Psicología

Centro MENADEL PSICOLOGÍA Clínica y Tradicional

Psicoterapia Clínica cognitivo-conductual (una revisión vital, herramientas para el cambio y ayuda en la toma de consciencia de los mecanismos de nuestro ego) y Tradicional (una aproximación a la Espiritualidad desde una concepción de la psicología que contempla al ser humano en su visión ternaria Tradicional: cuerpo, alma y Espíritu).

“La psicología tradicional y sagrada da por establecido que la vida es un medio hacia un fin más allá de sí misma, no que haya de ser vivida a toda costa. La psicología tradicional no se basa en la observación; es una ciencia de la experiencia subjetiva. Su verdad no es del tipo susceptible de demostración estadística; es una verdad que solo puede ser verificada por el contemplativo experto. En otras palabras, su verdad solo puede ser verificada por aquellos que adoptan el procedimiento prescrito por sus proponedores, y que se llama una ‘Vía’.” (Ananda K Coomaraswamy)

La Psicoterapia es un proceso de superación que, a través de la observación, análisis, control y transformación del pensamiento y modificación de hábitos de conducta te ayudará a vencer:

Depresión / Melancolía
Neurosis - Estrés
Ansiedad / Angustia
Miedos / Fobias
Adicciones / Dependencias (Drogas, Juego, Sexo...)
Obsesiones Problemas Familiares y de Pareja e Hijos
Trastornos de Personalidad...

La Psicología no trata únicamente patologías. ¿Qué sentido tiene mi vida?: el Autoconocimiento, el desarrollo interior es una necesidad de interés creciente en una sociedad de prisas, consumo compulsivo, incertidumbre, soledad y vacío. Conocerte a Ti mismo como clave para encontrar la verdadera felicidad.

Estudio de las estructuras subyacentes de Personalidad
Técnicas de Relajación
Visualización Creativa
Concentración
Cambio de Hábitos
Desbloqueo Emocional
Exploración de la Consciencia

Desde la Psicología Cognitivo-Conductual hasta la Psicología Tradicional, adaptándonos a la naturaleza, necesidades y condiciones de nuestros pacientes desde 1992.

martes, 6 de octubre de 2026

Calcuta: el sufrimiento y el arte de no apartar la mirada

<h4>Hay viajes que nos llevan simplemente de un lugar a otro. Otros remueven algo más profundo y desestabilizan silenciosamente lo que creíamos entender sobre la realidad. Llegué a Calcuta (Kolkata en la actualidad) cargando el equipaje invisible de siempre: suposiciones sobre la pobreza y la felicidad, el sufrimiento y la fe, y sobre el tipo de persona que imaginaba ser. Para cuando dejé Bodhgaya, donde se dice que Buda alcanzó la iluminación bajo el árbol Bodhi, muchas de esas suposiciones ya se habían desmoronado.</h4> Calcuta era conocida por gran parte del mundo por las razones equivocadas: pobreza, hacinamiento, miseria. La ciudad de la alegría de Dominique Lapierre, más tarde llevada al cine por Roland Joffé, recibió una acogida hostil por parte de la población local: miles de dólares gastados en construir un barrio de chabolas ficticio en una ciudad que ya tenía más que suficientes de los reales. Ese contraste —un hotel de lujo donde se alojaba el equipo de rodaje, familias sin hogar durmiendo en la calle frente a sus puertas— no es exclusivo de la India. Si abrimos los ojos y el corazón, encontramos sufrimiento en todas partes, y no menos dentro de nosotros mismos. Y, sin embargo, Calcuta también devuelve algo a quienes llegan dispuestos a recibirlo. “Calcuta es como otro mundo. La gente allí es muy especial y agradecida,” dijo en una ocasión la actriz Penélope Cruz sobre su propia estancia en la ciudad. Es un comentario breve, pero apunta a algo que el budismo sitúa en su centro: que la compasión no es la lástima que mira desde la distancia, sino que se funda en la gratitud, la empatía y la bondad amorosa —cualidades que, paradójicamente, parecían más visibles entre quienes menos tenían. No me había propuesto encontrar una respuesta al sufrimiento, pero la India me confrontó con su misterio de todos modos. Allí, el sufrimiento se resiste a la abstracción; incomoda incluso a quienes preferirían no verlo. Cada mañana, a las siete, viajando con las Hermanas y otros voluntarios hacia Kalighat —el Hogar para Moribundos de la Madre Teresa—, las propias calles encarnaban esa verdad: la gente emergía del polvo, se lavaba bajo las bombas de agua y se preparaba para afrontar otro día. Habiendo trabajado antes en un albergue nocturno para personas sin hogar en Londres, al principio encontré algo extrañamente familiar en la atmósfera de Kalighat. Pero el parecido se rompió casi de inmediato. Por desesperadas que fueran las circunstancias de alguien en Londres, solía quedar la posibilidad de un nuevo comienzo. En Kalighat, para casi todos, la muerte era el único destino. <blockquote>Hay algo inquietante en la compasión, porque se niega a mantener la distancia. La lástima, la simpatía, incluso la empatía, pueden sentirse desde un lugar seguro. La compasión no. Se mueve hacia el sufrimiento e intenta, por inadecuada que sea, aliviarlo.</blockquote> <div style="width:530px;"><img src="https://elhombreylodivino.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/10/PHOTO-2026-09-22-23-22-19_2.jpg" alt="" width="520" height="745">En el centro budista donde me alojé, el Camino Medio no resultó, al principio, especialmente moderado.</div> Me puse un delantal, sin saber muy bien qué se esperaba de mí, y comencé a secar y vestir a los recién llegados después de que los hubieran lavado y mientras esperaban ser examinados. Algunos estaban tan débiles, con las extremidades tan retorcidas por la enfermedad, que levantarlos parecía que podía quebrarles los huesos. Un hombre joven tenía quemaduras terribles; nada podía aliviar el dolor de sus heridas abiertas. La respuesta de la Madre Teresa al sufrimiento no era principalmente intelectual, ni, como a menudo se le criticó, principalmente médica. Era, aprendí, más simple y difícil que cualquiera de las dos cosas; lavabas a alguien; alimentabas a alguien; cambiabas una cama; tocabas a la persona a la que el mundo había dejado de tocar. Más tarde le di un masaje en la espalda a un anciano. No compartíamos idioma, y no parecía haber nada digno de decirse, quizás nada que necesitara decirse. Como escribí después, el tacto era la única forma de comunicarnos. Al año siguiente me formé como masajista —aquella había sido, aunque entonces no lo supiera, mi primera experiencia práctica de terapia manual. Hay algo inquietante en la compasión, porque se niega a mantener la distancia. La lástima, la simpatía, incluso la empatía, pueden sentirse desde un lugar seguro. La compasión no. Se mueve hacia el sufrimiento e intenta, por inadecuada que sea, aliviarlo. En el orfanato de la Madre Teresa en Bellious Road me encontré con el sufrimiento con otro rostro. Entramos en un patio lleno de niños jugando, que nos recibieron con una emoción sin reservas, casi arrojándose sobre nosotros mientras los lavábamos con jabón. Querían que los abrazaran, los llevaran en brazos, los balancearan, que los vieran. Escribí entonces: Todo aquello me llenó de vida y alegría. Las miradas indescriptibles de amor —de quienes tienen tan poco pero dan tanto, y yo solo puedo dar un poco de tiempo. Existe el peligro de romantizar la pobreza; no hay nada inherentemente bello en la privación. Y sin embargo, estos niños me revelaron algo importante. El sufrimiento no siempre se anuncia a través del dolor visible. Un niño puede reír y jugar mientras carga con la ausencia de sus padres, de un hogar, de seguridad, de las expectativas ordinarias de la infancia. Muchos de esos niños afrontaban esa ausencia con una resiliencia y una esperanza que me conmovieron profundamente. <blockquote>Mientras la Madre Teresa se enfrentaba al sufrimiento a través del cuerpo y de la fe, Buda lo abordó a través de la propia conciencia.