Lightning flashes in the dark sky from time to time tonight, and the thunder sounds not long after. I am in the quiet of my home office. The fan whirs. It’s been a day of internally preparing to let go of a lot of material stuff–clothes, shoes, papers. I have clothes and shoes I haven’t worn in years and yet when I moved to Philly, I brought them. They only took up space as I continued not to wear them into the present moment. For me, Ramadan can be a time of shedding–shedding habits and ways of being that no longer serve. Ramadan invites me to be aware of my physical consumption of food and drink, but also my consumption of media, of conversation and interactions that are not nourishing. Recently, I find myself listening to music less. As an avid music fan from the time I was a kid, I rocked Lite FM whenever I could (Mom knew that was the station we would be listening to on any car ride) until I was old enough to order my first cd’s through the “99 cents for the first 12” deals that were so popular when I was a teenager. I listened to live radio shows to discover artists new to me. Indigo Girls, Pearl Jam, Billie Holiday, Joan Osborne, Dave Matthews Band, David Gray, Zap Mama, Ani DiFranco, Blues Traveler, Sweet Honey in the Rock, were prevailing sounds of my high school years. I was a fiend for cd’s. I grew a hearty collection. I never liked music with lyrics that insulted or demeaned. I found such works hard to ignore for the sake of a beat. Now, I have a subscription to a music service and for some years, every Tuesday I was looked to see what new releases were available. I listened to a lot of music across all kinds of genres, read music blogs, listen to music podcasts. Now, sometimes I don’t check for weeks. You can imagine, no one could have told me there would come a day when my hunger for music was anything other than ravenous. But here it is. I find that sometimes I need a lot of silence in order to expand my inner landscape. Sometimes music, in the ways I listen, support that expansion or water my inner gardens and sometimes it doesn’t. There is much that is musical in Sufi tradition. By no means do I mean to suggest, as some do, that all music is bad, forbidden, etc. No, for me I am noticing that the sounds that nourish me are shifting. I’m not eagerly rushing to the Blues Traveler album I used to wear out, for example. That being said, throw me in an African wedding any day and it’s on and popping, as they say. I will dance joyfully til I’m wore out.
What sounds/music nourishes you? Inshallah may today be full of nourishment at every level! Amin.
Well I didn’t mean this to be about my evolving relationship with music exactly. All this to say that it’s time to let go of items that served years ago. I am so grateful for the shirts my mom gave me when I interned at the UN. I needed good tops for that purpose. I don’t think I’ve worn them since 2005 or 2006. Why am I still holding on to them? Why am I still holding on to shoes I wore once or twice? Why am I holding on to papers I haven’t looked at in years? Would I miss them if they go? Some of the holding has been in the vein of “this is a nice blank. I can wear it [at some other time that’s not now].” And then I don’t. The possibility is the thing has had me hold on. Here’s the thing: I live now. I am only sure of now. Holding on for a possibility that’s not assured, and which will offer its own potential, doesn’t make as much sense to me as it once did. I view this purging of items as an opportunity to also clear some internal space, as fasting does.
When I’m tempted to hold on to something I haven’t actually used, remind me I said this: )
Is there anything in the material world you’re holding on to that you no longer need?