I looked up patience. The Latin/English meaning is proportioned as a small donkey beside a great camel caravan of Arabic usage. Sabr means patience and much more.  The Oxford Dictionary, a somewhat thoughtful book, defines it as: “… the capacity to accept or tolerate suffering without becoming annoyed or anxious.” … from patiens, patientis (latin),  patient (patience) and “able to endure.”

Ya-Sabūr is the last Divine Name of the 99 Beautiful Names of Allah. There is a sense of accumulated development; one who continually manifests sabr is  called Sābirūn. This manifests “perfect equilibrium and moderation in all that he (she) does.”1

I’ve been reading about Fatima az-Zahra, daughter of Prophet Muhammad. Reading and reading. Writing about her life. Friends send me articles. Here’s a sentence from the Mafatih of prayers to Fatima. (The “He” is Allah.) When He tested you, He found you to be patient under affliction…2

Sabr means giving up complaining.  Something I work on constantly. When I am  at ease with someone, it seems to open a door that holds a closet of complaint and the furniture of annoyance spills out before I can press it shut. Here is the rectangular glass dish that seems to be coated with baked-on dark crust

that needs heavy scrubbing every time it lands in the sink. I complain. The stopped traffic. Mmm. Sabr means go easy. Make a joke about it. Be in the present. Gratitude seems to feed all the camels in the caravan of patience.

Cultivated sabr prepares you to withstand hardship. There is also a sub-meaning in the root (SaBaRa)  to bind, tie, or fetter — a no escape clause. Canned, preserved, food is called musabbarāt.

The great Sufi, Junaid, says, “Patience is swallowing a bitter draught with out displaying a frown or scowl.”3

And what of sabr as a jewel of mysticism? One of my favorite books, Physicians of the Heart notes: “As-Sabūr embodies development of complete inner capacity. It is a great container that enables a spiritual student to endure the long journey of the path…”  and  “….According to the story in the Qur‘an of Khidr and Moses, sabr is the one essential element for following the path of mystical union.”4  Why? Moses is unable to trust Al-Khidr, the one annihilated in truth; the one unveiling higher understanding while seeming to do cruel and harmful acts. Al-Khidr tells him,” You will not be able to have patience with me.”  Moses insists he will be patient. The master proves him wrong. The story hints and plays with the power of sabr. It takes up sixteen verses of the Qur‘an. 5

It occurs to me that deep patience is an antidote against anger and reactivity. The patient person contains his (her) reactions at the onset.  That is, being so very onto yourself, you could shoot an arrow across the spaciousness of your mind… and it would not reach the other side. I was amazed to see, after I’d written this that there is an expression for being “at the end of one’s patience” in Arabic that translates: “There is no arrow left for the bow of my patience!”

I am thinking as we age this is an essential quality — to be patient with all we can no longer do so well. Aging, limitation. My mother-in-law, Ilse, was quite graceful at turning her book-keeping over to my husband. Giving up driving was harder. She, a precise, well-organized woman could no longer do those things.

When the Prophet whispered to Fatima he would die soon, the advice he gave her was to keep sabr and taqwā, superficially translated as patient and fearful of God, 6 but the mystical meaning is “to remain steadfast on the path to Allah like holding a burning coal in one’s hands…”7

as-Sabur, beautiful calligraphy from Jordan

The inner meaning of taqwā is awareness of Unification, no separation. All is infused with God-consciousness. That was her father’s message to her. The timing of this message is good, as I have not been able to distill the story of Muhammad’s whispered message. Now maybe, I will.

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As the day went by I felt more sharply the need to address the Mother’s day bubble – with a pin.

Mothers Day can be a painful day. Many have lost a mother this year, making this the first Mothers Day without her. Some mothers were elderly. Then there’s the loss of the wife and mother of not-yet-grown children.  Such a fragile, delicate time!

Today we spent the day at the home of a close friend who adored her mother, and would never be with her again because she recently died. My mother passed on in 1967, but I lost a son sixteen months ago. I was not with him today, and he will never call me on the phone to wish me happy Mother’s Day. I’ll say it. There are thousands and thousands of us who must endure Mothers Day.

Mothers Day began in recognition of a “memorial” [according to Wikipedia,] but now we are in the business of holidays. “The modern holiday of Mother’s Day was first celebrated in 1908, when Anna Jarvis held a memorial for her mother in Grafton, West Virginia. She then began a campaign to make “Mother’s Day” a recognized holiday in the United States. Although she was successful in 1914, she was already disappointed with its commercialization by the 1920s.”

What would she think now? A card, flowers –– profitable on a large scale. What about restaurant lunches? dinners? hey, clothes and jewelry! Now I see why the newspapers, magazines and TV mention Mothers Day for weeks leading up to this Sunday. You cannot escape the little smiling reminders – everywhere.  No one treats it like a memorial, respectfully admitting that – for many people – this is linked to death and grief, a family tradition that has stopped, is no longer. We need to honor their loss.

