About a week after this year’s holy month of Ramadan began, a girlfriend and I started comparing notes on what Ramadan means to us. She’s Palestinian-American and mostly a non-practicing Muslim. Her parents never fasted when she was growing up and her experience of Ramadan is a minor inconvenience to her life that happens once a year if she happens to be in Palestine. In contrast, I have strong emotional and illogical reactions when Ramadan comes around each year. If I’m able to spend that month outside of the Arab world during that time, then I can maintain an emotional indifference quite comfortably. However, this year’s work calendar mandated that I be fully, physically present in Palestine, in the most holy city of Jerusalem, for most of this very sacred month.
As Muslims may anticipate the month by fitting in all of their social activities that are unsanctioned during Ramadan during the month prior, I started anticipating my emotional response well in advance of August 1st, this year’s first day of fasting. I knew I was going to feel lonely. I knew I was going to feel resentful. I knew I was going to feel completely inconvenienced by the change in routine. Such strong feelings on the part of a non-Muslim required some deeper analysis: what was provoking this reaction and why does it reoccur most predictably like the phases of the moon that determine the month’s calendar?
Ramadan is difficult to sit-out even as a non-Mulsim in the Arab world. So I decided if I had to spend the month here, I better get very clear about the nostalgia that it provoked in me. I started with a tour labeled “Ramadan rituals” that took me through the nighttime neighborhoods of tour of Jerusalem’s old city. Seeing the traditional sweets laid out on display in the narrow alleyways and watching the faithful crowd against the walls en route to their evening prayers, the unique mix of sanctity and festivity that marks Ramadan returned quickly to my heart.
The tour guide spoke to us of how Ramadan is not simply about a physical fast, but it is also about fasting from desire in all forms, physical and mental. As the faithful empty themselves of desire, they become more God- like and closer to faith and understanding of how God is the provider of all needs.
As I thought about these words, and my rollercoaster of emotions of desire for a different present, I made a decision right then and there that I would immediately begin a mental fast from desire. Anytime I caught myself wound up in mental thoughts of desire, I would stop the clamorous thoughts, and see if the faith did indeed bring me closer to a state of godliness. This fast from desire came at a critical time: I was caught up in the desire for a romantic relationship, I was caught up in the desire of different job circumstances, and I was caught up in the desire for everybody else’s life but my own.
Powerful lessons came to heart:
1. Fasting from Desire brings faith and acceptance
When I would find my thoughts running through states of desire, also better known as obsession, worry, and non-stop mental chatter, I would pause, tell myself that I was relinquishing desire and almost immediately I would feel a deeper sense of peace draw into the center of my being. Then I heard myself calmly telling this greater, peaceful self, “It is OK, have faith, God has provided everything you need and have asked for.” The response I heard my heart’s voice spoke then said, “And I have had heard your deepest desires, and they will become your reality. Have Faith. “ For somebody who has laughed at religion, faith and spirituality in its face for well over 10 years, this all feels a little silly to admit in black and white. And then the voice would say even more clearly, “Do you not have everything you need?” A smile would draw upon my face immediately and I became overwhelmed with feelings of gratitude: gratitude for the roof over my head, gratitude for my bank account with plenty of money, gratitude for the silence surrounding my evenings, gratitude for the ears of friends who take the time to listen to my desires and gratitude for living and working in such an interesting place. Yes, I would say, THIS IS all I need! And the peace came from an acceptance of all the circumstances in my life at this moment.
2. Ramadan is a time to enjoy the company of loved ones
After passing a week in the slower routine and loneliness of the initial days of Ramadan, when the meal that breaks the fast is celebrated mostly among relatives here, the invitations for Iftar began to pour in. I promised myself that I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to be well fed and enjoy the special meal with anybody who invited me. One invitation was from a fellow-Jerusalemite who I hadn’t seen in ages. She apologized for not making enough food (if a Palestinian serves anything less than 8 different dishes at a sitting, it is considered inadequate). But my physical appetite was quickly satisfied and as we sat catching up on the ebb and flow of each other’s lives, so was my appetite for company satisfied. Day after day I repeated the routine in the homes of friends. It was quickly apparent why such nostalgia about Ramadan will always be with me.
3. Memories of seasons past remind us of spiritual evolution
My first Ramadan memories are well over 14 years old. It makes me feel old to write about how many years have passed. In many ways it feels like yesterday. That causes me to reflect on all the changes since that time – singlehood to marriage to motherhood to divorce to singlehood again. Or, curiously naïve to awakened senses to heartbreak to self-discovery. So many journeys we take over the years, even as annual rituals come and go. In fact, Ramadan is unique in that as it moves through the calendar year by 10 days each successive year. Marking the passing of Ramadan actually as it circles around the calendar each year means that one does not get caught up in typical associations and patterns of life when the holy season comes around each year. Distinctively new memories are formed each year. My first experiences of Ramadan was short, winter days, accompanied by near- freezing nights, now the experience of Ramadan during the long, hot days of August is very different. As are each of the cycles of our own lives.
4. There’s always the possibility of an unimagined future
As I mentioned because Ramadan passes through the calendar year, quickly there is the sense that next year, Ramadan will be different. And as each year passes, I know there is some ultimate growth in the person I’m becoming, even though it is rarely so obvious in the day to day. My analogy is if you’ve ever waited a long time between haircuts, your hair grows imperceptibly longer, until one day you realize that it reaches beyond your shoulders. Of course, there is growth, of course there is change – but when and how did it happen don’t seem to preoccupy us. And we feel….our hair is still our hair….we are still ourselves, even though….we are not. The routine and familiarity of all holy seasons give us the opportunity to reflect on this – reflecting backwards to also predict the uncertain changes that lay ahead.
5. Routines based on the sun give the gift of the present
There is no other time of the year, except during the month of Ramadan, when I am keenly aware of the passage of each day. In Ramadan, that passage is marked by the waxing and waning of the moon’s phases. Each day, each evening when the moon rises in the sky, the immediate thought is on this day – what day is it, how many days left of fasting, etc. How gradually the month comes to its close when you count each day individually. It is as if time slows – the work day is shortened, the nighttime hours are lengthened, and slowly, the only hour that really matters during the entire day is the time to break the fast. The rest of the time is minute by minute, day by day, until the month’s end. The gift of slowing down, feet firmly planted in the present is an opportunity to pay respect for the greater universe and the meaninglessness of time which somehow fosters the gratitude for this Ramadan – nostalgic for the many that came before and hopeful in the promise of many more to come.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment