Hazrat Inayat Khan
Vol. 8, The Privilege of Being Human
1. Man, the Purpose of Creation
In every scripture it is mentioned that man is the ideal of creation. In the Quran it is said, "We have made man the Caliph of the whole creation", in other words, the master of creation. The deeper we study life the clearer we see that life, under all its aspects, under all its names and forms, is constantly working towards the plane of the human being, helping the human being in his life's purpose which is to become God's instrument. One can see that camels, elephants and horses yield to the will of man. One sees that animals like dogs and cats, that birds like parrots and many singing birds, such as canaries, in time become satisfied even when imprisoned in a cage; in their captivity they can enjoy the companionship of man.
It is said that saints and sages in ancient times knew the language of animals. That was not only true in the ancient days, it is true in all times. One can hear what the animals say, one can understand their language. It is a matter of opening the heart, it is the ears of the heart that can hear their language, which cannot be understood in any other way. What one hears is a word, coming from the heart of the animals, which is expressed most in their glance that says not only, "I love you", or, "I adore you", but, "I would like to be like you." When the dog and the cat look at man, they do not only say, "I love you", it is more than that; it is, really speaking, the perfect desire. Desire has its stages, there is a stage of desire where one wishes to be like another. That desire reaches its highest stage when one wants to become another, and herein lies the secret of the mystics and the mystery of life.
When a sculptor wishes to create an object he needs clay, and with it he makes different models in order to produce, to bring forth the perfect object he desires. So all God's creation, in all its stages from animal and bird to man, and in all the different aspects of names and forms which we see before us, is a preparation to fulfil the desire of God which is man. God's words in the Quran are, "We have made man that he may enjoy the creation." If there is any form of life that pleases God it is man.
No doubt man, through his ignorance, has exaggerated this ideal and has gone a little astray. He does not recognize divinity in man, he wants to separate the divine from man. Christ did not. He did not say, "My Father in heaven"; he said, "Our Father in heaven." But when man in his ignorance separates Christ from God and Christ from man, man from Christ and man from God, he misinterprets that most beautiful idea of God given by Christ: the Fatherhood of God and the blessed sonship of man.
Through all the different processes of life evolution has progressed and man, as the ideal of creation, has risen higher than all, which shows that man represents divinity to the whole universe. For instance, the mineral is in man, the vegetable kingdom is in man, the angel is in man, and there is no being of the heavens and of the earth that man does not reflect. No one has ever pictured an angel as different from man; whenever man's imagination produces an angel it sees the angel which is in man - as it also finds a devil in man. Man embraces in himself all the different classes of beings, and at every step he develops and becomes greater than those. If he develops the animal nature, he is more animal than the animals, if he develops devilishness he becomes greater than the devils, and in developing the angelic nature he becomes greater than the angels, for after all angels have bowed at the feet of man. Thus every spirit, every element throughout the whole world, is to be found in man - and yet man is puzzled as to the purpose of his life.
The moment man realizes this, the soul begins to open its eyes to truth, but until then man is asleep, his soul is not yet born. No doubt the answer to man's questions comes in time. Perhaps a thousand answers will come one after another. Every answer will explain something and yet something will be left unexplained. Every veil we lift gives an answer, and yet not the answer. Another answer is still waiting to come in time.
When we observe the purpose of the lives of the different beings in this world we shall surely find a distinct purpose in the life of the human being. For instance, man is very much inclined to pleasure, food, drink and play. Now if he was born for that, how is it that the animals also have those tastes? They also are fond of food and play, but gaining those necessities of life - those animal necessities - causes great disturbance in the case of man, whereas with animals they cause very little of it. If food and sleep and free dwelling can give happiness, then the animal is much happier than man. Man, after the toil of the day, thinks, "How can I find the means to satisfy my desire for pleasure?." He can never be so peaceful, so contented as the animals. If food, drink and play were the purpose of his life, man would be the most miserable of beings.
Then arises the question: is man born to cause all the falsehood, deceit, treachery and harshness that he inflicts upon others? The answer is that, no doubt, he makes life easy for himself by falsehood and by doing harm to others, but at the same time he often is very miserable and cannot avoid the result of everything he does. All the hurt and harm he causes to others must return to him some time or other a thousandfold.
If it were purposed that man should be an angel and lead a pious, good and retired life in the wilderness, in the forest, or in the caves of the mountains, there would have been no necessity to create him. The angels would have been sufficient, for through the very nature of his being a man cannot live as pure, pious and spiritual a life as the angels who are not burdened with the material world. This shows that man was born neither to become an angel nor to be an animal, living the life of an animal. The whole universe is for man.
How can we find out the qualities which may be considered human qualities? They will be apart from the angelic, devilish and animal qualities, and there chiefly is one which can be called a distinct quality of man: sympathy. A great poet has said in Hindi, "Sympathy is the root of religion, and so long as the spirit of sympathy is living in your heart it is illuminated with the light of religion." This means that religion and morals can be summed up in one thing and that is sympathy, which in the words of Christ, as interpreted in the Bible, is charity. All beautiful qualities as tolerance, forgiveness, gentleness, consideration, reverence and the desire to serve - all these come from sympathy. Another poet has said in Urdu that it was for sympathy that man was created, and the day when man discovers this special attribute in himself, he is shown his first lesson of how life should be lived.
First we find how many things there are in life that we should be grateful for, but in our troubles and in the miseries around us the things for which we should be grateful are forgotten, and instead of thankfulness we develop an ungrateful nature. The more complaining a person, the less gratitude he shows in his nature, and the more his gratitude develops, the more he will begin to understand. Saadi says, "The sun, the moon, the planets, the air, the water and the earth are all serving you, aiding life's purpose and preparing for your food. Yet you regard all this unthankfully, absorbed in your own little troubles which are as nothing before the great forces of nature, always working, night and day." Our little troubles overwhelm and disorder our life, and by our absorption we are robbed of the knowledge of God's perfection and greatness.
The first lesson given to man was to be grateful for his daily bread, because that was the greatest necessity of his life. Now that has become so simple and life has changed so much that man forgets to be thankful. He even thinks, "Why should I give thanks?" He forgets that behind his own personality he covers God. His own toil seems more to him than the toil of every atom of nature that is preparing blessings for him.
Self-pity is the worst poverty; it is the source of all unhappiness and blinds man to all he should be thankful for. The constantly complaining habit and the tendency to demand sympathy from others bring the greatest thorn into man's life: he becomes dependent upon the sympathy of others. The best thing is to give sympathy. The food of which every soul is in need is the understanding and sympathy of another.
Man's greatest enemy is his ego which manifests itself in selfishness. Even in his doing good, in his kind actions, selfishness is sometimes at work. When he does good with the thought that one day it may return to him and that he may share in the good, he sells his pearls for a price. A kind action, a thought of sympathy, of generosity, is too precious to trade with. One should give and, while giving, close the eyes. Man should remember to do every little good action, every little kindness, every act of generosity with his whole heart, without the desire of getting anything in return making a trade out of it. The satisfaction must be in doing it and in nothing else.
Every step in evolution makes life more valuable. The more evolved you are, the more priceless is every moment; it becomes an opportunity for you to do good to others, to serve others, to give love to others, to be gentle to others, to give your sympathy to souls who are longing and hungering for it. Life is miserable when a person is absorbed in himself; as soon as he forgets himself he is happy. The more he thinks of himself, his own affairs, work and interests, the less he knows the meaning of life. When a person looks at another he cannot at the same time look at himself. Illness, disappointments and hardships matter very little when one can look at them from a higher standpoint.
Besides this moral point of view there is the mystical aspect, and when looking from the mystical point of view one sees that God's greatest purpose is accomplished by man. In explaining this philosophy I should like to give you the simile of an artist who has produced a beautiful picture. The dogs have looked at it and the cats have looked at it, but that is not enough. When a man who has not understood the idea of the picture, the art, the feeling of it, comes, looks at it and says, "There is nothing in it", then the purpose for which the artist painted the picture is not attained. At last some one else comes, looks at the picture and says, "Oh, what a beautiful idea! It suggests something to me, I can read something from it, it tells me something, it is living." It means that his man has not only understood the picture, but has understood the soul of the artist.
The whole beauty of creation - the dogs have seen it, the cats have seen it, the peacocks and other birds have seen it and in their way they have been delighted, they have enjoyed it, they have danced and rejoiced over it. They have admired it in their own way, but man - besides admiring - sees beyond, his sight penetrates all he sees, and he touches God, the Creator. It is not only praising God, but it is knowing and understanding God which gives the greatest satisfaction to the Deity, because that is the purpose of the creation of man: that he may understand and know. And it is only by seeing the sublimity of nature's beauty, by being impressed by it, by understanding it, by knowing its language, by hearing its voice, that this can be done. The man who is living, who can hear and see and whose heart can feel, has risen above ordinary humanity. It does not mean that man has to become an angel: he needs to live a fuller life, a really human life.
What a great thing is understanding! It is priceless. No man can give greater pleasure to his fellowman than by understanding him. The closest friend in life is the one who understands most. It is not your wife, brother or sister, it is the one who understands you most who is your greatest friend in the world. You can be the greatest friend of God if you can understand God. Imagine how man lives in the world - with closed eyes and closed ears! Every name and every form speaks constantly, constantly makes signs for you to hear, for you to respond to, for you to interpret, that you may become a friend of God. The whole purpose of your life is to make yourself ready to understand what God is, what your fellowman is, what the nature of man is, what life is.
Now coming to a still greater secret of life I want to answer the question: how can we grow to read and understand the message that life speaks through all its names and forms? The answer is that, as by the opening of the eyes you can see things, so by the opening of the heart you can understand things. As long as the heart is closed you cannot understand. The secret is that, when the ears and eyes of the heart are open, all planes of the world are open, all names are open, all secrets, all mysteries are unfolded.
The question arises: what is the manner of opening the heart? The way to it is a natural life, the life of the child, smiling with the smiling one, praying with the praying one, ready to learn from everyone, ready to love. The child has enmity against no one, he has no hatred, no malice, his heart is open. It is in the child that you can see the smiles of angels; he can see through life.
When the grown-up person is made ready, when he has acquired the attributes of the child, then he creates heaven within himself, he understands. The child with his innocence does not understand, but when a man with understanding develops the childlike loving tendency, the purity of heart of the child with the desire to be friendly to all - that is the opening of the heart, and it is by that blessing that he can receive all the privileges of human life.
2. Character-Building
What is character? Character is, so to speak, a picture with lines and colors which we make within ourselves. It is wonderful to see how the tendency of character-building springs up from childhood, just as one sees in a bird the instinct of building a nest. A little child begins to notice all kinds of things in grown-up persons and to adopt all that seems best to it: words, manners, movements, ideas. Everything that it grasps from the grown-up it attracts and gathers, and builds, so to speak, a building with it which is its character. It is being built all through life.
By this we understand that, when a person is absorbed in himself, he has no time for character-building, because he has no time to think of others: then there is no other. But when he forgets himself, he has time to look here and there, to collect what is good and beautiful, and to add it naturally to his character. So the character is built. One need not make an effort to build it, one has only to forget oneself. For instance, actors and actresses with great qualifications cannot act if they do not forget themselves. If the musician cannot forget himself when he is playing, he cannot perform music satisfactorily; the singer's voice will not come out. And so it is with the poet and all other artists.
Think then how the whole work of building oneself, and everything else, depends on how much one is able to forget oneself. That is the key to the whole life, material and spiritual, and to worldly and spiritual success. It seems such a simple thing, and yet it is so difficult.
During my travels, whenever I met with people great in art, science, thought, religion or philosophy, I found that whatever was their work they had touched greatness through this quality, the quality of forgetting themselves. It was always the same everywhere. And again I have seen people with great qualifications, but who remembered themselves so much that they could not do the best with their lives.
I have known a vina-player, a very wonderful musician, who used to play his instrument for six and nine hours daily. But whenever he came into an assembly he became nervous, because the first thought that came to him was himself, and then all the impressions of the people present would fall upon him. Generally he would take his vina, cover it up and run away and with all his qualifications he never had a chance of being great. Self-confidence is a great thing, but forgetting oneself is greater still. I also have seen Sarah Bernardt singing a simple song, the national anthem of France; that was all. But when she came on the stage and sang that song she would win every heart, for at that time she was France, she was able to be France because of her concentration and her forgetting herself.
Character-building is much greater and more important than the building of a house, a city, a nation, an empire, a race. One might ask, "Why is it so important? It is only the building of our little self which is so small." I shall reply that many have built up an edifice, a nation, a race, and they are gone, no memory of them is left. The Taj Mahal is the most beautiful building in the world. Those who see it - artists, architects - have such a great admiration for it, but that is all. No one cares who made it, no one's heart is moved on account of the builder.
To this day Hindus repeat early in the morning, "Ram, Ram." The Buddhists call on the Lord Buddha, and the Christians on Christ. Why? Only because of their ideal personality, of their magnetism. The words of Christ spoken so many hundreds of years ago are remembered to-day because of his personality. It is not spirituality alone: there have been many madzubs; they were very spiritual, they were with God. They have gone and no one remembers them. It is not piety: there are many pious people sitting in mosques and churches turning their rosaries; their piety is for themselves, they cannot move the world. So it is not spirituality, it is not piety. What is it then? It is the development of humanity in us, and this concerns our intelligence, our heart and our mind.
It concerns the intelligence because, if we have love but not the intelligence to know the pleasure of the beloved, then we may be a great lover, but we cannot express our love adequately. It concerns the heart because, if we have intelligence but no feeling, no sympathy, we may speak very politely, we may be very polished in manner, but if there is bitterness within, if within we do not feel what we say, it would be better if we had not spoken. It concerns the mind because, if we have intelligence and feeling but no thought, we have not the manner, we are ignorant. You may know all European manners and decorum very well, but if you are sent out to the court of an Eastern king, you will be at a loss. Or you may know all the etiquette of an Eastern court, but if you come to Europe you know nothing.
It is so great a privilege to be human that we should develop our humanity, and be human in reality as well as in form. It is man who is the ideal of God. It is not the rock which does not know whether a king or a beggar stands upon it, whether a holy man or a wicked person. It is not the angels who have no heart to feel sympathy for one another; they feel the praise of God, they praise God. It is man who has been given a heart.
A Hindustani poet says, "To become nabi, ghawth, qutub is very difficult. What shall I tell you of the difficulties of life, since it is even difficult for man to become human?" To attain to spiritual grades is very difficult. We should first try to be human. To become an angel is not very difficult. To be material is very easy. To live in the world, in all the difficulties and struggles of the world, and be human is very difficult. If we become that, then we become the miniature God on earth.
3. Human Nature
I have seen in my life that it is not difficult to have occult or psychic powers; to be virtuous, to keep our life pure, is not very difficult. To be merciful, to be compassionate, is difficult: it is difficult to be human.
God has many names: the Great, the Powerful, the Mighty, the Sovereign, but he is always called Merciful and Compassionate. In these qualities we are never perfect, we shall never be perfect. As it has been said, "Go into your room at night and repent of what you have done, of all the thousand bad thoughts you have had of friends and enemies." A Persian poet has said, "The whole secret of the two worlds is in these two words: With friends be loving, with enemies courteous."
If you have understood that this world is nothing, if you have recognized that it is a passing thing, why not let others enjoy while you renounce? Why not let others put on the nice dress while you look at it? Why not let others eat the dinner while you be in the kitchen and cook it? Why not let others sit in the car while you drag it, instead of you sitting in the car and making others drag it?
Keep your life noble; that is: be merciful and compassionate. It is the tendency of everyone to take the best of another. Even in friendship there is this tendency. All are seeking their own enjoyment and leave the worst for another. If you are a seeker of God, take the opposite way. Let all the world go one way, while you go the contrary way.
Since the world always oppresses the good, tramples upon the meek, and robs the generous, what conduct of life would be best?
There are three courses. The first is renunciation. This is the way of the saints and sages: to follow the ideal and to accept whatever troubles and sorrows and ill-treatment. The second way is selfishness: to be more selfish than all the rest of the world. The third way is the greatest and the most difficult: it is to have all responsibilities, all the cares of life, to have friends and all, to be as unselfish, as good as possible, and just selfish enough not to be trampled upon.
Life in the world can be pictured as everyone pushing away the other who stands in his way, thus making his way towards his object. Man generally does not mind when he pushes another away, he minds when he is pushed away. When he becomes somewhat considerate then he tries to refrain from pushing others away, and for that very reason he feels hurt when he is pushed away by another.
If a man who is gentle happens to be wise also, he - out of his gentleness - does not push anyone away, nor does he mind being pushed away; he goes on patiently in the pursuit of the object he wishes to accomplish. But when a man who is gentle and kind is void of wisdom, he stands still in life, blocking the way for others and putting himself in a place from where he will always be pushed away.
4. Self-realization
The first thing is to be man. It is not enough to have the form of man, we must be man. If we think that we eat and therefore are men - the animals and birds also eat. If we think that we sleep and therefore are men - the animals and birds all sleep. If we give way to our anger and passions - the animals all have their anger and passions. All that is not enough to make man human.
It is told in India that there were two madzubs at Lahore. Madzubs are those whose interest in spirituality is so great that they quite forget their physical self and even their garb. We in India know them and pay them respect; if they pass, having forgotten their clothes, we just turn our eyes away. These two madzubs were a man and a woman; when they met in the street it was seen that the man tried to avoid the woman, and the woman tried to avoid the man, and they showed signs of confusion while usually they showed no consideration at all. A priest walking behind the man madzub followed him for three days thinking, "I must find out why he behaves thus." At last, after three days, the madzub said to him, "Why do you follow me? What is it you want from me?" The priest replied, "I saw that when you met the woman madzub you covered yourself. Why was it?" The madzub laid his hands upon the priests's head and said to him, "Now go and look at the world; then come back." The priest went into the city and, looking at every person, he saw upon the body of a man the head of a dog, or upon the body of a woman the head of a cat or of a camel or some other animal. Only the woman madzub had a human head. He went back to the madzub and told him what he had seen. The madzub said to the priest, "This must never be told, because the world would be offended. Now you have seen how the world is, and why it does not matter to me to appear as I am before the world. Do you wonder that I cover myself before the madzub only?" This shows us how careful we should be to become at least human first.
If we cannot be trustworthy with our surroundings, with those who rely upon us, we are not human. If we cannot be self-sacrificing with our surroundings, our relations, we are not human. If we compare ourselves keenly with the animals we surely shall see what we must be in order to be human. We must have tolerance; the animal has no tolerance. We must be true; the animal has no truth. We must have shame; the animal has no shame. We must keep our promise; the animal cannot do it. We must share with others; the animal does not share, it sits beside its plate of food and, even if it has eaten enough, it will not let another come near. We must be accommodating; the animal does not accommodate others. We must have sympathy; the animal has no sympathy. We should give up those actions that give us a momentary joy, but of which we repent afterwards. Sometimes we do things of which for the moment we are glad, and then for years we repent. We should check the animal passions that carry us away. There is a great reward for it; for every little attempt to overcome, for every little check, there is a great reward.
How many times do we become troublesome to ourselves and others by our lack of human qualities? How many times are we annoyed with our own self?. To become human is the most difficult thing. Hali, a great Indian poet, says, "What can there be easy when it is even difficult for man to become man?" How much do we have to learn before we can say that we are truly human!
It is by his quality of sympathy, by his kindness to others that man becomes human. When the animal-self, which is called nafs is before him, he wants to take everything for his own benefit. When he develops his sympathy, when he can sacrifice his self for the benefit of another, he realizes that moral which the cross symbolizes. Then he becomes farishteh (an angel who is sent on earth), then he becomes God.
In order to reach the next stage, to become angel, we must become a soldier and make another our colonel: we must make God, our self within, our colonel and thereby learn discipline. We must please Him. If we have a need we must ask Him. We must not ask anyone else; we must not tell anyone else. If we have a sorrow we must tell Him; if we have a joy we must tell Him. A listener is there for our sorrow and joy. Why should we humiliate ourselves by bringing our joy and sorrow and want before others? If we feel an obligation, let us be obliged to Him. If we want to complain, let us complain to Him. Why should we complain to others who cannot help us?
We must become a lover and idealize God, our self within, as our Beloved, thinking of His mercy and compassion, admiring the sublimity of His nature, bowing most humbly before His almighty power, and considering Him at every move we make, lest He should be displeased with us. Then at every step astray we are warned from within, "This is not right for you." At every right step we are cheered from within.
The higher we rise, the more particular we should be, for if one goes into society a very small impoliteness disgraces a person, while a man from the slums may fight and box in his eating-house and the next day, when people meet, they say, "Hullo, good morning", and are ready to be as before.
The day we think, "I am good, I am perfect", our eyes are veiled. The day we think, "I am wise", darkness has come upon us, and all the progress we have made is lost. We must always be ready to learn: from a child, from a drunkard, from a foolish person, from everyone, from all those who act differently.
Perfection does not lie in the innocence of a child, nor does it lie in being a jinn or a fairy; it lies in going through all vibrations, from the highest plane to this one, in experiencing all. A child is friends with the enemy because it does not know that he is its enemy. To know that the enemy is an enemy and yet to be kind - that is to be truly kind. To know the badness of the world and then to become harmless - that is innocence.
In India there are many such holy persons. Their innocence is so great that it shines out from them - much more than from a child. Their presence is peace and joy. I knew a sage who was very much revered. His humility was so great that when little boys came to see him, before they could bow to his feet as is the custom or kiss his hand, his head was on their feet and he said, "I am your servant, I am your slave. You are much greater than me." Those sages always think that every other is much greater than they.
It is very difficult for a person of a certain evolution to like those of another evolution. If a person goes and sits in a care and always speaks of God or Christ, and says, "Christ was great, Christ said this or that", the other people will say, "Please, go to the church if you wish to speak of God and Christ." And if a person who wishes to drink goes to the church, they will say to him, "Go to the care if you wish to drink. Here it is not the place." I myself have sometimes been told, "Please, do not mention the name of God in our society, or the name of Christ. Say what you please about science, about the planes, but do not speak the name of God here."
That is why the Sufi takes the other way. He sees the good in every thing. He sees the face of God everywhere. He is in all companies. One Sufi always recognizes another, wherever he is, in whatever religious or social garb the other may be. That is the Sufi message of friendship. Unless each one of us bears this message into the world, peace can never come to the world.
Self-realization has been taught by all religions as it is their spirit. The underlying truth is the same in all, though their principles may differ. What is this self-realization, this knowledge of the self?
We all know the self that we see, we know: I am tall or short or of medium height, I am fat or thin. We know the name that has been given to us, whether John or Jacob or Henry. We know also: I have a temper, or: I have my clever ways, I have these merits and these faults, I have this work or this particular way of enjoyment in life, I have responsibilities and cares and sorrows and joys, I have friends and acquaintances and enemies. But all this is not enough. We should consider whether that which we are doing from morning till night, which we are striving after, to which we give a great importance, will remain with us - be it money, fame, name or whatever it may be. Does it make us happy? Does it give us the knowledge of what we were and what we shall be? We should know what we were before, whence we came and whither we shall go, from what all this world has come and into what it will turn.
If I were to explain from what all this manifestation has come, how it has been produced and into what it will turn, it would take a very long time. It is a long subject, but in a few words I can say: How could there be room on this earth for all the people that ever have been, if this matter remained as we see it? Even for the people living on earth where they are many, often famines come, diseases, plagues and wars. If all that matter did not return by various processes to the unseen from which it has come, there would be no room left on earth, nor in the water, nor in space. Matter is all destroyed, annihilated, and nothing can save it when the call of annihilation comes.
