mymotherhalf.com

Out of My Comfort Zone

It’s no secret that refusing to try something new is never going to allow us to develop as discerning people. Whether it’s cooking the same curry, driving the known route home or even wearing a limited style of clothes, repeating the same routine is going to limit our experiences of life and even perceptions of the wider world.

With that in mind, I have done the unthinkable and thrown myself in the deep end. I’ve just recently left a job which was no longer inspiring me to give it my all. Some might say this was an irresponsible thing to do. However, I know that without that drastic and bold move, I’d forever live in quiet complacency that life is fine and I don’t need to do anything more. Now, given I no longer have the job to fall back on, I need to get my thinking cap on and move fast. The situation I am in is the precise impetus I need to set my sights on my next goal. Without that buffer, I am now forced to take action.

I have learnt (in the last six years especially), that I cannot and should not reply on anyone else to take responsibility for my life. I am not bitter about that fact. If anything, it’s quite liberating. I am my own person now. I can finally see once intangible and fanciful ideas becoming a sure reality.

In a few weeks time inshaAllah, I am off to another part of the world for a few days. It isn’t for a holiday (although I’d love time out to do nothing and just sit in awe of the sights in front of me). This trip is more momentous than that. It is the culmination of a lifetime’s dream to do something in the name of charity and help make a difference to some people’s lives, inshaAllah. So, there is a very serious purpose of my trip. Yet, the fact that I am even going on such a mission is a miracle in itself. Not only have I waited years for an opportunity such as this to arise, the convoluted way in which it came about is something I never envisaged. But here I am, Alhamdulillah.

I know some traditional minds might frown upon my decision to do this. I’m sure they will question how I could leave my sons behind and pursue something for myself. The thing such people forget is that although I may be thousands of miles away, I will never stop being a mother. That role continues for me however near or far my boys are. They are also very supportive of my goals. My sons have witnessed the sacrifices I have made for them – and still am. They are also of an age where they are independent and can manage the home without me. This is a skill I have nurtured in them not for my own benefit but primarily for their own. Besides, I maintain that I have given the best years of my life to everyone else; I have always put my own aspirations on the back burner. Now it’s my time to step up and step forward…

I feel with this upcoming trip, that I am just warming up. I hope it will be the harbinger of change for many more things for me. I know I needed to push the boat further out into the water to see what is out there. This is what I have done. I knew being moored on the banks was never going to produce greater things for me. Not taking risks is something borne out of fear and fear is something I refuse to let win. I am not a caged hamster on a wheel. I am not a dolphin confined to acrobatic acts in an aquarium. My spirit is free and always has been. I have reached a juncture in my life where I know the only limits on me are the ones I erroneously convince myself I need to work within.

Of course, needless to say (and yet I will say it still), Allah is the One in full control of my life and more. Yet, His control is often viewed as restrictive- as if He is all about shrinking our experience of this duniya (world) rather than expanding it to include more. I now have come to understand that His control is not all about limiting our lives. His control is about His guidance and as long as I live within those Islamic parameters, then I need to squeeze more out of life than just the mundane. I believe Allah has put me on this new trajectory and given me the opportunity to explore new things. He is inviting me to go further, learn more and do more. It would be a form of ingratitude not to take up this offer and let it slip through my fingers.

In the past, I have had to let opportunities go for reasons I don’t regret. Now, I will seek opportunities out for reasons I don’t need to explain.

The Flotsam and Jetsam of a Post-Divorce Life

As a blogger, I always write with the intention that someone out there, particularly a woman who has gone through a similar experience to me, will hopefully stumble across my musings and take comfort from knowing that she isn’t the only one feeling what she does. From speaking to friends, I know that my writing often strikes a chord with some of my readers. After all, the anecdotes I share are not unusual.

Today, I return to this inextinguishable topic of ‘divorce’. I make no apology for it. After all, the ramifications of this event in my life are still being felt. I guess they always will be. What has brought the debris of that disaster surging forward now is that one of my sons has gone to visit his father abroad. He is the first one to make the trip out there since his father and I parted ways six years ago. Although my ex-husband is in touch with his sons via mobile phone and has visited them here – they have somehow not been able (or is it willing?) to travel to see him. However, this is the first time one of my sons will be on his father’s territory and surrounded by the paternal extended family. Although the planned visit will be a brief one, I guess it will provide enough opportunity for them over there to garner information about us over here and (should I be inadvertently made aware of this) for me to become increasingly irritated.

