SUFISM has never had a first exponent or a historical origin. It existed from the beginning, because man has always possessed the light which is his second nature; and light in its higher aspect may be called the knowledge of God, the divine wisdom – in fact, Sufism. Sufism has always been practiced and its messengers have been people of the heart; thus it belonged to the masters as well as to others. Tradition states that Adam was the first prophet, which shows that wisdom was already the property of the first man. There have always been some among the human race who have desired wisdom. These sought out spiritual beings in their solitude, serving them with reverence and devotion, and learning wisdom from them. Only a few could understand those spiritual beings, but many were attracted by their great personalities. They said, 'We will follow you, we will serve you, we will believe in you, we will never follow any other', and the holy ones said to them, 'My children, we bless you. Do this; do that. This is the best way to live.' And they gave their followers precepts and principles, such as might produce in them meekness and humility. In this way the religions were formed. But in the course of time the truth was lost. The tendency to dominate arose, and with it the patriotism of the community and prejudice against others; and thus wisdom was gradually lost. Religion was accepted, though with difficulty, but the evolution of the world at that time was not such as could understand the Sufis. They were mocked at, ill-treated, ridiculed; they were obliged to hide themselves from the world in the caves of the mountains and in the solitude. At the time of Christ there were Sufis among the first of those who gave heed to him, and in the time of Muhammad the Sufis on Mount Zafah were the first to respond to his cry. One of the explanations of the term Sufi is this association with Mount Zafah. Muhammad was the first to open the way for them in Arabia, and they had many followers, among them Sadik and Ali.

The works of Hazrat Pir-o-Murshid Inayat Khan are one of the great spiritual treasures of the world. At once deeply rooted in the Sufi tradition and strikingly original in insight and expression, Hazrat’s teachings remain as potent and meaningful today as they were when originally communicated a century ago, with a message for every human mind and heart, and indeed for humankind collectively. For some time the need for a new popular edition of Hazrat Inayat Khan’s collected works has been apparent. With this in view, Suluk Press now commences its series The Sufi Message of Hazrat Inayat Khan: Centennial Edition. The aim of this series is to provide the full set of Hazrat’s best-known teachings in a form that balances fidelity to his original words with sensitivity to the contemporary evolution of the English language.

Mysticism is the essence and the basis of all knowledge, science, art, philosophy, religion and literature. These all come under the heading of mysticism. When one traces the origin of medicine, which has developed into the pure science it is today, one will find that its source was in intuition. It is the mystics who have given it to the world. For instance, Avicenna, the great Persian mystic, has contributed more to medicine than any other man in the world history of medicine. We know the meaning of science to be a clear knowledge based on reason and logic; but at the same time, where did it start? Was it by reason and logic? First, there was intuition, then came reason, and finally, logic was applied to it. Furthermore, in the lower creation there are no doctors, yet the creatures are their own physicians. The animals know whether they will best be cured by standing in the sun, by bathing in a pool of water, by running in the free air, or by sitting quietly under the shade of a tree. I once knew a sensible dog who used to fast every Thursday. No doubt many people of the east would say he was an incarnation of a Brahmin; but to me, it was a puzzle how the dog knew it was Thursday! People think a mystic means a dreamer, an impractical person who has no knowledge of worldly affairs. But such a mystic I would call only half a mystic. A mystic, in the full sense of the word, must have balance. He must be as wise in worldly matters as in spiritual things. People have had many misconceptions of what a mystic is. They have called a fortune-teller a mystic, or a medium, a clairvoyant, a visionary. I do not mean that a mystic does not possess all of these qualities, but these qualities do not make a mystic. A real mystic should prove to be an inspired artist, a wonderful scientist, an influential statesman. He should be just as qualified for business, industry, social and political life as is the materially minded man. When people say to me, 'You are a mystic, I thought you would take no notice of this or that,' I do not like it. Why should I not take notice of it? I take notice of every little detail, although every little detail does not occupy my mind so much that I take notice of nothing else. It is not necessary to be unconscious of the world while being conscious of God. With our two eyes we see one vision; so we should see both aspects, God and the world, as a clear vision at the same time. It is difficult, but not impossible.