</blockquote> Quizás el sufrimiento sea a la vez universal y relativo: pertenece a la condición humana, pero adopta su forma según las circunstancias, el tiempo y el lugar. Desde Calcuta viajé hasta Bodhgaya, donde encontraría el sufrimiento en una forma completamente distinta —dentro de la mente de un cuerpo sano y de un viajero relativamente privilegiado. El moribundo, el niño huérfano y la mente atormentada habitan mundos diferentes, y sin embargo cada uno revela la misma vulnerabilidad subyacente. Después de Calcuta, Bodhgaya parecía otro planeta: un paisaje ajeno dominado por templos y monasterios construidos por comunidades budistas de todo el mundo. Llegué en el frío amanecer al lugar donde, más de dos mil años antes, Siddhartha Gautama se había sentado bajo un árbol dispuesto a afrontar el sufrimiento desde dentro. Mientras la Madre Teresa se enfrentaba al sufrimiento a través del cuerpo y de la fe, Buda lo abordó a través de la propia conciencia. Antes de su iluminación, Siddhartha había practicado un ascetismo extremo, reduciéndose casi a la inanición que yo había visto en Kalighat —aunque no, en su caso, por circunstancia, sino por elección. La tradición cuenta cómo, cerca de la muerte, aceptó arroz con leche de manos de una joven aldeana llamada Sujata y comprendió que ni el lujo ni la mortificación de sí mismo conducían a la liberación. De ese reconocimiento nació el Camino Medio. Visité el lugar asociado a esa historia, caminando por lo que debería haber sido un río y que en cambio era una amplia extensión de arena seca, preguntándome si el Camino Medio también podría ser para mí. <blockquote>Para la Madre Teresa y quienes la rodeaban, cada persona que moría en aquellas camas era un alma amada por Dios. Lavarlo, alimentarlo, preservar su dignidad, nunca fue simplemente trabajo humanitario —su compasión nacía de la fe.</blockquote> En el centro budista donde me alojé, el Camino Medio no resultó, al principio, especialmente moderado. El día comenzaba a las 4.30 de la madrugada: meditación caminando, meditación al comer, meditación sentada, todo en silencio. El almuerzo se servía a las once; no había comida sólida después del mediodía, ni intoxicantes, ni entretenimiento. La hora de dormir era las 7.15. Las instrucciones parecían sencillas: atender a la respiración, en la práctica de vipassana. Observar cómo sube y baja. Saber que caminas cuando caminas, que comes cuando comes. Observar el pensamiento, la perturbación y el dolor, tal como surgen. La mente, por supuesto, tenía otros planes. Vagaba, incesantemente. Durante las largas sesiones sentado, me dolían las piernas y la espalda. Los recuerdos surgían con una intensidad sorprendente —conversaciones de la infancia regresaban con todo detalle. Los colores parecían inusualmente vívidos. En algunos momentos me sentía desbordado por la alegría; en otros, por el miedo. Mi sentido de identidad se aflojaba, como si me estuviera desvaneciendo, como si mi ser se disolviera dejando solo el cuerpo atrás. La mente parecía, por momentos, mi mejor amiga y mi peor enemiga. Poco a poco comencé a comprender algo de lo que apuntan las Cuatro Nobles Verdades de Buda. Existe dukkha —el sufrimiento, la insatisfacción, el malestar fundamental tejido en la existencia. Existe una causa, en el deseo y el apego. Existe la posibilidad de su cese. Y existe un camino que conduce hasta allí. Calcuta me había mostrado el sufrimiento a través de otras personas. Bodhgaya dirigió mi atención hacia su paisaje interior. Pero quedaba una pregunta difícil. Si el sufrimiento surge en parte del apego, ¿qué significa eso para el hombre que agonizaba en Kalighat? ¿Qué le ofrece la meditación a un niño abandonado? Y, sobre todo, ¿cómo afrontamos las fuentes del sufrimiento dentro de nosotros mismos? <div style="width:464px;"><img src="https://elhombreylodivino.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/10/PHOTO-2026-09-22-23-22-18.jpg" alt="" width="454" height="605">En Calcuta, la gente emergía del polvo, se lavaba bajo las bombas de agua y se preparaba para afrontar otro día.</div> El cristianismo de la Madre Teresa y el Dharma de Buda surgen de comprensiones de la realidad profundamente distintas. Uno encuentra lo sagrado amando a Dios a través de los más pobres y los más rechazados. El otro busca la liberación mediante la comprensión del sufrimiento, la impermanencia y el apego. Y, sin embargo, ambos nos piden algo notablemente parecido. Nos piden que miremos. Cuando realmente miramos, comprendemos que la compasión exige alguna forma de respuesta. Y como el sufrimiento adopta muchas formas, la compasión también debe cambiar la suya. A veces es medicina, comida o refugio. A veces es justicia. A veces es lavar a un niño, o posar una mano sobre la espalda de un anciano. Y a veces significa sentarse en silencio con la turbulencia que llevamos dentro. Por encima de todo, quizás, se sostiene en algo parecido al amor incondicional. Para la <a href="https://www.teresadecalcutafundacion.com">Madre Teresa</a> y quienes la rodeaban, cada persona que moría en aquellas camas era un alma amada por Dios. Lavarlo, alimentarlo, preservar su dignidad, nunca fue simplemente trabajo humanitario —su compasión nacía de la fe. Al cuidar de los no deseados y abandonados, creían estar, en cierto sentido, cuidando de Cristo mismo. La muerte, en esa comprensión, no era un final, sino un paso hacia los brazos de Dios. Y sin embargo, la India llevaba miles de años formulando sus propias preguntas sobre la muerte antes de que llegara el cristianismo. En el Katha Upanishad, el joven Nachiketa acude directamente a Yama, el dios de la Muerte, y le hace la pregunta que el resto de nosotros pasamos gran parte de la vida intentando evitar: ¿qué es de nosotros cuando morimos? <blockquote>El cristianismo de la Madre Teresa y el Dharma de Buda surgen de comprensiones de la realidad profundamente distintas. Uno encuentra lo sagrado amando a Dios a través de los más pobres y los más rechazados. El otro busca la liberación mediante la comprensión del sufrimiento, la impermanencia y el apego</blockquote> Yama le ofrece casi todo a cambio de que abandone la pregunta —riqueza, placer, hijos, larga vida. Nachiketa se niega; quiere saber. Lo que emerge pertenece a una comprensión de la existencia completamente distinta. El cuerpo muere, pero el ātman, el Yo más profundo, no se destruye con él. Permanecemos atrapados en saṃsāra, el ciclo de nacimiento y muerte, hasta que la liberación —moksha— llega mediante la realización de nuestra verdadera naturaleza. En Bodhgaya, Buda llegó a una conclusión radicalmente distinta. También él vio la existencia atrapada dentro de saṃsāra, pero negó la existencia de un Yo permanente que la tradición upanishádica busca realizar. No hay un ātman eterno oculto tras nuestra experiencia cambiante. Nuestro sufrimiento está ligado precisamente al deseo, al apego y a nuestra insistencia en la permanencia en un mundo donde nada se sostiene inmóvil. El nirvana, entonces, no es ni el cielo ni simplemente otra vida. Es la liberación de las mismas condiciones que perpetúan el sufrimiento y el renacimiento. Tres formas, entonces, de situarse ante la muerte. No podría decir cuál de ellas es la correcta. Sentado en <a href="https://elhombreylodivino.com/category/viajes-sagrados/">Bodhgaya</a> después de lo que había presenciado en Calcuta, no estaba en posición de saberlo. Sigo sin estarlo. Pero hay algo que sí puedo saber: que, al abrir los ojos y el corazón al sufrimiento, los abrimos también a la compasión —y es ahí, en esa apertura, donde encontramos algo que merece la pena abrazar. <a href="https://elhombreylodivino.com/calcuta-el-sufrimiento-y-el-arte-de-no-apartar-la-mirada/" target="_blank">- Enlace a artículo -</a> Más info en https://ift.tt/l1gREtK / Tfno. & WA 607725547 Centro MENADEL (Frasco Martín) Psicología Clínica y Tradicional en Mijas. #Menadel #Psicología #Clínica #Tradicional #MijasPueblo *No suscribimos necesariamente las opiniones o artículos aquí compartidos. No todo es lo que parece.

