On the back cover of the 2017 May-June edition of this magazine we were reminded of the knot that binds us to the tangle we have made of human existence. Releasing the knot, one would contend, requires first an awareness of the nature of the knot, which means knowing what caused the tangle.

We are horribly aware of what is, but hardly aware of why. Your correspondent rather fears to suggest that in respect of human history, and as far as the current terrorists are   concerned, they are not even par for the course. This not an apology and is by no means a suggestion that they are anything less than undesirable, but they do have a long way to go to equal our collective bloody past. You don’t need a list.

It may be reasonable to suggest that frustration is at the root of most human folly. The terrorists are frustrated by their own need to find release from persecution perceived, but more likely a purpose for their lives. It amounts to the adoption of a system, a philosophy, a reason to be. It is often similar, in albeit psychological content, to what we often undertake in the name of “our interests.” Humans are also frustrated by the need for some of us to be rude, as in the appalling attacks of the good name of the Prophet Muhammad, which were used as an excuse to release ingrained frustrations. Should we really be aghast when we end up with a bloody nose after insulting someone? We do not discuss right or wrong because we are confronted by simply what is. Our lack of comprehension when being hit tells of an equal lack of awareness of human decency and that really means our own lack because, after all, you generally get back what you engender. The Hindus call it karma. All right, let’s tell it how it is. “Keep your dirty mouth off me, buddy, or you’re gonna get a smack in the eye.” Thus, however crass, crude or unsophisticated, that is how things stand. We must possibly consider that the human fuse is longer or shorter according to the individual. Even if so inclined, one would perhaps risk an oblique thrust against an educated, worldly wise person, but I will hesitate to walk into a black neighborhood shouting about white supremacy. This by no means supposes that people in a black neighborhood are unsophisticated, but it does suppose common sense, as opposed to being either cowardly or brave, or downright silly. Quite obviously, speaking one’s mind is often far removed from exercising common sense. To be fair, there would seem to be a need for a study about what to do with thoughts that are less than useful. The “freedom to be me” set would protest, but I am suggesting a universal creed, borrowed again from one of the mystics, of being able to do anything you like in this world, as long as you don’t hurt anybody.

Don’t think about it: only God is good.

The peoples of this world have been insulting each other since the beginning of time. Nevertheless, there must be more to the matter. History shows us that most nations have at one time or another been at the top of the pile politically, culturally, and naturally financially. The top nations were then seen to slide right on down again (Rome is the obvious example.) How come? They had it all! It is a common notion to say that wealth brings responsibility with it. But with tons of money available, decadence is a beguiling and easy option. Above all, we are bound to admit that the exhilarating, albeit disastrous, slide down is likely to be made rapid to the extent of a nation’s financial means.

One could also suggest that as far as the terrorists are concerned, they may well be running on a sort of universal “now is my time” program. The wheel of human endeavor has turned – someone has even suggested that there is a noticeable historic cycle in social change – and we are now faced with another bully thrusting to the fore. Please remember that none of the so-called advanced nations have ever succeeded without bullying, usually some other country’s indigenous peoples. This brings about frustration and an arising group urge. First comes the insult perceived, then comes the instinctive, then the planned, fight back.

Please consider that terrorists have, in one guise or another, littered the lives and existence of humans for thousands of years. The name, the cause, the flag under which they kill may have been superficially varied, but the root cause, the why, has always been the same. Humans have an appetite for anger. To be precise, anger is an appetite!

Has anyone ever investigated appetite? The mystics deal with it. The Islamic mystic, Sheikh Jilani, has pinpointed our lower instincts, for which the Arabic word is nafs. Our nafs are not merely our egos, but are somewhat akin to the appetites we attach to our lower impulses. Am I splitting hairs, here? Nevertheless, whether from the Arabic or otherwise, nafs, our lower impulses, are universal one way or another to all of humanity.

