badhras

CWS: 1.1 - Accounting / Solomon's Judgment

2009-03-24T06:27:34Z

If you haven't read my disclaimer/foreward about the Confrontation with Satan series, please do so. It provides some context/intent for the story. Without it, you may come to any number of absurd conclusions about me and this story.

Confrontation with Satan : Book 1 - Accounting : Chapter 1 - Solomon's Judgement

Solomon found himself in a darkened room, laying on an uncomfortable bed . He did not recognize his surroundings, nor did he recognize the face of the man who stared down at him, the form barely visible but the idealized Nordic facial features being visible enough. His voice resonated and struck fear in Solomon's heart: "You're dead, Solomon. Or at least, you are as good as dead. You've been judged. I think you're on your way to an eternity in Hell."

The voice chuckled, but there was no laughter from Solomon; only silence. He was paralyzed with fear. "Hell?" he thought. "Why? I tried my best. I know I screwed up in life, but Hell? I thought I was forgiven. I thought if I made a sincere effort, I would end up in Heaven or maybe some outskirts of Heaven or some suburbia equivalent of a Divine City, but Hell? This can't ..."

"Oh but it is, Solomon. You don't think you deserve that outcome? Let me prove to you otherwise." The dark form expanded into a velvet darkness, making the entire room pitch black. Solomon could only feel shivers on his body, from both fear and an unnatural cold that caused his skin to pimple goosebumps. His lungs shrank, as if the darkness was choking him with the worst elements that belief in an afterlife could spawn.

Filling his view, stretching from periphery to periphery, his life flashed before his eyes. It was every bit of a cliché that he had heard from those who claimed to have experienced a near-death experience. It unfolded like a movie, beginning with his first memory and ending with his last memory. It would be brief to an onlooker, but Solomon felt it as an eternity. By the end, he could only mutter, "I'm sorry," before bursting into tears. His heart sank, as he slowly accepted the idea that he was dead.

Yet, Solomon's heart palpitated at the thought of Hell. "Hell doesn't exist. This can't be real. This is all a lie! Why the fuck am I here? This is total bullshit!" As he went to wipe the tears from his eyes, he found his arms were immobile. He tried to move his legs. Same. His head, fingers, toes, mouth, and eyes could not move. His entire body felt frozen; his only ability was looking straight ahead, eyes wide open, and his mind screaming what his mouth could not.

"You just apologized. Was that not an admission of guilt? Your own words not enough evidence for you?" asked the voice, quixotically. "Perhaps you need another look at your life? We can go through it in slow motion, if you like? Come to think about it, I think it would be more in the spirit of Hell if we just went through the worst parts of your life in slow motion. You can forget whatever good you did in life. Good deeds count for nothing in Hell."

Solomon saw his memories begin to unfold again, and he cried in agony, again. Though his tears streamed, he could not blink or close his eyes. The images of his memory pierced whatever blur that would have been caused by his tears. The experience was unnatural, as unnatural as Hell.

After it was done, golden eyes glinted at Solomon from a curtain of darkness. "Now, just one more time. Third time is a charm, and I'll make it hurt extra." It begun again, but this time, the worst and most painful memories were shown. They were the memories that made Solomon scream the loudest. They were the ones that confirmed his evil and affirmed to him that maybe, he did deserve to go to Hell.

writing a Baha'i allegory with Satan/Lucifer

2009-03-21T16:36:50Z

After mulling over the idea quietly for a long while, I've decided to write a story that has the fallen angel, Lucifer, as an antagonist where various Baha'i teachings are cast allegorically. After all, if...

CS Lewis can use magic wardrobes, talking lions, and evil witches as allegorical vehicles to convey Christian teachings,
Stephanie Meyer can use vampires and werewolves in situations of complete fantasy to allegorically teach about Mormon values,
Milton can write a whole book about Lucifer's expulsion from Heaven and the Fall of Man in Paradise Lost, and
Islam and Sufi can recast the nature of Lucifer's pride from wanting to be better than God to loving God so much that he couldn't bring himself to prostrate before humanity...

...then it seems reasonable that I can use Lucifer as a fictional antagonist. The irony of course is that Baha'is don't believe in the types of good/evil dualities in Christianity or Zoroasterianism. There isn't an army of demons and there isn't a personification of evil trying to screw up the human race to spite God. The best Baha'i summary on Satan I've read on the Internet can be found here.

So what would my writing be? Fiction! That's it. Just plain fiction. There's nothing about my writing to which I can claim any new fact or canonical interpretation that is either scientific or metaphysical. Like a sand mandala, this story is an expressive endeavor that is spiritual in nature, intended to be shared with others, but eventually to be deconstructed such that its purpose, from a religious or spiritual standpoint, is no more. I really mean that - anybody, Baha'i or otherwise, that would take my writing farther by ascribing hidden subtext, official interpretation, dissident motives, or new revelation is taking my writing out of context.

The story is supposed to be a form of philosophical entertainment, a kind of spiritual junk-food, if you will. Glut yourself on junk food and you'll feel ill. Every now and then a sweet is fine, if you recognize it for what it is. I feel the need to write such a statement because people have a bad habit of ignoring context. If you want something to read that tells you how to live your life, go read some sacred religious texts.

Will I be taking liberties with theological or metaphysical constructs? Will I be entertaining ideas that might be considered blasphemous or heresy? At times, will it seem like I am seeding doubt about religion and faith? The answer is probably. If you don't read the whole story, then you could easily come away that impression.

An important theme of how I intend to write this story will not be its packaging of concepts like Heaven and Hell, sin and redemption, orthodoxy and heresy, submission and disobedience, life and afterlife, or even God and Satan. If there's anything to pay attention to, it will be how the protagonist deals with the existence that he is thrust into and how he struggles to reconcile what he experiences now with what he has believed or understood of his past.

I already know in my head how I plan to structure the story. My brain has hatched the beginning, middle, and ending already. I just need to write it. I plan to write it episodically, organically if you will. This represents an interesting challenge, as I don't want to retcon the plot or rewrite prior chapters. In some sense, writing the story in this way will be inasmuch as journey for me as it will be for my fictional protagonist. Ultimately the story may simply be a catharsis for my need to express myself religiously and spiritually in a different way.

story about two friends and a prayer

2009-03-14T16:01:40Z

Two friends often shared their lunch together. One often insisted that grace be said before the meal, which went like this: O Lord, thank you for this bounty before us and we thank Thee that You are our God.

The other friend never objected to the prayer, but he remained silent during its recitation. This went on for some time, until one day he asked, "Why thank God for being our God?"

The praying friend replied, "Well, because. There are many false gods, worshipped by others. I pray to the one True God, creator of the universe; He that is omnipotent and omniscient, epitome of justice and mercy. I am thankful that He is our God and that I'm not worshipping somebody else's false god."

The other friend suggested, "Your God is omniscient, so it follows that He knows that you are addressing Him. He knows your willingness and desire to pray to Him. I think the last part of the prayer is superfluous. There's an elegance in not saying. Next time your recite it, skip saying that last part and think it. Think the meaning of it. Try to unravel the meaning of those words in their fullest. We cannot possibly understand it in a few minutes discussion here, but we can understand it in our silence.

The next day, the friend recited the modified prayer before their lunch: O Lord, thank you for this bounty before us. Silence followed. This went on for a while. The first few days were awkward, but he learned that when hunger called, that is when the silence should end. However, as the days passed the length of silence grew. Each day, his understanding of the statement grew. Many days latter, during the silence. He began to weep."

"Why the tears?" the friend of silence asked.

"Because. He is our God. He is everybody's God, whether we realize it or not. Followers of other religions may not know it, but they're worshipping Him. To Him all virtue is ascribed. If they sincerely worship the creator that is all powerful, all knowing, just, and merciful, then they are worshipping Him. God is merciful. I cannot believe that he would punish them for ignorance that is of no fault of their own. If those other gods actually exist, God will surely destroy them for leading others astray."

A few days passed and the friend of silence said, "I think the last part of the prayer is unnecessary. We come here every day and thank Him for the meal. Well of course, we're thanking Him for the meal. The food is before us. The context needs no explanation to a wise and omniscient God. Why not just address God and lead into silence where we might be mindful of the full extent of His bounty?"

The next day, the friend simply said, "O Lord" and began their meditative silence. Immediately his understanding grew. On some days, he varied his invocation, stretching it over a long exhaled breath or through singing. Some time later, he began weeping again. "Why the tears?' the friend of silence asked.

Because the bounty of God is everywhere. I am humbled and saddened and overwhelmed and joyful and many other feelings all at the same time. To think I thanked God for the food for so many years. I am almost ashamed that I did not thank Him for everything else. My wife. My kids. My job. My life. Everything. Even this park bench on which we sit. Somebody made this so we could sit on it, somebody who probably worships God. Even you, your friendship."

The next day, the friend came to their usual place and found the friend of silence there, already in silence. Rather than invoke God, he joined in silence and understood. Time passed where the meal was opened with solemn silence as they pondered the simple meaning of that invocation. Eventually, the friend began to weep again. "It's too much. I am so humbled. I cannot contain these feelings but I cannot express it either. It is beyond words. To think I could explain this would be a form of sacrilege," and he wept and wept the most cleansing tears of joy. The friend of silence hugged and consoled his friend, in silence as he listened to the ramblings and mutterings wrapped in the futile hope of trying to express all that he felt and thought.

The next day, the two met for lunch. As the friend prepared himself for silence, the other friend, the friend of silence recited, "O Lord, thank you for this bounty before us and we thank Thee that you are our God."

random thoughts for me from inspiration

2009-03-14T15:04:52Z

Every moment spent in mindfulness of God is a moment not spent in anger and bitterness. Whereas others can naturally express themselves through kindess, compassion, and appropriateness of word and deed through a lifetime of living, you have a lifetime of habitual anger and bitterness to contend with.

Knowledge is not your problem, but it is your key. Continue to learn and explore the wonders that call to you. In doing so, you will find yourself doing those other that must also be done. Your challenge is to find the right balance, which is determined by your context.

badhras @ 2009-03-13T07:33:00

2009-03-13T14:48:12Z

I have capped me own knees with abasement, O Lord.
Cause me to rise so that I might serve Thee.

I have shackled my hands with idle living, O Lord.
Free me from myself for your yoke is lighter.

I smell the shit with which I have toyed, O Lord.
Cleanse me in Thy purfumed ocean of forgiveness.

I taste the poison of bitter words and deads, O Lord.
Cause me to taste Thy wine of divine utterances and love.

I have deafened my ears with heedlessness, O Lord.
Cause me to hear Thy wondrous call.

I have blinded my eyes with distraction, O Lord.
Cause me to see Thy love in this world.

I can't sleep, inspiration calls

2009-03-12T06:41:07Z

I lay in bed, ready to sleep. On a whim, I focused my thoughts on a silent praise to God... and inspiration called so much I had to get up and write.

