The Best Things in Life are Three..

Who would deny that the simplest things in life are the best?  We spend the better part of our lives vying for this and that, be it a job, a house, a car and a myriad of other material things.  Age does give the benefit of hindsight and a wisdom that cannot be gained from reading books or simply listening to others alone.

Nature

In my own limited experience, I have come to know that I derive the greatest pleasure in life from the simplest of things: a stunning flower, the subtle sounds of water lapping on the riverbank, the mellifluous sounds of chirping birds, the susurration of trees swaying in the breeze.   Nature displays its charms so unreservedly and it is there for the taking.  I like to think I rarely miss an opportunity to lose myself in its midst.  Alhamdulillah, I am fortunate to be living in a place where all these things are at my disposal 24/7.

Family

Quite apart from nature, there is one other aspect of my life which I relish.  It is the time when my boys and I come together to sit and talk about anything and everything.  It’s not so much what the topic of discussion is but that we are simply fortunate enough to be in one another’s company at that time.  I know as they become fully-fledged adults and the demands of modern life pulls them into their own distractions, their affection is real and still draws them back to me as their mother, Alhamdulillah.  I may not have had a daughter but I don’t miss her absence.  My boys have often combed my hair, pampered my tired feet and massaged my head.  (There have been varying degrees of alacrity in those moments but at least they have obliged). 

I do remind them of the many things I juggle in my daily life.  It is not to instigate sympathy for me or a word of ‘thanks’.  It’s my way of preparing them for their own future.  One day, inshaAllah, when they get married themselves, they will already be aware of the work involved in running a household – especially as a woman.  My hope is that they will never take their wife for granted as, chances are, she will be doing the lion’s share of the housework.  Feminists can roll their eyes here.  However, I’ve rarely seen a reversal of traditional roles sustain itself in a marriage and not without a negative impact in some way.

I am convinced that if men were more acutely aware of the miracles that women perform in their daily lives at home, then perhaps many more marriages would have lasted today.  The same applies to women who are unashamedly disconnected from the daily grind that their husbands endure to support the family.  In both cases, being blissfully ignorant of the other is a disaster in the making.  I believe it’s why many marriages tragically come to an end. 

So, being in tune with nature, being brought back to a place of humility, is a good place to learn our own insignificance in the grand scheme of things in this world.  We are so deluded with self-importance.  A great reality check would be to stand at the foot of a mountain, or in the middle of a field, to know how tiny we are.  Our egos are disproportionate to our relevance to this world.  Likewise, just being present in the moment of a conversation with those we love or care about – these are the priceless treasures nobody can create.  Not only are these things free but they are humbling. 

Faith (Imaan)

Being humble is a means of connecting us right back to our status in this life.  It is predicated on the knowledge that Allah should always remain at the epicentre of our existence. I have found that having a reference point to conduct my affairs in all matters large or small, is by far the greatest free gift given to me by my Creator.  Acceptable behaviour is not some random set of rules I design for myself. Rather, it’s a formula which has been assigned to me from Above. But abiding by those rules with a conviction that Allah knows what is best for me, rather than leaving me to judge for myself, is such a wonderful gift that it’s surprising it goes unnoticed. In one stroke, it does away with manmde biases such as culture, traditions or habits, where these contradict Allah’s orders.

My advice to others?  Chase the things which are intrinsic to developing your soul and give you a clearer understanding as to why you are here in the first place.  Material things are anybody’s game.  They are simply an outward manifestation of purchasing power or money in your pocket.  But to appreciate nature and to value family is a testimony to understanding all of that from a station of gratitude and faith that everything is in perfect balance.

The Suitability of a Spouse

Bonding Together or Growing Apart?

For the last five years, I have, more often than not, wondered about the reasons which lead to the demise of my marriage.  I concluded that it must have been insurmountable incompatibilities rooted in cultural and ethnic differences.  Moreover, it was all my fault; I hadn’t worked or tried hard enough to move across those monoliths of ‘culture’ and ‘ethnic differences’ and adapted to a new normal.