On the one hand, I know I have the determination and strength to remain calm knowing that my life is finally moving forward and peace and happiness are two things I have reclaimed for myself again, Alhamdulillah. On the other hand, knowing my son is out there, inevitably makes me slip back into the past and some less savoury memories are relived again. And so, the yinyang forces are out in full force in the battlefield of my mind. This is what is going on inside…

I’ve come to accept that this “two steps forward/one step back” motion is one that will plague me for a long while yet. I haven’t completely exorcised the darker memories from within; I wonder sometimes if I ever will. What I do know though is that the time for my sons to be more involved with their father, on their terms, is ripe. They are mature enough to know they have a duty towards him and to separate my relationship or experience with him from their own.

This is why I have no qualms about my son being out there today. I understand it is the right of both father and sons to nurture that relationship and I have always made it abundantly clear that I would never stand in their way. What is more, over these past few years, my sons and I have grown closer together in a way which may not have happened had their father and I not separated, Alhamdulillah. That mother-son relationship is one I treasure and hold dearly and is a solid silver lining around the dark cloud. This is my rational self talking; at these times, I can easily separate my erratic emotions from sound Islamic teachings.

My faith in Allah, the custodian of my thoughts – indeed, my life – is the reason why, despite the resurgence of the pain from the past, I know I will be OK in the end. Every step I take towards detaching myself a little from the past and walking towards a more honourable goal, is the only way I can be sure I am doing OK. That goal isn’t about getting even or taking revenge. It is simply about acknowledging that Allah had – and has – a better plan for me. I would much rather lose in this life but score a victory where it matters most.

25 Years Without a TV

This is not a call for a pity party. It is not even meant to be a lament. It is simply a statement of fact.

I recently succumbed to the purchase of a TV after so many years and yet I had resisted having one for different reasons. The main justification for this decision has been my children. The second is that I view the TV as a malevolent magnet for all things evil. Across most channels, viewers are bombarded with references to a decadent society behaving at its worst. Pure debauchery. This assault on the visual and audio senses was something I knew I did not want pervading my home. After all, home is my sanctuary and a place of peace and contemplation.

For years, even without having a TV, I have reluctantly grown to accept that access to the programmes described is still possible through the internet. Computers have become the insiduous substitutes for that black box that sits on our living room table. That being said, I’ve always taken necessary measures to protect my young children from inappropriate material. This includes the usual parental blocks but also the important conversations to help them navigate their way through life. Yet even without owning a TV, we have still come to know about programmes which we have never watched a single episode of! For example, the infamous reality TV shows where privileged mortals take up the podium as self-proclaimed demigods and watch as underlings sacrifice their dignity in the race for fame and fortune. It’s a sinister setup and yet the increasing popularity of this genre is very disturbing. Society seems to take a sick sense of pleasure at watching people make a fool of themselves.

As already mentioned, my incentive for abstaining from having a TV was always my children. In their formative years, I wanted to show them that we can always look for alternatives; there is not one single way of doing things. My sons know my famous line: “If 99% of people do something one way, you can be the 1% that dares to be different.” With that mindset, I fought off many comments from people who simply couldn’t understand my wish to teach my children that it was OK to deviate from the popular (but not necessarily correct) opinion. I always sought alternative pastimes for them as it was important to me that they didn’t grow up vegetating in front of a TV. I have never wanted to raise merely obedient sheep. I’ve always wanted my sons to be shepherds. Have I been successful? At the very least, they have seen how remaining defiant in the face of wider peer pressure can actually be sustained.

Another scenario I have always wanted to avoid is the idea of a TV becoming the shrine in a room. I have seen how, in other homes, people are expected to pay homage to that black box by muting themselves in its presence and giving it undivided attention. That situation is one I could do without at a time when my children were immature and impressionable. What I wanted instead with them was good conversation and proper engagement between them and myself. Alhamdulillah, my sons have grown up never knowing the experience of a TV in our home and I would argue they are no less deficient for it.

I won’t deny that I have had to fight the request for this machine to be installed over the years. As citizens of the 21st century, of course, my sons have been exposed to it at other people’s homes and I have not denied them that pleasure. (Remember: catapult effect?) However, for the most part, my intention was to make them cognizant of the world around them: the sky, trees, rain, animals and plants, to name but a few. How could that have been achieved if their eyes were glued to and minds were numbed by ephemeral and vacuous entertainment on a screen?