Oh how we struggle to climb the highest mountains on this Earth, O Lord, yet such efforts are but a fraction of the effort to rise to the summits of the holiness you have ordained for us. The majesty and loftiness of our earthly summits are nothing compared to Thee. The beauty we behold with our earthly eyes are but grayscale shadows in comparison to Thy beauty.

This is my praise of Thee, O Lord. My prayer was earlier this evening, but this is my own expression of my Remembrance of Thee. I bow and mean no disrespect. I beg of Thee to not take offense. My body may lay in this bed, but my spirit is bent at both knees. I rejoice that I know of Thee, O Lord. I weep that I know Thee not. I feel exalted that you might grant me this feeling. I am humbled that you even bother.

The wheels and cogs of this cosmos turn, and I with it. Where my place is, I do not know. The complexity and grandeur are beyond my ken, the scope and breadth wider than my vision. What you have ordained for me, I know not. I only feel humility in knowing that I experience such things.

I have gone and returned, left and come back, visited and revisited. Time and time again, lessons learned, then unlearned and then relearned again. There is infinite minutia in Thy Law, and I am overwhelmed by it all, yet determined like a migratory bird to reach its destination. Each journey is the same in search of home, yet each journey is different, wrought with new challenges and contexts.

Divine utterances inspire me. The wine of Thy love inebriates me. The ocean of Thy mercy cleanses me. You have set me aflame, O Lord. For but a brief moment, I feel a joy of connectedness, yet no tears this time. Is this a glimpse of bliss?

I desire sleep, O Lord. Nay, I need sleep for I must wake tomorrow. Yet you do all this. Why not bestow sleep? To what end do You inspire these thoughts? Why burden me with such private madness to feel such things? Even if my wife were awake, this inspiration is of no use to her. For that matter, it is of no use to anybody else, save me. So why? What additional certainty are You bestowing upon me? Have I doubted you? I know I have my share of recent disappointments. Why bestow this, in light of such things? Is it simply because I tried to praise you as my last conscious thoughts before I drifted off to sleep?

I mean no offense, O Lord. I wish not to be the ungrateful, spoiled child in receipt of every gift his parents' resources can allow. All of this is simply unexpected, unwarranted, like winning a lottery where the prize is but a moment' of being worth more than my lifetime, so far. I would have been content with simply knowing that I tried to praise You, as I lost consciousness. I did so without expectations, O Lord. I did so without expectations.

On Ruhi, Before Ruhi

2009-03-06T22:54:32Z

I recently wrote a friend and provided an example of somebody being on the bad end of Ruhi. The individual in question was on the receiving end of a rude individual's accusations on the individual's spirituality and character for not doing Ruhi. The irony was that the individual on the receiving end was in fact taking Ruhi classes; this individual had simply chosen a different teacher. I sense the student received some certitude for their choice when they received intimidation from a potential teacher.

It's not my intent to discredit Ruhi. I'm not suggesting that rude behavior is common-place. I'm not even speculating that a fatal concentration of such behavior exists in the Baha'i Faith. Not having gone through Ruhi, I cannot judge it. I can only understand my feelings and set some expectations for myself so that when I do go through Ruhi, the experience is objective-driven. This journal entry is my latest thinking on Ruhi. It will make for an interesting reflection to compare what I thought and expected with what I experience.

I sense the fear and anxiety, expressed by some long time Baha'is, is that Ruhi leads down the path to rote expressions of faith and negative kinds of group-think that we associated with more clergied religion. In many ways, I agree that Ruhi has the potential to evolve into that, as evidenced by the behavior of some individuals whose zeal enables them to levy old religion tactics of guilt and accusation against people who don't conform as they do.

My biggest fear of Ruhi is that it will lead to codification of interpretation on things that are more esoteric and abstract. To start with, the name itself, means spirit or spiritual. It seems plausible that as Ruhi evolves that people might suggest to add books that codify abstract aspects of theology, metaphysics, and spiritual life. I admit the possibility of this being appropriate, but I sense humanity will need to have evolved quite a bit for that type of outcome to seem appropriate.

Part of the beauty of spirituality is experiencing the epiphanies and realizations first hand. Spirituality cannot be taught in the same way most knowledge can be taught. Spirituality is fundamentally a personal experience. What can be taught are fundamental assumptions and methodologies that allow people to piece together what they read or ponder so that it can be applied in action.

Most of my spiritual progress comes from trying to understand esoteric and abstract concepts. It stems from the idea if I can understand these advanced concepts and learn to incorporate them into my own life, then I'll eventually become a better person. Many established mystical traditions (Buddhism, Sufi, Christian monastic life, etc.) often emphasize a disciplined process of detachment and reflection. This process of enlightenment makes one more spiritual, that is - more mindful of his relationship to God, to himself, and to all other things in this world (friends, families, enemies, animals, etc.), resulting in a character that behaves compassionately and justly. Mystics understand the abstract because of this process.

The problem is most mystical traditions are wholly impractical for dealing with the human condition on a massive scale. They are escapist traditions because one learns to escape or minimize the effects of the human condition on himself. A mystic learns to exist with love for the world despite its failings and his actions will reflect his conscience. Unfortunately, what can happen is that a mystic might never come down from his mountain of understanding. Such people find the infinite expanse of knowledge in these abstracts and they get stuck there, pondering many wonders.

Isolation from the world has value for some, perchance to develop one's certitude for one's self, to cement that one's convictions are held as his own private testament to God. Eventually one must arrive at conclusion to stay on the mountain and ponder more or to go down and test all that he has pondered. A bird that soars high towards Heavenly knowledge shows one glory, but greater is that bird that then descends to assist those that they might know, too. Charity isn't good solely for charity's sake. It's good because it removes a roadblock that might otherwise prevent somebody from being able to understand God for himself.

I realize I levy oversimplified judgment on mystics, but I'm simply trying to highlight the potential problems of mysticism. I say "tends" because some have learned to practice a more practical form of mysticism. I fully understand that mystics often begin with practical lessons; it is just that the lessons can tend to evolve into dealing with the esoteric problems of an individual's "being" or the detachment process can appear more dogmatic in its institutionalized forms because a lot of people have a difficulty understanding how to apply mystical knowledge. I do not fault these traditions for their view - they just came before a time when they could effectively deal with the problems of massive populations.

Things are different now. Many people are empowered with information and information is growing exponentially. Education is becoming more widespread. Technology is available to work things that would have been miraculous in the past. We don't need a clergy. We don't need shaykhs, priests, or monks to interpret the Word of God for us. We don't need them to exemplify good living. Many of us know through our own eyes and have a conscience that demands submission.

Like mysticism, Ruhi seems to want to develop an individual's spirituality, but it seems to do so by focusing on the practical. It focuses on practical aspects of "Baha'i culture and Baha'i life"... basic worldview assumptions, how to act nicely, how to teach your kids, the history of the faith, how to teach, how to establish good families, etc. etc. Each Ruhi book seems to starts with a small number of basic/fundamental concepts and encourages the seeker to understand how to incorporate those concepts into living a life purposed with improving the human condition for himself and those around him. From what I've seen of excerpted Ruhi material online, only the most basic of metaphysical and spiritual assumptions and concepts are stated as fact. These ideas are communicated through a basic lexicon, embodied inherently through the language of the Scripture. It's a practical necessity to ground everybody on basic concepts and lexicon. Without them you have no uniform way of communicating or discussing more advanced spiritual concepts. A common lexicon for basic concepts also helps to cement some form of unity that is the shared spiritual and religious identity of being a Baha'i.

Like numerous mystical traditions, Ruhi has teachers. Teachers are not an absolute necessity to develop spirituality, but it certainly helps to have one. I believe that a student chooses his teacher. The teacher is afforded respect because the student gives it. Just because a teacher has students means that the teacher will be any good for a particular individual. At some point, the student graduates. He may still defer to his teacher, but that is still a choice, granted out of love and respect, rather than obligation and any sense of perceived station. In essence, he defers for the same reason as he did when he was a student!

I sense the best type of Ruhi teacher, for me, is one who will empower more with questions rather than answers. I acknowledge this as an aspect of my character. If any answer is provided with certainty, it would be standalone text from the Sacred Writings. Text from the Master, the Guardian, or the Universal House of Justice is used to confirm or question my interpretation. Deference to any other opinion is done by choice because I sense alignment with Scripture.

If there is any teacher that I do not wish to have, it is one who expects conformity with their interpretation, their way of thinking, or their understanding of how knowledge should be applied in action. Such people expect deference from me because of how they see themselves. They are the kind of people who assign motive to others, levy accusations of apostacy, and make a point to exalt their own behavior. They are the kind of people who believe they can measure their spiritual self worth in terms of the number of completed Ruhi courses. These types of behaviors are asinine, but that's exactly how you get the kind of dogmas that have caused dissatisfaction with old world religions.

Ruhi is not given to us in the same way that the Sacred Writings are given, so it doesn't strike me as something eternal. I sense it is more temporal, with great purpose and function during this time of Entry by Troops, which I suspect is going to be our condition for a while. How Ruhi adapts to meet future challenges is somewhat up to us, but improper application can lead to it becoming dogmatic.

If Ruhi starts to deal with less practical problems, or if lessons used for example purposes are turned into idealized paths or examples, of if Ruhi becomes the standard manual for describing spiritual growth, or if it becomes an indicator for measuring one's worth, then it is a sign of it being dogmatic. I sense Ruhi is an effective methodology for communicating examples of practical spirituality, with the intent that people will find their own way to express faith and contribute to the improvement of the human condition. I sense it's a way to direct the course of many by identifying principles and best known methods so that people can learn how to include spirituality into how they deal with the practical problems of their daily lives. That said, problems are experienced and understood differently for different people based on their context (culture, geology, race, gender, nationality, etc.). It's impossible to have a codification that is universal in this manner. It has to be localized, and even then, focused more on the practical lives of the audience. In essence, if there isn't a means by which an individual can find a "genuine" way to express his understanding (either through words or deed) the lesson is simply rote.

I'm not suggesting that all expressions of faith must be unique. I'm sure many of us employ solutions to our lives' challenges that have similarities. What makes the expression genuine is something internal and private with God, a kind of certitude or conviction that you are doing the right thing, that you're not doing whatever it is that you're doing because somebody is standing over your shoulder ready to judge you. You're doing it for the right reason; you're doing it for the right motive. Motive can rarely be judged by anybody. At best, we can only judge the outward aspects of the deeds and outcome.

I believe with much conviction that Ruhi is spiritual in nature, but the creation of undesirable religious dogma often starts with a spiritual premise. If Ruhi becomes a platform for understanding more advanced or abstract concepts, it should do so because their is a practical need for it - that there exists a societal problem that necessitates such things, and even then, the lessons taught must be for example purposes. My personal belief is that advanced or abstract concepts don't need examples. Once you understand the basics, the more esoteric things will make sense to the individual at an appropriate time.

