Silver Rule 1: My conscientious self, consider duty as sacred as religion.

For just a moment bring to mind a duty that you hold as sacred, a commitment toward a person or a community. This commitment perhaps may not always be easy to fulfill; it may require sacrifices. Yet one knows so deeply its value that one would happily give up advantages and benefits, and one would willingly endure difficulty and strain in its fulfillment because one knows that when one breathes one’s last breath on earth and the spirit speeds toward one’s creator this will be one’s legacy. In the knowledge of the fulfillment of this task, in upholding one’s sacred responsibility, there is satisfaction, a satisfaction that no one can take from you.

The mark of a true duty is something not done for a reward. The doing of the duty is the reward.

My conscientious self, consider duty as sacred as religion.

Silver Rule 2: My conscientious self, use tact on all occasions.

Tact is not deception. Tact is consideration. Murshid says: “Truth that hits like the blow of a hammer is not the truth.” What is right, what is natural, what rings true depends on the circumstances. It is a matter of harmonizing with the moment. And yet tact need not always be meek and mild; it can be bold and courageous. But it always involves consideration.

Tact, sensitivity to the feelings of others, is the opposite of inattentive, reckless heedlessness, which is self-absorption. Tact means seeing and recognizing the need of another; understanding and harmonizing with the surrounding music of life. It means flowing like water rather than unnecessarily provoking opposition. Antagonism is easily provoked when we are heedless, when we neglect the practice of simple courtesy, simple observances that acknowledge the existence of those around us, and their rights. How many arguments, conflicts, and even wars are the result of unnecessary provocations. How much understanding results when we make an effort to speak and act with tact.

Turning within, can you recall the last time you did not exercise sufficient tact? What were the outer and inner circumstances that gave rise to that misstep? What was the effect on the one who saw or heard it? And what was the effect on you?

Contemplate this experience and a lesson is learned. Our ideal is strengthened by seeing clearly the cause and effect. But let us remember, too, the last occasion on which you did exercise tact effectively, thoughtfully and with consideration. What outer and inner circumstances allowed you to do so? What effect did it have on you?

Let us take strength from this recollection and aim always to increase our capacity to practice tact on all occasions, favorable and unfavorable.

My conscientious self, use tact on all occasions.

Silver Rule 3: My conscientious self, place people rightly in your estimation.

What is the risk in overestimating someone, expecting too much? Can you recall such an experience, and especially, the disappointment that followed afterwards? Such misjudgments are fair neither to the other person nor to oneself. One’s feelings of disappointment or betrayal are the result of an initial false premise.

In underestimating, one is missing what is before one’s eyes, discounting someone, neglecting the potential in the person and thereby missing an opportunity. This is all too common, isn’t it? We fit a person into a category. We stop seeing the person, and see only the category. We hear only what we think they would be saying if we were listening.

Perhaps it isn’t always possible to see another person fully. We are not omniscient. And yet it is in our power to wipe the sleep from our eyes and look with unclouded vision. It’s a matter of being open, attentive, and conscious in every relationship.

Being seen and esteemed rightly is a blessing. We are not flattered by insincere and facile praise, but when someone sees the actual qualities of our inner being—qualities which are, perhaps, not yet visible to the unseeing eyes of the world—these qualities are thereby encouraged to shine out more brightly. Having ourselves been properly seen, and thus blessed, it is natural to seek to see others likewise.

My conscientious self, place people rightly in your estimation.

Silver Rule 4: My conscientious self, be no more to anyone than you are expected to be.

This might take us aback because we feel that it seems stingy to be only what we are expected to be. We might feel we should exceed others’ expectations. And yet it is important to reflect on our motivation. What drives our need to be more than we are expected to be? We believe our intentions to be good—but is that what is really wanted, what is really needed? Does our gesture really have to do with the other person, or does it have to do more with what we wish to project? There are many causes concerned with saving the world and saving souls, and yet many such causes pay little heed to what the people they propose to save really want and need. This is presumption, well intended though it may be. This rule asks us to pause and seek to know from the other what is wanted, and only then, if one can help, to help.

Call to mind a situation where you’ve felt pressured and jostled by someone who, in their heart-of-hearts, perhaps genuinely intended to be of service, but didn’t know how and as a result caused more harm than good.

Then switch positions and put yourself into the shoes of someone in your life who might not be ready for what you’re offering them. Consider a different stance so as not to withdraw your sympathy, but to care in a different way, to introduce in your attitude and behavior a note of independence and patience—a readiness to be of service when the opportunity arises but with no compulsive need to do anything.

My conscientious self, be no more to anyone than you are expected to be.

