Personal Translation

"Thou? Thy? Who uses these words anymore? Why don't we use normal language in the Writings?"

Ah, yes, I hear your complaint, dear Reader, and it is one that I hear quite often. It's one that bothered me for a while, too. "Why do we use the olde English?"

Well, as you know, this is nothing official, just my own thoughts on the subject, so take them or leave them, as you will. And just so you know, I'm going to begin with my thoughts about the why of it, and then add in some thoughts about what we can do.

* * * * *

First, I believe that it has to do with maintaining the exalted language of the Writings, and helping make sure that we don't take them for granted. What I mean by that is that they are not written in the common vernacular because they are not common. By having an "exalted" language, we help set them apart from the norm.

This is important because, in general, we seem to have lost our sense of respect. We have tried so hard to make everyone equal that we forget the natural differences between people. We try to think of everyone as the same, as opposed to truly equal with all of our differences. Uniformity instead of true diversity. This has tended to mean, these days, that instead of respecting the expert's opinion, we treat it the same as the layperson's. Of course, we can all see where that leads, what with the whole climate change and vaccine questions, just to name a couple.

By keeping the writings in the exalted language, we help set them apart. Oh, and that means keeping them separate from, say, my own writings. When you read what I write, you can immediately tell what is my own and when I am quoting. The difference is staggering, and not just in the quality of what is being said.

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Second, they are exalted in the original languages in which they were written. Although I don't read Persian, Arabic, or Turkish, I have been told many times that the style in which they are written is quite different from the spoken language. In other words, I wouldn't necessarily try to use them to learn the language, for I'd likely sound very pompous. "How art thou on this fine and beauteous morning?" Nope. I would either sound like pig-headed jerk, or like a bad renaissance faire reject.

* * *

Third... Well, let's just stick with those two.

* * * * *

"But I still have a hard time reading them."

I get it. I really do. For the longest time I had a horrible time trying to read Baha'u'llah's writings. The language barrier was just too great for me.

So what did I do?

Simple. I made them readable to me.

"How?" Great question. I'm glad you asked.

First, I made a dictionary to ease in my own personal translation so that I could get used to it. For example:

Thou - You
Thee - You
Thy - Your
Lovest - Love
Saith - Said
Knoweth - Knows
Any verb ending in -eth - Same verb ending in -s

You get the idea?

So if the text reads, "If thou lovest me, turn away from thyself", I would read it as "If you love me, turn away from yourself". I got the idea, but it sure didn't sound as good.

Some Baha'is in the past have said to me that this is not acceptable, and to them, I just say "poppycock". I'm not making an official translation, but just one for myself. I was making it comprehensible to me until I was able to read it in the way the Guardian translated it. After all, Baha'u'llah said, "reading, without understanding, is of no abiding profit unto man". So why wouldn't I make it readable to myself? After all, that's why the Guardian gave us these translations, isn't it? So that we could understand them in our own language. The trick, though, was not to stop with my own version, but to make sure that I was using it as a tool to be able to read it more clearly in the English translation.

* * *

Second, I would edit out the "floral" language so that I could see the just the main point of the sentence. For example, in the first paragraph from Shoghi Effendi's book, The World Order of Baha'u'llah, we read the following sentence:

"I have been acquainted by the perusal of your latest communications with the nature of the doubts that have been publicly expressed, by one who is wholly misinformed as to the true precepts of the Cause, regarding the validity of institutions that stand inextricably interwoven with the Faith of Bahá’u’lláh."

Well, that's quite the mouthful. And if you're not that good at reading, it can be a bit overwhelming. To make it easier for me to begin to understand it, I edited it down to the following:

"...I have been acquainted... with the nature of the doubts... regarding the validity of institutions..."

Now I have a starting point upon which I can build my understanding of the rest of the sentence.

There are many times when I still do this. Whether it's the Kitab-i-Iqan, or Gleanings from the Writings of Baha'u'llah, or pretty much anything from Shoghi Effendi, I still sometimes get lost in the overall language of a long sentence, like this one, and have to pare it back to its essence. Once I can wrap my mind around the basics of what is being said, then I can go back and try to pick up more of the details, or nuances.

* * *

Third, I make it applicable to me.