What I hope to find in Ruhi is that the spirituality is not written on paper. It might be that spirituality is that thing experienced when what's learned is applied, or that "ah ha!" feeling associated with realization, but those are certainly not the only ways to experience spirituality. I sense, if applied correctly, Ruhi may be what is missing in many mystic traditions. I sense that it's a systematic grounding in the earthly human condition, in addition to being a teaching vehicle that can bind believers in dimensions not attained from typical fellowship.

For me, the litmus test for whether I like Ruhi is whether it empowers the individual to discover God by intentionally leaving the more abstract questions unanswered. For now, I believe that Ruhi needs to be optional. If it ever becomes mandatory, it will be a sign that we've achieved a greatness for mankind unseen in human history (e.g. the roteness of such elementary lessons will be necessary in dealing with greater problems of being on a wide scale), or it is a sign that we are to suffer the same fate as the old world religions. Mankind's hubris has a tendency of proving the latter, but assessing the future is a merely an intellectual exercise, with limited value... and well, we're bound to get another Manifestation at some point to correct any mistakes we may have made for ourselves. But for the near future, I sense that uncoerced submission to this type of instutionalized teaching is an important goal. I sense the kind of fruit yielded from motives induced by coercion or judgment is going to be sour.

The human condition is dynamic, and the problems that we solve tomorrow will be replaced by aspects of our life today that we didn't realize were problems. Codification of methodology has a place for dealing with practical and temporal aspects of the human condition. Very few things of the human condition are eternal. If Ruhi becomes a go-to manual for "how to be a good or minimally good Baha'i", I sense it will become stale and dogmatic

my fundamental problem is motive

2009-03-04T03:06:47Z

An old friend told me that Ruhi describes three levels of understanding of the writings, and through an intellectual reaction to the statement, I came to accept an understanding of self.

Knowing and understanding the writings are rarely my weaknesses. This isn't some self proclaimed exaltation of my intelligence or my being. Rather, it's part of a setup that leads to a rather damning indictment. Inspiration from a year ago forbade me from reading the 7 Valleys & the 4 Valleys until I after I had read through the Aqdas and the Iqan (again). I innately understood the reason why then but clarity of such self-advisement became abundantly clear today.

My problem is not knowing. It's never been knowing. It's never been understanding. I've always been able to read and process esoteric information, to discern patterns, to test theories on my own, and to understand how one can apply that knowledge in practical, daily life. It's a natural consequence of having read philosophy and religion on my own as an independent student since the 8th grade.

There's also cognitive knowledge and understanding and then there's knowing with certitude. Even the latter has not been my problem. I vaguely remember a conversation (at university roughly 10 years ago) with a person of faith, who expressed polite jealously that God proved Himself to me multiple times. He pointed out that God usually doesn't indulge arrogant challenges of "if God exists, then God will do xyz to prove to me He exists"... which is true for most. Not me. I stopped counting, but it was roughly one to two handfuls of disparate events. I have no excuse. Even moreso is the regularity with which I experienced those moments of spiritual extascy and joy, that flood of overwhelming knowledge/awakening/understanding that serves to inspire one to better himself and transforms belief into true faith of conviction and certitude. Knowledge and understanding are not my weaknesses.

And lest ye think I'm self-aggrandizing. I'm not trying to. I'm not claiming that I know everything or that I understand everything. I'm not suggesting I've unraveled any special knowledge. There's a simplicity to spiritual divine knowledge - it really is as simple as the first few of The Hidden Words suggest - pure, kind and radiant heart, knowing justice, and knowing God. Everything else is a kind of elaboration, an unfolding of very simple, elegant principles. The beauty about enlightenment is that there's always more minutia, subtley, and beauty to uncover in such basic principles. The intersection of the basics and their derivatives lead to an exponentially infinite number of derivatives of understanding. I'm still unraveling and with great humility I can say with certainty that I am far from knowing and understanding the infinite expanse that is enlightenment.

Furthermore, I know I can do. Don't get me wrong. I have my insecurities and weaknesses that manifest in failures to manifest spirituality in action. However, I can breathe. I can move. I can talk. I can see, hear, feel. I have many abilities that most of us are blessed with. I have some unique talents, too, as we all have different talents. Fundamentally, I know I can do because I do everyday... just that I'm not always doing what I ought to be doing or doing it to the extent my conscience demands of me.

What I am claiming though is that God has blessed me with the knowledge with which I can better myself, the intelligence to understand that knowledge and apply it in a diversity of contexts, the spiritual experiences that provide the certitude to know when I'm avoiding my true responsibilities and obligations and when I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and the simple capability of being able to plan and follow through on self improvement. I'm sure I'm not alone, and there's nothing unique here for people who have an active and demanding conscience. I am unbelievably blessed.

The damning indictment is that I'm not "being"... I've never gone through Ruhi but I expect it makes a distinction between "knowing", "doing", and "being". I have the first two down... the last part is my weakness. Perhaps "being" is the wrong word. Unfettered? Pure in heart and motive? The "true" in "true seeker"?

In its most fundamental form, my lack of being manifests as the part of me that doesn't want to exist. It just wants complete obliteration of the soul, bordering on being unmade. I know such an outcome is not metaphysically available, and I'm cognitively aware that's just my lesser being whispering and using guilt and shame to its advantage.

What is an option is annihilation of the self, a level of existence where I exist in harmony with what God expects of me. It's an existence with no doubt - just joy in knowing that all that I am and all that I do is His Will, etc. etc. I know I've tasted fleeting bits of that, as that what drives my certitude. Yet with all that I know, all that I experience and feel, I lack the motivation to want that goal for the right reasons. I'm wanting it because it's what I can get... not because it's the best thing in the universe that anybody could ask for.

This is a terrible insult towards God - to suggest that I'm settling for enlightenment and salvation, as if they were a 2nd place prize. Yet, what I want is something more, more than what I am entitled to as a human. It's fundamentally Luciferan. It's the desire to be more and have more than what God bestows. Knowing that I am denied it, I hear the whisper that calls for the soul's oblivion: why bother serving in Heaven, if you're not going to get what you really want? I'm ashamed of this and I've known of it, but I am starting to understand just how unbelievably damning this is.

It wouldn't surprise me if this is one of the reasons the most seemingly holy of people can find themselves barred from nearness to Him at the moment of their death - even suggesting that one is entitled to anything from God because it's promised in scripture smacks of a terrible arrogance. Likewise, the seemingly most undeserving person, with humble and pure intent, can theoretically find themselves awakened by His Grace and attain the everlasting life as His humble servant, doing what He so commands and experiencing the constant awakening of life as He breathes love into one's soul. How such a person serves God may be different than somebody who has consistently served Him, but it doesn't really matter, does it? God overflows one's cup... the arrogant and the prideful care about the size of that cup. The humble and the pure graciously accept it for what it is and are able to drink more deeply, but still - their cups will overflow, as a constant reminder of just how limited they are. And perhaps with time, God might surprise one with an expression of grace, a new cup that is larger.

But today, I have a better understanding of my greatest weakness... it's almost as if Baha'u'llah dragged me out of bed, sat me down, and said, "Look. Get with the program. Here's a laundry list. You can do it. Get to it. Quit complaining. Forget what you did. I'm judging you on what you'll do. And quit worrying about how you screwed up. You're in line for Heaven. That's what counts. Don't complain about others being ahead of you in line, and don't complain about what you'll get when pass those gates. You lost your place in line before and that was your choice, but you're in line now. Get it? I know you do. You perceive the sea of misery that is the human condition... many are those who don't even know of this line to Heaven even exists. Many are just content to do it their way or the old way, and you see how it can sometimes compound their personal misery even with the best of intentions, contributing to the overall human condition that is so often plagued by misery. You sense the complexity. You understand the simplicity of the answer and the difficulty and magnitude of the solution. You understand with humility how small a role you play in the larger scheme of things. You've glimpsed all of this and you turned away because you couldn't bear its sight. How many times have I inspired you to do something, and you chose not to for whatever excuse you came up with. I know that you know. Don't worry, though. I'll make you into one who can brave it, though. When I'm done with you, you won't care about the weight or complexity or your inferiorities and weakness, because you'll have grown. It won't matter because you'll be doing what I tell you. You know suffering. You know because you know separation. You were my adversary, knowingly. Most do it to rebel out of ignorance. But you did it with knowledge and out of spite, and you've paid for it and will continue pay for it to deal with natural consequences for some time. I know that you know. But how blessed are you that you know separation first hand. You can appreciate such plight with such certainty. Most don't even know they're suffering. I've given you so much, but you still shuffle your feet and frown. Others would trade all that they have to get your place here. Are you not thankful? Are you going to spit in my face a third time? Do you dare demand more of Me? I bring you to the path leading to Heaven, offer forgiveness, instruct you, give you certitude, and you can't even bring yourself to want it for the right reason. You're like the lover that can't bring himself to say 'I love you' to the girl he loves, even though she's the most wonderful and loving person in his life. You're the guy that is more than willing to say 'I care about you a lot'. Don't worry, though. I know why you are this way, even if you don't fully understand. I know you'll come around, eventually. In the meantime, get to it. I'll tolerate you doing it for the wrong reason because I love you. That's how much God loves you. Follow through and the change that you so desperately seek will happen. I know that you know."

day 1 of The Fast

2009-03-03T06:43:08Z

I slept through morning twilight which is expected since I went to sleep at 1am. I woke up in time for dawn prayers, but not in time for a pre-dawn breakfast so I skipped it. I broke fast well after sunset.

This year I bothered to actually print out a sunrise/sunset calendar. Funny how information can actually make things easier. In prior years, I always used darkness as the indicator... as in, I essentially fasted from the end of morning twilight to the beginning of evening twilight. So much to my surprise, fasting might be a bit easier this year... provided health doesn't impede things.

I spent my lunch hour praying. I'm looking forward to using The Fast as a vehicle to getting me back on a schedule resembling things before my back surgery. It might just work... although I'm not terribly happy about this massive sore throat and horrible nasal/respiratory problems. I'm not sure I really care if I'm permitted to break fast to heal... because well, these types of health problems have been my ongoing excuse. If my body fails me, I will have transgressed limits, and I'll have the certainty to know that I trangressed. Until then, I'm going to do my best to make it through all 19 days.

That said, I enjoyed today. I mean, there's nothing about my day that I can say was truly stellar from an employee perspective. It's a bit odd... almost like a joyful calm bordering on melancholy mood without pity or sadness.

... i guess my journal is largely private

2009-02-11T14:10:50Z

There's a certain irony in having an online journal and not sharing. There are actually quite a few journal entries written since my last entry, but they take the form of private letters and it would be inappropriate to share. There's a certain sense of safety that comes from having a mostly anonymous Internet. Combine that with the catharsis that comes from public expression, it's no wonder that blogs are so popular.

