Monday, 31 March 2014

A talk given at the ASK March 2014 conference in South Africa

Not a blog but a talk... about time I posted something!


The Narrow Path to the Vastness of Truth – Sufism

ASK conference  World religions & Spiritual Illumination held at the Rasooli Centre in South Africa 6-9th March 2014

“Sufism has been defined, outlined and explained in over two thousand ways. The sum of all of these definitions goes back to: truthfulness in turning to Allah. Every definition goes back to this.”~ Shaykh Ahmad az-Zarruq (d.1493)

"Sufism is that you should be with God, without any attachment." ~ Imam Junayd Al-Baghdadi (d.910)
***

"Sufism is that you should be with God, without any attachment”…

To unpack this means to answer the following: You – who are you? God – what is ‘He’? Without attachment -  what is the nature of attachment and how to abandon it? Hopefully some of the answers will be alluded to through this talk which is not about the historical reality of Sufism but reflects something of the experienced reality.

We all use the terminology of journeying when we refer to our spiritual progress or realizing aspirations of any kind. The allegory of a road or path to be travelled on in pursuit of our spiritual needs is tremendously useful but also misleading. Useful in that we live in time - we grow physically, our eyes and feet face forward, we make progress in learning skills, behaviours, sciences. Useful in that we live in space and much of our sensory perception is dictated by us in relation to other points in the space we perceive around us. We can relate to the idea of following a spiritual way of life as following a path, as a linear journey from point to point. We anticipate that the journey has a beginning and an end. It is finite in its promise. Awakening, enlightenment, inner illumination all sound as if they will set us free. 

But it is also misleading precisely because it engenders a notion of accumulative merit, of progress that can be charted, mapped and also acknowledged or rewarded and of destinies reached. It is misleading because it keeps us referring to time and space, and therefore to achievement of goals and acquisition and the limitations of these dimensions. It is misleading – almost treacherously so for those who aspire to spiritual awakening – because it affirms duality rather than unity. There is the path. There I am journeying on it. Me and it. Two. Not one.

And for anyone who has spent time in the company of the Sufis or their literature, particularly of Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri, or any of the tawhidi  traditions in other religions, will already know that the dimensions of space and time exist as convenient frameworks in which we can experience ‘life as we know it’; that our cognition is imbued by the faculty of the khayaal (and indeed other inner senses) to engage with the universe around us in ways that both collectively and individually make sense. We do experience space and time very much as coherent realities.

Sufism the Science of Unified Being

Sufism or the science of tasawwuf is therefore the practice and knowledge of calling the self’s bluff off the notion that we exist in separation, tucked away in space and time, away from our happiness, our salvation, our freedom, cut off or ‘far away’ from God. And of the idea that to get to it we must endure arduous and grueling journeys. Or that only the best, most pious or assiduous will attain or achieve their goal. The great Shadhili Master Ibn ‘Ata Allah wrote that a mistake that takes you to the carpet of humility is better than a righteous one that makes you smug and self-satisfied.

What tasawawuf debunks is separation from our Source, from the lode-stone of all power, life, love, glory, splendor, majesty and beauty; from the vastness of creation and beyond. What tasawwuf teaches is that there is no atom of which Allah is unaware, no space or place or moment or nanosecond. Indeed all is embedded in His consciousness, His beingness, His love. In some unfathomable way we are folded into layers of something beyond our ken.

The Sufi mission, as it were, it to heed the call from Allah to witness His presence around and in us. La ilāha illa’Llah. To unite outer and inner, to stress the inner as the key to the outer. Some spiritually perceptive contemporary scholars identify that the work of Sufism is to cultivate the soul. This brings it in synch with many ancient and New Age philosophies and practices. But we can discern a differentiated focus in our teachings.

As a student of Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri I have been shown a more evolved and refined understanding of this idea, namely, that the soul in essentia cannot be cultivated, for it is from the command of the Lord, and the Lord is perfect. As a beam of light from the source of all perfection, of Light itself, the nature of the soul is perfect and therefore not in need of cultivation. What does need cultivation is the way this soul manifests, through the refining the dross of the self into the gold of higher consciousness. 

