On the back cover of the 2017 May-June edition of this magazine we were reminded of the knot that binds us to the tangle we have made of human existence. Releasing the knot, one would contend, requires first an awareness of the nature of the knot, which means knowing what caused the tangle.

We are horribly aware of what is, but hardly aware of why. Your correspondent rather fears to suggest that in respect of human history, and as far as the current terrorists are   concerned, they are not even par for the course. This not an apology and is by no means a suggestion that they are anything less than undesirable, but they do have a long way to go to equal our collective bloody past. You don’t need a list.

It may be reasonable to suggest that frustration is at the root of most human folly. The terrorists are frustrated by their own need to find release from persecution perceived, but more likely a purpose for their lives. It amounts to the adoption of a system, a philosophy, a reason to be. It is often similar, in albeit psychological content, to what we often undertake in the name of “our interests.” Humans are also frustrated by the need for some of us to be rude, as in the appalling attacks of the good name of the Prophet Muhammad, which were used as an excuse to release ingrained frustrations. Should we really be aghast when we end up with a bloody nose after insulting someone? We do not discuss right or wrong because we are confronted by simply what is. Our lack of comprehension when being hit tells of an equal lack of awareness of human decency and that really means our own lack because, after all, you generally get back what you engender. The Hindus call it karma. All right, let’s tell it how it is. “Keep your dirty mouth off me, buddy, or you’re gonna get a smack in the eye.” Thus, however crass, crude or unsophisticated, that is how things stand. We must possibly consider that the human fuse is longer or shorter according to the individual. Even if so inclined, one would perhaps risk an oblique thrust against an educated, worldly wise person, but I will hesitate to walk into a black neighborhood shouting about white supremacy. This by no means supposes that people in a black neighborhood are unsophisticated, but it does suppose common sense, as opposed to being either cowardly or brave, or downright silly. Quite obviously, speaking one’s mind is often far removed from exercising common sense. To be fair, there would seem to be a need for a study about what to do with thoughts that are less than useful. The “freedom to be me” set would protest, but I am suggesting a universal creed, borrowed again from one of the mystics, of being able to do anything you like in this world, as long as you don’t hurt anybody.

Don’t think about it: only God is good.

The peoples of this world have been insulting each other since the beginning of time. Nevertheless, there must be more to the matter. History shows us that most nations have at one time or another been at the top of the pile politically, culturally, and naturally financially. The top nations were then seen to slide right on down again (Rome is the obvious example.) How come? They had it all! It is a common notion to say that wealth brings responsibility with it. But with tons of money available, decadence is a beguiling and easy option. Above all, we are bound to admit that the exhilarating, albeit disastrous, slide down is likely to be made rapid to the extent of a nation’s financial means.

One could also suggest that as far as the terrorists are concerned, they may well be running on a sort of universal “now is my time” program. The wheel of human endeavor has turned – someone has even suggested that there is a noticeable historic cycle in social change – and we are now faced with another bully thrusting to the fore. Please remember that none of the so-called advanced nations have ever succeeded without bullying, usually some other country’s indigenous peoples. This brings about frustration and an arising group urge. First comes the insult perceived, then comes the instinctive, then the planned, fight back.

Please consider that terrorists have, in one guise or another, littered the lives and existence of humans for thousands of years. The name, the cause, the flag under which they kill may have been superficially varied, but the root cause, the why, has always been the same. Humans have an appetite for anger. To be precise, anger is an appetite!

Has anyone ever investigated appetite? The mystics deal with it. The Islamic mystic, Sheikh Jilani, has pinpointed our lower instincts, for which the Arabic word is nafs. Our nafs are not merely our egos, but are somewhat akin to the appetites we attach to our lower impulses. Am I splitting hairs, here? Nevertheless, whether from the Arabic or otherwise, nafs, our lower impulses, are universal one way or another to all of humanity.

The ego is indeed pure until it acquires a less than useful appetite. Our motivating forces (often animal or material in nature) may well be necessary for navigating our daily lives, but there are few among us able to use them under the governance of a human attitude, read God’s guidance. Nevertheless, it may seem to be confusing the issue somewhat to suggest that our lower impulses are also needed to get out of bed in the morning with a purpose. In other words, an ego is little more than a mechanical function that has somehow acquired enormous clout in the minds of humans. The ego is very useful for undertaking work, for getting you to the train on time, for making money, but not for using money for matters of detriment. Such as having a war supported by a war industry. Thus, doing what you truly feel guided to do and nothing else is demonstrably tricky. Your mind will always find a reason for you to indulge in your appetite for sex, drugs and… (ok, let’s keep rock ‘n’ roll), the world, the world. One of the problems arising when discussing ego is that it is loaded with connotation. Everyone will tell you that egoism is bad, but that is not true! It is what you do with your ego that is often out of context. That’s the point, it is the notion of what you do that is of the essence. The big idea, of course, is to keep your self separate from your ego. In other words: my ego, my servant, and not the other way round. Moreover, my mind, my servant, and not the other way round, would suggest relegating the mind to its proper position within the human frame. This perhaps sounds like a good idea, on paper, and one should be able to exercise free will to undertake it. The problem is that not many wills on this earth are actually free. (Ask any parent struggling to put a child through school.) There always appear to be the add-ons, coloration engendered by experience. The Hindu maintains that “…to live life according to experience is the most bitter of ways.” Another mystic has also said that people make most mistakes when feeling happy. That may sound weird, and this writer apologizes for not offering an example. I would need a month on a desert island to figure that one out.

Can we envisage “my mind, my servant”? A mind that serves and does not lead? A humble mind is a rarity, of course. A mind denying its self for most of us would be, well, unthinkable. This writer asks forgiveness for adding sophistry; it is a writer’s test of faith. But it does mean that the true human self should be, but rarely is, separate from a person’s motivating forces. Hence inner conflict.

It has been suggested that to worship God one must make neutral the effects of the heart and the mind. This emptying of worldly influences, which are actually necessary for living in the world, for a period of worship means permitting God to take over. With the heart and mind in neutral, the nafs, our lower motivating forces, are in abeyance. At the finish of worship, the nafs will again thrust to the fore, often with a vengeance. Five times daily in prayer is a constant return to God. Then by the grace of God we may wish to consider the forces within us as they really are. It must be of great value to be able to dissociate ourselves – achieve distance – from our lower forces, get them into focus but not to eradicate them because one may never get off one’s desert island. One may also meditate at lofty Himalayan heights and even “shake” the hand of God, but would be incapable of coming down to the valley where human life goes on.

Our lower motivating forces should be – in fact are – the instruments given at our disposal for work, for undertaking science, for example, for feeding ourselves and our families, thus, for dealing with our worldly responsibilities. Many persons of an ascetic leaning have removed themselves from “the world” in an endeavor to subdue their lower forces. Indeed, Muhammad went to his cave, Jesus went into the desert for forty days and forty nights. Their motivating instinct, however, was submission, for receiving and not conceiving. After all, can we really be wiser than God? These persons then returned to the world to assist the rest of humankind. This writer remembers the story of a Buddhist monk who had received nirvana, after which he returned to the marketplace, the world, to serve humanity. In its simplest form it was all about knowing what makes people suffer, what makes people afraid, what makes people turn to their lower instincts for answers and then makes them fight. The German language offers Existenzangst, which is a good a word as any for describing the root of the human condition.

Jesus returned knowing what makes people be the way they are, Muhammad, too, and he was reported to have cried out in anguish at his knowing. The Buddha came to his realization of what makes people unhappy, which was, of course, desire.

The Islamic tradition leans, quite rightly I believe, on the sciences – the use of the mind to serve for the betterment of human existence. It is not a mystical matter, but it is engendered by a mystical instinct. First the realization, then the serving. Moreover, using the mind to cultivate a garden, harness solar energy, or simply attending to one’s given profession could reasonably be suggested as being God’s preferred way of keeping us out of trouble. Those of theological persuasion may well suggest that one is unable to enter through the gates of heaven through works. This writer would contend, however, that enterprise is not the real meaning of work, or works. It may be reasonable to suggest that anything undertaken through the designs of God has already been blessed, however mundane it may appear. Philosophers, writers in general and those who would delve into higher things are naturally at risk. It is dangerous terrain, often a tightrope walk over a yawning chasm engendered by the heart and the mind, which amounts to the most sophisticated double act to ever enter upon the stage of human endeavor. This writer has also been in the presence of a mystic who once maintained that he had no real knowledge of what he was about to say (lecture notes would be anathema). His inspiration was from above.

Thus, after our daily prayers we return to the world on a hopefully even keel. Our appetites, which, let’s face it, are currently raging around the planet, are for a while governed by a higher force.

It has been suggested – and don’t get me wrong here – that prayer changes nothing. Prayer changes people and people change things. This writer is inclined to equate prayer with a spontaneously arising feeling of hope for betterment in the face of trouble. Thus, to hope for betterment, and not wish to kill, is in itself grace.

The only way to surrender to God, it seems, is to place one’s lower motivating forces in abeyance for a while. But never, ever, try to eradicate them.

This writer finds himself, at long last, reading James Michener’s Iberia. At the beginning of the book Michener tells us about duende (grace recognized) and shibui (aesthetic rightness). Both explanations are approximations. My leaning for such things, my temperament, brought on enthusiasm. The promising beginning was brief, however, and Mr. Michener then takes the reader through 800 pages of small print dealing mostly with the history, art and culture of the Iberian peninsula. Mr. Michener tells us what is or was, but not why.

In her book titled Limitless Mind, Professor Jo Boaler discusses six keys of learning to create opportunities for students, adults, and workers to excel in areas they want to. This article will summarize one of the points in the first key: The Problems of Giftedness. She has conducted sixty-two interviews in six different countries with people from different walks of life. Dr. Boaler developed her “The Limitless Approach” to learning and education. The core principle of this approach is that anybody can learn any subject as long as they think positively about their talents and abilities, and put in a lot of effort and practice.

