A Life's Journey

In these days many Muslims are either in the last stage of getting ready or already on their way to Makkah for the hajj, the great pilgrimage. There are millions of men and women every year who go on this journey, perhaps no longer "on foot and on any lean camel" but rather by any available aeroplane. They come together in order to encounter the Owner of the House around which life revolves, to encounter each other as they come from all continents, and to encounter themselves, for "in as much as you know yourself, you know your Creator and Sustainer."

Even in an age of intercontinental flights most Muslims are happy if they can afford this most important journey once in a lifetime. It needs a careful preparation.

As with any other journey there is, of course, the practical side. There is the usual procedure to book a ticket and accomodation and to make sure that passport and visas are up to date. Then you will need suitable clothes. Well, for the hajj rituals themselves there are rules: men wear two unsown white sheets and women wear clothes that cover them appropriately, preferrably white. But otherwise it is wise to think about the matter carefully because the climate is probably different from what you are used to: it can be very hot in summer but now that hajj is in winter you should know that, although days can be hot, nights can be very cold. At the same time, you would not like to burden yourself with too much luggage. Forget about cosmetics: this is about being rather than appearance.

But in the case of the hajj, the question of what to take and what to leave what to leave also has another dimension. It is not appropriate to leave unpaid debts - to the extent that if you find yourself confronted with the choice between paying your debts and performing the hajj, paying debts has priority. Nor does the hajj provide a possibility to run away from unfulfilled obligations. Remember that even of you try to escape you always take yourself with you, wherever you go. Instead, you should make sure you say goodbye before you leave, at least to family, relatives, friends and collegues but especially to people you do not get along with very well. Perhaps this is a chance to reconclile or improve the relationship. Grudges or pricks of conscience can be a troublesome piece of luggage. After all, the hajj is about taking stock in between of how your life went, a miniature Day of Judgement as it were. It is a unique chance to get things straightened out with oneself.

In fact, the white clothes that the pilgrims wear are basically the same as the clothes Muslims are buried in, and when you stand at Arafat with all thoses other men and women in their white garments you feel reminded of the Day of Resurrection. Thus, the hajj is a preliminary end and as such also a new beginning: after taking account, the pilgrim has reached the starting point for a new life, marked by sacrificing a sheep or goat to share the meat with the poor and by cutting one's hair the way it is done when a new baby is born.

It is no coincidence that it is the experience of Abraham and his family that most of the hajj rituals are focussing on. Abraham left his home - both in the sense that he left his father's homely tradition in search of the One behind the phenomena of creation and eventually became Its friend, and in the more well-known sense that he left his father's house and his home country to spend his life as a traveller. The origins of the city of Makkah itself go back to a traveller's experience: he had to leave his second wife and baby son in this barren valley in search of water. This is what men and women pilgrims bring to mind when, among other rituals, they run between the hills of Safa and Marwa, remembering their ancestor Hagar looking and praying for help, torn between fear and hope, until she found a well of water next to the baby - and aren't we running about in life until we find the source of our support so near to us? Eventually Abraham and his son Ismail built the Ka'bah that, according to tradition, is the oldest house built for the worship of the One God. An empty cubic building at the centre of the Muslim world, it is a symbol for the human heart that should be empty of idols in order to become the House of the One. The point is not to pray inside but to walk around it seven times corresponding to the seven phases of life, keeping in mind that life does not revolve around ourselves but rather we circle around the Source of all Being, rubbing shoulders with each other and being considerate of each other while making an effort to control our impatience. The circumambulation is concluded with a prayer at the place where, according to tradition, Abraham stood to pray after completing the construction work when he dedicated the building, but the point is to remind us that, besides being a point in geography, the "Maqâm Ibrahîm", Abraham's standpoint is an attitude of the heart that is essential for sincere prayer.

Where, then, are the fine dividing lines between performing a ritual, reexperiencing something that was handed down from the past, and a completely new experience? Is the hajj the "journey of a lifetime"? Or isn't rather human life in that sense a journey and a pilgrimage through a variety of traveller's experiences to the ultimate encounter with the Owner of the House?

God, make this journey of ours easy and shorten its distance for us.
God, You are the Companion on the journey and take our place looking after our families.
God, I seek Your protection from the difficulties of the journey and from bad experiences and from a bad return to property, family and children,
and I seek Your help and assistance for a successful and blessed journey and good experiences and a return to property, family and children in peace and security.

The supplication is a traditional traveller's prayer.

(c) Halima Krausen, 2006