When the Qur’an repeatedly talks of the self or soul it uses mostly one word: nafs. But this has to be read with insight of inner core (lubb) to understand which part of the self is being addressed. At times what is meant is the soul or spirit, the ruh. What SFH has clarified is that individual consciousness is made up of a spectrum, at the lower end elemental, animalistic, governed by priorities of survival and therefore presenting a consciousness that is conditioned by multitudinous forces, and at the higher, more rarified end of meaning and essence, closer to pure consciousness, and therefore governed by priorities of arrival.
So the vastness in which we seem to think we exist can only be accessible from the point where we found ourselves. That is to say the narrow portal is through self-awareness. We start here and gradually, through grooming and practice and flashes of insight we realize we are not here and He is not there, but that there is no place He is not. No second that He is not.

Imam Ali famously said, ‘…You presume you are a small entity but within you is enfolded a vast world...’

And we also realize that He is not He nor She nor It but just is. It enfolds all qualities of the opposites and multiple layers of subtlety in between and is not limited by them.


Our Paradoxical World - Duality Underlying Unity

Any student of the Academy of Self Knowledge is familiar with the mapping of conditioned consciousness and pure or supreme consciousness and the powerful interplay of duality that works throughout our experiential reality. 

As such we are familiar with the precept that while pleasures are easily acquirable in this life, enduring joy is more elusive. That if our inner state is to satisfy it has to emerge from consciousness that is not tied to the ephemeral, the relative or contingent. For everything perishes. Entropy rules. Moods can darken or sour in a moment. We have been taught and seen with our own insight that we can access a state that is unperturbed by the oscillating graph of experiential life. We know that the more our happiness is anchored in that zone, the more likely it endures in this zone. The more we are aware of pure consciousness, the freer we are from our conditioned consciousness. The ultimate freedom as far as dimensionality of existence is concerned is death. For then individual consciousness emerges with pure consciousness. Everything returns whence it came. And all that remains is what has been, is and will be, what we allude to in words like Allah’s glory, His love, His beauty, His majesty.

We are compelled to practice that death now through sleep and disappearing from the weight of our conscious selves because we know deep down, or have a good suspicion, that we are not just who we think we are – role defined, role maligned. We can taste this freedom through prayer and meditation and states that come upon us when we leave our sense of limited self and disappear into the unfathomable and vast ocean of Beingness, of Truth. These tastes are intoxicating and draw you in more and more.


Gathering, Listening, Following – the Path

It has been said that tasawwuf is gathering, listening and following.

If there is a path then it is the grooming and practice (listening) and cultivation of understanding and insight into the nature of reality and our relationship to it - embedding the body in a practice, the mind in a discipline, the heart in purification.
The path also implies guidance (following) and mentorship: a realized guide or teacher is essential.
And it also implies companionship (gathering). The company of other genuine aspirants helps to reflect in us greater self-awareness, encouragement and hope.


Gathering - Companionship

Companionship has always been a recognized aspect of the path. Gathering to be with the Shaykh or refined beings on the path or for the purposes of communal worship and invocation has been a natural cornerstone of tariqah practice for centuries. Recognition that one becomes the company one keeps and therefore one should choose wisely is a sine qua non of prophetic guidance. The Prophet (S) said ‘The Mu’min is the mirror of the Mu’min.’

The prohibition on monasticism in Islam does not contradict the strong monastic or ascetic tendency among Sufis. The need for regular retreat or uzlah, in order to contemplate inner realities and disconnect from falsity, or khalwah, solitary meditation in order to empty out and meditate exclusively on Allah, has been incorporated into the practice of each silsilah. Ultimately, however, it is the very practice of Islam – of surrender (taslim) -  that acts as the vector of transformation. Each prayer can be the magic carpet of ascension which the Prophet Muhammad (S) experienced in his Mi’raj.