Cómo es una comida familiar en un hogar árabe

<img src="https://paginasarabes.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/10/comida_familia_arabe.jpg" alt="comida_familia_arabe.jpg">En la mesa no se come solo comida: se come pertenencia La entrada <a href="https://paginasarabes.com/2026/10/05/como-es-una-comida-familiar-en-un-hogar-arabe/">Cómo es una comida familiar en un hogar árabe</a> se publicó primero en <a href="https://paginasarabes.com">Páginas Árabes</a>. <a href="https://paginasarabes.com/2026/10/05/como-es-una-comida-familiar-en-un-hogar-arabe/" target="_blank">- Enlace a artículo -</a> Más info en https://ift.tt/l1gREtK / Tfno. & WA 607725547 Centro MENADEL (Frasco Martín) Psicología Clínica y Tradicional en Mijas. #Menadel #Psicología #Clínica #Tradicional #MijasPueblo *No suscribimos necesariamente las opiniones o artículos aquí compartidos. No todo es lo que parece.

El cubo de la Puerta de la Justicia

<div style="clear:both;text-align:center;"> </div><div style="clear:both;text-align:center;"></div><div style="clear:both;text-align:center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAcZQsaqc-LA0fCRsrqmMnxIrGdTX-xBUQ0-6Mb7wqRZYmGaGhmyW3FD5CSFzpduQbgMcOLXucipHG6U3jm7soV8J0teo9ftnS1fIlWpjzoObTU9w-pdViSsN3itEC4fRkD0JGpPmGXeeAllJWSxr8YUVOxmE5S9iXgutO9AYcJTsMtIEIyqeIWAG_Oss/s4032/IMG_3057.jpeg" style="margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;"><img height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicAcZQsaqc-LA0fCRsrqmMnxIrGdTX-xBUQ0-6Mb7wqRZYmGaGhmyW3FD5CSFzpduQbgMcOLXucipHG6U3jm7soV8J0teo9ftnS1fIlWpjzoObTU9w-pdViSsN3itEC4fRkD0JGpPmGXeeAllJWSxr8YUVOxmE5S9iXgutO9AYcJTsMtIEIyqeIWAG_Oss/w300-h400/IMG_3057.jpeg" width="300" alt="IMG_3057.jpeg"></a></div><table style="margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align:center;"></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align:center;">El cubo del siglo XVI preside una placeta que antes del siglo XX era una pendiente</td></tr></tbody></table>Hoy, al acercarnos a la Puerta de la Justicia, cuesta imaginar que el paisaje que vemos no siempre fue así. El gran aterrazamiento situado ante ella es una transformación relativamente reciente de un espacio que durante siglos tuvo una apariencia muy diferente.Adosado al muro de contención de la explanada se conserva un curioso elemento defensivo: un cubo de planta cilíndrica, provisto de troneras, construido en el siglo XVI para reforzar la defensa de los palacios de la Alhambra después de la conquista. <table style="margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align:center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdx1bHa1njgituRJVETs6ZyErLTmmvRE7QgWOw-BEXQSBEl686Ir6x4VPEBXKH5Fj-AiPAuaXuoyZegyEb1aOfy15zOjWbyu2ge5ZHcLD74RH-L7XhSuHiirnN-Ed_nvihHnMyv7nvADBjO9WBnRMN9p72rIvsncO5QmBBVh026cvCH0nv8hUp_nNpxTiK/s4032/IMG_3052.jpeg" style="margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;text-align:center;"><img height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdx1bHa1njgituRJVETs6ZyErLTmmvRE7QgWOw-BEXQSBEl686Ir6x4VPEBXKH5Fj-AiPAuaXuoyZegyEb1aOfy15zOjWbyu2ge5ZHcLD74RH-L7XhSuHiirnN-Ed_nvihHnMyv7nvADBjO9WBnRMN9p72rIvsncO5QmBBVh026cvCH0nv8hUp_nNpxTiK/w300-h400/IMG_3052.jpeg" width="300" alt="IMG_3052.jpeg"></a></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align:center;">Esta tronera era una abertura estrecha en la torre utilizada para disparar armas de fuego desde el interior sin quedar expuesto al enemigo</td></tr></tbody></table>Su presencia recuerda que, tras 1492, la fortaleza siguió siendo un espacio militar estratégico. Las nuevas necesidades defensivas llevaron a adaptar sus murallas y a incorporar estructuras pensadas para las armas de fuego, muy diferentes de las que habían dominado la arquitectura militar medieval.Pero quizá lo más interesante sea observar el terreno que lo rodea. Hasta principios del siglo XX, aquí no existía la amplia terraza que hoy conocemos. El terreno descendía en pendiente hacia el bosque, formando parte del último tramo del paseo situado a la izquierda del camino de acceso. <table style="margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align:center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrJ1_ZS8kC2NdM7T7bwhemQ1to7NuuPs8c1hw_1TTWaGsTJxtNfbOxW7nQx-r_MSeHqLPsVfkzooxIwoXQtrcxwGzccddLas6o-TVP_rU2VwcwVKMrdHp0EjmoeSzyvnfhx1FbOJgtIyFlkzAaJ2gGE_Sl8mwR1VZBoDmD0BK4ET9csMBQueNjk_lISd1/s3554/IMG_2641.jpeg" style="margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;text-align:center;"><img height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrJ1_ZS8kC2NdM7T7bwhemQ1to7NuuPs8c1hw_1TTWaGsTJxtNfbOxW7nQx-r_MSeHqLPsVfkzooxIwoXQtrcxwGzccddLas6o-TVP_rU2VwcwVKMrdHp0EjmoeSzyvnfhx1FbOJgtIyFlkzAaJ2gGE_Sl8mwR1VZBoDmD0BK4ET9csMBQueNjk_lISd1/w320-h400/IMG_2641.jpeg" width="320" alt="IMG_2641.jpeg"></a></td></tr><tr><td style="text-align:center;">Puerta de acceso al cubo de artillería desde la Puerta de la Justicia</td></tr></tbody></table>La imagen actual es, por tanto, el resultado de una transformación del paisaje: donde hoy encontramos una explanada abierta y regularizada, durante siglos hubo una ladera integrada en el bosque de la Alhambra.Este pequeño cubo defensivo, casi escondido junto al muro, es así mucho más que una pieza militar. Es también un testimonio de las distintas Alhambras que han existido a lo largo del tiempo: la nazarí, la fortaleza transformada tras 1492 y la Alhambra monumental que comenzó a configurarse con las grandes intervenciones de los siglos XIX y XX. <a href="http://legadonazari.blogspot.com/2026/09/el-cubo-de-la-puerta-de-la-justicia.html" target="_blank">- Enlace a artículo -</a> Más info en https://ift.tt/l1gREtK / Tfno. & WA 607725547 Centro MENADEL (Frasco Martín) Psicología Clínica y Tradicional en Mijas. #Menadel #Psicología #Clínica #Tradicional #MijasPueblo *No suscribimos necesariamente las opiniones o artículos aquí compartidos. No todo es lo que parece.

