The Cave | A Spiritual Refuge to Allah

The cave is quiet. The cave is silent. The cave is a source of solace—ideal for deep contemplation.

The cave is always with me. The cave is always there. The cave is an escape—it is my escape. The cave is solitude. I am alone in the cave.

In Libyan Arabic, when we describe being alone, we say, be’roohi, the literal meaning of which is, I am with my soul. The soul is from God, so I am always humbly in the presence in whose hand my soul lies.

The cave is a state of being. The cave frees me from the outside world. The cave shelters my heart from a world of distractions and fogged confusion. The cave helps ground me to the only reality. The cave helps me connect with al-Haqq. The cave is my vessel to Him. I am a refugee; the cave is my conduit, and al-Haqq is my refuge. The cave tells me my soul is not from here. The cave helps me find my home.

The cave anchors me to the present. The cave protects me from the anxieties of the past and the fears of the future. The cave is there when I stand before my Lord, beseeching al-Rahman, al-Raheem for His infinite mercy and imploring al-Haadi for His absolute guidance.

In the cave, I am protected by al-Waliy. In the cave, I am in spiritual solitude with al-Muqsit. In the cave, all else dissolves away. In the cave, I am at my weakest with al-Malik. In the cave, I am at my most vulnerable with al-A’zeez. In the cave, I care for nought else.

The cave is not limited to a time or place. The cave cannot be either of those things. The cave is a divinely gifted vessel. This realm does not limit the cave. The cave is beyond the constricts of our human imagination. The cave can only be entered through the heart. The cave is always open. Al-Mu’min’s invitation to the cave is always unobstructed for those seeking communion. The cave can leave the heart at any time. The cave must be grasped tightly, even when it burns like hot coal.

The cave teaches me to love. The cave teaches me to serve. The cave teaches me to forgive. The cave teaches me to see al-Musawwir in all that I perceive. The cave teaches me to discern.

The cave gives me sight. The cave gives me insight. The cave is dark, save for the light from an-Nur. The cave’s solitude is cold, but for the tranquillity that emanates from al-Muhaymin.

The cave helps me understand companionship. The cave helps me comprehend love. The cave gives meaning to my journey. The cave reminds me of the transient nature of relationships—those people just passing through my path in the form of a lesson. The cave prepares me for the eternal connection—with ar-Raqeeb, who has seen me in darkness, coming to him with head bowed, empty-handed, carrying only the shattered pieces of my heart. The cave helps me understand that the one thousand cracks let in the light of ar-Ra’oof so al’Jabbar can put it back together.

In the cave, I feel enough. The cave offers respite from the outside world, where I don’t feel enough, where my being is not enough. Where my words are not enough. Where my heart is not enough. In the cave, I can sit for days with al-Waahid, knowing that just my presence is enough.

In the cave, I learn the fickle nature of life in this realm. In the cave, al-Ghaffar teaches me to forgive with all my might and al-Wadud to love with every shattered piece of my heart—I may not have a chance to do it tomorrow. In the cave, I learn a new form of speech. In the cave, sincerity is my vehicle, tears my fuel to reach al-Wakeel.

Before entering the cave, I leave everything behind. Before entering the cave, I lose myself- there is no room for it in this caravan. Before entering the cave, I commit to a fast of silence so my heart may speak and I can listen to it rather than the crowded thoughts of my ego. Before entering the cave, I free myself from all desires but the yearning to reach al-Ba’ith.

And then…when all the dust has settled; when the last bird has sung its final melody; when the last zephyr softly blows its final breath; when the sun is put out; when the mountains are nothing more than dust; when the seas are set on fire; when every soul has returned to its Lord, humbled and bare; the cave too dissolves and is no more.

This entire realm fades like a forgotten memory, along with the names of the proud rulers, the tyrants, the merchants and the devout worshipers, for they too, must go. The galaxies unravel as the very essence of space-time…ceases.

And in the vast echoing emptiness, a question will resound through the expanse of non-existence: ‘To whom is the absolute dominion today?’

But the cave is no more, so it hangs in the incomprehensible void, remaining unanswered by any creation.

Al-Hayy, the Ever-Living, the Supreme pre-eternal, will answer, 'To Allah, the One, the Subduer.'

And in that ultimate truth, all that remains is all that has ever truly been—Him alone.