Yesterday I again came upon the thirteenth century Sufi, Jalal al-Din Rumi. My encounter with him was through the book "The Islamist"–which is Ed Husain's story of his early fascination and adoption of Islamic fundamentalism, his subsequent disillusionment, and finally his journey away from indoctrination.
During his move away from that extremist form of Islam he began reading Sufi literature and while visiting Turkey he "met" Rumi.
His story reminded me of this particular poem of Rumi's. Perhaps it can act as a kind of launch pad into the New Year. If and when it fits, consider it your Grow Mercy New Year's blessing.
Be with those who help your being.
Don’t sit with indifferent people, whose breath
comes cold out of their mouths.
Not these visible forms, your work is deeper.
A chunk of dirt thrown in the air breaks to pieces.
If you don’t try to fly,
and so break yourself apart,
you will be broken open by death,
when it’s too late for all you could become.
Leaves get yellow. The tree puts out fresh roots
and makes them green.
Why are you so content with a love that turns you yellow?
Happy New Year!