M6:2298 — خود نه من می‌مانم و نه آن هنر / تن چو مرداری فتاده بی‌خبر

Translation: Khwad na man mīmānam u na ān honar; Tan cho mardārī futāda bī-khabar.

(Neither the self remains, nor that skill; The body, like a corpse, lies unconscious.)

Meaning: This verse depicts the state of sleep, where one's individual identity and acquired abilities vanish, and the physical body becomes an unaware, lifeless form.

This verse delves into one of Rumi's most profound insights: the inherent discontinuity of existence. Unlike thinkers who posit natural causality and continuous progression in worldly events, Rumi contends that the chain of causality is always vertically and directly connected to God, and at every moment, a new creation is underway. What phenomenon could illustrate this truth more clearly than sleep?

As Rumi states elsewhere, in sleep, we become like envelopes from which their letters have been extracted. Each night, our strategies and our accumulated thoughts and skills—the very 'letters' of our being—depart. The verse declares unequivocally: "Neither the self remains, nor that skill" (khwad na man mīmānam u na ān honar); meaning, neither our individual 'self' nor the abilities and talents acquired during wakefulness persist. The body, too, becomes "a corpse, lying unconscious" (tan cho mardārī futāda bī-khabar), like an empty, lifeless vessel from which awareness and vitality have departed.

This imagery reflects the Ash'arite doctrine of 'occasionalism,' which held that there is no inherent necessity in the link between natural causes and effects; it is God who establishes this connection at every moment. I have often compared this perspective to early 20th-century positivism, which argued that we have no right to assert identity or continuity for phenomena our senses do not perceive. For instance, when salt dissolves in water and disappears from our sight, we cannot definitively say it is the 'same' salt that reappears after the water evaporates; we can only say salt dissolved, and another salt appeared. Rumi, here, suggests that what transpires in our sleep is a form of ontological discontinuity. It is in such instances that I affirm Rumi, in many ways, was a Kantian philosopher before Kant himself.

Yet, divine grace and wisdom ensure that in the morning, the 'whale' of night 'vomits' forth what it consumed, returning the same 'letters' to the same 'envelopes.' Yesterday's goldsmith is still a goldsmith today, and the blacksmith remains a blacksmith. This return to being is not due to natural necessity but to divine mercy and care. We are "rescued like Jonah from the whale's belly" (rusta cho Yūnus zi me'da ān nahang) and once again spread forth into the world of "scent and color" (bū u rang). Night, in this view, is not merely the annihilator of our apparent existence but a treasure of mercy laid within the heart of the 'fearsome night' (layl-i wahsh); a bounty for the renewal of spirit and body.

This experience of temporary annihilation in sleep teaches us not to fear the 'darkness' (ẓulumāt). When we know that even in the deepest blackness of night and in utter unconsciousness, a hand nourishes us and lays a treasure of mercy, we no longer fear taking risks or stepping into life's obscurities. For dread and fear arise from loneliness and helplessness, and Rumi demonstrates that even in the most profound state of unawareness, in the presence of the Eternal Beloved, we are never alone. This is a great lesson against existentialist philosophies that deem loneliness and solitude the inescapable fate of humanity; Rumi, in every verse, proclaims unity and the singular Presence.

Key takeaways

• Sleep symbolizes the temporary annihilation of the 'self' (man) and its 'skills' (honar), representing individual identity and abilities.
• The body in sleep is likened to an unconscious corpse, signifying the departure of awareness and vitality.
• Rumi uses this verse to explain the discontinuity of natural causality; God is the direct source of all connections, not material necessities.
• Night and darkness, despite their fearsome appearance, inwardly hold a treasure of divine mercy and an opportunity for rejuvenation and peace.
• The experience of temporary annihilation in sleep teaches humanity not to fear darkness or unawareness when in the presence of the Eternal Beloved; one is never truly alone.
• Rumi's view on the non-necessity of natural laws foreshadows Kantian ideas regarding the limitations of human knowledge.