In recent centuries, ways of knowing have increasingly narrowed toward mastery, prediction, and control. Thought is trained to stand apart from what it knows; the world is approached as an object to be managed, optimized, or overcome. In this shift, something subtle yet profound is lost: the capacity to be addressed by the world rather than merely to act upon it.

Architecture has not been immune to this transformation. Spaces are too often shaped by abstraction, efficiency, and power, while the deeper questions of presence, meaning, and inward orientation recede into the background. What disappears is not form or technique, but a mode of attentiveness—an understanding of building as participation in an ordered reality rather than its domination.

Hikmah emerges here not as nostalgia, nor as critique, but as recovery: a remembering of ways of knowing in which the soul, the world, and the act of making remain intimately entwined.