A brief departure from the profane…
The sighting of a nascent celestial lantern… and Ramadan comes to us, voices issuing from Cancer to Capricorn, Guatemala to Gabon, a global call. The fasting month… the burning away: of excess, of baggage, of spiritual impedimenta, of human failings, of moral fallings. And at the end of this soul catharsis, a re-birth.
I’ve always looked forward to Ramadan, my Islamic birth month. It was on the fifth day of fasting, Islamic year 1403 AH, a winter’s Friday afternoon at that time, when at 14:05 I arrived to lay claim to my path.
But sentimentality is not why the holy month beckons to me.
It’s the quiet. And the visit to its oasis for reflection amid daily drudgeries; a place to befriend the Greatest of Friends, to pick up the acquaintance where you last left it, before you were distracted by your obligations and tribulations, forgetting that He still held on to your hand.
A period from sunrise to sunset; all that is carnal and base put away, leaving only the spirit, the essence of humankind, the reflection of Himself.
It is a beautiful time.
30 days out of 365, brief, yes, but not ephemeral.
To all observing Ramadan, may its spirit live on in your own spirit throughout the rest of the year, Ameen.
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