I think the land prays

Photo by Ariana Salvo. May not be reproduced without permission.

Today was day three of leaf-raking at the home of a friend who has a good-sized property in Granite Bay. I left early to beat the traffic, coming out to find the car completely covered in a thick layer of frost and the entire city immersed in a heavy fog that enveloped everything and made me feel like I was driving through the scene from a detective novel. I got on the highway, joining the rush of traffic headed east, the fog still hovering close around me, making everything except what was immediately in front of me invisible. I drove a good portion of the way to Granite Bay in the fog, but then all of a sudden the road must have reached a higher elevation, because I came around a corner and in front of me the sky was clear and the sun was a crisp round warm pineapple yellow ball in the sky. It was so perfect, so low on the horizon and so easy to look at that my initial response was surprise that the moon was still so low on the horizon. The sun looked like a harvest moon, full and warm like a ripe peach growing riper by the minute. It took my breath away.

I arrived at my destination, pulled on my rubber boots and headed out to the fruit orchard for my rake and tarp. Every blade of grass was encased in ice, and as I headed up over the hill the sun broke across the neighbour's fence and slanted across the orchard, catching the frosted landscape at just the right angle to make everything appear to be radiating a soft, brilliant light. It was breathtakingly beautiful--the kind of view that I just *know* is a little gift from above -- the Big Boss upstairs was smiling down on me this morning (wonder what I did to deserve that?! ;-))

The frost slowly faded as I worked, but the beauty of how I began my day has stayed with me all day long. Fortunately I took my camera with me today, and was smart enough to stop and allow the shutter to clatter closed around the image of light hitting frost, so I wanted to share it with you here.

One of my favourite things is to sit with someone I love and hear/see them pray. It is like I am witnessing them at their most tender, vulnerable, honest and most beautiful because their soul is in conversation with its Creator. I think the land also prays sometimes--reflecting the perfection and beauty of its Creator in moments like I witnessed this morning, when it thinks nobody is watching. What do you think? ;-)

Friday prayers for Japan

It is Friday afternoon, and I am curled up on my bed with the sun shining in on me warm and golden. I have reached the time of day past which I, for one, am completely brain dead from fasting all day. Some people do just fine with not eating or drinking from sunrise 'til sunset. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people. I notice my energy level drop by late morning, and from then on I am not good for much of anything that requires any degree of mental sharpness. I spent most of my Friday working on my Canadian taxes and student loan consolidation paperwork, which meant lots of number crunching, which used up my brain food early on.

Fortunately it is Friday, and it is almost 4pm, so I only have a little over two hours to go 'til I break my fast for the day. The fast, while physically challenging, is spiritually rejuvenating, and I also find that because I feel so tired, it makes me slow way down. Slowing down makes me reflect more deeply, and notice details that I otherwise might not notice (and no, I am not referring to the detail work on the package of Green & Black's Maya Gold chocolate that is sitting on the table next to me, although I will admit that the chocolate was the first thing that my eyes passed over as I typed that).

I have been thinking about Japan all day. Some of you may not know this, but my work back on PEI was very interwoven with Japan because it was our main export market. While working for Springwillow Farms and Anne's PEI Farm, I farmed with many WWOOFers from Japan, and interacted with many business people who came to PEI to visit us and learn more about our agricultural products. Anne's PEI Farm actually has two main owners: Raymond Loo, and Kosaku Morita. Kosaku and his family are currently in Japan, and Raymond is traveling in New Zealand, on his way to Japan. In addition to the Japanese people that I met through work, there was a lovely group of Japanese pilgrims with me at the Baha'i World Centre last spring when I went on pilgrimage. I have also mentioned my dear friend Pascale many times in my blog. What I did not mention is that she had been living in Japan for the past few years, and only recently moved back to New Zealand to start her business. Her brother, his wife, and their child still live in Japan. So I have been thinking about Pascale a lot today, and the amount of upheaval that she has experienced over the last month, from losing her family home to the earthquake in Christchurch, to worrying about her brother and his family yesterday during the massive earthquake in Japan.

I have mentioned the round-the-world journal that I am working on with eleven of my friends a number of times in my blog. The journal miraculously reached New Zealand despite the earthquake, and Pascale has been recording her thoughts, ideas and inspiration in its pages through the aftermath of the Christchurch earthquake, and now through the earthquake in Japan. While I would feel profoundly affected by the devastation in Japan regardless of whether the journal existed or not, its existence is connecting the eleven women scattered around the globe together in new ways. It is making us more conscious of the on-the-ground details of what is happening in other places around the world, and at the same time reminding us that those "other places around the world" are actually home to people just like us, who happen to be going through an overwhelmingly challenging time right now.