All that changed for me recently.  I now know for certain that those were not the catalysts for the breakup of my marriage.  Why do I speak so boldly?  It’s because I very recently learned that my former husband, who had swiftly remarried after my departure, to a fellow thoroughbred of his own background, has recently succumbed to another failed marriage.  Intriguing.  How do I feel?  Vindicated.  Completely.  Utterly Vindicated. 

The years I have spent beating myself up for being the sole cause of my divorce, I cannot explain.  In my mind, I had failed my husband, failed my children and worst of all, failed myself.  He had not been pleased and had sought a new life to start afresh.  Now I see that actually, it wasn’t me who was to blame.  As clearly as I see the white full moon against the black canvas of the night sky, I believe the whims of man are often the cause of so many failed marriages.  Mine was no exception.  How else could I explain the sudden, erratic decision my ex-husband had catapulted onto our reality? 

An unpredictable change

I write today with an unreserved candidness to explain to others reading this that there are no fixed formulae for marital success.  For those who ruminated on my own marriage, offering their sometimes outlandish theories as to why it ended, I reject all they say.  There is no rationale for it.  Except this:  man is an irrational being.  And I mean ‘man’ with the exclusion of women.  Perhaps that will irritate many male readers but I speak with empirical evidence.  This has been my personal experience and my personal observations of too many countless marriages that have ended, including my own.  How else could someone wake up one day and quite literally do a U-turn?  I have seen men reach that critical mid-life point and suddenly become restless and confused – as if they have just awoken from a state of suspended animation and realise they need to make up for lost time.  They seek to rewind time and press the ‘Replay’ button.  How best to achieve that?  Release themselves from their present lives and find a suitable replacement which deceives them into thinking they are able to recreate their own youth….

I am writing today without any real editing.  I am expressing thoughts which I have had fermenting for some time but never gave any real attention.  Now, upon hearing that my ex-husband is divorced for the second time, but in a fraction of the time he had been with me, gives me the right to make these statements today.  He, who married a woman of the same ethnicity, culture and language, and therefore, an infinite ‘improvement’ on me, will have to admit that the common denominator in both failed marriages is indeed himself. However, I don’t believe he is quite ready to do that yet.

Until men admit to themselves a great deal more culpability for their own shortcomings, rather than shift the onus on their womenfolk, then we can continue to expect to see many more marriages coming apart at the seams.  I am tired of seeing and hearing women beat themselves up about their own faults because they couldn’t live up to the impossible standards set by their husbands.  My plea to women who find themselves in this situation, is to not reduce themselves to a nothingness, a person of no self-worth.  Only Allah has the right to judge our worthiness.  In uttering those fatal words of ‘divorce’ or ‘talaq’, I see now that the real victim is the man himself.  He deludes himself that he will be moving onto Bigger and Better.  In fact, he has shot himself in both feet, not just one.  He has paralysed his own future.  Pity the man who does not recognise this tragedy.

Alhamdulillah, I have lived to see justice being delivered.  The best part is that I didn’t need to do anything except exercise patience, and Alhamdulillah the fruits of that I can see here and now.  The truth is nobody is a victor in all this sorry mess.   For five years, I have only ever wanted people to see the ugliness of their own actions.  Alhamdulillah, my prayers have been answered. 

Beyond Just Having Patience

I was recently listening to a lecture by Professor Abdul Hakim Murad of Cambridge University.  He is what I would call, ‘Britain’s answer to Hamza Yusuf’.  I say this because, like Yusuf, Professor Murad is also a revert to Islam and a very active academic in his field.  He is also extremely eloquent in the English language.  Listening to any lecture by both these individuals is, for me, a mesmerising experience.  It is not simply the content of what they talk about which rivets me to my seat, but the way in which it is delivered.  Eloquence is something I find very alluring in any human being and is testimony to a refined set of social skills and manners. 

