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Death as a Reminder to Live

It’s a topic that has underlined several of my most recent posts. Not because I exist in a perpetual state of morbid mental paralysis but, rather, because I am increasingly aware of the limited nature of time. No doubt, I have lived the majority of my life. Whatever is left is now the lesser part of it.

This is the impetus to squeeze what I can out of time more than ever before. Whilst my health remains relatively normal, I have endeavoured to start – and maintain – some small yet consistent changes in my daily routine. Alhamdulillah, the first couple of things on the list are better/regular contact with the Quran and extra ibadah (acts of worship). I don’t want the good habits of Ramadan to be lost completely. To be in a constant form of communication with my Creator is to live a better quality of life. It’s a very personal journey but one which I hope manifests in the way I deal with my lot overall.

I’ve also returned to a healthier lifestyle having incorporated exercise and calorie counting again into my regime after a lapse in focus for a period of time. It’s not that I have regressed to my former weight and any progress has been lost. Alhamdulillah, that hasn’t happened and insha’Allah it never will. Nowadays, I don’t see my lifestyle choices, in terms of food and exercise, as a labourious chore. My attitude has simply changed. I actually enjoy the new outlook. That’s mainly because I have already experienced the joy of seeing a difference both in terms of how I look and definitely in terms of how I feel. The so-called ‘happy hormones’ have kicked in and I hope they will be here to stay for a long time still. The underlying rationale that has sustained my mission in this area of my life is that choosing to live this way will enable me to be mentally and physically well-equipped for even older age, insha’Allah. Although nobody can guarantee a foolproof lifestyle in preparation for old age, we can only try.

Linked to this mindset is the idea that for as long as I can, I pray to live independently. I don’t wish to become a burden on any of my sons and although they promise to look after me in whatever way that necessitates, the reality is that even they will tire of the arduous task of helping me get about in my daily life. I would rather live a shorter and fully independent life than to live longer and be incapacitated. Therefore, every day that I am blessed with my health, is a day I have to make count. Even when I go for a walk, as I did today, I feel blessed that it is Allah who has granted me the ability to do so unaided and appreciate the world outside in the process. How many people would love to have that ability to move independently?

My mission moving forward is to be better prepared for the journey of my soul after I leave this earthly realm. The preparation process has already started and it must only grow and become stronger. I hope every pursuit I make in this life can be justified with this kind of connection to make it worthwhile. If I hold myself accountable and true to that thinking, then there is nothing to lament about the ephemeral nature of this duniya (world). The significance of our actions will only become more apparent on the the other side and I pray that the good actions will always outweigh the bad.

A Conspicuously Colourful Life

If there’s anything that imbues in me a sense of intoxicating glee, it has to be the occurrence of abundant colours especially in the natural world. Drinking in all those glorious hues is the best antidote to sadness. It never fails to cause a sense of rapture in my mind. It is the perfect medicine for moments of melancholic withdrawal from society. For me, colours in the natural world speak an unspoken language inviting me to not surrender to despondency.

No doubt, there are many colourful places, things or situations which can actually be quite ghastly. One example that comes to mind is the phenomenon of clothes mountains in places like Chile. Despite being able to see the full spectrum of the rainbow, clothes mountains are examples of humanity at its worst – where people are flagrantly unashamed of the price nature will pay for their insatiable greed and ephemeral desires. In these situations, the feeling of despondency can’t be shifted by looking at colours alone.

Alhamdulillah, for the most part though, being able to see life in colour is usually a positive experience which leads to a deep gratitude for the gift of sight itself. The blessing of vision in full colour is the gateway to other euphoric sensations. Again, I can think of another lucid example. Anyone who has had the pleasure of ambling through a spice market, in cities such as Istanbul or Cairo, will know that moment when their eyes are greeted with a carnival of colours. This is the precedent to a heightened consciousness of wonderful aromas and flavours – all introduced from that first visual awakening.