As the Japanese reel from the havoc wreaked on their homeland. As they feel fear of aftershocks. As they locate loved ones who were missing, or are forced to deal with the death of family members and friends, maybe we could all slow down a little bit and say a prayer for them as our fellow human beings. Throughout what promises to be a gloriously sunny and blue-skied weekend, maybe we could pause and acknowledge that what is happening to them could just as easily be happening to us in the community that we call home. I don't think it matters how you pray. Silently or out loud. If you sing it or whisper it into the evening. Just send some positive energy rippling over the waters to our brothers and sisters in Japan.

On that note I will leave you. I have to put together some prayers for a devotional gathering tonight with a bunch of friends. I am thinking of suggesting that the theme be healing and supportive prayers for Japan. As you move through your weekend, slow down and notice the seemingly small details that bring you joy. The branches starting to bud or blossom. The reflection of sky on the wet pavement. Melting snow. A misty moon. The sound of migrating birds headed north. The feeling of holding someone you love close. Making a friend or family member laugh. The taste of a hot cup of Darjeeling tea. The little joys that you have that make your life beautiful. You never know when you will lose your home, or your job, or those you love. Take the time to savour this moment. To appreciate your blessings. Have a great weekend!

Reverb10, Day 29: 'Abdu'l-Bahá's North American boots

Prompt: Defining moment. Describe a defining moment or series of events that has affected your life this year.

The author of this prompt is Kathryn Fitzmaurice:
The Year the Swallows Came Early
@KFitzmaurice

ABDU'L-BAHA IN LINCOLN PARK, CHICAGO, 1912 (COURTESY BAHA'I NATIONAL ARCHIVES, WILMETTE)

Most people I know visit Montreal for the famous Jazz festival that happens in the summer. Or to go shopping, and enjoy the good restaurants and cafes. My main reason for passing through the city was that I wanted to go visit the home of the Maxwell family – a well established family in the Montreal area who welcomed ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, the son of Baha’u’llah (the founder of the Baha'i faith), into their beautiful home when he visited Canada in the mid 1900s. The Baha’i community has maintained the property, recently restoring it completely and bringing all of the furniture back to the home that had been there when ‘Abdu’l-Bahá visited. Over time the home has become a place of pilgrimage. A spot where Baha’is can go to reflect, pray and connect with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. Recently the site was named the first official Baha’i shrine in North America.

 

‘Abdu’l-Bahá spent nine months touring North America in 1912, at the age of sixty-eight. He traveled tirelessly all over the country, giving public speeches at universities, churches, synagogues, clubs and private homes. His speeches were about the message his Father had brought. They were about peace, unity, the elimination of all forms of prejudice, and spiritual life, among many other topics. You can read an account of his time in America in Amy Renshaw's book Voyage of Love: Abdu'l-Baha in North America. You can read a wonderful selection of his talks for free, here. A dear friend of mine, Brent Poirier, is another rich source of stories ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. He website, Storytelling in the Baha'i Faith, is a gem of a resource, if you would like to read more inspiring stories. The photograph of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá at the top of this blog entry is "borrowed" from his website.

I started getting to know ‘Abdu’l-Bahá as a child. The first prayer that I learned as a child was written by him. It goes: "O God, guide me, protect me, make of me a shining lamp and a brilliant star.  Thou art the Mighty and the Powerful." ~‘Abdu’l-Bahá

My experience of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá as a child and young adult was as a white-bearded elderly man wearing a simple robe and turban, the customary attire for men in much of the Middle East during his lifetime. I always had a photo of him in my bedroom growing up, and I envisioned him as a kind, loving, gentle, grandfather-like figure. I had heard many stories of how much ‘Abdu’l-Bahá loved children, so I always felt a closeness to him. 

Last year I took part in a Ruhi book 8 study course. The Ruhi Institute conducts educational programs for individuals from the age of 5 through adulthood. The materials were originally developed by the Baha'i community of Columbia to spiritually invigorate their community, and to help provide community members with training that would give them the practical skills to best serve the needs of their communities and the world around them. The Ruhi materials were so successful in generating community development that the materials spread, and today are being used all over the world. The Ruhi materials are constantly being updated, and as communities have more learning experiences with them, new materials are being developed. Ruhi book 8 is about the Covenant of Baha'u'llah, and much of it is about ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, because he is the Centre of the Covenant for Baha'is. The stories about ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, and the extracts from his Tablets are deeply inspiring and moving, and by the end of the course of study I felt a much stronger and personal connection to him than I had felt before. 

