The Truth has shared so much of Itself with me That I can no longer call myself A man, a woman, an angel, Or even pure Soul.
HafezRead
I am a hole in a flute that the Christ's breath moves through. Listen to this music.
Interpretation
The quote suggests that a person's essence can be a vessel for divine inspiration, akin to a musical instrument that produces beauty through an unseen force.
Hafez uses the metaphor of a hole in a flute to illustrate the idea that individuals are conduits for a higher, transcendent forceβin this case, the breath of Christ. This imagery emphasizes the importance of being open to spiritual possibilities, suggesting that one's existence can give rise to profound beauty and harmony when one allows spiritual influence to flow through them.
In practice
During a meditation workshop, one could use this quote to emphasize the importance of being open to spiritual experiences.
The Truth has shared so much of Itself with me That I can no longer call myself A man, a woman, an angel, Or even pure Soul.
I once asked a bird, how is it that you fly in this gravity of darkness? She responded, 'love lifts me.'
The earth has disappeared beneath my feet, It fled from all my ecstasy. Now like a singing air creature I feel the rose keep opening.
For I have learned that every heart will get_x000D_ What it prays for_x000D_ Most.
Love sometimes gets tired of speaking sweetly and wants to rip to shreds all your erroneous notions of the truth that make you fight within yourself, dear one, and with others, causing the world to weep on too many fine days... The Beloved sometimes wants to do us a great favor: Hold us upside down and shake all the nonsense out.
Fear is the cheapest room in the house. I would like to see you living in better conditions.
With some people solitariness is an escape not from others but from themselves. For they see in the eyes of others only a reflection of themselves.
I finished up my graduate degree in quantum mechanics, but underwent a bit of a personal crisis, recognizing that I didn't want to do that for the rest of my life. It was too abstract, too far removed from human concerns.
Far, far below the deepest delvings of the dwarves, the world is gnawed by nameless things.
My own suspicion is that the universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose.
To put it in plain language, Russia is that country where the name of a writer appears not on the cover of his book, but on the door of his prison cell.
Allegories are, in the realm of thought, what ruins are in the realm of things.
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