As we explore spiritual concepts with children, youth and adults, we don’t only develop more spiritual habits—we also begin to find our own self-worth.

Society often gives material qualities excessive value, measuring an individual’s worth by physical appearance, social status, wealth or education, and forgetting the spiritual qualities—the things that make a person who they really are, beyond their material situation.

Is it surprising, then, that so many people suffer from low self-worth, develop toxic coping mechanisms, or are afflicted with a chronic tendency to self-deprecate? When few people value our spiritual strengths, and material qualities—often beyond our control—solely define us, it’s easy to feel like we amount to nothing in life.

This syndrome particularly affects children and youth, whom society often doesn’t even recognize as active members capable of contributing to its progress, but rather leaves at the margins until they are old enough to be deemed “complete.”

Helping Young People Find Self Worth

As a children’s class teacher, junior youth group facilitator, and frequent participant in youth gatherings, I have seen the effect these harmful beliefs can have on people of all ages. But I have also seen the power the Baha’i writings exert in helping us overcome our own misconceptions about ourselves. They allow us to see ourselves as spiritual beings worthy of love and happiness.

Baha’u’llah, the founder of the Baha’i Faith, wrote:

O Son of Being! Thou art My lamp and My light is in thee. Get thou from it thy radiance and seek none other than Me. For I have created thee rich and have bountifully shed My favor upon thee. – Baha’u’llah, The Hidden Words, p. 6.

I’ve studied this deep quotation with students in the children’s class I teach every weekend. My students, generally between the ages of 8 and 10, are at a stage in their lives where they are becoming more and more aware about the realities of the world around them. This metaphor that Baha’u’llah uses, of our bodies as lamps and our souls as lights, perfectly enables conversations about self-worth and how we see ourselves.

I ask the children: if you borrowed a toy from a friend, would you treat it any differently than you would treat the toy if it were your own? Then, if we have a light within us that belongs to God, and that light is the soul, how does our impression of ourselves change?

Usually, children already know the importance of caring for things that belong to others. While we’re often careless with our own possessions, having something that belongs to someone else brings on a sense of responsibility.

One of my students is ten years old, and she has already witnessed the toxic effect school and media expectations have on girls’ impressions of themselves and their bodies. Teased by others for being somewhat overweight, her doctor recently informed her that she should improve her diet. This topic brought up an important conversation in the class about how we perceive ourselves in relation to our bodies. Our bodies are an important tool, but they are not who we are. Did she want to lose weight to improve her health, or because she felt there was something wrong with her?

How Finding Self Worth Can Improve Self Esteem

In the same way that being considered attractive or wealthy does not equal being a good person, things we perceive as flaws in our material selves have no bearing on our spiritual nature. With the children, we reflect on how we would speak of ourselves as an outsider: would we tell a friend that they are stupid or ugly, or that they would never be good at math or reading? Of course not, they said. Then why do we sometimes think those things about ourselves?

If we are lamps that belong to God, there is no room in our lives for self-deprecation. Neither can we waste the talents or opportunities we have—we must care for this light that does not belong to us, and make sure we do all the good we can with it, so that it fulfills its role in society.

We also study this quotation in junior youth groups, where the conversation can go a little deeper. If we care for our souls, we ask, then we should not expose ourselves to situations that endanger them. We wouldn’t hang out with friends that do drugs or commit crimes any more than we would set a friend’s puppy loose on a street with heavy traffic. We make an effort to strengthen our talents and pursue interesting opportunities, because we want our light to shine—not be extinguished.

Some years back, at a youth gathering, we were studying the writings of Baha’u’llah with friends from high school and early college. We read this quote:

O Son of Bounty! Out of the wastes of nothingness, with the clay of My command I made thee to appear, and have ordained for thy training every atom in existence and the essence of all created things. Thus, ere thou didst issue from thy mother’s womb, I destined for thee two founts of gleaming milk, eyes to watch over thee, and hearts to love thee. Out of My loving-kindness, ’neath the shade of My mercy I nurtured thee, and guarded thee by the essence of My grace and favor. And My purpose in all this was that thou mightest attain My everlasting dominion and become worthy of My invisible bestowals. – Baha’u’llah, The Hidden Words, p. 32.

One girl in the group, after reading the quote, became very thoughtful. She told us she had had a very difficult childhood, and had often been angry at God for forgetting her and allowing her to face all those hardships at such a young age. But after reading the quote, she suddenly felt at peace. Her life had been far from perfect, but she was still here, because she had had exactly what she had needed to make it this far. That in itself was a success. “God was with me the whole time,” she said.

