Valley of Search

This is a story that I wrote last year. It is one of the stories that follow the theme of the Seven Valleys. I remember my American Grandfather telling me that I had a little brother (I was 18 months when he was born). Other than that I do not remember much of him as he passed away before I was five years old. My Persian Grandfather never met me. I was to be named Shahab at first, he objected. His neighbors were the Fatazams and the name of the father of the family was Shahab. He said that he would be seeing his neighber each time he thougth of me. They settled on Shiidon, which happend to be the son, Shidan Fatazam. My father liked it as well as his name is Don and in someway it would be a carrying on the name of Don which was his fathers name as well. In a nutshell, this is not a story of me and my grandfathers. I hope you enjoy it.

Valley of Search

There was a time when one would look upon an elder without the respect that is due their long and illustrious life. Those were the days of turmoil and trouble, the days of the Formative Age of this New Day. As i look back upon the influence that others have had in my life, my grandfather is first and foremost behind those of my mother and father. i recall another precious moment that I had with him, when he was resting after a day filled with much activity. i had just returned from school and was perplexed on the new subject that we were embarking on.
My grandfather was sitting on the divan, near the window and watching the humming birds floating to the feeder and flying away across the creek. He seemed to be at peace and deep in thought. On his lap sat a thick and worn book. My grandfather was apt to carry a book with him wherever he went. Whenever there was a time of rest he could be seen either conversing with others or reading his book in some corner. The books, i must say, never interfered with his interactions with others. He never placed an object ahead of another. Such was the case on that day when i respectfully approached him and asked him one of the many questions i would ask him in our lives together.

“Grandfather, we are about to study a subject that i don’t quite understand.”
He turned and smiled as he recognized my face and, looking deep into my eyes, he responded:

“What would that subject be?”

My grandfather knew that my questions were usually not about math or science nor on other earthly subjects. My questions were more of the spirit. This was one of them.

“In school we are studying the Seven Valleys. The Valley we are to study next is the Valley of Search.”

He patiently waited as i continued. “i do not understand why there is a valley called search?”
i watched as he meditated on my question. He never rushed to answer and i always waited patiently for the wisdom of his years to come into play.

“What does search mean to you my child?” He asked.
He was always prone to ask me questions as the method of coming to the answer to my questions.

“Searching is to look something up or to find something.” i answered.

“If i asked you to find something in your room, what would you do in response?” He asked me.

“i would go to my room and look for it until i had found it.” i answered quickly. His pausing and my rushing to answer was a reflection of our ages.

“You would find something that you had placed for yourself and may or may not know immediately where it is.” He paused. “What if i asked you to find an object that i had placed in the garden,” which he indicated with his hand.

“Why i would search for it,” was my immediate reply, being so proud to use this word of topic. i saw him smile and realized that there was more to his question than i had given thought to. “But it would not be as easy, “ was my tentative reply, “because it is something that you had placed there and not i.”

He sat back for a moment and our eyes met, those glorious and aged orbs of wisdom that I cherished so much.

“You are beginning to see,” he responded, “that there is more depth to this word search than you first thought.”

I reflected on this and then ventured a question. “What is there beyond this looking for things?”
He stood up, reached for my hand and then led me to the door. We walked outside and looked at the trees, the creek and the birds and other creatures enjoying their day.

“This land we are in was once unknown,” he stated as his arm swept over the gardens and forest behind our house. “ It was on a journey, a long time ago, when this land was discovered. It was not the end of the journey or search but a part of it. Whether or not the end of the goal was reached, the knowledge and discovery of that search was great.”

He waited to make sure i was paying attention. “To search is to look and to look is to find, however, what we end up finding is not always the object that we are looking for. It is the result of the search that we are embarking on that ends up bearing fruit.”

“Grandfather,” i asked. “When i can’t find something i am looking for i am not happy.”
He sat in the grass and, facing the creek seemed to be deep in thought. He reminded me at that time of the creek itself. He was always there when i needed him and he was always giving when i needed it. i sat down beside him and waited while listening to the beautiful birds.

