Sweet Mid-Summer!

(Piero di Cosimo – A Satyr Mourning over a Nymph)

Drink from this heart now,
for all this loving it contains.
When you look for it again,
it will be dancing in the wind.
– Shaikh Abu Saeed Abil Kheir

Greetings Friends!
Back again, working with the new shorter format. We have some great music, poetry, and a sweet folktale from Wales. Click on the Piero di Cosimo paintings, they are quite large and detail rich.

This entry is based around the poetry of Shaikh Abu Saeed Abil Kheir, a great Persian Sufi Poet. I am now selecting the poetry first, and moving forward with it in mind as the central theme to any edition. We will play with this a bit and see how it feels. Any feedback would be appreciated!

Life is sweet at the apex of the solar year here in Portland, except it has been raining extensively (though I enjoy it at night). It has been a cool spring and early summer here, but the berries are going wild locally. The robins are all back, and digging up the back yard for worms and nesting material at a furious rate.
The raccoon’s are using our fence at night as a highway, you can here them barreling through at all hours after midnight upsetting the local hounds. The squirrels are a bit sparse, bespeaking the local feline populations hunting skills. I have never seen so few of the squirrel clan locally. Usually, our yard is swarming with them, but not this year.

Rowan (my son) graduated from college last week. We had a big blow out for him, and he was working the Monday after graduating at his first paid professional job. We have high hopes for him!

I hope this finds you all well, and enjoying the fruits of the mid-summer. I hope all of our relatives in the UK are on high ground with the recent flooding, and I pray your life is sweet and bountiful.

Bright Blessings,

On The Menu:
Music: NeoMorpheous – Carbon Based Lifeforms – Interconnected Conscioussness Mix
Poetry: Shaikh Abu Saeed Abil Kheir – “Nobody, Son of Nobody”
From Wales: The Shepherd of Myddvai
Featured Artist: Piero di Cosimo
NeoMorpheous – Carbon Based Lifeforms – Interconnected Conscioussness Mix
Full Album!


Shaikh Abu Saeed Abil Kheir – “Nobody, Son of Nobody”

If you are seeking closeness to the Beloved,
love everyone.
Whether in their presence or absence,
see only their good.
If you want to be as clear and refreshing as
the breath of the morning breeze,
like the sun, have nothing but warmth and light
for everyone.

Beloved, show me the way out of this prison.
Make me needless of both worlds.
Pray, erase from mind all
that is not You.

Have mercy Beloved,
though I am nothing but forgetfulness,
You are the essence of forgiveness.
Make me needless of all but You.

Piousness and the path of love
are two different roads.
Love is the fire that burns both belief
and non-belief.
Those who practice Love have neither
religion nor caste.

Be humble.
Only fools take pride in their station here, trapped in
a cage of dust, moisture, heat and air.
No need to complain of calamities,
this illusion of a life lasts but a moment.

Suppose you can recite a thousand holy
verses from memory.
What are you going to do
with your ego self, the true
mark of the heretic?
Every time your head touches
the ground in prayers, remember,
this was to teach you to
put down that load of ego
which bars you from entering
the chamber of the Beloved.

To your mind feed understanding,
to your heart, tolerance and compassion.
The simpler your life, the more meaningful.
The less you desire of the world,
the more room you will have in it
to fill with the Beloved.

The best use of your tongue
is to repeat the Beloved’s Name in devotion.
The best prayers are those in
the solitude of the night.
The shortest way to the Friend
is through selfless service and
generosity to His creatures.

Those with no sense of honor and dignity are best avoided.
Those who change colors constantly
are best forgotten.
The best way to be with those
bereft of the Beloved’s qualities,
is to forget them in the
joy of silence in one’s corner of solitude.

