I’ve run into this poem by Rumi before.  But I’ve been talking about the limitations of what we know and looking for common ground, recently here and here, and not so recently here, and it really struck me.  What do you think?

Out beyond the ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field.  I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn’t make any sense.

I found that in “An Almanac for the Soul” by Marv and Nancy Hiles — which I picked up at the Bishop’s Ranch, a rather nice retreat center located in our diocese (and owned and operated by the Diocese of California).  The next daily entry in that same book comes from Arthur James, First Earl of Balfour.  It says:

Our greatest truths are but half-truths.  Think not to settle down forever in any truth, but use it as a tent in which to pass a summer night, but build no house of it, or it will become your tomb.  When you first become aware of its insufficiency, and see some counter-truth looming up in the distance, then weep not, but rejoice:  it is the Lord’s voice saying, “Take up your bed and walk.”

Anyway, these passages seemed to cohere with and comment on themes I’ve been running with.  They’ve given me more food for thought.