He turned to me and started speaking in a very purposeful voice. “Little one,” he asked. “What was one of the first things you learned in school about God?”

Seeing the seriousness of his tone i took a moment to reply. i thought about what we were talking about and his question. “To know and to Love God?” I answered hesitantly.

“What do we know about knowing God?” he responded to me smiling.

“That we can never know God,” was my immediate reply.
Then the realization started to come to me. We are on a journey, a search for something that we will never find. Our lives are lived going through a process and we grow and learn from it. My grandfather saw the look of understanding on my face and smiled one of those warm and embracing smiles that i can still picture in my mind.

“Grandfather,” i said. “You know so much!”

He smiled and replied. “Dear one, i truly know nothing.” He paused and then continued. “We go through life learning many things, patience being one of them. What we learn as the years grow on is that the more we learn the less we realize that we know.”

“We are at the beginning of a glorious journey to know and love God, this life is the foundation for our journey, “ he finally answered.

This man i loved so much, this blessed soul. i could not resist any longer and leaped into his arms, nearly knocking him over. i knew at that time that one day he would not be on this earth, but i also felt that he would always be with me. To this day, i reflect on the many conversations we have had and on many occasions i can still hear his voice imparting his wisdom upon me. The tears upon my cheeks now are as real as those on that dear morning on the grass on that spring day.

Shiidon, March 25, 2007

Broken Wall

In my work I am able to meet many people and hear many stories. For example, when I ask "how are you doing?" I am truly asking, and if they respond by saying "not well," I take the time to ask why and engage them in conversation. I have learned much from them and hopefully they have gained something back from our experience. This last week was Valentines Day and many of those stories revolved around friendships and love. One of these people drove from California and in an odd turn of events ended up in the shop. He and I spoke for some time about life. At some point I will write a bit about the odd turn of events that brought him to our shop. For now, this poem came to me and I have written it down.

Before I get to the poem I just wanted to say one thing I touched upon on a previous post. I have just finished grading papers and assignments for an English class in Iran in preperation for next term when I will have a class of my own to work with. It was so rewarding and enriching. I am excited about it and look forward to helping those who are not being allowed to attend school in a conventional way.

Broken Wall

The wall builds up from year to year
It protects and shelters one from tears
The world eventually divided in two
Separating me from you

A wall keeps pain out
But with a chill
We realize that this same wall
Is our prison cell


That same cell, a comfort becomes
Not wanting to leave
To find reprieve
From isolation,
Waxing year by year
Increasing our fear
Of trusting, letting go

Tear down that wall
Stone by stone
You are not alone
Hear my call
This world of dust
Is not long for us

There is a world out there to see
Before we are finally free
And hand in hand
We can be
One

-Shiidon, February 2008

Climbing Through Life

The previous story was written some time ago. Today another story came to my mind. While "The Climber" tells how we need each other in life and what it means to be there for someone and to have them for you, I thought about a similar story on climbing a mountain and how that can represent life. This is a "sister" story to the previous post but different in the message that it has.

Climbing Through Life

The climber was approaching the midpoint to the summit. He was breathing heavily but steady and was spending much of his time moving from one side to another to avoid the obstacles in the path that he was treading. There was no doubt that he would reach the goal of the summit but by what path was not determined. Sweat came easily with the exertion but it was a rewarding sweat of accomplishment. Step by careful step he approached the midway point and a time to rest before resuming the arduous journey ever upward.

Eventually first one then the other foot struck the ledge upon which he would rest. He carefully sat down and pulled out his water to rehydrate himself. He looked up and could see the climb to come but it was shrouded in a mist that allowed for some mystery as to what path he would tread. As his breathing dropped to a restful level he began to take his attention off of the needs his body was signaling and took a look around.

