Introduction

 Welcome to the story of my experiences in the orbit of Sidi Sheik Mohammed Al Jamal Al Rifai.  It began in 1979, when I was 27.  I met him by chance at the end of a visit to  Jerusalem and formally became his murid (student) a few days later. 

It ended in 2014, when I saw him in the ICU, a few hours before his death in a hospital in Marin County, California.  (Although my contact with him had already declined substantially after my wife Aisha divorced me and I left the group in 1995).

Though I had had a lifelong, experiential interest in spirituality, as well as a degree in Religious Studies and had taken a year of Arabic, I wasn't specifically looking for a Sufi Guide when I visited Jerusalem.  

I certainly wasn't looking for a wife, either.  However, in very short order I found myself in a brand new life where I was a half-baked Sufi disciple and married to my 'perfect' partner WHOM, I was led to believe, Allah had been WAITING to put me together with!

(Btw, I've given all the major players here pseudonyms: 'Yunus' is mine, my ex-wife's is 'Aisha', elder daughter Teresa, younger daughter Zooey, and son Ibrahim).

How Sidi's actions towards us reflected what I ultimately considered  manipulative and disingenuous--'cultic', if you will-- is a dominant theme of this blog. 

Also, I've described  how I tried to cope with the situation after I realized that, by the time he had disconnected from his Arabian moorings--Sidi started manifesting more as a cult leader and/or Islamic Missionary/Proselytizer  rather than the Old School, morally-upright, and in some sense 'realized' Sufi Guide/mystic I had initially experiencd him being.

In fact, he became, if he wasn't already, shockingly amoral when it came to sexuality--both in terms of the indulgences he allowed himself and the extent to which he involved himself in the 'marital' lives of his followers.  

(This wasn't so obvious in the early days, when his wife was still alive, his kids were young, and he had never left the Middle East. But things started to get 'freaky' when he got to America. My fantasy is that like so many Old Country men I'd seem who arrive in the West for the first time, he had a hard time restraining himself from the attractions of liberated Western women.)

In my own case,  he convinced me to have sex  barely 2 weeks into my stay in his Jerusalem zawiya (ashram), with one of his female disciples BEFORE we were married. 

I was not entirely sure exactly why.  I guessed (hoped) it was some sort of 'Adam and Eve'  demonstracion/re-enactment.  Or maybe it was a kind of catalyst to try and inspire us to finally agree to the marriage he so urgently seemed to induce us into.

(He actually tried to marry us FIRST, but when I refused THEN he 'ordered' us to engage sexually with each other.  And during which  he remained in the room and directed the proceedings!)

In this way, he foreclosed the possibility of anything resembling  a 'normal' courtship.  

Although, I use the pronoun 'us' advisedly.  There was always an undercurrent of  'reformation' or 'education' to our marriage.  I sometimes felt I was Aisha's 'project' as much as I was her husband.  

There was a backchannel of communication between her and Sidi.  An air of my being a 'work in progress' wherein if, were she only PATIENT, she would eventually find in me the idealized 'Real Adam' or 'mirror' that it was implied all such 'Sufi marriages' would demonstrate.

Marriage itself was seen as part of the spititual process.  Although it wasn't represented as such directly in Sidi's teachings, Sufi literature is famous for it's suggestion of human Romantic love as a metaphor for the relationship between the Human and the Divine.

Sidi was so focused on this 'Deep Secret Love' aspect of Sufism that arrranged marriage itself became a kind of rite of passage.  It was an adult form of 'spin-the-bottle' that added a festive and slightly 'naughty' element to his American gatherings.

Most of these marriages, predictably, were failures.

Although sadly, there were some sincere, although very unhappy couples who STAYED MARRIED FOR DECADES to someone they DIDN'T EVEN LIKE because they thought God, thru Sidi, had SPECIFICALLY ORDERED the marriage!

Ick.

Although my wife and I DID have beautiful, unique children from our marriage.  Which, while it lasted, served as a motivating factor to pave over our differences.

I am glad my children are alive.  All 3 of them seem be doing well at the moment.  Which is at least a partial consolation.  Maybe I should just leave it there and be grateful, on their behalf, for the misguided manipulations I fell for that resulted in their lives on Earth.

And, on the other hand,  I'm deeply embittered at the cultism, greed, and unfettered promiscuity Sidi was the center of, at least in his final years as a travelling Guru in America.

I've kept silent about it for a number of reasons.  

1. Mainly because I am scared of losing contact with my children for revealing some uncomfortable features of their mother's religion, their father's excesses, and whatever other revelations I might make.

2. I've been concerned that Aisha's psychology might unravel should I too effectively pull the rug out from under her 'Sidi obsession'.

3. Though highly inappropriate, I've gotten used to the inexcusable, sexual undercurrents in Sidi's fuqara.  It's tempting to just avoid mentioning them and confronting the 'backlash' from Sidi's remaining followers.

I will say I have difficulties separating out my separate arguments with Sidi and Aisha, my Ex. 

Perhaps I have tended to criticize the latter with insufficient sympathy.  Yet, after I think that, I realize she is STILL on the same disturbing, cultic mission as always--magnifying a completely false sexual predator as some sort of peerless Man of God.  

She is not without responsibility--some karma, IMHO.  

How many people has she personally led astray?  Or was that just THEIR karma and I should leave them to it?

See how confused I still am?

I've spent the better part of my entire adult life dealing with the aftermath of my association with Sidi.  Of course, some of this is probably 'my choice'.  That I don't simply decide to 'move on'. Whatever that might look like.

It's hard to 'move on' when there has been zero attempt at closure by one ex-partner.  And when the 'parental alienation syndrome' set off by those long-ago events still influences the behavior of my children that got caught in the middle.