Then there are the seasons which each bring their hues. In springtime, the world reawakens from a deep slumber and an almost monochromatic landscape is brought back to life with blossoms on trees. Then summer takes over and sees nature at its most vibrant with flowers in full bloom. Not wishing to be outdone, autumn summons colours to return to hibernation and retreats with them but not without a grand exit of warm earthly tones. It seems winter’s job is to make us appreciate the spectacle of colour we have enjoyed for the rest of the year and yearn to see them again.

This is at least my interpretation of a life of seeing colours. I don’t necessarily have to see a riot of colours to find beauty. Sometimes, even the monotony of one colour against a backdrop of white or black can be enough to stir wonder. Here, I am picturing the island of Santorini (which I hope to visit one day inshaAllah) where houses with whitewashed walls support their iconic blue rooftops – so distinguisable from other places. The simplicity of the combination in a sun-drenched land is an awesome sight even if it’s only in photos so far that I have been able to appreciate it.

When I lived in Saudi, I struggled to adapt to the all black dress code. There were a few reasons for that. The first was that black was so inappropriate in a hot country where it would only encourage heat to be absorbed. Secondly, being a maverick somewhat, I have never been able to accept to blend in and become indistinguishable. I needed to stand out. Lastly, the idea of all black was something culturally endoctrinated and it was not a cultural ideal that I subscribed to. It was for this reason, that when I went to work out there, I was the only one who would switch my hijab (scarf which covers the head and upper body) to a different vibrant colour each day. It was an audacious act of defiance but I have no regrets. I need colour in my attire. I need colour in my life. I need to feel I am an individual.

I need to feel alive. Being able to exist in a kaleidoscopic world gives me ample opportunity to do just that.

Ramadan Reflections

***Illuminations to Light the Rest of the Year***

Whilst immersing myself in the spirit of Ramadan, I decided to take a break from my blog. Though many thoughts came to my mind in that blessed month, which I wanted to make a note of, I decided to focus on working on ways to capitalise on the finite time endowed to me to earn reward in preparation for my journey into the next realm.

Today, I return to my blog to write retrospectively about what I garnered in Ramadan. Like all the Ramadans before, I felt nervous upon entering this month, wondering if I could sustain a better version of myself throughout. But Alhamdulillah, the nervousness dissipated and in its place emerged a growing confidence that I could surpass my own limited expectations of myself. That confidence was rooted in the knowledge that this month is like no other; that Allah promises to shower us with even more reward and His mercy. It’s an opportunity not to be missed. The sakinah (peace/tranquility) that descends in this month is very real.

Whilst moving through Ramadan, both in terms of time and spiritual development, I repeatedly told myself that this year I will endeavour to hold onto some good habits that I developed in the last few weeks. Be it reading Quran more regularly, however little or much, I want to maintain a better connection with Allah’s words than I have done so before. In fact, I was quite amazed at how I still learnt new things when reading it this time – things I had never noticed before. This is the unique wonderment of the Quran. No matter how many times a person reads it, there will always be something new to extrapolate or understand.

Overall, I have vowed to try to develop a more conscious connection between the most mundane things I do in life and their relationship with my spiritual being. For example, I have already started to try to memorise some new adkhar (supplications) which I can incorporate throughout the day to allow my soul to be in constant – or at least regular – reminder of Allah’s blessings upon me.

These are things which I have endeavoured to pursue in previous years during and after Ramadan and Alhamdulillah, I’d like to think it has been a journey that I have not only just embarked upon. The difference I feel this year though is that I have been constantly reminded of the privileges I have been given when I see the appalling tragedies being inflicted in Palestine and how resilient the Muslims have been there. Closer to home, I have come to learn of several acquaintances who have all been suffering from terminal illnesses. These things combined have impacted me deeply. I have been thinking of my own mortality even more than usual. Not in a destructive sense but rather the opposite. Questions that come to my mind are: “How can I be more productive with my time? What can I do to improve myself? What are some realistic targets I can set myself?” So, sometimes adverse situations give rise to amazingly positive outcomes.

