin doesn’t encourage us to look for the Beloved beyond this creation, but instead within it. But not necessarily with a perception based in the pursuit of sense pleasure.
Inasmuch as over that Worker Its work spreads a curtain,
You cannot see the Worker outside Its work.
The Beloved veils itself with its creation. If we seek to realize the Beloved, we are encouraged to look at its work, its creation. If we look at a person wearing a veil over its face, we may not see the person’s skin. But if we look carefully, we will see how the veil indicates the shape and movement of the face, which may be more informative than the sight of one’s skin. Think about how deceiving an outward form can be: most people would not assume that a person with a serious-looking demeanor could be playful. But if we watch that person, with that same demeanor, act in playful ways, we can come to the realization that such a person is playful.
The unrestrained mind is so quick to make assumptions based on what is initially perceived: looking to the outward and surface of things instead of patiently observing how the inner essence reveals itself through actions. It may be grace that the Beloved doesn’t present an outer form that we may quickly wrongly assess. Instead, the Beloved endlessly reveals itself through its creation, a realization that “may be opened through patience and constancy.”
Come, then, into Its workshop, which is Not-being,
That you may see the Creator and creation at once.
To truly come into creation requires that we embrace Not-being: the annihilation of (the dominance of) the ego. It is amazing how much the lenses of seeking sense pleasures color our perception of things such that we are unable to see things as they are. To return to the example of the flower: after seeing that first flower, if I remain within the mental impression of that experience, every other flower I see afterwards I view through the experience of the first flower. It can be very subtle, but how I gauge the “beauty” (pleasurableness) of future flowers is relative to past flowers. With such a colored sight, am I genuinely able to the see the present flower as it is? Without influence from mental impressions of past experiences?
To the extent that we are able to perceive the outward forms of creation without the veils of pleasure-oriented affection, we will begin to see things as they are. This doesn’t mean we negate the pleasure of what is pleasurable, we just are no longer blinded by that pleasure. And when we see things as they are, we open to the realization that every speck of creation is a testament of the Beloved.
Instead of looking beyond the heavens or within the (often subtle) limitations of one’s mental impressions, selflessly look at every flower and you may see the veiled essence of the Beloved. Not necessarily as the flower but how the flower paints the edges of that invisible oneness that is the Beloved. This applies to every aspect of creation, even the smallest particle of dust. This is not a realization beyond perception, but instead within the clarity of perception when we perceive things clearly without the distortions of the ego. What is seen in selflessness paints the edges of what is unseen, and yet what is unseen permeates what is seen. To find words to describe this is challenging. But if we drop the veils of selfishness and merely observe creation, the clarity of perception will allow us to realize for ourselves the fullness of the Beloved. Then every aspect of creation, every work of the Beloved, reveals the wonder of that which creates and sustains all of creation.
Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi invites us to see the Beloved within the everyday experience of our lives, in every aspect of creation we encounter within the present moment. This doesn’t mean we have to befriend or embrace everything, but instead view every aspect selflessly to allow creation to reveal the Creator. This is an invitation to drop the pursuit of the lesser sense pleasures to realize the endless bliss of directly realizing the Beloved. Such is the abode of the true dawn...
