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On Belonging II - Our Intimate Conversation with the Divine

25/1/2022

If “true belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world”1, it goes without saying that it would also allow you to share this most authentic self with your Creator… i.e. being yourself in those most intimate conversation you have with the Divine.

I grew up in a very spiritual family, yet they weren’t big on rituals and organized religious structure. Since my early childhood, I learned to talk to God in the most intimate of ways - just open your heart and pour it all out. Tell God what you feel, what you need, what you are grateful for, what you like and dislike, what scares you and what delights you… tell Him everything. He is interested… He listens.
I have always been an extremely introvert person, you may even call me a hermit. I find it extremely difficult to socialize or to make friends. God has always been my friend, my refuge, my comfort in all my light and dark moments.

When I took a leave after the birth of my first child, I decided to formally study my religion for the first time. I wasn’t very welcomed in the mosque, though. I was “different.” I did not belong.
As usual, I buried my true self in order to fit in… I suppressed this part of me that they rejected… this most authentic part that forged the intimate Divine connection I so much valued… “God can’t be your friend, this is so disrespectful!” they told me, “You only talk to God in the way He taught us to. We’ll teach you,” they said. And, I believed them. I needed to fit in… I so desperately needed to belong. So, I stopped my intimate conversations. The compassionate language of the heart that I grew up with was soon morphed into a sterile language of do’s and don’ts, of halal and haram, of heaven and hell.

But, for how long can you press yourself into a mold that doesn’t fit you? I couldn’t fit in… it wasn’t me. Don’t get me wrong, though. I am a traditionalist. I believe in the importance of religious rituals, doctrine, and structure. Yet, for me, these are the framework, the scaffolding not the main course.

The Prophet taught us that God says, “My slave will not approach me by anything more favourable for me that what I have enjoined on him.” - literalists stop here… they ignore the rest of the saying: “and, my slave keeps coming closer to me by optional worship acts till I love him. And, if I love him, I’ll be his hearing with which he hears, his eyesight with which he sees, his hand with which he strikes, and his leg with which he walks. If he asks me, I’ll give him and if he seeks my refuge, I’ll protect him.”

Rumi, in his Masnavi, relates a story of an encounter between Moses and a shepherd:2

“Once Moses overheard a shepherd pray:
   ‘O God! O God!’ He heard the shepherd say,
‘Where do You live that I might serve You there?
   I’ll mend Your battered shoes and comb Your hair,
And wash Your clothes, and kill the lice and fleas,
   And serve You milk to sip from when You please;
I’d kiss Your little hand, and rub Your feet,
   And sweep Your bedroom clean and keep it neat;
I’d sacrifice my herd of goats for You
   This loud commotion proves my love is true.’
He carried on in this deluded way,
   So, Moses asked, ‘What’s that I hear you say?’
‘I speak to my creator there on high,
   The One who also made the earth and sky.’
Moses replied, ‘You’re truly lost your way,
   You’ve given up faith and gone astray.
It’s gibberish and babble, stupid twit;
   You’d better learn to put a cork on it!’ […]
‘If you’re aware that He is God, our Lord,
   Why act familiar when that is abhorred?
Such stupid friendship’s truly enmity;
   The Lord’s above such acts of piety.
For relatives reserve your generous deeds -
   God has no body, nor material needs.’

The shepherd said, ‘Your words have struck me dumb.
   Regret now burns my soul, and I feel numb.’
He breathed a heavy sigh and ripped his cloak,
   Then in the desert disappeared like smoke.’

A revelation came down instantly:
   ‘You have just turned a slave away from Me!
Was not to lead to union why you came?
   Is causing separation now your aim? […]
I’ve given each one his own special ways
   And, his unique expressions when he prays. […]
I stand immune to all impurity
   Men’s pride and cunning never bother Me. […]
I’m not made any purer by their praise;
   They gain in eloquence and godly ways.
And, I pay no attention to their speech,
   But their intentions and the heights they reach -
I know when men’s hearts have humility,
   Even if they should speak too haughtily.