If you think that fame and name can live, I will say: do you suppose that Beethoven and Wagner were the only musicians of their time? There have been many, many others who have come and gone about whom no one knows anything, and a day will come when those names which are known to-day will also be wiped off from the world's memory.
The aim of all religions and philosophies is the understanding and the realization of unity. The Vedanta philosophy teaches advaita: There is no such thing as "two"; the whole is one and the same being. In the Bible it is said, "I and my Father are one", which means unity, and then, "Be ye perfect as your Father in heaven is perfect", which shows that in this unity lies perfection, amplitude. When we come to the Hadith we read, "By knowing himself man can know God", which means that by realizing himself he realizes God.
Supposing that there are some people who believe this and ask, "If we ourselves are the Whole Being, why should we not do whatever we please? Whom should we fear? Before whom should we pray?"- I would say to such a person, "If I take all you possess, will you let me have it?" He at once will say, "No, it is mine." But then he is not the Whole Being, he is a limited being. He recognizes "you and I": separate beings. By learning this philosophy of "I am all" intellectually people have many times been led astray. It is not enough to have read a few books of philosophy and to think, "Now I know all." That is not mastery. By books one can learn intellectually that we are all, but books cannot give us realization, the realization by experience in which we are sure, in which no doubt can remain in the soul.
Self-realization can be learned only in one way, in three grades. For this one needs no books, no study; one can learn it only from life. If a least little insult makes one vexed, and a least little praise makes one feel so flattered - if that is one's condition - how can one call oneself God-conscious? The self-realized ones are those to whom insult or praise, rise or fail are indifferent. They will deserve to be called so whom neither sin nor virtue can touch. Heaven and hell are the playgrounds of their imagination. They are, although on earth, yet above the earth.
It is then that self-realization comes, fana. When does it come? When there is no thought, no idea at all anywhere touching the breath of one's existence as a limited being. When all idea of this external being is gone, then comes the consciousness of the unlimited Being, of God. This is annihilation, fana, which is shown by the cross. Christ's words have always taught renunciation, annihilation. This can be learned by the three grades of which I have spoken: first to be man, then to be angelic, then union with the Divinity.
5. The Art of Personality
Individuality and Personality
There is a difference between individuality and personality, just as there is a difference between nature and art. However much nature is near to man's soul, art is closer to his heart. If it were not so man would have preferred to live in the forest; he would have roamed about in nature and would have been quite satisfied in the wilderness; he would have found the greatest charm in what the wilderness can offer and in the beauty to be seen in the forest. Instead of all this man has created a world - a world which he has made for himself- and in that world he has made a nature of his own imagination, a nature which he calls art. If that is art then on this art much depends.
People may say, "Is it not an imitation of nature?" Yes, it is an imitation of nature. You might say, "Then it is not as great as Nature", but I say: both nature and art are made by the same Artist. Nature is made directly by the Artist, and art is made indirectly through the pen of the Artist. Art is the finishing of that beauty which begins to manifest itself in nature. A person who has not come to this conception of art does not yet know the divinity of art.
Now as to the question what art has to do with personality, personality is art itself, and the greatest art.
Once a lady told me, "My parents brought me up just like a plant grows in the wilderness." When I replied, "It is a great pity", she was surprised.
What is education, what is culture, what is self-development? It is all art, it is the way for individuality to culminate into personality.
In ancient times the religious education and human culture in every form mainly had the culture of the personality as their central theme. To-day we are expected to learn mathematics, geography, history and other things, but never the art of personality which is of the greatest use in life. Apart from its spiritual significance, we see in our everyday life that a salesman who is pleasant, courteous and well-mannered is successful. If he lacks manner he will be repellent; he may have all kinds of beautiful things in his shop, he will have no success. If a clerk in an office, a secretary, an assistant, a supervisor has a charming personality, a kindly manner, a sympathetic attitude, he will win the affection of all; everything will be light, everything will go smoothly. If he lacks the art of personality, he may have all qualifications, he may be a most capable person, yet things will not run smoothly. A person, whether man or woman, may be a barrister, a solicitor, a doctor, a most qualified individual, but if the art of personality is not developed he will be disagreeable and unpleasant - in his own home and in all walks of life. The art of personality is the main thing to develop; if not, a person misses a great deal.
The ancient people lived on tradition, and especially in the East they regarded their ancestors not for their titles or their great works, but for the art of their personality. To-day in modern civilization people have become regardless of this art which considers the equality of all men. Equality to-day is working in quite another direction: instead of rising upward toward the level of the best, people want to go downward and join the level of the worst.
When you hear the word equality it seems a beautiful thing, it sounds very nice, it seems a religious, a philosophical idea. But what is life, if it is not a symphony? And is not every person a note in this symphony? Suppose that you want to hear music and that all the notes are the same. How would you enjoy that music? If all notes are equal, there is no music; if all persons are the same, there is no symphony. The way to understand equality is different: it is rising to the best, to the highest pitch. And everyone can rise to that pitch if he wants to rise. But since man takes the way of the least resistance, he falls to the level of the average person.
It must be remembered that disregard of the principle, which is called the art of personality, may lead the present generation, the modern civilization, there where it can find nothing but disappointment, especially when materialism is prevailing all over and there is nothing to think about but matter; this in itself keeps man away from the art of personality. If this art is not introduced, and if there is no love for it, what then happens is that the human being does not become any better than the lower creation.
Is a human being greater than an animal because he possesses wealth, or because he has read many books, or because he has learned much? Does that make him greater as a human being? No, man is greater when from an individual he has become a person. Very few of us distinguish between individuality and personality. Individuality is that which we have brought with our birth. We are born as a separate entity; that itself makes us an individuality. But personality is something that is acquired; it has not come with us, it is something we gain. If a tree grew in a garden in the same way as it grew in the forest, the gardener would say, "You are not welcome here; you should fit in with the surroundings. This is a garden, it is not a forest." Besides this, the art of personality is not only something one should learn in order to become pleasant to others: the art of personality fulfills the purpose of life.
Now arises the question: what is the art of personality? Is it mannerism, putting on different airs of expression, a special politeness, a society rhythm? Not at all; it is falsehood, which people adopt by being unnatural and acting unnaturally. Instead of giving a better impression of themselves, they give a worse impression. The art of personality expresses itself spontaneously. One need not act in a certain way, one need not put on something: it is the expression of oneself which shows the art of personality. Expressing the art of personality is the sign of the great. Knowingly or unknowingly a person may develop that manner in himself and it is wonderful to watch it.
When in India I was very fond of seeing the celebrities known in our country. One day I heard that a great wrestler was visiting our town. I had never approved of something which made one person win and the other fail, but because this man was a celebrity I wanted to see him. One would expect very little from the personality of a wrestler, but in this personality, in spite of all muscular and nervous strength, there was such a kindly manner, such a sympathetic look, such an outgoing attitude and such a serenity that I thought, even a wrestler, who does the most material and physical work, can show that it is his personality, and not something material, which has made him great.
One may ask: If we have a personality, why must we develop it? But even a diamond must be cut! It has light in it, yet cutting is required to awaken it. It cannot show its glow and brilliancy before it has been cut. It is the same with the personality.
Movement
Then one may ask: what are the different aspects of the art of personality? Its first aspect is action, or movement. Very often, before a person has spoken a word, he has achieved a movement which causes a jar upon the delicate sensibility of the one who sees it, and who may form an opinion about that person before he knows him - only because of that movement. In one movement a person can show his state of mind; unless he has the power to control it, he can show stubbornness, weakness, foolishness. All these things can be traced in a man when he walks, sits, or stands up. Those who can recognize a person in a twinkling of an eye need not study physiognomy: one movement shows them whether he is evolved or unevolved. When the science of movement has not been taught, has not been understood, and a person's movements are not directed, these may be such that they impress themselves upon his spirit and turn his whole being into a wrong personality. Education has given very little attention to this.
Speech
Another aspect of the art of personality belongs to the realm of speech. The more we understand about this, the more we shall know that for every word there is a time, and for every word there is a place. Everything we say, which is in its own place and which is fitting, will be good; it becomes wrong when it is said in a place which is not its own. People generally do not think about it. Often they are outspoken; they do not mind when to speak, what to say, where to speak. A person who has no control over his speech becomes a kind of machine that goes on and on and on without any will at the back of it. Remember that not only those persons do not gain the affection, the approbation of others, but they repel others. Being talkative they cannot keep any secret. They have to tell it; they have the habit to speak, they have no control over it. The art of personality is not so difficult to learn; it is learning to be thoughtful. Those who speak much, very often say so little; others who speak little say much. It depends upon the way in which things are said.
In the Bible it is said, "First was the word and the word was God." This shows what power the word has. If we control our speech, if we know how to use a word, we know the chemistry of life and how to utilize it to the best purpose. Sometimes a person can change a situation by one word, which another cannot change by using a hundred hammers. One can hammer at a rock and break it - that is the way of the hammer. And there is the way of the water. If the rock is in the way the water will not hammer at it, will surround it, will run smoothly over it and make its way over the top of the rock, and so will its waves proceed.
If someone is upset, among ten people who want to console him, there are nine who upset him more, and there is rarely one person who consoles him. This also belongs to the art of personality - if only one knew it!
Thinking
Another aspect of the art of personality is sympathetic and right thinking. By right thinking all one naturally says and does becomes right, because the root of every speech and action is in the mind. So by right thinking one naturally speaks and acts rightly; one cannot do otherwise. But what generally happens is that one never considers it in connection with others: if there is any wrong it is in the other. And it is very wonderful that the one who is most in the wrong, is the one who sees most wrong in others. You will see that the person who is full of wrong knows a thousand wrongs about a thousand people.
Besides, our experiences make us so pessimistic that if anyone says, "I have seen someone who is such a nice, kind and good person", we begin to doubt. Unconsciously our first thought is, "Can it be true? No, it cannot be true; there is no such thing as good in the world." And as soon as someone says, "I have seen such a wicked person", everybody is interested, because people believe that. It shows that, as we always experience wrong things, we hardly expect that ever there can be something right.
Feeling
The fourth aspect of the art of personality is feeling. The great drawback of modern civilization is that man today thinks that it is balanced and practical to think with the brain, to reason things out. But to feel with the heart he thinks is not practical, is not common sense. Therefore today is considered normal and balanced the person who lives in his brain, and the one whose heart is developed is called fanatic or unpractical. Imagine, after having read in the Bible the lesson that God is love, one comes to realize that he who has less God in him is more practical, and he who has more God in him is a good for nothing! When there is a discussion among intellectual persons, it is understood between them to keep sentiment apart: to discuss keeping to the point, just to recite facts, "that keeps reasoning clear." But this takes away the beauty of life! The art of personality is in the profound, the deep feeling which directs every thought, speech and action of man.
The Art of Jesus
When Jesus Christ told the fishermen, "Come hither and I shall make you fishers of men", he said, in other words, to those who were absorbed in catching fishes at the sea-shore, "I shall teach you the art of personality." This is, therefore, not a subject which I bring before you, it is a subject which Christ taught. It is the art of personality which the prophets proved with their own lives to be of the greatest importance.
The impression Buddha left upon millions of people in the East, who keep his statue in their temples, seeing the expression of God in Buddha - what is it? Is it the theories and dogmas and teachings he gave? No, it is his personality which made such a deep impression upon people that for centuries they held it sacred; it has proved to be more precious than anything else in the world. This is not a subject of which one can say that it is no better than any other. On the contrary, it is a subject of the greatest importance.
There are millions of Muslims whose hearts are touched, whose eyes fill with tears on hearing the name of the Prophet. What is it that touches them? Is it the teaching that the Prophet gave? What touches them is the personality of the Prophet, his personality has made the deep impression which still remains, which never can be erased.
The art of personality, therefore, is a magic. The fishermen among whom Jesus Christ had to walk were incapable of knowing the greatness of the Master, and not ready to understand the message he brought. Yet they used to stand spell-bound in the presence of the Master; they used to be deeply impressed by the personality of the Teacher. What was it that impressed them? It was not the new teaching they received, it was the example before their eyes.
The Sufis of all ages considered the art of personality of the greatest importance. The Yogi principle of asceticism has nothing to do with it; it is another ideal. The wise ones of all ages thought that God manifested Himself in the form of man and, from an individual to a person, developed as a soul, and that herein lies the fulfillment of life's purpose. Therefore this was not only the main purpose of education, but also the central theme of religion and of life as a whole. What is religion taught for if not in order to make of man a personality? For every man is not a personality!
There is a metaphysical point to this subject, which distinguishes two aspects of man: the machine and the engineer. When man's machine part covers the spark which may be called the engineer, man is subjected to all outer influences such as cold and heat, wind and storm. These all condition his success or failure. The other part of man is a divine spark. It is that spark which makes him the engineer and gives him command over the machine. Instead of allowing the machine to be subjected to outer influences, the engineer part gradually gains his own influence over the instrument. Herein lies the secret of the art of personality. One condition is slavery, the other mastery. In the first condition one is placed by nature, to the next one is brought through development of the personality.
Learning the Art
Now you may ask: How does one learn the art of personality? In the same way as one learns the art of painting or drawing. First one learns how to draw a straight line, a horizontal line, a circle, a curve. In the same way, learning the art of personality, one learns how to say a thing and how not to say a thing, how to avoid saying a thing, and how to say a thing without saying it. Then one learns the art of light and shade. This art of light and shade is knowing how to hide a certain part in conversation and how to bring another part to prominence. Then there is the coloring. There is a great variety of colors. Every feeling, every thought, every idea has its particular color, and when a person knows how many of these colors there are, and when he composes with them all he says and does in life, then this becomes an art: the art of personality.
If a person has collected diamonds, or if he has got pearls or rubies, what is it, if he has not developed in his personality that precious quality which makes a person precious? What is it all? All those things are nothing.
There are four grades through which one develops in the art of personality.
- The first grade is when a person becomes thoughtful, and so begins to observe his thoughts, to see his actions.
- The second grade is when he not only observes his thoughts and actions, but is able to control them.
- The third grade is when a spontaneous out-flow of sympathy comes from that person, when it is natural that his attitude is outgoing, that his personality attracts and becomes a blessing.
- And the fourth grade is a grade where no effort has to be made by the artist to realize the art of personality. In this grade the artist becomes art itself, and whatever he does - it all becomes a beautiful picture.
6. Man is likened to the Light
Man is Likened to the Light
Man is likened to the light:
- his soul the glow,
- his mind the flame, and
- his body the end of the flame.
- The heat that comes from the light is the atmosphere of man.
- The smoke that rises out of the light in reality does not belong to the light, it belongs to the fuel. As ignorance in man is troublesome, so the smoke rising out of the light disturbs.
As different lights differ in their degree of radiance, so do different souls. The substance of every man, however, is the same: it is light. We read in ancient scriptures that the angels were made of fire. It is not fire they were made of, it is light. But if we ask the question, "Were the angels made of light and no one else?", the answer will be that all, each and everyone, were created out of light.
Signs of Spirituality
The difference between our soul and our body, which sometimes we consider as great as between earth and heaven, is not so great. Soul and body are one light, and therefore the external part of man is expressive of his inner being, and the inner being of man also is dependent in many ways upon his external being. "Inner and outer part of man's being" is a term used for our convenience; in reality there is one being, there is one light.
If a man lacks magnetism, if he lacks enthusiasm and courage, if he lacks power of accomplishment, it is all owing to the lack of that radiance which belongs to his being. The health of the body, the balance of the mind, the purity of the soul all depend upon the radiance of man's being.
- Health of the body therefore is spiritual,
- balance of the mind is spiritual, and so is
- the purity of the soul.
- A good atmosphere is a sign of spirituality;
- the power of the word,
- courage without fear,
- fearlessness,
- self-confidence also are signs of spirituality;
- the capability of accomplishing something and
- the strength of struggling along all through life.
All these are the signs of spirituality.
The Purpose of Life
The purpose of the life of an individual is to perfect the light in him, which is his very being. Whatever may be the qualification of a person, whatever be his resources, position and rank, if the light within him is not brilliant, he cannot fulfil the purpose of his life.
In the Bible, in the allegory of the ten wise and foolish virgins, the same idea is explained. The foolish ones did not keep oil in their lamps, the wise virgins kept it. The wise ones, therefore, answered the purpose on the day which was promised and the foolish ones repented. Ten means one, zero meaning nothing: a wise soul and a foolish soul. The wise soul collected all material in order to make his light more brilliant for that day which was the day of the promise. The foolish soul wasted it, and found it absent at the time it was needed.
When we think of our life in the world, in our material strife, in our spiritual struggle - what do we need? We need that light the spark of which is within us, which is our being. Every time when we are without it, when we lack it, it causes us all failure and distress in life, since our health, our balance and the clearness of our vision, all depend upon the light that is within.
Fuel for the Light
As every light needs fuel, so the light which is ours, which is ourself, needs fuel also. The fuel for the physical part of our life is what we call food, but for the life of the mind intellectual sustenance is necessary. If the body is fed and the mind is not, then naturally that light becomes less. The sustenance of the soul is the divine ideal, which is both love and light. If the soul does not receive that nourishment which is necessary for it, then the soul is starved. The body may be nourished, but it is not sufficient. That is why we see before our physical eyes many famine-stricken souls, but if we saw with the spiritual eyes we would see still more famine in humanity.
What do we learn in Sufism? We learn in Sufism that mysticism which teaches us how to collect the fuel which is necessary not only for the body, but for our mind and soul. By concentration, by meditation, by all other ways of contemplative practices, the purpose accomplished by the Sufi is that purpose which is the longing of every soul.
Q and A
Question: What are the means, except concentration and meditation, to develop and strengthen that light in oneself?.
Answer: Right living.
Question: What is right living? Is it doing what everyone thinks right?
Answer: If each person would have his way of right living there would be anarchy. I would consider right living that which is right for oneself and for others. If not, those who do good or who do wrong can all justify themselves by thinking that what they do is best. Reason is the slave of man, it always comes and sympathizes with him. One asks, "Have I not done right?", or "Have I not done wrong?", and the reason says, "Yes, you have."
Question: How can one live so that it is approved of by others?
Answer: It is impossible to live the life that one considers best and that others consider best. But one can do one's best.
Question: One sees people in whom the divine spark of light is more or less extinguished and who still live an apparent virtuous life.
Answer: An apparent virtuous life is something different. Right living in my sense is not only virtuous living. Right living has a still deeper meaning, for what I call a right life is the first step to that which may be called true life. The third step is truth itself. The mystics say that there are three steps to the goal: right life, true life and truth. A person who loves to live a right life and who tries to do it, even if he is not a contemplative or meditative or religious person, must certainly arrive at that high stage, at that goal which is the ideal goal; for within man there is truth, and the seeking of man is truth. Therefore right living helps him to realize truth.
If I were to interpret the words of Christ, "Strait is the gate and narrow is the way", I would say that there is a path in life, a path of going strait, and that path is like walking upon a wire. In the circus they make a show of it. It is exactly the picture: at every step one takes there is fear of falling either to one side or to the other. Jugglers in India even make a better picture of it. They take two very light bamboos and tie a rope on the top of them. The juggler stands on the rope in a brass tray and his task is to go from one point to the other. While he is travelling thus, his colleagues from below beat drums and sing horrible songs in order to distract his mind. He has to keep his concentration and secure his balance in spite of all the music calling him from below. That is the picture of right living.
Question: But once one is failing... ?
Answer: Truth is merciful. One cannot fall but on truth; if one falls, one will only fall in the arms of truth. A seeker after truth has no loss. If apparently he loses something, it is not a loss in the end.
Question: What does it mean "to fall in the arms of truth"?
Answer: If a fall is caused in a certain struggle one has fallen in the arms of that particular struggle. If it is in the struggle for love, then it is in the arms of love that one falls. If it is in the struggle for righteousness, one falls in the arms of righteousness. Just as they say that. in a holy war a person gives his life for a holy purpose, and is therefore in the arms of that holy object, so, if a person has fallen in the struggle for truth, he has fallen in the arms of truth.
Besides, the hopeful never fails: both his rise and fall mean success. Failure is the loss of hope. As long as there is hope there is no failure.
Question: And what of those who do not hope any longer?
Answer. Then that is the end of success.
Question: Is there nothing that can help them?
Answer: A miracle can do something; nothing is impossible. Nothing is more painful than the loss of hope. A hopeless person is a dead person. A person who is dead with hope is living, but a person walking on the earth without hope is as dead.
Question: How can one revivify a soul?
Answer: By imparting one's life to him, just as a lighted candle can light another candle which is put out. When the fire has gone out in the stove one must bring some other fire to light it again. One has to give from one's own hope; therefore the one who gives must be powerful enough to give it.
Question: When can one consider oneself powerful enough to give?
Answer: One can judge it by one's own self-confidence, because that life one gives from one's own life to another comes from self-confidence. In the Sufi terminology it is called iman. lt is the most sacred thing in the whole religion; self-confidence is the secret of all miracles.
Question: Is love for one's neighbor not sufficient to help?
Answer: Love is the substance, by self-confidence one makes that substance, and by the power of self-confidence one is able to impart it. For instance, if one sees a person who is very ill and one thinks, "What can I do, how can I do something?", then one can do nothing. For healing, it is all self-confidence that is needed, for healing oneself and for healing another. Not only for healing, but for all things - in business, in industry, in all work - self-confidence is necessary.
Question: How can self-confidence, confidence in oneself, in one's own affairs, help another person?
Answer: Self-confidence gives the power to manage one's affairs better and to help others too. Suppose a doctor comes to see a patient who is in a bad condition and says, "Oh, you have called me too late; this person has gone very far. Still, as you have called me here, I shall write a prescription." But another doctor may say, "It is never too late. I am sure that all will be well. I shall do my very best, and certainly the patient will recover." He may give the same prescription as the first doctor, but his prescription will be of much greater value. Why? Because besides the medicine, he has given his self-confidence which is a million times greater in healing-power than prescriptions.
It is the same in all things. A person may start a business, an enterprise, and someone may come along and take away all his strength by saying, "What a fool you are to have begun this. Have you thought of this and that?" Then all the power and radiance the man has can be lost in a moment's time. Another person may say, "It is a noble undertaking; I am sure you will succeed. Therefore my prayer, my thoughts are with you; I shall do all I can to help you in your enterprise. I wish you success."
Question: In order to be quite sure to be able to give to another should one not have a great deal of vitality oneself?.
Answer: Vitality also comes from self-confidence. Very often one will see a person with no extraordinary strength and vitality having more strength than a Sandow.
Independence is the sign of self-confidence. It is just like a wealthy person who has wealth enough for himself and who always can give to others. A person with limited means, after one day of generosity, the next day will be broken.
7. Truth
We generally confuse truth with fact, and we often use the word fact for truth. When we look at it from the mystic's point of view we find that words are too intricate ever to explain what is truth. All that is given to man as truth and that he has received as truth in all ages has been a kind of re-echo of the realization of truth, which language has always limited and made subtle. In reality everything is subtle and complex, but nothing is simpler than truth. Things are complex and difficult because man makes them so. Truth is simple and plain.
In the Sufi terminology there is one word, Haqq, which means God and also truth. This term itself explains that God is truth and truth is God. Truth is that which cannot be pointed out, because all things that can be compared have their opposite, but neither God nor truth has an opposite. Names are to point out forms, and words are to distinguish one thing from another, while definitions come from the pairs of opposites or at least from differences. That which is all-pervading and is in all things and beings, that which every word explains and yet no word can explain, is God and is truth.
