Thursday, July 30, 2009
One Call
After Thursday's night Islamic Documentaries (Hijab: An Act of Faith) the phone rang. The caller wanted to know how often this program is shown and when. So I told her we're into the 4th year and it's on every Thursday from 7-8 p.m. Asked her what caused her to call and she said the guy (Baba Ali) with his marriage advice. Yeah he's seriously "funny." Anyhow I asked her of what religious persuasion was she and it was Hinduism. And your age? 19. And extremely well spoken too. She said "Hey, I will watch next week...and will get my mom to sit with me too." haha. So we chatted a while about the history of the program and its effect on persons of all faiths. Yep. All faiths have shown their appreciation...just think about it...an Islamic program that manages to open friendly dialogue with persons of other religions. These out-of-the-blues calls (hundreds over the years) have been the stimulant that keeps this program going. Hey thanks a lot to this caller and the hundreds over the time-span of ID. May God bless you all...and can I add "me" in there too!!! hahaha
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Memory of a Birth
by Ian McDonald Modern man has miraculous powers. He flies to the moon and soars beyond the sun. He creates wonder after wonder. His inventive capacity seems limitless. Yet if tomorrow any man designed and built a computer infinitely more powerful and complex than any that now exists he would instantly be awarded a Nobel Prize for Science.
Or if any man constructed a pump that could run without stopping, beating 80 times a minute, without a hitch, for 80 years and more he would be honoured as the greatest engineer, the greatest inventor, the world has seen.
Yet any time a child is born – in shining home or meanest slum – just such marvels are created. Indeed, infinitely more than that. For it is not only the brain and heart of a new-born child that are miraculous and well beyond the wit of man’s invention. Every intricate part that makes up the child is incomparably beautiful, crafted to a stunning perfection. And beyond the miracle of the parts is the much greater miracle of the whole that is greater than the parts – what some call mind and others personality and others soul or spirit.
To be involved with a birth is to be involved with a thousand miracles. Whatever one achieves in life pales into insignificance beside the creation of a child. Mothers know this best, it is their unshakable secret. But a man can feel it too when a child of his is born and suddenly, for a blinding moment, he claims an insight into one of the very few achievements that really matter in life.
He is also bound to feel a small but triumphant satisfaction that here is proof that he has found a way to outlive his own mortality. Thomas Hardy put it exactly in his poem ‘Heredity’:
I am the family face;
Flesh perishes, I live on,
Projecting trait and trace,
Through time to time anon,
And leaping from place to place
Over oblivion.
The years – heired feature that can
In curve and voice and eye
Despise the human span
Of durance – that is I;
The eternal thing in man
That heeds no call to die.
The other day I was looking through old diaries and came across an account of the birth of my youngest son, now 20, and it brought back such vivid memories. Near Christmas he was born in the midst of blackouts, floods, shortages, and a steadily increasing breakdown in public services throughout the country. Yet he was fortunate. The care he and his mother received at the Mercy Hospital, ancient then and broken down but a home of compassion and standards, more than compensated for the floodwater and the darkened windows and the city brought almost to a standstill. The nurses there had diplomas not only in nursing care but in the vital arts of understanding pain and anxiety. The warm concern and careful professionalism cultivated throughout that institution could give lessons in what hospital care is truly all about to more than one gleaming palace of the latest medical equipment that I have had the misfortune to know in rich countries.
When children are born, parents harbour great ambitions, we hope they will achieve success and happiness. But there is more than that we should desire.
Much that I wanted to say to him, as I looked at him in wonder in the first few weeks of life, was contained in a poem which the great cellist Pablo Casals jotted down long ago for the children he loved beyond even his great art:
When will we teach our children what they are?
One should say to each of them:
Do you know what you are? You are a marvel!
You are unique! In all the world there is no
other child exactly like you! In the millions
of years that have passed, there has never been
another child like you!
And look at your body, what a wonder it is!
