When a sudden mystical experience fades, we return to ordinary faith. The profound divine presence transforms daily practice, teaching us that true connection often means embracing deep inner stillness, contemplative prayer, and the power of silent prayer. The sacred quietly hides in plain sight within our own everyday wordless spiritual silence.
I’ve been praying in Arabic for thirty years. Five times a day. The same words. The same verses. I know them by heart. I can recite them perfectly. But I don’t know what most of them mean. My Arabic is functional. I can read the Quran. My pronunciation is decent. But understanding? That’s different. I’m
Scrolling through high school reunion photos, everyone commented “best years of our lives!” Then I opened my old diary and discovered how brutally my memory had edited the truth.
“We learned in school that we’re made from stars. Is that true?” he asked. Yes, I said. My son looked at his hand. We are made of stars and still we don’t know.
For thirty-something years, I’ve been treating mystery like a problem that needs solving. Every big question—about God, about life, about death—I approached like a puzzle. But sitting there, looking at Arash’s face, I realized: I don’t know. And that felt like relief.
Happy was reorganizing the bookshelf again. I watched from the doorway as she pulled every book out, sorted them by size, then changed her mind and sorted by color. Our small Dhaka apartment was a testament to her need for order. Yet our best conversations never happened in this carefully maintained control and chaos—they happened when the power went out and we sat in the dark
But inside this moment, Karim felt completely, impossibly alone. Not lonely because his family was absent. Lonely because he was awake and conscious.
An elderly man asked me: “I’ve been praying for forty years for Allah to show me my purpose. What if He answers, and I don’t like what He tells me?” His fear of getting answers was mine too.
We tell ourselves we want answers. But buried beneath our seeking is a darker truth—we’re often more comfortable with the mystery than with revelation.
The truth and reality Happy constructs through her care, her attention, her refusal to let circumstances dictate our emotional landscape—this becomes true through the very act of construction.
Curated insights, thoughtfully delivered. No clutter.