Gathering is above all symbolic of unity (tawhid): bringing the individuated multi-hued self into the orbit of the luminous soul. Coming together means becoming one. And One is the secret of two.


Listening - Practice

Practice begins with the fara’id, dhikr, withdrawal, study, reciting and listening to the Qur’an. Early Sufis emphasized practising asceticism, doing without, hunger, simple dress, wandering; then onto deeper levels of charting the topography of the inner journey, adab and service. Contemporary Sufis now focus on awareness, consciousness, mindfulness.

The practices of Islam are all designed to render us sensible to  - to listen to or heed –  the call of the soul. Yet, we see that what Deen and Sunna have become a minefield of confusion and bitterness as various groups or firqas stake claim to the real version of Islam, to various triumphalist, reactionary and politicized agendas that have forgotten to address the world of the unseen, the hidden depths within the human heart or soul, and merely focused on form and technique. In this regard Shaykh Fadhlalla has been steadfast in his guidance: Go back to the Qur’an always - ‘That is the book, no doubt in it…’ [3:2].
Piety and asceticism indeed characterized the early Sufis. The Prophet (S) had said, ‘I came to perfect character’. Noble conduct, moral behavior and ethical practice is the default setting of the Sufi.
"Sufism consists of noble behavior (akhlaq karima) that is made manifest at a noble time on the part of a noble person in the presence of a noble people."  ~ Muhammad ibn Ali al-Qassab (d.888), Junayd’s master.


Following - Guidance

‘If you have no guide Shaytan is your guide.’ Sufi precept
The role of the teacher has always been central. Connected with this has been the formal commitment (bay‘ah), which implied loyalty and service. One might serve one master for a lifetime, as many as did, or several, as several did. This loyalty is symbolic of loyalty to Allah, to the covenant – the convenant of ‘Alastu’ – ‘Am I not your Lord?’ (7:71). The allegiance is to Allah. The guide is the reflector, the protector from your self. As a realized being he has cast aside his vain passions and taken a firm foothold in service to Allah. He echoes the Prophetic guidance. [1]

The guide must have several distinguishing features, but perhaps above all what Sura YaSin describes as ‘Follow him who asks of you no reward’. He must be established in the practice of Islam, expert and observant of the Shari'a.

Nonetheless the traditions of tasawwuf recognize the reality of the Owaysi, after the Yemeni Oways al-Qarani who reportedly followed the Prophet without having met him. Nowadays we can all benefit from being Owaysi through digital technology.

There is however no substitute for the quality of transmission from being in the physical presence of a realized master. I believe the vibrational signature of the ‘arif or shaykh easily penetrates the falsity of the aspirant’s persona so the light of truth can shine into the darkness of the self’s shadows. This truth also explains the ongoing effect, post-death, of the awliya’. The imprint of their presence resides and radiates not only from the physical place where they are buried, but also from the etheric plane, in so much as one attunes oneself to their flavor and light.

But the ultimate Guide is Allah Himself, in His manifestation of al-Rashid, al-Hadi and other attributes. We have been called and unto Him we return.


Delighting the Soul – ma'rifa

The goal of the practice of the Deen, dhikr, and of following the guide is ma‘rifa or ‘irfan (from ‘arafa to know), or gnosis - God consciousness.

Only by escaping the contingent reality of the limited self and its animalistic tendencies, can the aspirant escape to the realm of lights, the soul’s reflection of Divine Perfection. There, beyond space and time and the confusions of duality, lies a profound harmony, peace and stillness which deifies even these descriptions. We can only allude to them. The more this state is accessed, the stronger its echo becomes and what remained deeply almost unconsciously internalized, gradually extrudes, imperceptibly, into the very substance of life. Here it is that baraka is experienced - serendipity, and perfect sustenance.
When asked about tasawwuf Junayd replied: "Our madhhab is the singling out of the pre-eternal from the contingent, the desertion of human brotherhood and homes, and obliviousness to past and future.”

