Tag Archives: God

The Rules Are Cut and Dried

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Arden

 

Arden Again

(Published in Ascent Aspirations)

The Rules Are Cut and Dried

–To Arden

These are the rules:
A found penny is lucky heads up
Two found pennies together doesn’t matter
Any nickel or dime or better
Doesn’t matter

The rules are cut and dried
But I conceive a primitive
Experiment in power: For instance
If I turn a tails penny over to heads
For someone else to find

That makes now
Heads in charge
And so my hypothesis
Being that one has the power
To create luck for someone else

You may say
“But you will never know the result
And so it’s a worthless experiment”
To which my reply:
Au contraire mon frère

(Establishing a tone of camaraderie)
I already know
The rules are cut and dried
Happiness is the given
You work backwards from there

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Invocation:

“Towards the one, the perfection of love, harmony and beauty, the only being, united with all the illuminated souls who form the embodiment of the master, the spirit of guidance.”

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Prescribed Daily Mantra:

“My thoughtful self: Reproach no one. Bear malice towards no one. Hold a grudge against no one. Be wise, tolerant, considerate, polite, and kind to all.”

~.~.~

Gentle Readers,

Well here it is again (or was when I started this post) November 7, Arden’s birthday (Arden is the lady who died a bunch of blog posts ago and to whom was dedicated some posts,* most recently:

https://rumi-nations.com/2018/11/18/it-makes-me-cry-remembering-arden/

Earlier arden posts (where since she was a still living and private scorpio, I had called her “Eve”:

https://rumi-nations.com/2013/07/01/the-fates-found-her/

and:
https://rumi-nations.com/2013/07/08/my-heart-was-in-panajachel/

It’s an interesting situation why she has always stuck so much with me for 18 years after we stopped being together.

As I wrote in previous posts, she was an atheist (not that there’s anything wrong with that) and well, in my opinion I was a lot more tolerant of her atheism than she was of my religion.** I even laughed at one of the buttons she had on her refrigerator door, which said, “Jesus is coming! Look busy!”

I surely do, and any self respecting Jesus would also have a sense of humor, and be secure enough in our beliefs not to feel threatened by somebody else thinking differently.

Of course in retrospect I was at fault as well. And I thought I was being so generous and ecumenical when I told her (to her face) that I didn’t believe she was really an atheist because I had never seen a more generous heart and of such is the kingdom of God.

But thereby I was depriving her of the respect that should be given to someone’s estimation of themselves.  I as much as said, what do you know? You are not really an atheist!

It sure is funny how one time one can be so cock sure of something and then later look back and slap your head aghast at having missed something so obvious. Along similar lines there is the Hazrat Inayat Khan story of a lady who often hurt people’s feelings with accusations, justifying that by saying, “I only tell the truth.” I can’t be sure of the exact wording of Hazrat Inayat Khan’s comment on that, but the gist was, it was in violation of a far greater truth, that of the human heart being the shrine of God, and woe to one who would visit hurt upon that.**

I am traveling now to California to visit family and old friends, and I wish to focus on that, so I will cut this post short (and yes, a day late both for a post being overdue, and Arden’s birthday having been ten days ago (November 7).

God be with you,
Eric Halliwell

*Posts which I have written because she has been so pivotal in my life. As well as gratitude for her generous heart, and as you might surmise from what I have written above, a source for much Sufi-ish speculation, about my gratitude to her, which I think is among the top three of my idea of the most  important virtues. Para precisar, along with gratitude, avoiding hypocrisy, and (agreeing with Inayat Khan), patience (for how one’s fate is often determined by an apparent God’s plan for a string of falling dominoes, at least in my case, some of the latest being occasioned by my affair with Arden. Which has led directly to my moving to Guatemala, thus enabling a retirement devoted to my Sufi poetry and ancillary contemplation.

**As an example, once she told me “I don’t ever want to hear about your religion!” To which I relied that to make sure of what she meant, I said, “In other words you want never to hear me speak of that without which I might want to Kill myself? (This in the spirit of this quote from Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina:

“…life was impossible like that, and that he must either
interpret life so that it would not present itself to him
as the evil jest of some devil, or shoot himself.”

