The question begins from a point that seems simple, but extends to the very foundation of existence: Can existence stand outside faith?
If we imagine a human being who does not believe at all that he exists, how could he feel his own existence? And how could he build anything while inwardly denying the foundation upon which the building stands? When examining the foundations of existence layer by layer, faith appears as one of the most deeply rooted foundations; because a person who loses his faith in life, for example, does not merely lose a passing idea, but his very existence begins to deteriorate. If he no longer believes in life, death becomes merely a matter of time for him, and his existence begins to disintegrate because he no longer finds a reason to continue building.
For this reason, faith can be viewed as the door of existence. Faith here does not necessarily mean one particular belief; a person may have faith in his mother and father, in his work, in his project, in life, or in what he believes awaits him after this life. Faith comes from security, and whatever you see your security in is your faith. What matters is that there is something that gives his existence direction and makes him capable of building rather than remaining oriented toward destruction.
A person who knows that he is heading toward destruction, while having no conception of what lies beyond it, finds it difficult to give himself the strength to build something lasting. How can he build while he already sees himself as destroyed? And where does his ability to act come from if everything he does ultimately moves toward annihilation?
From here, the loss of faith becomes a separation from existence itself: a separation from its blessings, attributes, and tools. When a person separates himself from existence, he begins entering a chain of “no’s”: existence says yes, while he says no; existence opens a possibility, while he closes it. And the greater the distance between him and existence becomes, the rougher the path becomes.
The Path That Becomes Increasingly Difficult
When a person loses his faith in existence, he does not find a fixed path before him. Rather, the path becomes more difficult stage after stage. The further he proceeds along it, the more he discovers that what awaits him is harder than what he previously faced, until difficulty eventually turns into impossibility.
Here, the concept of hell appears in a different form.
Hell, in this conception, is not merely fire or a psychological state, but the absence of the possibility of existence. To want something and be unable to reach it; to want to touch something and be unable to; to be thirsty and unable to drink; to feel bored and find no means of escaping it; to see what happened and be unable to change it; and to have all your tools of control taken away from you.
Hell is to live inside a losing possibility without possessing the ability to change it.
The one who enters it was able to choose in the beginning. The possibility of returning was before him, but he insisted on his decisions and beliefs. As in the simple example of someone who was told that it would rain and advised to take his shoes with him, but refused based on a contrary belief: if he goes outside and it rains, he will not be able to change the reality of his choice. The consequence here is not so much injustice as it is a direct result of losing the tool of choice.
Therefore, prevention becomes more important than treatment: to protect yourself from the consequence before it occurs, and to realize that your lack of knowledge of the future does not mean that the future does not exist.
But when you return to existence, choices return with you. You become capable of modification and change, and your tools return to your hands once again. You do not merely watch your life as something imposed upon you; you live it and move within it.
Bliss as an Abundance of Choices
If hell is the absence of choices, then bliss is precisely its opposite.
At its essence, bliss is intense affirmation without opposition. It is the state in which you find nothing standing in the way of your existence, and you do not find yourself trapped within a single possibility that you fear may be wrong.
For this reason, the world of bliss is a world in which the word “no” does not exist as a permanent possibility of destruction. If you say, “I want this,” then its existence is not impossible. And if something does not suit you, another possibility exists.
Bliss, therefore, is not merely a beautiful place, but an abundance of existence, choices, and possibilities.
For this reason, the gate of bliss cannot be narrow in the sense humans imagine. If bliss is greater than every place we have ever known, then there is no meaning in its capacity being narrower than the ability of those who exist to enter it. Bliss must be broader than everything we have known; otherwise, it would become another prison that we call bliss because of our ignorance of its true nature.
This can be imagined as a field that surpasses all other fields in vastness to a degree that makes comparison impossible. When you know that there is a broader and more suitable place, there remains no logical reason for you to cling to the narrow place.
Therefore, every existent chooses bliss, except the nonexistent, who may never enter existence in the first place.
