Transcription of the Tenth Valley

The Tenth Valley 

Part One

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful. With strength drawn from the Supreme Power, we begin this session.
Hello friends, I am Hossein, a traveler, the guardian of this session.
(Hello, Hossein!)
I kindly ask that we observe 14 seconds of silence to seek refuge in the Almighty and free ourselves from our most powerful enemy—our own ignorance and unawareness.
Thank you, friends.
I now request the honorable Secretary to present a summary of the previous session and announce today’s agenda.
In the name of the Supreme Power, Allah. Hello friends, I am Fatemeh, a traveler.
(Hello, Fatemeh!)
Today, the first session of the twenty-first round is held on 91/10/19 (January 8, 2013) with the agenda of The Tenth Valley, under the leadership and guardianship of Mr. Dezhakam and with myself, Fatemeh, serving as Secretary. The session commenced precisely at 9:00 AM.
Thank you.

Thank you.
Hello, friends, I am Hossein, and I am a traveler.
(Hello, Hossein!)
Today's agenda is The Tenth Valley, which states: "Human being’s past attributes don’t remain the same because he is continuously changing."
The first thing we need to understand is: What is an attribute? Of course, most of you already know, but some may not. An attribute is the quality or characteristic of something. The thing that possesses the attribute is called the subject. In formal terms, we say an attribute describes a subject. For example, take a blackboard—the color black is its attribute, while the board itself is the subject. We don’t focus on the subject here; we are talking about its attributes.
Similarly, charcoal is always black—it is never white, green, or red. No matter where you go in the world, charcoal is black.
Or consider a fierce lion—fierceness is the attribute of the lion. A playful cat—its playfulness is its defining characteristic. A nagging woman—nagging is her attribute. A fearful person—fearfulness is their defining trait.

Well, in this case, it says:
"Human being’s past attributes don’t remain the same because he is continuously changing."
This means that past attributes may hold true for some things, but not for humans. For example, charcoal is always black—it never turns green, red, or white. When wood is burned into charcoal, it remains black. Similarly, the saltiness of seawater is a permanent characteristic. No one can make the ocean's water sweet; it will always remain salty. Or take the darkness of night—night is always dark. You cannot turn the darkness of night into the brightness of day. Likewise, daylight is always bright, and no one can change that. Another example is a lion’s ferocity—a lion is always fierce. You cannot take that attribute away from it.
So, some attributes in animals or inanimate objects remain unchanged. But when it comes to humans, it's different.
"Human being’s past attributes don’t remain the same because he is continuously changing."

This means that a person can change their attributes and characteristics in any situation. A person who is overweight is not condemned to remain overweight—they can change that attribute. A thin person can gain weight. An illiterate person can become educated. A sick person can recover. So why does this principle apply to humans? Because humans are constantly in motion. "Human being’s past attributes don’t remain the same because he is continuously changing." In other words, human beings are fluid and ever-changing.

Now, you can say that humans are ever-changing, just as existence itself is ever-flowing, and so is life. This is an important and significant point: Whatever state a person is in, their attributes can change. Now, at the beginning of this Valley, there is a message. I will read it, but I won’t explain its meaning—you must interpret it for yourself. The meaning is not difficult, but I will clarify just the first part:

The Tenth Valley:
"The city is suddenly struck by a great turmoil."
Here, "the city" mainly refers to the human body, also known as the human domain. لَا أُقْسِمُ بِهَذَا الْبَلَدِ(is an Arabic phrase from the Qur'an, Surah Al-Balad, which translates to: "I swear by this city."
This can also apply to a country, a physical city, or even the entire creation. However, in this case, it primarily refers to the human being.
"The city is suddenly struck by a great turmoil." A person is suddenly overwhelmed by distress and upheaval.
But then...
"A gentle breeze from God will soon spread across all lands, restoring greatness and well-being, and you shall benefit even more from it." Everyone sends their regards and expresses gratitude to God and the guardians for creating these connections. The guardians facilitate these connections so that all of creation may be nourished by divine mercy. At your station, you constantly feel this process of evolution and love. Those who are drawn to the mercy of the Absolute Power will ascend to a higher state. And in this journey, those who see reality, those who recognize the Straight Path, those who seek truth, righteousness, and sincerity, will surely rise and evolve.

You see true spirituality is not about performing rituals alone but about embodying divine principles in daily life. A truly spiritual person is one who speaks the truth and is honest, wishes well for others and treats them with kindness, does not gossip or backbite, does not interfere in others' private matters, does not break promises or deceive others and does not lie.
The idea is that being "divine" means living with integrity, kindness, and honesty—not just performing religious ceremonies while committing wrongdoings. A person who truly walks a divine path is loved and respected by others. Anyone who is truly divine should naturally attract the love and affection of others. People should feel drawn to them, appreciate their presence, and enjoy their words and interactions. As we have said before, faith is the reflection of God's light within a human being.
A person of faith, a true worshipper of God, should have a calm and peaceful demeanor. Their face should not be tense or unapproachable. They should not be frowning, ill-tempered, or harsh in their words.
Someone who speaks rudely to others, who is bad-tempered, who constantly criticizes and causes distress to people, who takes pleasure in hurting others—such a person cannot truly be faithful.
Faith is the manifestation of God's light within a human being.

So, when we say divine, this is what we mean. That everything in the universe may be nourished by God's mercy. In your station, friends can feel this process of growth and evolution through love at every moment. Those who are drawn to divine mercy—to the Supreme Power—will ascend; they will grow and move toward higher levels. But those who are merely indulging in worldly pleasures will gain nothing.

Some people exist only to indulge in pleasures—their fate is clear. Those who are merely preoccupied with hedonism will have no share in true growth. Do you understand what I’m saying? They are like four-legged animals searching for extra limbs to anchor themselves to the ground. Animals walk on all fours, firmly attached to the earth. Similarly, these individuals cling to materialistic pleasures—wasting time in frivolous amusements, picking fights with one person, criticizing another, constantly engaging in meaningless distractions. They behave like animals desperately seeking more legs to hold on to the physical world.
But what they fail to realize is that one does not need hands and feet to bow in prostration before God. Prostration before the Divine is not limited to a ceremonial act—placing one’s hands, feet, and forehead on the ground in a specific posture. That is a standard form of worship, and it is indeed valuable. However, true submission to God is far greater than just a ritual. Walking on the straight path itself is a form of prostration. And yet, they remain blind to this truth. They are like the blind, wandering in daylight, searching for the night. Some people spend their days looking for darkness. This can be understood in many ways. It’s like those who encounter a person filled with goodness and positive qualities—yet they insist on searching for a single flaw. They roam in broad daylight, seeking only night.

Some people, even in broad daylight, search for darkness. They see a person filled with countless positive qualities, yet they focus only on finding a single flaw. They read a well-researched scientific paper, yet they look only for its weaknesses. They examine a constructive and promising plan, yet they search only for its shortcomings. Even in a country that is progressing well, they fixate on its faults. No matter how much good exists, they ignore it. They don’t see the thousand virtues before them—they only seek out that one imperfection.
It’s like showing them a white page with a tiny black dot and asking, “What do you see?” Instead of noticing the vast whiteness, they say, “I see a black spot.” These are the people who, even in daylight, go searching for the night. This is just one interpretation of the concept. Of course, it can be understood in many different ways.
(I wasn’t planning to explain it, but I did anyway! laughs)
Like the blind, wandering in daylight, searching for the night. The one who is meant to know will know. And the one who knows will act according to what is right. The one who understands follows the will of the Divine.

Friends, hand in hand, form a circle, playing the daf, lost in dance and devotion, praising the Almighty. Some drink from the divine wine.
And so, wine isn’t just an intoxicating drink made of grapes. There is also divine wine— that which flows within us, the body's endogenous opiates, the sacred system of khamr that brings natural euphoria and clarity.
That was just the introduction. Now, it says: How beautiful is this law!
These fourteen valleys are like fourteen laws or fourteen steps of a ladder that guide a person. They are practical, applicable, and effective.
For example, we say, “Don’t lie, be truthful.” But how? There must be a method, whether it’s a spiritual approach or another practical solution, to show us the way.

So, there’s another group that believes, “If someone is a consumer, they will always remain a consumer.” But what does that mean? It goes against this law. This law is truly beautiful—and its beauty lies in its deeper meaning. Take coal, for instance—it is condemned to be black; it has no choice but to stay that way. A tiger or a lion must always be a predator—that’s their unchangeable nature. But human beings are different. That’s why this law is so profound and carries a powerful, almost mystical meaning:
“A human being’s past attributes don’t remain the same because he is continuously changing.”
This valley, this law, is like a sharp sword. And like a surgeon’s knife, it serves two purposes: It can save a life by removing a cancerous tumor. Or it can cut a vital artery and bring destruction.
This law is both a warning and a beacon of hope. That’s what makes it so powerful—it tells you: No matter where you are, you can always turn back. You are not condemned to nothingness and destruction. It speaks of both ascent and descent—a person can rise to greatness, but they can also fall into ruin. When it says, 'A human being’s past attributes don’t remain the same,' it means that if you are a bad person, you can transform into a good person, and if you are good, don’t assume you cannot change into a bad person. This law works both ways.

I might be a good, disciplined, and organized person right now, but tomorrow, I could become a drug user—there’s no guarantee. I might be a righteous and decent person today, but tomorrow, I could turn into a thief or even a murderer. I could be wealthy today and poor tomorrow. I’m young now, but one day, I’ll be old—and vice versa. I might be a child today, but tomorrow, I’ll be a grown man or woman. Human beings change.
There were people in this very country who once had legendary wealth, yet today, some of their children are struggling to find bread to eat in foreign lands. Half of Iran used to belong to them, but where are they now? Some are still around, but nothing stays the same forever. I might be at the top today, but tomorrow, I could fall.
I’ve said this many times: Forget about what you used to have. I’ve sat next to old women—ninety years old, barely able to speak—who tell me, “I was once so beautiful! When I walked, I moved like a partridge, and everyone followed me.” They say, “I was so fair-skinned, so stunning.” But that was the past. What do you have now? Lay it on the table. Don’t dwell on what once was—talk about what is. What’s gone is gone.
A person’s past attributes don’t remain the same. What matters is what you have now. This law works both ways—it can lift you up, but it can also bring you crashing down. It holds both life and death within it. It can give a person new life, or it can bring about their downfall. It can bring the living out of the dead and the dead out of the living. “He brings forth the living from the dead, and He brings forth the dead from the living.”

And ultimately, it showcases God’s grace and generosity in a person’s journey through life while beautifully placing the lines of free will in their hands, allowing them to draw their own path however they choose.
We often think of God’s mercy and compassion—when we say “In the name of God, the most beneficent the most merciful” as simply meaning that if we sin, He will forgive us. That if we make a mistake, He will say, “Alright, I forgive you.” But that’s not the full picture. His generosity is in the fact that He gave us life, that He granted us existence. His mercy is in the way He entrusted us with our own destiny. There is no compulsion—only complete free will.
Once again: It showcases God’s grace and generosity in a person’s journey through life while beautifully placing the lines of free will in their hands, allowing them to draw their own path however they choose.
In other words, you are free to shape your life as you see fit. Each of us is the one drawing the blueprint of our own existence. Others play only a minor role—the main responsibility lies with us. We must make our own decisions.
Yet, sometimes, we take a wrong turn, make a mess of things, and then blame everyone but ourselves. But this says: No. The choice is yours; the path is yours, and you must take control of your destiny. Others are not to blame.
It’s like I’ve said before: Some people complain, “Everyone laughs at my beard.” Well, maybe your beard is funny! It’s a great saying—people don’t just laugh for no reason. Not everyone is out to get you. Not everyone is against you.

I, Dezhakam, could have drawn my life the same way I did twenty years ago. And if I had, only God knows where I would be today. But I chose to move forward, and God guided me along the way. Now, I have reached this point. The same applies to you and to everyone else—there’s no difference. Each person has the power to shape their own path, however they choose.
This valley, this law, teaches a person—who teaches them? God does. It makes a person understand that the end of one point can be the beginning of another. The end of anything can mark the start of something new.
It tells us that all human beings—wherever they stand, whatever traits they carry—have the ability to change. It doesn’t matter where they are in life.
It’s like saving money. Some people say, “Saving is for those who already have money.” But no! Saving is for those who don’t have money! Those who are already wealthy don’t need to save—they have money. The same applies here: Those who are in a good place don’t need to change their traits—because they already have good ones. But we need to work on transforming ourselves.
So when we say all human beings, we mean all—no exceptions. Don’t say, “Oh, that doesn’t apply to me.” No, it applies to me, to you, to him, to her, to us, to all of you, and to them. Every single one of us.
Every human being, no matter where they stand, no matter what attributes they carry, has the ability to change—even the greatest sinner, even the most hardened criminal who has committed countless atrocities.

It emphasizes this point—even the most sinful, even the most sinful human being who has committed countless atrocities and crimes—even he can change his corrupt traits and turn back. Even he has the ability to do so. Why? Because this is a divine attribute, a quality of God Himself.
Otherwise, a person might think: “I’m already doomed to hell—what difference does it make? Whether I kill one person or a hundred, what does it matter? I’m already beyond saving. Whether I steal a penny or a fortune, it’s all the same. If I’m already drowning, what difference does one more wave make?” Or like the saying goes, “If my debt has reached a hundred, then I might as well feast on chicken and rice every night.” Meaning, “Since I’m already deep in debt, the amount no longer matters.”
But no! That is not how it works. No human being can say, “It’s too late for me. I’ve committed too many atrocities. I will never be forgiven, so I might as well keep going.” That’s simply not true.
Every human being, no matter where they stand, no matter what attributes they carry, has the ability to change—even the most sinful, even the most hardened criminal who has committed countless atrocities. He, too, can change his traits and return to the right path.
No human being is forced to carry their ugly traits forever or eternally. No one is doomed to remain in hell forever. It says this very clearly—no one is forced to remain in hell for eternity.
Nowhere have I found anything that suggests that God tells a person, “You are condemned to hell forever.” The phrase “they will remain therein” refers to being immersed in the depths of suffering, but that does not mean eternal condemnation.
The message is crystal clear: No human being is forced to carry their negative traits forever. No one is beyond redemption. No matter where a person stands, they always have the power to change.

No one is forced to remain in hell forever. Even if someone finds themselves in the deepest depths of hell, they still have complete free will—the ability to change their negative traits, to transform themselves. And if they choose to do so, God’s mercy will reach them, and gradually, they will emerge from that hell.
It says that everyone, no matter where they are, no matter how far they’ve fallen, can be embraced by God’s grace. Even those who have committed the most horrific crimes, those who are drowning in the deepest layers of hell—if they truly decide to change, if they choose to turn back, they can.
It’s not as if someone can say: “Well, I already made a mistake, so what difference does it make? I’m ruined anyway. I’m lost. I’m beyond saving.” No. That is not the case. Change is always possible—no matter how far someone has fallen.
That’s why the possibility of returning exists for everyone. Don’t make the mistake of thinking otherwise. No one can say, “It’s too late for me. I’m drowning in darkness, and there is no way out.” There is always a way out.
Any person, in any place, at any stage, has the power to change their path. Why? Because a person’s past traits are not fixed. Nothing about a human being is permanent. We are fluid, ever-changing.
If someone reaches the highest levels of paradise but their good traits turn into negative ones, they will be pulled down from that paradise into the lower realms.
Don’t think that just because you’ve entered paradise, you are eternally safe. Paradise is not a permanent guarantee. If you look at it symbolically, even in paradise, if a person starts committing mistakes, if they go against the principles of truth, they will fall from grace.
Reaching a high state doesn’t mean you’re done, that you can say, “I’ve made it! I’m safe forever.” No. A human being is in motion. We are always changing, always evolving. That’s why effort, perseverance, and continuous striving are always necessary.

So, if we reach the highest level, yet our good traits turn into negative ones, we will be pulled down from paradise into the lower realms. No matter where we are, paradise is just a symbol—mathal al-jannah—a metaphor for us to understand.
Nowhere does it say that a person can reach a certain point and then just eat, sleep, and enjoy endlessly. That’s not how it works. If you were placed somewhere where all you did was eat, sleep, and indulge yourself—maybe for a week, two weeks, three weeks—you’d eventually get sick of it. Because we are meant to be in motion, to strive, to make an effort.
Whenever our good traits turn into negative ones, we will be pulled down from paradise to the depths of hell. That’s how it is.
Imagine you worked hard to lose weight—you were once overweight, but through effort and discipline, you reached your ideal weight. Does that mean you're done? That you can now eat whatever you want, stop caring, and think, "Ah, I’ve made it! I was 120 or 150 kilos, now I’m 80, time to relax and indulge!" No! If you don’t maintain your progress, you’ll gain it all back—maybe even more. One day, you’re 80 kilos, then suddenly, you’re back to 120, or worse, 140, 150, even 300 or 400 kilos or 500 kilos! (laughter from Mr. Dezhakam)
That’s exactly how paradise works. When you reach a certain level, you must maintain it. You must protect what you have gained. If you don’t, you will fall.
And beware—Satan enters our thoughts and minds in the most beautiful, deceptive ways. That’s how he steals the essence of a person. That’s how he robs them of their true self.

We are pulled down from paradise into the lower levels of hell because human beings are in motion—everything in existence is in motion. There is nothing in this universe or beyond that remains fixed and unchanging. Why? Because the path of evolution, the path of life, is about alteration, transformation, and ultimately, revival.
From one cycle of creation to another, from the heavens to the earth, from the earth to the heavens, and back again. Or from one heaven to another, then back to earth—or even to another earth—and then back to the heavens once more.
We never cease to exist. We are never reduced to nothingness. We never were nothing to begin with. Our lifespan, compared to God’s existence, might be just a fraction less—I don’t know how much? But we will always be.
Even if we try to erase ourselves, we cannot. If we destroy the body, we still exist—somewhere else, in some other form. As Aurobindo said, the soul remains. We are travelers, moving from one place to another, from one realm to another. Until when? Until where? Until… the endless unknown. A place that cannot be pointed to with a fingertip or located with a compass. Until the **edge of eternity—**and yet, when we reach that edge, another eternity begins.
Do you even understand what I’m saying? No, of course not! (laughs) How could you?
Until where? Until the endless unknown, which cannot be mapped or measured. Until the end of eternity, which itself gives rise to another eternity. And if we want to be precise—until the end of numbers. But tell me—where is the end of numbers? Anyone? Until the point where we first branched out, and then—another journey begins. Because we are always with existence. We have always been with existence, and we will continue to be. Why? To be. To exist. For life, being, space, time, movement. Because the greatest miracle of life is life itself.

The greatest miracle of life is life itself.
We haven’t come into this world just to live for fifty or sixty years, only to be thrown into hell if we’ve sinned or placed in paradise if we’ve done good deeds. That’s not all there is—it’s just one way of looking at it. God isn’t some kind of masochist who brings us here for a few decades just to torment us in hell afterward. That’s not the purpose!
The true purpose, the greatest miracle of existence, is life itself. I mean that we cannot say existence is worthless and only the end matters—no, existence itself is one of the greatest and most important aspects of being. Life, existence, space, place, time, and every moment—all of these matter because the greatest miracle of life is life itself. Being immersed in it, observing it, experiencing all beings, sorrow, grief, sadness, joy, love, gain, loss, and ultimately, the union of opposites. Because the subtle truth is this: until you have known hatred, you will never truly grasp the meaning of love.
Being immersed in life means simply being here, in this moment—observing life, existence, trees, mountains, people, everything we are drawn to, and all living beings.
Sorrow is part of life. Sadness, grief, and pain are woven into the very fabric of existence. They are not foreign, not unnatural. They are instruments of life. Just like joy, love, gain, and loss. Ultimately, life is a union of opposites. And here lies the subtle truth:
Until you know hatred, you will never truly understand love. Until you have felt grief, you cannot grasp the depth of joy. If you have never seen darkness, how can you comprehend light?
Sorrow is an inseparable companion to life so that, through divine trials, we may come to understand the true meaning of joy. Hatred is something we must experience and recognize so that we can fully grasp the essence of love.

From the very beginning, not everyone is filled with love, joy, or laughter. These things would have no meaning or value otherwise. Right now, I have two glasses of water in front of me—one warm, in case my throat hurts, and one cold. If someone drinks both glasses, I won’t object, and no one will complain because water is available. Just turn on the tap, and there’s plenty.
But if we were stranded in the desert, dying of thirst, and someone took both glasses, would the others stay silent? That’s when the true value of water becomes clear. Here, we don’t even think about it, but in those conditions, we fully understand its worth.
Every morning, we wake up, go to the restroom, turn on the tap, take a shower, wash the dishes. Water holds no special meaning to us. But if we find ourselves in the middle of a desert with no water, only then will we truly grasp its value. The concept is the same.
Therefore, everyone must live with time. Until we know hatred, we will not grasp the meaning of love. That’s why everyone must live with time. In other words, every ending has a specific moment that has already been measured.
It is said that everyone must live with time. This doesn’t mean everyone must wear a watch or have a clock in their home. There is always a time assigned to everything in existence. Even in the next world, there is still time. Meaning, everything has an end. Every person has a moment of death—that moment is their time.

