The pattern of things

The pattern of things is loosely woven even before the invitations are sent out. Sometimes the pattern is easy to see. And sometimes you have to look beyond the prism of the obvious to see it. Only then is it revealed. Once you are able to discern this pattern you will begin to notice that certain things have been brought into your way. You will notice the intersections and street corners where events have collided. You will recognize the people who were sent to deliver something to you that you needed but you didn’t know you needed. You might also begin to perceive that the things you went somewhere to collect were not in fact what you were sent there for. You were sent there to collect something else entirely. This is called, “going to the market to buy flour but returning with bread”.

The ordinary and the unordinary

One of the more remarkable things about the English is the way they like to talk about the weather. When there is nothing special to say, they will immediately start to make idle chit chat about the weather. How banal you will say. How ordinary. Indeed. Mostly people nowadays have little time for the ordinary. It is considered to be dull. They say, “Show me the unordinary. Show me something extraordinary!”
Let me tell you something interesting. You can put on your boots and you can travel to the ends of the earth. You can climb to the top of mountains. You can spend an entire lifetime looking for the unordinary. And yet looking for the unordinary you will miss the ordinary. And if you miss the ordinary you won’t ever notice the unordinary.

The river course way

All rivers have their own character and move at their own pace. The ancients considered that they had their own spirit and lit candles in their honour. Some they likened to gods. Each great river starts as but a small trickle. To begin with there is the headlong urgency and rush of the raging mountain stream. It is like an untamed wild animal that can’t be contained. It wants to force asunder everything in its way. Gathering mass and solidity it slows and comes into its own. As the river gets closer to the sea it arrives at the plains where it starts to meander. It goes this way and that. It flows lazily with the contours of the land. No longer in a hurry it knows what it is and where it is going and so it looks like it is without direction. It is like a great bird carried by the wind. It moves without moving. It takes in the beauty of the landscape and relishes being a part of it. And as it floods, it gives back some of what it has accumulated before it finally merges into the sea.

Old stories

Nowadays people aren’t much interested in old stories. And besides, when it comes to old stories, the thing is that you never can tell whether they are true or not. The only way of telling is to find out for yourself. Nevertheless, here is a very old story about a pilgrim who wanted to meet the beloved.
Hearing talk of the beloved, a pilgrim once went to visit a certain dervish who lived a long time ago and asked, “I have heard about the beloved and I am interested in meeting her. How may one come to meet her?”
The dervish replied, “You must understand that this is not for everybody. But if you are really interested, first you must go to the house where nobody lives and wait there patiently. You should go there every day. If you are devoted and your heart is soft enough the beloved might take notice of you. Then one day out of curiosity to meet you, the beloved may decide to pay you a visit.”
Asked the pilgrim, “How will I know if it is the beloved who visits and not somebody else?”
Replied the dervish, “You needn’t worry about that. You will know that it’s the beloved. Her face is unmistakable.”

The invitation

There is an unseen path that takes one to the door of the beloved. One cannot determine in advance which way it will go or where it will lead. Whether it will pass along grand boulevards, winding backstreets or small crooked lanes, one has no way of knowing. To begin with one does not even know that it leads to the beloved’s door. Indeed, it is only when one receives the invitation from the beloved that one realizes that there is such a thing at all.