Your legs, your arms, your curving fingers, the
way you move! You may become a Shakespeare, a
Michelangelo, a Beethoven, You have the capacity
for anything.
Yes, you are a marvel, and when you grow up,
can you harm another who is, like you, a marvel?
No, hurt no one, bring only the joy you can!
“No, hurt no one, bring only the joy you can!” I wrote that in my diary for him, still the best refrain I know.
Or if any man constructed a pump that could run without stopping, beating 80 times a minute, without a hitch, for 80 years and more he would be honoured as the greatest engineer, the greatest inventor, the world has seen.
Yet any time a child is born – in shining home or meanest slum – just such marvels are created. Indeed, infinitely more than that. For it is not only the brain and heart of a new-born child that are miraculous and well beyond the wit of man’s invention. Every intricate part that makes up the child is incomparably beautiful, crafted to a stunning perfection. And beyond the miracle of the parts is the much greater miracle of the whole that is greater than the parts – what some call mind and others personality and others soul or spirit.
To be involved with a birth is to be involved with a thousand miracles. Whatever one achieves in life pales into insignificance beside the creation of a child. Mothers know this best, it is their unshakable secret. But a man can feel it too when a child of his is born and suddenly, for a blinding moment, he claims an insight into one of the very few achievements that really matter in life.
He is also bound to feel a small but triumphant satisfaction that here is proof that he has found a way to outlive his own mortality. Thomas Hardy put it exactly in his poem ‘Heredity’:
I am the family face;
Flesh perishes, I live on,
Projecting trait and trace,
Through time to time anon,
And leaping from place to place
Over oblivion.
The years – heired feature that can
In curve and voice and eye
Despise the human span
Of durance – that is I;
The eternal thing in man
That heeds no call to die.
The other day I was looking through old diaries and came across an account of the birth of my youngest son, now 20, and it brought back such vivid memories. Near Christmas he was born in the midst of blackouts, floods, shortages, and a steadily increasing breakdown in public services throughout the country. Yet he was fortunate. The care he and his mother received at the Mercy Hospital, ancient then and broken down but a home of compassion and standards, more than compensated for the floodwater and the darkened windows and the city brought almost to a standstill. The nurses there had diplomas not only in nursing care but in the vital arts of understanding pain and anxiety. The warm concern and careful professionalism cultivated throughout that institution could give lessons in what hospital care is truly all about to more than one gleaming palace of the latest medical equipment that I have had the misfortune to know in rich countries.
When children are born, parents harbour great ambitions, we hope they will achieve success and happiness. But there is more than that we should desire.
Much that I wanted to say to him, as I looked at him in wonder in the first few weeks of life, was contained in a poem which the great cellist Pablo Casals jotted down long ago for the children he loved beyond even his great art:
When will we teach our children what they are?
One should say to each of them:
Do you know what you are? You are a marvel!
You are unique! In all the world there is no
other child exactly like you! In the millions
of years that have passed, there has never been
another child like you!
And look at your body, what a wonder it is!
Your legs, your arms, your curving fingers, the
way you move! You may become a Shakespeare, a
Michelangelo, a Beethoven, You have the capacity
for anything.
Yes, you are a marvel, and when you grow up,
can you harm another who is, like you, a marvel?
No, hurt no one, bring only the joy you can!
“No, hurt no one, bring only the joy you can!” I wrote that in my diary for him, still the best refrain I know.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Our Mouths...Our Speech...Silence
"It is better to sit alone than in company with the bad;
and it is better still to sit with the good than alone.
It is better to speak to a seeker of knowledge than to remain silent;
but silence is better than idle words" - Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him)
Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.
One of the biggest drains on our energy and emotion, and one of the greatest hindrances to peace, is our inability to be silent. For every situation in which we decide to hold our tongue or mind our own business, there are others where we let our heads be turned and join the chatter. We are constantly robbing ourselves of peace, because we choose to meddle in the affairs of others. We talk. We gossip. We twitter.
