Teachings Of Rumi Quotes

God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches by means of opposites so that you will have two wings to fly, not one

Bring the pure wine of love and freedom. But sir, a tornado is coming. More wine, we'll teach this storm A thing or two about whirling.

Don’t judge the way other people connect to God; to each his own way and his own prayer. God does not take us at our word. He looks deep into our hearts. It is not the ceremonies or rituals that make a difference, but whether our hearts are sufficiently pure or not.

A new moon teaches gradualness and deliberation and how one gives birth to oneself slowly. Patience with small details makes perfect a large work, like the universe.

I longed to teach, but I had to wait until the desire had left me before I could really do so.

When the rose is gone and the garden faded you will no longer hear the nightingale's song. The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil. The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing. If love withholds its strengthening care, the lover is left like a bird without care, the lover is left like a bird without wings. How will I be awake and aware if the light of the Beloved is absent? Love wills that this Word be brought forth.

My dear heart, never think you are better than others. Listen to their sorrows with compassion. If you want peace, don't harbor bad thoughts, do not gossip and don't teach what you do not know.

I have been a seeker and I still am, but I stopped asking the books and the stars. I started listening to the teaching of my Soul.

As Rumi reminds us, a bee and a wasp may drink from the same flower, but one produces nectar and the other a sting. We must choose the nectar.

Real teachers like Jesus, Buddha, Nanak, Rumi have much more to teach humanity, than the imaginary figure Krishna, concocted by an ancient Indian man named Vyasa.

The temporal cannot know the Eternal, so to the extent that the Sufi contemplates God in his heart, God Himself is the contemplator: Ultimately, the Witness, the Witnesser, and the Witnessing are all one. (p. 288)

I’ve said that Love annihilates desire and lust and ambition. Love and affection are such things that when they become active, even if someone were to bring a hundred houris, a hundred beautiful maidens of paradise, in front of you, they would seem as lifeless as mud bricks to you. Whenever you hear a word of wisdom or begin contemplation, that love and affection start to move.

The Now is also central to the teaching of Sufism, the mystical branch of Islam. Sufis have a saying: “The Sufi is the son of time present.” And Rumi, the great poet and teacher of Sufism, declares: “Past and future veil God from our sight; burn up both of them with fire.” Meister Eckhart, the thirteenth-century spiritual teacher, summed it all up beautifully: “Time is what keeps the light from reaching us. There is no greater obstacle to God than time.

We are all faced with incidents that teach us to be less selfish and judgmental and more compassionate and generous.

Whoever enters the Way without a guide will take a hundred years to travel a two-day journey. . . . – Rumi (p. 123)

The just Witness is the Beloved‘s Eye. (p. 292)

Maulana Rumi was reading under the shade of a tree by a river, a pile of books besides him—according to one variation he was teaching a group of his students with a pile of hand-written notes next to him— when Shams Tabriz (rah) came by. He asked Maulana what was going on and he replied ‘This is qaal (words), something you cannot understand’. Shams Tabriz then took Maulana’s precious books and threw them in the water. Maulana was aghast. Shams Tabriz then recited Bismillah and pulled the books out of the water and dusted the water off them as if he was dusting sand; the pages thus dried and Maulana saw that the ink on them had not run despite having been soaked in water. Maulana was amazed and asked incredulously, what is this. ‘This is haal (spiritual state) something you cannot understand’ replied Shams Tabriz (rah).

Though the words of the great saints appear in a hundred different forms, since God is one and the Way is one, how can their words be different? Though their teachings appear to contradict, their meaning is one. Separation exists in their outward form only; in inner purpose they all agree.

In the traditions of the Sufis Raqs, the sacred dance of spiritual ecstasy which even now is prevalent among the Sufis of the East, is traced to the time when contemplation of the Creator impressed the wonderful reality of his vision so deeply on the heart of  Jalaluddin Rumi that he became entirely absorbed in the whole and single immanence of nature, and took a rhythmic turn which caused the skirt of his garment to form a circle, and the movements of his hands and neck made a circle; and it is the memory of this moment of vision which is celebrated in the dance of dervishes.