Men have differed in all ages because they have called their Deity by different names. There have existed wars, fights and family feuds for ages, men dividing themselves merely for the difference of the names they gave to their Deity. Man always sees just what he sees; he cannot see beyond it. With the ideal of his Deity, with the separate names of man's Deities, with all the different attitudes of worshipping his Deity, man remains separate from God, for God is truth and truth is God.
In past ages people have rounded new religions, formed in the name of God; they have built churches, rounded in the name of God and truth; they held their scriptures in esteem and honor, and revered the names of their leaders, of the prophets and seers of the religion to which they belonged. And with all his progress man does not seem to have progressed any further than the religions as known to-day. Bias and bigotry exist in the followers of different creeds, in their temples and churches, in the houses of their prayers, in their congregations of particular communities.
The consequence is that religion and the religious spirit has been enfeebled. This even has reacted upon the minds of others who stay away from religion and yet partake of that tendency towards difference, definition and separation which divides mankind into different sections called nations, races or communities. The reaction culminates into results still worse than the action. All wars, disasters and unhappy experiences that humanity has seen, are the outcome of this spirit of intolerance, division and separation, which naturally comes through lack of wisdom and understanding and through the ignorance of truth.
Then the question arises: what is the way to attain the truth? Can it be attained by study? The answer is that the source of realizing the truth is within man - but man is the object of his realization. There are words of Hazrat Ali, saying that the one who knows himself truly knows God.
Man, absorbed from morning till evening in his occupations which engage his every attention to the things of the earth and of self interest, remains intoxicated. Seldom there are moments in his life, brought about by pain or suffering, when he experiences a state of mind which can be called soberness. Hindus call this state of mind sat, which is a state of tranquillity. Man then begins to become conscious of some part of his being which he finds to have almost been covered from his eyes. When we look at life from this point of view we find that an individual who claims to be a living being is not necessarily living a full life. It is only a realization of inner life which at every moment unveils the soul, and brings before man another aspect of life in which he finds fullness, a greater satisfaction, and a rest which gives true peace.
Can he speak about this to his fellowmen? And if he does, what can he say? Can he say, "I am purer", or "more exalted than you", or "I understand life better than you"? As life unfolds itself to man the first lesson it teaches is humility; the first thing that comes to man's vision is his own limitedness. The vaster God appears to him, the smaller he finds himself. This goes on and on until the moment comes when he loses himself in the vision of God. In the terms of the Sufis this is called fana, and it is this process that was taught by Christ under the name of self-denial. Often man interprets this teaching wrongly and considers renunciation as self-denial. He thinks that the teaching is to renounce all that is in the world. But although that is a way and an important step which leads to the true self-denial, the self-denial meant is the losing of oneself in God.
Then the question arises: How can one lose oneself in God? The body is a person, the mind is active, there are feelings of joy, pleasure, love and hatred, and there is the existence with which we identify ourselves and which we call by a certain name and where we feel pain and pleasure. How can one deny oneself and lose oneself in God?
There also is another question which arises from the heart of the intellectual: "How can I even accept the idea that there exists a Deity? How can I lose myself in someone whom I do not know and cannot point out?" By reasoning with oneself and by trying to study oneself analytically it is possible to get nearer to the true knowledge of one's being. If we consider that every part that constitutes our being has its own name - the hand, the foot, every part of our being has a different name, quality and purpose, and even a separate form - what is it then in man which says "I", and identifies itself with what it sees? It is not our head, hand or foot which says "I", nor is it the brain. It is something that we cannot point out which identifies itself with all these different parts and says "I" and "mine" and knows itself to be the person who sees. This in itself is ignorance, and it is this which the Hindus have called avidya.
How can you be that which you possess? You cannot be horse and rider at the same time, nor can you be carpenter and tool at the same time. Herein lies the secret of mortality and immortality: it is the mortal being that, through illusion, claims immortality.
It is more important to find out the truth about oneself than to find out the truth about heaven and hell, or about many other things which are of less importance and are apart from oneself. However, every man's pursuit is according to his state of evolution, and so each soul is in pursuit of something - but he does not know where it leads him. The first sign of realization of truth is tolerance towards others. There are the words of Christ, "In the house of my Father are many mansions", and those of the Prophet, "Each soul has its own religion." This means that according to his evolution so man knows the truth and the more a man knows, the more he finds there is to learn.
The mystics have in all ages recognized the virtue of purity which is represented by innocence. A man filled with earthly knowledge - and what he calls learning is often only the knowledge of names and forms - has no capacity for the knowledge of truth, or of God. It is the innocent and pure soul who has a capacity for learning. When a person comes to take a lesson on any subject, and he brings his own knowledge with him, the teacher has little to teach him, for the doors of his heart are not open. His heart that should be empty in order to receive knowledge is occupied by the knowledge that he already had acquired. In order to know the truth or to know God earthly qualifications and earthly wisdom or learning are not necessary. What one has to learn is how to become a pupil.
We often start our lives as teachers, and then it is hard to become a pupil. From childhood on we start to teach our parents; there seldom are souls who have more inclination for pupilship than for teaching, and there are many whose only difficulty in life is that they are teachers already. Man thinks that perhaps his reading or study of different religions and doctrines has qualified him and made him capable to understand the truth and to have the knowledge of God, but he forgets that there is only one teacher, and that is God Himself. We all are pupils, and what we can do in life is to qualify ourselves to become true pupils.
It is the receptivity of our heart and the passivity of our mind, it is the eagerness, the thirst and hunger after truth, it is the direction of our whole life to that Ideal from who all light and truth come, that alone can bring to us truth and the knowledge of God. All knowledge of the earth is as clouds covering the sun. It is the breaking of these clouds and the clearness of the sky, or in other words the purity of heart, which give the capacity for the knowledge of God.
The question may be asked: Is any effort required for realizing the truth? The answer is: Yes, there is a work that one can do which is as the work of a farmer: it is to cultivate the heart. But where man makes a mistake is that, when he cultivates the heart, he wishes to sow the seed himself instead of leaving the sowing to God. As to the way how to cultivate the heart, the first condition is explained in a story. A young man went to a great seer in Persia and asked him for guidance on the spiritual path. The seer asked him, "Have you loved in your life?" "No", said he, "not yet." The seer answered, "Go and love. and know what love is. Then come to me."
According to the belief of a Sufi the heart is the shrine of God, and when the doors of the shrine are closed it is just like a light being hidden under a bushel. The pupil sees that God is love. If He is love He does not stay in the heavens; His earthly body is the heart of man. When that heart is frozen and when there is no love but bitterness, coldness, prejudice and contempt, unforgiving feelings and hatred - which all come from one source: want of tolerance, the feeling, "I am different and you are different"- then that spirit and that light of God, that divine essence that is in the heart of man, is buried as in a tomb. The work that one has to do is to dig it up, as one would dig the ground until one touched the water underneath.
What the Sufi calls riyazat, a process of achievement, is nothing else than digging constantly in that holy land which is the heart of man. Surely in the depth man will find the water of life. However, digging is not enough. Love and devotion, no doubt, help to bring out frequent merits hidden in the soul, as sincerity, thankfulness, gentleness and forgiving qualities, all things which make man a true man, all things which produce an harmonious atmosphere, and all things which bring men in tune with life, the saintly life and the outer life. All those merits come, no doubt, by kindling the fire of love in the heart. But it is possible that in this process of digging one may only reach mud and lose patience. So dismay, discontentment may follow and man may withdraw himself from further pursuit. It is patient pursuit which will bring the water from the depth of the ground; for until one reaches the water of life one meets with mud in digging. it is not love, but the pretence of love, that imposes the claim of self. The first and last lesson in love is, "I am not - Thou art", and unless man is moved to that selflessness he does not know justice, right or truth: his self stands above or between him and God.
There is a well known Eastern legend giving the idea of a soul who had found truth. There was a wall of laughter and of smiles. This wall existed for ages and many tried to climb it, but few succeeded. Those who had climbed upon it saw something beyond, and so interested were they that they smiled, climbed over the wall and never returned. The people of the town began to wonder what magic could be there and what attraction, that whoever climbed over the wall never returned. So they called it the wall of mystery. Then they said, "We must make an enquiry and send someone who can reach the top, but we must tie him with a rope to hold him back." When the man they had thus sent reached the top of the wall, he smiled and tried to jump over it, but they pulled him back. Still he smiled, and when the people eagerly asked, "What did you see there?", he did not answer, he only smiled. This is the condition of the seer. The man who in the shrine of his heart has seen the vision of God, the one who has the realization of truth, can only smile, for words can never really explain what truth means.
The nearest explanation one can give is that truth is realization. At every step of man's evolution his realization changes, but there is a stage where man arrives at the true realization, a realization which is a firm conviction that no reason or logic can change or alter. Nothing in the world can change it any more, and that conviction is called by the Sufis iman.
The realization which is attained is that there is nothing to realize any more. The process of this attainment is a sincere research into truth and life, and the understanding of "what I am, and what the other one is", together with the contemplation of God, a selfless consciousness, and a continual pursuit after the receiving of the knowledge of God.
Question: Is suffering beneficial?
Answer: Suffering is always a blessing. If it is for higher ideas, for God, for an ideal, it takes a person at once to the highest heaven. If it is for lower ideas, for the ego, for pride, for possessions, it takes a person to the lowest depth of hell. But there, after much suffering, after a long, long time, he loses these ideas and is purified. That is why the Christian religion shows the symbol of the cross, of suffering. How high our ideal may be, how low our ideal may be, in the end each pain has its prize.
8. Selflessness - Inkisar
Selflessness does not only beautify one's personality, giving grace to one's word and manner, but it also gives a dignity and a power, together with a spirit of independence which is the real sign of a sage. It is selfishness which often produces humiliation in one's spirit, taking away the intoxication which enriches the soul.
Independence and indifference, which are as the two wings which enable the soul to fly, spring from the spirit of selflessness. The moment the spirit of selflessness has begun to sparkle in the heart of man, he shows in his word and action a nobility which nothing earthly - neither power nor riches can give.
There are many ideas which intoxicate man, many feelings there are which act upon the soul as wine, but there is no stronger wine than the wine of selflessness. It is a might and it is a pride that no worldly rank can give. To become something is a limitation, whatever one may become. Even if a person were to be called the king of the world, he would still not be the emperor of the universe; if he were the master of the earth, he would still be the slave of Heaven. It is the person who is no one, who is no one and yet all.
The Sufi, therefore, takes the path of being nothing instead of being something. It is this feeling of nothingness which turns the human heart into an empty cup into which the wine of immortality is poured. It is this state of bliss which every truth-seeking soul yearns to attain. It is easy to be a learned person, and it is not very difficult to be wise; it is within one's reach to become good, and it is not an impossible achievement to be pious or spiritual. But if there is an attainment which is greater and higher than all these things, it is to be nothing. It may seem frightening to many, the idea of becoming nothing, for human nature is such that it is eager to hold on to something, and to what man holds on most is his own person, his individuality. Once he has risen above this, he has climbed Mount Everest, he has arrived at the spot where earth ends and heaven begins.
The whole aim of the Sufi is, by the thought of God, to cover his imperfect self even from his own eyes, and that moment when God is before him and not his own self is the moment of perfect bliss to him. My Murshid, Abu Hashim Madani, once said that there is only one virtue and one sin for a soul on this path: virtue when he is conscious of God, and sin when he is not. No explanation can fully describe the truth of this except the experience of the contemplative to whom, when he is conscious of God, it is as if a window facing heaven were open, and to whom, when he is conscious of the self, the experience is the opposite; for all the tragedy of life is caused by being conscious of the self. All pain and depression is caused by this, and anything that can take away the thought of the self helps to a certain extent to relieve man from pain, but God- consciousness gives perfect relief.
9. Indifference - Vairagya
The word vairagya comes from the Sanskrit and means indifference. By Sufis it is called fana, and it is shown in the cross, the symbol of the Christian religion.
This indifference comes to every being and is the first step to his annihilation, because not one atom can have its evolution without annihilation. The lower beings, the mineral, vegetable and animal, evolve towards the higher beings, and as man is the highest creation, there is nothing for him to evolve to. But this indifference, when it comes, opens a way for him to God from whom he came.
This indifference comes to the child when she realizes that her doll is not so interesting as she had thought and that it would be more interesting to play with other children who at least are alive. So first the child takes the doll and loves it. She carries it about and if the dolly's hand is hurt the child wants some remedy; a bed is needed to put the dolly in and a carriage is needed to take the dolly out. But when the nature of the doll is understood it is thrown away, and the child realizes that to play with children of her own age is better than to play with dolls which never speak.
So it is with us, the children of the world. Our likes and infatuations have a certain limit; when their time has expired the period of indifference commences. When the water of indifference is drunk, then there is no more wish for anything in the world. The nature of the water one drinks in this world is that one's thirst is quenched for a certain time, and then comes again. When the water of divine knowledge is drunk, then thirst never comes again.
This indifference comes when the nature of the world is understood; it is the higher knowledge. Then it is understood that all those objects to which one attached so much importance, which one strove to attain, to achieve, are not important. Before reaching that stage a person attaches too much importance to his joys, to his sorrows. If he is sad the whole world is full of sadness; if he is a little joyful the whole world is full of joy - as if the sun would rise and set according to his joy and sadness.
Indifference, however, must be reached after interest has taken its course; before that moment it is a fault. A person without an interest in life becomes exclusive, he becomes disagreeable. Indifference must come after all experience-
interest must end in indifference. Man must not take the endless path of interest: the taste of everything in the world becomes flat. Man must realize that all he seeks in the objects he runs after, that all beauty and strength, are in himself, and he must be content to feel them all in himself. This may be called the kiss of the cross: then man's only principle is love.
Vairagya means satisfaction, the feeling that no desire is to be satisfied any more, that nothing on earth is desired. This is a great moment, and then comes that which is the kingdom of God.
Why is God satisfied with the world whereas even man, when he reaches a certain grade of intelligence, is not satisfied? Or is God not satisfied? There are two sorts of dissatisfaction. The first is felt when a man has so much given in to the external self that the world can give him no more satisfaction. The other comes when the desire for more experience, for more enjoyment ceases. This is called Vairagya, this is indifference. Such a person is not unhappy, he is happier than others. He has only lost his intense interest in the world.
There is a story of a comedian who every day disguised himself in order to fool the king, the Badishah, at whose court he lived. But the king recognized him in all his disguises. The comedian then thought that he would disguise himself as an ascetic. He went to a cave in the mountains and lived there with two disciples, also comedians. He fasted for long periods thinking that in this way he disguised himself well. After forty days people, seeing his disciples, began to speak of the sage living in the cave of the mountain, They brought him presents: one hundred, two hundred dirhams. But he refused it all, saying, "Take it away. The sage does not want money or presents."
His fame spread more and more; the king heard of him and became anxious to see him. So he went to the cave, but for a long time the disciples would not let him enter. At last he was allowed to come into the presence of the "sage." The king said, "I have been kept waiting very long before I could see you." The "sage" replied, "The dogs of the world are not allowed to enter the house." The king was very much insulted. He thought, "This must be a very great person." He gave him a paper saying, "This is a parvaneh for the support of your disciples." A parvaneh means a grant of land, but the word has two meanings, it also means moth. The "sage" said, "If it is a parvaneh its place is in the fire", and he put the paper into the fire which was burning before him.
The king went away and the comedian got up thinking, "Now I must tell the king how well I have fooled him." Then a voice came, saying, "Your reigned indifference has brought the king before you. If it had been real indifference, We Ourselves would have come before you."
10. Independence and Indifference
Does happiness depend upon the conditions of life or upon our outlook on life? It is a question that is often asked, and is most difficult to answer. Many who have some philosophical knowledge will say that this material world is an illusion and its conditions a dream; yet there are very few who can make themselves believe it. To know a thing in theory is different from practicing it. It is most difficult in this world to rise above the effect that conditions produce. No doubt, there is only one thing that helps us to rise above conditions, and that is a change of outlook on life. This change is made practicable by a change of attitude.
In the language of the Hindus life in the world is called sansara. It is pictured as life in a mist; one thinks and says and does and feels, and yet one does not fully know why. If a person knows one reason for it, another reason is hidden behind it which he does not yet know. Very often conditions in life show a picture of captivity; often it seems as if one had to walk between water and a pit. To rise above conditions one needs wings: two wings attached to the soul, one independence, the other indifference - which not everyone has got. Independence needs a great deal of sacrifice before one can feel independent in life. Indifference is against one's nature of love and sympathy; it is like cutting one's heart asunder before one can practice indifference throughout life. No doubt once the soul is able to spread its wings, one sees the conditions of life as far removed; then one stands above all conditions that make man captive.
There is no difficulty which cannot be surmounted sooner or later. But even when a person has achieved something he desires in life, something else seems to be unfinished. So if he goes from one thing to another, achieving all he desires, the objects of his desire will multiply and there will never be an end to his desires. The more he has to do in life the more difficulties he must meet with. If he keeps away from the life of the world then his being here will be purposeless. The more important the task, the more difficult is its accomplishment. So evening follows every day, and this goes on till eternity.
For a Sufi, therefore, not only patience to bear all things is necessary, but to see all things from a certain point of view; that can relieve him for that moment from difficulty and pain. Very often it is his outlook which changes a person's whole life. It can turn hell into heaven, it can turn sorrow into joy. When a person looks from a certain point of view every little pin-prick feels like the point of a sword piercing his heart. If he looks at the same thing from a different point of view the heart becomes sting-proof, nothing can touch it. All things which are sent forth at that person as bullets drop down without having touched him.
What is the meaning of walking upon the water? Life is symbolized as water. There is one person who drowns in the water, there is another who swims in the water, but there is still another who walks upon it. The one who is so sensitive that, after one little pin-prick he is unhappy all through the day and night is the man of the first category. The one who takes and gives back and makes a game of life is the swimmer; he does not mind if he receives one knock, for he derives satisfaction from being able to give two knocks in return. But the one whom nothing can touch is in the world and yet is above the world. He is the one who walks upon the water; life is under his feet, both its joy and its sorrow.
Verily, independence and indifference are the two wings which enable the soul to fly.
11. Overlooking - Darquza
There is a tendency which manifests itself and grows in a person who is advancing spiritually, and that tendency is overlooking. At times this tendency might appear as negligence, but in reality negligence is not necessarily overlooking, negligence most often is not looking. Overlooking may be called in other words rising beyond things: one has to rise in order to overlook; the one who stands beneath life could not overlook, even if he wanted to. Overlooking is a manner of graciousness; it is looking and at the same time not looking; it is seeing and not taking notice of what is seen; it is being hurt or harmed or disturbed by something and yet not minding it. It is an attribute of nobleness of nature, it is the sign of souls who are tuned to a higher key.
One may ask: Is it practical? I may not be able to say that it is always practical, but I mean it all the same, for in the end the one who overlooks will also realize the practicality of it. Maybe he will realize it in the long run after he has met with a great many disadvantages of it. Nevertheless, all is well which ends well.
Very often overlooking costs less than taking notice of something that could well be overlooked. In life there are things which matter and there are things which do not matter. As one advances through life one finds there are many things that do not matter, and one could just as well overlook them. The one who, on a journey which takes all his life to accomplish, will take notice of everything that comes his way will waste his time. While climbing the mountain of life, the purpose of which is to reach the top, if a person troubles about everything that comes along, he will perhaps never be able to reach the top; he will always be troubling about things at the bottom. No soul, realizing that life on this earth is only four days long, will trouble about little things. He will trouble about things which really matter. In his strife with little things a person loses the opportunity of accomplishing great things in life. The one who troubles about small things is small, the soul who thinks of great things is great.
Overlooking is the first lesson of forgiveness. This tendency springs from love and sympathy; for of whom one hates one notices every little fault, but of whom one loves one naturally overlooks the faults, and very often one tries to turn the faults into merits. Life has endless things which suggest beauty, and numberless things which suggest ugliness. There is no end to the merits and no end to the faults, and according to one's evolution is one's outlook on life.
The higher a man has risen, the wider the horizon before his sight. It is the tendency to sympathize which brings the desire to overlook, and it is the analytical tendency which weighs and measures and takes good notice of everything. "Judge ye not", said Christ, "lest ye be judged." The more one thinks of this lesson, the deeper it goes into one's heart, and what one learns from it is to try and overlook all that does not fit in with one's own ideas as to how things ought to be in life, until one comes to a stage of realization where the whole of life becomes one sublime vision of the immanence of God.
12. Graciousness - Khulq
No sooner does the soul touch the inner kingdom, which is the divine kingdom, than the true nobility of the soul becomes manifest in the form of graciousness. Kings and those belonging to aristocratic families were trained in the manner of graciousness, but it is born in the heart of man. This means that every soul shows the aristocratic manner from the moment it touches the inner kingdom, and it shows that true aristocracy is the nobility of the soul: when the soul begins to express in every feeling, thought, word and action that graciousness which belongs to God Himself.
Graciousness is quite different from that wrong manner which is termed patronizing in English. The gracious one, before expressing that noble attitude, tries to hide himself even from his own eyes. The reason why the great ones, the truly noble people, are gracious is because they are more sensitive to all the hurt and harm that comes to them from those who are unripe. Therefore, out of their kindness, they try to keep themselves from doing the same to another, however unimportant his position.
There is a story of a dervish who was standing in the royal road at the moment when the procession of the king was passing. Happy in his rags as he was, he did not at all mind who was coming, and did not move an inch at the warnings of the pages who were running ahead of the procession, until they pushed him away. Yet he did not move far, he only said, "That is why." Then came the bodyguards on horseback. They did not push him, but they said, "Away, away, dervish! Do you not see the procession coming?" The dervish did not move an inch, but only answered, "That is why." Then followed the noblemen. They saw the dervish standing there. They did not like to tell him to move, they moved their own horses instead. The dervish seeing this said, "That is why." Then arrived the chariot of the king. His eyes fell on the dervish in his rags standing boldly in the middle of the road. Instead of waiting for his bow the king bowed himself, and the dervish said, "That is why." There was a young man standing by his side who could not understand the meaning of these words "That is why", spoken by the dervish whatever way he was treated. When he asked the dervish kindly to explain what was meant by these words, the answer was, "They explain all I mean."
There is a great truth in what Christ has said in the sermon on the mount, "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth." This will always prove true whatever be the time and whatever be the evolution of the world. Be it the time of aristocracy, be it the period of democracy, the value of that nobility of nature which is expressed in graciousness will always command its price. It is easy to know the word, but most difficult to practice graciousness through life, for there is no end to the thought that needs to be given to every action in life. It wants judgment and a fair sense of weighing and measuring all one does. Besides, it needs a fine sense of art and beauty, for in refining the personality one attains to the highest degree of art. Verily, the making of the personality is the highest art there is. The Sufi considers the cultivation of humane attributes, in which lies the fulfillment of the purpose of his life, as his religion.
A young man one day showed a little impatience towards his aged father, who could not hear very clearly and had asked him two, three times to tell him again what he had said. Seeing the disturbed expression on his face the father said, "My son, do you remember that there was a day when you were a little child, and asked me what was the name of a certain bird? I told you: a sparrow. You asked me perhaps fifty times, and I had the patience to repeat it again and again to you without being hurt or troubled about it; I was only pleased to tell you all I knew. Now when I cannot hear you clearly, you can at least have patience with me and, if I did not hear you the first time, explain it twice to me."
It seems that, in order to learn that noble manner of life, what is most needed is patience - sometimes in the form of endurance, sometimes in the form of consideration, and sometimes in the form of forgiveness.