The first phase of recovery

The topic which Professor Murad was deliberating on in this recent lecture was that of sabr, or patience.  More importantly, he extended his focus to discuss the concept of ‘ridhaa’ (contentment).  On the face of it, there may seem little difference between the two.  After all, sabr is to bear something unbegrudgingly and without protest.  To have ridhaa, is to be pleased with whatever situation we find ourselves in.

However, on listening closely, I realised that there is a significant difference between the two concepts.  Contentment is a state which encompasses patience and has it at its core.  It is definitely a higher position to aim for.   Looking back at my own personal situation in the last few years, I know I have had to learn the art of having patience; to control my thoughts which often belie the cool exterior I may have displayed to the outside world.  Patience is something we need to learn to master in the midst of any challenge we might face and it isn’t something we adopt retrospectively when the event has passed.  In other words, there is no point having a tantrum and regretting it later and promising to be patient next time.  We need to exercise patience in the very heat of the moment.  This is, arguably, one of life’s greatest challenges. 

Ridhaa

About that cool exterior….  Yes, sometimes presenting a façade to the outside world is necessary if only because it offers time and space to develop our own fragile mental states.  Prying eyes and constant questions from others often do more to shatter the delicate defence we try to build up for ourselves.  I have been through that phase.  Back then, I could not even begin to think of being content.  I was simply too busy trying to get through each minute of each day.  It was a mission just to survive.  I was too consumed with anger and frustration to even imagine being content.  That was too much of a tall order for me back then.  Yet I don’t chastise myself for choosing to let my emotions dictate my thoughts.  It was a necessary process to get to where I needed to be.

Alhamdulillah, now I feel I have recently entered a new phase of life where patience has been overlaid with the notion of ridhaa, contentment.  Having worked through a lot of negative energy, I have not only come to accept my fate but embraced it.  Where patience was a tender sapling, it has matured into contentment which is a tree firmly rooted in its place.  I have had time to ponder, reflect and understand how and why I have ended up where I am today.  Despite the losses, the gains are now the focal points of my life and my sight is locked onto them.

But contentment is not a one-way street.  It is not enough that I am content with Allah’s plan.  The unspoken but reciprocal arrangement is that He too is content with me.  The relationship I have with my Creator cannot flourish on my terms only.  In fact, I realise that I have no right to dictate any terms as I will always be in need of and reliant upon Him.  As the one who is in absolute control, Allah needs to be content and satisfied with me.  There is no escaping that paradigm.  Insha’Allah I have passed the test He has placed before me and the many more that will come to pass. 

So, how do I know I am not simply stating fanciful ideas?  I actually do believe I have found my own little Utopian space because I see the wonderful things that surround me in my life now – from my friends to the beautiful natural environment that I engage with so often.  Alhamdulillah, I know there are things I have been blessed with which I am not even aware of.  It is that state of gratitude which leads to contentment and awe.  If I endeavour to set this as my default mode, then I have no time to be anything else. 

Living between awe and gratitude

At its highest level, I believe ridhaa is to be in a state where Allah is pleased with me.  To achieve that, I have learnt that I must not only be passively accepting of my fate in life but to be genuinely satisfied with it.  Using all my positive energy, I must not only know how to survive but how to thrive.

A Personal Review of Ramadan

For the things we are aware of and those we are not

Alhamdulillah, we are almost at the end of the blessed month.  Perhaps saying “Alhamdulillah” might seem an inappropriate choice of word.  It suggests a sense of relief.  However, I mean it in the sense that I have been fortunate to have experienced most of this month and inshaAllah, will see it right to the end as well.

As all Muslims know, the month is not just about the fasting of the stomach.  At a higher level, we are urged to restrain ourselves from so many other undesirable habits of the body and mind like backbiting, wasting time and other fruitless pursuits.  At its best, Ramadan is a time where the heart is constantly connected to Allah.  It is a time of being more conscious of the actions of oneself and of the ego.

