“Until you become an unbeliever in yourself, you cannot become a believer in God,” said Hazrat Abu Sa’id Abul-Khayr (967–1049), a renowned Persian Sufi mystic. In the hustle and bustle of daily life, our existence often gets limited to our needs, our desires. Our singular focus on the needs of the self becomes the veil which hides God from us.

We must become aware of the sublime light of the Divine that permeates all existence. We have become so accustomed to the material world that many among us tend to understand it as the only reality. Caught in these illusions, we think that we alone are the providers of our happiness, our needs, our existence.

In the Sufi tradition, the transition from “unbelief in oneself” to “belief in God” is facilitated by Dhikr (constant remembrance of God). The goal of these practices is to move from the tongue to the heart, and finally to the “secret” (Sirr)—the innermost core of being where the ego finally surrenders.

We can free ourselves from the stranglehold of the ego or the ‘I’ only when we contemplate upon who holds the ultimate authority. Whose glory makes our life possible? It is God, and God alone. Hazrat Ibn Arabi (1165–1240), revered as Al-Shaykh Al-Akbar, the greatest master, exclaimed in his love for the Divine Beloved, “None loves God but God, and there is no lover and no beloved but God. Lovers grasp this when they reach the point of seeing God in everything that exists.”

When the Sufi mystics ask us to become an unbeliever in our self, they are essentially inspiring us to explore the joys and bliss of surrender in the Almighty. Surrender to the Almighty is born of great strength. Hazrat Shams Tabrizi (1185–1248), the wandering Persian mystic and dervish who later became the spiritual master of Mevlana Rumi, emphasized that surrender is about total and absolute trust in the Divine Beloved rather than our own maps and radars for life. He said, “Submission does not mean being weak or passive. It leads to neither fatalism nor capitulation. Just the opposite. True power resides in submission—a power that comes from within.”

In these blessed days of Ramadan, we acknowledge with faith, love and devotion that we are not driven by merely our physical impulses. As we empty the stomach of food, similarly we aim to empty the heart of its constant engagement with the material world. There is a shift in our focus, in our attention.

From a ceaseless preoccupation of the mind that asks, ‘What do I want?’, our mind shifts to the deeper contemplation that must engage our being – ‘What does the Creator ask of me?’ When we dwell our mind upon the Creator, we realize that it is God who wields the ultimate authority, the ultimate power that governs the universe. In the blessed fasting of Ramadan, we witness the physical echo of the soul’s spiritual hunger. When we become aware of our own “nothingness”, we can begin to experience the “Everything” of God.

There is an old Sufi story of King Ibrahim ibn-Adham, who had renounced his throne and became a wandering Sufi. One day he was sitting by the seashore, using a needle to stitch his patched cloak. At that time, a nobleman from his erstwhile kingdom walked by and saw him. The nobleman thought to himself, “That is King Ibrahim ibn-Adham! He used to be the master of such a large kingdom. What is he doing here, sitting and mending an old cloak?”

Hazrat Ibrahim ibn-Adham read the nobleman’s thoughts and was amused by his thinking. He threw his needle into the sea and then shouted, “Come forth, Needle!” At his words, thousands of fish rose up from the water, each bearing a golden needle in its mouth. “Behold the real kingdom of God! Behold the Glory of our Beloved Creator,” Hazrat Ibrahim said, smiling. “It is all the love of God.” The nobleman was humbled. He realized that a man who seeks God is indeed blessed in his quest.

Sheikh Abdul Qadir Gilani (1077-1166), the highly revered Sufi mystic after whom the Qadiriyya, one of the oldest Sufi orders was named, urged his followers, “Keep watch over your heart for an hour, for that is better than the worship of the two worlds.” These are the ways of the Sufi saints to lead us to the quest for the Divine Beloved. When one attempts to keep watch over one’s heart for an hour, one finds that it is difficult to watch the heart even for a short span of five minutes. Thoughts jump hither and thither, and the mind is drawn to a thousand things. But when the seeker stays steadfast, then he begins to develop focus and concentration in the Divine. From the matter of a few minutes, his watchfulness over the heart increases. Steadily, he is drawn to the point when he can stay immersed in God realization, and he can stay connected to God even though he may be surrounded by the cacophony of the material world.

It is said that a man named Sufyan once asked Rabia, the famous saint of Basra, “Is there anything you desire?”

“Despite all your learning, you understand nothing,” Rabia told him. “I am God’s slave, and what does a slave have to do with desire? What God desires, I desire. I have everything I desire.”

“I understand your words, Rabia,” said Sufyan. “Now help me to understand myself.”

“You would be a good man if you didn’t love the world so much,” said Rabia.

Then Sufyan prayed, “O God, be content with me!”

“How can you ask God to be content with you,” Rabia exclaimed, “when you are not content with God?”

Let us be content in the will of God. Let us find peace with all that God has blessed us with. Gratitude towards our creator fills our life with joy and abundance. Seeing God in everything that exists is the key to spiritual abundance and growth.

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