13. Conciliation - Ittifaq
Any efforts made in developing the personality or in character-building must not be made for the sake of proving oneself superior to others, but in order to become more agreeable to those around one and to those with whom one comes in contact. Conciliation is not only the moral of the Sufi, but it is the sign of the Sufi.
This virtue is not always learned and practiced easily, for it needs not only good-will but wisdom. The great talent of the diplomat is to bring about by agreement such results as are desirable. Disagreement is easy; among the lower creation one sees it so often. What is difficult is agreement, for it wants a wider outlook, which is the true sign of spirituality. Narrowness of outlook makes the horizon of man's vision small, and he cannot easily agree with another. There is always a meeting-ground for two people, however much they differ in their thought, but the meeting-ground may be far off, and man is not always willing to take the trouble of going far enough - as far as required in order to come to an agreement. Very often his patience does not allow him to go far enough: to where he can meet the other. What generally happens is that everyone wants the other to meet him in the place where he stands, and there is no desire on his part to move from there.
This does not mean that in order to become a real Sufi a person must give up his ideas so as to meet others in agreement. There is no benefit in always being lenient with every thought that comes from another, and there is no. benefit in always erasing one's own idea from one's heart. That is not conciliation. The one who is able to listen to another is the one who will make another listen to him. It is the one who agrees easily with another who will have the power of making another agree easily with him. Therefore in doing so one gains in spite of the apparent loss which might sometimes occur. When a man is able to see from his own point of view as well as from the point of view of another, he has a complete vision and a clear insight: he so to speak sees with both eyes.
No doubt friction produces light, but light is the agreement of atoms. When one seeks stimulus to thought it does not matter so much if two people have their own ideas and argue about them, but when a person argues for the sake of argument, the argument becomes his game; he finds no satisfaction in conciliation. Words then provide the means of disagreement, reasons become fuel for that fire. Wisdom is there where the intelligence is pliable, when one understands all things: the wrong of the right, and the right of the wrong. The soul who arrives at the perfect knowledge has risen above right and wrong; he knows them and yet he does not know. He can say much, and yet - what can he say? Then it becomes easy for him to conciliate each and all.
There is a story that two Sufis met after many years, having travelled along their own lines. They were glad to meet each other after all those years of separation, for they were both mureeds of the same Murshid. One said to the other, "Tell me, please, your life's experience. After all this time of study and practice of Sufism I have learned one thing: how to conciliate others. I can do this very well now. Will you, please, tell me what you have learned?" The other one said, "After all this time of study and practice of Sufism I have learned how to master life. All that is here in this world is for me, and I am the master; all that happens, happens by my will." Then came the Murshid whose mureeds they were, and both spoke of their experiences during their journey. The Murshid said, "Both of you are right. In the case of the first one it was self-denial in the right sense of the word which enabled him to conciliate others. In the case of the other one nothing was left of his will any more. If there was any will, it was the will of God."
Question: You said the other day that self-denial in the right sense of the word is "I am not, Thou art." What is self-denial in the wrong sense of the word?
Answer: The right meaning is always one, wrong meanings are many. Among many wrong meanings the one which is most often understood is that self-denial is denying oneself the pleasures and happiness that the world can offer.
14. Consideration - Murawwat
Murawwat is a virtue most delicate to express in words. It is refraining from action out of respect for another, be it in consideration for his age, position, knowledge, goodness or piety. Those who practice this virtue do not necessarily have that respect only for someone who has a high position or who has much piety; when they develop this quality it manifests itself in their dealings with all people.
Murawwat is the contrary of what is called bluntness in English. It is not necessarily respect, it is something more delicate than respect: it is consideration and respect together. This virtue in its full development may even rise to such an extent that, out of consideration and respect, a person may try to sustain the lack of the same virtue in another. But when one arrives at this stage then ordinary manner ends and sage manner begins.
Man in this world is not born only to eat, drink and make merry. He is born to arrive at the fullness of humane character, and he realizes this by a greater thoughtfulness and consideration. If not, with power, position, wealth, learning, and all good things in the world, he remains poor without the riches of the soul which is good manner. All the beauty around man is something outside of him; the only beauty which is dependable is to be found and developed in his own character.
A person may show lack of murawwat, if not in words, in his glance. He does not need to speak in order to be rude; in his look, in his turns or twists, in his standing up or walking, in closing the door on leaving the room, he can show his feelings. If man does not speak he makes the door speak. It is not an easy matter to manage oneself when one's mind escapes one's hands. Plainly speaking, murawwat is acting with consideration and respect for another in a situation where a rude impulse is called out; it is controlling oneself, refraining from committing an insolence, out of respect for another.
Delicate ideas such as these are most difficult to learn and to practice in life. To-day many may wonder if they are not weaknesses. But nothing in the world can prove to be a weakness when it can only be practiced by mastering oneself. There is no loss if thought or consideration is given to someone who does not deserve it; for if such an action does not bring any profit, it is still practice - and it is practice which makes man perfect.
15. Tact
Tact is a thread which connects heaven and earth making them one. Tact, therefore, is not learned by worldly cleverness. Earthly qualifications do not make a man really tactful; he may imitate a tactful person, but polish is different from gentleness. Where does tact come from? Tact comes from the profound depth of the human heart, for it is a sense which is developed by human sympathy. A selfish person, therefore, cannot prove to be tactful to the end. He will perhaps begin by being tactful but will end in losing that spirit, because false tact will not endure. It is the real alone - object or person - that can endure.
Tactfulness comes from our consideration for one another, and that consideration comes from our feeling, our sympathy for one another. What is consideration? Consideration is feeling "all that is displeasing, distasteful, disagreeable to me - I must not cause it to another." From this sense tact develops as wisdom. A man may be most learned, most capable, most influential, and yet not be tactful. Tactfulness is the sign of the great ones; great statesmen, kings, leaders, heroes, the most learned men, the great servers of humanity were tactful. They won their enemies, their worst adversaries, by their tact; they accomplished the most difficult things in life by the power of tact.
One never can say, "I have enough tact." It is never enough. A real tactful person, having proved not to be tactful enough in his everyday life, finds more faults with himself than a tactless person. As one becomes more tactful so one finds more fault with oneself, because there are so many shortcomings: actions manifest themselves automatically, words slip off from the tongue, and then the tactful one thinks and sees that he did not do right. But as Saadi says, "Once it is done then you, thoughtful one, repent of it. This is not the time to repent, you ought to have controlled yourself first."
One becomes tactful through self-discipline, one develops tact by self-control. A tactful person is subtle, fine, poetic; he shows real learning and fine intelligence. Many say, "How can we be tactful and at the same time truthful?" Many look at the fineness of the tactful person saying, "Hypocritical!" But what is the use of that truth which is thrown at a person's head as a big stone, breaking his head. A truth which has no beauty - what kind of truth is it? The Quran says, "God is beautiful", therefore truth must be beautiful. If it were not beautiful then beauty-seeking souls and intelligent beings would not have sought after truth.
It is not always necessary to say things which could just as well have not been said. Very often it is weakness on the part of a person to drop a word which could have been avoided. It is the tactful soul who becomes large, because he does not always express himself outwardly. So his heart, accommodating wisdom, becomes larger; it becomes a reservoir of wisdom, of thoughtfulness. It is the tactful person who becomes popular, who is loved; it is the tactful person whom people listen to. Besides, it is by tact that we maintain the harmony of our lives. If not, life turns into a stormy sea. The influences coming from all around in our everyday life are enough to disturb the peace of our lives, and if we were tactless in addition to it what would then become of us? There would be one continual storm in our lives and there could never be peace. It is by tact that we make a balance against all inharmonious influences which have a jarring effect upon our spirit. When inharmony comes from all sides and we are creative of harmony, we counterbalance it, and this makes life easy for us to bear.
What is goodness, piety, or orthodoxy without wisdom, without tact? What will a good person accomplish by his goodness, if he is not able to give pleasure and happiness by what he says or does? Of what use his piety or spirituality will be, if he is not creative of happiness for those who come in contact with him? It is, therefore, with tact that we begin our work of healing ourselves and others.
The Sufis of all ages have been known for their beautiful personality. It does not mean that among them there have not been people with great powers, wonderful powers and wisdom. But beyond all that, what is most known of the Sufis is the human side of their nature: that tact which attuned them to wise and foolish, to poor and rich, to strong and weak to all. They met everyone on his own plane, they spoke to everyone in his own language. What did Jesus teach when he said to the fishermen, "Come hither, I will make you fishers of men"? It did not mean, "I will teach you ways by which you will get the best of man." It only meant: your tact, your sympathy will spread its arms before every soul who comes, as mother's arms spread out for her little ones.
The Sufis say, "Neither are we here to become angels", nor to live as the animals do. We are here to sympathize with one another and to bring to others the happiness which we always seek." Yes, there are many thorns on the path of life, but looking at ourselves we see the same faults, if not more, as those of others which prick like stings, like thorns. Therefore if we spare others the thorn that comes out of us, we will give that much help to our fellowmen - and that is no small help! It is by being tactful that we accomplish our sacred duty, that we perform our religion. For how do we please God? We please God by trying to please mankind.
16. Spirituality
Spirituality is natural nobleness, and the unfolding of this innate nobleness is spirituality. It is a divine heritage which is hidden in every soul, and by the manifestation of this divine heritage a soul shows its divine origin. All striving in the spiritual path is to bring out that nobleness - but one need not strive to bring it out; it will come by itself, if one is conscious of one's divine heritage.
It is this consciousness which brings out the nobleness of spirit. In the Sufi terminology this nobleness is called akhlaq Allah, which means the manner of God, a manner which is unlike any other manner known to the world. It is the manner of the mother towards her child, the manner of the father towards his son, the manner of a man towards his friend, the manner of the maiden towards her beloved, it is the manner of the lord towards his servant; it is the manner of the child towards his mother, the manner of a son towards his father, the manner of a slave towards his king - and yet it is above and beyond all manners known to mankind. It is humility, it is modesty, it is pride, it is honor, it is kindness, it is graciousness, it is indifference, it is independence; a manner inconceivable to human mentality, a manner which cannot be learned or taught, a manner which springs up by itself and comes forth as a divine blossom.
It is in this manner that lies the fulfillment of the purpose of man's life. This manner is the highest religion, the true spirituality, real aristocracy, and perfect democracy. All disputes and disagreements, all misunderstandings fall away the moment the human spirit has become noble, for it is the sign of the noble spirit to comprehend all things, to assimilate all things and therefore to tolerate and forgive all things. Of what use is a religion, a philosophy, a mysticism, or whatever you call it, if it does not produce that spirit in you, that inclination which is divine? And if that inclination and that spirit manifest themselves in anything, they show in divine manner. Neither in the graciousness of a king, nor in the subservience of a slave one will find that dignity and that humility which divine manner gives.
Is not man the seed of God? Is it then not his life's purpose to bring forth divine blossoms? It is not by working wonders that man shows his divine origin, nor is it by possessing extraordinary powers. If in anything divine origin is seen it is in the aristocracy of the human soul, it is in the democracy of the human ego. In the world we see that there is aristocracy and that there is democracy, but in spiritual unfoldment these two become one, culminating in real perfection.
A flower proves to be genuine by it fragrance, a jewel proves to be genuine by its radiance, a fruit proves to be genuine by its sweetness, a soul proves to be genuine by its manner. Therefore manner is not to be disregarded. This is something to take notice of first. All studies, practices, silences and meditations aside, this is the main thing: to express God in all one does, especially in the manner one shows towards another.
17. Innocence
Innocence is so much idealized that a person may ask whether intellect is not a thing to be avoided. The world has advanced very much in intellect: how to get all for oneself, how to get the best of another diplomatically, how to get the best of another politically, how to get the best of another politely and with charming manners, is thought wisdom. This is not wisdom, it is intellect.
If a person has not developed his intellect, the world will take the best of him and he will not realize it. The Sufi should develop his intellect - not in order to use it in the same way as an intellectual person would use it, but in order to see the world as it is. On all sides you will see the selfishness of the world, and the more you develop spiritually, the more you will see it. Sometimes one may wonder whether there are not only animals in the world and no human beings at all. Sometimes one may wonder whether this is not a world of devils. Everywhere one voice is heard, "I want to eat you! I want to take you!" And you cannot go away, go out of the world. You cannot run away to the mountains and jungles. There are very few wise men in the world, and very many intellectual persons.
Another thing is that you may not be innocent as the child is innocent. The child, if it has a diamond brooch and a thief wants to take it, will give it and not know what it is giving. You should be like the king in a story which tells that a king was sitting in his room in which were carved chairs, made like tigers" heads. The eyes of the tigers were diamonds and very beautiful. The king went to sleep. When he awoke, he saw that a thief had come into the room and was stealing the eyes of the tigers. The thief said, "Hush! Don't tell anyone I am stealing the diamonds." The king was much amused at his boldness and confidence, saying this to the king from whom he was stealing. So, knowing that he was a thief, he let him take the diamonds.
You should not do a kindness to an undeserving person, thinking that he deserves your kindness, for the next day you will discover that he does not deserve it, and you will repent. You should do a kindness to a person knowing that he does not deserve it. Then your kindness is very great and there is no repentance.
The way of attaining spiritual knowledge is quite opposite to the way by which one attains worldly knowledge. As the sky is in the direction opposite to the earth, so the source of knowledge of spiritual things is opposite to the knowledge of the world. As a man becomes intellectual he knows things of the world, but this does not mean that he becomes spiritual. He goes, on the contrary, further away from spirituality through the thought, "I understand worldly things."
What is the best way of attaining spiritual knowledge? First one must develop in one's nature that little spark which is divine and which was shining in one's infancy, showing something pure, something of heaven. What attracts us most is innocence. It is innocence which gives an impression of purity, but we must not understand this wrongly. Knowledge of the world is more than necessary; it is needed to live in the world, to make the best of our life, to serve God and humanity - it is not needed to attain spiritual knowledge: innocence is necessary for that.
When one sees among one's friends, one's relatives, something which attracts one most it is perhaps the side of their nature which is innocence. People forgive those who are dear to them, they tolerate their faults. They say, "He is wrong, but he is innocent." There is a purity which is divine and which attracts everyone. Innocence is like a spring of water purifying all that is foreign to heart and soul.
How can we attain innocence? Innocence is not foreign to our nature; we have all been innocent, and by being conscious of that nature we develop it. By admiring, by appreciating that nature we develop it too, for all things which we admire become impressions. Those who have a bad nature but have collected good impressions will in time turn their nature.
During my travels in India, the purpose of which was to pay homage to the sages of that land, what appealed most to me was that the greater the soul, the greater was his innocence. It is innocence one sees in them, not simplicity. The one who is simple does not understand. We see this in everyday life: he closes his eyes. Innocence is to understand and to rise above things. Every person sees another through his own glasses. Prejudice often stands between them; for insight unity is necessary. When innocence is developed one has attained spirituality. A man becomes wise after having been intellectual, when he rises above the intellect. Then he sees cause behind cause and understands the way of his enemy.
Would it be practical to live altogether according to the principle of innocence? A principle is to be used, not to guide our life. When people make a chain out of principles, it becomes captivity. Life is freedom. One cannot force oneself to innocence. But if there is any sign of piety or spirituality, there is no better sign than innocence together with all understanding.
18. Holiness
Often one wonders what the word holy means. Sometimes people understand by it spiritual, pious, good, pure, religious. But none of these words can fully explain the meaning of the word holy. Holy is the next degree to pious. God-realizing is pious, self-realizing is holy. The first step to self-realization is God-realization; it is not by self-realization that man realizes God, it is by God-realization that man realizes self.
Holiness is a spark of divinity in man, and no soul must be considered as being deprived of this spark of divinity. This spark is light itself, which also exists in the form of life in the lower creation among animals and birds, in trees and in plants. In man this light has the opportunity to blaze into a flame, but at first this light is buried in the heart of man. From the moment this spark of divinity begins to sparkle from his heart, a man shows the sign of holiness. Therefore holiness is no human heritage, it is inherited by every soul from God. It manifests itself only when the heart is open and when out of that spark, which is divine in man, there rises a tongue of flame which illuminates the path of man in life's journey towards the spiritual goal.
It is lack of understanding of this subject which has made man accept one teacher in whom he, or his friends or ancestors, recognized divinity, and reject another with all his holiness. Holiness does not belong to a particular race, community, or family. It comes naturally in the life of some; in the life of others it requires digging. The fire is there, but it is buried, it wants to be brought to the surface, and sometimes blowing is needed to help the flame to rise.
Is holiness seen in action? Yes, it can be seen in action, but who can judge the action? When it is difficult for a wise man to judge the action of the worst sinner, who with any sense would be ready to judge a holy man? Can holiness be recognized in goodness? Yes, it is possible, and yet no one can fix a standard of goodness, for what is good for one is bad for another; something which is poison for one is a remedy for another, and the goodness of every person is peculiar to himself. The worst person in the world, if he wants to, can accuse the best person of lack of goodness. No man has ever proved, nor will any man ever prove, to be good to the satisfaction of every soul that demands goodness.
Holiness in itself is goodness, even if it is not in accordance with people's standard of goodness. Holiness is a continually rising fountain of light, it is a phenomenon in itself; it is illumination and illuminating. Light has no other proof than itself. Holiness needs no claim, no pleading, no publicity; it is its own claim, it pleads for itself. Light itself is its own publicity.
Many in this world seem to be confused about false and true, but there comes a moment when one can see the difference between false and true without any difficulty, because false cannot stand longer than a moment all the tests that come from all sides. It is the real gold that stands all tests - so it is with true holiness. Holiness is enduring, knowing, forgiving, understanding, and yet it stands beyond all things, above all things. It is unbreakable, unshakable; it is beauty, it is power, and it is divinity when it reaches its perfection.
19. Resist not Evil
One often wonders at this saying in the Bible, and it is not always given the right interpretation. To interpret it the first thing is to explain what evil means. Is there any particular action, is there any particular thing that one can point out as being evil? No doubt man is always apt to point out a certain action as evil, but nothing can be evil according to a fixed principle. What then is evil? It is something which is void of harmony, which lacks beauty, something from which love is missing. Beyond and above all, it is something which does not fit into the accommodation of life. What fits into the accommodation that life offers cannot be evil; it is the characteristic of evil that it does not fit into it.
Evil may be likened to fire. The nature of fire is to destroy everything that comes into its fold. The power of evil is as great as the power of fire, and at the same time evil is as weak as fire, for fire does not endure, and so evil does not last. As fire destroys itself, so evil is its own destruction. Why is it said, "Do not resist evil"? Because resistance gives life to evil, non-resistance lets it burn itself out.
In the form of anger, passion, greed, or stubbornness one sees evil, and also in the form of deceit and treachery. But the root of evil is one, and that is selfishness. In one person's heart the evil is perhaps manifest on the surface, in another person it is in the depth.
There is a saying in the East, "Do not invoke the name of Satan or he will rise from his grave." An inconsiderate or tactless person always falls into the error of awakening this evil even if it is asleep, for he does not know the music of life. In order to live in the world one should become a musician of life. Every person therein is a note, and the one who feels this way has an instrument before him: the whole world is an instrument upon which a symphony is to be played.
Even in small things one can observe the same law. Very often the great trouble that one has in life is not due to the difficulty of others, but to a lack of comprehension of human nature. If one knew human nature, not to resist evil would be the first and the last lesson to learn, for resistance becomes fuel to its fire. If one tells someone, "Do not do this", if one asks someone, "Why did you do it?", if one says to someone, "You have done such and such a thing", by all these words one only makes evil stronger; one makes the person firmer in his fault.
Everyone in this world can be a teacher - but not a real teacher. A real teacher is the one who always teaches himself, and the more he teaches himself, the more he finds that there is so much to be taught. This self has so many lacks that a whole lifetime is not enough to teach it. The more the self learns, the more it overlooks the evil in others. It does not mean that the evil is in others; it only means that one finds in oneself the enemy which one was seeing outwardly. And the worst enemy one was faced with in outer life one finds to be in one's own heart. It makes one feel humiliated, but it teaches the true lesson: one finds oneself having the same element which one wishes to resist in another.
Life is a place where gentle movement is necessary. In thought, speech or action, in everything the rhythm must be controlled; the law of harmony should be observed in all that one does. One should know that, when walking barefoot on thorns, even they will not allow one to be free from accusation: the thorns will accuse one of having trampled upon them. If the delicacy of living in this world is to that extent, can anyone say, "I have gained sufficient wisdom", or can anyone say, "I can afford to live in this world without giving a thought to this problem?"
The problem of evil is great. Many cannot tolerate to hear the name of evil, but they are faced with it every moment of their lives and therefore to leave this problem unsolved does not help. Besides this, everyone is ready to judge, to observe, or to take notice of the evil in another, not knowing that sometimes the surface of a thing is quite different from its depth. Maybe what seems evil has something good inside it, or what is good in appearance may have a spark of evil inside. By what standard can we determine evil and good, and who can judge the evil and good of any man? If one can judge something it is one's own evil and good. No one except God has the power to judge another. The sense of justice that is given to man is for judging his own actions, and if he judges himself he uses this sense best, because it is for this purpose that the sense of justice has been given to him.
When we look at life through a telescope, we shall find that it is nothing but a struggle for living, individually and collectively and it appears that, if there is anything worthwhile in this life, it is what is besides this struggle: giving and taking kindness and love, doing any action of unselfishness. However qualified a person in the things of the world, his qualification reaches a certain extent and does not go beyond. The whole qualification required is the understanding of life, the understanding of the law which is working behind it. It is this qualification alone which will diminish man's continual struggle in life. It will diminish his struggle in this way that it will give him less to resist. It will make him more tolerant of the natural condition of human beings. As soon as one realizes that one cannot expect from anyone something of which he is not capable, one becomes tolerant.
The difficulty is that everyone demands more of another person in the way of thought and consideration, of kindness and love, than he does of himself. Man wants more justice and fairness on the part of another than he is himself prepared to give; and his standard may be so high that another person cannot keep up to it, which in turn makes him disappointed. What generally happens is that one does not just remain quiet after being disappointed but one resists, and so the struggle of life continues. One should not expect the pear-tree to bear roses, nor the rose-bush to produce jasmine. Every person is like a certain plant, but not the same plant. We may be fond of roses, but every plant does not bear roses; if we want roses we should seek only the plant on which roses grow, and we must not be disappointed if what we find is not the rose plant. In this way we can correct our own deception.
When people say that someone is bad it really means that the surface has become bad. The depth cannot be bad, however bad a person may seem. For goodness is life itselF, and a person who would be all bad could not live. The very fact that he is living shows that there is a spark of goodness in him. Besides just as there are various objects so there are various persons; some show softness inside; some are very good in the depth and evil on the surface; and some are evil on the surface and good in the depth, for there are as many different varieties as there are souls.
What education, what point of view, what attitude in life is the best and will give the greatest happiness? It is the attitude of overlooking evil instead of resisting it. There are three ways of living one's life, which can be compared with struggling in the sea whose waves are rising and falling all the time. The first will struggle as long as life will permit; but the rising and falling of the waves in the sea continue for ever and ever, and in the end he will be drowned. And so it is with man. He struggles along, intoxicated by his struggle. How long will it go on? As long as his energy will permit it, and in the end he will be drowned. In this struggle he may seem powerful, he may seem to have overcome others, he may seem to have done things greater than others - but what is it after all? In the end that person is drowned.
There is another man who knows how to move his arms harmoniously in the water, and who has got the rhythm of moving his arms and legs. He swims with the rising and failing of the waves, he is not struggling. This man has a hope of arriving at the port, if only the port is near. If his ideal is not too far off, then he is the one to accomplish it.