Complete Existence and Incomplete Existence
If existence is complete, then its possessor is in bliss; but if his existence is incomplete, he rolls between bliss and suffering.
This incompleteness is connected to faith, because there is a part of the human being that becomes complete only through belief.
This can be imagined through a person who tells you about a place you have never visited. If he is truthful and trustworthy, and tells you everything you need to know, then believing him allows you to possess a part of the experience of that place even though you have not gone there yourself. Belief has filled a deficiency that existed in your knowledge.
As for the one who constantly refuses to believe, he returns to his small and random scale and remains trapped in an incomplete movement whose beginning and end he does not know.
A complete movement is one that has a beginning and an end. As for a movement whose beginning and end are unknown, it remains open to bleeding and continuation. Whoever does not believe in an end cannot stop the bleeding, because he does not believe in the possibility of stopping in the first place.
Belief in the end, by contrast, means belief in the beginning of something else. When a person believes in an end, he becomes capable of transition, and therefore finds himself before an excess of choices instead of remaining trapped in a single movement that never ends.
The Divine World Is Not a Place We Go To
The divine world, according to this conception, is not a place we go to after death, nor a geographical world to which we move. It is a world in which there is only one, and therefore it cannot simply be another place among places.
It is something we believe in and trust, and act on the basis that we enjoy it, because our relationship with it is founded upon belief and trust.
From here comes faith in the Benefactor. There cannot be a blessing without a benefactor. The existence of the Benefactor itself is the first blessing, because the absence of the Benefactor means the absence of the source of blessing from the outset.
Thus, belief in the existence of the Benefactor is not an additional detail, but a condition for the possibility of bliss itself.
Who Is God?
Here another question appears: Can we speak of an undefined, unlimited, and non-personalized God, and at the same time claim that we know Him?
If there is a real difference between God and something else, then there must be some definition, boundary, and specification that allows us to perceive this difference. Existence itself is founded upon boundaries, because existence is the distinction of one from what is other than it, and what is other than the One becomes, within this vision, the field of nonexistence.
For this reason, the statement that there is an “existence without boundaries” becomes problematic, because existence, in its essence, consists of boundaries, definitions, relationships, and distinctions.
God here is not an existent outside existence, but complete existence. The meaning of an unlimited God is not a mysterious being who cannot be defined, because what cannot be defined cannot be something we can claim to have known.
The true God, according to this conception, is “yes” in contrast to the “no” that negates existence. As for the god who becomes a perpetual negation of existence, he becomes similar to the afflicted one who possesses no tools of salvation.
Programming Is the Structure of Existence
If existence is founded upon boundaries, determinations, and relationships, then existence itself can be viewed as programming.
Programming is not merely writing a computer program or organizing a machine; it is the principle that causes things to take specific forms, relationships, and functions.
This meeting itself, for example, would not have occurred without a series of programs: a specific appointment, people programmed to attend, a phone programmed to transmit sound and image, and means that enable communication. Without this programming, the meeting would not have occurred.
Likewise, the meeting between male and female is based upon programming that distinguishes between them and drives them toward meeting.
Creation, in this conception, begins with distinction. The first act in creation is to distinguish this from that, male from female, one thing from another, one existence from another. Without distinction, there are no differences, no meeting, and no embodiment.
Therefore, programming is not an incidental restriction upon existence; it is what makes existence possible in the first place.
The Separation Between Male and Female and the Veil
From here comes the idea of separation between the masculine and the feminine.
Separation does not mean eliminating the relationship; rather, it is what makes the relationship possible. If there were no difference, there would be no real meeting, because meeting presupposes two distinct sides.
The veil, in this sense, does not separate the two existences in order to prevent them from meeting; rather, it separates them in order to make the meeting possible and meaningful.
When there is a boundary between masculine and feminine, each side becomes more aware of itself and more embodied in its identity. But if the boundaries are completely removed, the incentives and motivations that make the meeting meaningful may disappear.