Primarily, I found the woman I was married to had profound and largely unexplored and suppressed emotional wounds and an almost-impenetrable self-defensiveness that made rational, mutually-respectful discourse about the well-being of our mutual children, or for that matter anything else, almost impossible.

In the face of which, I usually just deferred to her judgements/decisions.

Moreover, I found that her so-called 'spiritual adherent' lifestyle, while outwardly moral in terms of keeping the Islamic prayers and prohibitions (alcohol, for example), also represented a bubble into which she retreated from relating to others in a normal, humane way.

Once she was done with me, she was unwilling to engage me as a co-parent, or so it seemed to me.  She was used to having her own way with decisions regarding the children and was not eager to power share.

My children, and particularly my son, were exposed to her unguarded and, from what I gathered, usually-negative evaluations and criticisms of me.  I believe the children were subtly encouraged to shun me, just as she had.   

For some reason, after the divorce, she took on the last name of  Sidi Sheik Al-Jamal.  This was not a tradition even in our relatively non-traditonal Sufi group.  

It was more like she wanted to be Sidi's wife or relative.  It was a completely unprecedented and, as I saw it,  sadly delusional act.

Similar to suddenly naming oneself "Mrs. Elvis Presley" in hopes that a few gullible people might accept that obvious fiction as reality!

Or perhaps as her homage to some long-ago backstage encounter she'd had with 'The King' before He found His Priscilla!

She also encouraged the children to use that name rather than their father's (mine), when registering them for school.

This broke my heart and was one of many indicators of her inability to share power with me.  Despite her willingness to accept my abundant and extra-legal financial support.  Including my willingness to exceed child support by $1000 per month AND continue alimony for 15 years past the nominal deadline.

In the case of my younger daughter Zooey, and because she had a beautiful degree of love in her heart, she was able to resist the pressure to reject me.  Her reassurance of her continuing love was vitally enlivening to me in the early years of the divorce when I was suddenly separated from my children and estranged from my emotionally-hostile ex-spouse.

(Admitedly, some of the cause of that estrangement was probably due to the fact that I very quickly found myself in another long-term relationship. And the relationship my ex had, to all outward appearances, broken off our marriage for, had dissolved).

In the case of my 11-year-old son, however, he grew increasingly distant from me.  He seemed to feel like he was 'The Man of the House'.  He must have overheard many phone calls where Aisha complained about me to Sidi or other members of the fuqara.  He often refused to visit me as required by the court schedule.  He wriggled out of seeing my parents, too, who were aging and had adored him as a child.

Aisha, my ex-, always played by her own set of rules.  She demanded Sidi tell her EXACTLY what God wanted her to do about 'x'.  After awhile, she began to imagine God was speaking directly to her as well.  At least this was my perception.

Hence, she distrusted any suggestions coming from me that weren't specifically God-given.

It's an issue still today, incredibly, after 30 years of being divorced.  We still can't manage a polite exchange of calls or texts, despite many attempts on my part.

In this blog, the actual names of most of the characters have been changed. Other than that, the account is the truth, at least as I see it.

Many of the earliest people drawn to Sidi were lovely, caring souls that I cared deeply for.  IMHO, their sweetness is something they had ALREADY, that perhaps Sidi helped them bring out.

I believe Aisha was and probably still is a good person at heart. And she had a strong and sincere spiritual motivation to 'surrender' to God as a strategy to cast off the burdens of life--be they past traumas, abuse, the results of poor decisions, the cruelty of others, etc.

I also believe she fell prey to cultism as an excuse to not live her own human life.  Instead, she lives to convert others by publishing Sidi's books and personally helping them 'walk' the spiritual path. But she offers no guidance as to what Sidi's religion meant to her.  Or what was so special about it to her personally. At least not to the outside world.

THE CONTEXT

Religion/spirituality can offer an alternative to the ordinary and ultimately meaningless and unrewarding pursuit of pleasure, money, prestige, or whatever short-term goals society offers.

For many of us who grew up in North America as children of the the post-WW2 generation, or 'Boomers',  ordinary Christianity didn't reach us deeply.  Many of our parents seemed mostly going thru the motions of it, if they bothered at all.  Our parents were mostly glad to be over the sacrifices of the War and anxious to return to civilian life.

Our parents participated in what was perhaps the greatest period of financial, industrially-based prosperity in the history of humankind.  Success, at least of the material variety, came with relative ease for the average family.

Yet the children of those post-WW2 parents were subject to  new issues: the breakdown of the traditional family, the Cold War, the Vietnam War, and just a cultural disillusionment that caused many of us to want something dramatically different.

For many of us, it included a search for a new rationale for living that included spiritual values emanating from the East. Many of us set off on virtual 'Journeys to the East', to borrow the title of an important book that reflected that Search.

'Seeking' is inevitably the first step in spiritual life.  Accompanying it is a willingness to suspend disbelief for a certain period to 'try out' a new set of spiritual beliefs and to a greater or lesser extent, the cultural milieu accompanying them.

For some of us, this process was like shopping in the 'New Age Religions Bazaar'. Each shop had different Gods, different paths, different languages, different clothing, etc.

My ex-wife Aisha and I separately had done a fair amount of 'shopping' by the time we both ended up in Sidi's Zawiya, on the far side of the Mountain of Olives in the Jerusalem region.

She was largely done shopping, I suppose.  It turned out I was not.

Although I very much WANTED to be, Sidi very FIRMLY advised me that I was.  And she MARRIED me on the presumption that I was.

And what was also true was that I very early on realized, mostly subconsciously, that many of the underlying assumptions I had made about Sidi were dubious at best.