If you do not give up the crowds
you won’t find your way to Oneness.
If you do not drop your self
you won’t find your true worth.
If you do not offer all you
have to the Beloved,
you will live this life free of that
pain which makes it worth living.
(Piero di Cosimo – Battle of Lapiths and Centaurs)

From Wales: The Shepherd of Myddvai

Up in the Black Mountains in Caermarthenshire lies the lake known as Lyn y Van Vach. To the margin of this lake the shepherd of Myddvai once led his lambs, and lay there whilst they sought pasture. Suddenly, from the dark waters of the lake, he saw three maidens rise. Shaking the bright drops from their hair and gliding to the shore, they wandered about amongst his flock. They had more than mortal beauty, and he was filled with Jove for her that came nearest to him. He offered her thebread he had with him, and she took it and tried it, but then sang to him:

Hard-baked is thy bread,
’Tis not easy to catch me,

and then ran off laughing to the lake.

Next day he took with him bread not so well done, and watched for the maidens. When they came ashore he offered his bread as before, and the maiden tasted it and sang:

Unbaked is thy bread,
I will not have thee,

and again disappeared in the waves.

A third time did the shepherd of Myddvai try to attract the maiden, and this time he offered her bread that he had found floating about near the shore. This pleased her, and she promised to become his wife if he were able to pick her out from among her sisters on the following day. When the time came the shepherd knew his love by the strap of her sandal. Then she told him she would be as good a wife to him as any earthly maiden could be unless he should strike her three times without cause. Of course he deemed that this could never be; and she, summoning from the lake three cows, two oxen, and a bull, as her marriage portion, was led homeward by him as his bride.

The years passed happily, and three children were born to the shepherd and the lake-maiden. But one day here were going to a christening, and she said to her husband it was far to walk, so he told her to go for the horses.

“I will,” said she, “if you bring me my gloves which I’ve left in the house.”

But when he came back with the gloves, he found she had not gone for the horses; so he tapped her lightly on the shoulder with the gloves, and said, “Go, go.”

“That’s one,” said she.

Another time they were at a wedding, when suddenly the lake-maiden fell a-sobbing and a-weeping, amid the joy and mirth of all around her.

Her husband tapped her on the shoulder, and asked her, “Why do you weep?”

“Because they are entering into trouble; and trouble is upon you; for that is the second causeless blow you have given me. Be careful; the third is the last.”

The husband was careful never to strike her again. But one day at a funeral she suddenly burst out into fits of laughter. Her husband forgot, and touched her rather roughly on the shoulder, saying, “Is this a time for laughter?”

“I laugh,” she said, “because those that die go out of trouble, but your trouble has come. The last blow has been struck; our marriage is at an end, and so farewell.”

And with that she rose up and left the house and went to their home.

Then she, looking round upon her home, called to the cattle she had brought with her:

Brindle cow, white speckled,
Spotted cow, bold freckled,
Old white face, and gray Geringer,
And the white bull from the king’s coast,
Grey ox, and black calf,
All, all, follow me home,

Now the black calf had just been slaughtered, and was hanging on the hook; but it got off the hook alive and well and followed her; and the oxen, though they were ploughing, trailed the plough with them and did her bidding. So she fled to the lake again, they following her, and with them plunged into the dark waters. And to this day is the furrow seen which the plough left as it was dragged across the mountains to the tarn.

Only once did she come again, when her sons were grown to manhood, and then she gave them gifts of healing by which they won the name of Meddygon Myddvai, the physicians of Myddvai.
(Piero di Cosimo – Venus, Mars und Amor)

Let sorrowful longing dwell in your heart,
never give up, never losing hope.
The Beloved says, “The broken ones are My darlings.”
Crush your heart, be broken.
– Shaikh Abu Saeed Abil Kheir

The Essential

(Through the Fire Eye by MattTheSamurai)

Not only do beings and things have spirits that in turn take the forms of beings and things, but deeds, words, thoughts, and feelings also have spirits of their own. Thus it may happen that the soul of a beautiful deed may assume the form of an angel. – Sheikh Badruddin
We have been very busy; with clients and with the rushing of the world towards the Solstice, and just previous to that, Rowan, our son’s graduating from The Art Institute Of Portland.

I am very pleased for him, he has worked long and hard (and is still toiling away at this moment) on his thesis film (see below). Generally I would of seen a version of it by now, but it seems he is keeping it all under wraps until this Thursday when he premiers it with his fellow seniors films at The Hollywood Theater on 4122 N.E.Sandy Blvd in Portland at 7:00. Please come! It should be a fun evening, and it is free!
This Edition: I want to thank James Fadiman & Robert Frager for their Essential Sufism book. I especially want to thank James for his talks with me on Sufism when he visited us in Portland, and since. As I have studied Sufism over the years, I find that the poetry is perhaps the most vital part for me.