The Baha’i writings make it clear that as humans we have severely underestimated our own value. For children, youth and even adults, reading and reflecting on these teachings helps us stop holding ourselves back, and instead dedicate the light within all of us to the betterment of humankind.

Humans love the idea of exploring the vastness of the universe and finding evidence of life on other planets. So how much do we really know about it?

To date, NASA has discovered more than 3700 “exoplanets”—those likely to support life as we know it—and 2700 planetary systems. The search for more of these worlds continues, because at least a hundred billion galaxies exist, and each galaxy is full of stars. Do the math yourself!

So far, Earth is the only planet we know of that harbors life—but recently, the field of astrobiology made a breakthrough when it found ancient organic matter on the surface of Mars. The findings on the red planet definitely boost our quest in the search for life beyond Earth, since Mars is just one planet in this vast universe.

So the million dollar question still remains: Is anybody out there? Is there any end to this limitless universe? This is not a question of idle fancy. Carl Sagan, the renowned American astronomer, once said “Space exploration leads directly to religious and philosophical questions.”

The Baha’i teachings say:

Witness the wondrous evidences of God’s handiwork, and reflect upon its range and character. – Baha’u’llah, Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, p. 162.

Baha’is understand that the universe is full of mysteries and unanswered questions for us to explore. The more we explore, the more amazement we experience. This limitless universe is not just a fixed number of years old, the Baha’i teachings say, but very, very ancient. The prophet and founder of the Baha’i Faith, Baha’u’llah, wrote:

The learned men, that have fixed at several thousand years the life of this earth, have failed, throughout the long period of their observation, to consider either the number or the age of the other planets. Consider, moreover, the manifold divergencies that have resulted from the theories propounded by these men. Know thou that every fixed star hath its own planets, and every planet its own creatures, whose number no man can compute. – Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, p. 163.

Many schools of thought, both scientific and religious, debate the idea of life beyond Earth. So far, we have little evidence to prove that such life exists—but remember, lack of evidence doesn’t prove non-existence. Humanity continues amassing that evidence in its scientific and spiritual quest to discover whether we’re truly alone in the universe or not, and the Baha’i teachings say that we will continue to progressively and scientifically advance, which means one day we may encounter those other creatures Baha’u’llah referred to in the quote above. We will only know the nature of these extra-terrestrial beings with further advancements in science.

One of the important tenets of the Baha’i Faith is the harmony of science and religion—which compels many Baha’is to expand the world’s consciousness on these hidden mysteries in our search after truth. We may be very close or very far from this breakthrough discovery—but it will happen at some point. Our efforts will not be in vain because “All men have been created” as the Baha’i teachings say, “to carry forward an ever-advancing civilization.” – Baha’u’llah, Gleanings from the Writings of Baha’u’llah, p. 215.

While that important scientific research continues, now more than ever we Earthlings should first aim to achieve planetary unity here at home. That Baha’i principle—the unification of all people into one human family and all nations into one global government—constitutes the most powerful solution for addressing the critical issues of human life. Later, if we do establish contact with our galactic neighbors, then our next goal could be inter-planetary unity.

The essential unity of humanity transcends barriers of nationality, religion, or race, in the same way this mighty universe is guided by the physical laws that govern the Earth. Baha’u’llah reminds us, regardless of the nature of any potential extra-terrestrial beings, we are all guided by the same spiritual law, which asks us to recognize and love the Creator of our vast universe:

O Son of Man! Wert thou to speed through the immensity of space and traverse the expanse of heaven, yet thou wouldst find no rest save in submission to Our command and humbleness before Our Face. – Baha’u’llah, The Hidden Words, p. 13.

Dear God,

I know I said those prayers asking to have a pure heart and to be a happy and joyful being and told you that I would no longer be full of anxiety nor let trouble harass me, but I think having fibromyalgia and post-traumatic stress disorder at the same time is a bit much.

Seriously, I’m not up for this.

Can I have a redo please? Something like a mild case of pink eye? Then I can take medication that actually works like it’s supposed to, and heal very quickly.