As far as the eye could see were mountains and valleys. Towns, villages and isolated homes could be spied from this height. The forests that were as of yet unclaimed formed a buffer between those clumps of manmade structures and swept up to the mountains slowly giving away at the alpine level to the last hardy trees and plants that reach up to the summit, never to reach it. The beauty of the expanses open before him were breathtaking, the true perspective of how small we are as people when compared to nature itself evident. We live our lives, he thought, day in and day out without thinking of this perspective. When the thought comes to us we look up but see the mountains as a beautiful place and not so much our place or the perspective now evident before him. The breeze, unrestrained by obstacles, was steady and refreshing. His spirits were lifted. His attention turned to the path he had tread.

The beginning of the trail was a mere thread of memory but not very visible from this height. There, before him, was the path he had tread and the many obstacles that he had to overcome to get to this point. He reflected on how challenging the pathway up had been and how insurmountable the path seemed at times. From this perspective however, those same challenges seemed so insignificant and in some ways meaningless. A meaningful smile came to his lips as he then laughed out loud at his new found understanding. With a joyful and light heart he found himself rested and his mind and body refreshed. He looked up on the path yet to come and the seemingly impossible obstacles visible to him. With his new found understanding he put his pack back on, and with a light step headed up the mountain again. He knew that this second half would, in many ways, be more challenging and taxing than the first half, but with his newfound knowledge he was sure he would do just fine, step by careful step.

-Shiidon, February 2008

The Climber

Last year I was having dinner with a friend when they told me how they did not intend to burden me with some trouble they were having. This very friend had only helped me the other day with another problem. After a few moments of thought I wrote this story and sent it to that person.

Before sharing all things on this blog it was not uncommon for me to send out the story or poem as an attachment to my email. The method of sending out an email notice allows those who are interested to read and those who are not to just "delete" the email.

One of these persons wrote me back and told me that this story described marriage to them. The story was written for friendship. This was the beginning of my understanding that the work takes on its own life and means different things to different people, including the author. I had known this with stories and other writing that I have read, however, I was learning at that time that my own writing takes on that quality at times. The more that I write the more it is clear to me that these are not my words as much as they are all of our words and that I just happen to capture them at the time that I do. If you read them and it strikes at some point then they have become your words too.


The Climber

The ascent to the peak was growing increasingly difficult. The climber rested for a moment. He looked up at the daunting remainder of the climb and thought about the obstacles that would have to be overcome to reach the summit. Looking down he spotted the starting point of the journey and was surprised at how much ground was covered. He reflected on the thought at first that he could make the journey on his own and how foolish that seemed now. He took a swig of water and prepared himself for obstacle in his path. He, with much effort made it past the obstacle and then turned to face his companion. He reached out with his gloved hand and stretched towards the extended hand of the person behind. She had to strain to reach his outstretched hand. With much effort she was able to reach and clasp his hand. He gripped the hand with gentle force and was able to pull her up. She reached his side and they both rested yet again to prepare themselves for the next great challenge.

While waiting he reflected on the challenges that life had thrown at him recently. His thoughts were drawn towards how to resolve those challenges and what needed to be done when he was done with the climb. Having rested enough his companion took the lead to overcome the next obstacle. He watched as she navigated with great care and concentration through this most direct challenge. He could see the sweat on her brow reaching the barrier of the headband, a mirror of the dampness of his sweat soaked headband. Eventually the obstacle was beaten and it was her turn to reach out to him. He took the necessary steps to reach her proximity and prepared to be helped up.

He reached out to her hand and stretched with some effort. She grabbed his hand and with prepared leverage was able to pull him up. As he was being pulled up, at that moment of balance, the point of going up or falling far down below, clarity of thought came and brought him to a new point of understanding. With awe, he realized that, in this situation he was relying on the help of the friend to overcome this most recent obstacle. The summit could not be reached without her. She in turn needed him to reach the summit. Life’s challenges are not always assailable without the help of a friend. Prayer, meditation and effort are all required on our part, but for many of our challenges, the help of a friend takes us through to the next level. Whether we pray for someone, pray together, or just have lunch and a hearing ear; we are all here for each other to lend a hand across the obstacles we face in life.

