‘Siyaha’ or ‘Safar’ – Wandering in search of the Beloved

According to a paper by Arin Salamah Qudsi (“Crossing the Desert: Siyaha, and Safar as key concepts in early Sufi Literature and Life”), these two terms both refer to ‘travelling’ in early Sufism, however, only the first of them, siyaha (which relates to the ‘science of the within – ilm batin) was considered necessary by some Sufi sheiks, in order to facilitate the process of inner awakening.

For others, such travelling occurred only as ‘authorised’ by need (pilgrimage for example) and it was this form of travelling that was known as safar.There is yet a further term to do with ‘travelling’ in Islam and that is Rihla which is related to the idea of the ‘science of appearance’ or ilm zahir (‘science of the outer’). It is the first of these, Siyaha, that is of most interest to us here in relation to my question, “Are Sufis Nomads?”

It is interesting to note that ‘siyaha’ can also be used, according to our author, as a synonym for fasting, as in, ‘the one who travels for the sake of worshipping God does not supply himself with food, exactly as the one who fasts.’

Krishnamurti said that “Truth is a pathless land” – early Sufis travelled in like manner because this was the way to begin to ‘see,’ to open their inner eyes and ears, their inner world (ilm batin, or ilm Tasawuf) – for, as spoken of in another piece recently blogged (The Power of Words and their Currency), it is in the very ‘newness of things’ that one may find oneself to be freed of the tyranny of familiarity, which, if it doesn’t necessarily breed contempt, perhaps does lead one to ‘overlooking’ that which is ‘closer to us than our jugular vein’!

The ‘spiritual’ pursuit, at least for those new to the ‘path,’ may feel at times like a ‘smorgasbord,’ where anything and everything can be mixed-in to tempt the eager palate of the taster. In fact, nothing could be further from the truth of the matter, for, without sufficient discipline and informed choices, such ‘tastings’ can just as quickly leave the seeker confused and finding themselves in a place where nothing seems to satiate their jaded ‘taste-buds.’ As a Buddhist teacher told a close friend a number of years ago now: “You’ve been knocking on many doors. It’s time to chose one and go in!” Only by so doing can one learn the necessity of discipline, and through that, discernment which is so vital to make any real progress on this ‘path of return;’ all else leaves one with “just ashes in one’s hands.”

In todays world where whatever one wants is right there, to be had at a moment’s notice and with sufficiently deep pockets, much precious time can be quickly wasted, and time is more precious than gold.

The question asked at the outset needs to be repeated here, for perhaps it is not yet clear. If you recall it was, ‘Are Sufis Nomads’?

Perhaps it would help to clarify what, at least in English, is to be understood by the term ‘nomad.’ Nomad, as used in English comes from the Greek root, nemein,‘to pasture’ or nomas, ‘roaming in search of pasture.’ However, as one begins to open this concept up it leads us to an ever-deepening inquiry which can be helpful indeed if one perseveres. The whole idea of Sufis as Nomads or Travellers returns us to the purpose of ‘journeying,’ and to comprehend this, we really need to come to grips with the use of metaphor (as a linguistic container) in which one attempts to carry over something from one place to another. What is this ‘something?’ Sufis call this ilm or knowledge. Not, one should hasten to add, knowledge of the outer realm (zahir) but of the inner one (batin). This is why, in search of Truth (the One), ‘travel’ is essential! But we then must ask ourselves, what does the Sufi understand by this term ‘to travel’? Pasture, and pasturing leads one to the idea of one who takes flocks of animals to those places where the very basics of their lives can be found. The Sufis live for such sustenance, but just what is it that they are in such need of, and where is this ‘it’ to be found that they may have this need satisfied? Jesus said to Simon-Peter, “Feed my sheep” (John 21:15-17). Are we to suppose that he meant the woolly creatures that wander the paddocks? No more did the Sufis think that this ‘wandering’ was in search of ‘pasture’ in the sense of this world’s food (zahir). Such journeys that they did undertake had a purpose. This purpose was to clear the heart and mind by releasing them from the everyday round of things such as to take one back to a state where one might ‘see,’ ‘hear,’ and thus ‘respond’ to that which ‘is’ as if for the first time. New eyes, and new ears, then, not to be sure of the outer kind, at least at first, but such that one may become aware of the world within. Travel was undertaken to shake the dust from one’s eyes and ears such that something that was always ‘there’ wherever one may find oneself, could be discovered anew. For this travel seemed a necessary antidote, then, as – for some – it is now. It is in this sense that Sufis both are and are not at one and the same time Nomads, or Nomadic people, belonging nowhere and yet everywhere at the same time.

