Rev Left Radio - [BEST OF] Islamic Mysticism: Rumi, Sufism, and Authentic Spirituality
Episode Date: May 25, 2025ORIGINALLY RELEASED Feb 17, 2025 Dr. Rory Dickson is a professor of Islamic Religion and Culture and author of several publications on Sufism, the mystical path within Islam. He joins Breht to have ...an incredibly deep conversation about the Sufi poet Rumi, his life and work, Rumi's relationship to his teacher Shams of Tabriz, the concepts of fana (annihilation of the self) and baqa (subsistence in God), the spiritual practices of Sufism, non-duality and perennialism, "dying before you die", Buddhist enlightenment, the Quran, Serving the People in politics and religion, the role of Divine Love in spiritual transformation, transcending the ego, Bodhicitta and the Heart of the Bodhisattva, the counter-cultural aspects of the historical dervishes, The Masnavi (aka the "Persian Quran"), Christian Mysticism, the evolution of human consciousness, the linguistics of translation, and much, much more! Check out Rory's book "Dissolving into Being: The Wisdom of Sufi Philosophy" Recommendations for Further Exploration: Rumi's World: The Life and Work of the Great Sufi Poet The Sufi Path of Love: The Spiritual Teachings of Rumi Check out our related episodes with Dr. Adnan Husain: Sufism: Islamic Mysticism and the Annihilation of Self in God St. Francis of Assisi: Patron Saint of Ecology & Brother to All Creation ------------------------------------------------------------ Outro Music: Something's Out There by Neva Dinova Support Rev Left and get bonus episodes on Patreon Make a one-time donation to Rev Left at BuyMeACoffee.com/revleftradio Learn more about Rev Left HERE
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Hello everybody and welcome back to Rev Left Radio.
Today I have for you one of my favorite episodes I've ever done.
I'm just going to say that up front.
A fascinating, in-depth conversation about the Sufi poet Rumi that some of you may
heard of, may know a lot about, may know not a lot about.
But I have on Dr. Rory Dixon to come on.
and talk about Sufism, about the life of Rumi, the work of Rumi.
We just have a fascinating and deep discussion on these traditions, on Buddhism, on Christian mysticism, on Islamic mysticism.
And it's just a profound conversation.
I'm really, really excited to share with all of you, my listeners.
I think no matter what your views on religion are, you're atheistic, you're spiritually inclined,
do you have a set religion or none of the above, I think you will find genuine depth
and fascination in this conversation.
And I could not ask for a better guest.
Just making this stuff so accessible and so well articulated and so inspiring, truly.
I walked away from this conversation genuinely inspired.
And I'm willing to bet you will as well.
So strap in for this wonderful conversation with Rory on Rooney and Sufism more broadly.
And as always, if you like what we do here on Rev Left, you can support us on patreon.com
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its reach if you're so inclined to do so.
But yeah, if not, just go ahead and sit back and enjoy two hours of a fascinating and
incredibly deep conversation with Dr. Rory Dixon on Rumi, Sufism, and Islamic mysticism.
Enjoy.
So my name is Rory Dixon.
I am an associate professor in the Religion and Culture Department at the University of Winnipeg.
And I specialize in the study of Sufism.
And so I've written some stuff on Sufism in North America.
That was really my first major research project.
And I've recently published a book called Dissolving Into Being,
The Wisdom of Sufi Philosophy,
which is turning more to the Sufi philosophical tradition
and trying to, anyways, make that a little bit more accessible for contemporary folks.
I love that.
Very excited to have you on.
As we were talking before, we started recording,
I heard you on the podcast Guru Viking.
And I immediately knew that I had to have you on.
I'm operating out of Omaha, Nebraska, so Winnipeg, I think, is just straight north.
And I'm very excited to have you on the show.
And maybe this will be the beginning of multiple episodes,
because I felt right away when I listened to you that everything you're doing vibes so much with what I'm trying to do here,
beyond just politics here, I dive into religious mysticism, Buddhist philosophy.
I've done episodes on Sufism before, Christian mysticism, et cetera.
So we have a shared spirit for sure, and I'm honored to have you on.
Well, thank you kindly, and I'm honored to be on. So thank you.
Absolutely. Let's get into it. So people listening may or may not know much about Rumi.
I'm sure if you're at all interested in spirituality or religious traditions, you've bumped up against the name, maybe know that Rumi is a poet.
But, you know, I would assume that most people in my audience might not fully understand the historical context, the time period we're talking about, et cetera.
So I think we should start with that.
Who was Rumi? What do we know about his early life, his family, and the sort of context that he was born into?
Yeah, it's a great question, great place to start. I mean, it's interesting when I think of, you know, the name Rumi in the contemporary West, we might say, or in North America.
He has become, I think, quite a universal figure, which in some ways, I think, really does vibe with his writings and his work.
But at the same time, he was also a very particular person who lived in a particular world.
And so happy to talk a bit about that to kind of, let's say, flesh out Rumi.
So his name is, full name was Muhammad Jalalideen, and Jalaladine is an interesting name.
In the Islamic tradition, God is thought to have two kinds of qualities, qualities of Jalal, which means like transcendence, majesty, power, and then also Jamal, which means beauty, intimacy, mercy, close to.
that kind of thing. So Jalaladin means something like the majesty of, and then Dean is an Arabic
term for faith or religion. So Jalaladin is like the majesty of the faith or the majesty of
religion. And so that that was the name that he would have gone by, generally speaking. And then
Rumi, interestingly, literally means the Roman. And this is because Rumi will get to in a second
where he was born, but he really spent the majority of his life in Kenya in Turkey.
And so Turkey was formerly Byzantium or the Byzantine Empire.
So in Muslim cultures, it was generally known as simply Rome.
So he was called Rumi, which means the guy from Rome or from the Roman province or area,
which present-day Turkey was again seemed to be a part of.
So Rumi was actually born into a scholarly family.
family. His father was named Baha'adine, and just like Jalaladin means the majesty of the faith,
Baha'adine means something like the splendor of the faith, so this was fairly common naming
practice. And Baha'adine was an Islamic legal scholar and preacher. He was actually sought out
for his legal rulings, or fatwa. And interestingly with his father, he had quite a profound
mystical side. He was very much a mystic, but he kept this a bit on the
down low. He did have some students, but wasn't, let's say, so public about his quite passionate
mysticism. And we kind of speculated his son Rumi really know much about that side of him.
So we have Bahaddin, Rumi's father, who is an Islamic legal scholar and teacher, but also a
Sufi mystic. And he actually left us a diary that documents his mystical experiences, which is
pretty cool. So now Baha'adine was based in Belch, which is a jub, which is a
just outside of Masari Sharif in present-day Afghanistan.
So Rumi, Jalaladin, was born there in 1207.
And then when he was a small boy, they moved to Samarkand,
which is in present-day Uzbekistan.
So, you know, sometimes Rumi is actually also called Jalalidin al-Belheh,
because, you know, he's really from that region.
But again, we'll see that they made their way west eventually.
So there's a bit of debate over.
whether or not Bahaddin left that that region of Central Asia as a result of Mongol invasions.
I mean, we know that they were definitely coming.
And so it looks like either it was serendipitous that they left just prior or that they were
getting wind, so to speak, of what was coming.
But regardless, by about 1220, they left that region and made their way west for several
years, really.
I mean, they were living in Damascus for a time and then eventually ending up in Kenya in
present-day Turkey. And again, that being the Byzantine region, known as Rome, and hence
Rumi. Now, during that move west, probably about 1718, Rumi was married to the daughter of a family
friend, and by the time he was in Konya, towards the end of the 2020s, he would have had a few
children. And interestingly, his father, now close to 80, because of his scholarly reputation,
was given a teaching position at a college, a madrasa, or an Islamic university, we can say, in Konya.
And so when he dies in 1231, just a few years after getting there, Rumi is sort of appointed as his successor.
And this is interesting, I think, for contemporary listeners, especially here in North America and in what we might broadly call the West,
not always so familiar with this aspect of who Rumi was, but he basically took over from his father teaching what you call the traditional Islamic old
And so elm is an Arabic word for science or knowledge. And the Olum are the sciences, the traditional
Islamic sciences. So this would have included teaching the Quran, teaching hadith reports about what
the Prophet Muhammad said or did, and also Sharia or Islamic law jurisprudence. And he would have been
doing this largely within what's called the Henefi School, which is one of the main schools of
Islamic jurisprudence. So at this point,
Rumi is basically, we can say, a sort of mild-mannered scholarly family man, respectable religious authority.
He developed a kind of prestige as an Islamic scholar and preacher.
There are stories of some local Christians who converted to Islam through his talks.
And so that's basically Rumi up until the meeting with Shams.
Yeah, so do you think it would be appropriate right now to kind of lay some definitions on the table with regards to mysticism?
and the role that Sufism plays within the broader Islamic tradition,
or do you think after this next question it would be better fit?
No, very happy to, yeah.
Okay.
Let's talk about that because I know that, you know, we cover a lot of things,
and Rev. Left is known primarily, obviously, for, you know, political theory, political philosophy,
revolutionary politics.
So, you know, I don't want to leave anybody behind here.
We have done episodes on mysticism.
We've done episodes on Sufism so people can go back and find those if that interests them.
But for those that are just engaging for the first time, sort of what is mysticism as far as you can define it outside of Rumi as a particular person, just as a tradition more broadly?
And then how do you make sense of Sufism within the broader umbrella of the different, you know, sort of sex of Islam?
Yeah, yeah, fantastic questions. Thank you.
And so one of the ways I think about mysticism, and you know, this is obviously having spent most of my time studying Sufism, as opposed to other traditions, I'll maybe use some Sufi terminology.
but I think we can certainly speak quite generally about this.
And actually now that I think about it,
you know, the Christian mystical tradition
shares some of the same terminology.
So I'm thinking of here in the Christian tradition,
this notion of the three eyes.
And it's something that Sufis actually articulated
almost identically and around the same time,
which is quite interesting.
But in the Christian tradition,
there was this sense in the medieval or classical period
that the human being has three faculties of knowing.
And again, Sufis articulated this very, very similarly.
And those faculties are the eye of the flesh, as they called it, the empirical senses.
This is how we know the outer world.
This is how we know physical, material things.
The eye of the mind.
And this is how we would know things like mathematical equations or, you know, maybe the meaning of a play, something like that.
certain things that might not have an exact physical manifestation, but you can sort of see them
with your mind, logic, things like that. And then finally, an eye of the heart or an eye of the
soul. And so I think this is really where mysticism comes in. It's this way of knowing through a
faculty that generally mystics would say is underused. You know, certainly in the Sufi tradition,
this would be seen as the knowledge of the heart. And in Arabic, there's a term, a special
for it, ma'arifa, which sometimes is translated as nosis, of course, noses being a Greek word for
knowledge, but in this case, a special kind of knowledge, and that is a direct knowing through the
heart. And so, you know, mystics would often say, we all actually know through our hearts. We know
when something is meaningful. We know when we love somebody. And you can't really put, you know,
measurements on that. You know, it's not 12 kilograms of love or something like that. But it is a
kind of knowing. You know, you know when you experience something of meaning and significance in
your life. And they would say, well, that's the knowing of the heart. And generally mystical
traditions suggest that this faculty can be developed, much like if you have your eye of the flesh
and you train yourself, you know, to use a microscope. And this is an analogy that Ken Wilbur,
who's an interesting American Buddhist philosopher, you know, he wrote some on this, you know,
you can train these senses to see things that otherwise they couldn't.
And the heart is also something that if polished, so to speak, if clarified, purified, or focused on and
developed through meditation, through various kinds of contemplative practice, that becomes a faculty
through which you can see more.
And so mystics basically say, you know, if you cultivate that faculty, there's a great deal that
can be known. And fundamentally, they suggest that the inner universe is as expansive as the
outer universe, right? So sometimes, uh, you know, Rumi and other Sufis talk about this kind of
ocean. And so it's, it's a bit like living on the surface of an ocean, which is our everyday self.
And, and thinking of it as a kind of puddle because we've never really taken the time to,
to see what's, um, beneath the surface. But according to the mystics, if you do, there is an entire
ocean of being that can be discovered.
Yeah, so let's pause right there because I think you've put a lot on the table.
There's the three ways of knowing are the three eyes, the flesh, the senses.
You can kind of think about empiricism, going out in the world, interacting with the physical
world and gaining knowledge that way.
