What I learned by visiting Shams-i-Tabrizi today in Konya

I was thinking about my life, what I have learned, what relationships I have cultivated and nurtured in my days here on the planet, and I wanted to do something to develop myself. Near our home is the resting place of Shams-i-Tabrizi, the illuminator of Mevlana Jalalluddin Rumi. Recently I began a study of his works, and was touched by his mention that not many people understood his methods, despite the fact that so many were attracted to his most famous student. I understand the process of not wanting to be the center of attention, but still desiring to elevate one's own understanding, and that of one's beloveds.

I sat quietly outside his turbeh (tomb), even walked around it to be closer to the actual resting place, and said a short prayer, giving thanks to being close to the echo of one who set aflame the spirit of another who is still so highly valued by so many hearts of this world. Mevlana Caddessi (street) is famous here, but not as many tourists come to visit Shams, and perhaps that is what he would want, not craving the attention of the multitude, and perhaps not wanting to deal with them, if the book I am reading is true. After my short meditation two elder men came by to shake my hand. First one, "As salaam alaikum," and my response. A smile, then -- "Dua?" <"Prayer"?> I nodded, and he put his hand to his heart and bowed. I mirrored the smile, the sentiment, and the gesture. Later, another elder, with cane, softly stepped by. "As salaam alaikum," and a smile, and the gesture so familiar to me, the hand over the heart. It is nice to be in a place that I can move the way I have always moved, and see it offered back to me without any thoughts of how unusual it looked (in the West, people think my greeting is too formal and affected, but that is just what I have always done. Perhaps part of my DNA has passed through here, centuries ago, and my atavism is more comfortable in this place.

I didn't want to go inside at the time, it was prayer time and it was (to my surprise) busy with the movement of local people. But it was comforting just to be in the presence of the echo of Shams, whose works still move the masses, but quietly, in the personage of Mevlana, who loved him so.

For my part, I learned I like the quiet as well, and the company of those who understand me and love me. So I write this to you who do, and I offer my gratitude and a smile, and a hand over my heart. Thank you so much.