Having lived and worked with ‘Nomadic’ people for a number of years it quickly became apparent the extent and depth of other factors at play here when one speaks of ‘nomads.’ Rich tapestries of meaning must be navigated in order to make any sense of what ‘place’ meant in the lives of these essentially nomadic peoples…it wasn’t just about ‘landscape’. Features weren’t just features. All of it had meaning implicit, if hidden. Stories had meaning. Timing (of events) had meaning. They knew this. We – as outsiders – had to be prepared to learn as we went. I vividly recall one Saturday morning, undertaking a brief family outing to the local store to get a few groceries for the weekend. A simple and familiar enough task that all would instantly be able to recognise and be at ease with. This ‘comfort’ however, was shattered when we came across a whole group of women and children hunkered down on the dirt road, heads down, eyes averted. There was tension in the air. They glanced up as they saw us coming, with an air of almost disbelief (just as we did them).What were they doing? What were we doing? Didn’t we know that there was “Business” about to happen? Weren’t we aware that the ceremony men were on the loose in the immediate area, about to pounce on them, their children, child, and whisk them away for initiation ceremonies? Hadn’t we ‘heard’ their calls? The answer to all of these questions was of course no, no, and no. Yet, had we known, would we have behaved differently? Of course! But hailing from a place that was a million miles from this ‘performance’ and tens of thousands of years in the making, didn’t allow us to know, much less to respond, appropriately. But what was happening there, in the red dust street of this tiny outback community, was real in any sense one wishes to apply that word. If they, those women and children sitting there in the dust, were to be discovered ‘seeing’ these “business-men,” the punishment could be death – for this was ‘secret men’s business’ and not therefore to be seen or known by women or children (just as ‘women’s business’ was closed for men).

What has the foregoing got to do with our conceptual understanding of ‘nomads,’ and nomadic lifestyles, and how does it facilitate any deeper understanding of the ‘path of return,’ and in what way can this lead to us being better able to discern what our own behaviours and attitudes should be in the face of such situations? We began by talking about spiritual pursuits as sometimes feeling like a smorgasbord where anything and everything can be mixed in to tempt the palates of the ones who ‘seek’ after such things. Likewise we also spoke of “knocking on many doors” and the need to make choices not all of which were of equal value. In all of this was embedded the further concept of the need to develop discrimination. Knowledge of the kind we are talking about here is worth working for. The people sitting in the dust and heat of that road in the western desert that morning, as we made our bemused way towards the shop, were, to some of ‘us’ with more ‘modern’ worldviews, more than a little odd, even perhaps a little laughable, until or unless one is capable of feeling the frisson in the air surrounding them at the moment of encounter. To do this one has to respect the tens of thousands of years of cultural practice that have opened the way to this moment. That we didn’t have access to, nor is it easily come by. Only through giving something of oneself to such a pursuit is one perhaps able to enter another’s story. Discernment comes from discipline which itself come from disciple. To become a disciple is to learn from another as a pupil. To learn to properly discern one must put oneself in the position of a student (of ‘one who knows’) as a child to a teacher. To do this requires a degree of trust in the one who (may) claim to know. In this day and age where trust is often misplaced and charlatans (and liars and obfuscators) abound, how can one learn to trust such as to give the necessary attention to really be open to learning in such a way, perhaps the only way, on this journey? Jesus said, “Unless ye turn and become as little children, ye shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven…” (Mat. 18:3). So, such ignorance as ours on that day in the western desert country of central Australia with the “Last of the Nomads,” requires that one be willing to learn as little children, and not to pass by smugly or snigger at another’s “way.” ‘Right’ learning brings with it the ability to begin to discern, then to discriminate, which then opens a way forward for us, like steps across a stream. We trust, we learn, and as we do so we are perhaps reinforced in our growing ability to make good choices. Then, don’t just knock, go in!

The rest becomes part of your story.