I Am Nobody

Nasreddin Hodja is what could be called a sublime idiot. He is a liar, irreverent, a disturber of peace. But he is also ingenious, free, full of wit, a timeless figure whose stories have spread and been adapted the world over. In the Sufi tradition, they were used for study purposes. “There is the joke, the moral — and the little extra which brings the consciousness of the potential mystic a little further on the way to realisation.” writes Idries Shah. These stories are like ‘eternity with a smile’…

~

One day, the dervish Nasreddin entered a formal reception area 
and seated himself at the foremost elegant chair. 

The Chief of the Guard approached and said: 

“Sir, those places are reserved for guests of honor.”

“Oh, I am more than a mere guest,” replied Nasreddin confidently.

“Oh, so are you a diplomat?”

“Far more than that!”

“Really? So you are a minister, perhaps?”

“No, bigger than that too.”

“Oho! So you must be the King himself, sir,” said the Chief sarcastically.

“Higher than that!”

“What?! Are you higher than the King?! 
Nobody is higher than the King in this village!”

“Now you have it. I am nobody!” said Nasreddin.

~

Nasreddin’s pointers:

Nasreddin is a genius. In just a few attitudes, and a few chosen words, he has just conveyed that nothing, and nobody is greater than god.

There is a presence inside each and every human being, a consciousness, pure, indivisible, that is one without a second, that is all encompassing and infinite, therefore doesn’t bear, or conceive, or even renders possible the existence of another reality by its side. 

Therefore by being nobody, Nasreddin can be all and claim the most prominent seat in the world. That’s why one should show regard for those of humble means. This is the second lesson from Nasreddin, the mollah. Nobody is left aside, nobody is unworthy of the highest, most sublime throne of life, pure presence. For this is each and every being’s birthright and resplendent reality, despite being an unnoticed one for most.

The dignitaries, nobles and ministers of the assembly who believed in appearances and ranks, could not be humbled by a nobody, and catch thereby the high lesson that was delivered in that moment, which is: even a person of no consequence can be Hodja. Hodja is one with the ultimate skill and power to be, who by his or her very knowing of his or her highest identity, can be the vehicle and teacher of a truth that is the greatest and purest one on earth.

This elevation is attainable by everyone through the abandonment of the ego. This is Nasreddin’s ultimate teaching. The ego here is the illusion of being a ‘somebody’. When we abandon our very small identity, our believed being, our own limitations, we can access the highest rank of all. By his genius, in just a few attitudes, and a few chosen words, the mollah has just conveyed the ultimate truth.

This, my friend, is the extent of Nasreddin’s power, the deed of the simple, idiot, absurd, naive, fool, comic, irreverent, sometime witty, sometime wise, Nasir ud-din Mahmood al-Khoyi, known simply as the Hodja, or the mollah.

 

~

Some people say that, whilst uttering what seemed madness, he was, in reality, 
divinely inspired, and that it was not madness but wisdom that he uttered.”
~ The Turkish Jester or The Pleasantries of Cogia Nasr Eddin Effendi

~

 

The Nasreddin story is taken from Sufism/Nasrudin, Wikibooks.

‘Nasreddin’s pointers’ is by Alain Joly

The photo is by Ben_Kerckx / Pixabay

Bibliography:
– ‘The Sufis’ – by Idries Shah – (ISF Publishing)
– ‘The Exploits of the Incomparable Mulla Nasrudin’ – by Idries Shah – (ISF Publishing)
– ‘Nasreddin Hodja: 100 tales in verse’ – by Raj Arumugam – (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform)

Website:
Nasreddin Hodja (Wikipedia)

 

Dear God

A prayer comes from the heart, and points to something that is beyond words and meaning. Its only function is to throw you back to yourself, to silence. It must be devoid of demands, which can only be objective and an expression of separation. In prayer, the result precedes the wish. Tiger Singleton gives us here two different versions of a prayer:

~

The confused prayer

Dear God, please help me put my illusions back together. All this uncertainty of tomorrow really makes it difficult to hide, and pretend to know what I’m doing.