Indeed, love itself, according to this vision, derives part of its strength from the existence of an obstacle; the greater the veil, the greater the meaning of the meeting. But if every veil is removed, the motive itself may disappear. By veil, we mean the boundaries that create difference.
This does not mean that the original program is masculine or feminine. Rather, the original program is what allows the masculine and feminine to become embodied. Separating the two programs increases the efficiency of each, and then allows them to meet within a more balanced system.
The original program, therefore, is not an “androgynous” program that operates both programs together. Rather, it is the origin that allows each pole to become embodied in its own form, to differentiate itself, and then to meet the other pole.
The Body as the Garment of Existence
From here also comes the view of the body.
The body is not something that should be punished or hated. It is the body through which the human being has been embodied, and the instrument through which he experiences existence.
If we contemplate the body and its organs, from the heart to the spleen and all the other organs, we find that they continuously work for the survival of the whole. The body works for life, and life itself is one of the faces of creation.
Therefore, gratitude toward the body becomes a logical attitude within this vision.
Indeed, the body can be viewed as a garment chosen by creation for the human being so that he may experience existence through it. Just as the best garment at a certain stage is the one that protects its wearer, the best body is the body that allows a person to live his experience of existence.
For this reason, a person does not necessarily see everything hidden from him as a deficiency. There are things he does not know because he exists within this body, and there are things he does not see because his function is not to see everything.
Here appears the value of division of labor, separation of powers, and separation of versions: if all versions were combined into a single version, each version would no longer experience the individuality that the original experiences. The human being himself does not know his entire self; rather, he knows a part of it. If he knew himself completely, he would lose part of the beauty of the experience of self-discovery.
Ignorance here is not always a defect; it may be part of the structure of the experience.
The Veil Preserves Existence
Just as the body preserves its boundaries, the veil also preserves the relationship between existents.
A human being does not need to know everything in order to live. Rather, it is the existence of boundaries that allows something to be itself.
Therefore, when a person accepts the body that has been given to him, he also accepts what has been hidden from him. He chooses, by his own will, not to know everything, because he trusts that the division of roles is better than gathering all roles into a single point.
This leads to a fundamental idea: the veil is not always the enemy of knowledge; rather, it is a condition for the existence and differentiation of experience.
The Original Programming and the Secret of Survival
If existence is programming, then survival depends upon the integrity of that programming.
The original programmer knows the original code, and code that contains no vulnerability allowing life to be interrupted does not cause its bearer to be cut off. But programming that contains a flaw causes life within it to bleed continuously.
From here comes the idea of reprogramming.
The goal is not to destroy programming, but to repair corrupted programs, close vulnerabilities, and return the human being to the original programming.
For whoever does not serve existence does not have a stable existence, and whoever does not serve the programming does not have programming that is necessary within this system.
Thus, the programmer’s work becomes upgrading existing programs, creating new programs when necessary, and repairing the flaw that allows the bleeding to continue.
When Programming Becomes a Source of Peace
The difference becomes clear when a person moves from a world of chaos into an organized world.
In chaos, a person becomes anxious because he does not know what others will do. He lives in a constant state of readiness, as though everything could turn into a crisis at any moment.
But when he is surrounded by people who are disciplined within their programming, he feels safe because he knows that each person will do what he is programmed to do.
A person programmed for goodness does not need constant monitoring.
If you are programmed to buy coffee, and another person is programmed to give it to you, there is no reason to worry. But if the person who is supposed to bring the coffee is undisciplined, you may remain waiting, wondering, worrying, and interpreting his actions.
Here appears the meaning of “devils” as an image of chaos and disorder: a being whose behavior cannot be predicted becomes a source of crisis, and crisis feeds further disorder.
When a person moves from a chaotic environment to an organized environment, he feels as though he has moved from a hospital filled with disorder into a society in which every individual knows his role.
Programming in Relationships
True peace, according to this vision, is the compatibility of programs.
If you are programmed to speak about a certain subject, and the other person is programmed to listen to it, harmony occurs.
And if the other person is programmed to speak about a subject while you are programmed to listen, another form of harmony occurs.