Silver Rule 5: My conscientious self, have regard for the feelings of every soul.

Now that sounds very challenging! Wouldn’t it incapacitate us? It is difficult enough to bear the burden of our own hopes and fears. We might not be able to stand the strain of accommodating those of others. And because we have that concern, because we fear to be overwhelmed, we refrain from extending our sympathy unreservedly.

And yet if one reads the rule closely, it does not say subordinate yourself to the feelings of every soul. The rule doesn’t require us to change our mind or submit to anyone’s wishes. It asks us just to listen, to sympathize, and to seek to understand – to step momentarily into another person’s shoes and look through his or her eyes. That person’s story is as compelling as one’s own, in its way.

Our story, which we think so highly of, is only one of many myriad fields of vision, all interpenetrating, all included in the divine sight. Yet we have a special responsibility to represent our self. We have a duty to fulfill our purpose. One need not serve another’s purpose. But by simply acknowledging others, one’s willingness strikes a note of harmony.

We might take this as a contemplation: to make an intention for a week or month that every day we will choose a person, animal, plant, or other being and return again and again to identify with him, her or it. This has an expansive effect on one’s capacity for sympathy and understanding.

My conscientious self, have regard for the feelings of every soul.

Silver Rule 6: My conscientious self, do not challenge anyone who is not your equal.

When agitation builds up in the ego, one seeks a valve for release, and it is all too common that this superfluous energy is exerted in aggressive and demeaning words and actions, which are inevitably directed towards those who are less powerful.

It may be an act of courage to stand up to a person who is more powerful than oneself, and who is misusing that power, but it can never be courageous to harangue someone less powerful.

When inner agitation builds upon, this rule acts as a check upon the temptation to lash out unthinkingly. We are challenged to pause, breathe, reflect on the root of our disquietude, and then to act thoughtfully and purposefully.

My conscientious self, do not challenge anyone who is not your equal.

Silver Rule 7: My conscientious self, do not make a show of your generosity.

One of the essential principles of Sufism is the insight that nothing is really random, arbitrary, and meaningless. On the contrary, everything—all of our actions, words, and thoughts—spring from the divine source. And yet in the process of manifestation divine currents working within our personality become distorted and narrowed down, so that in some cases the original impulse is seemingly lost. But it is consoling and encouraging to know that buried deep down even in our worst habits and tendencies of mind there is a pure and good intention.

Consider generosity. We are generous by nature because we belong to the divine, and divine light is essentially generous and providential; it is the wellspring from which all has sprung. But in us it has become, oftentimes, mixed up with other intentions that have to do with our concern about how we are seen in the world. We wish to maximize our good name in the eyes of everyone. Which means that we expend considerable energy speculating about other people’s opinions of us and trying to improve these perceptions. And this vein of thought mixes itself up in our simple, pure, divinely-rooted generosity. The result is that the sincerity of our original generosity is compromised.

To redeem the original purity of our generous nature requires that we hold lightly our concern about other people’s impressions of us. One is able to do this when one, more and more, “lives for God alone.” God beholds us in the inner depths of our own being; we need only live in that witness. Recognize that the world is filled with many vantage points—that we and everyone else are seen from various perspectives—and be at ease with this. No other person on earth sees the whole of you. Still there is a glance, radiating out of eternity that perceives all.

We have a wonderful example of this kind of generosity in our life and that is the example of the Earth itself, and the divine source of the Earth. How abundantly we are nourished, sustained, and continuously provided for with unstinting generosity. And yet the Giver makes no self-assertion, no imposition upon us. The Giver remains so hidden that we live in a world in which it has become commonplace to doubt the existence of the Giver. So thoroughly has the Giver hidden itself in the gift! This is a state of generosity that we must aspire to.

Murshid uses the expression “quiet working.” Without fanfare, render simple quiet service. Murshid uses a remarkable image in speaking about what it is to share the divine message – one must be like a person who wishes to feed the birds when the birds are timid and will not come close. You have to hide yourself and throw the crumbs. This is the opposite of making a show of one’s generosity.

My conscientious self, do not make a show of your generosity.

Silver Rule 8: My conscientious self, do not ask a favor of those who will not grant it you.

For a moment let us pause and revive the memory of having ardently asked for something and having been refused. And then recall a memory of something having been asked of you ardently, a request that for reasons of your own you could not accept, and the impact of the negative answer on the other person.