I chose to go visit the shrine in Montreal on a chilly February night. Bundled up in as many layers as I could get away with and still be able to move, I took the metro across the lit up city, transferred to the bus, and then walked down the icy pavement along a long line of beautiful, graceful stone homes. My silver breath hanging in the air, the snow all around me, and the elegantly style in which the homes were built made me feel as if I had stepped through a gap in the time continuum. I half expected a horse-drawn carriage to clatter by along the street beside me. 

Eventually I came to a home whose windows glowed with a warm yellow light, and I turned up a short walkway and rang the bell. The door was answered by a young Persian man with a radiant smile. He welcomed me in and showed me into a small cloakroom where he said I could leave my belongings during my visit. Having set down all my belongings and removed my shoes, another man approached and offered to give me a tour of the home. I was lucky, he told me. I was the only visitor, and given what a chilly night is was they would not be surprised if I were the only visitor all night. I was taken into the living room where ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had given many talks while in the city. It was a large rectangular room with a fireplace at one end. My tour guide explained that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá used to sit next to the fireplace when he gave his talks, this being the source of the term “firesides” that the Baha’i community often uses when referring to gatherings of people for the purpose of discussing the Baha’i faith. 

I was also taken into the office of Mr.Maxwell. The office had the beautiful, heavy antique desk in it that Mr. Maxwell had done his writing and other work at, as well as a number of ornate pieces of furniture. I was told that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had met with Mr. Maxwell in this very room on numerous occasions during the time that he was staying at the Maxwell home, and I conjured up images of the two men sitting deep in discussion in this richly decorated room, with the city of Montreal busily going about its business outside, oblivious of the noble visitor that they had in their midst.

Upstairs, I made a rather quick sweep of the rooms that had formerly been inhabited by members of the Maxwell family, before entering the room that drew me in like a magnet. I stood for a long time in the doorway of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá's room, taking in the placement of every piece of furniture: the old four-poster bed with the white embroidered bedspread over it; the dresser; the windows on the far side of the room that looked down the hill over the city of Montreal; and the chair that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had sat in next to the windows. I paused at the door because I wanted to take it in, but also because I felt the need to prepare myself to enter the space that he had inhabited. I had read stories of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, his kindness and generosity to all who crossed his path; his ability to sense what his companions were thinking without their uttering a single word; his absolute devotion and humility; his attitude of servitude and his love for all people, but entering a space that he had actually inhabited made all the stories come to life in a way that I had never before experienced. Although he was not in the room, I felt as though I was entering his presence, and it took a few minutes to ready my heart to enter this special place, and be wholly present.

I stood by the bed first, and imagined ‘Abdu’l-Bahá resting upon it, his white beard and hair flowing over the pillow. I walked around the perimeter of the room, stopping to take in each detail and commit it to memory. I found myself being drawn to his chair. I stood in front of it, then knelt, and was suddenly overcome with a rush of emotion. I felt deeply blessed to be in this room alone, and to have the chance to talk to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá like so many had done in person not so long ago, in this very place. I said many prayers, and in between the prayers I spoke with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. I thanked him. I asked questions, and for guidance on my journey. As I knelt in front of his chair, I felt as if he was sitting there right in front of me, and an overwhelming feeling of love poured over me. Love for this man who dedicated his entire life to serving others. I was there for a long time. Time seemed to disappear, and all that existed while I was between those walls was my heart, and the conversation that it was having with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. 

When I left two hours later it felt as though all my worries and concerns had been removed, and as though the space they had occupied had been filled up with a deep and tender love unlike any I had felt before. I felt as if I was carrying in my heart the most precious gift I had ever been given, and I held it tenderly in my chest as I walked back to the metro stop, awareness centred inward to the warm otherworldly silence of the blissful connection I had just experienced as the lights and voices, horns and vibrations of Montreal slid past me like a dream. 

The Baha'i House of Worship in Wilmette stunning against a blue sky

About a week later I visited the Baha'i House of Worship in Wilmette, Illinois. It is a spectacular architectural achievement, and I spent a few hours taking in the sheer beauty of the structure, and saying prayers. 