With all my love,

Kimberly

I know you’ve heard the adage “be careful what you pray for.” On the other hand, having the opportunity to know myself on a different level has turned into a fascinating adventure. With my own childhood rape trauma and the resultant health-related challenges trying and testing me severely, it became vital to embrace my difficulties and look deeply within myself to find the answers:

Meditate profoundly, that the secret of things unseen may be revealed unto you, that you may inhale the sweetness of a spiritual and imperishable fragrance, and that you may acknowledge the truth that from time immemorial even unto eternity the Almighty hath tried, and will continue to try, His servants, so that light may be distinguished from darkness, truth from falsehood, right from wrong, guidance from error, happiness from misery, and roses from thorns. – Baha’u’llah, The Book of Certitude, p. 8.

Our society offers us an enormous number of “how to” self-help books and lots of research about dealing with our emotions. I had to learn, though, that my own feelings were right there in front of me. I could clearly understand what the books and the research said about emotion–but I had difficulty internalizing it. My emotional processes had become quite tangled up, because of well-established dysfunctional patterns of thought and behavior that probably began in childhood.

Finding a competent psychologist to aid me in investigating my emotions became essential to healing my mind and body. As I’ve progressed, I have come to better understand the importance of focusing on my own behaviors, and I’ve discovered how emotion is an integral part of me, as well as an avenue for training of self.

There are still times when I’m working with my counselor that I engage in blame, going on and on about what so-and-so did to me and how much it hurt my feelings and I’m so angry/hurt/sad now and I want them to suffer!

Then, my very kind and patient counselor says, “What about you Kim? This time is for you, let’s talk about you.” Inside my head I’m thinking, “No, I don’t want to talk about me. I want you to tell me how horrible those other people are and make them change!”

Maybe you know what I mean.

Although I wish I could get away with finger-pointing, simply because I’m attached to my anger and hurt, I love having a counselor who happens to be a Baha’i. He’s quite knowledgeable about the Baha’i Faith and its teachings, and understands my commitment to living a spiritually-fulfilled life. He helps me to remember that when I forget my own faults and focus on other people’s faults and backbite about them I am really only hurting myself:

Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things. –Romans 2:1.

Baha’u’llah further clarifies:

O peoples of the world…observe that which will elevate your station. Hold fast to the fear of God and firmly adhere to what is right. Verily I say, the tongue is for mentioning what is good, defile it not with unseemly talk. – Tablets of Baha’u’llah, p. 219.

Breathe not the sins of others so long as thou art thyself a sinner. Shouldst thou transgress this command, accursed wouldst thou be, and to this I bear witness. – The Hidden Words, p. 10.

Well, that’s pretty clear. There’s no escaping it. I have to be responsible for my own stuff, focus on it instead of other people’s stuff. The good news? The more I learn, the less time it takes me to turn toward my own emotions and resulting behaviors when I get stuck in blame.

This is the second segment of my answer to my atheist comrade “Maynard’s” question as to the existence of the spiritual which, I believe, is quite literally supernatural.

Religion has given us a good term for the immeasurable, supernatural element which causes us to consider abstract non-material things real, manipulate our environment, do things nature did not provide us with the material or physical capacity to do, and imagine things that we can only surmise by inference: the rational soul.

Know, verily, that the soul is a sign of God, a heavenly gem whose reality the most learned of men hath failed to grasp, and whose mystery no mind, however acute, can ever hope to unravel. It is the first among all created things to declare the excellence of its Creator, the first to recognize His glory, to cleave to His truth, and to bow down in adoration before Him. If it be faithful to God, it will reflect His light, and will, eventually, return unto Him. If it fail, however, in its allegiance to its Creator, it will become a victim to self and passion, and will, in the end, sink in their depths. — Baha’u’llah, Gleanings LXXII, p 159

This essential human element causes us to struggle for contentment that other animals accept as a matter of course. It prompts most of us to distinguish ourselves from those other animals by our behavior. It also makes us accountable for behavior that in any other animal would be considered natural, but in us is considered inhuman, unnatural, immoral. It’s not a sin for an animal — even one as nearly related to us as a chimp — to kill and eat its neighbor’s young.

What causes us to feel, even those of us who reject religion, faith and God outright, that it’s inhuman to kill other people’s children (or our own) when other animals have no such reservations? The rational soul.

The way Scripture describes this chip off the divine Block — and its function — accounts for the conflict in the lives of humans better than any purely material theory I’ve seen advanced. It also accounts for our apparent obsession with the idea of God (however one wishes to define that entity). This rational soul makes us miserable animals. We struggle to live by the laws God gives us to keep us from acting like animals, in an attempt to protect our best selves from our worst selves.