While it would be easy to say that it is all applicable, that is not actually true for many people. I mean, they don't feel that it applies to them. For example, I know many women, my wife being one, who started reading the Hidden Words with "O Daughter of Man". They have said that it just means that much more to them. It becomes more personal. They can relate to "daughter", but have a more difficult time relating to "son".

Sure. Why not? That's called "personal interpretation".

There's also that infamous prayer amongst 12 year-old boys, in which the reader dedicates "that which is in my womb" to God. When I read that one, I read it as dedicating that which I am creating from the womb of my mind or imagination, to God.

I make it personal to me.

* * * * *

All of this is to say that the Writings can be difficult to read, what with the olde English and the floral language, not to mention some of the concepts. But if we take to the time to make it readable for ourselves, then we will find that we can understand the original texts a lot more readily.

Some have said that trying to read the Writings gives them a headache, and I know that to be true, for I was one of them. I realized, however, that it was because I was exercising a muscle that I was not used to using. I was so used to reading with ease, that when I was challenged by the Writings, it was like going to the gym and doing a new workout routine. I had to build up to it. At first, my muscles would ache, but as I did it more and more, I became accustomed to it, and could then do even more.

So, dear Reader, please don't give up. And don't let anyone else tell you that you need to read the Writings in a particular way. Make them your own. Read them for yourself. Get what you can out of them. And I guarantee that as you do this, you will find your capacity increasing, and you will get even more out of them later.

Sunrise

Imagine waking up early one morning, going downstairs, making yourself a cup of tea or coffee, stepping outside and watching the most amazing sunrise over a lake. A beautiful image, isn't it? And you can do it every morning. It never gets boring, does it? The beauty of today's sunrise doesn't diminish the beauty of yesterday's. It doesn't mean tomorrow's will be any less. What a pleasant way to begin your day.

Ok, let's backtrack a second and look at this with a slight twist. Suppose you only live for a single hour.

Imagine you are living your whole life being told about this amazing sunrise from yesterday morning. Just a few were awake to actually see it, but they made sure to share the story of its beauty with everyone.

It was such a special event that everybody says that all of history led to that singular sunrise, and the entire future will look back on it in wonder and delight. You're told that the sun will rise again, but it's been so many countless generations that it almost seems an empty promise. Most no longer believe it as anything more than a fairy tale about some distant time in the future.

It's nice to be made aware that the sun had risen. It gives a sense of comfort to know that such wonders have occurred in the world. But to me, this story, the way it is told through the generations, is also a bit depressing. I mean, sure, there's the faint hope that someday, somewhere, there might be another sunrise, but the fact that it all revolves around one? There's something sad and lonely about that.

No, what really gives me joy is to know that the sun will rise every morning. Without fail. We may see it, or we may not. It doesn't matter. Just knowing it is a comfort to my swiftly fleeting hour-long life.

* * * * *

What I love about this image is that it describes so well religious thought. So many believe that the Great Teacher only came once. They believe that this sunrise only occurred once.

They don't see the other days.

And for some reason they believe that if there is more than one, it somehow lessens any others, never understanding that sunrise is always a beautiful, magical, and even miraculous event.

Hope

Hope is such a strange thing.

Some think of it as the ultimate curse from Pandora's Box, while for others it is "born when all is forlorn". Some see it as the light amidst the darkness, others as the winter's promise of spring. Hope is what encourages the farmer to plant the seed, the artist to keep creating, and the recognition that, despite any present difficulties, the future will keep on advancing.

Hope is the reality that arises from understanding the dynamic of crisis and victory. "Three steps forward, two steps back" is not just a figure of speech, but a reality of how we advance.

When I was watching my son growing up, I noticed a strange phenomenon. He was only a year or two old when I noticed it. He would eat and eat and eat, growing pudgier every single day. And then, just when I began to be even the least bit concerned, he would stop. He would only nibble at his food, peck at his plate, for days on end. And then, without fail, he would stretch, his body growing longer by the hour. I felt as if I could actually see him growing. His growth was not linear. Very little in nature is. His growth was like the movement of an inchworm. Out then up, then out, then up.

This is what happens to seeds, too. They may lie dormant throughout the cold winter months, but then with the melting snows and torrential spring rains, they soak up the water. To all outward appearances, nothing may be happening, except a slight swelling as they become more water logged, but what is happening inside is little short of a miracle. Cells are forming, growing, developing. Things are becoming tighter and tighter, ever more cramped within that seedcase until suddenly, one day, it becomes too much and a tiny sprout bursts forth.

