the only way to cleanse oneself
is repetition in fire

The idea and knowledge of fitra, escapes people,
because they don’t dwell in the inner murky long enough,
they don’t bathe in the beauty of repetition enough.
The sincere Muslim, does not falter,
they pray a million prayers,
seventeen times a day at the least,
a lifetime of that devotion,
to find that one prayer,
one time,
one connection.
They repeat without knowing why sometimes,
repetition is the mother of skill,
until God manifests it in their being.
If they are blessed enough to taste it,
they are madly stricken with a fever,
a desire…… to oneness.

Everything points to oneness.

‘Say, he is Allah, The One,
The eternal refuge,
He does not beget
Nor is he begotten
There is nothing utterly like Him’ *

Those in love are afflicted with devotion.
They offer the supererogatory prayers.

They devote of themselves beyond normality of laymen,
prayer, poetry, movement, devotions.

The fighter seeks his moment,
the one punch, the one kick,
the one defining move from millions of moves,
poetic movement, line after line,
rhyme after rhyme,
repetition towards oneness.

It doesn’t have to be in the limelight,

Away, hidden in the mouldy confines,
of a war torn gym,
alone and pores screaming,
for relief,
the gateway for water,
passing through their body,
to become a mist floating,
a mist dancing,
‘atoms’, in Rumi’s words, ‘dancing’.

And there they are,
mist, poetry, fever, movement,
breath and being,
serenity and chaos-organised,
there they pray, there they are stricken,
lovers calling from windows to each other.

God calling them, and they replying with their poetry.

You wouldn’t know they were artists,
unless you’re in tune with the art of repetition.
When you do something so much,
the very movements you perform become engagements in breath.
A punch does not need a conscious breathing in and out.

The mere movement of your arm,
engages your torso,
to subconsciously contract and expand the relevant musculature,
to automate breath,
it ceases to become a conscious activity,
it just happens,
you never get tired of repetition,
nay, you become more efficient.

Boxers like Muhammad Ali knew this,
fighters like Bruce Lee knew this,
others, very apt in their art just do it,
sadly out of tune with their fitra, they don’t know this.

Fitra is the primordial nature of man.
It is the undeniable reset code.
It remains until you die and will be brought forward to witness against you.
You, in your heart of hearts,
aware of it,
but soil it, bury it, cover it.

That is why the meaning of ‘kufr’, is not simply just disbelief,
it is a covering, linguistically, this is the root meaning,
a handful of dirt over a seed, a burying.

You know deep within you, the truth,
you just haven’t cleaned enough, purified enough, repeated enough,
to uncover it,
it can’t sprout, because the soil too is dirty.

Muhammad Ali and Bruce were in tune with the spiritual element about them,
They were philosophical genius,
poetic physicality,
submissive intellectualism.
The wird (litany) of the sincere, is repetition,
always and perpetually repeating what the mundane of heart can’t.

If you want to master yourself,
repeat the cleanse,
repeat the movement,
repeat the breathing,
repeat the sweat,
repeat the litanies,
repeat the prose,
repeat the prayer,
repeat the love,
over and over,
until He answers your repetition,
with unveiling of the reality of your disposition.

*Quran Chapter 112 (The chapter of sincerity)

2 thoughts on “-fitra”

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