The Earth has a moment when its lifespan will end. The solar system also has a moment when it will come to an end. Everything has an ending, and that ending is its time. We, too, carry a time with us. Meaning, we keep coming and going until, at some point, it all stops. When that moment arrives, it’s over.
One of the realities of life is that everyone comes into this world alone and leaves it alone. Each person rests in their own grave. So, we must always remember this.
There is a saying from Ali ibn Abi Talib: "Live for this world as if you will live forever, and live for the afterlife as if you will die the next moment." This means you should strive and work for this world as though you will always be alive.
Some people say, "Well, I’ll die eventually, so why build a house? Why study? Why take care of my health if I’ll grow old anyway? In the end, my body will be eaten by worms and mice, so I might as well drink myself to death, smoke excessively, or destroy myself in other ways."
But life doesn’t work like that. You must live in a way that assumes you will always be here, while also remembering that tomorrow, you may no longer exist.
So, time is always with us. In this earthly world, time consists of three dimensions: space, place, and time itself.
It is said that when a person dies—when their time runs out—they immediately lose all three: time, space, and place. Anything that reaches its final hour loses these three earthly dimensions. If it exists on Earth, it loses all three, and the entire framework changes.
The end of one point marks the beginning of another line. A new path begins, with different measures, different perspectives, and entirely new things.

The ancients believed that four opposing elements—water, wind, earth, and fire—created existence. In the past, the elders used to say that these four elements were in opposition to one another. For example, wind extinguishes fire, water puts out fire, fire opposes water by turning it into steam. If you pour earth over fire, the fire goes out. If you pour earth onto water, it turns to mud. Wind carries earth away. They called these the four opposing elements and said that existence was formed from them.
Of course, later came Mendeleev’s periodic table and other elements, but in general, these four were considered fundamental. That remains true in its own place.
However, there are three other key components that not only give meaning to our physical world but also play a crucial role in the structure of other realms—whether in the heavens, the worlds beyond death, or the connections between them.
It is said that while the four elements hold their place, without these three components, our earthly world would be meaningless. Not only that, but they are fundamental to the structure of all worlds, all realms, and the connections between them. These three exist across all of being, non-being, and the void itself. Without them, neither existence nor non-existence would have any meaning.
In fact, from our perspective, non-existence itself is a form of existence—it simply has different criteria, laws, structures, and fundamental substances. When we die, we seemingly enter non-existence, yet that very non-existence is, in its own way, still a form of existence—just in a different manner.
These three fundamental components are: Light, Sound, and Sense. These three shape the entire order and system of creation.
Light governs existence; in all realms of creation, light is the commander.

It is written in the Book: "Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth." (اللَّهُ نُورُ السَّمَاوَاتِ وَالْأَرْضِ)
God is the Light of the heavens and the earth. Light is the most subtle entity we have in our world, yet we can only perceive a small portion of it—a limited spectrum. Light is not just what we see; it exists in many other forms as well.
In our world, there is nothing tangible that can move at the speed of light. If a human were to attempt to travel at that speed, they would disintegrate. Anything that tries to move at the speed of light would be reduced to dust. The speed of light is 300,000 kilometers per second. In the time it takes to say one thousand and one, light has already traveled 300,000 kilometers.
To put it into perspective, the distance from here to Mashhad is about 1,000 kilometers. In just one second, light could travel that distance 300 times back and forth. The distance from here to the sun takes approximately eight minutes for light to cover. In other words, every second, light travels 300,000 kilometers, and in a little over eight minutes, the sunlight reaches Earth.
In our physical world, no object moves faster than light. However, in other realms, there are speeds far beyond that of light.
In this world, there is nothing tangible that can travel at the speed of light. Moreover, without sunlight shining upon us, neither we nor any other living being—plants, animals, or humans—would be able to survive.
This is evident in the beauty of light’s radiance. At sunrise, light issues its command:
"Awaken, O you who have drifted away from yourself."
As the sun rises, light commands all beings of existence to rise, to wake up. "Drifted away from yourself" means that you have been absent from your body in sleep, lost in another state. Now, return—return to your body, for a new day of life has begun.
Return, so that you may transform the fire of your existence into light—through distancing yourself from vice and through purification.
For in human beings, the past is never set in stone, because life is ever-flowing. You have the power to transform your negative and destructive traits into noble and virtuous ones.

It says: "Return to your body so that you may transform the fire of your existence into light."
That fire (Naar) represents the hidden attributes of a human being. Many scholars believe that  God created jinn from fire. The verse states:
"And He created the jinn from a smokeless flame of fire." (وَخَلَقَ ٱلۡجَانَّ مِن مَّارِجٍ مِّن نَّارٍ)
"And He created man from sounding clay, like pottery." (خَلَقَ ٱلۡإِنسَٰنَ مِن صَلۡصَٰلࣲ كَٱلۡفَخَّارِ)
They say God created human beings from soil and jinn from fire. However, nowhere does God say, "I created the jinn from fire." Rather, the verse says jaan (جان), not jinn (جن). Some believe jaan is the plural of jinn, but that is incorrect. The plural of jinn is ajinna (اجنه), not jaan.
In my view, jaan refers to the hidden attributes of a human being. The apparent attributes of a human is made of clay, of earth. We all accept this—our bodies contain phosphorus, calcium, magnesium, sodium—everything that exists in the soil. But the hidden attributes of a human, the self (Nafs) is made of fire (Naar).
We’ve discussed in previous lessons that this Naar is a kind of light—but a polluted, impure light, like the flame of burning wood that produces smoke. This Naar is toxic, unrefined, dense. Through purification and evolution, this hidden attribute of a human being, along with other aspects of their existence, must gradually be cleansed, refined, and transformed into true light (Noor).
Humans are from earth—our physical bodies originate from soil. But what about our hidden attributes, our self, or even our spirit? This is precisely why I emphasize these key points—because each carries a meaning, each carries weight, each sparks debate.
Because until now, no one has said that jaan refers to the hidden attributes of a human. Everyone has assumed it refers to jinn.
"Transform the fire of your existence into light through purification and distancing yourself from vice. For in human beings, the past is ever-flowing. And you have the power to transform your negative and destructive traits into noble and beautiful ones."

Sound
And then, there is sound. In our world, we can perceive only a small portion of the sounds that exist—just as we cannot see the full spectrum of light, we cannot hear the full range of sound.
Sound plays a role in existence much like that of a telecommunications network—it carries information, knowledge, and messages, not only across the Earth but also between different realms of creation. It connects the elements of existence and nonexistence.
Think of how individual sounds, which on their own may hold no meaning, come together in sequence to create something extraordinary—to convey profound concepts, to produce music that transcends time.
The voices of human beings speaking in English, French, Russian, German, Persian; the beating of drums, the roar of cannons, the lion’s mighty growl, the whisper of the wind, the melancholic tune of a reed flute, the rhythmic pounding of a daf—what do these sounds tell us? Where do they take us? Where does thought begin to soar? How do they connect all living beings?
Without sound, there would be no connection. Without connection, there would be no life. No existence. No writing. No speech. Only absolute silence.
Thank you for listening to my words.

Translated by: Companion Marjan

3/22/2025

Part Two

In the Name of God, the Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful
With strength drawn from the Absolute Power of God, we begin this session.
Hello, friends. I am Hossein, a traveler and the session guardian.
(Audience responds: Hello, Hossein!)
I kindly ask everyone to observe fourteen seconds of silence to seek refuge in the Almighty and free ourselves from our greatest enemy—our own ignorance and unawareness.
(Fourteen seconds of silence observed)
Thank you, friends. I now request our esteemed secretary to provide a summary of the previous session and announce today’s agenda.

Hello, friends. My name is Fatemeh, and I am a traveler.
(Audience responds: Hello, Neda!)
In the name of the Absolute Power of God, today the second session of the twenty-first round of Congress 60 workshops, dated January 15th, 2013 is held with the agenda “The Tenth Valley, Part Two” from the book “14 valleys for Recovery” written in 2012. The session started under the guidance and supervision of Mr. Dezhakam and me, Fatemeh as the secretary at 9:00 a.m.
(Audience applauds)

Hello friends, I’m Hossein, a traveler.
I hope you’re all doing well. I just want to mention something that might seem minor, but is actually quite important—and that’s placing a recording device on my desk. When we teach a session like this, the recording is later edited. For example, if there’s coughing, we remove it. If something is said that, based on religious or social norms, shouldn’t be said publicly, we take it out of the recording. So, for today, it’s okay.
What I say in these sessions is in its raw form, but afterward, it’s reviewed, cleaned up a bit, and any noise or disruptions are removed. That’s how it turns into the recording that eventually reaches you—the version you listen to and benefit from.
So, I kindly ask that from next session onward, please don’t place any recording devices on my desk. We don’t want any unedited or raw recordings circulating. Thank you all very much, and God willing, this will be the case from next week and in every session going forward.

Alright, we were on the second part of the Tenth Valley, in the year 2012. Of course, this isn’t limited to just this location—at every session where I speak, people place their phones and recording devices on the desk. So what I said earlier applies to all of Congress 60, not just here.
Now, we were discussing the second part of the Tenth Valley, which says:
“A person’s past traits are not necessarily true for their present; because a human being is in motion.”
In previous discussions, we mentioned that although we may be twenty, thirty, forty, or fifty years old—or whatever age we are—there are still many things we genuinely don’t know. There are still a lot of things we simply haven’t learned. Human intellect, thought, and reasoning have both length and breadth. While our intellect may have grown in length—that is, in age—it may not have expanded in width. That’s why we often learn the most basic and essential things here in Congress 60, and over time, we begin to correct those aspects of ourselves.
Also, when I speak, I never mean any particular person. Of course, there’s a saying: “When you raise a stick, the guilty dog runs first,” but my comments are general—I’m addressing the human mind and thinking as a whole. We're analyzing the general structure of human thinking, and seeing what it has brought upon us in society.
If you want to understand what it has brought upon us, just take a look at the judiciary system. If you want to know what’s going on in any given country, just look at its courts. In some countries, even the judiciary system alone isn’t enough. Alongside it, other systems—like elder councils or tribal leaders—also have to step in. For example, in Afghanistan, both the judiciary and the tribal elders or community leaders play roles, because fundamental issues haven’t been fully addressed.
But in some developed countries, you’ll find the courts nearly empty—there’s hardly anyone there. People just don’t get involved in one another’s business. In fact, in those countries, things are so separate that if someone doesn’t have any close relatives and passes away, it could take three or four days before anyone even realizes it. Or maybe someone would notice—but still, that’s the kind of disconnection that can exist.

