Weighing Words: Yours vs. Mine

BismiLahir Rahmanir Raheem

*What if you knew about all that I do? The things that I think? The me that is true? Would you call me a hypocrite? Call me a liar? Would you curse out my name or would you damn me to fire? Would you know what to say or would you just walk away afraid the me I've tried to hide would too closely resemble the truth of you that lies inside?*
- Dawud W. Ali
"Communication, communication, communication" is said to be the key to successful relationships. This advice sounds as good as the golden rule to good real estate "location, location, location." But buying a house on a busy, main road is going to drive any sane person nuts just as any store owner will be bored out of his mind (and surely out of business) with a store in the middle of farmland. My point you ask? Well, let's put communication into perspective because sometimes it seems not to work as well as we'd like.

Successful communication requires the interlocutors to understand each other with few or no baseless assumptions about the other. The message from person A reaches and is understood by person B as clearly as person A thought of it in his/her own mind. Quite a feat, eh? It's not a wonder that most conversations require some level of clarification. Nonetheless, this blessing of communication seems to work, perhaps not as perfectly as described above, but that's because most topics aren't sensitive enough to notice a lack of precision in understanding. What happens though when the topic is sensitive to either party and where the dialogue seems to progress only slightly if at all? No doubt, such a case would necessitate tact, diplomacy, and consideration for the receiver's reaction to whatever is coming from the other interlocutor. Simple enough, right?

Nope! Not that simple... This is where it seems to all go down the drain with all parties claiming to have had good intentions and not responsible for the other person's misunderstanding. Good intentions do not negate a person's negative response to a well-intended action, but instead they facilitate efforts in the reconciliation process. Communication is a two-way process, and where it fails, it requires an effort from both sides to reach a solution. It is not fair to say, "Well I meant it in a good way, therefore he/she can't feel that way as a result of what happened."

No one has the right to say that another "cannot" or "should not" feel a certain way about something. All feelings are valid, even if they stem from miscommunication. And because each feeling is valid, they must be addressed with care so as to fill in the blanks and readdress the areas of confusion and misunderstanding. To illustrate, a lady once told me that her husband thinks she hates him. She undervalued his feelings on the basis that she knows she doesn't hate him and attributed his claim perhaps to his own personal issues. After some exploration, we soon discovered reasons that may have contributed to her husband feeling as though she didn't care much for him. She finally made the effort to understand his feelings, a first step towards solving their problems.

Communication is a messy process sometimes, but giving the other person the benefit of the doubt and trusting our loved ones to be sincere with us is a starting point of enjoyable dialogue, one that can withstand even a hurricane. It seems to me that communication can only make remarkable leaps when we ask ourselves "What did he/she understand?" instead of "What did I mean?"

Just don't ever forget, it's not all about you or me... it's about us.

Smile. There's light at the end of every dark tunnel, God willing!

O Lord, let our return to You be sweet, our lives be fruitful, our relationships be beautiful, and our every moment bear witness to Your greatness, ameen.

Mercy like the rain...

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

Written July 5, 2007 - Selected portions of an e-mail...

So you might be wondering why I'm online at this time, that is if you figured out this isn't my normal online time. It's 9 PM now. I had been online before Maghrib. I was talking to someone and it was pourrring. Well guess what? When it came time to leave the Internet cafe all I saw was a flooded street. So for me to leave I would have to walk right in the rain water that poured down the street. It was fine the first couple of steps until I stepped off the curb and onto the road, which of course was deeper. My shoes and bottom of my pants were, of course, soaked! And I had to go buy some dinner.. So I went to the supermarket with my completely soaked shoes, bought some tomatoes, tuna, water, and juice. Then I went to the bakery, and finally made my way home. [Btw, I didn't mind walking in the flood waters... the closest to swimming I'll get for some time.] SubhanAllah, in front of the supermarket there are the regular people who sit at the curb there, beggars and vendors. Their faces are all too familiar to me now. One of the beggars, who has a crippled hand saw me coming toward the curb near the supermarket and told me to go around a bit because of the drain. There were a few people there trying to direct me so I could avoid the drain that was of course in a big spiral with all the water. SubhanAllah... every day I pass these people and feel such a shame overcome me when I leave their opened hands empty. SubhanAllah. I really have to go to a bank and get some change. I can't live like this where I pass them everyday and give them nothing.

As I left the bakery, an old (and I mean old!) man asked me for money. I dug into my bag and gave him a handful of coins. I think he was surprised cuz most ppl just give one coin. SubhanAllah.. really it's something. When something different from the norm strikes, the reality of our existence kind of sets in. Meaning in this context, I pass these people everyday, and somehow I manage to sleep at night having given them no money. Yet when it poured and the street was flooded, without any benefit to themselves, they advised me how to get to the curb in a way that would keep me safer. SubhanAllah. We're all just people. We all come from different walks of life and we have different challenges ahead of us. Yet if we forget to use our resources or we make excuses for using our resources to benefit others, we really have missed the point entirely. SubhanAllah. I can't get over it.

That's the first time I've been in the "flood." (The water has since subsided. The entire street wasn't flooded, just this side of the road... a good few meters from the curb of the stores I came out of and needed to go into). Oh, so why am I back at the Internet cafe? Well, cuz I went home and I was thinking about the files I sent to my sister from the MP3 player and remembered that in my fascination with the rain, I neglected to take the MP3 player out of the USB port. But the dudes here know me. And when I came in and asked him if he saw my MP3 player, he was already reaching into the drawer to get it for me.