Can You Tell Who's Really Playing? 🎺 | Horn Challenge

Fondazione Antonio Medrano

<img src="https://www.heliodromos.it/wp-content/uploads/2026/10/Omaggio-Antonio-Medrano.jpg" alt="" width="652" height="899"> Sabato 3 Ottobre 2026 si è tenuta a Madrid, presso il Centro Cultural de los Ejércitos, con la presenza del presidente Eduardo Arroyo, il vicepresidente José María Ruiz e l’infaticabile e vulcanica segretaria Marta Gálvez-Cañero, la presentazione della FONDAZIONE ANTONIO MEDRANO, davanti ad un vasto ed attento pubblico di allievi ed estimatori dello studioso spagnolo. Dall’Italia è intervenuto il nostro collaboratore Enzo Iurato: amico di Antonio Medrano, traduttore e diffusore della sua opera e del suo pensiero nel nostro Paese, di cui proponiamo qui di seguito il testo dell’intervento, nella sua versione integrale, comprendente anche le parti che si son dovute saltare per rientrare nei tempi previsti dall’organizzazione. * * * Non è possibile parlare del rapporto di Antonio Medrano con l’Italia senza far riferimento al “Gruppo di Heliodromos”, con cui Antonio ha intrattenuto, fino all’ultimo, una lunga e duratura collaborazione. Heliodromos è il nome del penultimo grado dell’iniziazione mitriaca e significa “Messaggero del Sole”, corrispondendo a quello che, presso le religioni bibliche, sono le figure angeliche, a loro volta Messaggeri di Dio. Il Gruppo si costituì a metà degli anni ’70 in Sicilia, su iniziativa di Gaetano Alì, il quale, dopo una militanza giovanile all’interno di formazioni politiche come il Movimento Sociale Italiano e Ordine Nuovo, prese parte al lavoro spirituale svolto dal Gruppo dei Dioscuri, sorto all’interno del Centro Studi Ordine Nuovo e attivo in diverse città italiane all’inizio degli anni ’70 del secolo scorso; tentando di ripercorrere il cammino già seguito dal Gruppo di Ur che, sotto la direzione di Julius Evola e con la partecipazione di eminenti personaggi degli ambienti iniziatici dell’epoca, tentò, sul finire degli Anni ’20 (dal 1927 al 1929, quindi cento anni fa!), di «ridestare una fiamma mai spenta ma occultata nelle caligini attuali, il fuoco perenne che in Occidente ha il suo luogo sacro, il suo altare in Roma». Con i Dioscuri si voleva dare inizio ad una preparazione severa ed integrale affinché contro la massa informe dei senza volto si delineasse una vera razza dello spirito e del corpo e un ORDINE si manifestasse nel mondo riconducendo l’uomo al suo destino. Tuttavia, l’attività del Gruppo ebbe vita breve e travagliata (ci fu anche un caso di suicidio), essendo considerata sufficiente per farne parte la semplice militanza politica, che non sempre trova corrispondenza in una qualificazione spirituale, indispensabile per intraprendere un lavoro interiore di questo tipo. Fatto sta che Gaetano, superato indenne quel periodo, durante il quale ebbe anche un incontro con Julius Evola, e avendo fatto tesoro della precedente esperienza politica e del “lavoro” spirituale svolto all’interno dei Dioscuri, essendo diventato nel frattempo docente di Pedagogia presso l’Università di Catania, mosso da una forte indole concreta e realizzativa, si determinò a costituire, insieme a pochi altri fedeli collaboratori, la realtà che prese il nome di Heliodromos, organizzatasi in Centri Studi di Formazione Tradizionale: nella cui definizione è già possibile individuare tutte le indicazioni necessarie a comprenderne l’indirizzo e le modalità operative, finalizzate alla ricerca e alla selezione di uomini decisi ad opporsi al decadimento e alla deriva anti umana dei tempi ultimi: <ul> <li>Il CENTRO, al di là della moderna imbalsamazione burocratico-organizzativa, rappresenta il punto di partenza di ogni cosa e l’immagine simbolica dell’Unità primordiale, da cui tutto è prodotto e da cui deriva ogni manifestazione esterna, comprese le più contingenti. Il punto al centro del cerchio rappresenta, di conseguenza, anche la meta da raggiungere e l’obiettivo a cui mirare partendo dalla circonferenza (immagine sia del Mondo sia di un ciclo di manifestazione), dove è collocata e si svolge l’esistenza ordinaria dell’essere umano, il cui incessante mutamento è regolato ordinato e fissato dal continuo riferimento Centrale.</li> <li>Gli STUDI rimandano direttamente alla conoscenza e alla concentrazione che questa richiede; cioè la preparazione dottrinaria, indispensabile per intraprendere qualsiasi percorso e qualunque valida iniziativa sul piano umano ed esistenziale. Essendo già la conoscenza teorica in grado di imprimere una svolta e un orientamento, sottraendo l’individuo all’ignoranza e alla presunzione generalizzate che stanno alla base e sono l’autentico motivo delle attuali anomalie.</li> <li>La FORMAZIONE è il supporto della ricostruzione interiore, utile per raggiungere il “campo base” dell’uomo differenziato, pronto all’ascesa verso le più alte vette. Facendo in modo che l’intenzione e la volontà vadano a coincidere con la tendenza verso il Principio, essendo il Centro, al contempo, punto di partenza e punto di arrivo, inizio e fine, allo stesso modo di quanto accade nella respirazione o nel battito cardiaco. Per cui la regolazione di tale percorso attraverso la scienza del ritmo contribuisce in maniera decisiva all’essere bene orientati, perfettamente centrati e in totale armonia nei diversi elementi che compongono l’individualità umana.</li> <li>TRADIZIONALE, in quanto è nella Sapienza universale o Philosophia Perennis racchiusa nei Testi Sacri delle civiltà del passato che va ricercato ogni riferimento ed ogni modello da contrapporre all’anomalia moderna e al crescente e progressivo degrado analitico che la contraddistingue, tornando alla visione del mondo organica e sintetica.</li> </ul> Secondo questi presupposti, il Gruppo si è sempre mantenuto fedele all’armonia del ciclo annuale e delle stagioni, per un ritorno autentico all’origine ed allo spirito primordiale, dove il Sole si fa immagine del Principio ed il Fuoco suo simbolo e ricordo quotidiano. Senza mai trascurare l’impegno operativo e la verifica concreta, tramite gli opportuni strumenti che la realtà, di volta in volta, ci mette a disposizione; avendo Gaetano progettato, fin dall’inizio, la proposta strategica delle Unità operanti, dove ogni uomo o gruppo che si richiama alla Tradizione deve, «dopo un’attenta analisi della realtà che lo circonda, individuare i vuoti esistenti; e quindi, anche in relazione alle specifiche capacità e disponibilità dei mezzi, (…) intervenire con intelligenza nel particolare settore scelto». Sempre evitando, poi, la retorica paccottiglia folkloristica, per un ritorno autentico e reale ai valori ed ai principi fondamentali della Tradizione. I soli che meritano di essere salvati, curati e tramandati. A questo punto, potrà sembrare scortese e presuntuoso da parte mia venire qui a parlarvi di Heliodromos e di Gaetano Alì in un incontro dedicato ad Antonio Medrano. Ma il fatto è che il rapporto con Antonio si è via via rinsaldato sempre più proprio in ragione degli elementi comuni che caratterizzavano il nostro e il suo “percorso esistenziale”, la nostra e la sua “ricerca di conoscenze”, i nostri e i suoi “obiettivi da realizzare”. Già negli scambi epistolari questo era risultato chiaramente, ma fu al momento del suo primo viaggio in Sicilia, nell’Estate del 2000, che ci ritrovammo accomunati nella stessa fedeltà ai principi tradizionali. Riconoscendoci della stessa razza e fratellanza spirituale fin dal primo incontro, all’aeroporto di Catania, dove andammo ad accoglierlo. Quella prima settimana trascorsa insieme a noi e ai numerosi giovani intervenuti al “campo di formazione” presso l’azienda agricola di Prato Fiorito, alle pendici dell’Etna – i quali giovani pendevano letteralmente dalle sue labbra e non smettevano di sottoporgli domande e chiedergli consigli d’ogni tipo – lo impressionò al punto tale che da allora in avanti dichiarò di sentirsi, a tutti gli effetti, uno di noi, dimostrando coi fatti questa appartenenza, non facendoci mai mancare i suoi contributi dottrinari e culturali, cercando di partecipare – tutte le volte che gli era possibile – agli incontri annuali, diventati un punto fermo nella sua agenda. Dopo di allora, ogni volta che veniva a Catania, Antonio anticipava di un giorno il suo arrivo, fermandosi in città per una visita (obbligata!) alla Libreria Cavallotto di Corso Sicilia, una delle più antiche e più fornite librerie catanesi; dove trascorreva diverse ore a sfogliare volumi e scegliere opere che mancavano nella sua sterminata biblioteca; assistito in questa ricerca dai commessi della libreria che si mettevano a completa disposizione del “Professore spagnolo” che li onorava della sua presenza; uscendone sempre con una montagna di libri, che poi cercava di far entrare in tutti i modi nella sua valigia stracolma. E quando provavamo a fargli omaggio di una confezione di dolci tipici siciliani (per coloro che non lo sapessero: la dolceria siciliana è una delle ottave meraviglie del mondo!), non c’era posto nemmeno per una pasta di mandorla… In una lettera del 3 Agosto 2003, Antonio si lamenta per non aver potuto partecipare all’incontro di quell’anno: «Mi dispiace molto di non aver potuto essere presente questi giorni nella vostra magnifica oasi, questo ambiente caloroso e luminoso che avete saputo creare in questo luogo incomparabile con tanto amore, entusiasmo e fatica. In verità, ne avrei avuto bisogno. Ripeto quel che dicevo in altra occasione. Sarebbe stata per me un’eccellente terapia per contrastare l’impatto dell’asfissiante atmosfera in cui si è costretti a trascorrere la vita quotidiana (come immagino succeda anche a tutti voi). Potendo addirittura partecipare a conversazioni nelle quali si affrontano temi interessanti, vitali, profondi, appassionanti, sarebbe stato un balsamo per la mia anima. Non potete immaginare quanto mi mancano queste vostre riunioni e discussioni! Si finisce con l’essere stufi di una società nella quale sembrano essere proibite le questioni veramente importanti per la vita e nella quale non si parla che di mangiate, vestiti, mobili, divertimenti e pettegolezzi vari. Prometto di cercare di organizzarmi meglio e fare tutto il possibile per venire all’appuntamento l’anno prossimo, se Dio vuole… e se l’alto comando lo permette». Ribadendolo, a distanza di tempo, in una lettera del 16 Ottobre 2020: «Sono totalmente d’accordo con te. Niente può sostituire il contatto personale, con la presenza fisica, nel quale si può parlare di tutto in modo più spontaneo. Mi duole molto non potere essere presente in queste preziose, salutari e nobili riunioni sull’Etna, nelle quali uno si ricarica di tanta energia per continuare il combattimento e non venir meno. Magari fosse possibile, in un modo o nell’altro, poter partecipare a qualcuno dei prossimi incontri». La sua collaborazione alla rivista Heliodromos è stata continua, protraendosi nel corso degli anni, fino al lavoro più importante e impegnativo (sia per l’Autore che per il traduttore!), l’edizione italiana de La Via dell’Azione, con l’enorme lavoro di revisione ed integrazione, sfociato, a tutti gli effetti, nella pubblicazione di un’opera totalmente rinnovata; che poi, per scelta dell’Autore, venne divisa in due volumi (La Via dell’Azione e L’Attivismo), da poco ripubblicata in questa nuova versione anche in Spagna. E sono, a mio giudizio, particolarmente significative le rispettive dediche poste da Medrano in apertura delle due edizioni. La prima originale spagnola: «A mis fieles amigos Eduardo y José María, que tanto me han ayudado a perfilar esta obra con sus intelligentes observaciones»; e la