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.
In this mob of I's inside, which one is me? Hear me out. I know I'm wandering, but don't start putting a lid on this racket. No telling what I'll do then. Every moment I'm thrown by your story. One moment it's happy, and I'm singing. One moment it's sad, and I'm weeping. It turns bitter, and I pull away. But then you spill a little grace, and just like that, I'm all light. It's not so bad, this arrangement, actually.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote reflects on the complexities of self-identity and emotional experiences, emphasizing the fluid nature of feelings influenced by external stories.
Rumi's quote delves into the internal chaos of human emotions and self-perception, symbolized by a 'mob of I's' that represent the different facets of our identity. He acknowledges the contrasting feelings that emerge from interactions with others, like happiness, sadness, and bitterness, and expresses a sense of acceptance and grace in this emotional rollercoaster, suggesting that despite the tumult, there is beauty and light to be found in the shared human experience.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be used in a discussion about self-identity in a psychology class.
More from Rumi
All quotes →The Law of Wonder rules my life at last, _x000D_ ...I burn each second of my life to Love _x000D_ Each second of my life burns out in Love _x000D_ In each leaping second Love lives afresh.
Lovers have heartaches _x000D_ That can't be cured by drugs _x000D_ Or sleep, _x000D_ Or games, _x000D_ But only by seeing their beloved.
Every fragile beauty, every perfect forgotten sentence, you grieve their going away, but that is not how it is. Where they come from never goes dry. It is an always flowing spring.
Whatever you keep hidden in your heart, God _x000D_ manifests in you outwardly. Whatever the root of _x000D_ the tree feeds on in secret, affects the bough and _x000D_ the leaf.
Come on sweetheart let's adore one another before there is no more of you and me
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No man remains quite what he was when he recognizes himself.
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I planted my self in the middle of a great many Glasses full of Dew, tied fast about me, upon which the Sun so violently darted his Rays, that the Heat, which attracted them, as it does the thickest Clouds, carried me up so high, that at length I found my self above the middle Region of the Air.