In her interviews, Dr. Boaler met people that had a wide array of myths and psychological pitfalls that prevented them from accomplishing their goals. The interviewees came from all walks of life and indicated that they gave up studying subjects that they loved including math, science, and English. They believed that they lacked the right mind for these fields, or that they were incapable of learning them, because they struggled in learning them. They also gave up on all math related subjects, such as engineering, science, and technology.

To address these problems, Dr. Boaler had collaborated with brain scientists to learn more about the brain and how we learn in order to help teachers, students, and parents in their subject learning. There is a common misconception among subject fields, especially math, where many children grow up believing that they either are a math person or are not. This is partially due to math anxiety that is widespread in the US and the world. This has become a major hinderance in millions’ mathematics learning. For example, according to one of Dr. Boaler’s studies 48% of young adults working in a work-apprentice program and 50% of students taking introductory math courses (cited in Boaler 2019) have math anxiety. Boaler claims that this might be affecting half of the population.

The idea that people are born with fixed learning abilities is a false misconception and is similar to the misconception that some of society’s highest achievers are successful simply because of their genetics. The idea that our brains are “fixed”, and that we are naturally predisposed to be good or bad at different subjects or activities, is a myth. Research in the last decade has revealed that our brains are incredibly adaptable. Our brains change and reorganize each time we learn something new. These discoveries are all thanks to the research on brain plasticity—neuroplasticity.

Neuroplasticity

Neuroplasticitiy was first discovered in the early 20^th century by Anders Ericsson, a Swedish-born psychologist, and is one of the pioneers who became aware of the brain’s amazing ability to grow and change.

He designed a study to investigate the limits of people’s ability to memorize a random string of digits. He showed that people could improve their ability to memorize with a study that he published in 1929. He chose an average person—Steve—who happened to be an athlete. He started working with the researchers to memorize digits. His performance was average and he memorized seven numbers in the first day. Steve spent four more days to memorize only nine numbers. Although Ericsson and his research team thought he reached his limit, something remarkable happened: Steve continued to improve and then memorized ten numbers. He did not stop and regularly improved until he had successfully memorized eighty-two random digits. He was just an average college student that had unlocked his learning potential to accomplish a very unique challenge.

Later, Ericsson tried the same study with another average college student, Renee. She started better and learned twenty digits without any trainings. Then, she received fifty hours of training but did not improve at all. She eventually quit the study. This intrigued Ericsson and inspired him to find out what caused Steve to succeed and Renee to fail. Ericsson realized that Steve’s love for running had made him more competitive and motivated to succeed. Steve also developed a new strategy each time he struggled memorizing new digits such as grouping numbers into four four-digit strings.

One of the main takeaways from Steve’s example is that it is smart to develop a new strategy or approach when you encounter a roadblock. Dr. Boaler does not say this is easy and explains it by reminding us why so many people fail to make changes in the time of struggles or running into barriers.

Ericsson repeated his experiment one more time to support his claims from the previous studies. He chose another runner named Dario. Dario was more successful than Steve in memorizing numbers. He remembered more than one hundred numbers. This was not because of Dario’s genetics, but instead because he put in lots of effort and hard work. The idea of genetic ability is both incorrect and damaging as we see today in our education systems where fixed-ability thinking controls and designs our children’s education.

Growth and fixed mindsets

Carol Dweck is a professor at Stanford and her research revealed that how we think about our talents has a huge impact on our potential (Dweck 2006). To Dweck, there are two groups of mindsets. The first one is called “growth mindset.” People with this mindset believe that they can learn anything as long as they put in enough effort. The second group has a fixed mindset. People with this mindset believe that their intelligence is more or less fixed and they cannot learn everything. For example, they might believe that they are not a math person so they cannot learn math.

In one of the studies conducted at Columbia University, Dr. Dweck and her colleagues found that stereotyping is still alive and affecting student’s lives. Young female students were given the message that they did not belong in math discipline. Later, they found that this message stuck only with those with a fixed mindset. These people heard the message that math was not for women and they dropped out. However, students with a growth mindset, who believed that anyone can learn anything, remained firm and completed their programs.

We learn a lot of crucial information about the importance of self-beliefs and the role of teachers and parents in influencing students’ lives. But we still receive widespread message containing fixed mindsets and giftedness.

Dr. Boaler underlines the damage of incorrect usage of praises such as “you are smart” or “you are a genius,” coming from parents or others who regularly praise their children by telling them how smart they are in order to build up their self-confidence. Children that only rely on their genius and are not truly taught the value of hard work may face severe obstacles in life later on if they start struggling. Instead, Boaler recommends us to use some alternatives such as, “You can divide fractions? That is great that you have learned how to do that, you must have worked really hard.”

The downside of gifted & talented program in schools

Fixed-brain mindsets have consequences on the vast majority of the population but can also negatively harm society’s most intelligent children, most of which are often labeled as “gifted”. Dr. Boaler explored its negative effects with a film she produced with her youcubed.org team including Sophie Constantinou from Citizen Film. She recruited twelve Stanford students who had the experiences of being labeled as “gifted.” The students were asked to reflect upon their experiences of the labeling. They all gave the same message—they received some advantages but at some costs. They felt the pressure of the label all the time such that they could not ask any questions when they struggled understanding a topic. The students indicated that they had to hide any challenges in order people not to think they do not have a gift. One of the students summarized the burden that came with their gifted labeling as, “If I grew up in a world where no one was labeled as gifted then I would have asked a lot more questions.”

The purpose of classifying some students as gifted is to ensure that high-ability kids are challenged with rigorous and accelerated programs in regular classroom settings. But the problem with this idea is that believing some students are worthy of this program because they have a fixed gift-like present that they had been given as Dr. Boaler points out. Although these students might need special challenging programs, ignoring the rest is not a solution as Dr. Boaler puts it, “the message is that some people are born with something that others cannot achieve” (p. 40).

Another downside of this labeling for the students in Dr. Boaler’s study is that they are not expected to struggle, and when they do it becomes devastating for them. Dr. Boaler shares one of her student’s experiences when she was teaching about research on brain growth and the damage of fixed labels. Her student, Susannah, started talking about her experience of being a gifted student. She had been told frequently that she had a math brain and was very smart. This led her to enroll a math program at UCLA, but things did not go as they were expected to. Susannah took a challenging course in the second year of the program and struggled. She felt that she was not a math person or did not have a math brain after all and ended up dropping out of the program. Unfortunately, Susannah did not know that struggle is a very basic and necessary process for brain growth which could grow the neural pathways she needed to learn more mathematics. If she had known that, Susannah might not had quit and could have graduated with a math major. This is a very real “fixed-ability” scenario that happens every day.

Dr. Boaler does not claim that everyone is born the same. Although everyone has a unique brain at birth, and there are differences between people’s brains, people can change their brain in many ways in terms of achieving things. The proportion of people born with brains so exceptional is literally tiny—less than 0.001 percent of the population. To the contrary of the common belief, Dr. Boaler says, “there is not such thing as a math brain, writing brain, artistic brain, or musical brain” (p 42). That is, we all have to develop the brain pathways to be successful because we all have the potential to learn and achieve at the highest levels as long as we believe that we can succeed and that we are willing to work hard.

Anders Ericsson has studied IQ and hard work for decades and found that people like Einstein, Mozart, Newton and many others are made to be, not born, genius, and their achievements come from extraordinary hard work. This reflects a reality of human condition that “human has only that for which he or she labors” (Qur’an 53:39). Therefore, we need to communicate to all students that they are in a world where growing or evolving is part of everyday life and nothing is fixed about them including gift and/or disability.

In conclusion, the first step towards having a limitless and unlocked life is to know that our brains are given the capacity to constantly reorganize, grow, and change. We need to remember that we are waking up with a changed brain every morning. Our brains are created to make new connections all the time and strengthen older pathways. Once we understand the adaptability of our brains we will start to open our minds and live differently. Then we will not worry about any categorizations we go through at school or work because we know that we have a great growth mindset with which we are enabled to achieve anything we put our minds toward.

References

• Boaler, J. (2019). Limitless mind: Learn, lead, and live without barriers. Harper Collings Publishers.
• Dweck, D. S. (2006). Mindset: The new psychology of success. Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

Advertising is an age-old concept of conveying the messages to the people. In prehistoric days, people used to write with chalk, which was available in plenty, in their own languages the messages they wanted to propagate on the walls of the caves or on tree trunks. While doing excavations in Pompeii, signs and evidence were found that services and goods were advertised as early as in 79 A.D.

Later, Egyptians wrote the messages and drew images on papyrus. When paper and printing press were invented, advertising became popular, first in Great Britain, then in other countries. Illustrated ads were placed in newspapers and magazines. Products like Pears soap, Woodbury’s Facial soap, Michelin Tires and Encyclopedia Britannica were among the first to advertise. Advertising companies like J. Walter Thomson, Ogilvy, Leo Burnett, Volney Palmer and N.W. Ayer were among the pioneers, responsible for creating ads and getting them placed in newspapers and magazines. J. Walter Thomson was however the first to expand internationally.

Today, we live in the world of advertising. Nothing sells without advertising; may it be a product or service. It is a well-known fact that you need to create an awareness of the product you want to sale, then promote it through means of advertising; hence the importance of advertising cannot be denied. That is why ad agencies are flourishing and their clients are spending millions of dollars to promote their products or services. Ads should be clever and to the point. Yet, many advertisers rely on belittling the competitors’ products which results in a big confusion in the minds of consumers.