Many think that it is some deformity of the body, a curve in the spine or cavity in the brain that affects the mind. Few realize that very often the mind produces an irregularity in the spine or in the brain, thereby causing an illness. The ordinary point of view regards an illness as a physical disorder, which can be cured by means of material remedies. Then there is another point of view: that of people who think deeply and who say that by not taking notice of an illness, or by suggesting to oneself that one is well, one can be restored to health. This point of view can be exaggerated, when some people claim that illness is an illusion, that it has no existence of its own. The ordinary point of view can also be exaggerated when one thinks that medicine is the only means of cure and that thought has little to do with actual illness. Both these persons, the one who looks at it from the ordinary point of view and the other who sees from a deeper point of view, will find arguments for and against their idea. Some people go as far as to say that medicine must not be touched by those who have faith, and some affirm that an illness is as real as health. It is in the absence of illness that a person can easily call pain an illusion, but when he is suffering, then it is difficult for him to call it an illusion. The question, who is more subject to illness, a spiritual person or a material person, may be answered thus: a spiritual person who discards spiritual laws. No doubt a spiritually inclined person is supposed to have less chance of being ill, because his spirit has become harmonious through spirituality. He creates harmony and radiates it. He keeps to the realm of nature, in tune with the Infinite. Nevertheless, a spiritual person's life in the midst of the world is like the life of a fish on land. The fish is a creature of the water. Its sustenance, its joy, its happiness are in the water. A spiritual soul is made for solitude. His joy and happiness are in solitude. A spiritual person, set in the midst of the world by destiny, feels out of place, and the ever jarring influences of those around him and the continually striking impressions which disturb his finer senses, make it more likely that he will become ill than those who push their way in the crowd of the world and are ready to be pushed away.

There are three steps which lead the seeker to the altar of divine wisdom. One is philosophy, the next is psychology, and the third is mysticism. Philosophy is learned by the analysis and synthesis of all that we perceive through the five senses. Psychology is learned by the analysis and synthesis of all that we can feel in human nature and in our character, and mysticism is learned by the analysis and synthesis of the whole of life, both that which is seen and that which is unseen. Philosophy therefore is learned by the study of things, psychology is learnt by thinking, and mysticism is learned by meditation. The one who takes these three steps towards divine knowledge completes his life's study; but he omits the first or the second step, philosophy or psychology, and arrives directly at mysticism, he leaves behind some knowledge that could have helped him impart his knowledge to others. Therefore it is most essential that these threes steps be taken one after the other. The words philosophy, psychology, and mysticism should not be interpreted in the sense in which they are generally used today. By philosophy is not meant a certain philosophy. By psychology is not meant a certain system. By mysticism is not meant a certain occult science. But by philosophy is meant the knowledge of things perceived through the intelligence or intuition, by psychology the knowledge of the human character and of human nature, and by mysticism the knowledge of being.

There is a remarkable phrase in the Bible, here it says, 'Eat My flesh and drink My blood', says Christ. What does He mean by saying this? He means in the first place that what a living being loves most is his food, what he loves most he eats. It has been proved in ferocious and dreadful famines, by people eating their own children, that food is dearer than their own child. The word of Christ, therefore, 'Find out, what it is in Me that you love, which may become your nourishment, which may become your food. It is not this, My flesh and blood; this will not be sufficient to satisfy your appetite. There is another part of My being, which is in abundance and can nourish My numberless devotees. Therefore before trying to eat My flesh and blood, try to find out on what plane I really exist and what is My true being'. The lives of all the great saints show that not only their adversaries and opponents but also their near and dear friends have proved to be among their worst enemies. There is a creature which loves its mate so much that it eats it. Now as to the question: what it is that Christ speaks of as his flesh and blood. His flesh is the knowledge of God and His blood is the love of God; because it is love that has a tendency, so to speak, to excite the circulation, and it is knowledge which has the tendency to strengthen, making man firm of which flesh is the symbol. One thing without the other would be abnormal. For instance flesh without blood, or blood without flesh, both are not normal conditions. What gives normal health to the body and to the soul is flesh and blood both. In the religious custom of the sacrament of bread and wine it is this secret which is symbolically expressed.

It is never too soon in the life of a child for it to receive education. The soul of an infant is like a photographic plate which has never been exposed before, and whatever impression falls on that photographic plate covers it. No other impressions which come afterwards have the same effect. Therefore when the parents or guardians lose the opportunity of impressing an infant in its early childhood they lose the greatest opportunity. In the Orient there is a superstition that an undesirable person must not be allowed to come near an infant. If the parents or relatives see that a certain person should not be in the presence of an infant, that person is avoided, for the very reason that the infant is like a photographic plate. The soul is negative, fully responsive, and susceptible to every influence; and the first impression that falls on a soul takes root in it. In the first place an infant brings with it to the earth the spirit with which it is impressed from the angelic spheres and from the plane of the jinn; it has also inherited from the earth qualities from both its parents and of their families. After coming on earth the first impression that an infant receives is from the environment, the surroundings, from those who touch it and move and work in its surroundings. And the impression after coming to earth is so strong that very often it erases the impressions that an infant has inherited from the higher spheres, and also the heritage from its parents. This happens because the mind that has been formed of the impressions which the infant has brought from the higher spheres is not yet positive. It is just like a pot of clay which has not yet gone through the fire; it has not yet developed.

