BOILING WITH WHITE-HOT FURY
"Well no, Rano. I'll start it at three o' clock."
Rano disappeared and I went back to my book. I had read just another two pages when I heard Rano hailing me from down below again. I went outside and asked, "What's the matter?"
She said, "Baba wants to know, will you remember his tea?"
"Yes. I'll have it started at three o'clock."
Again I returned to my book, a bit irritated this time. Ten minutes later Rano called me again. I put the book down, went out to the balcony, and said, "Yes, Rano?"
"Baba wants to make sure you haven't forgotten his tea."
"No, Rano. I haven't forgotten Baba's tea."
I went back, picked up the book and tried to begin reading again. But I was even more irritated now, and it was hard to concentrate. A short time later, Rano called again. I stiffened and walked out on the porch. Rano asked, "Charmian, Baba wants to know, have you started his tea yet?"
That did it! "Rano," I exploded, "I told you I'd start the tea at three o'clock!"
I found myself boiling with white-hot fury. The anger had come over me so quickly it was stunning. One minute I was simply irritated; the next minute rage was ringing from my toes to the top of my head. With that, I suddenly thought, "What am I doing? I love Rano!" The next moment I was swept with the intensity of that love. It was fully as strong as the fury that had preceded it only a moment before. Now I could literally feel the threads of feeling Baba was pulling out of me.
Once again, it was Baba's sweet love and acceptance that created an atmosphere that allowed such passions to come forth. And it was his love too that helped me transform them into a broader experience of love and acceptance. When the smoke cleared, I could see this.
SPREAD MY LOVE, pp. 90-91
2004 © Sufism Reoriented, Inc.