Most of the people that I've encountered here in Sana'a are really, really good... masha'Allah. As people tried to find some shallow water with the flooded streets, we walked at the edges, on the 'sidewalk' (slightly elevated ground). I was walking towards my gate (by my house) and there were some men in front of me walking towards me. One stood in the crook of a doorway so I could pass easily, and the other literally stepped into the flooded water on the road so I could pass. I didn't mind stepping into it, but the fact that he did was a display of good adab... masha'Allah. May Allah reward them all, ameen.

As I go to sleep tonight, bed bugs and/or mosquitos will likely meet me... and that's okay because I know that today the people of the streets are going to have an even more difficult night. There's a makeshift house here on the street... I wish you could see it... I thank Allah every time for what I have..alhamduliAllah.

When I went home and made wudhu for Esha just now (before coming here to the Internet cafe), I saw a cockroach in my bathtub again. I decided to ignore it. It crawls out from the drain, and as I watched it, it crawled back in. They have their space, and I have mine. AlhamduliAllah for all. But yes, I know, if it gets further than the vicinity of the drain, I will have to kill it... and hopefully it will be a short ordeal for the both of us.

With that my dears, consider this ramble over. Take care of yourselves. Be happy, safe, and keep striving. May Allah guide us all, ameen!

Release

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

Can't stop them from flowing
Rivers too precious for some to hold
Pebbles marking our graves when we die
Searching for the answer as to why we cry...

The reflection is unbearably hideous
The sand of the hourglass cultivating no change
Shovel out the dirt and settle in
Enthusiasm spent in the face of great sin

Hide beautiful rainbow
Shattered stained glass, a new emblem
Cradling selfish turmoil, seemingly endless
With peace's absence lives remain friendless

Freedom is philosophized to no end
Words feeding the already satiated
Battling with pangs of inevitable hunger
Soon to be lying six feet under...

Written January 13, 2008

A Passing Thought...

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

My mind is a remix of the sweetest kind, though I am still trying to find some coherence in my thoughts. Soon enough, it will come together, insha'Allah, but for now, I must write.

But what should I write about? How about love? I've previously written about this topic, but there are many things in recent months that have affected my understanding of this overly-used, hardly-lived word.

We limit our love in so many ways. While there are many philosophical sentences that could attempt to get at the essence of this word, they miss their mark because love is something real - lived and experienced.

A few days ago, I went to visit my friend. The day before my visit, she went to the doctor and received several injections making both her arms as stiff as a board on the day I saw her. Her pain was clearly there. We sat together for a while, and then she told me that she had to go out to pick up some things. I accompanied her. Our first stop was to get a jug of water filled with distilled water (this is for people who don't use tap water for cooking). Then we went to their local supermarket and bought some drinking water and some vegetables. We argued a little bit as I insisted that she allow me to carry the basket, since she was obviously in pain. She resisted, but eventually gave in. Fortunately, she also allowed me to pick the vegetables that she needed knowing that she would be in pain if she extended her arms.

I went home that night quite distressed. I couldn't and still fail to understand how her brother, who was at home, well and healthy, as we went shopping could have asked her to run those errands. It would be so simple for him to have gone himself, being the head of their household and a man in a world where men are more involved in the marketplace than women.

When I saw him that night, I told him that I thought he shouldn't send his sister to get the water filled there since its terribly awkward for women to go to an area filled with men. He brushed off my concerns, suggesting ways she could distance herself from them. Generally, he's a nice guy, but my respect for him diminished slightly that night.

In my eyes, the solution was simple. I think of what my family would have done. I know for a fact that no one in my family would have allowed to me to run those errands, let alone asked me, if I was in pain. But never mind what my family would do, we all come from different families... What would our beloved, the beloved of Allah, Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, have done? Would he ever give priority to his comfort over the comfort and ease of others? Never.

So how can we say we love certain people when we put ourselves ahead of them? Love is not selfish. I have little tolerance for selfishness, especially when one allows it to enter a relationship that should be and is said to be enveloped in love.

The world is a lot bigger when it's not about ourselves. And, ironically, I say this when my world is currently all about me.

I've been living alone for the last three months. I don't have anyone else to be directly concerned about, but the bonds of love that I share with some keeps them forever in my thoughts.

I've lived a life of privilege in terms of love. Now, just to hear the voices of the ones that I love is hard to come by, it's infrequent. But my heart is with them.

The pain of separation from loved ones is the price I'm paying for lessons no book could teach. My greatest lesson has been about independence.

Never before have I been alone for so long. This is what people call independence right? For me, independence means depending entirely on my Lord. His love is generous, and some days I feel it. Every day I sense it. Were it not for His love, I wouldn't have been able to survive so long without my loved ones.

A couple of months ago I turned on the TV and I came across a show called "Stairway to Paradise" with Moez Masoud (from Egypt). He was talking about giving up the things we love for the sake of coming close to our Lord. One example he mentioned, simply, was sleep. Do we deny ourselves those extra hours of sleep for the sake of coming closer to our Lord when He tells us to call on Him for anything we may want or need in the pre-dawn hours?

What are we giving up for the sake of the love we claim to have?

Written August 26, 2007

May God guide us to the truth, ameen.

All in a Rose

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

*I don't need nobody. I don't fear nobody. Oh, I don't call nobody but You. My One and Only.... All I need in my life.*
- Outlandish

The day before yesterday someone gave me a beautiful pink rose. The fragrance that it emitted wasn't terribly strong, but its beauty was breathtaking, as I have never before seen in a rose. No, it wasn't a long-stem rose. No, all the leaves weren't flawlessly perfect. But its message was loud and clear.

