One of the consequences of living in a complex society is that we delegate many aspects of life. No need to plant, tend and harvest potatoes—sacks of them are available in the supermarket. No need to haul water from a well—open the tap and it pours out abundantly. No need to go with a shovel to repair the road—the government (supposedly) will send a crew to patch up the potholes. And even though we might be ‘believers’ on a spiritual path, there is a tendency to think, in a similar way, that we can duck the need for prayer. ‘God,’ so the feeling goes, ‘is omniscient. He must know my needs even better than I do. So, if He is merciful and compassionate, as we are told, then I leave Him to take care of the necessary, and I will get on with my life.’

The flaw in this thinking, though, however convenient it may seem from a time-management point of view, is that it makes the Divine as remote and faceless as a government department, instead of an immediate, attentive, loving Presence. Who among us, when we fill the kettle for a cup of tea, gives thanks to the municipal water-works? We rather take the plant for granted, unless it breaks down, and then our non-existent relationship with it wakes up and becomes highly critical. But if we allow ourselves such a distant relationship with the Only Being, Who is all light and life, then it appears that by our neglect we are keeping ourselves in the dark.

In the recently posted article on prayer, Hazrat Inayat Khan says, In reality God is within you, and as He is within you, you are the instrument of God; through you God experiences the external world, and you are the best instrument of conveying yourself to God.

One way to understand this is that the nature of your connection with God depends on your own inner condition. If there is confusion, doubt or conflict, the instrument will not function well. On the other hand, if you are a clearly focused, well-tuned instrument from which the rust of selfishness has been polished away, then your song will vibrate clearly; whatever you long for will be audible on all levels of consciousness. This applies to our material needs, but also to our spiritual yearning to find union with Perfection.

What is more, if the instrument is well cared for, we can hope it will invite the Musician to play. That is what the poet Hafiz was referring to when he said,
        I am a hole in the flute
        that the Christ’s breath moves through.
        Listen to this music.