Shabda said he thinks it is good to have mothers recognized and appreciated, that it is grateful family time. I agree. He reminded me that Tibetans suggest we act as if every being in some life time is or will be our mother; that if we imagine every being as our mother, we will learn to care for each other. Yes, all true.

There is Mother Earth. Then today I brought to mind my two grandmothers, my own mother and my beautiful god-daughters. (Several were in touch with me today.) And my sweet son Ammon, who did call me. This softened my sense of injustice.

But I keep thinking, if this is painful for me, what about the others who are in the early stages of grief, or who have conflicting feelings about their mother, what about those who have lost a father, having to go through this in June –– Fathers Day. What is it about the lack of sensitivity in our culture around celebration, loss and bereavement? I am not writing this for sympathy, but because I just want to hear it said.  <>

This afternoon I was standing in the stile (a series of steps or rungs over a wall or fence  as a barrier to sheep or cattle) at the entrance to the thousand open acres behind the residency, and up by the peak was an eagle, then another one. I caught a far-away shot of one circling near the half-moon. I wish I had taken Shabda’s high magnifier camera. This morning: a pheasant and a redheaded woodpecker.  At dawn the white peaks  of the high western mountains turned pink and all shades of Waldorphian pastel…

Map showing CloudPeak Wilderness area and the orange mark is us…

There are four artists here and two writers. Seth and I disappear into the writing studios after breakfast and he writes prose while I rewrite poems and promise myself to come up with a new subject every day. The studio has a propane fireplace, a comfy chair, desk and writing chair as well. Windows look at the eagle cliff and curtains cut the snow glare.  From first arrival a few days ago, each of us is stunned to be in this beautiful, creative environment, cannot believe our good fortune to be given this gift, and really given. The mother of this residency lets us be here free of charge.  Our job is to create wows of visual art or wonderful word play.

The temperatures shift wildly from sort-of-warm in the afternoon sun to really really

the driveway…

chilly. The altitude is 4,000 feet. We get the local paper on the table every morning and .75 cents is the price printed on the first page. Last night the stars looked as if they had been washed, and the sky darkened to dramatize the arrangement.

bridge over thawing creek

view from the mailbox, eagle cliffs in the background

This post will be a bit off the cuff… not my usual care. I am in an internet cafe on ethernet in the small town on the southern end of Santa Cruz Island, downhill from the giant tortoises, 45 kilometers from the harbor that has boats to the other islands. It is Sunday and the town is very quiet. Hot. Shabda, Wendy, David and I are staying at Patricio’s house a few blocks north east. My room has a fan. The main room has two. Today Wendy locked her keys in the room and Patricio does not have an extra pair, so I bound a strainer to the other end of a broom and edged open the screen (behind the heavy grill, bolted to the window). We were all cheering as the keys fell into the “cup” and were eased out the window.

Wendy and a giant tortoise

Yesterday Wendy and I met two penguins and had a delicious 10 minutes as the only people on a beautiful beach in the middle of the ocean. Captain Marlon took us on a 2 hour journey to an island I cannot spell. While the other 18 people (including Shabda and David) snorkeled with a shark, Wendy and I had a journey in the Zodiac with Roland. Sadly the large groups of small penguins native to these islands have all but disappeared! Patricio says the last El Nino almost pushed them to extinction.

just before the penguins

We have led the Dances of Universal Peace two evenings here, and tonight Shabda will give a talk, and the last night of Dances. He was on TV talking about the Sufi work our first night here.

Galapagos poster

Evening of Dances and talk at “The Old Hotel” next to Darwin Institute…

Rosalea and Julian, her nephew, have made this all possible and have graciously hosted us, as has Patricio. Tomorrow we begin the journey home.  We are grateful for this adventure. Here are some photos:

picture perfect birds by Shabda!

Galapagos Iguana

swimming hole on Santa Cruz Island

Shabda on the boat going to the islands….

What I’m writing about here inspires me deeply. Like a birth of a child, or winning a wished-for prize. Like that. Big WoW!

Tuesday Shabda and I drove north for over an hour to what used to be Camp Makama. I was last there in 1974, doing a Zikr hadrat with Murshid Hasan from Jordan, the man who gave me my name, Tamam. That time, Shabda was asked to play an enormous marching-band drum with two drumsticks. Boom-ba Boom-Boom-Boom-ba Boom…. I can still hear it. This time Shabda brought the Dances-of-Universal-Peace to this college-age LEAPYEAR group in their brand-new meeting-hall. I played the djembe drum, he played Bazooki. It was fun.  I did a couple spoken-word pieces. There was laughter and delight present. The silences after the dance were like jewels. But what I want to share here most, are the stories of how these young people are leaping out into far-off places, bringing their service, energy, and enthusiasm. How they open to new experience.

 LEAPNOW.   A brilliant organization created and founded by Sam Bull, in 2002 as “a system of education to create a transformation experience to usher young adults gracefully into adulthood.”

 I interviewed Aaron and Tiffany, mentioning I would post this on a blog. They politely smiled. No cell phones, computers, I pads, Radio TV. Whoa.