Most of us believe it is wrong to steal, kill, and harm other beings. Many of us — perhaps even most of us — try to live by those laws because the alternative horrifies us. We even concern ourselves with the emotional and physical state of our food because we care for other animals. We nurture plants, and not just for their food value, but because their growth brings us joy.

Humans balance between two identities — the animal-physical and the rational-spiritual. I think most humans understand that — whatever we call this component that makes us seek intellectual, emotional and spiritual well-being as opposed to mere physical contentment — we cannot go back to the fields:

All men have been created to carry forward an ever-advancing civilization. The Almighty beareth Me witness: To act like the beasts of the field is unworthy of man. Those virtues that befit his dignity are forbearance, mercy, compassion and loving-kindness towards all the peoples and kindreds of the earth…. — Baha’u’llah, Gleanings CIX, p 215

And also, because Maynard asked, I should note that Baha’is do not believe in reincarnation or in a physical resurrection, but instead in the eternal progress of the soul:

And now concerning thy question regarding the soul of man and its survival after death. Know thou of a truth that the soul, after its separation from the body, will continue to progress until it attaineth the presence of God, in a state and condition which neither the revolution of ages and centuries, nor the changes and chances of this world, can alter. — Baha’u’llah, Gleanings, LXXXI, p. 156

Of this essential piece of the human being, Krishna said: “It is God’s spirit in man”, the authors of Genesis said we were created “in God’s image”, and Baha’u’llah said that

“He hath known God who hath known himself.”

If true, this makes self-knowledge critical to human existence — most especially to a human existence that will someday be free of the conflict between our natural and supernatural selves.

Read the previous article in the series: Do You Believe that You Have a Soul?

O ye loving mothers, know ye that in God’s sight, the best of all ways to worship Him is to educate the children and train them in all the perfections of humankind; and no nobler deed than this can be imagined. – Abdu’l-Baha, Selections from the Writings of Abdu’l-Baha, p. 138.

When I read this quote, I have two main reactions. I feel so blessed to be a mother and to serve God through this exalted role. I am honored to spend my days raising my two- and four-year old sons, teaching them how to care for themselves and others, helping them explore the world, and creating opportunities for them to discover what is important in life. If I can raise them as whole-hearted individuals who find opportunities to make a difference in the lives of those around them, I know I will do a great service to humankind.

RELATED: Prenatal Exercises for Our Second Birth

However, I also feel confronted by the lack of alignment that our current society has with the central themes in the quotation. The quotation expresses a deep respect and love for mothers and upholds the nobility of motherhood with very high regard. Society, on the other hand, does not offer the same sentiments for this role which is, in fact, a full time profession for many women around the world.

Let’s take a look at motherhood compared to most other jobs. As a mother, I receive no training for my job. I am not paid. In many countries I would not have access to healthcare or benefits. I will receive no degrees or “work experience” that can help me find employment in the future. And, most importantly to my personal wellbeing, I have no everyday support: no coffee breaks, no work functions to look forward to, no on-the-job training when the demands get harder, no raises, no promotions, and no other job incentives that help me to feel appreciated for my continual labors.

I am sure many individuals in society may agree with the premise of the quotation, acknowledging that mothers teach the future generation and guide them to take an active role in human society. But what does society do to help mothers, to encourage them, to train them and to allow them succeed in their crucial role?

Many mothers are thrust into motherhood without even knowing how to change a diaper, what it takes to respond to a baby’s cries, make informed decisions about a healthy diet, create a safe environment, offer educational opportunities, or deal with the emotional results of becoming a mother. Why? Because we assume mothers should learn all this for themselves. Do we expect other professionals to learn it all alone? No. If you have trouble as a mom, you are left to your own devices and to those you find who are willing to support you.

The words in this quotation force me to recognize that the spiritual reality of my job as a mother is not equally respected by the world I live in today. What can I do about it? I believe I can learn how to do the best at my job without comparing myself to worldly standards. I believe I can take heart in the labor of love I am undergoing every day, assured of the spiritual responsibilities I am fulfilling. I believe I can look within for my job incentives instead of expecting rewards from outside.

But I also believe I can teach others about the reality of motherhood, as an extremely important job worthy of respect, and work towards a society where mothers have more support.

To the mothers who struggle with the false dichotomy of motherhood and “real work”:

• Can we create more free, accessible and current educational opportunities for new mothers?
• Can we arrange childcare options between ourselves, so that we do not have to rely on full time daycare or very expensive nanny services?
• Can we combine to form a community of supportive mothers who help each other meet the high emotional demands of raising a family?
• Can we spiritually educate and nourish children in the entire neighborhood instead of focusing only within the walls of our own house?

