It is just over ten days into this blessed month of withdrawal and silencing the senses.There is a distinct rhythm I have fallen into, quite unlike past Ramadans. Something has shifted for me this year and I am amazed at the energy I have. Perhaps its because of studious avoidance (but not entirely consistent) of starches. Or perhaps the monsoon breezes have taken the edge off the heat and hence the days scorch less than in the past few years - not an insignificant factor. Or perhaps its because, as our traditions tell us, Shaytan - that deleterious, insidious energy - is held in chains for the duration, while the doors of mercy are open. Or perhaps it is because the sheer intention to please Allah raises the act of fasting from miserable, pedestrian deprivation to heightened awareness of Allah's Grace, Mercy, Majesty, Magnanimity, and Love. And because of that my consciousness is actively focused on a different horizon.
Whatever the cause, the shift in consciousness is a delightful welcome. Many times in the past its been a matter of just getting through each day without keeling over or ceasing to function, punctuated by the peaks of relief at fast-breaking and prayer, or the troughs of blinding headaches, irritability and catatonia. Given the busy household I manage, Ramadan is also about handling food anxieties, not just of others, but my own as well. Even that has shifted. Such concerns seem to have dropped away, without neglecting the important matter of feeding the troops.
Everything seems brighter, better, easier - even with a 15 hour long fast. Less white noise, more inner silence. Less confusion, more inner clarity. Less gullibility in believing my own narrative, more delight in witnessing a vaster storyline unfold. Descending into self-obliteration in Salat seems easier when the weight of the self has been lifted and shrunk and parked I know not where. Dhikr travels faster than the speed of sound to take one to deep peace.
Inside a cavern has been scoured out. It is not the emptiness of hunger or thirst. It is akin to a vacuum, so silent and tranquil that the merest plop of a drop of water could be heard distinctly. This is the Cavern of No-Thought. No-thought as distinct from thoughtlessness. Even as my consciousness resides in this blissful zone, I am hardly acting as a vegetative mass! I am aware Syria burns - and it pains me. The Olympics are in full swing - and I pay occasional admiring heed to the athletes' prowess. Romney is playing President abroad - and my opinion would be unprintable. Local NGOs are working hard to attract zakat into their coffers so they can continue to do the job of shoring up civil society in this wobbly but lively nation - and I am trying to do my miniscule bit.
Yet...
Here in this Cavern of No-Thought dwells the light of Presence. Ineffable. All-Encompassing. Majestic and Beautiful. Beyond bloggable words, beyond fixed forms, a shape-shifting, bliss inducing basso profondo humming Huuuuuuuuuu.
Whatever the cause, the shift in consciousness is a delightful welcome. Many times in the past its been a matter of just getting through each day without keeling over or ceasing to function, punctuated by the peaks of relief at fast-breaking and prayer, or the troughs of blinding headaches, irritability and catatonia. Given the busy household I manage, Ramadan is also about handling food anxieties, not just of others, but my own as well. Even that has shifted. Such concerns seem to have dropped away, without neglecting the important matter of feeding the troops.
Everything seems brighter, better, easier - even with a 15 hour long fast. Less white noise, more inner silence. Less confusion, more inner clarity. Less gullibility in believing my own narrative, more delight in witnessing a vaster storyline unfold. Descending into self-obliteration in Salat seems easier when the weight of the self has been lifted and shrunk and parked I know not where. Dhikr travels faster than the speed of sound to take one to deep peace.
Inside a cavern has been scoured out. It is not the emptiness of hunger or thirst. It is akin to a vacuum, so silent and tranquil that the merest plop of a drop of water could be heard distinctly. This is the Cavern of No-Thought. No-thought as distinct from thoughtlessness. Even as my consciousness resides in this blissful zone, I am hardly acting as a vegetative mass! I am aware Syria burns - and it pains me. The Olympics are in full swing - and I pay occasional admiring heed to the athletes' prowess. Romney is playing President abroad - and my opinion would be unprintable. Local NGOs are working hard to attract zakat into their coffers so they can continue to do the job of shoring up civil society in this wobbly but lively nation - and I am trying to do my miniscule bit.
Yet...
Here in this Cavern of No-Thought dwells the light of Presence. Ineffable. All-Encompassing. Majestic and Beautiful. Beyond bloggable words, beyond fixed forms, a shape-shifting, bliss inducing basso profondo humming Huuuuuuuuuu.
Beautiful. Thank you!
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