Bismallah Er rahman Er Rahim. "I begin in the name of Allah, who is mercy and compassion." These are the words that begin the Dances of Universal Peace. Through this embodied Sufi practice, I find a way to pray that takes me out of my thinking head and into my heart.
Growing up in the Roman Catholic Church, I had many harsh opportunities to focus on forgiveness of my particular sins. Gradually, this continual grinding away on my unending sinfulness left me a rubble pile of painful low self-esteem. I never wanted to ask anyone for forgiveness for anything again; therefore my eyes were covered to where I had truly sinned and needed to own it.
One of the Dances of Universal Peace is a dance of asking forgiveness. We dance as we chant 'Astaghfiru’llah La ilaha illa ‘llah!,' which means, "I ask God for forgiveness. There is no God but God!" This phrase, it was explained to me, is a way to polish one's heart. Living in this world, where the soot and grime accumulate, the light of God that burns bright in each person struggles to burst forth.
Polishing my heart... I traveled back to the deeper places in my brain, where childhood memories live, and pulled out the ones of helping Mom polish the silverware before a special dinner. The ornate handles required that the polish be applied by terrycloth to get into and around the swirls and coils of silver and dig out the tarnish. Then the knives, forks and spoons went into the soapy sink water to wash away the polish and tarnish. Finally, they were dried and polished with a soft cloth, becoming shining jewels.
Polishing was an activity that allowed my mom and me time simply to be together and talk. Polishing was a teaching and learning time—a visible, satisfying demonstration of the accumulation of neglect and the miraculous transformation to beauty.
Polishing my heart. As I danced and sang the unfamiliar Arabic words, I pulled out my terrycloth rag of conscience and dipped it into the polish of grace. The dance guided me deeper into the contorted, long hidden patterns of heart beauty, where I diligently worked the grace in. My thinking mind floated off as I dipped this goopy heart into soapy soul water and washed it to release the gunk.
While God and I danced and talked, I buffed the soft cloth of forgiveness around and through my heart. As the last of the music faded and my feet and song came to rest, there it was—that glowing heart that I had long ago put away in the jewelry box of memory to protect it. Not all of it was polished quite yet, but I could again recognize parts of shining hidden beauty.
I had danced my request for forgiveness, and a polished heart was my answer. God had taught me another way to examine my heart and ask for forgiveness. I learned that I never had been a pile of rubble; I had only been offered sandpaper, when all that was required was terrycloth.
May you find the right polish for your heart. May you and your Divine enjoy the companionship that comes from chatting together as you learn what cloths and soaps will work out your forgiveness. And may you be blessed with dazzling new reflections of your heart beauty.