I generally dislike picking flowers because I know that as I enjoy their beauty, I'm also bearing witness to the last moments of that flower's life. You might call that a pessimistic way to view a picked flower, I just consider it reality. Each rose has life until we remove it from the bush that it stems from, until we separate it from all that it knows, until its natural sustenance is no longer accessible.

Just recently a young man buried his brother. A daughter buried her father. A grandmother struggled as her lungs filled with water, while her daughter wondered when her mother would breathe her last. An uncle currently watches as his niece's development is slowed, uncertain of abilities that we all take for granted. A cousin wonders about the health of her loved ones as they recover from a severe car accident. A nephew buries his uncle. A mother watches her child in pain. A sister, in all her helplessness, surrenders to her tears.

What does that rose tell you? It tells me a lot. Its every breath, every ounce of its beauty is from God. He who gives us all. He who blesses us with so much which we take for granted.

I can't appreciate the life of the rose without bearing witness to her death. I can't appreciate my own life, without reflecting on the death of others. My inevitable end.

Why is it that we are so confident that we will live another day and that another breath is guaranteed when the only guarantee that we have at the very moment of our birth is our death? We've been promised our death. It's coming. When, where, how, .. we don't know. But it's on its way. Each word that you read here it taking you one word closer, one breath closer, to breathing your last.

Live preparing for your death, and your life will become sweet, God willing.

And know that Allah will test us. He already has, and He will continue to so. Be ready for it. Submit to Him. And smile, you will find your peace with Him. Only Him.

O my Lord, thank You for all that You have blessed me with, for all that You have tried me with, for all that You shelter me from, for all that You guide me to. Take us all back to You in peace.

Shukr wa Sabr

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

I recently wrote a blog entry in my notebook, at about 12 am while perched upon my sleeping bag, but somehow I think it will remain in the notebook. I wrote it because I was thinking of you all, those who have shared your perspectives and opinions with me on this blog and those who I know read in silence.

I feel in some way that I should share something with you, something beneficial from my experiences over the last month. SubhanAllah... I'm just not sure where to begin.

I'm currently in a land far away from everyone that I love and everything that looks like home. But this land itself is not problematic for me, especially not as I live here only one day at a time. I think of myself as a traveller, despite the commitment of some sort to stay here for a couple of months, insha'Allah.

My heart feels heavy today. Maybe it was because all of yesterday it was just me, myself, and my thoughts, with my Lord forever with me. Most days I speak only to my teacher during a short two hour class. Every few days I visit a friend and her family. But what I describe is not loneliness. I'm much too connected to the ones I love to feel alone. And I know, truly I am never alone.

But while being alone, without loneliness, and knowing that only my Lord knows my experiences, I can't help but wonder what my life is all about. We have our generic answers for our purpose. Yes we worship our Lord. But our purpose is not to worship Him, it is to know Him. How do we come to know Him? Do we need to clean our souls (anfus)? If we do need this, how do we do this? How does it feel? How do we know that we are on the right path?

I have felt contentment and ease for most if not all of my time here. Yet while here, Allah has sent a test for me and all the people that I love. The response has been gratitude because there is good in this test, but the heart needed its grieving time and tears have been a part of this experience. Every previous taste of heartache that I have known I have deserved. But this one was delivered.

I know there is wisdom in the plan that Allah has for us. I submit to His plan, though I don't know it. I don't know what I'm here for, but it must be for something. There must be a reason that I would be so far from my loved ones when we all have been presented with a situation that we must use to improve ourselves.

How will I ever improve? I'm so weak. I know it. I sense it. Allah hears me. I know He knows me better than I know myself, but I want to know His response to me and my state. What must I do? Where is my strength?

I suppose all the above I've written for myself. Why I write it here, I have no idea. Perhaps I will delete it soon enough. But if you can make sense of it, find the light within it, then please share it with me. In my quest for light, I trust my Lord, but the tunnel is still too dark for me that I'm not sure if I'm going the right way. My soul is much too dirty.

Something that you may benefit from? Hmm... well, I'll share with you some of what I wrote for you those minutes past midnight.

Each day as I walk along these bustling streets, I see people who are poor beyond our comprehension. My sleeping bag, as I see it, is more than I deserve as others sleep on the filthy concrete somewhere alongside the streets. Allah has blessed me tremendously.

Each day as I have to figure out what to eat (as I keep little food at home, given that I have no stove or fridge and have no plans on buying them now), I know that I have the life of luxury where I, alhamduliAllah, have the money to go buy a bottle of water for 17 cents or a shawarma for 25 cents. I once passed by a child sitting alongside the street. She probably didn't notice me as she was very busy concentrating on her task at hand; that is, she was trying to stick her little fingers into the neck of an empty bottle in an effort to try to get every last drop of sustenance out of it. Ya Rab! I submit to Your plan. Make us almong the grateful, ameen. There are many children like her and many more with few items that serve as inventory for their street-side businesses.

I saw a pair of boys the other day. They were the sweetest little boys, masha'Allah. I smiled at them, but they couldn't see my smile given that I have my niqaab on. I hope they saw it in my eyes. The younger one smiled at me though as he knew I watched them. It was a shy smile. They sat in front of an overturned cardboard box - the front desk of their store. Sitting atop the box were some candies. I should have bought something from them. I saw a man pass by. He stopped and touched one of each type of candy on their little display, only to walk away having bought none. The older boy ran into the restaurant that I stood in front of as I waited for my burger. He managed to get some bread, and he took it back to the younger boy. They shared that piece of bread with a little argument in between which I couldn't hear nor would I have understood.

These are our children. They really are. But while I feel for them and my heart breaks for them, what do I do? What can I do?