Many mothers do these things. They reach out to neighbors in need. They teach Baha’i children’s classes focused on spiritual education to children in their communities. They involve their children in acts of service to the elderly, to the ill, and for the environment. They create opportunities for their children to make a difference in the world.

Once a new generation of children realizes just how empowered they were – learning by example and encouragement from their own mothers – I believe the station and support of mothers, on the part of society, will change for the better.

This quotation reminds me to take heart in the spiritual services I am offering the world, and to remember how much I can make a difference, just by being a mom.

Before we can study the central issues of life today, we must destroy the prejudices and fallacies born of previous centuries. – Leo Tolstoy

The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself. – Friedrich Nietzsche

In order to find truth we must give up our prejudices, our own small trivial notions; an open receptive mind is essential… It also means that we must be willing to clear away all that we have previously learned, all that would clog our steps on the way to Truth; we must not shrink, if necessary, from beginning our education all over again. We must not allow our love for any one religion or any one personality so to blind our eyes that we become fettered by superstition. When we are freed from all these bonds, seeking with liberated minds, then shall we be able to arrive at our goal. – Abdu’l-Baha, quoted in J. E. Esselmont’s Baha’u’llah and the New Era, p. 201.

The first step on any seeker’s path always begins by looking within. No true spiritual search commences without the exploration and understanding of the self.

The modern world has given most of us the ability to investigate the truth and decide what to believe for ourselves. In the not-so-distant past, before the advent of literacy, widespread education and universally available knowledge, humanity needed clergy, guides, gurus, priests and divines to transmit learning, wisdom and spiritual insight. Now each of us has the capacity and the responsibility to conduct our own search for knowledge and inner meaning, and become our own guide on the seeker’s path.

Genuine inner development as a human being requires the progressive achievement of more encompassing, more effective and more aware kinds of thinking and feeling–and that means detaching from your old tradition or your old mindset or your old philosophy of life as you embark on a search for new meaning and growth. This isn’t easy. Baha’u’llah wrote that exploring the self can produce conflict:

On this plane, the self is not rejected but beloved; it is well-pleasing and not to be shunned. Although at the beginning, this plane is the realm of conflict, yet it endeth in attainment to the throne of splendor. – Baha’u’llah, The Four Valleys, p. 50.

Detaching from tradition seems simple for the most adventurous among us; but for some it could be threatening. It can involve creating some distance from established, comfortable ways of looking at life, from familial cultures, even from psychological patterns. And it may leave us with an unfamiliar temporary rootlessness, a sense of feeling disconnected from our old lives. Searching for your true self can raise major questions—but after all, the root word of questions is quest.

All maturation and growth brings about those un-anchored feelings, so every spiritual wayfarer risks going through them. Never content to pursue a course just because parents or ancestors did, true seekers set themselves free to follow a unique map with a liberated mind. The great scholar of myth Joseph Campbell describes this stage of detachment and search in mythical and psychological terms:

The first step, detachment or withdrawal, consists in a radical transfer of emphasis from the external to the internal world, macro- to microcosm, a retreat from the desperations of the waste land to the peace of the everlasting realm that is within. But this realm, as we know from psychoanalysis, is precisely the infantile unconscious. It is the realm that we enter in sleep. We carry it within ourselves forever. All the ogres and secret helpers of our nursery are there, all the magic of childhood. And more important, all the life-potentialities that we never managed to bring to adult realization, those other portions of ourself, are there; for such golden seeds do not die. If only a portion of that lost totality could be dredged up into the light of day, we should experience a marvelous expansion of our powers, a vivid renewal of life. – The Hero with a Thousand Faces, p. 17.

So this map you have begun to discover and create can direct you down a hard road. It could take you over some difficult, rocky terrain. Unearthed obstacles, some buried for years, will rise up and challenge you. You might decide, as your journey progresses, to risk the displeasure of parents or children or spouse or peers or even your culture by challenging your own current ideas or ideology or view of life or beliefs. You may court alienation or disappointment by leaving traditional values or home or old principles to pursue a different course in your work or in your studies and interests, by developing new philosophies, new standards, new convictions. In The Seven Valleys, Baha’u’llah outlines the requirements of this sort of unfettered search:

The steed of this Valley is patience; without patience the wayfarer on this journey will reach nowhere and attain no goal… It is incumbent on these servants that they cleanse the heart–which is the wellspring of divine treasures–from every marking, and that they turn away from imitation, which is following the traces of their forefathers and sires, and shut the door of friendliness and enmity upon all the people of the earth. – Baha’u’llah, The Seven Valleys, p. 4.