The point is that many of the problems we face today stem from not having learned the most basic and seemingly simple teachings. We make grand claims, but in reality, our level of understanding is quite limited. Even in friendships, we often don’t understand the proper boundaries and standards. We don’t know what the correct measures are in a marriage, between a student and a teacher, or in any kind of relationship. Sadly, we’ve lost sight of these standards—and many people have. But if we could rediscover them, it would help us immensely.
That’s exactly what these valleys are for. And they’re not just for our country—they’re for every human being. Whether someone is Russian, American, Arab, Persian, or from any other background—when they read the valleys, they find that the words are reasonable, acceptable, and practically applicable to their lives. In fact, all of these points exist in various forms in religious or classical texts—by which I mean divine scriptures. Here, we simply explore them more deeply and pay closer attention to their meaning.
Now, before we get into today’s topic, I want to read a beautiful poem by Rumi that really reflects our situation:
“He holds a thousand kinds of knowledge,
Yet he knows not his own soul, this tyrant!”
“Tyrant” here comes from zulm (oppression), implying darkness or ignorance. So, he may hold countless skills or types of knowledge, but he doesn’t know his own being.
“He knows the properties of every element,
Yet in knowing his own essence, he's like a donkey!”
He may be well-versed in everything else, yet completely lost when it comes to understanding himself. We see people like this often—brilliant in one field, but completely incapable of managing their own life, family, or emotions. Like a donkey stuck in the mud. So, knowing everything else isn’t enough—first, we must know ourselves. And this is sometimes the story of some of us.
Now, we had reached the subject of sound. We said:
“When sounds, which on their own hold no meaning, are placed one after the other—what kind of miracle occurs?”
Take the letter "A"—what does it mean alone? Nothing. "B", "C", "D"—none of them mean anything by themselves. But when they’re placed in sequence, they create meaning. They form words. That’s the miracle.
“They create meaning, they transmit concepts, and sometimes they form everlasting musical compositions.”
When musical notes are arranged in a certain way, they can stir powerful emotions or create masterpieces.
“The voices of people—whether in English, French, Russian, German, or Persian—what do they express?”
All of them are engaged in communication and expression.
“Or the beating of drums, the roar of cannons, the growl of lions, the sound of wind, the melody of a flute, the rhythmic pounding of the daf—what do they say to us?”
Each sound conveys something. Every one of them transfers a message, a feeling, a piece of information.
“Where do they take us? Where does the mind fly? How do they connect all living things?”
Sounds connect beings. Without sound, there would be no connection—no communication, no life, no writing, no speech. Just absolute silence.
So, sound is foundational—it’s the basis of life and meaning. Without it, nothing could truly form or exist. Look at the genius of the great Architect—what brilliant tools He has used!

 می‌توانیUltimately, it is speech—or sound—that says: “O human being, you are nothing but the result of your own efforts. You have full choice. If you open your heart to good words and noble sounds, you can transform your negative traits and reach peace and tranquility. So know this: past attributes do not define a human being—because a human is always in motion.”
This is where it says: “O human, you are nothing but what you strive for.”
‘Man can have nothing but what he strives for’ — Quran, Surah An-Najm, verse 39.
Each person, wherever they are in life, stands exactly where their own efforts and endeavors have taken them. When we hear these divine words, we realize how sound and true their foundations are—they’re not just empty speech.
A person is nothing. No one is anything—except what they have strived and worked for. Each of us carves out our place in the world through our own effort and persistence.
In Congress 60, we often speak about the idea that you have full control and responsibility over your life. God has given human beings complete freedom of choice. He’s made it clear: “You’re free to do whatever you want—but know the consequences. If you take this path, it will lead to hardship. If you take that path, it won’t.” He has said all of this—but still, He’s left the decision up to us.
Each one of you, right now, could climb to the rooftop and throw yourself off. You are free to do that. Or, you could pick up a brick and hit someone over the head with it. You have that freedom. You can do whatever you want.
But what happens after—that’s another matter. The point is: you have the choice to act or not to act.
And this is something we’ve always emphasized in Congress 60: freedom of will—choice—is one of the most important powers we’ve been given.

It says: “Open your heart to good sounds or noble words.”
But what are “good sounds” or “noble words”? Good sounds aren’t just anything that sounds pleasant—like someone speaking French, for instance. French might be beautiful to hear, and some languages do sound more elegant than others. But that’s not what it means.
Good sounds or noble words are the ones you can understand—the ones whose meanings reach you.
Only when you grasp the meaning can you truly open your heart to them.
And if you do, “you can change your negative traits and reach peace and tranquility.”
If you lie down at night, put your head on the pillow, and can't fall asleep, that’s a sign of a problem. Anyone who needs to rely on medication like Valium, Diazepam, or Lorazepam to sleep should know: there’s something wrong.
When a person is at peace, they put their head on the pillow and fall asleep—maybe in ten minutes, fifteen, or half an hour.
But if you can’t fall asleep, it means you're not at peace. And if you're not at peace, you’re in conflict. If you’re in conflict, you’re in ignorance.
And often, the more stubbornly someone clings to their own ideas or behaviors, the more ignorant they are—no matter how convinced they feel.
The more tightly a person grips their own flawed ways, the more destruction they bring upon themselves.
They dig in, refusing to budge, thinking “I’m right. It’s just the way I am. That’s who I am.” But in reality, they’re only harming themselves.
So it says: “You can change your negative traits and reach peace and tranquility.”
Yes, you can reach peace. But to do that, you need to change—you need to let go of those bad traits, that stubbornness, that hostility.
If you know that these things rob you of peace, then clearly they are part of the problem.
When you’re free of problems, you feel relaxed—during the day, at night, in a taxi, at home, wherever you are. You’re at peace.
But if you find yourself constantly restless, worried, or irritable, then something’s not right. You need to find out what’s bothering you—so you can begin to move toward true peace and inner calm.

So, “Know that a person’s past traits are not fixed, because human beings are constantly in motion.”
This means that a person can change their past traits. But when is that possible?
The very first step is recognizing that the problem exists.
Sometimes, a person has an issue—but they refuse to admit it.
They use drugs, but won’t accept that they’re a user.
They take bribes, but won’t admit they’re taking bribes.
They steal, but deny that it’s stealing.
They gossip behind people’s backs, but claim it’s not gossip—they call it “analysis” or give it another name.
They take bribes and say, “It’s not a bribe—it’s just a gift.”
They relabel their actions with different terms, and in doing so, they start causing even more problems.
So if you want to change a past trait, you first need to know what that trait is.
Only then will you be able to begin changing it.

Now we come to "sense":
“Sense is like God—present in all existence and non-existence, yet invisible. But it can be felt by its own kind. Or, sense is the first force that sets the power of reason into motion. Or, sense is what all creatures use to perceive existence, communicate with one another, and receive and transmit messages of light and sound.”
First of all, it says that sense is like God—it exists throughout both existence and non-existence; meaning, it’s present both in this world and the next. But it’s not something you can see.
Can you see a sense? Can you see the sense of friendship, hatred, resentment, love, or affection? Of course not. But each of them can be felt by their own kind.
Like we said in the valleys: the flutter of one mosquito is felt by another mosquito.
The beauty of a beetle or a ladybug is felt by another beetle—not by a grasshopper, not by a deer, not even by a human.
A person doesn’t really sense the beauty of a donkey—but another donkey does. That’s how it works: you need to be the same kind.
It also says that sense is the first thing that activates the mind.
Without sense, the intellect can’t function. For the mind to process or understand something, it needs inputs—maybe through the ears, through the eyes, or through taste. Is it bitter, salty, or sweet? That comes through sensory perception—touch, taste, smell—and only after those signals reach the brain can it analyze and respond.
So the first trigger for thought is sense.
“Or, sense is what all creatures use to perceive existence.”
We perceive the world through our senses—hearing, sight, taste, smell.
If we didn’t have the sense of smell, we’d eat rotten food and get poisoned—or die.
It is sense that receives messages of light and messages of sound.
And “when sense functions properly and calmly, it brings about an indescribable feeling of joy and delight.”
When your senses are functioning well, and they’re in a state of peace, they give rise to deep happiness and joy.

“The feeling of love is so beautiful. The sense of loving others, of helping fellow human beings, of caring for all of creation—it paints the most glorious picture of what it means to be a servant of the universe, with full free will.”
A servant, or abd, means someone who serves. We are all servants—we are servants of God, which also means we are servants of the entire universe. We belong to God, but we cannot see God directly. Instead, creation is a reflection of God—so serving creation is serving God.
What does it mean to serve creation? If you throw trash into nature, you're not helping—you’re working against it.
When you toss a cigarette out of a car window, you’re harming the environment.
When we go on a picnic and leave our garbage in a river, we’re damaging the ecosystem.
When we destroy animal habitats, cut down forests, and wipe out trees—we’re not acting like true servants.
Being a servant or a worshipper of God isn’t just about performing rituals—no matter what religion we follow.
Just last night on TV, by coincidence, I saw a group of people in India standing in the Ganges River, their hands held in a certain posture, dipping themselves into the water again and again—that’s one form of worship. It’s meaningful, and it’s beautiful in its own way. But if, in the process, we pollute the water or throw waste into it, we defeat the whole purpose.
So to be a true servant is to serve all of creation.
Think of a factory. Everyone inside—a worker, an engineer, an accountant, a guard—is working for that factory. They’re all serving the same purpose and keeping it running.
We, too, are God’s workers in this universe.
We’re supposed to help the world function—not sabotage it.

In the old days, factories or any place had a guard. Universities were the same—they had a guard too. A guard means a caretaker, someone who watches over the factory to make sure no one climbs the walls, or steals anything. When we go to the Shiroodi stadium in the mornings, there are some guards there as well.
But then they changed the name of “guard” to “security.” And that caused problems.
What used to be a simple caretaker became “security.” And security means someone who watches over and protects. But when they changed the name, people started thinking all those security guards are like intelligence agents, like Ministry of Intelligence officers, CIA agents, or something else. Their whole job suddenly felt different.
If you ask the guard, “Hey, why don’t you open the door in the morning?” you get a big attitude. They look down on you and say, “Do you want me to make trouble for you because you complain about the door?” For example, when we go to the swimming pool in the morning, the guard has to open the door, but it’s always a hassle—like they’re some kind of secret agent.
They changed the name from guard to security, but really it’s just a caretaker—like a janitor. Like the person in the garage who was called a “hallway keeper,” or a janitor in houses, or a guard in factories. The guard was just the building’s caretaker. But now, by calling it “security,” everything changed.
So why am I telling you this? (Laughter from audience and teacher.) It’s about being a servant, a bandeh. You’re put there to serve—to open the door, close it on time, watch over people, protect property, and so on.
That is true servitude and guarding—not to be the boss of everyone and interfere in all their business. That kind of thing belongs to intelligence agencies and other organizations—they have their own plans and structure.
When you misuse those names, you make the situation worse—you ruin reputations and create problems.
So being a servant means serving—whether in the country, in the universe, or anywhere else.

