The Blurry Telescope and the Journey Home That Was Never Far

I am no longer waiting until I am ready, I am simply choosing to be brave.

Today, I had a conversation with a colleague, laughing at reality and realizing how fast time flies. Life has suddenly become much more serious. I am currently in my sixth semester, and it feels like just yesterday I walked in, yet now I am only one step away from graduating. He murmured softly, how unexpected it is that we have already reached this stage.

I agreed completely. That feeling truly hit me the moment I opened my laptop and started drafting my final thesis for the very first time. We laughed, but that laughter gradually faded, turning into silence. Not an empty silence, but a quietness heavily laden with realization. We were both wrestling with our own minds. He was busy fighting a war with his thesis, and I was consumed by my own writing, trying to weave sentences to strengthen and convince myself that I could definitely do this.

Often, I subconsciously punish myself by writing ten pages in one sitting without even realizing it. For me, writing is an escape, the most potent way to cope with my worries, my fears, and my anxieties about the future or anything else. Today, I tried to appear calm on the outside. But deep down in my heart, in the furthest corners of my mind, all those emotions converged and devoured me from the inside out. The truth is, I am deeply worried and I am terrified.

All this time, fear is an emotion I never wanted to discuss with anyone, not even the slightest bit. I always assumed that everyone else carries the exact same burdens, making me feel that my emotions did not need to be expressed, did not need validation, and were better off buried deeply within myself. I suppressed them so far down that I did not even have the courage to simply write down the word fear. But this time, my walls crumbled. I managed to write it down. I actually wrote it.

That moment truly made me pause and question myself. Why did I not admit this sooner? Why was I so incredibly hard on myself? And in that exact second, I found the answer. That my fears and my worries are not a disgrace, and they are certainly not a defeat. They are merely a crucial process that must occur so I can find my true courage, the courage to keep moving forward.

This might not sound dramatic to some people, but for me, today I am finally able to say to myself: that is where it broke. That was the exact point where all the facades shattered. There is no longer a moment to hide my fragility behind my own ego. There are no more masks, and nothing left to conceal.

I began to sit alongside my fear, stand with it, converse with it, and look at my reflection in the mirror. I realized how incredibly fragile I am, yet how undeniably strong I am at the very same time. I have finally made peace with myself. I will no longer run blindly like I always wanted to. I will simply enjoy every process gracefully and accompany every emotion that surfaces.

This is where the connecting thread reveals itself. Sometimes, in this exhausting race of life, I do not know how to simply stand still without feeling like I am being left behind or entirely lost. That profound exhaustion forced me to withdraw from my endless running, from the boundless ambitions, and made me ask: what am I actually searching for? What is all this panic for?

And this is the pattern I discovered. That fundamentally, human beings need something vastly greater than mere worldly validation or the oxygen that Allah bestows upon us every single day. When worldly ambitions feel too suffocating, that empty point and that fear are actually what save me. That emptiness pulls me back to witness my highest consciousness. I realize that without a foundation, I am unable to leap over it. Relying solely on oneself is exactly like trying to admire the moon through a blurry telescope; it will never be clear.

This phase of fear and feeling lost is a pattern needed not only by me, but by all of humanity, to discipline the ego that so often believes it can do everything alone. The repetition of life and these tedious routines ultimately hold a profound meaning. It is not merely the looping of days; it is a phase that slowly peels away the layers of arrogance obstructing our awareness. It is the most lethal way to kill the noise of the world, allowing us to hear something far more subtle and true.

Because in reality, we humans are the ones who are far too busy distracting ourselves by running after the world. Until one point, when the exhaustion peaks and that attention is drawn back inward, it feels exactly like finding a home we were told could never be found.

Today, I lay down all my weapons. The long war inside my head is over. I am no longer fighting against the harshness of my own ego or forcing myself to race against the ever-ticking time. Everything feels so tranquil and relieving. I put down all my panic, and with the calmest steps, I choose to go home.

And that is the true meaning of the word returning. Returning to the Essence who is never truly far. Because Allah is inherently always connected within every beat of our hearts, waiting for us at the point of our absolute surrender, and is never, even for a moment, detached from the pure consciousness of His servant.