Gora Kala, But sometimes you have to surrender, you have to lose your mind to achieve the higher good. Senses sometimes work as anti catalyst, they are the speed breakers.
Listen to this poem by Rumi
I was dead, then alive.
Weeping, then laughing.
The power of love came into me,
and I became fierce like a lion,
then tender like the evening star.
He said, ‘You’re not mad enough.
You don’t belong in this house.’
I went wild and had to be tied up.
He said, ‘Still not wild enough
to stay with us!’
I broke through another layer
into joyfulness.
He said, ‘Its not enough.’
I died.
He said, ‘You are a clever little man,
full of fantasy and doubting.’
I plucked out my feathers and became a fool.
He said, ‘Now you are the candle
for this assembly.’
But I’m no candle. Look!
I’m scattered smoke
He said, ‘You are the Sheikh, the guide.’
But I’m not a teacher. I have no power.
He said, ‘You already have wings.
I cannot give you wings.’
But I wanted his wings.
I felt like some flightless chicken.
Then new events said to me,
‘Don’t move. A sublime generosity is
coming towards you.’
And old love said, ‘Stay with me.’
I said, ‘I will.’