In one of the Gathas, the short but very illuminating talks given by Pir-o-Murshid Inayat Khan to students starting out on the Sufi path, which he called ‘a skeleton outline of Sufi thought,’ he says that the training of the ego is both an art and a science. In this context, ‘training’ does not mean going to the gym and vigorously exercising in the hope of developing greater strength – God forbid! Rather, it is related to the process by which one might train a wild horse that has never been ridden. The horse must learn to accept and respond to the control of the rider, but the education works in both directions: the rider must also learn how to handle the horse, with the result that together they are greater than they each were separately.

But what is the distinction Hazrat Inayat Khan makes here between ‘art’ and ‘science’? The word science suggests something that can be studied, and to which we can apply formal methods. This is particularly necessary at the beginning of the spiritual work, when we strive to bring our own ‘wild’ ego under control. We must give attention to our thoughts, our feelings, our speech and our actions, and learn to hold in check all that is inconsiderate or unkind. The science that is needed, then, is careful self observation and systematic discipline.

Being on the lookout for our selfish tendencies naturally brings us to be aware of others, and the inevitable consequence is that our horizon expands. To shift now from horse training to a marine metaphor, we come to recognise that we live not in a small pond but in a sea that grow ever larger – a sea that we now see is home to vast shoals of egos of every description. Life demands that we not only sail our own ego through stormy waters, but we must also negotiate with every other ego we encounter, and it is here that art is called for.

Art does not follow rules very well. There are unlimited ways to draw a flower, depending on the light, the moment, the mood and the medium; no two singers will sing a song in the same way, for their voice, their breath and their rhythm will vary; the words of every poet are theirs alone. Yet, notwithstanding the infinity of approaches, all art seeks to express beauty – and if we wish to do so, we can make an art of the mastery of the ego. The way in which we approach – or gracefully sidestep – other egos, the way in which we transmute our own impulses from lead to gold, the way we rise above limitation to give freedom to the Only Being, all may bring to beautiful manifestation this saying from Gayan Boulas : The false ego is a false god; when the false god is destroyed, the true God arrives.