When I was a child, Rumi wasn’t a philosopher or a poet for me. He was candy. Every once in a while, a relative from Konya would visit and bring Mevlana şekeri. The rock sugar associated with Rumi. Sweet, shiny, and simple. How couldn’t I like him? For me, Rumi meant sugar, not wisdom. As I grew older, I started noticing Rumi’s words in books, in conversations,…