I have put in a couple of videos as well with Harold Budd along with John Foxx, and another with the wonderful Hector Zazou, now sadly past away.

The moving gif illustrations are by a young man, MattTheSamurai who seems to be a master in his own digital way. Other art is classic illustrations from Persia.
I hope you enjoy this edition as much as I had putting it together.

Life is hectic, but full of beauty. Here we are, ramping up to the Solstice, and about to start rocketing down slope. It happens so quickly.

Bright Blessings,
On The Menu:
Rowan’s Film Poster and Video Teaser
John Foxx & Harold Budd – You Again
Bayazid Bastami Quotes
Ahmad Jami’s Poetry
The Secret Rose Garden: Mahmud al Shabistari
Harold Budd & Hector Zazou – And Then She Stepped Aside

Rowan’s Film Poster and Video Teaser


Pelt – Teaser

John Foxx & Harold Budd – You Again

Bayazid Bastami Quotes:

“I never saw any lamp shining more brilliantly than the lamp of silence.”

Twelve years I have been smith of myself, until I have made of myself a clear mirror.

“I stood with the pious and I didn’t find any progress with them. I stood with the warriors in the cause and I didn’t find a single step of progress with them. Then I said, ‘O Allah, what is the way to You?’ and Allah said, ‘Leave yourself and come.”

“I went to a wilderness, love had rained and had covered earth, as feet penetrate snow, I found my feet covered with love.”

“The thing we tell of can never be found by seeking, yet only seekers find it.”
Ahmad Jami’s Poetry:

Who is man?
The reflection of the Eternal Light.

What is the world?
A wave on the Everlasting Sea.

How could the reflection be cut off from the Light?

How could the wave be separate from the Sea?

Know that this reflection and this wave are that very Light and Sea.

Your Beauty

Each who has seen Your beauty fine
Utters honestly, ‘I have seen the Divine.’

Everywhere Your lovers wait for grace,
Remove Your veil, reveal Your face!

I am in the ocean and an ocean is in me;
This is the experience of one who can see.

He that leaps into the river of Unity,
He speaks of union with his Beloved’s beauty.
Even from earthly love thy face avert not

Even from earthly love thy face avert not,
Since to the Real it may serve to raise thee.
Ere A, B, C are rightly apprehended,
How canst thou con the pages of thy Koran?
A sage (so heard I), unto whom a student
Came craving counsel on the course before him,
Said, “If thy steps be strangers to love’s pathways,
Depart, learn love, and then return before me!
For, shouldst thou fear to drink wine from Form’s flagon,
Thou canst not drain the draught of the Ideal.
But yet beware! Be not by Form belated:
Strive rather with all speed the bridge to traverse.
If to the bourne thou fain wouldst bear thy baggage,
Upon the bridge let not thy footsteps linger.”
The Idol

As long as one tress-lip
of the hair of your existence
still remains
I fear the Sect
of Self-worship
will survive.
You claim “I broke
the Idol of Illusion –
I’m liberated!”
but I fear
your Manifesto is itself
an idol.
“Hidden behind the veil of mystery, Beauty is eternally free from the slightest stain of imperfection. From the atoms of the world, He created a multitude of mirrors; into each one of them He cast the image of His Face; to the awakened eye, anything that appears beautiful is only a reflection of that Face.

Now that you have seen the reflection, hurry to its Source; in that primordial Light the reflection vanishes completely. Do not linger far from that primal Source; when the reflection fades, you will be lost in darkness. The reflection is as transient as the smile of a rose; if you want permanence, turn towards the Source; if you want fidelity, look to the Mine of faithfulness. Why tear your soul apart over something here one moment and gone the next? “

translation by Andrew Harvey and Eryk Hanut – ‘Perfume of the Desert’
The Secret Rose Garden: Mahmud al Shabistari

(Muhammad Zaman al-Tabrizi – A Landscape Scene with a Young Man and an Old Man)

“I” and “you” are but the lattices,
in the niches of a lamp,
through which the One Light shines.
“I” and “you” are the veil
between heaven and earth;
lift this veil and you will see
no longer the bonds of sects and creeds.
When “I” and “you” do not exist,
what is mosque, what is synagogue?
What is the Temple of Fire?

