“Out Beyond Ideas” by Mevlâna Jalâluddîn Rumi
January 16, 2012
. . .
Out Beyond Ideas
Out beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing,
there is a field.
I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase
each other
doesn’t make any sense.
by Mevlâna Jalâluddîn Rumi
. . .
To find out more about the author of this poem, please click here.
“Only Breath” by Mevlâna Jalâluddîn Rumi
January 14, 2012
. . .
Only Breath
Not Christian or Jew or Muslim, not Hindu
Buddhist, sufi, or zen. Not any religion
or cultural system. I am not from the East
or the West, not out of the ocean or up
from the ground, not natural or ethereal, not
composed of elements at all. I do not exist,
am not an entity in this world or the next,
did not descend from Adam or Eve or any
origin story. My place is placeless, a trace
of the traceless. Neither body or soul.
I belong to the beloved, have seen the two
worlds as one and that one call to and know,
first, last, outer, inner, only that
breath breathing human being.
by Mevlâna Jalâluddîn Rumi
. . .
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If You’re Going To Try…
August 9, 2010
A poem that has inspired me to carrying on doing what I do… Regardless of the cost. Trust me… I’m not here for the money. Experience is what speaks to me.
When you’ve won the lottery of existence, as we all have, and you’re basking in the starry light of being, here on a planet that is situated in a ‘sweet’ spot precluding Life, orbiting around a friendly star… A planet which we have called Earth… Well… You might just be able to see how fortunate you really are. ‘This’ experience is reality… Whether drunk or sober… Poor or rich… Ugly or beautiful. Amazement flows everyday… Whether painful or joyous… Peaceful of agitating… Happy or sad.
And the glory is ours… If only we dare to claim it…
If you’re going to try, go all the way.
Otherwise, don’t even start.
This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind.
It could mean not eating for three or four days.
It could mean freezing on a park bench.
It could mean jail.
It could mean derision.
It could mean mockery–isolation.
Isolation is the gift.
All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it.
And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds.
And it will be better than anything else you can imagine.
If you’re going to try, go all the way.
There is no other feeling like that.
You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire.
You will ride life straight to perfect laughter.
It’s the only good fight there is.
by Heinrich Karl Bukowski
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