David Ogilvy, the guru of advertising, said that ‘a good advertisement is one which sells the product without drawing the attention to itself.’. One wonders how many ads these days conform to this belief. The Chief Executive of one the agencies where I used to work way back in Pakistan had a motto framed behind his desk. It read: Advertising is supposed to be impactful and clever without being overpowering. In short, be subtle.

There are various outlets where the ads are placed. Generally, your product is promoted through TV, Radio and social media, newspapers and magazines, billboards and brochures and your product gets consumers’ awareness and impulse to buy. This is the common practice, yet there is another means to advertise. It is called subliminal advertising, and it has been found that this means alone can soar the sale of your product. Only few clients and advertisers know and realize the positive effect such advertising would produce. Others simply do not believe in its efficacy and consider it a fallacy.

Subliminal Advertising

Subliminal advertising is described as the use of images, logos and sounds to influence consumers’ responses without being conscious of it. A subliminal message passes below the normal perception. It might be inaudible to the conscious mind, but audible to the subconscious mind, because it is a brief flash of the product, escaping the conscious level of mind but getting stored in the subconscious mind, so that when a consumer goes to the market and sees the product along with other products, he is inclined to buy the product subliminally advertised.  They are ‘hidden persuaders’ – as said by Vance Packard in his book,’ Hidden Persuaders’ which was published in 1957. There are various ways to do it:

Single Frame Effect

This was often practiced in the days when movies were processed by 35 mm cameras. It involves the insertion of ‘hidden’ messages into movies or TV programs. The concept ‘moving pictures’ relies on persistence of vision to create movement in a series of images projected at 25 frames per second. A single frame of the ad is then inserted after every 25 frames on the editing table. The hidden command in a single frame flashes across the screen so quickly that it is not perceived consciously but is registered in the subconscious mind.

As mentioned in QUORA journal, an experiment was conducted by James Vicari, a marketing researcher and psychologist, in 1957 when a popular movie PICNIC was released. Every five seconds the words, Hungry? Eat popcorns. Drink Coca-Cola, were projected for 0.003 seconds. The sales of popcorn and Coke in that New Jersey theater increased by 57.8 percent and 18.1 percent respectively.  

In the early seventies, we, at an advertising agency where I worked, made a similar experiment. In the cinema house where one of our client’s products was advertised subliminally through the screening of the movie, I stood near a concession stand. During the interval – in those days we had intervals of 10 to 15 minutes – a good number of moviegoers were seen to buy that soft drink.

You may think that this is a very easy and economical way of advertising. No, it is not. It took a series of meetings with the client to convince him about this method of promotion. The client eventually agreed, but still seemed doubtful. Then we had to approach the movie producer who was shooting a blockbuster movie with famous stars. After being assured that it would not make any difference in projection, and paying him the agreed amount, he consented. When the movie was shot and ready for editing, I went to see the editor to get the frames of our product inserted after every 25 frames of the movie. The editor simply shook his head and said that it was just an experience in futility, but he had to do it, because the producer asked him to do that. It took him two weeks to complete the editing. I met him again and saw that the one frame of the product was inserted after every 25 seconds in the master print of the movie. I was happy to learn that and took the editor, who had by now become a good friend, for a lunch at a Chinese restaurant on my expense account.

The client later reported that the sale of his soft drink had increased by thirty-five per cent.

This form of subliminal advertising was gaining grounds and proving to be an effective vehicle for promoting products. This became a matter of concern for public relations officials and some advertising agencies, probably because they feared that budgets for regular advertising on TV and press would plummet, resulting in lesser profit. They argued that such a way of promotion is ineffective, counter-productive and unethical since it invaded the minds of the people without their consent. The other school of thoughts pleaded that it is not the only way that does that, there are many happenings in everyday life that do so, and on which we do not have any control.

In USA, Federal Communications Commission took up the matter, held several hearings and declared that subliminal advertising is contrary to public interest, because it involved ‘intentional deception’.

Terry Lane in CHRON journal reported, ‘While the US Congress has never passed a law restricting subliminal advertising, government agencies have said that the practice is unfair and could result in enforcements, especially for broadcast stations.’

Since then this form of advertising gradually decreased. It may still be in existence, but countries like Australia, U.K. and Canada have banned it. Other forms of subliminal advertising, like product-placement and hidden messages through logos are very much in practice throughout the world.

Product placement

A highly popular technique is product placement. Here again you need a movie producer or a TV show producer. Subject to his consent and agreed payment, a can or a box of food products such as cereal, jam, jelly, butter or a soft drink is strategically placed on a dining table – or any other place – at a home. When the scene of a family dinner is shot, the product is placed on the table in such a manner that it is quite visible. It is flashed for only a few seconds, and the message is delivered.

Products or services are also promoted when a character drives a car and it passes through a street where there is a billboard or a store front where it is displayed. The camera briefly focuses on it while the car is passing by.

An unethical and detrimental trend is now prevalent in our movies and TV dramas and shows. The hero or another important character is shown smoking a cigarette or a cigar leisurely and enjoying the puffs, while at the bottom of the screen you read a sign ‘smoking is injurious to health’. This is a subliminal advertising for tobacco smoking, and one is sure that some tobacco companies must be paying the producers or channels to promote this habit among viewers, especially youngsters. The tobacco companies have to rely on such a means for advertising, because they are not allowed to advertise directly through electronic or print media or through billboards. Authorities should take note of this and take proper action to stop such a practice.

Meaning of logos

Logo is an intelligent way of subliminal advertising. Let us look at some logos:

• amazon.com. Did you find a hidden message? Observe carefully. There is a curved line connecting a and z, meaning that everything from A to Z is available on this online store.
• Logo of FedEx shows an arrow in white space, an indication of the company’s speed and ability to deliver.
• In the current TOSTITOS logo, can you see two friends sharing chips and salsa?
• In the SONY VAIO logo, the design of the word Vaio shows the symbol of analogue and digital that defines the two worlds in which the brand works.

The worst thing about cancer they don’t tell you?

The aftermath. The shock waves.

It’s surviving the quick earthquake, only to find yourself dodging falling objects and electrical lines for the next few days.

What they failed to mention was that fighting cancer was the easy part.

The real battle was learning to live again.

I got the news of my cancer diagnosis as a young mother, and after we had moved to a new city with no close friends or family. The kids were 3, 6, 11, and 13. Summer break had just begun, and to make things worse, I could not drive. We were in the wilderness and were fighting for our lives.

We went into “survival mode,” literally and figuratively, and assigned each older child to a smaller child with the plan and knowledge that we could survive if each of the “bigs” both did a load of laundry and dishes a day. At one point, I had a goal to drop off the kids at school, so I could get three uninterrupted hours of sleep after my chemo treatment. I had finally dropped off the children at their three different schools, and my head had barely hit the pillow, when I received a phone call from the school.

“Mrs. Estes? You need to come pick up your children. They all have lice!”

Trials, temptations, disease, and now pestilence were hitting our household simultaneously. I remember thinking, “At least I can’t get it since my hair is gone,” and then laughed at the absurdity that we were so low that my “silver lining statement” included the phrase “Praise the Lord I’m bald.”

But that was not the hardest part. Not by a long shot.

The hardest part was after the storm, when the casseroles stopped coming and prayers had grown weary. The hardest part of fighting a deadly battle comes afterwards when the dust has settled and the gunsmoke has cleared and you find yourself standing in total rubble and destruction.

I shouldn’t say total. We had our health and were still married. Most do not escape with that, I learned. But we both were battered and bloodied. I had a visual representation come to mind of an old battleship slowly pulling into port – disfigured and worn, riddled with bullet holes and laden with shrapnel. We were afloat, but barely.

I awoke from my six-month drunken chemo state to find my life in ruins. While the “bigs” had done a wonderful job helping with the “littles,” there were still unmet needs and unspoken questions that the youngest mind’s lips couldn’t form, which resulted in one regressing into wetting his pants again in first grade and the other becoming a hair’s breath away from becoming non-verbal, screaming “Aaaaaa!” fifty times a day. All of this in addition to the “regular” stresses of having four children about to enter high school, middle school, kindergarten and first grade – and not to mention the emotional withdrawal that naturally comes in a marriage during crisis times and having a son with extreme learning disabilities.

At one point, I was finally able to lift my leg again, and I was able to climb the stairs to our second story – after a year. When I entered the playroom, the scene rivaled the ruins of a never-ending frat party, with beer bottles exchanged for sippy cups and ankle-deep trash covering the floor. It was a sign of what the kids had silently felt during our ordeal, and it served as a visual symbol of my life: ruined and messy.

In World War II, my grandfather was part of the company that liberated prisoner of war camps. At one point, he asked one of the prisoners what the difference was between those that made it out and those that did not.

“The ones that made it found something to look forward to – they had a goal,” he replied.

I took that advice and decided that when all the chemo and radiation was over, I would celebrate with the other cancer fighters I’d met while walking through the fire.

None of them made it. It was heartbreaking.

I “made do” by celebrating with all the friends and family who had prayed and supported us through the journey, but the weight was still felt. In addition to feeling thankful, I also shouldered the burden of false guilt from having survived when my other comrades had fought just as hard, sometimes harder. Soldier syndrome had come home to roost.

So, what do you do when you get through the war only to (symbolically) return to your home to find the farm overrun with thorns and that your wife has run off?

You start from scratch. And you begin with baby steps.

God was gracious, providing me with advice from an “older brother” in the church just when I needed it. He himself had come out of a near death, eight-day coma experience. He emerged paralyzed on one side, but no one would ever guess it today. The first thing he advised when I called him in tears was, “small goals, baby steps, little sister!”

