Wali Ali in Kansas City, U.S.A 2011, photo by Mudita Sabato
EDITOR’S NOTE
The words of Wali Ali are put in bold print so that those who wish may easily find them by skimming. Contributor’s words are in italics, even when they are thought rather than spoken. Any third person named or quoted in a story has given permission for that.
Readers, please understand that when authors quote Wali Ali’s speech, they are usually giving “best guess” according to memory – sometimes by editor’s request because direct quotation flows faster and gives more flavor than paraphrasing.
🔷 A blue diamond emoji indicates what may be some “incursion” from beyond into our ordinary reality. Other emojis will be explained in FORMATTING, EDITING, along with remarks about the process of editing.
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Paula Saffire
AFTER HIS DEATH: BIRTH OF THE TREASURY
November 25, 2022. I wake. It is the day after Wali Ali took his last breath. He was – he is – the presence of love. My grief seems swamped by awe – at the gift of having known him for 18 years. The sheer luck of it. Of all whom I have known, Wali Ali carried the fullest range of Murshid Sam’s qualities. He had the insight, the fearlessness, the humor of Sam. He had Sam’s fire and light. Sam’s conciseness when needed. Sam’s love – a sweet, tough, doing love. And he was real. Always real.
I mull over the gift of knowing him. I let the memories sift themselves. I refuse to search for memories. I will let those with the most potency – is that it? – rise to the surface. I look at the clock: 3:41, my childhood address, always a sign. I start to write.
It is now the third day, and these stories are still arising in my mind, as if an endless movie reel. I think, “Maybe this will stop. And maybe I’ll forget which stories surfaced. I’ll type them up.” Because I am an ardent (Virgo) archivist, I can find the date of each gift of memory.
I type the opening: Here is what meant the most, what helped the most, what dazzled, what made me reel from awe or appreciation. 🔷 And then, to my astonishment, my fingers type words I never thought. I see them on my laptop screen:
Here, I lay out my gifts for you to see. ‘
What are your most precious gifts?
I would love for us to know this man together.
And so, the Treasury is born. I tell Munir about this, who tells. Darvesha, who tells Zardusht. And suddenly I am part of the Ruhaniat effort to preserve the memory of Wali Ali. Here is my “movie reel.”
THE MOVIE REEL: HIS MANY GIFTS
1. 2004. ACCEPTANCE, OPENNESS. Wanting to attend Wali Ali’s esoteric class at a Dance Retreat, I asked him whether I might be present though I was not his student, which was the requirement. “Yes.”
After attending class, I realize: I want to know and experience the ‘Wali-Alified’ version of myself. I ask, “Might I become your student?” “Yes.” And he adds, “I always know who is my student. Sam did, too. Only in one case was the student not recognized at once.”
But then I need to add: “I am a Meher Baba person. I am plugged into him. And if that would prevent my being your student, so be it.” “Yes. We see God in everyone. We can see God in Meher Baba. That shouldn’t be a problem.” The beauty of Ruhaniat openness!
2. 2005, 2011. LOST IN LOVE. 2a. 2005. I remember losing myself in his eyes when we were dancing Ya Hayy Ya Haqq just before he initiated me into the Ruhaniat. 2011. I remember gazing with starstruck love while being initiated into the Jamiat Khas.
3. 2013. BRINGING ME BACK TO LIFE. I am at a Wazifa Retreat with Wali Ali. Months earlier I had a bad bout of pneumonia, with quite a fever. I would go to bed at night thinking, “I might not wake up.” I was reconciled to that, but I did feel that I wanted to know my husband better. I recovered. It was just one more worldly event in my mind, so I never told Wali Ali.
At the Retreat, we are being interviewed one by one, so Wali Ali can decide what group of Names to put us in. “What do you want from this Retreat?” he asks. “I want to be able to die with equanimity,” I tell him. “It’s a wish that came to me during my pneumonia.” He gives me a sharp, inquiring look. “In fact,” I affirm, “that’s all I want. Ever.” Another searching look.
With one last penetrating look, he says, “You haven’t come back from death yet. I’ll put you in a Names group that will bring you back.” He puts me in the Qayyum group. I am stunned but sense that he is right.
And so it happened: I felt the first stirrings while repeating “Ya Quddus, Ya Jami’.” There was a kind of re-knitting of fibers; the basket of my life appeared again. There was even a hint of joy.
4. 2011. APPRECIATION OF 99 NAMES FLOW. We are in his cabin at a Retreat. I am performing the Names Flow for him, the tai-chi like sequence of movements for the 99 Names, which I have worked on for years. All that effort and concentration! He glows watching me. I remember feeling, “If it were just for this look on his face, it would have been worth it.”
5. 2006. INVITATION TO WORK ON PHYSICIANS OF THE HEART. I had been taking his Esoteric Course. He asked for corrections if we found the need. I nit-pickily commented that a comma was needed before “we” in the Healing Prayer: “And, we pray, heal our bodies, hearts and souls.” And I sent in other corrections. This invitation was his response:
“I am going to begin to do some serious sustained work for the next 6 months or so on the book(s) that I have been asked to edit rising out of conversations called ‘the wazifa project’. I thought with your skills as a close reader that it might be useful to send you some of the raw work as it is evolving for suggestions as to details, language, etc. Are you interested?”
Of course I accepted this invitation to help edit early versions of Physicians of the Heart. And how fertile the process was for me! I entered into the meaning of the 99 Names much more deeply because I wanted to help Wali Ali make the text crystal clear. It was a gift beyond imagining, which enriched me for life.
6. 2011. HELP WITH 99 NAMES. I taught a course in my home for three years on the 99 Names, based on Physicians of the Heart, with Wali Ali’s permission and with his help. He was so generous. I always receive a quick response when I had a question about what I’d be teaching.
After that, I co-taught a course called “Leaping out of Stuckness.” One of my contributions was the choice of a guiding Name for each class. For one class I wanted the salutation Ya ‘Aziz for our opening. How to capture the essence in English? I tried. “You, who hold the strength of Being, who strengthens us with the soul’s dignity.” Clumsy, repetitive. All my attempts fail.
As always when in doubt on Names, I consult Wali Ali. I wait breathlessly. When my email is about teaching, his response usually comes swiftly. Three hours before class the rescue-email arrives: “O Omnipotent strength rooted in the intrinsic beauty and worth of the immortal soul.” Awesome! And so is Wali Ali’s modest ending: “There’s my off-the-cuff stab at a translation. love, waliali” How can I not miss him?
7. 2011, 2017. INSTANT DIAGNOSIS. 2011. Wali Ali instantly unravels my problems with a Dance mentee, after years of a difficult relationship. Two sentences do the job: “She should never have been your Dance mentee. She was assigned to you by X and resented that.” 2017. Wali Ali validates my campaign, questioned by others, to maintain a certain level of attunement in the Dances held at my home: “It’s your home.”
8. 2006. HUMOROUSLY OBLIQUE. I was remembering something he told me once: “Sam always said, ‘Give me material.’ I, too want material. If something is troubling you, tell me.” I had never done it. I won’t consult a doctor unless my life is in danger; I won’t ask God for a parking space. But now my husband Stephen has done something that really gets my goat. “OK,” I think to myself, “Wali Ali said he wants material? I’ll send it!” And so I do: “My husband blah-blah-blah… didn’t apologize …. blah blah blah … ”
In his return email, Wali Ali suggests that I do a home retreat. But he never says a single word about my story! Actually, his P.S. says it all: “Please convey my condolences to Steven on the Colts perennial playoff stumble.” My initial reaction: “ ‘Condolences to Stephen’ ??? I thought I was the one who needed condolences!” Next, I have to admit: “Okay, messaged received: He wants material, but not the kind of I sent. I won’t do that again!”
Strangely enough, it is not until 2022, 16 years later — when I am tracking down this provocative P.S. – that I even notice its second half: “Human psyches are indeed bound together in an incredible patchwork.” So true!
9. 2014. FEARLESS, TRUTH-TELLER – or is that LOVING SCOLD? I send Wali Ali an email explaining my fury over an act of supreme ingratitude by an in-law. Lots of justification. And blah-blah-blah. In essence: a tantrum. Wali Ali calls me out for it in an email:
“dear paula, imperfections in others that impact your world often seem to evoke rage and agitation of nafs. quite appropriate to say estaferallah for one’s forgetfulness of unity at such times. arguing with him will only allow you to vent and to win an argument in your mind. whatever help he needs to change will need to come from someone he can accept. your job is simply to be paula in her eternal movement in and toward the one, an activity of god. love, waliali
Such a refreshing slap! He has no fear of my disliking his response. He can’t be bought. Teaching comes first for him. Always. Who now will challenge me like this? Who will say, “Oh, come on, Paula! Pull yourself up by your own bootstraps” – and love me while saying it?
10. 2007. UNVARNISHED. He just is. For his second Retreat in Indiana I suggest the title “Pure Unvarnished Being.” He turns that down for something he perhaps finds more inviting: “Sun & Moon: Exploring Radiance.” For me Unvarnished Being is inviting; it is the most inviting — part of Wali Ali’s greatness.
11. 2010. UNVARNISHED. I am walking behind him in an airport corridor. We are heading toward the same plane, for his Wazifa Retreat. I don’t say hello. I want to take this in. I marvel. He looks so shabby – shabby clothes, not smooth-shaven. The bag he carries is shabby. “Wow. He looks like the male equivalent of a bag lady. Who in this corridor, besides me, can possibly guess the splendors inside?” Wali Ali just is. I know no one like him. Plain, unvarnished being.
12. 2016. RECOGNITION: BOOK BLURB. I have asked Wali Ali if he might write a blurb for my book, Hands-On Spirituality. I expect a no. His praise is generous beyond my imagining. “ … a dedicated and brilliant teacher working in an accepting and inclusive way … and insisting only on honesty. The process that unfolds is marvelous to observe …” I am so grateful for his recognition of what I have been doing in my college course. He is so supportive, so appreciative – of us all.
13. 2017. THE TAILOR-MADE GIFT: ZEN AFFIRMATION. This is the big one, the gift that keeps on giving.
I had never been drawn to the Zen path. I appreciated the teachings of the Buddha, but I wanted bliss, drama. One spring in 2016, while visiting Meher Baba’s home in Myrtle Beach, I received a gift not of my asking: a weeklong period of almost no thoughts, which began on Easter Sunday. This totally unexpected (and exquisite) state persisted when I got home. I killed it by working twelve hours straight on taxes. I lamented the passing of the state. I never noticed how it continued to sculpt me, below my radar. The state returned at the same time next spring and survived taxes. It lasted a week again, then dulled over time.
Now, in 2017, retired from college teaching, I am finally able to come to a gathering of mureeds. I tell Wali Ali I can spend a few days in San Francisco on retreat after the gathering and ask if he will give me instructions. “I’ll do any practices you ask me to do.” He asks me where I am spiritually, to see what sort of practices he might assign.
Now I have to examine myself and reveal my state – to him and to myself. I’ve been avoiding this. I can see some of the effects of the sculpting. But the truth is: I have an unconscious fear. “Maybe I’m just sliding into some weird kind of spiritual lethargy. Maybe this is just one more turn on the spiral of being not-quite-back in life.” I’m uncomfortable emailing him about the changes, but I do it:
“What draws me is Nothingness. I used to feel a sort of dissonance between spiritual paths. Not any longer. Anything that works is “Nothing-ish” for me. Names of God. Om Namah Shivaya. Sitting still. It’s as if it is all Toward the None (rather than the One). I have no resistance I know of to any practice. I am not drawn by much. As for what to ‘assign,’ I am puzzled, too. What first came to me was walking the streets and remaining undistractedly in a state of awareness of the whole. That still seems good.” My unspoken, underlying question: “Am I OK?” Wali Ali responds to this question with a quotation from Sokei-an:
“There are four periods in Zen study. In the first period you realize Samadhi. In the second period you realize wisdom. In the third you realize emptiness, and in the fourth you are affirming everything and there is nothing that you can deny in the world. You will affirm from God to bedbug.” [Sokei-an in Holding the Lotus to the Rock]
I feel validated, recognized, encouraged. Instead of wondering whether I am sliding downhill, I begin to embrace the changes and let them develop. I devour Sokei-an’s books, as if I am reading the story of my life. And I am still, to this day, being sculpted by those magical two weeks of non-thinking. That’s quite a gift! Thank you, Wali Ali.
14. 2017, 2018. DOG SITTING. In 2017 Wali Ali sends a thrilling invitation, asking if I can dog sit for him for three weeks in summer: “We have two lovely dogs …. Shakur would help with dog walking. You could sleep in my bed and have access to the front room where Murshid taught and the downstairs meeting area where he also taught.” I still believe that this invitation to dog sit – so that Wali Ali and his family can go to Northwest Sufi Camp – was the unexpected fruit of my odd suggestion that he give me the practice of walking the streets!
Twice I spent three weeks with Bart and Sheba – in the summers of 2017 and 2018. It was amazing to live in Murshid Sam’s home, in Wali Ali’s home. My love of the Dances, already strong, was enlivened. My desire to have a dog again was awakened; beauteous Sasha now dwells in my home. And who knows what other blessings continue to arise from those weeks at 410 Precita?
DURING HIS DYING
15. Nov 21, 2022. Monday, early morning. I read the email: Wali Ali has been brought home to make his transition. I am incredibly tired all day long. In response? Am I with him? I don’t know. I’m often tired.
Nov 22. Tuesday my breathing, always slow, is even more slow. It is as if each breath is an event, almost a surprise. I comment on this to my friend over lunch – which nails it in my memory. That night I read the message about Wali Ali: “Breath is deep and long.” Yes, I do feel that I am with him.
Nov 23. Wednesday. I get up very early and wash dishes, do other chores. Now I am freezing — too cold to stay in the kitchen. I go back to bed and wrap myself in my blankets. I’m still freezing, my feet so cold they hurt. I take Stephen’s blanket and double-wrap myself, under and over, around the bottom of my feet. I stay wrapped, feet still freezing, for five more hours. Finally I am able to get up and have some food. Is Wali Ali losing all the heat in his extremities?
Nov 24. Thanksgiving Day. I receive the email: Wali Ali took his last breath at 7:40 a.m. California time. 🔷 Yes, I do believe I was with him in his dying process. For some reason this means a lot to me.
GRATITUDES
16. 2006 and forever. Wali Ali has given me instructions for my first solo Retreat at home. While repeating Ya Shakur, I have what my friend Linda used to call a “gratitude attack.” I am overwhelmed by all the help I’ve been given throughout my life. I sit down and list 108 people to whom I am grateful. Later I call or send mail to the ones who are still alive and reachable, and I address the others within.
So now, in 2022, I gather all my gratitudes to Wali Ali. There is no pail big enough to hold them. Who could describe the grace of having him as teacher? Who could tally the blessings? Endless thanks to you, beloved teacher!
… LATER
17. Later more strong memories arise: Cold Hands. Swan Stick. Towed by Bart. And so on… (See Paula Saffire # 35.) But the stories above are still most dear.
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[1] Zardusht (Chet) Van Wert
1. “TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON WITH YOU.” I was initiated by Wali Ali in 1974 and was an original resident of Khankah SAM. I spent time in my Murshid’s presence almost every day for more than three years – morning practices, communal dinners, Saturday workdays on the newly purchased Norwich Street houses, and retyping Murshid SAM’s letters/diaries in his office. I was in Wali Ali’s presence a lot, and this period of physical nearness planted a seed that has remained clear to me ever since, but one that took … <sigh> … a very long time to germinate.
In a talk he gave on initiation in December 1975, Wali Ali said this, which applies to mureeds like me: “A lot of things that Murshid left us, people realize in gradual stages … and some things take a lot of time.” That’s the story of my relationship with Wali Ali and his acceptance of the time it took me to grow up spiritually.
I left San Francisco in 1978, but Wali Ali and I maintained our relationship over the years, through my changes and his. Regardless of how much time passed or the circumstances in my life or his, our meetings always began the same way: first, a mutual eruption of joy, then we would sit and he would look at me with that bursting-with-love look of his, 100% focused and present, and he would ask, “Tell me what’s going on with you.”
This was an invitation, I understood, to take a step forward, to say that “what’s going on” was that I was evolving, that I wanted to take the next step. There was no particular expectation on his part, just an open door and a sincere curiosity, the loving attention he refers to when he explains the meaning of Ya Raqib to students in the God Is Breath course.