Still my heart is content in knowing that what I've done is sufficient. There's so much that I need to do, and daily challenges and personal weakness still get in the way of pursuing a more rigorous prayer practice. There's a certain je ne sais quoi about my lack of discipline now that I sense I need to explore... as if, I'm being given then chance to understand how to exercise a disciplined form of enlightenment that lacks the more visible forms of outward structure.

Don't get me wrong - it's not like I've stopped praying or have missed numerous days of obligatories and allah-u-abhas. Much to the contrary, I'm praying quite often... often times, holding my daughter so that she might be accustomed to hearing prayer and not thinking it's entirely weird. My record isn't perfect, but I'm content with it.

Life is a storm right now... not as frightening as a hurricane, but numerous uncertainties exist. Amidst all of it is the one certainty of God. I know I can navigate these challenges with a zen-like efficiency... now I just need to find that zen gear on my motor.

silent but there

2009-01-14T06:20:13Z

O' Lord, I still yearn for my return to certain habits, yet my health continues to plague me. If not a cough, then a back problem. These damned medications don't help in that regard, yet to ignore my physical physician's advice would simply be an act of arrogant stupidity. Yet, I yearn for my prayer, 5 times a day. I yearn for the cadence... the ritual that it is in keeping two handfuls of prayers memorized so that I have but some of Thy Sacred Words at my disposal when I need them most. I promise, Lord, to find a way to adapt things... the number of prayers per day is meaningless in the most esoteric and larger meaning of things. I know that a life led in constant mindfulness of Thee, whether it be done through recitations of prayers, supplications and praise, deeds dedicated in compassion... all are valid, and to suggest that 5 times a day is sufficient is rather foolish of me. Yet, I strive and I am still learning. There is a place for all of it though, and the cadence of formalized prayer has its place, and I promise to try to do better.

I'm still learning that feeling Thy nearness can come at the most unexpected times. Twice, I've felt epiphanies so great that any words I could write would only shame the experience. It's a shame that I woke my wife at these late times at night, and it's an even bigger shame that she doesn't understand. Maybe with time, she'll understand. She at least knows my private laments, although I realize that I could have phrased things better so as to not offend.

O' Lord, know that I strive. I am weak; I am plagued... but I strive, and I am learning to accept that the lengthy times spent in solitude and prayer and reflection in my recent history were appropriate for that time. I am learning to understand the duties of being a father, and my daughter deserves my attention. So, Lord, though I don't write as often in public praise of Thee, know that I try to be mindful of Thee. The fact that I write this is almost stupid though... of course You know, for You are God, the Omniscient and All-Knowing. I write this because I am weak and foolish, for the simple fact that by doing I help to enforce what I know in my heart.

And before I forget, know that I am thankful for the opportunity in sharing what little I know of Thee with some certain people in recent conversations. I promise to tell them I'm Baha'i when the time is right... telling them now would simply sound gratuitous and out-of-place. I beg of Thee to confirm in my heart when the time is right.

Begin with Yourself

2008-10-11T05:24:02Z

I chastised them for sin,
You chastised me for pride.
Why are they exempt?
They are not.

Why am I admonished?
Why am I accused?
You are not God, either.
Willing student, are you not?

How will they ever learn?
Somebody must act
if only to teach them.
What have you taught?

I bring their faults to light
so that they might know.
That can’t be wrong.
Wrong is not the issue.

What have you taught?
You have simply told.
You expect understanding?
If they are logical.

Without their request,
Your words are wasted.
They’ve heard it before.
So what should I say?

Forget about saying.
Think of when to act.
Search for willingness.
Not everybody is willing.

Some can’t ask for help.
Some don’t ask for help.
Some won’t accept the help.
Some can, some do, and some will.

How am I to know?
Who should I believe?
I cannot read minds.
It's about hearts, not minds..

What does that mean?
You've said nothing.
What am I to do?
Begin with yourself.

When one asks for help,
you have reason to act.
Take that as a sign.
And if I can't help?

If one cries for help
and another has wronged him,
you have reason to act.
Do I admonish the wicked?

If one wrongs himself
and laments his condition,
you have reason to act.
And do I point out his error?

With every instruction,
only more questions.
I don't understand.
Begin with yourself.

Manifest me, your pure,
kind, and radiant heart,
by seeking justice.
I have much to learn.

Perfect Prayer

2008-10-09T11:24:11Z

Teacher,
is there such a thing as perfect prayer?
Perfect? Nay.
Sufficient? Yes.

When you first learned to pray,
showing up was your greatest challenge.
Prayer book in hand,
you stumbled through the words and motion.

With your attendence improved,
you then strove to memorize,
that you might sing with your heart
rather than submit with your eyes.

Then, you considered details.
Postures. Positioning. Ablutions.
Striving to know how and when
to do each properly.

At first
you guessed the direction
of the Qiblih.
Then you bought a compass.

At first
you needed water
from a handwashing faucet.
Then you discriminated less.

Each time, I told you to strive for more.
And through burden of conscience,
you understood the sufficiency
that was expected of you.

Then things changed.
Your rhythms broken.
You no longer could do
what you had learned to do.

Attendence became a problem, again.
Yet, you were excused from prior patterns.
Under new circumstances
you demonstrated sufficiency, differently.

Then your conscience complained.
Complacency! I am better than this!
Aspects of prior patterns
unioned with current patterns.

Your prayer today
is better and worse than yesterday's.
Tomorrow's will be better than today's,
only for tomorrow to become today.

Perfection implies
you have nothing left to learn.
Sufficiency necessitates
sincerity and devotion.

Strive for perfection!
Strive until you beg forgiveness
for your weakness and ignorance.
Sufficiency is His grace and pardon.

Obedience

2008-10-09T05:39:45Z

He invites me into His garden,
Come, drink, enjoy yourself.
I shall not enter. I wear the rags of a leper.
Forgive me, Lord.
It matters not. Be merry and be at peace.

Oh Lord, allow me to serve.
You throw such lavish parties.
I ought not to attend with my tattered robes.
Do you wish to shame me,
in front of your esteemed guests?
Allow me but to stand at Thy gate.
Perchance, I might serve as a simple greeter.
Suit yourself, but my gate has no door.

I stand. I greet. I watch others enter, smiling.
I look at myself. How hideous.
What am I doing?
The Lord deserves a knight
or a well-dressed butler in this spot.

I leave, running...
Others spot me in the street,
as they walk towards the garden.
"Why run?" they ask.
I am driven from His sight.
I know my place. It is not there.
I yearn to go back, but I run.

I stop. I know this place: Hell.
Different than I remember it.
Last time I enjoyed this place.
Carefree. Unburdened.
And then I heard the call,
the invitation to His garden.

In haste and urgency, I ran.
Knowing what it was,
Yet knowing nothing at all.
There and back, again.

I still hear His call.
He sends others to find me.
"Not yet," I cry. I can't go like this.
They shrug and return.

Then He comes.
Why do you spit in my face?
I tremble. How have I offended?
I did what I thought was fitting.

I invited you. You came.
Then you changed your mind,
Refused the invitation of a guest.
You then titled yourself as servant,
and then you abandoned your post.
When I sent for you, you resisted again.

When I called, it was My decree.
You obeyed.
When I invited you in,
That was Grace.
When you refused,
you spat in my face,
as if what I had to give
was not worth receiving.
When you titled yourself,
that was pride.
When you failed your task,
that was weakness.
When I sent for you,
you disobeyed.

Had you come in,
I would have given you robes.
Had you stayed,
I would have appointed you,
made you a gardener or
even a greeter at the gate.
Had you served,
I would have given
strength for your duties.
Each time,
you thought yourself
better than I.

O' Lord, in your presence,
I feel ashamed.
So close, yet so far away.
Separation from Thee
feels so much more real.
So I run.
Here, I can lie to myself.
Here, I feel what I deserve,
yet the pain is so much less.

You will always feel
some degree of separation.
You will never
be as I am. Still,
that is no excuse.
Come to my table,
either as a guest,
or as a servant,
or as a wretch,
or prisoner.
It matters not how.
Submit and obey.

pre-dawn reflections on 9/11

2008-09-11T13:04:37Z

I suppose it's fitting God stirred me this morning... on September 11th. It's a day to be mindful of the loves lost, and it's one of those days that will live in infamy in the minds of many. It's possibly also a glorious day for some who believe that hijacking planes full of civilians and crashing them into buildings is a just act of devotion to God. How people arrive at such conclusions is something I only understand in theory... I'm probably better for not having first-hand knowledge of such theories.

The memory of that day lends itself as a harsh test for anybody that believes in forgiveness, the nature of God's forgiveness, and the need for justice and jurisprudence. My heart tells me that nothing good comes from hating any enemy... conflicts only seems to worsen and grow when one willingly participates in it with such passions. On the other hand, I feel one ough to be offended at what was done and doing nothing in response would not be just.

As a nation, I think it was reasonable and just to invade Aghanistan for the expressed purpose of bringing Al Qaeda to justice for what they did, given our level of collective enlightenment. (Were we more enlightened, we probably would not have been attacked in the first place.) Yet, I've always felt the invasion of Iraq was pursued more for the less noble causes than what was preached. In some sense, we transgressed the concept of justice and jurisprudence in that case.

And still, what then of forgiveness... and it's clear to me that the concept of a nation bestowing any sense of forgiveness will only happen when its citzens are ready to forgive, especially by those who were directly affected. I suppose it's something that each of us has to contend with. For some, time is sufficient. Otherwise, it may be a momentous event, such as the capture, trial, and execution of Osama bin Laden. For others, the knowledge that it is not their place (or perhaps they feel no need) to judge or forgive is sufficient to make it a non-issue. Then, there are those who are fueled by their hate of what happened... (sigh)

In the end, the forgiveness that matters is God's... I'm not that bright, but I'm smart enough to know I don't know the mind of God. Certainly the hijackers of September 11 believe they have God's favor. I suppose if one is preoccupied with the nature of others' devotion (or lack of devotion) to your interpretation of God and your religion, it's easy to end up doing such things.

I suppose it's fitting to pray in remembrance of the dead, to pray that God help survivors find contentment and peace... and perhaps it's even fitting to pray for those who believe 9/11 was a praiseworthy act of Jihad... for them, I pray that they eventually learn to understand the totality of what they praise... and equally fitting, a prayer for this nation to understand the totality of what we are and what we represent to the rest of the world.

There's fair criticism to be levied against the United States, especially its culture of consumerism, greed, its half-hearted and fragmented devotion to God, and aspects of its foreign policy... but warts and all, there's no other nation where I'd rather reside. It is still a land of opportunity and a place where one is free to pursue one's interests and worship as one pleases. People are still immigrating here moreso than people here fleeing to live elsewhere. Being an immigrant myself and having lived in 3 other countries, I am honored to be a citizen.

