December 4, 2014
Anyone who ties something united into a knot
Laughs at one’s own condition and the condition of the world.
They speak words about union and separation, yet
How can something that was never separated be joined?
~
This love is complete and perfect, complete and perfect, complete and perfect.
And this (ego-based) self is imaginary, imaginary, imaginary.
This light is glorious, glorious, glorious.
Today [in this present moment] is union, union, union!
(adapted from The Quatrains of Rumi,
translated by Ibrahim Gamard and Rawan Farhadi, p. 281 and p. 274)
***
The metaphor of seeking to tie something united into a knot is a befitting metaphor for how many pursue spirituality. Even if with the best intentions or in seemingly subtle ways many of us are trying to find the Beloved, to be united with the Beloved when the Beloved is already within us. The Qur’aan affirms this:
We verily created human and We know what its soul
whispers to it, and We are nearer to (each) human
than its jugular vein. (Surah 50, Verse 16)
Yet most of us don’t act, think, or approach life in ways that are genuinely aware and receptive of this. Even many who have quoted this verse and other statements like it thousands of times immerse themselves in spiritual practices that seek to find or draw near to the Beloved. In many respects, we are looking to bind something that is already united, which is unnecessary. As Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi stated:
[We] speak words about union and separation, yet
How can something that was never separated be joined?
This is a call to really examine the approach and elements of our spiritual practice. This is not to say that pursuits of union cannot be beneficial and part of a process of awakening to realize the union that already is, but when we are in pursuit of union we don’t rest in union. Sometimes we even go as far as to veil this union with aspects of our own “spirituality.” And there is an aspect of foolishness in seeking to do something that is already done -- and dare I say, done perfectly by the Beloved.
Imagine a man standing in Times Square in New York City being so intent on finding Times Square that he is asking people how to get to Times Square? Despite being told repeatedly that he is already there, in his insistence, he keeps on asking people, “How do I get to Times Square?” He can talk about “journey” and “destination,” “traveling” and “arriving” (like many of us talk about union and separation), but it all means little until he is ready to accept that he is already in Times Square.
The above metaphor explicitly shows what many sincere seekers do, sometimes in subtle and clever ways. Just as the man’s insistence on asking for directions seems illogical, to those who have realized the union that already is any approach seeking union seems just as illogical. Yet some of us remain just as insistent with approaches and elements of spiritual practice that seek to find something we already dwell within. In fact, sometimes our attachments to this insistence and the practices that serve it require that someone direct us out of Times Square so we can be directed back to it. Then we will realize, as so many masters testify, that we were and are already resting within that which we sought. I remember a teacher who said about his realization of union, and I’m paraphrasing: ‘What a fool I was to ignore the love and wisdom already within me that revealed itself when I stopped looking for love and wisdom.”
So if the challenge is not to find but realize something so close that we don’t perceive it, how should we proceed? The Sufi response to this question is simple: remembrance -- to remember something we forgot although it is always within us. I remember an incident last winter: I entered a heated building from the bitter cold and my glasses fogged up. So I pushed them up on my forehead which was partially covered by a hat so I could see as I moved about the building. But when I was ready to leave, I couldn’t find my glasses. I started to look for them and spent minutes retracing my steps, checking and rechecking all the places I had been to see if I left them there. Finally someone asked me, “Are you looking for something?” I said, “My glasses.” She laughed, saying, “They’re upon your head.” I grabbed my glasses and laughed too. In a similar manner, a person who realizes he or she is tying something that is already united laughs at one’s own condition and the condition of the world because the majority of the world is doing the same thing. In all that we seek, whether as spiritual or worldly pursuits, the fulfillment of all this and more lays with the Beloved, who already dwells within ours hearts. Recognition of this often moves one to laughter: not a laughter of ridicule but of joy and fulfillment. Perhaps it’s part of the humor of the Beloved that despite being told of the union that already is, each one of us must come to our own individual realization of it.
Understanding this, it is helpful and important to understand the Sufi and Islamic context of Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi’s life. Practices of dhikr (remembrance) are fundamental to traditional Sufism as a way of helping seekers to not seek the forgotten glasses resting upon our heads, but instead to arrive at a state where we can remember where they already are. So much emphasis is placed on sitting with a guide and other sincere companions, because it is often easier for them to see the glasses upon your head than you -- especially if you’re really caught up in finding the glasses. Sometimes teachers will send students on pursuits or let them go off on pursuits as a way to reveal to the students their own (mental) tendencies inclined to seeking. These are barriers that must be released and removed since they obscure realization of the union that is, even if in very subtle ways. But on the Sufi path, any such pursuits are utilized as preparation to embrace practices of remembrance. For when we truly remember the union that is, we can then turn our attention to resting within and honoring the beauty of this union. Then we won’t seek union but instead be union.
In a hadith, a saying of the Prophet Muhammad (p.b.u.h.), the Beloved says: “I am (appear) in accordance with the thoughts of My servant about Me; and I am with that one, when that one remembers Me.” (adapted from 110 Hadith Qudsi, Trans. by Syed Masood-ul-Hasan). The hadith acknowledges the delusional potential of the mind to perceive what is already united as being separate. Then we get caught up in living this perception instead of reality. If we think (based on perception) that the Beloved is separate, to us the Beloved will be something we must seek. If we remember the Beloved is always with us, even if we can’t perceive It -- or even just remember the Beloved -– this allows us to realize the union that already is. Such realization can be more easily arrived at through remembrance not pursuit or perception. This realization can manifests in ways that go beyond what the mind can encompass, but just to chant the names of the Beloved or sit in quiet remembering the Beloved is sufficient for this union to be realized / remembered. Then we can be with the Beloved, who is always with us, and see for ourselves why Jalaal ud-Diin Rumi proclaims:
This love is complete and perfect, complete and perfect, complete and perfect.
And this (ego-based) self is imaginary, imaginary, imaginary.
This light is glorious, glorious, glorious.
Today [in this present moment] is union, union, union!