Many have commented on the way a caterpillar develops into a butterfly, entering the cocoon, dissolving into a living liquid, and then bursting forth in its beauty. This, too, is an outward expression of hope. It is a recognition of the trials we must undergo for transformative progress.

From a child growing to a seed sprouting to a butterfly emerging from a cocoon, they are all part of that cycle that revolves around hope.

But what about the rest of the world? How can we find hope in a world riddled with war and strife?

For me, what helps is a basic understanding of, oh, I don't know, physics? Nature? Something like that. I mean, think about pressure. A pressure cooker works because the lid is sealed on tight. If you keep applying heat, it will eventually explode. But that's not the end of it. After that violent moment, things are actually calm and peaceful in the kitchen again. Oh, sure, you have a mess to clean up, but the danger of the explosion has passed.

To me, this is just like what happens when you have oppression. When a government, a corporate administration, or perhaps even an abusive husband in a family, applies oppressive tactics, they have to keep applying it in greater and greater amounts. A tyrannical government has to keep applying more pressure to keep its citizens in check. As soon as they release it, the people will quite naturally rise up against them. Fear is often the motivator used to keep people in the situation. This is why a large number of women left their abusive relationships once they were allowed to open bank accounts. The economic pressures used to keep them subjugated were removed.

But it is impossible to keep applying greater amounts of pressure.

This is why corrupt regimes must, inevitably, fail. They run out of resources merely trying to keep the people subjugated.

Take some of the major corporations that are abusing their workers. They keep finding ways to raise prices, lower wages, and take greater profits for their shareholders. Of course, this doesn't apply to every corporation out there, but enough to make the point. Eventually the workers are unable to make a living, for prices have soared far beyond what they can afford on their meager wages. They certainly cannot afford to buy the products that are being produced. And when they are left with no choice, when the fear of losing their job pales in comparison to the fear of not being able to buy groceries, or much needed medicines, they have nothing left to lose. They will rise up in protest.

And just like the pressure cooker, there will be the very real danger of people getting hurt, or even killed. And again, just like the pressure cooker, there will be a mess to clean up afterwards. But once that work is finished, we can continue with the business of building a better world.

The hope that I find in the world is not blind to the very real dangers we are facing. I am not ignorant of the difficulties we are facing as a human race. Nor am I unaware of the tremendous suffering that is happening in so many places.

Instead, my hope is based on the fact that these sufferings and trials are not sustainable.

If I live in an area prone to flooding, I will help set up the sandbags to protect the community. And I will also make sure I have a mop to clean up the mess afterwards, for I know that the floodwaters will eventually recede. And all the while I will continue to teach the children and spread hope. The work of development does not stop just because we are putting out fires. The farmer's seeds still need to be planted so that we don't starve after we get back on course.

Just because there are some bad things happening today, it doesn't mean that everything will end. Yes, people will get hurt, and we do need to comfort and care for them. Yes, there will be some destruction, and we will need to clean it up and rebuild. But that doesn't mean we will forget all we have learned.

Three steps forward, two steps back.

Hope, as we were recently told by the Universal House of Justice, is "a scarce and precious resource". And by recognizing the dynamics that are truly in play, not the empty rhetoric of fear-mongers who are merely out for personal gain, we can see that we are moving toward a very beautiful future.

Today is like spring, in more ways than one. The old icy structures that may have once captivated us with their sparkling beauty are melting around us. Those who would try to rebuild those castles of snow are fighting against the very turning of the seasons. And all that mess and muck that is being exposed around us? They are the very elements that are needed for those seeds to grow into the flowers of summer.

No matter which metaphor I use, no matter where I turn, no matter what catches my eye, I see the same patterns everywhere. Sure, the immediate future may be messy, and I may need to clean my shoes when I step inside, but the future is bright. Very bright.

And I hope that we can walk into it together.

Learning History

My wife and I had a wonderful conversation over lunch today. Oh, we went to a little Lebanese restaurant and had what was arguably the best falafel and schwarma we've had in many a year. Well, she had the falafel. I had the shwarma.

Anyways, we got to talking about Baha'i books we've read together over the years, and I happened to mention how I had begun my foray into Baha'i history shortly after declaring. Like, within the hour. I had run into Javidukht Khadem, widow of the Hand of the Cause (literally run into her), and she enrolled me in a deepeing class on the history of the Faith.

