By nature we desire quick results from what we do, especially if we are engaged in a noble pursuit seeking a noble outcome. “Man is indeed given to haste,” the Quran (17:11) reminds us. Yet this apparent statement of the obvious is accompanied by an admonition: the human being, not seeing the desired fruits quickly or at all, “invokes evil upon himself as eagerly as he invokes good,” striking an attitude of arrogance and cursing the heavens and others rather than looking inwardly. The conditions of life today intensify this spiritual pathology. Living as most of us do in constantly illuminated cities, driving everywhere and growing little of what we eat, we are largely cut off from the rhythms of the natural world that might remind us of how bizarre are our impatient expectations. The plant and animal worlds live out their appointed terms. Night gradually overtakes daylight, and daylight gradually effaces night. None but the human being asks to be noticed or to quicken the process.
An attitude of arrogant haste may have otherworldly consequences for believers, but it can also do great damage to the individuals and communities that make up society. Specifically, I find that students, in a time when they should be permitted to focus on their self-development, are placed under immense pressure—by parents, peers, or just the surrounding culture—not only to perform in their studies and to chase prestige but to do something “relevant” in the world. Our radical interconnectedness, through instant images and messages, further encourages them to seek fleeting recognition but often serves only to worsen a feeling of imposture.
So alongside the encouragement to be deeply involved in university activities should come the invitation to be, if you wish, just be an obscure face in the crowd. That is not doing nothing; that is not laziness; that is not being irrelevant. In fact, doing that puts you in the company not only of the natural world but of the great people in history. Nearly everyone who became known for something was once unknown, even unremarkable, and many were not appreciated during their lives. In their period of obscurity, they cultivated, through quiet diligence, the qualities that made them great and did not hasten the unfolding of fate. Those who bloomed and wilted too early, like a washed-up a high school quarterback, more often than not fell into bitter oblivion.
Ibn ʿAtaʾillah, a thirteenth-century Muslim scholar and sage from Egypt, wrote a famous collection of Aphorisms to aid and inspire those on a spiritual path to God. One of these wisdoms offers the following wise counsel: “Bury your being in the soil of obscurity, for no sprout that was not first buried ever bears full fruit.” The seed sits unseen and silent before it germinates and grows and yields its produce. What’s the rush? Be like the lowly sprout and enjoy your time of obscurity.