Certainly many if not most of Sufi love poems can be read as if they were addressed to a woman. In fact, without doubt a certain number of them were inspired by a woman‘s beautiful features, but this did not prevent the poet from viewing her loveliness as the mirror of God‘s Beauty. (p. 287)

Moses questions God about death Moses asks God the most basic question, "You create us; then you kill us. "Why" God says, I understand the purpose within your question; therefore I'll answer. You want to know the meaning of phenomenal duration, so you can teach others and help their souls unfold. Anyone who asks this question has some of the answer. Sow seed corn, Moses, and you will experience the purpose of taking a form. Moses plants and tends the crop; when the ears have ripened to the shape of their beauty, he brings out to the field his blade and sharpening stone. The unseen voice comes, Why did you work to bring the corn to perfection only now to chop it down? "Lord, it is the winnowing time when we separate the corn grains we use for food from the straw we use for bedding and fodder. They must be stored in different cribs in the barn." Where did you learn this threshing-floor work? "You gave me discernment." Do you not feel that I should have a similar discernment in the planting and harvesting of forms that I do? So creation has a purpose. God has said, I was a hidden treasure, and I desired to be known. That desire is part of manifestation.

The matter revolves around two questions. What did Shams teach Rumi? What did he give him? The answer is that Shams taught him to free himself from the captivity of reason. This is because reason has limits beyond which would be insanity. However, there is no such limit for the heart and the point of its satisfaction is fanafillah.

You that change the dull field, who give conversation to damaged ears, make dying alive, award guardianship to the wandering mind, you who erase the five senses at night, who give eyes allure and a blood clot wisdom, who give the lover heroic strength, you who hear what Sanai said, Lose your life, if you seek eternity. The master who teaches us is absolute light, not this visibility.

When my mind tells me there’s no possible way ahead, Beloved, may Love whisper to me, “Yes, there is a way! I’ve gone that way a thousand times before.” When my mind says, “Danger lies ahead. It will hurt too much, if you surrender all,” let me hear Love’s laughter, as I hear Love say, “The pain is only in your mind.” Teach me to find the roses hidden in my pain, so that I may discover within my inner self, rose garden after rose garden.

We were young and the focus on human suffering gave our retreats gravitas. But suffering is not the goal, it is the beginning of the path. Now in the retreat I teach, I also encourage participants to awaken to their innate joy. From the very beginning I encourage them to allow the moments of joy and well-being to deepen, to spread throughout their body and mind. Many of us are conditioned to fear joy and happiness, yet joy is necessary for awakening. As the Persian mystic Rumi instructs us, ‘When you go to a garden, do you look at thorns or flowers? Spend more time with roses and jasmine.

The intelligent want self-control; children want candy. —RUMI INTRODUCTION Welcome to Willpower 101 Whenever I mention that I teach a course on willpower, the nearly universal response is, “Oh, that’s what I need.” Now more than ever, people realize that willpower—the ability to control their attention, emotions, and desires—influences their physical health, financial security, relationships, and professional success. We all know this. We know we’re supposed to be in control of every aspect of our lives, from what we eat to what we do, say, and buy. And yet, most people feel like willpower failures—in control one moment but overwhelmed and out of control the next. According to the American Psychological Association, Americans name lack of willpower as the number-one reason they struggle to meet their goals. Many feel guilty about letting themselves and others down. Others feel at the mercy of their thoughts, emotions, and cravings, their lives dictated by impulses rather than conscious choices. Even the best-controlled feel a kind of exhaustion at keeping it all together and wonder if life is supposed to be such a struggle. As a health psychologist and educator for the Stanford School of Medicine’s Health Improvement Program, my job is to help people manage stress and make healthy choices. After years of watching people struggle to change their thoughts, emotions, bodies, and habits, I realized that much of what people believed about willpower was sabotaging their success and creating unnecessary stress. Although scientific research had much to say that could help them, it was clear that these insights had not yet become part of public understanding. Instead, people continued to rely on worn-out strategies for self-control. I saw again and again that the strategies most people use weren’t just ineffective—they actually backfired, leading to self-sabotage and losing control. This led me to create “The Science of Willpower,” a class offered to the public through Stanford University’s Continuing Studies program. The course brings together the newest insights about self-control from psychology, economics, neuroscience, and medicine to explain how we can break old habits and create healthy habits, conquer procrastination, find our focus, and manage stress. It illuminates why we give in to temptation and how we can find the strength to resist. It demonstrates the importance of understanding the limits of self-control,

