As Ramadan 2018 ends

The greatest respite this Ramadan has brought is the muffling, if not the silencing, of the mental white noise crackling with random, tangential thoughts and incessant self-vilification. Fasting does that to you! Its not just about a physical detox or moral realignment. The realisation of just how much bandwidth inner chatter was taking up was chastening,  even shocking.

Taken by me at Sigtuna, Sweden, August 2017.

Released from the battle with the sabotaging monkey-mind,  this month of fasting has brought a sense of floating on a deep pool of cool water. The absence of jolts to the adrenals from cups of caffeine has doubtless assisted with this descent into deep calm. It seems inevitable, however, once Eid is over - even on Eid itself - that the seductive aromas of roasted coffee and frothy cappuccinos will reclaim me and once again fuel this inner static. Perhaps, to be fair, one should not blame the caffeine. The biochemistry of thought and overthinking is a little more complicated than that. But for now a profound sense of calm predominates and it is beautiful.

And so as the last week of Ramadan unfolds, and  we make our supplications on the 'Nights of Determination' (layāli al-qadr), the inner stillness is so...well, still, that it is hard to invoke desires or wants, however necessary or noble. Instead, a deep acceptance of things as they are stands sentinel. Whether I like them or not is immaterial; I accept them as part of the perfect order of cause and effect. All the loathsome imperfections and injustices wrought by human cunning, perfidiousness, treachery, greed, obliviousness, and power mongering remain in play. But the whole concatenation is one perfect cacophony.

Nothing is static. Everything is either moving overtly or covertly towards or away from Allah.  Whatever moves towards that eternal light brings harmony, goodness, beauty. Whatever moves away from that towards the darkness of the lower orders brings suffering, despair, hopelessness -  innā hadaynāhu 's-sabīla, immā shākiran, immā kafūran: 'We have shown him the way, he is either grateful or in denial' (76:3).

My sincere wish is for that state of gratitude to prevail, long beyond this month of withholding and abstention. Shukr (gratitude) sweetens even the bitter lessons life teaches us.  Equally sincere is my  hope for the space created between thought, emotion and passing state to remain. Fasting brings with it a loosening of fixations - and that is liberating. My last du'a is for the cloak of Allah's mercy and forgiveness to fall over me and keep falling over me. There will never be a time when I am not in need of it.

Remembrance

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'Alā bi dhikri llāhi tatma'in al-qulūb'
'Surely, is it not through remembrance of Allah that hearts feel at peace?'

Recently in Karachi  I was blessed with the opportunity to join with a women's halaqa where I met with close friends and others for a dhikr. At the beginning I shared with everyone a message from my father, Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri. The transcript follows:

"Our life on earth is a transition; it is a work in progress. It is for that reason nothing whatsoever will be enough for us. There is no situation or state in which anyone can say they are fully content. It is not true.

Nothing will ever be fully done or completed, either in terms of rationality or otherwise, unless you are at all times connecting to your soul, connecting your mind, memory, rationality and intentions with your soul - which is the nur of Allah. Your soul is the nur of Allah.

So until this resonance takes place you will be in a constant state of guilt, error, and self-reproach. If you remember that which is from beyond memory, from before memory - the Qur'anic ayah tells us 'Was there not a time where you were a thing not to be mentioned?'

There was a time when your ruh preceded the manifestation of your physical body. and this is who we are: we are a ruh. And this ruh is in exile within the body for a while.  And the purpose is for the so-called individual who is a mixture between past, mind, biography and the nur of Allah is to go back to world of lights.  If it is ready, it goes straight to the lights. If it is not it goes through a little bit of turbulence, whether it be hell or paradise.

So the purpose of salat, of dhikr,  of 'ibada, mostly come to the same point: of being completely - by will - thoughtless [without wandering thoughts], neutral, but present, light in the moment. Whatever we practise, even reading Qur'an, will take us along a terrain that goes up and down, and then into a zone where anything can happen anytime in an instant. It means the ruh is not caught in space and time. It is only the body that is caught in space and time, and the mind, and the memory - your biography.

So if you are not doing this work on yourself then you are not fulfilling the purpose for which you were created. And if you are doing it then you will reach a point where it is perpetual -  as the Qur'an describes, those who are constantly in their prayers ('al-ladhīna fī salātihim dā'imūn')."

Alhamdulillah!