Death gives freedom and power.
To be free in the world, you must die to the world.
Then the universe is your own, it becomes your body, an expression and a tool.
The happiness of being absolutely free is beyond description.
–Nisargadatta Maharaj
http://deathdeconstructed.blogspot.com/2013/12/on-freedom.html
Go seek the wearer, not the cloak.
—Rumi
but the world of reality remains forever.
How long will you play at loving the shape of the jug?
Leave the jug; go, seek the water!
–Rumi
http://deathdeconstructed.blogspot.com/2013/08/know-this.html
Respond to every call that excites your spirit.
Ignore those that make you fearful and sad,
that degrade you back toward disease and death.
–Rumi
http://deathdeconstructed.blogspot.com/2010/06/mercy.html
(see Read More at end for full poem)
-Rumi
A dragon was pulling a bear into its terrible mouth
. A courageous man went and rescued the bear.
There are such helpers in the world,
who rush to save anyone who cries out.
Like Mercy itself, they run toward the screaming.
And they can't be bought off. If you were to ask one of those,
"Why did you come so quickly?" he or she would say,
"Because I heard your helplessness."
Where lowland is, that's where water goes
. All medicine wants is pain to cure.
And don't just ask for one mercy.
Let them flood in.
Let the sky open under your feet.
Take the cotton out of your ears,
the cotton of consolations,
so you can hear the sphere-music.
Push the hair out of your eyes.
Blow the phlegm from your nose, and from your brain.
Let the wind breeze through.
Leave no residue in yourself from that bilious fever.
Take the cure for impotence,
that your manhood may shoot forth,
and a hundred new beings come of your coming.
Tear the binding from around the foot of your soul,
and let it race around the track in front of the crowd
. Loosen the knot of greed so tight on your neck.
Accept your new good luck.
Give your weakness to one who helps.
Crying out loud and weeping are great resources
. A nursing mother, all she does is wait to hear her child.
Just a little beginning-whimper, and she's there.
God created the child, that is your wanting,
so that it might cry out, so that milk might come.
Cry out!
Don't be stolid and silent with your pain.
Lament!
And let the milk of loving flow into you.
The hard rain and wind are ways the cloud has to take care of us.
Be patient.
Respond to every call that excites your spirit.
Ignore those that make you fearful and sad,
that degrade you back toward disease and death.
–Rumi
http://deathdeconstructed.blogspot.com/2010/06/mercy.html