When coming through tragedy, we want our life to be like it was “before,” but the “after” contains components the “before” never had. It is an “apples to oranges” comparison and is unfair to expect them to be the same. Life “after cancer” contains side effects such as “less energy” and “Chemo Brain” that affect what and how much can be done for a while. Just as I couldn’t expect to instantly run three miles again, nor should I have expected to jump instantly back into life, either. The girl who used to pay all the bills, pop dinner into the oven, and get all four kids ready for school before breakfast was now merely able to pay the bills by the end of the day. But that was okay, because that was enough.

Second piece of advice: good enough is good enough. Lower your expectations. Gone were the days of thinking “everything has a place, and everything should be in its place.” Life was still, even now, about survival. Gone were the days of a pristine home ready for entertainment at a moment’s notice; the day of “push aside the mess and have a seat” had come. And that is okay. Because, again, you are now living in a different reality. The good news? There is no fairy that is going to come grade you on how tidy or organized your home is. Your home is there to serve you, not the other way around. Feel free to live as such.

In addition, it is imperative to “accept the new reality” and “don’t look back.” At one point in the recovery process, I placed blinder goggles and a bottle of salt beside my bed to remind myself, “Don’t look back, lest you turn to a pillar of salt!” (like Lot’s wife). I was amazed at how many Bible verses there actually were with the theme of “pressing on” and “not looking back.” The message was clear: the past is the past, and the present is the present. Make sure to live in the right one. Thinking back to how things used to be and trying to make your world look now like it did back then is a guaranteed, instant trip to Insanity Land. Accept that now will not look like then, nor is it supposed to. Celebrate every “new” baby step and make recovery a big ol’ party!

One of the hardest pieces of advice to follow is: try to humble yourself. As a natural giver, this concept was the most difficult for me until a friend helped me realize that life is not all about me, and if I do not ask for help, then I am literally robbing givers of the chance to use their spiritual gift to give. Ecclesiastes makes it clear that life is divided into seasons, and this is perhaps your season to be a receiver. Accept it as you would a blessing for it will bless others as they minister to you.

A final word of advice on the journey of learning to live again: have a creative outlet and take time to feed your soul. Anything from songwriting, to painting, to simply coloring will help balm your weary mind as you learn to do things anew again. For me, I finally completed my novel, began songwriting, and never missed a sunset at our local park for three months straight. Learning to live again is like learning to walk again – hard and tiring. You must make the time to restore and renew your mind, spirit, and soul.

Of course, this all goes with the understanding that we are constantly praying and praising God for every single blessing He brings our way. It can be big things, like climbing stairs again – or small things, like hearing the song of a robin or seeing a butterfly. Whatever the size of the blessing that comes your way that day, praise God for it! And remember: like the butterfly in the cocoon, this season, too, is temporary and will pass.

Serge and I were buddies. Our interests were largely similar. We were both interested in Oriental mysticism, travel literature, art, architecture, and ceramics. 

“The mystical part about making pots is whether you are in a good state when you make them, or anything else. Trying to achieve a good state by throwing pots as a therapeutic undertaking must be difficult. No, the state comes first and everything else follows,” I suggested.

“Sounds rather obvious,” Serge said.

“That’s the trouble, really. We expect our jobs, our hobbies and everything else we do, to give us peace. Of course, we must do our work with our minds, but the mind had better be in abeyance or you have no chance of creating anything worthwhile.”

“But artistic aspirations…?”

“I like basic aesthetics. Slender pots appeal to me more than fat ones. A fairly minimalist approach is evident. A traditional Japanese house delights me. I too, of course, wish to be empty.”

“How about architecture?” he asked.

“It is about form, which by necessity is governed by function. I greatly admire architects and I can feel their dilemma when attempting to combine form and function. The great architects give us spaces that are comfortable for our interior worlds. “

“But empty…?” Serge prodded.

“I suppose I mean the ability, the luck or grace to receive vision. I am convinced that any artistic endeavor begins with an inner vision. A quiet mind is almost a prerequisite. Then comes the work of getting stuff made, which I contend is the job of the mind. I once read that Mozart claimed to have seen music floating before him; he then had the task of getting it all down as sheet music.”

“So you equate throwing pots with a mechanical process,” Serge said.

I explained: “One obviously must learn the mechanics. I spent a year at art school learning how to throw in series. I was fanatical and everyone said I was crazy because I never fired anything. I once worked on a Greek island and was made aware of Greek potters who have little or no artistic ambition. They see working with clay in the same way that a mechanic works on a car. I heard about one potter in Athens whose wheel head never stops turning. Balls of clay are usually weighed to make certain pots and one then places the ball on a stationary wheel head, gets the thing turning, throws the pot, stops the wheel and cuts off the pot to be placed on a board. The man in Athens simply grabs a chunk of clay of about the right weight, whacks it on to a running wheel head, centers and throws the pot and cuts it off and removes it while the wheel head is in motion. He does that all day long, hour after hour.”

“Wasn’t it the Bauhaus people who spoke about a machine for living?”

“Sure,” I said. “But for them function was an aim. The rest was a philosophy of de-cluttering. Décor art also has a function, I hope, because it can get people forgetting themselves, if only momentarily, which I believe is the best way to experience pleasure.”

“What do you mean by forgetting yourself to experience pleasure?”

“It is quite clear – and many doctors and psychologists agree – that the activity of the mind can be repressive. Mental activity is seldom conducive to healing if taken to an extreme. A patient’s first thoughts are naturally the stuff of concern and the need to seek help! If the patient can surrender his or her condition completely to the expertise of the doctor, the doctor’s task is simplified because the patient’s mind does not meddle with the doctor’s work. More important, the mind is placed in abeyance and permits, or releases, the flow of a natural healing process.”

Serge was confused. “But how does creativity come into it?” he asked.

“One could say that any flow of natural energy, meaning not mind-induced, could be pleasurable. But it is not simply a question of absolute faith in a doctor because the mind in this very complex world has often formed what in German is known as an Eigendynamic, a life of its own, which means that the mind could take control of a person’s life and becomes a personal, overriding function. That which should be a person’s servant has then reversed the roles.

“Most people find a feeling of equanimity in a state of passive focus. I once attended a concert featuring Ella Fitzgerald and a jazz trio. The lady was in such fine form that within a few minutes she had captured the attention, the hearts, and the minds, of the entire audience, thus giving them a release from self. The feeling of euphoria was utterly palpable. Any great artist can give this grace to people. To look at a Rembrandt, at least for the first time, can be stunning – meaning, the mind is stunned. Bach, Beethoven, Mozart, and many more, were capable of offering such grace. I would suggest that truly great artists are themselves in a state of mind abeyance, as mentioned above, when creating their pictures, sculpture, music, literature, and architecture. Great artists ‘receive’ rather than ‘conceive’ their works.

“We are encouraged to be selfless, to simply let go of the thoughts that constantly bug us and turn to what we instinctively know to be true. True art, design, architecture, and hopefully ceramics, can therefore not only be pleasing but also beneficial.”

“Is humankind sick?” he asked.

“Not at all but there does appear to be a widespread feeling of dissatisfaction as we travel down our days. We have little repose. You might say we don’t give ourselves a chance to be truly happy. Was it Krishnamurti who said that there is only one thing between you and God: you. Get out of the way.”

“So you think a mystical approach would be useful?”

“I really do believe that, but, naturally, one would need the time to get quiet. Having a family, a job, earning a living and all the rest is hardly conducive to achieving equanimity from the outset. I can now make ceramics at my leisure but I admire those creative people who are able to achieve great work within the hustle of daily life, especially the young ones.”

“Looking at the pictures, there seems to be an ‘Asian’ approach to your ceramics.”

I said: “The master-potter, Bernard Leach went to Asia to learn about ceramics. He returned to England in 1920 and brought the Japanese master, Shoji Hamada, with him. Hamada and Leach showed us the possibility of selfless pottery making. They constructed and fired a wood-burning kiln, which, opposed to the radiant heat of an electric kiln, brings out the inherent qualities of the clay beneath a glaze. This is achieved by reducing the air intake at a critical point during firing because, obviously, a naked flame requires oxygen to keep burning. Thus the flame starved of oxygen seeks oxygen in the glazes and the clay. The result is buttery textures and some marvelous hues. I have a potter friend, however, who studied with Leach and he said it took years to escape from his influence.”

“But what of selfless pottery?”

“Again, it is the state of having one’s mind in abeyance. Leach maintained that if six potters were to each make a simple tea bowl and one of the potters was in a quiet state the result would be noticeable. In fact, he said that eight out of ten observers would instinctively choose that one bowl.”

“This would seem to imply meditation,” Serge said.

“I have nothing against meditation, but I never did it.”

“So what is your approach?”

“I do nothing really special: just get quiet, relax, begin, and watch what happens. I’m sure many others are happy with the way they operate.”

“Is there a learning process, in all this?”

I told him, “It’s like learning to drive a car, which is initially undertaken as a mental process. Beginners tend to be nervous. Gear changes get snarled, the rear-view mirror is largely forgotten, and so on. The mechanical learning process gradually becomes internalized and a natural flow takes over. Gear changes and all of the other skills become automatic. When this has occurred the mind is set free to concentrate, although focus would be a better word, on what is coming at you on the road.”

“So how did you learn?”

“It may sound far-fetched but one might say that the hands learned what to do. There is a marvelous video on YouTube showing the jazz guitarist Stanley Jordan playing a number (Jumpin’ Jack). Jordan has the ability to play melody and bass simultaneously, somewhat in the way a pianist plays. Deep into his solo one sees Jordan looking down at his hands and there is a smile on his face that seems to say ‘…hey, you guys are really having a good time.’”

“Oh come on, jazz and a quiet mind?”

“Jazz means improvisation engendered by freedom. The freedom from self, conflict, and anything else that hinders creativity.”

