Human beings long to have a purpose, something that gives meaning to life, a goal toward which we can focus our energies, for when we lack a direction we lose our way: we become indecisive, confused and despondent. Then we may seek relief in distractions, meaningless place-holders for a purpose, activities and experiences of little importance that keep us occupied and fill in the time, but which won’t make us happy. On the contrary, very often these distractions have a negative effect on our physical and mental health.

Pir-o-Murshid Inayat Khan gave an extensive set of lectures on this topic, available in the first of the Message volumes as ‘The Purpose of Life.’ He taught that in each life there is a minor and a major purpose, and that in order to fulfil the greater purpose, which is a spiritual goal however we may perceive it, it is necessary to first fulfil the lesser purpose by an accomplishment or a degree of mastery in the world, for that is our apprenticeship. From the first step we learn the necessary skills and disciplines for the accomplishment of the second step. To give an example, a poet might devote her or himself to the polishing of the craft of poetry, mastering vocabulary, rhythms, poetic forms, literary allusions, figures of speech, and so on, but through years of dedication to perfection come at last to the realisation that the vast spread of beauty is only hinted at by words, and that the Divine is beyond the limits of language.

The problem for the average person, though, is that from within the confusing turbulence of our own life it is difficult to apply such examples, and we are left asking ourselves if we have perhaps, or perhaps not, completed the first step, and if so, puzzling how to orient ourselves toward the second step, the greater purpose. In the Aphorisms, though, there is a sentence which could be very helpful: The angels were made to sing the praises of the Lord; the djinns to imagine, to dream, to meditate; but man is created to show humanity in his character.

Although there are billions of members of the human race, from the Sufi point of view there are few who qualify as ‘human.’ If we are spiritually asleep, we are not much above the animal nature that comes with our physical existence; our horizon is limited to the senses and the appetites. In this understanding, therefore, to be human is a significant achievement. It is said that Sufi Sarmad Kashani, an inspired mystic who lived in Delhi in the time of Emperor Aurangzeb, was once wandering naked through the streets when a friend gently suggested he should put some clothes on. “Why?” asked Sarmad. “Well,” his friend said, “there are people here.” And Sarmad replied, “I see no people.”

To show humanity in our character is to feel compassion for those around us, to recognize their suffering, and to sympathise. There are certainly traces of this in the animal world, but it only reaches its fulness in the person whose heart has truly opened, and who may hold not just those who are near and dear but the whole world in the heart. In Gayan Talas we find: “He is living whose sympathy is awake, and he is dead whose heart is asleep.” From this we can understand that we were made to consider others and share their sorrows and their pains. Hazrat Inayat Khan, in a text called ‘The Awakening of the Soul,’ said : What is necessary is to be wide awake in life and to see what is asked of us by our friend, by our neighbor, or by the stranger who is traveling with us, becoming more and more considerate and observing what is expected of us, asking ourselves: do we harm him or do we serve him? Are we kind to that person or do we hurt him? 

When this becomes our way of life, doubts about our purpose will be forgotten – because we will have forgotten our self.