The Short Words

The Seventh Word

Suddenly, he heard a thunderous voice from his right side:

“Do not fall for it! Say to that cunning man: ‘If you can kill the lion behind me, remove the gallows before me, heal the wounds on my right and left sides, and prevent the journey that must be undertaken, then do so and convince me. Only then call me to enjoyment. Otherwise be silent, O fool! I want to hear what this benevolent person has to say.’”

Now then, O my nafs, which enjoyed itself in youth and now weeps over it! Know that the soldier represents the human being, that is, you. The lion represents the hour of death. The gallows symbolizes death, passing away, and separation, through which, with the passage of time, every friend says farewell and disappears. One wound represents the unsettling and boundless powerlessness of the human being, and the other wound represents his tormenting and endless neediness. The exile and the journey symbolize the life in which we are tested. It begins in ālam-i arwāh and continues through the womb, youth, old age, the world, the grave, ālam-i barzakh, resurrection, and the Sirāt. The two formulas are belief in Allah and belief in the hereafter.

Indeed, through these sacred formulas, death becomes for a believer an obedient horse that carries him from the worldly prison to the gardens of Paradise and the presence of the Most Merciful. It is for this reason that the believers who have seen the truth behind death have loved death. Even before death came, they longed for it. Moreover, the unstoppable passage of time—which leads us to passing away, separation, death, and departure—through these formulas becomes a means by which one may behold with perfect pleasure the ever-renewing, colourful, and varied wondrous artworks, miraculous creations, and gifts of mercy of Sāni-i Dhu’l-Jalāl. Indeed, the renewal of mirrors upon which the seven colours of sunlight appear, and the changes on a cinema screen, bring forth more pleasant and more beautiful images.

As for the two medicines: one medicine consists of showing patience and tawakkul; of relying upon the power and trusting in the wisdom of your Creator.

Indeed, what worries can remain for a person who, with awareness of his own powerlessness, relies upon Sultān-i Jihān, who, according to

كُنْ فَيَكُون

brings everything into being with a single command? For in the face of the most terrifying calamity, he will say

اِنَّا لِلّٰهِ وَاِنَّٓا اِلَيْهِ رَاجِعُونَ

and, with peace of heart, place his trust in his Rabb-i Rahīm. Truly, one who knows Allah finds delight in his own powerlessness and reverential fear. Indeed, there can be delight in fear. For example, if a one-year-old child had sufficient intelligence and were asked what state is the most pleasant and sweetest for him, he would say:

“The state in which, aware of my own powerlessness and weakness, I fear my mother’s gentle tap, yet still seek refuge in her loving embrace.” However, the shafqa of all mothers together is only a flash of the mercy of Allah. Therefore, perfected believers have found such delight in powerlessness and reverential fear that they have renounced their own ability and strength, and through their powerlessness have taken refuge in Allah; they have made powerlessness and reverential fear a means of intercession for themselves.