As-salamu alaikum,
In tonight’s video (https://youtu.be/Hf-UN97I9FM), I told you about the college student who felt completely alone despite being surrounded by people.
Let me tell you about the loneliest year of my life.
It was my first year of medical school. Although I graduated from UCF in Orlando, the only medical school where I received an acceptance for that year was in Arizona, clear across the country. USF in Tampa had offered me a position for the next year, but my father told me that it was always smarter to take what was immediately available, and he was right.
Medical school is brutal. Lectures from 8am straight through to 4 or 5pm daily. Then studying for several hours every night. Time off, especially that first year, was rare.
And when I did have time off, I was so exhausted and could barely connect with anyone. To make it even harder, it was the first time in my life that I was away from my family, who were now on the other side of the country!
I remember sitting in my apartment one Friday night—my first Friday night that month that I didn’t have hours of studying—and realizing: I have nobody to call. Nobody to hang out with. Nobody.
I was 21 years old, in the prime of my life. And completely, devastatingly alone.
That year taught me something I wish I’d known sooner: Loneliness isn’t a sign that something’s wrong with you. It’s a sign that you’re in a season of transition. And transition is where growth happens.
The Neuroscience of Loneliness—And Why It Hurts So Much
Here’s something most people don’t know: Loneliness registers in the same part of your brain as physical pain.
When you feel socially isolated, your brain’s pain centers light up on an fMRI the same way they do when you break a bone.
This means: When you say “loneliness hurts,” you’re not being dramatic. It literally, physically hurts.
And here’s why from an evolutionary perspective: Humans are pack animals. For most of human history, being alone meant death. No protection = no survival.
So, your brain developed a pain signal—loneliness—to motivate you to reconnect with the group.
But here’s the problem in 2026: Your brain can’t tell the difference between “I’m alone because I’m lost in the wilderness” and “I’m alone because I’m the only Muslim who refuses to compromise.”
The pain signal is the same.
Which means: What you’re feeling is real, valid, and biologically designed. You’re not weak for feeling it.
The Deeper Lesson:
What Salman’s Journey Teaches About Purpose in Loneliness
Salman al-Farisi was alone for years. Not months. Years. Plural.
Think about that.
He left his prestigious family in Persia—guardians of the sacred fire in Zoroastrianism—and traveled alone from teacher to teacher.
Every teacher he found? Died.
Every community he joined? Temporary.
Every sense of home? Lost.
And then, when he finally reached the land where the Prophet ﷺ was prophesied to emerge, he was betrayed and sold into slavery.
Imagine: You’re in the right city. The Prophet ﷺ is there. But you’re enslaved and can’t even access the gatherings to find out if he’s “the one.”
That’s the cruelest form of loneliness—being so close to belonging but blocked from it.
And here’s what's remarkable: Islamic history doesn’t show us Salman despairing.
It shows us three things Salman did during his lonely years:
1. He built knowledge: He didn’t just bounce from teacher to teacher randomly. He learned Christianity deeply. He studied their scriptures. When the last monk told him about the final Prophet, Salman knew exactly what signs to look for.
2. He built character through service: Even as a slave, Salman served. When he finally met the Prophet ﷺ, his reputation preceded him. That’s why years later, when the Muslims needed strategic advice (the Battle of the Trench), the Prophet ﷺ trusted Salman’s counsel.
3. He never abandoned his search: Years of loneliness. Repeated loss. Enslavement. And Salman never gave up looking for truth. That persistence is what led him to the Prophet ﷺ. That’s why the Prophet ﷺ essentially called him a space traveler, saying: “If faith was located at Ath-Thuraiya (Pleiades, the highest star), even then a man from these people (i.e. Salman’s folk) would find a way to reach it.” (Bukhari)
The principle: Don’t waste your lonely seasons waiting for them to end. Use them to become who you need to be for what’s next. And, in that case, know that what’s next is going to be something really special.
That lonely year became the most formative year of my life.
The knowledge I gained. The discipline I built. The relationship with Allah I deepened.
None of that would have happened if I’d been surrounded by people and distracted by socializing.
Allah used my loneliness to prepare me for everything that came after.
And almost thirty years later, I can see it clearly: That season wasn’t wasted. It was essential.
Just like Salman’s years of wandering prepared him to recognize the Prophet ﷺ when he finally found him and to make major contributions to the growing Islamic community.
The Practical Tool (Email-Exclusive):
TONIGHT’S JOURNALING PROMPT:
Part 1: Name the Loneliness
Where do you feel most alone?
At school? (The only Muslim, the weird one, the outsider?)
At the masjid? (Too American, not practicing enough, culturally different, whitewashed?)
At home? (Parents don’t understand, siblings don’t get it?)
Online? (Everyone else has their people?)
Part 2: What Is It Teaching You?
Every season teaches something. What is this loneliness revealing?
What do you actually value in friendship?
What kind of community do you wish existed?
What parts of yourself are you discovering in solitude?
What’s becoming clearer about your purpose?
Part 3: The Salman Question
Salman used his lonely years to:
Build knowledge (studied multiple religions deeply)
Build character (served even as a slave)
Never abandon his search (kept looking for truth despite repeated loss)
What can you learn/build/develop right now that will prepare you for what’s next?
A skill? (Language, Quran memorization, writing, art, coding?)
Knowledge? (Islamic studies, your field of interest?)
Character? (Patience, gratitude, resilience, service?)
Community? (Start something small—a blog, a group, an online space?)
The Resource List (Email-Exclusive):
📖 Read: “The Life of Salman al-Farisi” by Ibn Kathir (available in English translation) - The full story is remarkable
🎧 Listen: “Salman the Persian” by Mufti Menk (YouTube) - Comprehensive overview of his journey
🧠 Reflect: Why do you think Allah allowed Salman—one of the greatest Companions—to experience such profound loneliness for so many years? What does that tell you about the purpose of lonely seasons?
📝 Action: This week, reach out to one person who might be as lonely as you are. Don’t wait for community to find you. Start building it.
🌐 Advanced: Research the ayah 62:3 and the various tafsir commentaries. The Prophet ﷺ pointing to Salman is recorded in multiple sources—what does it mean that Allah included non-Arabs explicitly in this ayah?
The Personal Sign-Off:
Tomorrow, insha Allah: Forgiveness When It’s Really Hard.
Until then: Your loneliness is not a punishment. It’s preparation for greatness.
And just like Salman went from a monastery to the arms of the last Prophet ﷺ, you’re being prepared for a belonging you can’t see yet.
Dr. Ali
P.S. - Hit reply and tell me: Are you in a lonely season right now? What’s one thing you’re learning from it?
You’re not alone in feeling alone. And this season is building you for something you can’t see yet.
Just like Salman. Just like me during that first year of medical school. Just like every person who ever found their people after wandering alone.
And lastly, I could always use a few extra good friends, so count me among yours if you need a friend. I’m only an email away.