It can be a struggle. It is not easy. Holding oneself to account means practicing ever-deepening self-awareness. How can one ever be satisfied with anything of this world, when it is ephemeral and unreliable? At times it can feel like a battle. Junayd also said of Sufism, "It is a war in which there is no peace."


Language

A few words on language and the term. Sufis found their literary expression through a rich tradition of treatises, lexicons, collections of aphorisms, commentaries on the Qur’an, and above all poetry.  Over time the terminology of Sufism has developed, for it is a living tradition that reflects time, place and circumstance. In its earliest manifestations it wasn’t even known by the name or ‘ism’ of Sufism. Terms like ‘irfan and ma’rifa were more common in certain geographical areas. The term tasawwuf eventually became the catch all term to denote the phenomenon of those who would focus on the inner worlds as the direct and necessary complement of outer worlds.

Over time a technical lexicon has grown to help identify states and stations and realities of the journey, which benefits from being revisited and rehoused into present times. Society has changed. Lifestyles have altered. Priorities differ and the global stranglehold of materialism has altered how we think. How does one apply zuhd, for example, in a time where living without insurance or stuff is almost impracticable? The inner reality of what these terms signify never changes, but how our consciousness connects does. We need to read the sickness of the times in order to apply the appropriate remedies.[2]

The power of the word - the goodly word - is dyed into the spiritual fabric of Islam through the divine revelation of the Qur’an. From the beginning its recitation – the word of God - was the main avenue to connecting to a higher state. The word as command – KUN! – preceded form. The word is energy. The word transmits. And then we have to go beyond mere words.

The Qur’an is the fundamental directional point for the path of tasawwuf, for the Sufi seeks to realize the pre-creational covenant of ‘Alastu’ in his waking consciousness. Before being self aware, each of our souls had submitted and agreed to Allah’s Lordship over us. Once born into self-differentiated beingness, tasawwuf calls us to honour that covenant by our own volition and bending ourselves into submission or alignment with that reality.


The Organ of Gnosis

Gnosis or ma’rifa, deep inner knowing, is not a by-product of mere intellection, of exercising the faculty of reason. It is a higher order of intuitive knowing which we can relate to consciousness. The Sufis, especially luminaries like Ibn ‘Arabi, emphasized that it is the heart (qalb) which is the organ which produces gnosis of Allah. It is the interface whereby we can connect to ‘ilm al-Batin, the science of inner beingness. As long as the qalb is free of attachment, turning on its unitary axis (qalb derives from the verb to turn or revolve), its radar will pick up all the signs on the horizon and within ourselves.

The business of tasawwuf therefore is the polishing of the heart. Emptying the heart from its attachments and idols is the daily work and the cause of our vigilance.

Concluding Remarks

I feel there is no narrowness, no path, no dimensions in the approach or awakening to Truth. Truth is. It encompasses everything, vast beyond measure.

At most the Sufi stops being a self.

The self cannot comprehend the Truth unless through the light of the soul. Less self = more soul = more vision, certainty and witnessing perfection.

From shamanistic times through the growth of religions until the post-industrial Cartesian times, human civilization has been largely compliant to a notion of Godhead or higher authority. Now, however, it is no longer God or the Supernatural that we feel we must obey but other imperatives like social order, progress, and self fulfilment, etc. Pleasing God is now pleasing the self.

Yet the self will never be pleased – appeased maybe, but only if it submits to and serves the soul’s purpose, which is to resonate harmoniously with its qualities of light, harmony, generosity and all the other virtues that reflect infinite Divine Attributes. All else is aberration and waste within the realms of time and space.

Once life-experience cease the truth is self-evident. The veils of existence are finally torn and in that pure light everything vanishes.

The goal of tasawwuf, of this ‘path’, is to render your form and substance unto your Essence through the free turning of the heart, the locus of consciousness.

You die to yourself, to your evil attributes. You die to creation, to even good attributes. You die to attachments to attributes and principles. A series of deaths befalls you so you come alive to your soul, in small tastes, in larger ones, through practice, company, guidance and reflection.
 "Tasawwuf means that Allah causes you to die to your self and gives you life in Him."                     



