This is a poem by Rumi. I was going to stick it in the comments of my last post, in reply to Alex, who says “so many martial arts options, so hard to choose.” But it’s wonderful, so here it is for everybody.
These spiritual windowshoppers,
who idly ask, “How much is that?” Oh, I’m just looking.
They handle a hundred items and put them down,
shadows with no capital.
What is spent is love, and two eyes wet with weeping.
But these walk into a shop,
and their whole lives pass suddenly in that moment,
in that shop.
Where did you go? “Nowhere.”
What did you have to eat? “Nothing much.”
Even if you don’t know what you want,
buy something, to be part of the exchanging flow.
Start a huge, foolish project,
It makes absolutely no difference
what people think of you.