There's the mind or the ability to abstract, right, to think abstractly.
This can be thought of as the philosophical tradition of rationalism in some sense.
We all are familiar with that mind and matter.
And then there's this heart, soul, or spiritual approach.
which can also be cultivated, but is often hidden, often obscured,
obviously not very, you know, in a mainstream sense, culturally known or talked about.
And that's much more about like a sort of direct experience, you know,
without the veil of conceptual thinking or even without the veil of bodily sensory organs
in some sense that you can find a place within you that can go beyond the limitations of the senses
and of the abstract conceptual mind and sort of touch reality.
directly. And, you know, through practices in my tradition of Buddhism, it's obviously
meditation and, you know, there's practices in all of these mystical traditions. But, you know,
I've, and I don't want to get too much about me, of course, we'll move on quickly. But through,
you know, many, many years of meditative practices, I've had these experiences that often are
on the tail end of long periods of sort of existential and spiritual suffering where because I'm so
softened by my suffering internally. The ego loses its sort of grip, at least momentarily.
And the way that that's manifested for me is a profound feeling of being swamped by love
where I look out at the world. And, you know, there's this one story I've told in past
episodes where I'm in the Target parking lot after this long, multi-month sort of session of
suffering. And I just sort of broke open. And what happened was that, like,
my ego, the sense of an individual controller behind my eyes and between my ears, you know,
experiencing things or alienated from the world, got flooded out by this complete feeling of
unconditional love for every single stranger I saw. And like I wept with overwhelming love for these
complete strangers as if they were not only myself, but my own children, which I would say I love
more than myself, right? Like I loved them so much. I wanted to hold them all and protect them from
suffering and it only lasted a few moments. It's happened a couple times in my life, always at the
tail end of profound sessions of internal suffering. But, you know, I just felt like I touched something
deep. And that went beyond the senses. That went beyond the abstract mind. And that touched something
much, much deeper. And I think that is maybe a personal experience of mind that kind of gestures
towards what we're talking about when we discuss this mysticism or this heart, soul, direct
experience orientation, right? Yeah. And, you know, if,
you don't mind, I'll just share another anecdote that's kind of along those lines. And I think,
you know, this will also eventually take us into Rumi and the Sufi tradition, which really speaks
of this, this love, divine love, cosmic love, universal love, both within and without, as being
like a wine, right? So they use this metaphor of wine. And they talk about a master, a mystical
teacher being like a tavern owner or bartender who liberally pours the wine. And so it makes
me think of an experience I had that maybe is a bit similar to what you're describing. And it was
meeting with the Sufi teacher in the United States. And we interviewed, I'd interviewed him for
some of my research. And he'd kind of offhandedly shared, you know, if you want to hang out and meditate
with us after. I was like, yeah, you know, I made my way here. And let's, let's, let's, let's
do it. So I sat and was really just, you know, doing my usual. I sit there and doing my,
basically some kind of, like a mantra in the Sufi tradition, you know, repeating certain names of
God, which I normally do and can have some interesting experiences with, but nothing quite like
this. And all of a sudden, I, exactly as you're describing, I found myself, just almost
feeling like an infant in, in the arms of some giant beautiful love that I just felt like this
is all any of us are ever going for, you know, and also like wanting to just give it to everybody
and then thinking of everybody that I know and care about. I'm like, I would love just to give them
this. And, you know, and then after we, and it was, you know, 20 minute, half hour meditation. And
I kind of stood up and was almost like stumbling a little bit. And one of the other students there
came up and said, aren't you glad you didn't drive here? And I laughed and I, and all of a sudden,
I'm like, oh, I get now why folks like Rumi talk about this, this wine and this drunkenness,
because it's so powerful that, you know, I mean, we all sort of stumbled out.
And it's, yeah, it's a pretty cool thing.
Absolutely gorgeous.
Absolutely gorgeous.
And after you have a heart opening like that, it certainly oscillates back, right?
There is a constriction after that, but it never fully closes.
The door is always cracked.
And I think it makes you more attuned to human suffering, more able to.
you know, push forth like loving compassion, a deeper understanding and a sort of wisdom
that can emerge from that. Even if you constrict back into ego and your heart shuts 98%
of the way again, there's still left an indelible mark. And you can continue to develop that
through more practice. I think that's right, yeah. All right. Well, let's get back into Rumi.
I do want to circle back later and touch on the Ken Wilber thing. I think there's something interesting
there, but we'll get there maybe. But let's go ahead and talk about this transformation.
You talked about the biography of Rumi leading up to his meeting with Shams of Tabriz.
So who was Shams and why was this relationship so deeply impactful for Rumi?
Yeah, a great question again.
And I think what's interesting about Shams is it really allows me to say just a few words about the Sufi tradition more generally
because it takes many forms historically.
And so certainly in the West when scholars were first discovering Sufism,
they weren't really sure what to make of it.
And some saw it as being something separate from Islam or outside of it.
But what I've really found in my research, both of contemporary Sufism and looking at the classical texts,
is that it really has taken on a few different forms.
So probably the majority of Sufis historically would have been pretty well ensconced in the traditional systems of Islamic knowledge.
So many of them would have been scholars like Rumi's father.
You know, Rumi's father, Baha'adine, is a great exact.
of that. You know, somebody trained in the classical Islamic sciences, you know, the law, the scripture, but also a mystic, you know, and I, and I think that's how a lot of Sufis were. But there were also punk rock Sufis, basically, you know, people who really, the dervishes, they were called, or the colanders. And these folks really were on the outskirts of society. I mean, some were pretty wild. They let their hair grow into dreads. They could be pierced, you know, not wearing a lot of clothes, which, again,
And Islamic clothing norms tend to be, you know, emphasizing, covering.
And so they could have been quite shocking and very countercultural in a way.
Some even purposefully wore their hat crooked.
It's kind of like if you think in North America, you know, the backwards cap.
They kind of had this like doing things differently.
And so interestingly, Shams is kind of a, he's a bit of both, which is so interesting.
You know, he was trained in the classical Islamic sciences like Rumi.
and Shams, you know, was also a wandering dervish.
He didn't really have an address and he would basically go from village to town to village,
really wandering much of Central Asia.
Now, his name Shams means son.
So Shams is the Arabic word for sun and Tabrizzi means he's from Tabriz.
So again, hailing from Central Asia.
And he actually said to Rumi when eventually they were together,
and having a sort of teacher-student relationship that he said, you know, Tabriz, he said, I'm the driftwood that's washed up from the oceans there.
You know, he felt like there were some very, very powerful, realized mystics in Tabriz and that he saw himself as kind of the debris that has washed up.
So, Tabriz was known historically as a hotbed, we can say, of Sufism.
And so Shams was one of these wandering dervishes, again, though, you know, trained in the Islamic sciences, but definitely not one who,
who was conventional in his understanding.
He was uncompromising.
He actually would joke later that Rumi was too nice.
He said, you know, if Rumi sees somebody and they're about to fall into a pit, you know, he might be too shy to do something.
He said, but I'll grab that person by the tail and yank them out.
So, you know, I think metaphorically what he was referring to is if he sees somebody, you know, getting caught in delusion, he's willing to yank them out of that.
and so this was one of his characteristics
kind of a fiery passionate dervish
and so what's kind of fascinating
about the eventual meeting with Rumi
there are all these great stories about it
and one of my favorite is
and this one is almost certainly legendary
but it's still great and
you know Rumi's having one of his classes
right he's again this kind of respectable
family man scholar
and also here we're getting a classic story
of like the scholar
encountering the mystic
and I know in the Buddhist tradition
there are some really wonderful
stories of this as well
like Noropa
in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition
or the Vajriana tradition
that's another great one
and so here
you know Rumi is teaching
one of his classes
and in wanders this
you know fiery dervish
probably looking a little sketchy
and he asks Rumi
as Rumi's holding a book
what's that
and Rumi says
you wouldn't
know or you wouldn't understand all of a sudden the book starts on fire and rumy goes what's this
and shams goes you wouldn't understand either wow yeah so it's a it's a great and really there's
such a powerful symbol there because shams was also even though again having been trained in
scripture and things like that he really felt like books were not it you know that was one of the
things that he was trying to show rumi that words and concepts and books can become a giant
over discovering your own essence, discovering reality, discovering the living reality of love and God.
So he really was somebody who, when they met each other, and another story is that he presented
to Rumi a kind of Islamic koan, you know, that one of the highest of the Islamic saints or one
of the highest of the Sufis, Biazid, Istami, basically at one point said something like, you know,
glory be to me, which, you know, using an Arabic phrase that you use,
used for God, sort of almost like suggesting that he had become one with God. And then the Prophet
Muhammad was always praying to know more God. And so he'd kind of pitched to Rumi, perhaps,
you know, who was, who had realized more. And either Shams or Rumi, you know, one of them had said
to the other, and this is partly where they bonded, that actually the Prophet Muhammad was realized
more because something like Biazid, you know, he got drunk off of one cup and he was satisfied. But
the prophet Muhammad, you know, his thirst was never quenched. He always won't know more and no more. And
for sure in Sufi philosophy, the idea is that knowledge of God is infinite because God is infinite
and never repeats himself as the saying, Sufi saying goes. So reality is new every moment
for infinity without any repetition forever. So the sense of a kind of, again, infinite ocean
of knowledge. So however that encounter was, again, whether a book started on fire or not,
Who can say?
But definitely, I think Rumi was just completely dumbstruck by the power and presence of Shams.
You know, definitely, as we've been describing, encountering a profound experience of love.
And, you know, really just totally transformative.
And Shams would even joke that he said, once people taste my company, all other companies starts to taste bitter,
which is a bit of a joke.
But this is basically what happened.
you know, Rumi started spending all of his time with Shams and really, I think, wanting to
kind of absorb that, that realization, that spiritual state, that love, that knowledge.
And so eventually this would become a bit of an issue, you know, Rumi's family and other
students and scholars were kind of like, what's happening to Rumi here.
He's getting, like, caught up with the sketchy dervish and hanging up with him all the time.
and so it's i think basically shams would have sensed that there was trouble brewing and
and just left and i think also this wanting rumi to discover uh within to discover the
reality of shams of the spiritual sun within himself and so he he leaves and and this puts
rumy in uh definitely a state because at this point he's it's almost like you know the water
he you know he's he's now like scrounging you know struggling trying to find this water
that he was almost living off of spiritually speaking.
And so eventually, from what we know,
he does find Shams in Damascus
and sends one of his sons to bring him back.
And Shams then basically lives, I think,
if not in the same household, quite close to Rumi.
He marries a woman in Rumi's household.
And basically, they spend some time together,
probably a few years.
And I think this is where really, you know, Rumi kind of deepens his spiritual realization.
But the jealousy continues from family members, and it looks like, from what we know,
one of Rumi's sons kind of orchestrated the killing of Shams.
And so, you know, Rumi doesn't know this.
And he starts, you know, frantically, he thinks, okay, Shams has just left again.
So apparently he thinks maybe I'll go to Damascus and see if I can find him there again.
and from what we know at some point he he discovers shams within he realizes that everything shams
has been showing him is is found within his own deepest essence and uh you know so there's that
and then the other thing i would say besides this the sort of spiritual journey that he goes on with shams
this is also where the poetry comes in and and the music and you know he he wasn't really into that
uh as this kind of sober scholar family man uh but after
spending time with Shams and, you know, the whirling and the poetry kind of just pours forth.
Yeah, fascinating. And I think that speaks to a certain sort of narrative that applies in many
of these religious traditions where you have a sort of awakened or highly realized teacher
that people, you know, huddle around, Jesus, Buddha, in this case, Shams, that being in the
presence of that person is transformative and can open up parts of your being that have a
otherwise been locked down by too much intellectualization or whatever, but then always the teacher
must leave, right? Buddha dies at the age of 80 something. Jesus obviously is pulled away and
crucified. Shams left once because I thought, I think he saw that in Rumi, that, you know,
he needed to let Rumi have his space for development and then was obviously later murdered and
taken away for good. And then the development from that point is the student has to sort of
incorporate the teacher into them, but also they have to radically walk their own path, right? In the
mystical traditions and these spiritual traditions, ultimately, you have teachers play an important
essential role, but you have to walk the path alone. It is uniquely yours. There is as many
paths as there are human beings to walk them, and nobody's ever going to be able to hold your hand
to walk you all the way through. They can introduce you to it, right? They can lead you to water,
but you're the one that has to drink. And I think that that basic narrative structure sort of pops
up again and again in these different tradition. Yeah, I think that's exactly right. Yeah. And then
the other thing I wanted to mention is the, you know, the book going on fire thing and Rumi sort of
from that sober, scholarly, I know a lot intellectual position has this hubristic, you know, dismissal of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the, of the Sufi that came in there.
