LOOKING BACK

Sufis have always been storytellers. In my thirty years on the Sufi path I have told many stories of Inayat Khan and Murshid Sam, classic tales from the Mevlevi, the Helveti -Jerrahi and many other Sufi lineages. Here I will tell some of my own tales. As I write them I am especially reminded of my many dear companions who have walked this path with me.

SEEKING PRACTICES

While living in Portland Mariam and I grew to love the Dances of Universal Peace, dancing with Hilal, in one of Portland's beautiful city parks. On returning to New York for a visit, I frequently danced with Shahabuddin at St. John the Divine's. One night one of Shahabuddin's mureeds mentioned to me that we could get initiated. This was all new to me. We went to get initiated the next day, prior to our departure for Oregon. My main recollection was that Shahabuddin was several hours late and we had to keep running downstairs to put quarters in the parking meter. Shahabuddin instructed me to seek out Moineddin for practices.

We landed in Eugene and I happened one day to see a poster advertising a Sufi Camp in Healdsburg, California. I decided to attend and hitchhiked to the camp, arriving in the middle of the night. The next day I sought out Moineddin and explained that Shahabuddin had sent me to him to get my practices. Moineddin said I should talk to him the next day. When I went to him the next day, he said he was feeling a little tired and I should talk to him after dinner. After dinner, he suggested I should talk to him the next day. This continued for several days. One day we did a meditation hike up a nearby mountain. Moin told me we would talk at the top; then at the bottom. Meanwhile I watched myself getting more and more annoyed, self-doubts bubbling to the surface. Finally as we prepared to go home, we gathered in the parking lot and Moin suggested I chose a practice from Zen Flesh Zen Bones. I did and it proved to be a profound practice.

Two other events happened at this camp which were life changing. In fact the entire camp was life changing for me. I felt like I walked in the door (actually wading across a river at 4 AM) one person and walked out a transformed person. Early in the camp I was in class with Allaudin Mathieu, trying to sing sargam. I was very shy and embarrassed and when asked to sing in front of the group, I could not do it. Allaudin asked me how old I was. When I responded that I was 23, he looked directly at me and told me that I had wasted the first third of my life. How does one react to something like that? It's not a point you can really argue. So I sat with it. I spent the afternoon wandering about Camp Macama, taking it in. Finally I just went on with camp. Years later when we hosted Allaudin for a workshop in Eugene, I asked him about it. He seemed genuinely shocked and commented, "I could never have said something like that. It must have been Murshid Sam coming through." It had been said with such direct clarity. There were no rough edges. It had been like a voice of truth and I mark it as the beginning of a new life.

During the camp, I learned to play music for the Dances from Shabda and (unlike today) I could do a Dance once or twice and remember the movements, the tune and how to play it. Before camp ended I asked Moineddin if I could go back to Eugene and start leading a Dance circle. He asked. "Do you know how?" When I assured him that I did, he gave me his blessing. Returning to Eugene, we started a dance circle in the backyard, where we danced by candlelight, advertising with signs drawn in crayon. Soon we were renting a facility and hosting dance meetings with 75-100 people.

INTEGRATION

On the way home from Camp Macama, I learned that the world is not Sufi Camp. I was ecstatic, walking on air. Wearing my white pants and a flowing white Indian shirt, I decided to get something to eat at a convenience store. As I walked in the store, the owner started yelling at me, "Get out of here. You can't come in here with your pajamas on." Welcome to the material world.


NEW NAMES

Like many Sufi initiates, I wanted a new name. I went for an interview with Pir Vilayat at one of his camps to ask for a spiritual name. He asked me what my name was. I replied that my name was Daniel. He replied, "That's a very fine name." End of interview.

Moineddin actually gave me my name over the phone. He called up one evening and immediately started the Invocation and gave me my current name. This took about thirty seconds. He also did a brief ceremony and asked me to give a new name to another of his mureeds, Julian. Not being particularly familiar with Sufi names, I misunderstood the name over the phone, and proceeded to give Julian, with great ceremony, the name Banishmand. About a week later I got another call from Moineddin, explaining that it was not Banishmand, but Danishamnd, like Danish. So Julian got two names in one week.


Years ago, Usman and I were presenters at a Unity in Diversity conference in Ashland, Oregon. The organizers had tried to get Pir Vilayat but he was not available. We assured them that we could handle it. Basically this was a group of male gurus, swamis, and other luminaries who all wanted to hold center stage all of the time. There was probably about the same amount of Unity at this conference as you might find at your local Wal Mart. There was a tendency for experts to stand up on the stage and talk at people. Usman and I decided it was time to change that, so we invited the entire audience to get out of their seats and join us at the front of the church. Here we get everyone singing rounds and dancing. When things really started cooking one of the other presenters decided that we were having way too much fun and turned off the lights and sound system. Anyway this story is about new names. An actual highlight of the conference was a sort of Universal Worship. Usman and I sat next to a delightful Tibetan rinpoche. He spent a good part of the service tickling Usman under the chin. When the service was over, the rinpoche, who stood about six foot six, picked me up and swung me around five or six times. He then announced slowly, "My name is Jose. I give you the spiritual name Bozo" It was the highlight of the weekend.