LIVE, LEARN, & LOVE SERIES #105. A Lesson Before Dying (novel by Ernest J. Gaines)

Do you take delight in watching films, listening to pop music, or reading books? For English learners, movies, songs, and books are one of the most wonderful sources to explore the language! You can indulge in your favorite pastime and still learn some expressions, words of wisdom, and oftentimes good lessons while you’re at it.

 

#105. A Lesson Before Dying (novel by Ernest J. Gaines)

This story takes us into a small Cajun community in the late 1940s, where racism, injustice, and human dignity shape the lives of two men. Jefferson, a young Black man wrongly caught up in a liquor-store shooting, is sentenced to death. Grant Wiggins, a teacher who has returned home, is encouraged to visit Jefferson and help him rediscover his dignity and sense of worth.

Through their growing bond, both men learn that true courage can be found in resisting the roles society expects them to accept. Ernest J. Gaines reminds us that even in the face of injustice, education, compassion, and human connection can become powerful forms of resistance.

 

“Gentlemen of the jury, be merciful. For God’s sake, be merciful. He is innocent of all charges brought against him. But let us say he was not. Let us for a moment say he was not. What justice would there be to take this life? Justice, gentlemen? Why, I would just as soon put a hog in the electric chair as this. I thank you, gentlemen, from the bottom of my heart, for your kind patience. I have no more to say, except this: We must live with our own conscience. Each and every one of us must live with his own conscience.”

ð     This is the opening courtroom scene of this story where it feels like a window into the dark heart of the Jim Crow era. Jefferson’s lawyer stands before an all-white jury, not to prove his client’s innocence, but to plead for his life by comparing him to a “hog” in the electric chair.

The words are painful because they reveal how deeply racism can strip a person of his humanity. Jefferson is not simply fighting a death sentence; he is fighting to be seen as a human being with dignity and worth. Through this haunting scene, the author leaves us with a question that lingers long after the courtroom falls silent: How do we hold on to our humanity when the world tries to take it away?

 

(Grant Wiggins said to his students at church): “Do you know what his Nannan wants me to do before they kill him? The public defender called him a hog, and she wants me to make him a man. Within the next few weeks, maybe a month, whatever the law allows – make him a man. Exactly what I’m trying to do here with you now: to make you responsible young men and young ladies.”

ð     Grant Wiggins is sick and tired of the racism that reaches beyond the courtroom and into the human soul. Jefferson has been sentenced to death, but the deeper injustice is the way society has taught him to see himself—as less than human. When his lawyer calls him a “hog,” Jefferson carries those words into his prison cell. Miss Emma, his godmother, refuses to let that dehumanizing label become his identity. She cannot save his life, but she is determined to help him die knowing that he is a man—with dignity, courage, and self-respect.

As a schoolteacher, Grant Wiggins is struggling with his own doubts, begins to understand that Jefferson’s fate is not his alone. The same society that has broken Jefferson is waiting for the next generation. Teaching his students, therefore, becomes more than teaching them to read and write. It becomes a quiet form of resistance—a way of helping them recognize their own worth in a world that constantly tells them otherwise.

 

(conversation between Grant Wiggins and his former high school teacher Matthew Antoine): “My only choice is to run, then?” I asked him. “That was your choice. But you won’t. You want to prove I’m wrong. Well, you’ll visit my grave one day and tell me how right I was.” “Tell me more,” I said. “What’s wrong with that university?” he asked. “Don’t they tell you?” “They tell me how to succeed in the South as a colored man. They tell me about reading, writing, and arithmetic. I need to know about life.” “You have to go away to know about life. There’s no life here. There’s nothing but ignorance here.”

ð     Grant visits his dying mentor and former high school teacher, Antoine, hoping for guidance. Instead, Antoine bitterly challenges the value of Grant’s university education, suggesting that it has taught him little more than how to survive as a colored man—not how to truly understand life. His bleak words echo the suffocating reality of the Jim Crow South and mirror Grant’s own growing struggle between escaping oppression and finding the courage to face it. 