And so, here we are… Today, it would seem as if I have succumbed; as if I have surrendered all my principles which I held on to so dearly for years. But that is far from the truth. We now have a TV. True. However, even the place it has taken in the living room is such that it is not a shrine. It blends strategically with the other furniture and I refuse to let it take prominence in our hearts and our home. Also, the incentive to buy it was to actually serve as a giant monitor and nothing more. As a house of adults, where we know what is wrong and right as Muslims, we also control what we we subscribe to (or not). What’s more, even since we purchased it, the time spent in front of it hasn’t actually been that much. There is no dizzy excitement as the decision to purchase it was made with careful consideration. We all have other priorities in life so having time to chill in front of ‘the box’ is welcome but also inevitably limited.

It’s for this reason I feel the time was ripe to acquiesce to their request. I don’t deride anyone who has a TV with its traditional trimmings but I do take offence to those who have never understood my choice not to have one. Why can’t I also claim the absurdity of their decision as much as they have mine? I guess, ultimately, the lesson I have always wanted to teach my children is that they don’t need to subscribe to mass opinion and instead, should be able to hold their own. InshaAllah, this is only one example where they have witnessed it in me. I pray they have been taking mental notes and can take a similar stance should the need ever arise.

I hope the following words will always echo in their ears:

Dare to be different!

A Year On from Snowdon

7 August 2021.

An unforgettable day in my life. I accomplished something I had never even dreamt of doing…climbing Mount Snowdon.

Exactly one year on and in my mind, I have often returned to that moment when I was descending the mountain with my troupe and suddenly realised the enormity of what I had just achieved! It wasn’t about climbing the mountain per se. The experience was a harbinger of change for my life. I have now made it a point to never be still in terms of wanting to explore what more I can do. I won’t pretend and say I have since achieved countless more things which are out of the ordinary. I haven’t. Yet, the more important thing is to keep moving.

I love life and yet I know that its adornments must not take over and consume me. Whenever I have made a decision to explore something new, be it switching jobs or my other interests, I try to frame them all within the Islamic perspective. That attitude gives me the best of both worlds. I am reminded not to be too absorbed in the duniya (material world) and yet I don’t feel unrealistically detached from it. I would never aspire to live like an ascetic in a hermetically sealed room anyway; I would never fool myself into thinking that kind of life is sufficient for me. It isn’t. If being on my own has taught me anything, it is that I need to seek opportunities out there. I am restless. I want adventure. I want self-development. InshaAllah.

I also don’t delude myself into thinking I can change the world. Indeed, that is impossible for any one individual. However, I can change myself. In the process, I hope to inspire others that they too can move forward and stake their claim in this world. For some, making that journey will be more arduous than others. That’s because society itself will put up barriers which might not be so easily surmountable, e.g. racism or religious antagonism. But sometimes, we are our own worst enemies and convince ourselves that “We can’t” or “We shouldn’t”. That internal battle is perhaps the hardest one of all. Yet so many great people in history have galvanised change by believing in themselves first; it requires absolute conviction. Without that instrinsic prerequisite, nothing can ever be achieved and sustained. With that self-determination, individuals have positively influenced others and created entire movements. It is contagious.

I say all this today because I have learnt to incorporate this principle in my own life ever since I came down from Snowdon. Alhamdulillah, there has been progress and when I look back at all the metaphoric stepping stones I have crossed in this past year, I see that I have walked a long path. I have deliberately kept concrete examples of this to myself for fear of ruining it all by openly mentioning it to others. However, suffice to say, my zest for life is real and this stems from a deep belief that I was sent to this world not to serve my own selfish interests and desires. I’m sure, for those who have every material thing imaginable in their life, they would testify that all of those things do nothing to bring out true happiness. Quite the opposite, in fact. Being at peace comes from giving back rather than taking.

In conversations with my young adult sons, I always request that their own paths through life, be it academic, career and spiritual, will always see that they are giving back to humanity. This is the surest way to show gratitude to Allah for the privilege of having the ability to do so in the first place.

Wise Counsel

With a title like that, one would be forgiven for thinking of a few examples of people who would fall into that esteemed category: mother, father, grandparents, teachers, religious figures and perhaps older people generally.

However, I want to challenge that preconception and argue that wise counsel might also be found in the places we would least expect. In my own experience, I have found it in my own ‘children’. I use that word loosely since my children are anything but juvenile and have now entered in adulthood, Alhamdulillah.

Before I continue any further, in my post today, I want to address all the independent mothers out there who are going it alone. This post is specifically for you…

In the time where they have matured and developed emotionally, I have found myself often turning to my children for their opinions and even advice. Readers might find that for me, as a mother, it’s somewhat bizarre that I would need to consult the very people I gave birth to and who are therefore less experienced in life than myself. A very dangerous position to put myself in perhaps?