[1] After I gave this talk, I was asked why I hadn’t emphasized following the Prophet Muhammad, so I have added this sentence here. Love of Allah goes hand in hand with love of the Prophet (S). Doubtless this is but one of many shortcomings of this general talk. I hope, however, that the idea of following and loving the example of the Prophet (S) is implicit overall.
[2] The last few sentences have been added subsequent to delivering the talk as I had skipped this part from my notes.

Monday, 9 September 2013

Nautical or Botanical

'A traveler without observation is a bird without wings' ~ Sa'di

Its been a while since I've posted anything here. And I've been curiously indifferent to that. Altered states and all.

Actually what happened is anchors were pulled. Unmoored from the deep docks of my gravely engraved life-roles (wife, mother, begum sahiba and dutiful daughter-in-law), my galleon morphed into a spinnaker. I sped the seas and skimmed the waves. Sea spray sprinkled much needed minerals all over me and I absorbed them hungrily. I travelled, taught, explored, fasted, cooked, communed, retreated, and celebrated. A set of different life roles slipped over me effortlessly: teacher, connector, and yes, relationship roles like sister, daughter, mother (with kids on two continents that one's inescapable!), friend, mirror, partner in crime (shshsh...you know who you are!) - all different because of the speed and sleekness with which I sailed.

The deracination of travel is salutary. And I have not yet been able to process the unfurling of events. The sails keep puffing and billowing. Being and becoming have been clipping each other like racing dolphins weaving through the surf.

In my case, most of the travel I do is usually one of transplantation. The process oxygenates the very roots of my tenuous selfhood and remineralises the sensitive sheathes of sensory nerves.  My phototropic radar seems to pick up more 'signs' than before. Since the brain wasn't being drained by mandatory Domestos (there's 'mandatory' and 'incidental' - one can never quite escape 'incidental' Domestos), the synapses crackled and fizzed with input feeding into other planes of consciousness. Supra-nutrients like winter colours, crisp smells, the thrill of walking as opposed to being driven, the feel of cold air on the cheek, trading in ontologies with questing hearts, concentrations of willing and witnessing...all these particles have been seeping through osmotically.

And then added to this feast  was another bulge in the dimension of space-time,  a bubble of intimate family time, full of tropical azures and aquamarines, fragrant frangipanis, pungent prawns and perfumed pandan...time just being,  breathing, laughing and sharing. And a bad mattress... Sun salutations saved me!

The spinnaker has been reberthed. Time to wash the sea-salt off. The plant has been repotted. Time to let it settle. But I'm not quite sure which ship or plant has returned. Definition is defied.




Tuesday, 30 July 2013

SLAIN - Poem



Slain am I by this laser intention
that sliced in half a competing volition
a powerful coil ready to spring
from flesh to flesh and cling
regardless of circumspection
to realize desire’s possession.

Slain am I by this accurate arrow
that scooped up along the narrow
shaft the ego-desires pulsating
eager to form into a hackneyed painting
and pinned them deadly instead
into remembrance’s reed-bed.

Slain am I by the cloak embracing
velvet heavy desire’s shadow tracing
drawn back revealing a beam
of white gold light that streams
and floods and fills and kills
ego-Bacteria that would roam still.

Slain am I by the sledge-hammer mercy
affording Light the cutting courtesy
to shine light upon light and therefore
reveal the original melodic score
of the sibilant song of Alast
sung when this turning heart did burst.

Slain am I into wordlessness
bewildered by Truth’s wholeness
this lump of mouthy muscle stilled
in rose-garden awe and yet spilled
helplessly onto this pixel page
a scented postcard to Love’s sage.