Are you willing? Can you detach enough from the opinions and convictions of others to truly value, own and inhabit your real inner self? The hard part happens right here, because the tests and trials of the true seeker always center around the inner struggle to confront the old self and bring a new one to life.

Exploration and search foster growth and change–which may be why so few people truly undertake a deep, searching and fearless inventory of their own lives, and then set out to alter them. Despite the wonder and joy in it, search always challenges our assumptions, requires risk and asks us to grow.

A rather dramatic storm occurred in the early afternoon of July 9th, 1850, in the land of the Lion and the Sun. Although there are no meteorological records to confirm the fact, independent historical accounts agree that this storm swept across the length and breadth of Persia. In the north, a gale of exceptional severity accompanied by a whirlwind of dust clouded the city of Tabriz. In the south, the storm ripped tent poles out of their sockets and scattered servants down the hillside where Lady Mary Sheil, with her husband and her infants, had taken refuge from the scorching summer heat of the capital, Tehran. She was so frightened that she described the experience in Glimpses of Life and Manners in Persia, her memoirs published by John Murray six years later. In her entry for July 1850, she writes:

One afternoon a storm came on, accompanied by such a deluge of rain as I never before had seen. In a few minutes the tent was filled with water, and the air became nearly dark. Suddenly a rumbling and very appalling sound was heard; it increased, it approached, it roared, and shouts and yells went forth the whole length of the valley. We rushed in terror out of the tent into the drenching rain; I, at least, ignorant of the nature of the convulsion. Down it came, bellowing and pealing like the loudest thunder. … We groped about in the dark, not knowing where to go, or from what quarter the danger had come.

Her records make no mention of the mysterious episode that heralded this freak storm, in the northern capital of Tabriz. Her husband’s official dispatches to Lord Palmerston naturally refer to it, but as wife of Britain’s Envoy Plenipotentiary, Lady Mary avoided controversial subjects. And this was definitely one of them. That same day, just hours before the unprecedented tempest swept through the land, a young Siyyid from Shiraz, claiming to be the return of the Promised Qa’im and condemned to death for heresy by the mullahs, was trussed up on ropes and hung on a nail on the wall of the barracks. I will not dwell on what occurred next. Those who know, need no repetition; those who do not, may rightly feel this digression has already gone on for too long. But I can assure you, that although they soon forgot it, many present at the time believed they witnessed a miracle that day. The rest of us, if we prefer, may assume it was an atmospheric accident. Suffice it to say that in the aftermath of this strange occurrence, with all the inhabitants of Tabriz amassed on nearby roof tops to see the Siyyid-i-Bab, shot at close range for claiming that a new age was destined to replace the old, the light of the sun was blotted out, the day turned to night, and the land was plunged into Biblical darkness for several hours.

More than a century and a half later, in 2026, at a time when, if the news is anything to go by, we seem to be plunged in Biblical darkness once more, a book has been launched on this very same day: July 9th. Although it can hardly be blamed for the political atmospherics of our times, Open Wide the Doors, published by Oneworld in the UK, is also a memoir, but not of the wife of an ambassador. It was written by a prisoner, an ordinary Iranian woman abducted in Mashhad and kept in solitary confinement for believing that a new age was indeed destined to replace the old. A strange coincidence. Is it not a chilling thought that one hundred and seventy-six years after the precursor of the Baha’i Faith was shot, those in Iran who believe in the Bab’s message today are still in danger of being convicted for apostasy and trumped-up allegations of espionage? Mahvash Sabet is one of them, one of the Yaran, the seven prominent Baha’is arrested in 2008 and condemned to twenty-year sentence in 2010 for their faith. She dared to write about it, dared to scribble her memoirs in prison, and by a small, serendipitous miracle her book has just been launched when millions of Baha’is the world over remember the Bab.