These pillars on the House of Worship have the symbols of the major world religions beautifully carved into them. Baha'i Houses of Worship have 9 sides, which represent the nine major religions of the world, all of which converge into a single point at the dome, to represent the unity of all the world's faiths. They are open to people of all faiths, for personal prayer and meditation.

The Baha'i House of Worship in Wilmette at night

Below the actual Hose of Worship are many offices and the Baha'i archives. I had not planned on visiting the archives, but one of the very kind souls working in the House of Worship insisted, whisking me down a hall and introducing me to the archivist. There was a lot to see. Tablets and photographs and other personal items belonging to both Baha'u'llah and ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. But the items that touched me on this occasion the most were ‘Abdu’l-Bahá's shoes. It might seem rather plain, when I was surrounded by so many rare historical objects. There were two pairs of shoes sitting in the glass case. One was a pair of cream-coloured Middle Eastern slippers. The other was a pair of big black boots. The boots may have been from the Middle East also, but they looked very western. They struck me because precisely because they were so ordinary. They were well worn and scuffed, not shiny and new. They looked like a sturdy pair of boots that someone living in North America at that time in history might have trudged through snowy streets in. Practical. Comfortable. Ordinary. Very ordinary. 

For some reason, all my experiences of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá -- the prayers, the tablets, the stories, the simple photographs, and my experience in Montreal--all seemed to connect to a very real person in the form of these boots. It impressed me that while ‘Abdu’l-Bahá wore his traditional clothing, he chose to wear western boots on his feet in North America. He seemed to be embodying the need to be adaptable and practical, and at the same time communicate a grounded sense of humility. Just as I had felt when sitting in front of the chair that he had regularly occupied in the room that he had stayed in, in Montreal, as I stood in the basement of the House of Worship in front of the glass case of personal objects, I felt as though he was standing right there in front of me in his American boots, smiling. I do not know why those boots made such an impression on me. But since that day last winter, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá has become a much more real presence in my life. I feel like he is someone I can take a walk under the changing Autumn trees with; or a friend that I can sit with in silence and just be. 

As I move through my days, he inspires me to serve, and accompanies me as I do. He reminds me how important it is to listen, to be loving, and to practice humility in my everyday interactions. He reminds me to persevere, and to look to the limitless strength of God instead of my own limited resources when I am attempting to accomplish something. He has taught me about being lighthearted. My favourite stories about him involve laughter, and the image in my mind of him laughing in joyful delight never fails to curl the edges of my lips into a smile. I do not know why those boots made such an impression on me. Perhaps ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was humorously teaching me the importance of walking a spiritual path wearing practical shoes. Boots, to be precise!

Reverb10, Day 28: Achieving economic prosperity

Prompt: Achieve. What’s the thing you most want to achieve next year? How do you imagine you’ll feel when you get it? Free? Happy? Complete? Blissful? Write that feeling down. Then, brainstorm 10 things you can do, or 10 new thoughts you can think, in order to experience that feeling today.

The author of this prompt is Tara Sophia Mohr:
The Women's Seder Sourcebook: Rituals & Readings for Use at the Passover Seder
@tarasophia

"The best of men are they that earn a livelihood by their calling and spend upon themselves and upon their kindred for the love of God." Bahá'u'lláh

"...cooperation, mutual aid and reciprocity are essential characteristics in the unified body of the world of being, inasmuch as all created things are closely related together and each is influenced by the other or deriveth benefit therefrom, either directly or indirectly." 'Abdu'l-Bahá

"Be anxiously concerned with the needs of the age ye live in, and centre your deliberations on its exigencies and requirements."  Bahá'u'lláh 

"...the implications of the law of Huqúqu'lláh for the realization of a number of the principles of the Faith, such as the elimination of the extremes of wealth and poverty, and a more equitable distribution of resources, will increasingly become manifest as the friends assume in ever greater measure the responsibility for observing it...this mighty law, a source of inestimable blessings for all humanity." The Universal House of Justice, Ridvan 2006, Huqúqu'lláh Compilation 2007, 104. 


