It is related that three butterflies, dwelling in the shade of a vast forest, heard whispers of a mysterious flame. The flame was spoken of with awe—its light irresistible, its heat transformative. Stirred by longing rather than curiosity, they resolved to journey toward it, each carrying within its tiny breast a different measure of courage.
When they came near, the first butterfly hovered at a safe distance. The warmth reached its wings, and the glow dazzled its sight. It said, “This is sufficient for me. I now know that the flame exists.” Content with this assurance, it turned back, confident in its knowledge.
The second butterfly, not satisfied with mere warmth or rumor, flew closer. Its wings were scorched, and pain etched itself upon its body. It cried, “Now I have truly seen the flame. I believe in it with certainty.” Bearing the marks of its encounter, it too withdrew.
The third butterfly did not pause to measure distance or consequence. Drawn by an irresistible pull, it plunged directly into the heart of the flame. In that moment, form vanished. The flame became the butterfly, and the butterfly became the flame. None could say whether the fire consumed the butterfly or the butterfly consumed the fire. As it burned, it spoke no longer of belief or proof, but uttered only: “I am the flame.”
When the shaykh completed the story, he said:
“This is the parable of the three degrees of certainty. The first butterfly stands at ʿIlm al-Yaqīn—knowledge of the truth. It knows by report and inference, and this knowledge satisfies it. Such are those who are content with forms, doctrines, and outward acts, stopping at the threshold of meaning.
The second butterfly represents ʿAyn al-Yaqīn—the eye of certainty. It sees the truth directly and bears its marks. These are the seekers who demand proof and witness, whose faith is strengthened by experience, yet who remain separate from what they behold.
The third butterfly is Ḥaqq al-Yaqīn—the truth of certainty. It does not speak of the flame, nor even see it; it is the flame. These are the elect, for whom the Real is no longer an object of knowledge but the ground of their being. They do not say, ‘I know’ or ‘I have seen,’ for there is no longer a ‘they’ apart from the Truth.”
Then the shaykh fell silent, and after a pause he added:
“Many are satisfied mere hearsay about light, some seek the pain of proof. But few surrender themselves to the Light. Certainty is not completed by knowledge, nor by sight, but by annihilation in what is sought. When the Self burns away, only Reality remains.”
And those who understood said nothing, for silence, too, is a form of witness.