Moreover, my assumptions about Aisha being my 'perfect' partner were incredibly naive, and based  on Sidi's encouragement to believe such nonsense and my own desperate desire to find my own spiritual path.

I came to see her more as a victim of Sidi's manipulations and her own, personal, unworked-on-depth psychology.  A psychology which, in my observation, she adamantly REFUSES to work on today.

Someone who, nonetheless, I did learn to love and appreciate for her many good qualities. Which WERE on display on MANY of the days we spent together.  And I was torn to pieces for a long while after she left me.  And I made it worse by drinking at it, though I finally got sober a couple of years later.

But on the question of religion, she seemed incapable of altering or examining her single-minded focus on Sidi.  I pity her for that. And I resent her for it as well.

As time passed, I saw her behave more and more as her own 'guide'.  Near the end of our marriage, she began to make important decisions without Sidi's permission such as:

1.) 'Dating' another member of Sidi's fuqara BEFORE she was divorced from me, and

2.) Publicly refusing Sidi's Order to remain married to me, and later, 

3.) Changing her last name and that of my 2 younger children to 'Al-Jamal', despite her not having any legal or traditional connection to that name, and

4.) Continuing to proselytize for Sidi. Even though she had effectively renounced Sidi's sovereignty over her own life choices, she nonetheless never challenged him for directing OTHER women (and men) to marry in the same humiliating and degraded manner that had been forcefully imposed by Sidi on us. A manner which she knew from her own life example was not likely to work.

Like Sidi himself, Aisha had an inconsistent moral compass, which, while it definitely harmed other people, she never apologized for, made amends for, or even acknowledged.

But, like me, Aisha still has the ability to reject that earlier version of herself. 

There's no peace for me in seeing another's cult addiction handled as just a different 'choice.'  I see it as a tragic and possibly terminal 'checking-out' from Life perpetrated by malign leaders that denies those who identify with it their freedom of choice.

If my family member or friend 'decided' to be a drug addict, should I just shrug and pass it off as their  right to 'choose their own lifestyle?'  Regardless of the harm their addiction might be doing to others who might depend on them and, ultimately, to their own chances of a happier life?

At several points in my life, I found myself facing extinction due to severe bouts of alcoholism.  No one who 'left me alone' actually did me any favors.  

The people I remember as most helpful were those who broke through my excuses and self-pity. Who told me they loved me but that I was going to die if I didn't seek help.

Granted, the question of what role 'leadership' should play in the life of a spiritual aspirant is complex.  Especially in the early stages of the journey, for example, one can benefit from the experiences of others.  There ARE spiritual exercises, such as meditations, that can and should be learned from more experienced practitioners.

But too often, the living Spirit that once illuminated the original elder or elders is frozen into a formula that does not contain the seeds of genuine spiritual advancement. One goes through the forms, as I sometimes did, but one does not experience the essence. 

Moreover, in Sidi's case, most of his students, most of the time, were basically his 'audience.' They didn't meet with him regularly for private instructions based on their actual attainment of any state or station, as would be the case in a traditional Sufi Order or any other practice-oriented Spiritual Group.

They were people looking for a different kind of theater in which to enact their lives, as their old lives had been disappointing or inconclusive.

At least, that was the case for me.  I didn't want to commit to years of arduous work, (meditation, prayer, etc.) before obtaining the spiritual goodies.  I wanted the goodies up front and for any remaining work to be that much easier afterward.  I wanted to be moved, to be exalted.  I wanted to stop disliking myself.  I wanted change--and FAST.

Sidi's formula for newcomers was accelerated in the early stages--full of new sights and sounds, concepts, people, and agreements. And, if possible, a new wife or husband to seal the deal.  But Sidi, the Director, was always at the center of it.

Ultimately, Sidi was mostly a beloved storyteller and entertainer—a kind of Arabian Peter Pan who led his Western boys and girls on an incredible adventure through a vivid, stylized, Islamicized Alternate Psychic Reality where Allah and His Agents lived among us.

Sidi steadfastly lived in that Alternate Psychic Reality, no matter where he was.  He never seemed flustered or confused.  He could always rise to the occasion.  He was almost always the center of attention wherever he went.

No doubt about it, Sidi HAD some indefinable SOMETHING!!  He seemed utterly comfortable in his own skin, and he could always deliver a sermon on demand.  He was a professional Holy Man.

The problem was that few of his Western Students were able to approximate anything remotely like the qualifications for being a Sufi murid that a typical student from the Muslim world could.

Most of us had no Arabic, no familial or national embrace of Islam. And in many cases, many of us had traumatic histories, inclusive of drug and alcohol addiction, sexual abuse, divorce, etc., on a level nowhere near that one would find in the life of a typical Muslim Sufi aspirant. 

Hence, classical Sufi teaching was mostly non-specific to us and dependent on Sidi's personality and presence.  He might have hoped that someone would come along with enough personal attainment and charisma to take over his Order after his death, but he never found such a person.

And, at least to this observer, Sidi's migration to America all but ensured whatever moral authority he might have hoped to exemplify was strangely OVERWHELMED his own promiscuity and self-serving financial chicanery.   

Like many men from old-school, uptight Muslim countries, Sidi COULDN'T RESIST putting his fat little fingers in the Western cookie jar!

Sidi lost his own Soul in America as surely as those who followed him here did.

Sidi never asked his disciples to graduate.  The only spiritual roles he asked of them were occasionally to serve as  mediums in the majlis (convocation) seance/ceremony,  (At least this was true in the early days. Perhaps it changed a bit later when he came to the U.S. I wasn't involved after he started to come here.)

In my experience, Sidi rarely asked his students to teach others or publicly describe their inner changes accompanying the path--how they made amends for their wrongs or how they learned to serve others. 