There is no denying that whilst the children are young (before they reach their teen years), there might be little scope for them to have their opinions taken seriously. This is especially with regards to the big decisions in life such as: What school should they attend? What friends are the most suitable for them? Where to go for the summer holidays? No rational adult would find themselves sitting across the table having these kind of conversations with a 10 year old and being dictated to!

However, for all those mothers out there who are going it alone, they know too well that they don’t have the luxury of turning to their spouse for support or consultation on matters to do with the family and children. For years, women like myself, have had to rely on their own instincts and judgement to make crucial decisions. Many times we have either overthought our decisions or secretly harboured doubts but know we have to plough on. It’s a mentally exhausting position to be in but what choice is there? We are forced to continue our lives and learn to develop even a smidgen of confidence.

Then, as the children grow up and emerge into adulthood, so too the onerous task of making decisions alone, is lifted from a mother’s shoulders to some extent. Finally, it seems, we can actually have sensible conversations with our young adult children and learn to listen to them. Their encounters in and experiences of the world can’t be written off as irrelevant. Leaning on our children who are now adults clearly isn’t an overnight process and can’t happen without having laid some basic foundations. So, what are they? My belief is that turning to one’s children for counsel can only happen if, over the years, a relationship of mutual respect has been forged between everyone involved. Being a strong mother – or at least aiming to be one – is a trait that can filter down to one’s children. They in turn learn to have the confidence to stand tall and strong; they know they can also make decisions pertaining to their own lives if not others around them.

Given I’ve not had their father to rely on for advice or moral support, I’ve had to learn to be bold in making my own decisions. I don’t suggest for a minute that all those decision have been the right ones. But I do know that I have made them in good faith and my children have been witness to that conviction and audacity. I also take responsibility for any decision that has turned out to be less favourable than I imagined. Being a mother of boys in particular, I feel it’s even more important that they witness strength and determination in me. InshaAllah, this will feed into their own perception of what Woman can do.

So, today my wise counsel are my sons, Alhamdulillah. Not in every matter but for sure, in some key decisions relating to our family. For years, I have nurtured their interest in the wellbeing of everyone in the family; they know that being selfish and detached simply won’t do. I have often called them together in family meetings not only to hear their views but to implicitly let them know that their views matter. To deny them a voice is to deny their role as a key player in this family. Ultimately, they know that I am interested in what they have to say even if I may beg to differ.

Alhamdulillah, each of us rooting our thoughts within the teachings of the Quran and the Seerah (the life of the Prophet ﷺ) to the best of our abilitiy, is an absolutely fundamental part in creating wise counsel. Every action or inaction we choose has to have Islam as it’s reference and justification.

The Lighthouse

Recently, a good friend of mine generously described me as ‘The Lighthouse’. I was genuinely touched by the accolade. My goal in life is not to fish for compliments but my goal in life is to be in the service of others. I don’t mean in the form of a sycophantic deference to another human being. I simply wish that with whatever time I have been endowed with by Allah, and the blessings He has put in my way, that I use those tools at my disposal for the greater good inshaAllah.

I don’t wish for someone to remember me in a eulogy at the pulpit. InshaAllah, like many others, I want my recognition from Allah when and where it matters most – the other side of this life. That being said, if I can bring a smile to someone’s face, prevent a person from slipping into a dark black hole or just metaphorically hold their hand through their strife, then I hope they will recompense me with duas (supplications) that will allow me to reach a place infinitely better than any spot in this duniya (world).

I know just talking about all this makes me run the risk of displaying a fake humility. However, I know that ever since I was a child, I have always felt the proclivity of helping someone in need as my calling in life. That is why trying to find an inroad into the charity sector has been a dream I have never let go of. Even through my married years, whilst raising a young family, I never totally surrendered those aspirations that were beyond the existence I was living then. I was just biding my time. Looking back on my life, I see that I have actually been fortunate to have had roles in the charity sector albeit working from behind a desk rather than being out there in the field. InshaAllah, that’s about to change. I am hopeful that my lifelong aspiration of being in the recipient country is something I am going to experience for myself.