Those social networks have us in their vise-like grip.
And just consider: this mouth of ours would be clamped SHUT on the Day of Judgment.
Think deeply about that...
and it is better still to sit with the good than alone.
It is better to speak to a seeker of knowledge than to remain silent;
but silence is better than idle words" - Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him)
Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.
One of the biggest drains on our energy and emotion, and one of the greatest hindrances to peace, is our inability to be silent. For every situation in which we decide to hold our tongue or mind our own business, there are others where we let our heads be turned and join the chatter. We are constantly robbing ourselves of peace, because we choose to meddle in the affairs of others. We talk. We gossip. We twitter.
Those social networks have us in their vise-like grip.
And just consider: this mouth of ours would be clamped SHUT on the Day of Judgment.
Think deeply about that...
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
You and Me
You and me
Two hearts that melt and flow into infinity
We leave the world we know to voyage breathlessly
Our bed, the sea
And in its waves, just you and me
You and me
Free of wrong and right of old taboos and lies
And in our endless night
Come dreams and whispered sighs
Caressingly, to you and me
Through deserted hopes that we must hold anew
Love has filled our emptiness and waiting
The unprotected children that we were before
Turned into you and me
Reborn in love once more
Carry me beyond all doubt and fears
Of passion's fantasy
To God created spirits, desire's destiny
Made heavenly for you and me
When I had no faith, you taught me how to care
Giving me a second chance of living
Most words are only words
But your's become my prayer
My body and my soul, you echo everywhere
Pleasure me, until the early morning light
Make love to me
I hear your every turn
So all my days can be
Drowned in the sea, you and me
Two hearts that melt and flow into infinity
We leave the world we know to voyage breathlessly
Our bed, the sea
And in its waves, just you and me
You and me
Free of wrong and right of old taboos and lies
And in our endless night
Come dreams and whispered sighs
Caressingly, to you and me
Through deserted hopes that we must hold anew
Love has filled our emptiness and waiting
The unprotected children that we were before
Turned into you and me
Reborn in love once more
Carry me beyond all doubt and fears
Of passion's fantasy
To God created spirits, desire's destiny
Made heavenly for you and me
When I had no faith, you taught me how to care
Giving me a second chance of living
Most words are only words
But your's become my prayer
My body and my soul, you echo everywhere
Pleasure me, until the early morning light
Make love to me
I hear your every turn
So all my days can be
Drowned in the sea, you and me
Friday, July 10, 2009
Face the Test
A life not put to the test; a life without obstacles to overcome, is hardly worth living. Growth is only possible in adversity; through battles fought and won. The enemy has to be confronted and overcome. If we get driven to our knees by the enemy (and by enemy is here meant the lower
passions - the lower mind), we have lost the battle through lack of will power and Faith. This is cowardice which, out of spiritual laziness, chooses undisturbed tranquility. When heaven is about to impose an important office upon a man, it first embitters his heart in its purpose; it
causes him to exert his bones and sinews; it lets his body suffer hunger; it inflicts upon him want and poverty, and confounds his undertakings. In this way it stimulates his heart, steels his nature, and supplies that of which the man would be incapable.
passions - the lower mind), we have lost the battle through lack of will power and Faith. This is cowardice which, out of spiritual laziness, chooses undisturbed tranquility. When heaven is about to impose an important office upon a man, it first embitters his heart in its purpose; it
causes him to exert his bones and sinews; it lets his body suffer hunger; it inflicts upon him want and poverty, and confounds his undertakings. In this way it stimulates his heart, steels his nature, and supplies that of which the man would be incapable.