Well, it was a bit over my head. I mean, the reading list included Dawn-Breakers, God Passes By, Baha'u'llah: King of Glory, and quite a few more fairly hefty tomes, too. As I knew nothing about Baha'i history or Iran, it was way beyond me. As in completely incomprehensible.

That was when I decided to take a stab at it on my own. Read at my own pace. Struggle with my own questions and ask people I knew in the community about their understanding on certain details. And then I read what I could when I could.

Since I had all the books already, including the full trilogy from Balyuzi, I decided to begin there. Oh, but I didn't begin with the first book, The Bab. I began with the last one, 'Abdu'l-Baha.

And my wife asked me why.

"Doesn't it make more sense to begin at the beginning?"

It probably does, but so much of it was way beyond my frame of reference.

'Abdu'l-Baha, though? Him I could relate to. He visited North America. He laid the foundation stone at the Temple. He took a taxi cab, for crying out loud. I knew these things already. I could relate.

And thus my adventure began.

It also turned out to be the best way for me to start.

As you know, 'Abdu'l-Baha was born in 1844, and grew up along with the Faith. Those early chapters talked about the most important Babis in history, those absolutely-gotta-know-these-names names. Quddus, Mulla Husayn. Tahirih. Vahid. And a few others to boot. I'd already heard of them, so I could follow the story more easily. And by the time it reached the end, I was able to grasp the overall arc of His life, His time in history, and even relate it to people I actually knew. I was hooked, not overwhelmed.

Then I began to read Baha'u'llah: King of Glory. It started with His childhood, and quickly got into His time as a Babi. It reminded me of those absolutely-gotta-know-these-names names, and introduced a whole whack of really-good-to-know-names names. Since I already knew the first group, the second was a bit easier to remember. It then filled in a lot of gaps that were hinted at in the book on 'Abdu'l-Baha.

By the time I got to reading The Bab, I was familiar with the absolutely-gotta-know-these-names names, the really-good-to-know-names names, and was ready for all the other names there. Sure there was quite a bit that was new, but I had a framework on which to hang it. I had my skeleton and was ready to add the musculature and the rest of the body.

After that, the Dawn-Breakers was much easier, so much more approachable.

It's funny, though. We often teach these things in chronological order, even though for many of us it is overwhelming. And honestly, that's not how children learn. We learn what's most important first. We learn the overall structure before learning all the details.

As my wife said, a child learns their bedroom first. Then they learn the rest of the house. After that, they learn their neighbourhood, before even thinking about the city, their country, or the rest of the world.

I began my studies of Baha'i history by what was relatable, and only from there was I able to read the rest of it.

Now, it is my passion. I read everything I can get my hands on when it comes to Baha'i history, and can relate it quite easily to where we are in world history.

And while I am eternally grateful to Mrs Khadem for getting me started, I am also grateful that I was able to venture off on my own and discover it in a way that was approachable to me.

A Matter of Perspective and Freewill

I recently saw a post online in which someone quoted a doctor who said, "There are two kinds of cardiologists: vegans and those who haven't read the data." Now, this may seem like a fairly benign statement about science, but think about the implications of it. It essentially says "I'm right, and everyone else is wrong." It doesn't take into account all the various other studies that have shown that not all humans require the same diet, nor do all people process the various fats in the same way. It is, in the end, highly condemnatory of anyone who is not a vegan.

What I found even more sad, though, was that the person who posted it then went on to use some of the numerous quotes in which the Master encouraged a vegetarian diet.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love those quotes, and I truly look forward to a time when we understand our dietary needs better and can sustain a vegetarian diet in a more sustainable and healthy manner. But that's just not the case for now.

The Master Himself has many other quotes about why we should not all be vegetarian at this time. There are countless of stories of Pilgrims and visitors at the World Centre who were surprised that the Master ensured there were eggs, for example, available at breakfast for them. The story of Curtis Kelsey, for one, springs immediately to mind.

But really, all of this is just an introduction to say that any time someone espouses the view that they are right and anyone who disagrees with them is wrong, they are treading on very thin ice. The egotism that provokes such a perspective is highly dangerous.

It is so important to be able to distinguish those things that are facts from those that are just our own opinion.

For example, "2 + 2 = 4" is a mathematical fact, given our definitions of 2, 4, +, and =.

