It’s not just a pen.

pen

 

Renowned Muslim thinker and scholar Hamza Yusuf recounts a story when he was in the Mauritanian desert under tutelage from great masters who have carried on proper Islamic tradition and scholarship down to students for hundreds of years. He was cleaning under his nails with a pen when something struck him upside the head. His teacher threw something at him and told him, “Hamza, God has sworn an oath by the pen”. He immediately understood his mistake at disrespecting the otherwise inanimate object. (1)
But look at who he is now.
When you have such reverence for things, you can then pass on value to your family, students, friends and more.
Where is the reverence and respect for those sacred things?

(1) Quran Chapter 68 is titled ‘The Pen’ and begins it’s first verse with God swearing an oath by the pen. Nun. By the pen and what they inscribe,”

Slay them with pens, educate them with swords.

pen and sword

Some people need to be shredded with words,

Others need to be taught with a sword.

What is society willing to afford?

Has man lost his way,

Severed the umbilical cord?

The attachment to all that is good and pure,

And can nothing more say?

You’ll find it where it hurts most to look

ReviewCaffeine coursed veins

Lead to empty hall brains

With no lights on

But echoes of chains

The pains, the strains

The soul drained.

No we’re not at all insane

Just wanting higher plains

Trying to leave our mark, our stain

Not wanting to be contained

Trying to unshackle

The rein

Until none of me remains

And my ego does not complain

My spirit can soar, unrestrained

My attention to The Real

Not the profane, not the mundane

And I no longer feign

-ME

On writing.

50

Franz Kafka said to his adoring Fiance

You once said that you would like to sit beside me while I write. Listen, in that case I could not write at all. For writing means revealing oneself to excess; that utmost of self-revelation and surrender, in which a human being, when involved with others, would feel he was losing himself, and from which, therefore, he will always shrink as long as he is in his right mind. That is why one can never be alone enough when one writes, why there can never be enough silence around one when one writes, why even night is not night enough.

Yes, this true! I agree wholeheartedly with him. Any writer that needs an audience to complete his work is a show pony, not a stallion of the desert of words.

The heart of matters

heart and god

I don’t get it. Over and over, all religions at their innermost core preach love and purity of heart. Why then are humans hell bent on ignoring it? Why then isn’t the heart the single most important focal point for all human beings? What is this madness that has captivated our attention and diverted us from our hearts and ultimately ourselves? Did you know that before the central nervous system develops in the foetus, the heart is the first organ to form? The brain is not even existent! The CNS is no where to be found yet we still have the audacity to question the heart sciences. No, not the cold, hard spiritless sciences of laboratories but the ones passed on from generations back which are taught by sages and masters to students.