And then, um, sham's, you know, one ups him on that level. And then you mentioned coons in Buddhism, which are precisely devised to frustrate that intellect, to get beyond the intellectual hubris and the intellectualization of experience to
direct experience. And so, you know, in Zen Buddhism, it could be a meditation master hitting you
with a stick. In this case, it could be the book you're holding going up in flames. But time and
time again, there has, there's a place for the intellect. There's a place for study. But that ultimately
is limiting. And if you just get completely lost in that, you know, you sort of are deeply off the
path that you have to transcend that. That's exactly right. Yeah. That's very much the position of the
Sufi tradition. And, you know, another Sufi that I've spent some time studying Ibn Arby,
he talked about the different faculties of the human, each having a playing field that is kind
of their zone. And so he said, you know, the intellect has its purpose. But, you know, when it
comes to things like God or ultimate reality, I mean, it's just not equipped to deal with that.
And so as you're describing, a koan kind of short circuits the mind and hopefully, you know, shows
the practitioner or allows them to discover something beyond it.
Absolutely. All right, well, let's go ahead and move on to sort of Rumi's transformation
into a mystic proper. A lot of people know Rumi's, specifically and primarily as a poet,
but his poetry wasn't just, you know, about beautiful words. It was born out of profound
mystical experience. And honestly, even engaging with his poetry itself can sort of open up
that stillness and silence within you if you would give yourself over to it. But can you
walk us through how his spirituality evolved and how it was articulated through his poetry,
especially after the disappearance of his teacher shams? Yeah. So, you know, one of the first things
I'll say on this, it's kind of interesting. Rumi was actually quite ambiguous about poetry,
despite being an absolutely phenomenal and prolific poet. He joked quite a bit in his poems about this.
And at one point, he said, writing poetry is like preparing tripe, you know, this dish of
for a guest because you know he likes it, but you think it's kind of gross, but you still
do it because you know that they like, right? So it's kind of like, yeah, he, you know, he was
kind of ambiguous about poetry and expressed it as being kind of gross at times. Or even he would
joke too, like he would, he would say, you know, I've, I've babbled on too much, you know,
in one of his poems and I don't want to offend the beloved by talking too much, you know,
or he would say, I feel ashamed of writing about love when it's a real thing.
that goes so far beyond words, you know, I feel almost an embarrassment or or a shame for
trying to talk about something that goes completely beyond language. So I think there is this
ambiguity around poetry that that's good to keep in mind. And so really what, where that came
from, though, where this poetry comes from, you know, it's this presence of shams and then the
eventual absence. And it, and it kind of awakes in him something that's a bit, I don't know if
unhinged is the word, but a sort of exuberant creativity and ecstasy.
and he felt like almost like
an irresistible need to express
and so I think initially
the poetry was almost spontaneous
and the whirling and the draw to music
I think there was a spontaneity to that
that emerges out of the spiritual ecstasy
and so he talked about even like
he joked when he was with Shams
he said you know to Shams
I would have invited you up to the pulpit
to deliver one of the weekly sermons
But he said, I'm afraid that the pulpit would sprout wings and fly off into infinity, just like my heart does in your presence.
So he had this kind of real profound opening of the heart.
He also described being kind of like impregnated with Shams's glory and having no choice but to give birth to these sort of ecstatic poems of love.
So we can really think of Shams as like a spiritual revolution for Rumi and the poetry is the outcome.
of that you know in sufi philosophy there's this idea that human consciousness is unique in the cosmos
for having a potential to reflect uh god in totality or to reflect all of the names of god or all of the
qualities of the real and one of the names of god in the islamic tradition is al haq which
means the real or truth or reality. And so Sufi has really used that a lot. And I find it
useful when talking to students and other folks about Sufism, especially if you're coming from a
tradition or a background that isn't necessarily comfortable with what we might call God talk,
you know, just talking about the real, talking about what is ultimately real can be valuable.
But so in Sufi philosophy, there's the sense that each human consciousness has this, you
know, they call it this sort of Adamic, you know, this is the archetype of the adamic, or
basically fundamentally human nature, is that it has this potential to reflect all of the
qualities of the real. It can be a mirror for all. But, of course, that mirror has to be
polished. And so Rumi said about Shams, O Shams al-Hak, or O son of reality, if I see in
your clear mirror, anything but God, I am worse than an infidel.
So, you know, seeing in Shams this reality, this vast, vast cosmic reality of wisdom and love, again, was something like a revolution.
And so he, really the poetry, the music, the dance, you know, all of this is, again, kind of the outcome of that ecstatic and transformative encounter.
Yeah, and I think that does speak to something about the mystical path, whatever you want to call it.
You know, I just did an episode on the philosophy of Baruch Spinoza.
Oh, cool.
Yeah, he's famous for the line, you know, nature or God.
And we discussed in that episode, if he was being tongue in cheek, if he was hiding his naturalism under the facade of sort of the dominant religious talk of the time.
And we can get into that debate.
But I think that synonymous sort of combining of those two things is really helpful because you can really talk about it different ways.
like the Christian mystics, the Sufis, the Jewish mystics in Kabbalah, and even Hindus talk about it often
in terms of God. But whether we're talking about Spinoza or certain strains of Buddhism or Taoism,
they gear much more in the direction of talking about it as a sort of force of nature. And I don't think
it really matters, right? This is the way that we're trying to capture the ineffable through language
using the historical and cultural context of our time. You know, Jesus, I think Jesus probably
saw the reality of non-duality and spoke about it in terms that the people in his life and his
cultural tradition could make sense of. And it came out as, you know, the words of Jesus, the New
Testament, etc. But I have no problem talking about it in either way. But for some people with
certain, you know, for reasons in their own personal development, they're not comfortable with,
as you say, the God talk. We can talk about it in natural terms. But whatever it is, it seems
to be that when you, through these practices of honestly, whatever your practice is, it's always
something to do with attention, right? It's always something to do with concentration of your
attention on something, a mantra, your breath, even in the whirling dervishes context of just the
movement itself, the bodily movement, you know, there's Tai Chi and Taoism of the movement
of the body, whatever you're doing. In Christianity, it's on prayer, right? So, you know,
It's just, and it can be a different thing, but it's an object of deep concentration of your meditation.
And that is the thing that I think opens up the door to these experiences.
And then what happens is you kind of get out of your own way, you kind of see through the illusion of egoic control,
and something unfolds or blossoms through you.
It's almost like a natural force that sort of emerges through you.
And in that way, these new dimensions, this new depth.
is opened up, even if you're hesitant to it. So Rumi's sort of hesitant to this poetry spilling
out of his heart. But he's not in control, right? Something else is acting through him. And in that
tradition, it's obviously God and God's love. In a different tradition, it may be talked about
in terms of natural forces or a blossoming or, you know, an intelligence that nature has
operating through you. But I think in the end, it amounts to pretty much the same thing. And it's
just a matter of preference regarding what sort of language you want to use around it. Does that
sound right to you? Yeah, and it brings to mind both the Sufi principle and a story that Rumi told
that's really beautiful. And so one of the foundational aspects of the Sufi perspective is the
distinction between meaning and form. You could also say the distinction between appearance and
reality. And so the idea is that, and really what Sufis point to is that sometimes reality
and appearance can be quite distinct. Things are not always as they appear.
But also that words and forms, when you trace back the meaning, you can actually often find, you know, people can find this in friendships or relationships sometimes, right?
You're arguing, but you're both saying the same thing in a different way, right?
Rumi's got this great story that I think illustrates this precisely what you're describing.
And it's a story about four guys who go to a market.
And they're in the market.
And one of them's Turkish, one of them's Greek.
one of them's Arab and one of them's Persian and so they say well let's pull our money together
and then we can buy something in bulk and get a lot of something right so so the Turk says let's get
this and he says a Turkish word and the Greek guy goes whoa no no no if we're going to pull our money
I say we get and he says a Greek word and so on and so forth they all pitch their word and they
start fighting and somebody who knows all four languages approaches them and says give me your money
I'll come back and satisfy all of you,
which sounds like potentially a sketchy deal,
but they do,
they hand over the money,
and he comes back with a big basket of grapes.
And the Turk goes,
that's what I was talking about.
And the Greek guy goes,
that's what I was trying to say.
And the Persian and the Arab all go,
that's what I was saying.
And so to me,
it's a beautiful story about,
you know,
as we're describing,
I think it doesn't necessarily matter.
I mean, you know,
words have histories and,
and tradition and I value that
but when you encounter the thing
whether that's Buddha nature
whether that's Allah whether that's
Christ you know go down the list of our
traditions we have language
but when you encounter the reality everybody goes
that's what I'm talking about you know
when you encounter real wisdom and
transformative love everybody goes
that's that's it and so I think
it's a nice story that that highlights that
we might say distinction between
form and meaning
absolutely yeah I really love your ability to bring in an
anecdote um to explain the the the sort of highfalutin idea that is being discussed that's really that's
really grounding and really amusing as well you know the the the disagreement resulting in we're just
using different words for the same thing and that really is spot on to what what i was trying to
say so thank you for that um now let's move forward we've talked about we talked about love and
clearly you know for people that are skeptical of this or you know don't really engage in it or
you know much have a much more scientific or materialist or even reduction
perspective on ontology in the cosmos, when we start talking about love, eyes start rolling, right?
It sounds cheesy. It sounds like, you know, third grade poetry, you know, something an angsty teen
would be writing into the folds of their notebook during class. But we mean something deeper,
something more, something that really is foundational. And when you touch it, even if it's only
for a moment, it's clarifying, right? It's not, it doesn't mystify. It demystifies. There's something
true that is just felt viscerally in your bones about it. That is not merely, you know, your
brain chemicals have shifted in such a way that you're just having the illusion of this.
It feels realer than real, realer than normal life. And so I at least want people who are maybe
skeptical of this love talk to just open up your mind a little bit and just set aside your
skepticism just a tad and try to wrestle with what's going on here because there's a reason
this comes up in every single religious tradition ever through space and time.
and culture. There's a reason that comes up and is foundational and central. So one of the most
striking things about Rumi's work is his emphasis on love, not just romantic love, of course, but love
is a force that shatters the ego and draws one toward the divine. So how did this understanding
of love differ from conventional religious teachings at the time? Yeah, and this was one of the
things that got Sufis into a bit of trouble historically. You know, the monotheistic tradition
certainly some of the more outward-facing expressions of them
tend to want God to stay up in the sky, so to speak.
I'm speaking a bit facetiously,
but there's the sense of, you know,
God is the transcendent Lord,
and you obey and you worship from afar.
And certainly some expressions of Islamic theology
fall more towards that.
Now, what's fascinating is the Sufi tradition
has always emphasized the simultaneous total transcendence
an unknowability of God with the utter intimacy and closeness of God in ourselves in the world.
And really, they draw this from the Quran, which has a very beautiful way of indicating that there is
nothing like God, that you cannot know God, but that God is closer to you than your jugular vein,
it says. Or it says everywhere you turn, every direction, all you see is the face of God.
So you've got in the Quran itself. Also, the Quran has two names for God. Very, very interesting.
one is Zahir, which means the visible, the obvious, the manifest, and botan, which means the totally hidden and unknowable.
So God is both totally obvious and absolutely unknowable.
And of course paradoxes is the waters that mystics swim in because, well, it appears that reality is something quite paradoxical at heart, at least according to the mind, right?
At least when the mind tries to grasp it.
So this is something that Sufi is emphasizing, both the transcendence and the imminence or the closeness of God, they were comfortable speaking of God, sure, as a sort of essence or Lord or something transcendent or beyond or unknown, but also as the beloved, also as, and especially with experience, once they would say you get a taste, and this is a really important word in the Sufi tradition, the Velk, which means.
taste. And so Sufis have always emphasized that, you know, you want to taste these realities
for yourself. And when you do, you know, it's just so beyond the, the, what we see in our
world every day, you know, I mean, really this world is that. It's the traces of that. But when
you get to really the source, it just is, it goes so beyond that. Almost like love is a natural
outcome, you know, ecstasy is a natural outcome of, of encountering, you know, the, the one true
source of all beauty and goodness and love and also discovering that it's infinite, you know,
love is a very natural response. So Sufis have always said, you know, don't waste your life,
you know, reading maps but not doing any hiking. You know, don't waste your life just reading
menus, but not eating any food. You know, and they, I think, would look at some of the religious
scholars as folks who are doing this, you know, they're just looking at the menu. They're studying
the menu for their entire life. And they're like, but you're not tasting, you know, and what
Once you taste, then you get, you understand what is meant by this love.