Monday, July 6, 2009
True Happiness
To maintain an unchangeable sweetness of disposition, to think only thoughts that are pure and gentle, and to be happy under all circumstances,- such blessed conditions and such beauty of character and life should be the aim of all, and particularly so of those who wish to lessen the misery of the world. If anyone has failed to lift themselves above ungentleness, impurity, and unhappiness, they are greatly deluded if they imagine they can make the world happier by the propagation of any theory or theology. Someone who is daily living in harshness, impurity, or unhappiness is day by day adding to the sum of the world’s misery; whereas someone who continually lives in goodwill, and does not depart from happiness, is day by day increasing the sum of the world’s happiness, and this independently of any religious beliefs which these may or may not hold.
That Other World...It's where we wanna be...
Yusuf Islam in that soothing voice of his driving home an important point...the Hereafter...
I have dreamt of a place and time,where nobody gets annoyed,
But I must admit I'm not there yet but Something's keeping me going
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Open up o world and let me in,
Then there'll be a new life to begin
I have dreamt of an open world,
Borderless and wide
Where the people move from place to place
And nobody's taking sides
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Open up a world and let me in,
Then there'll be A new life to begin
I've been waiting for that moment
To arrive
All at once the palace of peace
Will fill My eyes - how nice!
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Open up o world and let me in,
Then there'll be A new life to begin
I've been waiting for that moment
To arrive
All at once the wrongs of the world,
Will be put right - how nice!
I have dreamt of a place and time,where nobody gets annoyed,
But I must admit I'm not there yet but Something's keeping me going
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Open up o world and let me in,
Then there'll be a new life to begin
I have dreamt of an open world,
Borderless and wide
Where the people move from place to place
And nobody's taking sides
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Open up a world and let me in,
Then there'll be A new life to begin
I've been waiting for that moment
To arrive
All at once the palace of peace
Will fill My eyes - how nice!
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Maybe there's a world that I'm still to find
Open up o world and let me in,
Then there'll be A new life to begin
I've been waiting for that moment
To arrive
All at once the wrongs of the world,
Will be put right - how nice!
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Arrogant Man
All too often arrogance accompanies strength (organizational strength), and we must never assume that justice is on the side of the strong. The use of raw unbridled power must always be accompanied by moral choice.
When one expresses love, strangely their love is not extraordinarily arrogant or irrational. But the moment they express their displeasure (even once) they are irrational and arrogant, as if their worldview counts for nothing.
It's as when God expressed his displeasure at the Prophet (p) for ignoring the one who was blind...was God arrogant? Was God's displeasure so TOTAL that the Prophet's magnanimous character traits then counted for nothing over one incident?
And the Prophet (p) gracious as he was did express displeasure on several occasions that demanded it. All in the "reaction" that determines what we're made of...I wonder when the Prophet (p) was angry, WHAT WAS HE MADE OF?
It's good to know that were God to leave the non-arrogant ones on the earth there will be NONE. So I have some work, much work, to do...to head to that elusive goal of PERFECTION...knowing fully well it's God's mercy and that alone that brings such.
So an arrogant and irrational man sits like Buddha in his office cell, an innocent man in a living hell, his thoughts clanging like a church bell, from the extraordinary heights he FELL...
When one expresses love, strangely their love is not extraordinarily arrogant or irrational. But the moment they express their displeasure (even once) they are irrational and arrogant, as if their worldview counts for nothing.
It's as when God expressed his displeasure at the Prophet (p) for ignoring the one who was blind...was God arrogant? Was God's displeasure so TOTAL that the Prophet's magnanimous character traits then counted for nothing over one incident?
And the Prophet (p) gracious as he was did express displeasure on several occasions that demanded it. All in the "reaction" that determines what we're made of...I wonder when the Prophet (p) was angry, WHAT WAS HE MADE OF?
It's good to know that were God to leave the non-arrogant ones on the earth there will be NONE. So I have some work, much work, to do...to head to that elusive goal of PERFECTION...knowing fully well it's God's mercy and that alone that brings such.
So an arrogant and irrational man sits like Buddha in his office cell, an innocent man in a living hell, his thoughts clanging like a church bell, from the extraordinary heights he FELL...
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