Behold how this drop of seawater
has taken so many forms and names;
it has existed as mist, cloud, rain, dew, and mud,
then plant, animal, and Perfect man;
and yet it was a drop of water
from which these things appeared.
Even so this universe of reason, soul, heavens, and bodies,
was but a drop of water in its beginning and ending.

…When a wave strikes it, the world vanishes;
and when the appointed time comes to heaven and stars,
their being is lost in not being

The chamber of your heart
Go sweep out the chamber of your heart.
Make it ready to be the dwelling place of the Beloved.
When you depart out,
He will enter it.
In you,
void of yourself,
will He display His beauties.

The tavern-haunter wanders alone in a desolate place,
seeing the whole world as a mirage.

The tavern-haunter is a seeker of Unity,
a soul freed from the shackles of himself.

Through the chamber of the heart is small,
it’s large enough for the Lord of both worlds
to gladly make His home there.
Harold Budd & Hector Zazou – And Then She Stepped Aside


O seeker, know that the path to Truth is within you. You are the traveler. Going happens by itself, Coming happens to you, without you. There is no arriving or leaving; nor is there any place; nor is there a contained within a container. Who is there to be with God? What is there other than God? Who seeks and finds when there is none but God? – Sheikh Badruddin

(Moving Stars – MattTheSamurai)

For Beauty

Beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying. –

I started a large article on Beauty from a link from Aloria Weaver, (A very talented young artist we are featuring in the next Invisible College Magazine) please see Roger Scruton – Why Beauty Matters (2009). That article did not make it into this post, but some musings from it do.

I am interested in how Beauty is perceived, and what is the basis of it. I have made a long study of the subject, and I am still puzzled by it’s effects. It seems all nature is cued to it, today I wandered with Mary through the gardening centre, and I found myself not drawn to flowers so much as buds. I was enthralled by the beauty of possibility and how it caught my eye. As I get older, I find myself drawn more to the world, not less. There is so much that is of such delight.

A most interesting subject, and I must admit it is subjective, as my selections are on it in this Turfing. I hope you enjoy this edition.

I dedicate this to the personification of Erato in my life, Mary for whom has ever urged me on to create, and bring beauty into the world.


On The Menu:
The Links
Beauty Quotes
Concierto de Aranjuez – John Williams
Yunus Emre: Poems
Roger Scruton – Why Beauty Matters (2009)
Beauty – Thomas Troward
Mozart – Requiem in D minor
Art – Mostly Cory Enoch (Some I couldn’t find sources for)
The Links:
Do Psychedelics Expand the Mind by Reducing Brain Activity?
How Neuroscientists and Magicians Are Conjuring Brain Insights
The Cursing Stone Of Canna
Beauty Quotes:
Beauty when most unclothed is clothed best. – PHINEAS FLETCHER, Sicelides

Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies. – JOHN DONNE, The Anagram

Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it. – CONFUCIUS

Beauty is the gift from God. – ARISTOTLE

For beauty being the best of all we know
Sums up the unsearchable and secret aims
Of nature. – ROBERT BRIDGES, The Growth of Love

It is amazing how complete is the delusion that beauty is goodness. – LEO TOLSTOY, The Kreutzer Sonata

Beauty is a terrible and awful thing! It is terrible because it has not been fathomed, for God sets us nothing but riddles. Here the boundaries meet and all contradictions exist side by side. – FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY, The Brothers Karamazov
(Mary my Muse introduced me to this piece of music early in our relationship. It has stayed a favourite for us. Please give it a listen!)
Concierto de Aranjuez – John Williams

Yunus Emre: Poems

A Single Word Can Brighten The Face

A single word can brighten the face
of one who knows the value of words.
Ripened in silence, a single word
acquires a great energy for work.

