|
My
journey to Islam is marked by many levels of resistance and
transformation. Five years ago, I knew nothing about Islam.
But a series of inter-related coincidences led to a tattoo
client gifting me with her Qur’an, when I asked her for
information about a wall hanging, embroidered with the ninety-nine
names of Allah, that I had purchased and hung in my studio. Since
I had no preconceptions about Islam, I read the Qur’an with
curiosity and an open mind. In it, I discovered that the
meaning of the word Islam, “surrender”, has the same origins as
the word “peace”. Peace in surrender to the Divine. The
truth of this resonated on many levels and still does.
As
I continued to read over the course of many months, I began to
experience an uncanny, yet powerfully exhilarating feeling that
I was not reading the Qur’an – the Qur’an was reading me.
The Qu’ran was speaking to the struggles and joys of not
only my experience — but to the universal truths inherent in our
collective human experience. This was the beginning of many
transpersonal experiences that followed.
Inspired by my study of the mystical tradition of Islam,
Sufism, I made a conscious decision to devote my life in the service
of One God. I would formally declare my belief — La ilaha
illa’ Allah — There is no other reality – no other god, except
God.
Resistance, first, came from my friends. They were
incredulous! Me — a Muslim? – A tattooed, bisexual Western
woman: Who owns a tattoo studio?
Who, for years, publicly explored and documented
neo-primitive rituals? Who
conducted and published research on male genital modification?
And who was known, on occasion, to celebrate her inner fag by
showing up at Fetish night in drag?
I
could see their point. But, I couldn't ignore the yearning of
my spirit, even if it meant that I might lose some of my friends.
So, in the fall of 1999, witnessed by two of my closest
friends -- a gay leatherman and a queer, cross-dressing Sikh, my
partner and I declared the Shahada at one of the most conservative
Orthodox mosques in Toronto.
Following the initial euphoria of what we deemed our spiritual
“reversion” to Islam, came the culture shock that our newly
embraced spiritual path was part of a cultural appendage full of
expectations circumscribed by tradition. During formal prayer
instruction, in preparation for our first Ramadan, we were told that
to be “real” Muslims meant unconditional acceptance of a host of
rules, regulations and dogma, that defined and decreed what it meant
to be a Muslim. To be a “real” Muslim woman,
for example, meant that I had to always dress modestly – covered
from head to toe. I could not wear makeup, perfume or
nail polish, lest I incite a man to lust after me. Similar
rationalizations were offered for why I could no longer have dinner
or even coffee with my male friends, especially if, “God
forbid”, they were homosexuals. No more tattooing –
on me or anybody else. And, during my instruction, I
had to pray behind a lattice-wall partition, hidden from the men.
The first and only time I stood behind that partition, my whole
being recoiled. All my life, I had resisted the patriarchal
cages that demanded women must submit, conform and be locked up –
for their own protection, of course. And just when I
thought I had attained, at the age of 41, the freedom to be myself,
expressing all the colourful aspects of my personality, I found
myself in another cage. In that pregnant moment of visceral
resistance, I made a choice: I would surrender to this
experience because I believed there was a lesson here for me.
But, if I were meant to be a Muslim, I would take my
cues and guidance directly from Source.
I asked – insha Allah – to be connected with “real”
Muslims to whom I could relate, and who would teach me what I needed
to know about being a Muslim. I would continue to study the
Qur’an and Sufism, and strive as the Qur’an instructs, to
“Remember God with each remembrance”. As the great Sufi master,
Rumi said, “There are many roads to the Ka’aba...but lovers know
that the true Holy Mosque is Union with God.”
Since
that time, many Muslims have walked through my front door and into
my studio, seeking to mark their personal transformations with a
tattoo. The majority did not consider themselves
“religious” Muslims. Many had rejected the “religion of
their parents” as old fashioned, limited and outdated. A
surprising number were social activists, however, devoting their
energies to addressing misconceptions about Muslims and Islam, and
advocating for social change both inside and outside their own
communities.
I
learned a lot from my Muslim clients, and they learned from me.
Many were curious why a modern Western woman would choose
Islam as her spiritual path. For some, this rekindled an
interest and closer re-examination of the religion they had once
rejected. One of my clients invited me to my first Eid celebration,
hosted by Al-Fatiha and Salaam Toronto’s Queer Muslim community.
Today, I am an active member in this community, – a
community which celebrates diversity and promotes social justice,
equality and peace. Our
vision is of a world that is free from prejudice, injustice,
misogyny, homophobia and racism. Resistance, now, is the
fertile ground for social change and global transformation.
I would like to speak now about a misunderstood Islamic concept:
jihad. The
word jihad, from jihadan,
means ‘a great striving’ —
striving to resist oppression, persecution and tyranny, and
to bring social justice, freedom and peace. Due, in part, to
misconceptions and stereotypes fostered by Western media, jihad is
perceived by many as a militaristic holy war waged by religious
fanatics. Tyranny – born of fear, ignorance and
self-importance, and projected as misogyny, homophobia, and
self-righteous entitlement – is not limited to narrow-minded
individuals and fundamentalist Islamic sects. Today, it is
underscored by imperialistic military campaigns, fueled by agendas,
that value money, domination and social control above human rights
and freedom. Look in the mirror, Mr. Bush, and you will see your
self-sworn enemy staring back.
Sufis
consider religious military campaigns as the “lesser jihad”.
The Great or Greater Jihad – jihad al nafs – is
the unremitting struggle within ourselves, with our internalized
oppression and hatred. The dissonant and diseased mind patterns of
the past perpetuate themselves through our ceaseless, unconscious
replaying of old, unresolved traumas, and our inability or
unwillingness to be fully present.
To dissolve social injustice, misogyny, homophobia, racism,
or any other form of suffering, we must first dissolve the mind
patterns that create and perpetuate suffering.
The
future is being shaped by our present state of consciousness, or
lack of consciousness. Transformation begins here – every person
on this planet holds the key to awakened consciousness. Rumi says, "You
wander from room to room , hunting for the diamond necklace that is
already around your neck!” Unless we can transform that
which we resist, it will, indeed, persist.
––
And this, inevitably, brings us back to God.
The Qur’an says, “All things are from
God,” and “Wherever you turn, there is God’s
face”. As creatures
who are equal members of Creation, we each have a responsibility to
ferret out the illusions – erected out of fear, wounding and
ignorance – and transform the self- imposed cages, the rigid
collars of self-deception and self-definition, that keep us separate
from ourselves, from each other, from our beautiful Mother Earth,
and from the whole Universe. Only then will we
successfully implement social models that will recognize equality
and the interconnectedness of all life.
Only then will we be able to restore balance, peace and
harmony. Resistance is
fertile – we can change the world and our relationship to
it, if we wake up to our responsibility and heal.
In closing, I would like to read a short poem from my favourite
poet, Hafiz.
I have learned so much from God
That I can no longer call myself
A Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim,
A Buddhist, a Jew.
The Truth has shared so much of Itself with me,
That I can no longer call myself
A man, a woman, an angel,
Or even pure Soul.
Love has befriended Hafiz so completely
It has turned to ash and freed Me
Of every concept and image
My mind has ever known.
Raven Rowanchilde, April 18, 2003. Blue Electric Eagle. Planetary
Moon Day 17,
Red Lunar Moon Year of Purification :
July 24, 2002-July 24, 2003
|
