Rumi speaks to me in words that I have never heard before, but of places that I know well. I am profoundly grateful for his depth of clarity, as well as his Islamic faith. While this faith provides the stage for his penetrating perspectives, it does not overshadow the true object of his adoration.
As a life-long member of the LDS religion, I find solace in Rumi's ability to walk a well traveled road, not as follower, but as an original participant in the journey. It is this intimate association with the sacred path that makes him a trustworthy guide, any of his perceived deviations from the narrow way not easily written-off as sacrilege. Each footstep Rumi takes, on or off the main route, is a call for one to wonder about where his position lies in relation to the divine.
Though I often feel fettered by the cumbersome aspects of my faith, I fail to recognize that the fetters are my own. Rumi illustrates that a profound fluency in one's language of spiritual heritage is not a burden, but a gift. Once one's spiritual journey leaps from the the minaret into the transcendent, one may chart their course by previously unseen stars.
In this way Rumi enters and leaves the strait way with grace and creativity, causing one to wonder about the geometry that undergirds his movements.
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