searches for what's not there
to practice his craft.
A builder looks for the rotten                  hole
                where the roof caved in. A water-carrier
                picks the empty pot. A carpenter
                stops at the house with no door.                
Workers rush toward some hint                 
                of emptiness, which they then
                start to fill. Their hope, though,
                is for emptiness, so don't think
                you must avoid it. It contains
                what you need!
                Dear soul, if you were not friends
                with the vast nothing inside,
                why would you always be casting you net
                into it, and waiting so patiently?                
This invisible ocean has given                  you such abundance,
                but still you call it "death",
                that which provides you sustenance and work.                
God has allowed some magical reversal                  to occur,
                so that you see the scorpion pit
                as an object of desire,
                and all the beautiful expanse around it,
                as dangerous and swarming with snakes.                
This is how strange your fear                  of death
                and emptiness is, and how perverse
                the attachment to what you want.                
Now that you've heard me
                on your misapprehensions, dear friend,
                listen to Attar's story on the same subject.                
He strung the pearls of this
                about King Mahmud, how among the spoils
                of his Indian campaign there was a Hindu boy,
                whom he adopted as a son. He educated
                and provided royally for the boy
                and later made him vice-regent, seated
                on a gold throne beside himself.                
One day he found the young man                  weeping..
                "Why are you crying? You're the companion
                of an emperor! The entire nation is ranged out
                before you like stars that you can command!"                
The young man replied, "I am remembering                 
                my mother and father, and how they
                scared me as a child with threats of you!
                'Uh-oh, he's headed for King Mahmud's court!
                Nothing could be more hellish!' Where are they now
                when they should see me sitting here?"                
This incident is about your fear                  of changing.
                You are the Hindu boy. Mahmud, which means
                Praise to the End, is the spirit's
                poverty or emptiness.                
The mother and father are your                  attachment
                to beliefs and blood ties
                and desires and comforting habits.
                Don't listen to them!
                They seem to protect
                but they imprison.                
They are your worst enemies.
                They make you afraid
                of living in emptiness.                
Some day you'll weep tears of                  delight in that court,
                remembering your mistaken parents!                
Know that your body nurtures the                  spirit,
                helps it grow, and gives it wrong advise.                
The body becomes, eventually,                  like a vest
                of chain mail in peaceful years,
                too hot in summer and too cold in winter.                
But the body's desires, in another                  way, are like
                an unpredictable associate, whom you must be
                patient with. And that companion is helpful,
                because patience expands your capacity
                to love and feel peace.
                The patience of a rose close to a thorn
                keeps it fragrant. It's patience that gives milk
                to the male camel still nursing in its third year,
                and patience is what the prophets show to us.                
The beauty of careful sewing on                  a shirt
                is the patience it contains.                
Friendship and loyalty have patience                 
                as the strength of their connection.                
Feeling lonely and ignoble indicates                 
                that you haven't been patient.                
Be with those who mix with God                 
                as honey blends with milk, and say,                
"Anything that comes and goes,                 
                rises and sets, is not
                what I love." else you'll be like a caravan fire left
                to flare itself out alone beside the road.
                               
Rumi
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