TThis is not, Mahvash would insist, because she is in any way special. She is just an ordinary woman, a wife and a mother, who was a teacher and school principal before losing her job in 1979, when the Islamic Republic came into power. Nor, she would assure you, is she the only Iranian since then who has recorded the horrors of incarceration and torture. Prison memoirs, unfortunately, abound. The publisher of Mahvash’s book has already brought out six of them to date, but there has to be a hook, apart from the catalogue of misery, for them to sell. For example, the most famous to be released this year is by the Nobel prize winner, Narges Mohammadi. Another, the prison correspondence of an equally well-known human rights lawyer, Nasrin Sotoudeh is also eagerly anticipated. All these brave women shared time together in the infamous Section 209 of the prison of Evin; they all encouraged each other to write about what was happening to them. And other women, equally brave and sharing their cells, helped to smuggle these precious notes, scribbled surreptitiously in margins of books and scraps of paper, out of the prison to safety. The publication of any one of these memoirs by women in the prisons of Iran is frankly a vindication and a victory for them all.

But despite this Pyrrhic victory, and the dangerous conditions risked in their writing, the blood and sweat expended in sharing their words with the world, I have been reliably informed, by those in the know, that prison memoirs, even of the internationally famous, suffer relatively short lives and poor sales. Such precipitous mortality is not only due to the perilous state of contemporary publishing either: it is, according to my knowledgeable informant, the fault of the authors. Those who remain in Iran obviously cannot undertake book tours and sign copies, participate on talk shows and have interviews. In other words, they fail to become the necessary commodity to market their books. This failure is especially true in the case of Mahvash. She has chosen to remain in Iran because she is a Baha’i. Despite loss of home, economic collapse, imminent drought and never-ending war, she is still in Iran, at the risk of her life. And her book is dedicated to the people of Iran.

If her story is remembered, therefore, it must be for some other reason that its being a prison memoir. We have become numbed, alas, even before the body bags, to such heartbreaking reports from Iran. The psychological and emotional effects of white torture are well known. Hours of relentless interrogation followed by ruthless beatings, physical torment, and rape are just a few of the crimes recorded by political prisoners held by the IRGC. The cramped conditions, the egregious lack of sanitation and food, the gang warfare incited by guards to keep the inmates in a state of permanent terror, particularly in the provincial prisons, have been repeatedly documented. So what does Mahvash Sabet have to offer us that is different? Is there nothing but its publication date that distinguishes this book?

I must assure you, that despite the historic events associated with it, this is not a Baha’i book per se. Mahvash did not publish her memoirs to tell the Baha’is what they already know. Nor did she wish to write a book that could be seen as “propaganda” by her dear compatriots, wary as they naturally are, after forty-seven years under a theocratic regime, of anything smacking of religious-seeming hype. Although her every word shines with the light of her Faith and is influenced by the teachings of its founder, Baha’u’llah, she is not trying to convince or to convert. Her memoirs are simply a record of what happened to her and what she learned; she is sharing this story because she knows it to be a common one, experienced by others, lived by many. Her book is intended to touch hearts, to reach readers from all backgrounds and all cultures. It is an everywoman’s story.

That said, it does have a special resonance for Baha’is. I would hazard that few Baha’i records exist, written by individuals experiencing conditions of equal stress and isolation, that explore so honestly the accusations of those who attack this Faith, and express so beautifully how to defend it. Perhaps the only comparison might be found in the letters of Keith Ransome Kehler, written the early 1930’s to the Guardian of the Baha’i Faith, describing her failed attempts to appeal for the emancipation the Iranian Baha’is from the persecutions being inflicted on them under the Pahlavi regime. But most of us, when we are attacked for our beliefs, or try to defend them, do not attempt to write about the experience. Perhaps this is because we now have access, through sites like the Archives of Baha’i Persecution in Iran, to the carefully compiled documents which demonstrate far better than we can ourselves, the falsehoods and distortions levelled against our community over the past century. Perhaps it is also because we have an equal number of clear and eloquent statements prepared by the Baha’i International Community and other institutions of our Faith, which lay out carefully and systematically the ground on which such accusations are baseless and where they distort the truth.

But in 2008, in the grey walled Detention Centre of the Ministry of Intelligence in Mashhad, and later in the padded interrogation rooms in Section 209 of Evin Prison in Tehran, Mahvash did not have recourse to such advocacy. She was alone and at the mercy of an unseen interrogator who prowled up and down behind her, breathing heavily. There she sat, day after day, blindfold on a chair, with her face to the wall with this man throwing insults at her back. There she sat, enduring foul-mouthed attacks against her beliefs for up to seventeen hours at a stretch, as he hurled questions at her. And for almost six months, she had to reply to this unseen man. Summoning every shred of courage and mental acuity in her possession, she had to answer him, clearly, cogently, and courteously.