Year after year, “Tell me what’s going on with you.” In those moments, he communicated an energy that was both completely receptive to my state and, at the same time, all-consumingly, lovingly radiant. This invitation, this open door, was a constant over the years.
I often did not step up. I’d say, “Oh, everything is good.” My family, my work, my spiritual practices, whatever. From time to time, he would ask about my interest in some spiritual activity or even an initiation. My answer generally boiled down to, “I’m waiting for a sign. I see this open door, but I’m not sure I’m ready.” This wasn’t an excuse, it was how I really felt. He never pushed me, but his invitation remained open despite my holding back.
Year after year, “Tell me what’s going on with you.” My stubborn reply – can you imagine? – “I’m looking for confirmation that I should take the next step.”
On one occasion, Wali Ali wrote this to me: “Recently I have been feeling out the possibility of your being given the initiation of ‘Sufi’ (9th degree). How do you feel about taking on the role of a teacher on the Sufi path? Please don’t hesitate to be frank about whatever is up for you.” I replied, “One can only feel honored to be asked this question by his teacher. I think being a teacher is the highest possible calling. But the short answer to your question is that I don’t think I’ve received that inner initiation, so asking for the outer initiation feels wrong.” Can you imagine? I really said that!
Again, I received no argument, and ultimately I never received that initiation from Wali Ali. He took seriously the saying that “there is no compulsion in Sufism.” Of course, given the infinite variety of paths to realization, neither the teacher nor the prophet can carry us up the mountain. What would be the point of that? What would we learn? How would we grow?
Instead, much more profoundly, the teacher makes the commitment to travel our path with us. “Tell me what’s going on with you.” As Rumi might have put it, Wali Ali would lovingly stand by my side as I broke my vows a thousand times – a heartbreakingly beautiful commitment. For decades. Can you imagine the patience? The love?
Forty years after I left San Francisco, Wali Ali supervised a weeklong retreat I took at Khankah SAM. He gave it considerable thought – I have since found several drafts of his retreat program for me in his files. He also met with me in the late afternoon every day – a real blessing!
One afternoon during that retreat, I brought a list of questions I had for him. Before I could ask, he answered each one completely. There was no possible way for him to have seen that handwritten list in my pocket, and so there was nothing left for me to ask but, “Murshid, can you read my mind?”
“Yes,” he answered. Then he turned and paused for a very long silence, facing the door. I thought he had something to tell me, perhaps something criticism, but definitely something important. In the end, he said nothing and the interview was over. I wish I had heard his unspoken message…
Ultimately, I found that he had taught me the truth that he writes about in his commentary on Fana-fi-Sheikh – that fana is not a one-way commitment. It is, in fact, the realization that we are one. Not that we will become one in some cosmic Toward the One moment, but that we already ARE one. We have been one all these years and we remain one. I felt this sure knowledge every day through the last year of his life and I feel it more strongly every day since then. Of course he knew it all along. Too bad it took me the lion’s share of a lifetime to realize it.
So yes, some things take a lot of time. “Tell me what’s going on with you.” This was my koan, if only I had realized it. I may be ready to pass it now.
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[2] Eve Earley
1. 2007. CHANGED BY A BRIEF ENCOUNTER. Wali Ali was leading a Retreat in Indiana in 2007. I was not feeling very good about myself at that time. Toward the end of our retreat, I came to Wali Ali as partner in a dance, for a moment. It was a brief encounter; we were not partners for the whole dance. The way he looked at me, with such openness and love, affected me deeply and changed me. It was a long glance. I felt emotion, probably sadness, maybe forgiveness and love of myself, and tears came. I felt, “If he can love me so beautifully, unconditionally, and utterly completely, then maybe I am worthy of being loved. And maybe I can love myself.”
[Paula Saffire: I later asked Eve: Was it really a unique, life-changing experience? Her answer: “Yes. He gave me permission. I felt the love. I felt the love for me as a witness. I’m getting teary. I could love myself – this person who could be lovable. I didn’t feel any sense of self love until I got it from him. After that I was at ease with myself, content. Before I had been depressed. After that I had stable self-worth.”]
2. 2013. RECOGNITION: LOOKING GOOD. I attended a Wazifa Retreat with Wali Ali. Wali Ali was available for short meetings about our retreat practice. I took full advantage of those. After a few days I walked in for my third meeting. He took one look at me and said, “You look pretty good! What are you doing here?” I had to agree with him that I felt quite good, and I left.
3. 2013. TIME STOOD STILL. On our last evening, Wali Ali appeared in Sam’s long, simple yellow tunic. He just stepped into the middle of the circle and stood there with presence, looking at us, turning around a little to see us. It’s hard to describe the experience, but time stood still. I felt peaceful, whole and connected.
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[3] Tawwaba Bloch
1. 2005. ACTING ON GUIDANCE. Wali Ali was offering a retreat at the Sussmans’ country home in western Massachusetts. I went in for my mureed’s interview. Before I could say anything, Wali Ali asked me to be his esoteric secretary. I was speechless. We weren’t close. Although I had been on the path since 1997, I had taken hand with him just a few years earlier, transferring from another guide.
“I am very honored, but I don’t get it. Why me?” I asked.
“I don’t get it either,” he replied. “I need help, and this was my guidance.”
“So what’s my job description?”
“I don’t’ have a clue. I just know I need help and you’re the person to ask.”
“But I’m in New Hampshire and you are in California.”
“You’ll never be asked to do anything you can’t do.”
I’ve done many different things in my life. I have been a waitress and a homesteader, off the grid in a handbuilt home, growing most of our food. I made custom handwoven clothes, as well as managing other weavers and apprentices in a wholesale retail production business. I was a psychotherapist at the time of this meeting, owning and managing a healing arts center. Along the way I became skilled in computer graphic design and coding.
Personal computers were always my friend. Using them, I had become registrar and manager for Dance leadership trainings, Sufi camps and retreats. Other than that, I didn’t see at the time how my work experience prepared me for this role. But everything I had learned was used in some way for this job.
Wali Ali simply knew, at the beginning, “I need help.” After that, I knew what help he needed, often before he did. If didn’t know how to do it, I could learn the skills.
2. 2006. WALI ALI’S NEW OFFICE.
In the fall of 2005, after completing his first assignment at home using my computer, I wrote to Wali Ali, “If you could find a place I could housesit for a month or so this winter, I could come to California. If I work alongside you. I think I could learn a lot more I could do to help.” (Not to mention getting out of frigid NH.)
Two days later Wali Ali replied, “Shabda’s going to Hawaii with Tamam in January after the Sesshin and he needs a house sitter.”
I attended the Sufi Sesshin and then I went to Shabda’s home in Terra Linda. I was intimidated, imagining he and Tamam lived in some especially spiritual place, pristine in every way of course. I was relieved to see their lovely suburban life. We had one hour, and they were leaving the next day.
Shabda showed me around and indicated what I should care for in their absence. When we entered his office in the daylight basement he said, “The reason I’m asking you do this is that I just contracted with Wali Ali to edit a book (Physicians of the Heart.) His workstation at home now is his laptop on a tall bureau in the kitchen, with a 2-year-old running around. Make him a desk here with filing cabinets and the necessary tech equipment to create a really functional workspace. I will tell Wali Ali that he has to come four days a week while you’re there. He’ll get into a rhythm that way.”
3. 2006. “KEEPER OF THE SECRETS.” I came back for another few weeks in March. At this point I worked in that basement office with both Shabda and Wali Ali. We would either have lunch upstairs in Shabda’s home or go to a Chinese place at the mall nearby. At lunch there, I learned that one of my main functions was silence. One day Wali Ali and Shabda were in the office discussing people on matters that seemed confidential. I said, “I’m good at not hearing.” Wali Ali said,
“No, you need to listen to all of this. Esoteric Secretary means ‘Keeper of the Secrets.”
4. 2007. WORKING SIDE BY SIDE. I started working in the Mentorgarten office in 2007. Wali Ali and I spent so much time working together there, just feet away from each other. People thought that was very intimate. It was but was not. We rarely talked face to face in the office. We would email each other if we needed to communicate.
5. 2008. “TRAIN WRECK!” From so much time together, we did develop a sort of private language of shorthand phrases. For instance: “TRAIN WRECK!”
I was taught in my family that I had been given a sharp brain and the ability to look at possibilities and see likely outcomes. And that it was my responsibility to use that gift to be a warner of coming dangers. Wali Ali noticed this tendency in me and pointed something out about my hypervigilance. One day, he illustrated this with his phrase and a gesture.
“You see two trains approaching each other at speed. From your perspective, you think they are about to crash.” He illustrated this with a gesture with the back of his two hands facing me, fingers moving horizontally, directly toward each other.
“You jump out with your red flag yelling ‘Stop, Stop!’ You are giving your warning: ‘TRAIN WRECK!’ “
Then he turned his hands 90°, palms down. This was the view of the trains from above. There was a gap between the hands that made it evident they would simply pass each other on their own tracks.
“So when you jump out there with that flag, the train near you veers to avoid you and runs into the other train, causing the crash you were trying to prevent.”
For example, with permission: Wali Ali invited Paula Saffire to be a dog sitter in the summer of 2017. His house could be messy. So I jumped in with my red flag: “Wali Ali, will you get a housecleaner before she comes?” His simple response: “TRAIN WRECK!”
And indeed, there was no collision. Yes, there were bed sheets in the washing machine, which Paula turned on after arriving. And yes, there was dog hair on the blanket of Wali Ali’s bed – a playground where Bart and Sheba would snooze, play, and mock-fight. But Paula walked to the Khankah, borrowed fresh blankets, and found a way to sleep with fur-free bedding for three weeks.
6. 2013. “AM I SMILING?” When Wali Ali was envisioning the God is Breath series, he asked me to lead Ya Shakur Allah and Ya Quddus Ya Jami’, two of Maboud and Tara Andrea’s wazifah dances in the first class. I said, “You know why I stopped leading dances…”
(History: I had come to Sufi dancing in 1987 in the Bay Area, and was immediately and irreversibly hooked. At that time they were primarily led by Murshid Sam’s direct mureeds. I was peripherally aware Saadi and Tasnim’s the initiative to fully institutionalize these practices as the Dances of Universal Peace.
I moved to NH and was drawn to lead the Dances simply to get my “supply.” After a few months I received a surprising phone call from X, who lived a thousand miles away: “You aren’t certified. Do you know you shouldn’t be leading without a mentor?” (How did she even know I was leading?). This was my first contact with this certification and the expectations and requirements. Wanting to be a good girl, I found a mentor and diligently worked toward certification.
In the trainings we were taught the requirement to lead a dance as it had been created by the originator. This was so different from what I had experienced in California where the mantras were established but the gestures and even the exact melody might vary to different degrees in the moment. The focus there was on attunement, not originator.
In the process of feedback I wound up internalizing the Dance Police. The result was that although I felt fully attuned, in my bliss, while leading a Dance, as soon as it ended I experienced self-doubt and shame. It didn’t matter how attuned or effective the actual dance had been. My inner critic would flay me. I began to lose that bliss and chose to let others lead. I could always touch it when dancing.)
Wali Ali knew all this. And now he wanted to have me lead in a program that was going to be video recorded for the first time? Anyone who took the course would be able to see.
He said “If someone calls you out on something, ask them if they could see me on the recording. Do I look happy? Am I smiling? That is all that matters.”
And so it came to pass. The first time I led Ya Shakur Allah, a few people contacted me, wondering about the way I led it. But there in the video, for all to see, was Wali Ali smiling.
7. 2022. THANKS GIVING. I visited Wali Ali a few times when he was living at the Ashram care facility. Our estrangement had been wiped away, like ‘Afuw, leaving not a trace on my heart. While the word salad of his dementia flowed, we met soul to soul. Mostly we would just laugh together. In retrospect, this was the sweet spot before things suddenly went downhill. He became agitated and difficult for the Ashram staff to manage.
He went home for a respite with Sabura, but within days, he was on hospice. I wasn’t involved in that last week. I just knew he didn’t want to be the person that the dementia was creating. But I knew from our visits that this tragic disease did not touch his soul. Just as he taught: The soul cannot be improved or diminished.
🔷 But on that last Tuesday I heard him say distinctly in my heart:
“I will die on Thanksgiving, so you will know that my final transmission is ‘I am grateful for the life I was given.’”
And so it was.
Thanksgiving will always be his Urs day for me. No matter the calendar date. I am thankful for the immeasurable gift of serving Wali Ali and through that, the transmission of Murshid Sam and the message of Hazrat Inayat Khan.
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[4] Anahata Iradah
1. 1994. A NATURAL TO INTERVIEW, MANTRA. After many years of dancing and only hearing stories about Wali Ali, it was announced that he would be on staff at the next Lama dance retreat. I believe it was the summer of 1994. I was on staff as well so I knew our paths would cross. I was also approaching the end of my filming for the movie “Eat, Dance and Pray Together” and I looked forward to the possibility of Wali Ali’s granting me an interview.
It was a glorious camp. Wali Ali was delighted to meet a new generation of leaders that had been coached and mentored by Saadi and Tasnim. Wali Ali invited me to be on staff at the next Mendocino Camp in California to represent the new wave of leaders that had developed whilst he was in the Midwest. But the crown jewel of our meeting for me was the interview he gave for the film. We agreed that it should be done at the gravesite of his teacher Samuel Lewis.
Wali Ali made my job as interviewer so easy. He was such a natural speaker and storyteller. At times it felt as if Murshid Sam was speaking through him. In fact at one point he said on film that Murshid Sam wanted to thank us, because we as the next generation were fulfilling his prophesy that the dances would spread around the world. I don’t think I had to do a single edit due to hesitation or mistake.
The interview was filled with quotable moments, all of which have stayed with me for over 25 years. One such quote: “Can you imagine that when you are doing an Om Mani Padme Hum dance how many people have gone on the raft of that mantra into full liberation?”
Murshid Wali Ali unlocked the mantra in my heart.
2. 1994. ELEPHANT TRAP. At some point in the middle of the week I told Wali Ali about a situation I was in that was a little uncomfortable for me. His response: “When God sets you an elephant trap you have no choice but to fall in.”
It was one of the most colorful and thoughtful responses I have ever received, because he had illuminated the exact nature of the situation for which there was no correct answer.
3. 1994. TAILOR-MADE GIFT: SAVING MY VIDEO. Some months later when a film I was working on came under attack, Wali Ali’s initial response was: “You cannot make a film by committee.”
He was moved to pass the film onto Pir Moineddin for his review. When Moineddin watched the film he publicly announced “There was so much actual baraka in this film that I wept for joy seeing the seeds Murshid Sam planted growing in the gardens of love all around the world. On with the Dance! On with the sacred Dance!” Six years of unbelievably hard work and fundraising protected by the final say of the Pir of the order! This was thanks to Wali Ali.
I have so much gratitude for the selfless and almost effortless way Wali Ali seemed to navigate the needs of whoever was in front of him. Now, as Wali Ali has exited this incarnation, my wish is that he is securely aboard the raft of Om Mani Padme Hum heading with swift ease to full liberation.
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[5] Munir (Peter) Reynolds
1. 1997. DARSHAN, WEEPING. I was attracted to the Dances of Universal Peace in the early 1990s and eventually became a regular at Wilderness Dance Camp, an annual, week-long DUP camp happening in Utah and other places. During that period Wali Ali attended as the ‘spiritual elder” at the camp, to give teachings and also to help ensure that the material being presented in the Dances was grounded in the various spiritual traditions and in universal Sufism. Wali Ali gave afternoon talks and walks classes, always well attended, in which he held the camp in rapt attention. I was greatly taken with his being, depth and teaching.
Finally at some point in about 1997 I got up my courage and asked for an interview with him. He was warm and very cordial. We sat, and he asked me a few questions and listened with his knowing and sometimes inscrutable look. Suddenly, he simply looked at me.
I will never forget that look…his eyes, his thick glasses, and the rather fierce expression on his face. Without warning I suddenly burst into tears. 🔷 In that moment, the entire Sufi path, the dharma, the infinite universe, the unfinished work in myself – were transmitted straight into my heart all at once. I felt that he saw into my soul, and I was seeing what he saw.
My mind had, and still has, a hard time processing this. It says something about the eternal perfection of the soul against the foreground of issues it was carrying, and the Truth of what lay ahead. All this became a major focus in my journey ever since.