 

(Grant Wiggins said to Jefferson in the prison) “Those out there are no better than we are, Jefferson. They are worse. That’s why they are always looking for a scapegoat, someone else to blame. I want you to show them the difference between what they think you are and what you can be. You can prove them wrong. I have always done what they wanted me to do, teach reading, writing, and arithmetic. Nothing else – nothing about dignity, nothing about identity, nothing about loving and caring. They never thought we were capable of learning things. I went along, but hating myself all the time for doing so.”

ð     Grant Wiggins begins to see Jefferson’s execution in a different light. What appears to be a tragic end can become an act of resistance—a final opportunity for Jefferson to reclaim the dignity that a racist system has tried to take from him. Grant tells Jefferson that the people who condemn him may be morally worse than the man they have labeled a criminal. By turning Jefferson into a scapegoat, they protect their own power and prejudice. Grant therefore asks him to show the world the difference between what others believe he is and what he can truly become.

But Grant’s words are also a confession. He realizes that his own education has been limited to teaching Black children how to survive—reading, writing, and arithmetic—rather than helping them discover their identity, dignity, potentials, and worth. His admission that he has lived with self-hatred reveals how deeply the system has wounded him as well. And this is where the novel’s title especially comes in to play. Grant thinks he is teaching Jefferson a lesson before Jefferson dies, but Jefferson is teaching Grant how to live. By choosing courage and dignity in the face of an unjust system, Jefferson may lose his life, but he refuses to let that system define who he is for good.

 

** Jean’s Small Thoughts:

While organizing my old bookshelf, I came across a book I had bought years ago. Rereading A Lesson Before Dying, I felt something I had almost forgotten—the quiet, painful question of how we can continue to live, and eventually die, with dignity.

What saddens me most is that racism is still not history. From Rodney King and Trayvon Martin to George Floyd, countless Black Americans have lost their lives in acts of racial discrimination and hatred carried out in broad daylight. Many celebrities and social media voices have called for us to continue the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. Yet, despite decades of sacrifice and struggle, racism still lingers in our society. We continue to witness, taste, smell, and feel its cruelty in many corners of the world.

Is racism something we are born with, or is it learned from the distorted lessons passed down by parents, grandparents, and society? Who gives anyone the right to judge another human being by race or ethnicity? Regardless of our social status or financial circumstances, perhaps the most powerful form of resistance is simply refusing to let others decide our worth. No one should lose their life because the color of their skin makes them appear threatening. No one should have to beg for breath beneath the weight of another person's prejudice.

For those who were never given the chance to defend themselves or die with dignity, Gaines’s novel continues to speak for them. It reminds us of the courage, compassion, and responsibility we owe one another—and of the kind of world we should leave for our children and grandchildren.

Grant’s former teacher may have good reason for his cynicism in this story, but cynicism cannot be the lesson we pass from one generation to the next. The final image of Grant crying should not have to remain our recurring nightmare. Perhaps the real lesson before dying is learning how to live with enough courage and compassion to make that nightmare disappear.

LIVE, LEARN, & LOVE SERIES #104. Nomad (authored by Ayaan Hirsi Ali)

Do you take delight in watching films, listening to pop music, or reading books? For English learners, movies, songs, and books are one of the most wonderful sources to explore the language! You can indulge in your favorite pastime and still learn some expressions, words of wisdom, and oftentimes good lessons while you’re at it.

 

#104. Nomad (authored by Ayaan Hirsi Ali)  

It is the powerful story of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a courageous African woman born into Islam whose journey became a testament to freedom, tolerance, multiculturalism, and the possibility of redemption. Her physical and emotional journey traces a dramatic transformation—from a tribal culture that restricted women’s thoughts and choices to life as a free and equal citizen in an open society.

 

“For a long time I teetered between the clear ideals of the Enlightenment that I learned about at university and my submission to the equally clear dictates of Allah that I feared to disobey. I never connected the dots – in fact I sought to avoid connecting the dots – so I could not see the connection between their belief in Islam and their poverty, between their religion and the oppression of women and the lack of free, individual choice.”