In this volume, the second of The Sufi Message of Hazrat Inayat Khan, an attempt has been made to group together most of the Sufi mystic's teaching concerning sound and music – sound as the basis of creation and music as an essential means towards spiritual development. Having been a musician of renown before he gave up his art in order to dedicate himself entirely to the Sufi Message with which he was entrusted, Inayat Khan readily followed the practice of the ancient Sufis in expressing esoteric truths in terms of sound and music. He once described this as follows: 'I gave up my music because I had received from it all that I had to receive. To serve God one must sacrifice what is dearest to one; and so I sacrificed my music. I had composed songs; I sang and played the vina; and practicing this music I arrived at a stage where I touched the Music of the Spheres. Then every soul became for me a musical note, and all life became music. Inspired by it I spoke to the people, and those who were attracted by my words listened to them, instead of listening to my songs. Now, if I do anything, it is to tune souls instead of instruments; to harmonize people instead of notes. If there is anything in my philosophy, it is the law of harmony: that one must put oneself in harmony with oneself and with others. I have found in every word a certain musical value, a melody in every thought, harmony in every feeling; and I have tried to interpret the same thing, with clear and simple words, to those who used to listen to my music. I played the vina until my heart turned into this very instrument; then I offered this instrument to the divine Musician, the only musician existing. Since then I have become His flute; and when He chooses, He plays His music. The people give me credit for this music, which in reality is not due to me but to the Musician who plays on His own instrument.'

The Sufi understands that although God is the source of all knowledge, inspiration, and guidance, yet man is the medium through which God chooses to impart His knowledge to the world. He imparts it through one who is a man in the eyes of the world, but God in his consciousness. It is the mature soul that draws blessings from the heavens, and God speaks through that soul. Although the tongue of God is busy speaking through all things, yet in order to speak to the deaf ears of many among us, it is necessary for Him to speak through the lips of man. He has done this all through the history of man, every great teacher of the past having been this Guiding Spirit living the life of God in human guise. In other words, their human guise consists of various coats worn by the same person, who appeared to be different in each. Shiva, Buddha, Rama, Krishna on the one side, Abraham, Moses, Jesus, Muhammad on the other; and many more, known or unknown to history, always one and the same person. Those who saw the person and knew Him recognized Him in whatever form or guise; those who could only see the coat went astray. To the Sufi therefore there is only one Teacher, however differently He may be named at different periods of history, and He comes constantly to awaken humanity from the slumber of this life of illusion, and to guide man onwards towards divine perfection. As the Sufi progresses in this view he recognizes his Master, not only in the holy ones, but in the wise, in the foolish, in the saint and in the sinner, and has never allowed the Master who is One alone, and the only One who can be and who ever will be, to disappear from his sight. The Persian word for Master is Murshid. The Sufi recognizes the Murshid in all beings of the world, and is ready to learn from young and old, educated and uneducated, rich and poor, without questioning from whom he learns. Then he begins to see the light of Risalat, the torch of truth which shines before him in every being and thing in the universe, thus he sees Rasul, his Divine Message Bearer, a living identity before him. Thus the Sufi sees the vision of God, the worshipped deity, in His immanence, manifest in nature, and life now becomes for him a perfect revelation both within and without.

By forehead is meant man's expression. The smiling forehead is the pleasant expression; it depends solely upon man's attitude to life. Life is the same for the saint and for Satan, and if men are different it is because of their outlook on life. The same life is turned by the one into heaven and by the other into hell. There are two attitudes: to one all is wrong, to the other all is right. Our life in the world from morning to evening is full of experiences, good and bad, which can be distinguished according to their degree. And the more we study the mystery of good and bad the more we see that there really is no such thing as good and bad. It is because of our attitude and the conditions that things seem good or bad. It is easy for an ordinary person to say what is good or bad, just or unjust – it is very difficult for a wise man. Although everyone, according to his outlook on life, turns things from bad to good and from good to bad, everyone has his own grade of evolution and reasons accordingly. Sometimes one thing is subtler than others and then it is difficult to judge. There was a time when Wagner's music was not understood, and another time when he was considered the greatest of musicians. Sometimes things are good, but our own evolution makes them less good for us. What we considered good a few years ago may not seem good at a later degree of evolution. At one time a child appreciates a doll most, later it will prefer the work of great sculptors. This proves that at every step and degree of evolution man's idea of good and bad changes. Therefore a thinker will understand that there is no such thing as right or wrong. If there is wrong, all is wrong; if there is right, all is right.