Friend
To anyone who understands: the sufi idea of Friend is something that someone who understands, will never allow into the grasp of idiots and see clearly that it cannot be penetrated by ordinary inquisitive or jealous minds. They will know because they have pursued it in their hearts, further than anyone would ever think an idea could. In that process they have realised some truth about the infinite depths of themselves, both its stunning majesty, created in them, and the terrible depths, of depravity and evil personified.
I think the Friend is someone who does something for you which you were not able to do yourself, you could not have comprehended, let alone deigned to ask, for such a blessing to be bestowed upon you. This is why it is not talked about much - it is too precious. The Friend, in the Sufi idea of the Friend, has to be pondered - its Journey in history, its Journey in language, its Journey in nature, its Journey in people, its falsity and truth on different peoples lips, and the feeling of its presence, and absence. It can't be understood without all of these.
Here is what Rumi has to say about it.
I saw the Friend clearly, and I stopped reading books and memorising poems. I quit going to church, and I quit fasting to be a better person. I quit worrying about when I should be praying. I saw how I was undisciplined and toxic. I saw how lovely and strong. No mercy for the drunk, a full sentence!
Let the beautiful one come out in fine clothes. Wind his hair into God's rope. Twist the braids into a cross for Christians to see. His light is better than the sun's. How could he have gotten so withered and weak? Now he jokes and pounds the table. He was wine under a lid, Joseph at the bottom of the well. Know yourself in the light of the true ones, as the ground sees its face in a garden, as rock knows it own secret put next to a ruby, iron next to polished steel. Come into existence.
Flies go round every pile of dung and finally out of that compost the Anya bird, the true man. When a person is born of this new moment, it does not wear off tomorrow. Sit with lovers and be useful. Don't wander away. Look, fish, at the ocean behind you. Go back where you came from, sea creature.
You hear the sound of water and you know where you want to be. Why wait? You've gone places you regret going, for money and such. Don't do that again. Water says, Live here. Don't carry me around in buckets and pans. False duties! Rest and be quiet.
If someone knew, why would they share with the likes of us!
Whilst writing this, someone drew my attention to this:
Cry Out in Your Weakness
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.