Jalal ad-Din Muhammad Rumi, the 13th-century Persian poet and Sufi mystic, crafted words that echo through the centuries, touching hearts with their profound simplicity and depth. His poetry, particularly the Masnavi, explores the human soul’s journey through love, loss, and divine yearning. In a recent YouTube video, Arasp Kazemian, known as Araspus, delves into Rumi’s verses, unpacking their meaning with a blend of personal insight and cultural context. This article draws inspiration from his commentary, focusing on three timeless themes: loneliness, love, and the human condition. We’ll explore a Persian idiom, critique the concept of energy, and dive into Rumi’s embrace of all people—happy and unhappy alike—while offering practical ways to apply his wisdom today.

The Persian Idiom: Lessons from the Impolite

A Cultural Gem

Araspus opens his video with a striking Persian idiom: “How did you learn to be polite? From impolite people.” This saying flips conventional wisdom on its head, suggesting that even those we might shun—rude, unhappy, or “bad” individuals—have something valuable to teach us. Politeness, it implies, isn’t born in a vacuum of kindness but forged through encounters with its opposite.

Learning from All Encounters

This idea aligns with Rumi’s philosophy of universal acceptance. Every person, regardless of their demeanor, offers a mirror to our own character. The impolite test our patience, teaching us resilience and grace. In a world quick to categorize people as “good” or “bad,” this idiom invites us to pause and reconsider. Could the unhappy colleague or the grumbling stranger be a hidden teacher? Rumi would say yes, and this perspective sets the stage for his broader teachings on embracing all humanity.

Energy: A Misunderstood Metaphor

Beyond Positive and Negative Labels

Araspus challenges the popular buzzwords “positive energy” and “negative energy,” often tossed around in self-help circles. He argues that energy, scientifically speaking, is tied to mass—think Einstein’s E=mc2 E = mc^2 E=mc2—not emotions. When we say someone gives us “bad energy,” we’re not describing a physical force but a feeling. “Frequency moves the molecules in the air,” he explains, noting that even harsh words carry energy in a literal sense, yet their impact is emotional, not material.

Reframing Energy as Feeling

This critique is refreshing in its clarity. Instead of rejecting people for their “negative energy,” Araspus suggests we focus on how they make us feel. “I talk with a person and then I have a good feeling, or I have a bad feeling,” he says. This shift from abstract energy to tangible emotion opens a door to Rumi’s approach: rather than pushing people away, we can engage with them, understanding that feelings—good or bad—are part of the human experience. This reframing dismantles the impulse to isolate ourselves from “bad” people, aligning with Rumi’s inclusive ethos.

Rumi’s Verse: Crying with Every Crowd

The Verse Unveiled

Araspus shares a poignant translation of Rumi’s verse from the Masnavi:

“I every company I uttered my faithful notes, I consorted with the unhappy and with them that rejoice.”
In Persian: “من به هر جمعیتی نالان شدم – جفت بدحالان و خوش حالان شدم”
(Translation: “I cried with every crowd of people, I became coupled with the unhappy and the happy.”)

In plain terms, Rumi declares he has shared tears with all—happy, unhappy, good, bad. The ney (reed flute), whose mournful sound opens the Masnavi, symbolizes this universal lament, a cry that binds humanity in shared vulnerability.

Hidden Sadness in Joy

Araspus interprets this to mean that even happy people harbor sadness. “They tend to be happy in order to fight with the sadness that they have in their mind,” he suggests, linking this to mental health. This resonates deeply: how often do we mask our struggles with a smile? Rumi’s insight cuts through the façade, urging us to see the fragility beneath. Happy people might laugh to cope, while unhappy ones, as Araspus notes, “understand more about the fragility of the world.” Both states teach us something essential about life’s impermanence.

Embracing All as Teachers

Rumi doesn’t just observe—he engages. “I learned from all of them,” Araspus emphasizes. By sitting with both the joyful and the sorrowful, Rumi finds wisdom in their duality. This isn’t passive tolerance but active connection, a willingness to cry alongside others and grow through their experiences. For us, it’s a call to stop judging and start listening, recognizing that every soul carries lessons.

