The real object of your affection
December 9, 2013
A lover was once admitted to the presence of his mistress, but, instead of embracing her, he pulled out a paper of sonnets and read them to her, describing her perfections and charms and his own love towards her at length. His mistress said to him, "You are now in my presence, and these lover's sighs and invocations are a waste of time. It is not the part of a true lover to waste his time in this way. It shows that I am not the real object of your affection, but that what you really love is your own effusions and ecstatic raptures.
“I see, as it were, the water which I have longed for before me, and yet you withhold it. I am, as it were, in Bulgaria, and the object of your love is in Cathay. One who is really loved is the sole object of her lover, the Alpha and Omega of his wishes. As for you, you are wrapped up in your own amorous raptures, depending on the varying states of your own feelings, instead of being wrapped up in me."
(adapted from E.H. Whinfield, M.A.’s translation
of Masnavi i Ma’navi: Teachings of Rumi, p. 187)
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If the Beloved reveals Its Presence to you, will you continue to recite prepared expressions of praise and adoration instead of embracing, to be embraced by, the Beloved?
Many are drawn to the words of Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi because of the astounding beauty of ecstatic love within such expressions. Even through (sometimes very loose) translations of his words, the power of love’s song reflects powerfully. People sometimes become so enraptured in these expressions of love they forget the purpose of such genuine expressions: to call into the focus of our awareness the realization of the ever-present Presence of the Beloved, of Truth. The aim of visitation into ecstatic expressions of love is to realize and eventually rest within the unending flow of Love that is the Beloved...
This dynamic of humans becoming so enraptured with expressions of love that they ignore the Presence of Beloved is nothing new. Even in Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi’s day, he saw the need to share this parable of warning for some who were granted the grace to sit in the presence of his living breath. Yet the warning still applies even centuries later for those who would make the rapture of expressions of love more important than the revealed Presence of Love.
Remembrance of the Beloved, often transliterated from Arabic as Dhikr or Zikr, is a staple practice of many Sufi orders. This can include chanting the names of Allaah (aloud or silent), reciting verses from the Qur’aan or supplications upon the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), or even meditative methods that turn one’s attention to the heart wherein the Beloved dwells. A reason for these practices is explicitly declared in the Qur’aan, where the Beloved states: “Therefore remember Me, I will remember you. Give thanks to Me, and reject not Me.” (Surah 2, Verse 152, Translation by Marmaduke Pickthall) This is further affirmed by the following hadith (saying of Muhammad):
The Prophet (p.b.u.h.) said: Allaah says: I am in
accordance with the thoughts of My servant about
Me; and I am with someone, when that one
remembers Me. If one remembers Me in one's heart, I
also remember that one in My heart. If one
remembers Me in a group, I remember that one in a
better group (i.e. angels). If one draws near Me by the
span of a palm, I draw near that one by an arm’s
length. If one draws near Me by an arm’s length, I
draw near that one by the space covered by two arms.
If one walks towards Me, I go to that one running.
(adapted from 110 Hadith Qudsi, translated
by Syed Masood-ul-Hasan, Hadith #50, p. 64)
So there is clear guidance indicating the treasure of remembering the Beloved. If we are sincere in such remembrance, the Beloved not only remembers us but “comes” to us by revealing Its Presence. The ecstatic bliss of this can be overwhelming as many have testified of the indescribable joy experienced in the midst of such remembrance. And the mind, attaching to the pleasure of such bliss, can be driven to desire more of this pleasure by seeking to perform more of the acts of remembrance. If it is chanting that unveils this pleasure, we may continue to chant ignoring that the experience of bliss indicates the Presence of the Beloved before us. This can happen in the moment of practicing dhikr or even play out in one’s life evolving to a sustained state of being more pleasant. But, as Jalaal ud-Diin’s parable warns, when the Beloved reveals Its Presence will you continue to read sonnets of prepared text (prescribed practices) instead of embracing the Beloved? Will you ignore the revealed Presence of the Beloved for the sake of the pleasure realized through chosen forms of remembrance and worship?
This is not to say that once the Presence of the Beloved is revealed, that we should abandon practices of remembrances. Even if in the moment of such revealing we continue to recite sonnets of adoration, be sure to embrace the Presence of the Beloved. But if, in the blindness of pleasurable ecstasy, you continue to recite sonnets of love without embracing the Beloved, it indicates that the Beloved is “not the real object of your affection, but that what you really love is your own effusions and ecstatic raptures. ” This can be a subtle distinction to make, one which the mind is not best suited to realize, particularly when imbrued with the pleasure of bliss. Yet the wise have provided clear guideposts to prevent the mind from becoming lost unto itself in the revealing of the Beloved’s Presence. These include the virtues of focus and humility.
When the sole object of remembrance (and the accompanying practices that purify us to remember with clarity) is the Beloved, this seemingly simple focus protects us from being pulled to other “objects” (i.e. pleasure). Are we engaging practices of remembrance for the sake of remembering alone, whether it is pleasurable or not? Whether we “experience” something or not? Whether we “achieve” some state or not? To perform practices of remembrance for the sole sake of remembrance AND without any expectation protects us from experiencing something (usually pleasant) and then forming an expectation for that, even if it’s a subtle one. To remain in the discipline of keeping the focus only on the Beloved protects you from being “wrapped up in your own amorous raptures, depending on the varying states of your own feelings.” With many Islamic practices, practitioners are instructed to begin by saying: “Bismillaah Ar-Rahmaan, Ar-Rahiim” (In the name of Allaah, the Beneficent, the Merciful). Are we merely saying this phrase (or other similar phrases) as a matter of routine or as an act of focusing our intent and attention on the Beloved?
Humility prevents us from slipping into an approach of self-importance whereby we measure the purpose of our practices by how it affects the ego. When the ego is allowed any importance, it often measures the value of something by whether it is pleasing or not. Ego-centeredness is often a subtle slippery slope, wherein the purpose of our acts can quickly shift to the pleasure of the ego without our awareness of such a shift. I am reminded of a saying I learned: “if you give the ego a centimeter, it will take the whole universe.” In such a manner, one taste of pleasure experienced in remembrance can turn acts of remembrance into a pleasure-seeking pursuit where the pleasure derived by remembrance becomes more important than embracing that which we seek to remember.
Doubt not that when we remember the Beloved, the Beloved remembers us. And, to the extent of our sincerity and devotion, the Presence of Beloved’s Remembrance will unfold to us. In our remembrance, remember to embrace the Beloved’s Presence when it is revealed. Do not lose the purpose of remembrance in (the pleasure of) remembrance itself. For whatever we do regarding the Beloved, the Beloved reciprocates in a more abundant multiplying manner...
