Rumi Teaches Blog Posts: 2013 - 2014 by Nashid Fareed-Ma'at - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

 

That person is drowned when... - Part 1 of 2

June 26, 2014

Absorption is such that whoever enters it is no longer there. They make no more efforts, they cease to act and move. They are immersed in the water. No action is their action; it is the action of the water. But if they flail about in the water with their hands and feet, they are not truly submerged. If they utter a cry, “I am drowning,” this too is not absorption.

Take the famous utterance, “I am Allaah.” Some people think this is a great pretension, but “I am Allaah” is in fact a great humility. Those who say, instead, “I am a servant of Allaah” believe that two exist, themselves and Allaah. But those who say, “I am Allaah” have become nothing and have cast themselves to the winds. They say, “I am Allaah” meaning, “I am not, Allaah is all. There is no existence but Allaah. I have lost all separation. I am nothing.” In this the humility is greater.

This is what ordinary people don’t understand. When they render service in honor of Allaah’s glory, their servanthood is still present. Even though it is for the sake of Allaah, they still see themselves and their own actions as well as Allaah -- they are not drowned in the water. That person is drowned when no movement, nor any action belongs to them, all their movements spring from the movement of the water.

(adapted from Fihi Ma Fihi,

translated by A.J. Arberry, p. 83 - 84)

***

 Fana fillaah is an Arabic term which is often translated as “annihilation in Allaah” or, as the above translation phrases, “absorption” into the Absolute. This station is beyond description, yet saints and prophets who “reach” this state have sometimes tried to use words to convey what this state beholds as well as encourage others. For example, to say “one exists and yet does not exist at the same time” defies logic. On the level of the mind, either one exists or one does not exist -- each aspect of this duality is predicated on the other not being for it to be. But when we come to fana fillaah, the statement is not incorrect or contradictory. In such annihilation (if this word is not too strong), we exist and yet do not exist in the “unveiled” pervading Oneness that is the Beloved.

With that said, forgive me if my words fail to precisely convey what words cannot fully capture. It is for this reason that many who “reach” this state utter no words regarding it, instead transmitting from heart to heart what they wish about this state to whom they are called to share with.

Absorption is such that whoever enters it is no longer there. Who is this whoever who is no longer there? Who is this “I?” Many are the clever minds who are fluent in spiritual jargon and reply this “I” is the ego. But what precisely is this, beyond concepts, on a practical level? What is the basis of this “I?” Take a moment to ponder this. Really, stop reading for a moment and contemplate this?

Would you consider yourself “I” if you had no body and mind to project upon? For most people, the body and mind are the canvas for their identification, even if done in subtle (and dare I say, spiritual) ways. Yet the body and mind are not “I,” even if we project an ego-based identification upon them. And it is not the body and mind, or the life lived through these, that need to be no longer there for absorption to occur.

Let’s use an example to explore this. Most humans would agree that the sun doesn’t have an ego -- if it did, this world might be in serious trouble. And according to many spiritual traditions, including Islam, the ultimate source of the sun’s power is The Beloved. So if the Beloved uses the sun to shine light upon the world, does the problem of ego-based (mis)identification lay with the form of the sun emitting rays of light? Does the sun develop an ego because this occurs? Where there is no misidentification, portents of creation serve their (divinely) intended purposes without confusion. Although the forms may be distinct on the relative plane, on the level of purpose there is no distinction (separation) between the Beloved, the sun, and the sun’s light fulfilling divine will. Just as this is with the sun, so can it be with the human who restrains one’s ego and ego-based misidentification and tendencies.

It is not necessary to discard the ego for absorption to happen; matured and deepening restraint is sufficient for this no longer there to occur. But know, that within such restraint the ego has been known to dissolve itself -- particularly for those who not only “reach” this state but dwell unendingly in it. We should not forget that, regardless of what we may think, the spiritual “journey” often begins with the ego. (I put “journey” in quotes because, as many masters have confirmed, you (that innermost essence) are the destination.) As we deepen into this “journey,” particularly those on mystic paths such as Sufism, we realize the “journey” calls for the ego to be no longer there. To ask the ego, which we embark upon this “journey” with, to annihilate itself borders on the edge of true insanity. But restraint achieved through discipline and commitment to a spiritual practice arrives at no longer there, where the ego is no longer the determining and motivating force of how we live.