Many citizens of the United states stood proud and united on 9/11 and the weeks following the event. In its own way, the unity was a glimpse of what this nation can achieve.

ecstatic ramblings on spiritual awakenings and The Greatest Name

2008-08-13T10:27:24Z

He is God, the Mover! His Will be done!

God stirred me at 2:15 AM. I thanked Him for the blessed moment, for I sensed He woke me to quench a bodily thirst that I had yet to feel. I went downstairs drank some water and retired back to bed. I did not know whether He would permit me to sleep, so I began to pray.

So much transpires in moments of ecstacy. It's a blur now, but I came down to journal for I needed to capture what I could.

The ecstacy of God was beautiful... it's ironic that there are no words to describe that which ought to be describable, if only so that others who don't know might know what they're missing out on. Redemption, growth... the spirit set aflame and inspired to do greatness and serve... I sense that my insistence in learning to recite memorized prayers more properly are somewhat responsible for this visitation today. But I digress... I know not how else to describe it... perhaps, stated best... it is BAHA.

When the most intense moments of ecstacy subsided, I lamented momentarily... lamented that my wife knows not of such ecstacy. She could write off my experience this evening from having taking narcotic and valium hours ago for my back pain... but I've felt such ecstacy before I ever took such medications. If anything, those substances have only hampered my ability to feel the ecstacy of God in the past, so the fact that I feel it with such intensity is counter-intuitive.

But I digress... she knows not. This innate knowledge that has been awakened... or perhaps this evidence of God experienced empirically is something that divides us, and I wish it didn't. I wish I understood the mechanics or metaphysics of a spiritual awakening. How does one learn to hear the His Call? How does one come to a point in life where he can experience such ecstacy, daily? I wish I knew for I would certainly direct my wife in a manner so that she might experience for herself.

So... like in the darkest of times, when I am utterly powerless, I beseeched the Almighty. I asked that He might awaken her spirit. I asked that He might make her hear His Call... that He move her spirit, even if only such that she might wonder... move her such that she might start pondering.

Alas, these things are beyond my control. I lament not that they are beyond my control, and I lament not if my wife chooses otherwise. I am content with having my emprical experience, and I am content in my duty to teach others of spiritual matters, especially my daughter. Whether anything takes hold is beyond my control... what is within my grasp is my sincerity in the act of teaching. Nothing more can be expected other than to do my best in that regard.

On a somewhat unrelated note, I need to do a bit of research on The Greatest Name and its use in prayers. I'm convinced that I owe God the chanting of The Greatest Name, dedicated wholly unto Him, dedicated wholly to His Glory... as if it were a prayer of distilled praise and recognition of God.

What I need to better understand is whether it would be an abuse of The Greatest Name to punctuate within some of my own ad-libbed prayers. It seems like it could fit in a more typical "laundry list" prayer. Catholics have a prayer format for such a thing: We pray for _____. We pray to the Lord. Lord, hear our prayer... We pray for ____.... Lord, hear our prayer. It seems I could easily substitute The Greatest Name for the stuff after whatever we pray for. I've done it on prior occasions, and it accents such prayers nicely from a perspective of cadence and flow. However, I know this is The Greatest Name... while using it so might have some merit, I need to better understand, if it's appropriate, both from a Baha'i Law and Baha'i culture/norms.

prayer memorization update

2008-08-12T06:19:33Z

I don't have time to do full prayer reflections, but I have spent the time since my last journal entry learning three new prayers. I am happy that I've made some progress in this regard, even though my recitation doesn't quite have the right flow and cadence. This brings the total number of Bahai'i prayers to 7... in review.

short obligatory
medium obligatory
detachment: O Lord! Unto Thee I repair for refuge...
evening: The Midnight Prayer
forgiveness: Lauded by Thy Name, O My God...
teaching: O God! O God! This is a broken-winged bird...
Grace at the table: He is God! How can we render Thee thanks, O Lord?...

I need to deeply reflect on the last three and write journal entries for them. I haven't yet, but not having done so does not bother me too much. That time will eventually come, most likely when my recitation of those verses come naturally, without effort.

In terms of praying 5 times a day... not quite hitting that magic number of 5. It's always something like 3 or 4... although, there's something to be said about the time put into those 3 or 4. As I've said before, there is something to be said about quality, as well as quantity.

Still, I realize that praying 5 times a day isn't something that is hard. I've done it before, when I had a more regimented schedule. I simply need to have the discipline to do it without predictable breaks in my day. In fact it is during those days where my schedule is full that I should be ever mindful... it only need be a muttering of silent prayer. Anything... really, that shows my mindfulness of God.

Were I ever mindful of God during an activity, I would treat that as prayer. The simple matter is that I'm not yet changed so thoroughly in spirit to remember without effort. Still, I sense changes will happen with time.

It's ironic that my wife thinks that I've already made my biggest change... that being a follower of God. What I don't think she understands is that being a professed follower of God doesn't really amount to much. How many pious people do I find objectionable? How often do I find myself annoyed by reformed sinners, people who somehow have found God and somehow find it within their right to judge others or presume that they somehow can lay claim to any level of enlightenment.

If there's anything that I've learned from my meditations is that I'll never be enlightened... there's really no such thing. The truly enlightened... those are the Manifestations of God. That's what makes them enlightened. Everybody else is a student... sure, some might be farther along in their journey, but that journey never ends. There's always something new to learn.

Just like Rumi's poem where Moses chastizes a man for praying to God with an inappropriate level of familiarity, only to be chastized by God for having chastized the man, only to later learn from the chastized man that the original chastizing was in some way appropriate. We're constantly learning, unlearning, and learning again... just like Buddha's metaphor of peeling an onion. How lucky am I to be able to look forward to being a student forever... no boredeom shall await me!

over-exertion, narcotics, rest, and atrophy

2008-08-10T01:05:34Z

I wish I could say that I got a lot done this week, but then again, the primary purpose of this week (and next week) is to recover from surgery. I've learned a little about myself, and I'm still learning how to balance the goals of rest and appropriate activity. Over the first week, I experinced both extremes of physical over-exertion and physical rest, to the point of atrophy. Spiritually speaking, I could have done a bit better. What follows is my recalling of the past week.

Over-exertion

The first few days after my surgery were filled with over-exertion. It started with waking up early Friday morning and spending 3 hours writing a long journal entry. Although the waking on Friday could be blamed on the "final wearing off" of the general anaesthesia used during surgery, the rest of my weekend is punctuated by long stretches of being upright (e.g. standing, walking, not laying down). My rest is erratic, usually consisting of a restful night's sleep and a nap sometime during the day.

By Monday, my behavior finally caught up with my body. My back felt extremely sore, and I realized that my tendency to want to be awake and do even the most mundane things with my family is getting in the way of recovery. I also theorized that narcotic painkillers haved prevented me from understanding the degree to which I've stressed my body because the narcotics mask the pain but don't encourage or induce sleep (at least, those side-effects don't exist for me). I resolved to scale back on the narcotic consumption and take a more pro-active stance on rest.

Narcotics

Early Tuesday morning I wake with pain, and I almost convince myself to get up and take painkillers, but I find myself assessing this pain. Why is the pain in my right foot and not my left, and why doesn't feel sciatic pain? Why do my arms feel like they're on fire? Why are my arms and legs twitching? I realize that I'm probably going through withdrawal, and I find myself praying... asking God to help me sleep and to fight my body's urges to get painkillers. I've never been one to be critical of anyone's recreational drug use, but I've always had a point of personal pride to not have a chemical dependency. Yet here I am, face to face with the prospects of having one. I eventually manage to fall asleep, but not without first experiencing exhaustion from fighting the call of the chemical, made most obvious by the cold sweating.

In hindsight, I realize that I'm probably not a good candidate for addiction... I'm too mindful of it, I'm able to fight those urges well, and I don't seek to get high on my medication. The biggest problem is that I do enjoy narcotic highs a bit too much, and I know it. Narcotic highs are rare, and there's nothing intentional or predictable about experiencing them. Sometimes I'll find myself feeling a bit high off a single, standard dose of narcotic painkillers. Other times, I'll take a series of double doses and feel nothing... but one thing is for sure. When it happens, it happens... and I do enjoy it, even if it's just feeling a bit loopy in the head.

The phrase of chasing the dragon is appropriate... the best narcotic high I've experienced was at a hospital, with an intravenous narcotic, 4 years ago. It was unbelievably awesome, going from awful, tear-inducing back pain to a blabbering idiot, high as a kite. I'd be lying if I said anything contrary to having fully enjoyed that experienced... a lot. I've never had a high quite like that, even after getting the same narcotic intravenously a second time, 3 years ago. Even with all of the painkillers now... I could probably induce an incredibly good high, but I don't feel any desire to get high on my medication because I hate the idea of addiction so much. I'm more than content to experience a chemical high that wasn't intentionally induced... and the fact that it's so rare, makes it seem almost like a surprise gift.

Rest & Detox

The remainder of the week was spent on far fewer narcotics. I suppose I was always taking them as-needed, the fact that I was up and about more often meant that I needed them more often. Now, I take them as needed under the context of increased rest during the day, meaning I take 1 or 2 pills per day. This is a far cry from the 6-9 pills a day (with a physician's maximum of 12 per day) from earlier in the week.

With fewer narcotics in my body, I find myself naturally tired... as in, I actually feel my body's exhaustion from the surgery more-so, but the pain is not so excruciating that I feel the need to be popping pills aggressively. I'm more mindful of my body's aches and pains, where they are and how intense they are. My resting schedule is more pronounced: longer evening sleep, more naps throughout the day, and my waking hours are spent often on my back... resting those tired muscles that I over-exerted earlier in the week.

Atrophy of Body and Spirit

Despite having introduced aspects of my physical therapy routine into my daily activities, I sense that I have been excessive in my pursuit of rest, during the past few days. The natural balance offered by the Middle Way was lacking, and had I taken a more mindful approach to integrating prayer more regularly throughout my day, I sense I would have realized that. Prayer is almost always an activating experience... God sets my spirit aflame, unless I am specifically asking for rest.

I eventually realized the stupidity of the idea, but there were a few times when I opted to not pray because I was laying down... as in, because the posture wasn't reverent enough. I eventually dispelled this concern and found myself praying more often... although, probably not enough to qualify for my original goal of 5 times a day.

Still, I sense my prayer habits sufficient at times and lacking at other times. At times, prayer felt more fulfilling and not being I am not necessarily rushed by my "normal" schedule. However I sense that I should be striving to be mindful of my original goal of prayer 5 times a day. Having multiple naps during the day really screws with things, although in hindsight I should have simply prayed when I began to nap and again when I woke. These are the types of things I learn when I reflect on my day, and I should make a better habit of reflecting... and there's something to be said about writing a journal entry. Such realizations feel more tangible... as if I'm less likely to forget. I know I've had inner dialogs and reflection over the course of this week, and I struggle to remember the key take-aways. I need to get back in the habit of daily journals... they need not be long and tedious, but I learn something every day... it's a damn shame that I should forget.

