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.
Tree limbs rise and fall like the ecstatic arms of those who have submitted to the mystical life. Leaf sounds talk together like poets making fresh metaphors.
Interpretation
What this quote means
The quote compares the movements of tree limbs to the expressions of joy in life, highlighting the connection between nature and human experience.
In this quote, Rumi beautifully illustrates the interconnectedness of nature and human emotion. The rising and falling of tree limbs are likened to the exuberance of individuals who embrace a deeper, mystical existence. The mention of 'leaf sounds' suggests that even nature has its own language, akin to poets creating new meanings. This encapsulates the idea that life, in all its forms, is a dance of expression and creativity.
Themes
In practice
Example use cases
This quote can be shared during a nature walk to inspire appreciation for the beauty of the world.
More from Rumi
All quotes βThe 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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The stones were sharp, The wind came at my back; Walking along the highway, Mincing like a cat.
It was an overcast late November morning, the grass splintered by hoarfrost, and winter grinning through the gaps in the clouds like a bad clown peering through the curtains before the show begins.
Tree planting is always a utopian enterprise, it seems to me, a wager on a future the planter doesn't necessarily expect to witness.
My religion is nature. Thatβs what arouses those feelings of wonder and mysticism and gratitude in me.
The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And why shouldn't it be?--it is the same the angels breathe.
A flower falls, even though we love it; and a weed grows, even though we do not love it.