It was late. The house was quiet. No phone. No screen.
Just me and the sound of my own breathing.
I expected loneliness. Instead, I met myself.
And I realized how long it had been since I just sat — not to solve, not to plan, but just to listen.
I whispered a short du’a that night. Nothing big. Just,
“Ya Allah, I’m here. Tired, but here.”
And I felt heard. Not in the way of a miracle — but like a soft hand on my back.
Maybe peace isn’t in big events. Maybe it comes when we stop trying to manufacture it.
Wasifreflects 