These episodes of weeping happened more than once. I would simply be in Wali Ali’s presence at camp, or at a Jamiat and would have to retire to a private place like the men’s room just to put myself back together. Just being with him had the effect of eliciting a deep response or release of energy.
Murshid taught me what it means to travel “Toward the One.”
2. 1999. APPRECIATION. At Wilderness Camp around 1999, Wali Ali was not feeling well. He was having difficulties all week with his health. On the final morning he was scheduled to lead Dances. He asked me if I would help him present Murshid Sam’s Dervish Cycle of Dances. That morning I played the music and demonstrated the movements. Wali Ali was mostly quiet, but occasionally gave commentary on the meaning of the cycle, and seemed to be consolidating all of his energy to do this. I tried to follow his tempo and attunement through the cycle. At the end he looked exhausted, but we made it through.
Later as I was packing up to leave camp, I found a note on my luggage from Wali Ali. It read, “Munir, thank you.“
3. 2011? IN SOME VAST STATE. At a Jamiat Khas in Kansas City I was out for a walk around the lake, and then I saw Wali Ali coming toward me from the opposite direction. I thought, “Oh, this is the perfect opportunity to ask him a question.” We happened to come standing at the same spot on a bridge.
🔷. Our eyes met and I could see his presence was in some vast state. Not a vacant look but a look of intense contemplation and silent presence.” We briefly acknowledged one another and passed by on our way.
4. 2012. CO-LEADING WITH WALI ALI. In March 2012 Wali Ali and I co-led a retreat in Indianapolis. At the time I was struggling with some personal issues, so that difficulty was the background all weekend as he and I led Dances, gave teachings and wove our presentation together. At one pregnant moment Wali Ali gave an inspired teaching on “All My Relations”. It was an example of how he took the intensity of what was happening in any moment and brought exactly what was needed in terms of inspiration and realization. He spoke to me and to everyone about the real, and not just the apparent world of creatures and things. Until I embrace “all my relations” of inner selves, rejected parts, and sabotaging identities in choiceless awareness, I suffer as the limited false self.
Later that weekend on Sunday night, we co-led an evening of Dances for about 75 young people from Butler University. Members of the local dance circle were also present. It was the most memorable evening of Dances in my many years of leading them. Wali Ali was radiant and obviously having a wonderful time. The students had never danced before, but they threw themselves into it fully. Wali Ali and I seemed to work so well together that the energy keep going up and up. In the end, everyone including the students seemed to be glowing with ecstasy and delight. The experience was extremely uplifting. I will never forget it.
5. 2012. PLAYING MUSIC FOR WALI ALI. 2012. PLAYING MUSIC FOR WALI ALI. In March 2012, Wali gave a weekend in retreat at the Odd Fellows Hall in Ballard, Washington. He asked me to play music to accompany his dances and walks. Something extraordinary occurred during Wali Ali leading his Ya Hayoo Ya Qayoom dance. The improvised music and the movements, the dancers merged into an ineffable unity. Something about the rhythm, the music, and Murshid’s attunement evoked in me an experience of vastness and timelessness, of God’s being. When the dance ended we all stood facing the center of the circle. That moment forever remains like a snapshot pinned in my heart.
6. 2017. LEADING RAM NAM. Around August 2017 I was attending Wali Ali’s esoteric class at NW Sufi Camp and he suddenly said, “Munir, lead that Ram Nam that I like.” I started leading the Ram Nam that I thought he wanted, but I could tell by the look on his face that this one was not the correct one! Somehow I got through it and he rather brusquely moved on to the next material. That night I had a hard time sleeping. “I let him down.” It was important to me to please him and be of service and also be seen as competent in his eyes. All those stories. I also thought, “I lost my chance to prove myself.”
Next morning in the same class Wali Ali again said, “Munir, lead that Ram Nam that I like.” It was as if the previous day had not happened! But, this time I knew what he wanted, and led the Grace Ram Nam for the class. I felt amazed by this experience.
7. Undated. LETTING GO. Many years ago I met with Wali Ali in his room at the Jamiat Khas about my difficulty with an issue. He said two things that have reverberated down through the years. “You have to lie down in front of the door you want to go through.” I had never heard this way of speaking about surrender. Sometimes no matter how much we want to be free, it seems that God does not remove the thorn in our side. Waiting patiently at the door of surrender is sometimes all we can do.
But then he also said: “You’re going to have to find your original face before the universe was created.” This well-known Zen koan sounded startling and completely impossible to me at the time. But I oddly understood at some level what he meant. Keeping this I Am presence before me became a major practice. The last time I saw Wali Ali I told him that what he guided me to do was being revealed. He smiled in a twinkly way but didn’t say anything.
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[6] Donna Walia De Mille
1. 1960s – 1990s. MY PATH OF GUIDANCE TO INITIATION. High school graduation, Chicago 1967: After the ceremony, as we take off our white gowns, a best friend whispers, “Don’t tell anyone, I’m going to San Francisco tomorrow, want to come with?” I say “What? You couldn’t give me a little notice? I have to save money, pack a bag!” And then I think, “NOPE, Not San Francisco. Not the hippy scene. Not for me.” Still I am grateful that she expressed this determination to go where she wanted to go. It opens a door for me.
Freshman year of college: My first boyfriend is going to Rome his sophomore year. And my next-door neighbor is going to Europe for a year-abroad program. “I can do that too! Where does my soul want me to go?” And these are the days when you just packed a bag and drifted around and things happened. And I am that kind of a gal.
I go to Vienna for a year-abroad study program. On my journey back home, I stop in London and love it. But I force myself to go home. “Everything is set up: place to stay, job, boyfriend (wink wink). But I could stay in London. Neh! I have to go back to Chicago and finish up my degree – (laughing) dammit!”
In Chicago: I know the whole time I am going back to London. And I do. I buy a one-way ticket and leave. “No plans! Just go!” It was just wild and crazy times, I don’t mind sayin.’ Wild and crazy times!
I have no plan to settle in London; it just works out that way. About five years in, I get pushed on to the Path. And it is not a pretty story, not spiritual. I’m in a relationship that ends badly and ask, “What’s going on in my life?” I see there’s a psychic fair. “I don’t vibe with that kind of stuff, but I’ll try it.”
The reader tells me, “You have to recognize your spiritual nature.” My thought: “Um, forget about it.” She continues: “Give yourself three weeks. Follow anything that interests you in the slightest. And keep a sense of humor. Because not everything works out.” A few weeks later I see a sign on St. James’ Church Piccadilly: “All are welcome to the Sufi Healing Order. Open to all who feel the Call of the Holy Spirit in Healing.” I like the sound of that.
Following the Guidance, as instructed, I go in. There are the most wonderful women, all practicing healing modalities I’ve never heard of: color healing, music therapy, art therapy, osteopathy. I am thirtyish; they are elders. At the first meeting they say, “Oh you’re so lucky. Pir Vilayat’s coming – in three weeks!” “Who’s that?” “You’re so lucky, you gotta go.” I’m still following Guidance. “I guess I gotta go.” And that was the beginning, in 1979. I stay in London five more years and those wonderful women mentor me.
Eventually, in 1985, the Path takes me back home to Chicago, where I am now. And things start rolling. The Madison WI community brings Pir Vilayat in for weekend retreats. And — what a blessing! — they have Dances of Universal Peace. They must have shown a video of Murshid Samuel Lewis. “That’s my kind of guy!” I think. (But if I’d gone to San Francisco in 1967, there’s no way, no way I could have withstood that direct contact with that Being. And even now I know, I couldn’t have withstood it.). So it all worked out.
Wali Ali was in the video, so I knew of his closeness to Murshid SAM. I started traveling to distant retreats with him. The first was at Lama, when Wali Ali had just returned to teaching. I could feel that he had maintained the transmission and I resolved that I would ask him to be my teacher. “If he says no, I’ll just ask him again later … and again, if I need to.”
“Why do you want me to be your teacher” he asks me. I answered, “Because your vibration is closest to Murshid Sam’s.”
“That’s right,” he says. “I need to meditate on this.” The next day he nods to me before class and tells me to stay afterwards. And he initiates me. He says, “I’m going to be more of a friend along the path.’”
And that’s what he has been. I didn’t meet with him often, but I could always feel the silver cord that connected us. He gave me guidance at a distance. I would send him check-in emails, but not on a regular basis. Once I was at a Jamiat in Madison. I hadn’t seen Wali Ali come in. But I heard his smiling warm voice say: “Here’s one of mine.”
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[7] Ali Charles
1. 2010. EMBODYING THE TEACHINGS: THE GREAT WAY. Murshid was very often teaching me with very few words, or even none at all. Coming to mind first is a time when I attended a Wali Ali seminar at a home near San Diego, California, many years ago. I was fortunate to have an interview with him some time on the first day. During the interview I brought up this teaching that had impressed me, from the Third Patriarch of Zen: a teaching that begins “The Great Way is not difficult for one who has no preferences.”
Murshid’s response to this indicated to me that he had heard this a number of times from other students, and while I don’t recall his exact words, it was something like “That’s not the whole story.” I took this to mean not to rely too much on this one phrase. I could see how that could lead to a kind of stand-still in one’s life if one decided to give up making choices or decisions as a result of having “no preferences”. Next day at the seminar, as the morning session was winding down, the host pointed out that it was getting close to lunch time, and asked Murshid if he wanted to lead another practice or dance, or shall we break for lunch. His response was simply, “I have no preference”.
As I recall, after a long pause someone just said, “Let’s dance”, and so we did. But I felt he was making a point!
2. Early 2000s. DANCE INSTRUCTIONS FROM THE MURSHID. Another time when Wali Ali was staying with our family during a seminar in the Los Angeles area, we noticed he did not seem to be sleeping well at night, and he confessed to having to deal with insomnia much of his life. But I had experienced this years earlier at a Mendocino Sufi Camp:
At the camp, Wali Ali had offered anyone interested in leading the Dances of Universal Peace the opportunity to sign up to lead a dance, just with him watching with some musicians, and he would then offer constructive feedback. So, I signed up, having had some limited practice at leading dances at one seminar or another. I was quite nervous and worried about making a mistake in front of my Murshid. So, I chose what seemed the easiest dance to remember the movements to, an “Estaferallah” dance. (I did not know at the time that this dance came from Wali Ali himself, in conjunction with his good friend Jelaluddin Loras.)
When my time came, I went to the dining hall where this meeting was being held. When I arrived, there were the musicians waiting to play whatever dance I wanted to present, and there was Wali Ali…lying on his back on a bench, fast asleep and snoring away.
I presented the dance anyway and received some helpful feedback from the musicians. But I left feeling I had missed the chance for Murshid’s feedback on my dance leading… and perhaps Allah was saying this was not for me.
Evening came, with the usual all-camp evening meeting. The teachers took turns presenting. It became Wali Ali’s turn, and what did he present? The “Estaferallah” dance.
Not only did he demonstrate how to lead it, but also made a timing error in the middle of it, and just continued on as though nothing had happened. I saw how the occasional mistake is natural, immediately forgiven by everyone, and not to be so worried about it.
Even more, I felt the great love-connection with Murshid, that is beyond words. We never spoke of it, and never needed to.
3. 2002. A DREAM OF DIVINE UNITY. I rarely remember my dreams and when I do, they are generally silly things, like not being able to find my car in a parking lot, then wondering if I am even in the right parking lot! But this was the other kind of dream that one has more rarely, that is quite vivid and clear and meaningful.
🔷 In this short dream, Wali Ali and I were standing together on a high balcony overlooking a wide natural area. I said to him, “I had to give up my concept of God, in order to find God.” He just looked at me and smiled; then we embraced and we entered into the ecstasy of oneness with the universe, that might be called Samadhi or Satori.
I awoke still feeling the ecstatic joy of experiencing that unity with Murshid and all creation. Once again, it was with no words from Murshid. But I will always remember that dream-life experience.
4. Over the years. REMEMBERING HIS HANDS. Regarding Wali Ali’s hands, I can say this: Whenever we held hands I immediately felt like a little kid. It was a blessing.
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[8] Aarifa Laughs Out Loud Stewart
1. 1982? INITIATION. Our beloved Wali Ali often told the story of how he met Murshid Sam. As I recall, he was working on his PhD, and the topic of his dissertation was “Cosmic Laughter.” In his research, he found himself in the Bay Area. When he told someone about his research topic, that person told Wali Ali that he should meet Murshid Sam. And he did just that. Academia was left behind. Wali Ali met his teacher.
Years later, a lab tech at the Berkeley Free Clinic where I volunteered invited me to go to the Monday night meeting where we would find a bunch of folks like ourselves – lovers of music and dance. So I found myself at the Monday night meeting on 18thStreet in San Francisco. My spiritual life was suffocating under the very serious and very angry anti-everything movements of the times. When I arrived, Zahir Stewart was sweeping the floor, preparing the space. I saw devotion and humility in this person. He was beautiful. The dancing was fun. “Fun” was the surface experience. At the break, everyone gathered around, sitting on the floor, and Wali Ali took 20 minutes to do a bit of teaching and answer questions. It was the first time I ever heard the word “sufi.” So, what’s a sufi? Wali Ali said: “The aim of the sufi is to see the face of God in everything that happens. And there is no dogma in sufism.”
I was 100% on board from that moment. As people were circling up once again, I scooted across the floor to Wali Ali and said – “This is totally on inspiration. Will you be my teacher?” He was startled… and then his arm went around my shoulders and he replied: “Well, if you are asking on inspiration, I will reply on inspiration. YES!”
And so, on that night I met my spiritual teacher, AND my husband, Zahir. Inwardly, everything else was left behind.
2. 1983?, 1994. LAUGHTER, A POTENT DREAM, A NEW NAME. A number of years later, Zahir and I and our newborn Sophia drove in a borrowed van to visit Malachite Farm in Colorado, investigating the possibility of moving there. The farm was not far from Lama Foundation, which I had never seen. So we made a day trip to visit there.
I carried Sophia in my backpack baby carrier as we climbed a dusty, rocky hill toward the dome. The thin air was already affecting me. I felt giddy. I tripped and fell, flipping Sophia off my back. I scooped her up and realized she was fine, and easily comforted. In my mood, I was still giddy and a bit beside myself. Approaching joy. Like, “What IS this place???” There was no doubt for me: Murshid Sam was near.
For my entire life I have experienced cyclical bouts of depression. Sometimes severe and long-lasting. In 1994 I was in the midst of one of these… feeling utterly alone in the dark for weeks. One day, the sound of someone’s laughter cut through the profound darkness. I noticed that it created a barely perceptible lift in my mood. I realized that laughter was my medicine. So I began to actively listen for laughter. The medicine was effective. It led me out of the darkness.
One night, I had a dream. It was not in places or pictures, but in sounds and feelings. A feeling of happiness flooded me, reminding me of the “beside myself giddiness and near joy” of Lama. And Murshid Sam was near. I was laughing in my sleep.
I was, in that dreamy way, remembering an Indigenous man I met at Lama that day when Sophia and I took our tumble. His name was Tell Us Good Morning. When Zahir introduced me, and I heard his name, I marveled at its beauty. AND, I found it to be a surprising and funny and joyful name. 🔷 The words “Laughs Out Loud” blossomed in my heart. I immediately understood it to be my name.
I wrote to Wali Ali about my experience, and he confirmed it.
3. 2022? “THAT WOMAN FROM CANADA.” My most cherished memories of Wali Ali have to do with the many, many times I became aware that he was tuning into my laughter. I am sure I am not the only one, but often he would make very funny statements – inspired! And from me would follow a burst of laughter. I could feel his appreciation of my appreciation of the inside joke.
The last time I had this experience was on Zoom. There was a Ruhaniat Family Gathering. I remember Rahmat Moore and Shabda being part of it… and Wali Ali and some other of our esteemed teachers. The news of Wali Ali’s cognitive decline had recently come out… but if you weren’t around him on the regular, it was not immediately apparent. Looking back, I can see that Shabda’s job was to make sure everyone had a chance to speak. When Wali Ali took his turn, he would swing from topic to topic, story to story. I didn’t realize this would never stop. I was resentful that people shut him down (gently, for sure). I wanted to hear every word and story he had to share. As he told one story, it prompted a burst of laughter from me. Wali Ali commented: “That woman from Canada knows what I am talking about.”
