Dear Yusuf,
Wa `alaykuma ‘s-salâm,
Thank you for a thought-provoking question about which much could be said.
I hope other members of this Discussion Group will also share their thoughts.
You are right about the metaphor of the mouse in Masnavi I: 379: soon after, Mawlana tells how the `ârif, or mystic knower, finds protection in God’s presence from this problem.
Since the mouse has made a hole in our barn, and our barn has been ravaged by its guile,
O soul, in the first place avert the mischief of the mouse and then show fervour (zeal) in garnering the corn.
Hear (one) of the sayings related from the Chiefest of the Chief (the Prophet): “No prayer is complete without' presence (concentration of the mind on God).”
If there is no thievish mouse in our barn, where is the corn of forty years’ works (of devotion)?
--trans. Nicholson, 1926
Sufism has much to teach about the purification of the base ego [nafs] which is full of self-centered worldly cravings. Mawlana Rumi, as a Sufi master, additionally teaches the importance of spiritual desire and yearning. He teaches us, as spiritual aspirants, to increase our feeling of neediness [neyâz] (“So increase (your) need at once, O needy one, so that the Sea of Generosity may surge forth in Benevolence”--2: 3280), which involves turning to God with our helplessness and weakness (and, you could add, our brokenness) and inability to help ourselves. To strive to help ourselves as if we were independent of God is traditionally viewed as pride and arrogance. And turning to God often involves repentance and turning away from sin.
Instead of religious terms, we can also use words such as “base cravings,” “bad habits,” and “addictions.” As a licensed doctoral level psychologist for many years, I sometimes met with individuals or groups of people who suffered from alcohol and drug dependence. In addition, examples of unusual cravings come to mind.
In a residential treatment center for the mentally ill, there was a woman who had the craving to cut herself with a razor blade in order to relieve herself from acute emotional distress. She kept a razor blade hidden in her room in case she had the “need” to use it, and knowing that it was available made her feel secure. In a prison, there was a former gynecology doctor who was locked up because he couldn’t resist touching women patients in a sexual manner. He not only had his medical license revoked but was sued for millions of dollars. And, more recently, in an institution for the mentally retarded, there was an autistic man who couldn’t resist the urge to destroy televisions by pouring water into them; sometimes he would urinate into electrical sockets and cause power problems.
Let us view desire in three ways: (1) extremely base cravings, (2) extremely spiritual yearnings, and (3) a mixture of worldly desires and spiritual aspirations.
An example of the first case is Rumi’s story of the woman who was addicted to sexual intercourse with a donkey; when her maidservant tried to imitate her, she didn’t know to use a protective device and so she died (Masnavi 5: 1333).
An example of the second case is Rumi’s story of the dervish who had a vision of the most hidden and exalted saints of God (Masnavi 3: 1924, 1945, 1982, 2295, 2301).
That Daqûqî had a fair front; he was a (spiritual) lord who loved (God) and possessed miraculous gifts.
He walked on earth as the moon in heaven: by him the spirits of the night- travellers became illumined.
. . . .
Notwithstanding such piety and devotions and (nights passed in) performance of the ritual prayer, he was always seeking the elect (the saints) of God.
In travel his chief object was that he might come in touch for a moment with an elect servant (of God).
Whilst he was going along the road, he would be saying, “O God, make me a companion of the elect.
O Lord, to those (saints) whom my heart knows I am a slave and one who has girt his loins and is ready to do (them) good service;
And (as for) those whom I know not, do Thou, O God of the soul, make them kindly disposed to me who am debarred (from knowing them).”
The Lord would say to him, “O most noble prince, what passion is this and what unquenchable thirst is this?
Thou hast My love: why art thou seeking other (than Mine)? When God is with thee, how dost thou seek man?”
. . . .
He (Daquqi) said, “One day I was going along like him that yearns, that I might behold in man the radiance of the Beloved,
That I might behold an ocean in a drop of water, a sun enclosed in a mote.”
He then had a vision of seven of the highest saints, who asked him to lead them in the (Islamic ritual) prayer. However, during the prayer he made an intercessory prayer to God that sailors on a sinking ship (whose shouts he heard) might be saved, and the seven saints disappeared because his acceptance of the Divine Will was not perfect.
During (many) years he continued to grieve for (the loss of) them; during (many) lifetimes he shed tears in longing for them.
. . . .
O Daquqi with (thy) streaming eyes, come, do not abandon hope: seek them
Come, seek (them), for search is the pillar (foundation) of fortune: every success consists in (depends on) fixing the heart (upon the object of desire).
Unconcerned with all the business of the world, keep saying with (all) thy soul ku ku* like the dove.
*I.e. “where? where?”