But today... today hasn't been good. I feel the atrophy caused by excessive rest, and I sensed that this might happen yesterday. Today, my whole body feels plagued by a certain kind of ache... as if my body doesn't want to move at all. I realize some of this is caused by the fact that I could not sleep last night and most of my rest in the last 18 hours has been during the day and plagued by the occasional telephone call. Still, having sensed this possibility yesterday, I am certain that I need to find a better balance between rest and activity.

My spirit, too, feels a similar kind of ache... again, probably tied to not having some structure in my day that is not guided by prayer. I made a promise to myself to learn a prayer today, and I chose to memorize a prayer of forgiveness, after giving into a bit of temptation. Although, I stumble, I find myself hastening to God. I hope to journal tomorrow on the memorized prayer, after giving my mind some time to digest its meanings.

back surgery and plans for recovery

2008-08-01T10:29:37Z

Ever since sometime before June 16, 2008... ever since my most recent string of back pain and sciatica was bad enough to visit the doctor, my prayer habits have been a bit lacking and my typical blogging pattern of a daily journal somewhat reflects that. I missed 4 days in June and missed 27 days in July.

That's not to say that I failed to do my daily Baha'i obligatory prayer or the Allah-u-abha chant. Rather, my personal goal of praying 5 times a day wasn't met. My physical exercise goals have also been lacking, in genuine pursuit of physical recovery, as well. My cadence of waking in the early morning for dawn prayers and driving into work early so I could exercise was no longer possible. On some days, I might have met the spirit of prayer 5 times a day through general mindfulness of God throughout the day, but I certainly can't recall specifics...

The lack of exercise is excusable. Missing prayer 5x/day, perhaps understandable. In hindsight the number is less important.. the quality of prayer or mindfulness and the frequency is more important. Most of what I hold myself to is a personal dogma, and I sense God was testing me by testing my dogma, thus giving me the chance to understand empirically what I've known all along.

Still I stive for 5x/day because it can be difficult for me on some days, and had I been dedicated enough to that standard I would have found a way to ease my conscience every day by adjusting my personal rule that I have 2 hours of time between each prayer or to have practiced a continual mindfulness of God. I was inconsistent on both accounts. I was too stubborn for the former and not enlightened enough for the latter. Despite these things, I got a better understanding of the meaning behind the personal struggle for God. My daily routine has changed and must change due to practical needs and a goal to better apply compassion in my life.

So here's a general summary of what's happened.

July 8, 2008 (around midnight): The first many serious (level 7+) sciatic nerve pain incidents waken my slumber. This begins a major turning point of my prayer rituals for the worse. My blogging patterns become very less frequent from this point on.
July 8, 2008 (late morning): I saw a physiatry physician. He tested my reflexes, range of motion, and walking/foot strength to assess the nature of my sciatic nerve pain. He concluded that it was deep-tissue muscle inflammation that was causing the sciatic issues and not a spinal disc issue. I received 3 trigger point injections witha long-last local anaesthetic without cortisone, despite my suggestion for it. It served to ease my back pain but failed to ease any leg pain. I should not that the drive to see this physician was full of screaming in pain and it was my first time I considered to recite prayers as a method of pain control. The technique didn't solve the pain, but it kept me from degenerating into swearing obscenities and wrathful behavior. Unfortunately, my mood was so soured by the doctor's diagnosis (as I was sure this was a herniated or ruptured spinal disc) that when I sat in the car the next time, I screamed obscenities the entire way to my destination, as my poor wife and daughter had to tolerate it.
July 8, 2008 (evening, after work): Having felt truly felt ashamed for my behavior earlier in the day, I asked my coworker to drove detour to a place where I bought my wife some flowers, as a way ot apologizing and acknowledging that I could have done better. I was able find a comfortable position with the seat rolled fully horizontally, something I was not able to do in our car due to the installation/positioning of our daughter's car seat.
July 9, 2008 (shortly after midnight): As mentioned in the July 11, 2008 journal entry, I went to medical urgent care, although we waited for my wife's parents to get to our house so that that our daughter was under supervision. I am more successful in using prayer to restrain the more wrathful and obscence behaviors. The physician tests me in a manner similar to the physiatry physician and explains to me that I fail all tests for a serious disc issue, except for the pain test. In my own mind, I forgive the physiatry physician for his diagnosis and conclude that he wasn't entirely incompetent, as I wasn't exhibiting same kind of pain when laying down on his examination table. The urgent care physician gets the pain under control, gets me on some oral steroids, and sends me home. I write my physiatry and primary care physicians, summarizing the story.
July 9, 2008 (late morning): Physiatry physician orders an MRI. He apologizes and says he sincerely did not believe I exhibited a disc issue. I wait for their call.
July 10, 2008 (around noon): After taking the initiative to call the MRI department, I get an MRI scheduled for next Friday. Sometimes being a nag gets things done, unfortunately.
July 11, 2008 (late afternoon, early evening): My wife picks me up from work. My sciatic pain while sitting is excruciating, so I lay reversed, facing backwards. We arrive at the MRI facility, complete the MRIs, and drive to my wife's parents' house afterwards. I am in some pain. My wife goes to work, under a prior obligation. My in-laws agree to watch over me, serving dinner at their house, and later driving my daughter and I back to our home. By 9pm, we're feeling comfortable... we *think* everything is going to be just fine.
July 12, 2008 (minutes after midnight): I come down for a snack. My wife is in the downstairs bathroom; I don't know that, nor do I know that she's returned from work. I stand at the countertop, thinking about what I'm going to eat. Suddenly, without any warning, I experience my first sciatic attack of pain level 9-10. Any slight adjustment in my standing position creates more pain. My wife is out of the bathroom. For roughly the next 10 minutes, all I can say is "ouch". Thankfully, I'm not swearing. My wife doesn't know what to do. I don't respond to any questions. All I can say is "ouch"... I don't recall screaming or yelling or obscenities. I strive, mindful and thankful that my daughter is still asleep. Afterwards, I ask my wife to take me to the urgent care nearest to our home. We discover I can't get into our car. We borrow her parents light-SUV and head over to urgent care, arriving at 12:45AM. I use prayer to keep myself under control. It brings me some comfort. I am treated and sent home. I am prescribed percocet, valium, and 4 day supply of prednisone anti-inflammatory steroids. I am discharged. Pain still there, bearable at a 4 or 5... the pain meds quite haven't kicked in yet. I am able to fall sleep when I get home.
July 13, 2008 (early morning, near dawn): I have another sciatic nerve attack. My screaming wakes my daughter. I strive to keep my behavior under control, and eventually I am able to calm down. Later in the morning, I make breakfast for my wife... my soul aflame in the desire to show some appreciation to my wife. I blog the story though, desiring to not forget, and I inadvertently neglect my duties. What's not captured in that blog entry is the sour mood of my wife. She's glad I cooked breakfast, but annoyed that I spent time blogging, while she and my daughter are awake. It's a reminder that blogging always comes last in terms of priorities. Human connections of people I know are more important. This is the primary reason why I haven't blogged since July 13, 2008. I've just had too much to do in the form of familial and professional duties, which I've done poorly or minimalistically due to my physical condition.
July 13, 2008 (late afternoon): My wife has plans to meet with friends. She cleans up the house before we plan to leave. I get another sciatic attack while moving a water sprinkler. For 30 minutes or so, I lay on my stomach on the couch, praying for it to go away. I eventually move, and realize I need to go to urgent care. It takes me 10 minutes to find a way to get into our car. My wife drives me to urgent care, stays long enough to see me admitted, then leaves to meet her friends. She asks if she wants me to stay. I tell her to go. She's done much for me. I can tell that she needs a break. I get some good advice from the physician, and she tells me to quit staggering my different medications and to increase the medication schedule. She tells me to stick with the most effective ones, that allowing this kind of pain to manifest only worsens my situation. She tells me not worry about the valium and oxycodone addiction. The fact that I'm mindful and trying to prevent an addiction tells her that I'm not the kind of person who is at risk. I take her advice to heart. She dopes me up with morphine; my first time. I call my wife. She and her friends pick me up; we have dinner at California Pizza Kitchen. I'm brave and try an unconventionally flavored pizza. The day ends with a smile. I pray a bit extra that night and I thank my wife for all she's done.
July 15, 2008 (morning): I am notified by my physicians of the preliminary MRI results. Surgery is recommended. Details are scant, I am supposed to get a call from the Neurosurgery department.
July 18, 2008 (afternoon): I finally am contacted by Neuosurgery, although I had made several attempts prior to this date. Triage policies prevented me from making progress. Appointment is scheduled for July 24.
July 19, 2008 (evening): We celebrate our 5 year anniversary at a nice steakhouse. We eat Chateaubriand and lobster. I vow that day to further cut back on beef... that I would only eat it on special occasions and for my favorite Japanese dish (shabu shabu, which requires high-end beef for it to not taste horribly). I figure that as long as I'm reducing my demand for beef, especially fast-food beef, which tends to have a rather negative impact on the environment, I'm at least striving for a worthy ideal, right? My wife and I have a good conversation over dinner. I'll summarize this in a future blog entry. Best gift... no sciatic attack.
July 24, 2008 (late morning): I meet with a neurosurgeon, although the appointment takes a bit of time to acquire thanks to the HMO's bureaucracy. The MRI evidence is damning... ruptured disc with 7-8 on a 1-10 scale. Surgery is advised and explained. I stare at the MRIs again, comparing the current damage with a prior disc herniation from 3 and 4 years ago, still evident on the new MRIs. The evidence looks really bad. In my heart I know I can beat this without surgery, but at what cost? I haven't had any sciatic attacks recently, but I can't pick up my daughter. Surgery gets scheduled for July 31, with the promise that I can cancel any time.
July 28, 2008 (morning): I have a surgery pre-op appointment with a Physician's Assistant. The nature of the surgery is described again. I mention that I've been off meds for a few days, and I haven't seen a lot of real pain. He explains surgery is my choice. If there's no pain, I can call it off. If it gets worse, I can schedule another surgery. I don't want surgery... in my heart of hearts, I feel it is the right thing to do, but I don't want it. I know I can beat this without surgery if I want to... but again, at what cost? Longer recovery? More work for my wife? Reduced efficiency at work? I know it's my ego at work and a personal bias against surgery, telling me that I can beat this. Prayer affirms that I can beat this if I want to without surgery. The decision to pursue it becomes an issue of duty and compassion...
July 28, 2008 (evening): In prayer, I truly come to accept that I need the surgery. It's the more right thing to do. My daughter deserves a dad that can pick her up and hold her, sooner rather than later. She doesn't understand, and it breaks my heart every time she wants me to hold her and I can't. My wife assures me that she would support me if I decided not to pursue surgery, but I explain my reasoning... and I do it for her, too... so that I might be able to better fulfill my duties as a husband. I feel good... I finally have my certitude.
July 30, 2008 (evening): I pray to God, to affirm my decision to pursue surgery. I pray that he accept it as my desire as part of my duties as a father and a husband and as an act to slay a part of my ego. I pray that he provide me with a speedy recovery. I mention that I miss our early morning communions. My certitude is affirmed; I am awash in the love of God. My soul is set aflame; and I give thanks and praise to God through my tears of joy.
July 31, 2008 (from 11am-6pm): I check in at 11am. They prep me from 11:40am to about 2pm. I manage to get my obligatory prayer around noon. I find myself muttering prayers to myself. I don't feel nervous. I have little pain. I am eager for the surgery, and I am awash in the feelings that I get when I feel God's presence. After prep, my wife and parents are admitted to my prep area. They keep me company. Finally, I am rolled to the operating room... OPERATING ROOM #9. How auspicious. God be praised! I know... somewhat superstitious, but it's not like I prayed for that outcome. I just took it as a sign... a smile from God, if you will. The operation takes roughly 1-2 hrs. The roll me into the recovery room. Literally, 9 MINUTES after I arrive in the recovery area, I wake... groggy but awake. I didn't really know this until later in the evening when my wife and I went to bed. My wife explained that the nurse had stated this detail in front of me... still, 9 MINUTES? Yet another smile from God, I suppose.