Dear God, help me hold on, and please make other people change so I don’t have to see the truth I’m afraid of. If you would just give me what I want, it would be so much easier to love and trust you.

Dear God, how can I still protect the image of myself and worship you in everything? They say you are everywhere all the time, but that makes it really difficult to find myself.

Dear God, everything I trust in that’s not you, keeps failing. Why? Wouldn’t life be easier if everything just did what I wanted? By the way, I have plans this weekend so it’s better for all (really for myself) if it doesn’t rain.

Dear God, mosquitoes are stupid, please kill them all. It would be much better for everyone (really myself). Except maybe for nature, clearly though nature is confused about how to do things.

Dear God!! Hello?! Are you listening?! I want to be God. It’s not going so well. Please help.

~

The Sincere Prayer

Dear God, thank you. May you continue to help me see what actually is, rather than looking for what I want.

Dear God, thank you. Your ways are mysterious, yet it’s because of your ways, that this breath flows. I may not always understand, but I always end up seeing a gratitude.

Dear God, thank you. Somehow the rain falls perfectly on time, Im so grateful it’s not up to me. I have a hard enough time managing my own calendar.

Dear God, thank you. You keep showing me it’s okay to let go, no matter how stubborn I might be. Your patience is infinite, and in this I feel your Love.

Dear God, thank you. I feel in some way you are always smiling, not laughing at me, but comforting my impossible fears. As if the sun only pretends not to shine.

Dear God, thank you. I’m so humbled by you. I see it’s a constant invitation for me to relax and let you do what you do. Allowing me an opportunity to return to love.

Dear God, thank you; not for this or for that, but for everything. I see your fingerprints everywhere.”

 

~~~

Text by Tigmonk

Mandala by Elsebet Barner

~~~

 

Tiger Singleton (Tigmonk), founder of InLight Connect, is an inspirational public speaker, satsang facilitator, and author who shares wisdom and insight from the heart. With an open heart, Tiger holds space for a profound exploration into the art of being (you). 

Bibliography:
– ‘An Explosion of Love: The Color of All Things Beautiful’ – by Tigmonk – (The Blooming Heart Center)
– ‘Intimacy, with the Silent Nothing that is Everything’ – by Tigmonk – (The Blooming Heart Center)

Websites:
Inlight Connect (the art of being)
Tigmonk (All… is Incredibly Well)
Already Done (The Poetic Life of Being)

Suggestion:
Fragrance (on the role and nature of prayer)

 

The Fruitless Search

I have been an [explorer] and still am.
But I stopped asking the books and the stars.
I started listening to the teachings of my own soul
.”
~ Rumi

 

It is not because I have read a few books, bathed in the presence of some beautiful beings, and participated to many retreats that I know where I am, what I am at, and can now follow the upward course of a promised, enlightened destination. I’m not like an arrow steadily cutting through the air. It’s not like that I’m afraid. I confess: I’m a lost bird. One that’s flapping its wings on the winds of uncertainty, not knowing how, where and what to proceed. I spend all my time in the forest, flying around like a mad bird, thinking that I have one thousand things to do to secure a more decent life for myself. And this is an endless, confusing activity. …

A tale that speaks of a lost being and its fruitless search (READ MORE…)

 

 

The Last Truth

9DF6C27B-1BF6-4BED-949F-40F4B6360333 man had left his village in search of enlightenment. After many long years, from hardship to hardship, he had become a vagabond, a pariah in our towns. One evening, he landed in a dense forest. He made a fire and thought of everything he had seen, lived and understood: pieces of light, of truth… but nothing like an awakening. He was a little discouraged when he heard a bird singing at the top of a tree: “I have the last truth, I have the last truth. It is for whoever will come and get it…”.