Even now as a tutor to young children, I have never viewed my role as simply one of educator. Although my students don’t know it, I secretly hope that, many times over, they achieve that light bulb moment where everything suddenly makes sense and falls into place. I imagine a jumbled jigsaw in their minds where all the pieces are thrown upwards and miraculously land only to come together in perfect cohesion. It’s not only about my students understanding the task to hand; my mission goes much deeper than that. I wish for every child I work with to walk away knowing that no problem is insurmountable; that the only obstacle is their own imagination. To me, it’s important that people, young or old, are never sold the lie that they can’t do something without having even tried. Of course, there will be some situations which no human can defy. However, taking calculated risks is important. Living life in safe contentment is never going to produce great things for anyone.

So, although this lighthouse wishes to guide passing ships on their way to safety, it also wants those ships to know that no encounter is fortuitous. A lighthouse is only as useful as the ships it serves and, as such, it is those ships that justify the existence of the lighthouse in the first place.

Positive With Covid

Last week, I ended on the note saying, “Alhamdulillah“.

Today, I return and again I start with where I ended. Alhamdulillah.

I am in the throes of Covid along with my sons. We have all finally succumbed to this stubborn viral infection and none of us have escaped it this time.

So why the gratitude? Why praise Allah?

There are many reasons. Firstly, the fact that we are inshaAllah already in the recovery stage only a few days in, is a huge blessing in itself. When I recall how, just two years ago, this disease gripped the world and paralysed normal life and everything we once called ‘Normal’, it’s humbling to know that my sons and I came through that period unscathed – at least physically if not anything else. This time round, the new strain of the virus is less virulent and so we have only been slightly inconvenienced by it. The panic and stress we saw so many others endure is something we haven’t had to face, Alhamdulillah.

**1000 pieces in a 1000 precious mini-moments**

Then there is the timing of it all. My sons are home for the summer, in my presence and we at least have fallen victim to this virus together at the same time. Better to get it over and done with. With everyone having tested positive, we don’t even need to isolate at home; in a bizarre way, life has just continued on almost as normal. Of course, there will be the usual cleaning and fumigation en masse that will need to happen once we emerge virus-free at the other end, inshaAllah. So, as such it was with great pleasure that I sat with my sons over the last couple of days and completed a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle. I had never found the right opportunity to do the jigsaw till now. But with Covid, my mind hasn’t been able to settle on reading or anything strenuous. A jigsaw was the perfect pastime! No doubt, every piece is now Covid-infected but the time it provided to sit and chat whilst putting it together, is something I am grateful for. It’s the small things in life that give so much pleasure…

Being stuck at home, without the opportunity to venture outdoors, has actually provided cherished moments to just reflect, sit and talk. The virus has knocked the wind out of our sails; we have all felt quite enervated physically and mentally and lack energy to do anything but the absolute bare minimum. Yet, the silver lining through this is that we have found more time to detach from our regular worldly distractions and just be in one another’s company. How Allah works in mysterious ways!

Funny how we think we have plans and then these are immediately scuppered by Allah’s Master Plan. I had no idea that this week’s blog would see me writing about my brush with Covid! Yet here I am and Alhamdulillah, I have been fortunate that it wasn’t worse. Any encounter with an illness is in itself an opportunity to take stock on life and yet again be reminded of the multitude of things we have to be grateful for. When the washing of a few dishes takes the breath out of me, that’s when I realise how much I have been blessed with every minute of every day of my life, Alhamdulillah.

So, having challenging episodes with health is a way of purging my own soul; it isn’t just an inconvenience supplanted onto my material existence. There is a higher purpose and if I fail to see that, then going through Covid will be nothing more than a reason to feel restless and frustrated. I’d like to think I’m not that myopic, inshaAllah.

The truth is, we are all holding onto life by a thread. Covid or no Covid. We delude ourselves into thinking that when our health is good, we have ample time to tarry on this Earth. That is the biggest fallacy ever. There is no rhyme or reason to how long or short a person’s life is. At this stage of my life, the appreciation of time is a deep one. Who I spend it with, what I do with it, when I do something etc. … These are questions that take on a whole different meaning when you know that the best part of your life is done.

Presenting my thoughts out loud here might seem a deeply personal thing to do – and it is. However, too many wasted opportunities have passed by with people being overly-conscious about the consequences. Valuable lessons have been lost in the wisdom they could have shared. When I am long gone, it is my legacy that I hope lives on and not the individual memory of my own life. It has got to be much bigger than that alone.

Summer Vibes

**Time for Nature to Nurture Our Way to Contentment**

The academic year is almost over and it couldn’t come soon enough.

I am feeling pretty exhausted. Although many people have plans to escape for the summer, I haven’t made any plans as such. The economic drudgery continues despite the balmy weather and that is a stark reality not many of us can pretend is not here.

