The fasting experience at the Baha’i World Centre is unique in a few ways – being in a work environment where everyone else is also observing the fast means that you have fewer distractions and more understanding from your colleagues; you finish work half an hour earlier than usual, to allow time to prepare for breaking the fast; and you have a wonderful dinner prepared for you on weekdays. The environment adds greatly to the spiritualizing effect of the fast because of our great bounty to have access to the Shrines, and to be able to walk around the gardens and meditate. Having friends who are fasting who live close by is an added bonus because you can get together frequently to pray and meditate, and to prepare and have your meals.

The last few years I have been really enjoying the opportunity this provides for having a special fast:

2007

In 2007 I had a project which was due shortly after the fast, and had to work hard through the fast to make the deadline. This proved a great source of motivation, and working with a friend on the project (Saba Moghbelpour) we would make the most of our time by working in the mornings and a little after dinner. I would get up at 3:30am, shower and shave, iron clothes and get ready, pray and meditate then head off to Saba’s house. We would prepare and have a quick breakfast and by 5:30 we’d be on the computer, coding. Most days we would head home after work and eat great food that Saba’s wife Sieni had prepared, and then do an hour or two of coding before rushing off to bed.

Thus passed a memorable fast, we added many features to our project by the deadline, and shall always remember what a productive fast we had and the potential of “early to bed, early to rise”.

2008

The next year, I planned in advance for the fast. I prepared a list of friends whom I would like to have over for breakfast (as most people live close enough I had many to choose from), and sent invitations to them a good two months in advance. I live in a flat with one flatmate, and our dining area is pretty small so we restricted ourselves to having two to six people on our invite list. Then, a week before each day of the fast, I would send the guests a reminder email, and another email the day before.

We had good attendance, with maybe an 80% show-up rate, had a great time preparing breakfast every day and having it together, and sharing prayers and meditating on some quotes afterwards. A few times we had some group discussion too, on a random topic.

After the first day, the friends we had invited decided to take turns hosting such a breakfast at their place, which they proceeded to do and we joined them after our invite lists had run out.

2009

Looking back at this social experience of the fast, I find it extremely rewarding and would love to continue in the same vein this year. However, I felt that there was too much of a focus on the food and too little on the spiritual aspect. So this year, I hope to plan more for the spiritual and maybe simplify the material aspect by putting less effort in preparing more than one type of food.

I’m also unsure whether we should host every day of the fast at our place and invite friends over, or to have it in a different house every day – the first option would imply more work on our part as hosts but spending time with a wider group of people, albeit only one day with each – while the second option means spending lots of time with one group but less work as a host. I think I still prefer the first option.

As for the main spiritual aspect, one idea has surfaced that I will be exploring in more detail – to see how we can, both individually and by helping each other, learn the habit of bringing ourselves to account each day. I feel this is something lacking in my life and it would greatly enhance my spiritual growth.

If you have any ideas for what to do during the fast or comments on bringing oneself to account each day please post them below!

The following is a story from The Heroic Female Spirit: A Collection of Tales, by Phyllis K. Peterson. The stories are inspired by teachings of the Bahá’í Faith, and reinforce spiritual qualities. They also provide positive examples of girls and women who learn to see their own capacity to create change. Grab a copy and read it, if you get a chance!

THE GIRL WHO COULD OPEN DOORS WITH HER HEART

King Shevon, like so many rulers before him, was unsatisfied with his rule. He desired complete obedience from his subjects and wished that the very sound of his voice would compel them to obey his wishes. He was not a cruel man, but he craved more power, unlike queen Raisa, who was wisely less controlling and more beneficent toward the people. Little did King Shevon know that the wind was listening to him and, hearing his desire to command, decided to carry his wishes far and wide, though not in the way that he hoped.

One night as he slept, worries that thieves would try to steal his royal treasures crept into his dreams. He awoke in the middle of the night in a panic. “Let no one open that door!” he called out, referring to the door to the royal treasury.

The next morning he rushed down to the treasury to make sure it was still secure, but when he tried to open the door to inspect his riches, he found that it was stuck fast. He called the captain of the guards—a huge brute of a man—who pushed and kicked, but the door remained stuck. He called the commander of the knights, an intelligent and resourceful man who had saved the kingdom numerous times, but after ten hearty heaves and ten hefty hos, he had dents in his armor, and still the door would not open.

