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The Completeness of Being Incomplete

***Focussing on What We Have Rather Than What is Missing***

My musings today are another iteration of things I have mentioned on numerous occasions before. Yet, given we have just celebrated Eid ul-Fitr, which marks the end of Ramadan, it seem an appropriate time to share my thoughts again.

Yesterday, my sons and I spent the day with extended family and had a memorable time together. Although some individual members were missing because they couldn’t – or rather didn’t want to – be there, that was not enough to negatively impact our fun and laughter, Alhamdulillah.

Even in the case of my own situation, the father of my sons has long been out of the picture. Yes, he may have contact with them and there is the occasional visit back and forth between countries, but he is very much absent in the frame of our family. Being on the perphery is never going to count. However, whereas I used to lament this loss, I am now much more accepting of it. That’s because I know my life and my sons’ lives have continued largely unabated, Alhamdulillah. True, there are many sociological statistics that speak of the disadvantages that children of one-parent families invariably have to face and try as I might to deny them, I have had to concede the drawbacks that come with trying to raise a family as a lone parent. Even with all the best intentions, innate human limitations can’t always be overcome.

However, I vowed early on to regain control over aspects of my life in order not to let this family come apart at the seams. To be honest, my faith in Allah has been the glue that holds everything together and the more I succeed in doing that, the more I have faith that Allah has bigger plans for me and has been Merciful all along. There is no room for loss. It’s almost as if His message to me is, “You’ve got this.”

This is why I don’t need sad sentiments handed to me regarding my status as a divorcee. I don’t need pity as if there is no recovery from the situation I found myself in over six years ago. I don’t need derision either where the assumption is that a family such as mine would only eventually succumb to waywardness. Over the last six years, we have muddled our way through and found a workable alternative to the traditional family setup and made it work. The reasons for that success belong as much to my sons as it does to my own efforts and, needless to say, none of this would be without Allah’s guidance. It’s because of the new life which has morphed from the old that I say we are complete – for now.

***Spectator Seats Reserved for Absent Dads***

We have worked out our own solutions for any problems we might encounter and don’t rely on the input of their father for practical advice or solutions. These days, he is more a spectator on the occasions where there is a need or desire to share but he is not the one who makes decisions any more – not even a back seat driver.

As a mother and sons, our family is very much complete, Alhamdulillah. We have figured out how to weave through one another’s lives and support and strengthen. We have also learnt when to leave one another alone to allow the individual personality to learn to have confidence in making independent decisions. A lot of mistakes have happened along the way but inshaAllah, I would say none have had irreversible or lifelong negative implications.

Allah knows I was up for this challenge and whilst it hasn’t always been easy, I relish every moment that I have been blessed with a soul that, even in life, feels it has already returned to my Maker.

***Individual Strands Working Together to Make Something Great***

Just Below the Surface

***Random Thoughts Bubbling Away Below…***

In Ramadan, we are well-acquainted with the advice to keep negative thoughts and actions well at bay. Given the heightened spiritual ambience that this month brings into our homes and hearts, for the most part, it is a much easier thing to do than in times outside of Ramadan.

However…..

I cannot feign perfection. There are often moments when painful memories surge back to the forefront of my mind when I least expect. Usually, I might be caught in a daydream and a catalogue of random thoughts all fuse together to thrust me back to a past incident I’d much rather forget. Before long, I’m spiralling downwards into the dark recesses of the past.

The beauty of Ramadan though, is that those thoughts are sporadic and more easily channelled into positive energy. I can snap out of them and quickly redirect myself to a thought process that brings out the best in me and not the worst. I manage to diffuse the negativity before it consumes me. That’s because I want to capitalise on this precious month and other activities, especially ibadah (worship) take precedence in my day. I don’t want this time to slip away without investing in what is to come – not just in this life but especially beyond. A heightened consciousness of Allah is often achieved through worship. But worship itself is not limited to the five daily prayers and Quran. It’s about engaging in the realisation that every action, in between those other overt acts of worship, connects back to the fact that Allah is in control and He knows us better than we know ourselves. So, I can relax. I am in good hands, Alhamdulillah.

