23 - On Retreat

Yes, it has really happened, "Years of dreaming, of yearning for the cave. ... alone at last in the wilderness; the rocks, the gurgling water echoing the wind, the sun pouring its magnanimity upon this body near seventy. exulting in the merging with its ground, mother earth at her most ravishing". These cells, the sequel to those of the body of Pir-o-Murshid and of that lovely being, my mother; so beautiful, so tender, so fragile, contrasting with the majesty of that king of kings. Yes, that king of kings.


Today, it is fifty-nine years since he left his physical shroud of which I am carrying a little cell that has proliferated a lot, merged with the cells of my mother. I also carry something of his manner of thinking, more so of his feeling, particularly when I think of him most intensely, as I do now. How he longed for the wilderness comes through clearly in his plays: "The Bogey Man", "The Living Dead", "Una", and in the paeans of joy as he mused on nature in the Gayan-Vadan-Nirtan. In the last days of his life, he gave vent to his nostalgia for the way of the anchorite as he encountered one on the banks of the Jumna. He said, "This is what I would have done if I had not come to the West, but I was called upon to demonstrate that one can maintain God consciousness in the middle of the activities of the world."

Why then. the impelling, ever recurring dream of the cave? I ask myself this as I exult in the night chill in the welcome warmth of the wood fire in the cave I have so longed for. It occurs to me that the glow of the sun I had enjoyed a few hours ago, the initial outburst of the big bang, is vouchsafed to me in the depths and darkness of my rocky reclusion by the bodies of the trees that have stored that mighty effulgence better than I can, kindling yet more light in my aura. So what am I escaping from? Is it an escape from the very thing these logs are doing for me, from the goodies of life, making life beautiful in the nitty gritty? To pursue practical well-being, one would need to involve oneself in life. But one needs to balance the giving out of energy in one's worldly pursuits by rekindling. replenishing oneself at the source. For a short spell, it is not an escape, but a very necessary rededication. Pir-o-Murshid may have lived longer if he had taken the opportunity to fulfill his dream and I am now graced with this opportunity, fifty-nine years hence. What a grace!

This is therapy. Life communicates life, especially in the silence, aloneness, the solitude. And what of the internal energy emerging to resonate with the energy accruing from nature? The dhikr dialogues with space itself has lost its meaningfulness.

I mused upon Buddha on retreat and imagined how he would have loved to have a computer in the wilderness (pure conjecture).

While sitting in rapture amongst the glistening cascades and pools, the rocks incandescent in the sun, the cacti, I reached beyond the physical scene and it occurred to me that the more breathtakingly beautiful nature is, the more splendid can one imagine the fullness of reality behind it. Remembering how it looked, I could now off-set my consciousness out of the physical perspective. To do this, I had to let myself go and lose myself in the rocks and water, wind and sun, to step beyond. The consequence was that my sense of identity got totally shifted. At those rare moments, one occupies a vast space, and identifies with the universe. One can watch one's body and mind as one identifies with a reality of a different nature to these. I tried not to attach a label to the new reality by calling it intelligence, because I did not want to slip back into a mind trip. As soon as one calls off the activity of consciousness and meditation, one can see oneself clearly as not being either body or mind. However much some thoughts struck me as being relevant, I kept grasping the intelligence behind it all. Actually, there are several layers of the mind. If one lets go of the commonplace layer, an archetypal layer takes over.

Remembering how the mind thinks ordinarily, I dismissed my mind. and proceeded without objective or motivation, identifying myself with my higher self. By imagining the splendor behind the rocks, the flowers and the stars, one discovers that very splendor in one's own being. Gradually, every aspect of one's being that has become jaded becomes dispelled, until one literally becomes that splendor. I asked myself, "Is splendor what we experience of the heavens, magnified up there, or are we creating it out of the latencies within ourselves by the act of glorification?"

It became clear to me that one cannot dismiss one's ego personality in order to reach into the transcendental areas of one's being; one needs to sanctify it, then it is easier to tow it along with one in one's high quest. Idiosyncrasies get set in and become nearly indelible. Only spiritual power will transform beyond recognition. At a certain stage in the process, spiritual power comes through, surprisingly. Spiritual power arises out of developing the magnetism of the soul, which in time, arises out of the emotion of the soul. The emotion of the heart, lovely as it is, links one to the world.

The magnetism of the soul is other worldly. It represents a value beyond life that moves all things. overriding the emotion of the heart, great and beautiful as the heart's emotion certainly is. To develop the magnet-ism of the soul is for the few because it means giving up attachments and their accompanying concerns, which is most challenging to our humanness. This signifies renunciation which is undoubtedly the way of the ascetic. I know.... and yet we are preaching fulfillment, accomplishment, unfoldment, which means involvement. Can one ever reconcile these two irreconcilables? I wish I had the answer. To honor one's personal loves, one covets worldly power: as the protector, the patron. the provider. To develop spiritual power, one needs to give up thoughts stirred by human emotions. Then one asks oneself, "Who am I?" And one watches one's involvement objectively. Now one can discriminate between acting when motivated by attachment or by a sense of responsibility and dedication.

In this perspective, one understands so well what Pir O Murshid and the Sufi dervishes said in moments of cosmic consciousness: The soul of a king, but one's self-image that has accrued to one, owing to one's ancestral Inheritance, is the source of all weakness. "Here lies the secret" One is cosmic, but one thinks that one is inadequate because one is impressed by the evidence of the body and the mind. Should one dismiss this identity, the change that occurs proves quite unbelievable.

Of course, I am, you are, the being of God, however constricted, spoliated, degraded at the jagged ends. But one needs to distinguish between that aspect of one which is the Knower and the Creator (I means God knowing Himself through that focalization of His consciousness that is one's own consciousness, and by manifesting His nature transpiring through one's personality) and that aspect of oneself that is the means to fulfill this. Both are God, but the second one is a deterioration of the being of God. That is why Ibn 'Arabi says, "He Is both the Seer and that through which He sees, but know whereby thou art God and whereby thou art not God."