Having said that, I am very grateful to have my sons back home together, Alhamdulillah. One son is still away but inshaAllah we will soon all be finally reunited for a few weeks. For me, that would be a reward in itself. It seems such a long time since we were all under one roof! I don’t know what the future holds – who will be where, doing what and when – so I always treasure the time that we have together as a family.

I do hope to travel in the summer still. Even if it’s just a road trip and one night away from home. As a family, I believe the change of scene will do us an immense amount of good. We have all had a stressful year in different ways and need to recharge. Some people would argue that a holiday does nothing but cause more financial stress; that often we return to yet more housework as the cost of going away. Whilst that may be true to some extent, the experience of seeing something new and being able to completely unwind, is something that can’t be measured in monetary terms. The mental benefits far outweigh anything else. And being able to recharge can’t ever be achieved fully from seeing the same daily vista that we are used to at home.

Since I was very young, I always dreamt of being able to escape for a few days to a beach setting. No people. No phones. No distractions. Just the lure of the infinite cerulean sky mirrored in a pristine sea. This image epitomises an example of perfection in Allah’s creation. To be able to reconnect to nature and the Creator in this setting is just an awesome thought. Whilst I may not be able to do it on this occasion, this summer, I still aspire to fulfilling that dream.

For now, I am content just to have moments to sit with my boys and talk about anything and everything. That’s another priceless gift and Alhamdulillah, it can happen right here and now and doesn’t require a fancy hotel or foreign currency. I take immense pleasure just listening to them vocalising their personal ambitions and I know they are also enthusiastic about mine. It is a trait that I have carefully cultivated in them – the need to be aware of the importance of family and others around them. Just because I am older does not mean that my aspirations have diminished. I want each of us to be interested in the other.

As I close this blog today, not knowing what the rest of the summer may or may not bring, for now, yet again I can find many more excuses for saying “Alhamdulillah“.

Published Article: Lessons from a Modern-Day Urban Nomad

@ themuslimvibe.com (4th July 2022)

Lessons From A Modern-Day Urban Nomad

Boomerang Kids

Last week, my son returned home after his time away at university for three years. I can’t quite believe it’s been that long! It’s good to have him back even though we know the time we have together like this is borrowed time.

Whilst I relish the fact that he is back home, I also am mindful that as my sons mature and venture off into the world, whether it be for studies or work, the dynamics of our household have permanently changed. This is quite a poignant fact for me as I know life will never be the same again. I can no longer expect to have everyone under one roof for any significant length of time. The young men who are my sons are now at the cusp of adventure, poised for all the exciting things life has to offer, inshaAllah.

***Ready to Take On the Wor*****ld Outside**

To be honest, our household dynamics changed long before my sons went away to university; life changed when I became head of this family. That was a hugely significant shift. But as the boys left one by one, I became acutely aware that I was entering another irreversible phase of life yet again. I knew that although they might return under my roof, it’s most likely a temporary stop as they would need to find a job wherever it may be. I can’t expect that they will find one close to home. As much as I would love to keep them close, for the sake of protecting them and having their company, I know that would be stultifying for them in every sense. Wrapping my sons in cotton wool would be doing them a great disservice in life as they will be ill-prepared for the world beyond their front door.

So, whilst I lament the passing of days when I could be sure to have my sons around me, I also look with eager anticipation of what their next steps will be. Whatever they embark upon, I hope I am witness to some great achievements in their lives still, inshaAllah.

And here’s the thing… It’s not just about them. My time to reclaim my life for myself is also here. I refuse to watch the world go by whilst I sit and do nothing. Even at this late stage of my life, I have my own goals which I aspire to achieve still. As I always say, I have given the best years of my life to others and I have no hesitation in putting myself first for a change. Whilst the responsibilities of Mother will never disappear, their dependence on me for everyday things has definitely dwindled – as it should. The best analogy I can think of is like the person who plants a seed, nurtures it to grow into a sapling and then mature into a fully-fledged tree. At that point, there may be the occasional pruning to do but the tree is pretty much on its own. That’s my take on motherhood.

I am not exhausted with my role as Mother. However, other aspects of my being have to now come into the forefront. So, whilst I may miss the days when I could gurantee my children and I would reconvene at the dinner table after a day’s commitments to the world outside, I equally look forward to each of us spreading our wings and discovering more about ourselves as much as what the world has to offer. I want each of us to leave through that front door and go explore!

***Reconvening for Cosy Conversations***

I am as much poised for adventure as my sons are. As I always say…

“There is no present like Time!”

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