So, yes, although sadness is part and parcel of this life, I’ve come to terms with that. But acknowledging that the presence of sadness has an actual purpose helps makes it more bearable. And had I not contemplated that fact, perhaps I would never had had the chance to draw closer to Allah and have private conversations with Him. I now understand that through it all, I have actually gained more than I ever lost. Whilst the gains may not be tangible, I know they’re real because the proof is that I am buoyant about life still. I haven’t thrown in the towel. I am still eager to make the most of the limited time left and give back even more insha’Allah.

Throughout my life, I know my inherent nature has always been about positivity and a willingness to fight. The last few years didn’t extinguish that desire. If anything, they reignited the passion to be the best version of myself and follow the dreams I’ve been waiting to make real.

Onwards and upwards, insha’Allah.

A Worthy Weariness

It’s a well known fact that fasting and the associated routine of extended prayers and extra ibadah (worship) begins to take its toll at some point during Ramadan. As much as a Muslim would love to retire to the comfort of a bed and slip into a deep slumber, there is simultaneously, an overwhelming desire to push on and maximise on the precious yet limited time that the month offers to earn plenty of reward.

To be honest, I’m sure like most of my Muslim counterparts, the physical tiredness actually does not come from fasting but from the nocturnal routine where the natural order of our daily lives is reversed. Sleep at night is a welcome luxury but always interrupted. That being said, there is an alacrity many Muslims experience in greeting the nights knowing that the chances of reward are multiplied. The sacrifice of sleep is worth it.

I write here during one of those precious nights of Ramadan. Perhaps some would argue that I could be spending my time pursuing better things – asking Allah for forgiveness, reading more Quran or performing an act of charity. But my account balance is a private matter and I know – and Allah knows – the condition that that balance may be in. I consider writing here as an indirect act of charity. Whilst it may appear I am distracted from overt acts of worship, I am actually using a few minutes of my time to help others understand that Ramadan is not a month of starving oneself with the goal of losing weight. Whilst the latter is a nice bonus, the month means much more than that. It’s about self-sacrifice in a myriad of ways. Unless one engages in fasting, by which they become physically enervated, they will never know how that ties in with the diminishment of the ego and thereby the realignment of the soul with the spiritual invigoration. SubhanAllah!

So, whilst I sit here in a tired state, I am humbled by the opportunity brought by this month to rejuvenate my spiritual being and realign my wordly pursuits with it. Never the other way around. This is one of the main secrets of Ramadan that needs to be propogated more widely. For this reason, I hope Allah accepts this week’s blog as an appropriate use of time. Insha’Allah.

…and then comes Ramadan

In recent weeks, months and dare I say years, I have reiterated privately and publicly about how I feel Allah has shown me an alternative version of happiness. Perhaps ‘happiness’ isn’t even the right word. Perhaps I should say, ‘contentment’. Because happiness implies a constant state of feeling positive and the reality is, nobody can sustain that feeling for too long, no matter what there is to celebrate. Contentment, on the other hand, is to look deeper and to accept and understand the workings and wisdom of Allah through the thick and thin of life. Whilst the state of euphoria may elude us from time to time, at least even when the chips are down, we understand the situation is one that needs our patience and so we live in hope for better things to come.

That’s how I have been training myself: to be unruffled by turbulent times such as the cost of living crisis that everyone has been contending with lately. I tell myself to stand back and remember that I just need to get through one day at a time. I’ve seen so many people pass away without any warning to know it’s not worth planning too much in advance. It’s not a defeatist attitude but a realistic one towards life – or death.

So how does this all come together in Ramadan?

Actually, this blessed month is one which further helps to peel back all the unnecessary layers of life and return to the bare minimum (which is where we should be anyway). Divesting myself of ego, wordly appetites and fruitless pursuits is where I want to be at any time of year. So Ramadan is, in effect, the precursor of the lifestyle I wish to aspire to above and beyond when this month is over. But for me too, Alhamdulillah, anticipating its arrival is something I feel is a natural progression as I strive to be a better person throughout the year. I am not feigning greatness; I am as fallible as the next person and I know I have a lot to improve within myself. However, the last few years have definitely taught me to let go of the duniya (world) a bit more. I am content simply to be alive and well and to have a roof over my head. Anything beyond those things I see as a real luxury and whilst I’m not averse to a few indulgences, I am also well aware that I’m already very fortunate Alhamdulillah. The wealth I have is intangible and invisible to others.