ð     The author reflects on the painful intellectual journey that led her to question the conservative Islamic beliefs of her upbringing. Caught between the ideals of the Enlightenment— e.g., reason, individual liberty, and free choice—and religious submission rooted in obedience and fear of God, she struggled to reconcile two conflicting worldviews. For years, she avoided “connecting the dots,” unwilling to confront the possibility that some religious traditions could contribute to real-world problems such as poverty, the oppression of women, and the restriction of individual freedom. Ultimately, journey reveals the difficult but transformative moment when a person stops avoiding uncomfortable questions and confronts the consequences of deeply held beliefs.

 

“There were many misunderstandings, expectations, and disappointments along the way, and I learned many lessons. I learned that it is one thing I say farewell to tribal life; it is quite another to practice the life of a citizen, which so many members of my family have failed to do. And they are by no means alone.”

ð     Ayaan Hirsi Ali reflects on her difficult journey from a world shaped by kinship, tradition, and collective identity to one built on individual freedom and personal responsibility. Leaving behind a tribal or nomadic past may seem like crossing a physical border, but learning to live as an independent citizen in a modern Western society can be a far more difficult journey.

For the author, saying goodbye to the past was not the same as escaping its influence. The expectations of family, clan, and tradition often continue to follow immigrants long after they arrive in a new country. A life once guided by dependency and collective loyalty must suddenly make room for independence, self-reliance, and the rule of law. Along the way come misunderstandings, disappointments, and the painful shock of discovering that changing one's surroundings does not automatically change one's way of thinking.

 

“Our two worlds, Sahra’s and mine, coexist in the same city streets, but one is framed above all by the oppression of individuals, especially women, and the other glorifies individuality. Can those two sets of values ever be reconciled within Sahra, between her and her daughter, or on the streets of European cities? Will she ever understand that home is where she is, instead of an imagined past in Somalia that is no longer even a whole country, riven as it is by war? For how long will Western societies, whose roots drink from the rational sources of the Enlightenment, continue to tolerate the spread of Sahra’s way of life, like ivy on their trunks, an alien and possibly lethal growth?”

ð     Seeing another Somali female immigrant named Sahra in the Western society, the author explores a profound collision between two worlds: one shaped by tradition, clan loyalty, and religious authority, and the other by individual freedom, liberal democracy, and Enlightenment ideals. Through her encounter with Sahra, Ayaan Hirsi Ali asks a haunting question: Can these deeply different visions of life truly coexist without one eventually transforming—or overwhelming—the other?

At the heart of the conflict lies the meaning of the individual. Sahra's world, as Ali portrays it, is shaped by collective expectations and traditions that can restrict personal freedom, while Western society places the individual at the center, celebrating independence, choice, and self-determination. Sahra's struggle is also the struggle of an immigrant caught between two homes. She clings to an imagined Somalia of memory and longing, unable—or unwilling—to accept that home may no longer be a place left behind, but the unfamiliar ground beneath her feet.

Ali then widens the lens beyond one woman's life to the future of Europe itself. Can these opposing values be reconciled between generations, between Sahra and her daughter, or in the streets and communities of a changing continent? Her metaphor of ivy climbing a Western tree leaves a particularly unsettling image in our mind. She warns that a way of life fundamentally at odds with individual liberty could slowly take root within liberal societies and, if left unquestioned, eventually weaken the very Enlightenment ideals that sustain them.

  

** Jean’s Small Thoughts:

Living as an immigrant often feels like standing somewhere between two worlds. At times, having two cultures enriches our lives, widening the horizon of our thoughts and experiences. Yet, just as often, those dual identities can make us pause in confusion before the invisible walls created by deeply rooted cultural differences.

While reading Nomad, I found myself thinking about my own life and many of my relatives who have lived in the United States for generations. Have we quietly reached the point of seamless assimilation into this new world? Or are we still drawn toward the culture and memories of our roots while trying to live as responsible citizens here and now?

