Allah (SWT), the Almighty, has no problem…
You do—lots of them.
Whether you believe or not, whether you have faith or none at all, Allah is not concerned.
You should be.
I’ve just finished reading Al-Ghazali and His Theory of the Soul—a comparative study by Mdm. Noor Shakirah Mat Akhir, a lecturer at USM. A well-thought-out and scholarly approach to the works of Imam Al-Ghazali, whose writings had previously eluded me. Having gone through this book, I now walk away with a deeper understanding of who Al-Ghazali was and what kind of wisdom lies ahead for me on this path. I found the book at the MGTF mini library—it belongs to Hasnul, I believe—and snatched it off the shelf as I sat there looking into nothingness, caught in limbo.
I won’t claim to fully comprehend it, especially the parts discussing Greek philosophers. They will, perhaps, always remain a little "Greek" to me. But the book left me with a newfound admiration for the Imam. Al-Ghazali will now be a companion in my ongoing spiritual journey.
A few days ago, my daughter and I visited the Salvation Army thrift store on Perak Road. I picked up a book to read—it was the only one that seemed to resonate with what I’m working on. Among all the magazines and books crammed into the shelves, this one stood out. It’s called New Beginnings, produced by the Brahma Kumaris World Spiritual University.
My daughter found a corduroy jacket for her prom and a few other treasures. She loves that store—her own Kedai Jimat. I paid just RM1 for the book. That’s less than a quarter in US dollars. When I told my friend Shahram, the Iranian artist, he looked up and smiled. The book, it turns out, is all about the soul. I didn’t realize it at the time I bought it—perhaps the soul chose me.
It felt almost like a divine synchronicity: reading Al-Ghazali on the soul, then stumbling upon this guide to Raja Yoga—the King of Yogas, the Royal Path. This isn’t new to me. Raja Yoga has long been part of my practice and inner discipline. I was first gifted a copy of it by “Barefooted Lizzy” when I was leaving Green Bay, Wisconsin, for Alaska. She gave it to me as a parting gift. I survived much of my Aleutian adventure by leaning into its teachings.
Some of the affirmations I memorized from Raja Yoga became my mantras, my guiding thoughts through harsh, lonely, soul-wrenching days:
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I am the Master.
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I am the master of my thoughts and consciousness.
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I am the master of my Body, Speech, and Mind.
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I am the master of environments and circumstances.
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I am the master of my Destiny... Insha’Allah.
These were my practices while living in Alaska.
I came to believe that I was the creator of my own scenario. That I had the power to change, to adapt, to walk away from what no longer served me—burning bridges behind me, again and again. I took one leap of faith too many—and look where I landed!
Still, here I am.
The Cheeseburger Buddha.
Rambling away to the world about things I hardly know, giving away free lessons on how to navigate the tail end of the Dharma Realm.
Not too bad, if you ask me.
I’ve written over 300 entries of this so-called “garbage,” and with some great pictures too. Not too bad—especially when compared to those who have little to worry about and end up becoming the Beer Barrel Buddha… or the Couch Potato Buddha.
There’s no right or wrong in who you choose to become.
A Buddha knows he is a Buddha.
He is the cobbler—a mender of broken soles (and souls).
He is the fisherman—a fisher of men.
He is the farmer—
Outstanding in his field.
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