I would venture to say that it is also a fact that anything taken beyond the bounds of moderation will be dangerous, whether it is the meat, exercise, work, coffee, or whatever. We must always strive to find balance in our lives. And while any of these things can be good in moderation, indulging in them too much can be detrimental. Baha'u'llah Himself says, "Whatsoever passeth beyond the limits of moderation will cease to exert a beneficial influence." He even goes on to add, "Consider for instance such things as liberty, civilization and the like. However much men of understanding may favorably regard them, they will, if carried to excess, exercise a pernicious influence upon men."

Being a vegetarian, or even a vegan, is a good thing. There is no doubt about it. But if you are an Inuit living in the Arctic, good luck with that.

To try and impose one's own perspective on another, though, is never a good thing. We should not do it. Baha'u'llah never did it. God, Himself, gave us free-will, so we can look at that as the prime example for not trying to deny it to others.

In the past I have talked about the story of Baha'u'llah as He was being led to the Siyah-Chal. There is the famous, or perhaps infamous, incident, of His encounter with the old woman who wanted to throw a rock in His face. He stopped the guards and reportedly said, "Suffer not this woman to be disappointed, deny her not what she regards as a meritorious act in the sight of God." Think about just how highly He must have valued her freedom of will to allow her to choose even in this situation.

Now go back to the original statement of that cardiologist. You see the difference?

I would highly encourage people to read the literature, and come to their own conclusions. The very notion that if you don't come to the same conclusion as he does then there must be something wrong with you does not sit well with me, and merely turns people away from even investigating. 

Oh, and again, please don't misunderstand me. I am only using vegans as my example because of what prompted this whole article. There are many other groups or statements I could have chosen instead.

Now, the counterpoint to this, to help redeem them as a group, is when it comes to hunting. Sure, there are those out there who condemn anyone at all who hunts. But there was a video post on social media recently from an Indigenous man who showed how he goes about fishing to get food for his community. He spoke very beautifully about respect, sustainability, and all sorts of spiritual matters.

As you can imagine, a number of people didn't care. They rose up to condemn him for taking the life of those animals.

But what really touched my heart were the vegans who arose to his defense. They praised his methods, his awareness, his sensitivities. They freely admitted that they would not make the same choices he did, but fully defended his right to hunt, and praised his consciousness of his actions.

So yes, I've seen vegans defend the rights of hunters. And this is just as important as men defending the rights of women, or White folk promoting the rights of Black people. It is a true example of leadership, and the notion of not leaving anyone behind.

This may seem like a stretch, but look at the way civil rights have been enacted, leaving those on the fringe feeling ostracized, instead of including them in the conversation. Instead of engaging them in the movement forward, it allowed them to stew in their anger and gather their own momentum.

Living a vegan lifestyle is a good thing. But when people take it a step further and condemn anyone who lives differently, all they do is ostracize others.

One of my favourite examples was a friend who was vegetarian, not vegan, who was with me at a barbecue. They simply asked this one man they were talking with how often they ate meat. It came across a true curiosity. The other person did not feel threatened or attacked by the question. And so they responded honestly. They said they ate meat about 2 or 3 times a week.

My friend responded, "Oh, that's not a lot. Good for you." And they left it at that.

It was just like the story of the Master when someone said they were having trouble quitting smoking. He asked them how much they smoked, and they told Him. He said something like, "Oh, that's not a lot. There are people who smoke far more than you." And after that, after the simple acknowledgement that yes they did smoke, but it really wasn't all that much, the person found that they were able to quit with very little trouble.

All that to say, not everyone will make the same choices we do. The best we can do is allow them that freedom, and encourage them to continue to explore reality, just as we continue to do. After all, there are certainly choices that we make that they may not. We would surely want the same courtesy extended toward us.

And for those of you who are keeping track of these things, 86 articles left to go to reach my goal of 100 within one year.

where can I add in: Whosoever desireth, let him turn aside from this counsel and whosoever desireth let him choose the path to his Lord.

The Prevailing Order

The winds of despair are, alas, blowing from every direction, and the strife that divideth and afflicteth the human race is daily increasing. The signs of impending convulsions and chaos can now be discerned, inasmuch as the prevailing order appeareth to be lamentably defective. I beseech God, exalted be His glory, that He may graciously awaken the peoples of the earth, may grant that the end of their conduct may be profitable unto them, and aid them to accomplish that which beseemeth their station.- Bahá’u’lláh, Gleanings CX

I ran across this quote again earlier today, and... well... It got me thinking. Which I know, right? That's a good thing, isn't it? That's what sacred text should do.

