Day 15

The Invitation

We Three (Rumi)

My love wanders the rooms, melodious,

flute notes, plucked wires,

full of a wine the Magi drank

on the way to Bethlehem.

We are three. The moon comes

from its quiet corner, puts a pitcher of water

down in the center. The circle

of surface flames.

One of us kneels to kiss the threshold.

One drinks, with wine-flames playing over his face.

One watches the gathering,

and says to any cold onlookers,

This dance is the joy of existence.

I am filled with you.

Skin, blood, bone, brain and soul.

There’s no room for lack of trust, or trust.

Nothing in this existence but that existence.

I woke up feeling twilight blue mixed with swaths of red. Due to a flare-up of an ongoing condition, I’ll not be fasting the rest of the month. That realization filled me with great frustration and upset and had me overdose on the tv show Army Wives whilst laying on the couch yesterday. Today the upset is mellowing into disappointment and acceptance. Ramadan has already been so powerful for me this year, and I so deeply cherish the experience of fasting for Allah and also the sense of solidarity with Muslims worldwide. Somehow not fasting feels like leaving the stream of the latter. In case it seems unclear to you, I <3 Ramadan! Though I grew up in the Christian tradition, and consequently did not experience Ramadan until I was 19, I have loved fasting since I was a child, looked forward to it really. Every Lent was precious to me because it brought with it the opportunity to fast.

So, what does Ramadan mean for those who are not able to fast? What significance does Ramadan have then? As mentioned in a previous post by Wazina, fasting from food and drink is simply one level of fasting. There are the deeper levels of the fast—fasting with the senses and the limbs, fasting of the heart. Those I can continue. I can feel the place in myself, the place of disappointment, that wants to act out a drama in which I fling myself, crying, to the ground in despair and lock myself away for the next two weeks. No more iftars, fewer masjid visits, etc. but that drama is just a reflection of sadness at not being able to do the full fast. My truth is that Ramadan is no less significant because I have to deal with a health issue. If anything, that makes me all the more eager to stay engaged inwardly and with community. And I know I’ll need help to do so. I’ll need my community to reach out to me if you see that suddenly I’ve stopped organizing us for an iftar, or don’t seem to be in the Ramadan spirit. I want to maintain the structure of Ramadan in my day to day, and to be a cheerleader for those who are doing the full fast.

I also had to remember that it isn’t a coincidence that I am having this flare-up now. This means somewhere in the experience, is blessing. I am absolutely certain of Allah’s generosity and lovingness—Ya Karim! Ya Wadud! The Quran reminds us time and again to be patient and steadfast with whatever Allah gives us. What if I were to consider not being able to do the full fast as an invitation to draw nearer? Yes, an invitation.

Thank you Allah, I accept.