Answering That of God in Everyone

Last Sunday, I went to a Quaker Meeting, my first.

And I liked it. A lot. It was held in a simple, small building, the inside furnished with wooden benches (with cushions, alhamdulillah). There was no iconography, no paintings, just the bare walls. Someone was kindling a fire in a large fireplace, which turned to a full blaze shortly thereafter. We all sat in silence, for one hour, except for three times when someone stood and spoke. I don't remember what they said, I just remember the silence, the simplicity, and also the warmth of my welcome, when it came time for me to speak myself and tell everyone my name, and why I was there ("Curiosity... thank you" was what I said, to plenty of laughter).

Where, exactly, the idea to go to a Quaker meeting came from, I cannot say. Perambulations (if I might use that word) on the Internet led me to it, and I decided to give it a shot; I figured I might as well go, and see. Nothing to lose. There was a small measure of fright involved - I hadn't set foot in a church for worship in years - but reminded myself that I had set foot in meetings of my own Fellowship with greater trepidation, after which the fears subsided.

I now feel a calling - I guess you could call it that - to go back, to go regularly, to become a member. I remember, especially, the feeling of lightness, calm and joy I carried with me when I left, a sensation I haven't felt in a long time.

I used to feel that way in my own Fellowship. It used to be a place I could go where I felt a sense of community, of shared effort in a common goal, a place I would visit and from which I would return to the world with a springier step. Now that I think about it, actually, I haven't felt that way about my Fellowship in a long time. Why that is, I don't rightly know. I'm willing to guess, though, that it's the repetition; hearing the same things spoken by pretty much the same people, watching the same melodramas unfold again and again and again. The feeling arises that there is nothing new under the sun, and I'm tired of the lack of... I want to say 'success', but it would be more accurate to call it, simply enough, 'change'.

Maybe that's why I look forward to getting up early on a Sunday morning (unheard of, for a person like me) rather than meeting with my own Fellowship tonight.

Meanwhile, I begin the very indefinite and hazy plans of a trip to Michigan this Spring, on or around Nowruz, to meet with another community, another Fellowship, another path. I'm hoping to pay a visit to the Bektashi tekke in Taylor, to become acquainted with some dervishes in the tariqah, and perhaps to pay a visit to Baba Arshiu. I'm hoping to begin my association with the Bektashi tariqah in a more formal manner, this way; at the moment, it's a very loose connection simply because of the limits of time, space and linguistic barriers, though not from a lack of desire for more proximate affliliation.

One thing which does concern me, however, is that I'd like to formalize my ties to both the Quaker Meeting I attended as well as the Bektashi tariqah, and I'm unsure as to how either will accept this dual affiliation. I find "that of God" in both homes; I find the fellowship of seekers I seek in the Meeting, and the path towards realization I seek in the tariqah.

We shall see what happens.