The third person is the one who walks above and over the water. It is this which is the meaning of Christ's walking upon the sea. Life is just like waves, it is making its way continually. The one who allows himself to be disturbed by it will be more and more disturbed every day. The one who does not take notice of it will keep the quietness which is his own within himself. The one who sees all things and yet rises above things is the one who will walk upon the sea.
No one can reach the highest summit of life, the summit of wisdom, in a moment's time; even a lifetime is too short. Yet hope is necessary. The one who hopes and sees the possibilities walks towards the summit. The one who has no hope has no legs to mount on this hill of wisdom, the summit of which is the desired goal.
Question: How can anyone at the head of a business or institution possibly keep to the rule of not resisting evil?
Answer: I have seen people at the head of certain factories who had won the heart of every worker, and another head of a factory whom every worker was speaking against. It may be that the latter made a greater profit than the former, but in the end he would find the profit of the former more durable than his own.
The manner of wisdom and tenderness cannot be made into principles to which people should be restricted. A brush cannot take the place of a knife, and therefore everyone has to use every manner and action according to the situation. Nevertheless, the thought of not resisting evil should always be at the back of it.
Question: How can one manage a person who is really bad?
Answer: If a person is "really bad" it means that the whole surface has become bad, but still the depth cannot be bad. However bad a person the depth cannot be bad, for goodness is life itself, and a person who is all bad cannot live. The very fact that he is alive shows that there is a spark of goodness. Besides, just as there are various objects, so there are various persons. Some show softness outside, hardness inside; some show hardness outside and softness inside. Some have good in the depth and evil on the surface, and some have evil in the depth and good on the surface, because as many souls there are, so many are the varieties.
Question: Is there a system to take away evil?
Answer: That system is understanding life more and more; it is keeping the love element alive, trying to keep an harmonious attitude as much as possible, and then keeping beauty before oneself.
It is difficult, but it is possible when we have the spirit never to be really grown-up, never to close our heart to learning, always to be ready, whatever be our age, to accept what is harmonious and beautiful. When one thinks, "What I think is right", and one finds arguments and reasons to make it right, and when one thinks, "What the other person thinks is wrong", and one finds reasons to make it wrong, one will always remain in the same place. But when one is ready to accept, even from a child, that something one says may be wrong, one thinks, "Even though it is a child who said it, it is a profit for me to accept it." God has not spoken only through His prophets, He speaks through every person, if we open our hearts to listen. The difficulty is that we become teachers. If throughout our whole life we remain pupils teaching will come all the time from within and without. As soon as we become teachers we close our hearts from Him who alone is our Teacher.
Question: If we want to be kind to a person, how can we prevent him from abusing our kindness?
Answer: Our part is to be kind; that person's part is to use it tightly. It is not our part to see that the other person makes the right use of our kindness. If we think about that we shall forget our part.
Question: How can we help a person who does not understand our kindness and is doing harm?
Answer: Love is a conqueror, and in the end will conquer. It is not only the person outside whom love will conquer, but it will conquer the self of the one who loves. This is the conquering of the kingdom of God. The power of love is penetrating, nothing can resist it in the end, and by giving kindness we have not lost anything. It is an element which is never lessened, it is a treasure which is divine. When we consider whether a person is worthy or unworthy we limit our love to a channel, but when we allow that feeling of kindness to flow it will develop into a continually flowing condition. Then kindness will work out its destiny without any intention on our part.
20. Resignation
Resignation is the outcome of the soul's evolution, for it is the result of either love or wisdom.
Man has a free will, but its power is too small in comparison with the all-powerful will of God which stands before him in the form of more powerful individuals, or of conditions which cannot be helped, or in that of many other things.
Resignation does not mean giving things up, resignation means being content to give up.
To be resigned means to find satisfaction in self-denial. That self-denial cannot be a virtue which comes as a result of helplessness and culminates in dissatisfaction. The nature of an unevolved ego is to resent everything that comes up in life as a hindrance on his path to the accomplishment of a certain object. When one accepts to become resigned in the face of a difficulty, and when at the same time this gives satisfaction, the resigned person, even without having accomplished his object, has risen.
In this way even a defeat of a truly resigned soul, in truth, is success.
Resignation is a quality of saintly souls. It is bitter in taste, but sweet in result.
Whatever be the power and position of a person, he always has to meet with a more powerful will, in whatever form it may manifest itself, which in truth is divine will. By standing against the divine will one may break oneself, but by being resigned to the divine will one makes a way. For resignation is the manner of water: if anything is standing in its way it takes another course and runs along. It yet makes its way so as to meet the ocean in the end. Such is the way of the saintly souls who tread the path of resignation and yet keep self-will alive. That will has the power to make its way. A person who is resigned by nature becomes in the end a consolation to the self and a happiness for others.
Resignation is not necessarily weakness, or laziness, or cowardice, or lack of enthusiasm. Resignation is only the expression of mastery over oneself. The tendency to resign to the will of another or to conditions does not always work to the disadvantage of the resigned one. It may sometimes prove to be profitless, but the benefit of such a virtue is realized in the end.
It is lack of power of endurance which is the cause that souls are not ready to resign; they cannot endure their pain, they cannot sustain their loss. The resigned ones practice resignation even in small things of everyday life; they avoid using the power of their will unnecessarily in every little thing they do.
Resignation is passivity, and it shows itself sometimes to be disadvantageous in the life of an active person who has an object before him to accomplish. But it may be understood that a continual activity, with power and energy given to it, very often results in disaster. Every activity is balanced by passivity.
One must be active when it is time to be active, and passive when the conditions ask one to be passive. It is in this manner that success in life is attained and that happiness, which is the seeking of every soul, is gained.
The truth of this can be seen in the life of the child and that of the grown-up person. As soon as the child becomes attracted to objects, it knows that it wants them, and if it is denied an object the child is dissatisfied. As the child grows, with its evolution in life, it learns resignation. That is the difference between an unripe soul and a soul advanced in the path of wisdom; for the riper the soul the more it shows in its nature the power of resignation.
Question: When should we be active and when passive?
Answer: Suppose a person goes on a bicycle in the streets of Paris and says, "I shall go straight on, because my object is just to keep the line I have taken. If a motor-car comes my way, I shall not mind it, I shall just go on." This person will come against something which is more powerful than he and he will destroy himself. The wise cyclist, therefore, will see that there is a vehicle before him, or that the road is blocked: he will take another way. At the time it is just a little hindrance, yet that resignation makes him safe from disaster and gives him a chance to strike another line by which he will come to the same destination.
Very often people who are strong-headed will not be resigned, and often they will find in their lives that, by not being resigned, they get what they want. That gives them proof of the beneficial nature of their strong-headedness which means their lack of resignation. But what happens in the end? Their own power sometimes strikes them so hard that it breaks them to pieces, because there is no passivity. Man after all is limited, and there is an unlimited power before him. If he always wishes to fight, he must of necessity break himself. There is the saying: Man proposes, God disposes. If man is conscious of this, he will know when to try and make his way, and when to strike a different way.
Question: In the Bible it is said: If a person wants you to go one mile with him, go two miles.
Answer: Resignation is self-denial. In our everyday life it may happen many times that we meet with people who say something which hurts our feeling, and we wish to answer back. It is a natural tendency which expresses itself spontaneously. However, if at that time our wisdom is awakened, we ask ourselves, "Is it necessary to answer? And if we did not answer?" That is becoming resigned to the will of God. Spontaneity is just giving the answer, but when kindness comes, or the feeling that perhaps the other person did not understand us, or that he had a little more experience than we, it restrains the tendency to speak back, and this is mastery. It is bitter for the time, it shakes one: that force which wanted to express itself is controlled. But by being able to sustain it, one has gained a certain mastery over oneself.
Question: In your example one just stops for a moment, but mostly in life this resignation means going quite another way.
Answer: Both are possible. By resignation is only meant to be resigned to one's own wisdom, to one's own feeling of kindness and dignity, or to be resigned to the person whose will perhaps is better or greater. Question: There are natures who develop the contrary to resignation.
Answer: Very often we give unnecessary strain to our will and this exhausts us very much. It is consideration which is wanted. Every day there are many cases of this which we can avoid by not using so much will-power to resist them.
21. Struggle and Resignation
There are two distinct paths through which one attains the spiritual goal, and they are quite contrary to one another: one is the path of resignation, the other the path of struggle. No doubt in the path of struggle there is also resignation, and in the path of resignation there is also struggle. But the one who is treading the path of resignation has only one thought: to be resigned; as to the one who strikes the path of struggle, his main object is to struggle.
These two paths are illustrated in a symbolical way by the words of Christ, "Take your sword and sheathe it." The taking of the sword means struggle, the covering of it is resignation. The necessity of these two paths is so great that it is not possible that one of them is ignored and only one of them is accepted. People often think that Sufism means pacifism, but it is not "passivism", it is activity and "passivism" both. It is the knowledge of the secret of man's life on earth, of what he needs for his character, for his condition.
When we reflect upon these principles, we find that there are things in life to which we can only be resigned. It is easy to be resigned to things one cannot help, but if one has the power to struggle it is difficult to be resigned. A person who is resigned in easy conditions, not finding it difficult, does not know resignation. For instance there is a person whose poor relations want a part of his capital, because they are in great need, but in spite of all their need he cannot be resigned to let them have that part. Then during the night robbers break into his house and go away with his fortune, and the next day this person resigns himself to it. This resignation is no virtue. To resign means that one has the power to manage, and yet resigns.
All the great ones have seen the value of resignation, and have taught it. Christ said that if someone wants you to walk a certain distance with him, [you should] walk with him a longer distance. What does it teach? Resignation. One might think that resignation is unpractical, that this selfish world will take the best of one. Yes, it is true, but the loss is much less when compared to the gain - if only the heart can sustain the loss. If one is not contented with what has been done, it is better not to resign. For instance, an acquaintance comes to your house and asks to take your umbrella, and you say "yes." Then comes the time when you want to go out yourself. It is raining and your umbrella is taken. Now you grumble about that acquaintance, "How stupid of him, how could he have the boldness to ask for my only umbrella!" That resignation was no good; it bears no fruit. That is only virtue of resignation when you went out in the rain, yet you were satisfied, because the other person was safe from it. Only then would resignation be a virtue.
One who is really resigned does not show it. Resignation is not an easy thing. How many people in this world try to learn wonderful spiritual things, but this simple thing, resignation, is miraculous; for this virtue is not only beautiful, it is a miracle. There are little things in which we do not see resignation, and where yet it is. Those around us may ask us to do something that does not please us; those around us perhaps say something that we do not wish to take silently, we wish to talk back; then, in everyday life, there are the little pin-pricks from those around us. If we are not resigned, we shall feel excited every moment. To be resigned, therefore, is not weakness, it is a great strength.
When one goes further one finds that one can be resigned even to cold and heat, to places congenial and uncongenial; one finds that all has a meaning, a benefit. Even if one had not formed a habit of being resigned, one could just as well resign oneself, for not having resigned oneself to an experience is the loss of an occasion.
There are two forces working: the individual power and the collective power. In Sufi terms the former is called qadr, the latter qadha. Often the individual power will not surrender, but if it does not do so it is crushed. For instance someone is called to arms in his country, but says he will not join the army. In spite of all the beauty of his ideal he is helpless before the might of the whole nation. Here he must resign to the condition in which there is a conflict between a lesser and a greater power; here resignation is the only solution.
No doubt everything must be understood rightly. Resignation preached foolishly is of no benefit. There was a mureed who learned from a Murshid the lesson of resignation, and thinking on this subject the simple mureed was walking in the middle of a road, when a mad elephant came from the other side. As he was walking in the thought of resignation he stayed in the middle of the road. A wise man told him to go out of the way, but he would not do so, because he was resigned to the elephant, until he was pushed away by its strength. They brought him to his Murshid who asked him how he came to be hurt so much. He answered that he was practicing resignation. The Murshid said, "Was there not somebody who told you to go away?" "Yes", he answered, "but I would not listen." "But", said the Murshid, "why did you not resign yourself to that person?" Often beautiful principles can be practiced to the greatest disadvantage. Nevertheless, resignation has proved to be the path of saints, because it develops patience in man. And what is patience? It is all the treasure there is. Nothing is more valuable, nothing is a greater bliss than patience.
There is a story about a prophet who was very ill. He suffered many years, and through his suffering his insight became dearer. His suffering was so great that those around him became tired of it and so, in order to relieve them from seeing his pain, he had to seek refuge with God in the forest. As his sight was keen and the ears of his heart were open, he heard from the trees, "I am the medicine of your disease." The prophet asked, "Has the time of my cure come?" A voice came answering, "No." So he said, "Why shall I take you then?" Another time he had this experience again; he heard, "I am the medicine of your disease", and asked, "Has the time of my cure come?" The answer came, "Yes." The prophet said, "Why shall I take you then?"
When we think of this extreme ideal we may ask: is it not unpractical, especially at this time where there are so many treatments, so many mechanical means? But a thoughtful person will see how many people have mined their lives by going from one treatment to another, lacking the patience and resignation in which resides their absolute cure. The remedy is not always the answer to the difficulty; often patience is the answer. It seems as if man becomes more and more impatient every day owing to his superficial life; there is hardly any resignation to little things. Yet it is better to resign than to struggle.
When we throw a mystic light upon this subject we find that we form a harmonious connection with the Infinite by being resigned. How to learn it? Should we learn it by being resigned to God? No, that is a still greater lesson to learn. The first thing to learn is to be resigned to the little difficulties in life. What does this mean? It means not to strike out at everything that comes in our way. If one were able to manage this, one would not need to cultivate great power; then one's presence would be healing. Such a person is in the world more precious than a branch of the rose, which may have many thorns and hardly one flower.
Question: How to attain peace when our life is often so difficult?
Answer: No doubt, life is difficult for many of us, but very often we make it even more difficult for ourselves. When we do not understand the real nature and character of life we make our own difficulties. I can assure you that in every man's life five percent of his difficulties are brought about by the conditions of life, and ninety-five percent are difficulties caused by himself.
Now you will ask: When the difficulties come from ourselves, where do they come from? We do not like struggle in life, we do not like strife, we only want harmony, we only want peace. It must be understood, however, that before making peace war is necessary, and that war must be made with our self. Our worst enemy is our self: our faults, our weaknesses, our limitations. And our mind is such a traitor! What does it? It covers our faults even from our own eyes, and points out to us the reason for all our difficulties: others! So it constantly deludes us keeping us unaware of the real enemy, and pushes us towards those others to fight them, showing them to us as our enemies.
Besides this, we must tune ourselves to God. As high we rise so high becomes our point of view, and as high our point of view so wide becomes the horizon of our sight. When a person evolves higher and higher his point of view becomes wider and wider, and so in all he does he strikes the divine note, the note which is healing and comforting and peace-giving to all souls.
22. Renunciation
Renunciation is in fact denial of the self, and it is that denial which will be of use. As all things in this world can be used and abused, so the principle of renunciation can be used and abused. If renunciation as a principle were a good thing, there would seem to be no purpose at the back of the whole creation. The creation might well not have been manifested if renunciation had been the principle. Therefore renunciation in itself is neither virtue nor sin. It becomes a virtue or a sin according to the use one makes of it.
When one considers renunciation from the metaphysical point of view, one finds that this principle is used as a staircase by which to rise above all things. It is the nature of life in the world that all things we become attracted to in time become not only ties but burdens. If one considers life, one sees that it is an eternal journey. The more one is loaded with burdens on one's shoulders, the heavier the journey becomes. Think how the soul, whose constant desire it is to go forward, is daily retained by ties and continually more burdened. One can see two things: as the soul goes on it finds chains on its legs. It wants to go forward - and at every step it is more attracted; so it becomes more difficult to go forward.
Therefore all the thinkers and the wise who have come to the realization of life have taken renunciation as a remedy. The picture that the sage makes of this life is the fable of the dog and the piece of bread. A dog carrying a loaf in its mouth came to a pool; it saw the reflection of the bread in the water, and thought that there was another dog. It howled and barked, and lost its bread. The more we see our errors in life, our petty desires, the more we find that we are not far from the fable of the dog. Think of the national catastrophes of recent times. How these material things of the world, ever changing and not everlasting, have been pulled at and fought for! It shows that man, blinded by material life, disregards the secret, hidden things behind that life.
When one comes to reason out what one should renounce and in what way one should practice renunciation, there is a lesson to be learned: no virtue is a virtue if it is forced upon the one who is incapable of it. A person upon whom a virtue is forced, who is forced to renounce, cannot make the right renunciation. No virtue which gives pain is a virtue. If it gives pain, how can it be a virtue? It is called virtue because it gives happiness; that which takes away happiness can never be a virtue. Therefore renunciation is rightly practiced by those who understand renunciation, and are capable of practicing it.
For instance, there is a person who has only one loaf of bread. He is traveling in a train and finds somebody who is hungry and in need of his bread. He himself is hungry too, and he has only one piece of bread. If he thinks that it is his dharma to give and starve, and is unhappy about it, he would do better not to give it, because it is no virtue. If he did it once, the next time he would surely not do it again because he suffered by it. As the virtue brought him unhappiness, this virtue will never develop in his character. That person alone is capable of renunciation who finds a greater satisfaction in seeing another with his piece of bread.
The person whose heart is full of happiness after his action, that person alone should make a renunciation. This shows that renunciation is not a thing that can be learned or taught; it comes by itself as the soul develops, when the soul begins to see the true value of things. All that is valuable to others a seer-soul begins to see otherwise. This shows that the value of all things, which one sees as precious or not precious, is according to the way one looks at them. For one person the renunciation of a penny is too much, for another the renunciation of all he has is nothing. It depends on how one looks at things.
One rises above all things that one renounces in life. Man is a slave of the thing which he has not renounced; of the things that he has renounced he becomes king. This whole world can become a kingdom in his hand, if a person has renounced it. But renunciation depends upon the evolution of the soul.
One who has not evolved spiritually cannot well renounce. For the grown-up person little toys, so valuable to children, are nothing; it is easy to renounce them. So it is for those who develop spiritually: all things are easy to renounce.
Now rises the question: how can one progress in this path of renunciation? By becoming able to discriminate between two things, and to find out which is the better one. A person with the character of the dog in the fable cannot renounce: he loses both things. Life is such that, when there are two things before one's view, it demands the loss of one of them. It depends upon man's discrimination what to renounce and for what; whether to renounce heaven for the world, or the world for heaven; wealth for honor, or honor for wealth; whether to renounce things momentarily precious for everlasting things, or everlasting things for things momentarily precious.
The nature of life is such that it always shows two things, and many times it is a great puzzle to choose between them. Very often one thing is at hand and the other further from one's reach, and it is a puzzle which one to renounce, or how to get the other. Very often man lacks the will-power to renounce. It not only requires discrimination between two things but also will-power to do what one wishes to do. It is not an easy thing for a man to do in life as he wishes. Many times he cannot renounce because his own self cannot listen to him. Think how difficult life is; when we ourselves cannot listen to ourselves, how difficult then for others to listen to us!
Renunciation can be learned naturally. One must first train one's sense of discrimination, and discriminate between what is more valuable and what is less valuable. One can learn this by testing, as gold is put to the test by comparing it to imitation gold: that which lasts for a little time and then turns black is imitation, that which always keeps its color is real. This shows that the value of things can be recognized by their constancy. One might ask: should we not recognize the value of things by their beauty, but we must recognize beauty by its durability. Think of the difference in the price of a flower and a diamond. The flower with all its fineness, beauty of color and fragrance falls short in comparison with the diamond. The only reason is that the beauty of the flower will fade the next day, while that of the diamond will last.
This shows our natural tendency; we need not learn it. We are always seeking for beauty and also for that which is lasting. Friendship that does not last, however beautiful it may be, what value has it? Position, honor that do not last, what value have they? Although man is like a child, running after all that attracts him and which is always changing, still his soul seeks constancy. In learning the lesson of renunciation one can only study one's own nature, what the innermost being is yearning for, and try to follow one's own innermost being. Wisdom comes by this process of renunciation. Wisdom and renunciation go together: by renunciation man becomes wiser, by being wise he becomes capable of renunciation.
The whole trouble in the lives of people, in their houses, in the nation and everywhere, is always their incapacity of renunciation. If civilization can be explained, it is only a developed sense of renunciation which manifests itself in consideration for each other. Every act of courtesy, of politeness shows renunciation. When a person offers his seat to another, or when he offers something that is good, it is renunciation. Civilization in its real sense is renunciation.
The highest and greatest goal that every soul has to reach is God. As everything wants renunciation, that highest goal wants the highest renunciation. But a forced renunciation - even for God - is not proper, not legitimate. Proper renunciation one can see in those who are capable of doing it. There is a story in the Bible of Abraham sacrificing his son. Man to-day is likely to laugh at some of the ancient stories, reasoning according to his own point of view. But think how many fathers and mothers have given their children as a sacrifice in the war, for their nation, their people, their honor. This shows that no sacrifice can be too great a sacrifice for one's ideal. There is only the difference of ideal: whether it is a material or a spiritual ideal, whether for earthly gain or for spiritual gain; whether for man or for God.
As long as renunciation is practiced for spiritual progress, so long it is the right way. As soon as renunciation has become a principle, renunciation is abused. Man, in fact, must be the master of life. He must use renunciation, not go under in renunciation. So it is with all virtues. When virtues control man's life, they become idols. It is not idols that man must worship, it is the ideal he must worship in the idol.
23. Sacrifice
Sacrifice was taught to the world at different times, in different degrees suited to the stage of evolution that had been reached, just as we teach a child by its dolls.
At first men were taught to sacrifice a goat or a sheep, because at that time they cared so much for a goat that they were ready to kill another man for the sake of a goat. We see that the same ignorance still existS; for the sake of a trench men killed so many men, and even then they were not sure that the trench would remain theirs.
A man who had so much cruelty in him that he could not refrain from killing and eating a goat was taught, "First sacrifice it. When you kill the goat, do it for God, do it for others." If he had been told, "Sacrifice yourself", he might have said, "How can I sacrifice myself when I cannot even sacrifice my inclination to eat the goat?"
Afterwards self-sacrifice was taught, which Christ explained so well in his life and in the Sermon on the Mount. This sacrifice - to turn the other cheek, to give the cloak away when the coat has been taken - could not be understood by the ordinary person, because it is the moral of sages and saints. This makes it very difficult for them to live in the world, and has made many people turn away from religion altogether. They said, "The teaching of the prophets and saints is too high for us. We cannot understand it." If one says to a business-man in his office, "Give whatever they claim from you, and give more", he will say, "No, I have a thousand claims in the law-courts; I will fight and win."
When Muhammed came, all that had been taught before in the prophetic messages was united in his message. Both sorts of sacrifice were taught: the sacrifice of animals, that is of their property, for those who were in that grade of evolution; self-sacrifice for those who had reached a higher stage.
The moral of sacrifice was taught at a time when mankind in general was much nearer to the animal. The dog, even when it has had enough food and there is some remaining on its plate, will not let another dog take it. Even in this time we do not like another to share our profit, our benefit, even if it is our own brother. If he has his profit somewhere else it is all right, but he must not take the best part of ours. The dog does not like to let another dog have even the remains of its food, because it does not know whether it will get more at another time. Where we see our own benefit, there we are blind, and it is only this that keeps us imperfect.
