The Luminous Experiment
- Nora Amati
- Jan 1
- 2 min read
“And among His signs is the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the diversity of your tongues and your colors. Indeed in that are signs for those who know.”
(Qur’an 30:22)
We are made of light, of energy that shines within us. Discovering this small fire allows us to play, to make it dance, and to transform the world around us, like a garden in spring when the first results of our choices emerge.
We rub our hands to create glitter. We rub the darkness to make light emerge, yet its brightness seems to fade, almost suggesting that darkness is not simply an empty void to fill, but a dimension that requires patient discernment. Hearts have grown weak, minds weary, as if the weight of the world has slowed our breath; yet, despite this gravity, we continue walking in the cave, guided by an unwavering conviction: that the treasure, the hidden truth, still exists, concealed beyond the shadow and not immediately perceptible.
Today, true wealth consists in seeing, in recognizing the signs (āyāt) scattered along the path, even when vision grows uncertain and the meaning of things becomes confused. For this reason, we rub the black to rediscover the white, the cold to awaken the warmth, and our hands to bring out the glitter; and this, in itself, is the magic of existence: to try again, to repeat the creative act, until the gesture produces effect, knowing that the result will be different, transfigured into a new form that initially eludes our perception. Nothing dies; everything transforms: what seems to disappear does so temporarily, only to reform according to laws that transcend our understanding. Here, deep patience (ṣabr) and radical trust are required—not as sterile stubbornness, but as full surrender to the universal laws that govern the unfolding of reality.
In the silence of the cave, we remember (dhikr), and in remembrance the heart brightens. We seek a nūr, a light that filters through the damp rock of the mountain beneath which we find ourselves: not a blinding light, but a light that orients, that guides without imposing. With patience (ṣabr) and trust (tawakkul), we continue the path, aware that the sun’s rays do not vanish, but remain as an eternal principle permeating our being. In the end, the light is ourselves, rolling endlessly like little fireballs, transforming and shaping ourselves until we generate a new figure, and the Master of this universal alchemy is God/Allah.
The Qur’an is full of colors, light, and transformation, and nowhere does it say it is only black and white. If you read it with the heart, you understand it; but if you read it only with the mind, you annihilate it, because the luminous experiment is you and me.
White – الأبيض
2:187, 3:107
Black – الأسود
3:106, 35:27
Yellow – الأصفر / مصفر
2:69, 39:21
Red – الأحمر
35:27
Blue / Pale – الأزرق / زرْق
20:102
Green – الأخضر
36:80, 76:21
Pink – الوردي / وردة
55:37
Dark Green – مدهامتان
55:64
Blackish-Green – الأحوى
87:5



Comments