Realizing that brute strength and sheer intelligence weren’t enough, the king called the architect who had designed the castle, thinking surely he could find a way around the door. The man scratched his head, looked at the blueprints, and investigated the structure but could find no way in. Thinking perhaps it was a problem with the locks, the king summoned the royal locksmith. After trying key after key after key and hearing click after tumble after click with no results, the locksmith declared that it was not the lock.

Within days the king was running out of money. There were many things that needed to be done. He and the queen were planning a lavish holiday celebration and the date was fast approaching. There were plans to be made and food to be bought. There were dresses and suits to be tailored, and gifts to be purchased. He began to grow despondent.

In despair, the king sent for the wizard. When the wizard arrived, he gazed at the door and scratched his beard. He performed a magic chant and touched the door to the treasury with his wand, but still the door did not open. “What kind of spell is this that is stronger than your magic, wizard?” asked the king.

The wizard said something that really confused the king: “Only one who is truly innocent can solve this mystery. The solution is carried on the wind, and only one who is pure of heart can listen to it.”

The king was distraught, for he did not believe in innocence. He was a wary, skeptical king who had seen much and been disappointed by many. He was convinced that nowhere in his kingdom or in any other kingdom was there someone so pure and capable. If the door could only be opened by an innocent, why then, it could never be opened; the king pronounced it impossible to open. Little did he know that it was he who had endangered his entire kingdom!

Meanwhile bills were piling up with no way to pay them. Guests for the upcoming celebration sent messages of their imminent arrival, but the king knew there would be no food in the pantry to feed them and no exotic gifts to present to them if he did not find a way to open the door to the treasury.

As the king slept that night he had an ominous dream. He dreamed that three men were ravaging his kingdom. The first man was obese and was eating virtually everything in the kingdom that was edible, growing visibly fatter by the minute. The second man was covered with disfiguring open sores that would not heal; wherever he went, everyone fled from him in horror. The third man was a masked bandit who was terrorizing people throughout the land, stealing their money and possessions and leaving them penniless. The king awoke in a sweat in the middle of the night, disturbed by the vision in his dream. He felt it portended some great misfortune but did not know exactly what to make of it. The next morning he called for the royal soothsayer to come to his chamber to interpret the dream.

When the soothsayer arrived, the king recounted his dream in careful detail. “What does this dream mean?” the king asked. “It makes no sense to me, but it leaves me with a feeling of great dread. I’m afraid it may be an omen.”

“In truth, your majesty, I believe you will not like what I have to say,” said the soothsayer, “but I must tell you that your kingdom will be visited by disaster.”

“Just as I feared,” said the king. “But what kind of disaster? Can you tell me more?”

“The man who eats too much represents famine and hunger,” replied the soothsayer. “Something will threaten the kingdom’s food supply, and your people will go hungry if you do not act.”

“I see,” said the king, looking very puzzled indeed, for as far as he knew, the farms and farmers of his realm were thriving, and he was aware of no immediate threat to the food supply. “And what about the man with the skin malady’?” he asked.

“He is sickness and death. Your kingdom will be threatened by a plague,” said the soothsayer.

“How can this be?” said the king. “My people are in good health, and we have the finest healers!” The king was becoming very perplexed and began to wonder if he should trust the royal soothsayer. “And what do you make of the masked bandit?” he asked somewhat dubiously.

“Poverty, your majesty.” The soothsayer paused, seeming somewhat embarrassed and uncomfortable. He continued hesitantly, “There are problems with money and finances. The people are being deprived of what should be theirs, and they will suffer if this continues.”

“Oh, nonsense!” cried the king. “This makes no sense at all!” He dismissed the soothsayer and gave the matter no more thought.

Later that same clay, however, the king discovered to his horror that the omens in his dream had come true. Alarming reports came in saying that half the people in his kingdom had suddenly fallen ill with a mysterious disease. Furthermore, locusts had descended on the kingdom’s crops and were rapidly decimating them. And as if that weren’t enough, the king’s creditors were threatening revolt if he did not pay his bills at once.

His mind turned dark, as did his heart. He went once again to the treasury door and tried to open it, but still found it stuck fast. “Life always did deal with me harshly,” he thought. “I don’t think I can survive this.”

When the king awoke the next morning, he felt very ill and worried that the same mysterious illness that was spreading through the kingdom had now afflicted him. He called the royal physician, who predicted the worst. When the king heard this dire prognosis, his condition worsened. He had a raging fever and in his delirium he tossed and turned. The wind heard his moans and knew that he was near death, so it tickled his ear with a name: Florence.