My desire to better myself is a constant goal but emerging from Ramadan is the catalyst I needed. I realise it’s early days and only time will tell how successful I am in my quest to be a better person – to permanently move up a few notches in terms of piety and God-consciousness. Insha’Allah, my niyyah remains firm and focussed and is helped with an every-increasing tenuous relationship to this world and all it contains.

In terms of my vision, I have been a long-sighted person since I can remember. Now I wonder if there was always another dimension to that long-sightedness that is only just becoming apparent in my later life; I am looking beyond this life and hoping I am making the best preparations for what lies ahead.

Ramadan Reparations 1445

Alhamdulillah, that I have been blessed to witness the arrival of Ramadan again. Many Muslims around the world wait excitedly for this auspicious month full of hope of all the goodness it will bring them in this world and the Hereafter.

Whilst I join millions of others in that excitement, I admit there is a simultaneous nervousness within. That’s because I know there is a higher expectation of me throughout the month to be a better person on so many different levels.

Fasting without food or drink is the least of my worries. I trust my sense of self-discipline to believe that I will get through each day fine and that at least I can see an end to the time spent in that form of deprivation, inshaAllah. There are millions of others around the world who experience hunger as a matter of daily life so what do I have to worry about?

The more challenging aspect of Ramadan is the fasting of the limbs and senses – all those parts of our physical being that too often lead us into deviation or temptation and, quite frankly, futile pastimes that do nothing to positively influence us. I have my own negative traits that need to be worked on and so am grateful for this month to make an effort to improve on myself. It couldn’t have come sooner. Like most Muslims, post-Ramadan, we exit on a spiritual high but over time and during the year, those good habits come unravelling and so by the time the next Ramadan rolls around, it is such a welcome opportunity to correct those wrongs.

Ideally, we should always be super-conscious of our spiritual being. This is where this blessed month offers us the chance to be that. Everything we do or say is accompanied by a heightened awareness of the reawakening of a soul part of which was desperately in need of a new lease of life. In this modern age, where devices have insidiously removed us from a spiritual consciousness, the objectives of fasting have become more pronounced than ever before.

I am acutely aware of how blessed I am to have entered this month. Even if I don’t make it to the other end, I pray I use the time carefully and constructively. I am afraid of my own possible failings but take comfort that niyyah (intention) is always what adds weight to any action.

I pray I can use this time and make good on any wrongdoings I have committed, big or small, over the past year and more. Despite my fear of failing myself, I will aim to start on a hopeful and positive note and move on from there.

My Sister’s Cat

It has been a tumultuous week. Shifu, the Master, my sister’s pet cat, who was a beautiful presence in our lives, has left this world forever. He had brought so much happiness in the lives of all those who’d met or known him. For that reason, he will never leave our hearts. He epitomised the idea of unconditional and pure love – always giving and never demanding.

It didn’t matter that he was not my own cat; he was a fully-fledged member of the extended family and was an integral part of my sister’s home. With so many family get togethers and/or casual drop ins there, it was inevitable that his presence – and now his absence – was always going to impact us.

Shifu came into my sister’s life at exactly the same time that things in my own were unravelling fast. From his kitten days to maturity, watching him grow, along with the performance of his many antics, brought me and my boys immense joy in our regular visits to my sister’s home. He was always a welcome distraction and offered so many moments of friendship, solace and comfort when we were slowly rebuilding our lives and trying to escape dark episodes.

His passing has made me look back at those eight years, realising that it’s been quite a journey for all of us. There are plenty of photos and video clips shared between so many phones that it seems we didn’t miss any of the memorable moments that he experienced. Some were funny, others painful (when he went for surgery) and yet so many more were just entertaining to watch.

Knowing that he will no longer be part of our lives is crushing. There are many milestones ahead of different members of our family that Shifu will no longer be witness to. I know it’s crazy to think of it like that! After all, cats aren’t the slightest bit interested in a human’s future goals. Their only desires revolve around themselves and their comforts. We don’t discuss or share our stories with our pets. However, just knowing that Shifu won’t be there in the background, makes me feel sad that we will have to move on without him. He will no longer be that background character on the stage with the main actors as the story unfolds. On the other hand, I take comfort that he lived a full life and was very well taken care of. He had total freedom and never lived in fear of humans. Unquestionably, he was adored by everyone who met him.