So there it was. He didn’t know my name. The name he had given me. But he knew the nature of Cosmic Laughter.
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[9] Musawwir Mike Walker
1. Undated. EVERY BREATH. I met Wali Ali at Maui Sufi Camp, it was one of my first camp experiences. Being new to Sufi practices and the dances I was moved. I experienced, “ …the first kiss of bliss”, one of many more experiences to come, there was much light, the sangha beautiful and lovely. As a newcomer I was in awe of the ubiquitous depth of musical and artistic talent. Further along my path, reading Hazrat Inayat Khan, “…God loves beauty”, I realized, of course this sangha would be blessed with this gift, it’s a living expression of the sangha’s silsila.
Wali Ali would teach and lead dances at camps and retreats. Our first conversation went something like this. “ I have never seen or experienced such a blessing, this sangha is a fountain of beauty and talent.” Wali Ali spoke, as if to say, where have you been, you are home now, welcome. In the most gentle and inviting manner, his words, “Oh, it’s always been this way” are as fresh today as when I first heard them.
Prior to my camp experiences, I had taken initiation in the Inayati Sufi Order. A few years passed, I attended the camps and dances. My heart continued to be opened by the dances and I felt the palpable presence of Murshid SAM. I learned there was an agreement between the Inayati Order and Ruhaniat that the blessing stream of the silsila could be conferred upon someone that had been initiated in the other order.
Fast forward to the Jamiat Ahm in Prescott. I approached Wali Ali and mentioned this agreement between the orders and expressed my wish to be blessed into the Ruhaniat so I could experience the silsila blessings to include Murshid SAM whose dances deeply moved me. His response was kind, gentle and warm. He took my hands, asked me a few questions, looked deep into my eyes and prayed a blessing, I felt complete. “Be sure and tell my personal assistant for the record” he instructed.
I learned from his teaching. His actions often taught more than his words. Among the lessons he taught me relative to this life, this is the most profound: Every breath I have is an opportunity to bring Love, kindness and gentleness into this world.
Wali Ali is kindness, gentleness and compassion. He enriched my life and everyone I touch.
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[10] Yaqin (Lance) Sandleben
1. Undated. DREAMS OF MURSHID SAM. When Wali Ali was in Prescott for a Jamiat Ahm a couple of years ago, he told us this: Murshid Sam told Wali Ali that when he (Murshid Sam) passed from the body, he would be in many people’s dreams after he passed, and it would never be a bad dream or nightmare. Wali Ali said: “I have had many, maybe a hundred people who told me they have had dreams with Murshid Sam in it. And not one was a bad dream.”
I am among those folks!
2. Undated. A BLAST OF ENERGY TRANSMITTED. At the same retreat in Prescott, the Jamiat Ahm, I was in charge of interfacing with the teachers, making sure the schedule was kept up, and so forth. It was just after dinner time, and folks were starting to move into an adjacent room for the evening program that Wali Ali was going to lead. There were still many folks sitting at dining room tables, making a lot of joyful noise, that unfortunately was clashing a bit with Wali Ali’s starting a walking practice in the adjacent room.
He came to me and blasted me with energy, saying, “It’s your job to move the remaining folks or else to quiet them.”
There was no anger, just pure energy, which I feel is still a part of me. I moved easily with confidence and purpose- accomplishing the transition. The experience reminded me of Murshid Sam’s experience with Inayat Khan, found in the “5 Meetings”, when he received a strong energy from Inayat Khan. I think Wali Ali may have had a similar experience with Murshid Sam.
🔷 To me, it felt like a passing down of a particular kind of Baraka.
3. Undated. WAZIFAS TO CALM ANGER. I was at a retreat once when someone expressed unkind thoughts, involving an old history about another Sufi teacher who was not at this retreat. This seemed to make Wali Ali mad. The next day, Wali Ali addressed the situation with clarity, and no trace of anger. I asked him later, “How were. you able to release the anger?”
He told me that after he left the gathering, noticing his own anger, he worked with three wazifas: Ya Muntaqim, Ya ‘Adl, Ya ‘Afuw, to pray for balance and clearing. “I poured my feelings into my recitation until the anger cleared.”
I was impressed by this. Since then I have used these Names to great effect. When I feel swept up in anger or other afflictive emotions, I give it some dedicated practice time and feel those emotions clear. “Like the tracks in the desert, disappearing in the wind.” (Ya ‘Afuw, from Physicians of the Heart.)
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[11] Cindy Lippon
1. Undated. DREAM DARSHAN. I am an “Outlander” Sufi. I touch in once in a while and partake of the lovely activities of the groups. I am a Shabda Mureed. I didn’t know Wali Ali and he didn’t know me… Or so I thought.
While at the Sufi Sesshin some years ago, in my sleep the first night, I had a dream that Wali Ali came to me. 🔷 Nothing was said between us, but his intense gaze told me that I was “known”. That was it.
We never talked during the sesshin or ever. What was there to say? The memory of that has never left me and will always be a sweet mystery.
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[12] Halima (Barbara) Najork
1. Undated. MOMENTS OF DARSHAN.
I met Wali Ali only once, when he visited Summer School in Proizer Mühle, Germany. I danced with him, in an exercise, just for some moments.
🔷. When we met and I looked into his eyes, I fell immediately into oneness. He was like a door into the universe.
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[13] Darvesha (Susanne) Bauer
1. 2006. DARSHAN MEETING HIS GLANCE. I met Wali Ali twice physically. The first time was at the European Summer School. Wali Ali gave darshan and I had no idea what that could be.
🔷 When I met his glance, my heart and consciousness were expanding and I felt just ONE – not the oneness I was familiar with through zikr, meditation etc., but a very physical experience. I felt myself and I felt him simultaneously. I didn`t know who was he and who was I. Yet at the same time I realized that my consciousness was bilocating and I could choose. Afterwards I couldn`t help but cry for quite a time. This experience opened many doors.
2. 2016. HE SAW MY SOUL. The second time took place in the Mentorgarten in San Francisco. My heart was fully committed to the path of the Dances. But what I experienced in Germany did not feel in full harmony with my deepest values. After holding this inner struggle in my heart for some years, I finally went to San Francisco to check out the roots of the lineage.
🔷 When Wali Ali welcomed me for a talk in the Mentorgarten, my inner sight opened and everything around us dissolved into the void. Only his divine spark and my divine spark remained. Beyond the words spoken I felt that he saw my soul and also that I knew he knew and simultaneously there was the realization of his soul while knowing he knew that I knew…
This encounter was priceless. It enabled me to fully let go of any remaining idea of a certain form of service or structure limiting the soul. After that I began to experience visceral concentrated galactic and then cosmic transmissions.
The impression of his soul that was given to me was a very subtle, calm, peaceful vibration – like a safe ground you can confidently walk upon. I sensed a loving warmth with a sprinkling of divine humor, an energy that was welcoming and accepting, while holding a very powerful, concentrated focus.
I was shown huge, selfless endeavors and silent service in the inner worlds, beyond the Dance organization, beyond the Ruhaniat path. I sensed in Wali Ali an immense capacity to balance all arising developments in peace while continuing to empower all individuals to follow their own unique path.
3. 2016. HELPER OF OUTLIERS, BEYOND ORGANIZATION. Actually, I was at the Mentorgarten because I had felt a conflict about the Dances and the Sufi path in Europe. The Dances had been in my heart since my first Dance. I immediately knew that I would learn, teach, and pass the Dances on. But it seemed to me that the Dances were being commercialized. There was the intention to make money with them. And the peace work got more into the background. I felt I had to leave the path.
After I had separated from my guide and mentor, I was told that without a mentor I was no longer allowed to lead Dances. In fact, I was “prohibited ” from doing all that I´d done for 20 years: Dances, Universal Worship, Healing service, Lord`s prayer. I disagreed. And I turned to the Ethics Committee. Magdalena, who was part of it, suggested that I visit the Khankhah. So I went to San Francisco to get a feeling for the roots of the Dances
I wanted to ask Wali Ali about these things when I met him in the Mentorgarten. But he basically answered all my questions before I even could ask. I had asked in my prayers always, “Let my heart be so vast that I will be able to embrace the whole cosmos.” This was part of the story that for most of my life I’ve been in service to humanity — not for an organization or a personal interest. And in our meeting Wali Ali supported me in this.
When we finished our talk and I was about to leave the room, he asked: “What will you do now?” “I have no idea.”
“You know that usually I take care for those who cannot deal with it.” “You would do that?” I asked. And he offered to be my checkpoint. Since then I have felt free to continue hosting and leading spiritual events.
Other things Wali Ali said to me:
“Sam never claimed ownership over the dances.”.
“You have not been initiated into a certain organization or to a certain teacher but into the Sufi path.“
“You are part of this path. Whether you have a teacher or not will not change that.“
4. 2017. BREATHING PEACE… Here is an outstanding example of Wali Ali’s energy of empowerment and his focus on selfless service beyond organizations.
I told him in an email that I would be unable to follow up on the invitation to his Mureeds Gathering in 2017. This was his reply:
“No reason to fly all that distance to come…
Breathing peace and holding all beings in our consciousness we efface ourselves in the activity of perfect peace with the intention to further its realization in the world.”
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[14] Tansen (Philip) O’Donohoe
1. Early 1990s. OKAY WITH BEING RIPPED OFF. Wali Ali came to England for a camp. We chatted. He was just coming back to leading things in the early 1990s. He felt lost. He said:
“I feel like the fifth wheel on a car.”
He said he felt out of his depth. And there was no need for him. He did teach the astral walks. And I loved it.
At the end I was supposed to drive him to the airport. But my car wouldn’t start. I said, “You’ll have to take a taxi. But be careful of taxi drivers in London. They’ll rip you off.” He said:
“That’s all right. I don’t mind being ripped off.”
2. 2011? FEAR NOT.
I was in Kansas City for my first meeting as part of the Murshid Circle. I told Wali Ali, “I’m feeling a bit of trepidation.” His reply:
“Oh well, turn that around. In-trepid.”
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[15] Shakura (Carol) McGowan
1. Undated. NO BADMOUTHING THOSE NOT PRESENT. There was a Retreat at the Abode. Wali Ali invited me to sit with him at lunch. Someone there was telling terrible stories about her ex-husband and also about a Sufi teacher. Wali Ali and I were trying to talk, but she kept interrupting. Wali Ali would say to her, “We’re trying to have a conversation.”
He also would tell her, “This teacher, like everyone else, has his own needs.” And he would say, “You shouldn’t talk so negatively about him.” Or “It is inappropriate to talk about people who aren’t here.”
I left him a little piece of paper that told him where we could meet to continue our conversation. Then I got up and walked to the kitchen to put my dishes away.
Wali Ali got up and left. Later the woman cried and told me he yelled at her. I said, “I don’t think so. I would have heard him.”
Wali Ali and I finally met up and continued our conversation elsewhere. In this conversation he told me about drugs and his parents.
He could keep his sense of humor and yet stay present and aware of everything going on.
2. Undated. “KEEP DOING WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND DON’T WORRY.” Kabir Kitz was my teacher. There was a rift between me and a woman who was one of Wali Ali’s mureeds. Wali Ali and Kabir had discussed this rift many times. Wali Ali thought this was a good time to try mediation. To me he said: “We have to try to give her a kick in the ass and see if it works.”
It didn’t work. Kabir thought we should keep trying. Wali Ali said to me: “Just keep doing what you’re doing and don’t worry about her.”
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[16] QuanYin (Lynne) Williams
1. Undated. SIDE BY SIDE. I was somewhere with Wali Ali. We were sitting together side-by-side. We laughed and laughed. And talked and talked, from the above to the below and all around. I brought up topics. He built on them. This side-by-sideness was a joy – so companionable, like a meeting of equals, heart-mind to heart-mind.
2. Undated. “DON’T EVER LEAD THAT DANCE!” There was a Zoroastrian Dance I’d seen led by a beautiful couple, which had the phrase “I live only to serve you.” I was leading it a year or so later, at the Southwest Sufi Community soon after its founding. Wali Ali had come in and heard that phrase and called out: “Nobody should be living just to serve someone else. Just serve God! Don’t EVER lead that Dance!”
Was I burning? Yes. But you take it for the team! I never led that Dance again. (And I agree with Wali Ali.)
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[17] Narayan (Eric) Waldman
1. 1995. SOLAR! I met Wali Ali way back at an Ozark Sufi Camp (maybe Lama?) and later invited him to Wilderness Dance Camp. At Wilderness we didn’t separate Walks and Dances. We were having a full-camp Walk, which started with several Dances. “Time for some Walks,” said Wali Ali. “Anybody have a Solar Walk?” I raised my hand. “Go for it.”
I thought about leading Ya Hayy Ya Haqq (hard to beat that SAM Dance for being solar!) but then I hesitated, dunno exactly why. Maybe I thought, that one is just too obvious. I not only hesitated but I said something like “Hmmm“…to let everyone know I was thinking.
“THAT’S NOT VERY SOLAR!!!” came a roar from my beloved Wali Ali! It almost knocked me over! Let me tell you, the very next second I was Ya Hayying and Ya Haqqing with SAM and the Circle…for sure!
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[18] Saul Barodofsky
I first met Wali Ali as Murshid SAM’s correspondence secretary, a role which he continued until Murshid Sam’s passing. Our interactions were many, and frequent. He gave me my first list of practices from Murshid SAM. We took walks in San Francisco together, watched Murshid take his last breath, had a double wedding ceremony, and reviewed applicants to the now lapsed connection of Spiritual organizations, The Meeting of the Ways. (That was a trip.). I assisted him in moving to Virginia, heard the Gathas from him, helped with teaching in his Sufi University, and more.
His was a full life, and although he was not a saint (none of us are) his Baraka was ever flowing. Here are a few memories to share:
1. PROSTRATION ON BUDDHA’S BIRTHDAY. Murshid took Wali Ali and me to a celebration of the Buddha’s birthday. I recall it was at a church, with an altar and rows of pews. We sat together, and at some point Wali Ali became so moved, that he prostrated himself in the aisle facing the alter. The folks there were not happy, and SAM called him back into his seat, and we left shortly thereafter.
2. YELLED AT BY MURSHID SAM. Murshid was leading dances in front of the Mentorgarten when he had an emergency telephone call. He asked people to wait a minute, and went into the house to take it. I followed him, as was my usual practice, and met his visitor, Vocha Fisk, who was Korzybski’s secretary. SAM heard chanting outside and went to see what was happening.
Then we heard him yelling at Wali Ali for “taking over his meeting!” Wali Ali attempted to explain his actions, but Murshid wanted none of that and kept on yelling. Then Murshid returned upstairs, and I watched Vocha Fisk calm him down. and return him to a more centered state. It was her tone and acceptance of his feelings which I do believe did it. ((I wasn’t the only one Murshid yelled at.)
3. A DANCER. We all came together in the late 60s and early 70s. The freedom of the 60s was all-consuming. I recall Wali Ali’s relationship with a married mureed, which was causing her marriage to dissolve. I called him on it, and his reply was “But Saul, she’s a dancer.”
4. SAM’S PURPOSE, WALI ALI AS SECRETARY. Perhaps his role as Murshid’s correspondence secretary was the one I resonate the most with. Murshid was invited to a Holy Mans Jam in San Francisco, where he led an Allah snake dance. There were thousands of people in the room. I saw Murshid counting the house. When he finished the dance, he told Wali Ali, “Write Sufi Barkat Ali, and tell him I have completed his assignment.” This assignment was to get 10,000 Americans to say “Allah”! It was, in my humble opinion, the reason the Dances were formed: sacred phrases in group movement.
5. MURSHID SAM: “PAY THE RENT!” Murshid was in hospital, in a coma. He awakened and dictated a letter to his living teacher, Sufi Barkat Ali. Daniel Lomax wrote down his words. We were thrilled and called Wali Ali to come over immediately. Murshid saw him enter the hospital room and asked him, “Did you pay the rent?” Wali Ali fumbled his answer, “No Murshid, we were so concerned with you we forgot.”
Murshid screamed at him, “PAY THE RENT!” Wali tried to explain, and Murshid again yelled “PAY THE RENT!” These were the last words Murshid spoke to Wali Ali, as Murshid went back into his coma and only semi-reawakened when he demanded I get him into the Chinese hospital – which I did.