traduzione italiana: «Alla memoria di Gaetano Alì e ai suoi collaboratori, che da molti anni stanno svolgendo un meritevole lavoro al servizio della Tradizione». Alla luce delle quali è come se un cerchio si chiudesse, segnando l’incontro di oggi la strada per un nuovo inizio nel nome di Antonio Medrano e della sua preziosa opera, che merita di essere diffusa e conosciuta da quante più persone possibili, soprattutto dalle nuove generazioni, indicando essa il cammino a quanti intendono mettersi alla ricerca del proprio Centro e della Verità tradizionale. Il lavoro di ricostruzione interiore, fulcro delle attività del Gruppo di Heliodromos, coincide, del resto, perfettamente con quanto espresso nel punto 40 dei Fini della Fondazione, quando si parla di «insegnare tecniche di formazione personale, tecniche tradizionali per la vita. Studiare e applicare tutte quelle tecniche – spirituali, sacre e iniziatiche – che, risultando dall’applicazione della Scienza sacra, permettono alla persona di ottenere un maggior equilibrio ed armonia nella sua vita, conquistare l’unità, ottenere uno sviluppo pieno delle sue potenzialità, prendere coscienza della propria realtà intima e incanalare in modo corretto e sano le proprie energie interiori o sottili». Era quindi inevitabile, era destino che le nostre strade si incontrassero, che il rispettivo impegno per la Tradizione venisse a coincidere. Anche perché Medrano aveva attraversato, al pari di Gaetano, le acque infide instabili e mutevoli della politica, non essendosi più curato – da un certo punto in avanti – di essa, ma guardato e passato oltre… Essendo quella di asservire Tradizione Religione e Spirito alla politica (con l’anomalia della “politicizzazione della vita” alla quale Antonio ha dedicato un magistrale, definitivo e chiarificatore scritto), quanto di più assurdo ed insensato possa concepirsi. Quando, semmai, la politica, cioè l’arte di governare, è sempre stata sottomessa e regolata dai superiori valori spirituali, dall’autorità spirituale detentrice di tali valori, contro cui il potere temporale ha sempre cercato di ribellarsi e di rendersi autonomo, favorendo in questo modo l’ingovernabile deriva attuale, attraverso le tappe di un prolungato e continuo processo dissolutivo (cominciato con la rivolta degli Kshatriya contro l’autorità dei Brâhmani), di cui gli odierni integralismi e fondamentalismi (l’islamismo radicale, il sionismo omicida e il protestantesimo settario) rappresentano la manifestazione finale, dove si è usi bestemmiare: «Dio è con noi», «Dio lo vuole»; raggiungendo il punto più basso col demente della Casa Bianca che, senza vergogna e senso del ridicolo, ha avuto il coraggio di dichiarare: «Dio è molto soddisfatto di quello che sto facendo»! Certo, nei “Fini” della Fondazione Antonio Medrano sarebbe possibile individuare un programma ideale per la costituzione di un eventuale Fronte della Tradizione, nella sua applicazione più completa e profonda, o anche di un semplice movimento o organizzazione militante, in vista di un intervento minimo, limitato alle contingenze politiche; nessun aspetto venendo in essi trascurato, e nulla essendo lasciato al caso e all’improvvisazione, riguardo all’essere umano nella sua tripartizione naturale di corpo, anima e spirito. Ma è pur vero quanto sosteneva, a proposito di programmi, il Capo della Guardia di Ferro rumena Corneliu Codreanu; probabilmente la figura più nobile e più luminosa fra quelle espresse dal Fascismo europeo fra le due guerre mondiali; insieme a José Antonio, il capo della Falange Spagnola. Medrano ci raccontò che gli fu imposto alla nascita quel nome di battesimo in memoria dello zio materno Antonio Esparrago, caduto giovanissimo nei primi giorni della crociata anticomunista, la cui foto in divisa falangista egli vedeva, da piccolo, a casa della nonna. E in un nostro viaggio a Madrid, egli ci portò a visitare il monumento dedicato ai legionari rumeni Mota e Marin, caduti a Majadahonda per la Spagna. Entrambi, Codreanu e José Antonio, sottratti dagli assassinii democratici di cui furono vittime all’esame della storia e della conquista del potere, alla prova del governo dei rispettivi paesi e all’inevitabile giudizio finale determinato dalle vicende belliche, cui essi non ebbero modo di prendere parte, a differenza degli altri capi e dirigenti fascisti europei. Avendo quindi scritto Codreanu, a proposito delle proposte e delle enunciazioni ideali: «non di programmi elettorali c’è bisogno, ma di uomini nuovi», uomini che incarnino i principi di cui sono promotori, con l’esempio e la coerenza fra ciò che si pensa e ciò che si fa. Il Saggio di Boadilla del Monte – e questa definizione non è affatto esagerata! – nel cui nome siamo oggi qui riuniti ha messo al centro della sua opera la trasformazione degli individui in persone, per ricondurre ognuno alla sua essenza spirituale, per far emergere la sua autentica vocazione, in modo da poter adempiere pienamente al compito e al destino assegnatogli, andando ad occupare il posto che gli spetta di diritto nella comunità d’appartenenza e nel mondo. Perché il buono, il bello, il giusto e il vero camminano con le gambe degli uomini, sono compiuti e realizzati dagli uomini, ogni volta che questi operano in armonia e in accordo col Progetto divino e con la Provvidenza; in totale coerenza e perfetta impersonalità, senza falsi alibi e ipocriti moralismi. E questo ci rimanda a quanto ci riferì Antonio a proposito di una singolare dichiarazione di Francisco Elias de Tejada, illustre esponente del Carlismo e del tradizionalismo ispanico: «Io sono cristiano dalla cintola in su». Essendo proprio il caso di dire: evviva la coerenza! Così come del resto tutto ciò che è negazione del buono, del bello, del giusto e del vero, si realizza attraverso l’operato di altri uomini, che si mettono al servizio (diventano servi) di tutto ciò che è contrario al Principio luminoso, trasformandosi in portatori delle peggiori influenze antiumane. Dimostrando (in apparenza) di sovrastare numericamente la sempre più ridotta minoranza degli agenti del bene (coloro che agiscono per il bene); riducendo tutti a vittime della propaganda, della pubblicità (chi si sognerebbe di bere, altrimenti, la Coca Cola?), dipendenti dalle mode, asserviti alle leggi del mercato e schiavi dei social. Rendendo valido ed attuale il detto riportato da Miguel de Unamuno: «Dónde vas Vicente? Dónde va la gente!»: in riferimento alla massa informe di individui, al gregge umano, ai numeri senza identità, senza carattere e senza capacità di pensare con la propria testa, che affollano il mondo d’oggi. Prigionieri dell’apparire, del mostrarsi, dell’eccessivo ed esagerato manifestarsi, resi possibili nella misura attuale dagli strumenti informatici messi alla portata di tutti. Quando, in realtà, «l’essenziale è invisibile agli occhi», come ci insegna Il piccolo principe. Una volta chiedemmo ad Antonio di preparare un articolo che parlasse di questi “agenti del male”, di coloro che “agiscono male”, delle forze occulte che in modo sempre più palese (oramai non si nascondono più!) promuovono e incoraggiano ogni manifestazione malefica nel mondo attuale; ma lui si rifiutò di affrontare tale argomento, sostenendo – a conti fatti, giustamente! – che a “frugare nella spazzatura” c’è solo da sporcarsi le mani e prendersi qualche brutta infezione. E, in effetti, il suo metodo è sempre stato quello di presentare gli aspetti positivi della realtà, i pensieri che andavano concepiti, le parole che andavano dette e le cose che andavano fatte, per guardare al bene e realizzare il bene. Rimanendo sullo sfondo il malefico e il negativo, che risaltano per il semplice contrasto. Perfettamente coerente, in questo, con la sua nobile natura di “uomo verticale”, con la gentilezza delicatezza e sensibilità che adottava nei rapporti interpersonali, col suo squisito senso dell’umorismo, col suo amore per la natura e gli animali (dal suo cane Lak, cui dedicò un commovente ricordo, alle rondini che andavano a fare il nido nella sua veranda, considerate da Antonio delle inviate celesti che gli portavano ispirazione e beatitudine), col suo rispetto e apprezzamento per tutto ciò che aveva a che fare col sacro e con la religione, sotto qualunque forma e manifestazione. Lo ricordiamo, infatti, dedito alle sue meditazioni, nella posizione del loto, a Prato Fiorito, rivolto nella direzione dove si sarebbe a breve levato il Sole; o a Madrid, durante la visita di una nostra “delegazione”, accolta con impareggiabile affetto e disponibilità, inginocchiarsi e farsi il segno della croce tutte le volte che si entrava in una chiesa visitata. Avendo conosciuto direttamente la nostra realtà, Antonio ebbe modo di rammaricarsi più volte, di persona o per corrispondenza, del fatto di non poter contare in Spagna su un ambiente militante simile a quello trovato da noi, che, a suo dire, gli avrebbe risolto tanti problemi organizzativi e lo avrebbe alleggerito dai numerosi impegni “pratici” cui doveva sottoporsi, sottraendo tempo ed energie ai suoi studi ed al suo lavoro intellettuale e di scrittura. Del resto, volando lui sempre alto non era particolarmente portato alle piccole incombenze quotidiane, risultando fondamentale, da questo punto di vista, il prezioso contributo assicuratogli dalla moglie Maria Antonia. Una grande donna, che gli permetteva di svolgere il suo compito, organizzandogli (un passo dietro di lui!) l’esistenza ordinaria, senza tuttavia fargli mai mancare il giudizio e le correzioni necessarie ai suoi studi e al suo lavoro intellettuale. Leggendo lo Statuto e il Programma della Fondazione, si intuisce che Medrano ne aveva immaginato la realizzazione e l’operato essendo lui ancora vivente. Non poteva certo pensare, come del resto nessuno di noi poteva pensarlo, alla sua prematura scomparsa. Ma la sua presenza è comunque assicurata – in spirito e di fatto – dalla sua opera e dal suo esempio, di cui siete tenuti a far tesoro voi che vi siete impegnati in questa encomiabile impresa. Se con la Fondazione sarà possibile radunare una realtà umana attiva e consapevole, in grado di assicurarne la trasmissione del messaggio e la realizzazione anche di una minima parte di quanto da lui progettato, sono sicuro che il suo nome sarà onorato nel migliore dei modi, come egli merita per tutto ciò che ci ha lasciato in eredità. Dall’Italia possiamo assicurarvi la massima collaborazione affinché quest’impresa possa andare a buon fine e raccoglierne gli attesi frutti, specie per quanto riguarda la trasmissione ai giovani e alle future generazioni del prezioso bagaglio di insegnamenti e conoscenze che Antonio ci ha lasciato in eredità. La Tradizione è trasmissione, e se in Spagna si potranno costituire delle Unità operanti, delle “cittadelle tradizionali” intente a realizzare quanto auspicato da Antonio, non è del tutto da escludere la creazione di un futuro coordinamento transnazionale fra tutte le Unità operanti presenti nei vari paesi europei. Nella certezza che, quando si opera al servizio dello Spirito e col cuore puro, non si può mettere alcun limite alle possibilità e alle potenzialità umane. <a href="https://www.heliodromos.it/fondazione-antonio-medrano/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=fondazione-antonio-medrano" target="_blank">- Enlace a artículo -</a> Más info en https://ift.tt/l1gREtK / Tfno. & WA 607725547 Centro MENADEL (Frasco Martín) Psicología Clínica y Tradicional en Mijas. #Menadel #Psicología #Clínica #Tradicional #MijasPueblo *No suscribimos necesariamente las opiniones o artículos aquí compartidos. No todo es lo que parece.