In Nomad, the family's experience feels like part of a much larger human journey. Many immigrants discover that crossing a border is only the beginning. True integration requires an internal transformation—a willingness to examine deeply rooted assumptions while finding a delicate balance between one's cultural past and the responsibilities of individual citizenship. Transformation is rarely as simple as stepping into a new world. Sometimes the longest journey is not the one across an ocean or a border, but the quiet and difficult journey within ourselves.

Like the question Ayaan Hirsi Ali raises, I have often asked myself: When two civilizations meet, can they grow side by side, or will one quietly reshape the other? I am still waiting to see how history will answer that question. But one thing I know for certain is that my Korean identity has always held its place within me—whether I was living in a liberal city in California, a small Midwestern town in Illinois, or now in the conservative landscape of Texas. My surroundings have changed, but my roots have traveled with me.

The author also writes with tenderness about her grandmother, who lovingly helped raise her and her sister. Yet her affection is complicated. In her grandmother, Ali sees what she believes is one of the forces that keeps traditional tribal communities tied to the past. It frustrates her to watch her grandmother devote so much of her emotional life to memories of what she once knew rather than imagining what might still be possible.

Still, love does not disappear simply because we reject parts of the world that shaped us. Ali fiercely opposes the brutal practice of female genital mutilation, yet she can still remember her grandmother's care and warmth with tenderness. That emotional contradiction feels deeply human: we may reject the values or traditions of our past while continuing to love the people who carried those traditions into our lives.

Just as Ali, I hope that immigrants who have left behind cultures or experiences they could no longer accept may eventually find a window through which they can release the painful memories of the past. And perhaps, without forgetting where they came from, they can open themselves to the fresh air of the life unfolding before them—the life they are breathing, living, and shaping today.

Let's work on vocabulary!

Can you fill in the blanks below, using the given clues for each?

 

    1.   It is sad and frustrating that we see many Hollywood stars giving in to psy_____________ substances for a variety of reasons behind the curtain. (*meaning “a substance or experience that profoundly alters perception, mood, and cognitive processes, literally meaning "mind-manifesting”)

 

    2.   All presenters and scholars attending the conference were impressed by the keynote speaker’s emp____________ speech about ‘How to Live in Harmoney with AI systems. (*meaning “a neutral word that describes something done or expressed with strong force, clarity, or firmness, meaning it can be positive, negative, or completely neutral depending on the context”)

 

    3.   His mor_____________ idiolect of criticism about the movie left the film director and actors embarrassed and self-conscious. (*meaning “sharp/ scathing/ sarcastic”)

 

    4.   Janet turned her boyfriend’s lackluster room into a brighter space with ver_____________ flower arrangement. (*meaning “changeable in color”)

 

    5.   My father couldn’t stand the robu______________ group of my friends at my birthday party. (*meaning “rambunctious/ noisy/ boisterous/ rough”)

 

    6.   I would asse______________ (*meaning “to affirm or declare positively or earnestly”) that he is not that kind of person who betrays his true friends.

 

    7.   Hank was fl_____________ when he heard about his ex-wife who got married to a millionaire last week. (*meaning “shellshocked/ stunned/ freaked out”)

 

    8.   You can spot hundreds of playful, greg__________ sea lions lounging and barking along Pier 39 in Northern California. (*meaning “enjoying the company of others; marked by or showing a liking for companionship/ growing in a cluster”)

 

    9.   Most of the employees got the feeling there’d be another major reconstruction of the team, which made them q_______-quit at work. (*meaning “to do the minimum amount of work required for a job”)

 

    10. Since we live in the information age, we need to sharpen our media lit_________ skills to avoid getting trapped in online spaces that show us only one point of view. (*meaning “the ability to find, understand, evaluate, and create media content”)

 

 

Answer Keys

1.  psychedelic

2.  emphatic

3.  mordacious

4.  versicolor

5.  robustious

6.  asseverate

7.  floored

8.  gregarious

9.  quiet(ly)-quit

10.      (media) literacy

Time to play the SUNDAY PUZZLE from NPR!

