One of Rumi’s poems resonated in particular with my agnostic, skeptical self. It’s called “Love Dogs,” and it describes a man calling for Allah, until a cynic asks why he bothers: “I have heard you calling out, but have you ever gotten any response?” The man is shaken; he falls asleep and dreams of meeting Khidr, the guide of souls, who asks why he stopped praying. “Because I never heard an answer back,” says the man. Maybe it was a waste of time, maybe he was calling into the void. But Khidr tells him: This longing you express is the return message. The grief you cry out from draws you toward
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