Ramadhaan is ever in mind for me as it marks the date when I must move on from here, God willing. But we must all take our personal journeys to find truth. Truth is not vain. Truth is sincere. Truth is peace. Truth is tranquility. Love is truth.

As Ramadhaan fast approaches, let's take a breather from nafsi, nafsi, nafsi (me, me, me) and look to where can benefit others. I tell myself this first because if my nafs thinks for even a second that me being alone or in a strange environment makes me anything more than anyone else or worth more than a speck of dust, it is sadly mistaken. As Shaykh Hamza Yusuf once reminded us, the problem with delusions is that the deluded one does not see his/her own delusion.

May our Lord bless us with clear hearts filled with His haqq, and may He protect us from our selfish delusions, ameen.

Hibernation

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

How long do bears hibernate for anyway? I guess the answer to that question has little relevance to the rest of this post (given that I'm not a bear... blogging bears don't exist, do they?)

I'm obviously not in a great a position to write coherent and reflective thoughts right now, nonetheless I will continue. I've tried to use this blog as a medium to articulate thoughts that sometimes could only be said best in writing. If I attempted to verbalize them, I think they would have made little sense.

I love the greatness in writing and all that the art represents. I think it's such a miraculous gift from God. SubhanAllah. Really. Think about it. There are so many languages in the world, so many ways of sharing information and knowlege, but were we limited to verbal communication only, there is no way we would be able to preserve the details of the immense wisdom of the past. SubhanAllah. It is not a wonder that God swears by the pen (al qalam).

With that said though, I've decided that it is time to put this bad boy into hibernation. A few months back, I was going to cease blogging. When I realized that there wasn't much benefit in that, I changed my mind. But now, it is time to let go again. I'm not sure for how long. I'm not sure if it will lead to this blog's eventual death. Regardless, I figured that if there are people who visit this blog, the least you deserve is to know that I don't intend to post here for an indefinite amount of time, best known to Allah.

It's time for me to reunite with the pen and its loyal companion of paper. It's time for me to take my reflections to a different arena and hope that through it, God willing, I will be able to live beyond mere words. Reflections are great, but frequent writers can sometimes unintentionally belittle the worth of such an art, and thus periods of silence are required. (You see, there is greatness in what we call "writer's block.")

For those who have read and continue to read this blog with interest and appreciation, may God reward you with the best of rewards and may you have found benefit in the thoughts that I've shared with you.

Some final thoughts [Multifaceted, you ask? But of course!]: treasure your values of goodness/peace/justice, your faith, and all the little things in life that make you who you are - embrace positive change and enlightened experiences - move through life like a gentle breeze and a calming wave - keep the company of those who remind you about life's true worth - and last but not least, keep smiling, for truly God is the Most Kind, and our return is to Him.

O Lord, send Your peace and blessings on Muhammad and the family and companions of Muhammad, and guide us all to be a part of his ummah, ameen!

The Power of One

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

Time has passed all too quickly
And now it silences a voice much too swiftly
Directionless seemed the only sign in sight
All efforts for progression eventually took flight

Arduous labour and strife bore no immediate fruits
Tension and confusion forced the return to one's roots
Where opportunity lay open for the walls to crumble
The power of trust prevented a stumble

Now looking from outside, the truth cannot be seen
It's not about illusions or chasing age-old dreams
There really is something greater in this quest ahead
Hidden in a vision of struggle for one unwed

It's impossible after commitment to cower at a challenge
Face it head on, manifest your oath, and life you'll manage
But where your intentions are reduced to something minuscule
Your sacrifices will be worthwhile only in the eyes of a fool

So take this as a reminder to hold your ground
Don't abandoned the trust but wear it as your crown
Move away from the constrains that cause deceptive grief
For trust in the One has and always will be your best source of peace

Insha'Allah!

Waves of Silent Surrender

BismiAllah

*The rhythm of surrender is a part of who we are with each heartbeat and involuntary blink of our eyes, a part of us we can't deny.*
- Dawud. W. Ali

There are times when there is so much to be said, but no way of saying it. Where only silence can speak, and voices must surrender. I can only sing the song if I know the words. The rhythm is with me, but I fade into the background.

Trust. Can we? Do we? Should we? We must. But each situation is unique. Trust is not a privilege for all. It's sacred. Trust cannot exist where security is compromised or uncertain. Where or how can we be convinced of our safety?

Love. The silence of surrender.

Determination. It comes through, but only in a good way if one's perception of reality isn't twisted by the belief that success was controlled by the self, or that one is entitled to the good of one's life. Determination is a gift, and seeming success is a reward that comes as relief after patiently persevering through hardships on the path of seeking goodness.

Loss. No losses need to exist. Nothing is lost when you look for the depths that can be gained. No pain, no time, no effort has to be futile; but it must be accompanied by perseverance of the greatest kind. The kind that serves no human or that answers to nothing of creation.

Sometimes when we think too hard, the path to peace becomes blurred. Sometimes the brain deserves a break and a chance to exhale.

Most times, we just have to ride the wave. Come what may, with values, faith, and the desire for eternal peace, the path is attainable. Some waves are smooth sailing and others are tough, but every wave will pass. Every wave will give you the strength that you need at the time that you need it but only if you allow yourself to see it as a vehicle en route to your destination.

If you focus on the process, the goal will come into sight. But if you focus on the goal, the process will become a difficult blur.

By the grace of God, success is measured by Him and success is only possible through Him. His plan we trust, and to Him do we submit.

May He guide us, protect us, and bestow His peace upon us all, ameen.

