There is an old Sufi tale about a Stream that flowed freely for years. It is said that he began his journey from up there in the mountains far far away… He passed through hilltops and lowlands… He survived ditches and travelled plains … until one day, he reached the desert.
The Stream has been through a lot on his journey and was certain that he can pull through this one too. So, he tried and tried; and the more he tried to cross the desert, the faster he kept sinking into its Sands… the Stream’s waters were disappearing and the Stream was gradually fading away.
Yet, he knew that he was meant to cross the desert… but, he had no idea how… And, he began to wonder why… Why was he facing such a hard task? Why can’t he just continue flowing as he used to? This is when the Stream heard a gentle subtle voice that seems to come from afar … the voice whispered: “the Wind crosses the desert, so can you.”
“But, the Wind can fly,” replied the Stream, “it can flow over those harsh arid Sands that keep sucking the life out of me.”
“Maybe you’re pushing too hard,” whispered the voice, “maybe you need to let go… Let go of your old ways of flowing… your old ways of knowing.”
“But, are there other ways of flowing… other ways of knowing?” Wondered the Stream.
“If you just allow yourself to be absorbed in the Wind, it can happily carry you to wherever you are meant to be.”
The Stream fiercely objected, “absorbed in the Wind? But, I will no longer be a Stream. What will I be? Who will I be if I let myself be absorbed in the Wind?”
“And, what will you be? Who will you be? If you do not?” Answered the voice. “If you keep pushing against the harshness of the Sands, you’ll soon be absorbed away or turned into a swampland.”
It was a hard choice to make… After all, the Stream only knew one way of flowing… one way of knowing. All his life, he has been flowing in his old familiar way… he has been knowing in his old knowable way... he was free, or so, he thought… he had never relinquished his control before… had never been absorbed before… “Will I stay me? Will I stay the Stream?”
“The Wind has been carrying the waters from the streams for years and years… it carries them to wherever they are meant to be”
“How do I know that this is true?”
“You need to trust. You need to believe.”
“But, will I remain the same Stream that I am today?”
“Your essence will never change… whether you become a new stream, a lake, or a river… whether you choose to sink in the Sands or turn into swamp or marsh... you are and will always remain you… your secret… your most essential you.”
The Stream was more confused than ever… So many questions needed to be asked. But, the answer did not come from the faraway whispers this time, the answer came from deep within. The Stream vaguely remembered once upon a time far faraway when he was held by the caring Wind… it felt safe… it felt true… or, did it?
And, the Stream allowed his waters to be absorbed in the Wind… and, the Wind gently carried the waters to the mountaintops far faraway. The Stream was watching and learning... He was flowing like he had never flown before… He was knowing like he had never known before...
The Stream still did not know where the Wind is carrying him… And, he still did not know what or how he’ll end up being… But, it felt true… it felt real… it felt safe. The Stream somehow knew that he still was and will always remain the Stream that he had always been and he also knew that he no longer was and will never remain the Stream he had ever been.
And, on his journey up to the mountaintops, he heard the familiar gentle voice whisper again, “We have always known, because we see it happen all the time."
And, this is why it is said that the journey of your Stream of Life is written in the Sands.
_______________
Ref. Tales of the Dervishes by Idris Shah
The Stream has been through a lot on his journey and was certain that he can pull through this one too. So, he tried and tried; and the more he tried to cross the desert, the faster he kept sinking into its Sands… the Stream’s waters were disappearing and the Stream was gradually fading away.
Yet, he knew that he was meant to cross the desert… but, he had no idea how… And, he began to wonder why… Why was he facing such a hard task? Why can’t he just continue flowing as he used to? This is when the Stream heard a gentle subtle voice that seems to come from afar … the voice whispered: “the Wind crosses the desert, so can you.”
“But, the Wind can fly,” replied the Stream, “it can flow over those harsh arid Sands that keep sucking the life out of me.”
“Maybe you’re pushing too hard,” whispered the voice, “maybe you need to let go… Let go of your old ways of flowing… your old ways of knowing.”
“But, are there other ways of flowing… other ways of knowing?” Wondered the Stream.
“If you just allow yourself to be absorbed in the Wind, it can happily carry you to wherever you are meant to be.”
The Stream fiercely objected, “absorbed in the Wind? But, I will no longer be a Stream. What will I be? Who will I be if I let myself be absorbed in the Wind?”
“And, what will you be? Who will you be? If you do not?” Answered the voice. “If you keep pushing against the harshness of the Sands, you’ll soon be absorbed away or turned into a swampland.”
It was a hard choice to make… After all, the Stream only knew one way of flowing… one way of knowing. All his life, he has been flowing in his old familiar way… he has been knowing in his old knowable way... he was free, or so, he thought… he had never relinquished his control before… had never been absorbed before… “Will I stay me? Will I stay the Stream?”
“The Wind has been carrying the waters from the streams for years and years… it carries them to wherever they are meant to be”
“How do I know that this is true?”
“You need to trust. You need to believe.”
“But, will I remain the same Stream that I am today?”
“Your essence will never change… whether you become a new stream, a lake, or a river… whether you choose to sink in the Sands or turn into swamp or marsh... you are and will always remain you… your secret… your most essential you.”
The Stream was more confused than ever… So many questions needed to be asked. But, the answer did not come from the faraway whispers this time, the answer came from deep within. The Stream vaguely remembered once upon a time far faraway when he was held by the caring Wind… it felt safe… it felt true… or, did it?
And, the Stream allowed his waters to be absorbed in the Wind… and, the Wind gently carried the waters to the mountaintops far faraway. The Stream was watching and learning... He was flowing like he had never flown before… He was knowing like he had never known before...
The Stream still did not know where the Wind is carrying him… And, he still did not know what or how he’ll end up being… But, it felt true… it felt real… it felt safe. The Stream somehow knew that he still was and will always remain the Stream that he had always been and he also knew that he no longer was and will never remain the Stream he had ever been.
And, on his journey up to the mountaintops, he heard the familiar gentle voice whisper again, “We have always known, because we see it happen all the time."
And, this is why it is said that the journey of your Stream of Life is written in the Sands.
_______________
Ref. Tales of the Dervishes by Idris Shah
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