The ego is indeed pure until it acquires a less than useful appetite. Our motivating forces (often animal or material in nature) may well be necessary for navigating our daily lives, but there are few among us able to use them under the governance of a human attitude, read God’s guidance. Nevertheless, it may seem to be confusing the issue somewhat to suggest that our lower impulses are also needed to get out of bed in the morning with a purpose. In other words, an ego is little more than a mechanical function that has somehow acquired enormous clout in the minds of humans. The ego is very useful for undertaking work, for getting you to the train on time, for making money, but not for using money for matters of detriment. Such as having a war supported by a war industry. Thus, doing what you truly feel guided to do and nothing else is demonstrably tricky. Your mind will always find a reason for you to indulge in your appetite for sex, drugs and… (ok, let’s keep rock ‘n’ roll), the world, the world. One of the problems arising when discussing ego is that it is loaded with connotation. Everyone will tell you that egoism is bad, but that is not true! It is what you do with your ego that is often out of context. That’s the point, it is the notion of what you do that is of the essence. The big idea, of course, is to keep your self separate from your ego. In other words: my ego, my servant, and not the other way round. Moreover, my mind, my servant, and not the other way round, would suggest relegating the mind to its proper position within the human frame. This perhaps sounds like a good idea, on paper, and one should be able to exercise free will to undertake it. The problem is that not many wills on this earth are actually free. (Ask any parent struggling to put a child through school.) There always appear to be the add-ons, coloration engendered by experience. The Hindu maintains that “…to live life according to experience is the most bitter of ways.” Another mystic has also said that people make most mistakes when feeling happy. That may sound weird, and this writer apologizes for not offering an example. I would need a month on a desert island to figure that one out.

Can we envisage “my mind, my servant”? A mind that serves and does not lead? A humble mind is a rarity, of course. A mind denying its self for most of us would be, well, unthinkable. This writer asks forgiveness for adding sophistry; it is a writer’s test of faith. But it does mean that the true human self should be, but rarely is, separate from a person’s motivating forces. Hence inner conflict.

It has been suggested that to worship God one must make neutral the effects of the heart and the mind. This emptying of worldly influences, which are actually necessary for living in the world, for a period of worship means permitting God to take over. With the heart and mind in neutral, the nafs, our lower motivating forces, are in abeyance. At the finish of worship, the nafs will again thrust to the fore, often with a vengeance. Five times daily in prayer is a constant return to God. Then by the grace of God we may wish to consider the forces within us as they really are. It must be of great value to be able to dissociate ourselves – achieve distance – from our lower forces, get them into focus but not to eradicate them because one may never get off one’s desert island. One may also meditate at lofty Himalayan heights and even “shake” the hand of God, but would be incapable of coming down to the valley where human life goes on.

Our lower motivating forces should be – in fact are – the instruments given at our disposal for work, for undertaking science, for example, for feeding ourselves and our families, thus, for dealing with our worldly responsibilities. Many persons of an ascetic leaning have removed themselves from “the world” in an endeavor to subdue their lower forces. Indeed, Muhammad went to his cave, Jesus went into the desert for forty days and forty nights. Their motivating instinct, however, was submission, for receiving and not conceiving. After all, can we really be wiser than God? These persons then returned to the world to assist the rest of humankind. This writer remembers the story of a Buddhist monk who had received nirvana, after which he returned to the marketplace, the world, to serve humanity. In its simplest form it was all about knowing what makes people suffer, what makes people afraid, what makes people turn to their lower instincts for answers and then makes them fight. The German language offers Existenzangst, which is a good a word as any for describing the root of the human condition.

Jesus returned knowing what makes people be the way they are, Muhammad, too, and he was reported to have cried out in anguish at his knowing. The Buddha came to his realization of what makes people unhappy, which was, of course, desire.