Her memoirs are a record of these questions and the history of her answers. They are literally the anatomy of a defence: the defence of her Faith, which as the story unfolds, it becomes evident is the defence of everyone’s faith – faith in our freedom, faith in our future, and faith in humanity itself. The questions she is asked reflect the many misconceptions held by officials of the Islamic Republic about the Baha’i community, the many accusations they level against it based on fear, suspicion and paranoia. They illustrate the wilful distortion of facts, the determined misrepresentation of history used to denounce the Baha’is as political operatives, fifth columnists, spies. And as Mahvash attempts to qualify these allegations, correct these falsifications, we begin to understand that she is defending us all against everything that undermines hope and denies truth, everything that is negative, cynical, and corrosive of trust. She re-interprets words, widens definitions. When her interrogator takes concepts out of context and pits opinions against facts, she emphasizes underlying principles to broaden the discussion. When his questions provoke doubt and try to incite division, she offers answers that are conciliatory and inclusive. He insists on contradictions; she highlights complementarities. To each of the allegations he throws at her, Mahvash responds calmly; to each charge she answers with admirable restraint. Only in one instance, when he finally curses the very core of her beliefs and denigrates the central covenant of her existence, does she react with outrage and raise her voice. That is the spiritual climax of this story.

What emerges from these gruelling interrogations is not only a study of quiet resilience and shining integrity, but also a portrait of leonine courage. This is because Mahvash does the interrogating too. Not overtly of course, but in the freedom of her mind. She questions the injustice and corruption of the legal system which holds her and so many others in hostage; she questions the inhumanity of the prison administration which punishes innocence and encourages corruption; she questions the sheer waste of human potential in these fetid, suffocating cells, and the cruelty that is sowing dragons seeds of trauma in a population for generations to come. Above all she identifies the ways in which the current regime has not only sought to strangle and crush the Iranian Baha’i community but has deliberately tried to punish the Baha’is for seeking ways to alleviate its own and other peoples’ suffering. And after she is finally permitted to leave the lowering presence of her belligerent interrogator, and to escape his acrid breath, his harsh, demeaning language, Mahvash continues to interrogate herself through the sleepless hours. All through the night, in the dimness of her cell which is never wholly dark and never light enough to read, she questions her reactions, agonizes over her motives, and reprimands herself for lacking wisdom. Her anguish is so familiar, her vulnerability so immediate, that as a reader you find yourself sharing the cold floor with her.

But she offers answers to us too. And her replies marvellously affirm her humanity, her compassion for her fellow prisoners, her scrupulous honesty.  Indeed, her real response to the vindicative questions posed by the interrogator are illustrated by Mahvash’s deeds and not just her words, by her extraordinary empathy, her seemingly bottomless reservoir of love for those she befriends in the prison.  Her ultimate answer to all the indignities heaped on her head is her ability to hold it even higher, to find freedom in captivity and hope in despair.  Her irony is delightfully wry too and very Persian; her sense of humour and self-mockery saves her from sentimentality.  And she wins the argument in this contest of wills, by simply being herself.  Her memoir is a remarkable testimony to the power of truth. 

That is perhaps why, in the last analysis, this book is so much more than a prison memoir, and why it seems so relevant to our times. We are in dire need of the truth. We need to distinguish it from falsehood, identify the difference between fact and fiction, reality and illusion. Like Lady Mary Sheil, we are groping in the dark – “not knowing where to go, or from what quarter the danger had come.” The freak storm that swept the wife of the British ambassador and her children down the hillside in a deluge of rain to the rocky ravine below has been gathering range and momentum since 1850. Its violence has been increasing year by year. Its course has become ever more unpredictable, its immediate effects increasingly catatrophic. “Humanity, gripped in the clutches of its devastating power, is smitten by the evidences of its resistless fury.” And today, like Lady Mary in 1850, we too “can neither perceive its origin, nor probe its significance, nor discern its outcome.”

At such time as this, when doubt has paralysed our faculties and we have lost all sight of certainty, at such a time when the roar and ravage in the world dims every distinction between right and wrong, and a mighty wind seems indeed to be “invading the remotest and fairest regions of the earth, rocking its foundations, deranging its equilibrium, sundering its nations, disrupting the homes of its peoples…¹” we need more than ever to read books like this one, by Mahvash Sabet.  

Open Wide the Doors is like a bright light, a beacon in the dark; it is the story of a very free soul in the prisons of Iran who is defending our right to believe in hope, to have faith in the future, and to live for and love the truth.

B. Nakhjavani

France

Open Wide the Doors is out now on Amazon, get your copy here.