The Humble River - "Thinking Blogger Award"

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

"You can find sometimes in rivers what you don't find in oceans."
- Arabic proverb
So I've been "tagged" as they say in the blog world. I'm not too sure how these things work, but as long as I'm not sitting here writing about my favourite food, colour, and beverage, it's all good. So thanks to the sister who has a kind opinion about me and my incoherent reflective thoughts, and who has left me with some food to digest. Mucho gracias amiga.

There's an appeal to this particular game of tag though. From what I've gathered, it is a way of expressing appreciation for another's thoughts, as articulated on blogs. I have a great appreciation for those who think intelligently. It demonstrates a wholeness in their character, at least in the blurred vision of a fellow human who can only comment on what I observe or experience.

Those who think outside the box, those who challenge the nonsensical ways of society, and those who go beyond whining while they build on profound concepts that already exist tend to impress me. And why not? God has blessed them with gifts, and I pray that we can all benefit from those gifts.

Just this afternoon, I was thinking about a discussion that my sister and I had years ago about praise. We were talking about Brother Dawud W. Ali, and I believe she mentioned then that there is hadith that says something to the effect that excessive praise of a person is like throwing sand in their eyes. It doesn't benefit a person, and it can unintentionally cause them harm. Praise has its place among humans; but if not delivered in the right dose and with a pinch of wisdom, it can breed a lot of diseases in the heart.

In my eyes, the most beautiful cloak that a woman can wear is made with threads of hayaa' (loosely translated as bashfulness) and compassion. And the beautifying cloak of a man, in my eyes, is made with threads of humility and generosity.

With that said, there aren't many blogs that I read. Hands down, I can easily select my favourite thought-inspiring blog, whose words, delivered with great finesse, often encourage me to delve deeper into my own ideas, by the grace of God. But I'm not going to name it.

Instead, I will extend an appreciation to anyone and everyone who challenges him/herself to think deeper, to go beyond the basics, to utilize the greatness of our minds, and to do this all with the intention of becoming better humans and tapping into the gifts that God has blessed humans with. As Shaykh Hamza Yusuf said in one lecture, Muslims today have held onto our belief in God but we have abandoned our intelligence in this belief. And non-Muslims have adopted our ancestors' ways of intelligent thinking and left the idea of faith. Glory be to God.

It's well past time for us to think, don't you think?

The pebble of appreciation lays comfortably in the riverbed of thought while the river itself continues to flow with peaceful elegance.

May the All Knowing guide us all to benefit from the rivers that may run through our lives, offering their wisdom in capsules of humble submission to the One deserving of all praise, ameen.

Meeting Preparations

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

A teacher once said that the sahabas' yearly focus revolved around the month of Ramadhan. For about six months following Ramadhan, the sahabas used to seek God's forgiveness for having not made the most of the blessed month. The remaining part of the year would be used to prepare for the upcoming Ramadhan.

This past weekend my brother reflectively and matter-of-factly mentioned that Ramadhan is just around the corner. I was actually quite surprised that he had mentioned this, so I decided to calculate how long we have left. Okay, well Rabbi Al-Awwal is over or just about over at least... Hmm.. so there are about five months left until Ramadhan.

But what can we do to prepare for this blessed month?

Often in Sha'baan people ask me if I'm ready for Ramadhan. I'm never really quite sure how to answer the question, or even worse what they mean when they're asking it. How am I supposed to be ready? Do you mean is the freezer filled with samosas, both the chicken/beef and vegetable varieties? My answers alternate from, "I'm as ready as I can be" to "I hope so" to the most honest of all "I don't think I'll ever be ready."

Sometimes it feels like we have fallen into a similar trap that many (though not all, of course) of our Christian counterparts experience each week as their religious teachings have little bearing in their lives except on Sunday.

Maybe this year can be different for me and for us all. Maybe.

So what can we do? Below I have compiled a list, primarily for my benefit, of ways to try to get out of my self-destructive hole. Although I know that I am weak, it will at least serve as as reminder, God willing. Even if this effort doesn't bear any fruits for me, I can only hope that it can or it will for any eyes that may meet these words.

1) Become timely with all five of our daily prayers, and focus our hearts in our prayers.
2) Read more of the Quran each day.
3) Listen attentively to the recitation of the Quran.
4) Learn more about the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), his way, his life, etc. and send more greetings to him, salla Allahu 'alayhi wa salam.
5) Participate in wholesome community activities.
6) Listen to lectures (these are easily available online) or attend classes regarding Islamic matters as a way to inspire us to improve.
7) Find ways to express compassion to loved ones, colleagues, and those who we surround ourselves with.
8) Attempt voluntary fasts, perhaps three times a month (on the 13th, 14th, and 15th of each lunar month) or on each Monday and Thursday - both of which were practices of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). As a shaykh once said, "sawm nurtures taqwa" (fasting nurtures God consciousness).
9) Work on improving our character, rectifying our errors, and repenting for our sins.
10) Work on developing a relationship with Allah, a relationship that we are all responsible for developing ourselves. Whatever you consider beautiful and necessary in a relationship, even complaining, take it to Allah.
11) Make a sincere effort to reflect on the bounties, blessings, and signs of Allah in all aspects of our existence.
12) And if we cannot do any of that, then perhaps we can at least try to grasp the essence of our deen again. This lecture is a good place to being: True Spirit of Islam. [The filming itself is blurry, but it is still very audible, and thus beneficial, insha'Allah. I'd suggest you just listen to it instead of messing with your eyes by trying to watch it.]
13) Oh, consider this a bonus point: Elements of Success.

Hoping to meet Ramadhan in a better state this year compared to last year is simply a means, God willing, to get us to the sweetest of all ends - being close to our Lord.

What more do we need?

