Coming back from Senegal, my connecting flight in New York was delayed 3 times then finally cancelled due to weather. The next available flight with seats left was at 9pm the next day, and it was only 1 am in the morning.
They say the Lord works in mysterious ways. Well this change in plan may as well have been orchestrated by the Almighty. Because what followed turned out to be a beautiful experience full of fun coincidences and synchronicities.
First, my cousin who I called as a shot in the dark happened to be in New York, even though he usually is in LA. He found me a spot at a friend’s to spend the night, which was great because all the reasonable hotels around were booked.
I had made a vow to myself and to God/Allah that at the first “Fajr” (Muslim prayer that occurs at dawn)in which I’d find myself in a situation where I was able to pray, (ie: awake and not in a moving vehicle), I would from then on commit to praying all the 5 Salats (moving prayers which are obligatory in Islam.) I had assumed this would happen in Senegal, since I was there for two weeks. But Fajr (which is currently around 4:50 am) found me asleep most of my time there and on two occasions I was inside a moving vehicle. So it was only on this early morning in an apartment that happened to be in Brooklyn, New York that I found myself fulfilling the beginning of this vow. How fitting that this was to happen in my place of birth, Brooklyn, New York. I love the concept of “born again” in its most simple meaning, even though it is not quite a thing in Islam. But after all, my spirituality is my own, although it does connect me to all those who practice it in the same way, including my ancestors. In fact, I believe God is greater than any one religion, and I just happen to choose to follow the spiritual tradition of my ancestors, because I love them for our biological connection and for passing down their genes, hopes and dreams to me. So in the sense that I am choosing to focus back on the religion that i was born into, I consider my self essentially a born again into the heart of Islam. Being no stranger to the idea of rebirths, and with a snake tatoo on my arm which partly represents the concept, I welcomed a new found vision of Islam which goes deep into the significance of praying as a meditative practice and a dedication of time and space to the sacred in which worldly matters meet their death and the reality of our spirit arises within us to be enlightened.
On my way to meet up with my cousin at Prospect Park, I had the pleasure to meet a new friend who had a stand in front of the Brooklyn Library, with all kinds of plant medicines. One in particular was in the form of eye drops. There is a video on his page of this @maatinfiniteintelligence369 . But in a nutshell, He generously offered me some drops after it came up through our conversing that I had cataracts. He explained that the drops would be helpful for my eyes and simultaneously have a cleansing effect on me. I felt the trust in me, so I received it. Just as he warned me moments earlier, it burned a little for a couple long minutes. But it was all worth it because, after the drops, I felt a lightness that is hard to describe and the next day I feel like my eye sight actually improved a good bit. A genuine part of my spirituality involves plant medicine, although not cannabis so much anymore, because my goal is grounding. The idea is not to levitate but to have my feet on the ground well rooted and extend my head in the heavens. Most entheogens eventually lead me to that, especially when used for that purpose with the right intentions.
Later on, I met up with my cousin and walked to Prospect Park for a picnic style birthday party where I met some pretty cool people, and inspired by my cousin’s spontaneous idea to climb trees in the park, i reconnected with my favorite childhood activity and climbed a small one nearby. Dhuhr, the late afternoon prayer came up, and in line with my vow to pray wherever i am when reasonably possible, I prayed my salat in the park. The Muslim way of praying being pretty conspicuous, was intimidating to perform somewhat in public, although I had found a lowkey spot. But it felt nice to pray on my prayer rug out in nature.
Soon I was off to JFK to take my flight to Dulles. Even the taxi ride there was eventful. I met a fellow musician “Skully Brown » whose music you can find on YouTube, and we exchanged our original songs with each other during the entire ride. His stuff was pretty good and mostly Reggea/Ragga. My man was there for the queens in many of his songs and I am definitely here for it! This exchange in creative works also fanned the fire in me to get some substantial headway on my album during the last leg of this summer.