Loneliness: The Solitary Heart

The Inescapable Truth

Araspus introduces another verse:

“Everyone became my friend from his own opinion; none sought out my secrets within me.”
In Persian: “هر کسی از ظن خود شد یار من – از درون من نجست اسرار من”
(Translation: “Each person became my companion based on their own view; none explored the secrets within me.”)

Here, Rumi reveals a stark reality: even in friendship, we remain alone. Others see us through their own lenses, rarely piercing the veil of our inner world. “You are alone in this world,” Araspus says, “and you have to embrace this loneliness because no one else can understand you.”

Embracing Solitude

This loneliness isn’t a curse but a fact of existence. Rumi’s poetry often circles back to this theme, portraying the soul as a solitary wanderer seeking the divine. The ney’s wail, which Araspus highlights, mirrors this isolation—a sound of longing and beauty born from separation. Yet, Rumi transforms this solitude into a strength. By accepting it, we free ourselves from the illusion that others can fully know us, turning inward to find peace.

A Modern Echo

In today’s hyper-connected yet often shallow digital age, Rumi’s words hit hard. Social media floods us with “friends,” yet true understanding remains elusive. Embracing loneliness, as Araspus suggests, means owning our narrative, finding solace in our own company, and seeking deeper connections beyond surface-level chatter.

Love: The Thread That Binds

Beyond the Transcript

While the transcript focuses on loneliness and human connection, love is the heartbeat of Rumi’s work. Though not explicitly detailed here, Araspus hints at it with his playlist reference to “loneliness and love, the true love.” For Rumi, love transcends romance—it’s a cosmic force uniting humanity and the divine. His famous line, “Beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there,” captures this boundless love.

Love as Acceptance

Rumi’s embrace of all people reflects this love. By crying with both happy and unhappy souls, he loves them not for what they offer but for who they are—flawed, fragile, divine. This love heals, as seen in another quote: “The wound is the place where the Light enters you.” Our pain, shared with others, becomes a conduit for connection and growth.

A Universal Call

In a polarized world, Rumi’s love challenges us to bridge divides. It’s not about agreeing with everyone but seeing their humanity. This universal love, rooted in empathy, transforms loneliness into a shared journey toward something greater.

Applying Rumi’s Wisdom Today

Mental Health and Connection

Araspus ties Rumi’s teachings to mental well-being: “When you help that person, you will achieve something and it helps you improve your mental health.” Helping others, he argues, fosters a “good feeling inside your soul.” Modern science backs this—studies show altruism boosts happiness and reduces stress. Volunteering at a charity, as Araspus suggests, or simply listening to a struggling friend can lift both their spirits and ours.

Practical Steps

• Engage with All: Next time you meet someone “unhappy,” resist the urge to pull away. Ask, “What can I learn here?”
• Help Others: Donate time or resources to a cause. The act of giving, as Araspus notes, heals the giver too.
• Reflect on Loneliness: Journal about your own solitude. What does it teach you about yourself?
• Practice Self-Reliance: “You are the only person who can help yourself,” Araspus says. Balance seeking support with building inner strength.

The Power of Responsibility

Araspus underscores personal agency: “No one cares about you… you are the only person who is responsible for yourself.” This isn’t cynicism but empowerment. Others may help for their own peace of mind, but lasting change comes from within. Rumi’s stories, as Araspus promises, offer tools to navigate this journey.

Conclusion: The Music of the Soul

Rumi’s verses, paired with the haunting melody of Mohammad Reza Shajarian’s ney, weave a tapestry of sorrow and beauty. “I cried with every crowd,” he sings, a lament that Araspus calls “a collocation between sadness and enjoyment.” This duality defines the human condition—alone yet connected, wounded yet whole. By embracing all people, accepting our loneliness, and loving beyond boundaries, we echo Rumi’s wisdom. Eight centuries later, his voice remains a guide, urging us to find meaning in every tear and every smile.