The man then began to climb to the top of this tree. Climbing was difficult and dangerous. As he climbed towards this last truth, he had to fight against vertigo. He was guided by the song of the bird without ever seeing it. He finally reached the summit and, bathing in a sumptuous golden light, he saw the sun set, the stars appear but no bird. However, the voice, coming out of nowhere and everywhere at the same time, said to him: “You came to receive a last truth, so receive it and leave to offer it to everyone who will believe you.”

At that moment all his questions were changed into answers and his answers into questions. The light became shadow and from the shadow was born light. All these pieces of scattered truths came together to form a whole, new, multiple truth. So his last truth became his first. His heart began to smile and his smile began to say the words of his heart. Then, without descending from the tree, awake and light, he was able to continue his way by riding some winds of wild wisdom.

Since then, this tree of passage, of metamorphosis, which was a wild tea tree, is venerated. Some of us offer or receive some of its leaves, attentive to everything that, in the golden glow of a cup, they could tell or sing to us, sensitive to any call.

 

7A09B8AE-E03F-4F85-A871-D9A2F81617C3

 

~~~

Text found in my computer attic, source unknown
(Translated from French by Alain Joly)

Photo by Carol Brandt

~~~

 

Website:
Carol Brandt Photography

Suggestion:
Other articles from the category ‘Shreds of Infinity

 

The Truth Seeker

9DF6C27B-1BF6-4BED-949F-40F4B6360333long time ago, in India, lived a man named Admita. All his life had been spent in a harsh and hostile desert, surrounded by sand and dry, swirling winds. He led a life of wandering without help or hope on this desolate land. He had well heard of stories that described places of lush greenery and great beauty, where valleys, forests, meadows, rushing streams and great rivers were home for countless animals, where mountains stood above deep blue seas, where the sun was warm and friendly and the air ever filled with a cool and gentle breeze. He did not believe that such places really existed, but in front of so much loneliness, sorrow, and adversity, he could not help thinking about it and hoping to discover this wonderful land.

One day, one hot, scorching, blazing day, when winds were competing to torment the atmosphere, he thought that truly his last hour had come, for there was no hope of ending the killer storm. Suddenly, in the midst of swirling sand grains, he realised that he was standing right on the edge of a vast, profound precipice. He saw that there was a green carpet on the floor down below; he sniffed the air that was sweet and he could hear thousands of sounds, whispers, and cries of great beauty. “Surely,” he thought, “it must be that marvelous land that the stories mention.”

A short fairy story, a spiritual parable (READ MORE…)

 

Hodja tells the truth

Nasreddin Hodja is what could be called a sublime idiot. He is a liar, irreverent, a disturber of peace. But he is also ingenious, free, full of wit, a timeless figure whose stories have spread and been adapted the world over. In the Sufi tradition, they were used for study purposes. “There is the joke, the moral — and the little extra which brings the consciousness of the potential mystic a little further on the way to realisation.” writes Idries Shah. These stories are like ‘eternity with a smile’…

 

6ECBDFB5-BD03-4378-BB2F-60FC5DC551C4The Sultan was unhappy because his subjects were untruthful.

He had a gallows erected in front of the city gates and a herald announced:

– “Whoever would enter the city must first answer the truth to a question which will be put to him by the captain of the guard.”

Nasruddin Hodja who was outside the gates stepped forward.

– “Why have you come?” asked the captain, “tell the truth or you will be hanged.”
– “I have come to be hanged.” said Hodja.
– “I don’t believe you.” said the captain.
– “Then you have to hang me for telling a lie.” said Hodja.
– “But if we hang you it will mean you have told the truth.” said the captain.
– “Yes.” said Hodja.

The captain let him go.

 

~~~

Photo from Pixabay (Sculpture of Nasreddin Hodja)

~~~

 

Bibliography:
– ‘The Sufis’, by Idries Shah – (ISF Publishing)
– ‘Nasreddin Hodja: 100 tales in verse’, by Raj Arumugam – (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform)

Website:
Nasreddin Hodja (Wikipedia)