And really, one of the words they use, and this also scandalized, a lot of theologians, is Ishq.
So there are different words in Arabic for love.
Hob is one, which means, that's probably the most general meaning of love.
But Ishq is like also kind of means like passionate desire.
And so Sufis would say when you encounter the essence of reality, it is so incredibly beautiful that
it is like absolutely falling head over heels and love and just like the uh with a passion a radical
passion um that you described i think correctly you know is totally transformative um but also really hard
to put into words i mean rumy he's got this great line in his nasnavi in one of his you know famous works
he talks about the impossibility of ever speaking to it he says would you try to count the drops in the
sea. Before the ocean of love, the seven seas are nothing. Right. So it's even just thinking of
the physical world, the vastness of it. And he's saying next to love, it's, it almost becomes
nothing. So yeah, I mean, Sufism is considered a way of love and a path of love. And it's actually
at times been called the Medhabi ishq. Medhhab means generally that was like a legal school or
a school of religious methodology.
So they were like, yeah, our methodology is Ishk, is passionate love.
And it's actually seen as something much more than just, of course, a feeling, or it's seen as being really foundational to the cosmos.
There's a saying of the Prophet Muhammad's that says that God was like a hidden treasure that longed or loved to be discovered.
and that this is this initial longing or love of the one to be known by and through the many
that is is the impetus for the manifest universe so in one sense love is is the substrate we
could say of the cosmos umi writes in another one of his works the creatures are set in motion
by love love from eternity without beginning the wind dances because of the movement of love
in the heavenly spheres and the trees dance because of the wind.
So this sense of this sort of essence and then we might say manifesting through the different
levels of reality.
So yeah, you know, love is also seen as, and I've thought of this too when it comes to discipline.
You know, discipline is always seen as importance on a mystical or spiritual path.
And for Sufis, they say that's because the self, the ego has a kind of gravitational pull on us.
and it sort of is constantly wanting to pull us
into dispersion and distraction
and forgetfulness of our essence
and Rumi actually says, you know,
to forget what you're here for,
it's like a king has sent you to a foreign country
to accomplish a task.
And he says, you go there and you do everything but the task.
You know, it's like we get so lost at all of these dispersions.
It's like discipline is seen as necessary
to constantly reorient the mind and heart
towards essence and source and
what is real. Now, when I think
of this in terms of love, you know, sometimes
and certainly in the West, maybe we get
some kind of, I don't know, Puritan,
Protestant kind of vibes that
can be, like, you know, discipline is like
digging in a hot, you know,
digging in a ditch on a hot day.
And, you know, there's even this kind of
self-flagellation at times that, you know, I must
be disciplined and all of this sort of stuff
that can happen, especially, you could say in a sort
of like capitalist society.
So, you know, and I, and I,
And I think what's how I understand love, too, is, is that it actually brings sweetness to discipline.
You know, then discipline isn't like that.
Discipline, you know, if you have love, then you, I mean, I think of this even with work.
Like, I feel very blessed to be able to work as a professor, and I really love the work.
So I often don't feel like I do work, even though I'm busy doing a bunch of stuff.
I'm reading and I'm writing and I'm talking and I'm teaching.
And but oftentimes because I love it, you know, so to me, that's like a health.
healthy way of relating to discipline. I think love is essential for discipline to be healthy. And
certainly on the Sufi path, it's seen as being something that, as you said, allows you to really
go beyond the ego and kind of break out of that self-reference. Absolutely. Yeah. Incredibly well
said. And I always talk about the importance of, you know, speaking of like discipline, the importance
of, you know, cultivating attention in an era of mass distraction where we have, like I always call
you know, these dopamine casinos in our pockets.
We're surrounded by screens.
We can constantly escape boredom,
escape any negative emotion, even subconsciously,
by diving into distraction.
And so there's something so increasingly sacred
about cultivating and protecting your attention in these ways.
And, you know, you mentioned something about capitalist society,
and we don't need to go off into that right now,
but clearly that's a big strain in what I'm trying to do
because what I am trying to do,
and my overarching goal with this show,
is to say,
I truly believe, agree with me or not, revolutionary transformation of the social, economic,
and political realm is absolutely necessary. This system, as it currently is constructed, capitalism,
imperialism is bringing our species to the brink of self-destruction. It is increasingly not being
able to provide for the majority of people. It's rooted in exploitation. And those are all things,
I think, that come out of a sort of egoism, right? And if we really want to transform the outside
objective world, we also have to take radical responsibility for transforming our inner worlds
to at least get some space between ourselves and our ego, to be able to stand back from it
and see it. Because if we try to create a new world with that same old entrenched ego identification
as the main psychological orientation to the world, we're going to replicate disaster. We're going to
replicate exploitation in one way or another. We're not going to be able to reach our fundamental
goals and there's a there's a big strain within marxism that is very dismissive of that of that idea that
that that inner transformation has any place to play here that you know that talking in these terms is
helpful whatsoever there's a lot of i've been met with a lot of dismissiveness on this front but still
i persist because i truly believe that if we want to build a better world it's not just an outward
transformation it's an outward and an inward transformation and i think that actually is much more
aligned with dialectics than seeing things only one dimensionally. But perhaps that's a discussion
for another day. What I wanted to emphasize with what you're saying is that I think love is the
natural result of dissolving the duality between self and other, of the subject-object duality.
You know, love is actually what occurs when you stop seeing yourself as an isolated ego inside of a bag of
skin looking out at a world that is not you once that subject object duality is seen through even
momentarily it's it what is what what fills that space is love because it is all you or it's not you
right and i think that's the we were talking about what paradox right and and and this idea of
of both having intimate knowledge of god and being um you know it's unknowability being
separated from it at the same time. It only sounds paradoxical to the conceptual logical mind.
Once you transcend the conceptual logical mind and get into direct experience, that seeming
contradiction is dissolved and sort of destroyed in that moment. And so I think that the mainstream
institutional hierarchical religions, all the religions have that form. And all those religions also
have this underbelly of mysticism, like, you know, Kabbalah, Christian mysticism.
Sufism. Even Buddhism can be reified into this hierarchical. There's gods, this belief system-oriented
way of being. And then there's the Buddhism of practice, of true enlightenment, of the path
that the Buddha himself walked. And what the institutionalized mainstream and hierarchical
forms of religion do is what the human mind does, which is falls into the illusion of duality
and separation. That we're fundamentally different not only from one another, but from God. And
you know, we're here to sort of perform for a being that is judging us, etc.
And that can obviously create a lot of psychological suffering.
It can offer psychological comfort.
It can do different things.
But that fundamental duality, that fundamental sense of separation is the thing that is ultimately overcome through all these traditions.
And love is what's left, right?
And one thing, you know, just to help your case of why inner transformation is so necessary, you know, I think of precisely along the lines of what you're saying.
in the Sufi tradition, there's a sense that this self, this lower self, and they can call it the
nefs, it actually called the commanding self, that, you know, it's sort of the, the tail that wags
the dog. It's, it's, you know, something that eventually if you learn to master, it can be a
wonderful vehicle, but we often find it mastering us. And this is the desires and, of course,
the sense of separation and hence then the fear and the need for accumulation and all these
things that come with that. But the point that the Sufis make is that that lower
self has a remarkable power to co-opt, to co-opt things. So if you give it any beautiful
teaching, any ideal, it can, if you're operating at that level and you haven't transformed
or gone beyond it, it will co-opt whatever you throw at it. And so if you give it religion,
you get like the self-righteous fundamentalism, you know, you get egoic religion, right? Or maybe
you get some kind of flaky new age way of getting out of being a responsible person or something.
like all these different ways that we can co-opt things for our own often narcissistic ends,
you know, that's seen as being a perpetual problem unless you are able to go beyond.
So they would look at different, you know, politics and religion and different forms and go,
well, what are the level that people are operating at?
Because you could give them the best system, but they could turn it into a nightmare if they're
all operating at this lower level.
So just to be, you know, to kind of put another point on that, you know, I think that's one
of the reasons why inner transformation is necessary is the ego, it really has a profound power to
co-op things. Absolutely. Yeah. And just touching on the Ken Wilbur consciousness evolution scale,
I think it's fascinating. I think people should check it out. I think it's very interesting. There's
elements of it that you can disagree with or criticize, of course. But I think it is very interesting
because it's basically this attempt to try to understand how consciousness evolves, you know,
and then how we as individuals participate in different levels of consciousness.
And there's like the sort of, I think he calls it the rational achiever level of consciousness
where that is where capitalism comes online, right?
And then there's this postmodern consciousness just above that,
which is like progressive, sometimes morally relativist,
deconstructing of old hierarchies and ways of being.
And then there's a step above that, which is just emerging now throughout around the world,
which is like what he calls integral, and then there's stages above that.
But one way that I think about it is my relationship to Christianity and Christ,
as I've sort of stumbled my way through these steps.
And what it starts off is sort of, you know, a traditional dogma.
I believe in Jesus Christ.
I believe in heaven and hell.
You know, I converted to Catholicism when I was 13.
I was a weird kid.
And then, you know, I evolved.
I kept growing a little bit.
And then I went into my new atheist phase.
And now Christianity and Jesus is something to just be rationally deconstructed, to show how it doesn't make sense.
It's logically incoherent.
People who believe in this stuff are silly, stupid, right?
That's the rational achiever level, the scientific mind.
And then you evolve to the next level, which is this postmodern, where Jesus now is turned into a useful but kind of shallow, hippie Jesus, right?
He's just the Jesus that walks around in sandals, and he had some really important things to say, and we should listen to him.
and that's why they killed him.
Yeah, he's not actually God and all that stuff is bullshit,
but, you know, he was an important spiritual teacher.
And then you go a level up into the integral situation,
and you realize, you start to understand Christ consciousness,
that Christ touched on the truth of non-duality like the Buddha did,
like Rumi did, like so many of these figures throughout history
and all these different religions did.
And he was articulating in the confines of the language and culture of his time,
that experience. He says stuff like, you know, love your neighbor as yourself. I am one with God. The kingdom of heaven is within you. And these things sound sort of mystical and religious and people can either interact with that from the level of ego, from the level of separation. Oh, Jesus is somebody to be worshipped. He is God on earth literally. And, you know, this is my belief system, etc. But then when you get up to the higher stages of your relationship with Jesus, you kind of start to see he's articulating a view.
point that is accessible to all of us. The kingdom of heaven truly is within us. And it's just a
matter of going, you know, in that direction and seeing it or framing it in that way. And then after
you understand that intellectually, the next stage is to embody that viscerally. And I'm not, I'm not
there yet by any means. But I've always kind of been amused that how my relationship with Christianity
and with Jesus Christ mirrors something real in what Ken Wilbur laid out there. And I'm
wondering if you have thoughts on any of that. Yeah. Yeah. I mean, I've, I've enjoyed Ken Wilbur's books,
and I like how you put it. And I mean, I think really this is something I try to help students get is,
you know, to not, if you're, it's like food, you know, chew it before swallowing it or spitting it out if you
think it's gross. You know, but so often we have this instinct to either accept or reject.
We ask ourselves, do I accept that or do I reject that? But allowing oneself a space to chew on something,
and to get a feel for it, I think is really, really important.
And so I like how you put it with Ken Wilbur's philosophy, like any, like any, you know, pick up any book, look at any system of thought.
And, you know, to just see that there might be things that you really resonate and connect with and others that maybe you don't.
I just think that's generally a good way to approach things.