It's 5:40am now. I need to rest, but that's the story so far.

the power of prayer

2008-07-13T16:53:46Z

Yesterday evening, my family and my wife's family attended the wedding of a family friend. The wedding was a wonderfaul affair, but I did exercise some bad judgment by engaging in activities that caused me physical pain. I took a number of photographs that required uncomfortable postures and I made the mistake (out of instinct) to pick up my daughter and carry her for a short distance. My wife chastized me for those activities and was upset at the possibility of having to drive my butt to the emergency room again.

Early this morning at 1AM, I mumbled about pain in my sleep and my wife asked me if it was time to take my medication. I woke up at the question, and replied yes. I asked her how she knew and she was mumbling about pain but that she didn't know I was asleep. Tired though she was, she gracious got me a glass of water, gathered the 2 appropriate medications from the possible 8 containers of drugs, and administered the medication. I eventually fell asleep...

... but I woke up later at 5AM in excruciating pain... probably, level 7 or 8. The screams from my pain also woke up my daughter. I eventually stood up and hobbled painfully to the bathroom sink to drink numerous glasses of water due to feeling dehydrated, while my wife went to get my daughter and feed her in hopes to calm my daughter. I eventually hobbled back and stood at the side of the bed, trying to get my composure. The pain in my left leg and foot was so intense that I feared opening my medications and spilling them everywhere. I recited some prayers and was eventually able to draw enough strength to find the correct 3 medications, open them containers, and remove and administer the correct dosage.

I still found myself standing at the side of the bed after ingesting the medication. The pain was too execruciating to move back into bed. So, I found myself praying again for about 10 minutes. I recited the prayers that I knew from memory and ad-libbed a spontaneous prayer or two. Although the pain was still great, I felt the inner strength from God filling me enough that I could climb back into bed.

The pain was still there, and I found myself moaning uncontrollably from the muscle spasms and the sharp leg/foot pain. I kept muttering prayers quietly, trying to keep the pain from overhwhelming me. To make matters worse, my daughter wanted to crawl onto my back and cuddle. I remember sterny telling her no and my wife did her best to get my daughter to cuddle with her. I even tried to adjust my posture but that increased my physical pain dramatically. Even the smallest adjustments in posture resulted in terrible pain. At some point, my wife moved my daughter off the bed, who then proceeded to cry.

Having exhausted much of her patience due to lack of sleep, my wife took my daughter downstairs. I found myself alone. I began to pray again, reciting the prayers that I knew. Eventually, I found myself ad-libbing prayers again. The prayer started out like this.

The pain is strong, but God is stronger.
Keep the pain at bay.
Enter my heart and evict any guests.
Grant me Thy sufficient help.

At some point, I began to ask God for forgiveness for all that I've done. I felt weak, with the realization that having turned away so many years ago resulted in so much potential from being realized. I began to cry. I begged God that I might be a better servant. I wept knowing that there were better reasons to seek out God, but I acknowledged that all of this was probably a test that I learn to rely on God without shame or fear. I found myself asking God to assist me to share the bounty of wealth and love that He has poured into my heart. I found myself wanting to do more... to become a worthy servant. I acknowledged so many of my past promises to God that I've broken over the years, but I renewed a promise - the promise to strive in service to God. I also promised that even if I found myself having stumbled that I would rise above my mistake and strive to correct my mistake and seek out apologies from God and those that I may have wronged.

I admitted that I could not promise to always be faithful or that I would always do what was right. I admitted that there were many mistakes that I have yet to make. Yet, I promised that I would try and that I would never truly abandon God again. I wept into my hands, asking God to lend me his strength and wisdom, and I found my earlier prayer evolving again. At 7AM, I managed to get out of bed and I headed for the shower, while I invoked a prayer similar to the following.

My physical pain is strong, but You are stronger.
My physical pain is terrible, but absence from You is more terrible, still.
My physical pain is painful, but pain-induced idleness creates greater pain.

I am dumb and foolish, but you are Wise and All-Knowing.
I know not what I do, nor do I know what I should do.
Grant me your wisdom, for it makes me wise and knowing.

I am weak and distracted, but You are free and untethered.
I find myself held back my weakness and ignorance.
Lend me your strength and wisdom, so that I might be a better and steadfast servant.

I have bitterness, hate, and vengeance in my heart, but You are full of compassion, love, and fairness.
Evict from my heart those inuninvited guests so that it is a fitting place for Your presence.
Evict from my body, the serpent that bites and causes me grief.

I must act, Lord. I must act.
You have bestowed me with wisdom so that I know to never abandon Thee.
Lend me more wisdom that I might know what I should do.
Lend me more wisdom that I might know how to act within my abilities and resources.

I must act, Lord. I must act.
You have bestowed me with strength to keep the pain at bay.
Lend me more strength that I might rise above my weakness act on what I know.
Lend me more strength that I might fulfill my duties and obligations.

I must act, Lord. I must act.
You are truly the Help in Peril.
You have blessed me with many bounties and overwhelmed me with love and compassion.
I know with certitude and conviction that I must now act.
The time for pain-induced idleness is over. Oh Lord, I will act.

There were many other aspects to my ad-libbed prayer... too many to recall now. I remember reciting certain verses in Latin, chanting Allah-u-abha, and some other things. I found myself uttering random praises of God... all in the moment and in a rather stream-of-conscious manner... how I wish I could remember, but they are cast to the wind, and it's more important for me that I know that God heard... God answered. God gave.

After showing, I put on a kimono and headed down the stairs. At this point, it was close to 7:30AM and the pain medication still had not given me noticeable physical relief. I felt some numbness in the face, evidence that the medication was working... just not working very well. Still, I was glad... I felt God's presence. I felt Him carryiing me through this... for once, I had empirical evidence that with enough desire on my part and persistence in prayer and reliance on God could allow me to feel His joyful presence.

Every step down the stairs carried incredible pain, but I kept reciting This pain is great, but God is greater. Downstairs, I found my wife asleep on the couch. My daughter, too, was asleep but she was her Winnie-the-pooh toddler's couch. I went into the kitchen and search the ingredients I had at my disposal. I ended up settling on pancakes made with soy milk... (somewhat dense and less tasty than pancakes made with cow's milk).

Still, cooking and moving was a challenge. I was still cooking around 8AM and the pain killers only started to kick in with efficacy around then. I found myself being able to move my legs in something more than a hobble. Moving up and down the stairs still proves to be painful. Bending down or even leaning slighty is still impossible without excruciating pain. I must fall to a bended knee, which results in excruciating pain, but I find myself reciting On bended knee my pain is great; God's strength greater still.

It's now 11:30AM. My wife has dressed our daughter and finished her shower. I've been typing away for a bit more than 2 hours. I need to finish cleaning up the remnants of breakfast. I've been mindful of God this entire morning. I hope to be mindful of God the entire day.

learning through the ouch

2008-07-11T10:04:25Z

Over the past week, my condition has worsened significantly, as evidenced by the waking at 2AM. Last Wednesday morning resulted in a trip to the emergency room. Thursday morning was spent updating my doctors with an email. And here, Friday morning, spent composing a livejournal entry.

This is the third night in a row that I've woken from slumber due to level 8 pain in my left leg and foot. Being diagnosed with degenerative disc disease lends me to believe that all of the recent back/leg/foot pain is simply a manifestation of that condition. Dealing with the health care bureaucracy of an HMO has been annoying, but I know the doctors, themselves, have been very responsive to new information as they get it. They still have their hands tied in some ways, but I've been exercising patience and doing my best to not fault them for things that are not their doing. I am thankful that I even have health care and the conveniences of email and a cell phone. I am mindful that such things that I take for granted are luxuries for others.

This sciatic pain has thrown a wrench in my daily routine. I'm not exercising daily. Doing even the most basic of physical therapy exercises can lead to exacerbating the pain. I'm praying 3 times a day, including my obligatories, instead of 5 times a day. I obviously haven't been journaling much or doing a lot of meditation due to general fatigue induced by my condition and the medications. I'm also not learning any new prayers because I haven't been driving to work.

Yet, I have learned a couple of things that I would not have learned, had it not been for my back condition.

The first is that my eyes have been opened to the possibility of actually using public transportation for my commute. Lately, a co-worker and neighbor has been driving us to the train station and we've been taking the train to our place of employment. (I can't drive because of the medication.) Using public transportation is not only cheaper (due to rising fuel prices), I'm also helping to minimize my carbon footprint and reduce traffic congestion overall. Of course, there exists the inconvenience of my commute being 2 hours long, instead of 45 minutes. Those 2 hours have been unproductive and idle, but I just got a book on Zoroasterianism so I'll keep myself busy with that for now.

Longer term, I might arrange to take an earlier train, acquire a wireless broadband for my laptop so that I can work while in transit, exercise at the workplace gym, resume work at my desk, leave at a reasonable hour, and work during transit home. I really don't like this option though, as I prefer the activities of memorizing prayers while driving or the possibility of re-learning a foreign language using Pimsleur audio programs. There are too many distractions on the train and I need to speak out loud to do either activity, which would make me that annoying guy on public transportation. So for now, I sense that I'll only be taking public transportation only while my back hurts.

