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YUSUFALI: Or, Who listens to the (soul) distressed when it calls on Him, and Who relieves its suffering, and makes you (mankind) inheritors of the earth? (Can there be another) god besides Allah? Little it is that ye heed!

Iztiraab

By God, I cannot contain this feeling any longer. In Urdu, it is called "iztiraab." In English, it is "restlessness, yearning, anticipation." It is that state in which they say prayers are best heard. It is then that looking up to the sky when the answer to one's prayer is awaited.

But I reckon this last metaphor is a bit outdated. They say spirituality is evolving. There is no sky to look up to. There is now one's own self to turn to to get our prayers answered. I read this line from Urdu poetry that drives me to ecstasy each time I repeat it:

"Sawaal ban to sahee, mein teray jawaab mein hoon!"

Roughly, in English, this translates to, with a tone of gentle chiding or sweet exasperation: "Well, go on, become a question! I am awaiting to be the answer!"

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Oh dear God!
I start writing out these blogs of mine when I am in an intense state of iztiraab (or ecstasy). When it is iztiraab, I decide each time I will put my heart out here. I will tell the world that I am human to the hair & bone, I get tired of what I consider sharing and giving, I need my sleep and rest and a gentle dose of love and understanding each day. I get tired of feeling alone and struggling. I get overwhelmed by my world, and I am tempted to run away from responsibility. But the people! The state of the people and their affairs! How can I run when I most want to?

I write in a state of anguish. But it doesn't quite remain so.

I heard Shaykh Hamza Yusuf on YouTube the other night. He said, "Pray in the state of Iztiraa___!" (OK I indeed even fact-check my personal blogs, especially when it's quoting other people, and it turned out he said Iztiraar. Now that's different; it's subtler and less edgy than iatiraaB. And now I wonder if it is iztiraab I feel, or iztiraar. God knows I am full enough to be feeling some of each, and then some!)

Bless fact-checking and scholarship! It indeed took my mind off whatever its state is!
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And so it is iztiraar - "agitation, constraint, helplessness" - in which prayers are best made and heard. The Lord is the Lord of all creation, and Master of all states of the heart, and I am certain iztiraab qualifies just as well.
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I prayed in my iztiraab and iztiraar - admittedly I am doing quite the contrary of good sense and despairing more than hoping. Silly woman, me. There are nights like these when I feel utterly alone. I wonder if my heart will be understood? I tire of myself, honestly, when I take the weight of the world upon my shoulders. But seeing people's tribulations and their misunderstanding, I feel no other choice but to stay around...

I think I have to translate this "staying around." It is obvious by our design that each human is a complete entity unto themselves. While I can tire teaching or educating others, I cannot for a moment assume the responsibility of even one other life. No. It's not possible, and it's not human domain. Our domain is to do our job - which can benefit billions of souls. Just as the Sun does a single star's job, but reaches out to trillions of souls - human and others.

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So my personal, microscopic history moves with the history of the world, of the Universe, and sometimes I feel that as a burden. Tonight is one such moment. I am tired to the bone. I wonder when will people wake up? I also wish for love and compassion in my own life. I honor myself because I do not partake in the ethic of selfishness, and I am done with feeling guilty out of obligation to people with a sense of entitlement. All things kept equal, these people are in genuine need of their own consciousness, and may Allah grant them such.

I must resign from my management of world's affairs, and just be me. God, I believe, will take care of these people. Benevolence is the fundamental attribute of God. My work is ony my own search of excellence - of what is known as piety or taqwa. No more. It is beig clear on this point that will allow me to be of true service to God in whatever way God wishes.


May my iztiraar and iztiraab and may my peace and my sleep or the lack of it, may my consciousness and unconsciousness and clarity and vagueness - each living moment and state - takes me closer to Allah. May I see the Face of God, Who is at once the Most Manifest and the Most Hidden. May That Be First, may That Be Last.

Amen!

Into the Unknown!

Yesterday, for the nth time, I realized my work with my family is finished. I must leave. Th reason might be ridiculous and inexplicable to some: I'm leaving home because I support Obama.

I am not walking away because of my microscopic story. I'm walking away because of what's happening to the world.

To me, it is clear that in the face of the glocal catastrophes, people are responding in two clearly different ways:

1. They get it
2. They don't get it

It is this second type of people which one wishes had seen the reality of affairs during the cruel October of 2008. 

But, as someone said, "Never underestimate the power of self-deception."

My problem right now is that this second type have not only been clinging to their old world of permanence & dominance, but that they will betray any effort of the former type very pro-actively.

And that, to me, is disagreeable.

I believe all humans are One. But two minds are not one. It's almost ironic to see the second type as a class of humans, so I'd say the solace is that the humans of that mindset can transcend it. The second type is a mental construct, but one that's gripping a great part of humanity. 

I believe it's their choice, and that no one can be 'helped' any longer.

To me, the universal support for Obama is for the simple fact that he "gets it." And so anyon else who gets it too supports him over his opposition. This is not the age of hero worship. But it's still a time where a man who speaks of "ushering in an era of responsibility" can be a guide to those still grappling with the concept or joining to co-create a new reality.

I want to co-create that reality, and it seems that right now, that requires me to rise above personal & familial relations for as long as I am being limited by those who don't get it.

I have left home in my mind, I have left home in my heart, and now, finally, I shall leave home with all that I am: Mind, Body, Soul, Spirit.

Into the Unknown!

I Wrote All Day...

Just discovered the fantastic Red Leather Diary yesterday, through Facebook.

A certain Miss Lily Koppel discovered the decades old diary of a teenage girl, Florence Wolfson. Koppel set off on a trail and eventually met the writer of the diary - now a feisty old lady in her nineties.

This is a fascinating discovery. A line from the diary stole my heart: "Wrote all day -- and my story is still incomplete."

I have meant all this year to get my personal writing published. So far, only my business writing has made it to print, with me dragging my feet (or my reluctant heart?) over publishing of my memoirs. One question has dogged me: "Where would I end the memoir?" I am still alive, still living, still loving, still getting my heart broken, still witnessing miracles. I have not yet found the love of my life. I have not yet made a great material fortune.

I still break further and further down every day. I still haven't mastered my love and my rage. I have little to impress people with.

I have met beautiful souls, though, and I have learned a bit about the truth of loving, the kind of love that is about shining forth - about giving. I still try to learn from my own wisdom, and still falter on my way. I open my eyes every day, and no matter what hand of fortune I have been dealt, I witness beauty and the verve of life in the plainest of creations.

I know truths, but don't find who to speak it to. I love, but have trouble sharing it. I intend to remove myself from my own way of being. And my daily life, as of now, is a patient, tender struggle with myself. I have found no person worthier of love than my own Self, which has been the only constant in my life.

So that's my story. It has no conclusion. It has no morals. It has only a few twists that I magnify for my own indulgence.

Something tells my heart, and in turn my heart tells me, that even this insignificant tale matters. Not in terms of publishing and being read and eventually forgotten. But in terms of it having been lived, at all.

So. Somehow. Without a conclusion. I am writing my life's story. I am getting my memoirs published. Story by story.

Anger Management

Oh dear. I am so angry again.
 
I do need my own advice, don't I? Remove the cause of my anger out of my sight. More importantly, because there is no "there" in this Universe any longer, I have to address the cause of this anger - and resolve the problem. Removal, going away - that is not ultimately helping. One or another way, the problem keeps coming back and back, and I can't help but pay attention to it.
 
If that's what's required of me to do, that's what I shall do!