But yeah, I've also liked his, that kind of color scheme he has, right, of like, you know, the kind of red is almost like the tribal, the gang, the family.
my group versus other groups and then you kind of developing consciousness through these different
levels. And I think it's a useful way to look at political tendencies and movements. And so, yeah,
I've enjoyed that. And also just like this idea of an integral consciousness that that integrates
the various aspects of life and reality. And that's something that I think in the Sufi tradition,
I've found that as well that, you know, Sufis really looked to the Prophet Muhammad as kind of an archetype of an integral
spirituality. You know, somebody who was often spending his nights in prayer and meditation
was doing a lot of what we might think of as like spiritual things, but also fully,
fully integrated into the world. You know, he had a family. He had close friends. That was one of
the things actually that was most reported about him. He was always surrounded by friends. So he
lived communally. He was, it was a social activist, no doubt. I mean, worked really hard to transform
the economy and the ways that people were functioning socially, but at the same time
had this very, very committed, devout spiritual life. And so Sufis have really seen that
as an archetype of this integral spirituality. And the way I wrote about it in my book,
dissolving into being, was something like being both at the, you're having your heart or
your inner on the peak of a mountain where it's totally silent. It's, it's onus, it's
aloneness, and then also having your body and mind and everything at the base of the
mountain where all the activity is. So simultaneously kind of integrating the base and the peak
and living that way. And that's really been a Sufi ideal to be, you know, present with God,
to be present with love, to be present with reality in your inward self, but outwardly to be
functioning with family and friends and community and be contributing to, you know, projects of
making things as good as we can.
So, yeah, that's something that comes to mind.
It's crucial, yeah.
In Buddhism, it's framed as, you know, the mystic that goes off and lives in a cave
and meditates intensely and has these experiences and, you know, sees through ego illusion
and, you know, is one with God or whatever, and then comes down from the mountain and comes
back into society, has to deal with their difficult family, the traffic whizzing by, an
asshole in the market, and all of a sudden, all your wisdom evaporates.
And so that's the importance of integration, yeah.
Yeah, well, that's where the rubber hits the road, right?
I mean, and there is, I think, in a way, the world is a wonderful test, right?
I mean, you know, I've heard it put actually by a Buddhist teacher on the Guru Viking podcast, Nak Cheng Rinpoche.
He had a nice way up saying, you know, if you want to know if spiritual practice is taking hold, you know, just look at yourself and see if you're getting triggered by people to anger.
If you're a reactionary, if you're finding yourself, you know, launching into an angry word in response to something that somebody says that annoys you, you still got some work to do.
And that the less that happens, the less you are easily, you know, struck by things to leading to anger responses, things like that, the less that that's happening, there's your, there's your evidence of some development.
So I think, yeah, you know, the world is peerless in that sense.
it'll really let you know pretty quickly where you're out.
Yeah, and it has to be sincere.
There's a way of spiritual bypassing where these people, you know, kind of get into this mindset,
get into a community, and then they try to affect not being disturbed by things, right?
Put on this affect, and that's a form of spiritual bypassing.
It has to be sincere.
If you're angry, totally be aware of that and accept that.
You got triggered.
You got reactionary in this moment, and you can't shy away from that or repress that
because then it comes out in much uglier ways.
Precisely, yeah.
Well, this talk of separation leads very well into the next question because we're getting into the themes and the teachings of Rumi.
And one of his most famous metaphors is the idea of a reed flute, the idea of being separated from source and this longing to return.
What's the deeper meaning behind that?
What is a reed flute for those that might not know?
And how does it reflect this broader spiritual philosophy that Rumi is developing and putting into poetry and words, as it were?
Yeah, well, the nay, the reed flute, it means an incredibly beautiful.
instrument. I mean, man, you listen to some of that music. It is just so like instantly takes you
somewhere. Somehow it just, I don't know, it's almost like a trace of vastness comes through. And
there's a lot of tradition around it in Islamic Sufi cultures. Some people feel like, you know,
the flute has to choose you if you're going to play it. And there's also the sense of being
able to hit a note properly in that sometimes, you know, that can take years and sometimes it's
almost like the flute gives it to you.
So there's a lot of cool,
kind of mystical stuff around the flute.
But yeah,
what Rumi is really pointing to there,
and this is one of the things
that's so incredible about Rumi is,
you know,
the way I thought about it was,
it was taking some of the most profound philosophy,
cosmology,
ontology,
and expressing it in like rhyme,
beautiful rhyme,
folk tale jokes.
It,
to me,
it would be like,
Einstein like wrapping out his entire theory of you know physics and and somehow putting that into
a rap that then is also making jokes and talking about pop culture and so to kind of really join
heaven and earth like that is phenomenal and and rare and so yeah that's really one of the cool
things about about rumies he really expresses these complex rich vast ideas in very uh really
encapsulates them in these these cool little stories so with with
the reed flute. You know, what he's talking about there is this, this flute, you hear its mournful
longing for the bed, the reed bed from which it's come. And so we're kind of, again,
dealing with this idea of separation and unity. So maybe what I can do to help your listeners
appreciate Sufi philosophies talk a bit about maybe the background of what Rumi is referring
to there. And you can kind of see how he's really capturing it in this short little story or
metaphor. So the Sufi philosophical worldview, and really it goes back to the Quran, and
interestingly, it goes back to the Islamic creed. But as the Sufis always do, they see things
having a surface meaning and a deeper meaning. And so the core Islamic belief, or it's called
the shahada, the statement of faith, is laelah, which means there is no God but God. And sure,
if somebody's a monotheist, they go, yes, there's only one God. And that, you, you, you
could say is a surface meaning, and Sufis say, yes, that's fine to understand it that way.
But they say if you go down the rabbit hole of what that means, God's name is also Al-Hak, or the real.
So what they're also saying is there's no real but one real.
There is only the real.
There is only one being.
La ilaha illah, allah, there is only God.
Now that can sound a bit strange.
People look around and go, well, it seems as though they're actually.
a lot of beings and things, like billions upon billions of them.
And so this sounds a bit strange to say there is only one reality.
Sufis say, well, you're right.
There certainly appears to be many things.
But the deeper meaning of la ilaha illa la is that multiplicity or the world only exists
in appearance, right?
So if we think of the meaning of appearance, it has essentially two meanings.
First is short-term presence, right?
If you go to a party, but maybe you're an introvert, you kind of
suffer through some small talk, but you make an appearance and then you bounce, right? So this idea
of only being somewhere for a short period of time, which they say, that's the world in us.
Although it seems like we're here for a long time while we're here, if you wait long enough,
every appearance is disappearing. Everything is going away. And the Quran actually says everything is
in a state of disappearance or annihilation except for the face of God. So everything only shows up.
everything makes an appearance and eventually totally goes away and eventually there will be no trace
of any of us or anything just it might take a while but it'll get there the second meaning of
appearance is that something seems to be there but not really and an example that Sufis have given
is like you know if you take like a stick let's say you're a campfire and you light that stick
and you start spinning it around really quickly you can see a circle right the burning
stick, if spun fast enough, you do see the circle. Like, the circle is there in appearance,
but you also know not really. So Sufis say that our world is appearance in both meanings of
just popping in for a bit. And then also this campfire sky circle thing. The world appears to
exist, but it does not have a substantial reality of its own. So this is basically a very
simple statement of fact, you could say. And the Buddhist tradition.
also is very good, I think, at articulating the inherently passing nature, the transient
nature of all things, and the interdependent nature, meaning things don't have some kind of
absolute independent existence. So this can, you know, it's, I think, a very simple statement
of fact, but it can feel like, well, wait, okay, so then what's truly real? You know, what really
is real? And this is where we get to the reed flute lamenting its separation from the reed bed.
it's longing for something real it's longing for the essence and when we do encounter real stuff
which we all know in our life real presence real connection with somebody even authenticity
in our own selves and we're being true to ourselves when we have a genuine communion with another
soul if we encounter beautiful art and music anytime we encounter something real we want it and we
long for it because it's better than anything else and suffice would say the real is in essence
totally good true insanely beautiful and so the the reed bed is longing for this reel which it comes
from into the world of appearance which can never really satisfy it but Sufis say these appearances
are nothing but traces of the real and so partly the quest is to follow those traces back
within your own self in the world to the source to the essence of everything and that's the
second part of la-ilaha-el-la. So, you know, there is no reality but the real. And so there is
something real and it's something vast and it's something beautiful and it's something good. And
so our hearts naturally long for this source that that we come from. And I think that's that's
partly what he's encapsulating there. You know, I mean, here's something I can share as well.
Rumi writes in one of his poetic works. He says, the other world keeps coming into this one.
Like cream hidden in the soul of milk,
no place keeps coming into place.
Like intellect concealed in blood and skin,
the traceless keeps leaving traces.
And from beyond the intellect,
beautiful love comes dragging its skirts,
a cup of wine in hand.
And from beyond love,
that indescribable one,
who can only be called that keeps coming.
Wow. Yeah. So gorgeous, so profound. I mean, this is why I love Sufism and have such a deep respect for it and you really are fleshing this out and making it, making it hit home in profound ways. It's a gorgeous tradition, aesthetically, artistically, philosophically, and that longing for wholeness is the common human condition, right? There is this sense, you know, in psychoanalysis. They put it in terms of lack of this sense of not being quite.
full and then this endless search to fill that hole within ourselves through experience or external
things or money or relationships or status and it's just an endless search and this is in some
Buddhist context samsara the cycle of suffering this repeated attempt to try to go out and fill
that that hole through these artificial means and what is capitalism if not this this constant
urge and desire for consumption as the main mode of attempting to do that and then we have a society
of alienation of depression of addiction and we wonder why we are fools in the cycle of samsaurus
searching for something that can never satisfy us and the only thing that can satisfy us really is
this union with the oneness and all these mystical traditions in their own beautiful and gorgeous
way return here again and again and again and so if that's
That resonates with you, dear listener. If you feel like that, you've always been searching, you're never quite satisfied. The search to try to satisfy just leads to more disappointment. Even when you get something that you desire, it never lives up to what you thought it would. And then it's just immediately replaced by another desire. The answer from Rumi, from Buddha, from all these figures, is to give up the search, to go inward. You are never going to find that thing outside of yourself, outside of your own being. It is within your being as the only hope that you have of really
finding it and even if you touch on it once for a millisecond any skepticism is eradicated you know
it's there and then so many of us once we touch it we can't help but but continue to go back to
the well even if i wanted to stop this pursuit if i just you know this meditation thing this
the spiritual suffering it's all just too much i just want to return to a normal life and not have to
worry about the stuff or or wrestle with these things or face my own fears or anything like that
you just can't because you've already opened up the process the pro the flowers bloom
And you can't shut the petals ever again.
And so then there's this sort of surrendering that you have to give up your will.
You have to give up your control to this unfolding process.
And all of that has deep, deep resonance, as you said, and made explicit with Buddhism.
The idea of impermanence, the idea of no abiding self, that there is no substance within anything that is real on its own, but is connected to this idea of dependent origination, that everything is profoundly and deeply interconnected and things only around.
rise when a multitude of conditions take hold for that thing to arise and that thing is always
liminal and ephemeral and always passes away once again and why do we suffer according to buddhism
because we cling to that ephemerality we try to make a permanent self in this constant swirl
of change and to try to do that is to fail which is to suffer and it's only through surrender
and i'm sure all these mystical traditions have versions of surrender within them it's only through
that surrendering that we can ever actually quote unquote solve that problem but by the time you
solve it there's no you and there's no problem left right yeah i think that that's very well said
and you know as you were describing this you know kind of looking without for what is actually
within a couple things i can share from roomy too that just like encapsulated so well yeah so this is
from his methanow he says a basket of bread sits on your head yet you go door to door begging for
crusts.
Leave your deluded knocking.
Look at your own head.
Knock on your heart's door.
You are up to your knees in the stream and yet ignorant of self, so you seek a drink
from this person and that.
Would that you could know yourself for a time?
Would that you would, of your own beautiful face, see a sign?
Then you would not sleep in water and clay.
You would go to the house of every spirit and fly away.
Spot on.
Beautiful.
Absolutely. And yeah, there's people out there that are listening that if that touches you, if that moves you, if that stirs you, if you feel like something being said here is true, even if you can't fully understand it intellectually, that is the sign that you should continue to pursue this.
And the beautiful thing about this is that whatever tradition you come from, you don't need to be alienated from it. If you grew up in Christianity, you grew up in Islam and you don't want to, you know, do this grotesque, reductionist, atheistic, you know, turn away from it all and deconstruction of it.
But you want to actually go into that tradition to find the beautiful kernel of reality within it.
Every tradition, Hinduism, Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, they all have it within them.
And so that's this gorgeous idea of perennialism.
And, you know, we can disagree or debate the nuances of it.
But more or less is that you don't have to run away from your tradition.
You can go deeper into it and find these gems within all of them.
And that's what's beautiful.