It wasn't participatory or practical like that.  Everybody did their own thing as before, only with an Islamic accent or affectation--a hopeful, assumed new 'cosplay' or identity.

But, in the end, the assumption we Westerners made of an alternate Arabian faux-identity was more like taking a 'psychic vacation' in a country full of new novelties and interesting characters.

Especially if one leaves behind one's moorings in terms of family and friends who were known before and one associates primarily with the alternate society of people within the cult.

Even Nurideen Durkee, whom we discuss in another chapter, who strove like perhaps no other Westerner to make Islamic Sufism work for him, seems to have been ultimately disappointed with his life.

Hence, as I see it,  Sidi's students didn't know how to manifest the advanced states he describes in his teachings on the 'Stations.' They just became Sufi Muslims and didn't know where they were in terms of the Stations. 

Those higher stations sounded great, but did anybody actually ATTAIN them? 

Not even Sidi claimed he had.  So what GOOD was it to learn about them?

If nothing else, I hope to encourage anyone afflicted with the Sidi Bug to wake up by highlighting some of the contradictions I experienced regarding Sidi's mission to the West and/or to avoid repeating the same mistakes I made.

I admit to feeling BITTER about the suffering I endured by following this flawed leader.  Particularly in the case of being strongly encouraged to marry someone I didn't know and, failing that, to have sex with her.  With him in the same room.

I gained nothing long-term spiritual value from him that I am aware of. Nothing.

I didn't see him exemplifying the morals I wanted to embody, and I wasn't that interested in the traditional Islamic religion he was actually selling, as distinct from the Sufism I thought he represented.

Though I keep trying to tell myself that my time in the fuqara wasn't a TOTAL loss. 

I DID, most certainly, experience immersion in two cultures different than my own. 

The first was Palestinian Muslim culture, which I found in the late 70s. 

I loved their hospitality, polite curiosity, honesty, and warmth. We also enjoyed extraordinary access to Sidi's household. We often joined his family upstairs for endless teas, Turkish coffees, religious family meals, televised soap operas or Arab music videos, meal preparation, and other everyday activities.

Sidi's children played with our (the fuqara's) children.  At least two marriages between them later resulted.  There was always laughter and fun to be had. And all of it against the dramatic backdrop of the Holy City of Jerusalem right outside the window.

I certainly could not fault Sidi for lacking hospitality, at least during the '70s and '80s, when the doors to his zawiya and residence were opened even to the scruffiest Western Truth Seekers.

Secondly, I experienced membership in the subculture of Sidi's Western followers, which included North Americans and Europeans.  We stayed with each other, held retreats together, prayed, went to mosques, and did dhikr together. Our children also married each other in this group, which contributed to lifelong relationships.

The early Western fuqara was an exceptionally sincere and close-knit group, particularly the European contingent.  At one point, when my family and I were unsettled and somewhat lost, we relied on another fuqara family for extended hospitality in their small English house for many weeks, which they cheerfully provided.

I was proud to know them and still remain friendly with them today.  Many of the early devotees seriously adopted the trappings of conventional Islam and found fellowship and friendship with other 'ordinary' Muslims.

Sidi tended to give advice with an air of Infallibility--whether he experienced it as an interior reality or not.  As an Islamic judge, that was his job anyway.

Depending on the questioner or question, he might add that,

"My Beloved God showed me that you should...(fill in the blank).

If the barista at Starbucks said that,  you'd laugh it off.  

Yet,  when an otherwise respectable Muslim cleric and holy man in Jerusalem tells you that you might be inclined to listen.  Especially if you are at a time and place where you are desperately looking for some kind of spiritual lifeline.

Sidi didn't really teach Sufism as such in depth--at least not as something separate from Islam. For the most part, he taught Westerners how to be Muslim.  In the early days, not knowing this, some of us called it "The Outside Islam" as if it were a kind of kindergarten for others who were not on the 'fast track' to the Illumination that Sufism provided.

Yet, when we'd accompany Sidi around Jerusalem and met people he knew, he would proudly point us out as 'New American/European Muslims'.  

I would smile interiorly because I thought he was just putting out a white lie to disguise the fact that we were actually Sufis more than Muslims. 

It turns out I couldn't have been more wrong.  In Sidi's mind, Sufism and Islam went together.  They were two sides of the same coin.

And, 'conversion', or dawah , is considered a duty of all Muslims.  Probably even more incumbent upon spiritual authorities such as Sidi, who came across non-Muslims frequently and had the opportunity to convert.

Ultimately, he taught many damaged and/or lost people to depend on him for reassurance of Allah's nearness to them through lecture tours and the displays of signs and wonders. 

He told them that they were exceptional and beloved by God.   People liked to hear that.  Many people want to believe that someone else can talk to God and unlock the secrets of their lives for them, even if they can't do it for themselves.

It's a total lie, of course. At least in my humble opinion.

Many people also yearn for a fulfilling marriage with a significant other.  But,  finding a long-term partner is a complicated process for most people. 

Sidi's path eliminated all the dating and guesswork necessary to find a marriage partner.  He simply paired you off with the most readily available prospect!

Although he made it seem, and most people BELIEVED, that the marriage was somehow DIVINELY ORDAINED!

It might be someone appropriate he knew of in Europe or America who would be summoned to return to Jerusalem for the nuptials. 

Or, it might be the next person who walked in his door.  I was that person for Sidi's Canadian disciple Aisha when I entered his door in Jerusalem, though I had no inkling of that then.

Like me, many sincere people got sucked into doing this against their better judgment because Sidi made such a great show of it and firmly insisted it was the Order of Allah that they marry--ON THE SPOT!