So, “the sense of helping others and helping the entire existence depicts human servitude with complete free will in its most magnificent form. Now, if through purification (tazkiyah) we can strengthen the senses beyond the physical body and pass through the gateways of the five bodily senses, then we can begin to receive—even the sense of inspiration and piety.”
Here, there is a brief reference to the spiritual stage. It says that if a person transcends the five external senses, they reach the five inner senses. As Rumi’s poem goes:
“Five senses are commanded from within,
Five senses are commanded from without.
There are ten senses and seven other limbs,
What’s said here cannot be fully counted.”
This means that by purifying oneself and passing beyond these, one enters another stage. When you enter this stage, your sense elevates.
“Then we can receive the sense of inspiration and piety”—referring to the verse “And inspired her (the soul) to do wickedness and righteousness” (Fa-alhamaha fujuraha wa taqwa-ha).
“The sense of receiving the voice of the Holy Spirit,”
“The grace of the Holy Spirit will again assist,
So that others do what the Messiah did.”
“The sense of hearing celestial melodies, the sense of dancing in the heavens, the sense of fellowship with the inhabitants of the sanctuary of secret and chastity of the Kingdom.”
“The inhabitants of the sanctuary of secret and chastity of the Kingdom
Joined me to drink the intoxicating wine.”
We can even receive that sense—the sense of “Be,” and it is (Kun fa-yakun).
“The sense of hearing the voice of God, who told Moses: ‘Remove your sandals; this is holy ground,’” meaning even that! If a person transcends these five senses—passes beyond this childishness, which honestly, in my opinion, some of these things are childish—then they can enter a new phase.
God, who created this existence, we will never reach its end. Humans are always seekers of perfection; no matter how high we rise, there is always something higher.
If we move beyond these childish stages, we enter new stages—those very senses of receiving inspiration, piety, or the voice of the Holy Spirit, or “Remove your sandals” (Fakhl’ na’layka).
Yes, even hearing the voice of God—the one who spoke to Moses, who could hear God’s voice. We too can hear that voice.

“But alas, a thousand times alas, that some of our traits have changed, and our negative and destructive senses have grown powerful.”
It says: alas and a thousand times alas that some of our feelings have shifted, and our negative, harmful senses have become strong and dominant.
“We are drowning in the misery, ignorance, and darkness that we ourselves have prepared with our own hands.”
We have brought this suffering upon ourselves with our own ignorance and misery, and now we are immersed in it.
“And we have trampled all our dignity and humanity underfoot for a handful of stones, soil, iron beams, land, and materials that have no permanence.”
Lies, deceit, trickery, and schemes for this and that—we have sacrificed everything.
“And we fail to see all this beauty and grandeur.”
We don’t recognize the grandeur of creation, the beauty around us, the blessings given to us—we fail to notice any of it.
“And instead, we have occupied ourselves with hatred, envy, pain and suffering, betrayal of trust, harming others, selfishness, and egotism.”
Instead of appreciating the value of existence, survival, and love, we have abandoned all that and clung to bitterness, hatred, jealousy, misery, broken promises, hurting others, selfishness, and ego. We have wasted ourselves and turned existence into hell.
“We have turned existence into hell, and hell into ourselves.”
We have made existence a hell, and hell ourselves! When God says, “Everyone becomes the fuel of their own hell,” this is exactly what it means: the fire of hell is internal; hell is the self, within ourselves; it is our own being that becomes hell, and we become the fuel feeding it.
“And we have become like a hideous, ugly octopus, entrapping ourselves in our own terrifying claws, pressing harder on ourselves every day until we are completely crushed.”
Like a repulsive octopus, we have wrapped ourselves in our own frightening claws; in other words, we are destroying ourselves at our own expense. Bit by bit, day by day, we keep crushing ourselves—our body, mind, and soul—pressing down harder until we are utterly broken.

“And when we become overwhelmed, we begin to complain and ask, ‘What is the purpose of life? Why were we created? We never wanted to come into this world.’ This question has always been asked and will continue to be asked—so be it.”
When we feel pressured and trapped from all sides, that’s when we reach a breaking point and start to complain: “We never wanted to come to this world. It’s not our fault. We weren’t asked. Was it our father’s fault or our mother’s?” and so on. Then we ask: “What is the meaning of life? Why were we created? We never wanted to come.” This question has been asked throughout history and will continue to be asked.
“In humans, seeing is the place of light.”
We see light with our eyes. The eyes are the place where light resides in humans. We see all the images of creatures in existence through light, and light’s place is the eye.
The place of sound is the ear, and the heart or the chest is the place of the central sense—meaning the sense resides in the heart and chest.
As Silver said, when someone loves another person, they put their hand on their heart. The heart or chest is the place of the sense—not the heart itself, but the central sense located in the chest. God mentions these three in the Book: hearing, seeing, and the heart (or chest).
So, light and sound are placed in their respective places, as described in the Book.

“Just as light and sound are beneficial and constructive, at lower levels there are impure and polluted lights—more like fire—and likewise, many destructive and harmful sounds exist in great amounts.”
It says that light and sound sustain existence, and existence itself has both good and bad aspects; it’s not only good. So, light and sound can be both positive and negative. Light itself isn’t inherently bad, but impure light can be harmful—like fire or flame.
“If the light is completely purified, it usually symbolizes goodness and virtue.” As the scripture says, “Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth.”
“Similarly, many kinds of harmful and destructive sounds exist in abundance.”
Humans’ physical form is made from earth, but their hidden form is made from fire—a point that many overlook. Everyone says humans are created from dust; yes, that’s true, but what about the spirit? The senses? The soul? Humans are meant to purify and cleanse that fiery hidden essence bit by bit over time. The more we purify and refine ourselves, the more impurities of this fire fade away and turn into light.
Therefore, sound can be destructive. “Indeed, the worst of sounds is the braying of the donkey”—and sometimes the worst sounds are certain human voices.
For example, turning up a loudspeaker to a very high volume can cause problems. There was once a man who called the call to prayer (adhan) at a mosque, but his voice was extremely unpleasant. The adhan is the word of God, but not everyone’s voice can make it beautiful. His voice was so bad that people didn’t know how to tell him politely to stop. Finally, they gave him some money to move to another mosque. Imagine, they paid him around 500,000 toman to leave. But when he started calling adhan there, they had problems too and asked him to return. He refused, saying he was paid to come there. They offered him even more money to go back to his original mosque (laughter from the instructor).
Sometimes, it’s not true that a bad voice is fine just because it’s the word of God. Imagine finding a really bad-sounding muezzin at dawn, noon, or midnight, and the amplifier turned all the way up! Some people think that louder means more reward, but this actually causes distress and a bad sound.
Everything should be expressed in its best way. There are many sounds you know well are polluted and cause disturbance and discomfort.

“Now, one might ask, what connection does this have to a person’s past traits and changing them? We will soon understand.”
It says: what do sound, light, and these things have to do with it? We will see shortly.
“Impure and completely polluted lights, together with harmful sounds, are very active—they keep sending destructive messages and implanting harmful and obstructive goals. We are always suitable prey for them and never able to completely get rid of them. If we want to avoid being attacked as prey by these forces, we must change our own receiver and transmitter waves, or in other words, our traits or qualities.”
And here’s an important point: “We can never truly change our past traits unless our feelings change.”
Some sounds and lights are visible, and some are invisible. Existence is symbolically divided into two parts: positive forces and negative forces. Both sides want to increase their own power and followers.
It’s similar politically—for example, in the U.S., Democrats and Republicans each want to increase their own supporters. Wherever two groups or classes exist, each wants to grow its strength.
The same applies in existence: there are two groups—positive and negative—and each wants to increase its forces. This growth happens partly in the visible realm and partly in the hidden realm.
In the visible realm, people come together, talk, give speeches, and do many things that we know. But what about the hidden realm? There is a hidden side as well. The visible side is sound, which we understand and accept.

What is the hidden aspect of sound? That becomes inspiration—as in “Fa’alhamahā”!
You’re sitting somewhere, and suddenly something inside you says, “Get up and go outside.” You do, and right then you run into your cousin or someone else you’d been hoping to see. That’s inspiration—it doesn’t come out of nowhere. Inspiration happens through sound, even if it’s not an audible sound. It might say, “Go,” or “Don’t go,” or “Do this,” or “Don’t do that.”
In the past, for example, if someone was about to leave the house and they sneezed, people would say, “That’s a sign—wait a bit!” That too was a kind of sound-based cue. Whether it’s right or wrong isn’t the point—the idea is that inspiration can happen in the hidden realm.
And who gives that inspiration? It must come from someone or something. Whoever gives the inspiration must either be from light—meaning a pure spirit—or from fire—meaning something negative, like a jinn or a demonic force.
So in the hidden realm, just as there are divine forces, there are also dark, Ahrimanic forces that are trying to grow stronger. Just like when God says He cast Satan out, and Satan replies, “I will mislead them from in front of them, from behind them, from their right and from their left.”
We may consider that a story or a tale, but in the hidden realm, these are real. Negative inspiration exists in the unseen world. And this—right here—is where they’re working on us.

“Impure rays of light—what we call nar, or fire—and totally polluted energies, working through harmful sounds, are extremely active. They constantly transmit messages of corruption, injecting destructive and obstructive aims into our minds and hearts.”
As the verse says: "And by the soul and the One who proportioned it—and inspired it with both wickedness and righteousness." (Surah Al-Shams, 91:7–8)
“We are always easy targets for them.” All of us, at any time, can become prey—because these forces are constantly hunting. The good seeks the good, and the destructive seeks the destructive. Both divine and demonic forces are busy organizing, strengthening, and recruiting their ranks. And we, humans, are always a potential meal on the table.
“We are never capable of eliminating them.” We cannot delete or destroy negative forces. No one can. It’s simply not possible.
If someone claims they can create a system to eradicate negative forces, they are gravely mistaken—because these forces are not removable. The same is true in politics: you can never completely get rid of an opposing force. At most, you can suppress it for a short while, but it will always re-emerge—often more powerful than before. It may hide underground, regather, reorganize, and return stronger than ever.
Anyone who thinks they can totally cleanse the world of evil or opposition is fooling themselves.
It’s like weeds—you may cut them down, but they grow right back. You might get rid of one negative person, and another will take their place. That’s how the whole world works.
You will never be able to create a perfect, clean slate. That kind of complete purification just isn’t possible. Look at major governments and empires throughout history—they were never able to do it.
Even in our own country, or in other nations—look where things end up. Look at the Soviet Union: seventy years of power, and yet it collapsed. Or the Berlin Wall between East and West Germany—what happened to that? It fell.
No one has ever been able to permanently remove negative or opposing forces. Maybe you can suppress them temporarily, but never entirely.