6. DOUBLE WEDDING. One day a month or so after Murshid’s passing, both Wali Ali’ girlfriend and my girlfriend were pregnant. Wali Ali suggested we have a joint wedding. It was a powerful celebration of ‘new life,’ and a continuation and deepening of our family. Vilayat did a Universal Worship, Ajari Warwick did a fire ceremony, but the actual wedding was performed by the Rev Gene Wagner.
7. “LEAVE ME IN PEACE!” One day, a couple of years after SAM’s passing, Wali Ali called me to the Mentorgarten. He took me into his room upstairs in the Mentorgarten and asked me to look out his window. There was a very bright flashing large RED sign proclaiming GREAT WESTERN – a local savings and loan company. He stated, “This is driving me crazy. Come with me.”
We walked to the bottom of that tall building, where he lit incense and a candle, and clearly spoke: “Yes, you are more powerful and larger than I am. But you have no power over me, and I reject all of your influence. Leave me in peace!” And we then walked back home. He never mentioned it again.
8. “SHUT UP AND TAKE IT!” We were in downtown Charlottesville one day. As we walked on the Downtown Mall, he announced that they were considering making me a Caliph. When I demurred, saying it was “Too little too late,” he yelled, “Shut up and take it!” Which I did.
9. THROWING BEADS. Years later, at my initiation to the Murshid Circle, in the presence of Moineddin, Hidayat, Saadi and many of the original mureeds, he called out my name: “SAUL!” I turned to see a set of prayer beads flying through the air at me. I did catch the tasbi before it hit the ground, and still use it. (It was made especially for me by the late Ahmaddin Ah Salik)
10. AN “ATTACK.” Years ago at Lama, he had an ‘attack’ while teaching. I was called into the dome, where a nervous group awaited me. Wali Ali was feeling weak, had shortness of breath, and some chest pain. Emergency services were hours away, and so I worked on his feet, as I had done with Murshid SAM. He came back to normal and finished his class.
11. INSTRUCTIONS ON INTUITION. As mentioned earlier, he was my Gatha reader, after moving to the city from Marin, where Moinuddin was my Gatha reader. Wali Ali’s instructions on intuition remains a core practice for me.
Watch your breath. Place a question upon it.
As you breath, observe: Is it smooth? Is it easy? Does it feel light-filled? Is it heavy? Is it impacted? Is it slow to move?
Still a useful practice.
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[19] Insu Hyams
1. QUAN YIN’S BLISSFUL SMILE. At Mendocino camp one year, Murshid gave instruction and then we engaged in the walk, tassawuri Quan Yin. Everyone’s faces became solemn and long. Murshid sat us down afterwards and asked for feedback. I said, “Quan Yin is smiling.” Murshid just about jumped off the then bench and practically shouted, “THAT’S RIGHT!” He went on to say, “That’s because she is never separated from the great bliss.”
From this, I understand that resting in mystical wonder is so needful toward engaging in mushahida. Murshid’s lesson also reminds me of Thich Nhat Hanh’s emphasis on smiling.
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[20] Husam (Howard) Olivier
1. 2013 5 2. PINNED BY HIS GLANCE. I am at my fifth Wazifa Retreat in Prescott Arizona, on the 99 Names of God. I love surrendering a week of “regular“ life once again and inviting the universe to orchestrate whatever I need most. I am in the Fattah Group. Each group leaves the main hall once a day to meet with Wali Ali and receive that day’s assignments.
On the fourth full day, my group of five is with Wali Ali. I am sitting on the floor, close to him. We have handouts of the material. And Wali Ali is reading about Sabr Jamil, a blend of beauty (Jamil) with an attribute used to invoke the quality of patience (Sabur):
“The ultimate stage of sabr jamil fully manifests as the attribute as-Sabur, which is completely consistent in all situations. By grace, the traveler on the path of contemplation of the divine abundance may ultimately penetrate to the essence of beauty itself… Such a being walks gently on the earth and has loving gentleness toward the outer manifestation…”
I yearn to travel this path. My eyes move to the page in my lap, to see what Wali Ali will read next: “Through heightened insight into reality, he or she sees the infinite worth, or karam, of every individual. God is all in all.” Wali Ali reads the first sentence.
I am waiting for the next five words. But no, Wali Ali completes the sentence in a different way: “Through heightened insight into reality, he or she sees the infinite worth, or karam, of every individual — INCLUDING YOURSELF.”
As he says the words, “INCLUDING YOURSELF,” he raises his eyes and looks straight at me.
🔷 I feel entirely trapped, and utterly secure at the same time. He holds my gaze for emphasis, pinning me as if by a spear thrown through my chest into a wall behind me. The message he transmits in this moment feels sacred and accurate. I’m caught. It had never occurred to me when I practice seeing the infinite worth of people, I leave one person out: myself.
Instructions are concluded and our group of five parades out of the private room to rejoin the larger group. I sit in the main hall dazed, absorbing the experience of having something kept secret all my life so utterly exposed. I know that within a short time I’ll be doing solo practices in my room. Energy from the connection still reverberates, and I am eager to get started.
I have no inkling that within eight hours I’ll be an initiated mureed!
2. 2013 5 2. STUMBLING INTO CLARITY: MY YA FATTAH WALK. Back in my room, the experience of being pierced by Wali Ali’s glance still reverberated cellularly. I dove into the last full day of practices for this retreat, immersed in Wazaif (names of God). The assignment was to complete what Wali Ali called a ‘full cycle’ of each pair of names: 1001 out-loud recitations, followed by 201 silent, mental recitations, then 101 breaths simply dwelling in the essence of the sacred Name. A full cycle of two names takes 1 ½ – 2 hours. After three such pairs, a single name remained: Ya Fattah (“Oh Opener!”) Coincidentally, Fattah was the name of the group Wali Ali had suggested for me at this retreat. So it felt fitting to end the retreat with Ya Fattahs. I completed the cycle with lively energy.
Wali Ali’s next instruction was to walk outdoors: “You should take at least two 15-minute periods throughout the day to walk on a path and continue your inner remembrance….” What path to choose? For me this choice was complicated because I “share a body” with multiple sclerosis.
I use this phrase deliberately; it has meaning for me. I cannot say I “have” MS. Here is my truth: This disease does not have me and I (my essential self) do not have it. The most accurate way to describe our relationship is this: I once lived in a dwelling I thought of as “mine”. I moved in first. But…some years later, the Landlord added a roommate – a rather difficult one.
Life with this roommate has been an on-going practice of creative negotiations. There are a number of activities we don’t agree on. One of those is walking. I never know how long any walk will last. At times my muscle control deteriorates in bewildering ways. For me, an uneven trail requires concentration a “healthy” person might need to summon in order to walk on a narrow beam atop a wall ten feet high.
Two days before, I had gone on a scouting expedition to find out: What was the terrain of Slick Rock Trail? I found it doable but difficult. It was largely a narrow footpath, with loose gravel, and odd-shaped rocks protruding on the trail. There were sections of side-sloping granite to traverse. Even with my trekking poles, these are a perilous affair. At times the only way I can progress is by narrowing my attention and treating each step as a separate neurological puzzle to solve.
Wali Ali had said I could simply go outside on my bike, which would require no concentration on steps. But I had walked this trail once, and today I was in a mood to try it again. I grabbed my trekking poles and set off, with Ya Fattah! filling my heart.
From the first minute of the hike, I was intrigued. My stride was smoother than usual. This time — in places where earlier I had asked myself, “What business do you have walking out here?” – my footsteps flowed with confident ease.
Rather than puzzle over ‘why’ this was happening, I opted to simply enjoy the experience. At one point, as if I were watching myself from a distance, I marveled, “Man, I am flying up this hill!” Suddenly — “YIKES!” – my toe caught on a raised rock. Thankfully, I recovered balance and continued along the path.
As I neared the top of the trail, still travelling with uncommon ease, my mind drifted to admiring my progress: “I have walked well, all this way!” And — within microseconds – another stumble! I began to suspect a link between these ego-thoughts and being tripped. “Okay,” I thought, “The Universe is providing this speedy walk; perhaps the Universe is tripping me as well.”
I arrived at the turnaround feeling exhilarated rather than fatigued. Normally my balance muscles would have been depleted long before this; I was long past where I would usually stop and rest. But today’s walk was like no other. Might the magic last longer? Without a pause, I headed back. The ease continued.
About half-way back, I lapsed again. “Look at how easily I’m floating along!” This time the consequences were both immediate and drastic: My legs buckled and trembled sickeningly. And then – I lost all power to stand! Strength and muscle control simply vanished. I was collapsing straight down toward the trail, helpless as a puppet with snipped strings! This was one of the scariest moments of my life.
As I descended I understood: 🔷 The Universe is now withholding assistance, its message unmistakable: ‘THIS IS HOW YOUR LEGS ARE RIGHT NOW, ON YOUR OWN.’ I had been experiencing a walk with surreal ease, without fully grasping the true situation: This is not ‘my’ walk at all.
The moment I realized this, the free fall stopped! I had dropped perhaps two inches toward the ground. So this whole lesson must have taken place in less than a second of clock-time. And now disaster was averted. The universe had offered me a terrifying tour of physical powerlessness. I felt as if I’d been asked, 🔷 ‘DID YOU GET THE POINT?’
I stood motionless, mesmerized, absorbing the message. Clearly, this was a time for listening – not for scripting myself as hero. I continued my walk, paying heightened attention to my tentative steps. I knew, beyond words: This is not ‘my’ walk.
As I approached the retreat center, a glowing clarity emerged: Go see Wali Ali. I had attended his retreats for years without any sense of urgency for ‘more’. But now I saw his role in the arc of my life as central to who I most wanted to be. I had no idea what I was going to say. But in this moment I knew: seeing him was the most important thing in my world.
3. 2023. LISTENING: Ya Mujib, Ya Qarib. I went to seven Retreats with Wali Ali on the 99 Names of God. After that Wali Ali offered me Names to work with, based on what I was encountering in life. In the year after his death I encountered Al Mujib (the one who answers all prayers) in chapter 17 of Physicians of the Heart. I felt called to study this name further. Using the index, I began to read every Al-Mujib mention in Physicians of the Heart. As I read and connected with particular phrases, highlighted a line or two, or turned a page, I noticed that I felt accompanied; Wali Ali’s presence grew.
The index hinted at an extensive mention of Al-Mujib in chapter 18. Eagerly I opened that section. Al Mujib joined forces with Al Qarib (the intimate) in the narrative. The line I connected with most powerfully described Al-Qarib as ‘truly listening, and not simply desiring an answer to your request’. Reciting this pair felt immediately important, and also felt familiar – something I have done unconsciously for years. I was so grateful for expressive language to describe this sort of listening.
The first time I practiced aloud with Ya Mujib and Ya Qarib, my wife was away. I was able to vocalize with a fuller voice than I usually use (when she is sleeping in the next room). It felt enlivening to let my voice be unrestrained.
🔷 While I was reciting, it slowly dawned on me that I was hearing and responding to another voice: Wali Ali’s! I felt the thrill of seeking to blend with his tone and urgency. My heart quickened. My voice, combined with his, got louder and more insistent until it seemed it could be heard out the window. “YA MUJIB, YA QARIB!” It was a powerful force: The feeling was exultant.
“YA MUJIB, YA QARIB”. This ecstatic pledge grew its own energy field: a sense of connection, belonging and delight. Over and over again. “O Thou who answers every prayer, I solemnly vow to listen in the deepest manner.” This went on for some time. I scribbled down impressions of this experience, right afterwards. While writing the notes, I continued to sense Wali Ali’s presence, just over my shoulder. Gratitude for this sustained one-on-one time with him.
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[21] Nura Yingling.
I met Wali Ali at Sufi camp in Mendocino, 1985 or 1986. Soon after, Wali Ali moved from California to Covesville, Virginia and soon after that my family relocated to nearby Batesville. Wali, his partner Mira, and his daughters Alia, Neshoma and Amina spent a lot of time with my family in the first several years following our moves. Wali Ali and Mira were unofficial godparents to our kids, and we were very close to his three girls.
Wali Ali had secured a position at Tandem School in Charlottesville. Founded in 1970, Tandem was a progressive, non-hierarchical learning community known as “the hippie school” whose motto was “freedom with responsibility.” The students were wonderfully quirky, round pegs who did not fit into the square holes of standardized education. Wali Ali, known as Mel, taught English, Religion, and Philosophy. When Tandem added a middle school to its high school program, I applied to teach English and Arts. Wali Ali was on the hiring committee; he vouched for me and I was in.
1. 1988. SPEAKING UP, EMPOWERING US TO HONOR OUR WORK. At my very first faculty meeting, I found my place among the circle of 25 or so teachers and staff in the former living room of the antebellum mansion that served as the school’s main building. After opening introductions, the Headmaster introduced the President of the Board of Directors. Crisply shaped in a very expensive suit, looking very corporate (and un-Tandem), he marched in, stood before our expectant assembly and, after a stiff greeting, presented a budget data report, culminating with the dire proclamation: “As the School is facing serious financial difficulties, all faculty and staff will have to take a salary cut.”
My first meeting! Everyone seemed stunned. As I later learned, many of the teachers were thinking, “Oh, okay, we love the school and the kids so much, we’ll all pitch in…” Several meek questions were asked. And then …. Wali Ali stood up. He raised his fist and POUNDED it on the table. “THERE’S NO MORE BLOOD IN THIS TURNIP!” he thundered.
“You CAN’T come in here and announce lower salaries one day before the kids show up! This faculty is already making significantly less than teachers in this town’s other independent schools. And we’ve already taken on extra course loads and non-teaching duties over the past two years. You go back to your Board – they’re the ones with deep pockets – and find another way to keep this school afloat. That’s YOUR job. We’re doing ours.”
Clarity, courage, REAL authority… And the Board did indeed “find another way,” and Wali Ali’s words did more than just save our salaries. He showed us what it looked like to honor our profession, to “speak truth to power.”
2. DEPTH OF CONCENTRATION. One of my strongest memories of Wali Ali is how he prepared for a class: He would sit alone in the library, reading whatever text he was teaching at the time, NOT doing what most of us did – not jotting down lesson plans, composing a quiz, making Xerox copies. I could SEE him diving into a text. Whether reading Faulkner or Blake or Vonnegut, he was the epitome of focus and absorption. I began to emulate his depth of concentration, and it made me a better teacher.
3. AS A TEACHER. I often sat in on his classes – because I, like all his colleagues, knew he commanded the students’ respect. I recall, in particular, his philosophy courses: Twelve or so students – and me – waiting in his classroom.. He would stride in BEING the philosopher he was presenting that day. Embodying Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Freud or Plato, he taught via the Socratic method, posing the Big Questions. The kids knew that in order to grok what was being offered, they had to do their work. They couldn’t hide or bullshit some lame response. Wali was very clear and very firm, never unkind to his students, unpredictable and hilarious. He often quoted poetry from memory… “Tiger, tiger, burning bright …”
4. HIS WAY WITH WORDS. Wali was a consummate punster; the impeccable timing of his zingers redeemed many a boring faculty meeting. Once, when he and I were talking about certain parents’ pressures on their kids to achieve, he said, “Worldly success is like the wedding of dolls.” The wedding of dolls. That has stuck with me forever.
5. CHAMPION OF OUTLIERS. One last story: I was a young, inexperienced teacher when I was hired at Tandem. Yet in my second year, I was promoted to Head of the middle school. Though my heart was in the right place and I was a very hard worker, I had little to no skills or savvy in dealing with entitled parents or an over-involved board of directors composed largely of such parents.
One of these board members was unhappy with a comment I had made about his daughter’s over-scheduled life, and another was outraged at a disciplinary measure I had taken in response to her son’s behavior. Together, they pressured the Headmaster to remove me from my position. Abruptly, I was told I would not receive a contract for the upcoming year. The first thing I did was to call Wali Ali.
Wali met with the Headmaster and said something to the effect, I later learned, “There is no due process here. This person is loved, is doing her job. This is Tandem, not a corporation.” A committee was formed composed of faculty, a key administrator, volunteer parents and other board members to review my case. All constituents of the school were interviewed. In the end, I was reinstated as a full-time teacher.
Twenty-eight years later, I retired with honor and gratitude – and, I will say here, with an admission of my rookie errors and a deeper understanding of parents’ fears and protective love for their children. Not only did Wali Ali help me begin my career and save it. He generated and helped establish an egalitarian, community-based process for Tandem educators who need and deserve support, a process still in place over three decades later.