The Islamic tradition leans, quite rightly I believe, on the sciences – the use of the mind to serve for the betterment of human existence. It is not a mystical matter, but it is engendered by a mystical instinct. First the realization, then the serving. Moreover, using the mind to cultivate a garden, harness solar energy, or simply attending to one’s given profession could reasonably be suggested as being God’s preferred way of keeping us out of trouble. Those of theological persuasion may well suggest that one is unable to enter through the gates of heaven through works. This writer would contend, however, that enterprise is not the real meaning of work, or works. It may be reasonable to suggest that anything undertaken through the designs of God has already been blessed, however mundane it may appear. Philosophers, writers in general and those who would delve into higher things are naturally at risk. It is dangerous terrain, often a tightrope walk over a yawning chasm engendered by the heart and the mind, which amounts to the most sophisticated double act to ever enter upon the stage of human endeavor. This writer has also been in the presence of a mystic who once maintained that he had no real knowledge of what he was about to say (lecture notes would be anathema). His inspiration was from above.

Thus, after our daily prayers we return to the world on a hopefully even keel. Our appetites, which, let’s face it, are currently raging around the planet, are for a while governed by a higher force.

It has been suggested – and don’t get me wrong here – that prayer changes nothing. Prayer changes people and people change things. This writer is inclined to equate prayer with a spontaneously arising feeling of hope for betterment in the face of trouble. Thus, to hope for betterment, and not wish to kill, is in itself grace.

The only way to surrender to God, it seems, is to place one’s lower motivating forces in abeyance for a while. But never, ever, try to eradicate them.

This writer finds himself, at long last, reading James Michener’s Iberia. At the beginning of the book Michener tells us about duende (grace recognized) and shibui (aesthetic rightness). Both explanations are approximations. My leaning for such things, my temperament, brought on enthusiasm. The promising beginning was brief, however, and Mr. Michener then takes the reader through 800 pages of small print dealing mostly with the history, art and culture of the Iberian peninsula. Mr. Michener tells us what is or was, but not why.

Reductionist, their next-door neighbor, was editor-in-chief of a highly recognized magazine. He was kind of older, and so had rather a fatherly attitude toward them. Not surprisingly, each of the three writers had one thing in mind-to catch the attention of their next-door neighbor, which was a really tough job. Having seen thousands of different articles in his life, and still editing several of them every day, Reductionist had become very good at categorizing ideas and pieces of writing. So, it was really difficult, if not impossible, to come up with something that he would call original. This state of Reductionist caused competition, and sometimes jealous actions, among the three writers.

Reductionist used to invite his neighbors to accompany him whenever he was invited to a program related to writing. Rational especially liked them because he learned new things from different people. Romantic loved staying alone, but doing this in different settings opened ways for new inspiration. Regular, on the other hand, was not very thrilled at the idea of traveling because it disturbed his daily schedule. But he thought it was OK being with friends as part of a bigger schedule that spans a larger time.

At the end of one of those trips, they were traveling back home on a dark and rainy night. As they covered each mile of the road, they talked about various topics. After some random ones, they started talking about a topic that really interested all of them: writing. They discussed different issues surrounding the main idea of writing, such as how to start writing, how to write well, how to make your words carry meanings that would satisfy the mind and the heart, and so on. When it came to the issue of inspiration and new ideas, Romantic told a short story:

“A farmer had two fields. He started cultivating both. After the first season, he saw that one of the lands was yielding produce but the other one didn’t. Several consecutive trials only confirmed the quality of the fertile one. The more trials the farmer made, the faster he received the produce and the more he reaped. Then the farmer decided not to use the barren field anymore.

“The inspirations are gifts from God. He plants seeds in our hearts in that way. People who value and pay due respect to inspiration are like the fertile field in the story. The farmer enjoys the produce and uses that field more. People who ignore inspiration or postpone dealing with it are the barren land. They don’t foster the seed, and the farmer ceases using them.”

After the apt parable, everybody was submerged in silent thought for a while. Then Romantic suggested, “Why don’t we pull over and talk about this all together with peace of mind? I’m really enjoying this.” But Rational did not share her perspective: “You know, I really would love to, but we have a long way to go. It is not wise to stop and forget about our trip. What are you going to do when we are all sleepy and not able to continue on the way? And what is wrong with talking while traveling, anyway?”