War is cut short by a word,
and a word heals the wounds,
and there’s a word that changes
poison into butter and honey.

Let a word mature inside yourself.
Withhold the unripened thought.
Come and understand the kind of word
that reduces money and riches to dust.

Know when to speak a word
and when not to speak at all.
A single word turns the universe of hell
into eight paradises.

Follow the Way. Don’t be fooled
by what you already know. Be watchful.
Reflect before you speak.
A foolish mouth can brand your soul.

Yunus, say one last thing
about the power of words –
Only the word “I”
divides me from God.

Ask Those Who Know

Ask those who know,
what’s this soul within the flesh?
Reality’s own power.
What blood fills these veins?

Thought is an errand boy,
fear a mine of worries.
These sighs are love’s clothing.
Who is the Khan on the throne?

Give thanks for His unity.
He created when nothing existed.
And since we are actually nothing,
what are all of Solomon’s riches?

Ask Yunus and Taptuk
what the world means to them.
The world won’t last.
What are You? What am I?
One Who Is Real Is Humble

To be real on this path you must be humble –
If you look down at others you’ll get pushed down the stairs.

If your heart goes around on high, you fly far from this path.
There’s no use hiding it –
What’s inside always leaks outside.

Even the one with the long white beard, the one who looks so wise –
If he breaks a single heart, why bother going to Mecca?
If he has no compassion, what’s the point?

My heart is the throne of the Beloved,
the Beloved the heart’s destiny:
Whoever breaks another’s heart will find no homecoming
in this world or any other.

The ones who know say very little
while the beasts are always speaking volumes;
One word is enough for one who knows.

If there is any meaning in the holy books, it is this:
Whatever is good for you, grant it to others too –

Whoever comes to this earth migrates back;
Whoever drinks the wine of love
understands what I say –

Yunus, don’t look down at the world in scorn –

Keep your eyes fixed on your Beloved’s face,
then you will not see the bridge
on Judgment Day.
(Thanks To Aloria Weaver For This!)
Roger Scruton – Why Beauty Matters (2009)

(The Hidden Power, by Thomas Troward [1921])


Do we sufficiently direct our thoughts to the subject of Beauty? I think not. We are too apt to regard Beauty as a merely superficial thing, and do not realise all that it implies. This was not the case with the great thinkers of the ancient world–see the place which no less a one than Plato gives to Beauty as the expression of all that is highest and greatest in the system of the universe. These great men of old were no superficial thinkers, and, therefore, would never have elevated to the supreme place that which is only superficial. Therefore, we shall do well to ask what it is that these great minds found in the idea of Beauty which made it thus appeal to them as the most perfect outward expression of all that lies deepest in the fundamental laws of Being. It is because, rightly apprehended, Beauty represents the supremest living quality of Thought. It is the glorious overflowing of fulness of Love which indicates the presence of infinite reserves of Power behind it. It is the joyous profusion that shows the possession of inexhaustible stores of wealth which can afford to be thus lavish and yet remain as exhaustless as before. Read aright, Beauty is the index to the whole nature of Being.

Beauty is the externalisation of Harmony, and Harmony is the co-ordinated working of all the powers of Being, both in the individual and in the relation of the individual to the Infinite from which it springs; and therefore this Harmony conducts us at once into the presence of the innermost undifferentiated Life. Thus Beauty is in most immediate touch with the very arcanum of Life; it is the brightness of glory spreading itself over the sanctuary of the Divine Spirit. For if, viewed from without, Beauty is the province of the artist and the poet, and lays hold of our emotions and appeals directly to the innermost feelings of our heart, calling up the response of that within us which recognises itself in the harmony perceived without, this is only because it speeds across the bridge of Reason with such quick feet that we pass from the outmost to the inmost and back again in the twinkling of an eye; but the bridge is still there and, retracing our steps more leisurely, we shall find that, viewed from within, Beauty is no less the province of the calm reasoner and analyst. What the poet and the artist seize upon intuitionally, he elaborates gradually, but the result is the same in both cases; for no intuition is true which does not admit of being expanded into a rational sequence of intelligible factors, and no argument is true which does not admit of being condensed into that rapid suggestion which is intuition. Thus the impassioned artist and the calm thinker both find that the only true Beauty proceeds naturally from the actual construction of that which it expresses. It is not something added on as an afterthought, but something pre-existing in the original idea, something to which that idea naturally leads up, and which pre-supposes that idea as affording it any raison d’être. The test of Beauty is, What does it express? Is it merely a veneer, a coat of paint laid on from without? Then it is indeed nothing but a whited sepulchre, a covering to hide the vacuity or deformity which needs to be removed. But is it the true and natural outcome of what is beneath the surface? Then it is the index to superabounding Life and Love and Intelligence, which is not content with mere utilitarianism hasting to escape at the earliest possible point from the labour of construction, as though from an enforced and unwelcome task, but rejoicing over its work and unwilling to quit it until it has expressed this rejoicing in every fittest touch of form and colour and exquisite proportion that the material will admit of, and this without departing by a hairbreadth from the original purpose of the design.

