Reflections on the Fast
Hollow Reed
by Sara DeHoff
In March, the Baha'is fast from sunrise to sunset for 19 days. Every year during this time I gain some insight that helps guide me during the following year. This year it came on the first day.
For some reason, my daughter seems to get sick in March. This year she came down with a bug on the first day of the Fast. I've found that I can do without food during the day or without sleep at night, but my system just can't handle both. So there I was, tending to my sick child in the middle of the night and feeling overwhelmed with frustration. I was really looking forward to the Fast—to the challenge of it and the insights that come as a result. Inside, I wailed "Why me?" I try to live up to these standards and every year I seem to get derailed.
Suddenly I realized that maybe my sacrifice is not food this year, but the Fast itself—to give up not eating to tend to someone who needs it. A great calm settled over me. I began to realize (again!) that the Fast is not about food. It's not about not eating. That's just the symbol. The Fast is about cleansing the spirit, becoming more spiritual.
Not for the first time I began wondering, "Just what does that mean, exactly—being spiritual?" The Baha'i Faith has so many wonderful images for spiritual concepts: the soul is described as a lamp, a mirror, a streambed. The bounty and love of God is a light, the sun, a river, the ocean, the rain.
Lately I've been drawn to the water images. I have lots of experience being grimly determined about scrubbing my "mirror" clean. But this Fast is teaching me that spiritual growth is so much more than that. There's a prayer written by an early Baha'i that describes becoming a hollow reed. Baha'u'llah (the Founder of the Baha'i Faith) describes prayer as a "fountain of living waters whereby I may live as long as Thy sovereignty endureth…" Love flowing like water, cleansing and purifying all in its path—this is what I needed to hear at this moment. 'Abdu'l-Baha (Baha'u'llah's Son) talks about cleaning the streambed so the water can flow.
The Fast is a time of sacrifice — giving up food to focus on one's spiritual development. I always thought of sacrifice as letting go of the things I want. But I'm discovering that it is also letting go of the things I don't want. One morning we had a familiar scene in our house of chores that had been forgotten. I found that old frustration rising up again. But this time I was focused on being the hollow reed and instead, I let it go. To my surprise, that flow of love just washed it away. Really? Is it that simple?
Later I found myself on the receiving end of negativity from other people. Still focused on being that clear channel, I discovered that the negativity just bounced off me. It didn't disturb my inner peace and flow. Wow! This is amazing.
Every day of the Fast I've been eager to wake up, wanting to see what I'll discover next, looking forward to practicing what I've learned. The Fast is like school for me. I learn things during this time that I then strive to master over the course of the coming year.
What I'm learning this year is the Fast is less about food and more about joy. What could be more spiritual than allowing that love to flow through me—to see it cheer the hearts of those around me, and to watch it heal my own heart as it flows through? What could be more joyful?