THE HOLY TREK THE HOLY TREK HABIB DABAJEH PART I Who’s to say if I was truly awake or lost in the depths of a half-formed dream? Nonetheless, I felt a profound awareness of myself and the world surrounding me. My eyes captured the vivid images before me, my hearing registered the whispers of nature, and my mind was alert, despite being utterly transfixed by the beauty that unfolded. One early morning, the torrential rains that had drummed on the rooftops ceased as abruptly as they had begun. The roses, drenched yet vibrant, lifted their heads proudly, their wet petals shimmering like jewels as they danced gently in the warm embrace of the sun. Squirrels frolicked and chased one another, their playful antics bringing life to the scene, while butterflies floated effortlessly, their colorful wings a delicate contrast to the rich greens of the foliage. In the distance, a desperate robin pecked at the damp earth, seeking a morsel to ease its hunger. I stood at the threshold of a long, desolate road that stretched out before me, an endless ribbon of possibility. Its path was framed by trees and bushes, all interwoven in a divine arrangement that spoke of nature’s artistry. After indulging in a hearty breakfast that filled me with energy, I felt an overwhelming urge to traverse this road, eager to uncover the beauty of nature that humbles even the most hardened poet’s heart. Overhead, the sky was a brilliant canvas, painted a deep blue with not a single cloud to mar its perfection. The sun, a golden orb, slowly climbed the horizon, casting long shadows behind me. With the warmth of the sun on my back and thoughts of God in my heart, I exhaled deeply, preparing to embark on my journey. As I walked, I encountered a towering tree, its branches heavy with life. Two birds perched delicately upon a limb, and recognizing their need for an audience, I paused to bask in their sweet chorus. Their melody filled the air with serene beauty, and in that moment, I felt a kinship with the earth, honoring the role of a poet in celebration of nature’s music. Satisfied with this small tribute, I continued my trek, finding myself enveloped in a lovely, densely populated forest that felt like a sanctuary from the chaos of society. The beauty that surrounded me was truly indescribable; to attempt to encapsulate it in mere words would be a futile endeavor. It resembled a hidden realm where euphoria reigned supreme, untouched by the burdens of the world. An old poet’s words echoed in my mind: “And if He closes before you all passages and ways, He will show you a hidden path which no one has ever seen…” And so, in this moment of clarity and tranquility, I found myself wandering along a path that felt both sacred and secretive. The weather was serene, the sky a vivid expanse of blue, but as I ventured deeper into this enchanting wood, a bittersweet feeling crept upon me. I hadn’t kept track of my distance; I was now utterly lost. Alone and frightened, I felt the weight of isolation pressing down, realizing that solitude was not a state meant for the human soul. As I stood surrounded by the whispering trees, I began to hear eerie sounds echoing through the forest, and dark clouds began to gather ominously overhead, stirring a sense of dread within me. Yet, amid rising panic, I took solace in the belief that God was with me in this wilderness, and with that flicker of hope, courage surged within me. As the sun reached its zenith, I stumbled into an endless field filled with sunflowers, their golden heads turned upward, as if a thousand faces were collectively reaching for the heavens in silent prayer. Above, hawks circled with their wings spread wide, gliding gracefully in search of a meal, and I imagined, perhaps in folly, that they called out, “The Lord will assure a meal for us today.” Looking skyward, I too directed my thoughts, pleading for a safe passage through this overwhelming expanse of woods. Eventually, I reached a fork in the road. To my left, the path wound deeper into the heart of the forest; to my right, it meandered toward obscurity. But straight ahead, a great mountain loomed in the distance, a majestic sentinel standing firm—an anchor of hope. With determination in my heart, I chose the path that led directly toward it, never once glancing back at where I had come from. What happened next quickened my heart. I spotted the silhouette of a man not too far ahead—his form indistinct but compelling. My heart raced at the thought that he might not be a figment of my imagination, and I quickened my steps in pursuit. My longing for human contact deepened, driven by a fear of losing the tenuous grasp I had on reality. I followed closely, observing his every move as he steadily made his way toward the mountain, a shared yet mysterious destination drawing us together. As I closed the distance between us, I began to discern his features more clearly. He wore a robe of simple cloth that hung loosely about him, and in his hand, he carried a walking stick, using it to clear the tall grass and thickets that threatened to impede his progress. He lifted his head often, gazing skyward as if caught in a conversation with the divine. But his face remained turned from me, focused intently on the majestic mountain that now loomed larger in our shared journey. I mirrored his rhythm; when he paused, I paused. When he stopped to rest, I rested. My curiosity became a burning flame within me, pushing me to learn more about this enigmatic figure. It was not until night fell, and the full moon rose high, casting silvery beams that illuminated our path, that I began to question the reality of this uncanny episode unfolding in my life. PART II Where he sat, a gentle, almost ethereal light enveloped him, casting a radiant glow that seemed to follow him like a silent guardian on