We should be clear: restraint does not mean a subjugation of the free will. To replace the pulls of the ego with another set of pulls is not the traditional approach to restraint. The pulls of the ego usually blindly pull us to act and think without any consideration: I like pizza, I see pizza, I’m buying a slice of pizza without any conscious thought involved. But if I embrace a practice of restraint that forbids me from eating pizza, as I choose to uphold this decree, the pulls of the ego are made more evident. Bearing the resistance of restraining these pulls, I start to see what impressions lay in the mind that I’m allowing to dominate my thinking patterns and behavior. Once I’m aware of these, then it’s a matter of free will to choose to be pulled by the ego or to consider other factors, such as the heart, wherein the guidance of the Beloved is always guiding. In this place of discernment, we are actually able to more fully utilize the free will granted to us, even if the choice is to restrain the ego to a strict code of ethical behavior. Countless saints have done so knowing that if you give the ego a centimeter, it will seek to take the whole universe.

A grounded spiritual practice is sufficient to restrain the ego and penetrate the (many) veils that cover the heart, where the Oneness that is the Beloved dwells. When we rest in the endless depth of the heart, we are immersed in the water. No action is [our] action; it is the action of the water. The action of the Beloved performed through the portents of creation, even our bodies and minds. And sometimes even through our restrained egos.

Most of us, rooted in ego-based living, live in ways that take us away from the water. Restraint through spiritual practice becomes a means to return to the water, if we so choose: whether through “self” effort or adhering to the guidance and grace of a teacher / master. The effort of upholding such restraint can lead to confusion as to how this relates with the effortlessness of absorption. There is a place for effort in this equation: in getting back to the water we’ve foolishly wandered away from. But once within the water, all effort should cease. Therefore, Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi states: But if they flail about in the water with their hands and feet, they are not truly submerged. For some, upon initially entering the water, we may need to exert effort to not leave it until the tendencies which led us away from the water have been diminished by continuing restraint. Such effort includes upholding ethical codes of behavior (which begins with restraining from doing “wrong”). It also includes affirmative effort, such as living virtues or carrying out practices given by a teacher. But once this effort places us back in the water, if we seek fana fillaah, we must surrender even these.

Don’t get this twisted: many saints who regularly “reach” this state maintain a regular spiritual practice. Such contributes to sustaining an atmosphere of body and mind that keeps an open door to the state of fana fillaah. This keeps them in the water but near the surface. But when the deeper currents of the Beloved pull forth, these saints let everything go to be completely drowned. They don’t flail their arms and legs imitating the motion of drowning; instead they surrender to let the water fill their lungs, completely surrendering any claim to life. Within this state if there is any movement of body and mind, it is the currents of the water that move, speak, and act -- even if they seem to perform the same service they previously performed through self-initiative. When one is drowned regularly and begins to rest within this state, it starts to efface the holding points of ego identification. When all the pillars of the ego are effaced, one comes to dwell unendingly in this state. One has died to “the self,” one’s body and mind remaining to serve only the will of the Beloved even if that person appears to be living one’s own life.

So to summarize, for most people the motion of spiritual practice emanates from the sense of “I,” even if it is a deeply restrained ego. But in fana fillaah, all motion comes totally from the water of the Beloved, those deep currents of Love and Truth that pervade all existence. To emphasize this point, Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi states: If they utter a cry, “I am drowning,” this too is not absorption. Even to bear witness to this state happening indicates one is not in it, for being the witness indicates duality: a separate entity that is watching the work of the Beloved and allowing it occur. In fana fillaah, there is only the Beloved, no one else to witness it -- even if aspects of creation are there to be used by the Beloved, such as a body and mind. When one drowns, all there is is the water and what the water beholds and moves.

Don’t think that uttering the cry of I am drowning is limited to words: many imitators of this state utter this cry with clever actions that present a facade of being spiritual. To address this, Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi references a phrase famous among Sufis: Anal Haqq, which is often translated as “I am The (Ultimate) Truth” or “I am Allaah. ” This is different than “I am drowning.” We’ll begin Part 2 examining this.

img1.png