Thinking of the loss of a pet cat that wasn’t even my own and the profound sadness that has overcome all of us involved, makes me think of the loss of a loved one in human form. The stark reality is that if someone we love departs this world, life has to go on. We might stop in our tracks temporarily whilst we mourn the loss and come to terms with it but it would do no good to surrender ourselves to sorrow. The sense of loss will be something we always carry and to move on is not the same as to forget. It is not a callous thing to do. It’s a necessary thing to do.

The loss of Shifu is a reminder of the nature of the Duniya (world). There will be – and have been – many losses experienced. Our own departure will be mourned for some time but for those left behind, we would want nothing less than for them to continue their own journey as best they can. Sorrow should not paralyse us. It is simply wise to learn how to internalise and cope with it whilst we plough through the rest of our time here. InshaAllah, things will get easier over time.

Backward and Forward

I’m at that stage of life where I find my emotions oscillating between a curious mixture of hopeful excitement for my own sons vis-a-vis quiet acceptance of my own uneventful future. Of course, I know that hope and excitement isn’t the exclusive rights of the younger generation. Those in my age group have every right to claim these things for ourselves too. Being older doesn’t mean that we should resign from life and just never expect to look forward to wonderful moments of expected or unexpected change.

***Making Choices at the Halfway Point***

So, that’s the situation I am in right now. It’s like walking across a bridge over a river and pausing at exactly halfway point. When I look at the side of the river bank where I am heading, I see that I am waiting to immerse myself in the new adventures that my sons are going to be embarking on next… education, jobs and even marriage! When I turn to face the other side from where I started off, I see the closing years of my elderly mother and of a chapter of my life that will end with it. (Not that there is any absolute guarantee that I will outlive her. )That makes me quite sad because even though she claims to be content with her lot, there has always been a bitterness and remorse that she has carried throughout her life. It could have been lived out much more fully. As it is, I stand on that bridge watching both these opposite elements of my life moving independently through time. My loyalties are torn between both.

Where does that leave that part of my life that I can call my own? Well, all these other parts overlap and are intertwined with whatever I have created for myself, be it work or recreation. None of these can exist in perfect isolation. What I always endeavour to do though, is to consciously conclude that it’s all good. Even the challenges bring enlightenment and a cause to reconnect it all to the purpose of being on this Earth in the first place.

For me, looking back is always counterweighted by looking forward. That’s the reason why I can’t be stuck for too long. Even when my mind involuntarily slips back to the past ,I am often abruptly brought back to my present existence and remind myself so many reasons to be grateful. Alhamdulillah, the recalibration is effortless. I do believe it is because of my inherently positive nature and a zest for life that becomes more intense as time on this Earth inevitably decreases as well.

No point crying over spilt milk and definitely no point in allowing opportunities to slip by only to regret it later. I want to celebrate life – both my own and those nearest to me, not least my sons. I don’t want them to remember their own mother with a deep remorse that she was not part of their lives in every sense. InshaAllah, as long as Allah allows, that is not how they will ultimately remember me.

Welcoming in Spring

This winter has perhaps been the longest I have ever experienced. I know I’m not alone in that thought as several others have also mentioned how, for some inexplicable reason, winter has dragged her feet this time round.

During this cold season, I succumbed to sickness, which for me is quite unusual, Alhamdulillah. It’s been a long time since I was confined to my bed completely envervated. On top of that, the cold weather has been extreme and left everyone with little desire to do anything except curl up in bed under a warm blanket and sleep – anything to help get through the cold. If hibernation had been possible, I think I would have happily volunteered to have skipped so many cold days and unbearably long nights these last few months.

