Time out for some reflection during the nights of Ramadhan
The Islamic month of Ramadhan is ebbing away in front of us, and now in the last ten days it's time to move up a gear in terms of spiritual focus. I've been busy blogging away, trying to get into the thick of it. But I need to step back, I need to pull my head out of the ruckus.
This is not a political, social, humorous or news-y posting. It's a few minutes out between me and you in the small of the night. So I'm not looking for smart media savvy comments, just a connection, a recognition of a human soul that is looking at itself awash in background noise. I'm not interested tonight in the veil comments of Jack Straw, but the veils which hide us from our selves.
At this point in the month of Ramadhan I usually start to feel physically drained. And then the nights denoted for total spiritual focus and dedication come along, that is, the odd nights of Ramadhan in the last ten nights. It is highly recommended to stay up till dawn in prayer and reflection, partly in large groups, partly in solitude.
You're supposed to confront yourself and really find out what is going on inside. The nights are of spiritual challenge. Where have I reached? Where do I want to go? What improvements do I want to make?
I sit at two, three, four in the morning, in the dark silence, a small table lamp providing a glow. My mind flits between thoughts, occasionally hovering on life, its meaning, and me. To truly challenge myself I ask, who am I? I question myself, am I doing good? I try and listen to my spirit and its pulse, I recoil in fear. I'm not sure I know how to listen, I'm not sure I want to hear.
The silence offers me no help to drown out these challenges. No radio, TV, newspapers, no friends to call, no spouse to interact with, he sleeps. Only the challenge of the Night of Destiny, the Night of Power known in Arabic as Laylatul Qadr. I impose my own solitude as the Night demands it. The Night teases me as it knows I must face myself with no help. It knows that I know how highly this Night has been recommended for reflection and spiritual connection. And so the Night knows that I will - that I must - persevere. I cannot keep running, I cannot hide behind the noise and the political and social activity.
I think about the activities I take part in: I pat myself on the back for trying to engage in good works, good writing, good discussion. I smile with affection at my blog, my columns, my public dialogue. But all this is outward activity, the actions in the path to doing (or at least trying to do) good.
What about being good? What about securing that basic human spiritual connection? What about reflecting on myself and my being? Am I good? How do I know? Nobody else can comment, only I can know, can reflect on this, can assess, can improve or deteriorate. Spiritual warning: the merit or goodness of the self can go down as well as up.
Do other people feel the same fear at being alone with themselves? Do they run from looking at themselves? Is that why we are all so busy, recoiling from being alone, hiding in the speed of work, family, politics, life? In our whirlwind lives there seems to be no time for reflection. To be busy is to be a social success. Tell someone that you took time to sit, reflect - they will admire you jealously; they may wonder if you belong to a different unknown place and time.
Without the impetus of Ramadhan or its nights, or other equivalents in other traditions, is it easier for human beings to run rather than to reflect?
This is not a political, social, humorous or news-y posting. It's a few minutes out between me and you in the small of the night. So I'm not looking for smart media savvy comments, just a connection, a recognition of a human soul that is looking at itself awash in background noise. I'm not interested tonight in the veil comments of Jack Straw, but the veils which hide us from our selves.
At this point in the month of Ramadhan I usually start to feel physically drained. And then the nights denoted for total spiritual focus and dedication come along, that is, the odd nights of Ramadhan in the last ten nights. It is highly recommended to stay up till dawn in prayer and reflection, partly in large groups, partly in solitude.
You're supposed to confront yourself and really find out what is going on inside. The nights are of spiritual challenge. Where have I reached? Where do I want to go? What improvements do I want to make?
I sit at two, three, four in the morning, in the dark silence, a small table lamp providing a glow. My mind flits between thoughts, occasionally hovering on life, its meaning, and me. To truly challenge myself I ask, who am I? I question myself, am I doing good? I try and listen to my spirit and its pulse, I recoil in fear. I'm not sure I know how to listen, I'm not sure I want to hear.
The silence offers me no help to drown out these challenges. No radio, TV, newspapers, no friends to call, no spouse to interact with, he sleeps. Only the challenge of the Night of Destiny, the Night of Power known in Arabic as Laylatul Qadr. I impose my own solitude as the Night demands it. The Night teases me as it knows I must face myself with no help. It knows that I know how highly this Night has been recommended for reflection and spiritual connection. And so the Night knows that I will - that I must - persevere. I cannot keep running, I cannot hide behind the noise and the political and social activity.
I think about the activities I take part in: I pat myself on the back for trying to engage in good works, good writing, good discussion. I smile with affection at my blog, my columns, my public dialogue. But all this is outward activity, the actions in the path to doing (or at least trying to do) good.
What about being good? What about securing that basic human spiritual connection? What about reflecting on myself and my being? Am I good? How do I know? Nobody else can comment, only I can know, can reflect on this, can assess, can improve or deteriorate. Spiritual warning: the merit or goodness of the self can go down as well as up.
Do other people feel the same fear at being alone with themselves? Do they run from looking at themselves? Is that why we are all so busy, recoiling from being alone, hiding in the speed of work, family, politics, life? In our whirlwind lives there seems to be no time for reflection. To be busy is to be a social success. Tell someone that you took time to sit, reflect - they will admire you jealously; they may wonder if you belong to a different unknown place and time.
Without the impetus of Ramadhan or its nights, or other equivalents in other traditions, is it easier for human beings to run rather than to reflect?
posted by Shelina Zahra Janmohamed at 02:52
4 Comments:
A very moving message Shelina.
I know a place - used to live there myself - that is dedicated to creating a world of silence in which the quiet word of God can be heard. It's a Benedictine monastery on the Isle of Wight and when you enter the silence is palpable. It greets you as a friend and is a welcome respite from the roaring rush of the ordinary world.
Yet oddly, after a few weeks staying there it begins to seem a very noisy place indeed, until one realises that the 'noise' is the endless chatter of one's own mind and desires echoing in the external stillness.
Letting go of that 'me' sound takes years of trusting contemplation - a stage I never got anywhere near! - and when you meet some of the old men who have been there 50 years or more, living the rule each moment of every day, you can almost sound them like a cymbal or a gong - they resonate with some inner, grounded voice.
These guys are early birds - rising daily before dawn [2.00 a.m. some of the more rigorous houses] to pray in the extra silence night permits. They would understand your words and wish you well in your nocturnal search.
I know you, and you are good. Period.
saalams.
I think its sometimes easier to think at night,as there are no interruptions and the way you think at night is so diferent to the way you think during the daylight hours.
Deep down most people know if they are good and bad and what would make them a better person , except maybe during the day we busy ourselves and put reflection and self-awareness low down on our to-do list.
Ramadan is an excellent time to make a commitment, however small, 2 years ago during Ramadan I grew a beard,and its still in bloom today!.
Maybe if we all asked people who we trusted and were close to, how we could improve our character and worked on that?
Maybe youre being too harsh and its all the little flaws that make us human.
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