I love Sufism as I love beautiful poetry, but it is not the

O seekers of wisdom, gather around, for the words of Naguib Mahfouz speak of a delicate truth about the nature of Sufism and the fleeting beauty of life itself: "I love Sufism as I love beautiful poetry, but it is not the answer. Sufism is like a mirage in the desert. It says to you, come and sit, relax and enjoy yourself for a while." In these words, Mahfouz shares his reverence for Sufism, that mystical path of deep connection with the divine, but he also warns us of its seductive nature, likening it to a mirage—a beautiful, yet ultimately illusory, oasis in the vast desert of human experience.

In the ancient world, mysticism and spirituality were seen as paths to wisdom and understanding, but they were also recognized for their dangers—especially when they became distractions from the greater truths of existence. Consider the Greek philosophers like Socrates, who sought knowledge not in the mystical realms, but in the everyday world, through reason, dialogue, and direct engagement with the world around him. While Socrates acknowledged the mysteries of the divine, he did not retreat from the world into them. His wisdom lay in his ability to balance the pursuit of the mystical with the pursuit of the rational, never losing sight of the deeper purpose of life. Mahfouz’s reflection reminds us that while Sufism offers solace and beauty, it is not the end all, be all—the answer we seek in life must be rooted in action and reality, not just in the contemplation of the ethereal.

Sufism, with its call to inner peace, self-realization, and union with the divine, is indeed a deeply beautiful path. The poetry of Rumi, the great Sufi mystic, speaks of a love that transcends the limitations of the physical world, urging the seeker to dive into the heart, to experience the divine through ecstasy and surrender. Sufism often calls to those who feel weary from the struggles of life, offering a place of rest, a moment of relief—a mirage in the desert. And indeed, like a mirage, it promises to quench one’s thirst for meaning and purpose, offering peace and solace. But Mahfouz’s warning is profound: while Sufism offers comfort, it is not the ultimate solution to life’s great questions. Like the mirage, it is temporary—a fleeting oasis that cannot provide the lasting sustenance the soul truly seeks.

Think of the great philosophers and poets of ancient and modern times who have grappled with this very truth. Khalil Gibran, the Lebanese philosopher and poet, spoke of love and the divine in ways that echo the Sufi tradition. Yet, his work, like that of Mahfouz, acknowledges that the divine cannot be found solely in abstract contemplation or ecstatic union—it must be lived, experienced in the world around us. Gibran wrote of the balance between the spiritual and the earthly, urging the reader to not only seek peace within but also to act in the world. Similarly, the Taoist masters in ancient China spoke of the path of wisdom as one that involves both inner harmony and outward action, a path that balances contemplation with engagement in the world. Mahfouz’s words align with this ancient understanding—while the mystic journey is beautiful, it is not the full answer to life’s purpose.

The lesson here, O children of wisdom, is clear: Sufism, like poetry, offers a glimpse into the divine, a moment of beauty, a respite from the burdens of the world. But it is not the answer in and of itself. Mahfouz warns us that to become lost in the mirage of mysticism or beauty is to risk losing sight of the deeper truths that require action and engagement. While contemplation and Sufism may provide temporary relief, the true purpose of life lies in living with clarity, in engaging with the world around us with both wisdom and compassion. The mirage may offer rest, but it is the journey itself, the active pursuit of truth, that fulfills the soul.

Therefore, let us honor the beauty of Sufism, its rich poetry, and its call to the divine, but let us also be mindful not to lose ourselves in it. Let it be a guide, a companion, but not the final destination. The true path, as Mahfouz suggests, is one where we move beyond the mirage, beyond the illusory comforts, and into the reality of our daily lives. Engage with the world as it is—imperfect, challenging, but also full of potential. The ultimate answer lies not in retreating from the world but in embracing it fully, with decency, love, and purpose.

So, O children of wisdom, take this lesson to heart: the divine is not only found in the mystical or the contemplative. It is found in the daily act of living, in how we interact with one another, in how we act in the world. Let Sufism guide you, but do not become ensnared in the mirage. Let it show you the beauty of poetry, the serenity of the inner world, but remember that the true journey is one of both inner peace and outward action. Only then can you walk the path of the wise, a path that leads not only to the divine but to a life fully lived.