Hand to Hand

<h1>Hand to Hand</h1>Spiritual Relief Journal · No. 4<div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!aoy4!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!aoy4!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!aoy4!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!aoy4!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg" width="1456" height="2173" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!aoy4!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!aoy4!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!aoy4!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!aoy4!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!aoy4!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!aoy4!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa1b00c66-e64a-4f42-b6f0-01dbbdd5be3f_804x1200.jpeg"></a></figure></div>The Concourse of the Birds. Folio 11r of a Mantiq al-Tayr copied at Herat in 1487. Painting by Habiballah of Sava, Isfahan, about 1600. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York.<blockquote>We made you long, and you did not long. We called you, and you did not set out. We signalled to you, and you did not understand.</blockquote>The father’s letter, in Suhrawardi’s Tale of the Western ExileFollowing Friday’s film, Alone in the Crowd.<div><div><iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" src="https://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/G-R_KbQSbLk?rel=0&autoplay=0&showinfo=0&enablejsapi=0" frameborder="0" width="728" height="409"></iframe></div></div><div><hr></div>In this issueEight Rules for a Marketplace. What the film left out.The Man in the Well. A twelfth-century voyage in the Qur’an’s own words, and the judge who wrote from a cell.The Book That Waited. Finished at Herat in 1487. Completed at Isfahan more than a hundred years later.Two Portraits from Bijapur. A sultan, a man in sheepskin, and an emperor’s handwriting.A Lithograph, a Steamer, a Sword. Three Frenchmen and a town called Nowhere.Marginalia.<a href="https://spiritualrelief.substack.com/p/after-dark">AFTER DARK</a><div><hr></div><h2>Eight Rules for a Marketplace</h2>Abd al-Khaliq Ghijduwani died in 1179. He left eight rules. The film gave you the fourth.<ol><li>Hush dar dam. Awareness in the breath.</li><li>Nazar bar qadam. Eyes on the step.</li><li>Safar dar watan. Travel in the homeland.</li><li>Khalwat dar anjuman. Solitude in the crowd.</li><li>Yad kard. Remembrance.</li><li>Baz gasht. Return.</li><li>Nigah dasht. Watchfulness.</li><li>Yad dasht. Recollection.</li></ol>The Persian name for them is kalimat-i qudsiyya, the sacred words. Sources differ on the order of the fifth to the eighth. All of them keep solitude in the crowd fourth.Baha al-Din Naqshband (1318–1389) added three more, each a halt: wuquf-i zamani, of time; wuquf-i ‘adadi, of number; wuquf-i qalbi, of the heart.In 1460 a Naqshbandi shaykh, Khwaja Ahrar, came to Herat to ask Sultan Abu Sa’id to abolish the tamgha, a tax on trade that the shari’a did not authorize.<div><hr></div><h2>The Man in the Well</h2><h3>Shihab al-Din Yahya al-Suhrawardi (1154–1191)</h3>In 1191 a man of about thirty-six died in Aleppo on Saladin’s order. The jurists of the city had demanded it. The governor, Saladin’s son al-Malik al-Zahir, had held a disputation between Suhrawardi and the jurists, and Suhrawardi prevailed. Among the charges was a sentence about God’s power: that He is able to create a prophet if He wishes. The jurists ruled that his books were not books of Islam. The tradition calls him al-Maqtul, the Killed, to tell him from the other Suhrawardis.In the Hikmat al-Ishraq he wrote:<blockquote>There was among the Persians a people who guided by the truth and by it did justice, wise and virtuous men, unlike the Magians. We have revived their noble wisdom of light, to which the taste of Plato and the sages before him bears witness, in our book called The Wisdom of Illumination.</blockquote>Suhrawardi, Hikmat al-Ishraq, from the ArabicQissat al-Ghurba al-Gharbiyya is the Tale of the Western Exile. Ghurba is exile. Gharbiyya is western. The two words share a root. Suhrawardi says he wrote it after reading Avicenna’s Hayy ibn Yaqzan, “Alive, Son of Awake,” which he found full of wonders and silent about the highest stage until the end of the book. The italics below are the Qur’an’s own words.<div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!qbz6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!qbz6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!qbz6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!qbz6!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg" width="1456" height="1075" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!qbz6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!qbz6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!qbz6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!qbz6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!qbz6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!qbz6!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Febfc7915-77ce-4aec-9c16-4c796fbe20a5_600x443.jpeg"></a></figure></div>Qayrawan seen from the minaret of the Great Mosque. Photochrome, 1899<blockquote>When I travelled with my brother ‘Asim from the lands beyond the river to the country of the West, to hunt a flock of the birds of the shore of the green sea, we fell suddenly into the town whose people are wrongdoers, I mean the city of Qayrawan. When its people sensed that we had come upon them unawares, and that we were sons of the shaykh known as al-Hadi ibn al-Khayr al-Yamani, they surrounded us, took us bound in chains and fetters of iron, and imprisoned us at the bottom of a well of endless depth. Over the abandoned well, which our presence had made inhabited, stood a lofty palace with many towers. We were told: There is no blame on you if you climb up to the palace, stripped bare, when evening comes. But at dawn you must drop back into the depths of the pit.At the bottom of the well were darknesses one above another; when we put out our hands we could scarcely see them. Only at the hour of evening did we climb the palace and look out over the open air through a window. Sometimes doves came to us from the thickets of Yemen with news of the homeland. Sometimes a Yemeni lightning visited us, flashing from the right side, the east, and told us of what came by night in Najd, and the wind of the arak trees added longing to our longing. Then we yearned and pined for home.While we were climbing up by night and going down again, we saw the hoopoe come in through the window on a moonlit night, greeting us, and in his beak was a letter sent from the right bank of the valley, in the blessed spot, from the tree. He said to us: I have found the way of your release, and I have come to you from Sheba with sure news. It is set out in your father’s letter.When we read the letter, it said that it was from al-Hadi, your father, and that: In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful. We made you long, and you did not long. We called you, and you did not set out. We signalled to you, and you did not understand. And in the letter he signalled to me: You, so-and-so, if you wish to be delivered along with your brother, do not slacken, the two of you, in your resolve to travel. Hold fast to our rope, which is the substance of the holy sphere that rules over the regions of the eclipse.When you come to the valley of the ants, shake out your skirt and say: Praise be to God, who gave me life after He had made me die, and to Him is the rising. Destroy your people, and kill your wife: she was of those who stayed behind. Go where you are commanded, for the last of these will be cut off at morning. And board the ship, and say: In the name of God be its course and its mooring.He set out in the letter all that would happen on the road. The hoopoe went ahead, and the sun stood over our heads as we reached the edge of the shadow. We boarded the ship, and it ran with us through waves like mountains, and we were making for the ascent of Mount Sinai, to visit our father’s hermitage.The waves came between me and my son, and he was among the drowned. I knew that my people’s appointed time is the morning; is not the morning near? I knew that the town that used to do foul deeds would be turned upside down, and rained on with stones of baked clay, layer on layer.When we came to a place where the waves crash and the waters roll, I took the nurse who had suckled me and threw her into the sea. We were travelling in a vessel of planks and nails. We holed the ship, for fear of a king behind us who seizes every ship by force. The laden ship carried us past the island of Gog and Magog, toward the left side of al-Judi. I had jinn with me who worked before me, and the spring of molten brass was mine to command. I said to the jinn: Blow, until it became like fire. I built a barrier, until I was cut off from them.My Lord’s promise came true. On the road I saw the skulls of ‘Ad and Thamud, and I went round those lands, fallen in upon their roofs. I took the two weighty races, men and jinn, together with the spheres, and put them with the jinn into a flask I had made myself, round, with lines on it like circles. I cut off the rivers from the middle of the sky. When the water stopped reaching the millstone, the building fell, and the air escaped to the air. I threw the sphere of spheres onto the heavens until it ground the sun and the moon and the stars to powder. I was delivered from fourteen coffins and ten tombs, out of which the shadow of God rises, until He drew me to the Holy with an easy drawing, after He had made the sun a guide to it. I found the path of God, and understood: This is My path, straight. My sister and my household had been overtaken by night by a covering of God’s punishment. She spent part of the night in darkness, with a fever and a nightmare that was turning into a violent fit. I saw a lamp with oil in it, and a light poured out of it and spread through the corners of the house. Its niche caught fire, and its inhabitants were set alight by the sun’s light rising on them. I put the lamp in the mouth of a dragon that lives in the tower of a waterwheel, with the Red Sea beneath it, and above it stars whose rays fall where no one knows but their Maker and those firm in knowledge.</blockquote><div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Rhsy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Rhsy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Rhsy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Rhsy!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg" width="1456" height="1985" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Rhsy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Rhsy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Rhsy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Rhsy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Rhsy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Rhsy!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F5ec7f5df-49de-4ecd-acab-6efdc0a6f170_864x1178.jpeg"></a></figure></div>From al-Sufi’s Book of the Images of the Fixed Stars. The Metropolitan Museum of Art<blockquote>I saw the Lion and the Bull disappear, and the Archer and the Crab folded away in the turning of the spheres, and the Scales stayed level when the Yemeni star rose from behind thin, shining clouds, woven by the spiders in the corners of the elemental world, in the world of generation and corruption.We had sheep with us, and we left them in the desert. Earthquakes destroyed them, and a fire of lightning fell on them. When the distance was crossed and the road ran out, and the oven boiled over from the conical shape, I saw the higher bodies. I joined them and heard their melodies and their modes, and learned to sing them, and their voices struck my hearing like a chain dragged over a deaf rock. My strings almost snapped and my joints almost came apart from the delight of what I was given. This went on happening to me until the clouds scattered and the caul tore. I came out of the caves and the grottoes and passed through the chambers, heading for the Spring of Life. I saw a great rock on the summit of a mountain like a great peak. I asked the fish gathered in the Spring of Life, taking their pleasure in the shade of the high mountain: This peak, what is it? And this great rock, what is it?One of the fish took its way into the sea, burrowing. It said: That is what you were seeking. This mountain is Mount Sinai, and the rock is your father’s hermitage. I said: And these fish, who are they? It said: Your likenesses. You are sons of one father. What happened to you happened to them. They are your brothers.When I heard it and knew it was true, I embraced them. I was glad of them and they of me. I climbed the mountain and saw our father, an old man from whose radiant light the heavens and the earth nearly split. I stood stunned and bewildered before him. I walked toward him. He greeted me. I bowed down before him and was nearly effaced in his shining light.I wept for a time and complained to him of the prison of Qayrawan. He said to me: Well done. You have escaped. But you must go back to the Western prison, though you have thrown off the fetter completely. When I heard his words my mind flew away, and I groaned and cried out like a man at the point of death, and I pleaded with him.He said: Going back is necessary now. But I bring you good news of two things. The first is that when you return to the prison, you can come to us and climb up to our garden easily, whenever you wish. The second is that in the end you will be delivered to our side, leaving the lands of the West behind entirely.I was glad at what he said. Then he said to me: Know that this is Mount Sinai. Above it is Mount Sinin, the dwelling of my father, your grandfather. I am to him only as you are to me. We have other ancestors, until the line ends at the King, the greatest ancestor, who has no grandfather and no father. We are all His servants. By Him we are lit, and from Him we take our light. His is the greatest splendour, the highest majesty, the most overpowering light. He is above the above, the light of light, above the light, from before time and forever. He is the one who appears to everything, and everything perishes except His face.And I, in this story, when my state changed, fell from the air into the abyss, among a people who are not believers, imprisoned in the lands of the West. Something of the delight stayed with me that I cannot explain. I wept and prayed and grieved over the parting. That rest was a dream, and it passed quickly.God deliver us from the captivity of nature and the fetter of matter. Say: Praise be to God; He will show you His signs and you will know them; and your Lord is not unaware of what you do. Say: Praise be to God; but most of them do not know. And blessings on His Prophet and all his family.