I wanted a sanctuary
I didn’t see for me a sanctuary
So, I made me a sanctuary
But I didn’t know how to make sanctuaries
So, my sanctuary was flawed
But, it was mine.
And it was functioning
However flawed
But it wasn’t a sanctuary
I thought it was
Convinced myself it was
Found peace in solitude
But solitude should be chosen
So, found pain in isolation
A choice that seemed tranquil
But, it was another virus
And definitely not an antidote
So, I sought for a master antidote
One to cure all my ills
Couldn’t find it within
For my method is to siphon
And when there was nothing to siphon,
Got into an emotional overdraft
Withdrawing from a nonexistent account
So, the intending companions should take note
That I have some debt to pay
Before I can be back to positivity
But I also searched for a sanctuary
External to myself
And it’s said by my people
That the one who searches
For that which none before has searched for
Would see what hasn’t been seen earlier.
I searched what others had searched for
But I found what others didn’t
I am me. Therefore, not them.
Why did I expect to find the same as them?
Mum’s and Dad’s were for a son
And I am a son
Well, a simulated one.
What is a son?
A son is xyz
I’d be xyz, so I’d be a son
But I’m more than a son
I am a thousand-tailed fox,
Sealed within myself.
When the son-tail comes out,
The parents’ sanctuary feels filled
But what about the other tails?
Yet being a son betters being homeless
So, I kept the key to that sanctuary
And looked even further
Found friends and fiends
Was both to both
All in this quest that I have questioned
Is it worth it?
Intellect, money, time, heart, and soul?
In search for a sanctuary to house them
Giving away these things
In exchange for where to keep them.
If I get where to keep them,
Would they still exist?
I’m the conundrum that I seek to answer
So, I partied with in-existence
But, I found a anchor
Well, and another
And others like fishes in a sea.
But to every anchor,
I was attached to a facade
Not because the anchor claimed
That it should be anchored to
But I because I didn’t ask for a name
I assigned a name
Named the sky my sea
But I couldn’t sail to grace
The sky didn’t err
It was the namer who mistook
Called a variable a constant
Questioned why it changed
It wasn’t a constant to begin with
Realized that I needed a constant
Found bliss with The Divine
BismiLlah,
The poem is from mid-2021, a very turbulent time in my life. I remember being that kid who found peace in mathematics, logic, and chess. I would believe that the path to success is logical, rational, cold, and known. I took this mindset into adulthood. The time that I spent studying Computational Thinking, Mathematical Analysis, Systematic Theology, and Behavioral Psychology fortified this mindset.
This was my mathematics. I trusted the mathematics. It kept me safe. Or, so I believed – because I kept crashing. What was supposed to keep me safe became the very thing that cut through my flesh and my heart. It was a double-edged sword that could be manipulated to harm the wielder, especially when the wielder becomes the tool.
It would tear me apart, creating multiple dimensions and trying to solve problems in all possible dimensions. It would simulate unrealistic realities and have me live in my reality with conclusions from pseudo-epistemic rather than ontological analysis.
The screenshot is from a DISC test I took June 4th, 2021. My favorite step towards progress started with a simple phrase: “Allah is my mathematics.”
حَسْبِيَ اللّٰهُ لَا إِلٰهَ إِلَّا هُوَ ، عَلَيْهِ تَوَكَّلْتُ ، وَهُوَ رَبُّ الْعَرْشِ الْعَظِيْمِ.
Ḥasbiya-Allāhu lā ilāha illā Huwa, ʿalayhi tawakkaltu, wa Huwa Rabbu-l-ʿArshi-l-ʿaẓīm.
Allah is sufficient for me. There is no god worthy of worship except Him. I have placed my trust in Him only and He is the Lord of the Magnificent Throne.
The mathematics works. I trust it. Allah is my mathematics. I trust Him.
It's interesting how the Arabic word for sufficiency and calculation have the same root: h-s-b. The calculation ended at The One who is Al-Wakeel, Al-Qarib, Al-Ilah, Ar-Rabb, Ar-Rahman, Ar-Razzaq, and Al-Qaadir-al-Muqtadir. And refusing to put anything/anyone else in His place.
The silence lingers. Because, what next?
– Umar Hfe
Started on Ramadan 29th, 1445 or April 8th, 2024
Today is Shawwal 1st, 1445 or April 10th, 2024