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ince my experience the other day in traffic, I've been of two minds about work. In one sense I feel the pressure of responsibility and of meeting the expectations and demands of my clients, which represent the expectations and demands of life. And on the other hand I can still remember the freedom of detachment from worldly cares and stress, and yearn to slip back into that state. But I don't know how to reconcile the two. What seems clear is that regardless of how I feel about them, deadlines must still be met. But I'd rather meet them in good cheer, knowing that they are part of my role in life, but not being overtaken by their emotional toll.

The other night I worked late and felt everything was off and that so much pressure was building, I didn't know how to handle it. I got in bed with my favorite book of late, Hazrat Inayat Khan's Mastery, and found this little gem:

Tuning ourselves to the infinite is achieved by the way of silence, by the way of meditation, by the way of thinking of something which is beyond and above all things of this mortal world. By giving some moments of our life to the thought of getting in tune with that which is the source and goal of all of us, realizing that in that source alone is the secret of our happiness and peace.

The nature of being in tune with the infinite is this: comparing our soul to a string of an instrument, it is tied at both ends. One is the infinite, and the other is the finite. When a person is conscious all the time of the finite then he is tuned to the finite, while the one who is conscious of the infinite is tuned to the infinite. Being in tune with the former makes us limited, weak, hopeless, and powerless. But by being in tune with the latter we obtain the power and strength that will pull us through life in whatever adverse conditions may arise.

The work that a Sufi considers to be his sacred task has nothing to do with any particular creed, nor has it to do with any particular religion. It is only this simple thing: to be in rhythm with life's conditions and to be in tune with the infinite. And when one asks how one can arrive at being in accord with life instead of being frightened by life's conditions, the answer is: by meeting it and observing it keenly, and then by trying to harmonize oneself for the time being with that condition, while the next effort is to rise above it if it is an adverse one.

In my life no amount of organizers, calendars, and productivity software can give me the peace that my work is on track. But it's nice to find a real tool to use when I need one.

Posted by Satya at 2:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

y father is not a big talker. He doesn't make idle chit-chat. In fact, I'd say he only communicates what is necessary, and no more. This can lead to some amusingly abrupt phone conversations at times, but now that I'm grown up I feel like I understand him more, and have come to realize how much I take after him in a multitude of ways. I think I use more words in speech than he does (hey, that's not difficult), but a similar vein of silence runs through our generational gap.

More and more now, I seem to cultivate silence like a fine wine. That's why morning is my favorite time. M. is asleep with the dog, the cat lets out a few meows and purrs as I feed him breakfast, the coffee maker a sizzle or two. Other than that, a long and lovely silence stretches before me. I don't mind when it's broken later on by the activities of the day, but when it's on, it's on.

I'm getting my momentum back, here in my new life with a fiancé and a house that's daily becoming less strange and more ours. After morning prayer I set my timer for a few minutes and disappear into the silence. Sometimes it has a gentle motion to it, like how I'd imagine it feels to bound slowly across the moon in gravity boots. Sometimes I feel the singular quality of being alone with my God, though of course that's a sticky subject.

And silence has its own atmosphere when stretched from person to person, like when the whole ridiculousness of hurling through life with another catches up to you, which by the way, planning a marriage happens to exacerbate. There are many things M. and I can speak about and many that we can't. But sometimes you just have to shake your head and smile, and the silence conveys the unspoken.

Posted by Satya at 8:58 AM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)