Mar 06 2026
What it’s about
It’s not about success.
It’s about character
and presence.
Feb 27 2026
Rumi – With Us
With Us
by Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi
English version by Nevit Ergin with Camille Helminski
Even if you’re not a seeker,
still, follow us, keep searching with us.
Even if you don’t know how
to play and sing,
you’ll become like us;
with us you’ll start singing and dancing.
Even if you are Qarun, the richest of kings,
when you fall in love,
you’ll become a beggar.
Though you are a sultan, like us you’ll become a slave.
One candle of this gathering
is worth a hundred candles; its light is as great.
Either you are alive or dead.
You’ll come back to life with us.
Unbind your feet.
Show the rose garden —
start laughing with your whole body,
like a rose, like us.
Put on the mantle for a moment
and see the ones whose hearts are alive.
Then, throw out your satin dresses
and cover yourself with a cloak, like us.
When a seed falls into the ground,
it germinates, grows, and becomes a tree:
if you understand these symbols,
you’ll follow us, and fall to the ground, with us.
God’s Shams of Tabriz says
to the heart’s bud,
“If your eyes are opened,
you’ll see the things worth seeing.”
— from The Rumi Collection (Shambhala Library), by Kabir Helminski / Nevit Ergin
/ Image by Fahaz Ahanin /
It has been too long since we last enjoyed a poem by Rumi together. To call his material “poems” sometimes sounds overly formal to my ears. Rumi didn’t sit at a table with a pen and inkpot composing poetry. According to tradition, he would walk round and round a column or tent pole — and the words just poured out of him. These are utterances, revelations, The words of Rumi should sing in the heart and speak directly to the soul.
Even if you’re not a seeker,
still, follow us, keep searching with us.
What I like about this opening phrase is how it immediately short circuits spiritual inertia, not by exhorting us to renewed effort, but simply by participation — and by ignoring our self labels. We don’t have to be a “seeker,” we just have to seek.
The seeking itself is really a celebration:
Even if you don’t know how
to play and sing,
you’ll become like us;
with us you’ll start singing and dancing.
It’s a popup rave, and you only know it exists once you show up and start dancing!
when you fall in love,
you’ll become a beggar.
We spend so much of our lives in pretense, in constructing a presentation of who we are that we show to the world. But when we encounter real love, all of that falls away, and we gladly follow love’s caravan, living happily on whatever gets tossed our way.
You’ll come back to life with us.
New life is found this way. An amazing thing! We thought we were alive, but were not. When that false self “dies,” that’s when we truly understand what life is.
Unbind your feet.
Rumi tells us twice to unbind our feet. Why do we want to unbind our feet? What is important about going barefoot? The feet can be awkward, embarassing, vulnerable, to some even shameful. To unbind them is to reveal them, to be naked, to be honest — and to be present on the living earth.
Show the rose garden —
start laughing with your whole body,
like a rose, like us.
The rose is an important symbol that keeps coming up in Sufi poetry. I think of it as representing the awakened heart, the way it buds and blossoms circling in toward an infinitely layered center, offering its wine-like perfume to the world. So when we laugh with our whole body “like a rose” we experience the full-bodied, full-reality delight that is only possible through the awakened heart. All of the imperfections, all of the terrors of the world, and all of the beauties and simple joys too are all somehow reconciled in the heart, the rose. That’s when we start laughing with our whole body.
“If your eyes are opened,
you’ll see the things worth seeing.”
Recommended Books: Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi
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Mevlana Jelaluddin Rumi
Afghanistan & Turkey (1207 – 1273) Timeline |
Feb 13 2026
ibn Arabi – My heart wears all forms
My heart wears all forms
by Muhyiddin ibn Arabi
English version by Ivan M. Granger
My heart wears all forms:
For gazelles it is an open field,
for monks a cloister.
It is a temple for idols,
and for pilgrims the Ka’ba.
It is the Torah’s tablets
and the pages of the Quran.
Love is the faith I follow.
Whichever path Love’s caravan takes,
that is my road and my religion.
/ Image by bachmont /
These lines from The Interpreter of Desires are probably Ibn ‘Arabi’s most famous. The entire work is a multi-layered love poem that, like The Song of Solomon in the Bible, can be read as an exploration of the soul’s yearning for God. Ibn ‘Arabi’s poem tells of a pilgrimage to Mecca in which he meets a beautiful young woman named Nizham (Harmony). The ardor awakened by this encounter inspires a quest for the eternal harmony she embodies. Her earthly beauty and grace awakens a yearning for the true Beloved, for God.