“Florence,” the king said weakly, not really understanding why, but feeling suddenly that he needed to see her.

The physician looked at the queen and asked, “Who pray tell, is Florence?”

Queen Raisa shrugged her shoulders. She knew nobody by that name. The queen and the physician asked the royal census taker if he knew of anyone named Florence.

“No,” he said, “I’ve heard of no woman in this kingdom named Florence.”

But the king kept repeating the name, and Queen Raisa thought that perhaps this mysterious woman named Florence held the key to her husband’s survival. With his condition worsening rapidly, it became clear that something had to be done, and quickly.

She cast a loving glance at the suffering king and decided to take matters into her own hands. Riding on horseback, she went from village to village to inquire about a woman named Florence. There were many women: Kathryn, Gertrude, Vanessa, Cecilia, and countless others, but no one named Florence.

The queen passed through village after village with no success. After visiting every single village in her husband’s kingdom, still there was no woman called Florence to be found. The sun was beginning to set, and soon she would be forced to turn back. She was terribly thirsty and needed a drink before turning around to head back to the castle. As she passed through the very last village, preparing to turn back, she spotted a child smiling at her from the window of a broken-down shack. The child had the most angelic smile the queen had ever seen. The queen was enchanted by the sweet and simple nature of the girl and decided this was as good a place as any to stop for a drink of water. She approached the shack and knocked on the door. The child answered.

“I’m in need of a drink of water, dear child. May I come in?”

The child did not know who she was dealing with, for she had never before seen the queen and did not curtsy, but she gladly offered a cup of water to satisfy her guest’s thirst.

The queen asked, “Child, do you know a woman named Florence?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t,” the girl answered.

This was very discouraging. The queen was losing hope. “What is your name, child?” the queen asked, making a mental note to be sure to remember the name of this friendly girl when she returned to the castle so she could later send a royal thank-you note.
“Florence,” she replied.

“But I thought you said you didn’t know anyone named Florence!” said the queen.

“You asked me if I knew any woman named Florence, Ma’am. I thought you were looking for a grown-up,” the girl explained.

“Why, then, I wonder if you are who I am looking for?” said the queen, somewhat puzzled. She did not see how a child could possibly be of any use in this situation, yet she was desperate enough to try nearly anything, for there was little to lose at this point. “Florence,” she said, “would you ask your mother if you may come with me to the royal castle? The king is very sick, and I believe you can help.”

“Of course I will,” said Florence. Her mother happily gave her consent for Florence to go, and together the pair rode back to the castle. Florence was brought before the king.

“Florence,” he cried out in his fever. “Save me, save us all!”

Florence looked at the queen, who encouraged her with a gentle nudge.

Florence approached the king. “What is it you need me to do, Sir’?” she asked.

“Florence, my kingdom is in great danger and nearly at its end,” said the king. With great effort, he sat up in bed, feverish and drenched in sweat. “Do you know the answer to what has befallen me and my kingdom? Can you advise me about what to do?” he asked. He really did not expect that she—a mere child, and a girl at that—would be able to solve these perplexing problems, but for the moment he was willing to let her try.

“Sir, all I know is what my mother taught me: that the words we speak become our future when the wind carries them to all the forces of the universe,” she told him.

“The wind?” The king asked, unsure of how to interpret the words. Then he remembered what the wizard had told him, that only one who is pure-hearted could listen to the wind. “Can you hear the voice of the wind, Florence? Will it tell you why I’ve become sick, or why I can’t open the door to my treasury?” asked the king.

Florence closed her eyes and listened intently for a long time, not with her ears, but with her heart. She heard the whisper of the wind as it moved through the room, and she heard the faint echoes of the king’s own words that had created his affliction.

She opened her eyes and looked at the king. She quietly told him, “You closed the treasury yourself—don’t you remember? I heard you say that no one could open the door, and the wind carried your words to the forces of the universe. Then you said you were tired of being the king. The words you spoke became your future. And when you said, ‘I don’t think I can survive this,’ that’s when you became sick.”

“But what must I do to change all of this?” begged the king.

“Speak words of blessing, your majesty, and your future will change,” Florence replied.

King Shevon sat up and pondered this wisdom. Then with all the strength he had in his body, he cried out, “Bless this kingdom and its king!”

Then Queen Raisa, too, took up the cry, “Bless this kingdom and its king!”