(Ramadan, Brooklyn, 2013)

Ramadan Closing In


Ramadan is closing in. This year this month has sped by. For the first time in years I've been away from home base, though in homes away from home - how blessed am I? The pekoras and samosas have followed me, however, as I've tried to ensure my son gets his daily quotas of desi iftar fare. The open plan layout of the house we are in reeks of fried food for hours afterwards, uncorrected even by wafts of cloying incense. After years of resistance to the semiotic symbolism of food, I have yielded to the perceived reality that food frames culture (or culture frames food?) and that culinary culture is one hugely influential anchorage of religion. If savoury spicy treats help keep my boy connected to his Deen, then so be it!

Shorter days and clement weather of a southern hemisphere's winter have reduced Ramadan wipeouts. I felt for my UK friends - heatwaves and long 18 hour days. May the reward be commensurate with the difficulty! No Ramadan rage threatened here. The dry, high atmosphere introduced me to a new form of 'Ramadan brain': the suction cup effect where your grey matter feels like its dessicating and sticking to your skull interior.

That most delicious gift of Ramadan, the fleecy blanket of inner silence, has also been gratefully received. At times the white noise percolates and penetrates the precariously porous and amorphous presence of consciousness - and peppers my vocabulary with purple passages (so who cares?) - but the sheer weight of the fast makes it easy to relocate the mute button on the inner monologue function. Can it really be so simple a matter of blood sugar? That its dilution beings inner peace? There's a hadith that alludes to this (sic., 'Shaytan flows through the sons of Adam as blood flows through his veins")... Or is it the special grace that comes from the sacralized intention of the fast ('Fasting is for Me and I am its reward'  - hadith qudsi)? After all, of all the obligatory ritual obligations due from a Muslim, fasting is the most invisible. Allah alone knows whether you are fulfilling its tenets or not.

The remembrance of God heightens, as with each breath conscious awareness of one's inner state increases. In Ramadan it becomes easier to give up and give in as one notices the degree of dependency one has on means - food, water, indulging desires, loose talk. Its quite humbling to see what a hold habits have on us. One evening, during some frisky dinner time banter, I got my hands slapped for wittering on in what really amounted to gossip, the type of gossip where irrelevant news about someone amounts to frivolous talk, even though no malice had been intended. What had been the purpose of my verbal drivel? Was I conscious of every word? No. Blood sugar had begun to rise once again and those satanic impulses started slithering around in me too. Shudder!

Ramadan is commonly thought of by Muslims as the month par excellence to devote to the Qur'an. Our Noble Book gets a thorough dusting as tradition encourages us to read a juz' a day. For me, quality over quantity is my preference - I can bask for hours in commentary and etymology, entering into an imaginarium of endless and deepening delight. The beauty and majesty of the Word of God once again thrills me with its multi-dimensionality, speaking in time, beyond time, allegorically, emphatically. All signs point to the one underlying truth: la ilaha illa'llah - there is no god but Allah. And it is the fast that enables us see this Oneness better than at any other time of the year. Day after day the ego-self's hold is weakened as a new strength starts to beam through. The soul's light starts to illuminate our beingness, and states of grace descend, moments of deep tranquillity stretching in all directions through one's innermost.

The last ten nights - according to an Islamic tradition offering us freedom from the fires of hell - coincide with the Night of Determination, or Destiny, or Power, the Laylat ul-Qadr. We are protected from knowing exactly which night it might have been that the Qur'an in its entirety was revealed to our beloved prophet Muhammad (S), merely that it is one of the odd numbered. Because of various traditions, the Shi'as prefer one of the earlier odd nights, the Sunnis preferring one of the latter ones. Those who would hedge bets try to observe them all. Regardless, the importance of this night is indicated in the chapter in the Qur'an by the same name, in which it is declared that it is 'better than a a thousand months'. One night...better than a thousand months?! However unfathomable, who isn't going to want to try to witness this event? The moment in time it alludes to is a deep and unending mystery.

The traditions of night vigil practised by Muslims in different ways helps push us out of our comfort zone. Even if it is but a portion of the night, the baraka of Ramadan ensures a benefit is gained. In Karachi those fortunate to belong to distinct communities have ready made opportunities to gather and pray together, whether to read 10 raka'at, or 100, whether to recite 99 Names of God or the 1000 of the incrementally intoxicating beautiful litany of Jawshan al-Kabir.