Two words: Economic prosperity. No more scraping by. It was fine to have to fall back on my savings when I was in my twenties. It is no fun now that I am in my thirties. I have lots to offer the world, and I am prepared to work hard, but from now on I expect to be compensated accordingly. There are things that I would like to do with my life, such as raising children, paying off student loans, contributing to the Baha'i fund, buying a piece of land, and building a home. I do not want to live excessively, but I do want to know that I can provide for myself, and, someday, for my family. I feel strongly about being capable of being financially independent. I need to know that I can stand on my own two feet. As a Baha'i, I have a spiritual and moral responsibility as a member of the human race to be contributing to leveling out the current economic inequalities that exist between the wealthiest and the poorest members of our global community. I am not alright with the differences between my quality of life and the quality of life that I saw many people living in Cairo when I was there in 2006. And I know that the citizens of many countries, like Haiti, fair far worse. Achieving personal economic prosperity means I will have the freedom to contribute more generously to the many global efforts that are working to level out these inequalities. Economic prosperity has both material and spiritual implications. 

I imagine that being economically prosperous would mean that I would feel more peace of mind, because I would have the means at my disposal to be an agent of change at a level that I currently do not possess. Of course I always have my time and my skills, and I give of these whenever I can. But sometimes making things happen in life means having the material resources to do so. I also imagine that being economically more prosperous would mean feeling freer to travel, to pursue business ideas, to give to charities, and to attend family gatherings and important life events such as a close friend's wedding every now and then. Other states of being that I associate with economic prosperity are feeling less stressed, and more independent; possessing a greater degree of self-confidence, and having the ability to pursue a wider range of creative and educational projects that will benefit my community. 

So I am obviously not there yet. I have goals, and I am working towards them, but I have a ways to go before I will be able to be making large contributions to charities in Haiti. I will keep working towards my long term goals in the new year, but in the meantime, there are small things that I can do now to help me progress towards my goals. 

I have come up with a list of 10 things I can DO or THINK RIGHT NOW that will empower me, give me peace of mind, help release stress, and make me feel more independent and self-confident (most of the feelings I associate with financial prosperity). Hopefully some of these will inspire you on your path towards your own goal!  

1. Pray. Baha'u'llah, the founder of the Baha'i faith, says that our prayers have a profound effect on our lives, even if we cannot at first see the effect: 
"Intone, O My servant, the verses of God that have been received by thee,
as intoned by them who have drawn nigh unto Him,
that the sweetness of thy melody may kindle thine own soul,
and attract the hearts of all men. Whoso reciteth, in the privacy of his chamber,
the verses revealed by God, the scattering angels of the Almighty
shall scatter abroad the fragrance of the words uttered by his mouth,
and shall cause the heart of every righteous man to throb.
Though he may, at first, remain unaware of its effect, yet the virtue
of the grace vouchsafed unto him must needs sooner or later exercise
its influence upon his soul." -Baha'u'llah

2. Compile a list of positive affirmations and quotes. By repeating certain ideas or thoughts on a regular basis, they become an integral part of how I think. Two of my favourites, which I repeat to myself regularly, are:
"I give you a commandment which shall be for a covenant between you and me — that ye have faith; that your faith be steadfast as a rock that no storms can move, that nothing can disturb, and that it endure through all things even to the end;...As ye have faith so shall your powers and blessings be. This is the balance---this is the balance---this is the balance." -Abdu'l-Baha

and:

"The greatest divine bounty is a confident heart. When the heart is confident, all the trials of the world will be as child's play. Should they throw him into a prison, should they cast him into a black well, should they heap him all manner of afflictions, still his heart is content, peaceful, and assured." -Abdu'l-Baha

3. Do yoga. I was never into yoga. I have always thought that the only sports worth my attention were the vigorous ones that required considerable huffing and puffing, like running and gymnastics. But I am finding that yoga not only keeps my body strong (and sometimes very sore!!), it also does truly amazing things to my mind and heart. It helps me to keep my attention focused on my goals, which brings me closer and closer to achieving them. 

4. Pick the brains of people who are economically prosperous. I have been learning the immense value of role models lately. Surrounding myself with people who are where I want to be is a tremendous encouragement and learning experience. I may not have my dream job yet, but there are plenty of people living all around me who do. I just need to find them and flash my angelic smile ;-)

5. Give myself a break. I can be incredibly hard on myself. Every now and then, stopping and actually saying out loud "thank you for sharing that opinion/criticism/comment -- but personally I think I am a rock star," is always helpful. Anything that lightens the heart and makes me smile at myself is a positive step towards achieving my goals. I was just at an an exhibit of post-impressionists in San Francisco the other day, and was reflecting on the fact that Van Gogh only sold ONE painting during his lifetime, and he sold it to his own brother. I mean, really. How many famous people have stories like this? tonnes, that's how many.