He reached his companions side, and looked at her with a profound new sense of understanding. We are never alone.

shiidon, April 18, 2007

Completeness

A poem came to mind while meditating today. For some reason I saw myself in the midst of bubbles of people, all at various stages of life. In observing the events of life that surround us we can choose to look at them in differing ways. One could be happy, jealous, sad, depressed or indifferent. I find myself smiling more and more as I think of these events as they happen to those around me. The words "good for you" come out of my mouth (though no one is here to hear them). I will say from time to time " you deserve this joy." Well, how do I explain that? I use poetry. I was thinking about the process of my writing and came up with the following. A though or experience or event come to mind. A picture then appears and in some way it is striving to come out. For some it is in music and others things such as film making, or that very special visual art of the painting. For me it is in verse. Here is the poem that came to mind today.

Completeness

Surrounding me i see
Many a person in harmony
One finding another
A new place in life or another
Seemingly fulfilling destiny

Once i thought with heart attached
Why not me on that path
With heavy heart did i dwell
And with loneliness did it swell

One day things changed
My life rearranged
Nothing changed except within
A new perspective did settle in
With joyful heart did i regard
The many changes in those around
Whose lives come together
And bounties abound
No longer of self do i think
From the cup of joy, for others
do i drink

What joy can be derived
While others are broken,
alone or deprived
now waiting and hoping
for each to find
that place in life where they are complete
and surrounding all is found replete
with happiness and joy in this day
each finding completion in their own way
and as i reflect in this regard
a smile begins to hold its sway

-shiidon, February 2008

A Pause for Thoughts

My writing style is undergoing somewhat of a change. For almost two years i have been writing and using the small letter "i" in place of the correct "I." What inspired this was the comment attributed to 'Abdu'l-Bahá that in the future the word "I." would not be used as it is today. This struck a true nerve in me and i went about changing the way i spelled it and reduced as much as possible the use of it. This has all changed now.

I have edited this section if you read it before it is different.
I was contacted recently by a friend who is teaching English in China. He put me in touch with some people who are involved with teaching English to Bahá'í students in Iran. The government of Iran, and indeed for the entire history of our Faith in Iran, has been persecuting the believers. In the most recent incarnation of government it is impossible for students to go to school, retired people to draw a pension or any number of other things we take for granted in the United States and indeed most of the rest of the World. I will begin tutoring English in April for students in Iran. I will also be Conversation Facilitator. In light of this I realized that I needed to start retraining myself when it comes to the article "I." It would not sit well for one who is teaching to be making such a blatant error.

While the changes are already happening to my writing, I still intend to use the letter "i" in my poetry.
May this world become one and we all treat each other as brothers and sisters in this most great day.

The Valley of Unity

For those who regularly follow this blog it may be noticeable that i have begun to post some of my previously written poems and stories. There have been numerous requests to be "published" etc. What i thought was to put the stories here so that you, the reader, could enjoy, skip over or ignore them depending on what you think of the quality. The theme of a good number of children's stories that i have written are inspired by the Seven Valleys written by Bahá'u'lláh. It is these seven valleys that our soul travels through in this life. My thought was to write stories for children that were inspired by the Seven Valleys. This one I wrote while still living in China.

The following quote comes to mind when i think of this story.

Upon the inmost reality of each and every created thing He hath shed the light of one of His names, and made it a recipient of the glory of one of His attributes. Upon the reality of man, however, He hath focused the radiance of all of His names and attributes, and made it a mirror of His own Self. Alone of all created things man hath been singled out for so great a favor, so enduring a bounty. (Bahá'u'lláh, Gleanings from the Writings of Báha'u'lláh, p. 65)

The Valley of Unity

Under a tree in a land far away a little boy named Ling was playing in the garden and was watching the ants gathering food and taking them home to their anthill. He picked up a stone and dropped it across their path. This not only disturbed the ants but it also kept them from their food.

It so happened that Lings’ teacher saw him doing this and went to talk to him.

“Little one” said the teacher.

“Yes teacher” said Ling

“I see you have been observing the ants.” Stated Ling’s teacher.