And for some people, like, you know, Buddhism will speak to some people and Sufism will speak to other.
and Christian mysticism will speak to others.
Whatever speaks to your heart, that's a path.
And to commit to that path is a beautiful fucking thing.
And I highly encourage people to at least stay open to it.
Yeah, I love that, man.
I love that.
Yeah.
And, you know, it's interesting.
As you were speaking, I was thinking, like, partly what I think life, you know,
if you're interested in this stuff, is about it.
It's kind of like digging for a well.
You become a digger.
And it's interesting, apparently, and I read this somewhere,
and then I searched it out.
found it was true that if you dig anywhere in the earth, you eventually hit water. And to me,
that that's a really nice analogy for the real. I mean, our world are of appearances and
manifestation, all of these traces of the real. But wherever you dig, you'll eventually get there.
So it's, and I think you're right, you don't have to go somewhere else. You know, you have your own
self. You have your own life experiences, your own interests, your own culture, your own religion.
And it's partly the depth. You know, if you dig in, you start digging that well. You know, you
you will eventually hit water. And when you do, you know, you're never the same as you pointed to.
Great analogy, absolutely. So let's go ahead and move on. And we've talked about paradox and
Rumi plays a lot with paradox in his work, ideas of losing oneself to find oneself or dying before
you die, a really deep idea behind that slogan. But how does this all connect to like these
core Sufi concepts like, and I'm sorry if I mispronounce them, but fauna or annihilation of the self
and Baca, subsistence in God.
Yeah, that's right.
And they are really interesting concepts in the Sufi tradition.
So one of the ways to think about this concept of basically the annihilation of the self and Bacca or the subsistence of the self in God.
So if we get back to that basic Sufi worldview that says us in the world is real in appearance only,
another way to say is that there's something kind of dreamlike or illusory about it.
Now, you only really know an illusion when you come to something more real.
So if you think about this, and in the Hindu philosophical tradition, they talk about this as sublation.
So you discover a deeper level of reality and then are able to see the less real nature of what you thought was totally real.
So the great example of this is a dream.
If I'm in the middle of a dream, unless I'm lucid dreaming, I think the dream is real.
I, you know, as it's an experiencing subject, if I've, you know, won the lottery or something, then I feel like.
Like I really have. And then you wake up and you realize, oh, that was just a dream. So you sublake the dream reality by waking reality. Now, interestingly, the saying you pointed to goes back to the prophet Muhammad who said a few different things. One, he said, this life is a dream and when you die, you wake up. So he also said die before you die. And so if you think about that, if this life is something dreamlike in nature, but there is something more real that you can wake up to, dying before you die.
means to awaken to the real before you die, before your actual death.
So we could say that when you do awaken to the real, it's a simultaneous discovery of something
way more real than what you've known, but also the discovery of the relatively illusory nature
of your own self. And Sufis like to say, you can never know God. You know, God can be known,
but there's no you left to know him when this happens. You know, Rumi writes about this in his
Masnawi, he says, no one will find his way to the palace of magnificence until he is
annihilated. He also writes, you are your own shadow, become annihilated in the rays of the
sun. He says, come to the garden of Fana, come to the garden of annihilation, and behold, paradise
after paradise within the spirit of your own Bacca, your own subsistence. So it's this idea of
discovering the illusory nature of your ego, of your separate self, of your identity,
but also discovering the reality of the real, which is infinite and vast and beautiful.
So another way to think about this is if you totally dissolve into the light of the real,
you in a sense become annihilated, you in a sense become nobody.
However, this nobody is now an empty vessel through which the light of the real,
reel can shine unencumbered. So that shining of the light of the real and its qualities of
wisdom and compassion and beauty, now you've become a vessel or a clear window that it can shine
through. So there is something there, and that's the beccaa, and that is the subsistence of
the entity through the reality of God or through the real. But again, when that's happening,
there's no real ego left anymore because the vessel has been emptied of that.
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
So that sparks this idea within me,
and I would love to hear if there's any analogous concept or experience within the Sufi tradition
that I'm unaware of, but certainly within the Christian mystical and the Buddhist tradition,
the two most familiar traditions for me, this exists with this idea of dying before you die.
So basically what you're doing is you're annihilating this false sense of self,
this small self, the ego.
You can call it that.
It's somewhat kind of crude and it's not totally annihilated, right?
It's, as you said earlier, it becomes a tool.
Instead of you being used by it, it's used by you.
When it's conventional, you've got to go around in society.
You know, you have to talk to your banker and fill out paperwork and apply for jobs.
That doesn't go away, right?
You don't just, like, get lost in mystical bliss and just cease to function.
That's right.
But it's no longer the dominant identification that you have.
but in Buddhism and you know in Christian mysticism as this process unfolds as the small
sense of self is being transcended or we can talk about it as being annihilated it starts to freak out
there is there is a real sense of terror that can grip some people and it's referred to perhaps
as the dark night of the soul that that the ego feels its death to be imminent and what is the
but this sort of evolutionary and socially constructed defense mechanism that we adopt as as ways of as a means for survival and it's served us well evolutionarily as as as that function it serves that function and when you begin to transcend it there is this period of time that many people on the path report going through where there is this time of being completely unmoored of being disoriented and sometimes of even being terrified like deeply terrified
terrified because the ego senses its death as imminent and it can't conceive of anything that's left
after it dies. So it experiences it literally as death, that you are dying. And that process
is terrifying to the ego. But what happens is if you push through it and that ego does
dissolve or evaporate or whatever word we want to use for it, that there's life on the other
side that is so much bigger, so much broader, so much all-encompassing than the ego ever was.
And in Buddhism, we'll hear talk like, once you die before you die, you realize there's no death,
right? There's no birth, no death. Concepts like that, that to the intellectual mind and to the
egoic mind are absolutely incomprehensible. But from this higher form of awareness,
it makes total and complete sense. And then the terror of death completely disappears.
And so I'm wondering if there is a dark night of the soul in particular, but if any of that,
if there's analogies in the Sufi tradition to those experiences.
Yeah, I mean, I loved how you said, die before you die and then we don't die.
I mean, this is really interesting because, so my PhD supervisor, Professor Mina Sharifi
Funk, at, she's in Waterloo, Ontario, and then that's where I did my PhD.
And she was studying with a Sufi teacher in Damascus, Syria, and was doing a master's in Arabic
literature there. And this, this professor Asada Lee is his name, well-known professor, a teacher,
but also Sufi master and poet, really profound poet. And so she was studying with him. And at the
beginning of her time with him, he said, you know, what is your, what is your question? Your
fundamental question. Why are you here? And she said, I want to learn how to die before I die.
And so she waited for a response and weeks went by attending classes and weeks go by.
And finally there's a bit of a student gathering after class.
And he walked up to her and said, we don't die.
Goodbye.
Walked away.
So that made me think of that, you know.
And I think there is.
Yeah, it's, I'm also thinking of like Ram Dass, an American Hindu teacher, formerly, Richard Alpert, a psychology professor, really wonderful.
dude who's written some some great stuff but he talked about um the fact that like our consciousness
is almost like these different channels and so you've got like the channel of the body you've got
the channel of the mind uh and he's talking about them like television channels and he said you know
those are what shut off when you die and he said and if you haven't encountered the channel of the
soul you know these these other channels that are available to consciousness it's going to be
terrifying because it's going to appear like total annihilation and from the perspective
of the body and the mind. That is precisely what is happening. But if you are able to tune in to the
level of, we might say, the soul or one's deeper reality, you can really watch the whole process
unfold with a lot more equanimity because you are seeing something or you are now in touch
with something that does not die. Absolutely. And it's not just a mental process. It's a physiological
process. There are energetics in the body that sort of gets stirred up and that are kind of
unleashed when this filtering cap of the ego is removed or blown off, as it were. And people
experience this process very differently. There's sudden awakenings. There's very gradual
awakenings where it's not so much fireworks and extreme terror, right? I think some people can even
get in over their heads so that the most often sort of cited experience in Buddhism is like
somebody who has, you know, been meditating for 15 minutes a day for a year or two. And then
they decide, it's time for a retreat. And they go on like an intensive 10 day or, you know,
three week or heaven forbid one month retreat where you're meditating 16 18 hours a day and that's just
they're just in the deep end too quickly and so this whole process that for somebody else could take
years to play out in a gradual way is sort of condensed into a really roller coaster exhilarating but
terrifying ride and it can honestly sometimes you know be too much for people and and overwhelm them but
one thing that i've noticed in my experience and that seems to be true of this process but maybe not
for everybody because these these experiences are so unique to the individual is that as i've gotten
deeper and deeper in my practice over many many many years i've had to go deeper and deeper into
my core fears um my my core traumas in buddhism this is talked about as burning off karma right
um and and and i've had to this is this is not a path of lollipops and rainbows it's not
easy it's going it's going to make you face every terror every repressed thing and
some sense, and talking about it in psychoanalytic terms, you're going through your subconscious
and you're making it conscious. And that process, what is the subconscious? But instincts and repressed
emotions and hidden traumas. And if you want to develop to the full being, you have to walk through
that hell and you're going to have to face. These things are going to be bubbling up within you.
And that takes a lot of like courage and resilience to walk through. It's not for the feign of heart.
And so I never want to give the impression that it's all bliss and good.
feelings. It is the most challenging thing you'll ever do, and it results in the, you know,
the death before you die sort of process. And that's not just a metaphor. That's the real
visceral feeling that one experiences when they really go down this road. So I think that should also
be, you know, noted if anybody's interested in diving into this. Yeah. And I'll say just something
about what Rumi says on this and then maybe say something too about the Sufi path more generally.
but, you know, he describes God in all of this beautiful language as the beloved,
but he also says the beloved is a blood drinker, a slayer who slaughters those whom he loves.
He described God like a surgeon operating on you without anesthetic.
Right?
So he's the most dangerous friend.
He's irresistible, but he's incredibly dangerous because, you know, and he says love, you know,
is full of, you know, it's not just the rose, it's the thorns.
It's full of a lot of suffering and trial.
And I think when we look at something like the Sufi path, what's interesting, and I think you're pointing to this as well, in these traditional systems, there's always a sense of wanting to, and this is partly what tradition is for, is to kind of build a container that helps you navigate difficult or extreme or weird experiences.
And so, you know, in Rumi's, the Sufi order that would eventually form called the Mevli Sufi Sufi order, you know, they really,
There's a lot of emphasis on community, on art, on shared learning, but also in service.
And so there is a thousand days where the new dervish in the order is assigned to basically do cleaning and food prep in the Sufi lodge.
So they are cleaning bathrooms.
They are changing sheets on beds.
They're probably like a line cook.
And they do that for a thousand days before they start getting into the spiritual.
practice. And really what that is partly meant to do is, one, help get over yourself, get
an orientation of service and of being used to others and consideration and awareness of
others. It embeds you within a community so that when you do start engaging spiritual practice
and you are maybe having whether blissful experiences or negative experiences, you're not going to
get too attached to those or interpret them in an egoic way, but you can really kind of integrate
those a little bit easier. So I think it's an important point that any kind of self-development,
self-exploration, you will face experiences of darkness or instability. And yeah,
mental health can be an issue, you know, if you're not careful. And this is, I think,
partly why these traditions have developed of, you know, communal practice or working with a teacher,
you know, even in a certain Sufi masters who are seen as being very advanced, can actually
hide a student's own realization from them, from their own self.
They somehow find a way to allow the student to progress,
but they kind of hide where they're really at
until they can see that they're ready to integrate
some of those experiences.
And so, yeah, that makes me think of, you know,
negotiating the challenges of the path.
That's partly what these traditions and communities are for.
And another way to put it is, you need to be grounded.
You know, people, there's real value in developing,
like a healthy grounded sense of place in the world with good relationships as best you can
with whether it's family or friends or you know you need that because yeah some of these
experiences can be pretty far out or disturbing and you know you want to be able to integrate
them as you go on absolutely and i live in nebraska there's not a lot of of those communities
and teachers and for and i was sort of naive and even perhaps arrogant in the early days and i kind
alone wolfed it in a lot of ways. And I suffered dearly for that. And to be in the midst of
that form of suffering and not to have a teacher or a community or even a real tradition to be
embedded in and held within. It can make those difficult parts all the more difficult and
disorienting. So yeah, highly encourage people who set out on these paths. Yeah, embed yourself in
those traditions. Don't make the mistake of cherry picking from all these different traditions or to
make it seem like you can do it all by yourself.