If you see your own benefit, there may be a wife in your house, a child, a sister, a brother, a friend, or a servant, but you will see only yourself. If you consider yourself as being the whole family, then you are the sister, the brother, the wife, the child, the friend, the servant. Then you are a perfect family: by opening yourself you have become a perfect family. If you can say, "I am the nation", you are greater; if you say, "If my nation's honor goes down, I go down", you are the nation. If you can say, "I am my race", that is still greater. And if you say, "I am the whole humanity", that is the greatest. Then everyone who comes before you is your sister or your brother. You are yourself all. When man is his individual self, then he is narrow and imperfect; when he is all, then he is perfect.
I was reading this morning a verse of the Bible and was much touched by its meaning, "Ye are the salt of the earth." The salt is that which in water has the strongest flavor. So in the whole manifestation man is the strongest power on earth, and "if the salt hath lost its savoir, wherewith shall it be salted?" If man loses his human quality, where shall it be found? The birds, the animals cannot give it to him; God Himself is helpless to give it to him. All man's perfection is within himself, if only he would uncover it and see it. The Kingdom of God is within man, and his will should rule it.
All godheads were really men, not different from us. What was in their soul is in our soul also. If we single out one man for our worship, it proves our ignorance, our ignorance of our own soul. We are as they were; it is only that the divine power, the divine wisdom was working through them.
The dog, as I said, does not like to let another dog take even the remains of its food, because it has no confidence in the sustaining power of nature; also its self is always before its eyes, and it is the idea of the self that blinds. We have read in books and we have understood intellectually that God is all, that we are the Whole Being. But when a little insult comes to our self, to our pride, how angry we are! We think the whole world is altered. In reality there was no harm, it was just a little hurt to our pride. But if we are so angry, it is because we have understood only with our intellect that God is all; we have not realized it in our own life.
We cannot easily become saints - they are the great ones; we cannot become prophets - they are greater still. But we can ask ourselves every day whether we have considered the other as ourself, whether we have considered his benefit as our benefit. There are many practices, but this is the greatest practice and the most difficult one. It does not require more study, more learning; but by this practice we can reach perfection.
There is a great teaching in the story of Abraham's sacrifice. It has often been misinterpreted and so its meaning has been lost. The great religions have often been misinterpreted by their followers and by historians, and this has caused their downfall for which otherwise there was no reason. I will tell you this legend in which there is a great revelation.
Abraham had a son whom he loved very much. At that time children were prized much more than they are in the present age. Now we have many other possessions besides children, and these other possessions distract our thought from the children. Then a child, a son or a daughter, was all. A son was valued more, because they thought: a son keeps the name and a daughter does not.
Abraham loved his son very much. It is the nature of every human heart to love and especially of one chosen to be a prophet. That Power which draws all and everyone to itself became jealous of this love; for it is our nature that whatever we love is the whole world to us, whether it is a child, a brother, a friend. When we have it we think that we have the whole world, and when we lose it we think that the whole world is lost.
A voice came from the Divinity to Abraham, "Sacrifice your son to Us." Abraham was ready to sacrifice his son to God. He asked the mother's consent; she gave it. Then he asked his son; he also was resigned to the will of God for his own sacrifice. He said, "Yes, I may be sacrificed." Then Abraham took a knife and cut his son's throat. As he cut it his son was taken away and he saw him standing before him, safe. A goat was put in his place.
The meaning of this legend has often been misunderstood; it has been said that the goat, the life, should be sacrificed. The meaning is much greater. Abraham is the spiritual teacher, the father. We still call the priest father; he who shows the way to God is the father of the spirit. Ismail is the pupil, the child to whom the Murshid show this way to sacrifice: the sacrifice of the self, of the individuality. This is the greater sacrifice, the annihilation of the self. By shaghal and amal and other practices the self is made to disappear, it is lost. When the self is gone from before us then all other selves can come, then illumination comes; then, when the individual self disappears, the spiritual self appears. Only the illusion is lost; the self is not lost, but the beginning is annihilation. This is all the secret of mysticism, all that the prophets and mystics have taught.
Sacrifice has been much misunderstood by those who practice it. It is thought that God will be pleased with the life of a goat that is offered - and which the sacrificers then keep for themselves. The bankbook is not sacrificed, property is not sacrificed, nor the house, nor the furniture, but a goat is brought and killed, and they make a feast.
It was taught to say when sacrificing: Allahu akbar, la ilaha ill Allahu - God is great, none exists but God. This shows that the sacrifice of our animal self is meant by the law of sacrifice. We should sacrifice our time, our sleep, thinking, "Before my birth I slept and I do not know where I was. In the grave sleep is waiting for me. Now only is the time when I can work." Then the thought comes, "That day I felt as I should not feel, that time I spoke as I should not speak, that year I acted as I should not act. So many months and years, so much of my life is past, and nothing is done that was worthwhile." This makes us think that it is not too late to awaken.
If we can sacrifice our sleep to work for humanity, we should do it. If by having not such good food we can share with another, we should do it. If by having not such a nice dress we can give a dress to one who needs it, we should do it. If by having one dish instead of many we can share with someone who needs it, we should do that. If we can sacrifice our pleasures, our theaters, to give to others we should do it. We can sacrifice our anger when anger comes upon us. We can sacrifice our pride. We can bow to those who think little of us. There are many sacrifices that do not cost one penny. We can give some of our time if we cannot afford a great generosity. We can give our patience to those who need our patience. To those who want some liberty - very well, we can give liberty. I think all this is worthwhile sacrifice: we should do it.
Sacrifice is only legitimate when, through every cost or loss, it is willingly done, The one who sacrifices may feel the reward much more than the cost or pain he has endured or suffered in sacrificing. The law of sacrifice is that it is only valuable when it gives pleasure to the one who sacrifices. The sacrifice must be done whole-heartedly. Sacrifice is like a bath in the Ganges; it can be more sacred than anything in the world. When a person does not do it for a principle, but only for the good he may receive in return, then it is useless. When it is done for the joy of sacrifice, in that case the joy is great.
The law of sacrifice depends upon the degree of evolution. One sees this among children. A child who grows up understands life better and is perhaps more ready to make a sacrifice than the child who knows only the object he wants and nothing else. In this world it is not the difference of years, but the evolution of every soul which keeps it young: the more grown-up the more ready to sacrifice, and the younger the less ready for the joy of sacrifice.
Apart from the point of view of the benefit hidden in the idea of sacrifice, it is not a thing that every soul can understand. One person will do something and consider that there is great wisdom in his sacrifice, while another who is not evolved enough to understand it will say, "How very foolish!." Remember therefore that not only to the wise person the man of little sense seems foolish, but even to the foolish person the wise one seems foolish. The points of view of both are different: one looks from the top of the tower, the other standing on the ground. So there is a vast difference in the range of their sight.
It is a man's outlook on life which makes him broad or narrow, and it is the grade of his evolution which gives man the illumination of sacrifice. What a man was not inclined to do last year, he may be inclined to do this year; the sacrifice one could not make yesterday, one can make today, for the rate of speed of man's evolution cannot be limited to a particular standard. A broad outlook enriches man and a high point of view ennobles the soul.
24. Ambition
This whole manifestation has ambition as its underlying motive and, as everything in the world has two swings, it also has a forward swing and a backward swing. When a race or a nation has reached the furthest point of the forward swing, it recognizes that all is valueless, and it begins the backward swing which means annihilation, the return to God.
We can see this in the East. The wish of every person there is to do without. They will rather eat with their fingers than with fork and knife; they will rather eat on the floor than at a table; they will rather go bareheaded than wear a hat, and they will rather go barefoot than wear shoes. All their present backwardness is because they have lost ambition for advancement. When they had ambition they too progressed, and at one time they were first in civilization.
When the wise people had reached that point the time of renunciation began, and the reflection of the wise fell upon the foolish. Not only the wise men who had some reason for it practiced renunciation, but also the foolish. They had no reason for it, but the influence of the wise affected them. They are all in a dream, without ambition, lazy. If one would say to them, "You are always dreamy and lazy. Have some ambition, be active!", they would answer, "I am happy in my dream. What else could you teach me?" If anyone wishes to walk over their head, they allow it; they say, "There will be a third one, stronger than he, who will one day walk over his head." There are many in India who do not kill insects, as the Jains. A Brahmin does not kill a snake. How then could he take a weapon in his hand and stand against a man?
I have met a Brahmin, a great musician, and I was much astonished for he was in his dhoti wearing only a towel which covered his back. But when he began to speak it was evident that his knowledge was so great that he was the greatest musician of his time. In the West the ambition for worldly things drives a man so far that he often forgets his parents, he neglects his duties. His self is always before his eyes. I have seen that it is always so in the life of business, of commerce, of trade. The worldly ambitions are so strong that a man has no time for spiritual knowledge. Very often he would have a tendency to realize the truth through his intelligence, but the ambitions of the world are too strong.
If one says, "Shall we renounce and become as they are in the East, living in a dream, and rather lazily? Shall we allow whatever nation to walk into our country?" - I shall answer that there cannot be one principle for everyone, because everyone is not in the same stage of evolution. Therefore the Sufi prescribes no common principle for all. He does not say, "Renounce. Do not be cruel." The Sufi has been blamed for this many times, because to have no principles in ordinary language means to be very bad. We recognize that what is a right principle for one is not always right for another. To a lord who has so many millions of pounds we shall not say, "Do not give a great dinner or a ball in your house." He would say, "All the other lords do it." He cannot have the same principles that a Murshid prescribes for himself. My Murshid once refused initiation to the Nizam of Hyderabad because the Nizam could not follow the principles that the Murshid would prescribe.
A person must not choose the way of renunciation as long as any ambition within him remains unfulfilled. Vairagya, the thought of renunciation, comes to every wise person, to every righteous person. Sometimes a man thinks, "I want to renounce all, because I am disgusted." Another time he thinks, "But if I were given a little bungalow and a little garden, I would not renounce it." Sometimes he thinks, "I will renounce the whole world", and another time he thinks, "But if I were Mr Asquith", or Mr Asquith's secretary, I would not renounce." If one says, "I have renounced the Tsar's throne", what does that mean? Only the Tsar may say, "I renounce the throne that has been given to me."
It is only when every ambition has been satisfied that a person should take the way of renunciation. Until then let him use his power. Whilst any desire remains he must not renounce it; it is not right. You might ask, "Then shall we never renounce?" Yes, when your ambition is unjust, when it is cruel, then renounce.
25. Satisfaction
The satisfaction of every soul lies in its recognition. Every person desires that there would be someone in the world who understands him well, at least as well as he understands himself. A wife says, "I have a comfortable home and a good husband; I only wish that he would understand me better." The servant says, "I get good pay and the master is kind; I only wish that he would know me well." An artist is satisfied when his art is admired by the knower. This is the usual seeking of every soul.
There is a story about a mimic who was performing his skill of imitating different birds and animals in the street in front of the window of a palace from where the king was looking on. At the end of his performance a golden shawl was thrown to him from the palace-window as a reward from the king, and an old blanket was presented to him by a shepherd. The mimic adorned himself with the ragged blanket of the shepherd and kept the shawl of the king under his arm. The king disliked this behavior on the part of the mimic and asked him why he insulted the palace by adorning himself with the shepherd's gift, hiding the reward of the king. He answered, "Because the shawl was given as a token of your Majesty's greatness, and the blanket was given purely in deep admiration for my imitation of the cow twitching its skin, which no one but the shepherds could understand so well."
From this story we learn that there is no greater reward given or love shown than in recognition. As this is the desire of every soul, so it is also the desire of the Soul of souls. He puts forward His hand to such suitor who comes before Him with full recognition.
26. Harmlessness
Harmlessness Is a good moral, but the difficulty is that we cannot be good to one without being harmful to another. For instance, we are good to our cat and we give it the lamb's meat to eat; so we are harmful to the lamb. Or we sacrifice the vegetable for the sake of being good to the lamb. We harm the mineral when for the sake of some flowers we put clay in water, bend and knead it and then put in the fire in order to make a bowl to hold the flowers. How many things do we make out of iron, how much do we torment it in order to make ourselves comfortable? How many things do we make out of wood? The lives of how many animals do we sacrifice in order to make ourselves comfortable and happy? As to ourselves, how much do we sacrifice the benefit, the comfort of our fellow-beings for our own benefit? We do not ponder upon it, but it is so.
How many things do we make out of the bones of animals? Our shoes are made out of the skin of animals; the furs of animals cover us warmly. The flesh of animals we use for our food. Fishes, which never dreamed of harming us, we catch in nets. We load burdens upon horses, camels and elephants, and we take from the calf its share in the form of milk and butter upon which our everyday's livelihood depends. This shows that what we have built up and have comforted ourselves with is nothing else than tyranny - of which we never stop to think for a while.
We are so placed that we cannot live one instant without being harmful. In Persian it is said: Bandagi becharagi bondage is helplessness. Man cannot help being harmful, and without being that he is helpless. It is this dependence, this helplessness, which makes him the servant of God. The Quran speaks of abdul Allah, servant of God, and this is the highest title that can be given to man.
The moral is rather to be harmful to the lower creation for the sake of the higher, rather to be harmful to the animal than to man. If a man has stolen your dog, rather let him have the dog, than have him sent to prison, because the man is more valuable than the dog. If your child has hurt the cat a little, and if you shake the child and hurt it, it is a mistake, because the child is of more value than the cat. If an animal has eaten your corn, your flowers and fruits, let the corn go, do not break the back of the animal. By this moral a person becomes so harmless that in the end he is not harmful any more - not even to the mineral. Harmlessness is the essence of moral.
27. A Question about Vegetarianism
Question: Is vegetarianism advisable for the sake of not killing animals?
Answer: There are two things to be considered in this connection. One is harmlessness. It is a human tendency to hurt and harm; man has inherited it from the lower creation. It is this tendency which prompts him to kill poor creatures and make his food out of them in spite of all the vegetables and cereals, fruits and nuts which are provided for him by nature. The other point is that for the purification of the blood, for the health of the muscles, and for general purity of the body the vegetable diet is far preferable to flesh food.
At the same time the training of the Sufi is a spiritual treatment and, as a physician sees in every case what is best for that particular person, so the Murshid prescribes for his mureeds what is best for them. There may be a person for whom a vegetable diet is not sufficient or not good; meat for him may be like a medicine. There is no such restriction, therefore, in Sufism; the need of every individual is according to his health. We do not make a dogma out of vegetarianism.
In connection with the same question I may make another remark. In ancient times shepherds used to clothe themselves with tiger skins in order to secure their lives from the danger of wild animals, when taking care of their herds they moved about in the forests. When a wise person who is good and kind lives in this world of different natures, it is more difficult for him to live in the gross vibrations than for others who perhaps are more or less of the same kind. Very often therefore one hears people say of a person who has died young that he was good - and there is some truth in it too. Many souls, fine, good and beautiful, come on earth and cannot withstand the coarseness of the ordinary human nature.
What is diet? Diet is not for the soul, it is only for the body. The body is a cover, a blanket, and if the body is covered with armor, then it can stand the struggle of life. If ever the great ones allow themselves to partake of flesh food, which in reality is meant for the average person, it is for that reason.
28. Unselfish Actions
A person is apt to think, "Why should I perform actions that bring me no return? Why should I be kind, where no kindness is shown to me, where there is even no appreciation?" In this way he commercializes his kindness: he gives in order to receive. This blindness comes upon man, and it makes him blind even towards God. He thinks, "Why should I be grateful to God? There is nothing to be grateful for. If the sun shines, it is natural. If I have what I need for my living, I work for it all day"; or else, "I belong to such a family where it is natural that everything should be provided for me."
Man never sees how helpless he is in himself. If there were no ground, he could not stand. If there were no air, he could not breathe. If there were no parents, he could not have been brought up. All things that keep him alive are those upon which his existence depends, for which an unbounded amount of thanks is due. But he thinks, "If I perform any kind action, God should do a thousand kindnesses to me. If I do anything for others, God should do a thousand times as much for me." Then he wishes to give only when there is a return. He speaks a kind word in order that kind words may be spoken to him; this is flattery. He says, "I like you because you like me. I am your friend, because you can help me. I am your enemy, because you have done me harm."
The Sufi says, "Ishk Allah, Mahbud Allah - God is love and Beloved." This word love we have so altered, so degraded in our ordinary life. We say, "I love you, because you love me. I am your friend, your well-wisher, because you are my friend and well-wisher." This friendship lasts a short time and then it is gone. It is as if we say: "I like this flower because it is beautiful", and when its beauty is gone, it is thrown away.
Question: What is the best way to learn not to look for appreciation and reciprocity? Answer: To develop independence in nature. When one loves one must love for the sake of love, not for a return. When one serves one must serve for the sake of service, not for acknowledgement. In everything a person does, if he does not think of reciprocity or appreciation in any manner or form, he may perhaps seem a loser in the beginning, but in the end that person will be the gainer, for he has lived in the world and yet held himself above the world; it cannot touch him.
Furthermore the tendency to doubt, to be depressed, the tendency towards fear, suspicion and confusion, the tendency to puzzle - where does it all come from? It all comes from the thought of getting something in return: "will another give me back what I have given him? Shall I get the just portion back, or less?" If that is the thought behind one's acts there will be fear, doubt, suspicion, puzzle and confusion. For what is doubt? Doubt is a cloud that stands before the sun, keeping its light from shining. So is doubt: gathering around the soul it keeps its light from shining out, and man becomes confused and perplexed. Once selflessness is developed, it breaks through the cloud saying, "What do I care whether anyone appreciates it; I only know to give my service, and that is all my satisfaction. I do not look forward to get it back. I have given it and it is finished; this is where my duty ends." That person is blessed, because he has conquered, he has won.
Then it is lack of knowledge of the divine justice when man doubts whether he will get his just portion, or whether the other will get the best of him. If he looked up and saw the perfect Judge, God Himself, whose justice is so great that in the end the portions are made equal and even - there is only a question about the beginning, not about the end - if only he saw the justice of God, he would become brave, he would trust and not trouble about a return. God is responsible for returning a thousandfold what man has ever given.
29. Expectations
The Quran says, "Man is cruel and man is foolish." He is cruel because he is harmful at each move he makes throughout life, and he is foolish because he does not know his true benefit.
Whatever you wish to obtain, live only for that, think only of that. If you wish to be rich, think only of riches, be with rich people, be always playing with money: then you will certainly be rich. But if, when you have ten pounds, you think I want a dinner party, and a theater party and a new dress, you cannot be rich. If you want fame think only of fame; work and praise and flatter, think only how your name and fame may come out.
Man does not know what he really wants, what his true benefit is. Sometimes he thinks that satisfying the senses is his benefit; sometimes he thinks that material comforts are his benefit; sometimes he thinks that fame or money will satisfy him. His true benefit is to be independent of all these momentary satisfactions, but great renunciation is needed for this. He must renounce even what is necessary for life, as food, sleep, praise and attention. Then he sees, "I can live without this, I can live without what is needed for life." Then comes the realization that he is not a physical being but a higher being, and by this realization he is liberated and exalted.
Resignation to the will of God is the highest stage. A person must first work with the idea of benefit for the self, before he can arrive at that stage. This means that he must pass through selfishness in order to arrive at unselfishness. You might say, "The world is full of people working for the self"; but those have not realized what is the real benefit of the self. That which gives a momentary pleasure, a pleasure that lasts a few days, is no benefit for the self. To abuse another gives a pleasure for a moment; it is not of real benefit to the self. Those actions are not even selfish actions, they are foolish: the intelligence has not understood what the self is.
30. Be a Lion Within
Life is such that if we lay our hand here, there is a stone, if we lay our hand there, there are thorns. We can rely upon no one, not upon a relation, nor upon a friend. Whether friend or relative, whether master or servant, husband or wife, they do not care how we fare, they want so much work done by us. Whether it is a friend or a brother, he wants his own benefit from us, however near he may be. How could we expect the contrary, when we cannot rely upon our own mind and our own body to be always the same? After many experiences a person learns this. It takes a long time, because hope always remains. Man always thinks, if I cannot rely upon this one, then upon that one, if not upon this friend, then on that other one.
Then, from a lion, man must become a sheep. In the world each one is a lion, and behind each lion there is a bigger lion, and a machine gun ready to devour him. Man becomes a sheep; he becomes humble, meek. You might think, "The lion is greater than the sheep. Why, from a lion, should I become a sheep, from better become worse?" The lion is lion outside; to others he is a lion, in his own soul he is a sheep, because he has not the courage to fight his own passions. His anger rules him, he does not control his anger.
In order to be the lion of God you must be a lion within, towards yourself. Then you are brave enough to stand against any evil, any power, because there is no guilt, there is no weakness. Great humility is needed for this way.
31. Humility
There is a story of Khwaja Moin-uddin Chishti, whose fame is still so great that, although he died hundreds of years ago, thousands come to his tomb every year, and the power of his holiness is so great that everyone who goes there falls into a trance.
One of his mureeds once wrote him a letter and, as we write "yours sincerely", "yours truly", he signed "faqir." Faqir means one who has renounced, one who is spiritual. Khwaja Moin-uddin Chishti read the letter and said, "Thank God, I have a mureed who is faqir, what I myself, all my life following this way, have not become." He answered the mureed saying, "I am very glad to read that you have become faqir." The mureed was much dismayed. He thought, "What have I done? I have written a very wrong thing." Faqir also means a humble person, which was what he meant.
He went to his Murshid and said, "I have made a great fault." The Murshid replied, "It is all right. I wish that you should be greater than I. I shall show you how I am considered." He took the mureed out in the wilderness where the hermits were living, a long, long way from any town. They knocked at a door, and a voice came from within, "Will the dogs of the world not leave us in peace even here?." Khwaja Moin-uddin Chishti said, "I am your Murshid, and you see in what sort of respect I am held."
31. Moral Culture
We distinguish between good and evil, right and wrong by our own experiences. One man has a good experience from a certain thing and at once calls it good; another has a bad experience from the same thing and calls it bad. A person who may seem very bad to some is called good by his friend. In a person who leads a merry life one may be sure, by looking carefully, to find some good, such as may not be found in persons of great repute for their holiness and spirituality.
Man is born with such a critical tendency and has so much developed this tendency that he easily seeks what is bad in everything. The Sufi takes the contrary way; he seeks for what is good in everyone and everything. The way of morality is to think that if someone has done us some good it is very great, and if we have done good to someone to think that it is very little and that we might have done more. If a person has done something bad to us we should forget it as soon as possible, and if we have done something bad we should think that a great fault. If we see something that seems bad to us we should overlook it, disregard it, forgive it. This is the only way of happiness and peace.
We must never think, "You did so much good to me, I do so much good to you." That makes all goodness and kindness a commercial transaction: you give me a hat, and I give you a pair of gloves!
If someone finds fault with another, he will try to get us to agree with him. He will say, "That person is doing this. Is it not dreadful?." If we say, "Yes, yes, it is terrible", our fault will be as great, or greater, than his.
Whatever is said or done echoes in the world as in a dome, and what good or bad a person does comes back to him. It may not always come back from the same person to whom he did good or harm. It may come from quite another side, because the universe is not many beings, but one Being. If a man does harm to a person who did nothing to him, that person is receiving back what bad he once did to another. However, that does not justify you, as an individual, in doing harm. When good is done, it also comes back as good, maybe from another side.
Only the Murshid who is responsible for his mureeds, or the father who is responsible for his children, may Say to the face of the mureed or the child, "My child, this is not right for you", but he may not tell it to others.
The morals of humanity have three aspects: morality with regard to God, morality regarding friends, and morality with regard to those whom we do not like and to enemies.