My heart wears all forms.
The heart, in this sense, is not just how we feel love, it is the center of our awareness. It is the mirror that reflects whatever we focus on. In other words, the heart, the core of awareness, doesn’t just feel, it takes on the form of what we love. This is why we ultimately become what we love or fixate on, for good and for bad.
When we fall silent, perhaps stunned into silence through a radical encounter with beauty and harmony, we find everything reflected within the heart. Every person. Every creature. Every object. Every thought. We find all of existence reflected within the heart.
And each reflection is recognized as an expression of the Beloved. While we ourselves become formless.
For gazelles it is an open field,
for monks a cloister.
It is a temple for idols,
and for pilgrims the Ka’ba.
It is the Torah’s tablets
and the pages of the Quran.
Can such an awakened heart then reject any school of awakening?
Love is the faith I follow.
Whichever path Love’s caravan takes,
that is my road and my religion.
But, of course, one must understand what real religion is. It is not stone walls or steeples. It is not crosses or crescents. It is neither creeds nor rituals nor books. Though any one of these, properly approached, can open the door.
Like all true masters, Ibn ‘Arabi reminds us that the true religion is nothing less than Divine Love.
This is an all-embracing vision of reality in which the heart has grown wide enough to recognize everyone and everything at rest within itself. An overwhelming, blissful experience of wholeness, interconnectedness, and joy. Words fail, but that pulse of the universal life does not.
That is what religion is. That is the road.
Recommended Books: Muhyiddin ibn Arabi
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Muhyiddin ibn Arabi
Spain (1165 – 1240) Timeline |
Feb 13 2026
silent Self within
There’s that silent Self within,
a stranger to us,
seated in wordless immensity.
Feb 06 2026
Hafiz – The Garden
The Garden
by Hafiz
English version by Rober Bly
The garden is breathing out the air of Paradise today,
Toward me, a friend with a sweet nature, and this wine.
It’s all right for the beggar to brag that he is a King today.
His royal tent is a shadow thrown by a cloud; his throne room is a sown field.
This meadow is composing a tale of a spring day in May;
The serious man lets the future go and accepts the cash now.
Do you really believe your enemy will be faithful to you?
The candle the hermit lights goes out in the worldly church.
Make your soul strong then by feeding it the secret wine.
When we have turned to dust, this rotten world will press our dust into bricks.
My life is a black book. But don’t rebuke me too much.
No person can ever read the words written on his own forehead.
When Hafez’s coffin comes by, it’ll be all right to follow behind.
Although he is a captive of sin, he is on his way to the Garden.
— from The Soul is Here for its Own Joy: Sacred Poems from Many Cultures, Edited by Robert Bly
/ Image by Kylo /
How about something with a breath of spring today?
I know it’s easy to get swept up in the world’s dramas and suffering. And we should play a role in establishing a new sense of sanity and compassion. Most of us have a role on the world stage and we want that role to be that of healer, perhaps hero. But it is also important to remember that that role is what we do, not who we are. And we must remind ourselves that we take right action because it is right, not because it will necessarily win the day. So we do what we are called to do, we play our role, but the world goes its own way. Our well-being cannot be based on the world always showing us a smiling face.
Does that sound bleak? That depends on what we imagine the world to be. Most of us think the world is all there is, that it is reality itself. Not so. When we speak of the world, we are talking about the shared mental landscape in society — the human consensus reality. It is not what is actually real, just what most people silently agree to as the boundaries of possibility. Even when the world feels dark or thin on hope, what is actually real is vast, filled with life and possibility and… dare I say it? — Joy.
It is important for all of us, particularly at this time, to regularly step away from the world into the wider garden. We must breathe its air and replenish ourselves. We remind ourselves of what is really real and what is really possible beyond the false boundaries most people accept.
The world is a shared fantasy, not always a pleasant one. But the garden is alive and all around us, always whispering to us even when we dream.
The garden is breathing out the air of Paradise today…
Have a beautiful day!
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Hafiz
Iran/Persia (1320 – 1389) Timeline |
Feb 06 2026
ego and maya
The ego itself
is the veil of Maya,
both hiding and, ultimately, revealing
Divine Reality.
Jan 23 2026
Kahlil Gibran – Self-Knowledge
Self-Knowledge
by Kahlil Gibran
And a man said, Speak to us of Self-Knowledge.
And he answered saying:
Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart’s knowledge.
You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.
And it is well you should.
The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea;
And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes.
But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;
And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.
For self is a sea boundless and measureless.