I'm going to name some things. For each one you tell me something the thing has that starts with the same first two letters that the thing does.

Ex. TRee —> TRunk (A tree has a trunk, and both tree and trunk start with TR)

 

1. Dresser

 

2. Bird

 

3. Play

 

4. Stairway

 

5. Lettuce

 

6. Makeup kit

 

7. Skeleton

 

8. Week

 

9. Petunia

 

11. Rodeo

 

12. Pool table 

 

ANSWER KEYS

    1.  DRawer

    2.  BIll

    3.  Plot

    4.  STeps

    5.  LEaf

    6.  MAscara

    7.  SKull

    8.  WEdnesday

    9.  QUestion

    10.  PEtal

    11.  ROpe

    12.  POcket

LIVE, LEARN, & LOVE SERIES #103. The Devil All the Time (2020 film based on the novel by Donald Ray Pollock)

Do you take delight in watching films, listening to pop music, or reading books? For English learners, movies, songs, and books are one of the most wonderful sources to explore the language! You can indulge in your favorite pastime and still learn some expressions, words of wisdom, and oftentimes good lessons while you’re at it.

 

#103. The Devil All the Time (2020 film based on the novel by Donald Ray Pollock)

In the dark corners of rural Ohio and West Virginia, The Devil All the Time unfolds like a haunting nightmare from the end of World War II through the 1960s. A tormented war veteran, a dying wife, blood-soaked prayers, a murderous couple roaming America’s highways, a spider-handling preacher, and a fugitive guitarist all cross paths in a world filled with faith, violence, and madness. At the center stands Arvin Russell, an orphaned boy who grows into a man determined to protect those he loves—even if it means becoming violent himself. It is a chilling story where innocence and evil are never far apart.

 

(preacher Preston Teagardin said): “Delusions. People are full of 'em.”

ð   The corrupt preacher Preston Teagardin delivers his powerful “Delusions” sermon for reasons far darker than simply warning his congregation about sin. Behind his passionate words lies a calculated attempt to manipulate vulnerable people, protect himself from exposure, and maintain control. He is a sexual predator who hides behind his religious authority. By repeatedly teaching his congregation about “delusions,” he creates a convenient shield for himself. If one of his victims ever accuses him, he can simply dismiss her story as a sinful fantasy or a delusion. In a deeply religious community, his word is far more likely to be trusted than that of a vulnerable young girl.

In this respect, preacher Teagardin does not merely preach—he watches. By describing specific sins and personal weaknesses, he makes members of the congregation feel exposed. He can observe who becomes uncomfortable, ashamed, or emotionally shaken. Perhaps most disturbingly, Teagardin uses the idea of “delusion” to reverse blame. When Lenora confronts him about her pregnancy, he calls her crazy and delusional. Instead of accepting responsibility for his abuse, he convinces his victims that their suffering and confusion are the result of their own sinful thoughts and desires. Teagardin's sermon is therefore not simply a warning about sin.

 

(Narrator of the film about Sheriff Bodecker): “Bodecker believed that people were like dogs; once they start digging, they don’t wanna stop.”

ð    The narrator suggests that once people become obsessed with a secret, a clue, or an unanswered question, they often cannot stop searching—even when the truth may ultimately destroy them. That is, once people discover something suspicious, they cannot simply let it go. They tend to feel compelled to keep digging. The deeper they search, the more likely they are to uncover painful and dangerous truths. Like a dog following a scent or digging endlessly into the ground, human curiosity, guilt, and obsession can lead people toward their own destruction. In the movie, this narration reflects the dark world hidden beneath the seemingly quiet towns of Ohio and West Virginia. Beneath the surface lie secrets, corruption, violence, and sins that refuse to stay buried.

 

(Willard Russell said to his son Arvin): “The next time one of them starts this shit, I want you to finish it, you understand?... Just got to pick the right time."

