I'm curious if others posting in response to topics relating to Sufi beliefs are receiving email, as I am, offering the position of a writer for a new, online quarterly on Sufism.

It's not your usual spam. Message appears to be individualized. Am hopeful this post is not in conflict with the "Good News Saturdays" policies of this blog which I respect.

I'm not. Maybe they don't like my commentary.

"No guts, no glory"

Almost the same metaphor, attributed to John F Kennedy: Ships are safest in harbor. But that's not what ships are for."

T.L.... more probably, they just don't have an email address for you. I am receiving that as well, it is individualized, and I'm doing some due diligence.

If any of our readers or contributors wish to participate, that's just fine. I have a personal hangup about writing for them because I'm not an expert on Sufiism, or even a Seeker with a teacher (whose permission one would ask anyway, before doing such a thing).

I'm just a guy who likes the stories, poetry, and perspective, and I try to learn from then what I can. Calling oneself a Sufi doesn't make it so - there are standards, and conditions, and one of the most important is "who is your teacher?" (that has accepted you as a Seeker). It's not a new age cult - it's a demanding and serious commitment, one backed by action not words, and refined by silsilas (lit. "chains" or "links") of experiential teaching over 1,000+ years.

Which brings us to T.L. James quote today. Sufiism demands exploration of great depth by the student, and offers the treasures of enlightenment (to use the Buddhist term, Sufis refer to ihshan, haqiqah, or at an even higher level ma'rifah).

Yet the journey is not without its dangers. Judaism's scholars often refer to "Aish Ha'Torah" (the flame of the Old Testament), and in fact this name was adopted by one of the world's largest orthodox-hasidic Jewish education organizations. Deep study can introduce one to the fire that lights and warms, warns the name - or the fire that consumes. Aseh l'cha rav (find yourself a teacher).

Likewise with the practice of Sufiism, which demands the stripping away of many aspects of one's prior conditioning. The practice is rewarding but not easy or safe, and not least of one's safety concerns is the task of finding a true and qualified guide for this journey rather than putting oneself in the hands of a self-proclaimed "Master" or guru. The latter usually outnumber the former, and the seeker's lack of depth in this area makes the task that much harder. Here in the West, most of you probably know enough folks with New Age experiences to relate to what I'm talking about here. It's also posible to devote the time and effort and fail.

For many people, it is probably best that they remain on the shore, happily hearing echoes of the depths in the roaring of the waves and the smell of the salt air (this is an acknowledgment, not a criticism). The treasures of the depths are reserved for those compelled to dare its dangers - and many of those will return empty-handed, or not at all.

All of the spiritual traditions warn that going deep into these matters is dangerous as well as rewarding.

Jung used to say that it was no good looking for integration and individuation until one had his / her ego stuff solidly in place ... there is too much chance of mistaking the energies and symbols one encounters for one's own identity. Some go mad when that happens, some chase after fairy-lights and never return to solid ground and a few, like Hitler, embrace the shadows with disastrous results for many around them.

But for those who are called, who are willing or find they must go, then it can be the adventure of one's life. As the old stories tell us, it is best to go with a guide when you can! And not just any guide, but one who is firmly rooted him/herself. As I noted in my post above, True Thomas didn't get to fair Elf-land on his own, nor did the Queen of Faerie send a low-level messenger to bring him. She herself rode out for him and their journey to her realm was long and hard. And his time there was a long 7 (symbolic) years of service before his journey bore fruit ....

Once you are born, death and suffering are yours. You may keep your boat docked ashore, but that will not spare you the typhoons and other dangers which will pound the dock, and you along with it. "Safety" therefore is an illusion, and there is no guarantee that by going adrift you will find less of it than tied to an anchor, so it is not even "relative safety".

The Way is unescapable.

I don't wish to introduce a discordant note but the assorted Sufi gurus associated with the online writing project, as mentioned in the email, are rather famous, i.e., one was guru to "The Beatles." I'm wondering if the invitation to join them as a writer is not more one intended to attract disciples bearing money. (Bite my tongue for my irreverance.)

Today's quotation reminded me of something once said by the neo-jungian (?) Joseph Campbell:

"Nietzche was the one who did the job for me. At a certain moment in his life, the idea came to him of what he called "the love of your fate." Whatever your fate is, whatever the hell happens, you say, " This is what I need ." It may look like a wreck, but go at it as though it were an opportunity, a challenge. If you bring love to that moment -- not discouragement -- you will find the strength is there. Any disaster you can survive is an improvement in your character, your stature, and your life. What a privilege! This is when the spontaneity of your own nature will have a chance to flow.

Then when looking back at your life, you will see that the moments which seemed to be great failures followed by wreckage were the incidents that shaped the life you have now."

Or it's entirely possible I'm way out in left field. But it strikes me that there is an admonition to give up safe harbor and pursue life's opportunities. Off on a tangent?

Steve

I am too often the skeptic.

Joe, you argue that it's probably best for most people to stay on the shore, but I don't think that's possible. Robert Fulford, in "The Triumph of Narrative," argued that none of us can really see our own lives, that we are too immersed in the details of those lives to see their shape. But, having less detail, we can see someone else's life, have some grasp of its course and meaning. So we are all, in that sense, not in harbor, but in the sea of our own experience. The treasures in the depths may be available in surprising ways (as Steve's quote from Joseph Campbell suggested).