The nature of writing articles is very unpredictable, because in writing, what is omitted and excluded is perhaps more important than what is written.

Ideas come flowing, but the majority of them may not be worthy of being considered as good material… and so exercising discretion is critical.

This is why any creative work is unpredictable. Sometimes, we may get a few great ideas simultaneously, and yet other times, long periods of time may pass between good ideas.

And so it is absurd to come up with deadlines for creative work – or at least counterproductive and often self-defying …

But we live in the world of time and space, and we have commitments and deadlines – or as a friend of mine likes to call them, lifelines.

So what are deadlines, and how do we view them from a spiritual perspective?

As I was thinking about this, I realized that we have natural deadlines – like a mother giving birth at the end of pregnancy, or the end of the strawberry season.

And we have declared and consensual deadlines – like the end of the year, or midnight being the end of one day and the beginning of another.

And of course we have imposed deadlines, like the boss wanting a project completed by a certain time…

And self-imposed deadlines like my sending of a monthly message at the beginning of every month.

And perhaps a few other kinds.

I realized as the human race, we have perfected the art of bending and extending and manipulating and changing of deadlines – of whatever kind they are.

We tell ourselves it is OK to send the message a few days late, because we have other priorities.

We negotiate with our boss to get an extension or help on the job.

We bring in other cultures to have multiple new years, or we look at the different time zones and consider midnight in Washington instead of Cobenhagen… and of course, we induce labor to speed up the birth process, or we use greenhouses, artificial lighting and advanced irrigation to extend the strawberry season to cover the entire year.

But then it dawned on me… that all of these occur in the field of action.

Deadlines are for doings.

Deadlines focus on the action and the outcome.

They require an intentional act of will to devote the required energy to create the process that brings about the desired outcome.

Accomplishment of deadlines are a show of exercise of power …. So whether they are deadlines or lifelines, they are power-lines.

But there is another domain – the domain of being – where action takes place without the imposition of will.

Will is a mental process that has created much of our civilization – but will alone is not sufficient, or more accurately, will alone could be dangerous.

We can will our civilization into World War III, into genocide, into inequity, into subjugation and subservience, into ignorance and many other things.

However, in the domain of being, the propelling force is not will but love – where action has a natural immediacy but no urgency – where the individual is present and unburdened – where the soul is attracted and pulled, not driven or pushed.

The mother who wakes up for the fourth consecutive time in four hours in the middle of the night to nurse her newborn, does so in spite of her fatigue, and without any intentional act of will.

There is a force that draws her to this action, with immediacy, and without consideration for consequences.

The artist who is driven to create that masterpiece, in spite of hunger or lack of recognition, or in the face of fame and expectation, exercises a presence of mind that puts away all of the past and the future, as well as all of the present impositions and expectations.

The impulsive generosity that we may exercise from time to time to lend a helping hand to a stranger, to another fellow human being, is neither intentional nor does it require mental mobilization of our will power.

It is all like the water flowing spontaneously out of a spring, without any regards for the mountainside, or the ocean that may or may not be its destination.

The spring flows forth effortlessly and with immediacy, because it is a natural act for the spring.

Neither the spring, nor the artist nor the mother have a deadline – of any sort – because they are propelled and pulled by love, in the field of being.

Perhaps it would be a spiritual act to replace all deadlines, lifelines, and power-lines, with Love-Lines.

So Today, I reconcilled my Deadline...

Finally posting some of my inner thougth's, sharing with all of you, articles or let's say word's.

My hidding treasures, wich all are writing either by a meeting of a person, that meant something to me, or a situation i went true, a book or text i have been reading.

I am a deep thinker, a person that reflect upon what goes and comes toward's me, in my life.

Only way to gain the inner soul, was for me to make my own reflection, by word's..as in speak I come to less.

For some out there, I seem as a very mysterius person, hard to completly understand,but also easy to deal with.

So, as you go true my posting's today, i sincerly hope you will enjoy, and mayby even be able to understand the way I think.

More of my writing's will be added time by time..What you get today, is just a small piece of me.

Ws..Aminah

www.aminah.shiahosting.com

About 13 ago, I had the privilege of experiencing becoming a Mother  of my second son.

When he was born, as the nurses took him to the side of the room to clean him up, I went over with them. In the meantime, I was letting him grab my finger with his tiny hand.

While the nurses were doing their thing, I took a few moments to bond with him. And one of the most incredible experiences that I ever had was when I was gazing directly into his eyes.