*What a wonderful world this would be if we open our eyes to see He is all that we need right now, and we can all come together somewhere, somehow.*
- Zain Bhikha

Update: 2007-04-18

Here's a nice nasheed that resonates with me and gets to the heart of it. It's simplistic enough for a child to grasp, yet something that we can reflect on as adults. Absorb the message, insha'Allah. May Allah help us all, ameen!

The Heart of A Muslim
By Zain Bhikha

The Wind's Wisdom

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

She whistles, she pleads, she strives to move forward - to warn - she's stern, but so timid. She is the howling wind, and she sings my song.

If you were the wind, what message would you share? Have you ever noticed how she sweeps by us as a gentle breeze on some days. She's cooing at us. But her patience is limited. She worries for us so she shows us her serious side. Listen. Listen carefully. Do you hear the tears in her gusts and shrills? Listen harder. What is she saying?

"Remember, remember! I am at the submission of Allah. It is by His will I am. To Him we all belong. Obey Him. Remember the people of 'Aad and how they met their end? Adhere, obey!"

She weeps. But she is strong.

The wind is a sign and a message in itself. It reminds us of Allah's strength and greatness when it howls. It also reminds us of His mercy as it cleans the Earth.

Listen to the lyrics of the wind and contemplate. Turn to Him in repentance while humbled in awe, but never ignore the wind.

[Written on March 10, 2002]

*****
The wind has been howling all night, rousing me from sleep. She tells me that my moments of consciousness from sleep may be my last. She encourages me to seek my Lord's mercy. I fall into the state of minor death again, my dreams filled with discomfort. They show me many things, reminding me of inevitable death. In one instance, a hurricane begins to form only for the purpose of destroying us as we err, and yet a prayer at the moment causes God's mercy to descend and the hurricane to disappear. In the other instance, one is thought to be in deteriorating health and on her way to the next realm of existence.

Deluded by the illusion we call reality, the truth of our real existence, journey, and destination become muddled.

Listen to the wind, and work step-by-step to find your way. He is the Most Kind, the Most Merciful. May our return to Him be sweet. From Him is the only everlasting sweetness. Adhere to the way of eternal success, God willing.

I write this as a reminder to myself. These are the things not worth forgetting.

O Lord, let our return to you be filled with peace and tranquility. Guide us to lead our lives in a way that will earn Your favour and allow us to know You as you want us to know You, ameen.

My Nemesis

BismiAllahir Rahmanir Raheem

Praise be to God, the Most High, the One deserving of all love and dedication.

So where is your sweetness as you face the bitterness of today's reality? Is it in the depths of your home? Do you cherish it and hold it close to your heart? Do you weep when it leaves you? Do you mourn the thought of its demise?

We all have our secret stash of sweets. It's the only way we survive, even if we have presumably everything that one could possibly need to survive. Survival isn't only monetary. It is also spiritual, physical, emotional, and psychological.

I once had a prison. Deep in my mind. It was small, but it was there housing my Nemesis. I couldn't bribe it out of its existence. I couldn't nurture it into a beautiful garden. I tried approaching it, fighting it, scolding it. It didn't budge. I needed a key.

Many hours went by, and days, and weeks, and months. I managed to suppress it into a distant corner, forcing it to watch from afar as I frolicked in my gratefulness over life's comforts. I forced it to listen to my challenges. My aspirations. My reality. It watched for some time, barely making a sound.

And then one day it spoke. Vile words poured from it, and it finally declared its clear intent to a duel. A duel! Now things had gone too far, and I sighed deeply hoping that I could find that key. I searched. Not knowing when the duel would occur, I searched hard.

I sought guidance from those who may know, but none knew whether or where this key existed. I was faced with the prospect of inevitable ruin, but it seemed illogical. No ruin is inevitable, and this was no exception.

Again, I continued my journey far and wide seeking that special key. These travels distracted me from other pressing issues that needed my attention, but faced with a duel, I had little choice but to push on.

It was useless. I wasn't able to find the key. In utter failure, I fell to the ground, and did what my heart knew best. I wept, and wept, and wept. The earth surrounding me filled with these tears. Night came, and I lay in the midst of my tears secretly praying for my miracle.

Dawn finally arrived, bringing with her hope. I looked upon the earth, and there, in a puddle of my own tears lay the key. The key! At last, the key had been found. But how could this be? I had searched the entire space the day before, and yet nothing was there.

Along came a spider, o wise one, to tell me that the key is brittle. It was formed from my tears and the very earth that I tread on the day before.

Ah, so the key never existed! I had to work towards its creation. Rejuvenated, I returned to my prison.

With my newly formed key in hand, I unlocked the doors. There was going to be no duel. My Nemesis graciously walked out. From him, I heard truth. For hours, I listened. I absorbed. I savoured. Truth and more truth. For every minute of that truth, the prison deteriorated slightly until it vanished completely.

This is how I found my freedom. This is how I befriended my Nemesis. This is why I smile.

Where there once lay a prison, a garden of sweets flourish, planted by my Nemesis himself, forever filled with the fragrance of a fresh breeze. Thank you Nemesis.

We all have our sweets, where are yours?

I prefer the way of my Lord over the way of my nafs.
Thank You Allah.

Be Good People...

BismiAllah


Or view it here.

God is the Light of the heavens and the earth;
the likeness of His Light is as a niche wherein is a lamp
the lamp in a glass, the glass as it were a glittering star
kindled from a Blessed Tree
an olive that is neither of the East nor of the West
whose oil is well-nigh luminous, though fire scarce touched it;

Light upon Light!

God guides to His Light whom He will.
And God speaks to mankind in symbols
for God is knower of all things.

Quran - Chapter 24, Verse 35

Comic Relief - That's Life!

