The Path to God.
"It is the road to God that matters now, the ragged road, the wood...Would that first world, bared now to the word God, wade with you, through wood, into the weald and weather of the stars?"
The Road Home - Gillian Allnutt
Tall, sweeping trees line the sidewalk, leaving me to duck under their branches laden with red and yellow and brown Autumn leaves as I make my way down the street. It's a quiet, sunny afternoon and a slight breeze is in the air. For once, I am whole and unbroken. For once, everything around me is startlingly clear, and detailed, and I can see each groove carved in the aged tree trunk beside me and the patterned veins in the dead leaves that lie at my feet and I can hear the silence of this street and the sound of my blood pounding through my ears and the buildings have never seemed so square and the cars so glaringly bright with the sunlight bouncing off their roofs and the people never so solid. The world around me is no longer blotted out by some crazy, manic obsession filling me. This hole I've had in my heart has finally been filled by something much greater, much deeper, a higher purpose that's driving me along.
It's the kind of belief that rather than eclipse my vision, complements it instead so that everything-everything- in my line of sight has begun to fall into place. And the further down the street I go, the more I see that testifies to the integrity of this belief, so that there's not even place for a shadow of a doubt to enter my mind. The euphoric feeling of release, of true 'lightness of being' it's giving rise to is overwhelming, and I find I have to restrain myself from breaking into a song and dance, right there on the road, in public. The world can never be the same again. Is everything and everyone really just the same as before? Do I look the way I always have when there is so much change inside of me? And I marvel at how and why it's taken me as long as it has to recognize this belief that, for the greater part of my life, has always been right in front of my eyes. I had heard about it and read about it as a kid in talks and lectures and songs and books but not until now, have I been able to appreciate what was being said the whole time. Not until now have I been able to comprehend the meaning of nearness to the Creator and Tawakkul (reliance on Allah (swt)) and I know there is still much work to be done. I can't afford any complacency with this fallible, human heart I have in case the feeling slips away from me. But at the same time, I know, deep down, that this feeling has the potential to be eternal, because it's Source is Eternal, and no matter how stormy this street might get, it will always be within reach because Allah is "the most trustworthy hand-hold, that never breaks" (Surah Baqarah 2:256).
And for now, Alhamdulillah, it is within my grasp. For now, the sun shines like it's never shone before, for now the sky is blue, and I breathe it all in.
The Road Home - Gillian Allnutt
Tall, sweeping trees line the sidewalk, leaving me to duck under their branches laden with red and yellow and brown Autumn leaves as I make my way down the street. It's a quiet, sunny afternoon and a slight breeze is in the air. For once, I am whole and unbroken. For once, everything around me is startlingly clear, and detailed, and I can see each groove carved in the aged tree trunk beside me and the patterned veins in the dead leaves that lie at my feet and I can hear the silence of this street and the sound of my blood pounding through my ears and the buildings have never seemed so square and the cars so glaringly bright with the sunlight bouncing off their roofs and the people never so solid. The world around me is no longer blotted out by some crazy, manic obsession filling me. This hole I've had in my heart has finally been filled by something much greater, much deeper, a higher purpose that's driving me along.
It's the kind of belief that rather than eclipse my vision, complements it instead so that everything-everything- in my line of sight has begun to fall into place. And the further down the street I go, the more I see that testifies to the integrity of this belief, so that there's not even place for a shadow of a doubt to enter my mind. The euphoric feeling of release, of true 'lightness of being' it's giving rise to is overwhelming, and I find I have to restrain myself from breaking into a song and dance, right there on the road, in public. The world can never be the same again. Is everything and everyone really just the same as before? Do I look the way I always have when there is so much change inside of me? And I marvel at how and why it's taken me as long as it has to recognize this belief that, for the greater part of my life, has always been right in front of my eyes. I had heard about it and read about it as a kid in talks and lectures and songs and books but not until now, have I been able to appreciate what was being said the whole time. Not until now have I been able to comprehend the meaning of nearness to the Creator and Tawakkul (reliance on Allah (swt)) and I know there is still much work to be done. I can't afford any complacency with this fallible, human heart I have in case the feeling slips away from me. But at the same time, I know, deep down, that this feeling has the potential to be eternal, because it's Source is Eternal, and no matter how stormy this street might get, it will always be within reach because Allah is "the most trustworthy hand-hold, that never breaks" (Surah Baqarah 2:256).
And for now, Alhamdulillah, it is within my grasp. For now, the sun shines like it's never shone before, for now the sky is blue, and I breathe it all in.
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