“If we don’t want to become prey to those forces, we have to change our own frequency—our receiver and transmitter, or in other words, our traits and characteristics.”
We can’t get rid of those external forces, but what we can do is change ourselves. It’s like the example I’ve mentioned before: there are powerful magnets all around us, and our being is like iron. We’re just a small piece of metal—we can’t deactivate all the magnets out there. But what we can do is transform ourselves. Instead of being iron, we could become copper, cast iron, tin, wood—anything that isn’t attracted to those magnets.
So again, if we don’t want to be pulled in like bait, we must change our frequency—our receiver and transmitter—which means changing both what we absorb and what we project.
“And we must understand this: we can never change a past trait unless our inner sense—our feeling—changes.”
In other words, we simply cannot alter a trait from the past unless our perception changes. If I want to change a characteristic of mine, I have to shift how I sense and interpret things; my thoughts and the way I receive experiences must change.
“It’s important to know that every receiver also becomes a transmitter. If our sense is tuned to absorb ugliness, then that’s exactly what we’ll transmit. But if we’re absorbing beauty, goodness, and values, then that’s what we’ll reflect out into the world. So, our receiving and transmitting characteristics are, in fact, our own traits.”
It’s interesting—while a radio can only receive and a transmitter can only send, humans aren’t like that. We both receive and transmit. Whatever ugliness or bitterness we take in, we’ll end up spreading. And if we take in kindness and beauty, that’s what we’ll pass on.
It all depends on what we allow ourselves to receive. Just like the saying, “A jug only pours out what’s inside it.”
If we absorb ugliness, we’ll radiate ugliness. If we absorb resentment, we’ll spread resentment. Whatever we take in, that’s what we’ll give back to the world.
We can only give what we have within. If there’s no money in our pocket, we can’t hand out any money.

You might think that spiritual matters are easy and come cheap—but no! Spiritual work is actually far more difficult than material matters. If you don’t have any money, you can ask someone for it. You could say, “Hey, can you lend me a hundred tomans? I’ll pay you back later.” You get the money and hand it over to someone else. That’s simple—you can borrow and transfer money.
But can you say, “Give me a bit of love so I can pass it on to someone else”? Or, “Give me a bit of hatred so I can give it to that person”? Or, “Let me borrow some resentment so I can direct it at someone”?
You can’t do that. These things aren’t transferable.
Money, finances, material things—they can be exchanged. But spiritual qualities can’t be passed around like that. And that makes spiritual work much, much harder.
If our being absorbs negativity, then negativity is exactly what we’ll radiate. You can’t take in ugliness and somehow project kindness. You can’t absorb lies and expect to spread truth. It simply doesn’t work that way.
If our inner sense is tuned to receive darkness, then darkness is what we’ll send out. And if we take in beauty, goodness, and values, those are what we’ll reflect back.
So, whatever we take in—love, kindness, truth, values—is what we will ultimately share with others.
What do I receive from my teacher? Whatever it is, that’s what I’ll share. And the same goes for you.
“This is what defines our receiver and transmitter traits.”
If what we receive and send is ugliness or negativity, then that reflects our own character.
“In other words, our receiver and transmitter are, in fact, our true self.”
That’s enough for now.
Thank you all for listening to me—I truly appreciate it.

Translated by: Companion Marjan
6/23/2025

Part Three

In the Name of God, the Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful
With strength drawn from the Absolute Power of God, we begin this session.
Hello, friends. I am Hossein, a traveler and the session guardian.
(Audience responds: Hello, Hossein!)
I kindly ask everyone to observe fourteen seconds of silence to seek refuge in the Almighty and free ourselves from our greatest enemy—our own ignorance and unawareness.
(Fourteen seconds of silence observed)
Thank you, friends. I now request our esteemed secretary to provide a summary of the previous session and announce today’s agenda.

Hello, friends. My name is Fatemeh, and I am a traveler.
(Audience responds: Hello, Neda!)
In the name of the Absolute Power of God, today the second session of the twenty-first round of Congress 60 workshops, dated January 23, 2013 is held with the agenda “The Tenth Valley, Part Three” from the book “14 valleys for Recovery” written in 2012. The session started under the guidance and supervision of Mr. Dezhakam and me, Fatemeh as the secretary at 9:00 a.m.
(Audience applauds)

Our lesson today is the Tenth Valley. We’re now in part three—section three—and I hope that in this part, we’ll be able to wrap up the Valley and bring it to a close.
The key message of this Valley is this: “Past traits in a human being are not fixed, because a human is ever-changing.” Human beings can change. They can transform.
In nature, some creatures can’t change their traits. A wolf, an eagle, a hawk, a zebra—these beings cannot change their nature. But a human being can. That’s an incredibly important point—one we must always keep in mind.
There was a time when, before we ever entered a proper system, people wouldn’t even trust us to herd a few sheep. And even if they did give us a few sheep to tend, they wouldn’t have placed any real trust in us. They wouldn’t have handed over their flock and said, “Here, take care of these sheep for me.”
That kind of trust simply didn’t exist. No one would’ve even trusted us to scrub a cooking pot. They’d worry we might just run off with the pot altogether.

So sometimes we see that, before we entered this system—before we joined any real structure—no one valued us, not even worth ten cents. People didn’t see any value in us at all. But then, we start to grow. We take a leap forward. And at that point, our character must change—fundamentally. If it doesn’t, then we’re still that same worthless version of ourselves. Nothing has truly changed. You have to let go of certain things—selfishness, ego, pride, arrogance, and all those inflated ideas about yourself. Suddenly, you’re placed in a position of responsibility. They put twenty people under your supervision—thirty even. Or maybe just five or six. But still, you’re put in charge of others. And remember—you didn’t do this by yourself.
Sometimes, the system is what puts its trust in you. It’s the system that gives you that position. It’s the system that places you in a role of leadership.
So don’t suddenly start thinking, “Wow, I’m really something now.” Don’t let that position go to your head and allow those old negative traits to start growing again—traits you were supposed to have left behind. You must always remember this:
A person should never forget the place they once were. They must always stay aware of their current position, and remember their past one too.
That way, if they reach a good place in life, they remain grateful—thankful to God for the transformation they’ve been given.

There was a man named Ayaz, whom Sultan Mahmud loved dearly—he truly held him close to his heart. Ayaz was one of his loyal servants. I’ve told this story once before. Every day, Ayaz would go into a certain room in the royal palace. He’d sit there for about half an hour, then quietly come out.
The other commanders serving under Sultan Mahmud grew envious of Ayaz—because not only was he close to the Sultan, but the Sultan genuinely loved him.
So they started gossiping. They said, “Your Majesty, this Ayaz… every day he goes into that room and locks himself in. We believe he’s hiding something—probably stolen treasure. He must have gold or jewels stashed away there.” Now, the Sultan knew Ayaz was not that kind of person. But to settle the matter once and for all, he called in all the commanders who had made these accusations. He summoned Ayaz and said, “Open the door to that room.” Ayaz hesitated. He didn’t want to open it. He begged the king to let it remain closed, but the Sultan insisted. Finally, Ayaz unlocked the door. And when they stepped inside… there was nothing. Just an old sheepskin coat lying on the floor, and a pair of worn-out shoes—tattered and broken. They dug up the ground. They searched the room from top to bottom. But there was no treasure. Nothing had been hidden. The earth was untouched. They turned to Ayaz and asked, “Then what is this room for? Why do you come here every day?” Ayaz replied: “When I first came here, I wore this torn coat and these ragged shoes. That was all I had. Now, I’ve been honored and raised to a position of favor with the Sultan. I come to this room every day to look at these things, to remind myself of who I really am—where I came from—so I never forget my true self.”

This is something that applies to all of us.
If we progress in life—if we rise to a new position—no matter what the role is, we must recognize the value of that position. Maybe we become a teacher and are given forty students. Or we become a university professor with fifty students. Maybe we’re put in charge of an office, and suddenly there’s a whole line of people coming to us for help. Whether we’re municipal staff or in any other role, once we’re placed in a position of responsibility, we must honor that position.
We must treat those we serve—and those we interact with—with respect and dignity. You can discipline someone if necessary, but you do not have the right to disrespect them. Even someone sentenced to death is still a human being—and no one, not even the executioner, has the right to insult them.
The judge may issue the sentence based on the law, and the sentence may be execution. But the executioner has no right to curse that person or treat them with disrespect. He can place the noose around the person’s neck, or pull the chair from under them. If it’s a firing squad, he can carry out the shooting. But under no circumstances does he have the right to insult them. We do not have the right to insult anyone. No matter what position we hold.
We don’t even have the right to insult our own children. Just because they’re our children doesn’t give us permission to be disrespectful.

The same goes for our spouse—just because they’re our husband or wife doesn’t mean we’re allowed to insult them. We can’t say, “Because she’s my wife, I can talk to her however I want,” or “Because he’s my husband, I can insult him.” Nor do we have the right to insult our sister, or our tenant, or anyone else. Insulting another person is never justified. You may fail a student. You may not pass them. But you cannot insult them. You may dismiss a pupil from class, but you have no right to disrespect them.

So, if our character changes and we reach a new position, we must truly value and respect that position. If we fail to appreciate the worth of that role, they will take it away from us. And be certain of this: “A camel thief can’t sneak around quietly.” Some people say it wrong—they say, “Camel riding can’t be done quietly.” But that’s not the right saying. The correct proverb is: “Camel stealing can’t be done quietly.” Because a camel is very big. If you steal a camel and try to sneak around bending over so no one notices, it won’t work—everyone will see the camel because it’s so large. So the meaning is, if you do something big and wrong, you can’t hide it easily. It will definitely be noticed. This is exactly the lesson for us. It’s about our journey, about changing our old traits. This applies to all of us. We must change those traits bit by bit, and treat people with kindness and compassion.

Wherever we are—in any position—even a hardworking sweeper holds an important role, has value, and deserves respect. We should support them and say “thank you” or “well done.” We cannot insult or disrespect people just because of where we happen to be in the hierarchy. Now, I’ll read a little from the previous section before we continue. The takeaway is this:
To change our past traits, we must change the feelings or the frequency of our receiver and transmitter. This work is both difficult and easy at the same time. And there is only one true way to change our feelings toward positive values—and that is through purification, refinement, or cleansing. In humans, this process is known as tazkiyah—spiritual purification. 

Now, the paragraph just before this says:
"It’s important to note that every receiver is also a transmitter." Someone who absorbs good things will pass on good things. And someone who takes in negativity will end up spreading negativity. So it says that our transmitter—more precisely, the qualities of our receiver and transmitter—are actually a reflection of our own character. The traits of what we absorb and what we project are, in essence, our very own traits. Every receiver is certainly a transmitter as well.

