In his illuminating Friday talk about the fast of Ramadan, just before
the start of the sacred month this year, Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri said that, 'The more
you are disconnected with the outer, the more you are possibly connected
to the inner'.
Fasting, and particularly the fast of Ramadan, is a powerful way to increase that inner connectivity. The dawn to dusk restriction on alimentation and distracting stimulations of other kinds is a guaranteed way of strengthening self-awareness and emptying out the subtle idols tucked away in the heart. Maulana Rumi captured this truth beautifully in his poetry shared here. My commentary on some of the poem's highlights follows it.
We often associate empty stomachs with pain and suffering. But the fast of the Muslim in fulfilment of Allah's command is transformed from deprivation into something else - at the very least, a sweetening joy at being able to carry the intention through. The accumulating effects of being under-fuelled calorifically and intentionally fasting on multiple sensory levels reconnects us to our source of power and re-attunes us to the modus of being a vessel through which divine purpose can be achieved.
Rumi uses musical imagery abundantly in his poetry. The idea that we are vessels through which music is made - through which the soul can speak in another language altogether more richly than speech - accompanies the allegories of the reed and lute. A lute lies silent in the hands of its master until it is plucked and pressured just so, and then the harmony of notes it creates can transport us to other dimensions of being. If we are to express the music of our beingness we must be empty, hollowed out inside - which the fast effectively does. Belly and brain are clearly connected, and once they are burnished with the fire of fasting, new notes can sound. The white noise of interior chatter subsides and we can start to hear the harmony of what IS.
Rumi urges us to keep emptying out, to be like the hollow reed that gives voice to the soul. For in that state where you are empty of your 'you-ness'. of your ego-self, of the fantasy of your importance, history, personality and actions, your emptiness then renders your form worthy of another form of expression: inscribing the truth with the ink into which you can dip your hollow reed, putting it to the use for which it was created.
Satiation, or rather, permanent satiation dulls the senses and blunts sensitivities. Here Rumi alludes to the Prophetic tradition which describes how 'Shaytan flows through Adam like blood, therefore constrict his passageway by hunger'. That mischievous, wayward, troublesome, impulsive energy of Shaytan is fueled by an abundance of kilojoules, or rather, an excess of potentially misguiding energy. In Arabic the word Shaytan derives from the verb ShTN, to be cast off the path, to be flung far off the way. For me this conjures up the imagery of jagged and static interference rather than a horned red devil with a pointy tail. To the sensitively attuned, static interference is painful and disturbing (almost excruciating!), rather like the net effect of following the dictates of Shaytan. The easiest way to control this fizzing random energy is to cut off its fuel supply by fasting. The result is instantaneous!
If allowed, this presence of forgetfulness and waywardness - of disobedience even -can take over. Rumi sees it as dislocating the spirit - something amorphous, intangible and of divine origin - with an' ugly metal statue' instead of the sublime clean lines of the empty Ka'bah, ultimate symbol of the central focus of the heart, the sanctuary of God. Historically of course, the Ka'bah had housed effigies of the pre-Islamic gods worshiped by the Arab tribes. As far as I know most of the reputed 360 idols were made of stone or wood, but if the material of some were metal, then this would allude further to their stiff intractability and cold lifelessness.
What are the good habits that might accrue from fasting? Sensitivity to the plight of others, to those who never get to fill their bellies once, let alone three times a day. Action to help others, to share, to alleviate their suffering, to give them ease. Good habits like withdrawing from frivolous social discourse, spending time wisely, being mindful in every endeavour or intention and conduct, increasing time spent in prayer and dhikr. Fasting re-acquaints us with what it feels like to be pure.
And these habits are 'like friends who want to help'. The more you do good, the more refined your actions, the easier it becomes to perpetuate them. The barakah is inbuilt. I particularly appreciate the idea of habits as friends, for it reflects not on our essence, but on who we become through our actions and choices. We exist and act in the realm of Mulk but in the Malakut and Jabarut we are in tact spiritually; what goes on in the Mulk can affect us on subtler levels. By persistent inappropriate actions we can deform ourselves and become removed from the conscious awareness of being in the sacred precinct. Good habits act upon us to keep us there.
Legend goes that when Solomon (Hazrat Sulayman, upon him be peace) had his ring he was powerful beyond all human imaginings. With it his dominion was held in balance. Yet he lost his ring - wrested from him by an evil Demon called Sakhr who then took over his throne - and supposedly with it all his powers and was dethroned. In the Sufi Weltanschaung enlightened beings do not react to apparent misfortune with dismay but equanimity. Hazrat Sulayman never flinched at the loss, for he knew that the power was not imbued in the ring, but merely symbolized by it. In truth, the power lay within him by the grace of God.