The global economoy hasn’t helped lift spirits either. With runaway prices of everyday items in stores continuing to move at breakneck speed, together with the cost of living, it’s all culminated in quite a depressing and sombre time. Then there’s been the ongoing genocide in Palestine which hasn’t abated…

Despite this, seeing tiny blossoms peak through the ground, and similar blossoms on trees in recent days, has worked wonders for my soul. For me, they are potent reminders of Allah’s reassurance that no single situation is permanent. Even the drabness has to succumb to beauty at some point. The two will always be in competition and at different times, one will claim victory over the other. This is the very nature of life itself – full of ups and downs. It has joyous occasions punctuated by sadness and vice versa. It is a perpetual cylce which we will find ourselves in. Right now, with the onset of Spring, I feel I am entering a refreshing phase of a lightened mood and expectant ease. It’s strange because in reality, I know nothing has actually changed in my life. The bills keep increasing, nothing fantastically different has occurred and the daily grind is the same. Yet, just seeing the manifestation of change and re-emergence of life forms in nature, is enough to make me feel buoyant.

I guess I interpret the arrival of new flowers as an opportunity to check in on myself and grant myself permission to take leave of absence from the monotonous routine. The buds and shoots emerging from the ground are evidence of hope in all things. Despite the drudgery all around, beauty can still be found and it can be intense. It dominates all else. I relish the moments I have to get lost in that reverie. It’s necessary. It’s therapeutic. It’s enriching.

It’s amazing what a small group of seemingly insignificant buds can do to cause a whole new feeling of wonderment and excitement to erupt deep within the soul.

No doubt, Spring is a visitor welcome at anyone’s door.

Taking it Slow

Recently, I have been under the weather and have been blighted with a lingering chesty cough since mid-January. I even needed to take a few days off work which is something I don’t usually do. So, this bout of sickness has really taken the wind out of my sails.

Although I was not confined to my bed for the duration of my sick leave from work, I did become somewhat restless indoors after a few days. Being too discombobulated to focus on anything like reading or cooking, I also soon got bored of doing nothing much. I did make good progress with some Spanish language skills but there’s only so much a person can do of one single thing in a single day!

Despite still not being fully recovered, I returned to work this week and managed to survive. It was actually a welcome distraction from home and the monotony. Whilst I did enjoy the peace at home, there is a part of me that doesn’t like a solitary existence for more than a few hours. I need human interaction and to feel a part of the larger world. Going back to work helped me feel useful and normal again. (I wonder how I managed to work from home, years ago, in a setup which was not far removed from solitary confinement!)

The truth is, I find people interesting and I enjoy (most) social interactions. I love to meet people from all walks of life with their myriad of experiences, some of which I can relate to and some of which I have absolutely no knowledge of. But together, it all fascinates me. I also like to challenge stereotypes others might have of me upon meeting me for the first time. I have lived long enough to know there are many people with their many stereotypes. For example, on the first cursory meeting, some think I don’t speak English, I have not experienced higher education and the list of negative imagery goes on… I enjoy being a public representation of Islam and to show others that they probably were far off the mark when making their secret and silent prejudgements of me.

So, whilst I recover from this cough, I cherish the time I have now to also recuperate from the breakneck speed I find myself moving in just to keep my home ticking over. The cough has, strangely enough, allowed me time to pause and appreciate things in slo-mo.

Mi Nueva Aventura

In the quest to keep moving forward and try to squeeze what I can out of life, I have very recently taken on a new challenge. The title of this blog post might provide a huge hint!

My new adventure – learning Spanish.

I never got the opportunity to study a foreign language at school as, together with my family, we had moved abroad and so I missed some of my education in the UK. However, I don’t lament that loss because in moving to Bangladesh as a child, I actually became more proficient in Bengali, the first language of my parents. My mother had already taught us the basics of the language in terms of reading and writing, so that by the time we had moved to Dhaka, I felt learning the language there was a natural continuum. So, to say that I didn’t learn a second language at all is actually specious. I did and I am grateful that I can still communicate in all its forms today.