***FYI here I am not referring to hell, unless by hell it’s meant unhappiness. An unhappiness which comes perforce from trying to be what one is not. By that I mean deep down we are all manifestations of a loving God, and to act otherwise must set up a civil war in one’s heart. Hardly a state of happiness.

Finally the Cat Is Out of the Bag!

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Lud Dimpfl’s Sufi class (circa 1973)

I am the dark guy in the back row just in front of the left door jamb.

 

 

Lud Dimpfl with Meher Baba

 

New Start—419
Let Hell Go To Its Favorite Abyss

What if you were a writer when
(You had an imagination)
You imagined a new way backwards

(For a new way towards)
To examine the apparently soulless behavior
Of someone who couldn’t budge

Because who had kept dammed his heart and if
Then instead of damning him for his lack of savior
What if instead of that you understood better

Who he really was or at least you understood that
To judge is to fetter
(Yourself as well and to them too)

And so then you stepped toward this bliss:
You let hell go (to its favorite abyss)
You let flow your tear-salted water

From your oceanic heart and then
(It’s a start)
You wept?

 

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Invocation:

“Towards the one, the perfection of love, harmony and beauty, the only being, united with all the illuminated souls who form the embodiment of the master, the spirit of guidance.”

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Prescribed Daily Mantra:
“My thoughtful self: Reproach no one. Bear malice towards no one. Hold a grudge against no one. Be wise, tolerant, considerate, polite, and kind to all.”

~.~.~

Note to Gentle Readers:

The company that administers this website blind-sided me with a new format for posting stuff which I didn’t understand. For that, this post is very much behindtime. (but all is better now. (Ojala and inshallah)

Apologies.

Gentle Readers,
Perhaps you haven’t been following my blog “religiously.” (There’s that nasty word again) And so perhaps a brief bit about my background is in order. In order that is to better understand where I am coming from, and better put my musings in the context of a useful framework.

So here’s why this is a “Sufi” website:

I was an initiate in a Sufi order in northern California, from 1972 to 1979. (If you aren’t familiar with “Sufism,” if it helps to place this in context, Rumi was a Sufi). This order was co-founded by Hazrat Inayat Khan, sent to the west (England, The United States, etc.) in 1914, by his murshid, Madani, as I recall, in Hyderabad, India. The mission was to establish a Sufism beachhead in the west.*

In Sufism, the “guru” is called a murshid. Or, in the case of a woman, a murshida.

Inayat Khan died in 1927 and in 1948 the then murshida, Rabia Martin, (Inayat Khan’s chosen successor), when dying of cancer directed that the order be put under the aegis of Meher Baba (which means, compassionate father) in India. She was convinced he was “The Qutub,” which means in Sufism, the highest spiritual authority on the planet at the time. He was of the large Parsi community in India. They had centuries earlier fled from their native Persia where they were ostracized by the Islamic influences that took over Persia, and as is frequent worldwide in these cases of differing religions, did not show tolerance to the “infidel” Parsis, who didn’t wish to renounce their ancient devotion to the prophet Zoroaster, not even in favor of Mohammed..

Meher Baba conducted then the order from a physical distance, (its headquarters being in San Francisco) naming Ivy Duce as the new murshida. When I joined, Ivy Duce was about seventy five years old. Basically we followed the practices which had been set forth by Hazrat Inayat Khan, with some changes–mostly additions prompted by Meher Baba (I can’t think of any subtractions).  Oops. Yes I can. One thing. Meher Baba wanted omitted some of the arcane practises which if taught to people not spiritually advanced enough to use them safely, could abuse them, both to their and others’ detriment.

And so we revered Inayat Khan (Hazrat is a title bestowed in the east upon one who is respected as a holy person). We studied his writings, and sang his Zikr to start each meeting. It was a round–or canon (like the famous canon in D by Pachelbel, or more familiarly (and aptly, the last line) “Row Row, Row Your Boat.” And we said his invocation also at the start of a meeting. This was, “Toward the One, the perfection of love, harmony and beauty, the only being, united with all the illuminated souls who form the embodiment of the master, the spirit of guidance.”

As you may notice these are pantheistic in tone, and the invocation I do believe ranks as the most ecumenical of invocations. As such it is often the case that fundamentalists in their respective religions, take objection. As do others who imagine that “religion” inherently is imposed upon one from without, whether by a person such as Christ or Buddha, or usually, by mere priests of one sort or another who purport to speak for God.

