Rainbow

She sat in her therapist’s office with both feet planted on the floor. Her skin was the color of tree bark. She shivered in the air-conditioned room. Birds chirped outside the window on this sunny afternoon after a rain. A rainbow brightened the sky.

The therapist noticed the distance between them and addressed it.

“It seems you’re not present,” he said. “How can we return to the present moment?”

“I’m here,” she said. “I was just looking outside the window at nature. I’m with you. Don’t worry.”

The rest of the session was a painful tug of war. The client wanted to be elsewhere. The therapist wanted to prove his theories correct. He worshipped at the altar of psychology, an evolving field of social science.

“Despite what your parents think, are you aware that being a lesbian is something to celebrate? It’s a matter of consciousness. What’s most important is what you think,” her therapist tried to guide her down a path of LGBTQIA expression.

Finally, to close the session, the patient asked, “Where does consciousness come from?”

The therapist skirted around the issue. He didn’t understand the depth of her inquiry. Being mindful of Allah was her only refuge. The mind continued its journey even after the end of brain activity, even after its assignment on earth was finished. The therapist didn’t believe in the Hereafter. It was a point of confusion.

The patient left her seat and swore in her heart never to return to this therapist’s office again. It was a mismatch. They weren’t aligned in principle. She believed one day her soul would be set free from the cage of her body. She wanted to worship freely. Psychology put the self on the throne when in reality ego-worship would lead to ruin. There had to be more to life than self-actualization.

She walked down the street and stopped by a bakery. She grabbed chai tea with a chocolate-chip cookie. It was temporary satisfaction. After she poured her heart out for an hour excavating her emotions, this brief pause allowed her to meditate more deeply and to sweeten her soul. She enjoyed every morsel. Chocolate was proof of Paradise. One day she’d be given similar tastes to what she had on earth. She would remember and be familiar with the flavorful medleys.

Not every conversation enlightened, but Islam was an enlightenment. Just meditating on the guiding principles of Islam elevated the soul. This was her opportunity to learn more about her faith or to forever postpone an introduction to belief. Whom Allah guided none could misguide. In essence, she wanted to be among the rightly guided.