Some commentary on the verse, As you start on the way, the way appears. When you cease to be, real being comes.
Zuleikha shut every door, but Joseph kept rattling the locks. He trusted and kept moving back & forth, and somehow he
escaped. This is the way to slip through your non-spacial home. The same way you came, you leave.
You wander landscapes in your dreams. How did you get there? Close your eyes and surrender.
Find yourself in the city of God.
But you’re still looking for admiration! You love how your customers look at you. You sit at the head of the assembly.
When you close your eyes, you see people applauding, as surely as an owl shuts its eyes and sees the forest.
There was once a man who said , “I am a prophet. In fact, I am the edge of the prophecy moving through time.”
People surround him and tie him up and bring him before the king.
“What right does this man have to say that he lives in the place of revelation?”
The man himself speaks up, “Think how an infant sleeps and grows unconsciously into awareness.
Prophets are not like that. They pass awake from the source to the up-and-down of the five senses, this left-right, back-and-forth.”
“Put him on the rack,” they scream. But the king sees that the man is thin and fragile. He speaks gently. Kindness is his way.
He disperses the crowd, sits the man down, and asks where he lives.
“My home is the peace of God, but I have come to this judging place where no one knows me. I feel like a fish upon sand.”
The king tries to joke him out of this state: “But why did you make these claims today? Was it something you ate?”
“I don’t care about world-food. I am tasting God’s honey, but what is that to these people? They are
like mountain rocks. They scoff at me by echoing what I say. If I brought them news of money, or a love note from a sweetheart, they would welcome me.
But not with this prophecy talk. It’s like a blood-soaked bandage on a donkey’s back. The one who removes it is being helpful but is going to get kicked!
No one here wants to be healed. Show me someone who wants what I have!”
The king becomes more curious about the man. “What is it exactly that you who have come as messengers have to give?
“What do we not have!!
But let’s suppose for a moment that my inspiration is not divine. Still, you would agree, my speaking is not inferior to the workings of a bee?
The Qur’an says, “God has inspired the bee.” The universe is filled with honey. Human beings feed on it and evolve upward
with the same, but more profound, inspiration as the bee.” So the man defends his claim.
You have read about the inspired spring. Drink from there.
Be companions with those whose lips are wet with that water.
The pathless path opens whenever you say
There is no reality but God. There is only God. ~ Rumi
You are reality. ~ Ingrid