Inayat Khan neatly sidesteps this (as do most Sufis I have come across in my readings) by the expedient of declaring that God has a way of adapting to the belief of the individual, who is encouraged to use the full range of her imagination to conceive of God as the embodiment of whatever most moves her heart. Since as Inayat Khan repeatedly emphasizes, the temple of God is the heart of man. Along these lines, he often quotes the Prophet Mohammed who said “Every man has his own religion.”

One of the practices prescribed by Inayat Khan is daily to say to oneself, “My thoughtful self, reproach no one, hold a grudge against no one, bear malice toward no one; Be wise, tolerant, considerate, polite, and kind to all.”

And this brings us to today’s theme, that of judgment. (Ha! Finally the cat is out of the bag!) Of course some religions or philosophies emphasize the concept of reincarnation (e. g. Jainism, Hinduism, Taoism, Buddhism, some subsects of Islam, and others. Most recently–to my knowledge–also, Meher Baba.) Indeed, though Inayat Khan never explicitly references such a doctrine, in my opinion, his philosophy connotes this. He often refers to the human being’s gradual development in terms that simply haven’t a possible timeline without reincarnation. I suspect this stemmed from the fact of Sufism being born of Islam, and steeped in a tradition of obfuscation. So as to avoid fundamentalist persecution—an example being poetry ostensibly written to an opposite sex beloved, or reference to “wine” when the cognoscenti knew what was meant was to a reference to God or divine intoxication. And had Inayat Khan spoken directly of reincarnation, it would have aroused controversy and Sufis are noted for keeping a low profile.

And again sticking to the no no of judgment, once one is hip to reincarnation there obtain obvious corollaries, such as the concept of “young souls” or “old souls.” The older souls, for their greater experience, are wiser. And a corollary to that is the injustice of judging a “young soul” by the standards of an older one. It would be like demanding calculus from a kindergartner. Because we are all on different rungs of the ladder, as it were. And God knows (as opposed to we) who is higher and who is lower or by how much. There can then be no absolute standards of even good and evil. Inayat Khan says the virtue of a regular person would likely be a sin for a saint. And Meher Baba has said, “There is no such thing as evil. Only relative degrees of good.”

God be with you,
Eric Halliwell

*By an interesting coincidence, Inayat Khan’s wife was either the cousin or sister (I forget which) to Mary Baker Eddy who founded Christian Science.

The Nuts and Lightning Bolts of Getting Happy

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My painting of Meher Baba

 

 

 

New Start–85

Imagine Something Mysterious

Imagine something mysterious
Imagine a situation where you saw
That what you’d needed and was necessary
Even what you’d merely wanted

(Due to blindsight that’s not always the same thing)
Was always or usually supplied
(Especially if you looked back and died with laughter
After twenty years of wisdom and hindsight)

By an invisible and nearly silent agent
And when you tried to speak to it
You felt good for the effort or just
For the lack of hell of it even though

Perforce your speech must have no response
Like we do get from friends be it a smile
Or a laugh or tears no not that sort of friend here
But friendly anyway with scent of heaven on her

Know what I mean? Think upon it . . .
No? Why so? you may yet say
Well that’s the mysterious part but somehow you knew
Through some subtle undertow of knowing

It’s love that fits like gloves that makes your ego glow
(Like stars are flame-sublime when showering)
And then you sigh–you want to dance and sing
And cry at the same time

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Invocation:

“Towards the one, the perfection of love, harmony and beauty, the only being, united with all the illuminated souls who form the embodiment of the master, the spirit of guidance.”

~.~.~

Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Prescribed Daily Mantra:
“My thoughtful self: Reproach no one. Bear malice towards no one. Hold a grudge against no one. Be wise, tolerant, considerate, polite, and kind to all.”

~.~.~

Gentle Readers,
First, I apologize if I have been arrogating Sufi philosophy and passing it off as my own. I hope it’s understood that I merely have been exposed to Sufism officially for seven years in the 1970’s, and as such, studied Sufis such as the founder, Hazrat Inayat Khan (circa 1920’s) and the more recent co-founder, Meher Baba. (Who dropped his body in 1969).