It is true that the eyes are the windows to the soul. As I was peeking through the windows into this young soul, I saw a clarity I had never experienced before. It was not the clarity of some spiritually advanced being, but the purity of innocence.

It was as if I was looking into an untainted deep well. A vision that was not touched by thought, emotion or meaning.

A few days later, as I was recalling the experience, I thought about the concept of the "Original Sin".

And at the risk of alienating some, let me say that at first I got angry.

How could anybody even think of the idea of us being born as sinners?

How can we come to this world, with such purity and innocence, and be labeled sinners… before we even have the chance to make our first choice?

Yes… I know that some theologians and philosophers have tried to reform the concept by calling it the "Original Blessing", but as far as I was concerned, the experience was neither of sin, nor blessing.

The experience was that of innocence and purity…. A blank slate on which one could write anything… write blessings or sins… but a blank slate to begin with. The innocence transcended both sin and blessing.

I was convinced that whoever came up with the idea of the "Original Sin" either never gazed into the eyes of a newborn, or had some ulterior motive, perhaps an intention to manipulate others by creating guilt.

When I returned to my bed, I was still pondering this concept, until this morning it hit me…

It is not that we are born sinners. We are definitely born innocent and blank. But the clarity that a newborn offers is not unlike a perfect mirror that reflects whatever gazes into it.

The innocence of the baby is such that when we look into his eyes, we are either inspired by what is possible for us, and what was once ourselves… or …

Or we are confronted with an untainted reflection of our own fears, guilt, temptations, and so forth. Yet we have no way of condemning the baby for our imperfections.

And still, we do not wish to confront our own impurities. So we find comfort in passing the buck and labeling the baby – this symbol of purity – as the embodiment of the original sin.

The sad part is that our imperfections and impurities are not our original sin either. They are merely the result of the choices that we have made throughout our lives.

Our true original sin is our refusal to take responsibility for the unwanted aspects of our character and the undesirable choices we have made.

The newborn is a pure mirror – much like the rest of the world – or perhaps an amplified version of the rest of the world. Our insistence on blaming the mirror for the reflection is our Original Sin.

Aminah.alqaem.org

www.aminah.shiahosting.com

More often than not, we envy the few who are endowed with tremendous creativity. They seem to have the gift of approaching everything in a creative way. Give anything or any situation to these individuals, and with their Midas touch, they turn it into something rewarding and precious.

Habitually we think of Creative Intelligence as a possession of the chosen few - something that is way beyond ourselves.

But what really is this faculty?

Why are some people so creative and others, well... not so?

If the same Divine Intelligence created us all, and if there is any fairness and consistency in the works of Creation, then we must all be made from the same blueprint - while allowing for minor variations.

What's more, if the various spiritual traditions are fundamentally correct, then we must all be a part of the same creative principle that created us.

As such, we must all be endowed with the faculty of Intelligence, and we must all possess the ability to be creative.

With these two assumptions, we can simply conclude that we are all in possession of Creative Intelligence.

Then why is it that so few of us use it, while the majority simply obey the dictates of our circumstances, and succumb to our inertia?

Perhaps creativity is not a gift, but an attitude. Perhaps the difference between those who use it and those who don't is exactly that. Use and application of the innate gift that we are all recipients of.

But creativity is much simpler than that. It is not an attitude. It is a perspective. The creative ones approach life as a series of possibilities following each other. Whereas the rest of us look at life as events and circumstances and energies that need to be exerted, opposed, directed and managed.

The uncreative find their vitality is being sapped and drained, whereas the creative find themselves in flow.

Creativity is something as simple as going to the fridge, finding nothing there, and still coming up with a delicious dinner. A different kind of dinner than we are accustomed to, perhaps, but still a delicious one.

Creativity is going to the party, finding nobody there, and still having a great time. A different kind of activity and engagement and time perhaps, nevertheless, an enjoyable one.

And Creativity is also going head on to face the major scientific, artistic, political, or other challenges of the world, and being able to come up with a way to transcend them.

Yes... creativity is a perspective. It is the willingness to look into the emptiness while being able to identify what is possible.

Aminah.alqaem.org

www.aminah.shiahosting.com

When was the last time that one of your loved ones came up to you and with a lot of excitement said, "I just heard this guy talk about something very profound.

He was saying... such and such. Isn't that amazing?"