The heart is the essence, words are mere effects:
   The heart’s what matters, hot air he rejects.
I’m tired of fancy terms and metaphors;
   I want a soul which burns so much it roars!’ […]

Once Moses had heard God’s reproach, he ran
   Towards the desert, searching for that man;
He followed footprints that the shepherd laid,
   Scattering dust throughout the track he’d made. […]
On reaching the poor shepherd finally,
   Moses announced, ‘I bring you God’s decree:
Don’t bother with good manners anymore,
   But let your heart express what’s in its core! […]
Absolved by God, Who does what He should will,
   Speak out, and don’t be scared I blame you still!’”

___________
1 Brené Brown - Atlas of the Heart
2 Jawid Mojaddedi’s translation

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On Belonging...

7/1/2022

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There is a district in old Cairo called Al-Sakakini. It is named after the beautiful mansion of Al-Sakakini family, a family of Syrian refugees who immigrated to Egypt more than a 100 years ago fleeing an oppressive regime in their homeland, leaving all their belongings and possession behind. Their son, the young Sakakini, was in his late teens when the family settled in their new country. He had only received elementary education and was working hard everyday to help his family stay afloat.

At that time, Egypt was digging the Suez Canal (the canal that connects the Red Sea to the Mediterranean). When they started digging, the workers were faced with a stampede of ferocious rats coming from all over the city eating supplies, destroying machinery, and spreading diseases. The management tried all kinds of rat poisons and traps but nothing worked. The rats kept multiplying, getting bigger, fatter, and more aggressive. The government announced that the whole project was about to fail and would soon be abandoned.

Our young Sakakini read the newspaper and a light bulb went on! Why not use cats to eat the rats? Can you imagine how people received his idea? He was made fun of, ridiculed and belittled: Don’t you think they have cats over there? Do you think no body tried that already? It is so obvious isn’t it... you're no genius!

Sakakini did not listen to the nay Sayers, he got cages, gathered stray cats from the streets of Cairo, and shipped them to the construction site in Suez. There, he released the cats and within 24 hours, the site was cleared. The digging was soon resumed and the news reached the khedive Ismail, the ruler of Egypt at the time. He was so impressed that he appointed young Sakakini as his personal adviser. Sakakini was a creative adviser and proved wise in many subsequent decisions. Soon enough, he was granted a mansion in a district that still carries his family's name more than a 100 years later.

Unlike young Sakakini, I have always been afraid to be different…
I feared that being myself, expressing my unconventional opinions, or taking a stand for what I believe in would prevent me from “fitting in,” from being part of the tribe, from belonging.

I grew up in my grandmother’s house, a big family home with doors always open to welcome everybody. I was this little girl sitting in the corner listening to grown-ups' stories… women who came to my grandmother for advice, counsel, and support…
My grandmother’s kitchen was constantly brimming with aromas and flavors. A big pot was continuously simmering preparing the most delicious lunch for any potential guest, neighbour, friend, or just for the mailman and the newspaper guy around the corner. I enjoyed trips with my aunt to the old spice souks stocking on spices, herbs, and teas… My grandmother had a recipe for every ailment and it worked every time. I became fascinated with women's stories and enchanted by the magic of those herbs and spices. “When I’ll grow up, I announced, I’ll be a story catcher, listening to people’s stories, giving them support, and sharing wisdom and healing foods like grandma's.” But, this is not a profession, I was told!

So, I stopped dreaming!

At school, I loved my creative writing class. In my eccentric brain, neurons are constantly firing in all directions generating uncontrollable stream of ideas, opinions, stories, and visuals begging to be expressed and shared. But, for some reason, my teacher did not seem to like my writing, “Writing is not your strength,” she advised, “ stick to science, this is what you’re good at.”

So, I stopped writing.

I then shifted to another passion, drawing and visual art. I enjoyed expressing emotions and feelings through colors, forms, and shapes. My father and my brother are talented artists, you could mistaken their drawings for photographs. But, my art is different, I drew emotions and human feelings… I drew experiences and build imaginative cosmos. So, when I declared that I wanted to be an artist, I was met with a definitive, “No way! ‘You’re not good at art!” They advised me in the most friendly way to “stick to science, this is what you’re good at!”

