M6:3909 — از نوایت گوش یاران بود خوش / دست بیرون آر و گوش خود بکش

Translation: The ears of companions were pleased by your tune; Now reach out and pull your own ear. Meaning: This verse addresses those who, through their words and knowledge, delighted and advised others, but neglected themselves. Rumi calls upon them to now turn their counsel inward and engage in profound self-reflection.

I perceive in this verse Rumi's sharp and poignant address to the eloquent and the teachers—those who have delighted the ears of others with the pleasing melody of their words and knowledge, yet have themselves remained untouched by this bountiful spread. Rumi proclaims: "The ears of companions were pleased by your tune; / Now reach out and pull your own ear." This means, enough of discoursing for the masses! Now it is your turn to become your own audience, to bring yourself to your natural state, and prepare an ear for your own being. This act of "pulling one's ear" symbolizes an internal rebuke, a self-initiated and painful awakening. We find this same sentiment echoed in earlier verses: "O tongue, you who advised everyone, now it's your turn, why are you silent?" or "When you were the cure for others' pain, now pain visits you, and you're silent?"

Here, Rumi unequivocally assails philosophers and jurists. In the precious words of the late Dr. Seyyed Ja'far Shahidi, whose memory I hold dear and who was a mentor and father figure to me, many of these intellectual achievements are mere "weaving" (baafandegi). He observed, and taught me, that philosophers spent fifty precious years of their lives weaving the intricate threads of complex concepts and grand intellectual systems; systems that appear glorious and dazzling, but inwardly are like a magnificent mansion with blinding lights—you enter, become dizzy from the glare, yet the house is empty. They are devoid of the authentic essence of self-knowledge and inner transformation. Rumi asks: "You wove for fifty years with such awareness / Now wear a broad garment from your own fabric." After all that weaving, what garment have you sewn for yourself? As the famous proverb goes, "You grazed so much, where's your fat?" What practical, internal benefit has all this discourse and argumentation yielded for your own being?

This critique is immensely vital and foundational. The ultimate goal of all sciences and knowledge is, in the end, the elevation of the human self. Rumi reiterates countless times that "The soul of all sciences is this, this: / That you know who I am on the Day of Judgment." Meaning, the very essence of all knowledge lies in attaining self-knowledge. If you know everything but lose yourself; if you show the way to all, but yourself wander astray, then you have suffered a loss. This is precisely the "loss" and "misfortune" that the Quran speaks of: "Indeed, mankind is in loss." This verse invites us to recognize that in the game played on the board of existence, "Now it is your turn to bring yourself to your nature and joy"—it is time to restore yourself to your true nature and joy, and instead of boasting to others, to listen to yourself and refine your own being.

Key takeaways

• A call for self-knowledge and self-criticism, rather than merely preaching to others.
• A profound critique of knowledge for its own sake, and of theoretical 'weaving' that fails to lead to inner transformation.
• The imperative to apply knowledge and wisdom to one's own life, not just in sermons and speeches.
• The danger of losing oneself in the clamor of intellectual pride and advising others.
• The ultimate purpose of all sciences is the attainment of self-knowledge.