‘Open your heart as wide as you can to everyone, let it be like the oceans! Be fortified with faith and love people; let there be no sorrowful soul that you do not care for or extend a hand to.” [1]
There is always hope at the shore. At least, while I’m on this ship and in the midst of this turbulent sea, I see hope at the shore. A port to stop at for a break in this boundless sea is good for everyone. After all, the whole crew is rushing around, there is an atmosphere of panic. The storm hasn’t started yet, but all the passengers feel the calm before the storm down to their bones; their faces are full of fear and worry. Whatever I hope to find at the shore will be good for everyone.
I feel lost. I am a passenger on a ship with a set course, but it feels like we are all getting lost together. My thoughts engulf me faster than the wind, I shiver inside, and when I realize standing outside won’t help, I go to my cabin. As soon as I open the door, I see the table in front of me and my book waiting to be read again. My room is for one person; immediately to the right is an old, outdated bed nailed to the floor, opposite it is a mirrored wardrobe that can only hold a few of my belongings, and in between is a small table. The space between the bed and the wardrobe ends in three big steps, so it’s impossible to pace in the room. I find solace in the tours I take on the ship every day. It takes a total of one hour from end to end. If I chat with people on the way, this time extends, but if I’m lost in thought, I find myself back in my room in the blink of an eye.
Lately, I’ve been very pensive. I get lost in waves of thoughts that come and go. These somewhat painful processes fortunately end well. The thought that has occupied me for days is this ship, the journey I’m on, the people in it, the ports we stop at, and the friends I meet there. This journey makes me think and question; why am I here, why am I on this journey?
I remember the prayers I made back in elementary school: “God, let me make a journey like my parents, let me touch people’s hearts.” Then these concise words come to mind: “Be like the soil, let those who don’t sow seeds on your bosom not do so. Be like water, flow in your course; let those who don’t drink from you not drink. Be like the sun, caress heads with your rays; let those who don’t benefit from you not benefit. Be like a tree, cast shadows around you; let those who don’t seek refuge in your shade not seek it. The main thing is to be; once you are, you are truly victorious. If not today, then tomorrow, some appreciative people will say ‘May God be pleased with you!’ when they drink from that cascade or sit in that tree’s shade.” [2]
All I needed to do was be a tree; I needed to grow so large that people could take refuge in my shade. I needed to be flowing water with a bed so long that people could drink from it across continents. But I am neither such a big tree nor a river flowing across continents. Yet, I am not alone. On this ship, I have companions who have been traveling with me for a long time and new friends who join me at every port. At each port, sometimes we meet new people, and sometimes we have heartfelt conversations with our friends. Thus, rivers spanning continents and trees providing shade for millions appear.
When I come to my senses again, I realize I have been here for a long time. I hear a sharp sound; the sound announcing that the ship is approaching the port. Then those gray clouds and fog lift, just like I emerge from the floods of thoughts, and the shore reappears. I see people waiting for us with hope. There is always hope at the shore.
[1] M. Fethullah Gülen, Ölçü veya Yoldaki Işıklar, İstanbul: Nil Yayınları, 2011, s. 113.[2] M. Fethullah Gülen, “Sen tohum at, git!”, herkul.org/bamteli/sen-tohum-at-git/