“Yes I have” replied Ling.

“What are the ants doing?” asked the teacher.

“They are gathering food,” said Ling.

“Did you know that they are doing more than just gathering food?” asked the teacher.

Ling was very curious because he could not see anything that would be different than gathering food. “No,” he replied.

“The food they gather,” said the teacher, “helps clear the garden of things that we do not need. In clearing the garden they help us. If they did not clear the garden it would be harder to keep and the vegetables would be harder to grow. Everything has a purpose. The ants are here to help us and the other creatures.”

Ling listened very carefully to his teacher. His teacher continued. “Put yourself in the place of the ant. He works all day gathering food for his family. He is unaware that he is also helping the plant, animals and us in doing so. Like the ant the same can be said for the other insects and animals. If you look at the bird, she eats the insects and keeps them from becoming too many. The bird eats and at the same time she helps. The same can be said for the fox in the woods that eats the mouse and keeps there from being too many mice. At the same time the mouse does his job. Each one of these creatures does a service for all of us and themselves.”

“Does every animal have a purpose?” asked Ling.

“Yes,” said the teacher, “we can’t understand the purpose of every creature but we can look at what we do know. Look at those trees”

Ling looked and saw the apricot trees growing.

“The trees provide shelter for us, and fruit to eat.” “Look around” he said, “everything in the World has a purpose.”

Ling was deep in thought as his teacher watched him. He thought about the ants, the trees and the birds. He then thought about the oceans and the fish in them. He thought about all of this and realized that we are all pieces of a big puzzle. He looked down at the ants again. He started to see each of the ants in a different way. He carefully picked up the stone and gently placed it out of the way of the ants.

The teacher smiled at Ling, turned around and walked away.

Cycle of Life

Ok, so today has been quite inspirational for me. i was not able to go out and take part in some activities today as the Cedar Pollen is still quite high. I cooked for at first 8 boys, then it became 11 though one dropped off and it now stands at 10. This all in a 1,250 square foot house. Mind you, i am in my room reading and writing etc. I was reflecting on life and the stages we go through from infant to that honored place of being older. This poem came to mind and poured out of the keyboard onto paper.

Cycle of Life

In the dawn of life as we enter this world
We begin to prepare for a new life untold
Growing and building knowledge upon knowledge
The center of the world we are so much
Pain and suffering not so touched

In the mid day sun of life we stand
Looking around the world so grand
Friends and family abound
Of which we work so much to surround
Branded by tests
We know no rest
With vigor and life we strive
To keep our life robust and alive
The birth so long ago
The end nearer but life still slow

In the eve of life we sit, reflect
On the thoughts of living do we direct
Reaching to the end so near
The end of a life so dear
With joy we search and see our past
A life full of hills to climb and rivers to swim
Those tests once so hard to take
Are the ashes left behind in our wake
We look towards a new birth anon
When others will see us gone
But in reality born anew
To an eternity and life new
With one great joy as we look ahead
All of our loved ones together again
Forever

-Shiidon, February 2008

On the Fields of Life

I have just finished reading the last of the books I have from Adíb Taherzadeh, The Covenant. It has been a long journey reading first the Revelation of Bahá'u'lláh (four volumes), the Child of the Covenant and finally The Covenant. I am now reading the memoirs of Dr. Yunis Khan. After finishing my book and reflecting on friends and the tests that we sometimes face, this poem came to mind.

On the Fields of Life

Reflecting on the troubles of life
The tests and difficulties
The pain and strife
i wonder for what these tests do come
Knowing for a truth
What i have become
Is a result
of those travails

Looking and reflecting within
Regret not i, these years gone by
My soul growing stronger
more refined

Seeing others who have suffered, so
Wanting to help and soften the blow
To what extent will i go
To ease the pain of which i know
When it is the enduring of these pains
That strengthens our souls

So i watch and pray, laugh and cry
As each day goes by
Knowing that i’m not alone
These tests together and alone, we endure
Towards a stronger self we can be sure

-Shiidon, February 2008