In the second story, which reminds me to look inward for solutions to what may be troubling me, the ninth-century sage Rabia was looking for a lost key under a streetlight. Her neighbors turned out to help, but without success. Finally, they asked where she might have dropped the key, so that they could better focus their search. “Actually,” said Rabia, “I lost it in my house.” Bemused, they asked her why she didn’t look for it there. “Because,” she said, “there’s no light in my house, but out here the light is bright!” The neighbors laughed, and Rabia seized the moment to make her point. “Friends,” she said, “you are intelligent people and that is why you laugh. But tell me: When you lose your joy or peace of mind because of some disappointment or hardship, did you lose it out there [gesturing around her] or in here [gesturing to her heart]?” We tend to lay blame on our external circumstances and seek superficial solutions, but the truth is that we lost our peace and joy inside ourselves. We avoid looking inside us, where the light is dim. When we make it a lifelong practice to shine the light of compassionate awareness on ourself, our shadow gently begins to diminish, and we come closer to discovering our radiant, divine Self.

Children displaced from their families, unconnected to their teachers, and not yet mature enough to relate to one another as separate beings, automatically regroup to satisfy their instinctive drive for attachment. The culture of the group is either invented or borrowed from the peer culture at large. It does not take children very long to know what tribe they belong to, what the rules are, whom they can talk to, and whom they must keep at a distance. Despite our attempts to teach our children respect for individual differences and to instill in them a sense of belonging to a cohesive civilization, we are fragmenting at an alarming rate into tribal chaos. Our very own children are leading the way. The time we as parents and educators spend trying to teach our children social tolerance, acceptance, and etiquette would be much better invested in cultivating a connection with them. Children nurtured in traditional hierarchies of attachment are not nearly as susceptible to the spontaneous forces of tribalization. The social values we wish to inculcate can be transmitted only across existing lines of attachment. The culture created by peer orientation does not mix well with other cultures. Because peer orientation exists unto itself, so does the culture it creates. It operates much more like a cult than a culture. Immature beings who embrace the culture generated by peer orientation become cut off from people of other cultures. Peer-oriented youth actually glory in excluding traditional values and historical connections. People from differing cultures that have been transmitted vertically retain the capacity to relate to one another respectfully, even if in practice that capacity is often overwhelmed by the historical or political conflicts in which human beings become caught up. Beneath the particular cultural expressions they can mutually recognize the universality of human values and cherish the richness of diversity. Peer-oriented kids are, however, inclined to hang out with one another exclusively. They set themselves apart from those not like them. As our peer-oriented children reach adolescence, many parents find themselves feeling as if their very own children are barely recognizable with their tribal music, clothing, language, rituals, and body decorations. “Tattooing and piercing, once shocking, are now merely generational signposts in a culture that constantly redraws the line between acceptable and disallowed behavior,” a Canadian journalist pointed out in 2003. Many of our children are growing up bereft of the universal culture that produced the timeless creations of humankind: The Bhagavad Gita; the writings of Rumi and Dante, Shakespeare and Cervantes and Faulkner, or of the best and most innovative of living authors; the music of Beethoven and Mahler; or even the great translations of the Bible. They know only what is current and popular, appreciate only what they can share with their peers. True universality in the positive sense of mutual respect, curiosity, and shared human values does not require a globalized culture created by peer-orientation. It requires psychological maturity — a maturity that cannot result from didactic education, only from healthy development. Only adults can help children grow up in this way. And only in healthy relationships with adult mentors — parents, teachers, elders, artistic, musical and intellectual creators — can children receive their birthright, the universal and age-honored cultural legacy of humankind. Only in such relationships can they fully develop their own capacities for free and individual and fresh cultural expression.

You will learn by reading, but you will understand with love

but there is no one way to participate in this re-storying. In her inspired and challenging memoir, Bless the Birds, nature writer Susan Tweit chronicled her husband Richard’s decline and death due to a brain tumor. Ever an educator in life, it was Richard’s wish that his body become a teaching cadaver for medical students. After his time teaching post-death, his ashes were returned to Susan. When I asked her about it, Susan said, “I’d always imagined our bodies ‘going to ground’ together and gently moldering back into earth, but if it gave Richard peace to donate his body, that was his decision.” As Rumi sang, “There are a thousand ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

Across spiritual traditions, sages and mystics have recognized a divine essence underlying all existence, often described as the "light behind the clouds." From Rumi's poetic verses to the Diamond Sutra's teachings, Meister Eckhart's sermons to Ramana Maharshi's insights, this fundamental awareness emerges repeatedly. Contemporary teachers like Eckhart Tolle, Byron Katie, and Rupert Spira continue sharing this perennial wisdom, which the IFS model translates into a modern psychotherapeutic framework. The technique complements rather than replaces contemplative paths, offering a modality for directly experiencing the shared spiritual recognition permeating sages' teachings across cultures and eras. Through IFS, individuals can connect with the higher insights found within the world's great wisdom traditions.