</blockquote>Suhrawardi, Qissat al-Ghurba al-Gharbiyya, from the Arabic<h3>‘Ayn al-Qudat Hamadani (1098–1131)</h3>‘Abd Allah of Hamadan, called ‘Ayn al-Qudat, the Eye of the Judges, came from a family of Miyanaj in Azerbaijan. He was a Shafi’i judge, proverbial for his intelligence, and a student of Ahmad Ghazali, the author of the Sawanih.Scholars accused him of heresy over his writings, and he was imprisoned in Baghdad. There, in the year 525 of the Hijra, a few months before his death, he wrote Shakwa al-Gharib ‘an al-Awtan ila ‘Ulama’ al-Buldan, the Complaint of the Stranger, Far from His Homelands, to the Scholars of the Lands. In it he answers the charges and complains of the turns of fortune that brought him there. Jean-Mohammed Abd-el-Jalil first published it in the Journal Asiatique in 1930, from a manuscript in Berlin.The Shafi’i biographers kept a record of his end:<blockquote>‘Ayn al-Qudat Abu’l-Ma’ali was crucified unjustly in the town of Hamadan on the night of Wednesday, the seventh of Jumada al-Akhira, in the year five hundred and twenty-five. And I heard Abu’l-Qasim Mahmud ibn Ahmad al-Ruyani say at Andaraba: When the killing of ‘Ayn al-Qudat drew near, and he was brought forward to the wood to be crucified, he said: And those who do wrong will come to know by what overturning they will be overturned.</blockquote>Al-Subki, Tabaqat al-Shafi’iyya al-Kubra, from the ArabicThe verse he spoke is the last verse of the sura of the Poets. He was thirty-three.<div><hr></div><h2>The Book That Waited</h2><div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!_oT0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!_oT0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!_oT0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!_oT0!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg" width="1456" height="1092" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!_oT0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!_oT0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!_oT0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!_oT0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!_oT0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!_oT0!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F9af9ff18-9199-4f25-b763-85029831f8ca_4000x3000.jpeg"></a></figure></div>The doublure of the Safavid binding, about 1600. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.The colophon dates the book to the first day of the fifth month of 892, which the Met reads as 25 April 1487. The place was Herat, the Timurid capital. The Met reads the colophon as pointing to Mir ‘Ali Shir Nava’i as patron. The sultan of Herat was Husain Baiqara.Nava’i was a poet and a statesman who wrote in Persian and in Chaghatay Turkish. In Herat he built forty caravanserais, seventeen mosques, nine bridges and twenty pools. He had joined the Naqshbandi order with Jami as his spiritual director. Jami had been initiated by Sa’d al-Din Kashghari, who stood one link from Baha al-Din Naqshband. Several folios carry the credit calligrapher Sultan ‘Ali al-Mashhadi, who worked for Husain Baiqara. In 1498–9 Nava’i finished his own version of the poem, the Lisan al-Tayr, in Chaghatay Turkish: 3,553 couplets and fourteen birds, eight of Attar’s and six of his own.The book stopped. Four of its paintings date from the late 1480s, and for some reason the manuscript was not completed. More than a hundred years later it belonged to Shah ‘Abbas. His artists remounted the folios, replaced or added fifteen pages of text, painted four new pictures and a frontispiece, and bound it again. In 1608 or 1609 he gave it to the shrine at Ardabil, the tomb of Shaykh Safi al-Din, whose Sufi order became the Safavid dynasty.Eight paintings survive. Studies of the book’s structure show it once held nine. One Timurid painting is still missing.The Timurid paintings are built like riddles. The Met’s curator notes that the men of Herat held gatherings called majalis where they enjoyed solving poetic puzzles made of puns, and suggests they may have enjoyed deciphering these pictures too.<div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!VQnk!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!VQnk!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!VQnk!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!VQnk!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg" width="1456" height="2237" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!VQnk!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!VQnk!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!VQnk!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!VQnk!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!VQnk!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!VQnk!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fba092581-59be-49cf-9cc0-86ad0c7279d1_781x1200.jpeg"></a></figure></div>Folio 44r, 1487. The Metropolitan Museum of Art.Folio 44r illustrates an anecdote the hoopoe tells: a man whose pride in his exceptionally long beard drowns him in the sea. The Met’s references for the book include a 2006 article titled “Is the Bearded Man Drowning?”The poem itself opens with greetings. Before the birds assemble, Attar addresses thirteen of them one at a time, and hands most of them a story from the Qur’an to carry. Here are eight, in his order.The parrot<blockquote>Welcome, parrot who sit in the Tuba tree, robed in a mantle, a collar of fire at your neck! The collar of fire is for the damned; the mantle is for the blessed and the generous. Whoever has escaped Nimrod, as Khalil did, can sit down gladly beside the fire. Cut Nimrod’s head off as a reed is cut for a pen; like the Friend of God, set your foot in the fire. Once you are clean of the terror of Nimrod, put on the mantle. Why fear the collar of fire?</blockquote>The partridge<blockquote>Bravo, partridge, strutting in your strut! Come down gently from the mountain of gnosis. Laugh your laugh in the manner of this road; knock the ring on the anvil of the House of God. Melt your own mountain down with need, so that a she-camel may come out of your mountain. When you find a she-camel, sound and young, you will see rivers of milk and honey run. Drive the camel on, and if good fortune comes your way, Salih himself will come out to meet you.</blockquote>The francolin<blockquote>Bravo, francolin of the ascent of Alast, who have seen the crown of Alast on the head of Yes! Having heard the Alast of love with your soul, take your leave of the Yes of the self. For the Yes of the self is a whirlpool of trouble, and how will your work come right in a whirlpool? Burn the self as Jesus’s donkey was burned, then become spirit as Jesus did, and set the spirit alight. Burn the donkey, and give the bird of the soul work to do, and the Spirit of God will gladly come out to meet you.</blockquote>The nightingale<blockquote>Welcome, nightingale of the garden of love! Cry out sweetly from the pain and the brand of love. Cry out sweetly from the heart’s ache, like David, so that at every breath a hundred souls are scattered over you. Open David’s throat in meaning, and lead the people by the melody of creation. How long will you fasten a coat of mail on your wretched self? Like David, make your iron wax. If this iron of yours goes soft as wax, you will be warm in love, as David was.</blockquote>The peacock<blockquote>Bravo, peacock of the garden of eight gates, burned by the wound of the seven-headed snake! Keeping company with this snake threw you into blood and threw you out of the garden of Eden. It took the Lote-tree and Tuba from your road and blackened your heart with the wall of nature. Until you destroy this snake, how will you be fit for these secrets? If you are freed from this foul snake, Adam will take you into Paradise with the chosen.</blockquote>The pheasant<blockquote>Welcome, fine far-seeing pheasant! See the spring of the heart drowned in a sea of light. You who are left in the well of darkness, afflicted in the prison of accusation, raise yourself out of this dark well, lift your head to the height of the Throne of the Merciful. Like Joseph, pass beyond the prison and the well, and become a king in the Egypt of honour. If such a kingdom is granted to you, Joseph the Truthful will be your companion.</blockquote>The turtledove<blockquote>Bravo, turtledove, harmonious companion, who went out glad and came back heavy-hearted! You are heavy-hearted because you are still in blood, still in the narrow prison of Dhu’l-Nun. You who are bewildered by the fish of the self, how long will you suffer the ill will of the self? Cut the head off this malicious fish and you will be able to brush the crown of the moon. If you are free of the fish of the self, you will be Jonah’s intimate in the highest seat of the elect.</blockquote>The golden bird<blockquote>Welcome, golden bird! Come in well. Be warm in the work, and come in like fire. Burn whatever comes before you, in your heat; sew the eye of your whole soul shut to creation. When you have burned whatever comes before you, more of God’s hospitality comes to you each moment. When your heart has learned the secrets of the Truth, give yourself over to the work of the Truth. When you become a complete bird in the work of the Truth, you will not remain; the Truth will remain, and peace.</blockquote>Farid al-Din ‘Attar, Mantiq al-Tayr, from the PersianThen the birds gather. Habiballah of Sava painted the scene about 1600.<div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!BXDD!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!BXDD!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!BXDD!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!BXDD!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg" width="1456" height="2063" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!BXDD!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!BXDD!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!BXDD!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!BXDD!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!BXDD!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!BXDD!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa6494f7a-d1c1-4130-8309-dff3f392f0ee_847x1200.jpeg"></a></figure></div>The hoopoe stands on a rock at centre right and urges the birds to seek the Simurgh, their true king. At the upper right a man with a musket watches from behind the rocks. A Met staff writer notes his surprised expression. The hunter has no place in Attar’s poem. The Met uses him, and the artist’s signature on a small rock at the centre, to date the painting: firearms gained currency in Iran after the middle of the sixteenth century.This is what the hoopoe says:<blockquote>For years I have wandered over sea and land, I have gone the road on my head instead of my feet. I have crossed valley and mountain and desert, I crossed a whole world in the age of the Flood. I have been with Solomon on his journeys and measured the breadth of the world many times. I know my King. I cannot go to Him alone. But if you come with me, you will be admitted to that King and that court. Free yourselves from the shame of seeing only yourselves. How long will you live in the disgrace of your own faithlessness? Whoever stakes his soul on Him is free of himself. On the road to the Beloved he is free of good and bad. Scatter your souls and set your feet on the road. Dancing, lay your heads at that door. We have a King beyond dispute, behind a mountain, and the mountain is Qaf. His name is Simurgh, the sultan of the birds. He is near us, and we are far, far from Him.