There is a mountain so huge that the Himalayas appear as a tiny speck. Normal mountains run toward her when she calls. They turn upside down when they get close, they're so excited. This mountain is secretly hidden inside you. On this mountain, everything is made new again. Looking out from this mountain, normal ideas and language and the phrase "each other" don't make any sense. Sitting on this mountain, you are like a jewel set in silver, knowing that's where you always wanted to be.
Everyone is craving the ultimate lover. Yes, nothing else is worth having, but don't be fooled. Most people aim too low. Even so, they will find bread to appease their hunger. But the lover, the real lover, loves the love of bread, not the bread.
The real lover is wondering where you've been. For how many days will you wander through empty buildings, clinging to a counterfeit nickel? When you release the worthless coin, you will inherit a shining diamond mine. Accept the gift of diamonds, celebrate, tell jokes and pound on the table. Those who don't let go, who are careful to behave properly are one sort. Lovers who burn are another.
In the soul of the world, the sun never stops shining and it sees everything everywhere. In this sunlight, Jesus is visible. This sunlight is burning within you, as a healing spirit more powerful than any darkness. It is raging, like a bonfire at midnight on top of a hill. Like the sunrise, glowing red, tearing the night to shreds. This light is "the Friend", vast like the stars, like the ocean. You can feel it, like the surf surging against your legs.
They say there is no future for us. They're right. That's fine with us. We're not going anywhere. We don't have names and we're not from anywhere. That's fine with us. Forget the future. Forget about building a safe place to stand, it's not necessary. Be like the cliffs along the seashore that love to be thrashed by winter storms.
Fear of losing everything and dying is reasonable, but lovers have more courage than reason, especially those in love with the Infinite. As a young bird learning to fly, I don't worry about hitting the ground. All day and night I ask, "Where did I come from? Why am I here? I can't understand flying, I need help!" I am desperate, aching for some kind of answer, I knock on a door. It opens. I've been knocking from the inside. Everything is already here inside myself, my own self contains everything, the exile, the homecoming, and the home. Oneself is all there is. Lovers don't finally meet each other. They are in each other all along. Within oneself is the mirror, the face in the mirror, and the light that is reflected. You are at once the sweet cold water and the cup that pours. Your own self is the field of sugarcane, while at the same time enjoying the sweetness. The ocean is inside the pearl.
-- Mostly from Rumi (as translated by Coleman Barks), also Mother Teresa, Anandamayi Ma, Nisargadatta Maharaj, Chogyam Trungpa Rimpoche.