This is a rule that pertains to relationships. It asks us to bring our full awareness to our relationships rather than losing ourselves in such self-absorption that we have no insight into the thoughts, feelings, and inclinations of those around us. When we do so we are again and again caught off guard and surprised by others’ reactions. Others do not meet our expectations; we are disappointed time after time, and the accumulation of disappointments leads to depression and hopelessness—all because, in the first instance, we have been unrealistic in our assessment.

We must learn to moderate our expectations to bring them in line with sober, perceptive insight into the people around us, their ways of thinking and behaving, and their motivations, instead of being so completely caught up in our own needs, wishes, ambitions that we can see nothing else. The more that we are able to understand the perspectives of other people, the more immune to disappointment, and the more capable of tolerance, we will be. Rather than rushing in headlong, we will engage with others from a spirit of interdependence, fellowship, and mutuality. Just as we do not like it when we are put on the spot and imposed upon, when we make a request, we must appreciate the situation of the other. We must ask: what are the factors that would reasonably prevent that person from being ready to accede to our request? It doesn’t mean we have to become utterly pessimistic; there may be good reason to be hopeful, but let us be realistic. Whenever we are disappointed, it always due to a lack of realism.

My conscientious self, do not ask a favor of those who will not grant it you.

Silver Rule 9: My conscientious self, meet your shortcomings with a sword of self-respect.

Shortcomings: we all have them. We are human. We are ephemeral and imperfect. And imperfection can be uncomfortable. One tries hard to repress the awareness of one’s imperfections, trying to project a picture of perfection and infallibility, trying to push deep down the reality of our fragility and brokenness. But of course imperfection cannot be escaped, and the deception proves far more dangerous than the original limitation.

Another response is to succumb to one’s shortcomings, to wallow in them, to hopelessly confess one’s self low and ignoble. And this is just as dangerous and debilitating. But there is a third way. And this is what Murshid is pointing us to.

The third way is to address our shortcomings with clarity, understanding, compassion, hope, and faith. It means seeing that we have been created imperfect, and that our very imperfection means that there is room in us for growth, change, and movement—room for transformation. Perfection is not a far-off, icy ideal. Perfection is the process of moving toward greater depth and fullness, a process that proceeds in increments. And each forward movement is a glowing act.

A great Sufi once said that the instant of time is a sharp sword that cuts away the guilt and regret of the past and the avarice of the future. This means living fully present in the instant. A sword pierces the surface and cuts into the depth. A sword is straight, like the straightness of the spine, which is conducive to clarity. And the sword is polished steel, shimmering and bright. Can one meet one’s limitations with acute sharpness of vision, and with compassion and hope?

Pause for a moment and invoke if you will, inwardly, a limitation that you perceive in your life, an aspect of your life that does not match up with the perfect picture of who you feel that you should be. The word “should” raises a question. What is the basis of the compulsion that prompts you to be something other than what you are? Is it an unhealthy one? Is it from outside of yourself? Guilt and shame? Or is there, on the contrary, the sense of hearing the call of destiny: an urging emanating out of the fullness of one’s total being, inspiring one with the image of capacities that are as yet latent and which are stirring within, seeking fuller expression? Then consider one’s shortcomings, one’s imperfection in the light of this latent power, beauty and grace. Consider the state of an infant or egg or seedling as compared with the fully grown, fully realized adult of the species; perhaps one’s imperfection is like this. And even in the awkwardness and perhaps distortion there is already the promise of what is to emerge. One sees one’s self with the divine glance, the glance of beneficence.

My conscientious self, meet your shortcomings with a sword of self-respect.

Silver Rule 10: My conscientious self, let not your spirit be humbled in adversity.

The wheel of fortune continuously revolves and fortunes rise and fall; wealth is gained and lost. Fame is gained and lost. Power is gained and lost. When we invest our spirit in circumstances, as our circumstances change our spirit rises or falls: when we prosper we are thrilled, when our fortune declines we are despondent and in despair. We are subject to circumstance; we are the victims of fate. But when the spirit’s meaning, purpose, and satisfaction indwell, circumstances are secondary. Whether one enjoys riches and power or is impoverished and powerless, the spirit remains connected to the Source, and it flourishes. It is not dependent on any outer thing or condition. Whatever may be thought about you, whatever may be said about you, is ultimately irrelevant, because the spirit basks in the glow of Eternal Light. Then one no longer need fear the world and its vicissitudes because one is in the world but not of the world. That is why the dervishes—who wear dusty, tattered robes and possess nothing—when they meet each other, hail each other saying, “O King of Kings, O Emperor of Emperors.” To the eyes of the world this seems ridiculous, and yet they know the secret of true kingship, true queenliness, the freedom of the spirit.

My conscientious self: Let not your spirit be humbled in adversity.