my story of initiation
Continuing my chronicles of my thesis project, here is the story of my sufi initiation
It was 2003, when I first taisted Sufism. I stood about four and a half paces away from the Sheikha. She was sitting in meditation, with her legs tucked under her body and her eyes closed. As I looked upon her with my eyes, she was an image of peace and serenity. Therefore, I was surprised when I closed my eyes and felt what I could only describe as a pillar of blue flame, originating from that place where God dwells, filling her torso and shooting out the top of her head to fill the entire room. Had this sensation been any less intense, I would have been trembling with fear. Instead, I was completely awash with the intensity of the vision. As though I was a child floating in space next to a star, brilliant beyond imagination.
I reflected on how I had come to this place, standing before this gateway, at this time in my life. A few weeks earlier, I had received the invitation from a friend of mine to come out and see Sheikha Fariha, the head of his Sufi order. I received the invitation with a merely mildly interest. Or rather, I was very interested, but I felt that I had too many other things to do. Life was too busy. I could not find anyone else to go with me. I was too tired. I actually tried three times to not go to this meeting; a fact that made me laugh as I was opening the door to the meeting hall, 10 minutes late.
I entered a room full of people. They were listening to a woman with a white head covering, who by my eyes looked to be around 35 years old. I could not fathom how a Sufi master could be so young. This was my first impression of her. My next impression was that of shocking familiarity. I knew her from somewhere. But where? This was not some sort of dream recognition, nor was it a mystical or other worldly recognition. I have had those many times before and this was something else entirely. It was much more tangible; like an actual memory. I felt that I knew her name, as if we had been dear friends in this life, perhaps when I was a child. After I had a chance to move closer, I had my third first impression of her. This time, she looked much older, much wiser, much more like someone with authority within the mystical heart of a major world religion.
As the evening progressed, I began to feel a particular inner resistance, welling up from deep inside me. It filled me with fear and the pain of loss. I felt the sharp memory of betrayal. This feeling urged me to leave the building and to go somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was away from this place. Moment by moment, this feeling grew; but it was not alone. There was another sensation growing inside of me. It began the moment I saw the Sheikha and felt that I knew her. Like the feeling of uncomforted, this feeling began to intensify the longer I stayed in the room with the Sheikha. I could sense light of the Holy beginning to surround me. I could feel God looking at me, gazing into my heart and filling me with such an overwhelming sense of both love and recognition that I wanted to cry. I could see that God had brought me here and that I was standing at the threshold of great change.
After the talk, the Sheikha led the group in a short Zhikr. The ceremony included singing, rhythmic movements, and intentional prayers. Throughout the Zhikr both feelings, the feeling of betrayal/fear and the feeling of love/recognition, increased to new levels of intensity. Each feeling acted as a mirror of the other. The tension between these two forces threatened to tear my very soul apart. I closed my eyes and saw myself burst unto flames, much like the vision I would see of the Sheikha in the moments to come, except that my flames were bright orange. Their source was pure, however, they were met with my own inner impurities and resistances. This caused the flames to flicker and spark as they sought to consume the painful darkness within me.
When the Zhikr was over, I was hopeful that the inner feeling of fear and betrayal would not return. I was no stranger to this feeling. Nearly 10 years before, I became aware that it had always been with me, always hiding in the shadows, always singing the song of mistrust and disunity. It felt that it had been wronged by God, punished for no reason other than existing. Therefore, it would continually seek ways to subvert my happiness in my life. My response was to seek out various spiritual healers and teachers who could help me get rid of this inner demon. This lead to my eventual practicing, then teaching, within the healing traditions of Shamanism, Reiki and Kaballah. I led or participated in dozens of powerful healings and ceremonies over the years. Each one brought me a deeper understanding of the relationship I had with this demon and why it was part of my life. Many of the experiences promised to cut the bond that tied the demon me and to heal the rift that its presence caused in the core of my being. However, none of these rituals, or any of my prayers, or any other attempt I made to end this torment would work for very long. The inner demon would always return.
