David Daniel Books

The great Sufi poet, Rumi, believed that before we speak, our words should pass through three gates. Each gate asks a simple question, yet each one carries weight. Is it true? Is it necessary? Is it kind? These poignant questions aren’t meant to restrain us, but to become invitations to awaken and grow conscious of what we release into the world.

This poses an even more important question: how often would our own words pass this test? The average person speaks roughly sixteen thousand words a day. If we allowed each of those words to pause at Rumi’s gates, how many would still be spoken? How many would quietly fall away?  I ponder this frequently and often return to it as a practice, only to fail miserably. To be truly successful, I would seldom speak at all. And yet, the exercise teaches me something essential. It asks me to listen more carefully, not just to what I say, but to why I feel compelled to say it in the first place.

We create more karma with our mouth than our actions. Our words generate a subtle vibration that travels far beyond the moment they are spoken, touching corners of the world we may never see. A careless remark, made in passing or without thought, can echo in someone’s mind for hours or even years, quietly shaping how they see themselves or replaying in the background of an otherwise ordinary day.

A comment spoken carelessly at a dinner table or in a hallway can shift the world in unexpected ways, creating moments of doubt or vulnerability in an unsuspecting recipient. Something said without much thought, and likely long forgotten by the speaker, can remain with another person, quietly discouraging them from pursuing a dream or trusting a gift they are not yet certain they possess. Words like these have the power to redirect a life’s course.

One begins to wonder how often a healer was silenced before offering their gift, a musician chose not to share their art, or an inventor stepped back from an idea that might have changed the way the world moves, all because of a careless comment spoken in jest or without conscious intention. It is worth asking whether a single sentence ever dimmed something the world was waiting to receive.

A single kind word, however, carries the same reach. A sincere “I see you,” or “You matter,” offered without agenda, can steady someone who was on the verge of giving up. It may arrive at just the right moment, altering the course of a day, a decision, or a belief they were holding about themselves. We rarely witness the full reach of what we say, yet the impact continues to unfold, moving from one heart to another in ways we cannot track or control.

Because of this, it becomes essential to be mindful not only of what we say, but of how we say it. The tone we carry, the intention beneath our words, and the moment we choose to speak all matter. The words we release do not simply vanish into the air. They settle into our relationships, our work, and our inner lives. Over time, they take shape as lived experience, gradually forming the reality we find ourselves walking through.

Words activate our deepest intentions, and belief gives those words the energy needed to shape our lived reality. Yet intention does not move in isolation. Just as words require belief to take root, belief itself moves within larger rhythms. Timing matters. There are seasons in our lives when effort flows easily, when a single word can open a door, and others when even the truest intention struggles to take form and silence becomes the wiser companion.

This is where planetary alignment enters the conversation and where our awareness is invited to mature. Moving beyond simply being mindful of our words, we begin to elevate our consciousness by paying attention to timing itself. Rather than acting as a cause, the movements of the planets can be understood as markers of rhythm, reflecting seasons of energy we experience here on Earth. When we attune to these rhythms, we are no longer speaking only with care, but with discernment.

In practical terms, this means recognizing that there are moments when the ground feels more fertile, when speaking carries momentum and offering healing or encouragement can land where it is truly needed. At other times, restraint becomes the greater kindness and silence the more loving choice. Rumi’s gates help us sense this difference. They ask us not only to consider whether our words are true, necessary, and kind, but whether the moment itself is ready to receive them.

How and where the planets are aligned affects the energy here on Earth. Many dismiss this idea, yet the moon’s influence on the ocean’s tides is undeniable. It follows, then, that the same forces shaping the waters of the planet also move through us. We are not separate from the greater cosmos. We are participants within it.

When we begin to recognize this interconnectivity, even briefly, we start to move differently through our lives. Our words carry more weight. Our silences become more intentional. We see that a word spoken against another is also spoken against ourselves, and that grace extended outward does not leave us diminished. It returns, shaping the very field we live within.

Perhaps the invitation is simple. To become the gatekeeper of our words, one moment at a time. To pause before speaking and let each sentence pass through these three gates, not perfectly, but sincerely. In doing so, we begin to shape a different kind of world, one conversation at a time. Our words become fewer, but more intentional. Our silences become kinder. And slowly, through this steady attention, we participate in the healing of the world, not by force or volume, but by choosing to speak only what is true, necessary, and kind.

This brings me back to Rumi and the three gates.

At the first gate, ask yourself, Is it true?
At the second gate, Is it necessary?
At the third gate, Is it kind?

If we allow our words to pass through these gates, we align ourselves with something deeper than habit or impulse. We begin to speak from awareness rather than reaction. In doing so, we become quieter, more present, and more trustworthy with the power we carry. This is how change begins. Not through grand declarations, but through a single word chosen with care.