If you want something and the other person is programmed to give it to you, and if the other person wants something while you are programmed to give it to him, then the relationship enters a state of peace.
Thus, peace is not merely the absence of conflict; it is compatibility between functions, desires, and programs.
When a person realizes that he is programmed and acts according to his original programming, he sees the programmer himself through the programming, because the effect of the programmer appears in the thing he programmed.
Why Does a Human Being Reject Programming?
A person who has departed from the programming may believe that programming is the cause of his suffering, and he begins searching for freedom from it.
But the problem, within this conception, is not programming itself, but the fact that the programming is working against him.
Even when a person attempts to escape programming, programming does not leave him; rather, it continues to operate within him.
Therefore, the solution becomes returning to the original programming so that programming works in the human being’s favor instead of against him.
Absolute freedom from every program is not necessarily freedom; it may simply be a fall into chaos.
True freedom here is for a person to be capable of living within the programming that fulfills his existence instead of continually fighting it.
The Constraint That Completes the Human Being
From here, the idea of constraint is reversed.
Usually, constraint is viewed as a deficiency in freedom. But if a person voluntarily chooses his constraint, the constraint can become a form of perfection.
A person who cannot stop his desires, thoughts, and emotions remains in a state of continuous bleeding. Every desire pulls another desire, every thought opens another thought, and every feeling summons another feeling.
He cannot stop.
Therefore, a constraint is not necessarily a prison; sometimes it is an act of stopping the bleeding.
To place a boundary between yourself and nothingness, extinction, and destruction means that you have begun giving your existence a form. To choose this boundary willingly means that you have chosen completeness instead of dispersion.
A person who always wants the life of someone else may be incapable of experiencing his own life. Perhaps if he lived his own life completely, he would not ask for the lives of others in the first place.
The desire for another person’s life may be the result of an inability to play your own game, and this is the reason for his feeling of suffering.
Programming and Language
But programming does not appear only in relationships, the body, and behavior; it also appears in language.
Existence itself can be viewed as language, not in the sense of Arabic language, animal language, understandable or incomprehensible language, but rather as sound, system, and meaning.
If the language upon which existence is founded is incoherent, then existence itself appears incomplete.
Therefore, complete speech must be coherent, integrated, interconnected, unified, meaningful, and harmonious.
Speech whose parts harmonize with one another indicates the existence of a system behind it. If its speaker is capable of producing complete, coherent, meaningful speech, then the programming appearing in his speech becomes an indication of the programming present in his existence. This means that the completeness, interconnectedness, and harmony of his words indicate the completeness and correctness of his programming.
Does the Creator Have Speech?
If speech is one of the tools of perfection, another question becomes necessary: Does the Creator speak?
There are two possibilities:
Either speech is a deviation from the origin and an instrument of corruption that should be eliminated; in that case, the Creator must be non-speaking, and speech becomes merely a flaw in the programming.
Or the Creator is the one who granted the human being the ability to speak; in that case, speech must be one of the tools of creation, and the Creator must have speech, although the human being may not be capable of perceiving it directly.
The complete human being, as he becomes more perfect, does not necessarily become silent; rather, his speech becomes more controlled, bounded, and precise.
Therefore, if the speech of the complete human being is controlled, then divine speech, if it exists, should be even more controlled and perfectly ordered.
From here, the speech of the Creator, within this vision, becomes clear signs, indications, and evidences for the one who seeks Him.
The search itself becomes evidence, because the created being who searches for the Creator has recognized his own boundaries. The more a person recognizes the limits of himself, the more he begins to see the signs that point him toward the limits of the Creator.
Why Must There Be Evidence and a Guide?
If the Creator has clear speech, then there must be evidence, guidance, a path, and signs.
The seeker does not search for something for which there is no possibility of encounter. If the Creator knows that there are those who seek Him, then there must be some kind of desire for encounter between the Creator and the seeker.
Otherwise, the entire search would have no foundation.