Once I arrived at the airport it was time for Maghrib, which is the prayer that is performed during sunset. This time, being in the airport, I could not find a spot where I felt comfortable praying. After debating with myself about whether I really tried hard enough to fulfill my vow or whether I could just brave it and pray in a crowed airport, I decided that I felt too vulnerable to have a meditative kind of prayer. So I gave up and sat down near a man who recognizing my Senegalese descent, greeted me warmly in Wolof and eventually pointed me towards where he thought there was a mosque, supposedly inside the airport. On my way there, I sighted an older man laying down his rug to begin to pray. I asked him where the mosque was situated and he explained that the mosque happened to actually be outside the airport, which meant that I would have to come back through TSA security. I was definitely not about to go through security again, so I asked if I could join him in prayer. Muslim prayer is often done in group when possible, with one person usually leading the prayer. So he agreed to lead the prayer, and I laid out my rug right next to his, but slightly behind, as is customary to do in situations when two people are praying together but the other is leading. We proceeded to perform our salat together, I enjoyed the vibe, and the opportunity to share the devotional experience of worship with a total stranger. After our prayer, I briefly connected with him about my vow and how synchronistic it was that I found him just as he was setting up to pray. He responded « Whenever you hold an earnest intention, Allah will meet you there and provide what is needed. » This is absolutely aligned with my personal experience. I have always been met with good situations, and people as friends and helpers whenever i was earnestly trying to fulfill a goal in which I involved the Divine. This is going to be a way of life for me now, as far as my intentions go. Before the man left, I asked for his name. His name was Arif. Sensing that there was a deeper meaning for me in his name, I decided to look it up on google and discovered the following:
The name Arif, of Arabic origin, generally means "knowledgeable," "wise," or "one who knows.". It signifies a deep understanding and can be associated with spiritual wisdom in Islamic contexts. It encompasses not just intellectual knowledge but also spiritual insight and discernment. In Islamic tradition, the term "Arif" can also refer to someone who has attained a high level of spiritual understanding and enlightenment.
It felt like a confirmation that I am on the right path. To follow a path is to become the path.
Yet the paradox is “The truth is a pathless land”, as Juddi Krishnamurti is known to have said. Another way to say this, in my opinion, is that all genuine paths lead to the Source which we can call God, Spirit, or Allah. Either way we are naming the Almighty One of whom we all emanate from and are animated by her Will.
I have always been a seeker. Never content with the surface unexplored and personally unexperimented understandings of this life.
Even as I kid I always asked the big question of “Whyyy?”, and this inclination to dig deep led me to explore the wisdoms and follow the spiritual practices from many religions including Buddhism, Taoism, and Hinduism. In addition to Islam & Christianity which are both practiced within my close and extended family, these religions helped shape my understanding of the world. It soon became clear to me that once these religions began to go deep below their dogmatic surface and into the realm of mysticism, they would always meet at a common source. Thus Christianity’s Gnosticism, Islam’s Sufism and Judaism’s Kaballah all join each other in recognition of the God that dwells within us, both transcending and encompassing the mundane, as the source of all. This source is like an ocean ever-flowing as a river from which all the saints and mystics find their peace and bliss through meditation, contemplation and devotion. From this river I find my truth.
Still, today I remain a seeker; a student whose greatest teacher is life itself. And like any good student, I must keep my cup empty.
As the Zen story goes: A student comes to a Zen master to learn. As the master pours tea, the cup overflows. The student says, “It’s full!”
The master replies,
“Exactly. You are like this cup—so full of your own opinions and assumptions. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?”
This illustrates the idea that in order to receive wisdom, transformation, or new understanding, one must let go of preconceived notions and become open, humble, and receptive.
So on my lifelong journey to seek further enlightenment, greater wisdom, deeper peace and higher love, I practice “The Art of Not Knowing.” For knowledge truly belongs to none, except for Allah. Therefore I know that I know nothing; only the God within truly knows. 🙏🏿