Legend further has it that the ring was returned to him in the belly of a fish, which had been given to him by a fisherman out of pity as he was wandering destitute. From Rumi's words we can infer that a prophetic being of Soloman's stature, however, would not have cared for all the power given to him, for it was God's alone to give or take away. The belief that you have power of your own is a persuasive illusion, but one from which you can be relieved by fasting, for then you experience how weak a being you really are, so dependent on physical nourishment for your ability to just operate basically. There is no real independence! To know this is to disappear into utter humility.
Many of us fear the weakness brought upon us by fasting. We fear that it will diminish us in our daily powers. At the level of survival fasting is contra instinctual. And yet, by the moderated weakening of outer sensory faculties, our complementary inner faculties are gradually enhanced. You have no choice but to submit! So even if you do fall into the trap of believing you have lost your powers - which are Allah's in the first place but just devolved onto us - through the fast your weakening is transformed into a strengthening of certainty and resolve that all is by Allah, from Allah and unto Allah.
And then, just as happened to Solomon, help and means manifest. He regained his throne and power and went on to build the famous temple, for the legions of obedient soldiers symbolize the capacity to execute will. During the trial of a day of fasting, we might be rescued by a verse of Qur'an, by a cooling wudu', or indeed, by the relief of fast-breaking itself. And by that enhanced awareness we will find ourselves blessed with 'other food', honoured and elevated, as Jesus' table is mentioned in the Qur'an as a sign of reassurance of God's truth:
Would any of us swap cabbage broth, the humblest and poorest of dishes, for the higher order of nourishment that comes from being empty and emptier?
* Trans. Coleman Barks
Fasting, and particularly the fast of Ramadan, is a powerful way to increase that inner connectivity. The dawn to dusk restriction on alimentation and distracting stimulations of other kinds is a guaranteed way of strengthening self-awareness and emptying out the subtle idols tucked away in the heart. Maulana Rumi captured this truth beautifully in his poetry shared here. My commentary on some of the poem's highlights follows it.
There’s hidden sweetness in the stomach’s emptiness.
We are lutes, no more, no less.
If the soundbox is stuffed full of anything, no music.
If the brain and belly are burning clean with fasting,
every moment a new song comes out of the fire.
The fog clears, and new energy makes you run
up the steps in front of you.
Be emptier and cry like reed instruments cry.
Emptier, write secrets with the reed pen.
When you’re full of food and drink,
Satan sits where your spirit should,
an ugly metal statue in place of the Kaaba.
When you fast, good habits gather
like friends who want to help.
Fasting is Solomon’s ring.
Don’t give into some illusion and lose your power,
but even if you have, if you’ve lost all will and control,
they come back when you fast,
like soldiers appearing out of the ground,
pennants flying above them.
A table descends to your tents, Jesus’ table.
Expect to see it, when you fast,
this tablespread with other food,
better than the broth of cabbages.*
(Ghazal No. 1739 from Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi)
The fog clears, and new energy makes you run
up the steps in front of you.
Be emptier and cry like reed instruments cry.
Emptier, write secrets with the reed pen.
When you’re full of food and drink,
Satan sits where your spirit should,
an ugly metal statue in place of the Kaaba.
When you fast, good habits gather
like friends who want to help.
Fasting is Solomon’s ring.
Don’t give into some illusion and lose your power,
but even if you have, if you’ve lost all will and control,
they come back when you fast,
like soldiers appearing out of the ground,
pennants flying above them.
A table descends to your tents, Jesus’ table.
Expect to see it, when you fast,
this tablespread with other food,
better than the broth of cabbages.*
(Ghazal No. 1739 from Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi)
We often associate empty stomachs with pain and suffering. But the fast of the Muslim in fulfilment of Allah's command is transformed from deprivation into something else - at the very least, a sweetening joy at being able to carry the intention through. The accumulating effects of being under-fuelled calorifically and intentionally fasting on multiple sensory levels reconnects us to our source of power and re-attunes us to the modus of being a vessel through which divine purpose can be achieved.
Rumi uses musical imagery abundantly in his poetry. The idea that we are vessels through which music is made - through which the soul can speak in another language altogether more richly than speech - accompanies the allegories of the reed and lute. A lute lies silent in the hands of its master until it is plucked and pressured just so, and then the harmony of notes it creates can transport us to other dimensions of being. If we are to express the music of our beingness we must be empty, hollowed out inside - which the fast effectively does. Belly and brain are clearly connected, and once they are burnished with the fire of fasting, new notes can sound. The white noise of interior chatter subsides and we can start to hear the harmony of what IS.
Rumi urges us to keep emptying out, to be like the hollow reed that gives voice to the soul. For in that state where you are empty of your 'you-ness'. of your ego-self, of the fantasy of your importance, history, personality and actions, your emptiness then renders your form worthy of another form of expression: inscribing the truth with the ink into which you can dip your hollow reed, putting it to the use for which it was created.