And, I stopped drawing!

When I graduated high school, I joined pharmacy. I was always good at science, so I’ve been told. But, this wasn’t my reason. Deep inside, I wanted to learn about those magical herbs I left back in my grandmother’s kitchen, I wanted to be an agent in people healing and relief like she was.
Unfortunately, the way herbs and remedies are taught in pharmacy stripped them from their magic, from their soul and reduced them to mere chemical formulas and Latin names. When I tried to express this humble opinion and maybe carve some path for change, no one understood what I was talking about.

And, again, I stopped! I remained part of the system.

I graduated top of my class and was hired as a teaching assistant in the faculty. I loved my work. I love biochemistry, I love teaching and lab experiments… but, there was always something missing, some part of me I left behind in my grandmother’s house, some part of me that I left when I abandoned the stories, the kitchen apothecary, my journals, and my sketchbooks.
But, I was now too busy climbing the ladder of academia and finishing my master degree in pharmacy. I needed to fit in… to be accepted… to remain part of the system.

Ironically, the more I struggled to fit in, the less I felt that I belonged.

Brené Brown teaches, “True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness. True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.”

When we settle into our ordinary life, we’re always sent signs… directions for the path, for the next step in the journey we are meant to embark on. Joseph Campbell calls it, “Call for Adventure”… This call starts subtle, like those unsettling feelings I had, the feelings that I am abandoning essential parts of who I am in a futile attempt to fit in… But, I did not listen, I did not heed the subtle warnings… So, they had to become louder and uglier.

As I finished my research and was ready to present my thesis, my faculty advisor refused to accept it unless I end my maternal leave and come back to work. With two toddlers at hand, I couldn’t do that. So, I was forced to submit my resignation in order for me to complete and receive my master degree. I cried day and night. I felt oppressed and unjustly treated… My years of hard work and my dream of becoming a university professor were shattered overnight. But, wait a minute… were those ‘my’ dreams? This “call” forced me to stop for a moment and reconsider my path. Was it really my path or was it the path that everyone believed was the best for me?
Leaving academia gave me the chance to dig into those passions I have abandoned years ago. I studied nutrition, natural health, spirituality and theology; and I loved every step along the way. I ended up with a degree in nutrition, a PhD in Natural Health, and a Master in Pastoral studies. I wrote books that I would have never written if I was still following a path that was not meant for me.

Brené Brown's words made so much sense now, “because we can feel belonging only if we have the courage to share our most authentic selves with people, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.” I had to learn to accept myself, my true authentic self. Like young Sakakini, I had to learn not to fear being different. I had to learn that it is ok to “stand alone in the wilderness” at times or even most of the times. I had to learn to trust myself for me to be able to trust others.

Striving for belonging is a natural human instinct. We all need to belong. It is a tough, and at times scary, quest that requires us to keep “Braving the Wilderness.” “True belonging, Brené says, is not something you negotiate externally, it’s what you carry in your heart.”

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The Pandemic: Who Let the Genie Out?

5/1/2022

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In the tales of Arabian Nights, there is a story of a poor fisherman, who, everyday carried his net to the sea and return empty handed. The fisherman felt helpless and prayed, cried, and pleaded for God’s help. One day, after three failed attempts, the fisherman desperately cast his net for the fourth and last time. It came out with a copper lamp. Disappointed, he started cleaning the lamp , maybe he could sell it and buy dinner for his starving family. As he rubbed it, fumes filled the air and out came a huge genie.

The genie related his story. He has been trapped in the lamp for years. After a hundred years, he promised, “whoever saves me, I will make him rich beyond his wildest dream.” Then, the second century fled by, and the genie said, “Whoever saves me, I’ll open before him the treasures of the land.” When 400 years passed and no one showed up for him, the genie desperately pledged, “Whoever saves me, I’ll grant him 3 wishes.” Still, no one came for his rescue. The genie remained trapped for 1800 years – and with every passing year, he was becoming angrier and hungrier and ended up swearing, “Who ever saves me must die! I will grant him only one choice… He may choose how he would like me to kill him.” And, this was the choice he gave our poor fisherman.