Over six years ago, I was dealt with a rude awakening and my life changed beyond my wildest imagination. The reverberations have been echoing ever since but most of them have been positive, Alhamdulillah because I refuse to let them be anything else. The light will always overcome the darkness. And so Ramadan is, for me, a reaffirmation that good times will supercede difficult times and blessings are abound if we care to look for them.

A Week of Work

***Working to Live and not Living to Work***

This is an appropriate time to reflect and assess how I got on this past week in my new part-time job. One thing I promised myself was that work was not going to consume my life. So far, so good. Being a part-time role, I know that is a huge factor in allowing me to maintain the social distance between my working life and personal life. Let’s see how long I can sustain it but I am hopeful.

That hope is driven by the fact that I am determined that my paid job is never going to be the sole focus of my life. I continue to strive to make the most of my time and squeeze as much as I can out of every 24 hours. Therefore, my day will never begin and end with the job. I know I am fortunate to have the option not to work in a regular 9-5 job and the deep gratitude I have for that freedom is to fill that time with useful pursuits that will help me become a better human being. Whether that be my charitable causes or seeking beneficial knowledge of some kind, the time to be still and idle will be kept minimal, inshaAllah.

Looking back on the past 6+ years where I have headed a family on my own, I have learned a great deal. The experiences garnered along the way haven’t all been wonderful but they have all been soul-nurturing and for that, I am truly grateful. To have lived a life in ignorant bliss is one which would have been easy but not enriching. I know this duniya was never meant to be a place of constant ease and yet we are all tested within the parameters of our own tolerance levels.

I am grateful to be ‘out there’ again in mainstream society and to be learning along the way. It’s the first proper job I’ve had in the UK since having my children so I have a lot of catching up to do. It feels like I’ve been stirred from a deep slumber after 20+ years. I can’t imagine how the companions of the cave felt as is recorded in the Quran (Surah Kahf). I recall praying to Allah that He would give me a job which would suit my needs etc. and He has done just that. SubhanAllah. To remind ourselves of the prayers that are answered is to be humbled totally in the presence of our Maker.

The Hypnosis of Iceland

Today’s submission to my personal blog site is a reflection on my short trip to Iceland with my niece and from which I have returned.

Alhamdulillah, it was the perfect precursor to a new job which I am due to start tomorrow. Admittedly, I was a little anxious before going away given the financial strain I’ve been under like many other countless people across the world. However, for those magical 2-3 days, the usual worries and concerns all melted away whilst I immersed myself in another realm and experience. I was surprised how seamlessly I flitted from anxiety to carefree reverie. And for that in itself, it was worth spending the money. As I mentioned last week, I vowed my life will no longer simply be about paying one bill after another without any respite in between. So this trip was always going to be a litmus test for what’s ahead.

Iceland is the perfect place to reconnect with natural beauty and therefore, of course, with Allah. The two are inextricably linked in my opinion. Both my niece and I were in awe of everything we saw and commented how we couldn’t appreciate the natural world without appreciating its Creator. SubhanAllah. What a feast for the eyes! Volcanic rocks, fissures, mountains, waterfalls, lagoons, lakes, glaciers, geysers and last but definitely not least, the Northern Lights! To try to encapsulate all that wondrous beauty in a few sentences embellished with admiration will never do it any real justice.

Despite the subzero temperatures and piercing winds, where we were sometimes struggling to keep our fingers exposed for just a few seconds to take pics on the camera, we savoured every moment. Two days seemed like a week given the plethora of sights we saw. I had never seriously considered Iceland as a holiday destination before but I was not disappointed. In fact, I would like to return there to see the sights we didn’t have time to explore such as the black sand beaches and ice caves.

Whilst a tourist will always experience a new country through rose-tinted glasses, I can confidently say that I appreciated the slower pace of life out there. Reykjavik is noticeably much smaller than even some satellite cities in the UK but that is where its charm lies. As an older person, I enjoyed the calmness of the place. There were no rat-race commuters or soulless skyscrapers dominating the skyline. Beyond the nucleus of the city, the vast emptiness of this underpopulated and quite barren land was surreal. I often had to remind myself I was not travelling through a desert nor in the American plains both of which this country’s landscape bizarrely shares so much in common with. There was an air of tranquility which permeates the country throughout and all of this the perfect decompression process I needed before returning home.

