Losing Count

25 Ramadhan, 1447

Just five days to observe the fast left after today. And since we're now enjoying the start of the one week March vacation it would appear that the deepest challenges are now over. But you never know.

Just like I never really know my real step count for the day. The app thingy on my phone frequently ends the day telling me I've managed more than 10,000 steps, only for the number to mysteriously decline by the time the next day begins. Not sure why and how the rounding down takes place because I don't care about the count in any real sense.

Numbers seem real, but are deceiving. They can only point in broad directions no matter how precise they seem. (Except when you're building a house. Then you seriously need to get them right. There are limits to philosophising, you know.)

A Matter Of Routine

24 Ramadhan, 1447

Got to the gym ahead of breaking the fast yet again. It's now something of a routine and no longer feels that little bit strange, that tiny bit daring, as it did initially. Even The Missus no longer expresses any particular concern as I make my way down to do my thing.

As the month began I set a broad target of ten visits to the gym over the course of Ramadhan and today I recorded the ninth. Which makes me complacently pleased with myself - until I recall just how much I've struggled  to keep going for the full hour on the elliptical trainer, even when I've lowered the resistance. Today it was at full resistance and the muscles in my legs are sort of remembering that even as I sit and relax. 

Hoping to avoid the ambush of a sudden burst of cramp as I lie sleeping later. But will treat it as a reasonable price to pay if I have to suffer such.

Dreaming

23 Ramadhan, 1447

18.40

Off to The Esplanade for a bit of dance this evening. The Dream of Red Mansions, performed by the National Ballet of China. Tired but up for this. More anon.

21.18

It’s intermission time. A break from the ridiculously gorgeous beauty of the evening. Looking forward to further luxuriating.

11.55

Part 1 of the ballet was wonderful and, remarkably, Part 2 was even better, with its darker hues and distinct sense of melancholy. A number of unforgettable images. Kept wanting to capture the moving canvas of the stage and couldn't - which is the whole point, I suppose, of this kind of transient beauty.

Something Found

22 Ramadhan, 1447

Still no time to luxuriate in sweet sounds. But managed a few minutes with The Modfather in top form essaying a blistering live version of Eton Rifles. I'm not claiming it made my day, but it went some way to ensuring that things didn't fall apart on me, providing an injection of energy at just the right time.

Something Missing

21 Ramadhan, 1447

So far it's been a week without music. And, sadly, that looks set to continue. I'm starting to feel the withdrawal symptoms. 

I'll put this right, probably quite loudly, over the weekend. Good to have something to look forward to, eh?

More Than Enough

20 Ramadhan, 1447

The busiest day of the Fasting Month so far. Which meant that it passed exceptionally quickly yet very slowly. Each hour seemed intense, leaving little time to think except for dealing with that which cried out to be dealt with.

Fortunately the busy stuff came to a sharp conclusion once I'd got back to break the fast (delayed, oh dear!) and caught up with all the prayers. Now it's time to look back and ask whether I remained true to the fast. Put simply, did I display grace under pressure, as the fast relentlessly demands?

Well, it wasn't a disaster, so I can enjoy this reflective moment, at least to some small degree. But the final report, as usual, reads, Could do better.

Enough

19 Ramadhan, 1447

Sometimes it's enough just to get to the end of the day. But mine isn't really finished yet.

So Many Voices

18 Ramadhan, 1447

The dire situation in the Middle East keeps pulling us away from personal concerns, as I'm sure it does for lots of folk around the globe. But the problem is getting real knowledge & understanding of what exactly is taking place. Of course, this is true of our grasp of any 'current event', but once the fog of war descends the feeling of disorientation can be intense.

So far the single most convincingly coherent commentary I've heard comes from a recent podcast from Chris Hedges. I'll be interested to play this again a year hence and see how accurate the analysis from Messers Hedges & Crooke proves in hindsight.

Can't help but wonder about the kind of Ramadhan being experienced by people in Tehran, Beirut, etc. 

Out & About

17 Ramadhan, 1447

One of the patterns of Ramadhan for me, established over decades, has been a tendency to keep things inward for the first half of the month, and then move more obviously into the outer world. It looks as if something similar is starting to take place.

This evening, for the first time, Noi and I went out to do a bit of shopping at the market adjacent to Clementi Mall and in the mall itself. No big deal, of course, but there was a freshness about our unhurried strolling at the market that felt appropriate for this stage of the month. It reminded me of just how much I enjoy evenings in this part of the world, especially when there's a bit of breeze to disturb the warm, thick stillness in the air.

We've just feasted on the bundle we brought home from the KFC at the mall. Noi has always been a bit of a fan of the franchise and, over the years, I've acquired something of a taste for their output, as long as we don't sample it too often. This evening's munching felt appropriate. Just enough, as The Missus rightly announced as we happily concluded.

All very optimal.

Broadening The Mind

16 Ramadhan, 1447

Part 4 of Seyyed Hossein Nasr's The Garden of Truth is very different from the parts that precede it. This final part of the book comprises two extended appendices which basically survey, in a methodically dry fashion, various major schools of Sufi thought in the Islamic world, followed by a history of what the writer terms the tradition of theoretical gnosis. This is in stark contrast to the fascinating exposition-cum-exploration of the range of philosophical ideas that came earlier. But there's another kind of fascination involved.

The barrage of names of what are obviously major figures in what be termed spiritual thought and experience suggest networks of ideas that transcend immediate historical circumstances. They constitute a kind of alternative history outside the usual historical narratives. I suspect I'll never really carve out the time to achieve a genuine familiarity with all this, but at least I've managed to know it's there. A way of acquiring a powerfully wider perspective to my own thought.