June 11, 2014
We are those who have found our healing ointment from Love,
And who have offered our breaths to Love in every moment.
So that every breath of ours may go toward Love,
Love finds its own breath in our every breath.
(from The Quatrains of Rumi, translated by
Ibrahim Gamard and Rawan Farhadi, p. 452)
***
The fullness Love is beyond definition because, in the Sufi context, Love is the Beloved. Often any descriptions offered of Love and its attributes are intended to aid us in navigating the trappings of duality so that we surrender to that Oneness that can only reveal Itself. A person cannot find Love because Love is always here, in the heart of every being; every thought, action, and outward inclination we partake of veils this unhidden Truth. Even language such as “lover” and “the Beloved” seek to reveal where we make distinctions from the pervading Oneness of Love by acting in ways that distinguish “I” (ego) in the illusion of duality. There is a hadith, saying of the Prophet Muhammad (p.b.u.h.), that states that the Beloved declared: “I was a hidden treasure wishing to be known.” In Oneness the Beloved cannot know itself because every point of knowing requires at least two points of distinction: a subject and an object. But in Oneness there is only Oneness. Just as the eyeball never sees itself, it became “necessary” to unleash creation so that this knowing could occur. But it is not always a linear and logic knowing. Anytime we encounter something in union in which the “individual I” disappears, we have approached the threshold of Love: a doorway to that which no words will suffice to explain. Beyond this threshold is the life of Life, unfolding as an endless ocean of eternal Eternity.
We are those indicates that Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi is talking about a distinct group, not a general reference to humanity or even the fold of those who seek Love. What is the distinction: those who have found our healing ointment from Love. There must first be an illness before healing can occur. And for how many of us are illness and suffering the escorts that bring us to the table of spirituality? It may be helpful to understand illness in a larger context as being hardships that bind us to worldly existence, which are different than hardships that prune us for spiritual growth.
From the Sufi perspective, the root of the overwhelming majority (if not all) illnesses is that we turn away from the Beloved and our heart, that innermost place within which is a dwelling for the Beloved. We then often accompany such turning away with acts that cover the heart, often acts seeking or providing temporary pleasure. Such pursuit fills the mind with impressions that we should seek relief (healing) outside of ourselves (in the world). This not only covers with dust the path leading inward to the heart, but subjects the mind to outward-oriented habits that can be very difficult to break.
Even worldly people acknowledge the healing power of Love, but rare are those who surrender the whole of their lives to the healing balm of Love. Such surrender calls for turning every single aspect of one’s life to Love and then turning inward to the heart. Perhaps traumatic and intense episodes of suffering will turn one to a path that points to the heart, but people often abandon these when they start to feel better. They return to thinking they can navigate their challenges and illnesses with the mind, seeking healing and relief from external things. Of course, these only prove to be fleeting at best. But those who this quatrain refers to surrender the whole of their lives to Love, offering our breaths to Love in every moment. We should remember that surrender in the Islamic context is always complete and without conditions; there is no such thing as partial surrender in traditional Islam.
Rare do we stop to think that every single breath can turn us toward or away from Love and the heart. The call of surrender demands that we render every single breath toward Love. Consider how many breaths you take in a minute, an hour, a day. And how these days culminate into months, years, and decades. How many of these breaths have you taken with at least the intention of turning inward toward the heart? Given the intense conditioning of the world, particularly in this day and age, if we don’t at least have the intention of turning inward our breaths most likely turn us outward and away from the heart. Having the intention doesn’t guarantee fulfillment, but the presence of a pure intention at least acknowledges that every breath beholds a sacred opportunity. Setting this intention to certain spiritual practices can then pave the way, through surrender, to allow Love to draw our breaths to it. For this reason, meditation is embraced as a daily practice for many traditional Sufi orders.
We should be clear that we cannot breathe our way to Love. But, given the creative ingenuity of the mind, we can certainly breathe our way to an idea of Love. As much as Love can reflect upon our thoughts, no thought can fully encompass or even comprehend Love. Yet the mind can be such a barrier, embossed in the habit of having to do something -- even if that action is to think.
Consider this: is the thought of a tree a tree? A tree can be right in front of your eyes, simply being as it is, but if you formulate a thought of the tree (such as an opinion that it’s pretty) now there is the thought of the tree and the tree, two “entities” instead of just the tree. We mostly think in bunches, so in most situations once we start thinking about the tree we may have anywhere from five to fifty thoughts: assessments of its many characteristics as well as opinions about if we find these attributes favorable or not. So quickly and often unaware the tree itself gets clouded in a barrage of thoughts we conceive and add to the simple sight of the tree.
Setting the intention is not so much an affirmative act but instead an acknowledgment of this tendency of the unrestrained mind combined with the willingness to restrain this tendency. When embraced with sincerity, the practice of intention can start to still the active habits the mind has fallen into. Just as if you were a driving a car 90 miles per hour and needed to turn around, it would make sense to apply to the brakes and reduce your speed before turning. The practice of intention can be used in a manner similar to applying the brakes, slowing down the outward-oriented activity of the mind. But then comes the choice we make within the domain of free will: to surrender and allow Love to draw its breaths to It or not.
We should not underestimate the importance of surrendering our free will. Such calls for complete honesty. We can delude ourselves into thinking we are truly surrendering, even put forth a grand spiritual facade, but if we hold on to even one little preference Love sees our bluff. And as Love does not compel, rarely will It draw our breaths to It if this is the case.
So we set the intention by offering our breaths to Love in every moment. This means offering our breath in every single moment, not making a promise from here until we die to offer our present and forthcoming breaths. In fact, spiritual practices such as meditation are designed to set an undistracted time and space for just this -- outside the countless pulls of daily activity. As we deepen our surrender in “practice time,” we are more easily able to do so in the midst of normal worldly activities. Most will have limited success at first, as something will come along that pulls our breath outward through the power of desires. When you want and seek something, that is what you are breathing for in that moment. The task then is to return our focus to the intention. With continued dedicated practice (and perhaps guidance from a teacher), we approach the station where we relinquish the habit of the outward pull of our breaths. When such mental activity has diminished, we can then turn inward -- toward the heart -– to genuinely allow that every breath of ours may go toward Love. Then, in the deepening stillness of such allowance, Love finds its own breath in our every breath. Love yearns to do so but, as stated earlier, in respecting our free will Love rarely compels Its breath into our breaths.
This goes beyond the thought of allowing every breath to go toward Love, because even the thought of doing such adds multiple thoughts to what is simply surrender, allowance, and stillness. Yet when one becomes aware that one’s mind operates in such a way, and then sets to restrain this activity, embarking upon this approach with sincerity has been found to be a fail-proof way to allow Love to find its breath in one’s very own breath. When this happens one’s breaths, intentions, even one’s self “disappears” into the Oneness of Love, where there is only Love, only the Oneness that is Love.
not even to be loving
or to be loved,
not even to be the lover
or the beloved,
surrender to love
to let love breathe
to let love be