Already stripped and polished by the fast, staying up in prayer and contemplation loosens the subtle rust on the heart's mirror. Our sense of time is ruptured, and small portals into timelessness start to shiver into the landscape of consciousness. Through fasting of the senses, we can taste the feast of what lies beyond the limitations of these senses, an infinite, expanding universe that encapsulates time and space, precedes it and follows it and rolls it all up in its Presence.

Thursday, 23 May 2013

Bewilderment - Poem

I'm such a cheat. In the sense of the blogging ideal of stream of consciousness. In the sense of the promise of 'nowness' that these fora put out. For sometimes I post poems I've written a while ago, even years ago. Whatever their merit, these poems seem to want an airing, and so I let them, unjudged by any poetocracy. But here's something that wrote itself today. Sometimes I wish I could just stay silent. The Sufis teach not to blab about everything going on inside, to let it well and fill until it spills. The blabbing can even work against you, diminishing the gift. Maybe this poem, then, is spillage. I checked my pulse: in the spirit of 'wa amma bi ni'mati rabbika fahaddith' (And your Lord's blessings proclaim) I'm sharing it.

Sometimes, when you are caught, stuck - of course its all a perceived state - you feel suffocated. No one's throttling you of course. Even as you do your pranayama, within a few minutes of having disappeared into your breath, the stuckness reasserts. A diligent 360 degree perusal leaves you in utter bewilderment. The stuckness looms magnificent. You are crushed by the awesomeness of your total inability and incapacity. Majestic marvelousness! No matter which way you approach it, no matter what you throw at it, no matter how much attar of Oud and Rose, sometimes, the only way to be with it is to be IN it. Just be in it... and die.


Bewilderment



Bewilderment
a sacrament
to the lotus-petals
waiting in ivory
for permission
to unfurl from
cornered rigid
oxygen-free no-space
between a rock and a hard place
eyes wide blind
Die before you die
implode the geode
of the marooned ‘me’
disappearing dissolving
until yielding
the scent of satori
rises blossoming
a harmonic tonic
of saffron gold
luminous ionic
a chronicle foretold.
 



Wednesday, 8 May 2013

To Be A Sufi



To be a Sufi means to yearn for Allah more than anything else

To be a Sufi means to despair of your self while having utter hope of Allah

To be a Sufi means to seek communion with the Beloved, secretly and outwardly, here, there and everywhere

To be a Sufi means to see with the eye of tawhid – to see the One behind multiplicity

To be a Sufi means to be utterly humble on the carpet of worship and strive for perfect adab in transactions

To be a Sufi means to know you possess nothing material – you’re merely a guardian

To be a Sufi means to claim no ownership of the immaterial qualities of noble character, but to see them as reflections of Divinity

To be a Sufi means that one cannot live without bathing in Allah’s pleasure and can only live by floating along the river of His baraka

To be a Sufi means to be in this world but not be owned by it

To be a Sufi means to celebrate calamities as opportunities

To be a Sufi means to accept windfalls cautiously

To be a Sufi means to love others on the same path for they are brothers in aspiration – who knows upon whom Allah bestows arrival?

To be a Sufi is to tolerate and love all others – Allah’s creation, not yours!

To be a Sufi means never to judge by outward appearance alone, or even at all

To be a Sufi means to automatically reach for Allah in constriction or expansion

To be a Sufi means to feel the overflow of Allah’s love in ease or difficulty

To be a Sufi means to know - and seek -  that meaning is expressed in form and has its due courtesy

To be a Sufi means to see through appearances – things are often not what they seem

To be a Sufi is to strive for the best in conduct, speech and transaction

To be a Sufi means to take of this world its gifts and fruits without succumbing to its temptations

To be a Sufi is to adore Beauty and to see the beautiful in what others think ugly

To be a Sufi is to leave things better than when you found them

To be a Sufi is to have a heart constantly overflowing with glorification and praise of Allah