I have had the past few weeks to reflect on what I need to purge from within myself.  I know I need to learn more humility and point the judgemental finger right back at myself before waving it at others.  That is a serious reality check in itself.  I have had many moments of self-criticism and regret at past actions.  However, I am also full of hopefulness that I may be making some modest progress in terms of my life as a Muslim.  That middle ground is exactly where a Muslim is supposed to be: to live between hope in and fear of Allah.  To me, it makes perfect sense.

Ramadan is a time for re-energising the spiritual dimension of ourselves.  I know for many people, as good as their intentions may be, it is a struggle to even get started.  Sometimes life just gets in the way.  This is particularly true for women running a household on their own without a husband to help.  My heart goes out to them as I understand their plight too well.  Though my own children are no longer children as such, I can relate to the struggles these mothers are going through.  For them, it is not easy to listen to how others have achieved great spiritual leaps, through reading the Quran or extra prayers, when they are floundering with just the normal routine of everyday life.  If you are such a person reading my post now, I salute you.  I salute you for your commitment to your family and for going it alone without compromising your dignity and determination.  I salute you for having even just the intention to do so many extra deeds although you may not have had the chance to actually cross them off your list.  To all those women who singlehandedly are raising well-rounded children through personal sacrifices and societal sanctions, please know that this is a mission that is as noble as any other. 

My understanding is that Ramadan is a time to bring forth the best example of ourselves.  It is a time of community spirit and global awareness of what is happening across the Muslim world especially.  Whilst some of us may struggle to find time to read the complete Quran, or put our lives on hold to do extra acts of worship, the beauty is that worship can take many forms.  Looking after our children is a great example; sharing food with our neighbours; a phone call to an elderly or lonely person – these are noble causes not to be dismissed lightly.  So, even if the more personal goals for ourselves are not met, the part of our existence which is given over to taking care of the needs of others is a truly commendable one.  I hope some will take comfort from that.  Not all hope is lost.

Sometimes, striving to do more in Ramadan can be as simple (yet powerful) as controlling our thoughts while fasting.  This is a wonderful opportunity to learn to rein in some of those unsavoury thoughts rooted in anger, suspicion, jealousy and pride.  We try to pull the plug on them and instead, let them drain away.  That is not a small feat and it’s a continuous process but done at a time when Allah generously rewards us for any good we do, it’s a goal worth pursuing.

For myself, I am beginning to learn to have a more tenuous grip on this duniya (world) as I can’t hold onto it forever.  Indeed, I don’t want to.  To have lived another day of peace and good health is more than what I could have asked for, Alhamdulillah.  I am grateful for every seemingly positive and negative experience in the hope that they will all collectively make me move closer to my Creator. 

Thank You Allah Alhamdulillah For Everything

Readiness for Ramadan

A month like no other

The blessed month of Ramadan is almost upon us and my phone has already been exploding with notifications of upcoming webinars, lectures and tips for a productive month of worship and reward. As well-meaning as all of this is, I actually find it sends me into a state of frenzy and anxiety.

In an age where religion is easily dispensed through online platforms and is available at the click of a button, I am also cynical about being overwhelmed by it all.  It begs the question that if I watch one video after another, telling me how to use my time in Ramadan wisely, then surely the first step is to cut back on the videos themselves?  Too many scholars with too much advice and too much screen time can sometimes feel like binge watching in itself.  Passive learning on this scale leaves little time to get up and actually do something myself. 

I guess I want to go back to basics and try to fulfil the rights of this month without the intervention of the internet.  Like how an armchair traveller can claim to have seen the world without ever having left their seat, so too, we live in a time where people can have religion delivered to their fingertips without ever having to interact with a teacher face to face.  This isn’t to dismiss the positive outcomes that online platforms can offer.  However, these days it all seems too easy.  Islam is now delivered at our doorsteps like a pizza through Deliveroo.  We have become detached from the process of its making and are only interested in the final product if it is palatable to our tastes.    