The other interesting thing that I've learned is that reciting the prayers that I have memorized is a good tool for pain management... much better than screaming and crying... although sometimes, the pain is so much that's all I've been able to do. Still, I could learn to do without screaming obscenities. A few days ago, I did have a pain-induced wrathful outburst that ruined my wife's mood while she was driving me to work. The outburst wasn't directed towards anybody but I found myself screaming obscenities while smacking different parts of my car's interior in reaction to the pain. Understandable? Yes, given the level of pain and the constant duration of it. Still, I could learn to do better. I bought her flowers that night. I did feel bad about it.

Still, in all of this discomfort, I see how God works little miracles to deliver what I need. I've also seen how wonderful my wife has been, tending to my needs and graciously dealing with the wakings at 2AM. She really has been loving. And then, there's my daughter, who has given some of the cutest smiles and hugs recently and has been showing evidence of missing me while at work. I am thankful for the many things that I have...

woke up with another memory I didn't have yesterday

2008-07-04T16:31:13Z

The synchronicity of this morning's random prayer choice ending with "He Who provideth the means and unlocketh doors" was a bit amusing, as I woke up with a memory I didn't have yesterday... or at least, I sense it's a real memory. The memory is regards to how my friendship with LRN ended years ago. I've been in contact with LRN since my reclamation of faith. In her last email from a few days ago, she gave me the constructive criticism that I was looking for.

She said that the perceived problems could be improved by becoming a better listener. She said she stopped talking because I didn't understand how she had grown over the years. She also mentioned my ego might have been part of it.

Her criticisms are valid. I sense that I do have selective hearing. The ego is a problem. That's the part that made the most sense to me. My wife recently complained that I sometimes treat her like she's stupid and that I don't give her enough credit for the intelligence that she does have. Looking back at a recent email exchange with my best friend, I see the need for humility... humility happens, but it's not yet instinctive for me.

Perhaps that's why I'm so intent on searching for past mistakes... that I'm most humble when I have to confess a mistake to the person that I've wronged. I think it's good practice as the task requires humility to admit my weaknesses in spite of my ego and it requires a good deal of honesty to recognize that I have such flaws.

In any case, I wrote LRN this morning and related a memory that was unlocked last night. I remember chatting with her over ICQ. LRN was angry because I had disclosed something to a friend. She had felt that what I had told disclosed was told to me in confidence. She also accused me of spying for this friend. I remember a whole lot of "whatever" ending our last ICQ chat. We had a mutual parting; we both stopped talking to each other.

I don't remember what I had disclosed to this friend. I sense it was something about her feelings about or for this person. It's sufficient for me to know that LRN felt it a private thought that ought not to have been shared. I remember the friend already knowing or not acting surprised when told the information. I remember this because the friend revealed something that LRN had said that was in line with whatever I had revealed. I sense that the friend may have even said that if LRN was trying to hide that information, she was doing a poor job.

I also remember talking to the friend after our last ICQ chat. I remember relating the chat, quoting from it, and asking the friend a whole lot of "What the fuck did I do? Is she being rational about this?" I remember using the friend to test me, using the chat record as evidence... as if to prove to myself that I wasn't the one that was being irrational and screwed up. I remember the friend laughing (although not in a condescending manner)... it's as if the friend saw things as a comedy of errors. The friend told me to not to worry about it, that LRN had a bit of growing up to do, and that things would get patched between them. I remember saying that I wasn't worried because I didn't care and that I was done with LRN until she grew up.

However... I sense that at some point before LRN accused me of spying, my heart of hearts did accuse me of spying, as well. I sense that the accusation came the moment I told the friend the information. I sense I wasn't spying until I revealed the information... or perhaps I became a spy when I revealed the information because I ought to have known better, even though LRN didn't put big flashing signs that said "don't reveal this at all". I sense that there was a rational/justifiable context for revealing the information... that I didn't reveal it for the sake of making it known. However, I sense that the underlying motivation was less pure and there was some bitterness that allowed me to act with poor judgment. I sense that the friend's claim of already knowing quickly eased that anxiety though, which probably explains why I was so willing to inform LRN that I had revealed the information. After all, if I was spying, why would I let her know I was spying?

I ended the letter with an apology... I apologized for my "moment of spying" and writing off our friendship as something not worth keeping. The former was my wrath at work. The latter my arrogance and pride. I still have a lot of growing up to do, but I'm starting to see how past threads weave into the present.

my wife's good attitude

2008-07-02T15:52:45Z

Last night, I inadvertently shirked some evening chores. I had spent my time composing an email to some local Baha'is. The email included questions regarding marriage laws and personal status. The email did not get sent due to mailserver issues. This morning, I opted to delete that composition... I felt that the content could have been better and accepted that composing the email was more to allow me to reflect on the matter.

Despite the fact that I didn't help with any of the evening chores, my wife was kind in how she requested that I try to do such personal activities after my daughter goes to bed. It's a valid criticism, and I had come to the same conclusion independently. Still, I was very glad to see her have a good attitude about it.

In fact, she's had a good attitude in general. I woke her from sleep last night and asked her to massage my back. The back massage helped a bit, but I think I was comforted more by her willingness to do it. At 3AM this morning, I got a massive leg cramp and she rushed instinctively to help. Again... she had a good attitude about it.

last night...

2008-07-01T15:49:13Z

I spent an hour journaling Monday night... and I still managed to screw up and I lost the draft while writing in the browser. Still, I didn't let the event frustrate me, and I went upstairs and joined my tired wife rather than try to rewrite it. It felt good to do that. The more meaningful events of Monday night were:

a spontaneous song/prayer incorporating the Hidden Words
trigger-point massaging my wife's poor back and being able to talk about the Baha'i Faith with her
realizing that I'm close to reclaiming my ability to love with abandon

The prayer was wonderful... it's a nice way for me to confirm my understanding of the Hidden Words that speak to me.

I enjoyed the opportunity to share principles with the Baha'i Faith with my wife. I explained the reason behind the prohibitions on alcohol consumption and gambling. The gambling issue was interesting, as there are numerous gray areas where one could technically argue that an activity is gambling but the context makes it acceptable. For example, numerous fund-raisers for good causes often do lottery draws, yet it'd be hard to condemn such things as a purveyor of vice. I talked about casinos, friendly rounds of bunco or casino night, Catholic bingo nights, and state lotteries. I noted the importance of factors of mindset, attitude, the scale of profit or risk, whether it was habitual, and whether there was actually any social ill that stems from those particular activities. I think Baha'is would be hard-pressed to argue that old ladies spending $5 a month on bunco prizes is hardly a problem compared to old ladies gambling away their social security checks at a casino. In the end, each of us is encouraged to weigh things for ourselves and to measure the merit of any action that we pursue.

The alcohol issue was a bit more straight-forward and bit less gray... essentially, too many social ills stem from alcohol consumption. There's nothing evil about alcohol, but whatever good, happy temperament that alcohol might enable in an individual ought to be attainable without alcohol... to rely on it as a crutch is unfortunate. Alcohol carries too many terrible risks (violent behavior, drunk driving, abdication of responsibility, etc.) and it just ought to be left alone. I even used an example of how some people we know can ruin the good mood of a party when the wrong thing is said while slightly intoxicated. If everybody in the world could drink alcohol responsibly and be merry and nothing bad happened, the prohibition would probably not exist. As it stands, that's not the case and it's up to each individual Baha'i to do their best to role-model good behavior. Like Jesus said, it's not what you eat what makes you evil... it's what you do... and alcohol tends to enable more problematic behaviors than it does positive behaviors.

I enjoyed massaging my wife. It feels good to be able to make her feel better. I'm also eager to improve my trigger-point massaging technique.

As for the last issue... the lost journal entry dealt with the last bulleted item. I will write another journal entry again... it's not yet resolved, so perhaps it's fine that I lost the progress report on it. Still though, I feel close to reclaiming that prize.

it's the little things that matter; proportionate anger is important

2008-06-30T02:17:28Z

My wife and I went campground camping this weekend, with a number of other families. On early Sunday morning, the wind picked up enough to wake me and concern me that some of the items around our camping area might be getting blown away. So, I got out of bed, cleaned up the area, and before I knew it, I was done, and the time was 4:30AM. Wow. The first day in a long time since I was able to wake before dawn. I was thrilled and ecstatic, so I grabbed the car keys, my prayer beads, my prayer book, my camera, and drove off to a nearby day-use area where I figured I could do some praying at dawn and capture the sunrise through a lens.

It was a wonderful morning. I was gone for about 90 minutes, and I had a blast. I felt really refreshed, even though I wasn't able to get any great pictures of the sunrise due to the fact that I never really had a good view of the east horizon. I returned to the campground around 6:00 AM...

... to a wife, who was downright angry that I failed to let her know where I had driven off to. I yield to the point that I should have mentioned where I had gone, but it's not like I didn't expect to be gone so long that it would be a problem. I brought my cell phone, and she had her cell phone at the campsite. She expressed worry, but all I got was anger... and I felt it was a disproportionate amount of anger. Her tone of incredulity at my explanation of dawn prayers for 90 minutes didn't help.

Still, I tried my best to let it go. The moment reminded me of an incident in Las Vegas, though. We had gone to a day spa together, and I found myself waiting for her to finish. The time spent waiting went from worry to anger, as our time-line for travel, dinner reservations, and a show started to become threatened. When she finally emerged, my tone was unbelievably grumpy, and I managed to killjoy whatever emotional and psychological benefit she had from the spa. The rest of the evening went horribly, and she gave me the silent treatment... and I didn't seem to care. The fact of the matter was, my behavior was unnecessarily angry, and everything that evening would have just been fine had I not been suck a dick about it.

... and here I was, NOTHING was really at stake. There was no time-table for activities, and it's not like she hasn't seem me out of bed before dawn. Had she bothered to try and contact me, she would have found that it was quite easy. Instead, she just let her imagination run wild with me being overmedicated on vicodin (which I wasn't because I had not had any since early Saturday night) and driving off the road, or me uncharacteristically driving off to the hospital and not telling her that I had a health condition, or some other crap "worry" story. The fact of that matter was that she had every right to worry and had every right to be slightly upset, but her tone and anger level were disproportionate to my mistake. Her only stated inconvenience (beyond letting her imagination run wild) was that she had left a lot of room on our camping mattress, with the expectation that I would return soon... and my daughter ended up hogging much of my wife's sleeping real estate.

I was really pissed after arriving back to my wife... I really wasn't thinking the way God would want, but I was doing my best to restrain myself and to see it from her point of view. It helped a little. I went back to sleep that morning, intent that I wouldn't sink to my wife's behavior of silent treatment in Vegas... but before I fell asleep, I told her of my assessment and made a point that she effectively took me from feeling really happy and good to feeling pissy and angry.

The rest of the day went reasonably well... we didn't talk about it, nor did I make a point to refer to it in any way. I'll have to remember this lesson though. The tone and level for any angry confrontation should be proportional to the nature of the mistake and the problems that ensued. It's as much of a lesson for me, as she does make the occasional mistake that doesn't deserve an overly grumpy Badhras.