In the series of lectures given by Hazrat Inayat Khan on the Art of Personality posted here over the recent months, one lecture warns about the impulse to persuade others to our own point of view. We may try by vigorous argument–a frontal assault, so to speak–or by politely leaning upon the goodness of the other person, so that they feel obliged to give in, but in either case, it is an imposition on the other’s freedom that risks breaking the delicate thread of sympathy.

But, we might ask, what about our efforts on behalf of the Message? If the followers of the Sufi path have a responsibility to spread the Message, often mentioned in these pages and most recently touched on in this post, does that not contradict this teaching?

We must be wary of applying the counsels of the sages dogmatically. If we wish to develop wisdom in our words and deeds, we must do it wisely, understanding the subtlety of each situation. Hazrat Inayat Khan is not advising us to keep silent about our views; he is warning us against attempting to manipulate others, which is usually to get them to agree with us. For example, we may appreciate a particular landscape very much—the mountains, or the seaside, or a certain green and peaceful island. We may want to tell our friends about it, about how inspiring we find it, and how we feel refreshed from spending time there, and certainly there is no harm in that. We can go too far, though, if, for example, we begin to urge our friends to change their plans and also go there. Then, without realising it, we become a sort of salesman for our point of view, our friend becomes a potential client, and our relationship, instead of being based on friendship, starts to move toward commercial transaction.

When it comes to a theme as fine as the Message of love, harmony and beauty, we must move even more cautiously; we may certainly express our appreciation of what we have received, but we must also realise that the delicate feelings of others toward spirituality can be very easily injured. Hazrat Inayat Khan on several occasions told a tale about a man who had a deep but completely hidden belief in God, and when he realised his faith had been discovered by his wife (for she had heard him speaking in his sleep), the revelation of his tender feelings was too much to bear, and he died.

Perhaps we can find the best way to share the gift of the Message in the example given by Hazrat Inayat when he returned to India: if the plan for the day included a visit to a dargah or temple where there would likely be beggars, he would take along parcels of food–but he would not distribute them immediately. “They must ask,” he would say. Similarly, if we have joy in our hearts, if from our contact with the Sufi path we have glimpsed green shoots of hope in our life, we can certainly share that with others–but let them first ask for it. Those who long for it may sense the unseen perfume, and welcome what we have to say, while those who do not, need not be bothered by our point of view.