True to this pattern, the feeling of fear and betrayal returned within moments after the Zhikr ended. Like a wounded animal, it came to me with a renewed sense of vigor and demanded that I leave the building. I knew the Zhikr had affected it, but I felt helpless and unable to relieve myself of this burden. I had spent nearly a decade seeking a cure and now, as if I never began my quest, I stood naked and powerless in the face of this demon.
It was at this point that Sheikha Fariha announced that the third phase of the evening was about to begin. This was a ritual known as ‘taking hand’. She explained that it was a formal initiation into the Sufi community but it required no further preparation than that which life has given to us. She continued by saying that the from of the ritual was very simple. It consisted of the individual to taking ‘the four steps’ from individuality to unity with God. This is the path of return and that we could use it as a formal commitment to the larger path of return which she called “to die before we die”.
And so there I was, standing at the first of four steps, ready to recommit myself to the path of return. Before I began, I decided to make a prayer. I asked God to allow me release from the torments that had plagued my life for so long. I made a mental reference to the feeling of fear, distrust, and betrayal and prayed, “my wish is that you take this from me and that you make this transformation perminate. I pray to experience release from this creature, no matter if its nature is that of me or another. And, I pray that this release be so complete that I do not even have a memory of the fear’s exact cause or effect until I am utterly protected from its essence for ever and ever, Amen”.
And so it was that I underwent the four steps if Sufi initiation (see chapter two for a full description of these step and their theology). At several points during the initiation, I felt the pillar of blue flame, which I saw surrounding the Sheikha, come into my body. I felt myself change at a fundamental level. I felt the demon leave me and I could hear the voice of god tell me that it would never return. And, it never has. This does not mean that my life is devoid of difficulties. Nor does it mean that I have shed myself of my natural human tendencies toward resistance against spiritual unity. In fact, I no longer believe that this is the goal of spiritual practice. However, the difficulties that I took with me into the taking hand ceremony did not return with me to the life that I now lead. I am fundamentally altered and profoundly grateful.
It was 2003, when I first taisted Sufism. I stood about four and a half paces away from the Sheikha. She was sitting in meditation, with her legs tucked under her body and her eyes closed. As I looked upon her with my eyes, she was an image of peace and serenity. Therefore, I was surprised when I closed my eyes and felt what I could only describe as a pillar of blue flame, originating from that place where God dwells, filling her torso and shooting out the top of her head to fill the entire room. Had this sensation been any less intense, I would have been trembling with fear. Instead, I was completely awash with the intensity of the vision. As though I was a child floating in space next to a star, brilliant beyond imagination.
I reflected on how I had come to this place, standing before this gateway, at this time in my life. A few weeks earlier, I had received the invitation from a friend of mine to come out and see Sheikha Fariha, the head of his Sufi order. I received the invitation with a merely mildly interest. Or rather, I was very interested, but I felt that I had too many other things to do. Life was too busy. I could not find anyone else to go with me. I was too tired. I actually tried three times to not go to this meeting; a fact that made me laugh as I was opening the door to the meeting hall, 10 minutes late.
I entered a room full of people. They were listening to a woman with a white head covering, who by my eyes looked to be around 35 years old. I could not fathom how a Sufi master could be so young. This was my first impression of her. My next impression was that of shocking familiarity. I knew her from somewhere. But where? This was not some sort of dream recognition, nor was it a mystical or other worldly recognition. I have had those many times before and this was something else entirely. It was much more tangible; like an actual memory. I felt that I knew her name, as if we had been dear friends in this life, perhaps when I was a child. After I had a chance to move closer, I had my third first impression of her. This time, she looked much older, much wiser, much more like someone with authority within the mystical heart of a major world religion.