6. A VASTER CHANNEL. Paula told me she had asked Saul whether he and Wali Ali were friends. The answer (with Saul’s permission): “Yes, but not ‘friends-friends.’ I have observed that many spiritual leaders were, in a certain way, loners.”
Paula then asked me the same question: “Were you and Wali Ali friends?” This was an interesting question I needed to sit with. What came to me was this:
Wali Ali was tuned into a vaster channel, a less personalized channel. We respected each other. There was humor and fondness. But, friends? We were spiritual friends, in that we each had our own wounds and demons, yet always sought the light, the Way of the Heart. I would say we were both companions on the path and devoted colleagues.
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[22] Omar M’Sai
I was an early disciple of Murshid Sam, so I have known Wali Ali for a number of years. Originally there were only a handful of us. I was never in a room with the entire group of disciples and Sam.
1. 1969 LONELY. Pir Vilayat held a camp in Colorado, high up in the Rockies. Murshid Sam and Saul went to Lama, but many of us came to the Colorado camp, which was great. Pir Vilayat gave personal assessments – kind of like darshans or interviews, except that everyone could be present at everyone else’s counseling. This is the first time I got to know Murshid Wali Ali and when he was interviewed he mentioned how lonely his life had been. It touched everyone deeply. In all the years I spent with Murshid Wali Ali I don’t think I ever thought of him being lonely again after that.
2. 1970s. SUFI NAMES. I once asked, “”How do you feel about your name, Wali Ali? ” “I don’t like it,” he answered. “Why not?” “It sounds too much like Roly Poly.”
3. 1971 10 27. LETTER FROM WALI ALI. I was in Scotland and Wali Ali sent me a letter.
Beloved One of God …. As-salaam-aleikhum! My dear brother, please rest assured that our connection with all of us here continues to pulsate with mutual love…
Reshad [Feild] was just here and then broke down health wise in Los Angeles …. Just adrenaline-reaction as far as I can see. I feel no compulsion to expandexpandexpand. We are growing as a plant, so as long as we get sunshine and water, and continue to pull up the weeds, we have nothing to fear. Among Murshid’s last instructions was that we should emphasize concentration practices, until the whole life becomes focused.
One thing that did come from my conversation with Resahd was the feeling that the Dances must definitely be approached with reverence and with the understanding that they are actual spiritual disciplines in their own way. There are so many things to concentrate on in doing the dances: feeling the circle move together, harmonising vocally, placing the mantra in the heart, feeling one’s own body fully, listening to the leader at all times. We should feel no compulsion in presenting the dances to get it on, get it on, get it on, etc. It is better to present them with the attitude that they require careful attention, at the outset. That the same dance may be stopped many times until we get it right, in this way we will leave ourselves room to grow.
Please keep us posted. We love to hear from you—o beating heart, breath of our breath.
Ya Hayoo, Ya Qayoom,
Wali Ali
4. Late 1970s or early 1980s. CALMING THE STORM. I grew up in Southern California. Normally I felt safe with the Sufis. While attending some dance classes led by Murshid Wali Ali I became friends with a young couple. They were sweet, in their early twenties, I can’t even remember their names now. We camped out together once, on the hills overlooking SF Bay from the Marin County side of the bay. The next morning we dropped in on a friend of mine who lived at the base of Mount Tam. I never had a clue of what was to come, and had no idea that this woman’s mental health was as frail as it actually was. They both seemed like perfectly normal people to me.
After visiting briefly with my friend, the woman called up Wali Ali. I heard her say on the phone, “This man is trying to kill me.” She was talking about me! I had no idea what was going on, but after speaking with Murshid Wali Ali, he assured me that everything was OK, and indeed it did appear that the situation had been resolved. This episode bothered me at the time, but I didn’t dwell on it. I learned later that the woman was bipolar.
Several weeks after that I was in a Dance class Wali Ali was giving. Suddenly the dance group came to a screeching halt and I heard this woman screaming, “HE’S THE DEVIL!” She was looking at me! She then turned to Wali Ali and screamed, “DON’T YOU KNOW THAT THIS MAN IS TRYING TO KILL ME? HE’S TRYING TO KILL ALL OF US. YOU, MURSHID, YOU ARE ON THE OTHER SIDE!”
I was stupefied. I was the only black man in a white crowd, and everybody was looking at me. I hadn’t even had a conversation with this woman. I didn’t know what to do.
Wali Ali took the young woman’s hand and walked with her. He spoke very softly. I could hear him gently ask, “Did you remember to take your meds?” I could see him calming her down. 🔷 He just … took all of the negative energy in the room and calmed everything down. We then resumed the dance class.
5. 2022. WALI ALI IN DEMENTIA. During the early stages of Dementia when I was visiting with Murshid Wali Ali I realized that one of the first things to go was Murshid’s sense of style. His attire was such some days that he appeared almost like a homeless person and often when we would go for walks in the neighborhood I felt as though we were like two homeless vagabonds.
Murshid WA was always the same sweet, loving and easygoing self. Though he wasn’t too careful about hygiene or how he dressed that didn’t stop him from addressing people in the street as if they were extremely important people. He was overly friendly. Someone would walk up and he’d say, “Look at this beautiful man!” Or he’d say to a woman “What a nice smile you have on your face this morning!” You might have expected people to be taken aback. But no, they loved to talk with him. It was interesting to watch the interplay. I couldn’t tell if they were people who actually knew him or if they were just so swept off their feet by Murshid’s charm….
6. 2018, 2019. GOING TO BAT FOR ME, TRUSTING ME. In the end, what I remember best were Wali Ali’s gifts to me. My daughter passed away in California. I was in New York, in great grief but without money. I couldn’t even afford to go to her funeral. Wali Ali went to bat for me. He put out a plea to folks in the Ruhaniat to contribute toward my flying to California. More money poured out to me than I’d ever seen. I was able to go to California and contribute to the funeral. It was incredible. It was the most profound gift ever.
When Tawwaba completed her work coordinating the “God is Breath” course, she and Wali Ali asked me to work with him as the administrator of the classes. This was a very sacred trust which I participated in for ten years, filling in when needed and completely running the classes with the help of Barakat when Murshid was unable to continue his work due to the dementia that he was dealing with.
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[23] Amina Meyer
1. 2018. MUTUAL APPRECIATION. I am the third child of Wali Ali and Jessica Hall, aka Khadija. I was born at home in the Mentorgarten, in Murshid Sam’s old bedroom May 23, 1976. I was raised in that beautiful community of Khankah Sam, where I was loved by so many illuminated souls. I experienced the reality of our practices, and that created the world for me.
At the age of five I went through my parents painful and public divorce. At 10 years old I moved with my dad to Virginia, until graduating from Tandem high school, where Dad was my English teacher, as well as my teacher of Eastern and Western Philosophy. Dad raised me through adolescence with Mira Scheibner, from when I was 9 years old to the time I turned 18.
On the one hand, I had great love and respect for my dad. On the other, I saw his human struggles and judged him harshly for them as a teenager and young adult. However, throughout my life I could always feel my dad with me in the unseen world. He trained me to listen to my own heart and follow the path it illuminated. In 2018, I was reviewing my life after a difficult divorce. I wanted Dad to know how much I appreciated his intention for me to live an authentic, awake and contributing life. I wanted him to know how proud of him I was. Two weeks before his birthday, I wrote him a letter I knew he would understand:
“Dear Dad, I love you. I’m proud of you and proud to be your daughter. You got your job done with me. I love you forever. Thank you. — Your loving daughter, Amina Meyer.”
His response was affirming and empowering. I am so grateful we worked through our humanity and fully expressed the love we had for one another. I am so grateful we forgave each other and so grateful for his love which is the eternal love. He would be proud that I am spiritual co-director for the Mendocino Retreat this year. (2024):
“Dear Amina, I love you very much too! … Just heard your message on my phone in the office. I’m sure I have many flaws as a father. I see you as a radiant heart of God who brings light and optimism wherever you go. The Mendo camp sounds very good. May your job be smooth. I had hoped to have Pir Asim at NW camp as it would be fun and creative to work together in a camp setting. Timing interfered. Inshallah, we will have a good opportunity to do this in the future. I really want to know how everything is going in your life. I feel a connection here between you and the khankah; some good synergy perhaps to be expressed in the future as the flow of our lives streams on. — Love and Blessings, Dad
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[24] Shakur Linkenhogen
1. 1970. FINDING WALI ALI. I met Sam in the Mentorgarten. He was interviewing people. He asked me, “Well, what are you looking for?” I answered, “I’m looking for the truth.” Sam said, “Well, see Wali Ali.” Wali Ali accepted me as his student.
2. 1971. INITIATION AND NEW NAME. Wali Ali initiated me in 1971, after Sam passed. I asked him for a name. He looked straight at me and said, “I name you Shakur. Gratefulness.”
When the Sufis are saying thank you, they’ll say, “Ya Shakur!” So I hear that word a lot. It’s a stimulation to me to become a little more forgiving, more understanding, more mature. I really like the word Shakur. I need all the help I can get.
3. Over five decades. TRYING TO HELP ME. Wali Ali was a good teacher with me. He was very patient. I grew up in terrible poverty. There were five children and my two parents. We lived in a shack on the river in Charleston, West Virginia. Cardboard windows. My father was a difficult man. The police treated you like trash if you were poor. They’d say, “Hey you dirty bastard, why don’t you take a bath?” I was jailed twice, once at ten, once at twelve for playing in a junkyard. I’ll never forget the terrible taste of jail food – just pinto beans and bread.
I grew up with an inferiority complex. I went into the Navy to escape my circumstances. The young ensigns there were kind. They told me I was intelligent and I could get a college degree when I got out, which I did.
Wali Ali understood me. And he was always trying to stimulate me. It might look rough to other people. But he knew what he was doing. He was always serious about what he did.
He might say publicly, “Oh Shakur would never be able to understand what we’re talking about! Could you, Shakur?” [Paula as editor: I once heard Wali Ali say that.] He wasn’t trying to insult me. His meaning was, ‘Come on, stupid, do this!” It was his way of getting me into a bit more clarity in my mind and in my heart.
He would come up and start pounding on my shoulders. He realized I had shoulder tension. I realized it was a blessing. I TESTIFY! His meaning was: “Loosen up! Release the tension! Relax!”
Whether I was being pushed or shoved or spoken to, he knew exactly what he was doing. He was always trying to stimulate and help me grow. He gave everyone what was needed. He understood what he was doing, and I understood it, too.
4. 2020. ENERGY OF RAM, OF PAPA RAM DASS. I studied the mantra Ram for a year with Devi and Iqbal. I know Ram energy. Once I was going to the acupuncturist. A very large, hostile man started to come straight at me in the street. He was about six feet, with an evil expression on his face. 🔷 I yelled out, “Ram!” He froze. When I finished my acupuncture session, the man was still there, frozen, on the street.
🔷 Papa Ram Dass gave me inner darshan in 2002, more than forty years after he died. In 2020 Wali Ali was giving Thursday classes at the Mentorgarten. He was doing zikrs. We tried to tune into him, whatever he did. I was surprised. 🔷 I could feel Papa Ram Dass coming through him in the room. I could feel it clearly. I knew that energy from 2002.
5. 2021. “CON-FI-DENCE!” When Wali Ali was dealing with dementia, he would walk up to everyone and say “CON-FI-DENCE!” He’d say it over and over. Wali Ali wanted to stimulate me, to give me more confidence. In his dementia he’d hug me and say, “SELF-CON-FI-DENCE! Come on!”
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[25] Melinda Ross
1969. AN OVERNIGHT IN THE DANCE ROOM. I was in San Francisco, staying at a hippie crash pad. Someone called out, “Does anyone want to go Sufi Dancing?” I loved dancing but I’d never heard of “Sufi.” Game for anything, I went to 410 Precita Avenue – and danced with Murshid Sam and Wali Ali. I LOVED it! The Dancing was pretty simple. Sam was amazing. I sensed he had three aims: to give homeless people on drugs a sense of purpose, also a sense of community, and to teach them gardening.
I went to a Dance class one more time. By now I was homeless and had just learned I was pregnant. Wali Ali and I got to talking after the Dance class. He had long curly hair and was round in stature. He was a beautiful guy, a loving person. I could tell that from our conversation. Hearing my need, Wali Ali said, “You can stay and sleep in the Dance Room tonight.” I did.
The next morning I woke up and heard loud shouting upstairs. It was Murshid Sam yelling at Wali Ali! It sounded as if he was upset that Wali Ali had let me sleep in the basement and had not told him about it. I rushed up the stairs and said, “I’m very sorry if I’ve upset you both,” and I left right away. I felt like I was such an intruder.
Soon after that I returned home to Indiana. It took me more than forty years to return to the Dances. I went to Dances and Retreats in Indianapolis. Recently I told my experience to Malika Lyon at the Ozark Sufi Camp. She said she had a dream that night: Sam said he was yelling at Wali Ali not because I had been invited to stay the night, only because he hadn’t been notified. That makes sense.
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[26] Narada Ian
1. 1990s, 2001, 2006. IMAGES OF HIS TOPICS, INITIATIONS. I was close with Saadi and Kamae and I partly worked with and for them and met most travelling teachers from USA through them. That is how I arrived at Sam’s and Hazrat Inayat Khan’s door – via Saadi’s Aramaic years with Matthew Fox at the University of Creation Spirituality in Oakland. At some point I asked Saadi to initiate me, but he said, “We don’t initiate friends.”
Some years later I met Wali Ali at the 2001 Peace Through The Arts Camp in England. With hindsight, I see that he had come partly with the intention of initiating me. (I believe Saadi had suggested it to him.) I could kind of feel the crackling anticipation, but it wasn’t in words . I attributed it to Sufism in general.
Wali Ali gave a class every morning at the 2001 Camp. On the third day I was sitting in class and 🔷 I realized that I was seeing and assembling in my heart’s eye the words and concepts that he would then assemble in the next sentence! He was mostly speaking about Sam and quoting poetry. So I experienced this deep inner connection and literally saw and felt the transmission. I was grateful to have found an open door
This went on for a while! For example, I would see a kingly chair. And then Wali Ali would speak about the arsh, the throne of God. After that class Wali Ali came to my campfire. I told him, “I was enjoying the silences in between your words. It was in each silence that I could visualize your next topic.” It was heartwarming for both of us and he initiated me a few minutes later.
Next day Wali Ali gave me practices, which I was diligent about for decades. I would “report” to him a few times via email most years. A few years after I met him he returned to Europe to be the lead teacher at German European Summer School and initiated me to ninth degree – to my surprise!
2. 2001. SWOON. In the 2001 Camp I attended the morning class Wali Ali gave. One day he was leading us in the Walk of Kwan Yin on sentient skulls. Then he led another Walk which included a spin. I was doing fine until …. I was falling – kind of fainting in the Walk! Having kind of over-trustingly followed his words, perhaps still drunk from the earlier unexpected initiation, I lost all balance mid-spin and started to fall.
Murshid caught me. There were at least 40 people in the class in the Morning Room and yet he was the one who saw me, acted, and caught me whilst I was in the act of swooning. I didn’t hit the ground. I considered this highly synchronous and a little romantic! And just as it should be!
3. 2006. SHARING THE LIGHT. I was Wali Ali’s esoteric secretary at the European Summer Camp held in Germany. Part of that Retreat was his giving darshan. There were around 150 people attending. Darshan lasted about two minutes per person. There was little spoken after welcomes it was mostly by glance and breath. My job was to open the door in and out and keep the space. Kamae would give people a seed and a bead from Wali Ali on their way out.
In the role of a guardian angel – inspired by the beautiful gilded guardians who keep their wings outstretched around King Tut’s tomb – I kept my arms outstretched during each darshan. I remained invisible in the room, but always attentive to Wali Ali in case any need arose. About three quarters of the way through, a silent rapport had developed between us.
There were windows facing south in the room which supplied lovely light. But there was no direct light from the sun in the room. 🔷 Suddenly through my eyelids came strong light. I opened my eyes. I remember seeing a presence next to Wali Ali. Then that distinct visitor left. My job was to hold the space, so I didn’t say anything.
But after the mureed had left, Wali Ali turned to me and said, “Did you see that?”
