A quest for Al Khadir الخضر‎, the inner master. Al Khadir, a character generally unknown in Western culture, occupies a very important place in the popular and mystical knowledge of the countries of the Islamic rhizome, although its origins go back to ancient times. Al Khadir, literally the one who greens, inhabits the in-between world, the no-man's land, the fine interstice between the real and the unreal, life and death, sleep and wakefulness,.... this place is called Al Barzaj, the Isthmus. Where he passes, everything greens up, even the tracks of his footsteps are immediately covered with grass.

"In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors..." [William Blake] An old pilgrim dressed in rags observes a flower in the dark of the night ... The old man is a door between the things that are known and unknown ... symbolizes the decline and the end of what we have taken for real, and now it is perceived as ephemeral and inconsistent, as the poverty of his clothes dragged by time. The proximity of death as an unavoidable truth gives his own vision; a new and deeper insight not limited to visual perception, and beyond logic and laws of the world. Maybe that's why in the dark of night can contemplate the beauty of a flower.

"Those who are on the road of the heart show their wounds...". Farid Ud-Din Attar. S.XI. Persia. Cd rom_interactive. Zayd Ibn Dawra 2000 Marrakesh. Collaborations: Zoubida el Bouzidi. IDEP.

The Song of the Hoopoe “Traveler who travels with no other baggage than imagination.”

“You can see a bird in flight and watch to observe it, or feel that you are flying with it. That is contemplation, becoming the other.” Hafiz. Despite (or because of) its apparent calmness, contemplation is the state that most radically dissolves and liberates the self. Through contemplation, the other gradually seeps into us like gentle rain ... without realising it, we suddenly start to see ... the world is not outside us and nothing is lifeless ... images appear and disappear over the silence of that which has no name or form ... like the blinking of something that isn’t our eyes... perhaps then the inner teacher will appear intimately... you will recognise him because all that has withered blooms again ... then we will know that the sky can also be stone and feet can walk on clouds and ... But make sure you do not name him ... for he will vanish.