Every tradition emphasizes community and teachers and a single path for a reason.
We can learn from other paths.
I love engaging with Sufism and Hinduism and these other paths and learning from them
and integrating what I can from them.
But at the end of the day, I like sticking to my path of Zen Buddhism as the main orientation
that I personally take because I think there is also a danger in trying to walk too many
paths or pull from different things or the perennial mistake of turning away from any tradition
whatsoever and thinking you can kind of go it alone. I think there's lots of dangers on
those paths. Well, there's a nice Sufi story about this and it basically says something like
we're like exiled on this island and the spiritual teachings are like boatmaking. And so
there are people who've preserved the knowledge of boat making and you build a boat, you get in
the boat and then you go to the other shore where you come from. Now,
at times people think, oh, this boat making is superstitious and there's no need to leave
the island and that kind of thing.
And you can think of these sort of anti-spiritual approaches, whatever you want to call them.
But at the same time, if you think about it, you could try swimming to the other shore.
But I don't know.
Yeah, I don't know if I'd recommend it.
I might sort of see if you can get in a boat, you know.
So I think that's one way to look at these traditions and what the issues around a do-it-yourself
approach might be.
Yeah, that's great.
That's great.
And then the last thing I just want to say, before we move on really quick,
as you mentioned, service, you know, some people call it the path of devotion, this outward
focused. I am humbling myself. I'm not pursuing my individual pursuits. I'm serving others.
I'm a parent of three kids, so whether I like it or not, that's foisted upon me. But in the
Marxist tradition, we talk about serving the people, right? Of subordinating your individual
careerist ambitions or, you know, in certain terms, egoic self goals, and to subordinate that
to a broader project of trying to revolutionary transform the world and serve other people in that
process. And so, again, I think there's resonance there for that aspect of my listenership that
is concerned primarily with sort of revolutionary politics. But let's go ahead and move forward
into this next realm. And, you know, I'm asking questions. I'm sort of out of my depth here.
So if I get something wrong, don't hesitate to correct me. But as far as I understand, Rumi's poetry
wasn't just meant to be read.
It was sung and danced and physically embodied.
There's that word again embodied.
What role did music and movement
and especially this term
Sama or Sama, the whirling dance,
play in his overall spiritual practice
and in Sufism more broadly?
Yeah, it's a great question
and it's interesting because Rumi
I think would not have been a proponent
of music really before meeting Shams.
And the Islamic tradition as a whole
is a bit like the Greek philosophical tradition
in that there's a certain
ambiguity towards music. And I think this is partly actually just recognizing its incredible
power, right? I mean, music, it's really quite phenomenal that just, you know, modifying sound
waves communicates human emotion. I mean, it's wild when you really think about it. But if you
look at how powerful it is, I mean, I even think of, you know, growing up a teenager in the late 90s
and, and, you know, developing an identity based on music, you know, and people still do this to this
day. And for some of us, that might be a lifelong identity. For some, it's just a phase as a teen. But
If you're thinking of like, you know, you're into punk, you have like, you become a punk.
You know, if you're listening to hip-hop, you know, a lot, you might start dressing a certain way, right?
Or EDM or, like, you know, music can actually create whole subcultures of identity.
So it is incredibly powerful.
And I think there's been this recognition of music's power in the Islamic tradition.
And in some cases, wanting to kind of forestall any negative power.
But there's also been an opening to appreciating the positive power of music.
And it's interesting because the Quran itself is really.
recited, and it's recited according to a musical scale. There's several musical scales you can
recite it according to. The call to prayer is recited according to different musical scales.
And so they're not seen as being music as such, but at the same time, there is this musical
quality built into Islamic tradition. And eventually the Sufis would really see the possibilities
for music to lead to spiritual elevation. And so Sama is an Arabic term that just means literally
listening. And so it was a tradition of listening to music contemplatively. And it's
interesting, some Sufi said, you know, it's all about where you're at. Like some music
is going to be forbidden for you. If it's going to just mess you up, some music is, you know,
neutral. And some music might actually be required obligatory for you to engage because of where
you're at. It can really open some doors. So I think when we look at the characteristic whirling that
the whirling dervishes, as they're called.
You know, this is really characteristic of Rumi's Sufi order,
or the Sufi order that was really developed after his death,
we should say, called the Medlebees.
So for them, they developed these really quite beautiful forms
of what we had now called classical Turkish music
that they would do this whirling dance to.
And it's really a meditation.
And so I think really what we're seeing there
is this the possibilities of music to be engaged contemplatively.
And there are really different ways of doing this.
I mean, it was funny.
I was in a Sufi lodge in Toronto, a Persian Sufi order.
And they had this little ceremony that they do, I think, weekly where they turn off all the lights.
And they play this classical Persian music.
And it was pretty far out, pretty cool.
But apparently I'd kind of missed the point because I talked to the teacher after and he said, what did you think?
I'm like, yeah, man, like, no, the lights were off.
And the music.
And he's like, but did you understand it?
any of the words. I said, no, I don't really know Persian. And so you could tell. He was kind of like,
you may have missed the point a little bit. So you could also, you know, suggests that a simple
aesthetic approach to music, which personally I probably take a lot of the time, I love music.
But I think there's an idea that it's actually going beyond just aesthetic appreciation.
That there are ways that music can actually allow you to access deeper aspects of your heart
and consciousness. And so certainly I think that's how it's been used.
in the Sufi Order that developed around Rumi's teachings.
And so in the context of the whirling dance, is that as you're dancing, you're also listening
to music, and then is there something that is done specifically with the attention?
Because I assume you're not just like thinking about what you're going to make for dinner
when you're engaged in this activity.
Can you kind of flesh that out?
Yeah, 100%.
And this will maybe just in general, we can talk about, you know, each of these boats that we can hop in to go
back to the other shore, each of these traditions have characteristic methods. And now within
Sufism, and that is a very particular expression of this method, the whirling dance, and other
Sufi orders would approach this differently. But it's all meant to do one thing. And really,
the Quran says this, you know, it commands this daily prayer. And then it says, but Thikor Allah is
Akbar. And Thikar Allah means the remembrance of God, the remembrance of source, the existential orientation
towards the real is the whole point of everything.
And, you know, many Muslim scholars have said this.
The whole point of the Quran and the law and the ritual and the practice is nothing
but the remembrance of God.
So vicar Allah is the main Sufi practice.
And the way that the characteristic method of the Sufi path is to do this through the 99
names.
So this is something that all, as far as I'm aware, of Sufi practice is based upon.
is the engagement with these names.
Now, 99 is partially a symbolic number.
The Quran actually has more than 99 names for God,
and Sufis would say the names of God are infinite.
And then ultimately, everything in the cosmos is a trace of a name of God.
But there are lists of 99, and Sufis do use them,
and each name, kind of like a mantra, is thought to have a particular energy or power.
So you can certainly use like the universal names like Allah, which is a name that is thought to encompass all the other 99 names.
So it's a name of totality.
There's also the name of essence, which is who.
Now, who in Arabic means he.
And so the Quran will actually say there is no God but he.
La ilaha illah, ilahua.
And so Sufis have taken on that as a name of essence.
One Sufi philosopher said, you know, when you say he, you mean somebody who isn't there.
If somebody's there, you say you.
But if they're not there, if they're absent, you say, well, he said.
So he said, who is the name of the essence that is forever sought, but on some level never found?
So that would be one name that Sufis work with.
And then also, you know, different names have maybe like healing.
If one needs healing energy, if one is dealing with certain aspects of the ego,
Um, different names can be helpful, um, depending on what you're, you're dealing with. Um, so there are names of, of forgiveness, names of expansion, names of contraction. Even one of God's names is like the destroyer or the one who brings death. And I, and I asked a Sufi teacher one time, you know, what would be, why would I want to sit around chanting the destroyer or the one who, who brings death? Like, what would be the spiritual purpose of that? And they said, well, you know, if, if there are certain patterns in your life, you know,
negative patterns that it seems like you really, really have a hard time shaking. What happens is that needs to be destroyed. And so you can use that energy of destruction, death finality to apply that to a really negative, a persistent negative pattern in your life. So different names have different purposes. And some are thought best used under the guidance of a teacher and with the recommendation of a teacher. Other names are seen as being very accessible and
anybody can use and you can use them lots. So even like, as I mentioned before,
la ilaha illah, which is there's no God but God, the Sufi interpretation of that is the ego
is an illusion and only God is real or there's only one reality. So repeating that,
you know, over and over helps orient oneself to the real and away from the illusion of the ego.
So if we're talking about whether it's the whirling meditation, if we're talking about really
any Sufi practice, it's all oriented towards.
Dikr, or sometimes that's pronounced Zikr. And that is the remembrance of God, the remembrance of
the real. Beautiful. Absolutely. Yeah, I mean, I guess the goddess Kali in the Hindu tradition
also has those connotations of death, time, and the destroyer of illusion. And she has to come
into your life when, yeah, there are these patterns of behavior that are holding you back.
And there's a sort of ruthlessness. And all of these traditions, there is that undercurrent of
ruthlessness and destruction and annihilation that takes place throughout these processes.
And I recently just was able to kick a really long-term habit of mine, a bad behavioral
pattern I got into as a teenager as a way to cope.
You know, basically I can be honest, it's a cannabis use where as a late teen, just the
suffering mental health issues, my own personal tragedies and stuff, and just the harshness of
life. It became a safety blanket for me and something I relied on to modulate my mood and to
uplift me and to de-stress and to tune out. And that stuck with me. It's very sticky. It sticks
with you for a long time. And now I'm entering my 36th year on this planet. And I figured that I had
cultivated this resilience within me through my meditation practice and other practices that I've
engaged in and that it was acting now as a hindrance on my ability to move forward and develop.
and so it needed to be destroyed.
And it took a year of tapering down and kind of oscillating back and forth.
Am I really ready?
Can I really go without it?
And I've cut the rope this year.
And I've had nothing but positive benefits from doing so,
not the least of which has been an overall mood stabilization.
I didn't quite understand how much daily use of any substance disregulates your mood
and your nervous system.
And there's this constant oscillation between ups and down.
and ups and downs. And I just thought that's a natural product of my brain chemistry. And I think
it's becoming more and more clear to me that that was because I was sort of hitting the gong
of my neurochemistry every day. And so, you know, that's just one little tiny, you know,
rather petty example. But I think this process is this sort of purging of these limited and
self-constraining and really coping mechanisms that we sometimes develop throughout life that at
some point in your maturation, it's time to let go of it and move beyond. And that's not true for
everybody. Other people have different relationships to substances, and I'm not here to judge anybody
else, but on my path, that was necessary. And, you know, I had to sort of summon the goddess
collie to get past that. Yeah, yeah. It's a great example, though, of how, you know, we need to
work with different energies on the path, for sure. Well, the next question I have, I might also be
betraying some of my ignorance. So again, don't hesitate to correct me. But I think,
think that it's fair to say that Rumi's magnum opus was the Masnavi and is sometimes, if I'm
referred to as the Persian Quran because of its depth and its scope. So what makes that work
so unique and how does his storytelling sort of function as a vehicle for transmitting this
mystical wisdom? Yeah. I mean, it's a really, and it is called the Persian Quran. And, you know,
it's seen as being a very special book. And I've shared a few quotes from it throughout our
discussion and hopefully your listeners can can through some of those appreciate, you know,
why it is such a profound book or at least start to. And so it's really an epic poem about
25,000 verses. And really, you know, one of the ways I think about it, it's a little bit like
jazz improvisation. Like I think of, I'm somebody who has gained something of an appreciation
of jazz and still, you know, very much I wouldn't call myself by any sense a, an
expert connoisseur, but I've really come to appreciate hearing some of Miles Davis playing
the trumpet. And there's something about it that is totally free. And yet somehow nails structure
at the same time. It's almost like dancing over structure playfully, but somehow also
nailing it. And there's something really cool about that. Like you feel like there are no rules
and yet he's satisfying every rule by, I don't even quite have the words for it. It's very, very cool.
And I think that that's kind of what the Masanabe is like.
It's like this really profound expression of the entire spiritual path of Sufi philosophy
and all of its dimensions and yet somehow expressed in this effervescent, playful rhyme with like pop culture references, even crude jokes, which also is not always appreciated in the West.
