Revelation

There are moments in our lives when we receive Revelation. Often they are not ‘mountain-top’ moments of dramatic fire and smoke and lightening — the reception of divine tablets or the appearance of a Messenger of the Lord. No. It is usually much subtler. Much quieter. That ‘still, small voice’. Yet the effect is often the same. The veil is lifted. The scales fall from your eyes. You can see the same, ordinary things of this world and of your life in a completely new way. New meaning emerges in ways previously unnoticed. New patterns. A new narrative. A new understanding.

To use an analogy, it is much like the ‘revelation’ towards the end of Fight Club. In the film, just one bit of simple dialogue triggers a revelation and a new understanding for both the protagonist of the film as well as the viewer, and the result is that the film is seen and understood in a completely new understanding and a new light. Looking back, we can recall instances in the film leading up to this revelation — some instances which we noticed, and some which we didn’t notice — or perhaps only picked up on subconsciously. But put in this new light, all that came before is now clear.

One such moment happened to me this past week. And it began simply enough — with just a question I received on Messenger.

A friend of mine on social media contacted me because he had written a book on the reception of Islam among the Mongols, and he asked if I would read it and write a review. I enthusiastically agreed, because it was a subject that I am particularly interested in. The mere mention, however, of Islam in Mongolia triggered all sorts of thoughts on Mongolia — its land, its religion, its climate, its history, its diet, its vast steppes… and of course, something I have always loved: Mongolian throat singing.

There is something about it that has always triggered in me a strage sort of nostalgia. It is oddly comforting to me. Familiar. Something that I somehow intuitively understand and can relate to — or at least I feel that way. The sounds. The baren landscape. The cold. The isolation. A sort of warrior and stolid lonliness. A way of touching lightly in this world. Your trace in this dunya — in the life in this world — being like tracks upon the water. They appear momentarily, and then disappear without a trace.

This one comment on Facebook would, in short order, start a domino-effect of thoughts. Or perhaps a nuclear chain reaction is a more apt analogy. First one thought is set of… then sparking a few more… which in turn spark a few more… until all of a sudden an extraordinary amount of hidden potential and energy is unleashed in a moment of spectacular, blinding light. And in the end… the Revelation. A metamorphosis, of sorts.

And what was this ‘revelation’? It was something that I would call the ‘Nomad Archetype’ and the ‘Great In-Between’.

The Idea

The concept of the ‘Nomad Archetype’ is not new, of course. But it is not readily apparent, either. In books and online analysis of ‘archetypes’, the ‘nomad’ archetype often does not appear. It doesn’t make the list among common male archetypes such as the ‘warrior’ or the ‘priest’ or the ‘lover’, etc. Nor does the ‘Nomad Archetype’ make much of an appearance in the works of Carl Jung, for example, whose work made popular the idea of ‘archetypes’.

Yet the concept of the ‘Nomad Archetype’ can be found in many places — in the philosophy of Deleuze, in the writings of René Guénon, in the thought of Ernst Jünger, in the expression of various traditions and cultures, in psychology, in sociology, in political philosophy, in literature, in generational theory, and so on. This concept and the concept of the ‘Great In-Between’ is a sort of thread running through all of these sources — yet like the concept itself, it is almost hidden and on the margins. It is not really mainstream. But it is there, if you know what to look for.

It is always the Outsider. It is in the world — but not of it.

The Bedouin disappearing into the moonless desert. The Mongol treading lightly across the plains. The Fremen sliding unperceptively across the sand. The trackless treading upon the water.

The path of the pathless path.

“We shall not cease from exploration…”

In the articles and essays to come, I shall explore this idea from different angles and from various sources. While I originally envisioned writing one large article, I slowly began to feel that there was enough to talk about that breaking the matter up over time was in order. Only in this way can we give sources such as Jünger, Deleuze, and Guénon (for example) the proper attention that they deserve.

These articles are not mere intellectual curiosity. I’m not interested in merely ‘playing with ideas’. Rather, they are a real exploration. An exploration of the soul of a man. They are a psycho-spiritual journey. They are a venturing into the geography of the subconscious — that great ‘In-Between’. Between space and time. Between waking thought and dreams. Between the rational and the absurd. This dynamic space of Becoming. The ‘neti neti’ of the Upanishads. “Not this, not that…”

Perhaps I may be venturing onto new grounds here. Or perhaps not. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Thinking for the sake of thinking and idle curiosity is not helpful. Reading books is also not helpful if it doesn’t change who we are or how we relate to ourselves and to the world. We must be men of action. To this end, the purpose of these articles is not merely to explore an idea, but rather find new meaning in order to approach the world in new ways — with new eyes and a new resolve. As Omid Safi once said:

The spiritual is about the social, the mystical is also about the political. The cosmic in us has to be about both changing the human and changing the world of which we are a part. The healing inside and the healing of the world are wrapped up in one another.

As always, much of what I write here is a dialogue with myself. It is a way of cataloging and putting shape to my own thoughts and ideas. Perhaps you may find something helpful here as well. And so, I am happy to share, and I look forward to fleshing out these ideas in the articles to come. In the meantime, please feel free to respond and to comment. Much of my thoughts on this subject were formulated in conversation with others and in the interplay and intercourse of ideas from various perspectives and lived experiences. Therefore, the more feedback, the better.

For now, thank you for reading, and please keep me in your prayers.

If you like this content, please consider a small donation via PayPal or Venmo. I am currently studying Islam and Arabic full-time with no income, and any donation — however small! — will greatly help me to continue my studies and my work. Please feel free to reach me at saidheagy@gmail.com.

Thank you, and may God reward you! Glory to God for all things!