We want, as the Saudi people, to enjoy the coming days and

Hear, O child of sand and sky, the words of Mohammad bin Salman, a prince of the desert and a voice of a nation’s transformation: “We want, as the Saudi people, to enjoy the coming days and concentrate on developing our society and developing ourselves as individuals and families while retaining our religion and customs.” These words rise like a banner carried into the winds of change, declaring both a vision of progress and a reverence for tradition. For here is the tension that has faced every people since the dawn of civilization: how to move forward into the new without severing the roots of the old.

Consider first the longing to enjoy the coming days. It is the yearning of a people to look toward the horizon with hope, not fear. Nations weary of conflict or stagnation desire to taste joy, prosperity, and renewal. This is not merely the pursuit of luxury, but the ancient human cry for dignity and flourishing—for music in the streets, for opportunity in the fields of work, for laughter around the family hearth. Every nation, in its own time, has spoken this longing.

Yet progress cannot be only outward. Bin Salman speaks of the need to develop society and develop ourselves as individuals and families. This is wisdom: for no nation can rise if its citizens remain bound in ignorance or weakness. To build schools and industries without cultivating minds and hearts is to construct towers upon sand. True development is both outward and inward—economies thriving, but also character strengthened; cities gleaming, but also families rooted in honor, respect, and compassion.

But here lies the heart of the challenge: how to grow while still retaining religion and customs. History tells us that many nations, in their pursuit of progress, cast aside their traditions, and in doing so lost part of their soul. Yet others clung so tightly to the past that they withered, unable to adapt to the changing world. The wisdom lies in balance—to let religion and customs be not chains but anchors, holding a people steady as they move forward, reminding them of who they are even as they become something new.

Behold the example of Japan in the nineteenth century. Faced with Western powers and modern weapons, they embraced technology, industry, and new knowledge. Yet they did not abandon the Shinto shrines, the reverence for ancestors, or the beauty of their customs. They walked the narrow path of transformation without erasing their essence. In this, we see a reflection of Bin Salman’s vision: to modernize while remaining faithful, to open new doors without burning the old ones.

The meaning of his words is thus not only for his people but for all who seek renewal: a nation must grow, and its people must evolve, but if they cut themselves off from their roots, they become like a tree whose branches flourish for a season and then die for lack of nourishment. The wisdom is to carry both—the fire of progress and the lamp of tradition—so that one guides the other.

What lesson, then, must we carry? It is this: do not fear progress, but also do not despise tradition. In your own life, seek to grow, to learn, to transform. Build new skills, embrace new opportunities, and let your mind be open to the world. Yet at the same time, honor your faith, your customs, your family, for they are the foundation of who you are. Without roots, growth collapses; without growth, roots become chains.

Therefore, O seeker of balance, remember the wisdom of these words: enjoy the coming days, develop yourself, but retain your sacred traditions. In this balance lies the secret of endurance. Nations rise and fall, but those who weave together the strength of their past with the promise of their future walk a path that endures through generations. Live as such a nation lives: both grounded and soaring, both ancient and new.