Then it goes on to say:
In order to change a past trait, our inner sense—our feeling—must change. If we follow the law or principle behind this, it becomes easier. If we don’t, the process becomes much harder. This process is referred to as “tasfiyah” (with the Arabic letter "ṣād") and “taswiyah” (with "sīn").  The two words sound very similar, but they’re different in meaning:
• Tasfiyah (تصفیه) with "ṣād" means purification or refinement—like how oil is refined in a refinery, or how water is purified.
• Taswiyah (تسویه) with "sīn" means settling accounts, like going over balances and finalizing them—hence the term “settlement of accounts.”
These two terms are often confused because they sound alike, but they are distinct.
And here, it is saying:
To change our inner feeling in the direction of values, there is only one path—and no other—and that is through tasfiyah and taswiyah: the purification and settling of the human being.

In the case of human beings, this process is called tazkiyah—spiritual purification. There is no other way. If we want to change our past traits, our inner sense—our feeling—must change. And for that feeling to change, there is absolutely no path other than purification. There’s no alternative. You can’t expect to change just through worship alone—if there is no purification involved. It doesn’t matter what religion or belief system you follow. You could be Buddhist, Hindu—you might go to the temple regularly, meditate, or pray consistently—but if you don’t go through purification and cleansing, you won’t truly change. If you want to shift toward real values, there is only one way. There is no shortcut. So far, I haven’t seen any new or alternate route. A person must purify themselves. And the first step in purification—the starting point for tazkiyah—is thought. If you want to refine or cleanse yourself, if you want to undergo tazkiyah or taswiyah, it begins with your thinking. What kind of thinking? Healthy thinking.
Because there’s both healthy thinking and unhealthy thinking. When you start plotting something harmful, something dishonest—that’s unhealthy thinking.  If you’re planning a bank robbery—is that healthy thinking? If you’re plotting to harm someone, or looking for a way to pour your venom onto another human being—that’s unhealthy thinking. The very act of scheming in that direction is, by definition, unhealthy thinking. So what we need is healthy thought. When healthy thought is established, it leads to healthy faith.

Healthy thinking means sound, clear, and value-based reasoning—thoughts that align with what is good and right. And from that comes faith. And what is faith? Faith is the manifestation of God's light within a human being. It is a deep belief or unwavering conviction in a person, a truth, or a principle. One interpretation, especially in a divine context, says:
Faith is when the attributes of God are reflected in a person. When we say someone has faith, we don’t mean just an outward appearance—like, for example, having a mark of constant prostration on the forehead. Sure, that may be a sign—but it’s not the essence of faith. True faith shows itself in one’s character. And what are God's attributes?

Look at the phrase: "In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful"—Al-Rahman, Al-Rahim. God is gracious. God is merciful. So, someone who truly has faith should also be gracious and merciful. If there is no grace and no mercy in them, then there is no Rahman or Rahim in them. We’ve gotten used to beginning everything we do with “In the name of God”—Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim, “In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful.” But maybe it’s time we stop and actually think about what we’re saying. When we say “In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful,” it shouldn’t just be a phrase we repeat out of habit, like some kind of formula.

Imagine someone asks, “What’s your name?” and you say, “Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim—Hossein.” Or someone asks, “What do you do for a living?” and you reply, “Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim—I'm a plasterer.” That phrase—Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim—has deep value. You shouldn’t just toss it around everywhere. Use it when it means something. And more importantly, align yourself with it. When you say, “God is Gracious and Merciful,” then you, too, should strive to be gracious and merciful. Try saying, instead of “In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful,” “In my own name—because I, too, am striving to be gracious and merciful.”

Or say, “I must also be gracious and merciful. I must reflect Rahman and Rahim in myself.” We’re meant to learn something from those words—not just say them. Not say, “Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim—Hossein,” and then, at the smallest inconvenience, slap someone across the face. Or if someone annoys you slightly, start insulting them. Or think, “I’ll destroy him. I’ll bring him down. I’ll show him who’s boss.” If that’s your mindset, then don’t say Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim. Because if you do say it—ask yourself what it truly means.

So, one of the signs of a person who truly has faith is that they are gracious and kind, generous, capable, and even powerful and firm. In other words, the divine names and attributes of God—these should be reflected, in some way, in that person. The qualities God possesses are qualities we, too, should try to carry within ourselves. Now, there’s also another kind of faith. Sometimes, you might have a strong belief or deep conviction in something or someone. It could be belief in a political party, an ideology, a school of thought, a teacher, a poet, a physicist, a mathematician, or even a mechanic. You might say, “I have complete faith in this mechanic—he’s the only one I trust with my car. His work is excellent.” That, too, is a kind of belief. Or you might believe in a poet, a professor, a mathematician—saying, “I truly trust and believe in this person.” Sometimes, people even say they have faith in their horse: “I trust this horse with my life—it would never abandon me.”

Sometimes, you might even say you have faith in your dog. You might say, “I trust this dog. It protects me. It keeps watch. It’s loyal.” Or you might have faith in a person—meaning you believe in them, you trust them, you value and accept them. So, what does that mean? When a person has sound thinking—thinking that is grounded, clear, and morally upright—it gives rise to genuine faith. True faith leads to decency in how we behave and live. When your thoughts are upright and your beliefs sincere, decency follows naturally. When the attributes of God begin to appear in you—when your faith is real—then you do right and decent actions. But why do we need faith?

Let’s say I, Dezhakam, am a man of deep faith. But so, what’s the point of faith? What is faith even for? You might say, “I believe in God,” or “I have strong conviction.”
That’s fine—but what good is it? Faith only holds value when it brings about decency in a person’s actions and character. When sincere faith gives birth to decency, that’s when it truly matters. And when you act with decency, you begin to feel something within. All of these elements are connected—like a circle, each one following the other. A little bit of one leads to a little bit of the next—just a small shift here, a small step there. So, when you act with decency, a healthy sense of feeling arises.
In other words, when you do the right thing, and you do it well, it brings about a deep sense of joy, energy, and inner peace. And from that wholesome feeling—when your inner sense becomes clear and healthy—sound reasoning begins to emerge. As we’ve said before: feeling is the first force that sets the intellect in motion. In fact, our sense of feeling is the primary receiver through which we take in everything.

Our connection with the entire universe is rooted in feeling. And from a healthy sense of feeling comes sound reasoning. From sound reasoning, true and balanced love reveals itself. So once again, we return to that age-old debate—some say love and intellect are at odds with each other. But in my personal view, the wiser a person is, the more capable they are of love. And the more disconnected they are from reason, the more likely they are to confuse love with reckless obsession or blind intoxication. Because when you’re truly wise, reason itself tells you to love— To love existence, to love nature, to love humanity, to love everything. And from sound reasoning, healthy, genuine love comes to life. And only then can one’s former character truly begin to change. All of these elements must shift for that transformation to happen. It’s not about sitting in a corner after a life of excess and saying, “I repent,” and expecting everything to be fixed overnight. Yes, God forgives—but you must also make a move.

There are two essential and ongoing forces that constantly and in parallel elevate all of these qualities: sound education and useful experience. Over time—and sometimes quite gradually—these two elements can bring about real breakthroughs. As our sense, reason, and faith evolve and move forward, learning plays a crucial role. And experience, too—especially the kind gained through decent and well-grounded actions—has a powerful effect. Experiences that come from doing what is right, at the right time, not only move us forward, but also bring about joy and a sense of fulfillment. When our actions are rooted in decency, they lead to inner breakthroughs—bringing us delight, energy, and deep satisfaction. But even the experiences that lead to failure are valuable. Because those, too, serve a purpose: they help us re-examine our thoughts, words, and actions.
So, when our efforts result in success, that’s wonderful. But when something doesn’t work out—when we face failure—that’s a moment to pause and reflect. It’s a chance to ask: Was my thinking aligned? Was my speech appropriate? Were my actions correct? This reflection is what we need—not grief, not regret.

Sometimes, when you fail at something or fall short in a plan, you need to step back and carefully review your thoughts, your words, and your actions.
You have to figure out where the mistake happened—where you went wrong or what you didn’t understand that caused the failure.
You have to find it and address it.

But failure shouldn’t lead you to sadness or despair. You shouldn’t start crying or cursing the heavens and the earth. Saying things like, “I’m just unlucky,” or “I was born under a bad star,” or “If the sky rained stones, one would land on my head.” All that is just nonsense—empty excuses we tell ourselves when we’re defeated. Instead, when you fail, look carefully at where you failed.

Ask yourself:
Who gave me the wrong directions?
Who was undermining me from below?
Who whispered evil temptations in my ear?
Who has led me off the right path?
Who is trying to lead me astray?
Where did this evil influence come from?
Through whom did it happen?

All these questions must be examined and reviewed. So, when you experience failure, it shouldn’t break you.

I once told the members during sports competitions: We are never really losers in any competition. In a contest, either we win, or we learn. Either we win, or we take a lesson from our loss. And experience—this is exactly what God wants. He doesn’t want us to be tormented by failure. We experience setbacks so that next time we won’t repeat the same mistake. Sometimes, you’ve probably seen a donkey—very smart animal, by the way. If it walks a path of twenty kilometers, and somewhere along that path there’s a hole or a ditch, when the donkey steps into it once, it never goes down that same spot again. It remembers and avoids the hole.
But we humans? We step into the same hole a hundred times. We fall back, then step in it again. We get stung by the same thorn over and over.

Long ago, they used to say: A person should only get stung by a thorn once—not a hundred times. So when we face failure, it should lead us to reflect on our thoughts, words, and actions—not to sorrow or despair. Because we constantly dress our thoughts in words and actions, it’s possible that even if we take what seems like hundreds of good steps in our thinking, in the end we realize only a few of them were truly sound. Why should we review our thoughts, words, and actions—and avoid falling into sorrow or regret? Because we’re always turning our ideas into speech, and our speech into deeds. For example, today on my way here, I noticed a hole in our alley in my thoughts. I then spoke about it, picked up the phone, and reported it to the responsible department. They came and fixed it. So, a thought turned into speech, then into action—and this is something we do all the time. But taking a truly decent and righteous step is not easy. It’s hard work.

We may take a hundred steps thinking they are all right and healthy, only to realize later that maybe just two of them were really sound, and the rest were flawed. This is because the whole process is complex and multifaceted. Don’t imagine that you will understand everything quickly or perfectly. At first, you might say, “From now on, I will never commit an unworthy action again. Every action I take will be decent and righteous.” But the truth is, we will make mistakes again. We will face failure again—this happens to everyone. Because truly reaching righteous action requires a very deep understanding, a very high level of insight, and we haven’t yet reached that level. So, we should not be afraid; we need to keep experiencing and testing ourselves to see which of our steps were truly righteous and which were not.

