M6:2333 — خود ندارم هیچ به سازد مرا / که ز وهم دارم است این صد عنا

Translation: I have nothing of my own that might improve me, For these hundreds of afflictions come from my illusion of having. Meaning: A human being, at their core, possesses no inherent capacity or independent means to perfect themselves; every suffering and calamity that befalls them originates from the delusion of self-possession and reliance on their own being.

«I have nothing of my own that might improve me, / For these hundreds of afflictions come from my illusion of having.» This profound verse, spoken by a dervish, expresses a deep realization of his own existential poverty. I contend, without hesitation, that this is not merely an act of humility but an insight of profound discernment; an insight that Rumi emphasizes throughout the Masnavi, particularly in articulating the truth of human existence in relation to God.

The dervish here confesses to being 'nothing' (hīch). As Rumi himself explains in this chapter, when one is in a state of unconsciousness and sleep, one is 'nothing,' and in wakefulness, one is caught in a 'tangle' (pīch) of worldly concerns: «Do not add more 'nothing' to this 'nothing,' / Do not bestow the name of 'fortune' upon such a 'tangle.'» So, what does one possess of one's own that could construct or order oneself? Nothing! The human being is an empty-handed entity, an empty vessel that can only await being filled. This is the inherent creaturely impotence before the Creator.

The hundreds of pains and afflictions that beset him, these 'hundred woes,' arise not from blind fate, but from the illusion of 'having.' Humans imagine that they 'are' something, 'possess' something, 'have abilities,' and 'exercise free will.' It is this 'illusion of having' (wahm-i dāram) that creates suffering. Rumi explicitly clarifies: «He says, 'Since I have nothing, I only have the illusion of having.'» This claim of ownership and independence is, in reality, a veil that distances us from our true existential reality. Our suffering stems from claiming to possess what we, in fact, do not.

This insight echoes a deeper concept within the Masnavi, where Rumi uses the analogy of 'Alif' and 'Mīm' (the first two letters of the word 'Umm' - mother). 'Alif,' which has no dots or diacritics, proudly and 'bullyingly' (nergedā-ī) considers itself strong; this stems from its heedlessness. But 'Mīm,' which is constricted and sorrowful (deltang), is aware of its weakness and poverty, and this is the very essence of 'wisdom' (āqilī). The dervish here sees himself in the position of 'Mīm,' not in the illusion of 'Alif,' which, due to ignorance and heedlessness, claims independence and possession. Wisdom, then, lies in the awareness of one's intrinsic poverty and lack.

This is not determinism, but an understanding of God's absolute might (jabbārīyat). If one looks at oneself, one finds oneself utterly helpless before the divine will and creation. If it were up to us, as the verses continue, we would have created ourselves in the best possible manner, avoided suffering, and been free from worries: «Had I any will or skill of my own, / My will and planning would be by my own command.» But this is not the case. The only path, then, is to abandon this 'illusion of having' and turn to the 'true possession' that comes from the Divine Presence. This verse, in essence, is a humble prayer for the bestowal of 'true possession' in contrast to the 'illusion of having,' illustrating the fundamental principle of 'existential poverty' (iftiqār) and 'richness through God' (ghinā bi'llāh).

Key takeaways

• Human truth is inherent poverty and emptiness, not possession or independence.
• Human sufferings and problems stem from the 'illusion of having' and claiming independence from God.
• Recognizing one's own weakness and poverty is the beginning of reason and insight.
• Human perfection lies in surrender to divine will and seeking 'true possession' from God.
• Rumi emphasizes that our existence is like an empty box, gaining meaning only when filled by the Divine.