As far as I know, Sidi never revealed exactly WHY this became his signature performance piece among his Western disciples.  I expect it was because it made the resultant couple dependent on the one aspect of their lives they had in common--Sidi himself and the fuqara that surrounded him!

The fact that the Sudden Marriage feature was so out-of-the-ordinary perhaps made it seem like it was SUPERNATURALLY ORDAINED rather than just a cynical and cruel manipulation of the human dignity of those pressed into enacting it!

In other words, how could Sidi DARE to do such a thing, he being who he was, if he wasn't MIGHTY SURE it was the RIGHT thing to do?

When I finally left him, this appalling exercise in 'human sacrifice' was in high gear and apparently generating an almost hysterical level of excitement.  Even my 7-year-old daughter Zooey was preoccupied with speculating who so-and-so's new 'Beloved' would be!

Regarding the multiple reports of Sidi's financial manipulation, I had exited the fuqara before the extremes of donation-seeking and thinly veiled gambling, such as pyramid schemes, developed.  So, I avoided direct, personal involvement with it.  Unlike my ex-wife, whom I presume pretended to not see it.

I did discuss one of these so-called 'MLMs' with family members who lost anywhere from $10,000 to $100,000 in one of these promotions.  Sidi apparently approved these promotions and consulted the spirits about them in an Arabian version of a séance involving 'automatic writing.'

I believe Sidi's path only led back to himself and/or other group members. 

Because it was warm, fuzzy, and comforting in a 'Spiritual Family' way rather than in a heroic, efforting, '3-week-retreat' kind of way.

It was an island of continuing community in a world often barren of continuing family and other social contacts.  A world seemingly devoted to ephemeral, short-term goals--achievement, success, money, fame, etc. And a world is increasingly torn apart by political divisions, conflicts, and environmental perils.

Though I believe his ultimate intent may have been to introduce Westerners to Islam, he was a flawed example of the religion in his personal life.  He was NOT a saint. I'm not even convinced he was a good person.

I also heard from reliable sources that Sidi developed dementia near the end of his life,  But I didn't see him often enough to judge, especially at the very end.  If that is so, I feel sorry for him and his loved ones affected by it.

I do know that Sidi was Absolutely Charismatic.

I do know Sidi was absolutely charismatic.   Long after I'd left the group emotionally, when we would meet, his face would brighten, and he would still radiate warmth, welcome, and intimacy toward me.  He really seemed to appreciate seeing me!

 And despite everything I knew by then, my heart would still go out to him for some CRAZY reason.  I hated myself for that.

The most telling indication of Sidi's failure as a Skeikh is that he left no Successor to his line. The leadership of his order was not transmitted to a new Sheikh.

He made the right decision not to designate a successor.  Few, if any, of his Western followers knew Arabic, and his Palestinian fuqara had seemingly evaporated in direct proportion to the growth of his Western fuqara.

Anyone genuinely interested in following a traditional Sufi path must find a conventional Sheikh somewhere else, probably in the Middle East.  But at least one who is EXTREMELY COMPETENT in Arabic, the Qur'an, The Prophet's Sunna, and Shari'a Law. 

And, of course, one's future Sheikh should be above reproach.  An example Sidi was not able to maintain in the latter part of his life due to repeated, systemic sexual and financial improprieties.

I have been informed that Sidi's collected writings in Arabic (I never read them in Arabic) indicated that he knew the wellsprings of Sufi wisdom well.  I have no reason to dispute that.

Still, I think his lack of English—and his Western disciples' lack of Arabic—forced him to simplify and dumb down the path so much that it lacked step-by-step functionality for most people.  (Assumming it had any such 'functionality' to begin with).

And in the absence of that, it became a Cult of Personality. 

This was the pattern I saw until Sidi started appearing in America and came under the influence of a Western doctor with a pre-existing group of New Age followers.

Thereafter, It became hard to distinguish the original features of Shadhilliya Sufism as it became merged into a blurry curriculum of fuzzy 'Energy Healing' techniques, which typically involved hefty tuitions for what had, in the beginnings, been an ancient and sophisticated Path for the Spiritually Adept that depended more on one's humility and reliance on God than one's purse.

 Few, if any, of the old-school fuqara of the 70s and 80s embraced the new 'health' focus and its leader.

One notable lack in Sidi's presentation, to me at least, was any sense of his personal spiritual journey—how he started, how he changed along the way, his mistakes, etc. 

That always raises a red flag for me. Why is the Leader not describing his transformation, especially if he is in the Spiritual Transformation business?

Sidi never talked about his youthful experiences, apprenticeship with his Sheikh, family life, lessons he learned, or how he changed.  Why not?  

(I also noted this absence in the case of my ex-wife, Aisha.  Throughout her adult life, she remained a motivated propagandist for Sidi's teachings. 

Yet, she never told her own 'before and after' story in the pitches she made to recruit new brothers and sisters. She seemed ill-at-ease with her own past, and there was something about it she didn't want to admit.  I never found out what that was. Or, more than likely, there were multiple things.

She was disappointed in love, apparently.  Her first husband cheated on her.  I know absolutely NOTHING about that relationship.  In 14 years of marriage to me, she never once spoke about it.  Doesn't that seem a bit odd?

I mean, could it have been THAT terrible?  

Or, was it more likely the case that her M.O. was to just leave the past behind her and never re-engage it. That has certainly proven to be the case with her relationship to me.)

Perhaps his followers assume that Sidi was 'born perfect.' That, you will discover, is the frequent claim of every false Guru that ever landed on American shores.  It disables any controversies based on the Leader's past.

 And, even if that were true, what can those not so fortunate expect to learn from those who are? Not much.  We can only bask in their Radiance but not attain that for ourselves.