Now, pure love is the stage where you love all of existence. What is pure love? Pure love means that you truly care and love. A person who does not love is not a lover.
Love is not just about a man courting a woman, or a woman courting a man—and calling that love. If that’s all love is, then you might say, “If this is love, then I don’t want my eyes to see this world.” (a part of a song) (laughs) That’s just one part of love. (laughs)
But when you reach the stage of pure love, love is no longer about just one specific person, one particular case, or one special thing—only to turn around and speak ill of the rest of existence. Pure love is the stage where you love the whole universe. A person in love is someone who loves all of existence. They love the mountains—yes, even the mountains. What does it mean to love existence?

They love the mountains. Some people, when it comes to mountains, they’ll say, “Ugh, who cares about mountains? I can’t stand them. What’s the point of climbing all the way up there with all that struggle? Rocks? They’re dirty. What good are rocks?” You’ve probably seen people who think this way. But someone who holds pure love— They love the mountains. They love the rocks. They love people. They love trees. They love the earth. They love the air. They love animals. They love the rain. They love a horse, a sheep, a bird. They love the rain. They love the sweetness and the bitterness. They love the good people and even the bad. Because one day, they’ll realize that all of existence is for them, and they are for all of existence. Just like the Three Musketeers said:
“One for all, and all for one.” It’s kind of like that. So someone who truly loves—loves everything. Loves all of it.

They don’t even dislike a bad person. And here’s why: the earth, the air, the animals, the rain, the sweetness, the bitterness, the good people, the bad people—because you’ll come to realize that all of existence is there for you, and you are there for all of existence. And without them, you’d have no meaning at all. We, without existence and without others, have no meaning. Yet sometimes, we make this big mistake. We imagine we’re somebody! That we’re so important! As the old saying goes, we act as though we’ve fallen from the elephant’s trunk, thinking we’re truly something special. Like that old fable of the ant: when rainwater entered its burrow, it thought the whole world had drowned. Some people are like that—they believe if something happens to them, the whole world must surely fall apart. But truly, whether you exist or not on this planet—what difference does it make?
Whether you’re in Tehran or not, does it change Tehran?
Whether you live in this neighborhood or not—what real difference does it make? We’re really not that important.
And we come to see: without all those other parts of existence, we mean nothing. How so? For instance: your entire being comes from the earth. All of us—our bodies are made from the earth: calcium, magnesium, phosphorus, and so on. And we live on this big ball of earth, this huge stone planet spinning in the sky. Without it, you couldn’t even exist. If this soil, if this planet weren’t here—you wouldn’t be here either. And so, you learn to love the earth and to respect it. And when you truly love the earth, you won’t litter on it. You won’t dirty it. You won’t pollute it.
In the past, Iranians used to say, “Water is clean,” or like Sohrab Sepehri wrote, “Don’t muddy the water.”
Ancient Iranians believed water was sacred and pure. They said the same of the earth.
Not sacred in the sense of worship, but sacred because our whole existence depends on it.
So they taught: “Don’t dirty the water. Don’t throw a dead cat in it. Don’t toss a dead animal in it. Keep the water clean. Don’t pollute the soil.”
Yet now, look what we do: go to the north, into the forests—you’ll see so much trash.
Sometimes it feels like you’ve stepped into a garbage dump.
Who did this? We did. All of us.  If someone truly loved the earth, they wouldn’t throw trash on it. And when someone understands that, they will naturally respect nature itself.

A bad person teaches you that evil is ugly — and so, in a way, he becomes your teacher. And you will come to love your teacher. A bad person shows you that wrongdoing is disgraceful. You’ve often seen this: someone behaves badly, uses foul language, does something shameful. By watching him, you learn: “Don’t do this. This is ugly.” As the old saying goes, “From whom did you learn good manners?” They asked Luqman the Wise, “From whom did you learn manners?” He replied, “From the ill-mannered.” When the ill-mannered do something wrong, they get hurt; they suffer consequences; society rejects them; people dislike them. And you learn not to repeat those mistakes. Some people mistakenly think they’re strong or important because they shout, threaten, or insult others. No — they do these things out of ignorance. A bad person shows you that evil is ugly — and so, in that sense, he becomes your teacher. And you will come to love your teacher — because he has taught you something important.

Ali ibn Abi Talib (Imam Ali) said:
“If someone teaches me even a single word, I become his servant; I become his slave.”
This, too, is what it means: he becomes your teacher — and so you cherish your teacher. Because when you reach pure love, you’ll understand that people’s wrongdoings and ugliness come from their ignorance, their lack of understanding, or sometimes from their needs. And your heart will ache for them; you’ll even pray for them. Because in their ignorance, they’re really harming themselves; they’re burning themselves from within. With their own hands, they’re preparing the tools of their own destruction. So a bad person teaches you that evil is ugly — and thus he becomes your teacher, and you come to love your teacher.
When you reach pure love, you realize this truth deeply:
All those who do wrong, all those who commit ugly deeds, do so out of ignorance or lack of awareness.
If someone were truly aware, truly wise, they wouldn’t do wrong.
Their wrongdoings come from not knowing.
Sometimes, it’s also from need.
For example: someone offers them money to do harm, or to lie under oath. Out of desperation, they accept.
And so, when you see that their bad actions come from ignorance, lack of understanding, or need, your heart softens.
You feel compassion for them, and you pray for them.
Because you see clearly: in their ignorance, they’re really only hurting themselves.

Those who are ignorant and unaware end up doing harm to others because of their ignorance. But in truth, what they’re really doing is hurting themselves. It’s like someone sitting on a tree branch and sawing it off from the wrong side — they’re effectively cutting themselves down. They’re engaged in self-harm, or even self-destruction. With their own hands, they’re building the tools of their own downfall. And then, based on the situation, you may have to choose: either to forgive them, or to respond to their harm. Your heart aches for them, because you see they’re acting out of ignorance and unawareness. But still, it depends on the circumstances: sometimes you have to forgive, and sometimes you have to answer back.
Decency — righteous action — is never something rigid or formulaic. Life itself isn’t formulaic. There isn’t a fixed manual you can blindly follow. We aren’t mechanical beings who can live by a list of instructions. There might be some general guidelines, but those don’t replace true understanding. They say, “If you’re angry, drink a glass of water,” or “If you’re angry, count to a hundred.” These are like little games — they’re too simplistic. The real solution must come from within, by understanding and addressing the root cause. So it always comes back to the circumstances: sometimes you must forgive; other times you must stand your ground and respond. Sometimes it’s “an eye for an eye,” sometimes “a head for a head,” and sometimes it’s forgiveness and letting go.
God Himself is both merciful and compassionate — yet also overpowering, mighty, and wise.
When someone wrongs you or causes trouble, your response must be chosen according to the situation.
It can’t be said that you should always forgive and never respond, nor that you should always retaliate.
The context — the actual circumstances — determines what is right.
Sometimes you must give; sometimes you must take.
Sometimes you must strike; sometimes you must receive.
Sometimes you must forgive; sometimes you must claim what is yours.
It is the situation itself that shows you what is needed.
Sometimes it’s “a tooth for a tooth,” sometimes “a head for a head,” and sometimes it’s forgiveness and compassion.
Because God is merciful and compassionate — yet also overpowering, mighty, honored, and wise.
And these divine qualities can and should be reflected in us as well.

Then it says:
Pure love reveals itself little by little — and we shouldn’t expect it to appear all at once. If we feel that love appears suddenly, we must understand that what we’re really feeling is excitement and passion. If that excitement is transformed into understanding and awareness, then it can become pure love. Otherwise, it will simply fade away. Love unfolds gradually; it doesn’t come into being in a single instant. You might meet someone and feel “madly in love at first sight” and think it will last forever. But true love doesn’t work that way. Pure love emerges step by step. Maybe first you see each other. Then you say “Hello.”They reply, “Hello.” Then you ask, “How are you?”Where do you live? What’s your phone number? (laughs from the speaker and audience) Step by step, little by little.

You can’t just see someone and immediately say, “Hello, I’m in love with you!” That’s not how it happens. Pure love grows and deepens over time. We shouldn’t expect it to bloom all at once. Yes, sometimes the starting point feels sudden — there’s an initial spark, that thrill. And that thrill often exists at the beginning. But what truly matters is what follows: whether that excitement gradually transforms into understanding and awareness — into something real and lasting. Sometimes it does, and love continues to grow. Other times, it fades away just as quickly as it came. As the saying goes: “In the evening, deeply in love; by morning, it’s already over.” But sometimes, the love endures.

Pure love will never turn into hatred. If love is truly pure, it won’t become hate. Pure love doesn’t throw acid in someone’s face. It doesn’t say, “I love this person so much, but because I can’t have them, I’ll destroy them.” It doesn’t try to ruin them or take revenge. If pure love ever needs to separate, it does so gently, calmly — without turning into hate. But the kind of love we call blind infatuation or reckless passion — the love born purely out of excitement and frenzy — that kind of love can sometimes turn into hatred. It is possible. It’s worth noting, though, that pure love is also filled with passion and excitement — but of a different kind.
Because love, by its nature, is full of intensity and feeling. So, when we say that if love turns into hatred, it wasn’t pure love, we’re not denying that pure love itself has passion. In fact, pure love might even have stronger and deeper excitement — but it’s a different kind, made of something deeper and more genuine.
 

In the end, in this so called Valley, we reach a stage where it isn’t really possible to say with certainty that this comes exactly after that, or that this step must follow that step in a precise order. It’s not like a road trip where, if you want to travel to Tabriz, you know you’ll first reach Karaj, then Qazvin, then Takestan, and then Zanjan.
It’s not that linear. All of these—righteous thinking, righteous faith, righteous actions, pure sense, sound reason, pure love—are deeply interconnected. Step by step, they gradually strengthen each other: A little growth here helps everything else rise; then, as another part improves, it supports the next step, and so on. What matters most, and what we ultimately discover in this Valley, is that every human being, no matter their traits, personality, or position, has the power to transform their past attributes and reach a far better place. And it is our responsibility to do this—to focus more deeply on ourselves and our inner refinement. And the only true way to change our former attributes is through purification and self cleansing. Words alone cannot achieve it. At the end, I’d like to read again the same verse I shared at the beginning, which truly applies to so many of us:

Countless sciences and virtues he may know,
Yet this ignorant soul remains blind to itself.
He can explain the nature of every element,
Yet in knowing his own essence, he stays as lost as a donkey.
End of the Tenth Valley. Thank you.

Translated by: Companion Marjan
6/28/2025