BismiAllah

Well I think it's due time for some comics, what do you say? AlhamduliAllah, life is great. Sometimes it's nice to kick back and smile at the way life goes, even if it doesn't go exactly the way we hope.

[Note: Click on images to see them enlarged. The blog template's width doesn't accommodate these comics well. Sorry for the inconvenience.]


*****
And so it is, loneliness can no longer be ignored. You bravely venture into the crazy world to seek a suitable partner.

But it is a lot more difficult than expected.

If at first you do not succeed, try and try again. Finally, you find that lovely significant other, get married, and have a family of your own.

The novelty of marriage soon wears off, and blunt honesty becomes trying.

Somehow, the marriage survives. The sweet children grow up, and the cute cooing sounds of infanthood develop into your nemesis.

Parental love wins through. You hope for a bright future and insist that your children attend school.

But going to school doesn’t necessarily mean earning an education.

Fortunately though, in this crazy cycle we call life, there are friends and loved ones that help us get through.

Keep smiling!

Sweet Dreams

BismiAllah
"Then which of the favours of your Lord will ye deny?"
- Quran [55:13]
It’s not possible. Just because you can dream it, it doesn’t mean you can taste it. It doesn’t mean you deserve to taste it. It doesn’t mean you are entitled to it. Dreams, o sweet dreams.

Sweet dreams are mine, but reality knocks at my door and tells me that my reality is sweet though it is not my dreams.

Am I entitled to complete peace? Without the temptations of my nafs? There is no release from this wonderful trap. Escape is tangled with loyalty. If I escape, will it mean abandonment? Lack of patience?

No. It won’t.

But still, I cannot shake it off. Let it go. It’s not an option for you. Just look in the mirror, and you’ll see truth. Ah, but you have hope in God’s great favours, in His ability to make the impossible possible. In that case, also have hope in the benefit of sorrow, for such will be your flavour. In the least, prepare for it. His decision has been made. Your destiny is no secret to Him.

Prepare, for you’ll likely only learn this the hard way. Again.

Bon Voyage, insha'Allah!

BismiAllah

My sister just e-mailed me a copy of her itinerary which kicks into effect in two days, insha'Allah. I can hardly believe that she'll soon be on her way to Pakistan, a place that she has wanted to visit for a long time.

It goes without saying that I will miss her. Probably more than she’ll miss me since she’ll be too busy with other things and will probably find just enough time to miss her boys (naturally). Nonetheless, I am really happy for her. I think it’s a wonderful opportunity for her to visit a place that has intrigued her, and of course it’s an especially nice chance for her to meet some of her husband’s extended family.

I pray that her trip goes well. I pray that no one gives her or her mother-in-law a hard time wherever they may be. I hope that during their tremendously long flight they both remember to pray for the family and ummah, and the betterment of our world.

Often through partings the soul learns to appreciate what it so often takes for granted. “Distance makes hearts grow fonder,” isn’t it?

Many months ago, as I talked about my own smoke-filled travel ideas, my mother shared some of her motherly greatness. I was telling her that if I went anywhere and never returned, such would be my fate. My time to return to my Creator is written. Of course, my mother knows this (and probably was the one to teach me this), but I thought that perhaps her motherly love was still trying to protect me. Instead, she showed me her love, insight, and strength through words that I will never forget. She said, “It’s not death that I’m worried about… I’m worried about all the possible things, other than death, that may happen to you.” Ya Rabb… ya Rabb…

O Lord, please take them safely and bring them home safely. Ya Allah, we all have our destined time of return to You. I submit to that. Please let that be our best and sweetest moment in life, and please protect us all from the evils of mankind, jinn, and Shaytan, ameen.

A for Effort

BismiAllah

*You gotta try a little, little bit. That's all you have to do........... and God helps do the rest!*
- Adam's World (Brother Dawud W. Ali)

Writing this is entirely a therapeutic endeavour, insha'Allah. I think I need to clear things up in my mind a bit lest I continue my thinking-pacing which will surely annoy one of my family members soon.

So it is that often (certainly not always) in Muslim-run organizations I observe that we only seem to get the "Muslim-run" part and the concept of organization goes out the window. I don't want to complain about it. A for effort for those who start and attempt to run organizations. So fine, it isn't as organized as I'd like, there is currently no tangible curriculum, and there is no back-up plan for the poor substitute who has to leave her lovely lesson plan in the worthy hands of her co-teachers and proceed to teach another class. That's life, get over it. It's not ideal, but I'm okay with it.

So what's the problem? Well, that I hate, or strongly dislike, having a class just to pass the time. If they don't learn anything, if they don't go home having enjoyed the lesson because they engaged with the work, then I feel that I fail in my duty as a teacher. My duty is not to pass two hours of time and hope that perhaps, mayhap, they'll grasp something. I want them to think. I want them to learn. I want them to challenge themselves. And I want them to appreciate the process.

Too idealistic, eh? Fine, I see your point. But the bar has to be set high. Realistically, I know it will take a heck of a lot, from both the teacher and the student, to reach a high standard of education, but over time it can be achieved.

But I currently don't have time. I have one day to prepare something substantial (which is a blessing compared to the one hour I had last week). Unfortunately, I feel I may have not set the appropriate impression as a teacher. I'm giving them the benefit of the doubt and some slack where they don't actually require it and where it doesn't actually benefit them.

I didn't feel good last week. The first half was fine, the second half wasn't. We wasted time, precious time. I felt a lack of connect and control, and a lack of enjoyment toward the material. I felt that it was partly a half-hearted, slip-slop, ineffective day. I worry that it will be repeated. I really want to see life, a bit of umph.