Aaron Jones is from Washington DC. I keep asking him about stuff while he was trying to finish his sandwich.  What do you like about Leap Year? Initially I was interested in a program for internal growth as well as external opportunity – turning the world into your classroom. That’s about it.

Another question: So the first semester you went with some of the Leap Now folks to India. What was that like? In the fall of 2012 we began in Nepal then crossed the boarder and went to Varanasi and then Rishikesh. From there we trekked in the nearby Himalayan Mountain area for six days or so then we rafted down the Ganges for 3 days, camping by the river at night. I body surfed some rapids.  After that, Delhi for 2 days then I returned home to Washington DC for two months. Now I’m here with the group again. Next week we all spread out and I go to Brooklyn, where I’m entered in the Brooklyn Young Filmmakers Center. I was into filmmaking and I always wanted to do something to help the disenfranchised youth in my DC neighborhood. I’d like to strike up awareness around those issues.  Film is a good way to do it.

Aaron told me his mother was a DC Social Worker, who raised him while a single parent. I’d say she did a terrific job. He’s applying to UC Colorado, Boulder and is inspired by the words of a mentor: “Always strive to be a Global Citizen,” He said modestly, being 18 years old and all, “ I don’t know if I’m (one) yet.”  <>  <>

Tiffany Wu, from Seattle, Washington was next. I asked her: Where did you spend your time this fall? Can you share something about that? I was in North India too. We’d raft the Ganges for up to 6 hours a day and camp out on beaches. [a note here: the part of the Ganges where they traveled is way upstream, clean and cold water, not like Varanasi.] The mountains on both sides of the river reminded me we are part of something bigger. The Himalayas. At night it was cold so we would sit around the fire telling stories and singing songs. Here’s one: She sang … the river is my sister—- the river is my brother, we sing together, we sing with one another. [Time out.] Tiffany and I are sitting in the sun by the river outside the main buildings at LEAPNOW now in Sonoma County. Her pretty voice, and the sweet moment made it impossible for me to write down any more of the song. It was just one of those moments.

Next week Tiffany is going to Mana Retreat Center, on the Coromandel Peninsula, North of Auckland New Zealand. It a peaceful and heavenly place.  We taught at Mana about a decade ago. She said, “I wanted to help out there, but Sol Peterson, Director of Mana suggested I concentrate on learning about Structural Integration, Somatic, Body-related, Movement therapy, so that’s what I’ll be studying.”

Others had individualized global plans as well. For example, one of the Rumis will offer care at a place dedicated to primates in South Africa; one plans volunteering in a woman’s clinic in Guatemala; another, teaching English and studying Martial Arts in Beijing; then there’s working at a horse ranch in Patagonia; learning midwifery skills in Bali, and walking The Camino de Sandiago (30-40 day pilgrimage) across the top of Spain, to name a few.

November in Peru. The group spent two days building composting toilets for a small Andean community of Huayllacocha. Before building, they first we had to ask permission and make an offering to Pachamama (Mother Earth) in a traditional ceremony led by their new friends from the Highlands.

LEAPYEAR meets in the fall then goes in groups of ten or so to say, South America and India. They return home to their families for 2 months, return to Sonoma and go further into the work, then they complete a rite of passage (this weekend) and are ready to go solo out into the world to a couple months of service and education. They meet back here in May. We will join them once again and hear about their experiences.

Sam writes me:“As a gap year counselor, every day I could see the glaring shortcomings of our traditional system of education, and I didn’t really have a good program that I could refer students to, that would give them everything they needed to successfully navigate the huge transitions involved in the passages from high school to college, family to independence, and adolescence into adulthood.”

In creating LEAPYEAR, Cassie [his wife] and I wanted to create a transformation experience to usher young adults gracefully into adulthood.   The intent was multi-faceted:·        To be an antidote to a system of education that flattens out student’s dimensionality, that robs them of their innate love of learning, that teaches them that education is something that is “done to them” rather than the coolest thing we can do, and that focuses on content rather than giving a context for a live well lived.

·        To give students a chance to reclaim their wholeness, before doing the rest of their education.

·        To give college credit for real learning in the real world.    We are currently accredited through Antioch University Seattle.

·        To incorporate “mystery school” elements, so that students could contact their multi-dimensionality and a connection with mystery.

·        To reconnect students to how amazing it is to be a human being.

·        To build in formal rites of passage involving the parents, so that students would be mentored into a conscious adulthood, rather than initiated through unconscious college rites.

LEAPNOW into LEAPYEAR!

We have graduated over 350 LEAPYEAR students, as well as three groups of LEAPYEAR 2 students.  Cassie and I are committed to using the organization itself as a learning laboratory for the transition into adulthood.   To this end, we created the LEAPYEAR2 program, where students return to our campus, run our kitchen and work on the land and in the office, and in the process learn to hold the container for future generations of LEAPYEAR students.  Tuition is offset by work-study, and LEAPYEAR2 students can earn another year of credit through Antioch.

Our website is www.leapnow.org, for a link from the blog.

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