This deficit automatically places such people in a hierarchical position that their followers may accept or reject.  But we cannot hope to emulate them because they don't tell us HOW they walked their own path. 

Which steps were essential, for example, and which steps could be skipped, if necessary.

In Sidi's group, there was a lot of personal freedom, except in the decision of whom to marry, Which was best left up to Sidi himself.  

I never heard anybody getting kicked out of the group for any reason.  

Not even Ali, the unsavory character who saw fit to 'date' my wife publicly before we had even physically separated.  And who thereby disgraced her and embarrassed our children and mutual friends.

I had a gentle beginning as a child, with loving, concerned parents without significant hang-ups.  My dad had one or two drinks every night after work like clockwork, but I never once saw him drunk.  My folks were good.

However, the 1960s, the War in Vietnam, and my generation's notably extended adolescence brought on the beginnings of alienation from the predominant American culture.  In my case, it began around age 14. 

The addition of psychedelic drugs to my life and the lives of many others supercharged the heady sense of cultural upheaval.

In my own case, this also began a lifelong quest to find spiritual answers to my existential, cosmic questions: Why does anything exist?  Where is God? Who am I?

I don't regret asking the questions I did—my college years were about little else.  But at that time, Eastern Religions were new, and I didn't have enough information to distinguish the wheat from the chaff.  I tended to throw myself into them rather than ask questions.

I was drawn to inhabiting spiritual bookstores where I was simultaneously dispirited by the sheer volume of "Ultimate Ways to Enlightenment" offered. 

My presumed solution was to find the 'One Right Answer' somewhere. But HOW?

I didn't recognize that the 'answer,' or something like it, lay as much inside myself as on a Himalayan mountaintop.  I tried several spiritual paths, a couple of them benign (Meher Baba & Chinese Buddhism), a couple of them egregiously cultic - Hare Krishna, and Adidam.

Out of college, I was lost.  I fell into a tedious, solitary, traveling sales job.  It totally deprived me of a wholesome source of associates and friends. And I got lonely, and I tended to address that loneliness with drugs, alcohol and (meaningless) sex.

Then, I won a free trip to travel ANYWHERE, so I picked several cities and ended the journey in Jerusalem.  There, I met Sidi and the cast of characters, many of whom are still in my life today.

With Sidi's group, I had to stay put spiritually longer than ever before.  Because I had married into it through the person of one of his long-term and most ardent followers.

I did enjoy the many good things the group offered—a new group of interesting international friends, a 'part-time membership' in a completely different culture whose language I was only slightly fluent in, and a new ' Direct Connection' to God through Sidi. 

Unfortunately, I discovered I could not progress spiritually on Sidi's path.  

It didn't stick with me like it did for Aisha, my wife, and others.  I couldn't find a user-friendly set of instructions within it.  At least none of that worked for me.

I left the group at the same time I got divorced in 1994.  I held off writing about my experiences for Fear of making matters worse for me in terms of offending the friends and family still inside Sidi's orbit. 

Otherwise, I've tried to make my peace with it.  One can't go back. 

Like many people in their 70s, I'm noticing some memory loss.  Hence, I wanted to share this story while I still remember it.

So, thanks again for showing up.  I hope you get something worthwhile from my experiences.  Your comments are welcomed.

Please click the 'older posts' button to continue chronologically as you read.

A glossary's also in the back for help with the Arabic words.

'As-Salaam Aleikum' or 'Peace be With You.'. 

I mean that. For many people, the world is harsh and constantly getting harsher.  Everyone deserves safety, wisdom, and love. May you serve others and play whatever part life offers you with love and detachment.

----------------------------------------------------

* Fuqara - The group of Fakirs, or 'poor ones.'  Usually, it designates Sidi's followers here, but it also would be used by any Sufi of a given order to refer to other members of his own order.

         (Don't forget to tap 'Older Posts' here and throughout for chronological continuity.)

Meeting Sidi In Jerusalem - I Get A New Identity - Everything Happens So FAST!

 

In  1979, I sat on a bluff on the Mount of Olives, overlooking the Dome of the Rock.

This stunning mosque is the third holiest in Islam.  Abutting it is theWailing or Western Wall, all that remained of the Temple, the center of Jewish life, which the Romans destroyed in 67 AD   The Wall is considered the holiest place for Jews to pray.

Both places have, of course, attracted millions of worldwide pilgrims for centuries.

I mostly felt sad and lonely, and probably a little drunk. During the last two to three weeks of traveling across Europe alone, I developed a fondness for wine. In my heart, I knew I was relying on it too much.




 

Jerusalem was the last city on the journey.  It is the site of essential events from the three Abrahamic religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. 

For New Age seekers, it is an attractive site because of thitsenergy' -—e faith and hope of generations of holy people.

Not necessarily because one is an adherent, in a traditional sense, of any of the three.

I came across some interesting sites--like the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, where Jesus was supposedly entombed.  

I appreciated seeing such wonderful places, but a vaguely imagined hope for some exceptional revelatory spiritual experience in Jerusalem apparently would not happen.  

I view myself as a lifelong spiritual seeker.  I came of age on the San Francisco Mid-Peninsula in the Sixties, which was a hotbed of the counter-culture.  I had experimented often and, for the most part happily, with psychedelics.

 

I also frequently attended concerts of the great bands of the era, including the Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane.

Those carefree times are difficult to imagine today.  We young people thought we were going to change the world.  In the meantime, we'd get VERY HIGH on LIFE and other substances, including LSD, shared joints, and communal jugs of wine. 

We trusted every kid with long hair!  Once, somebody started throwing unknown pills into the audience at a rock concert.  I instantly grabbed and swallowed one.

