بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
"Your life you must one day ponder
So evaluate and remember
Now and not later
Now and not later."
- Muhammad al Haddad
I had the great opportunity to attend a blessed gathering a few days ago. But truth be told, the most peaceful moment for me that night was when I returned home, stepped out of the car, and raised my eyes to gaze at the luminous crescent and crystal-clear night sky. While resting my head against the car door and inhaling the frigid winter air, I had to ask myself yet again, "Where are you going?"
It seems I've been asking myself this question for a long time. Thoughts that I scribbled in books some nine years ago are no different, in essence, than much of what I've written on this blog. I don't find myself any stronger, but I only see a deep weakness. Sometimes we need this weakness, sometimes. Regardless of my state, may I never find myself ungrateful.
I'm regularly flirting with ideas of travelling or with sipping at the fountain of engaging thoughts. Although I have made attempts in various life progressions, I'm still standing impoverished and unchanged. Entirely unchanged. I'm still waiting for the rain, though I wonder if I should be really waiting or rather I should welcome its unexpected arrival. At the heart of it, I can't help but consider this helplessness a great blessing. Nothing of my hopes or endeavours have materialized, and yet I know that my Lord is taking care of my affairs. But I also know that I'm not right with Him, and within that which He has empowered me to do, I must make a mark - as insignificant as it may be. I must. Again, I wonder how. From here, so smoothly is the voice of a stone released...
***
It feels unreal. Perhaps like a chapter from a book. A fish in his bowl listens to the words, and it is nothing more than that. Words or some imaginary phenomenon that lasts only as long as one is reading the tale. This is life in my eyes.
If my silence whispered anything to a listening ear, one who dares engage my presence, a presence that only inhales oxygen and exhales carbon dioxide, it would say, "I don't want the sun, moon, or stars, but truth." What is truth? For me, it is to stand in the midst of the desert, with chapped skin, dusty robes, and nothing more than an aura of peace and contentment. Gone is the crown of a title, the status of earnings, the value of aesthetics, the strength in oratorship, the tangibles. In the desert, silence allows the soul to speak and leaves hearts to rest.
The desert need not be formed of heat and sand dunes. Whatever its form, ya nafsi, it is where we must be, by the grace and permission of Allah, most glorified is He.
Written on March 26, 2010
So evaluate and remember
Now and not later
Now and not later."
- Muhammad al Haddad
I had the great opportunity to attend a blessed gathering a few days ago. But truth be told, the most peaceful moment for me that night was when I returned home, stepped out of the car, and raised my eyes to gaze at the luminous crescent and crystal-clear night sky. While resting my head against the car door and inhaling the frigid winter air, I had to ask myself yet again, "Where are you going?"
It seems I've been asking myself this question for a long time. Thoughts that I scribbled in books some nine years ago are no different, in essence, than much of what I've written on this blog. I don't find myself any stronger, but I only see a deep weakness. Sometimes we need this weakness, sometimes. Regardless of my state, may I never find myself ungrateful.
I'm regularly flirting with ideas of travelling or with sipping at the fountain of engaging thoughts. Although I have made attempts in various life progressions, I'm still standing impoverished and unchanged. Entirely unchanged. I'm still waiting for the rain, though I wonder if I should be really waiting or rather I should welcome its unexpected arrival. At the heart of it, I can't help but consider this helplessness a great blessing. Nothing of my hopes or endeavours have materialized, and yet I know that my Lord is taking care of my affairs. But I also know that I'm not right with Him, and within that which He has empowered me to do, I must make a mark - as insignificant as it may be. I must. Again, I wonder how. From here, so smoothly is the voice of a stone released...
It feels unreal. Perhaps like a chapter from a book. A fish in his bowl listens to the words, and it is nothing more than that. Words or some imaginary phenomenon that lasts only as long as one is reading the tale. This is life in my eyes.
If my silence whispered anything to a listening ear, one who dares engage my presence, a presence that only inhales oxygen and exhales carbon dioxide, it would say, "I don't want the sun, moon, or stars, but truth." What is truth? For me, it is to stand in the midst of the desert, with chapped skin, dusty robes, and nothing more than an aura of peace and contentment. Gone is the crown of a title, the status of earnings, the value of aesthetics, the strength in oratorship, the tangibles. In the desert, silence allows the soul to speak and leaves hearts to rest.
The desert need not be formed of heat and sand dunes. Whatever its form, ya nafsi, it is where we must be, by the grace and permission of Allah, most glorified is He.
Written on March 26, 2010
2 comments:
MashAllah...Awesome and truly educative..
The picture reminds me of the day I was in the middle of the desert walking 30KM from the village of Shaykh Hajj Fahfu to a car accessible area. Allahu Kareem
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