from Mirrors of the Unseen: Journeys in Iran
by Jason Elliot
I had come to a small village on the edge of the desert to follow an unlikely clue. Years before, I had read an enigmatic mention of "a monastery in Persia" where visitors were said to weep spontaneously on entering a particular room. I had often wondered if such a place might really exist, and was skeptical of the universality of the claim. There are no monasteries in Iran, but there are shrines raised to the saints of the Sufi tradition, whose followers dedicated themselves to the life of the spirit.
In one such place, a kindly dervish showed me to the shrine-room of the saint. I could not have guessed that I had found the place until sitting there alone, I found myself sobbing uncontrollably. Not with tears of joy or pain, but of feeling in the grip of a presence, a force of unutterable goodness. Others have described a similar experience. Religious persuasion, or lack of it, does not seem to be relevant. All testify to an encounter with an entity of overwhelming benevolence, and a feeling of having been overcome and reduced, momentarily, as if to dust.
Besides Mirrors of the Unseen: Journeys in Iran, British travel writer and novelist Jason Elliot has written An Unexpected Light: Travels in Afghanistan and The Network.
I like his self-effacing introduction at his website:
[/I]http://www.jasonelliot.com/Welcome.html
by Jason Elliot
I had come to a small village on the edge of the desert to follow an unlikely clue. Years before, I had read an enigmatic mention of "a monastery in Persia" where visitors were said to weep spontaneously on entering a particular room. I had often wondered if such a place might really exist, and was skeptical of the universality of the claim. There are no monasteries in Iran, but there are shrines raised to the saints of the Sufi tradition, whose followers dedicated themselves to the life of the spirit.
In one such place, a kindly dervish showed me to the shrine-room of the saint. I could not have guessed that I had found the place until sitting there alone, I found myself sobbing uncontrollably. Not with tears of joy or pain, but of feeling in the grip of a presence, a force of unutterable goodness. Others have described a similar experience. Religious persuasion, or lack of it, does not seem to be relevant. All testify to an encounter with an entity of overwhelming benevolence, and a feeling of having been overcome and reduced, momentarily, as if to dust.
Besides Mirrors of the Unseen: Journeys in Iran, British travel writer and novelist Jason Elliot has written An Unexpected Light: Travels in Afghanistan and The Network.
I like his self-effacing introduction at his website:
[/I]http://www.jasonelliot.com/Welcome.html