Yet, my trip to Iceland was more than simply staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the stunning scenery. It was about realising that I now want to see more of the world if I possibly can. I don’t wish to compete with other travelers and boast about how many countries I can claim to have visited. I am still cynical about the disconnected tourist who travels without actually getting to know anything about the people and culture of the host country whilst indulging in the oblivious comfort of their 5-star ivory towers. Alhamdulillah, I have lived amongst the ordinary folk in the countries where I previously settled with family and have been enriched by all those daily encounters. So, I know the stark difference between a tourist’s lens vis-a-vis the perspective of an ordinary citizen. It’s like having a front seat in a lesson in anthropology. The experience is priceless!

However, my days of living abroad are on hold for now, maybe even permanently. But, the desire to dip into an ‘otherness’ will always be with me. So, even standing with my niece in the geyser cloud that absorbed us as it sprang up from the earth’s core, or trying an unusual local dish which is a staple for others in the host country, all these little experiences are like pearls on a string that form a beautiful and complete piece of jewellery. They are the things that adorn my life and restore my humility towards my Creator, Allah.

Travelling through this world in a metaphysical sense can’t happen without travelling through this world and accruing a heightened spiritual awakening. I say this because I don’t just see with my eyes but I see with my soul. Allah’s presence in His world is intrinsic to the natural phenomena that bestows so much intense beauty in our midst. If I need any excuse to travel more, then this one reason alone will suffice.

Up, Up and Away

It might seem like a totally reckless thing to do but I am planning to escape for a short break to Iceland very soon. I am so tired of routine and the relentless pressure of managing money. I am determined to take control of it before it takes control of me. Therefore, although it might seem like I’ve made a frivolous decision to go away, I know it is anything but that.

Going away is a financial cost for sure. However, long after the money has been spent, the memory of that experience is what will linger. Not the memory of the dent in my bank balance. I’m tired of always being cautious and overly cautious. When I know that life can be overturned in the blink of an eye, I’m now going to aim to fit in as much as I can before it’s too late.

***Indelible Memories from my Cottage Window***, ***Peak District***

My short sojourn in Iceland will be with my niece inshaAllah. Not my own sons. (I am still planning for that trip inshaAllah). But even before I was a mother, I was an aunt and looked forward to spending time with my nieces and nephews whilst they were growing up. My relationship with them was going to be more involved. I vowed I wouldn’t be like the emotionally-distant and uninterested aunts and uncles I had as a child. Those adults had no real connection with us and never shared any crucial milestones of our lives. Perhaps my parents were responsible too for that missed opportunity but I do believe it was a mutually convenient setup. So, just like how I arranged the large group of nieces, nephews and my sons to go on a road trip to the Peak District (twice) in recent years, this time it will be a one-to-one quality trip with my niece. I am honoured she deems me worthy of spending time alone with.

In an ideal world, I’d have my Prince Charming husband to woo me and whisk me off to wonderful places. But the world is not ideal and Prince Charming does not exist. Plus, I don’t want to rely on anyone anyway. I’d much rather call the shots myself. So, inshaAllah, this escape will be the first of more to come. I want to be a person of action and not just empty words which is why when I told myself that I want to do things I had always put on hold, I knew I was fired up to go.

I know a short break will not resolve any of the difficult realities I have to confront when I return home. However, that dull constant has to be punctuated with some sort of relief now and then. So, this isn’t a guilty pleasure. It’s an absolute necessity to rejuvenate my spirits and give me the momentum to carry on. All with Allah’s mercy and help. Nothing I say or do is without that conscious awareness of His ultimate guidance.

What is a life if it’s just about paying bills and worrying about the future and losing the present in the process? My future started a long time ago. Despite the constant internal battle I have between hope and despair, I always strive to let hope win since scoring this victory will determine the rest of my day, my week and beyond. Isn’t it this attitude that has got me through the last few years anyway?

How the Tables Have Turned

***The First of Two New Experiences to Savour***

Recently, I was invited by my niece to have lunch together. An offer which I happily accepted not because of the food per se but moreso because of the prospect of having time with her alone – something which I’ve not had the chance to do till now.

