18 January 2023 Dear Companions on the Path, When Hagar and her infant son Ishmael arrived in the Paran desert and Abraham took his leave (peace be upon the three of them), there was no water to be seen. Hagar set Ishmael down and walked back and forth seven times between the hills of Safa and Marwa. Returning to Ishmael, she found that a spring was welling up. It hadn’t been there until she took her walk – not visibly at least. When times are uncertain, sometimes a walk is exactly what is needed to reveal the way forward. Just as lockdown was declared three years ago, Sartaj and I moved into a little house by the river in Richmond. A daily walk, whenever possible, has always been my custom, so I lost no time in exploring our new neighborhood by foot. To my fascination I found that there were virtually no cars on the roads, flâneurs were strolling in droves, and those who weren’t walking were on their porches, waving at passers-by, playing instruments, and drinking tea. I felt as though I had stepped into William Morris’ News from Nowhere. With time, however, normalcy gradually returned. Cars reappeared and porch sitters disappeared. My walks have continued, but – with the exception of an occasional runner or dog walker – the sidewalks are now largely vacant. It isn’t always easy to make time for my walk. I might be tired after a long day, or my inbox might be overflowing. I remind myself then that a walk is not so much an expenditure of energy as an infusion of élan vital. My work won’t suffer but will instead gain a boost if I imbibe fresh air and stretch my limbs. What is more, a walk is a chance to greet human neighbors, cats, birds, trees, clouds, and sunbeams. It might be an opportunity to hail the last sycamore leaf of autumn or the first purple crocus of spring. You never know who is going to cross your path or what the sylphs of the sky will send down. Unless it’s torrential, rain isn’t a reason for me to cancel my walk. Why shouldn’t I bathe outdoors? Walking runs in the family. Hazrat Inayat Khan was known to take regular strolls through Suresnes along a route he especially favored. Even more than Murshid was, my uncle Shaikh al-Mashaik is prone to long walks, in Suresnes and elsewhere, and I’m convinced it’s the secret to his excellent health and longevity. He turned ninety-five last year and is as vigorous as ever, God bless him. Walking also runs in the larger spiritual family of the As it was in the past, so may it be in the future. My grandson Kara-Suleyman, now a year old, has begun taking his first wobbly but determined steps. “To learn wisdom at every step on the path of life is the only work of the Sufi,” said Kara-Suleyman’s great-great-grandfather. Sauntering is an interesting word. Thoreau believed it arose as a description of medieval pilgrims making their way to the sainte terre, or “holy land,” of Jerusalem. The truth is that sacred ground is already under the foot of every saunterer whose soul and soles are in good accord. Now, isn’t it time to step out the door? Yours ever, Inayatiyya Contributions 2022 We are incredibly grateful for all of your gifts in 2022. While we are still tallying totals, preliminarily it looks as though we raised $441,355 in donations last year, including $186,000+ toward our fall appeal and $74,322 from tithes. If you gave a gift in 2022, please look for a letter from us to arrive around the end of this month. Shukran! Inayatiyya International Board This month we commence with a monthly newsletter from the Inayatiyya International Board (IIB). The IIB is leading on our global strategy, working closely with the World Wide Message Council, National Boards, the Astana, and Pir Zia. We have a few updates to share with you. Read more The Zephyr is a monthly newsletter of Inayatiyya, an interfaith mystical fellowship with branches worldwide. For more gatherings, please visit our Inayatiyya Digital Programs Calendar for Spring 2023.
Inayatiyya. Murshid taught his murids to silently intone zikr while walking. The method is outlined in Shah Nizam ad-Din Aurangabadi’s Nizam al-qulub. When going briskly, illa’llahu is said with every footstep. When going slowly, on the right foot one says la, on the left foot ilaha, on the right foot illa, and on the left foot ‘llahu. When going at a moderate pace, on the right foot la ilaha is said, and on the left illa’llahu. Throughout, one is walking in the consciousness of one’s Murshid (and therefore Murshid’s Murshid, etc.).
Pir Zia
Monthly Newsletter, January 2023