“Of course it would be impertinent to speak for other artists but I love the idea of what the Japanese call Shibui. It is a feeling engendered by quiet reticence, something that gives pleasure for reasons beyond explanation. I suppose it means a special rightness about something. Since I am not a Mozart, I do not expect to stun or startle with my work. I am satisfied if a bit of Shibui arises through a combination of shapes and glazes.”

“Talking about shapes…” Serge said.

“As I said before I prefer slender pots; pots that narrow down to a small foot. This gives the pot an appearance of floating – is soaring too presumptuous? My bowls usually have a turned foot. It gives them a lightness that I find pleasing.”

“Have you not been copying the painter Giorgio Morandi with his still-life renderings of ceramic vessels, especially the fluted bottles or those with cut sides?”

“I had never heard of the man before you mentioned him,” I told my friend. “But Morandi does appeal. Thanks for introducing me to his work.”

“The glazes are obviously an enhancement!”

“True but there is a lot of science involved. I fire with an electric kiln because it was given to me as a gift. We are too strapped for cash to buy a preferred gas or wood-burning kiln. My glazes have therefore been things to overcome rather than just use.”

“Build your own kiln!”

“I would love to but for the time being I am where I am at. The electric kiln I use is not particularly large, 60x75x50 centimeters inside, and it does have its eccentricities. All potters have this problem and have adjusted their glaze recipes and firing cycles accordingly. After several test firings, I have been lucky to achieve a good off-white, a really luscious chocolate black, a rather startling blue, a gorgeous dark green thinning to brown on the edges. I also have a nice pale green, which is supposed to be a celadon, but never really came out that way. I am still looking for a classic Chinese tenmoku glaze that fires at 1250°. It is a wonderful black breaking to brown on thin edges.”

“Your glaze application sometimes seems somewhat free-form,” Serge said. “What is behind that?”

“Well, if you have ever tried to draw an arc or a circle you will see the distinct wobble of the line because of an unsure hand. Just swish the pencil around on the paper and the result is likely to be much more graceful. You may not achieve a perfect circle but the result will be more pleasing to the eye. Lord knows how Giotto did a perfect circle in the thirteenth century. Splash glazing is a sort of just do it endeavor. There is no foresight involved, I dribble a glaze on to a pot and…”

“Watch what happens?”

“Right,” I said. “It is again the idea of not really putting one’s mind into a thing. Otherwise I dip my pots into a bucket of glaze in the usual way. Of course, large vessels must have a glaze poured over them, but it is still uncontrolled.”

“Clay?”

“The stoneware clay I use has been great help in achieving texture, although it is not very easy to throw. I mix two clays, with and without grog. The clay is speckled with pyrite and it looks good on the unglazed parts of a pot. The pyrite also shows through the glazes, especially in the off-white.”

“There seems to be lifestyle aspect in what you do.”

“I got around to it a bit late but consider myself lucky. We have a nice old house and a small pottery room. The garden is up and running. My marriage seems to be good, although I am definitely not going to ask her opinion about that. How you live, where you live, and what you do are largely a matter of circumstance for most people. An organized human environment is rather required.”

“Do you remember us talking about Francesco Patrizi, the author of many works of philosophy and the arts?”

“That’s right. He was looking for perfection of a sort,” I said.

“Patrizi wrote a book tantalizingly called The Happy Town. The work is Utopian and an attempt to counter Thomas More’s notion of separating church and state. Patrizi proposed the integration of both. He was born into the nobility in Croatia in 1529 and had the time and inclination to consider the improvement of the world around him. La città felice was written in 1551 in Padua and was printed in Venice in 1553, when Patrizi was only 22 years old. His book proposes a topographical situation that is obviously seen as the Croatian town of Cres in its deep, protective bay, and is about achieving an ideal state. We are confronted with a man who wished to create order, but it was order-imposed. His architectural notions encompassed ‘…straight streets to enhance winds in the hot season’ and ‘…streets meandering like a river to divert winds in the winter months.’ There were to be squares and institutional buildings for commerce, but his main thrust was the stuff of social order. Fabrizi proposed two social groups, the nobility, composed of soldiers and the priesthood, and workers and peasants forming a second group. This second group in The Happy Town were not actually meant to be happy but were only to serve and ‘…not to attain a state of bliss.’”

“Ho hum for Fabrizi. Thomas More was really a humanist, someone who cared.”

“Exactly!” Serge said. “Patrizi was an architect who wished to tell people what is good for them. One debatable point about art could be about what it does to people. Should art bring people to quiet reflection – bliss would be an exaggeration in my case – or should it provoke? Personally, getting people all riled up doesn’t make sense to me.”

“So what is the message?”

“Not offending anyone’s sensibilities, which means offering stuff that calms rather than antagonizes.”

“Your method…?”

“Get quiet, relax, begin.”   

“And watch what happens?”

“That’s about it.”

Is it why we cannot attain maximum mental performance?

If you are one of those people who are unsatisfied with their foreign language competence after many years of hard work, practice, and exposure, then this article may be for you. Even though research in foreign language learning enumerates several factors for foreign language failure – social, psychological, cognitive and affective – whose roles cannot be overlooked, my own view is somewhat different: I firmly believe that one of the main reasons why so many people cannot attain maximum performance, not only in foreign languages but also in other subjects, is largely because of “mental pollution.” This is why, I think, children are superior to adults at learning foreign languages, for they are devoid of severe mental pollution.

Let me first clarify what I mean by “mental pollution.” Certain images of different sizes, qualities, and shapes displayed on billboards, shop windows, posters, brochures, magazines, ads, TV, movies, videos, websites – these are mental pollution. Depending on their form and characteristic, they may greatly abuse a person’s mental energy and lead to chaotic and disturbing emotions. The more irrelevant, enticing, or lustful images are, the more detrimental they are to our social and academic life. For example, a small logo of a computer game – perhaps the size of a 5 cent coin – such as the dragon from Mortal Kombat, contains at minimum three kilobytes (3072 characters), which is equal to about 400 English words. Despite the premise that we only use 8-10 percent of our mental capacity, the amount of visual data the human brain is permanently exposed to cannot be underestimated when so many people, especially children, watch TV, play computer games, and surf the internet. Obscene pictures, in particular, are a common form of mental pollution nowadays, and they are some of the most deleterious to the human mind; they drastically increase blood pressure and heart rate and thus weaken the memory. As an example, a study by Brad J. Bushman has apparently revealed that watching violent television programs has adverse effects on one’s ability to remember.

Fethullah Gülen, a renowned modern Islamic intellectual, reminds us of the seriousness of the topic, while more people than ever before complain about forgetfulness and memory weakness. According to Gülen, the process of learning now takes longer than in the past, and forgetfulness, like an infection, has become prevalent among all levels of society due to polluted minds teeming with irrelevant information. He also points out that long ago people complained when they were not able to memorize and recite by heart a page after only one reading. In this day and age, people complain about weak memory and confess that they have great difficulty memorizing a short text that they have read more than 20 times. For a keen memory, his message to the present generation is to stay away from useless routines, frivolous conversations, irrelevant knowledge, and sources of obscenity.

Similar to a computer, the untrained human mind whose protection filter is set to a low level is under constant visual attack. Given this, mental pollution acts like a computer virus, a code that replicates by copying itself to another program, document, or e-mail, thereby seriously slowing down memory operations. Also, it can erase data or damage the computer’s hard disk, which is analogous to long-term memory in the human brain. Interestingly enough, lab experiments on rats have revealed that these animals simply choose to starve to death when they are tempted by brain reward-stimulus circuits in quests for neuro-orgasms. These rats rarely attain balanced brain chemistry, while the orgasm they experience results in a hangover that lasts for weeks. The same condition is also true for the human mind: the unnecessary over-discharge of hormones triggered by electrifying visual stimuli can lead to long-lasting forgetfulness, fatigue, and serious concentration problems. In such a case, a person cannot make sense of whatever he is studying until the side effects of mental pollution are over.

Foreign language learning also substantially suffers from the harmful effects of copious amounts of mental pollution. The modern methodology and technology to facilitate foreign language learning can be hampered by overwhelming exposure to mental pollution. Although they did not have the contemporary language learning resources and facilities, many early scholars and polyglots managed to learn numerous foreign languages. For instance, Guiseppe Caspar Mezzofanti, an Italian cardinal and famed linguist, is believed to have spoken 38 languages and 50 dialects fluently. Similarly, Sir John Bowring (100), Emil Krebs (68), Ziad Youssef Fazah (56), Ali Ufki (16), Muhammad Hamidullah (22), Pamulaparthi Venkata Narasimha Rao (13), Jose Rizal (22), and Sir Richard Francis Burton (29) were able to speak and read in many languages and dialects, as shown in parentheses, and their success is considerably astonishing when we compare them to present academics who have problems at mastering only one foreign language despite the available modern resources. I believe that these past scholars and polyglots, besides their talent and enthusiasm, did not suffer from widespread mental pollution as we do today. For example, the polyglot Mezzofanti was a prodigy in languages mostly because he spent his life in a monastery and therefore was not subject to any form of mental pollution that could preoccupy his mind and weaken his memory.

I am greatly convinced that an oft-overlooked but very serious barrier – mental pollution – which is very common among people, is a crucial reason for many people’s failure to learn a foreign language, among other subjects. In any discipline (academic or non-academic) where memory involvement is important, it is necessary to be aware of mental pollution. As long as we are unable to control our contact with mental pollution, learning new material will be very difficult and time-consuming, no matter how hard we try, and forgetfulness will continue to be unavoidable.

It was a blustery February morning, and just a few days before my 40^th birthday, when my cell phone rang. I thought perhaps it was someone offering me early well wishes. But it was my mom, calling with news that would forever alter the course of my life.

“Hi, Mom,” I said as I sat down. “How are you?”
“Not good,” she whispered like a frightened child sharing a dark secret. “You know I’ve been feeling really down lately.”

