The Sufi musical tradition, or Sama', has been used as a way to connect with the divine for hundreds of years by incorporating poetry, song and dance to praise God. For many mystics, this mixture is the most powerful connection with God and is considered an even higher form of worship than prayer. Religious music is not a new concept and is practiced in both Western and Eastern cultures, but many Sufis believe that the practice can bring about visions of God and transport both the musician and the audience into a new reality. Although Sama' generally includes both auditory and kinetic characteristics, the auditory component is considered the more significant of the two; “Sama'” literally translates to “that which is felt”. Rumi, a 13th-century Persian poet, was particularly inspired by the ritual and devoted an entire chapter to the subject in his theological texts, translated into English and condensed in The Sufi Path of Love. According to Rumi, music is at the heart of the universe, or as he puts it, “melodies come from the turning of the spheres.” Sama' and its complexities are alluded to in numerous poems, functioning as an allegory of faith through themes such as silence, spirituality, and longing. Through poetry, Rumi presents his personal theology of both ritual and music itself. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay Ironically, silence is the backbone of Rumi's beliefs about music. It emphasizes the importance of being empty, silent and still until what seems almost the point of death; in fact, in a poem, aptly titled “Quietness,” he states that silence is “the surest sign that you are dead.” This is meant metaphorically and symbolizes the powerful spiritual connection formed with God after a period of meditation. However, the negative associations resulting from this rather macabre diction suggest that spiritual connection requires a total disconnection from life, as if the two are mutually exclusive. In the same poem, he describes the moon as “speechless” – a rather literal personification that encourages the desire to become like the moon – inanimate, silent and peaceful compared to the busy and noisy life of man. Silence not only connects us to nature, but to the rest of humanity. The poem “Breath Only” begins with a list of some of the most widespread religions of the time and seems to be an invitation to all human beings, regardless of the circumstances from which they come. Rumi implies that he doesn't actually belong to any of these religions and that religion and identity are just small attributes that contribute to a larger whole. It suggests that the only characteristic shared by all human beings is breath, not faith, origin, or opinion. The act of breathing represents unity between cultures in a world where language was often an unbreakable barrier. Silence is, in essence, humanity. Rumi even goes so far as to say that words corrupt the human spirit, as demonstrated by the allegory described in the poem “Enough words?”. A frog swimming in a pond can escape the fatal snake only by remaining completely silent. If he croaked or tried to emulate the snake's speech, the snake would wake up. He can reach the barley grain he seeks, a symbol of enlightenment, only through silence. The paradox between Rumi's love of music and appreciation of stillness is reconcilable upon closer examination. Many of his poems are signed not with his name, but with “khamush,” or “silence.” Silence follows Rumi's message as a reminder to take time to understand the true meaning of the poem. A period of interpretation andunderstanding after reading and listening is essential; internal reflection cannot take place until the external cacophony stops or ends. The kind of silence Rumi appreciates is not eternal; it is the quiet solitude of the post-Enlightenment. The poem that concludes the section titled “Night Air,” published in Coleman Barks' The Essential Rumi, succinctly summarizes this idea: "There is a way between voice and presence, where information flows. In silence disciplined opens. Wandering discourse closes." of a stream, dammed by “wandering speech” and opened only by “disciplined silence”. Perhaps a better name for Rumi's “silence” is “space,” since he will always be surrounded by noise. Sama' implies a silence of the same variety. Ustad Wasifuddin Dagar, an award-winning Indian classical singer, points out that in addition to the tone and rhythm of the male voice, an essential element of Sama' is shanti, or silence. This is not limited to the silence that follows a song (after the ringing of the last note dies but before applause), but to the “silence” that occurs when the singer rests during the instrumental sections of the song. Although the Sufi tradition relies heavily on improvisation, the song follows a general format consisting of instrumental improvisation sections interrupting lyrical verses, as well as an instrumental introduction and outro. In this way Sama' emulates this mystical value of silence; Rumi's poems pay homage to tradition and reflect the quiet solitude so essential to Sufi music. Instrumental music does not have the same implications as speech in Rumi's works. Not once does the poet mention the importance of meditating on music in the same way one should contemplate speech. This seems contradictory, considering that music and speech are essentially the same thing as both are created by humans, for humans. Furthermore, there is no specific song that everyone can identify with, unlike the universal breath. However, Rumi seems to value music above words, and in one poem he urges his readers not to “open the study door and start reading,” but instead to “pick up a musical instrument.” Rumi suggests that this creative outlet can be used as a means to praise God, not just to entertain man. Creation as an end in itself transcends the boundaries of time and the space necessary for the word is no longer necessary. In a manner reminiscent of the comparison between man and the moon, Rumi compares the human spirit to birdsong in another poem. It expresses the desire for divine inspiration, so that one can become “ecstatic” like the birds. Here the birdsong is not just a simple chatter, but the product of their love for life. Music is a gift given by Allah to human beings, and then vice versa. The conversation ends only when man stops listening to divine inspiration. Rumi's music is actually very similar to silence; it is a reflection on His word, a tranquility that follows the act of listening. In “The Music,” Rumi writes that although we often forget to listen, inspiration never ceases. His music is both an apology and a sign of gratitude to Allah. Again, it cannot be a coincidence that the music reflects core religious values, primarily the idea that "God will provide" as a result of prayer. While this cycle begins at the end of man with the song itself serving as a symbol of prayer, the rhythm symbolizes the “flow” of divine inspiration. Sama' cannot produce its ecstatic effect without its hypnotic and constant rhythm. According to an article on the subject published in the Indian Streams Research Journal, Sama's “powerful rhythm [suggests] the incessant repetition of the name of God.”.