The Carefree 1960s

It threw me into an unsettling, dissociative blackout for several hours.  But it never occurred to me that I was naive to trust a total stranger who offered free drugs at a concert.  I thought maybe my own head wasn't in the right place.  (I later understood that I had taken Angel Dust or PCP ,  powerful and unpredictable animal tranquilizer.)

Ecstatic Chanting with the 'Hare Krishna' Movement

I approached spirituality with the same abandon. While this led me to at least ONE serious group—that of a branch of Chinese Zen Buddhism—it also led me down some blind alleys, like the three months I spent as a shaved-head, traveling monk in the Hare Krishna Movement.

I majored in Religious Studies in college, hoping to understand how to achieve a permanent spiritual state or understanding. 

I also took a year-long course in Arabic, which would give me insights into an ancient religion and an up-and-coming part of the world.  (I had briefly visited Morroco and found Arabic script beautiful and fascinating.)

 

So, I had previously been willing to join any spiritual group that came my way. At the time, I didn't see them as cults; I believed they were just out-of-the-way places where I could significantly change myself with minimal effort—just through sincerity or force of intention. Or maybe just good luck finding a 'Guru'.

I guess I was kind of looking for "God In A Pill." Or at least a spiritual experience I could wrest out of the Universe reasonably immediately.  

I had not grasped the idea that spiritual growth requires long-term, focused effort on the part of the individual seeker.  

NOT from just encountering and attaching myself to the most charismatic spiritual personalities!

Or, perhaps better, a convenient way of accessing the same bliss and wisdom that all the drugs and culture of the Sixties seemed to hint was available.  Only to do it on a permanent and relatively safe basis.

Little did I know that a significant spiritual drama was about to begin here in Jerusalem.  Once it began, it would prove almost impossible to escape.

.

A friendly Palestinian youth approached me   We chatted about this and that, finally talking about religion—which interested him a lot!

He suggested he take me to meet a Sufi Sheikh in the town if I wanted to.  I readily agreed, and we were off.

At this time, before the first Intifada, a tall Western person walking into a Palestinian area faced little danger.  The only exception might have been from pebbles thrown by small, smiling children, mistaking me for an Israeli Settler.

So, following him, I took the majestic view of the distant desert.   And, beyond it, the Dead Sea.  Somewhere over there was Jericho, which claimed to be 'The Oldest City in the World.'

Walking Down Mount
 of Olives Main Street

 I suddenly heard a loud call to prayer broadcast from a nearby mosque. The recording was age-old, scratchy, and totally endearing in its humility. It broke into my train of thought, reminding me to remember God or Allah.

I was brought halfway down the steep street to a nondescript stone house.  We knocked, and a couple of Western ladies with scarves answered and welcomed us in.  Their names were Maryam and Aisha.

I understood from them that they were students of the Sheikh, who lived upstairs on the top floor. 

Little did I know that, within a few weeks, one of the two would be my wife.

A few minutes later, the man who would largely determine the course of the rest of my life from then on came through the squeaky metal door. 

He was a stocky, muscled, middle-aged gentleman with a well-maintained beard.  His presence radiated wisdom, warmth, and authority, instantly winning my respect and curiosity.

Sidi Sheikh Muhammad Al-Jamal

He reminded me of an Old Testament prophet!

He shook my hand and politely asked me to sit down. 

I don't remember our first words,  but I remember feeling overwhelmed by the exotic unfamiliarity of the situation.  Here I was, a relative nobody, suddenly talking to a most-impressive Muslim Holyman!

It seemed like a break in the continuity of my thus-far unsatisfying reality, and perhaps a doorway into a new Reality. 

This guy was the Real Deal!  An Old Testament Prophet SUDDENLY come to LIFE.  And right here in the Holiest City of the Western World! 

 I was within a mile or two from the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus reportedly prayed in the final hours of his life.

Five times a day, competing  Calls to Prayer from local mosques blared out over the landscape.

Exotic, it was indeed!  I suddenly began to feel myself being drawn into it--whatever 'It' was.

The Zawiya.  I took this photo around 1980 on a breezy afternoon.  Summer afternoons were delightfully cool, though, at 2500 ft. elevation, the heat wasn't often a problem.

After a short talk, the Sheikh suggested I return the nnext day  Walking back to the hotel, I felt embraced by a palpable sense of the Sacred being nearby, walking alongside me.  

The stones in the area were so white that they were luminous in the moonlight- particularly THAT night!

I wasn't alone in the Universe as I had felt just hours before.  And, as I had often thought in the Sixties, amazing things were suddenly happening to me in an onrush! 

Suddenly, everybody in the world seemed kind and welcoming to me!  I was thrilled and looking forward to tomorrow!  The sky was the limit!

 

The next day, I returned to the house where I had met the Sheik.  The Western women called it the zawiya, or 'sufi center' in Arabic.  I was given a binder with typewritten copies of Skeikh's 'Subjects,' which earlier students had translated, typed, and left behind. 

This gave them the cachet of 'rare manuscripts' seen by only a select few. 

 

                       In our spiral notebooks, we carefully copied each subject by hand until we finished the entire collection and then started again at the beginning.

These poetic, flowery utterances were of great beauty.  They brought to life a new dimension of spirituality for me.  Though I had studied Islam before, I had read little about Sufism.

They spoke of the relationship between Man and God in an entirely new way.  As a kind of spiritual romance--sometimes tragically in separation, in other times in glorious union.

And I was pleased with this 'easy,' almost subliminal way of studying, which one could pick up or put down as needed.  The object was to imbibe the words rather than rationally dissect them.  I imagined I was growing wiser every time I completed one.  And my new 'sisters' were lovely and supportive.