“Yeah,” I said softly, matching her breathy tone.

She was talking so quietly that I cupped my hand over my left ear so I could hear her.
“I just swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills,” she blurted out.

My eyes widened as I sprung to my feet, nearly tripping over my toddler.

“A bunch? Like, how many?” I asked.

“I dunno,” she replied. “A lot.”

I raced to the kitchen, my hands trembling as I fumbled to dial 911 from the landline while trying to keep Mom talking to me on my cell.

A few moments later, I told her that the paramedics were on their way. She mumbled something incoherent. I could already feel her drifting away.

“Can you hear me?”

Numbing silence filled the line. Desperate to keep her awake, I continued talking, my voice growing louder each time I spoke.

“Are you still with me? Mom? Mom!”

Sensing the intensity to my tone, my 8-year-old son asked what was wrong. I wanted to comfort him, but I had to keep focused on Mom. Meanwhile, my toddler, who had only just realized his grandmother was on the phone, threw his goldfish crackers to the floor and pleaded to speak with her. He reached for the receiver with his tiny, cheddar-stained hands and shrieked, “I talk to Ga-ma!”

“Not now,” I said gently.

Both my boys burst into tears as my mind raced with worry. I paced the floor and repeatedly asked, “Are you still there, Mom? Keep talking to me.”

But I only heard a hint of monosyllabic mumbles, then a thud.

I stopped for a moment and stood beside the sliding glass door, shifting my weight from my right leg to my left as I stared out at the falling snow. I kept my eyes fixed on a specific tree branch in an effort to still my mind even as my restless stomach churned.

The wind whipped wildly, which made the snowflakes look as if they were engaged in a vicious game of tug-of-war. Blowing in umpteen different directions, the blustery scene depicted my current state of mind: frenzied, scattered, unsettled. My anxious eyes darted back and forth between the ticking clock, my wailing kids, and the straining pine trees in the backyard.

Finally, I heard the paramedics in the background and for the first time in forever, I took a breath.

I shot off a text message to my brother.

“Call me,” I wrote. “Mom just tried to kill herself.”

Even as I hit “send” with my quivering thumb, the moment seemed surreal. Did this really just happen? How? Why?

As I drove to Missouri, I tried to imagine what was running through my mom’s desperate mind as she ingested an entire bottle of sleeping pills. I envisioned her in her soft flannel pajamas, sitting on the cold tile bathroom floor, swallowing one handful of pills after another. My eyes squeezed shut and a lump formed in the back of my throat. I knew clinical depression was scary, but I’d never seen it up-close-and-personal.

When I stepped inside the hospital room, Mom’s eyes revealed a mixture of sorrow, regret, guilt, and fear. I sat next to her on her bed. She clasped my hand in hers, gripping it tightly.

“I’m sorry,” Mom said softly, staring at the floor.

It’s okay,” I replied.

The truth was that it wasn’t okay. Not even a little bit. But what else could I say?

I stayed with her for several days, trying to soothe her by offering hugs and encouraging her by offering advice.

“Go to group therapy. Go to individual therapy. Do anything and everything to help you feel better,” I suggested. “Snarf up every resource possible.”

But instead of concentrating on getting better, she seemed more concerned with how her behavior would be perceived.

“What will people say if they find out what I did?” Mom asked, her eyes brimming with tears.

After she was released from the hospital, I went back home to Indiana. The following month, I was cautiously optimistic when Mom invited me, my husband, and our sons to visit her for her birthday and stay through Easter weekend. I took it as a good sign that she wanted to reconnect with her grandsons, so we packed our bags and drove west.

Though it was great to spend time with Mom, she was anxious and unsettled, worried that the kids might make a mess in her house. This was a far cry from the woman who in the past would often jump into the lake to entertain her grandsons. She spoke slowly and methodically yet still stumbled on her words. She seemed uncomfortable in her own skin. She wouldn’t even sit down to eat meals. Instead she stood by the sink, nervously nibbling at her food like a rodent.

One morning when the house was quiet, Mom approached me and said meekly, “Christy. I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

I didn’t want to rush her or force her, but I was desperate to hear what she had to say.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you,” she said, squeezing my hands as if to relay some sort of message to me through code.

“Honest about what?”

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. I pressed her a bit more.

“You can tell me, Mom. Whatever it is, I’ll help you. What are you not being honest about?”

“We’d better get ready,” she said tersely, releasing my hands. “The boys want to go to the zoo today.”

Just like that, the moment was gone.

At the zoo, the kids had fun seeing the animals and riding the train, but I couldn’t get past the vacant stare in Mom’s eyes. It was like she was looking past everybody—like she wasn’t all there. Anytime I tried to engage with her, I’d get the same response: “I’m tired.”

That evening after tucking the boys into bed, I asked Mom if she wanted to talk. She looked at me with a pained expression, like she was gripping a hot plate without a pot holder.

“Well, I…um, I,” she muttered.

I don’t know if she couldn’t speak or wouldn’t speak or what was going on. But her mind definitely seemed muddled. I knew something was gnawing at Mom, but I didn’t know how to pull it out of her.

When I laid down to bed that night, tears welled up in my eyes as I confided to my husband, “I think Mom may still be suicidal.”

I hated to admit it out loud, and yet, I could sense a definite heaviness to her spirit.

“Why do you say that?” Eric asked.

“I can’t put my finger on it, but she’s definitely not herself. She’s apologized profusely for trying to kill herself, but earlier today she told me that she’s not been completely honest with me, and when I asked her what about, she clammed up. Have you noticed how empty her eyes look?”

“What do we do? Your dad won’t listen. He’s adamant that she’s getting better.”

“But clearly she’s not. I wish I could get her to confide in me, but I feel like us being here is stressing her out more,” I said. “If the boys’ energy is causing her anxiety to spike, maybe we should take off and let her and Dad have a quiet holiday weekend.”

“Okay,” Eric agreed.

The next morning, I found Mom in the kitchen. She wasn’t eating, cooking, or doing dishes. She was simply standing in her housecoat staring into space. Until she caught a glimpse of my oldest son. Then her eyes moved to him and she watched him intently, like she was memorizing his every move. She did the same when my younger son entered the room. When I sat down, she acknowledged me with a weak, forced smile like she was using every last bit of energy to keep from crying.

I approached her and said softly, “Mom, we’ve decided to leave early.”

“When?”

“Here in a few minutes,” I said. “Eric’s packing the car.”

Confusion, sadness, and relief simultaneously spread across her face.

“Why today?” she asked.

“I can tell you’re struggling, Mom, and I know the boys have a lot of energy. I want you to be able to rest so I think it’s best if we get out of your hair.”

Her lips began to quiver, her brows furrowed, and she said with palpable remorse, “I’m sorry, Christy. I’m so sorry.”

It was a phrase she had repeated numerous times over the past three days so I didn’t think much of it. I replied in the same way I had all weekend—by telling her, “It’s okay.”

We hugged and I told her I loved her.

“Things will get better,” I whispered into her ear. “I promise.”

Those were the last words I ever spoke to my mother.

Six weeks later, my phone rang again. When I answered, I heard my dad’s voice, low and scratchy, say my name, followed by a long pause.

“She did it again,” he said quietly.

My gut clenched as all the color drained from my face.

“What?” I asked.

“She was doing better. She seemed stronger….” he said, his voice cracking.

My entire body began to tremble.

“It’s far worse this time,” he continued. “She swallowed hundreds of pills of all different kinds.”
My knees buckled.

“No-no-no-no,” I repeated.

How could this be happening again?

“I’ll jump in the car,” I told my dad as tears sprang to my burning eyes. “I can leave right now and be there by midnight.”

“Even if you left now, I don’t think you’d make it in time to say goodbye.”

Wait. What? Goodbye? Oh, Jesus!

My breath caught in my throat as my heart splintered.

When I got news in the middle of the night that Mom had died from the overdose, my world faded to grey.

Why? Why? Why? Why?

A thousand other questions bombarded my brain, but this was the predominant one. I could not, for the life of me, make sense of the fact that my sweet, loving, kind, compassionate mom would choose to take her own life. It defied logic and left me feeling helpless, hopeless, and hollow. How was I supposed to go on? How was I to let go of the guilt that gnawed at me round the clock? How was I to ever smile again? None of it seemed possible.

“Everything’s possible with God,” well-meaning people told me. But their platitudes and looks of pity only pissed me off. They didn’t know what it felt like to be leveled by grief. Though friends encouraged me to find peace through prayer, I did the opposite and gave God the silent treatment. What did I have to say to Him, anyway? I was angry that He had not only taken away my mom but that He had allowed her to exit the earth in such a terrible, tragic way. Having been a Christian all my life, I’ll admit it felt strange to cut Christ from my life, but I didn’t know what else to do. Many days, I found myself curled in the fetal position, sobbing and gasping for air.

Over the next six months, everything was a chore—driving, cooking, reading, even sleeping. Then one night I fell into a deep slumber and was met by a vivid dream that seemed to carry with it a distinct message.
I was at home when suddenly bright blue skies began to darken as a slight breeze tickled the shutters. Instantaneously, the sky transformed into a greenish-black hue. A small hiss followed a rumble, then a booming crash. The ground shook with a sinister force. Giant tree limbs snapped. Heavy shutters broke. Tin mailboxes crumpled. Wooden dog houses cracked. As the wind continued to howl, dirt, debris, and trash swirled through the air like frenzied snowflakes. Fence sections and lawn ornaments crashed through windows and dented car doors.

The scene was chaotic and scary. I glanced out the window, helpless and weak. Then, just as quickly as it built, the storm died out, and the world grew eerily still. I stepped outside to assess the damage and my jaw dropped at the sight of the devastation. Our beautiful house—a house I had always perceived to be strong and indestructible—was now a shell of its former self.