Back to the Original Source

I sometimes wonder how the earlier generations of Muslims managed to motivate themselves through Ramadan without the advent of the internet.  They did not face the challenges of detoxification from social media and 24/7 newsfeeds on their phones.  Perhaps they had other challenges like finding clean sources of water just to function with their daily chores.  Whatever their challenges may have been, surely, scaling back from a fast pace of life was not one of them. 

Quite frankly, I do not wish to receive any more prescriptions for a successful Ramadan.  We all know that too many medicines can do more damage than good.  This year, my plan is very simple: I want it to be a month of conversations between myself and my Creator.  He will speak to me through the Quran as I aim to read it, inshaAllah.  Similarly, I plan to speak to Him through prayers and supplications.  I look forward to an extended period of stillness and quiet where I can enjoy hearing my own thoughts in my head which I pray will lead back to my Creator.  To accomplish this, I do not need another medium to intervene.  It will require my own personal effort and sacrifice.

So, as Ramadan approaches, I make no apology for not having prepared a food menu for the month.  It is enough that I know I can open my fridge an hour before maghrib and find things to put a meal together, Alhamdulillah.  I have no demands on me as mother to cook particular foods.  I would never accept that anyway.  In fact, I have never understood why households prepare fancy items in culinary terms when this is not the focus of this month.  

InshaAllah, this will be a quiet month away from any high drama of the world beyond my four walls.  It is the simplicity of the routine that I relish the most.  It is, no doubt, an exhausting time especially as we near its end but the rewards we hope to accrue are more than worth the sacrifices we make to achieve them.

I wish my fellow Muslims peace in this blessed month and pray we take the harvest of this month to sustain us through the time beyond. Ameen.

Less is More

No Present like Time

The best present is the present

It’s a gift we are all given yet most of us are unaware of.  Time.  We squander so much of it either living in the past or worrying about the future.  We’re often not content with just being in the moment and enjoying what we have now.

I have witnessed my own mother stagnate for the last 40 years or so since she separated from my father.  Unable to mentally move on, her life has always been anchored to – and weighed down by – her past.  If I could compare it to a ship, I would say there have been many times she has let herself become submerged with sorrow and gone under; she has let the bitterness overwhelm her and cripple her ability to move on.  What is both bizarre and frustrating for me, is that she tries to mirror her own reality onto me.  She has convinced herself that I have entered a similar state of emotional paralysis and am unable to free myself from the fetters of my past. 

Alhamdulillah, nothing could be further from the truth.  Yes, I had to go through the necessary dark period of shock, denial then acceptance.  However, I can confidently say that I am out of that tunnel and soaking up the sun.  I will not give my life over to someone else twice and especially not in their absence.  Time is a gift I do not want to surrender without using it wisely.

I enjoyed many happy moments and experiences in my marriage but those days are over.  Now I have to create a new definition of ‘happy’.  Isn’t it a curious coincidence that the word ‘time’ means  ‘the present’?  A synonym for ‘gift’.  It surely is something to marvel at.  A gift given for free by Allah.  He determines the longevity of our lives and as much as it is a gift, it is incumbent upon us to take the challenge to use this gift sensibly.

As much as I don’t wish to get stuck in the quagmire of the past, neither do I want to look with hopelessness at unattainable future goals which will never be met.  Take, for example, the dream of buying a large family home. Rather than wallow in self-pity, I’d be far more productive if I target shorter-term goals within my reach.  It’s not that I dare not set my sights too high for fear of failure.  It’s just that I understand being kind to myself, giving myself workable goals, is part of the longer journey to recovery.  Setting and achieving goals do not always move in a linear dimension in sync with time but move they will, insha’Allah.

As long as you keep moving with time….