She had planned for us to have Vietnamese food together – a first for me. I’ve had Chinese, Thai, Indonesian and Japanese dishes before but never Vietnamese. I must confess, it was a very satisfying meal. Just for the record, I had summer rolls – noodles and veggies wrapped in thin rice paper – followed by a generous bowl of tofu pho. To add to the new experience, I also tried Vietnamese coffee – rich and dreamy. The new culinary experience was definitely a hit with me.

But beyond the food alone, the ambience of the place was so calming and quaint that for a moment I forgot I was in London. The restaurant was also located right opposite the driving test centre where, many many years ago, a young teenage girl had emerged triumphant from her test. Little did she realise that she’d be sitting in a quirky eatery a stone’s throw away many moons later with her first-born grown-up niece. To see that place again took me full circle and in a few seconds, my life story flashed in quick successive images in my mind’s eye. I can confidently say it’s been one amazing journey even with all the bumps, scrapes and detours.

Sitting opposite my niece, the first child to be born amongst my own siblings and myself, was also another realisation of the passage of time. This young woman, who has matured into adulthood and independence, was once the baby who I had the pleasure of spending many countless days with watching her grow and develop. Today, the tables have turned. Instead, here I was accepting her invitation to indulge me and take the lead. I admit having fleeting moments where I was sitting there but asking myself how thirty years had passed by so quickly. How had I watched this young woman grow up? To think of all the things I’ve done and places I’ve been to and yet, I’m grateful to have kept my finger on the pulse of others’ lives and to have been a witness to their journeys too, Alhamdulillah.

To have had the rare chance to sit and talk together without any interruptions was just lovely. Almost as if I had been given the opportunity to say ‘hello’ properly and really get to know what has been going on in my niece’s life. Coming together in a world where everyone is so busy is a wonderful thing. We are all too ready to send detached, robotic messages with our fingers on phones but not with any real depth from the heart. It is often too taxing to talk. The irony is we are all connected but detached at the same time. So, to sit across a table and have personalised human interactions, where we can make better inferences from the intonations of the voice and the expressions on the face, is a time to cherish.

Perhaps older age has mellowed me a little but I know for those people in my life still, I value their presence and not just as a deadweight contact on my phone. There has to be real and meaningful interactions whereby we enrich each other’s lives and are a constructive element rather than a wearisome force. I’ve learnt to weed out those whose presence has been nothing but debilitating on my state of mind. No qualms about cutting ties there. They are excess baggage that can be reclaimed by someone else.

How Happy is Mum?

The answer to that question lies with her kids. It’s true that a mother is only as happy as her saddest child. I guess that statement will always be a reliable gauge to my own happiness. And so, I have good days and bad days depending on how my own children are feeling.

When they are not emotionally well in themselves, it can be very draining on me. I try to think of the solution/s to their problems and if it’s something I can fix, I will happily try to help resolve it. But the very nature of emotional unhappiness is that it is a state of mind that might take much longer to put right. Moreso, it is something that, as a mother, I might not be able to resolve myself even with the best will in the world. I can guide, advise, listen, care and pray for the problem to dissipate with time and yet it may still never be enough.

***To Push or to Pull to Achieve Results?***

In situations like this, I’ve tried to dangle the carrot and then berate with a stick (not literally) and have tried everything in between. There are times I feel I am making progress and others, when I feel I’ve come full circle. Often, I imagine myself on the other side of the conversation listening to myself speak and pre-empting what my sons must be hearing. It almost feels like I have to constantly stay one step ahead of them and be prepared for what they might say in response and in defence of their own argument. It’s exhausting. Those are the oaccsions when I have to take off my Superwoman cape and hang it up in temporary retirement.

Whether I have failed or succeeded in helping my sons through their volatile times, when they are on the cusp of true adulthood and trying to claim their space in this fast-pace world, I hope they will look back in retrospect and appreciate I always had their best interests at heart.

In the same breath, I will also say that I can’t live the rest of my life simply as the go-to offloading site when things don’t go quite the way my sons had planned for themselves. As much as I will always be there for them, I’ve made it clear now that there are times when I am saturated with their woes and my own worries that I can’t absorb any more. Ideally, this scenario should have been shouldered by two parents and I’ve been carrying the load on my own for years now. Not suprising that I might sometimes just capitulate under the load. In any case, I want my sons to accept responsibility for their own actions – or inactions. This is the other reality of claiming to be an adult. After all, isn’t that what they want to be treated like?