As I walked the perimeter of the house, I saw that it was uprooted from its foundation. It became evident that we wouldn’t have access to power or water anytime soon. It was going to take a lot of time and effort to rebuild this foundation—to start fresh. As a result, we would not be living comfortably for quite some time.

There was a silver lining, however. Despite such extensive damage, we determined that we could stay in the house, which provided a degree of comfort.

I stood in stunned silence, beholding the wreckage that surrounded me. I couldn’t believe the massive devastation that had leveled my life in the blink of an eye. But…I had survived.

For the first time since Mom’s suicide, I woke up with a sense of peace. I knew I would still face challenges and cry countless tears. But I had survived the worst, and though my foundation was shaky, I was still standing. And I could feel God standing beside me.

In the weeks and months ahead, I began surrounding myself with others who needed love and support, and, together, we journeyed through our pain: we shared tears, smiles, and embraces, and we held one another up, day in and day out. I learned that being in a community is perhaps the most important piece of life’s puzzle when it comes to maintaining a healthy existence. I also found that even in the deepest, darkest pit of despair, one can find a sliver of light, a glimmer of hope, a hint of peace. And that is what propels us forward, enabling us to breathe in, breathe out, and carry on.

In our previous article where we discussed the mind-boggling complexity of our eyes’ retinas. We learned about the ten separate layers of cells, but we did not elaborate on the intricacies of their creation. We also learned how the substance in the cone cells, called rhodopsin, is destroyed on exposure to light and then regenerated in the dark. We thus touched on the wisdom behind the existence of both night and day.

The destruction of rhodopsin is caused by the generation of electricity after its contact with light. This electric impulse is transmitted from cones and rods to either horizontal or bipolar (having two poles) cells. The section between these two different layers of cells is called the outer plexiform layer, where horizontal cells receive electric impulses from rods and cones, and carry them to neighboring bipolar cells. The horizontal cells are also charged with transmitting electricity horizontally between rod and cone cells. The signals make it possible for shapes to be carried to the central nervous system in an appropriate contrast. Other signals are blocked so that the borders of the place of contact with light can be clarified in the brain, which does not receive an excessive load of signals. If it were not for these cells, it would be harder to perceive borders because the line of difference between two different colors would not become clear.

Bipolar cells have two opposite poles. They are created as one of two types, in accordance with their functions: one amplifies generated electric impulses, while the other inhibits the transmission of excessive impulses from around the perceived object to the brain. Bipolar cells provide the contrast necessary for making borders clear. They make clear vision possible, and yet most people have never heard of this wondrous gift inside their retinas!

How is contrast enabled?

Thanks to an innate ability, our brain does not occupy itself with regions that have the same color or the same light. It will not be stimulated much if, for example, a wall is completely white or a car is bright red all over. If, however, there are other colors on the wall, say, a white moon or star on a red background, then there will be more stimulation in the brain. Suppose we place the shape of a crescent on the wall. The stimulated parts of the brain will lie along the sharp ends of the crescent, not in the inside or outside of it. The stimulation in the brain is less associated with non-contrasting regions than contrasts in view. The higher the contrast, i.e. the greater the difference between light and dark areas, the greater the degree of stimulation.

Amacrine cells in the inner plexiform layer of the retina enable horizontal transmission. There are up to 30 different types of these cells, and they carry out at least five to six functions. For instance, one type of Amacrine cell transmits electric impulses from cones and rods to bipolar cells, then to other Amacrine cells, then to ganglion cells, and finally to the brain.

Another type of Amacrine cell responds strongly to the onset of the visual signal, while another to its completion. One other type reveals the difference in light intensity regardless of direction, while still others respond to the movement of a light point in a certain direction in the retina, causing a perception in the brain as to the direction of the light.

Further research may reveal yet more functions. Amacrine cells might have such functions as regulating the intensity of electric impulses specific to each wavelength and generating different levels of impulses for moving or stationary objects.

The function of the ganglion cells in the innermost layer of the retina is to help ensure that the electric impulse generated and corrected in the retina is eventually transmitted to the brain. Three distinct ganglion cells are identified in the retina. These cells are represented with the letters W, X, and Y. W cells are assigned the task of transmitting signals from rod cells, which produce black and white visual signals in the dark. Making up about 40 percent of all ganglion cells, they have diameters of less than 10 micrometers and transmit signals at a speed of 8 m/sec. It is evident that these cells are assigned the task of perceiving objects in the dark as rough, vague shapes.

X cells, on the other hand, transmit electric impulses to the brain, creating precise color pictures of objects. Making up 55 percent of ganglion cells, they have midsize diameters (10-15 micrometers) and transmit signals at a speed of 14 m/sec.

The largest of ganglion cells (with diameters as long as 35 micrometers), Y cells are assigned the task of transmitting instant changes in sight. Making up only 5 percent of ganglion cells, they send signals at speeds of 50 m/sec.

Sending intense signals in split seconds, Y cells inform the central nervous system immediately in case of a threat or an unusual encounter. When our body or eyes face a threat, these cells help protect us by warning the brain to move away from the threat or close our eyelids rapidly. If it were not for these cells, we would not be able to reflexively close our eyes and thus protect them. It’s incredible to ponder how complex these systems are – and how perfectly they’ve been created.

Between layers of cells there also lie layers of network that house neurons and their connections (synapses). These cells too have subgroups trained to carry out specific tasks. All of these cells are built according to certain specifications so that they can transmit stimuli to the brain when they receive light. Extremely severe visual problems develop when even a single layer of these types of cells is missing. Every one of the layers in our eyes is immensely special, and it is hard to imagine them to have been randomly placed there. It should be born in mind that this article simply skipped numerous elements of the retina and their chemical functions. Taking the precise measurements and mechanisms into account, we can only feel greater awe and love in the face of the incredible art devoted to the creation.

The first article can be found at https://fountainmagazine.com/2018/issue-126-november-december-2018/retina-the-mind-boggler

After that question, I found myself at the doctors.

“If your heart is OK, then your body is OK,” she told me with worrying eyes.

“I’ve never had pain in my chest for this long,” I told her. “It feels as if somebody is sitting on my heart. But if I put my hand on my chest, that warmth helps to alleviate the pain.”

She was concerned. We stopped and she urged me to go to the ER immediately.

“I need to pray,” I told her. “It will take ten minutes and I will be at the hospital praying room. There are always a few people there, so don’t worry.”

She nodded. “I believe in the power of the prayer and meditation,” she added. And she ensured that I see a specialist for the chest pain.

I left that building and crossed the road to go to the other building. I was holding my heart, thinking the metaphors that we think of as a mundane saying. None of the metaphorical descriptions were solely poetry or were merely linguistic elaboration. Rather, they all meant what is untold and unseen and indescribable. At that moment I realized this heart was given to me. I was doing my best for a month to satisfy her needs and to ease her tension. But she was behaving as a separate and independent unit that has her own free will. I realized this for the first time in my life. Maybe the metaphor for this case would be extending a helping a hand to my heart, or to surround her with muscles. Maybe I forced too much on her, or did not appreciate the help my individual organs, my body as a whole, have given me.

That night, a friend of mine, not knowing what I had been thinking during the day, told me that we should talk to our bodies. “You should thank your feet that carried you all those years, my friend,” she said. “You should appreciate your eyes, which never gave up on you. You should thank your arms and hands since you would be speechless without them as a writer. You should thank your brain, for she listened to her Owner all these years and served you to be a better human every day.” “You know,” I added, “you are so right. After all, the one who cannot thank people and things cannot thank their Owner, the Beautiful, the Merciful, the Wise, the Choice Maker!”

I have been reading a lot lately. But there is something we learn from life and other people that no book can cover. Thus, I believe humankind is a unique book, its own kind of scripture. Humans read the universe with one eye, and the Scriptures with the other. Thus, we are given double eyes. And humans stand at the conjunction of these two books of meaning, being ourselves the third book which is uniquely because it is not just a book to read but also a reader. The more humans read these two books, the more we become a readable book.

So what is written in me? I suppose the basis of all lines is this sentence I heard from my doctor today: Save your heart, if the heart is good then your body and mind will be healthy. I wish I knew the language of the heart that would make my body healthy and would make my mind a reader and my self a book. The heart is at the center of human life, both in the physical and metaphysical senses. The heart is at the heart of the fact that humankind is a book to be read and discovered. The heart defines what we feel and motivates us in life. The heart defines which way the mind will travel. The heart is the teacher of the mind. Do you think we can unravel the language of the heart?

In his book, Flew states, “I should point out, moreover, that this is not the first time I changed my mind on a fundamental issue. Among other things, readers who are familiar with my vigorous defense of free markets may be surprised to learn that I was once a Marxist …” Flew in fact consistently mentions throughout his book that it is not actually the first time he changed his mind. These statements may disappoint those readers who want to hear more reliable arguments on the question of God. However, as a philosopher, Flew is confident in his decision and leaves it to readers to decide how to deal with his reasons for changing his mind. Given the possibility of progress in philosophy, Flew considers it a principle to follow the argument wherever it may lead him. Therefore, before reading this book, one should keep in mind that the book has a philosophical perspective rather than a religious one. Philosophical thought is inherently unbiased (or unguided) and quite evolutionary as opposed to any given religion (say Christianity, Islam or Judaism), which usually has its own well-defined and self-consistent structure.

It is not possible in this short article to summarize all of the reasons which led Flew to believe in God in the later stage of his life. Below, we mainly discuss how Flew’s decision was influenced by the origin of the laws of physics. We also show how his final thoughts compare with modern Muslim scholars Nursi and Gülen, who have roots in revelations rather than philosophy. Then we explain why we believe Flew’s methodology is not safe as long as it stays within the territories of traditional philosophy.

