“Try something different. Surrender,” said Mevlana Rumi. In these four words, the beloved Sufi mystic of the 13^th century taught us that the life of a seeker can be blessed and beautiful. Surrender to the Divine Almighty. Let His love suffuse your being. “Saason ki mala pe simroon mein pi ka naam,” sang Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan. Love and surrender can be so effortless, so simple, that it flows with the breath of one’s heart.

Over centuries, Sufi mystics have pondered upon the profound, often paradoxical nature of total surrender (Taslim). Saints have urged their followers to cultivate complete, unconditional acceptance of God’s will in their heart. Man can achieve a state of inner peace and bliss only when he totally and completely trusts his Maker in every situation.

Ibrahim ibn Adham was the illustrious, legendary king of Balkh, the prominent and wealthy metropolis in the historical region of Khorasan, which spans modern-day northern Afghanistan. One day, the king purchased a slave and a beautiful dialogue unfolded between them, which became a foundational teaching on absolute surrender.

Ibrahim asked him, “What is your name?”

The slave replied, “Whatever you choose to call me.”

“What do you like to eat?” Ibrahim asked.

“Whatever you give me to eat.”

“What kind of clothes do you prefer to wear?”

“Whatever you clothe me in.”

“And what work do you wish to do?” Ibrahim inquired.

“Whatever you command me to do.”

Finally, Ibrahim asked, “But what is your actual desire?”

The slave looked at him and asked plaintively, “What does a servant have to do with desire? My desire is only what my master wills.”

It is said that upon hearing the words of the slave, Ibrahim wept bitterly. He fell to his knees and cried out to God: “O Lord, I have never truly understood what it means to be a servant until today. This man has taught me the reality of surrender.” Later, overcome by his love for the Divine Almighty, Ibrahim ibn Adham famously renounced his throne to become a wandering Sufi dervish.

Some may consider surrender to be an act of passive abdication. It is not so. A seeker achieves the blessed state of surrender to the Divine Almighty when through loving practice, he is able to let go of his individual ego, the nafs. Steadily, the seeker reaches out for the infinite ocean of Divine Reality (Haqq). When he loses himself in the Divine and achieves the blessed state of fanaa (annihilation of the self), then the seeker achieves ultimate liberation and finds himself in the divine glory of the Almighty.

The 9th-century Persian mystic Hazrat Bayazid Bastami was once deep in prayer, completely consumed by divine longing. He heard an inner voice ask him:

“O Bayazid, what is it that you want from Us?”

Hazrat Bayazid replied: “I want to want nothing, because I am the wanted, and You are the Wanters. My desire is to have no desire of my own beside Your Will.”

Sufis consider that when we ask God for any specific awards – be they material or spiritual – these desires are an expression of our ego. These desires are indicative that our nafs has a grip over our heart. When one enters the state of true surrender, the mind is emptied of all preferences. In a state of glorious submission to the Divine, the seeker trusts that the Divine knows what his soul yearns for. There is no requirement to express any want, since the Glorious Divine is in know of everything there is.

Rabia al-Adawiyya, the great 8th-century female saint of Basra, moved people to wonderment and joy in the pursuit of God’s love. Her devotion was so pure, so total that she shifted the focus from fear of hell and desire for heaven to pure, unadulterated Love (Ishq).

Rabia was often seen walking through the streets of Basra carrying a bucket of water in one hand and a burning torch in the other. When asked why, she replied: “I want to pour water into Hell and set fire to Heaven, so that both veils disappear. People must love God for Himself, not out of fear of punishment or hope for reward.”

Her famous nightly prayer captures this ultimate surrender of self-interest:

“O My Lord, if I worship You from fear of Hell, burn me in Hell.

If I worship You from hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise.

But if I worship You for Your own sake, then do not withhold from me Your Eternal Beauty.”

The grip of nafs, the ego, is so tight upon a man’s heart and soul that he is seldom able to escape it. Even in devotion and submission, nafs sometimes rises in a man’s heart. Mevlana Rumi wrote that when the seeker finds himself trapped in this bewildering maze of nafs, he must think of himself as the polo ball. For the record, polo is among the oldest team sports of the world. The earliest forms of the game were played by nomadic tribes in Central Asia around 6^th century BC.

Mevlana Rumi used the metaphor of a polo ball for the seeker who has surrendered his will to the Almighty. The mystic used the image of the polo game to illustrate that the ball does not choose its path. The player strikes it, and the ball moves effortlessly in the direction chosen for it. So it is for the humble seeker who has completely surrendered his will to God. Mevlana Rumi wrote:

“Be helpless, dumbfounded,

and blind to your own desires,

so that you may be driven by the Will of the Beloved.

The polo ball does not say ‘No’ to the mallet;

it runs wherever it is struck,

completely at peace with the game.”

The thought of individual power is a mirage that entraps man. Those who are Sufi at heart do not consider surrender to be an abdication of individual will or power. Eternal joy and peace lie in loving and absolute surrender to the Divine Beloved.

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