“I did,” I answered. We were amazed. But we both had a job to do, and we returned to it. At the end, Mudita had someone take a photograph of me. I could see that it showed some of that strange light. Wali Ali and I never spoke of it again.
Wali Ali gave me back that confidence in the inner light. I don’t share it with Sufi folks much. But when I teach it … people are hungry for it. Once you come in the door, you realize that these things are real and there’s no reverse gear. Once the Aleph is seen, there’s no avoiding it.
I emphasize a fool’s path. But I do sometimes quote Jesus to my students. This passage stirs my memory of the day Wali Ali and I shared the light: Matthew 1, 13 -17. “Verily I say there are learned and rich scholars who want to see what you have seen and hear what you have heard.”
(Well, that’s my version. King James is wordier: “For verily I say unto you, that many prophets and righteous men have desired to see those things which ye see, and have not seen them, and to hear those things which ye hear, and have not heard them.”)
4. . 2022. BEING HANDED ON TO MARY. It was soon after the death of Wali Ali. I had a vision. I can’t remember what I was doing – sitting by the fire, I think. It was all quite literal. All of a sudden I realized I was seeing with my heart’s eye. No fuss to get to it. No big fuss and muddle about the its flooding in.
🔷 I am at a Dance. It is a circle Dance and there is a person holding my hand on either side. Wali Ali is my partner. Now it is time to change partners. Wali Ali pulls to ensure that I go in the right direction I can feel his skin, the muscle texture, the grip, everything of his hand. He is using all that concentration he usually has. By the use of his hand he directs me onwards to …. Oh, it is Mary! Mother Mary!
I am suddenly with the mother of Jesus. She was not in the Dance. But now she becomes the Dance. I feel as if I literally have been handed on to a very different relationship.
[Editorial comment by Paula: Narada sent a description of this experience to a listserv of Wali Ali’s mureeds. It stimulated a lively discussion of how it felt to hold Wali Ali’s hand.]
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[27] Fatima Lassar
1968. WALI ALI’S NAME. Murshid would take people to this Afghan restaurant. And if you didn’t have a name, you knew you were going to get a name. And so a lot of couples got their names: Amin and Amina, Halim and Halima. It was as if you took someone to a gas station now or a Seven-Eleven and asked the owner, “Give him his spiritual name.” But whatever the name was that the restaurant owner gave, Murshid forgot it. So he just made it up!
It was like the way he gave me my name. I was called Pat. He said he went from Pat to Fat to Fatima. He had a way of doing things you expected to be spiritual in a non-spiritual way. You had to get over that, you had to get past that. Murshid thought it was “Wali Ali,” but actually, it wasn’t.
Wali Ali knew what the name was, but he never told anyone.
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[28] Rahmana Marcia Rowe
Original Art by Rahmana Marcia Rowe 2023
Painted in acrylic with gilding on wooden panel 20” x 27”
1. 2022. HIS PORTRAIT, MY HEART’S DESIRE. In the summer of 2022, when I read that Wali Ali’s health was failing, I knew in my heart that I would paint a portrait when he passed. On Thanksgiving afternoon, at a family event, I was shocked by the news that he was gone from this earth. That evening, I sat at my altar saying prayers and feeling the deep loss.
The light of the candles flickered over an icon I had painted of Jesus and, 🔷 in an instant, I knew that the portrait would be created in this style. I would begin the work in the new year and have the image delivered to California for his Memorial. After the holidays the full weight of the task was apparent.
It was very important for me to get a likeness that transmitted his energy, especially through his eyes. I wanted to keep the original, for now, but allow the community to print out their own copies. I pulled together styles from Islamic, Tibetan Buddhist and Orthodox Christian art and created the icon on a wooden panel (actually, a kitchen cabinet door) with gilded borders. Bismillah honors his Sufi path and Om Gate Gate his Buddhist path. And his beloved teacher Samuel Lewis is above his head symbolizing their enduring connection.
As I worked on the details, I listened to Saladin read by Wali Ali and felt a deep connection through his voice. Also the Allaudin Ottinger’s CD Friends of the Friend which created the atmosphere of the Dances he loved so much. I loved creating a thing of beauty to honor my teacher, who always supported my creative endeavors.
Prints were made and mailed to California for the March Memorial and by Wali Ali’s June birthday the final version was available to his mureeds. Final prints were delivered to the Mentorgarten for the first Urs in November 2023. One year after the inspiration, the project was complete and I was very relieved. As I sat in front of the icon, with the candle light flickering, 🔷 he seemed to say “Thank you. Job well done.”
2. 2010, 2022. HIS WORDS, TRANSCRIBED. For many years, what I call Letters have come to me from Beings in the Great Beyond – unbidden, and sometimes unwanted because they always have to be delivered. This can be anxiety producing or embarrassing. But ultimately I am willing to be the messenger delivering the mail. Over the course of years I sent Wali Ali many examples of these Letters and he responded in an email:
“The transmissions …all feel like you are in touch with a stream of beneficent guidance. I would encourage you to continue to listen.” 7/8/2010
Also: “ It feels clear, excellent, blessed, guided, altruistic. I am happy to again affirm that this is a psychic and spiritual gift that you have received signs to develop and to use for the benefit of all beings.” 12/20/2010
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I keep paper and pen near my altar because I never know when poems or guidance might flow. On Sunday November 27th, 2022, after my morning practices, I started to hear words. I was not asking for a message from my Teacher, who had just passed into the Eternal. But I wrote down everything I heard. The message was for the whole community, and I sent it out by email lists. I hope it brought as much comfort to others as it did to me.
🔷 We have convened the Heavenly Murshids’ Circle for love never dies and the heart flies.
Beloved Ones of God,
Peace and Blessings be upon you.
My heart soars free of failing body and scattered mind.
Free to expand beyond the confines of space and time, location and personality.
Opening up in Sweet Surrender to the Luminous Love Light of the One
Be kind and gentle with each other at this time of separation.
The manifest becomes atomized, dispersed, all-pervading, the Only Being.
This is as it should be, it must be, for Life to continue on earth.
Cycles of rising and falling, coming and going, birthing and dying.
Grieve not for me. Join hands in the circle of Life and Dance once more.
Live life fully.
Love,
Your eternal friend Wali Ali /
3. 1996, 1997. MEETING, INITIATION. I met Wali Ali in April of 1996 at a weekend Dance retreat. Wali Ali was friendly and warm. I saw him as filled to the brim with insights and wisdom from many traditions. There was a moment when I stood beside him in a Dance circle and took his left hand. 🔷 I had a flash of awareness: His right hand holds Samuel Lewis, who in turn is reaching out to Hazrat Inayat Khan, who is reaching out to his Teacher! I knew: I am in the lineage stream at this moment! This is where I want to stay. Maybe I had found my Teacher?
I knew that I wanted someone to help me process the mysterious occurrences that were often part of my life. I had a brief chat with Wali Ali about that. I gave him some examples. His brief response was, “This is all good.”
In August 1997, I decided to ask Wali Ali to be my guide. We were both attending a Dance retreat at a military school in Vermont. At mealtime there was a fascinating combination of Cadets in drab camouflage and Dancers wearing every color of the rainbow – peacekeepers and peacemakers together in one beautiful rural setting. After a morning Dance session, I waited until the others left and asked Wali Ali, “Would you be willing to be my Teacher?” He hardly knew me. We had exchanged words at a retreat one year earlier. His answer:
“Do you not want another teacher who would be more available? I am often unavailable, indifferent to paperwork, and living in California now.” Then he added, “I take only two or three new people a year, but I feel no reason to say no.” And he concluded: “I will meditate on this and you should, too.”
Later that day, after a session of Dancing, he said to me,
“Seven o’clock in the chapel, if that is all right with you.”
I rushed into the bathroom and cried big sobs of gratitude. I was overwhelmed! Wali Ali was planning to initiate another woman that evening and I could join that ceremony in the chapel. Usually before any important decision, I felt enormous anxiety. This time I felt joy! I had found my Path and now Guide. In the words of Hazrat Inayat Khan, I could say, O inspiring guide through life’s puzzling ways, in thee I feel abundance of blessing. Alhamdulillah!
My initiation went smoothly. And the next morning, I had a conversation with Wali which did give me further guidance. I revealed to him more of the mysterious or strange things that were happening to me, not sure myself whether they were safe to share with others. This was his response:
“It is for your growth in magnetism that you should contain the insights. Tell me instead of others. It is the Sufi way to allow something to be told if it seems to be pulling one three times.”
4. 1996-7. A LOST EMAIL. All was not smooth, however. There was a test of my heart’s decision from the very beginning. In our first conversation after the initiation, Wali Ali said to me,
“Please write a bio for me so I can understand your life and concerns.”
I poured my heart out in a long letter that I mailed to his home. I never heard back.
At the end of 1997, while I was waiting for Wali Ali’s response, I took the risk of signing up for a Retreat with him in Mexico. It was a major expense and I kept waiting to hear from him. Again, no response!
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I was getting more panicky by the moment. Have I made a huge mistake? When I asked him about initiation, he had warned me about this and I had not listened. Is this another large error of judgment about men? And this time, a cosmically huge one! Anxiety came pouring back with a vengeance.
At the retreat in Mexico, I was holding back, not sure how I could trust this person with my deepest concerns. So confused! Finally, I had an opportunity for a private talk. I asked Wali Ali about my letter. He said “I think I received it.”
We had a very long talk and I felt relieved. Later in January, I received an email :
Dear Marcia
I must sincerely apologize to you for something. When you asked me in Mexico if I had seen the letter you sent, I vaguely said yes remembering something I had seen. Yesterday, I had to move the bed in my room as I was getting a new phone service installed and I found your letter unopened!! It was a very good letter that deserved a response. I am sorry I misplaced it.
Love, Wali Ali
Reading this , I just laughed out loud. The absurdity of it all ! Here, this teacher had been studying the Laughter of God, and now I was having a taste of it through him. What a trajectory! I had gone from joy to terror to laughter with this man. Relax!
5. 1998 – 2021. GUIDANCE THROUGH EMAIL. For me, emails were a better way to communicate from then on. Usually, Wali Ali responded within two days. Sometimes, an email got buried just like the first letter. But if I did not get a reply to an email after two weeks , I just resent it. And then he wrote right back to me. I wrote whenever I was in a difficult situation. And I wrote a check-in email once a year, just to update him.
Sometimes he wrote back “Don’t wait so long,” or “Thanks for resending this. The original got lost in the maze of stuff here.”
I have kept our correspondence of 23 years in a fat binder. Here are some gems:
1998. I wanted his insight before I signed up for a three-week Green Tara pilgrimage to India and Nepal. My heart said yes but my body and mind said, absolutely not! Wali Ali wrote:
“I also get a very large YES on your participation in the pilgrimage, alhamduillah !”
I did go. It was fabulous and a peak life experience. I am still telling the stories.
2008. I wrote about feeling frustrated with never feeling satisfied with my artwork achievements. His response:
“The funny thing about life’s accomplishments is that they are all incapable in themselves of satisfying that inner longing. That can only be satisfied by realizing our oneness with the source of all happiness; then outer accomplishments can be fulfilling as an expression of that reality. It’s an expression of that reality. It’s so easy to say these things in words, but that is what our path is all about. And we find ourselves with a wonderful opportunity in life. Do you think even Michelangelo felt satisfied after completing the Sistine Chapel? yet that beauty continues to lift up hearts and souls. Let the beauty you love radiate thru you.”
2008. I was considering using my Sufi name (in Arabic) on my artwork, but I worried about any possible fallout. His response:
“If a man named Barack Hussein Obama has a good chance of being elected president, I see no reason why a woman named Marcia Rahmana can’t succeed as a public artist”.
2019. Ever since Trump was elected, I had been having fearful, angry, and confused thoughts about our country’s leadership. His response:
”Think of Trump as a rakshasa, a demon entity. These things happen. In WW2 when Murshid Sam became aware that Hitler was using occult practices to strengthen his power in the world, in his meditation the inner voice came to Sam and said, ‘Go higher.’ He would recommend to you extended recitation of Allahu Akbar…. Let your concern for the grief in the world come forth in creative expression.”
2020. Early in the pandemic, I wrote about sewing masks for protection. His response:
”My wife is also making masks these days, but our message is to unmask our view of the world and see the heart of God within all by not getting attached and distracted.
2021. I had been getting Messages about our political situation, writing poems and creating cartoons. I wondered whether I was supposed to be a messenger for my immediate circle or for a far wider circle. I sent Wali Ali an email about my despair over Trump and included some of my poems. This was a period when some saw Wali Ali as declining. I would never have guessed it from his response:
2021/1/13. “I am in your camp. I just read through the 4 links you put forward. Your analysis is clear. You are a person of spirit within a climate of despair. You are not the only one. We have Nancy Pelosi here in San Francisco. …. My feeling is that your poems and analysis will touch people’s hearts. Many will hear you. When Biden was first seen as the correct President, hundreds of people celebrated in Precita Park. Not a soul there was championing Trump. Everyone had a drum or a wind instrument or a group of children dancing with them.
Dear Marcia, people will dance with you and your ability to bring forward the challenges of these times. My sense took me across the street to connect with the people there celebrating. One of the black women doing it had a lovely drum and a face of strength. I went up to her and said gently that she reminded me of our oncoming vice president. She smiled and kept on with her drum and her smile never ended. Did you hear the talk of our California Senator when Biden first spoke to the whole country? She was magnificent, and reached out to so many minorities across the world. You are doing the same thing. Don’t give up. Let the world continue to hear your confident and compassionate voice. After all the nonsense and foolery there is definitely a God. Toward the One is a reality. ….
Love and Blessings,
Wali Ali
Next day he sent me another email, with similar words of encouragement. His closing:
2021/1/14. Stay with the truth, I say and don’t worry…. Don’t be shy…. Don’t think it is your ego talking; it is the voice of truth inside your heart Love, Wali Ali
Wow! His final words are a summary of his years of guidance. Asking Wali Ali to be my Guide was one of the best decisions of my life, along with surrendering to Allah. He was always generous, patient, kind, helpful, wise, encouraging, supportive and proud of what I created. Ours was / is the best relationship I have with any man.
I am so grateful for the Divine Plan that brought me to the Dances of Universal Peace and the Sufi path. It has been the constant in a life of full of highs and lows.
Allhumduillah !
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[29] Fateah Alice Saunders
1. Undated. MURSHID WALI ALI’S TASBIH. Murshid Wali Ali used to wear a tasbih around his neck. A striking tasbih, very long with large beads and other ornamentation, strung together in an unusual way. On one of Wali Ali’s early visits to PTA – the annual Peace Through the Arts DUP camp held in southern England – he offered up this tasbih for the auction that was held yearly to raise funds to support the camp. I happened to hear Wali Ali say that the tasbih was made by his daughter Amina, when she was a child.
This had a deep effect on me. Wali Ali was showing willingness to let go of a tasbih he not only wore and used, but a tasbih made by his own daughter. A tasbih clearly made with much youthful creativity and enjoyment. The implied relationship between father and daughter, absent in my own family, moved me greatly and I felt a huge respect for Wali Ali’s act of generosity. I decided to bid for the tasbih in the auction.
The bidding was interesting, exciting and, as usually happens, bidders began to drop out until there were only two left, myself and another. To my complete surprise suddenly the other, apparently determined, had also dropped out. Afterwards, holding the tasbih in my hands, I went to speak to the other bidder, questioning his withdrawal. “I thought you really wanted it” Amida said quietly. Again, I felt overwhelmed by the generous act being shown.
When Wali Ali’s tasbih came into my possession, it crossed my mind to wonder how, with such simple yet meaningful modelling of generosity from both Wali Ali and Amida Harvey, I would at some future point find a way of releasing the tasbih myself.
Yet, after all, it was easy. Ever since becoming a DUP teacher there’s been a strong urge within me to share the Dances, share the Sufi Message, the Aramaic work, by participating in, or leading events in other countries as well as in remote regions of my own. Some years ago I spent nearly two months on the other side of the world, and while there attended the New Zealand DUP annual camp. Like PTA, it had an auction. Externally at least, I was able to emulate Wali Ali’s earlier gesture at PTA, and felt pleasure at releasing the tasbih in another part of the world.