And you felt a wave of strange energy, as if somebody just poured a bucket of cold water over you.

You didn't know how to react, because you were thinking, "I have been trying to tell you the same thing for such a long time, but you never heard me. And now it takes a total stranger to say the same thing once, and you take it as a message for the heavens...."

While disappointed with the process, deep down you are also happy that they "finally got it", but you wished it could have been done much sooner, when you first told them.

And then, there is the other side of the coin.

When was the last time you approached one of your loved ones with considerable excitement and said, "you can't believe what I just heard. So and so was saying such and such... isn't that amazing?"

And you were waiting for them to share the same excitement at receiving this revelation, and be just as inspired and energized as yourself, but all you get is "the look".

They try very hard to be congenial, and eventually utter something benign, or even lame. Something like, "that's nice!"

So you are thinking to yourself, either they didn't get it, or it is one of those things that they just had to be there...

Why is it that we consider strangers to be bearers of heavenly inspiration and messengers of the divine?

Why is it that those closest to us very rarely - if at all - have the same impact?

And conversely, why is it that we constantly make impact on strangers and those whom we hardly know, yet when it comes to the ones we love most and have known most intimately, we can seldom make a dent?

They say everybody is a hero in somebody else's town.

This is very evident in the stories of the lives of the prophets.

Jesus was a carpenter in Nazareth, yet Christ everywhere else. Mohammed had to migrate before he was taken seriously.

Prince Siddhartha could not become Buddha until he left the Palace. And Zarathushtra made very little impact in his own hometown. Only when he got to a faraway land, did he manage to change the world of his time.

While reflecting upon this notion, I realized that it is in our nature to become familiar with what is surrounding us.

Our home becomes familiar, our town and the local streets, our workplace, they all become familiar. And after a while, we know exactly where everything is. We even know the potholes down our street.

And in the same way, our companions, those with whom we spend the most amount of time, become very familiar to us. We know exactly what they look like, and how they behave... except that they change and they generally grow to behave differently with time.

Just like the potholes down our street may be fixed and paved over, the potholes in the character of our loved ones also fill up - and perhaps some new ones are created - and the grooves in their features also change - and generally multiply with age.

But because of our familiarity, we rarely look at them with fresh eyes, and even more rarely interact with them with a fresh mind.

We take them for granted, and they take us for granted. We don't hear what they say because our ears are already full of what they would say. But we hear the voice of the stranger, because we have no preconceived notions - at least not until they open their mouth.

By the same token, our loved ones are not receptive to our wisdom, but venerate the wisdom of strangers. We try to justify it by nice spiritual platitudes such as "when the student is ready, the teacher appears". But that is mainly to convince ourselves that our wisdom was sound and we are OK.

In a way, taking someone for granted is a defense mechanism. A shield with which to protect ourselves against exposing our ignorance. If I can disregard what my loved ones say, then I am really no dumber than they are.

But why do we accept the fact that we are also taken for granted? Perhaps that too is a defense mechanism. If I am taken for granted, then the gems that I share become commonplace.

Once they are devalued to that level, or should I say, once I have allowed them to become devalued to such a level, then these gems of wisdom are no more than colored glass and bits of quartz found on any beach.

And if the gifts that I can share, are not really of that much value, then I don't have to go through the trouble of sharing them with others. And thus I have relieved myself of my human responsibility of sharing my gifts with the world.

The less I have to exert myself and go out there to give of myself, the more I can crawl back into my comfort zone. And that gives me further opportunity to shield myself, by being taken for granted even more.

What a wonderfully effective self-defense mechanism. It feeds on itself.

Except that it misses one thing. It may bring us comfort and ease, but the cost of that comfort is the loss of our humanness.

So what is the solution?

Can I force myself upon my loved ones?

Can I force them to not take me for granted?

Should I push myself upon them, over and over again, until they finally get it, and acknowledge that I have all these gems to share with them?

Of course not.

Like everything else, the solution is an inside job. The only reason others (those close to me or otherwise) may take me for granted is because I have taken myself for granted. And the only way I can stop taking myself for granted is by stopping to take others for granted.

So my only way out is to have the spirit of a child - to look at the world with fresh eyes, to hear everything with fresh ears, and to interact with everyone with a fresh mind.

So the next time we connect, if I take you for granted, don't get upset with me. Just smile at me, and wink - and I will know....

Aminah.alqaem.org

www.aminah.shiahosting.com