After my first full day of studying in the zawiya, the Sheikh came down from his house above and offered another informal talk. 

(I'm not sure if it was that night or another, but I changed my hotel from the YMCA in the Old City to one on top of the Mount of Olives.  And after a few nights on top of the Mountain, I moved directed down into the zawiya.)

 Frequently, these talks began with a quick rehash of his day at the Islamic Court or some other public place.

  

Clearly, he was a person of some weight in the local Islamic ulema or clergy. 

 Yet, rather than repeating spiritual truisms, Sidi seemed to truly feel he was walking next to God throughout the day.  

I think this palpable sense of God's proximity was something he carried throughout his life, and it made people notice and usually respect him.  He seemed to enjoy being with people all day long   He never 'retreated' to private quarters for a rest.  He was available 24/7 to any and all who came.

On the other hand, he seemed incapable of admitting any errors.  Perhaps he was never held accountable for any. People defer to him in person but then go ahead and do whatever they wanted behind his back.

On Fridays, he sometimes preached at the Dome of the Rock Mosque and was a judge in the Islamic court.  This gave me a lot of faith in his integrity.  I could hardly imagine him being a fake or a phony and still managing to deliver THE weekly sermon at the Third Holiest Mosque in Islam!

I also learned something about being an Islamic Sufi,  including the ablutions before the five daily prayers and the Qur'anic verses necessary to complete them.

I enjoyed taking a break during the day to pray with other people—in my case, just the other two women.

I wasn't that impressed with the language of the prayers themselves. They were mostly about blessing Ibrahim, Mohammed, and other prophets. 

I wasn't sure why I needed to seek so many blessings for the departed  Prophets, who were mostly the same ones as in Judaism and Christianity.  Weren't they ALREADY in Heaven with Allah?

 I liked the parts of the prayer where there were prostrations—they were similar to those I performed in my earlier Buddhist context as well. They always made me feel more humble.

I especially enjoyed learning how to perform the Dhikr, or 'Remembrance' services, once or twice weekly.  These services were an opportunity to build social bonds, worship God, and experience primordial ecstasy.

The process was simple.  W  stood in a circle and chanted rhythmically for perhaps 30-60 minutes, usually nodding the end left-right-left in unison.

 We used familiar Arabic phrases such as  the name "Allah", or "There's no God but God", or "Please forgive me, God."

A typical Sufi Dhikr

Another 'Zikr', as practiced in Egypt

   A Chechen Women's Dhikr

Beautiful Introduction to Sufi Practices In Pakistan

This one describes how South Asian Sufi Shrines allow women to participate in religious life.

An Ensemble of Western Qawalli Musicians explain their music and motivations.  Lovely!

This devotional practice is not found in 'regular Islam'; it was particular to Sufism. It can be rigid orloose, depending on the country and the Order.

Sufism is more widespread than one would think.  300 million identify as Sufis out of 1.6 billion Muslims worldwide.

Depending on the order, people often experienced an ecstatic transport to another realm after a given Dhikr had been on for a while.

 

Usually, in larger groups, someone was appointed to keep the chanting and swaying of bodies within social norms and gently restrain anyone who seemed to be spinning out into "too much ecstasy."

In virtually all traditional groups, worshippers were separated by sex.

In Palestine, where I was, I had never heard of a woman's Dhikr.  However, Western women and men participated freely in Sidi's zawiya (meeting place).

Congregational singing induces a trance-like state almost in itself.  Nothing inspires a sense of unity and togetherness like it.

For some reason, we human animals love to get into a circle, sing, and dance.  You find it everywhere, from remote jungle tribes to Turkish Sufi 'Turners'.

In the aftermath of a vigorous Dhikr, which can and often does go on for hours, there is a sudden inner quiet—a feeling of great peace and reverence.

-

Another group of practices was called 'Halwa' or 'Retreat'.  These involved hours of quietly spoken, sung, or internally vocalized recitation of "Allah," "La Illa Il-Allah," or "Astafir Allah."

Nobody could beat Aisha in completing the set of recitations once she began. She never quit early. I could stay up for the Dhikr, but I didn't experience the needed results to stay up much of the night with the longer seated recitations.

After a few days of spending all day in the zawiya and doing these practices, Sidi called me up one evening and, with a serious look, offered me the opportunity to take the bayat or promise to join the Sufi Order with him as my Sheikh.

He promised that if I did this, I would experience God's proximity in a way that nothing in my prior experience could have prepared me for.

 (((Had I been given time to think about it, I might have thought back to that concert where I readily accepted 'free' drugs and what the strange and unexpected consequences had been.

Instead, I readily agreed without really knowing how to perform the daily prayers, the ablutions beforehand, or much else, and I was given the name Yunus.

I forgot the old adage, "If it seems too good to be true, it probably IS!"

I was hooked. 

And honestly, though I don't know much about the Traditional bayat, or 'Promise/Initiation' between Master and Disciple in a Sufi order, I doubt it is dispensed as casually as Sidi seems to have done.

I imagine a rather long 'novice' period during which both parties have time to ponder the other's character, the time and place, etc.

But Allah knows best!

_______________________________________

Tony Kent, one of Sidi's Western disciples, created a pertinent documentary about Sidi. It's a bit fawning (Duh), but I love the segments featuring my friend, Maryam Tyrell. She was Sidi's long-term English student and one of the two women living in the zawiya when I arrived.  She 'got' Sidi's 'message' or perhaps found her own 'Truth of a Sufi' alongside it.

(PLEASE REMEMBER TO PRESS THE 'OLDER POSTS' BUTTON at the bottom of this page to KEEP THE CONTINUITY!)