Say not, “I have found the truth,” but rather, “I have found a truth.”
Say not, “I have found the path of the soul.” Say rather, “I have met the soul walking upon my path.”
For the soul walks upon all paths.
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.
— from The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibran
/ Image by jin.thai /
A chilly January morning. I’m sitting in bed, sick, but still gathering my energies for a day of work. In the background of my thoughts, I’m aware of events building in Minnesota, communities trying to find ways to push back against authoritarian aggressions, knowing that the current authoritarian wave will not dissipate soon. Tensions build, and I can feel it. I look for those tensions in my own body and try to unwind them, let the divine energy flow, rediscovering their pathways through me, through the world, allowing the sickness to be released from my body, from the world. Using the microcosm to heal the macrocosm…
=
Each time I return to this poem and reread its lines, I feel as if I am greeting old friends in the phrases. They continue to stay with me.
Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
Especially that middle section…
The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea…
Gibran is giving us a tangible image of self as a sea of infinite depths. And it is our very nature to seek self-knowledge, ultimately to pour ourselves into it, to discover treasure within its depths.
I like his assertion that we should not attempt to weigh or measure what we discover.
But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;
And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.
It is as if when we measure, we think we have comprehended and possessed it, but we have in some way externalized it and defined artificial boundaries. By quantifying, we have limited what is, by nature, limitless.
For self is a sea boundless and measureless.
And his final lines–
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.
Recommended Books: Kahlil Gibran
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| The Prophet | The Beloved: Reflections on the Path of the Heart | Broken Wings | Jesus the Son of Man | Kahlil Gibran: His Life & World |
| More Books >> | ||||
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Kahlil Gibran
Lebanon/US (1883 – 1931) Timeline |
Jan 23 2026
Non-believer
The goal is to become a non-believer,
to abandon belief — and dogma and hearsay —
in favor of direct knowing.
Jan 16 2026
Kamalakanta – The black bee of my mind
The black bee of my mind is drawn in sheer delight
by Kamalakanta
The black bee of my mind is drawn in sheer delight
To the blue lotus flower of Mother Shyama’s feet,
The blue flower of the feet of Kali, Shiva’s Consort;
Tasteless, to the bee, are the blossoms of desire.
My Mother’s feet are black, and black, too, is the bee;
Black is made one with black! This much of the mystery
My mortal eyes behold, then hastily retreat.
But Kamalakanta’s hopes are answered in the end;
He swims in the Sea of Bliss, unmoved by joy or pain.
— from Kali: The Black Goddess of Dakshineswar, by Elizabeth U. Harding
/ Image by Marjan Taghipour /
A blessed new year, everyone!
In this new year, I have been thinking of the rising turmoil and cruelty being exhibited in the country and in the world. And my thoughts turn to the Bengali goddess Kali.
Kali is the all-loving Mother, yet she can be terrifying. That tension has always fascinated me and given me courage, especially in my moments of fear.
In Hindu tradition, the Goddess can represent Mother, the Great Source, the Void/Womb from which all are born, Manifestation, Creation, Vibration, Speech, Song, the Arts, Beauty, Darkness, Mystery, all of the World (and all its Illusions). But with birth, also comes death, with manifestation, also comes dissolution; anything with a beginning also has an end. Only the eternal is eternal. So the Goddess, Mother and Manifestor, is also sometimes portrayed as Destroyer. She is Life and Death both. She is the Power that brings all into being, animates and enlivens the universe, and also draws it back into non-being. But even in Her fiercest aspect, the Mother Goddess is loving. For Her, death is merely the death of illusion and the return to Self.
And that is Kali’s gift, the truest expression of her compassion for the universe: She loves her children too much to let them remain stuck in illusion, even when they want to. Stated in the most shocking language possible, she kills her children repeatedly, until they realize they cannot die. By confronting the terrors of the manifest world, we eventually discover our inherent immortality and feel profound compassion for our brothers and sisters swept caught in its dramas.
Many Westerners at first find the iconography associated with the goddess Kali unsettling and can’t understand why so many beloved saints, like the gentle Ramakrishna, were so deeply devoted to her. Let’s spend a few moments contemplating this powerful representation of the Divine Feminine…
Kali (Shyama) is black, which is the Divine Mother’s color, for it is the color of mystery, of the night, that which is beyond knowing, the color that swallows all other colors.
My Mother’s feet are black, and black, too, is the bee…
With devotion, the busy bee of the mind becomes quiet and “black” like the vast, still mystery of God (or, rather, Goddess). Drawn to the center of awareness, it loses itself in the blissful nectar’s sweetness, until…
Black is made one with black!