Laws of physics and “mind of God”

When Flew discusses the origin of the laws of physics (or undeniable design in the universe), he gives statements from the founders of quantum physics, all of whom connect the laws of nature with the “Mind of God,” as described by Einstein. He refers to Max Planck, Werner Heisenberg, Erwin Schrodinger, and Paul Dirac. Below, we only quote Schrodinger’s statement:

“The scientific picture of the world around me is very deficient. It gives me a lot of factual information, puts our experience in a magnificently consistent order, but is ghastly silent about all that is really near to our heart, that really matters to us. It cannot tell a word about the sensation of red and blue, bitter and sweet, feelings of delight and sorrow. It knows nothing of beauty and ugly, good or bad, God and eternity. Science sometimes pretends to answer questions in these domains, but the answers are very often so silly that we are not inclined to take them seriously.

Science is reticent too when it is a question of the great Unity of which we somehow form a part, to which we belong. The most popular name for it in our time is God, with a capital ‘G.’ Science is, very usually, branded as being atheistic. After what we have said this is not astonishing. If its world picture does not even contain beauty, delight, sorrow, if personally cut out of it by agreement, how should it contain the most sublime idea that presents itself to the human mind?”

Nursi and Gülen, two great scholars of our modern times, have the following views on this. According to Nursi [2,3], only through the light of faith in God and His Divine Revelation, can humans understand their true essence, the universe that they reside within, their past, present, and their future. Otherwise, things and events surrounding them would be highly difficult to comprehend, because the only mechanism that would remain to interpret the purpose behind would be the ego equipped with limited knowledge and experience, which is too subjective to rely on and far from being convincing. Most of the time, the ego misguides people into the darkness and heedlessness. However, with the light of faith, believers do not fall into such catastrophes. Believers better understand and appreciate the universe and do not suffer as unbelievers do; rather they enjoy the whispering galleries in the universe and beyond.

Gülen’s perspective [2,4,5] is similar to Nursi. Although it might be possible for some brilliant scientists to discover how things work at the most fundamental levels of particles, it is impossible to fully comprehend how these particles actually constitute the whole in such a perfect harmony. This is because there is infinite knowledge of the Omniscient behind the scenes. Those who deny the existence of the Omniscient are shocked by the incredible harmony in nature and yet attribute it all to the creatures themselves. These limited, shortsighted perspectives and prejudices leave so many gaps in the quest for existence that the systems developed based on them cannot convince anyone, but rather open up greater questions in the heart, mind, and soul, all waiting to be answered. However, a person equipped with the former perspective can reach more conclusive results in very short times with much less efforts compared to those unbelievers who consume their lives to understand existence. Believers feel the signs of God in everything they explore and live their days as if in the avenues of Paradise. If the reason is integrated with the revelation, only then can it elevate us to the realms of the unreachable. It opens the doors to the true universe, which is otherwise hidden in darkness and chaos. With revelation, the universe turns into a great book of existence, telling about its Creator on every page. Then those struggling in emptiness and tyranny are awakened to humanistic ideals and the truth.

On the different pages of his book, Flew reminds the reader that scientists like Paul Davies and John Barrow have received the Templeton Prize for further developing the insights of Einstein, Heisenberg, and other scientists into theories of the relationship between the rationality of nature and the Mind of God. Flew draws attention to the existence of natural laws and cites Paul Davies, who says, “even the most atheistic scientist accepts as an act of faith the existence of a law-like order in nature that is at least in part comprehensible to us.” The critical question Flew asks is, “whose laws?”

Flew thinks, no matter what, we still have to come to terms with the origin of the laws of nature. He says, “the only viable explanation here is the divine Mind.” Once the physical laws are set correctly, one can think of our resultant universe; however, the question that needs to be answered is ‘who set the laws and why did they set them this way?'”

Flew also reminds the reader of the following question related to the origin of life, a question that has not been answered: “How can a universe of mindless matter produce beings with intrinsic ends, self-replication capabilities, and coded chemistry?” He quotes from Paul Davies again, “The problem of how meaningful or semantic information can emerge spontaneously from a collection of mindless molecules subject to blind and purposeless forces presents a deep conceptual challenge.” Flew makes an important distinction between this question and what is being addressed by “evolution.” He says that the latter is dealing with the interaction of chemicals, whereas the above question is interrogating how something (chemicals) can be intrinsically purpose driven.

Nursi explains this as follows [6]:

“If you do not accept that the particles in your body are tiny officials in motion in accordance with the law of the Pre-Eternal and All-Powerful One, or that they are an army, or the nibs of the pen of Divine Determining, with each particle as the nib of a pen, or that they are points inscribed by the pen of Power with each particle being a point, then in every particle working in your eye there would have to be an eye such as could see every limb and part of your body as well as the entire universe, with which you are connected. In addition to this, you would have to ascribe to each particle an intelligence equivalent to that of a hundred geniuses, sufficient to know and recognize all your past and your future, and your forbears and descendants, the origins of all the elements of your being, and the sources of all your sustenance. To attribute the knowledge and consciousness of a thousand Plato’s to a single particle of one such as you who does not possess even a particle’s worth of intelligence in matters of this kind is a crazy superstition a thousand times over!”

Here Nursi argues that the intelligence and consciousness that are exhibited in the universe can only be understood by the existence of the Pre-Eternal and All-Powerful One. He guides these mindless particles toward a Divine Determining and in accordance with the law. Nursi also draws attention to a subtle point which is missing in the philosophers’ question above. The particles and the law they are bound to are created so intelligently and consciously that they do not only give rise to the sustenance of the current universe, but we can tailor them for our future sustenance and well being. To give an example, consider a 10 billion year old particle, an electron. How did this particle lead to today’s electronic revolution? How did it know it could function one day as part of a flowing current in a computer chip?

Pilgrimage of reason is not safe

In his book, Flew considers three evidences which require an Intelligence explaining not only its own existence but also that of the world. These are the laws of nature, life, and the existence of the universe. Flew admits that the journey to his discovery of God has so far been a pilgrimage of reason. He has followed the argument where it has led him. The arguments led him to accept the existence of a self-existent, immutable, immaterial, omnipotent, and omniscient being.

Although it’s quite impressive what Flew has gone through and he put forward reasonable arguments, no one can actually guarantee that his arguments will ultimately lead to Truth, since they can be neither proved nor disproved. Worse, a smarter philosopher or scientist may well appear in the future and challenge him. Then, how can we actually make sure that Flew is actually right in his arguments?

The answer is, “we can never be.” There is a need for a strong “point of support,” since science and philosophy alone, by definition, as admitted in Schrodinger’s statement above, cannot provide absolutely convincing arguments. If God exists and wants man to know Him, there is a need for a clear message immune from any kind of ambiguity and understandable by virtually anyone. Nothing would be clearer than direct revelations from God. Interestingly, there are, in fact, many verses in the Quran [7], for example, which draw attention to such clarity in God’s messages:

• “A.L.R. These are the Ayats of Revelation, of a Quran that makes things clear.” (The Rocky Tract 1)
• “We have already sent down to you verses making things clear, an illustration from (the story of) people who passed away before you, and an admonition for those who fear (Allah).” (The Light 34)
• “Thus we have sent down Clear Signs; and verily Allah guides whom He will!” (The Pilgrimage 16)
• “We have sent down to you Manifest Signs; and none reject them but those who are perverse.” (The Heifer 99)
• “A.L.R. (This is) a Book, with verses basic or fundamental (of established meaning), further explained in detail, from One Who is Wise and Well-Acquainted (with all things):” (The Prophet Hud 1)
• “A Sura which we have sent down and which We have ordained: in it We have sent down Clear Signs, in order that you may receive admonition.” (The Light 1)
• “This is the Way of your Lord, leading straight: We have detailed the Signs for those who receive admonition.” (The Cattle 126)

Revealing the Message of God

Flew finishes his book with a very beautiful analogy of a satellite phone discovered by an island tribe. The sage in the tribe suggests that the phone is a medium of contact with other humans. After some investigation, the tribe confirms that the phone is connected to a network which transmits the voices of intelligent beings that exist. They go even further and decipher the patterns and rhythms and their whole world changes. Similarly the discovery of phenomena like the laws of nature-the communications network in this parable–has led the thinkers to accept the existence of an infinitely intelligent Mind. Although Flew summarizes his pilgrimage in a very beautiful fashion with such a parable, we should agree, however, that the direct revelation of God through his messengers is the integral part of this communication network. Even Flew subconsciously acknowledges the role of the “sage” in his parable.

Acknowledgment: This article was produced in Mergeous [8], an online article and project development service for authors and publishers dedicated to the advancement of technologies in the merging realms of science and spiritual thought. The longer and live version of the article [9] is also available in Mergeous for interested readers.

References

1. A. Flew, “There is a God: How the World’s Most Notorious Atheist Changed His Mind,” HarperCollins Publishers (New York, 2007).

2. Kainata Imanla Bakis, http://www.mergeous.com/projectcon.asp?aid=21

3. Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, Sozler, Sayfa 281-299 (risaleinurenstitusu.org).

4. M. F. Gülen, “Islam’in engin ufku,” Yagmur, Sayi 30, Ocak-Mart 2006.

5. M. F. Gülen, “Marifet, Muhabbet ve Medyuniyet,” Kirik Testi, http://www.herkul.org/kiriktesti/?article_id=7978

6. Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, The Flashes, pg. 237 (translated by Sukran Vahide).

7. A. Y. Ali, The Qur’an Translation, Tahrike Tarsile Qur’an, Inc. (New York 2004).

8. Mergeous, Online article and project development service, mergeous.com

9. There is a God: How the world’s most notorious atheist changed his mind, by Antony Flew (Review), http://www.mergeous.com/articlecon.asp?aid=16