Satiation, or rather, permanent satiation dulls the senses and blunts sensitivities. Here Rumi alludes to the Prophetic tradition which describes how 'Shaytan flows through Adam like blood, therefore constrict his passageway by hunger'. That mischievous, wayward, troublesome, impulsive energy of Shaytan is fueled by an abundance of kilojoules, or rather, an excess of potentially misguiding energy. In Arabic the word Shaytan derives from the verb ShTN, to be cast off the path, to be flung far off the way. For me this conjures up the imagery of jagged and static interference rather than a horned red devil with a pointy tail. To the sensitively attuned, static interference is painful and disturbing (almost excruciating!), rather like the net effect of following the dictates of Shaytan. The easiest way to control this fizzing random energy is to cut off its fuel supply by fasting. The result is instantaneous!
If allowed, this presence of forgetfulness and waywardness - of disobedience even -can take over. Rumi sees it as dislocating the spirit - something amorphous, intangible and of divine origin - with an' ugly metal statue' instead of the sublime clean lines of the empty Ka'bah, ultimate symbol of the central focus of the heart, the sanctuary of God. Historically of course, the Ka'bah had housed effigies of the pre-Islamic gods worshiped by the Arab tribes. As far as I know most of the reputed 360 idols were made of stone or wood, but if the material of some were metal, then this would allude further to their stiff intractability and cold lifelessness.
What are the good habits that might accrue from fasting? Sensitivity to the plight of others, to those who never get to fill their bellies once, let alone three times a day. Action to help others, to share, to alleviate their suffering, to give them ease. Good habits like withdrawing from frivolous social discourse, spending time wisely, being mindful in every endeavour or intention and conduct, increasing time spent in prayer and dhikr. Fasting re-acquaints us with what it feels like to be pure.
And these habits are 'like friends who want to help'. The more you do good, the more refined your actions, the easier it becomes to perpetuate them. The barakah is inbuilt. I particularly appreciate the idea of habits as friends, for it reflects not on our essence, but on who we become through our actions and choices. We exist and act in the realm of Mulk but in the Malakut and Jabarut we are in tact spiritually; what goes on in the Mulk can affect us on subtler levels. By persistent inappropriate actions we can deform ourselves and become removed from the conscious awareness of being in the sacred precinct. Good habits act upon us to keep us there.
Legend goes that when Solomon (Hazrat Sulayman, upon him be peace) had his ring he was powerful beyond all human imaginings. With it his dominion was held in balance. Yet he lost his ring - wrested from him by an evil Demon called Sakhr who then took over his throne - and supposedly with it all his powers and was dethroned. In the Sufi Weltanschaung enlightened beings do not react to apparent misfortune with dismay but equanimity. Hazrat Sulayman never flinched at the loss, for he knew that the power was not imbued in the ring, but merely symbolized by it. In truth, the power lay within him by the grace of God.
Legend further has it that the ring was returned to him in the belly of a fish, which had been given to him by a fisherman out of pity as he was wandering destitute. From Rumi's words we can infer that a prophetic being of Soloman's stature, however, would not have cared for all the power given to him, for it was God's alone to give or take away. The belief that you have power of your own is a persuasive illusion, but one from which you can be relieved by fasting, for then you experience how weak a being you really are, so dependent on physical nourishment for your ability to just operate basically. There is no real independence! To know this is to disappear into utter humility.
Many of us fear the weakness brought upon us by fasting. We fear that it will diminish us in our daily powers. At the level of survival fasting is contra instinctual. And yet, by the moderated weakening of outer sensory faculties, our complementary inner faculties are gradually enhanced. You have no choice but to submit! So even if you do fall into the trap of believing you have lost your powers - which are Allah's in the first place but just devolved onto us - through the fast your weakening is transformed into a strengthening of certainty and resolve that all is by Allah, from Allah and unto Allah.
And then, just as happened to Solomon, help and means manifest. He regained his throne and power and went on to build the famous temple, for the legions of obedient soldiers symbolize the capacity to execute will. During the trial of a day of fasting, we might be rescued by a verse of Qur'an, by a cooling wudu', or indeed, by the relief of fast-breaking itself. And by that enhanced awareness we will find ourselves blessed with 'other food', honoured and elevated, as Jesus' table is mentioned in the Qur'an as a sign of reassurance of God's truth:
[And remember] when the disciples said, "O Jesus, Son of Mary, can your Lord send down to us a table [spread with food] from the heaven? [Jesus] said," Fear Allah , if you should be believers. They said, "We wish to eat from it and let our hearts be reassured and know that you have been truthful to us and be among its witnesses. Said Jesus, the son of Mary, "O Allah , our Lord, send down to us a table [spread with food] from the heaven to be for us a festival for the first of us and the last of us and a sign from You. And provide for us, and You are the best of providers.""[5:112-114].
* Trans. Coleman Barks
Uplifting and inspiring! Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThank you dear sister. Much to reflect on.
ReplyDelete