There are a lot of Rumi poems I don't get, but this is one I'd like to think I do. I take great comfort in it. I take great comfort that there is an exchanging flow. On my bad days, I obsess of what people think of me. On my bad days, I take great comfort in this poem's advice of the relative non-importance of people's opinions. On my good days, this poem inspires me to start a huge, foolish project (like this blog).
These spiritual window-shoppers are the same kind of people Mirza Ghalib was talking about in The Footprint, people not taking the second step of desire, people who are waiting for the world to begin.
These spiritual window-shoppers,
who idly ask, 'How much is that?'
'Oh, I'm just looking.'
They handle a hundred items and put them down,
shadows with no capital.
What is spent is love and two eyes wet with weeping.
But these walk into a shop,
and their whole lives pass suddenly in that moment,
in that shop.
Where did you go? "Nowhere."
What did you have to eat? "Nothing much."
Even if you don't know what you want,
buy something, to be part of the exchanging flow.
Start a huge, foolish project,
like Noah.
It makes absolutely no difference
what people think of you.
These Spiritual Windowshoppers - Rumi by douglasbass
This is a translation by Coleman Barks, and is found in the book Rumi: We Are Three
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