What hit me, though, was not the similarities and differences between when this was written and today. Nor was it the short prayer at the end. Nor was it even the word "lamentably", which I have contemplated many times over the years.

No, this time it was one phrase, and the countless things we take for granted when reading it. It led me to the very real question, how do we understand the words, "the prevailing order"? What does it refer to? What does it look like? And why would He say it is "lamentably defective"?

We often think of it as the various forms of government, perhaps even the corporations or various church organizations. In general, we think of it in terms of administrative structures. But when I looked up what the phrase meant, what I found surprised me.

A basic dictionary definition says that it refers to the current or generally accepted system, structure, or set of rules guiding a specific environment or society. The phrase signifies what is most common and widespread at a given time.

So, while it can refer to the various administrative structures, it goes far beyond that. It also refers to the framework in which those structures exist.

Let's take one example: the way in which we engage with economics. We think of our various economic activities as transactional. You give me money and I give you an object. Boom. We're done. That's it.

Even if we were to try using a barter system, the very structure is still the same. It's still a one to one system, in which the people involved don't make a difference.

And perhaps that's the problem: the people involved don't make a difference.

In a relational model, the people are more important.

In such a system, the interactions are not begun when you hand me the money, nor are they concluded when I give you the object. Our relationship is integral to the very system itself. It is why in some Indigenous cultures, transactions were made between nations, not individuals. In each culture, everyone gave what they could, and took what they needed. People were at the centre of every interaction. And any abuse of that system was corrected by the entire community.

As I've mentioned before, I'm an artist. And one of the things that has been central to my particular business model is that I don't actually see my customers as customers. I see them as friends.

Most vendors I meet at the various shows tend to see the people attending as little more than walking wallets. Oh, they wouldn't say it like that, but when you watch them and their interactions, it is fairly evident.

Most fashion designers tend to see the models who wear their work as little more than human hangers. To me, they are first and foremost people. I ask their advice about what they would like to wear, and watch their reactions to the different outfits I show them. I don't want them to merely wear an outfit. I want them to shine with the joy of wearing a piece they love.

In both these cases, the people come first. And that is at the heart of my business. I may lose a number of sales by wanting to interact with people who merely want to hand over some cash and be done with it, but in the end it is always worth it to me. It helps bring a little bit more warmth into what is otherwise a cold situation.

Another example of something we tend to take for granted is that of sovereignty. It has been said that the greatest tests in the coming times will be the balance between the rights of individuals, institutions, and communities.

In some areas the rights of the individual override the rights and well-being of the community. In other places, the right of the community tramples over the rights of the individual. What we need is to find a balance between these various rights. Whether it's personal sovereignty or the rights of the nation, it is something we need to seriously reconsider.

We are already beginning to understand that the right to free speech does not protect one from the consequences of that speech. The right of personal autonomy does not permit someone to abuse another.

But when it comes to nations, we still have not quite looked at the natural limitations of their rights. Shoghi Effendi, in the World Order of Baha'u'llah, spoke of that international commonwealth, organized along similar lines to the federal government of the United States in its relationship to its independent states, and said, "This commonwealth must, as far as we can visualize it, consist of a world legislature, whose members will, as the trustees of the whole of mankind, ultimately control the entire resources of all the component nations..."

Many see this as quite controversial, but as we continue to witness the abuse of these resources by various parties, we are beginning to discern the necessity of such a step.

What will this do to the global economy? Well, upset it, for one. And totally change how we see the value of these resources.

This will also challenge the very notion of success being defined by "winning against others". It will help us make the move, and transformation, towards a more just system as we begin to replace competition with more collaboration and consultation.

On the micro level, this would also change our work experience, moving us from working under the rigid authoritarian style of leadership to one that values the empowerment and success of every individual within the structure.

In every sphere of life, we would see dramatic and drastic change, for this would effect our style of education, our understanding of what it means to have a service-based healthcare model, how we view farming and agriculture, and many other areas as well. It would truly impact every aspect of our life.

And at the heart of it all? Understanding that the human being is at the very centre of every relationship. Not the corporation. Not the "bottom line". Not the GDP. The human being.

