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The Essential Rumi by Jalal ad-Din Muhammad ar-Rumi
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really liked it
bookshelves: poetry, middle-east


On the tavern
In the tavern are many wines ... Being human means entering this place where entrancing varieties of desire are served. The grapeskin of ego breaks and a pouring begins.
...
But after some time in the tavern, a point comes, a memory of elsewhere, a longing for the source, and the drunks must set off from the tavern and begin the return. The Qur'an says, "We are all returning." The tavern is a kind of glorious hell that human beings enjoy and suffer and then push off from in their search for truth. The tavern is a dangerous region where sometimes disguises are necessary, but never bide your heart, Rumi urges. Keep open there. A breaking apart, a crying out into the street, begins in the tavern, and the human soul turns to find its way home.

May 5, 20
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Reading Progress

May 5, 2020 – Started Reading
May 5, 2020 – Shelved
May 5, 2020 –
page 2
0.48% "All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
...
Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn't come here of my own accord, and I can't leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home."
December 18, 2020 –
page 20
4.83% "This is how it always is
when I finish a poem.

A great silence overcomes me,
and I wonder why I ever thought
to use language."
December 20, 2020 –
page 53
12.8% "Let yourself be silently drawn
by the stronger pull of what you really love."
December 22, 2020 –
page 125
30.19% "This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor."
December 24, 2020 –
page 229
55.31% "You want proof that the sun exists, so you stay up
all night talking about it. Finally you sleep
as the sun comes up."
December 28, 2020 –
page 269
64.98% "You drive me away gently
as a flute song does a dove
from the eaves.

With the same song
you call me back.

You push me out on many journeys;
then you anchor me with no motion at all."
December 28, 2020 –
page 416
100% "No better love than love with no object,
no more satisfying work than work with no purpose.
If you could give up tricks and cleverness,
that would be the cleverest trick!"
December 28, 2020 – Finished Reading

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