So the game plan? Figure it out. Make it work. You like challenges sometimes, bon appetit. You've been served a challenge. Don't let your insecurities put you down before you give it another try. Don't dog on what did not reach fruition in the past. Work with a clean slate. Erase any preconceived notions. Don't underestimate your good judgment. Utilize your resources. But first, lift the burden of worry off your chest. If your 100% isn't enough, then put it down as the way things are. You cannot do more than that.

You fail only because you want to control, to guide, to give what is not yours to give. If you recognize your role, you'll find your peace. You are but a tool, working in His service. You don't decide who will learn what, where, when, why, or how. You are the delivery person. All you can do is bring it to the doorstep. They will only take the fruits if He allows them. They will only benefit from those fruits if He allows it. So you, o lowly one, are but the ignorant messenger requiring His guidance every step of the way. Never forget your place, and you'll find your way. You surely will, insha'Allah.

Ya Rabb, I seek peace with You. I ask You to make this endeavour successful, for all parties to benefit, for a rejuvenation towards education, deen, and all the other sweetness in life. Ya Rabb, You are the educator, educate us all. Only in Your name can we succeed.

Update: 2007-04-02

Praise and thanks belongs to God alone. It was beautiful! Only He could have allowed such to occur.

Thank you Allah, the One who facilitates all.

Looking for Miracle Grow

BismiAllah

If you want to keep a houseplant, you must learn her personality. Sometimes she isn't comfortable in certain environments and will need to be moved to a different location. If she likes it, you will see the improvement. If not, try again until you find the right spot.

Such, it seems, is the case with today's educational situation. An excellent analysis (masha'Allah) of the situation entitled "Is Education Failing?" lays the cards out on the table very well, but it is becoming a bit more complicated each day.

I cannot add much more to the the above-mentioned article, but it is the final comment which has unveiled yet another crack in our foundational structures. The issue is one of morality. Where do our children learn morality?

At home of course! But what if our children aren't learning what they need to learn at home? What if their fathers aren't in the picture because they are too busy sipping on coffee as they discuss the politics of back home? What if their mothers are just too busy with other things to notice the problems or are simply at a loss for solutions?

In an effort to try to understand this all better, I put the question to my uncle, an excellent teacher of many years having taught in both public and private schools, "How can we teach children morals and values??" His response earnestly led towards trying to get the family back in order, but his words were tinged with despair as he described the resistance of some parents in embracing the role of an educator at home. It seems like a hopeless situation for many.

My optimism was soon renewed as my uncle told me the story of one student who inquired about what he missed in class during his absence only because he knew that when he went home his father would ask him what he had learnt that day. This simple and habitual question will give this young man, in the least, an appreciation for knowledge. Often, the best way to teach is to take small, yet consistent, steps. It is no surprise that this is also one great way to learn.

Our discussion regarding education continued for some time, but I still felt unsettled. Surely there must be way out of this web of deteriorating morality. So I asked him, "Do you think it's good for children to attend public schools or Islamic schools?" His answer was very insightful, as I had not thought of this before. He said that for the first few years Islamic school is good because it instills a strong Islamic identity in children. After that, they should be in public schools so they experience a struggle. Our young need the struggle in order to appreciate and learn to value the depths of our own moral and ethical Islamic teachings. Essentially, when the foundation is solid, the struggle serves only to strengthen the rest of the building.

The day after speaking to my uncle, I had the pleasure of spending the entire day with a good friend. Knowing that she has a healthy background in education, especially early childhood education, I asked her which she thought was more beneficial, Islamic school or public school. Her answer was quite the contrary, clearly reflecting her own experiences. She said that it didn't matter if their early years were in a public school because children aren't very susceptible to peer pressure at that age. However, once they get older, they should be in Islamic schools, especially in their teenage years. Some youngsters simply cannot handle the strong conformity pressures of public schools today.

The one view is that of equipping children with the necessary tools and forcing them to use them in the real world, and the other is that of shielding them until they find themselves.

Like houseplants, it's a case-by-case decision. My hope is that after good years of nurturing them, they will survive in the wild. But alas, the matter is not in my hands. As the brother reminds us, "It's a huge favour from Allah Subhana wa ta'Ala that He has protected us from falling into the many traps of academia, while so many others just get washed away in the current."

Thank you Allah!

Labayk

BismiAllah

*Spring, where are you? Come on spring, let's have some fun!*
- Franklin Turtle

The tulips aren't out yet, but the weather is gorgeous. Praise and thanks to God. The sun is shining, the birds sing their beautiful pre-dawn songs, and there is so much umph in the air. Winter's sweet tranquility is gone, and like magic, spring has arrived!

Such is the story of my life. Allahu Akbar!

I can't quite get over the fact that I've been blessed with so much in so many different ways - to think, to care, to know, to love, to aspire, to hope, to share, to grow, to learn, to embrace the beauty of the world around me.

But I cannot savour this all without reminding myself that in the midst of peace and happiness, I could find myself facing challenges and struggles. So often I remind myself that one day I may get that phone call that takes these perfectly assembled pieces in the pie of contentment, messes them around, and begs the question, "Where is your contentment now?" I secretly prepare and await the challenge. I don't wish for it, but because it is a possibility I attempt to prepare for it. With or without perfectly unified components of life, contentment must always remain my faithful companion. God willing.

While I talk about the splendor of the season, where regrowth, rebirth, and rejuvenation are at their peak, I dig deep and reflect on my personal history. I experience severance of the worst kind, from what was once so sweet. But... I won't walk away. I might not be strong enough (yet) to fight my fight, but I am not going anywhere. God willing!

Labayka Allahumma labayk!