And at the centre of every human being is their heart.

When we begin to understand this, the cautionary statement from 'Abdu'l-Baha, "Beware! Beware! Lest thou offend any heart", takes on an even greater importance.

And then we can begin to see why "the prevailing order" is not just deemed defective by the Most Great pen, but "lamentably defective".

My Profession

For those of you that don't know, I make chainmail for a living. Oh, not the letters you receive asking you to forward them to ten friends. That's a chain letter, not chainmail. Think armour. Except I don't do armour. I make high-end haute couture with chainmail as my medium.

Aside - There was a time many years back when someone asked me to make a football jersey in chainmail for them, complete with their name on the back. Without batting an eyelash, I informed that I could not take such a request, for it was actually illegal. "What", he exclaimed, "but why?" And I answered, "You can't put chain letters in the mail."

I've been making fashion pieces in this medium for far longer than I care to think about, like since the mid-1980s.

Working this long in a field, any field, gives you some insights that I often think are worth sharing. For years, I would listen to those who had them to share, but over the past little while, I've noticed that more and more people are asking me to share my own insights.

Well, here's one that I thought might be relevant to this blog.

One of the questions I get asked a lot, for some reason, is whether I'm an amateur or a professional in my field. No idea why. I guess people just can't imagine someone being a professional artist, or something.

Anyways, it's been a question for a long time. And my response? I'm both.

You see, dear reader, "amateur" comes from the Latin, "amat", to love. An amat-eur is one who does it for love. Which I do.

And while being a professional generally means you make money from it, which I do, it also has the root "to profess", to openly declare.

When talking with new artists, people who are just beginning to find their way in this murky world of ours, I often ask them if they think of themselves as amateurs or professionals. The answers, of course, are mixed.

"Do you do it for love?" Of course, they always answer yes to that one, for no artist that I have ever met began because they hated the medium. Of course they love it.

There you go, I reply. You are an amat-eur, and you should fully embrace that term. That way, if you don't quite make a living at it, at least you will continue to do your art for love.

But what about "professional"? Some say they hope to be. Some say they are, albeit with hesitancy. And a few say that they are with no doubt whatsoever.

In all cases, though, I ask them what it is they are professing.

There was one young woman at a market at a stall near mine. It was a slow day, so all us vendors were chatting. She was new to the market life and asked me if I had any tips for surviving, lasting more than a season or two.

"Seriously?" I asked. "I mean, do you really want a serious answer to that?" She did.

"If I were to take one of your rings, and one of hers and one of hers, and hers, and hers, would you be able to tell me which one was yours?"

And this woman was honest.

"No," she said, with a bit of concern.

"Then you won't make it. As an artist, you need to stand out. You need to be distinctive. People need to see your work and know that it is one of your pieces."

And that was when I talked about what it means to be a professional.

"Every piece you make is a statement to the world. It's a letter from your soul to theirs. What message do you want to convey?"

And again she was honest.

"I'm not sure."

"Great. No problem. It's better to know that you don't know than to make up something quick on the spot. Think about it. And think about how you can convey that message in your medium. That's the secret behind being an artist."

Then she turned the question on me.

"What's your message?"

"Unity", I said, without any hesitation.

She wondered about that, so I explained.

Every ring is like a person. There may be different sizes, different colours, maybe even different metals, but they're all essentially the same. And only when they come together into the mesh of fabric can they create the beauty of the weave. Just like the individuals of humanity.

There is a fascinating passage in the Kitab-i-Aqdas, where He says:

It is incumbent upon each one of you to engage in some occupation—such as a craft, a trade or the like. We have exalted your engagement in such work to the rank of worship of the one true God... (O)ccupy yourselves with what will profit you and others.

And another, in Epistle to the Son of the Wolf, where He says that "arts and sciences" should be "conducive to the well-being and tranquility" of humanity.

When I think about this, and the idea that every piece that I create is a message that I am sending out into the world, my work takes on an entirely new meaning for me. Every piece gets made with the same care and love that I would give to a handwritten letter to a dear friend. My thoughts are turned to the unity of humanity with every link I close. It becomes something of a constant refrain in my work, and I am able to talk about it fluently with every person that comes by. The medium may be my own, but the message is universal.

No matter your career, the opportunity of offering your own statement to the world is there. Just be conscious of it, and do it with awareness and love. And that will turn your career into your profession.