</blockquote>Farid al-Din ‘Attar, Mantiq al-Tayr, from the Persian<div><hr></div><h2>Two Portraits from Bijapur</h2><div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Qj95!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Qj95!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Qj95!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Qj95!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg" width="1456" height="2174" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Qj95!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Qj95!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Qj95!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Qj95!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Qj95!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!Qj95!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F8fef4e6c-e037-49de-9d49-94ce2e339f18_2493x3722.jpeg"></a></figure></div>Portrait of a Sufi. India, Deccan, probably Bijapur, first quarter of the 17th century. Ink, opaque watercolor and gold on paper. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Bequest of Cora Timken Burnett, 1956 (57.51.30).A man sits on bare ground with his knees drawn up and his arms locked around his shins. A sheepskin covers his shoulders, painted as hundreds of small curls. His head is shaved. A white ring hangs from one ear. His eyes are turned to one side. Beside him on the ground is a wooden bowl. Along the bottom of the page lies a bamboo stick, or perhaps a reed flute; the Met allows both.Above the bowl, in Persian: O Prophet, descendant of Hashim, from thee is our help.The bowl is a dervish’s kashkul. The Met’s essay on Sufi art says dervishes carried one so that strangers and other Sufis would recognize them, embrace them, feed them and give alms.The museum reads him as a type that travelled. Single-page paintings were in fashion across the Islamic world in the early seventeenth century, and as the Safavid court declined, some Iranian artists moved to Mughal India and Ottoman Turkey. The Met says this contributed to cross-cultural figure types in the art of those lands, and counts this portrait among them.<div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!MrMU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!MrMU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!MrMU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!MrMU!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg" width="1456" height="2110" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!MrMU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!MrMU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!MrMU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!MrMU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!MrMU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!MrMU!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fef682415-ea67-4543-82c6-473b4f378d46_750x1087.jpeg"></a></figure></div>A second Sufi from Bijapur came to the museum in the same bequest (57.51.22). He sits curled in a long-sleeved khirqa and a turban wrapped in cloth, his gaze lowered. The museum’s label stops to explain khalwa: periods of up to forty days alone in the wilderness, undertaken by young Sufis under a shaykh and by advanced Sufis throughout their lives.<div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!09Yg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!09Yg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!09Yg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!09Yg!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg" width="1456" height="1997" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!09Yg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!09Yg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!09Yg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!09Yg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!09Yg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!09Yg!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fa636f6b9-059c-4ced-9b7c-a02675e190c9_875x1200.jpeg"></a></figure></div>Hashim, Portrait of Ibrahim ‘Adil Shah II of Bijapur, about 1620. Folio from the Shah Jahan Album. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Purchase, Rogers Fund and The Kevorkian Foundation Gift, 1955 (55.121.10.33).The sultan of Bijapur in those years was Ibrahim ‘Adil Shah II, who reigned from 1580 to 1627. The painter, Hashim, is thought to have served in the Deccan before joining the Mughal imperial workshop around 1620, and the Met’s catalogue says he probably had seen the sultan in Bijapur.In his memoirs the emperor Jahangir records that ‘Adil Khan kept asking, through Jahangir’s son Shah Jahan, for a likeness of the emperor, and that he sent one, with a ruby of great value and a special elephant.Hashim’s portrait of the sultan ended up in an album made for Shah Jahan. Along its edge Jahangir wrote, in Persian, shabih-i khub-i Ibrahim ‘Adilkhan: a good portrait of Ibrahim ‘Adil Khan. Below it, probably in Shah Jahan’s hand: ‘amal-i Hashim, the work of Hashim. The catalogue observes that to Jahangir the sultan was always a rival and often an enemy. On the other side of the sheet is a page of calligraphy by Mir ‘Ali Haravi, who died around 1550.The word Hashim is written on both pages. On the sultan’s it is a painter’s name. On the Sufi’s it is the Prophet’s family.<div><hr></div><h2>A Lithograph, a Steamer, a Sword</h2><div><figure><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!kI6F!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!kI6F!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg"></a><source type="image/webp"><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!kI6F!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg"><img src="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!kI6F!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg" width="1456" height="2060" alt=""></a></source><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!kI6F!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!kI6F!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg"></a><div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!kI6F!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!kI6F!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!kI6F!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg"></a></div><a href="https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/%24s_!kI6F!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Ff80a9787-492b-4179-9752-ed7c95bf35b9_848x1200.jpeg"></a></figure></div>Gabriel. The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Department of Islamic Art.On 13 October 1929 Louis Massignon gave a twenty-six-year-old philosopher a lithographed Arabic book. The book was Suhrawardi’s Hikmat al-Ishraq. The philosopher was Henry Corbin, who would become Heidegger’s first French translator, go to Istanbul for six months and stay until 1945, and leave his name on a street in Tehran.<h3>Louis Massignon (1883–1962)</h3>In May 1908 Massignon was held as a spy on a river steamer below Baghdad, tied up in his cabin. At the lowest point of that night he prayed in Arabic: God, help my weakness. He called what followed the Visitation of the Stranger. He did not become a Muslim. He credited the prayers of his Baghdad hosts, the Alusi family, and the intercession of al-Hallaj, a Sufi executed in Baghdad in 922, whose trial records he had been reading. He gave the rest of his working life to Hallaj. La Passion de Hallaj runs to four volumes.<h3>Henry Corbin (1903–1978)</h3>In 1935, with Paul Kraus, Corbin published his first major work on the East: the Persian text of a short recital by Suhrawardi, Avaz-i Par-i Jibra’il, with a French translation, Le bruissement de l’aile de Gabriel, the rustling of Gabriel’s wing. A young man enters his father’s khanaqah at night. It has two doors, one to the city and one to the desert. He leaves by the second and finds ten elders seated on a platform.<blockquote>I looked, and saw ten fair-faced elders seated on a platform. I asked: From what direction have the great ones come? The elder at the edge of the platform answered: We are a company of the abstracted. We have come from Na-koja-abad. I asked: And that city, in what clime does it lie? He said: In a clime to which the forefinger has no way.</blockquote>Suhrawardi, Avaz-i Par-i Jibra’il, from the PersianNa-koja-abad is Suhrawardi’s own coinage: na, no; koja, where; abad, a settled place, as in the name of a town. Corbin observed that it appears in no Persian dictionary. He observed too that it reads like a calque of ou-topia, the word Thomas More made for Utopia, and said it names something entirely different. He needed a French word for the world it belongs to, a world of images that is real, between the senses and the intellect. Imaginaire would not serve. He coined imaginal.In the recital’s third part the narrator asks about Gabriel’s wing.<blockquote>I said: Tell me about the wing of Gabriel. He said: Know that Gabriel has two wings. One is the right wing, and that is pure light. The other is the left wing, and on it is a trace of darkness, like a blemish on the face of the moon. It resembles the peacock’s foot. That is the sign of his share in non-being.</blockquote>Suhrawardi, Avaz-i Par-i Jibra’il, from the Persian<h3>Christian Jambet (born 1949)</h3>On 6 February 2025, welcoming the new academician Christian Jambet to the Académie française, Jean-Luc Marion asked which of his faces to greet. The provincial from French Algeria, a Corsican’s son, come up to Paris. The student of the Vietnam committees. The semi-clandestine militant of the workers’ revolution. The “new philosopher” in the press’s glare. The professor who ruled his khâgne. The scholar of Iranian texts that almost no one reads.In 1976, with Guy Lardreau, Jambet had published L’Ange: pour une cynégétique du semblant, The Angel: toward a hunting of the semblance. He later founded the Islam spirituel collection at Verdier.In Grande Galerie, the magazine of the Société des Amis du Louvre, Jambet follows Corbin’s word imaginal out of L’Imagination créatrice dans le soufisme d’Ibn ‘Arabî (1958) and into Marc Fumaroli’s L’École du silence (1994), a study of the image in seventeenth-century Europe. He quotes his master’s refrain: get out of the orientalist ghetto.A book about the three men asks why a devout Catholic, a committed Protestant and a Maoist atheist gave their lives to esoteric Islam. Its author, Ziad Elmarsafy, finds one answer for each: desire for Massignon, certainty for Corbin, resurrection for Jambet.Jambet took seat 6, which had been Marc Fumaroli’s, and before Fumaroli’s, Eugène Ionesco’s. His reception speech opened with a child received one Sunday by the writer Jean Guéhenno, who put a book in his hands. His sword began as a naval officer’s sabre of the 1853 pattern, altered in 1870. The first line of a couplet by Rumi is engraved on the blade.<div><hr></div><h2>Marginalia</h2>Thirty birds. The Simurgh the birds are looking for can be read si murgh, thirty birds. Thirty reach the end, and there each one sees itself.A three-month visit. René Guénon left Paris for Cairo in 1930 on what he meant as a visit of three months. He died there in 1951. In one account, an admirer of his books lived next door for years to a gentleman she knew as Sheikh Abdel Wahed Yahya.The hoopoe again. Mahmoud Darwish wrote a poem called “The Hoopoe.” A scholar who read it for its sources found al-Jahiz, Avicenna, Suhrawardi, al-Hallaj, Aristophanes and Attar behind it. Fady Joudah’s translation is in If I Were Another.An older letter. From the Hymn of the Pearl, a Syriac poem the apostle Thomas speaks in a prison in India, in G. R. S. Mead’s translation:<blockquote>It flew in the form of the Eagle, Of all the winged tribes the king-bird; It flew and alighted beside me, And turned into speech altogether.</blockquote><div><hr></div>Translations from the Arabic and Persian are new. The Tale of the Western Exile is printed in the collected works of the Shaykh al-Ishraq. The Complaint of the Stranger was edited by Afif Osseiran (Tehran, 1962) and translated by A. J. Arberry as A Sufi Martyr (1969). The Persian text of the Mantiq al-Tayr is on ganjoor.net. The lines from Avaz-i Par-i Jibra’il are from the recital as quoted in the anonymous fourteenth-century Persian commentary; Corbin and Kraus edited the recital in the Journal Asiatique (1935), and Wheeler Thackston translated it in The Philosophical Allegories and Mystical Treatises (1999). The Hymn of the Pearl is in G. R. S. Mead’s 1908 translation. Museum details are from the Metropolitan Museum of Art.<div><hr></div>James FlemingFounder & Editor, SpiritualRelief<a href="https://spiritualrelief.substack.com/p/after-dark">ENTER AFTER DARK</a> <a href="https://spiritualrelief.substack.com/p/hand-to-hand" target="_blank">- Enlace a artículo -</a> Más info en https://ift.tt/l1gREtK / Tfno. & WA 607725547 Centro MENADEL (Frasco Martín) Psicología Clínica y Tradicional en Mijas. #Menadel #Psicología #Clínica #Tradicional #MijasPueblo *No suscribimos necesariamente las opiniones o artículos aquí compartidos. No todo es lo que parece.