The fisherman knew that the genie is much stronger, but our wise fisherman also knew that a human being always has the power to outsmart a beast. “I only have one wish, the fisherman said, I am so curious to see how a huge genie like yourself could fit in such a tiny lamp?” And, as soon as the genie squeezed himself back in, the fisherman sealed the lamp.
At this point, the fisherman had the choice to either cast the lamp back in the sea and get rid of the genie forever or make a deal with this angry hungry beast. But, could he trust him?
The fisherman learned his lesson, “the genie may have the muscles, but I have the Intellect.” He needs the genie. He could make use of his talents, if only he could submit him to his service… Despite his fear, the fisherman decided to release the genie after striking a deal that benefited both of them.

The genie in the story is the classic symbol of the soul. A soul entrapped and ignored for years until its anger and passion could no longer be contained. Those feelings are totally legitimate. With years of entrapment, the genie’s anger and passion were his motivation to find an outlet, to keep hope and keep going. Yet, those helpful tools have been percolating for so long that they ended up brewing the deadly concoction of pride, greed, temptations, envy, gluttony, wrath, and apathy.

This time of the Pandemic, if I borrow Charles Dickens’ words, “It was the best of times... It was the worst of times.” It brought up the best out of people… It brought up the worst out of people.

But, the best and the worst have been already there… Lurking in the dark shadow of our hearts.

The pandemic squeezed our hearts revealing what has already been there… it rubbed the lamp and released our genie. For some, the heart was full of pain- denied, unexpressed pain. For some, it was full of anger - stored, percolating anger. Yet for others, it was full of hunger, needs, or maybe compassion or love or yearnings…

All these are legitimate, natural human feelings…

Sufis call the moments of challenges and suffering, Contraction. Contraction is sent our way to wake us up. To make us aware of those hidden crevices of our heart that get neglected as we are caught in the grind of everyday life. Contraction rubs the lamp and give an outlet to the genie before his anger and hunger go out of control. It is there to show us this hidden side of our soul. Yet, we have to remember that the choice remains ours: What do we do with the genie?

Embedded in every contraction is the potential for its own expansion. Like the white dot in the dark side of the Yin-Yang symbol.

We can choose to let our self, the ego in modern psychological terms (the genie) contract so that our heart, our intellect, our wisdom (the fisherman) expands and takes control drawing on the light of Divine love and mercy.

Or, we can choose to leave our heart in its contraction, expanding the ego and allowing it to take over - letting the genie rule with his angry, hungry, selfish pride.

It seems like an easy choice, doesn’t it? Yet, we all know it is one of the hardest choices to make. The genie is scary. It is hard to contain and even harder to please. On one hand, squeezing him into the lamp makes him angrier and hungrier, not to mention the waste of his tremendous potentials. On the other hand, taming him is a life-long struggle, the Greatest Struggle against the shadows of our own soul.

The fisherman, compared to the genie, seems like this tiny white dot in the black swirl. Yet, this dot is the source of light in the darkness, the wisdom in the chaos. The fisherman chose to tame the genie not to kill it. He knew that he needs it along his journey. The genie, with his anger and passion, is a prodigious source of energy that the fisherman needs for protection and motivation. Yet, the fisherman, with his wise discerning intellect, has to always remain aware and alert. He can never put down his guards.The genie can never be trusted. We can’t let the genie lead the way. We have to remain in control!

The Pandemic with all its aftermath, is in a sense, a global contraction. It rubbed the lamp and released our genie. It squeezed our hearts exuding a fermented brew. Yet, the choice remains ours, will we befriend and tame the genie, or will we let him squeeze our hearts to death?

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On Belonging II - Our Intimate Conversation with the Divine

On Belonging...

The Pandemic: Who Let the Genie Out?

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