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The Happy Future

by Fethullah Gülen on . Posted in Towards the Lost Paradise

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"Life is possible only through hope;
The hopeless are distressed and unhappy."
Mehmet Akif

My eyes closed, I imagine the happy future being formed in the 'land of my hope'. Beauties of every sort coming out from corners of existence run through our houses and streets, and through institutions of education and worship, and military training, and then they are reflected back in the rooms of our houses, enveloping us in the form of a flood of light. Combined with colours, this light forms a rainbow, under which I run continuously to 'set it up' in my eyes and soul as an everlasting arch of happiness.

While we pass in a second under any arch set up on worldly occasions, it seems impossible to pass under this heavenly arch (rising) over us. As we run under it, we feel our life united with the whole of existence in an endless stream, and watch in amusement the things flowing back after a short halt on our either side to greet us, and replaced by new ones. We are enraptured with the immaterial pleasures coming from that continuous stream of things and intimacy between them and us.

Trees sway gently with breeze; hills are green and radiant; sheep pasturing here and there skip and bleat, and villages, big and small, scattered on slopes and in plains and valleys. We observe in delight how all these contribute to a universal harmony, and comment that a life-span is not enough to imbibe all these pleasures.

These colours and lights and sounds, and this liveliness springing from the breast of existence, are reflected in the world of our emotions, and we feel as if we were listening to lyrics composed of sweet day-dreams and memories flowing in waves. We absorb the vast book of nature arousing in us spiritual pleasures with its heaven containing the sun, the moon and stars, and its earth comprising mountains, plains, gardens, forests and rivers. This book fills us with indescribable delight and joy and elevates us to the higher realms of existence.

Each season we become as if we wakened from a different sleep of death and find ourselves before various colours ranging from purple to green. We feel caressed by breezes conveying the perfume of flowers and fruits and ears of grain.

These tremendous spectacles, which implant in souls the sense of beauty, give some relief even to those pessimists who always see everything through the window of their dark souls and are overwhelmed with evil thoughts and suspicions. As for the believing souls, time 'streams' in them echoing the melody of life in each cell of them. Mornings come upon them with the songs of gentle breezes through the leaves of trees, the murmur of streams, the twittering of birds and the cries of children. The sun sets in their horizon arousing in them different feelings of love and excitement, and nights take them, in various pitches of music, through the mysterious tunnels of time and most romantic spectacles of nature.

Every spectacle we observe within the horizon of belief and hope, and every voice we hear, removes all the veils from our souls and takes us through paradise valleys, radiant, soft, pure, serene and pleasant, in which time acquires infinity. This peace attracts us into fascinating worlds, half-seen, half-unseen, which we have long been watching with the eyes of our hearts as if from behind a 'lace curtain'.

At this point, when the spirit is enraptured with the pleasure of observation, the tongue keeps silence, eyes are closed and ears no longer receive sounds; everything is voiced with the tongue of the heart. Pure thoughts and feelings envelop man as vapour of joy and excitement, and, in the face of such dazzling spectacles, the spirit feels as if walking in gardens of paradise. Dec 1987, Vol 9, Issue 107