Beautiful!
–
Kali is sometimes called the Dark Mother: beautiful, wild, and terrible. She is depicted dancing in ecstasy upon a battle field, slaying demons in her fierce bliss.
Kali is often depicted wearing a garland of severed heads, a startling image, but one of deep spiritual significance. These are the heads of slain demons, each a spiritual impediment that she has removed. In slaying the demons, she has freed them, so that now their heads rest in bliss upon her breast.
Further, each head, severed at the neck, represents a specific sound; collectively, the heads represent the sound of divine speech, the foundational vibration or Eternal Word, through which the universe is manifested.
So Kali’s destruction is also new creation.
I have always considered this one of the most powerful elements of Kali’s iconography. When Kali steps upon the world stage, she is mighty and terrible. The more we cling to what is other than divine, the more terrifying she is — for she is quick to slay all that is an impediment to divine manifestation. When we identify with anything less than our full divine Self, Kali appears as Death, ready to sever the comforts and assumptions that keep us small. But, at the overwhelming sight of her, if we instead let go of our false ego identity — allowing the demon head to be severed — we come to rest in bliss within the Mother’s embrace. We become an ornament to the Goddess. We become one with her action, lending our voice to Her ecstatic work, which clears the way for the Divine to manifest anew in the world.
Many of you have expressed serious concerns and fears to me about the state of the world in recent weeks. Worldly problems need to be confronted and addressed on the practical level at which they exist, but if they are addressed only at that level, the underlying problems are never resolved or even fully recognized. I personally believe that the ideal is an integrated approach in which we cultivate deep quiet, and then combine that with vigorous action. What that looks like in each individual life is different, unique to our own strengths and circumstances.
This approach creates a dilemma, no doubt about it. It is very difficult to spend the day dealing with the intense, constant specificity of a busy life engaged with the challenges of the world, sometimes even having to navigate the psychic extremes of conflict and confrontation, yet returning again and again to meditation and prayerful quiet. What is the solution? Practice. Dedication. Acceptance of the difficulties that arise in a life lived with heart and compassion. But also, we can draw strength from recognizing how the active and the inner feed each other. When we tap into those moments of deep peace, we can discover in ourselves a clarity and purpose which strengthen our actions, while daily action and service in the world reinforce the deepest values of the heart. Whatever we do in the world becomes a ritual of sorts, an embodied affirmation through interaction, validating what we have learned, highlighting where we yet need strengthening and refinement.
I encourage each of us, each in our own unique way, to reach out and work for a better, kinder, safer, more just world. What we do can be small or it can be grand. It doesn’t have to be what other people expect or recognize as “service.” It just has to fulfill the heart’s instinct to help. And then support that with whatever creative or quiet pursuits feed the spirit — meditation, prayer, poetry, play.
Me, personally, I’m pretty good, if erratic, at the internal life, but too fiery and easily stressed with the outer stuff, especially when I witness cruelty. That’s the balance I work at, learning steadiness and patience in my worldly activity, while not letting that draw too much energy away from my internal, creative life. Add chronic fatigue syndrome to the mix and I have a rich practice that keeps me challenged and engaged. What is the particular balance you work at?
Sending love to everyone.
Recommended Books: Kamalakanta
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| Singing to the Goddess: Poems to Kali and Uma from Bengal | Kali: The Black Goddess of Dakshineswar | |||
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Kamalakanta
India (1769? – 1821?) Timeline |
Dec 19 2025
Issa – Buddha’s body
Buddha’s body
by Kobayashi Issa
English version by David G. Lanoue
Buddha’s body
accepts it…
winter rain
— from The Longing in Between: Sacred Poetry from Around the World (A Poetry Chaikhana Anthology), Edited by Ivan M. Granger
/ Image by piddy77 /
On this winter day with rain falling outside, I found myself speaking this poem aloud with appreciation…
I could just live on the nourishment of haiku every day. A few lines, so short they’re almost incoherent… the way they teeter on the edge of meaning and occasionally slip into the void… Something about that desperate line dares the mind to burst open with insight.
This haiku, for example — I don’t read it as being about enduring uncomfortable weather. There is more than that here. There is acceptance, a quiet contentment, even a welcoming. It is about the recognition of the rightness of things in their season. And that touches the eternal. The Buddha is simply here, always here, always present, and we feel the winter rain is simply passing by for its short moment. The rain touches the Buddha’s face, and then moves on. So too the wind, the sun, the rising of grasses, the blooming of flowers. They come. The Buddha sits, smiles, accepts. And the world moves along again in its cycles of life, becoming and unbecoming, while the Buddha remains.