ð    Willard Russell’s advice to his son Arvin shows that violence is not simply an act—it is an inheritance. Traumatized by the horrors of war and convinced that the world belongs to predators, Willard teaches his son not merely to defend himself, but to strike with patience, calculation, and overwhelming force. This lesson shapes Arvin into a morally complicated adult. He becomes a protector of the weak, yet he also inherits his father’s belief that violence is sometimes the only effective response to evil. In this way, The Devil All the Time presents generational trauma as a kind of curse: Willard tries to prepare his son to survive a cruel world, but in doing so, he passes his own darkness on to him. The tragedy—and irony—is that Arvin uses his father’s violent teachings to fight genuine predators and corruption, making him neither a simple hero nor a villain, but another damaged soul struggling to escape a cycle that began long before him.

 

(Narration of the film): “He came every morning and evening to talk to God. It seemed to his son that his father fought the Devil all the time.”

ð    As the narration reveals, to young Arvin, his father appears to be engaged in an endless private war—a war in which God offers no visible comfort and the Devil seems to be everywhere. Willard’s devotion is not presented as peaceful or spiritually uplifting at all. His prayers are compulsive, desperate, and increasingly consumed by fear. Haunted by the horrors he witnessed during World War II, he brings his trauma to the cross and attempts to transform prayer into a weapon against death itself. When Charlotte (i.e., Willard’s wife) becomes ill with cancer, Willard does not simply ask God for help; he seems to demand a miracle, bargaining with heaven through ritual and sacrifice. His faith becomes less an act of trust than a desperate struggle to control a universe that has already shown him unimaginable cruelty.

Arvin does not necessarily understand theology, but he understands suffering. To him, his father's constant kneeling, praying, drinking, and emotional torment look like combat. The Devil may be invisible, yet the damage caused by this spiritual battle is painfully real. Willard's religion does not shield his son from fear; it rather teaches him that the world is a place where evil is always lurking and must constantly be fought.

 

 

** Jean’s Small Thoughts:

This film left me feeling as though we are all walking on eggshells in today’s world, where the line between good and evil has become increasingly blurred. One question kept haunting me during and after the film: How can we tell someone who genuinely acts in good faith from someone who hides wicked and abusive intentions behind a respectable appearance. In many parts of the world, we continue to witness how predators can twist religion, language, and authority into instruments of manipulation—and how easily a trusted spiritual leader can conceal evil behind the appearance of righteousness.

The characters of the story are repeatedly pulled into the past, digging deeper into crimes and secrets they might have been better off leaving buried. But once the truth begins to surface, there is no turning back. Their search unleashes a bloody chain of events in which obsession, guilt, and violence draw them toward an almost unavoidable fate. What makes the film particularly disturbing is its portrayal of trauma disguised as conviction. Willard believes he is fighting evil, but he is also fighting his memories, grief, helplessness, and his inability to accept that prayer cannot always prevent tragedy. His war with the Devil is ultimately a war with himself—and tragically, his son Arvin inherits that battlefield.

After I watched this movie, I came to think about the different philosophies of Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X. If you were forced to choose between the two approaches, which would you support? Do you believe in MLK’s conviction that “darkness cannot drive out darkness” and that only light can overcome it? Or do you find some truth in Malcolm X’s willingness to pursue justice “by any means necessary”? Personally, I do not believe violence can truly solve our problems. At the same time, I question whether quietly and innocently standing aside can ever uproot the evil and injustice that remain deeply embedded in society. Perhaps confronting wrongdoing firmly and holding people accountable is necessary—not through violence, but by making it clear that manipulation, abuse, and deliberate wrongdoing will have consequences.

Additionally, this film brought to mind recent concerns surrounding possible connections between some politicians and Shincheonji, a controversial Christian new religious movement founded in South Korea in 1984 by Lee Man-hee. The name means “New Heaven and New Earth,” reflecting the group's apocalyptic interpretation of biblical prophecy. Critics have accused Shincheonji of being a high-control or cult-like organization, while the movement rejects such descriptions and considers itself a legitimate Christian church. I would be cautious about making accusations without credible evidence. Allegations of improper or illegal relationships between religious organizations and politicians must be investigated and proven rather than assumed. Still, I believe this is precisely why citizens should remain alert, questioning, and vigilant when religious authority, political power, and human vulnerability intersect. Blind trust can be dangerous.