As the evening progressed, I began to feel a particular inner resistance, welling up from deep inside me. It filled me with fear and the pain of loss. I felt the sharp memory of betrayal. This feeling urged me to leave the building and to go somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was away from this place. Moment by moment, this feeling grew; but it was not alone. There was another sensation growing inside of me. It began the moment I saw the Sheikha and felt that I knew her. Like the feeling of uncomforted, this feeling began to intensify the longer I stayed in the room with the Sheikha. I could sense light of the Holy beginning to surround me. I could feel God looking at me, gazing into my heart and filling me with such an overwhelming sense of both love and recognition that I wanted to cry. I could see that God had brought me here and that I was standing at the threshold of great change.
After the talk, the Sheikha led the group in a short Zhikr. The ceremony included singing, rhythmic movements, and intentional prayers. Throughout the Zhikr both feelings, the feeling of betrayal/fear and the feeling of love/recognition, increased to new levels of intensity. Each feeling acted as a mirror of the other. The tension between these two forces threatened to tear my very soul apart. I closed my eyes and saw myself burst unto flames, much like the vision I would see of the Sheikha in the moments to come, except that my flames were bright orange. Their source was pure, however, they were met with my own inner impurities and resistances. This caused the flames to flicker and spark as they sought to consume the painful darkness within me.
When the Zhikr was over, I was hopeful that the inner feeling of fear and betrayal would not return. I was no stranger to this feeling. Nearly 10 years before, I became aware that it had always been with me, always hiding in the shadows, always singing the song of mistrust and disunity. It felt that it had been wronged by God, punished for no reason other than existing. Therefore, it would continually seek ways to subvert my happiness in my life. My response was to seek out various spiritual healers and teachers who could help me get rid of this inner demon. This lead to my eventual practicing, then teaching, within the healing traditions of Shamanism, Reiki and Kaballah. I led or participated in dozens of powerful healings and ceremonies over the years. Each one brought me a deeper understanding of the relationship I had with this demon and why it was part of my life. Many of the experiences promised to cut the bond that tied the demon me and to heal the rift that its presence caused in the core of my being. However, none of these rituals, or any of my prayers, or any other attempt I made to end this torment would work for very long. The inner demon would always return.
True to this pattern, the feeling of fear and betrayal returned within moments after the Zhikr ended. Like a wounded animal, it came to me with a renewed sense of vigor and demanded that I leave the building. I knew the Zhikr had affected it, but I felt helpless and unable to relieve myself of this burden. I had spent nearly a decade seeking a cure and now, as if I never began my quest, I stood naked and powerless in the face of this demon.
It was at this point that Sheikha Fariha announced that the third phase of the evening was about to begin. This was a ritual known as ‘taking hand’. She explained that it was a formal initiation into the Sufi community but it required no further preparation than that which life has given to us. She continued by saying that the from of the ritual was very simple. It consisted of the individual to taking ‘the four steps’ from individuality to unity with God. This is the path of return and that we could use it as a formal commitment to the larger path of return which she called “to die before we die”.
And so there I was, standing at the first of four steps, ready to recommit myself to the path of return. Before I began, I decided to make a prayer. I asked God to allow me release from the torments that had plagued my life for so long. I made a mental reference to the feeling of fear, distrust, and betrayal and prayed, “my wish is that you take this from me and that you make this transformation perminate. I pray to experience release from this creature, no matter if its nature is that of me or another. And, I pray that this release be so complete that I do not even have a memory of the fear’s exact cause or effect until I am utterly protected from its essence for ever and ever, Amen”.
And so it was that I underwent the four steps if Sufi initiation (see chapter two for a full description of these step and their theology). At several points during the initiation, I felt the pillar of blue flame, which I saw surrounding the Sheikha, come into my body. I felt myself change at a fundamental level. I felt the demon leave me and I could hear the voice of god tell me that it would never return. And, it never has. This does not mean that my life is devoid of difficulties. Nor does it mean that I have shed myself of my natural human tendencies toward resistance against spiritual unity. In fact, I no longer believe that this is the goal of spiritual practice. However, the difficulties that I took with me into the taking hand ceremony did not return with me to the life that I now lead. I am fundamentally altered and profoundly grateful.