Having concentrated my most recent writings on a) completing my series of posts on the Beatitudes and b) writing flash fiction, I am pleased to return to my series on the 99 Names of Allah I began back in June. Today I will discuss the 46th name, Hakim, and the 47th, Wadud.
Sharing the same root (H-K-M) as Hakam, the 28th Name, Hakim is as such related to the discerning wisdom of Hakam, but whereas Hakam “the one who discerns and who makes wise decisions” (Meyere et al. 49), Hakim is healing wisdom. Hakim is “the essential wisdom that brings all experience into balance and harmony” (56). Characterized as a wisdom that is “diamond-like in its clarity” (56), one receives essential guidance along the spiritual path.
The wisdom that is Hakim is derived through inner certainty and in turn manifests as “outward calm and determination” (56). As discussed with the 28th name, the root H-K-M means “to rein in” as a horse. In particular, such reining in is a reining in of uncontrolled emotions such as anger. This reining in, which requires a wisdom, allows the individual the ability to express the emotion or passion in a skillful manner. I know I could definitely use a bit of this kind of wisdom. And since Hakim specifically is healing wisdom, “realization of this divine quality gives you the ability to determine exactly how wisdom can promote healing in each and every instance” (56).
Hakim is most often paired with ‘Aziz and ‘Alim, the 33rd and 19th name respectively. This pairing suggests “practice without knowledge is not wisdom, and knowledge without practice…is not wisdom either. Balance is essential” (349-350). As such, knowledge is an essential component to Hakim.
We probably all know people who act as they know everything. This grandiosity is a defensive strategy, a “cover over an extreme vulnerability…People in this condition are generally afraid to enter a space of not knowing” (350). I definitely remember acting like such when I was younger and from time to time still catch myself doing so. If one can let go of the defense, s/he will be exposed “to the terror that is inside them as well as the depth of what is unknown to them” (351). But facing this is essential and one can begin to “feel safer in the condition of not knowing” (350). This dark place, this deep abyss may be scary yes, but this very same place, the place that can scare the shit out of us is exactly what we need to experience, for like the abyss that is the fathomless waters of Genesis 1, this “place” is the place of pure potentiality and through the experience of such wisdom is born.
Simply put, Wadud “is divine love’s most intimate manifestation” (56).
It is the “constant embrace of the affectionate, loving universe” (56).
It is through Wadud that we learn to love “by learning how to be intimate” (56).
How scare is that? For to be intimate means letting our defenses down and exposing ourselves to another.
The Arabic word for “tent-peg” is derived from the Name’s root. This suggests that “the peg of our deepest desire holds down the tent of our existence” (56).
This intimate love suggests a level of eroticism with this name (90) as it is “the most deeply penetrating connection we have” (91). A clear example of this is found in St. Teresa of Avila’s ecstasy (see picture to right) where if one were to not understand the context of her experience, one might think she is in the throes of sexual pleasure as she is bathed in (and penetrated by) the divine light.
But this love is in our hearts, not between our legs. Particularly it is what is called sirr, our secret heart where “we are physically pegged to Allah” (91). Wadud is this divine love that “may be hidden in the heart even from the lover” (90). The sound code of this Name underscores its deeply penetrating nature as it goes “right into the heart of things, into the essence” (90).
Wadud is often paired with Rahman, the first Name, suggesting that such love appears side by side with compassion and thus “promotes peaceful, harmonious coexistence with the rest of the universe” in which its in line with (90). This kind of loving compassion “involves loving surrender rather than self-will” and “naturally gives rise to peace and harmony” (90, emphasis added).