To be a Sufi is not to see oneself but to know the self in its fujur and taqwa

To be a Sufi is to tread lightly on this earth without taking more than your allotted share

To be a Sufi is to have a whirling heart in constant contact with its Creator

To be a Sufi is to prefer others over yourself

To be a Sufi is to honour your true self

To be a Sufi is to never let the weed of idols take root in the garden of your heart

To be a Sufi is to role-play without typecasting yourself

To be a Sufi is to always make du’a your first port of call for change

To be a Sufi is to be dynamic, not static

To be a Sufi is to distinguish impulses of Divine inspiration from impulses of one’s own illusion

To be a Sufi is to be free and abandoned in heart while sober and firm in the outer

To be a Sufi is to suffer moments of forgetfulness as one suffers from the consequences of major sins

To be a Sufi is to pierce the veils of existence with the sword of insight

To be a Sufi is to overflow with compassion for creation without attachment to results or expectations

To be a Sufi is to be oblivious of one’s high qualities and achievements while painfully aware of one’s defects and failures

To be a Sufi is to know that ‘being’ a Sufi is a lie

To be a Sufi is to welcome censure and correction

To be a Sufi is to be committed in the service of Allah

To be a Sufi means to recognize your shaykh as the mirror of your higher self, your potential and not to resist his reflection

To be a Sufi is to joyfully accept your outer limitations while inwardly bathing in limitlessness

To be a Sufi is to know and accept that the world of the Unseen is vaster, broader and greater than the seen

To be a Sufi is to keep the company of Angels

To be a Sufi is to live a life of love

To be a Sufi is to live and die in grace



©Muna H. Bilgrami 2007



Thursday, 2 May 2013

Jangled and tingled into harmony

by Azerbaijani artist Rashad Alakbarov

A blog by definition requires regular input - a daily web log. If not daily then intermittently. At least that's the general idea.

I find I've been unable to pay it much attention these days as so much has been going on - visitors, family reunited, daughter's high school graduation, work projects, research, not to mention battening down the hatches as bomb blasts wreak their domino effects on life in the city by the sea. Outer explosions do seem to trigger inner implosions; not so much of depression, but of sharp edged sobriety.

Perhaps if I had more than 6 followers I would feel more obliged to share my creative juices. I'm not convinced there is much interest out there in what I have to say - which is fine, because my real motivation in maintaining this blog is simply to say it regardless. The sharing is a compulsion. And I don't try to labour the posts. There's a stackload of blogposts titled and waiting to be written. When they come they write themselves quite swiftly. She's good that way, my muse.

But I haven't been able to get to the saying space much of late. Haven't even wanted to. Been too busy processing stuff and figuring things out. Observing. The multiple strands of life have been busily weaving  themselves into Kaffir Kalash braids. Vying tides swell the salty sea of existence into peaks and troughs.Like the coloured perspex pieces in Rashad Alakbarov's genius artwork, disparate shaped pieces float in seemingly random, asymmetrical order, unrelated to each other, but when light from a further vantage point is shone through them, the puzzle is resolved.

Lots of silence and emptying out has therefore been needed. So many noises and voices have been competing, half of them outside, half of them inside. There's a veritable cacophony going on in the inner menagerie. I've lost count of all the creatures and characters. And right now they are not sorting themselves out into coherent, separate narratives, but barking at each other with snarls and growls, grunts and squeals, rattles and chirps.

So jangled is where I'm at. And that's ok. I am witnessing the being jangled. I am curious about when the interior strings may cohere into a  baroque symphony, or when the timpani and brass might suddenly go fortissimo like the canon blast in Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture. Meanwhile I will enjoy the occasional and clear tingle from a triangle being percussed. They provide the punctuation in the slowly aggregating dissonance. Some light relief. A sonorous soprano sound signifying simplicity (the alliteration is accidental!) that will soon manifest.

Fa idha faraghta f'ansab, wa ila rabbika f'arghab
[94:7-8] trans: Tarif Khalidi