Achieving a constant state of happiness first requires a profound understanding of oneself and an acute awareness of one’s reality. Recognizing that there must be a purpose behind human creation, I realized that lasting happiness and inner peace could only be attained by discovering this purpose and aligning my life accordingly. I understood that every new situation presented an opportunity to progress toward life’s deeper beauties. This transformation in perspective allowed me to derive personal satisfaction irrespective of external circumstances or conditions.

Over time, it became evident that life does not always unfold according to one’s wishes. Nevertheless, I came to accept that if the events shaping my path were part of a divinely orchestrated destiny, then they inherently held meaning and purpose. In a life plan uniquely designed for me, it would be impossible for a situation to arise that did not ultimately serve my benefit or growth. Thus, I began to view each experience as a carefully crafted treasure trove of lessons. Embracing the viewpoint that a believer, whether tested by hardship or blessed with prosperity, is always in a position of gain, I perceived every situation as a form of divine grace. Consequently, my foremost responsibility was to internalize this reality and actively incorporate it into my daily life.

However, the true meaning of life and my own place within it became fully clear during a profound period of captivity. The circumstances that led to my imprisonment were deeply political, rooted in the systematic repression carried out by the Erdogan administration in Turkey, under which mass arrests and detentions targeted individuals not for violence or crime, but simply for dissent. Despite the suffering, captivity became the place where I discovered the genuine beauty and deeper purpose of life. This experience exposed my human weaknesses and made real the truth of the saying, “pain matures the soul.” By consciously giving meaning to what I lived through, I reached a powerful realization: none of my experiences were wasted. Each one was a meaningful chapter in a greater story written for my growth.

Significantly, I understood that the suffering and pain I had perceived were often a product of my own distorted interpretations and judgments. Life itself, in its essence, resembled a beautiful book; yet when its beauty went unrecognized, it became akin to a story abandoned after its first page—empty, meaningless, and devoid of value. This recognition illuminated the importance of perceiving life as it truly is, rather than as it appears through the lens of emotional distortions. In this context, the insight of Bediuzzaman Said Nursi, a renowned Islamic scholar—"Those who see beautifully think beautifully, and those who think beautifully find joy in life"—emerged as a timeless guiding principle, highlighting the transformative power of perception.

People are asleep

My imprisonment became a means of awakening, an embodiment of the profound truth expressed by Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) in his saying, "People are asleep; they wake up when they die." Within the solitude of confinement, I was afforded the rare opportunity to confront realities previously obscured by the distractions of daily life. I came face to face with what it truly meant to be human and acknowledged the deep dissonance between the truths I professed to know and the life I was actually living.

During this period of isolation, the words of Rumi resonated deeply within me: "Just as the thirsty yearns for water, the water also seeks lips to quench its own thirst." In a similar vein, I came to believe that God had granted me this trial as an opportunity for my soul to quench its thirst for authentic meaning. All that remained for me to do was to offer boundless gratitude and praise to God for this unexpected blessing.

God-centered existence

The spiritual psychology expressed by Prophet Muhammad and some Islamic thinkers such as Nursi, and Rumi finds deep and striking parallels within Christianity and Judaism, revealing a shared understanding of suffering as a path to awakening and inner purification. In Christian theology, hardship is not viewed as meaningless pain but as a divine instrument through which the soul is refined and drawn closer to God, as reflected in St. Paul’s teaching that suffering produces perseverance, character, and hope. Similarly, Jesus’ life and suffering stand as the ultimate symbol of redemption, where pain becomes a gateway to spiritual rebirth.

Judaism likewise teaches that trials are a form of divine testing meant to purify the heart and strengthen faith, as expressed in Proverbs, which compares the human soul to silver refined by fire. This closely mirrors the Islamic belief that adversity matures the soul and unveils deeper truths hidden beneath the surface of comfort. In all three traditions, suffering is not a sign of abandonment by God, but rather an intimate form of divine engagement—an invitation to transcend the ego, correct one’s perception of reality, and awaken to a more meaningful, God-centered existence.

Crucible for awakening

Moreover, captivity revealed the extent of my spiritual thirst—for life, for belief, and for the values I claimed to cherish. Perhaps most startling was the realization that I had been completely unaware of this yearning. I had been consumed by worldly ambitions and fleeting pursuits, oblivious to how much of my life had slipped away. Prison, paradoxically, became the crucible for my spiritual awakening—a space where I recognized my inner desolation and began to take meaningful steps toward satisfying the deeper needs of my soul.

Upon recognizing the reality of my situation, profound regret washed over me. I mourned the years wasted in superficial pursuits; the time lost in the illusion of faith rather than its sincere practice. I wept for the lost opportunities to truly live by the teachings of the book of God, understanding belatedly that had I engaged with it with genuine reflection and earnestness, my life would have unfolded with far greater beauty and purpose. The realization that I had neglected such a profound gift for so long was devastating, yet also deeply transformative.

This confrontation with my own shortcomings revealed the fragility of my faith. The oft-repeated phrase "hanging by a thread" took on visceral meaning, deeply shaking my very foundations. I discerned how precarious my belief had become—despite having memorized the six pillars of faith in childhood, I had failed to internalize and live by them. I found myself grappling with profound questions: What does it truly mean to believe in God, in the Holy Books, in the Angels, in the Prophets, in the Day of Judgment, and in Divine Destiny? It became apparent that merely professing faith was insufficient; true belief necessitated active embodiment and practice.

This painful but necessary realization unveiled a critical gap between the beliefs I claimed to hold and the life I actually lived. In neglecting to live by my stated values, I had, instead, come to shape my beliefs around my experiences—believing as I lived, rather than living as I believed. Consequently, I had drifted far from the Scripture and the Prophetic path, relying instead on my own flawed interpretations. The life I had constructed was one of chaos and spiritual emptiness, starkly contrasting with the divine tranquility I had so long sought.

Through the struggles of imprisonment, I came to a profound understanding of divine testing. I realized that God tests His servants through hardship, not to break them, but to guide them back to Him. My life in prison was one such divine test, an opportunity for reflection and repentance. It was through this trial that I was blessed with an awakening—a renewed commitment to the values I once only claimed to uphold. For this extraordinary mercy, I offered unending thanks to God, fully aware that, had this trial not occurred, my life may have continued on a trajectory of unconsciousness and ultimate loss.

Having arrived at this realization, I turned to God with earnest supplication, seeking forgiveness, mercy, and the continued blessing of His guidance. I understood, with clarity and conviction, that enduring happiness and true peace, aligned with my faith, could only be attained through God’s favor and my unwavering commitment to live by the principles He revealed. In this, I found myself echoing the insight of Muhyiddin Ibn Arabi: that the real journey is not outward, but a return from myself to myself, discovering that every search, every struggle, and every moment of distance was, in truth, a path leading back to my own heart and to the presence of God. Thus, what seemed an external quest resolved into an inner awakening, realizing that the One I sought was never absent, and that my true task is to purify the self, recognize His nearness, and walk, with humility and love, in the light of His guidance.