At the words of Rational, Romantic started crying: “You never listen to me; you always want me to forget my heart. I feel like I am among friends who are like dead statues.” Irritated by the words of Romantic, Regular took a turn, but talked in a way so as to manage the feelings of everybody: “Hey, umm… I think focusing on the discussion is a good idea, but it is not what we usually do. We are not near a lake or on top of a hill. It is neither sunset nor nighttime in a café. So, it may be better to wait until tomorrow.” Although these words were as neutral as they could be, Romantic still felt neglected: “I don’t think you are going to give yourselves to the matter if we keep going and talking at the same time. Instead, you are going to exploit and consume this lovely talk as a means to keep awake. This is a clear betrayal; it is hypocrisy toward your heart.”

“Wait a minute. I don’t think being wise is the same thing as hypocrisy. Do you have a really good reason to forget about everything else for the sake of this topic? I mean, what makes this topic so important that you want us all to sacrifice everything for it?” rebutted Rational.

Romantic could not answer this question, and turned her face outward into the darkness veiling the fresh green of the trees. She thought, “I am just like those trees and flowers that suffer from not being able to display their beauty because of the darkness.”

Reductionist, who was driving while listening to all the talk, said, “What is it that you are aiming to get from this talk, whether we do it now or later? I don’t want to be discouraging here, but isn’t this another hay-fire that is going to give a burst of heat and light, but will prove ordinary and transient in the end? This is just another emotion-provoking breeze about inspiration. I have experienced several of those, and yet here comes another. What difference is this going to make when we already have thousands of them out there? What is the point in discovering America over and over?”

Hearing all these arguments, Romantic, Rational and Regular all shut their mouths. Although the three roommates wanted to talk about the new perspective that Romantic had presented, their dispute about how to do it had weakened them in the face of Reductionist’s arguments. Nobody could say a word after Reductionist had spoken, and silence covered the quartet like the night.

Although she had been upset by the rest of the group, Romantic was still awake and happy in her mind. She decided to daydream about previous inspirations she had received. That way, she lived again the exhilaration and joy that came along with them. Triggered by that energy, Romantic gave a giggle that disrupted the increasing weight of the dark and silence. Rational, who was sorry to have upset Romantic, used this as an opportunity: “I have an idea. By going slower, we can sincerely concentrate on each other and on Romantic’s inspirations. That way, we can convert our trip into a journey toward the making of an article.” This suggestion triggered Regular to say: “Yeah, depressed nights, too, are part of our custom for in-depth talks.” Now everybody was waiting for Reductionist to approve the idea. Reductionist first slowed down. The reduction of the noise from the engine strengthened the silence. In the tense atmosphere, Reductionist laughed like a thunderclap, and said, “I am going to tell you guys a little story. A writer had three pens. He picked the first one and wrote an article with it. After finishing it, the pen said, ‘I wrote this article for you. Do you like it?’ The writer smiled back and said, ‘Yes, thank you.’ Then the writer put that pen in his office so that it could do things for him. Another day, the writer used the second pen to write a piece. After he finished it, the pen turned to him and said, ‘I wrote what you told me. Do you like it?’ The writer smiled back and said, ‘Yes, thank you.’ Then the writer put that pen in his bag so that it would write things as he wanted. And finally the writer used his third pen to write another article. After finishing it, the pen turned to him with a smile and said, ‘Thank you for using me.’ The writer smiled back at the third pen and put it in his pocket right next to his heart. He carried it everywhere he went, and whenever he had an original idea, he welcomed it with the help of his third pen.”

By that time, the rain outside had turned into a rain of smiles inside the car. Motivated by the unexpected story Reductionist had told, everybody engaged in an effort to welcome the inspiration that came through the one next to the heart. Romantic was not late taking her turn: “You know, for everything there is a season. You have to sow your seeds in the fall and wait until summer to reap. If you sow any time else, you not only waste your time but also lose your seeds. So, I guess the best time to work on an idea is when it first descends from the heavens to your heart.”

Both Regular and Rational looked at Romantic with wide open eyes. Regular said, “You have an important point there.”

“That is absolutely right,” concluded Rational.

Seth Mette has a PhD in Aerospace Engineering and is currently working as a postdoctoral fellow at West Virginia University. He has a special interest in psychological fiction.