Perhaps the most unsettling tragedy in the film is that Arvin inherits his father's battlefield. Willard's religious obsession and violent worldview teach his son that goodness is fragile, evil is everywhere, and survival may require fighting back. His desperate attempt to defeat darkness does not die with him; it quietly passes into the next generation.

In that sense, The Devil All the Time suggests that faith is not always a sanctuary. Sometimes it becomes another battlefield where wounded people struggle to understand a world that refuses to explain its cruelty. And perhaps that is what troubles me most. The film does not offer an easy answer about where we should begin. It leaves us with an uncomfortable question: How do we confront evil without becoming the very thing we are fighting against? Maybe that is where real change has to begin—not with hatred or violence, but with the courage to recognize evil, question authority, protect the vulnerable, and refuse to remain silent when something is fundamentally wrong. Even if it feels confusing, I hope we are not willingly put our own heads into evil’s noose while trying to fight it.

LIVE, LEARN, & LOVE SERIES #102. Rumi’s Little Book of Life: The Garden of the Soul, the Heart, and the Spirit

Do you take delight in watching films, listening to pop music, or reading books? For English learners, movies, songs, and books are one of the most wonderful sources to explore the language! You can indulge in your favorite pastime and still learn some expressions, words of wisdom, and oftentimes good lessons while you’re at it.

 

#102. Rumi’s Little Book of Life: The Garden of the Soul, the Heart, and the Spirit (translated by Maryam Mafi and Azima Meita Kolin)

Rumi, born with his original name Jalal al-Din Muhammad Rumi, was a famous 13th-century Persian poet, Islamic scholar, and Sufi mystic.

Born in 1207 in Central Asia, he spent most of his life in Anatolia, which explains the name “Rumi,” meaning “Roman.” His life changed dramatically when he met the wandering mystic Shams Tabrizi, inspiring him to explore spiritual love and poetry. Through his poetry, Rumi takes us on a journey of self-discovery, helping us appreciate who we are and the beauty of being part of the universe.

 

“Separation bends the back of hope

Cruelty ties the hands of longing

yet the lover never despairs.

For a committed heart

everything is possible.”

ð     Being apart from someone we love can make hope feel heavy, fragile, and sometimes meaningless. It is simply because pain and obstacles may prevent us from following our deepest desires. But a devoted heart continues to hope, even in the darkest moments of our lives. Genuine love and determination can overcome even the greatest obstacles. No matter how much pain and hardship may test us, they cannot easily defeat a heart filled with true love, devotion, and hope.

 

“If you only knew what bliss I found in being nothing

   you would not advise me how to live.

When the sword of nothingness ends my life

    I will laugh at those who mourn my death.”

ð     This poem is telling us about how we could find genuine peace. When the ego or selfish desires die, the fear of physical death loses its power. Rumi sees ‘death’ as some kind of a joyful return to the divine source. That is, when we finally stop worrying about wealth, status, and others’ opinions, we can discover a deeper sense of peace in this life. Rumi suggests that people often give advice based on worldly fears, but spiritual joy lies beyond material concerns.

 

“One early morning in the garden I picked a flower

     The Gardener suddenly appeared and I panicked.

    “Why worry about a flower, when I have given you the entire Garden!”  “

ð     This poem reminds us that we often focus too much on small desires, trivial mistakes, or temporary possessions of ours to care the infinite love and abundance of the Divine. Instead of worrying about our small flaws or attachments, we can trust in a greater love and appreciate the vast beauty and abundance that surrounds us.

 

“Heart, be considerate

     Soul, be tolerant

Patience, run if you cannot bear grief

Reason, go and play your childish games.”

