By the Author / Source: abuaram.site
Since my teenage years, I had been an atheist—and in truth, I was an atheist from childhood. I frequently mocked the teachings of Islam, finding them impossible to accept. I questioned the existence of God and the credibility of the faith, and I never fulfilled any of its rituals, such as prayer or fasting during Ramadan.
However, in the years that followed, I suffered greatly from severe psychological breakdowns, schizophrenia, and a profound disconnection from my beliefs. During those dark times, I felt a deep need for spiritual serenity, faith, and prayer, and I felt my heart guiding me toward the path of Christianity. Today, I listen to various forms of Christian music daily and recite the Lord’s Prayer before sleep to soothe my anxiety and rest peacefully. I have never once considered returning to Islamic prayer, nor do I enjoy listening to the Quran to this day; I feel a total aversion to the idea of drawing near to Islam.
I still do not believe in a specific God bound to any earthly religion, but I do believe that there are dimensions of existence unknown to us—a reality of a God or a higher force that remains undiscovered by humanity and beyond the reach of human study. I do not believe in any deity presented to me by humans, yet I do not deny the potential existence of a hidden power behind our reality; perhaps there is a possibility for its presence.
Moreover, the spiritual state I have experienced for many years—where spirits speak to me and I see their manifestations—has transformed my perspective on many of these matters. It opened my eyes to the realm of the spirit and the afterlife, teaching me that life is not limited to what we can perceive with our senses. There are countless secrets behind our existence, the universe, and the unseen, which leaves room for hope in an existence after death.
These spirits do not care to define themselves to me, nor do they ask me to believe in a specific God or adopt a particular faith. They care for me as I am, interacting with my life in ways that align with my desires and perceptions. These entities possess divine capabilities and boundless energy; they can read minds and thoughts, and they hold the secrets of the entire world, knowing everything that transpires across the globe. They are divine spiritual beings bound by laws that govern their powers, ensuring they commit no evil or reckless acts toward the humans with whom they connect.
In light of what my heart counsels me, and through this spiritual state that was thrust upon me while I was deeply immersed in rationalism, logic, and atheism, my way of thinking and my spiritual needs shifted. I came to realize that human beings require a framework of faith and a form of worship—a spiritual system in their lives. The heart and soul crave spiritual tranquility and specific rituals that impart strength, peace, comfort, and the reassuring sense of being protected and cared for by higher powers. I no longer allow my rational mind to deny me what brings solace to my heart, even if it were not objectively real.
I do not know why I find comfort in Christianity while feeling no peace in Islam, the faith into which I was born. It is as though I harbor a deep aversion to Islam, refusing to let my heart or mind surrender to it or become immersed in it. A rational mind does not extinguish the feelings of the heart or our innate spiritual needs; no matter how robust a person’s intellectual framework may be, the presence of the soul and the self is undeniable in all of us. The spiritual world is real, and the existence of the spirit among us feels abundantly clear. Along this path, we build a meaningful hope in the value of our existence in this life—and perhaps, allow for the possibility that our story does not end with the death of the body.