Likewise, the value of speech does not come from words alone, but from the speaker. The greater the value of the speaker, the greater the value of his words.
Therefore, if we say that the Creator is wise, we cannot deny Him wise speech without placing His wisdom into question. If we say that He is just and merciful, and then deny the existence of guidance, evidence, and a guide, we place His justice and mercy into question. If we deny bliss, we question His generosity; and if we deny hell, we question His justice.
Every “no” here may turn into a rejection of one of the attributes of the Creator.
Indeed, rejecting creation itself becomes, in its ultimate consequences, a rejection of the existence of the human being, because human existence itself is based upon the attributes, mechanisms, and tools of creation.
Trust in the Creator and Acceptance of Existence
For this reason, the human being does not see a clear wisdom in rejecting his existence.
He cannot say to the Creator: “Do not create me,” because he sees neither wisdom, consolation, justice, nor mercy in this rejection.
Rather, having a good opinion of the Creator becomes necessary within this vision. If a person cannot think well of the one he believes to be the source of his existence, then the meaning of existence itself becomes disturbed.
From here comes acceptance of existence.
Acceptance does not mean that everything in life is perfect; rather, it means that a person does not view his existence as a mistake that should be avenged.
Love of Existence and Love of the Body
Love of existence does not mean blind attachment to life; it means accepting one’s presence within existence.
A person may not love every place or every state, but he can love his own existence and see that this existence deserves to be lived.
Therefore, the body becomes an object of gratitude rather than an object of revenge.
The body struggles against nothingness, and its organs work continuously. If a person contemplates the work of his heart and all his other organs, he finds a complete system working for his survival.
The body does not work against him; it works for him.
Here, acceptance of the body becomes a form of acceptance of creation.
From Programming to Complete Peace
In the end, all these ideas return to one point: the original programming is what makes existence possible, and harmony with it is what makes existence peaceful.
If the programming is sound, a person does not need constant anxiety or to think about every small movement. His actions become more automatic, more intelligent, and more harmonious.
But if the programming is disturbed, a person is forced to think and plan everything, and remains in a state of constant resistance.
Therefore, the goal is not freedom from all programming, but reaching a level at which the programming itself becomes intelligent, fast, and beneficial to the human being, to the point that he is no longer forced to struggle against his existence.
He does not want to be “programmed without thinking” in the sense of rigidity; rather, he wants to reach a state in which the original programming becomes more efficient than the confused planning that consumes him.
Programming that works in your favor gives you peace, while programming that works against you becomes a source of suffering.
Conclusion: Living the Program That You Are
Perhaps the greatest paradox is that a human being sometimes suffers because he believes he needs freedom from every constraint, while what he may actually need is to find the constraint that agrees with his existence and choose it willingly.
Existence itself is distinction, boundaries, and programming.
The body is a boundary.
Language is programming.
The relationship between male and female is based upon separation and meeting.
Faith completes the incomplete part of the human being.
Bliss is an abundance of choices.
Hell is the deprivation of the tools of choice.
The veil preserves the differences that make meeting possible.
Coherent speech reveals the system of its speaker.
The search for the Creator reveals the created being’s awareness of his own limits.
Acceptance of existence is, ultimately, acceptance of the program that made existence possible.
Therefore, the greatest thing a human being can reach, according to this conception, is not to escape programming, but to understand it, return to its origin, and make it work in his favor.
If existence is a program, then bliss is the ability to run this program in harmony.
If suffering is continuous bleeding, then peace is stopping the bleeding.
If hell is the absence of choices, then bliss is for another possibility to always remain before you.
And if the human being exists because of programming, then the completion of his existence does not come from fighting programming, but from understanding the original programming and living within it consciously.
Then the constraint is no longer merely a constraint, the veil is no longer merely a veil, the body is no longer merely a body, and language is no longer merely speech; rather, they all become different faces of one thing: the system of existence that makes a thing what it is, separates one existent from another, and then grants it the possibility of meeting the other.
Here complete peace becomes not the absence of programming, but its completion.

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