Ramadan, For Beginners
What business does a Christian girl from the Canadian prairies have attempting to observe Ramadan, the Islamic month of fasting? Probably none. And yet, here I am in New Zealand, doing just that. From an hour or so before the sun rises to sometime shortly after sundown, for the next 28 days (give or take a few days for travel and menstruation, both of which temporarily exempt me from fasting), I will not be eating or drinking anything. Not even water.
In light of the fact that Ramadan is not only (or even mostly) about deprivation, while I'm at it I'm going to try to be more mindful of other people, and of God, and of myself. Decreased food consumption, increased mindfulness - a kind of package deal. There are myriad lessons that abstaining from food (and other things!) during the month is supposed to teach a person - not the least of which is patience, something which I surely could (always!) use a refresher on. Ditto perseverance. It's supposed to help clear your mind (what PhD student doesn't need that?!), give you greater empathy for the poor (hunger and thirst suck, so let's help those who don't get to change that condition once the sun sets), erase divisions (everyone, regardless of social status, gender, or nationality observes the fast together), and promote sincerity (no one can really tell if you're following your fast or not, so it's all up to you). It's also an acknowledgement of the gifts of Allah in the world, and regardless of whether or not you are a particular believer, it seems to me a good idea to stop every now and again and really be thankful for how bountiful the world we live in is.
To be clear, I'm not converting to Islam (not that there would be anything wrong with that if I did). I prefer to think of it as an experiment in self-control and empathy, as well as a chance to share, even superficially, a faith experience of a significant portion of the world's population. This is not wholly unlike the two weeks I spent in silence at a Buddhist meditation retreat in Thailand a few years ago. Different deprivations, similar aims. I wish I could say that I went to that retreat out of a pure and sincere devotion to spiritual development, but actually I went because a friend bet me that I couldn't keep my mouth shut for so long (he was wrong). Similarly, I wish I could say that I am embarking on this journey with a pure and sincere devotion to spiritual development, but really it's as much curiosity as anything. I'm curious about this foundational experience that so many people around the world share, and also curious about whether or not I can actually get through a whole month without eating or drinking (two things which are very dear to my heart, especially here in hyper-social Dunedin) during daylight hours. Also, to be perfectly honest, I'm a practical sort of person and figured that if I'm ever going to have a serious go at observing an entire month of fasting, it ought to be here in the middle of a New Zealand winter when the temperature throughout the relatively short daylight hours is neither too hot nor too cold. If there were ever going to be ideal conditions for an experiment such as this, these are them.
Now, disclaimer aside, I do think that more will come of this month than the satisfaction of my curiosity. Though I hated pretty much every single minute of my 2-weeks of silence, and swore that I would never do anything so ridiculous (for me - understand that I am not calling the practice itself ridiculous...) again, it turns out in the end that I actually learned an awful lot at that retreat. Things that I still practice, or think about, today. There is no question in my mind now that I actually learned some important lessons sitting there under the palm trees with the monks, such that I look back on the whole experience almost fondly and have even considered going back. I could not have imagined, even in the middle of that experience, what would come of what I learned. Likewise, I have no idea what will come of what I undertake this month. But I firmly believe that when people step out in faith (even in misguided or selfish faith), we do not step out alone. God (whatever god you conceive) meets us. The world meets us. We meet our (better) selves.
And now, with the sun just beginning to dip below the hills that ring my horizon, it is time to start thinking about breaking my fast for the (second) day. One of the best aspects of Ramadan, in my estimation, is the social one of families and friends coming together at the end of the day, to eat together and share in their gratitude and abundance. Not knowing how my (very dear) Muslim friends here would take to someone like me essentially tagging along for the ride during their holiest month, I haven't told anyone what I'm doing. Which makes the whole breaking fast thing somewhat anti-climatic. Instead, I'm telling you. And hoping that whoever you may be, fasting or not, you will take a moment to join with me in gratitude and celebration for the abundance that is the world that we live in. Let's eat!
In light of the fact that Ramadan is not only (or even mostly) about deprivation, while I'm at it I'm going to try to be more mindful of other people, and of God, and of myself. Decreased food consumption, increased mindfulness - a kind of package deal. There are myriad lessons that abstaining from food (and other things!) during the month is supposed to teach a person - not the least of which is patience, something which I surely could (always!) use a refresher on. Ditto perseverance. It's supposed to help clear your mind (what PhD student doesn't need that?!), give you greater empathy for the poor (hunger and thirst suck, so let's help those who don't get to change that condition once the sun sets), erase divisions (everyone, regardless of social status, gender, or nationality observes the fast together), and promote sincerity (no one can really tell if you're following your fast or not, so it's all up to you). It's also an acknowledgement of the gifts of Allah in the world, and regardless of whether or not you are a particular believer, it seems to me a good idea to stop every now and again and really be thankful for how bountiful the world we live in is.
To be clear, I'm not converting to Islam (not that there would be anything wrong with that if I did). I prefer to think of it as an experiment in self-control and empathy, as well as a chance to share, even superficially, a faith experience of a significant portion of the world's population. This is not wholly unlike the two weeks I spent in silence at a Buddhist meditation retreat in Thailand a few years ago. Different deprivations, similar aims. I wish I could say that I went to that retreat out of a pure and sincere devotion to spiritual development, but actually I went because a friend bet me that I couldn't keep my mouth shut for so long (he was wrong). Similarly, I wish I could say that I am embarking on this journey with a pure and sincere devotion to spiritual development, but really it's as much curiosity as anything. I'm curious about this foundational experience that so many people around the world share, and also curious about whether or not I can actually get through a whole month without eating or drinking (two things which are very dear to my heart, especially here in hyper-social Dunedin) during daylight hours. Also, to be perfectly honest, I'm a practical sort of person and figured that if I'm ever going to have a serious go at observing an entire month of fasting, it ought to be here in the middle of a New Zealand winter when the temperature throughout the relatively short daylight hours is neither too hot nor too cold. If there were ever going to be ideal conditions for an experiment such as this, these are them.
Now, disclaimer aside, I do think that more will come of this month than the satisfaction of my curiosity. Though I hated pretty much every single minute of my 2-weeks of silence, and swore that I would never do anything so ridiculous (for me - understand that I am not calling the practice itself ridiculous...) again, it turns out in the end that I actually learned an awful lot at that retreat. Things that I still practice, or think about, today. There is no question in my mind now that I actually learned some important lessons sitting there under the palm trees with the monks, such that I look back on the whole experience almost fondly and have even considered going back. I could not have imagined, even in the middle of that experience, what would come of what I learned. Likewise, I have no idea what will come of what I undertake this month. But I firmly believe that when people step out in faith (even in misguided or selfish faith), we do not step out alone. God (whatever god you conceive) meets us. The world meets us. We meet our (better) selves.
And now, with the sun just beginning to dip below the hills that ring my horizon, it is time to start thinking about breaking my fast for the (second) day. One of the best aspects of Ramadan, in my estimation, is the social one of families and friends coming together at the end of the day, to eat together and share in their gratitude and abundance. Not knowing how my (very dear) Muslim friends here would take to someone like me essentially tagging along for the ride during their holiest month, I haven't told anyone what I'm doing. Which makes the whole breaking fast thing somewhat anti-climatic. Instead, I'm telling you. And hoping that whoever you may be, fasting or not, you will take a moment to join with me in gratitude and celebration for the abundance that is the world that we live in. Let's eat!
posted by Roberta | 12:16 PM
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