The tendency to view the diversity of forms as bothersome illusions (maya) to be transcended is a common trap in certain nondual teachings. There is often a desire to move beyond the inconvenient multiplicity of parts back to the oneness of pure awareness. However, this practice of discarding the relative in favour of the absolute only leads to further separation and more walls dividing self from Self. Rather than escaping our parts, we can become curious about their unique vantage points. This presents opportunities for connection and appreciating our shared essence. Completely discarding maya overlooks the value of this multiplicity in allowing the absolute to fully know and express itself. The parts are not obstacles to be overcome, but rather vehicles on the path—the teachers in the schoolhouse we call life. What's in the way, is the way. As Rumi's 'Guest House' poem expresses, each part has come for a reason, bringing gifts to share. Rather than rejecting these 'visitors,' we can open the door wide to welcome their presence. By listening to their wisdom with curiosity and compassion, we can deepen our understanding and connection to the whole.

To his mind and teachings, periods of self-discipline and even trials and challenges are designed to make us grow and should be embraced instead of resisted and feared.

To give an example of the Sufi approach to teachings, a conservative Islamic theologian might say that a Muslim who does not perform the five cycles of daily prayers will suffer punishment in the hereafter. A Sufi teacher, on the other hand, will liken prayers to attendance at celestial banquets. A practitioner who fails to pray is missing out on the joy of the feast. That loss is the punishment.

What is a Sufi?” Sufis are Muslims who emphasize essence over form and substance over appearance in their spiritual practices

Twain had already traveled himself to the Middle East in 1867, the experience of which he details in The Innocents Abroad, or the New Pilgrim’s Progress (1869), and from the 1870s was much captivated by a different Persian poet, cOmar Khayyam, whose Rubáiyát Twain described as “the only poem I have ever carried about with me.

God turns you from one feeling to another and teaches by means of opposites so that you will have two wings to fly, not one.

Remembrance in its most elementary, tangible form is to chant the names of God. Remembrance is everything. Our destination as spiritually developing human beings is to live our lives in such a way that we are completely within that continual remembrance. That is the world and universe we live in. It surrounds and informs us. It illuminates our perception and softens our hearts. It should also bring us joy and happiness. That is our reality, because looking at life through the distorting eyes of the ego is, at best, a secondhand reality. The word for „remembrance“ in Arabic literally means „to mention,“ yet we translate it as „remembrance.“ When you mention someone, in a way, you‘re remembering the one you are calling to mind. We are remembering our Origin, remembering that we come from God and to God we will return. People sometimes talk about how children have an open channel to the Divine because they just came from God relatively recently. Remembering our Origin is a fundamental truth that we need to call to mind. This is expressed in the hadith „Whoever belongs to God, God will belong to him or her.“ In that sense, if remembrance is deep enough, complete enough, it is the Divine remembering in you. In the state of belonging to God, what you want is not different than what the Divine wants. And „God“ wants what you want; there is then no separate „you“ wanting. There is no duality or personal will pulling in the opposite direction. Rumi calls that being under „the compulsion of love.“(p. 6)

Suleyman Dede was someone who spoke from a place of deep knowing, a place much greater than himself. Suleyman Dede was not just an individual while speaking. He was representing something Infinite. The love, acceptance, and belonging you felt from him made you want to be with him for the rest of your life. It made you want to never leave his side. Some said that in Suleyman Dede‘s embrace you felt as though you were in your mother‘s arms. You felt a real sense of being in a state beyond comparing, free from like or dislike. Suleyman Dede spoke with the genuine voice of the Prophet Muhammad. The love he gave came from a deep center within his heart. His heart was connected to Mevlana Rumi, and the Prophet. He was part of something that was intricately and carefully balanced. Suleyman Dede said chance did not play a role in the people he met. He knew that wherever he was, it was the right place, right time, and that he had been called for a specific service. He was awake to that. Dede said that we are never separated from God. He invited us to enter into the experience described by Surah al-Hadid: He is with you wherever you are. (p. 78-79)