My reading of that study was that my adopted form of Sufism has an implicit or (again, more recently) explicit belief in reincarnation. Which “we” talked a bit about last time. Enough at least to open the reincarnation door or can of worms as is sometimes the case. Thus I had every intention of dedicating this post to reincarnation.

However,

This morning I got let’s call it a door knocking thing such as I get when a poem is there. And it’s against my religion not to answer such calls dropping any famous “other plans.“* And so I will postpone the reincarnation chat in favor of what I was thinking about this morning. But first I had to ponder, was it a poem I was writing or would it be so long and unwieldy-windy (as is my wont) that it would be too long a poem. (Generally I write poems of a page or less. My working hypothesis there is that’s a function of attention span limitations)

But I fancy myself a good prose writer (I got an A plus in college!) and so when the words they just kept on coming and then head-smackingly I realized by golly very soon a new blog post is due. So you do the math and here we are about to consider a chat about my hobby, a mere matter of the nuts and lightning bolts of getting happy. You see I had a sad semi-abandoned childhood, and devising Rapunzel-type hair ladders to climb out of there has come to be a constant and absorbing hobby.

Pero estoy andando por las ramas (Beating around the bush)**

But back to describing my “hint” to start writing. It was a little kick in the butt I felt from (I suspect) some weak legged small thing with fairy wings. Sometimes I think the path to wise is just to start focusing in on subtlety. I say “start” because that’s all that’s needed since the Theseus-type thread you saw glimmering on the ground is made of golden but blasted to a strength more like steel.

But I digress. (Yes, like a tigress defending her cubs)

So we were talking about subtlety. I often play a game I call subtlety du jour.

Which is to home in on myself. ( I am a handy and willing model) Yup play detective. Everybody is a crack detective you know, when it comes to what they really want. And all my life I knew I wanted to be happy. That was what it was all about.

And here’s why I stick to Sufism: It could be paraphrased as “The Science of Happiness.” And everyone claims to be seeking that . . .

But to examine “happiness” you have to see it in action. And so you have to poke through to beyond the veils.

Let me give you an example, from my own life. I get ennui. Fortunately it’s getting subtler (My theory is that’s because I am getting wiser)

Ennui used to be losing a wife and having to wear sunglasses at work for a year so people wouldn’t trouble me with questions like “What’s wrong?” or why have you been crying? Or much later, even waiting by the phone hoping for a call from some probably succubus I thought I was in love with.

It had looked too real! But it lacked an important earmark of love (the cure, in Sufism, for ennui and worse) to wit: Peace. Or at least the piece of peace behind even tragic things.

So I pretended I was a doctor and then got hip to the admonition, “Physician, Heal thyself!”

And so I made it my hobby to study myself. Of course you have to love yourself in order to cure yourself. But I always remember the line from Desiderata: “You have a right to be here, no less than the trees and the stars.”

You know what Inayat Khan thought was the best meditation? The one a mother has, thinking of her child, caring for her child, or (just for entertainment) watching day by day how their heart is unfolding. He said she doesn’t need training in focusing her attention. Love taught her that.

And when you come to love yourself, you become to yourself as your child. And so let’s now stipulate that a good hobby (to focus on) is getting rid of any angst of clouds that block your sun.

An example? Well how about impatience?*** It’s interesting to analyze where that comes from, and fun to concoct cures (Remember, in this hobby we are doctors)

And the synthesis is simple just for instance wonder at what’s the big deal, a little delay. Which incidentally can (amusingly) be used to commune with angels or with any of other such messengers from God (like the trees and the stars).

Which is a lot more fun (and energy-generating) than the false feeling of succumbing to an angst who thinks he’s boss. And who can blame him, considering what he has been so regularly allowed to get away with?

God Be With You,
Eric Halliwell

Ps And now I am going to boldly state that the best cure I’ve found for filling spaces invaded by impatience is make it like a blue mosaic, fill those gaps with your conception of God (and God man! use your imagination as a rope to climb out of hell in reverse, like with Rapunzel’s hair. And get the hell out of there!)

*I refer to the tragic John Lennon quote, “Life is what happens while you are making other plans.”

**I confess, living in Guatemala all these years has given me an itch to throw in Spanish. But I wonder is it pretentious? I tell myself E. E. Cummings sprinkled his poetry with lots and lots of French not to mention Greek and with its bizarre looking alphabet!

***Inayat Khan said that patience was the most important virtue!