--trans. Nicholson, 1930
And an example of the third case is Rumi’s story of the man who had a voyeuristic sexual addiction who disguised himself as a woman so he could work as a shampooer in the women’s bath--even to shampoo a princess. Here is how Rumi introduced the story in the first heading (5: 2228):
Story explaining the repentance of Nasuh. As milk that flows from the teat never returns to the teat, so he who has repented like Nasuh will never think of that sin in the way of desire; nay, his loathing will increase continually, and that loathing is a proof that he has experienced the delight of being accepted (as a sincere penitent), and that the old lust has ceased to give delight, and that the former (delight) has established itself in the place of the latter, as it has been said (in verse): “Nothing breaks off (one) love except another love: why don’t you take a friend (who is) fairer than he?” And when his (the penitent's) heart desires to sin again, it is a sign that he has not experienced the delight of acceptance, and that the delight of acceptance has not superseded the delight of sin, and that he has not (yet) become (like the righteous of whom God saith), “We will surely dispose him to ease,” but that the (sinful) delight (spoken) of (in the text), “We will surely dispose him to hardships'” is still remaining in him.
1 I.e. “We will make it easy for him to enter Paradise” (Qur'an, XCII, 7).
2 I.e. “We will make it easy for him to enter Hell” (Qur'an XCII, 10).
--trans. Nicholson, 1934
After years of unsuccessful repentance, Nasuh was almost found out when the princess lost a jewel and the order was made to search everyone. Just before he was to be searched, he became “broken” and attained true repentance, the jewel was found, and he was saved.
He fell like a broken wall: his consciousness and understanding departed, he became like lifeless matter.
When his consciousness went without delay from his body, at that moment his inmost soul was united with God.
When he was emptied (of self) and his (self-)existence remained not, God called the falcon, his soul, into His presence.
When his ship was wrecked and every hope had failed, he was cast on the seashore of (Divine) Mercy.
His soul became united with God: at the moment when he lost consciousness the waves of Mercy began to surge.
When his soul was freed from the disgrace of the body, it went rejoicing towards its Origin.
--Masnavi 5: 2274-79
--trans. Nicholson
http://www.scribd.com/doc/18792131/THE-MATHNAWI-Book-5-6-RUMI
Ibrahim
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Dear Shaykh Ibrahim, as-salaamu alaykum:
I wonder whether Mevlana Rumi has anything to say about human brokenness. At the risk of a Christian resonance to what I am saying, I mean by this our insecurities, compulsions, and complexes — what needs to be healed in our humanity before we can advance as spiritual seekers.
In a way one might want to claim that the Masnevi is about nothing else, but I am not sure. I’m thinking here of the mention in Book I of the mouse that gnaws away at the storehouse of our deeds while we remain obliviousness, until nothing is left. The proposed cure for this, continuous consciousness of Allah (if I read the passage correctly), is sound enough, but a very, very high state. What about those of us who, albeit well-intended, remain in thrall to base impediments to advancement imposed by the things modern psychiatry would seek to cure, such as addictions?
I know that the Masnevi is not a modern self-help manual. But I also know it is meant to be read at many levels corresponding to many levels of seekers. What of those whose spiritual level is very low, even if the heart aspires to a much higher one?
I hope I am not asking of the Masnevi something it was never meant to address, but I have confidence in it. I also recognize that Mevlana’s narrative regarding our brokenness may be — probably is — far superior to that of modern psychology. What are your thoughts?
Wa-s-salaam,
Yusuf
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Dear Brother Iljas, as-salaamu alaykum:
Thank you for your kind suggestions. I agree that it would be a great boon to a Muslim struggling with problems of addiction to drugs or alcohol to have the help of a therapist on a spiritual path, as it were. This is a rare and precious thing. I have yet to meet such a person.
It is not my intention to substitute Mevlânâ for such a person. That would be both dangerous and a plain contravention of the ahwat of sharî'a, according to which it becomes wâjib to seek the intervention of a qualified physician to address medical problems rather than regarding them as purely and plainly spiritual, or deferring them solely to the care of the First Cause. It is true that Allâh is the One who heals, with medicine or without it, as Allâh chooses. This does not, in the view of the consensus of our scholars, preclude that we seek medical attention for medical matters — secondary causes remain our operative concern.
I think, as I reflect, that what I am inquiring about is the needs of the seeker whose heart is ill in a degree that makes entering the path premature. What sort of health of spirit and mind is prerequisite to our sulûk? And what does Mevlânâ have to say about it? This is the brokenness to which I refer.
Put differently, and in the spirit of regarding the Masnevi as tafsîr of the Qur’ân, one could ask what it is that is to be healed by Allâh in those verses that refer to shifâ, or healing, such as in Yûnus 10:57, reading:
There has come to you a counsel from your Lord, a healing balm for what is in hearts and guidance and universal mercy for believers.
What is it in hearts that needs healing? What is the nature of the illness? It might be called addiction in the broadest sense, such as addiction to others’ esteem and high regard (as opposed to the narrow sense of physiological dependency on particular chemical substances). It might be simply delusion, addiction to fancy or pervasive ignorance of the Divine Presence. We have only to look around ourselves to see it manifested, or look within to see that we crave many things other than Allâh, all of them probably god-like to us in our shirk. That is our brokenness.
The other âyât that refer to shifâ, by the way, are 9:13-16, 16:68-9, 17:76-92, 26: 75-90, and 41:44.
Wa’s-salaam,
Yusuf