EGOMANIA EGOMANIA By Habib Dabajeh No man departs from this earthly realm without carrying within him some trace of imperfection, no matter how minuscule. As we leave, we bear a heavy load of our deeds, poised to be weighed in the impartial scales of justice. The soul, fragile and yearning, finds itself ensnared by the relentless desires of the heart and the ceaseless inquiries of the mind. We forfeit the promises of eternal life and profound happiness, instead choosing to gamble recklessly on the fleeting pleasures of this world. “We are born ignorant,” proclaims The Book of Truth; it encapsulates our essence and the sum of what we have become. Day after day, we fail to perceive the subtle signs of time slipping away, the relentless catastrophes ravaging our planet, or the painful departures of those we hold dear. We remain shackled by the chains of worldly attachments, lost in our ignorance, unable to notice the beauty and abundance that envelop us. Each day is a tapestry of miracles, yet we take them for granted, for our minds have grown too accustomed to the fleeting ideals of this existence. Imagine, if only for an ephemeral moment, if He were to part the veil and reveal a glimpse of Paradise, showcasing the unparalleled beauty that awaits noble souls. If we were to behold it with our very eyes, engaging all five senses in this divine spectacle, how then would we respond? Would we choose to traverse an endless desert, burdened by a two-hundred-pound sack of bricks strapped to our backs from dawn until dusk for eight decades, without a single complaint whispered to the heavens? Would we, through long, wearisome nights, close our eyes only to be haunted by overwhelming dreams, seeking solace and fervently praying from the depths of our despair, crying out for a chance to attain that heavenly abode? We would bow down in earnest prayer, sacrificing our rest until our bodies, exhausted, wither away. Each hard-earned penny would be offered to charity, given freely without an ounce of hesitation. Yet the windows to that celestial vision remain closed, shrouding our souls from indulgence and persuasion. We are merely promised the enjoyment of this temporary existence, unburdened by weighty responsibilities, bestowed with the gift of free will to navigate the paths we choose. Each new dawn presents an opportunity to repent for our transgressions, and to seek forgiveness for our human frailties. We wait, hoping for Him to lift our souls upon His Shoulders, enabling us to witness every window thrown wide open across the vast horizons of eternity. Yet, we find ourselves fretting over this delicate, withering rose of life, oblivious to the eternal garden that beckons us. Ghazali once proclaimed, “Falsehood has vanished, and Truth has prevailed.” The soul, crafted in the essence of Truth, often finds the heart sunk in the mire of Falsehood, casting a shadow over the mind’s knowledge. Despite this, His gentle call reaches out to us, offering signs and guidance, but our hearts are tethered too tightly, and our yearning eyes remain blind. His Boundless Love cradles us tenderly like a mother embracing her infant, yet we squirm and cry, yearning for freedom to indulge in the transient pleasures of this existence. Even as we crawled in our infancy, He called to us; as we learned to walk, His voice still beckoned, and it will continue to call even as old age makes us slow and our bodies begin to crumble. Thus, He embodies The Merciful One, The Compassionate One. However, His Mercy and Compassion are confined to our earthly span, as He longs to guide us toward our rightful place. We are often oblivious to the fleeting nature of time, slipping away like a slow and silent death, ensnared in our distractions, continually turning our backs. Only when our eyes open in the stillness of the grave, confronted by fear and regret’s icy grip upon our souls, do we respond with a shudder, “My Lord, I am here!” But in that moment of realization, the Love we have continuously evaded throughout our lives may turn away, leaving us to confront the echoes of our choices. ©Habib Dabajeh