You know, you hear of celebrity getting like tattoos of Rumi and they're definitely not talking about like his, you know, insults to his scholarly enemies like a thousand.
fart's in your beard or something like that I don't think Brad Kitt's going to get that
tattooed on his side or something right it's like there's this earthiness and it's like
weaving every aspect of life you know from from the most mundane and silly and yet
always somehow made hitting this this theme and somehow expressing this this deep
essence and realization and teaching so it's really remarkable I mean again I think
you know jazz improvisation does come to mind because he
It seems like he's just writing so freely and skipping and dancing over all kinds of things and yet nailing something in the midst of that.
It's like, or, you know, seeing a cat hop, you know, all over things and not knocking things over and somehow landing on its feet despite looking like it's going to totally crash.
It's that some kind of freedom, but also precision that is really beautiful.
And so, yeah, I mean, I think that's, and one thing I'll say about it too is just that, you know, Rumi was,
pickled in the Islamic sciences, so to speak.
You know, he was pickled in the Quran and the sayings of the Prophet Muhammad and
Islamic traditions and philosophy more generally.
And so, you know, he just kind of is always subtly referring to those throughout the book.
And it is one of the issues.
And if you don't mind, I'll maybe just jump to this because I suspect we might want
to talk about it, you know, of how Rumi is understood in the West.
Yes, please.
And there is a challenge in translating Rumi because certainly I think there's,
The very universal message, as we talked about this, you know, tracing back the meaning, you know, like the grapes, you know, getting to what everybody's trying to say and express.
So there's a profound universalism and an openness in Rumi's teachings, but it's also so deeply grounded in the Islamic tradition.
And so translating Rumi for the West, this has been one of the issues is, you know, some of those references just aren't going to be easily comprehensible for folks who are not themselves grounded in that.
And so that can lead to efforts by translators and interpreters to kind of change some of those references or edit out certain explicitly Islamic references to make it more comprehensible.
But of course, one of the problems with that is then you lose something of, you know, who Rumi was as a historical Muslim Sufi person.
You know, again, profoundly universal, but also grounded in a particular boat.
So, yeah.
Yeah. And there's a there's an analogy with Buddhism where, as much.
meditation and mindfulness come to the West, there's this secular Western sometimes attempt to
sort of deculturize it and just take out the practice and sort of disregard the centuries
and millennia of, you know, Asian and Buddhist and Indian and Chinese and Zen culture that
comes with it. And I do always think that something is lost. And if I really love Buddhism,
I have to engage with the cultures that it came out of and that it were.
shaped by. And that gives me a much deeper understanding of the thing I'm actually engaging with. And
something is profoundly lost when, you know, these figures and their teachings or their art is
stripped away from that, from that context. So I highly, you know, warn against trying to do that.
And it's sort of, you know, on some level repulsive to me when I see that happening to Buddhism.
And I'm sure you have a similar sort of sensation when that happens to Rumi or Sufi figures.
but I'm saying, my question is, beyond just the Islamic and Sufi elements that are sometimes stripped out of his work in translation, is there something lost when we get outside of the, you know, of Arabic as a language?
Because, you know, there are some languages, and I know this with like German, for example, German philosophy, that the language itself is so intricately connected with what is produced within it that it is hard and something might be lost when we shift over to another language.
language world, as it were. So I'm wondering if you have any thoughts on that or if there are
some translators that are just really, really, really good at doing that. Yeah, I think it is
a perpetual issue. I've done some translation work myself from Arabic with this book that
I've just written on Sufi philosophy. And it is really, really challenging. It's an exquisite
challenge. You know, how do you capture meaning or capture spirit, but also have some integrity
with the form. And so translation, especially translating poetry, is very, very difficult. And this has
been a big problem actually with the Quran, the Quran being an Arabic text, and it actually frequently
refers to itself as an Arabic text. It's a very self-referential text. It talks about itself a lot.
It will say, this is an Arabic revelation. This is the Arabic Quran. And so knowing Arabic is really
important to understand it, and just to give you an example of what can be lost in translation is, you know,
there's this word that shows up a lot in the Quran,
kufur or kaffir,
and it means, it's translated as like unbeliever, non-believer, infidel, something like this.
But what's so interesting is the Quran actually frequently pairs
these words associated with kufur, with shukur, and shukar means gratitude,
thankfulness.
And so in many cases, kufur actually means ingratitude.
And if you look at the linguistic root of the word, it means to cover up or hide a good
debt has been done. And so what's interesting is you could also read the Quran in a lot of cases
not talking about belief and unbelief, but talking about gratitude and gratitude. And I also think of
it was cool. I was on a Sufi center. It was in upstate New York. I don't think I think they moved,
but they were in an old shaker village in upstate New York, a really beautiful place. And there
was this elderly woman who is living there. And I met with her after dinner and she,
She was in, like, the library, I think, at the center.
And she said to me something like happiness is a synonym for gratitude.
And the more I thought about that, I was like, yeah, yeah, that's kind of a nice way of putting it.
But, you know, that's just one example of where, when we're looking at language, you know,
and especially with Arabic and Persian and Rumi, you know, was fluent really in both, but he really primarily wrote in Persian.
But both really wonderful languages, but ones that I think they are in some cases, in
especially the poetry, difficult to translate because of the multiple meanings that can be in a
single word. That's one of the main things I find is that you've got these sort of several meanings
and then you have to kind of pick which one you want to foreground. And in doing so, you're
kind of inevitably erasing some of those other meanings. So it's a really, really challenging
thing. And I think with Rumi's poetry, I can see the challenge because there is such a universal
spirit, a profundity. And you want to capture that. And you want to capture that. And you want to
want to convey that. And of course, the beauty, the effervescence, the playfulness. You want to do that,
but you also still want to, again, keep to the integrity of what he was saying and how he wrote. And so
doing that, look, I just think it's a real big challenge and I don't think I have an answer other
than I think we need to be as conscientious about engaging with texts in different languages
as possible. And there certainly are better or worse translations, but inevitably, there's just
this inherent issue with that that I think it's worth being aware of.
Yeah, I think that's fascinating and on point and thoughtful, and people should always kind of be aware of that in the background when they engage with these things.
And then there's also this other paradox with any of these traditions that they are so located within a specific culture and a specific historical context, but they're also immensely universalizable, right?
What Rumi was talking about, what Jesus was talking about, what Buddha was talking about.
These are universalized human truths about the deepest aspects of the human condition.
And so there is this element in which they are inexorably and inevitably intertwined with their culture and their history and the language world that they were using at that time, as well as it has to be held in tension with the universalizable aspects of what they're actually saying.
And I think just kind of being aware of that tension and going into these traditions with respect for both sides of that puzzle, I think that's kind of the balance that one has to strike when they become interested in these things.
Well, I'll give you just one example of this, you know, so one of the most famous interpreters of Rumi in the English language is an individual named Coleman Barks, who's really himself a wonderful poet and also a practitioner of Sufism.
He has received some critique for, I think, translating or interpreting Rumi, probably more fair to say interpreting Rumi in a kind of Walt Whitman-esque free versus American style.
and I'll just read one example of sort of his translation versus a more close translation of the original.
So there's a saying that we find, here's how he translates it.
Oh, beyond ideas of right doing and wrongdoing, there is a field.
I will meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about ideas, language.
and even the phrase each other doesn't make any sense.
Now, apparently Brad Pitt does have the first part of this tattooed on his arm.
Out beyond ideas of right doing and wrong doing.
Yeah, it's beautifully put.
Now, if we look at the original Persian, this is a much closer translation to what Rumi was saying.
Out beyond Islam and Kufor, out beyond Islam in unbelief or in gratitude, there is a desert.
For us, there is a passion in the midst of that space.
The knower who reaches there will bow in prayer.
for there is neither Islam nor unbelief nor anywhere in that place.
So it's interesting.
I mean, I think Barks is capturing something of the spirit of what's being said,
but also, of course, we're losing a lot.
And we're also losing some of Rumi's context,
speaking about Islam and unbelief and bowing in prayer.
You know, I think there's still an essential message that's being captured.
But again, it's just a great example of seeing what can also be lost.
Yeah, and both versions have their own beauty, and I just don't envy the work of the translator to have to try to communicate that and maintain the essence and try to, you know, put it in terms that can be understood while keeping the rhythm of the poetry alive in a different language.
I mean, it's a very monumental task, so just hats off to anybody who engages with that with sincerity because it's not easy.
Precisely, yeah.
Well, Rory, we're at two hours here. This has been an absolutely fascinating conversation.
I knew when I listened to you on another podcast
that you would fit in perfectly with this one
and that we would have an amazing conversation
and I was not disappointed.
You have a wonderful way of articulating these things
and making them accessible to people
who might not know much even about the Islamic tradition
or certainly about Sufism, et cetera.
So I'm just really blown away by your ability to communicate so effectively
and I really feel a kindred spirit between you and I.
And so I would love to have you back on
maybe to discuss your book dissolving into being or anything else in any realm at all that you
want to talk about, open invite to come back on, and I mean that.
But for listeners who feel drawn to Rumi's words but don't have a background in Sufism or mysticism
or would just like to begin to explore all of these things, do you have any recommendations that
they could start with?
And also, where can listeners find you and your work online?
Yeah, well, thank you.
First of all, for the very kind words.
and I really appreciate your generosity of spirit and also sharpness of mind.
So I think that's really facilitated a wonderful conversation.
I'm very open to having more.
So thank you again for the invitation and for your work and what you're offering through this.
So when it comes to, if listeners want to dive into this question of, you know, Sufism or Rumi's work in particular, there are some books that I will recommend.
You know, if you want to just know a bit about his life and kind of an overview,
you. There is a scholar named Anne-Marie Schimel, a German scholar. There's actually a street
named after her in Pakistan. She was really beloved in a lot of Muslim cultures for the wonderful
work she did. Speaking of translation, things like that, and really articulation. I think she really
is just a profound and beautiful scholar. And so she wrote a book called Rumi's World, the life and
work of the great Sufi poet. So that Schimel, S-C-H-I-M-M-E-L. So that's a wonderful
place to start if you want to know a bit more about Rumi's life and his work. And then if you want to
kind of dive a bit deeper, there's another scholar, William Chittick, C-H-I-T-T-I-C-K. Really, I mean, in terms of
translator, wow. I mean, he translates from Arabic and Persian, I mean, and huge amounts. I'm kind of
in awe of his scholarship, truly. And he wrote a really beautiful book that I wish was more well-known.
It's called the Sufi Path of Love, the spiritual teachings of Rumi. And
there he really translates a lot of beautiful passages from several of Rumi's works.
So if listeners want to, you know, dive deeper into the Sufi path and into Rumi's teachings,
I think that's a very, very good place to go.
And then finally, if anyone's interested more in my work, as you mentioned, I mean,
you can just kind of Google me and I'll show up in a few, you know, YouTube interviews,
things like that.
But really this latest book, and maybe we can talk about it in the future, is again called
dissolving into being the wisdom of Sufi philosophy, and that was just published out in October
November of 2024 with Anka. That's ANQA, Anka Press, a British press that specializes in Sufi
philosophy. So, yeah, if you're interested, that's a book I've written that I hope is also
accessible to folks. I was thinking, you know, if friends and family are asking me, like, what is
Sufi philosophy anyways? I thought, well, here's a book I can at least hand to them and go,
hopefully this is accessible and interesting and that was the effort anyway so wonderful yeah well
i'll link to all of those in the show notes so people can quickly and easily find them and dive deeper and
of course um on on this show we have our episode with my good friend ad non hussein on sufism more
broadly if people want to dive deeper into that direction and another episode with adnan on the life
of st francis that was very much structured similarly to how this conversation was with using an
individual figure in a mystical tradition to kind of dive into that tradition more broadly. So if you
like this episode, you'll probably like the one on St. Francis of Assisi as well. But yes, thank you so
much, Rory. I can't wait to have you back on the episode. This is automatically already one of my
favorite episodes we've ever done. So I look forward to connecting with you again. And in the
meantime, keep up the amazing work. Well, thank you so much. Does my heart good to hear that.
And really, it's been an honor and a pleasure. So, inshallah in the future.
It's a scene in different way
I've got a vision
Forget my name
Forget my place
Forget my face
There's no position
empty space
Hello moon
I'm a witness
I'm collecting my perspective now
Time stops for a moment
I think something's out there
I think something's out there
I had a vision,
Distinctions fade
I'm out of range
I think
I think something's out there's out there
It's seen a different way.
It's seeing a different way.
I'm