I do what some would call ‘tough love’. That’s because I don’t want to raise a group of young men who are totally unprepared for the world outside their door. I do try to soothe their emotional pain or worries but upto a point. Wrapping them in cotton wool will, ironically, make them fall harder when difficulties hit them. And hit them they will.

I also need to keep some of my reserve energy for myself. Just like when parents are instructed to place the oxygen masks on themselves first before attending to their children, so too will I now manage self-care a little more. If I don’t do it now, when will I? I’ve stopped feeling guilty about it a long time ago. If men can walk out without any qualms, which is something many women would find impossible to do, then the time to reward ourselves for our own selflessness has got to happen one day.

For me, that day has already arrived.

A Cup of Tea, A Biscuit and Me

One of the simplest formulae for bliss.

In all my years of motherhood, a cup of hot tea and a biscuit have been my best friends, my counsel and my therapy. I have to confess that hardly a day has gone by in the last twenty years or so when I have not had that small indulgence to return to, Alhamdulillah.

A self-confession of my very own personal peccadillo.

But I make no apology for enjoying the time out for this wonderful epitome of satisfaction. It isn’t just about the pleasure of the cup of tea itself and the biscuit. It’s more about how those two things allow me an escape from the monotonous routine of life. They represent a few moments of mindfulness; when everything stands still for a while and I can press ‘pause’ on all around me and forget my reality. Ironically, it’s one of the few occassions when I can empty my mind of clutter and fill it with a zen-like tranquility. It is an excuse to disconnect from the hustle and bustle and go into silent reverie mode.

Maybe I am not ambitious. To get that much enjoyment from the small things in life might seem quite pathetic to some. However, I marvel at how it is sometimes the simplest of things that bring so much pleasure. I have a favourite cup and a favourite tray (for one) with a favourite biscuit. Once equipped, I retreat to a place on my own in the corner of my living room or my bedroom. No company required or desired. It is a ceremony wherein I unplug myself from any conversations, online or otherwise. I do not entertain questions or demands from anyone. Silence becomes sacrosanct. For ten minutes or so, I choose to become numb to everything and everyone else. Even my children and their demands can wait. I need that time to recharge, reboot and reload.

Over the years, the particular tea and biscuit may have changed but essentially, the need for time alone has remained the same. I actually make it known to those around me that on my list of occasions where I need absolute silence and focus, my prayers stand at an unrivalled first place. I cannot have anyone distracting me from the one thing which requires my utmost focus in life. That being said, the afternoon cup of tea is the only thing that comes second. Though the gap between them may be huge in terms of priority, I honestly can’t think of anything else which deserves the right to silence than those two things. Of course, I have had many cups of tea as a stimulus for social interactions but I must say, rarely have those times equalled the sense of delight I get when sitting alone sipping at my tea and feeling unshackled by life.

This candid reflection is not an invitation for others to feel sorry for me. I have always enjoyed this experience whatever my circumstances. Like an artist who retreates into the country to paint a scene of nature, or the mountain climber who ventures on a solo expedition for the best view from above or the small fisherman who patiently waits alone in his boat for the catch of the day, I am simply another human who enjoys that opportune solitary experience to reconnect with myself and my inner thoughts. My vista might not be as exotic as those mentioned above but viewing the world above the rim of my cup, everything seems just right for those few moments.

It might be a very British thing – the penchant for a traditional cup of tea. Although I am not averse to a good cup of coffee, I confess that tea will always score more points. Others in my family know that when I have that cup in my hand, it is tantamount to a “Do Not Disturb” sign inscribed across my forehead. It is time for me and me only. Selfishness completely allowed. It is, after all, the rare occassion when I can – and will – put myself first. No apologies offered.

If I find myself living on my own in future, perhaps my attitude will change and I might find I’d like to share a cup of tea and a biscuit with friends more often than I would alone. Right now though, I always look forward to a few minutes each day when the world can continue spinning frantically but I will slow the pace down for myself to relish that time out. I don’t pretend to be a connoisseur of tea. But I do know I am an expert in taking the time to understand its higher purpose.

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