Then Florence joined them, saying, “Bless this kingdom and its king!” And the wind carried this chant far and wide across the land, to every valley and hill and every meadow and stream. Almost immediately the king felt some life flowing back into his veins, but still he was not completely well.

“What you have said can’t simply be undone with words— it requires acts of blessing, too,” Florence explained. “You must show kindness and rule with wisdom.”

By now the king was sipping some hot chicken soup and was feeling much better. Finishing that, he decided to test his legs to see if he had recovered enough to stand up again. Finding that he could, he called for his cane and asked everyone to follow him to the treasury door.

“Let the door open,” he said. He grasped its handle and turned and pulled it, but to his disappointment he found the door still wouldn’t budge. “What more must I do to open the treasury?” he asked Florence.

“For this,” she told him, “you must perform an act of generosity. Instead of hoarding your riches and possessions, you must give away what you have no need for.”

“Hmmm. I have many things that are not being used.” He paused to think on this for a moment. “Captain of the guards!” he called. “Whatever is not of use to our family, I wish to dispense to the people of the village.” And so it was done.

Gaining confidence, the king declared, “I take back every untrue word I have said about life, people, health, prosperity, and this door! I want those false words to return to nothing because they arose from the vain imaginings of my heart. Now and forevermore, I want the wind to spread my blessings throughout the land.”
Florence’s heart was filled with love and admiration for the king. She stood beside him and together they visualized the door opening. “Bless this door, for it is good,” they spoke to the wind. “Bless this door, for it is a willing servant to the king. It opens with kindness, it closes with kindness.” Just then, a gentle wind began to blow through the window, and the door creaked open.

The queen, amazed at what she had seen, asked Florence, “Child, if you have this great wisdom, why do you live so humbly?”

“I lived humbly before, but now look!” she said, leading them outside the castle into view of the nearby village. The entire village had been transformed. Instead of huts and shacks, there were beautiful homes. The illness that had afflicted the people faded, and there were joyful people making preparations to replant the crops the locusts had destroyed. Not only that, but a caravan of camels approached, carrying in new supplies to replenish the decimated food supply. It was truly a paradise!

From that moment on the king, the queen, and everyone in the kingdom were careful to speak only words of truth and blessing. If something went wrong in their lives, they blessed it with their words and deeds and imagined it being set right. If someone wronged them, they blessed the errant one with all the love in their heart and beseeched the forces of the universe to make them as one. And the wind circled the earth with all their blessings!

Ordered from Amazon, a week later it’s in my hands, all 886 pages. Can’t wait to read it..

lessan.info/pixels

A photoblog is a blog whose primary content is photographs, i.e. the emphasis is on the photography not the text. There are tens of thousands of these photoblogs out there, as you can see at photoblogs.org (check it out, some of the featured photoblogs are great!).

The idea, at least the one I will be using, is that you post just the one featured photograph on the main front page, with links to archives of previous posts. There may be a brief description of the photograph below it. I’m aiming to post at least one photo a week, and at this stage it will be photos of food, mostly.

One could argue that this blog is a photoblog, but I never really meant it to be so it will change over time.

Current photo on lessan.info/pixels:

Details by geographic location:

A word of warning about the stats – there are a lot of automated services out there that will visit websites on a regular basis, e.g. googlebot, yahoo slurp, msnbot, etc. and although Google Analytics tries to filter these out there is no guarantee it will.

Also, there are a lot of spammers that visit blogs and post comments with advertising links. These spammers sometimes use proxies in different parts of the world, so don’t get too excited about that visit from Uruguay or Ecuador or some other exotic place, it is most probably a proxy in that country for an automated spamming service.

Images normally have a grey border:

An image which links to it’s gallery has a blue border:

Sauce:

Salad:

All on a plate:

And some "asides":

Changes include:

• Upgraded the software used to manage this blog (WordPress 2.0 now)
• Changed the theme – picture, formatting, font sizes, etc
• Added a module which shows relative time (e.g. “2 hours ago”)
• Added a few links to other blogs
• Posts from now on will default to bigger, better, fatter pictures
  (440px instead of 320px)
• And best of all! I seem to have found a way to prevent every single picture on the website from reloading every time you click on something. This was happening for some people… should be much faster now.

The last update to this site was on 9 January, and it is now 29 January so 20 days. What can I say – I was busy, and the novelty seems to have worn off.
Now comes the real test – I will have to answer some questions. How often should I post? What of? For whom? If you have any suggestions let me know.
In the meanwhile, I will keep posting in the patented Lessan style!