The Breath of Longing

Image: “Aarakta Shyam” (2012), acrylic on canvas, by S. H. Raza.

Ya Fattāḥ, The Opener

remind us of the nectar we once tasted,

and through it,

unfold for us the path we are meant to take.

The breath of longing is the one that gives birth at the void place of the spiral, the first tremor of the spiral. It begins at the moment the soul leans forward, moved by an old echo and is drawn by a breath it has not yet remembered but wants to be seen, to be acknowledged. Within us there is an empty space filled with a possibility we have always known.

The Heart Remembers Before We Do

The human heart carries a primordial memory, a subtle fragrance from the realm before form, an inner knowing that we come from a place of wholeness. It remembers the Breath that shaped it, the Presence that called it into existence.

This is our fitrah: the pure, innate nature fashioned by the Divine, inscribed with the Names and qualities through which the Beloved is known: compassion, wisdom, strength, light.

Before any wound, story, or experience touched us, these qualities were already within us.

Longing is simply the heart recognising what it has always carried and gently pointing us back to our original wholeness.

A Reflection on the Heart’s Hidden Vastness

Let us reflect on the teachings of these 3 sources that invite us to meet at the same point: the vastness within the human heart.

The Hadith Qudsi tells us:

“Neither My earth nor My heavens could contain Me, but the heart of My believing servant contains Me.”

The invitation for this awareness of intimacy between heavenly and the earthly suggests that the heart is not merely an emotional centre: it is a sanctuary, a mirror, a place of meeting between the human and the Divine.

Imam Ali (as) then turns this truth inward:

“Within you is the hidden treasure; you wander distracted, searching for it outside.”

Here, the treasure is not something to be acquired, but something to be uncovered. The heart already contains what the mind is restless to find. Much of our pain comes from seeking externally what has always lived quietly within us.

And Rumi, in the song of the reed, gives voice to the ache:

“Listen to the reed and the tale it tells…whoever is separated from the Source longs to return to the moment of union.”

He is describing the same treasure, the same sanctuary, but from the perspective of longing. The reed longs for the reedbed. The soul longs for its Source. The heart longs to remember its own light.

Longing in Our Everyday Lives

So often we hear the quiet echo inside:

“I feel empty.”

“I feel lost.”

“I don’t know who I am.”

“There is something missing.”

But beneath these words, it is the heart calling us back home. The ache is not a sign of brokenness, it is a sign of life. The emptiness is not failure, it is the space where the treasure waits. The restlessness is not pathology, it is the first stirring of return.

Every human being, regardless of faith or background, carries this hidden capacity, this inner vastness, this yearning for wholeness.

It whispers:

“You already hold what you seek.

Your longing is the lantern that lights the way back.

Your heart is the place where the Divine chooses to dwell.”

And so, the First Breath begins in longing, not as deficiency, but as a sacred invitation to return. To remember. To come home. Healing and the alignment of the heart move through life’s dualities, joy and sorrow, abundance and lack, yet through all of them, the heart is guiding us back to the One who breathed us into being.

A Gentle Practice for the First Breath

Wherever you are, allow yourself a moment.

1. Sit or stand comfortably.

Let your shoulders soften.

2. Inhale slowly through the nose for a count of 4.

As you breathe in, imagine the breath touching the empty space within your chest.

3. Hold softly for 2 seconds.

Allow the longing to be felt — without fear, without judgment.

4. Exhale for 6.

As you breathe out, silently whisper: “I return.”

5. Repeat this for three breaths.

Notice what rises, a softening, a warmth, a memory, a quiet sense of being accompanied.

This is the First Breath: the heart recognising the path home.