his earthly journey. The night was alive with sounds—the owls called out with their haunting cries, the crickets provided a melodic hum, and fireflies flickered into existence, swirling in a delicate dance that surrounded him. From a distance, I observed this enchanting scene, feelings of hope and trepidation swirling within me, as I realized I was witnessing something profoundly divine and spiritual. He exuded an aura of innocence as if his heart held the tenderness of a mother’s love for her child. There was a softness to his demeanor, a quiet gentleness veiling deeper emotions that lay beneath the surface. Occasionally, a fleeting smile graced his lips, only to be replaced by a heavy sigh that seemed to escape his lungs with the weight of the world. As I continued to watch, tears of luminous light began to stream down his face, and I found myself pondering the depths of pain or affliction that could torment such a saint to the brink of despair. The sight stirred my own emotions, and my eyes, too, began to glisten with unshed tears, moved by his silent suffering. Out of courage, I could scarcely understand, I set aside my fears and approached him, drawn closer to this figure who appeared both angelic and profoundly human, as if he were bestowed with some divine grace. No man I had ever encountered bore such an extraordinary likeness. He slowly lifted his tear-streaked face, shining like a full moon casting its light upon the darkest night, embodying truth and reason. A brief smile flickered across his features, yet there lingered an underlying anger as if he were grappling with an inner tempest. In hopes of soothing his troubled heart, I reached out, desperate to mend what seemed broken within him, but instead, my gesture only deepened his distress. He wept as though his sorrow were boundless, a torrent of grief that had no foreseeable end. My own heart ached in response, and I could no longer restrain my feelings, so I turned to him and inquired with genuine concern, “Why do you weep? What is it that could provoke such anger within you? Are you not among the Chosen and Blessed, having transcended to the heights of the heavens?” He regarded me with a softness in his gaze, and softly he answered, “In this world, mankind exists in a duality—half-awake and half-asleep—perpetually striving to unite with the Whole. They seek only the transient comforts of this earthly realm, forgetting that their authentic purpose lies in laboring for the soul’s eternal expedition, which awaits them beyond this life.” He fell silent for a moment, wiping a tear from his cheek, prompting me to beseech him further, “Oh, wise one, I implore you to share the true significance of this wisdom!” “The day will inevitably come,” he replied in a voice barely above a whisper, “when humankind will awaken to the truths we have long preached. We came forth into this world under the same decree, illuminating paths unknown to them. Yet, some foolishly cling to this fleeting existence, deluding themselves into thinking it will endure forever, that they too will remain forever entwined within it. They will soon realize that their true essence has been lost, and with it, the way forward. As the veil of the world gradually lifts and the shadows of old age encroach upon them, they will finally awaken to the truth that their dreams and aspirations were naught but illusions. From the very dawn of creation, as the earth stood young, mankind has been ensnared within this arid desert of deceit. What benefit does the embrace of this world bestow upon a man? He will find himself ensnared in its intricate web of delusion. The world exists in a continuous state of laughter, yet mankind remains deaf to her concealed enticements. Her paths will only lead to misperceptions, and willingly she guides the ignorant and the fool. Oh, dear friend, this world is merely a school for souls, replete with trials and tribulations, designed solely to instruct the soul for what is to come in the Hereafter.” With desperation, I turned to him once more, “But you are a divine being, favored by the heavens. Why must you bear such burdens? What brings forth these tears?” A deep confusion washed over me, and in my sincerity, I awaited his response with bated breath. He looked at me, his eyes reflecting a depth of sorrow, and in a steady voice replied, “I weep for what mankind has abused, and continues to abuse.” No matter the words of comfort I offered, they fell upon him like feathers upon stone, unheard and unacknowledged. His heart was laden with grief, his mind occupied by concerns that swirled beyond my understanding. He remained downcast, plagued by thought, continuing his silent mutterings. With a profound sigh, he uttered a quiet prayer to himself, then rose, leading the way toward a distant mountain that loomed in the dark landscape. The climb was steep, and as we reached the top, the moon hung low and resplendent, casting a serene glow that seemed almost tangible, as if I could reach out and touch its delicate light. At that moment, an overwhelming sense of yearning washed over me—when would I awaken fully to this truth? On that high mountaintop, we convened, and he sat with his head buried in his hands, fiercely stroking his hair, lost in profound contemplation. Hours seemed to slip away in silence, our words unspoken, our gazes lingering elsewhere. Finally, I broke the stillness and mused, “Look, we can behold the entire village and all its inhabitants below us.” He chuckled softly, shaking his head, and then rose with an intensity that startled me. Gazing skyward in fervent prayer, he then turned his attention downward, casting his eyes upon the village as he called out with all his might, “NO, YOU FOOLS! WHAT I SAID WAS BEHOLD THE GUIDING LIGHT,THE SUN OF GOD HAS RISEN BEFORE ALL OF YOU!”