Yet the story is not quite over. The person who went away from that camp with Wali Ali’s tasbih told me – spontaneously, I didn’t ask – that she would pass it on at a future auction. So somewhere in the world – who knows where! – someone may be counting out their 101s with Wali Ali’s tasbih, and it may have gone so far and been exchanged so many times that the present holder has no conscious knowledge of the tasbih’s origin.
As they use that tasbih, may they feel the love, the vibrancy and the open-heartedness that the tasbih was gifted with by its creator and first owner. Personally, I feel immense gratitude that the Cosmos gave me the same lesson more than once in different ways.i
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[31] Sura Gail Tala
1990s. DOING WHAT WAS NEEDED. I went to Lama in the 1990s. I could not sing “May All Beings Be Well.” I could not get the tune or key. I told Wali Ali and he took me aside and stood 4 inches from me and sang it with me about 6 times until I got it!
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[32] Therese Mubdi Collentine
1. From 2007 on. PLACING HIS FEET ON MINE. Interviews with Murshid were generally joyful. One of the things that was consistent was our laughing together. Wali Ali had a great sense of humor and would often have me giggling over his puns or stories.
The other consistent thing was his pulling up the green chair that Murshid Sam sat on, sitting directly across from me, and then placing his stockinged feet right on top of my own feet before we talked. Gently, firmly, clearly, he put his feet on mine – every time. It made me feel comfortable, connected. And grounded, I believe. I never asked why he did this. I just assumed he did it with all his mureeds, though I’ve come to find out he did not.
I truly loved that pressing on my feet. It was like a warm hug and a knowing that we were connected. As I’ve thought about this, it also showed me that his teaching was so individual, based on the needs of his mureeds.
2. 2021. DARSHAN, THE BREATH OF TEACHER(S). We were several women in a group working with practices given by Wali Ali. On one occasion we had a zoom meeting with him so we could each ask him questions. Naturally, Murshid would go off topic, but Barakat and Tawwaba had a way of bringing him back to the theme.
One particular question that I wanted to ask was directly related to one of my own experiences of getting darshan with Murshid in 2014 or 15. It was during a retreat. 🔷 When I looked at Wali Ali while receiving darshan I saw Hazrat Inayat Khan in his face. I kept looking and it was Pir-O-Murshid Inayat Khan gazing at me. I wept, and took it back to prayer and meditation.
I had never had an experience like that one and I wanted to learn more about it. I wanted to hear from the master how he did darshan. I felt an inner permission, and so I asked: How is darshan done?”. Murshid answered clearly and directly:
“I just get in the breath of my teachers.” He did not elaborate any more than that. Nothing more was needed.
3. 2022. TOUCHING FOREHEADS. Wali Ali and I were walking in Stern Grove, a well-loved dog park. He was sharing about his days at the University of Alabama as the editor of the University newspaper, The Crimson Tide. He told me how Gov. Wallace had him targeted at the time, and so there security guards sent by the university to keep him safe.
In the middle of that sharing we may have touched our foreheads together. Or perhaps he just suddenly remembered, and he said, “You know, when I met the Dalai Lama, and we touched foreheads, I felt like I got his inner life.” That was it. Then he went back to talking about his college days. Murshid didn’t offer an explanation or elaboration. It was just that statement.
This statement brought me vividly back in time. I remembered my history with Wali Ali. I had known him peripherally for many years without more than a passing thought of asking him to be my spiritual teacher. But a few months after his exchange with the Dalai Lama, I unexpectedly got a strong energetic jolt from him. I knew I had to grab on because this was something so much larger than me, and yet included me.
Weeks later I asked him, “Will you be my teacher?” He gauged my sincerity by putting up some obstacles – such as his busy schedule and the difficulty of navigating to the place where he lived. But in the end, he said, “Yes.”
4. 2022. JOKESTER. While Wali Ali’s mind was transitioning, I went to be with him, while also giving a break for Sabura. We were in his office, and he was going through his papers on God is Breath, and showing some of the work for Murshid Sam’s biography, but generally was in a dementia ramble as he was doing this. I went along with his flow.
At one point he is going through his binder of mureeds, and shows me my own picture and makes a comment. Then – surprise! He shows me a picture of a mureed, whom I have had a secret crush on for years. He just looks at me with his raised, questioning eyebrows, soft direct eyes and impish smile, and says,
“Remember him?”
Now, he has over 100 mureeds in this binder. He could have pointed out any of those, but he picks this one particular one? And then looks at me with that knowing, mischievous smile? I just wanted to say, “Murshid, how did you know?” He was showing me that one’s Murshid knows one’s mureeds.
I think he kind of liked being a jokester at times. He didn’t mind giving me a little poke. Though I felt a bit exposed, I was happy that he knew my secret. It seemed to reveal that my teacher, Wali Ali, was aware at so many different levels – and that even in the dementia, he still understood me and my heart.
5. May 2022. BRUSHING HIS HAIR. The last time I saw Murshid Wali Ali in the body, I received one of the strongest teachings he ever gave me. Some spiritual friends were meeting with him every other Sunday at the Mentorgarten to delve into Murshid Sam’s long poems. They wanted to engage with him as a teacher, even as his mind was transitioning, and also to give Sabura a bit of a break.
Murshid was rambling, pacing, was a bit confused, and yet, unbelievably present at times. We had done walks, readings, some dances, zikr and sobhet. Murshid was tired, but happy, and Sabura had made brownies for us all.
Murshid was well dressed, but his long, flowing hair was gnarled in his pony tail and sticking out everywhere. As his mureed, I wanted him to look like the magnificent teacher he was. I knew he didn’t like his hair brushed or combed. (Several people had told me.) But being that we all had just had a nice afternoon, and he was more calm and relaxed, I asked if I might brush his hair. He said, “That would be fine.”
I was a bit surprised. Sabura, perhaps with reluctance, handed me a brush. I started gingerly. We were all talking, and I was brushing, ever so gently, and it appeared that Wali Ali’s hair was getting slowly untangled.
At one point I looked at Wali Ali as I was brushing. And I saw him wince in discomfort! It was subtle, but there. That’s when I realized he was teaching me. At that moment I really understood it: he was showing me that love can, and really does, include sacrifice for your beloved.
He didn’t care about his hair, but he knew that I did. He was willing to submit to something he really didn’t like or care about, because he knew that it would make ME happy. He was submitting to my brushing his hair showing that he loved me, as a sweet parent might submit to a child. Also, incredibly, he was still being my teacher teaching me.
I knew I was loved, and I knew what loving someone really mean: giving them happiness even if it hurts a little bit, because the hurt is minimal and temporary, while the love is maximum and continual. No stoppage.
Murshid was over the discomfort in minutes, and here I am, two years later, still remembering and absorbing his teaching of love.
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[33] Richard Cuadra
1990s and decades more. FRIENDSHIP, ALLOWING EVERYTHING TO UNFOLD. Some of the things I got to witness with Wali was a deep friendship, a kind of brotherhood. He was never my teacher, although I saw him as a magnificent teacher. We were simply friends. I was always impressed by his ability to just be present. He always allowed everything to unfold, he just allowed it. And from him – just from our brotherhood, our friendship – I learned this capacity to allow things to unfold the way they were unfolding, to watch and be present to people unfolding. I did not hear him criticize, I did not hear him judge. I just observed the qualities of being present and allowing.
JUST CRUISING ALONG. We watched a lot of football together. And we also had moments where Wali just sat in his own innocence. Sometimes I liked to poke at him. I’d ask him “What’s going on in there?” He would just look at me with innocence and, in a very gentle voice, say,
“Just cruising along.”
Some things were challenging to him and he simply withdrew. But most of time he just sort of popped into allowing them to unfold rather than try to figure them out or try to do something about it. And I really respected that and watched how hard that was at times, because he wasn’t really a great initiator. He never called and asked how I was or wanted to know what was really going on with me. We were comfortable in our friendship. One time he did say to me that coming over spending the day with me watching football was like taking a vacation. That’s when I saw the sadness in his eyes and he often took a deep sight.
PLAYFUL, LEARNED, GAMBLER. Wali was incredibly playful. Sometimes he came through the door and was so excited about a forty niner game, because it was a big game. And he would be telling me all the statistics. He would read Sports Illustrated, everything about the forty niners. And he could recall all of it. He was like a library about football. And we had a lot of arguments about football. That was so much fun, arguing about who was the best quarterback or what was the style of football. You know, he always thought he was right about it. He was a gambler – a professional gambler. He played a lot of poker. And he bet on sports with me – all bets a dollar. He was always shocked when he lost. And I made him sign the dollar bills he paid me. We laughed a lot about that.
AFFECTIONATE GESTURES. Wali was very gentle. wherever we might be, at Mendocino camp or in the house. He would come around every so often and just walk up to me and put his hand on my cheeks, or put his hand on my head and just sort of rub it with his big burly hand. He could sort of maul you in a very loving way. And it was quite beautiful.
2003. “AN ARGUMENT WITH GOD.” My mother was dying and I had been interviewing her about her life. She told me about a recurring dream that frightened her: She was locked in an attic and arguing with someone who would not let her out. Later in the interview, when I asked her what she thought about God, she got very angry and refused to continue. We never had another interview.
I was curious about that. One time I asked Wali Ali, during the halftime of a game, “Why was she so upset?” He just wheeled around, looked right at me, and just breathed. There was a long pause. Then he said, “She’s having an argument with God.” It stunned me. It stunned me because it was so true, so obviously true. And I later talked with my mom about this and she said it was true. And Wali was so pleased. He was so happy that he could just step into this channel and help me understand my mother a bit more.
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[34] Madhura Cuadra
1975. FREEZING COLD SHOWER. The first time I met Wali Ali was at the last Sufi camp in Woodstock, New York. It was very rustic and everyone was camping. And, of course, it rained a lot. It was so muddy. There was a dome that was being built, and this was where we were taking showers. There was a big tarp with some nozzles. Everyone showered together, and the water was freezing cold! I would just run in – the water was so cold – and I would tense up and try to get out of there as fast as I could.
One time I went to the shower room and Wali Ali was there. He was holding Neshoma, his infant daughter. I could see that he was totally relaxed in the cold water and he was just singing to Neshoma. It was so beautiful! I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so relaxed in such totally freezing cold water. I was so impressed and so moved. My whole body relaxed. I didn’t know him at all, but I totally took in his attunement.
After that, every time I saw him with a towel over his shoulder, I would run and get my towel and take a shower with him. He had no idea I was doing it! That attunement of his would always stay with me. It was deep peace and the way he would let go. It was so much part of him and the way he met life. (This is a story Sabura loves.)
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[35] Paula Saffire
KOAN STORIES. I did not select the stories told at the beginning of Stories, stories! They selected me. I barely composed them. They typed themselves and I made minor revisions. Now, inspired by the solution of a Story Koan, which came from hearing Richard and Madhura Cuadra (see above) speak at the first Wali Ali Urs Gathering, I am finally doing what all the other Treasury authors have done: I am culling my memories, deciding what “makes the cut” for inclusion in the Treasury, and working hard on the wording. Wow, authors! Now, two years after the Treasury opened, I am finding out how much work you have done. Thank you so much!
I have always loved and been fascinated by stories. I believe the saying (by Muriel Rukseyer): “The universe is made of stories.” And I believe that our stories are living creatures. They morph over time. As we change, they change. Or maybe it is vice versa: They change and that changes us.
I am especially intrigued by what I call “koan stories” – stories that contain a riddle. Such stories can “itch” us for years – until we solve the koan. A koan story surfaced strangely for me on the day of the Wali Ali Urs Gathering. I kept reliving it, over and over: Wali Ali and I were walking up a steep path and he was being pulled by Bart. I kept stealing glances at him. It was as if I was trying to learn some lesson. But what lesson? And why was I reliving this now?
I found out when Richard spoke. He explained what I now call Wali Ali’s “non-resistance to the flow of life.” And Madhura “nailed” this quality with her cold-shower story. This was a capacity I badly needed. (It how has the emoji of a canoe with paddle resting.) I’ll tell my Koan stories first, then move on to chronological order.
2017. TOWED BY BART. It was the beginning of my dog-sitting time. I needed to practice driving Wali Ali’s car before he left with his family for Northwest Sufi Camp. We went to look at a park he had heard about but never visited. I drove, he navigated, and Bart, his hefty flat-coated retriever, sat in the back of the car. The park was on a long, skinny piece of land that went steeply downhill. We parked at the top and walked down to the bottom. We were the only ones there. Bart sniffed and wandered happily. And then, to my surprise, Wali Ali said,
“I cannot walk up. I have a vein condition which affects my legs.”
I was dumbfounded, and quite worried. “What will we do???”
“You’ll have to walk up and drive down the hill. Park the car close to the park and come get me.”
I did all but the last. I could see Wali Ali through the fence, but there was no entrance at the bottom! “I’ll leave the car here,” I said. “My parking space up top may be gone. I’ll hurry back, and we’ll make a new plan.” I raced uphill and then down. By the time I reached Wali Ali, he had his plan:
“I’ll let Bart tow me.”
🛶 Wali Ali grabbed Bart’s leash. Bart forged ahead at a slow, steady pace, and I walked at Wali Ali’s side. I could see how amazingly satisfied he looked, how nonchalant – like a relaxed skier holding on to a tow-line. There wasn’t a trace of irritation or wishing things were other than they were. Wow!
I kept taking covert sideways glances at Wali Ali, as if trying to absorb something. I later learned that Wali Ali frequently let Bart tow him.
2014. COLD HANDS. I was at a Jamiat Khas. In general I’m not a self-sabotaging person. But this was different. I could feel myself sliding towards a choice that would destroy my happiness, and I was scared. I was at a Jamiat Khas and I needed to talk with Wali Ali. I couldn’t get close. Oh, how I longed to be in the situation of my roommate, who was having breakfast, lunch, and dinner with her teacher every day. I shared my fears with her.
One night we were all holding hands in a circle dance, my roommate on my left side. I was dancing with closed eyes, as I often do. Suddenly, instead of my roommate’s hand, I felt an ice-cold hand holding mine! I opened my eyes: it was Wali Ali! I must admit, I had a discontented thought: “What? Why now, when we can’t talk? How will this help?” After two minutes, my roommate’s hand was back.
After the Dance, my roommate asked emphatically, “Did you see that?”
“See what?”
“Wali Ali walked in from the cold and made a beeline for you. Then he left and walked back outside. He definitely came in to be with you.” That was consoling. But I still I was anxious: How could two minutes of holding my hand have helped? Was disaster still on its way?
For no reason I could see, I did stop worrying. And a short time after I went home, the whole problem evaporated. The person involved got into a huge quarrel with a friend of mine, left m house saying, “We will never see each other again.” (Good thing! I had recently learned that in every room of this person’s house, there was a ready gun.) But I still did not understand my own story.
After Wali Ali died, Tawwaba created a listserv where his mureeds could communicate. Nurjamila sent in a comment on how it felt to hold Wali Ali’s hand. Then Narada sent in his story of being “handed” over by Wali Ali to Mother Mary. [Treasury story.] Tawwaba remarked to me, “You know, his hand is beginning to emerge as a theme.” Yes, indeed! Then another mureeda commented that there was magnetism in Wali Ali’s hands. Aha! And Zardusht convinced me [in his Treasury story] that Wali Ali could read minds.
Finally, eight years after feeling Wali Ali’s ice-cold hands, I “got” it. Koan solved: Two minutes of holding Wali Ali’s hand was all I ever needed. He knew it; I didn’t.
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[36] Khalil Mark Elliott
Quoting Ishaq: “Wali Ali is Murshid Sam.” I was a fairly new mureed of Sheikh Ishaq Jud. I was at Mendocino Camp and Wali Ali’s class was particularly engaging and wonderful. I had been with him a couple times before that camp, yet that week he was on fire. In a phone call with Ishaq between Mendocino and Northwest Camps, I was raving about how wonderful Wali Ali’s class was. I realized I was gushing about a teacher to my own initiator, so I slowed down a bit with my enthusiasm.
A week or two later, we were all at Northwest Sufi Camp together as Wali Ali was the Guest Teacher that year. The first morning Ishaq and I sat together in Wali Ali’s class. Afterwards he asked me if that’s what I was talking about when I told him about Wali Ali at Mendocino. I told him, “Yes, he’s off to a wonderful start and it will build throughout the week“. Ishaq said “Very good, we will both go to all of his classes and we’ll sit together. Wali Ali is Murshid Sam.”