Wean Yourself by Rumi

Little by little, wean yourself.

This is the gist of what I have to say.
From an embryo, whose nourishment comes in the blood,

move to an infant drinking milk,

to a child on solid food,

to a searcher after wisdom,

to a hunter of more invisible game.
Think how it is to have a conversation with an embryo.

You might say, "The world outside is vast and intricate.

There are wheatfields and mountain passes,

and orchards in bloom.
At night there are millions of galaxies,
and in sunlight
the beauty of friends dancing at a wedding."

You ask the embryo why he, or she,
stays cooped up
 in the dark with eyes closed.
Listen to the answer.


There is no "other world."

I only know what I've experienced.

You must be hallucinating.



I just found this poem by Rumi that I'd never read before. What comes to mind when you read it? To me, it's about not getting stuck in my beliefs and continuing to allow the mind to stay open.
It reminds me of Plato's Allegory of the Cave. As long as we believe the shadows on the wall are real, we can't conceive of the beings that project them. This poem reminds me to notice when I'm stuck believing that something is "it." Notice how the belief that I know something keeps me from knowing beyond it.