Yasir Abbas

There is a moment just before the noise returns where everything is still. No phone buzzing. No lists screaming for attention. Just the quiet hum of existence itself. Maybe it happens just before Fajr Salah (Dawn Prayer), when the world is still half-asleep and your breath feels like the only thing holding you to this side of reality.

Imagine yourself there. Eyes open but unmoving. The ceiling above you blurs in the dim light. You are not yet thinking, not yet remembering. You are simply there. You have not done anything. You are not anyone in particular. And yet, in that raw state, you exist. Fully. Quietly. Eternally present.

That moment, pure and untouched, is a mirror of something greater. It is Existence, the first of all realities. The way Allah (God) has always been, not becoming, not arriving, just being. Without beginning. Without condition. You do not have to earn this moment. You are, and that is enough.

Then, slowly, the surface begins to ripple. Thoughts rise like mist from a hidden lake. You remember you have tasks left unfinished. A conversation that still weighs heavy. An idea you have been avoiding. A longing that has not left. These thoughts are not random. They form a pattern, quiet revelations peeling back the curtain on your day.

This is Knowledge. Not just memory or intellect, but a deep awareness. The way a mountain knows it is grounded or a tree senses when to bloom. You begin to see what is, both the visible and the hidden. Your responsibilities. Your faults. Your hopes. Your regrets. Your dormant potential.

But knowing alone does not move you. You lie there, full of awareness, but still unmoving. Then, something shifts.

Your feet stir beneath the blanket. Your hand stretches to rub your face. Your spine arches slightly. A pulse of readiness flows through your body. The muscles have not been ordered yet, but they prepare as if anticipating your decision.

This is Power, quiet, internal, and real. It is not adrenaline or motivation. It is the subtle reminder that you can. You can act. You can speak. You can rise. It is the same force that split the seas and sustains the stars, now humming beneath your skin, asking only for your permission.

And then comes the ache.

You remember why it matters. Maybe it is your mother’s medicine that needs to be picked up. Or your daughter’s sleepy smile at breakfast. Maybe it is that novel you started two years ago and left untouched. Whatever it is, it tugs at your soul. A longing to respond to something meaningful. A yearning to bring life into the world through effort, presence, or love.

That is Desire, not the shallow craving we chase all day, but the sacred pull of purpose. The way the earth desires rain or a seed yearns for sunlight. This is what drives you beyond mere survival. This is what makes you say there is more, and I want it.

Desire alone does not birth movement. It needs direction. And then it comes, the choice.

You say to yourself, I will get up. I will pray. I will begin again.

It does not matter how small the step. The decision is what reshapes the day. This is Will, not instinct, not compulsion, but conscious resolve. It is what bridges your potential to your destiny. It is the same will by which Allah (God) chose to create rather than remain concealed.¹

And finally, you act.

Feet hit the floor. Water splashes on your face. You write the first line. You kiss your child. You leave the house. You apologize. You forgive. You take a risk. You do what needed to be done.

That is Action, the ripple touching the shore, the word made flesh, the unseen now visible.

This, my friend, is the pattern, the flow embedded not just in the cosmos but in you.

You exist.
You know.
You are able.
You desire.
You choose.
You act.

It is the very sequence through which Allah (God) brought the universe into being, and He echoes it through every breath you take, every morning you rise, every time you choose what is right over what is easy.

So the next time you feel stuck, lost, or meaningless, pause. Breathe. Return to that silent moment before the day began.

It is all still there. The sacred pattern. The power. The divine rhythm that formed stars is still pulsing — waiting for you to become who you were meant to be.

Footnote:

1. Allah says in Hadith Qudsi “I was a Hidden Treasure; I loved to be known, so I created the creation in order to be known.” ↩︎