Wherever, therefore, we find Beauty, we may infer an enormous reserve of Power behind it; in fact, we may look upon it as the visible expression of the great truth that Life-Power is infinite. And when the inner meaning of Beauty is thus revealed to us, and we learn to know it as the very fulness and overflowing of Power, we shall find that we have gained a new standard for the guidance of our own lives. We must begin to use this wonderful process which we have learnt from Nature. Having learnt how Nature works–how God works–we must begin to work in like manner, and never consider any work complete until we have carried it to some final outcome of Beauty, whether material, intellectual, or spiritual. Is my intention good? That is the initial question, for the intention determines the nature of the essence in everything. What is the most beautiful form in which I can express the good I intend? That is the ultimate question; for the true Beauty which our work expresses is the measure of the Power, Intelligence, Love–in a word, of the quantity and quality of our own life which we have put into it. True Beauty, mind you–that which is beautiful because it most perfectly expresses the original idea, not a mere ornamentation occupying our thoughts as a thing apart from the use intended.

Nothing is of so small account but it has its fullest power of expression in some form of Beauty peculiarly its own. Beauty is the law of perfect Thought, be the subject of our Thought some scheme affecting the welfare of millions, or a word spoken to a little child. True Beauty and true Power are the correlatives one of the other. Kindly expression originates in kindly thought; and kindly expression is the essence of Beauty, which, seeking to express itself ever more and more perfectly, becomes that fine touch of sympathy which is artistic skill, whether applied in working upon material substances or upon the emotions of the heart. But, remember, first Use, then Beauty, and neither complete without the other. Use without Beauty is ungracious giving, and Beauty without Use is humbug; never forgetting, however, that there is a region of the mind where the use is found in the beauty, where Beauty itself serves the direct purpose of raising us to see a higher ideal which will thenceforward permeate our lives, giving a more living quality to all we think and say and do.

Seen thus the Beautiful is the true expression of the Good. From whichever end of the scale we look we shall find that they accurately measure each other. They are the same thing in the outermost and the innermost respectively. But in our search for a higher Beauty than we have yet found we must beware of missing the Beauty that already exists. Perfect harmony with its environment, and perfect expression of its own inward nature are what constitute Beauty; and our ignorance of the nature of the thing or its environment may shut our eyes to the Beauty it already has. It takes the genius of a Millet to paint, or a Whitman in words, to show us the beauty of those ordinary work-a-day figures with which our world is for the most part peopled, whose originals we pass by as having no form or comeliness. Assuredly the mission of every thinking man and woman is to help build up forms of greater beauty, spiritual, intellectual, material, everywhere; but if we would make something grander than Watteau gardens or Dresden china shepherdesses, we must enter the great realistic school of Nature and learn to recognise the beauty that already surrounds us, although it may have a little dirt on the surface. Then, when we have learnt the great principles of Beauty from the All-Spirit which is it, we shall know how to develop the Beauty on its own proper lines without perpetuating the dirt; and we shall know that all Beauty is the expression of Living Power, and that we can measure our power by the degree of beauty into which we can transform it, rendering our lives,

“By loveliness of perfect deeds,
More strong than all poetic thought.”
Mozart – Requiem in D minor