And what is the Buddha’s body but us, our very nature? The body arises, the seasons of the self blossom and turn inward again, and through it all there is a still point within us quietly watching, and accepting, and smiling.
=
I recently recorded a dialog with Dr. Laurel Trujillo of The Yoga Hour podcast
May we all discover light even in dark times!
Recommended Books: Kobayashi Issa
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Kobayashi Issa
Japan (1763 – 1828) Timeline |
Dec 12 2025
Sarmad – My heart searched for your fragrance
My heart searched for your fragrance
by Sarmad
English version by Isaac A. Ezekiel
My heart searched for your fragrance
in the breeze moving at dawn,
my eyes searched for the flower of your face
in the garden of creation.
Neither could lead me to your abode —
contemplation alone showed me the way.
— from Sarmad: Martyr to Love Divine, by Isaac A. Ezekiel
/ Image by Huy Binh /
Reading this lovely poem by Sarmad, I can honestly embrace either side of its point. He is saying that, no matter how beautiful and uplifting the world around us may be, the Eternal is only found within the inner space of deep contemplation. And that is such an important reminder for the human world that is perpetually hooked by the senses and the desire to comprehend everything in terms of material reality. Even the purest appreciation of the most stunning panorama does not hold God. Always, always, the Eternal is found within.
And yet– physical reality, especially the natural world in all its life and beauty, reveals something to us of the deeper Reality. In the sunrise, in a flower, we do not see the face of God… but, when we learn to look, we can see there a suggestion of a smile. Spirit playfully hides just behind the physical. Grasping at the physical world leads to failure and blindness, but recognizing its beauty can lead us to inner stillness and true seeing.
So, should we agree with Sarmad, or disagree? Both, I think.
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Sarmad
Iran/Persia & India (? – 1659) Timeline |
Dec 05 2025
Pablo Neruda – The Poet’s Obligation
The Poet’s Obligation
by Pablo Neruda
English version by Alistair Reed
To whoever is not listening to the sea
this Friday morning, to whoever is cooped up
in house or office, factory or woman
or street or mine or harsh prison cell:
to him I come, and, without speaking or looking,
I arrive and open the door of his prison,
and a vibration starts up, vague and insistent,
a great fragment of thunder sets in motion
the rumble of the planet and the foam,
the raucous rivers of the ocean flood,
the star vibrates swiftly in its corona,
and the sea is beating, dying and continuing.
So, drawn on by my destiny,
I ceaselessly must listen to and keep
the sea’s lamenting in my awareness,
I must feel the crash of the hard water
and gather it up in a perpetual cup
so that, wherever those in prison may be,
wherever they suffer the autumn’s castigation,
I may be there with an errant wave,
I may move, passing through windows,
and hearing me, eyes will glance upward
saying, “How can I reach the sea?”
And I shall broadcast, saying nothing,
the starry echoes of the wave,
a breaking up of foam and of quicksand,
a rustling of salt withdrawing,
the grey cry of sea-birds on the coast.
So, through me, freedom and the sea
will make their answer to the shuttered heart.
— from On the Blue Shore of Silence: Poems of the Sea, by Pablo Neruda / Translated by Alastair Reid
/ Image by Nina Stawski /
The poet is telling us that it is time for a prison break!
Neruda is reminding us that poetry is an act of rebellion. The most binding chains are the hidden ones we forge ourselves. Poetry frees the mind and the heart. Poetry — and, by extension, all art — is a revolutionary act, a declaration of psychic freedom. More than a declaration, it is a remembrance, a recollection of the wider, untamed life that awaits us.
All freedoms we strive for in the troubled world around us must first be imagined and felt. Through poetry and art, we shift and reawaken. That is the real freedom regardless of outer circumstance. When enough people carry within themselves that inner freedom, how can it be stopped in the world?
So, through me, freedom and the sea
will make their answer to the shuttered heart.
Recommended Books: Pablo Neruda
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| The Book of Questions | Neruda: Selected Poems | On the Blue Shore of Silence: Poems of the Sea | Pablo Neruda: Selected Poems | Extravagaria: A Bilingual Edition |
| More Books >> | ||||
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Pablo Neruda
Chile (1904 – 1973) Timeline |
Dec 05 2025
a book and a building
A book and a building are not enough.
The human spirit needs cathedrals of trees,
towering mountains, and fields
of spring wildflowers as places of prayer.