Morality with regard to God has three parts. The first is to idealize, to see all the good attributes in God, all the beautiful qualities, all His mercy and kindness. You may ask, "Why should we not also see the bad attributes in God. Why should we not say that God is cruel?" For instance, a child may be ill and the mother may say, "I pray God to make my child well." Then, if the child is not better, the mother may say, "God is unjust, God has no justice. This little child, what has it done that it should suffer so much?." In reality the child is not our property; we have no right to it. It belongs to the Spirit. The moral is: if you are sorry - not to complain of God; if you are sick - not to blame God; if you are unfortunate - not to say that it is God's fault. This is called adab.
The second part is praise. Wherever we see something beautiful - to give the credit to God. Wherever we see some kindness - to say that it is the kindness of God. When we perform some act of mercy - to give the credit to God.
The third part is thanks. God does not need man's worship or man's thanks. Nothing can be given to Him by man's worship, nor can anything be taken from Him. If one goes to King George's Palace and says, "I wish to thank the king", the sentry will say, "Thank him at home. You cannot thank the king here." Man's worship, man's praise are needed for man himself in order to produce in him the attributes of humanity.
The morality regarding those we like, our friends, firstly is to be sincere, not to say what is not true. In the world everybody says, "How kind you are. How good you are", and not a word of it is meant. People in towns are polite and polished, but the heart does not feel much. If one goes to villages where there are two or three hundred houses, one will find people not so polished but with more heart, more ready to sympathize. This is so all over the world. I used to think that it was so in India, but now I have seen that it is so everywhere.
Secondly, always be a friend. If once you have formed a friendship, keep it up. However circumstances and cases may change, keep up the friendship. Do not be one day a friend and the next day an enemy. Do not expect your friend to do what you do. He may not be worthy, or he may not be able to do what you do, and if you expect a kindness in return for a kindness it becomes commercial: I give you a book, you give me a pencil. That is not friendship, it is trade.
Thirdly, do not increase the friendship. If one increases it, friendship becomes so heavy that it cannot last. It becomes a spell, an intoxication; when the intoxication is gone the love and friendship are gone, and hatred remains. A story is told about the emperor Mahmud Ghaznavi. He was riding his horse outside the city where a drunken man was sitting by the roadside. When he saw the emperor on his horse he said, "O man, will you sell me that horse?." The emperor was amused at his confidence and boldness; he smiled at him and rode on. Later, when the emperor came back, he saw the man still sitting by the roadside, his drunkenness gone. The emperor said to him, "Are you the man who wants to buy the horse?" The man replied, "The buyer of the horse has gone, the servant of the horse remains." This was a very good and nice answer, and the emperor was pleased with it. The moral is: have a little friendship and keep it up.
The morality towards those whom we dislike, towards enemies, is more difficult, and it is much greater. For it is easy to be kind to those whom we like, who please us. In those whom we dislike even merits do not seem merits; we cannot see their merits because of our dislike. We should pity those who cannot attract our liking, and we should not think that we are different from them. We can see on the face of a man who takes a dislike to another that his own soul despises him, because in disliking the other he dislikes his own soul. His own soul is not a different soul; it is the same soul as that of the other, the same soul as the soul of the prophet, the same soul as the soul of the greatest sinner, the same soul as the Soul of the whole world.
The most essential lines of a poem of Hafiz are these:
"To friends be faithful and loving, to enemies serviceable and courteous. This is the secret of the two worlds."
This was taught in all ages by all the prophets, saints and those who have served the world, and it is because we have forgotten it that we suffer all the ills we suffer; all our lacks come from our forgetting it. It is the secret of happiness and peace. What is done for a return is not service, otherwise all the people in the city working with their machines would be called servants of God. That which is done, not for fame or name, not for the appreciation or thanks from those for whom it is done, but only for love, is service of God.
Muhammed's claim was: Muhammed Abduhu wa ar Rasuluh, Muhammed, His servant and prophet. He was prophet because he was servant. Mahmud Ghaznavi, the emperor, says in a poem, "Mahmud Ghaznavi, who has a thousand slaves, since love gushed from his heart, feels that he is the slave of slaves." No one can be master who has not been servant.
Someone went to Muhammed and asked him, "How long must I serve my mother before I have fully repaid her what she has done for me?." The Prophet said, "If you served her all her life you could not do enough, unless in her last days she said, I forgive you what you owe me." When he asked for more explanation the Prophet added, "You serve your mother thinking that she will live for some years and then it will be over. She served you thinking May my child grow and prosper and live after me. The mother is much greater."
You should ask your soul whether you have always been kind to enemy and friend. If your soul will answer "Yes", then I will say that you are a saint. Although you may not know any mysticism or philosophy, although you may not be a very spiritual person, although you may not see any phenomena or work wonders, this kindness in itself is enough to make you a saint. This kindness is the moral taught by all religions.
You must see in the heart of another the temple of God. God is peeping through the heart of another. In whatever way you can, in act, in speech, in feeling, at whatever sacrifice, you should please the heart of the other and do nothing that can hurt it.
33. Hope
The word hope to those who are broken-hearted is startling, to them it is poison. If you speak of hope to the brokenhearted they say, "Do not speak of it, I do not wish to hear of it!." The state of the broken-hearted is worse than death; they are without ambition, without hope, without life. The one who is broken-hearted is dead while he is alive; the breath is still there, but his heart is dead, life has gone with the hope that was lost. He may not be old in years, but he has become old.
To him who is heartless hope is a ridiculous word. The heartless, he whose heart is incapable of feeling, will say, "Hope? What is it? See what you can do, and do it. Do not dream." This is the material person who can see no further than the material possibilities.
In the life of Christ we see that enemies, difficulties and helplessness were all around - and confidence in the truth of the message gave hope to carry it through. If there had not been hope, the thought "I will bring the message", what material possibility was there of spreading the message? This whole manifestation has hope as its underlying motive. Nature first hoped to produce the world and then produced it.
In the Orient people have the habit of depending upon kismet, fate, and this is a source of weakness. If an astrologer tells a Brahmin, "After so many years such and such a calamity will come upon you", the Brahmin does not even make an effort to fight against misfortune; he awaits it and accepts it. If a man is told, "In such a year you will become very ill", he does not even try to avoid the illness. They do not consider that hope can avert misfortune and can turn aside even the influence of the planets. Where no possibility of attaining the object is given, a strong hope can attain it.
Without going to the mystics this can be seen in the history of kings. Mahmud Ghaznavi was a slave. What possibility was there for him to become a king? With only hope he started from Turkistan and rounded a kingdom in Afghanistan. Of Timur is told that once he was lying asleep in the jungle. He was going through such a hard time that he did not even have a place to lie down, hardly any clothes, nothing. A dervish happened to pass that way and saw Timur lying in the hot sun where not even an animal would lie. He went nearer and saw about this man some signs of greatness. He also saw a sign of bad luck, and that sign was that Timur, while asleep, was lying with his legs crossed. He saw that this man himself was the hindrance to his undertakings. The dervish had a stick and hit him so hard that the bone of his leg broke. Timur woke up feeling a great pain. He said, "O dervish, this is very unkind! I already have such hard luck, and you break my bone." The dervish replied, "My son, your bad luck is gone. You will be emperor." There seemed to be no possibility for it; Timur had no army, no clothes even, and now his bone was broken. But after great striving and after many years he became the emperor Timur Leng.
All works that have been accomplished have been accomplished by hope. Without hope the engineer could not have built a bridge across the Thames; he hoped, and then he built it. Without hope the Suez Canal, a thing that seemed impossible, could not have been cut.
One may ask, "How long shall I hope? I have hoped once and I have been disappointed; I have hoped a second time and I have been disappointed; I have hoped a third time and I have been disappointed." I will say "Hope until the last breath. While there is breath in the body, hope."
A person may lose hope in his profession or trade. For instance he may have gone to a singer to take singing lessons for one or two months, or for one or two years, and then he may think, "I am not getting on with this, I should stop singing. I believe I have no voice." Or he may think, "I am not getting on in my business. I cannot make it a success, I should give it up." The ill is not changing of profession or business, but giving up altogether. If the person thinks, "Now I wish to be a poet", and becomes a poet, then he is not hopeless; or if he thinks, "Now I wish to compose", and old age the hurt of the heart may cause hopelessness. This shows us how careful we should be not to hurt the heart of another and not to let our own heart be hurt. In India we are most careful of this; diljoi, not to hurt the heart of another is taught as the greatest moral: not to hurt the heart of the parent, of the friend, even of the enemy. Also our own heart must be protected by forts around it.
A story is told about a man who went to the Sharif of Mecca and said to him that the camel the Sharif rode was his and had been stolen from him. The Sharif asked whether he had any witnesses. He had none. Then the Sharif asked, "What proof have you that the camel is really yours? How can you recognize it?" The man answered, "On my camel's heart are two black spots." "On its heart?", said the Sharif, "How do you know that?" The man replied, "The animals feel as we do. My camel - it is a she-camel - had two young ones, and at different times both died. Each time I saw that the camel looked up to heaven and gave a cry like a sigh, a deep great sigh, and that was all. So I know that on her heart are two black spots." The Sharif held out two gold coins and said, "Either take back your camel, or take the price for your discovery." If the heart of an animal can feel like this, how much can the heart of man feel!
Man was made with a most feeling heart. A Hindustani poet has said, "The heart of man was made for feeling. For praise and worship the angels in heaven are many."
Man's heart has a great capacity for feeling, it is most sensitive to any touch. How careful we must be to touch it, lest we may wound it. The greatest fault is to hurt the heart of another, the greatest virtue is to please the heart of another. He who has learned this moral has learned all morality.
If we do not protect our own heart from harm, we can be killed at every moment. Amir, the poet, says, "Why did you not kill me before you wounded my heart? It would have been better to kill me first." We must consider what the world is and what it can give. We must give and not expect to take the same as we give. A kick for a kindness, a blow for a mercy is what the world gives. We must not expect the world to be as we are expected to be. If we receive some good, it is well. If becomes a composer; or "I should be a teacher", and becomes a teacher, then he is not hopeless.
People say that doctors now have found remedies for so many diseases, but I say that the cause of most illnesses is loss of hope. In the pharmacy there is no such great remedy for all diseases as hope is. Even when the disease is incurable, hope cures it.
The question arises: What hope is right, and what hope is not right? A wise person will never hope for what is impossible. Hoping to be a queen, when there are no means of being a queen, is hoping the impossible. First we must know what is possible - this is wisdom - and then we must hope. The Quran speaks of khawf, hope with consideration. This word does not mean fear, as it has sometimes been translated, but consideration, conscientiousness. Hope with the consideration of the purpose for which the manifestation was made, with the consideration of God - that hope is always right. Hope without consideration is wrong.
Why with consideration? Because we must not hope for what is wrong, for what is bad. We must hope with the fear of God before us. The hope must be so strong that, if to-day we are penniless, we must think that there is every possibility that tomorrow we may be a millionaire. If to-day our own relations do not know us, we must think that there is every possibility that tomorrow we may be known to the whole world.
There is no stain so great as the stain of hopelessness. Sometimes weakness is the cause of hopelessness. During an illness a person thinks, "I am so weak, I cannot get better." Or weakness is caused by old age; a person thinks, "I am old, there is little left for me to do", and he becomes sad and discouraged. He really may have the strength to do much more, but the loss of hope makes him old. A man may be given to drink, or he may be a gambler, or have any other vice, and may think, "I am too weak, I cannot be cured."
Besides physical weakness or the weakness that comes with not, it does not matter. The world does not understand in the same way as we do. Material interest has so blinded people that when a question of money comes, of interest, of a share, of a territory, of property, even a child, a wife, a relative, or the closest friend will turn against us. A Sanskrit poem says that, when the question of money arises, no consideration for father or brother remains.
We must fortify our heart, so that we always may be the same, always kind, merciful, generous, serviceable. When a person has understood this, then comes that inner hope which is within every heart, the hope in another life. If one asks anyone why a man must go out and work all day long and have no time to give to what he likes, why a man must leave his parents and go to work, why lovers must part, the answer is always the same: "It is the struggle for life." If this life is so valuable, how great must be the value of that other life. The hope of another life is in man, of a life that is unchanging, immortal and everlasting. It is only because our consciousness is so bound to the self that we are not conscious of it, and it is very bad that the external self always is before us, because it always makes us think, "I have been offended, I have been badly treated, I have been neglected"- always I, I, and I.
There was a dervish who used to say, "Knife upon the throat of man." "Man" in Hindustani means "I." People asked the dervish what he meant, and he said, "The goats and sheep say 'Man, man, man.' I say: a knife upon their throat for this! A man who says 'I' deserves to be killed like the goats and sheep who are slaughtered because they say 'man'."
When that "I" is killed, when the consciousness of this "I" is lost, then comes the consciousness that in the whole existence there is only I - no you, no he, no she. The illusion makes us distinguish you, he she and it; in reality there is only I. When the external I is lost, then a fragrance comes into the personality, a beauty, a magnetism. Then he sees in every being the manifestation of God, he bows before every being. In the Sufi poems we may read of the tyranny of the beloved. This is the tyranny of the beloved, the opposition of manifestation. It is the grade of worship. There is still the grade of realization, of merging in God, but that is beyond it. The grade of worship comes first.
If a priest sees a foolish person doing something foolish, he may say with authority, "He is a sinner." But the Sufi says, "I am much worse than he, I have no right to condemn him. I am a worshipper, I must see here the manifestation of God. I must worship it; I must revere it, serve it, and therein accomplish my life's purpose."
Aphorism
I have always hope. Hope is my greatest strength. I do not require that my hopes are filled, as fuel is needed to keep the fire burning. My hopes are kept alive in my faith.
34. Patience
Patience, the word itself, is the heaviest thing that is. To one who is in difficulties and troubles, to one who is in sorrow, to one who lives in the wish of obtaining his desire, the word patience has a dreadful sound. The sound is dreadful, the thought is terrible, the idea is frightful to us. Yet all our difficulties in life, all our failures come from lack of patience. All the results of life often are lost through impatience. A person may have patience for forty years, and then lose patience, and so lose the result of all his endeavors during so many years.
The impatient person will show his impatience in his speech. When you ask him something, he will not let you finish your sentence; he answers before you have finished because he thinks, "Why should you still say that half sentence?" The impatient person eats very fast, and all the veins and tubes of his body cannot drink so fast as he drinks. If he walks across the room he will stumble ten times; he walks into chairs, into the table, into the door and does not look into whom he walks. If he intends to take some action, he starts, and three times before he reaches the door he will say, "I am going, I am not going, I am going", because he does not give time to his decision.
All our errors and faults come from impatience. It is not that the soul wants something which is wrong, but we do not stop to weigh our acts. We seize upon the first thought that comes to us without weighing or considering it. Nowadays the wish for variety has grown so strong that we always wish for new surroundings, new friends, new faces, and our thoughts change every moment. If we could hold our thought, we should increase its power. We think, "It is only a thought, it will pass." In reality, by our thought we create a spirit, a jinn, a genius, that acts and works and achieves. The more patiently we think a thought, the stronger the thought becomes.
The lesson of patience is much less taught nowadays as the influence of religion has become much less, and education is mostly given for commercial purposes. So we must look upon the lesson of patience as a lesson we give to ourselves; we must think of all the beautiful results we gain by patience, and be sure that, if we have conquered patience, we have conquered the whole world.
35. Confidence
Patience in perseverance is a very good thing, but it can only be possessed by those who have confidence. Each Sura of the Quran is addressed to those who have patience, and great importance is given to confidence: iman.
Muslims perform namaz, their prayers, five times a day. If you ask an old Muslim whether he has gained anything by it, he will answer, "What do you know about it? I have gained what I wanted: my satisfaction." If he is ill he does not care, he does not blame God. If he loses his fortune, he does not blame God. He does not say, After so many years of namaz this illness, this trouble has come!"
Everything that has been done, has been done by confidence, and nothing can be done without confidence. You cannot dig the earth for gold, if you do not have confidence that the gold is there; you cannot watch the cooking pan, if you do not have confidence that there is something in the pan which the fire has the power to cook.
If I were to tell you to work three hours in the night repeating the name of Allah, you would say, "My Murshid has told me so, and I must do it, but..." Then when you repeated Allah, Allah for half an hour, you would think, "Here I am sitting for half an hour in this cold, and I do not see what I have gained by it. If I were to write some music now, tomorrow I could sell it for five pounds. Then I would have worked and I would have gained something."
It has been the difficulty of all prophets, of all who have come with a message, that people said, "Show us something that these eyes can see. Show that the sun comes down, or the moon, or that the earth cleaves. But the message of God - what is it? Show us something." That is why, if there is a suffrage meeting, at once there is a subscription for a thousand pounds, because people know that by fighting the government they can get laws passed. If someone comes with a message from God and says, "We need money to spread this message", people say, "Why do you need money? Money is needed for a scheme. Have you engineered a scheme?"
To have patience, to have confidence, we must see an object before us. We can have confidence in obtaining any material object. It is much more difficult to have patience where there is nothing to show - only the satisfaction of the soul; to have patience enough to acquire virtue, to merge in the illumination, to gain the light. It is the same with fire: at first there is smoke mixed with it and, if it had no patience until it would become a flame, there would only be smoke and then it would go out. If it has patience it will become a flame that illumines the whole room so that everything can be seen and known. More than all else this patience is the greatest gift and blessing.
Every success in life is brought about by confidence, iman, and all our lacks are due to want of confidence. It is so with material as well as spiritual things.
In India many things are thought lucky or unlucky. If you go out on an undertaking and a cat crosses your road, it is thought that you cannot be successful then. If you go out and at once meet a person carrying flowers, then you will be successful. It is easy to understand the reason. If you first meet something that gives you pleasure, you have a good impression, and that gives you confidence. If you receive a bad impression your confidence disappears. A man, an ordinary sort of man, once came to my Murshid and asked him, "Give me your blessing for good luck. I have built a carriage and I want to make some money with it." My Murshid said, "Every morning when you get up count your money."
Whatever we undertake, we should say, "I shall accomplish it, or lose my life." Failure comes from lack of confidence, lack of confidence comes from doubt, doubt comes from reasoning, and reasoning comes from thinking of the means. If you think, "I will go to Brighton, but perhaps, if I do, the Zeppelins will come and I shall be killed", then you lose your confidence. There was no need to think of the Zeppelins. They might come, but if they came you would be one among the many inhabitants of Brighton, and you might not be killed.
Whether in our own undertakings, or in what we may do to help another, confidence is needed. You may do everything to help another, but if he has no confidence, if he does not work also, there cannot be success. God also needs your confidence and your effort for success.
36. Faith
By faith in God hopelessness can be turned into hopefulness. The spirit draws its power inspirationally from the
divine Source. Every impulse, every desire comes from there, and in accomplishment the law of perfection is realized. But when a person doubts about everything and says that there is no inspiration then, by denying this power, he gives away that which he already possessed. By recognizing the divine Fatherhood of God one becomes conscious of one's divine heritage and one knows that there is no lack in the divine Spirit, and no lack in life. Then there is certainty of fulfillment, which is only a matter of time.
Some good people have almost arrived at the fulfillment of their desire, and then just at the last moment have failed, while others attain ultimate success in everything. One will always find that the souls of the former were influenced by great power but lacked faith, while the others had power supported by faith. If faith is lacking one may attain ninety-nine percent of success and miss the last one, and so in the end the loss takes away all that was previously gained.
Question: What is more necessary for a student of mysticism, faith or intelligence?
Answer: For absolute faith the first step is the ideal. The next step brings man into the presence of God. For the intelligence the way goes from intellect to wisdom, and there are obstacles at every step.
Faith - faith in the greatness, the mercy, the power of God - is the greatest thing. It also is the most difficult thing. For the one who has faith all difficulties, all responsibility rest upon Him in whom he has faith. The intelligence takes its own responsibility. But if there is the least chance of the intellect rebelling against faith, it is a sign that the intellect asks to be fed, and it should be given its food: all knowledge.
Faith is a word that has been so little understood, and often it is considered to be a religious term. Really speaking faith is not only something which is required in religion, but in all aspects of life it is the one thing that is required most. It is the misinterpretation of faith that has taken away the value that could be attached to the word. Otherwise, if I am to say one word, the sense of which is most valuable in the world, it is faith. In the Orient they call faith yaqin and another Arabic word used for it is iman.
There are many things sacred in the world, but faith is the most sacred; not faith in something, but faith in itself. Faith comes from above, doubt rises from below, from the earth. Therefore one is heavenly, the other earthly. When a person is more worldly he is more doubting; the less worldly he is the more faith he has. You may find a person who once had a great faith and then lost it, and you will observe that at the same time his life went from a less worldly condition to a more worldly one. Being more absorbed in the life of this world makes one void of faith. This shows that faith is innate in human nature; doubt is something of which man partakes.
The sun is light, the light which always is light; clouds may cover it, but they do not really cover the sun, they only cover the sun from our eyes. When a person has no faith, it does not mean that in the depth of his being there is no faith. There is faith, but that sun is covered by clouds. When the heart is exposed to the things of the world, there are always doubts rising from the earth, and they will cover the heart.
Doubt gives a pessimistic attitude. One questions, "Will it be, or will it not be? Do I think rightly, or do I think wrongly? Am I on the right path, or on the wrong path? Shall I succeed, or shall I fail throughout life? Will conditions be better, or worse?" When there are two possibilities the earth impresses a person with doubt against the good one. He wants to conquer the good one, to have it, he desires that things should be better, but what he finds, rising from the earth, is doubt, and for his faith therefore he does not get proper support from the earth. As man does not see God, he does not look up, he only looks at the earth and wants support from there. The great lesson that the blessed ones have taught to humanity was to raise one's vision upwards and to find faith in something which is free from all doubt. Pessimism and optimism, therefore, are two different attitudes: the one looks downwards, the other looks upwards.
Very few of us know what miracle is hidden in faith, what power and inspiration. We only think, "I can believe in some things, and in some things I cannot believe." But for what we believe we want proof from the earth. In order to sustain our faith we need sustenance from an unlimited source, but we look for sustenance to the earth which is a limited source. When a person looks at a tank full of water and says, "Oh, what a small supply, what shall I do for next year?", he is right - but he is looking at the tank. When he looks above he will see that the source from which the rain falls is there and can fill many such tanks, and even rivers. Blessing of all kind is there, if only we prepare our heart to receive it. If the heart is small like a glass, it can only fetch a glass of water even if it is taken to the sea. But if the heart is larger then it will bring that much more water.
No doubt, patience is the first lesson to learn in the path of faith, because it is patience which gives one strength to hope. My spiritual teacher used to say as his benediction, "May your faith be strengthened." As a youth I thought that he would say, "May you live long, may you be happy, prosperous, may you gain wisdom." The meaning of this blessing I realize now more and more every moment of my life, for in faith there is all. All that one wants, all that one needs, all that one wishes to attain through life - it is all hidden in one's faith.
It is most interesting and sometimes laughable to see how easy it is for a man to fix his faith on small things, while on large things he cannot fix it: he fixes his faith on an object, not on a person. For instance, if one says to somebody, "Here is a medicine for you, a medicine that will cure you", it is easy for him to have faith. And when one says, "Well, I will think of you for your cure; you will be cured", the first thing that will come to his mind will be doubt. What is the reason? The reason is that he sees the object, he does not see the thought.
I once met a very great healer who had much success, and I asked him the secret of his working. He said, "The secret of my way of working is first that I have taken a religious shrine where people come and sit; they certainly come with faith in this particular shrine. Then I give them some kind of mixture of powder. Really speaking I heal them by myself, but they have no faith in that; so I give them some powder or something to drink, and then they feel better." The whole effort of different religions has been to make man see what is hidden in a human being. Rituals, ceremonies and all different forms teach the same thing: find the secret and the mystery of life not only in the objects but, when you have passed through them, in the human being.