ð     This poem lets us see that deep emotional pain can be too overwhelming for logic, reason, or even patience to handle. Sometimes, the only way to survive grief or sorrow in life is through gentleness, surrender, and simply allowing ourselves to feel. Be kind to yourself while carrying the pain and try to endure the sorrow without letting it break you. When the burden or sadness feel unbearable, it is okay to let go rather than force yourself to remain strong. Logic cannot always make sense of deep sorrow. Sometimes, we simply need to feel and accept it.

 

“When you bury your secret deep in your heart

    your wish will come through more quickly.

     The secret of seeds buried in the ground

        Manifest in the flourishing garden.

         If gold and silver were not hidden

          how could they age in the mine?”

ð     In this poem, we learn that sometimes, the best way to nurture a dream is to keep it quietly in our hearts until the right time comes to let it bloom. Keeping our dreams and intentions private can give them time and space to grow stronger before we share them with the world. Like a seed growing quietly beneath the soil, our dreams need time to develop before they bloom. It is probably because revealing our plans too soon can distract us or weaken our focus.  Just as gold and silver gain their value deep within the earth, our dreams can become stronger and more meaningful through time, patience, and perseverance.

 

** Jean’s Small Thoughts:

Reading it piece by piece, page by page, I felt as though I had received a precious gift—one I could return to throughout my life as a guide to finding peace within. Rumi’s poems offer food for thought, not as lessons to teach or enlighten us, but as gentle companions for soothing and searching the soul. This collection captures Rumi’s timeless message through a few powerful themes: peace, love, unity, and respect.

As a lifelong worrywart, I have come to realize that true peace begins when we let go of our false identities, attachments, and egos. Freedom comes from recognizing that we are part of something greater than ourselves. Otherwise, we risk becoming puppets or avatars, controlled by illusions created by forces we may not even recognize unless we stay strongly impervious to what is going on in this world. It must be miserable to quietly quit life by becoming what the world expects us to be. I believe we become truly ourselves when we break free from the illusions of this world.

When it comes to love, as Rumi describes in his poems, it is the deepest force in life that already lives within us. We do not need to search for love outside ourselves. Love in our hearts is waiting for us to remove the walls of fear, anger, and ego. True love goes beyond logic and transforms us by teaching us to surrender, accept both joy and pain, and recognize our profound connection with everything around us. Furthermore, when grief becomes too heavy, we don't always need answers or explanations. Sometimes, we simply need to be gentle with ourselves and let the pain pass through us, hoping it won’t pass like a kidney stone, though.

If people today truly lived by Rumi’s spirit and teachings, perhaps there would be far fewer wars and divisions. Rumi reminds us that everything comes from one divine source and that the boundaries between people, religions, and nations are ultimately illusions. Like drops of water returning to the same ocean, we are all part of a greater spiritual unity. We may appear separate, but deep down, we are invisibly connected. You deserve my respect, just as I deserve yours.

Time to have fun with the latest NPR Puzzle!

 

Today's theme is MBAs, as in the business degrees. Every answer is a familiar two-word phrase or name in which the first word starts with M-, and the second word starts BA-.

Ex. a little of this, a little of that --> Mixed bag

 

1. Something a Boy Scout earns

2. Piece of playground equipment that kids climb on

3. Group of musicians following a drum major

4. Strip on top of a computer screen from which you can pull down to make selections

5. Dumpling in Jewish soup

6. New England colony established by the Puritans

7. Financial institution for private companies and wealthy individuals

8. Place where soldiers train

9. Container for a postal worker

10. Health treatment in which a person sits in a tub of hot, wet earth

11. A commercial pitch on TV might offer a _____ guarantee

12. Terse admission of error

 

 

Answer Keys

1. Merit Badge

2. Monkey Bars

3. Marching Band

4. Menu Bar

5. Metzo Ball

6. Massachusetts Bay

7. Merchant Bank

8. Military Base/ or Marine Base

9. Mail Bag

10. Mud Bath

11. Money back

12. My bad!