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A heart-based fast was not what I had in mind on my first Ramadan. All I could think about was not eating and drinking. It came not long after a deeply intuited certainty around taking Shahada, but this new relationship with Allah brought the pillar of fasting, only understood at a very basic level.
My whole connection to Islam felt very undeveloped, and I found myself still yearning, seeking for the mode of expression that resonated more fully with my heart. I am grateful for all the women’s group companions, friends and family who supported me then, but something deeply internal was still missing. I now see that I had met the level of shari’ah but was seeking tariqah (see The Mysterion, Kabir Helminski, p. 80). At some point, long before coming to know Threshold, Al-Ghazali’s book, Inner Dimensions of Islamic Worship, found me, and in this was a soul-language that moved me. I opened the chapter on fasting and was introduced to there being three grades (p. 75):
Ordinary fasting: abstaining from food, drink and sexual satisfaction;
Special fasting: keeping one’s ears, eyes, tongue, hands and feet – and all other organs – free from sin;
Extra-special fasting: fasting of the heart from unworthy concerns and worldly thoughts, in total disregard of everything but God. This kind of fasting is broken by thinking of anything other than God and the Hereafter, by thinking of worldly matters except those conducive to religious ends since these constitute provision for the Hereafter…. To this third degree belong the Prophets, the true saints and the intimates of God.
Alhamdulillah, during the following Ramadans, the wisdom behind these first two levels increasingly resonated. I found a real desire to use the month to reflect, deepen my self-awareness, work on life-long habits like criticism and overeating, and grew a prayer to be:
A perfect Muslim (is one) from whose tongue and hands mankind is safe.
[Saying of Muhammad (peace be upon him), The Knowing Heart, Kabir Helminski]
But the third grade of fasting seemed to belong to those beloved souls in a very different, almost incomprehensible realm. So, year after year, I put my attention on the first two grades whilst as good as dismissing the third as not for me.
This Ramadan the invitation to reflect on the April theme came, and I immediately went to Al-Ghazali, still a go-to book, little remembering until I opened the pages that the words of the theme were his. This stopped me in my tracks. I was being asked to reflect on that which I had passed over. What a challenge and beautiful gift. So now I am slowing down, re-reading these words and feeling for a heartfelt response. I approach it with some nervousness, and hear the nafs’ voice, ‘How can you even contemplate a state that is belonging to the prophets, the true saints and the intimates of God?’ And somewhere inside comes a curious voice, not yet able to answer, but willing to open to what may be shown. I find a real valuing of how my sense of taqwa, God consciousness, has grown over these fifteen years, and how the recurring month of Ramadan shines a light on my internal shifts.
Yet I am being offered more: the heart-based fast in total disregard of everything but God. And I feel glimpses of understanding, flickers of light alongside continuing doubt, that my self can comprehend this.
And then my heart says to my nafs, ‘I am more alive this Ramadan: I experience the lightness when this body is fasting; I sing when reading:
Our original food is the Light of God.
Living on material food alone is not for us…
[The Rumi Daybook, trans. Kabir and Camille Helminski]
‘I feel so grateful for these extra Ramadan sohbets with dear friends, and for the deepening love and gratitude to Allah through studying the roots of Quranic words; I am expanding more in meditation, prayer and zhikr – spaces that keep returning me to the immense blessings from my Rabb since last Ramadan: the inner and outer journeys with Hazrati Shams and Hazrati Mevlana, with our beloved Prophet (peace be upon him) and the subsequent new found joy of reciting the salawat, with Allah on pilgrimage (Umrah), at gatherings with our dear teachers and friends – all these experiences feel deeply lodged in this heart.’
And heart keeps sharing: ‘I realise there is hope when turning to Allah with the pain of witnessing the suffering and horrors in this external world, bringing my questions, pleas, prayers for guidance – where else to go?’
Oh, my goodness, is that the time, I must go and… (a list of tasks flows in), I need to check my phone, I must… and the nafs takes over with its customary flitting and distractions and desire to control.
But heart doesn’t want to be constricted and comes back into the conversation. Such patience and endurance rest with the heart, quietly waiting for reconnection, presence. Heart says: ‘I feel surges of pure love and happiness at being able to break fast with family and friends; I hear my mother tongue when reading the Masnavi before fajr prayers (a commitment this Ramadan); I notice coming into presence with Nature in more everyday moments, inspiring me to creativity.’
And in acknowledging these and so many more wonderful blessings, I find trust in how our Rabb is fostering gentle transformation, giving guidance, showing intimacy. I still see my concerns with the outer world, but gradually with His/Her grace there is a sense of less separation from Allah, more love and Light. And a prayer is made for this increased heart presence to continue beyond Ramadan.
And I am filled with tears, awe and gratitude.
~ Steffie is a novice on the path of Love, Beauty and Remembrance, and a member of the Manchester UK Threshold Group. She loves sharing her awe of Nature through ‘Art for the Soul’ creative workshops, as part of Steffie’s Arts Space. |