There is no true justice without mercy. Mercy precedes everything, and it is why we are here. Mercy created us and is what is being revealed. The dervish dispenses, communicates, and shares that mercy. Sometimes wrath may be mixed in, but it is always in the service of mercy. God said to the Prophet, „We sent you only as a mercy to the Worlds.“ The dervish is one who is merciful. In Konya, over the entryway to the dergah where Mevlana (Rumi) is buried, is an inscription which says, „This is the Kaaba of the Lovers. Those who entered here became complete.“ The dervish walks the Path of completion. A Sufi has complete integration with life while remembering God with every breath. The great majority of Sufis have lived a family life, held a job, and contributed to society, while reaching extraordinary attainments of integrating the finite and the Infinite. They lived in a state of wahdat. (p. 76)

The three dimensions of Sufi teaching: the Law, the Way, and the Truth; or knowledge, works, and attainment to God; or theory, practice, and spiritual realization. Knowledge of God, man, and the world derives ultimately from God Himself, primarily by means of revelation, – in the context of Islam – the Koran and the Hadith of the Prophet; and secondarily by means of inspiration or „unveiling“, the spiritual vision of the saints, or the realized Sufis. Knowledge provides the illumination whereby man can see everything in its proper place. (p. 11)

The Sufi Way is to follow the model provided by the Prophet‘s representatives on earth, the saints, who are the shaykhs or the spiritual masters. Once having entered the Way, the disciple begins to undergo a process of inward transformation. If he is among those destined to reach spiritual perfection, he will climb the ascending rungs of a ladder stretching to heaven and beyond; the alchemy of the Way will transmute the base copper of his substance into pure and noble gold. The Truth or „attainment to God“ is not a simple, one-step process. It can be said that this third dimension of Sufi teaching deals with all the inner experiences undergone by the traveler on his journey. It concerns all the „virtues“ (akhlaq) the Sufi must acquire, in keeping with the Prophet‘s saying, „Assume the virtues of God!“ If acquiring virtues means „attaining to God,“ this is because they do not belong to man. The discipline of the Way coupled with God‘s grace and guidance results in a process of purification whereby the veil of human nature is gradually removed from the mirror of the primordial human substance, made in the image of God, or, in the Prophet‘s words, „upon the Form of the All-Merciful.“ Any perfection achieved by man is God‘s perfection reflected within him. (p. 11-12)

The Sufi‘s book is not composed of ink and letters: It is naught but a heart white as snow. The scholar‘s provisions are the marks of the pen. What are the Sufi‘s provisions? The footprints of the saints. – Rumi (p. 131)

God is the only object worthy of our love, for He is the True Beloved; every other object of love veils His Face. In describing His Image which they contemplate in their hearts, the Sufis often use terminology pertaining to the primary derivative beloved of the male human being, that is, woman. All the imagery employed by the Persian poets in the ghazal or „love poem“ to praise derivative beloveds takes on a new significance at the hands of the Sufi poets. Again one must keep in mind that this is not a question of poetical convention, since according to Sufi teachings women manifest the divine Attributes of Beauty, Mercy, Gentleness, and Kindness in a relatively direct manner within their outward forms. In Rumi‘s view, their derivative beauty is the closest thing to True Beauty in the material world. For this very reason, the attraction that their beauty exerts upon a man can be one of the greatest obstacles to his spiritual development. As long as he thinks that a woman‘s beauty belongs to her, he will be led astray. But once he is able to see her beauty as the reflection of God‘s Beauty, then his derivative love can be transformed into True Love. (p. 286)

There are no „others“. What appears to be „other than God“ is in fact foam upon the Ocean, forms manifesting meanings, the Hidden Treasure displaying itself outwardly, sunlight upon a wall. All multiplicity is the manifestation of Unity. (p. 304)

The Now is also central to the teaching of Sufism, the mystical branch of Islam. Sufis have a saying: “The Sufi is the son of time present.” And Rumi, the great poet and teacher of Sufism, declares: “Past and future veil God from our sight; burn up both of them with fire.