Old Age: Consoling Hopes

Seeking to deceive myself and sink once more into heedlessness, I turned my thoughts to the pleasures of the high standing I enjoyed in Istanbul—a position far beyond what I deserved. But this availed me nothing. All the appreciation, attention, and consolation I received from people reached only as far as the gate of the grave, where they came to an end.

I saw that honour and fame, which those who hunger for renown pursue as their highest ideal, were in reality nothing but burdensome hypocrisy, cold selfishness, and fleeting intoxication. I understood that these things, which had deceived me until then, could offer me neither light nor consolation.

To awaken fully, I turned once more to the heavenly teachings of the Qur’an and listened again to the huffāz in the Bayezid Mosque. There, from those heavenly teachings and sacred decrees, I heard glad tidings such as:

وَبَشِّرِ الَّذِينَ اٰمَنُوا

Drawing upon the spiritual grace I received from the Qur’an, I no longer sought consolation from outside, but instead sought consolation, hope, and light within the very things that had filled me with fear, desolation, and despair. A hundred thousand thanks be to Allah! For I found the remedy in the very midst of suffering, light in the very depths of darkness, and consolation in the very heart of dread.

First, I looked upon the face of death, which everyone fears and regards as the most terrifying of ends. Through the light of the Qur’an, I saw that although the veil concealing death is dark and ugly, its true face is radiant and beautiful for the believer.

As we have explained this truth in many treatises, including the Eighth Word and the Twentieth Letter, death is neither annihilation nor eternal separation, but the beginning of everlasting life. It is a release from the burdens of worldly life and a passage to another dwelling place. It is a reunion with friends and loved ones who have departed for the ālam-i barzakh.

Thus, I beheld the true and beautiful face of death and looked upon it not with fear, but with longing. I then understood something of the mystery underlying the Sufi practice of contemplating death.

Next, I looked upon my departing youth, which everyone loves and longs to retain, yet whose passing causes them to weep. Beneath its beautiful, adorned garment, I now perceived a confused and ugly face. Had I not come to understand the true nature of youth, its brief pleasures would have left me weeping for a hundred years.

Thus, someone who had experienced this truth said:

لَيْتَ الشَّبَابَ يَعُودُ يَوْمًا فَاُخْبِرَهُ بِمَا فَعَلَ اْلمَشِيبُ

Indeed, elderly people who, like the man who uttered these words, have not understood the true nature of youth recall their younger days and weep with regret and longing.