The poet Rumi talks a lot about the “Beloved”.
Of whom or what does he refer?
His guru, Shams, who helped open him to the delight of the Universe?
Or perhaps Awareness itself, rising as such an amazing gift, unbidden?
Is the Beloved love itself, singing itself into existence in impossible ways, obliterating the mind’s judgments and assessments?
I’ve always been fascinated: what exactly is the Beloved that Rumi pens in such a way that we fall helpless before his poetry?
Byron Katie shares: I experience reality as something so benevolent, so beautiful, so pure that there is no word for it. I don’t have a problem calling it “God.” It exists wherever I turn my eyes (and even saying “exists” is saying too much). When I first realized this, I was amazed. I was ecstatic, and I still am. God, God, God—that was…
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