6. Re-read Marianne Williamson's quote, made famous by Nelson Mandela. I won't quote it all here, but you will know what I am talking about by the this short piece: "We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, out presence automatically liberates others." If that does not make you feel hopeful, I do not know what will. Sheer genius, I tell you! 

7. Celebrate the small steps. Whenever I first start trying to work towards something, my goal feels really far off. Celebrating the small accomplishments along the way breaks up the distance between where I am standing right now and where I want to be standing. It also encourages me along the way! 

8. Talk to a friend. Friends are the best thing to ever walk the surface of the earth, in my opinion. Whenever I am feeling like none of my plans are going to work out, and as though I would be better off to crawl into bed and pull the covers over my head, I put in a call to a friend who points out all of my assets, and how much progress I have made, and how valuable my contribution to the world is, and the world suddenly gets much brighter. Works like a charm every time. 

9. Serve. Offering service is like a magic salve to any of life's problems. Serving others always makes me feel ten times better about my own life and capabilities. I feel peace of mind and heart, less stressed, and far more optimistic about what I have to contribute to the world. 

10. Have a little faith. Having faith when I am feeling shaky sometimes feels almost impossible, but when I push myself a little, and assure myself that if I have a little more faith, things will work out, I usually find that things start looking up. 
 
So there you have it! I will end this blog with a poem that lifts my spirits every time I read it. It is by Amatu'l-Baha Ruhiyyih Khanum:



THIS IS FAITH
To walk where there is no path
To breathe where there is no air
To see where there is not light-
This is Faith.

To cry out in the silence,
The silence of the night,
And hearing no echo believe
And believe again and again-
This is Faith.

To hold pebbles and see jewels
To raise sticks and see forests
To smile with weeping eyes-
This is Faith.

To say: "God, I believe" when others deny,
"I hear" when there is no answer,
"I see" though naught is seen-
This is Faith.

And the fierce love in the heart,
The savage love that cries
Hidden Thou art yet there !
Veil Thy face and mute Thy tongue
yet I see and hear Thee, Love,
Beat me down to the bare earth,
Yet I rise and love Thee, Love !"
This is Faith.

Reverb10, Day 12: A state of prayer

Prompt: Body integration. This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn't mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present? 

The author of this prompt is Patrick Reynolds:
The Knowledge Workers Survival Guide
@patrickcantype

YES. Absolutely. I cannot believe I have been thinking about this question all day, reflecting on my yoga practice, hiking, swimming, and all the other things that I do that make me feel present, and it took me until almost 11pm tonight to realize that the one time when I am completely integrated -- where I become a single, undivided being, is when I am praying.

When I am in a state of prayer, my body, which I envision as a temple for my soul; and my mind, whose purpose, in my understanding, is to facilitate the development of the spiritual capabilities, are working together to facilitate the experience of communion between my soul and its Creator.

The ultimate experience of this union of mind and body was when I was on pilgrimage in the Baha'i Holy Land this past spring. From the minute I began my ten days of pilgrimage, it was as if any consciousness of having a mental awareness and a physical body completely disappeared. I felt as if I was floating through my days. I was so intensely connected to the spiritual reality within and outside of myself that every faculty I have was being used to serve the intensity of my experience. So much so that the perfume of the gardens, the sound of the fountains bubbling against marble and tumbling down the mountainside, the melody of birdcall, the texture of cool stone beneath my feet, hand-woven carpets against my palms and forehead when I prostrated on the floor, and even the intensity of light flooding the rooms I moved through became a single wave of overwhelming power that swept me up and carried me, completely immersed in its majesty, until I departed from that blessed land.

I have the opportunity to immerse myself in this experience of physical, mental and spiritual unity every day when I sit in silence and enter the world of prayer, but in Haifa this past spring I was given the gift of immersing myself in this place every moment of every day for ten days straight, so it intensified the experience significantly.

I try to recall the sensations of being in Israel when I close my eyes to prayer. I imagine the saturating light pouring in from skylights above me; the richly woven Persian carpets beneath me; the rich perfume of roses hanging in the air around me. When I close my eyes every day for my obligatory prayer, and turn to face Bahji, when I pray in the morning as I begin my day, and at night before I lie down to rest, every illusion of there being a separation between my body, my mind and thoughts, and my soul seems to fade, and I find myself hanging in a profound and mysterious sensation of oneness. Oneness within, and oneness with everything and everyone outside of myself also. It is not limited to the confines of my physical body.

What is your experience of oneness?