Now that I have a bit more leisure time on my hands, I feel it is convenient to learn new skills; to make up for some things I didn’t get the chance to do when younger. I don’t believe in fads and would not delve into something if I was not serious. So, I hope my enthusiasm will not fade over time. Learning Spanish is not because of my infatuation with Spain after my Malaga holiday. It is more about asking myself, “Why would I not consider myself to have the capability of learning a completely new skill at this late stage of my life?” I have lived enough of a life believing in “I can’t” rather than acknowledging deep down it was more of a case of “I can if I care enough to try.” Therefore, I am going to try my best to dismantle all the self-destroying barriers I have put before me for too long.

When it comes to learning a new language, I actually believe that being fluent in a second or even third language places someone at an advantage. In my own experience, I notice how I am more adept to making and listening to sounds in other languages that require different pronunciations, tonalities and inflexions than they do in English. Therefore, I listen carefully to the Spanish accent of words and am conscious to avoid an unyielding British English accent which would ruin my mission.I would love to know that in due course, I could land in Spain and confidently hold conversations there which would not need me to resort to Google Translate or a local who is fluent in English. I know a native Spaniard would most likely be humoured by my attempts to speak Spanish but that does not deter me to persevere. I have gone beyond feeling inhibited by other people’s opinions.

So, why have I chosen a language to learn of all things? It stems from a desire to do something different out of my comfort zone and the promise to myself to realise new potential. I may never need to use Spanish more than just going on holiday there. However, I have a passion for life that I haven’t had before. My subconscious mind will always remind me of the finite time ahead. That is definitely a huge impetus. Maybe this new project is also an opportunity to prove to myself that “I can.” It is also a long-term project – not some frivolous hobby born out of boredom.

Although I have mentioned this so many times before, it’s worth saying it again: a post-divorce life has granted me a liberation but not of a decadent kind. I am not searching for meaningless or trivial pursuits which do nothing to enrich me. My new life has offered me unimaginable hope and energy to go and seek new goals and know that if Allah wishes for these dreams to be realised, then there is simply nobody who can hold me back. The only time I wish to make reference to a life that is measured from the moment of my divorce is to acknowledge how infinitely grateful I am for my new circumstances. Alhamdulillah.

No Looking Back

Life can occassionally place you in a position where you may be tempted to return to a previous situation be it a job, relationship or something else. Just last week in my blog, I mentioned about the decision to quit my role as Trustee with a small charity I’d been working for. By pure coincidence, the other day I got word that my departure was something lamented by its director and there may be a possibility I would be invited back.

I am determined not to acquiesce.

Some observors may think this is an unfortunate arrogance on my part. However, I have learnt a valuable lesson from life. Keep moving forward. There is no point trying to dredge something which has long since sunk like a lead balloon, to the surface of the water. Let sleeping dogs lie. This is one of those classic situations where you know you try to convince someone else of a terrible decision but they insist on pursuing a blind, irrational goal anyway. So you back out and wait to see the proverbial hit the fan. And it does. Then, the other party realises too late. It is not my job to clean up the mess in the aftermath. I am not sitting here feeling smug or amused; just disappointed.

However, I also feel vindicated. I simply had to wait patiently and let time reveal the truth. And it has. I know I could not return to the previous setup because my trust has already been broken. I am not in the business of asking others to beg me to reconsider something even if they acknowledge they were in the wrong. I’d rather they take heed and know that in future they should move carefully before making rash decisions.

This kind of scenario echoes what so many women experience when being abruptly told by their husbands that divorce is the only way forward. I know the situation above reminded me of the terrible time I had trying to figure out why divorce was a word uttered to me. I tried to ask for reconciliation although it was never made totally apparent what my failings had actually been. As the fog began to clear, both in my reality and my mind, I resolved that I’d never be given a sensible or complete answer for the decision to divorce. But that experience also taught me to never beg and plead for a second change. I would never seek validation from anyone again.

I believe I have stuck to my guns. I no longer seek approval of people. They can choose to accept me or reject me. It’s fine. It’s liberating. It’s an unfettered life.

Alhamduilillah, I don’t think a day goes by without me expressing my gratitude for the life I have now. I am my own person and I get to call the shots. Even when I think of the potentially wonderful things that come with being married, none of them are enough to entice me to seek another chance at that life again. The freedom I have gained far outweighs anything else.

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