It is the same thing to see that one can easily have faith in a man, while it is difficult to have faith in God, for the reason that one can see a human being before one, but one cannot see the greatest Power and Perfection, which is in the abstract. Faith is as a substance: if one does not possess that substance, one cannot raise it to the highest ideal which alone merits faith.
Medical science is now coming to the realization of the importance of psychology, although it is as yet only considering the thought waves and thought power. Faith is still something else to be considered and studied. My experience with numerous students in this line has shown me that a person may be able to concentrate and maintain a thought, but often is not capable to do it fully, because there is no faith at the back of it. Faith, therefore, is not something which may be called a thought; faith is the ground itself: it is a ground from which thoughts spring up as plants. If the land is not fertile the plants cannot come up. And so, i.e. he can see the medicine, he cannot see the thought of the healer if there is no faith at the root of a thought, the thought is not beneficial. Besides this there is another thing: something that can be accomplished by the power of thought in a year's time, is accomplished with the power of faith behind it in one day.
Someone said to a Brahmin who was worshipping an idol made of stone, "God is formless. He should not be worshipped in an idol of rock." The Brahmin answered, "It is a question of faith. If I have faith in this stone, God who is everywhere will speak through this stone. But if one has no faith, even the God of the abstract, of heavens, will not be able to speak." If this is so, is there anything that cannot be accomplished, that cannot be realized by faith?
When we look at it from a metaphysical point of view we shall find that the secret of the whole creation is faith, and the perfection of faith is attained when it has risen to that ideal, that height, where it can hold itself without any support. Faith therefore after having accomplished all that is to be accomplished, will be the one thing - and that will prove to be all things.
Question: How do we gain that faith?
Answer: By fighting doubt. It is a continual fight, because doubts are the inheritance of the earth. We are walking on the earth, so it is a continual fight.
Question: But faith can be mastered?
Answer: Of course faith can be mastered. As one will fight
doubts, so one will gain one's victory over doubts.!
Question: Can there be a religious faith without being attached to any religion?
Answer: Certainly. The religion of every soul is his own. Outwardly one may belong to a religion, but inwardly everyone has his own religion, and that is his true religion. By faith I do not at all mean faith in a particular religion or gospel, or idea. I say that faith is within a person. Question: Can one obtain the spiritual plane by an earthly fight?
Answer: We say in the East that a teacher is most helpful for that. A person, who in his scientific attainment has arrived for instance at the stage of Edison, is there already; he only has to turn his face and he is already there. There is perhaps a business-man who all his life has done nothing but gain wealth. A religious, orthodox, or pious person will look upon him as most materialistic, but he does not know what fight this man had to go through in his life in order to gain that much money, and what sacrifice, what struggle and consideration he had to give to it. It is not always easy to become a man of wealth. Therefore if he has struggled along and has arrived at a point where he can be called rich, he just has to change his attitude and he is there already.
Question: Can faith have an effect on things that are not religious?
Answer: Oh yes, faith can be used in every direction, just like light. By light you can study religion and fare forth to heavens and do anything. No one in the world has been able to accomplish a great thing without the power of faith, whether he was a general, a business-man, an inventor, or a religious man. The power that faith gives is beyond words. The weakness and the poverty that exist in the absence of faith are most deplorable. A person may have everything in life, youth, wealth, comfort, position and power - if faith lacks he is poverty-stricken.
Question: So if our object is right we are bound to get it unless our faith fails?
Answer: Yes, that is true. It depends upon our attitude - if our heart, just like a compass, is always seeking the right direction. The heart is just like a compass: you can take it to any side, it always points in the same direction. So the heart, wherever one turns it to, will always point to the same direction. In other words for him who does right it is most difficult to do wrong - and for the wrongdoer it is most difficult to do right.
Question: Can the wrongdoer come to right one day?
Answer: Right is the might, and right is the depth, and right is the ideal of every soul. A person who tells a lie, who deceives people, who is treacherous, will do so to others, but he does not want his friends to do the same to him. This shows that he prefers it to be different.
37. Faith and Doubt
Faith and doubt are as light and darkness. The moments of faith are like the moments of the day and the moments of doubt are like those of the night. As both day and night come in life, so hours of faith and hours of darkness also come. It is the seeking of the soul to reach that stage where it feels faith, and it is the nature of the soul to gather doubts around itself. Therefore the soul attracts both faith and doubt. If it happens to attract doubts more, then more doubts will be gathered; if it attracts faith, then more and more faith will come.
Doubts are likened to clouds. If there is one cloud, it will attract others and, if many clouds are gathered, still more will be attracted to join them. If there is one current of the sun shooting through the clouds it will scatter them, and once they are scattered they will be scattered more and more, and more and more light will manifest itself to view. Doubts cover faith but faith breaks doubt. Therefore faith is more dependable: doubts only come and go.
It would not be an exaggeration if I said that doubt is a disease - a disease that takes away faith. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to say that doubt is the rust that eats the iron, the iron-like faith. It is very easy to allow doubts to work, and it is difficult to keep faith. However much evolved a person may be, there comes a time when doubts take hold of him, and the moments he is in doubt the light of intelligence disappears. Therefore there is a constant conflict between doubt and faith. If there was not this enemy who always fights with faith, man could do great things, wonderful things; every man would perform miracles, every man would be perfect. This shows that the greater your faith, the greater person you are; the more deeply rooted your faith, the higher you reach.
One might ask: Is it possible to develop faith? Is it possible to find faith? Yes, in every person a spark of faith is hidden somewhere, but sometimes it is so covered, clouded and buried, that it needs digging, it needs being dug out. What is it buried with? With the sand of doubts. As soon as the sand is removed, the faith-like water springs up.
One can study this principle in a child: a child is born with faith. When one says, "This is water, this is bread, this is father, this is mother", the child does not refuse to believe it; it does not say, "It is not so." The child at once takes it to be so. It is afterwards that doubts begin to come. When the infant grows up, when it begins to hear a story and asks, "But is it real?", then doubt begins. Very often worldly knowledge gives more and more doubts; the experiences of worldly life make one doubt more and more, and when doubt becomes predominant in a person's nature, then he doubts everything and everyone. He doubts those who should not be doubted and he doubts those who can be doubted; there is always a doubt before his eyes. No sooner does he cast his glance upon a person than the cloud of doubt stands between them. In this way inspiration is lost, power is lost, the personality is lost; man has become a machine, a mechanism.
In the business world, in the world of industry, a person does not care what your feelings are, what your being is, how much evolved you are, how deeply you feel, what your principles are, what your thoughts. What this person is concerned with is if the other will sign the paper, whether he will stamp that paper at once, and whether there are two witnesses who watch it at the same time. It does not matter what you are, who you are, as long as the paper is perfect. We are coming to mechanical perfection, we seek after worldly, earthly perfection.
Five hundred years ago - this shows how gradually the world has changed - a Hindustani poet has written: "Those days have passed when a value was attached to man's personality." That is so; it is some centuries since the world went downward. It seems that man has no trust, no faith in another man; what he trusts is the written word.
Faith should be continued to the end. One may have faith when climbing stairs of a hundred steps; one may climb ninety-six steps with faith, and then one may lose it. Before the four steps that are still to be climbed one may lose faith; doubt has come and the whole journey is spoiled. This happens very often in the lives of so many people who are face to face with their success and yet fail. They have just approached what they wanted and then they lose it. In nearly every person's life one sees this, and the greater the person the more one sees it; for the greater the person the more powerful his faith, and therefore he is able to see the play of faith. It is just like sending a kite so far into the sky - and before it reaches higher it drops down. The enemy which causes this is doubt.
One may do something during one's whole life and accomplish it to a great extent, but through lack of a little more faith one will lose it, and all that was done will be spoiled in a moment's time. How long does it take for a house to be built, and how long does it take to destroy it? How long does it take to make a business really prosperous? How long does it take to fail? One moment. When one learns this principle and thinks about it, one begins to see that the whole world, with all that we hear and see and touch and feel, is all illusion in the face of faith. Faith alone is reality, and compared with faith all else is unreal. But since we do not see faith with our own eyes, it is very difficult to call faith real and all else unreal; our eyes cannot see faith and we do not know where it is.
Now arises the question: how can one find faith in oneself, how can one develop it? One can find faith by practicing self-confidence as the first thing, by having self-confidence even in the smallest things. To-day most people have the habit to say with everything "perhaps." It seems as if a new word has come in use; they say "perhaps it will happen." It is a kind of polite expression, or a word of refined people to show themselves pessimistic. I can see their reason; they think that it is fanatic, presumptuous, and simple to say, "It will be", or "It will come", or "It will be accomplished", or "It will be fulfilled." To say "perhaps", - so they think - makes them free from the responsibility of having committed themselves. The more pessimistic a person, the more "perhaps" he uses, and this "perhaps" has gone so deep in souls to-day that they cannot find faith.
After self-confidence is developed, the second step is to trust another with closed eyes. One might think that this is not always practical, and one might think that it might lead to great loss. But at the same time even that loss would be a gain, and a thousand gains compared with the loss of faith would be as nothing. A person is richer if he has trusted someone and lost something than if he had not trusted someone and preserved something - that one day will be taken away from him! He could just as well have given it up.
One might say that every simple person is inclined to trust another. Yes, but the difference between the wise person who trusts bravely and the simple person who trusts readily is great. The wise man who trusts, if he is influenced by another that he may not, or must not, trust a certain person, even if he is given a certain proof, even then that habit of trusting will remain with him. As to the simple man, as soon as anyone says, "Oh, what are you doing, you trust somebody who is not trustworthy", his trust will change. That is the difference between the wise and the foolish person. The foolish person trusts because he does not know better; the wise person trusts because he knows that to trust is best.
The third step towards the development of faith is trust in the unseen, to trust in something which one does not see. Reason does not show what it is, where it is, how it is, how it should be gained, how it can be brought about, how it should be obtained, how it can be reached. One does not see the reason, one only sees: it will be done, it must be done, it must come. It is that trust in the unseen which is called trust in God. When you do not see any sign before you of something that should happen, and yet you think, "Yes, it must happen, it will happen, it certainly must happen", and you have no doubt, then your trust is in God.
The first principle of the Sufi message is faith. It is not only occult study, nor is it scientific analysis, nor psychic phenomena. The first lesson of the message is faith, and it is with faith that the message will be spread. We each shall work in our own way in serving, in spreading the message, and it is with faith that the message of God will be fulfilled.
38. The Story of Orpheus
There is always a deep meaning in the legends of the ancient Greeks, as in those of the Indians, Persians and Egyptians, and it is most interesting to watch how the art of the Greeks, with its beautiful structure as well as with its legends, had a much deeper meaning than would appear on the outside. Seeing and studying this art we find the key to the ancient culture, and the further we explore it the more we shall be acquainted with its depth and its profound meaning.
From the first part of the story of Orpheus we learn that no object a person has once desired from the depth of his heart will ever be lost. Even if the object of love that a person has once desired is in the deepest depth of the earth- where reason, but not the eye, can see it - even then it can be attained if he pursues it sufficiently.
The next thing we learn is that in order to attain an object the love element alone is not sufficient, but besides love wisdom is necessary. It is wisdom, which awakens in harmony and harmonizes with the cosmic forces, which helps one to attain one's object. There is a saying that the one who possesses the knowledge of sound knows the science of the whole life, and this will be admitted by the wise ones of all ages and of all countries. The invoking of the gods by Orpheus was his coming in touch with all the harmonious forces which, united together, brought him that object which he wanted to attain.
But the most fascinating part of the story is the last one, both as a picture and as to the sense. As Orpheus was proceeding, Euridice following him, the promise was that he was not to look back. The moment he would look back Euridice would be taken away from him. The meaning of this is that the secret of all attainment is faith. If the faith of a person endures as far as ninety-nine miles and one mile remains before gaining the object, even then, if doubt comes, attainment is no more to be expected.
From this we learn a lesson, a lesson which can be used in everything we do, in every walk of life: in order to attain anything we need faith, and if faith is lacking - even if there is the slightest lack of faith in the form of doubt- it will spoil all we have done.
"Verily faith is light and doubt darkness."
39. Happiness
Our happiness and unhappiness depend upon one thing: how we look at life, whether we appreciate and value all we have or depreciate and underestimate all we have. If we think of what we have not in life, we shall find that there is so much that we have not got, and it will then seem that what we have got is not even as big as a bubble in a vast sea. And if we try to realize what we have, there also will come a time when we shall see that what we have not is like a little bubble in a vast sea. It is a matter of looking at it. The general tendency is to see what we have not got in life, and rarely a soul is so blessed that he is awakened to appreciate all he has in life and to be thankful for it.
When we think of what we lack, there comes a flood of that lack and it drowns the whole universe; we find ourselves entirely lacking everything that it is possible to have. If we begin to realize what we have, it will be increased and be completed by abundance, so that in the end of our realization we shall be able to find that, really speaking, we have all. It is in this that lies the secret of spiritual attainment. The saying of Christ, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and all these things shall be added unto you", has the same meaning: when by our thankfulness, by our appreciation of life we arrive at the fullness of life, in that bliss we shall find the kingdom of God, and once the kingdom of God is realized all else will be added.
Once a dervish came before Sekandar, the great king, with the bowl of a beggar and asked him if he could fill it. Sekandar looked at him and thought, "What is he asking of an emperor like me? To fill that little bowl?" The dervish asked, "Can you fill this little bowl?" The emperor immediately said, "Yes", but the bowl was a magic bowl. Hundreds and thousands and millions were poured into it but it would not fill, it always remained half empty, its mouth wide open to be filled. When Sekandar began to feel poor while filling this bowl he said, "Dervish, tell me if you are not a magician. You have brought a bowl of magic; it has swallowed my whole treasure and it is empty still." The dervish answered, "Sekandar, if the whole world's treasure was put into it, it would still remain empty. Do you know what this bowl is? It is the want of man."
Be it love, be it wealth, be it attention, be it service, be it comfort, be it happiness, be it pleasure, be it rank, position, power, honor or possession in life, the more man can receive the more he wants. He is never content, he will never be content. The richer man becomes - richer with everything, with anything - the poorer he becomes, for the bowl that he has brought with him, the bowl of want, can never be filled, and is never filled.
The only secret of attaining happiness therefore is to learn how to appreciate our privileges in life. If we cultivate that sense of appreciation we shall be thankful, we shall be contented, and every moment we shall offer our thanks to God, for His gifts are many and enormous. When we do not see them it is because our wants cover our eyes from seeing all with which we are blessed by Providence. No meditation, no study, nothing can help in that direction, except one thing and that is to keep our eyes open to appreciate every little privilege in life, to admire every glimpse of beauty that comes before us, being thankful for every little love, kindness or affection shown to us by young or old, rich or poor, wise or foolish. In this way, continually developing the faculty of appreciating life and devoting it to thanksgiving, we arrive at a bliss which no words can explain, a bliss which is beyond imagination: the bliss that we find ourselves having already entered the kingdom of God.
40. The Privilege of Being Human
Mankind is so absorbed in life's pleasures and pains that a man has hardly a moment to think what a privilege it is to be human. Life in the world contains, no doubt, more pain than pleasure and that which one considers to be pleasure costs so much that, when it is weighed against the pain it costs, it also becomes pain. As man is so absorbed in his worldly life he traces nothing but pain and complaint in life and, until he changes his outlook, he cannot understand the privilege of being human.
Yet, however unhappy a person may be in his life, if he were asked, "Would you prefer to be a rock rather than a human being?", his answer would be that he would rather suffer and be a human being than be a rock. Whatever be the condition of a man's life, if he were asked, "Would you rather be a tree than a man?", he would choose to be a human being. And although the life of the birds and beasts is so free from care and troubles, so free in the forest, yet if a man were asked whether he would prefer to be one of them and be in the forest, he would surely prefer to be a man. This shows that when human life is compared with the other different aspects of life it proves its greatness and its privilege, but when it is not compared with them man is discontented and his eyes are closed to the privilege of being human.
Another thing is that man is mostly selfish, and what interests him is that which concerns his own life. Not knowing the troubles of the lives of others he feels the burden of his own life even more than the burden of the whole world. If only man in his poverty could think that there are others who are poorer than he, in his illness that there are others whose sufferings are perhaps greater than his, in his troubles that there are others whose difficulties are perhaps greater than his! Self-pity is the worst poverty. It overwhelms man and he sees nothing but his own troubles and pains, and it seems to him that he is the most unhappy person in the world, more so than anyone else.
A great thinker of Persia, Saadi, writes in an account of his life, "Once I had no shoes, I had to walk barefoot in the hot sand, and I thought how very miserable I was. Then I met a man who was lame, for whom walking was very difficult. I bowed down at once to heaven and offered thanks that I was much better off than he who had not even feet to walk upon." This shows that it is not a man's situation in life, but his attitude towards life that makes him happy or unhappy. This attitude can even make such a difference between men that one living in a palace could be unhappy and another living in a humble cottage could be very happy. The difference is only in the horizon that one sees: one person looks only at the condition of his life, another looks at the lives of many people; it is a difference of horizon.
Beside this, the impulse that comes from within has its influence on one's affairs: there is an influence always working from within. If it is a discontent and dissatisfaction in life, one finds its effect in one's affairs. For instance, a person impressed by illness can never be cured by a physician or medicines. A person impressed by poverty will never get on in life. A person who thinks, "Everybody is against. me, everybody troubles me, everybody has a poor opinion of me", wherever he goes will always find that it is so. There are many people in the world - in business, in professions who before going to their work bear in their mind as a first thought, "Perhaps I shall not be successful."
The masters of humanity, in whatever period they came to the world, always taught faith as man's first lesson to learn: faith in success, faith in love, faith in kindness, and faith in God. This faith cannot be developed unless man is self-confident. It is very essential that man should learn to trust another. If he does not trust anyone, life will be hard for him. If he doubts, if he suspects everyone he meets, then he will not trust the people nearest to him in the world, his closest relations, and this will soon develop to such a state of distrust that he will even distrust himself. But the trust of the one who trusts another and does not trust himself is profitless. It is he who trusts another because he trusts himself who has the real trust, and by this trust in himself he can make his life happy in whatever condition he may be.
In the traditions of the Hindus there is a well-known idea: that of the tree of the fulfillment of desires. There is a story in India of a man who was told that there was a tree of the fulfillment of desires, and who went in search of it. After going through forests and across mountains he arrived at last at a place where he lay down and slept without knowing that the tree of the fulfillment of desires was there. Before he went to sleep he was so tired that he thought, "What a good thing it would be if I had just now a soft bed to rest upon and a beautiful house with a courtyard around it and a fountain, and people waiting on me!" With this thought he went to sleep, and when he opened his eyes from sleep he saw that he was lying in a soft bed, and there was a beautiful house and a courtyard and a fountain, and there were people waiting on him. He was very much astonished and remembered that before going to sleep he had thought of all that. But then, as he went further on his journey and thought about this subject, he found, "The tree that I was looking for - it was under that tree that I slept, and it was the miracle of the tree that was accomplished."
The interpretation of this legend is a philosophy in itself. It is man himself who is the tree of fulfillment of his desire, and the root of this tree is in the heart of man. The trees and plants with their fruits and flowers, the beasts with their strength and power, and the birds with their wings are unable to arrive at the stage which man can attain. The trees in the forest await that blessing, that freedom, that liberation in stillness, in quietude; the mountains and the whole of nature seem to await that unfoldment, the privilege of which is given to man. That is why the traditions say that man is made in the image of God. Thus one may say that the most fitting instrument for the working of God is the human being; from a mystical point of view, one may also say that the Creator takes the heart of man as His means of experiencing the whole creation.
That shows that no being on earth is more capable of happiness, of satisfaction, of joy, of peace, than man and it is a pity when man is not aware of this privilege of being human. Every moment in life that he passes in this error of unawareness is a waste and is to his greatest loss.
Man's greatest privilege is to become a suitable instrument of God, and until he knows this he has not realized his true purpose in life. The whole tragedy in the life of man is his ignorance of this fact. From the moment a man realizes this he lives the real life, the life of harmony between God and man. When Jesus Christ said, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God", this teaching was an answer to the cry of humanity: some crying, "I have no wealth", others crying, "I have no rest", others crying, "My situation in life is difficult", "My friends are troubling me", or, "I want a position, wealth." The answer to them all is, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you."
How can we understand this from a practical, a scientific point of view? All that is external is not in direct connection with you and is therefore unattainable in many cases. Therefore sometimes you can attain your wish, but many times you fail. By seeking the kingdom of God you seek the center of all that is within and without, and all that is in heaven and on earth is directly connected with the center. So, from the center, you are able to reach all that is on earth and in heaven but, when you reach what is not at the center, all may be snatched away from you.
In the Quran it is written, "God is the light of the heavens and of the earth." Beside the desire to obtain the things of the earth there is that innermost desire, unconsciously working at every moment of life, to come into touch with the Infinite. When a painter is painting, when a musician is singing or playing, if he thinks, "It is my painting, my playing, my music", perhaps he has some satisfaction but it is like a drop in the ocean. If he connects his painting, his music, with the consciousness of God, if he thinks, "It is Thy painting, Thy music, not mine", then he connects himself with the center, and his life becomes the life of God.
There is much in life that one can call good, and there is much to be contented with; there is much that one can admire, if one can only bring about that attitude, and it is that attitude that can make man contented and his life happy.
Another thing is that God is the painter of all this beautiful creation, and if we do not connect ourself with the painter we cannot admire his painting. When one goes to the house of a friend whom one likes and admires, every little thing is so pleasant, but when one goes to the house of an enemy, everything is disagreeable. So our devotion, or love, our friendship for God can make this whole creation a source of happiness to us. In the house of a dear friend a loaf of bread, a glass of milk is most delicious, and in the house of the one we dislike all the best dishes are useless. As soon as one begins to realize that the many mansions in the house of the Father are this world with its many religions, many races, many nations, which yet are in the house of God then, however humble and difficult our situation in life, it must sooner or later become happier and better; for we feel that we are in the house of the One we love and admire, and all that we meet with we take with love and gratitude, because it comes from the One we love.
Think for a moment of the condition of the world just now: how nations, communities, churches, religions, all divide humanity - the children of one Father who loves them all without distinction! Man with all his claims of civilization, of progress, seems to have fallen into the greatest error. For centuries the world has not been in such a state as it is just now: one nation hating another, looking with contempt on another. What can we call it? Is it progress, or is it stand-still? Or is it worse than that? Is this not the time when thinking souls should open their eyes from sleep and devote themselves to the effort of doing what good they can to humanity in order to better the conditions of the world and, when each one is thinking only of his own interest, to think of the interest of all?
Sufism brings to the world the message of unity, of uniting in the Fatherhood of God beyond all differences and distinctions. The chief object of the Sufi is to bring about a friendly understanding between people of different nations and races, to bring people of different religions closer together in one understanding, the understanding of truth.
One may ask, "Is it then not the message of Christ which brought the tiding of the love of God and the unity of mankind in the love of God?" There cannot be two religions, there is always one religion only and there cannot be a new one, as Solomon said that there is nothing new under the sun. Whenever the message of love and wisdom is given it is not a new religion, it is the revivification of religion, in order to bring to man the realization of the truth of the religion he follows. Sufism therefore does not bring a new religion, it brings that life and light which are necessary to revivify that religion that has always existed.
|
to show the text.
Search
Print Format
Selected topics