I have heard of the adage, “If you want something done, ask a busy person.”  SubhanAllah, I could not agree more.  I have been most productive when under pressure to do many things at once.  It’s taken me these four or five years to finally realise that Allah wanted me to find my own way in life.  Since I have been on my own, I have been the master of my own time.  With Allah’s help, I get to determine the course of my day, my week and even year.  Having that responsibility has made me more accountable to myself about how I use my time.  Not only do I get to prove to myself I can do things on my own but, more importantly, I am learning and honing my own personal skills in time management Alhamdulillah.

Sometimes gifts don’t come wrapped in boxes with pretty bows. Sometimes they can’t even been seen or touched.  But too often, they go unnoticed.   In recent months and years, I have preoccupied myself with trying to get more out of my time than ever before.  I have seen too many people waste their lives lamenting on the past they had or the future they never will.  If I can get through each day without any major drama, having been able to have met my basic needs, I can say it was a successful day.  I have exhausted the ‘if only’ scenarios and I know that kind of talk is only from Shaytan himself.  I trust that Allah knows that where I am right now is the best place for me.  With that, I accept His gift of time graciously.

Should I Forgive to Forget or Forget so that I may Forgive?

Questions constantly move back and forth in my mind

This is one of those conundrums that I have often found myself in when pondering over the sense of having been wronged.

For the most part, I think I forgive so that I may forget.  I have forgiven all those who have hurt me knowingly or unknowingly.  To be honest, the only impetus for that is my own selfish need to be forgiven by Allah.   Take this analogy:  If a pilot knows he is in danger and needs to land his plane safely to save his life, at that point he is not meticulously counting or fretting about every individual passenger on that plane.  They will inevitably benefit from a positive outcome if he makes a successful landing.  They are simply accessories in the bigger picture.   Similarly, the focus of my personal dilemma is me and the need to purge my own self.  It is not about other individuals per se.  I know my faith teaches me to forgive my aggressor if I wish that Allah would forgive me in return.  If I wish to receive Allah’s mercy, then I need to learn how to show mercy too towards others, even when they did not necessarily deserve it.

To forgive first, unequivocally, is a huge step towards helping oneself forget the unpleasant past.  My own theory is that recognising this link comes with understanding the ego.  I do not believe it is the instinctive thing to do for many people. I believe the ego is very much a dimension of us that belongs totally to this world.  As such, it is extremely difficult to keep it in check.  It is one of many worldly pursuits and concerns which are often the downfall of us all.  Although the ego is not a tangible thing, that does not make it any less real.  We all need to be aware of its existence.

It is for precisely this reason, that I have been training myself to try and forgive first.  Fight the ego. Bury the past.  Draw a line under it and leave it there.  The surprising result in doing this is that I can then learn to forget.  Once I can distance myself from previous events, then perhaps the memories will fade like a sepia photograph, to the point where one day they will completely disappear.  Then, as I forget a bit more, I can accommodate more forgiveness.  It is a repeating cycle.

Some people believe a precursor to forgiving others is to try forget the harm they have caused.  Thus, there is no forgiveness until that negative experience has been completely erased from their memory.  Arguably, to try and forget something ever happened can be viewed as a form of emotional suppression.  Some may even say it is unhealthy.  Surely, being open about our feelings and emotions is cathartic in itself?  Yet, I would also argue that if I suffocate the bad memories long enough, maybe I will deprive negative thoughts the opportunity to develop and wrap their tendrils around my mind. 

The simple truth is, we are an embodiment of contradictions.  It is only Allah that can guide our hearts to peace.

We all have egos and we know ego is often a synonym for arrogance, vanity and pride and it’s for that reason I cannot let it win.  However, where I find myself seeking forgiveness for others, I also have found that it does cleanse my own heart and a certain peace occupies the ugliness that once lingered there.  In turn, I can actually go for long periods where I forget the cause of that pain and move on and live in the present where I would very much like to be.  So, in that sense, yes, I do forgive in order that I may forget too.  But it is a work very much not complete.

When I say “I think I have forgiven”, I make no mistake about my choice of words.  That is because over the months and years, I have often vacillated about where I stand when assessing past incidents.  I am a mere mortal; I don’t wear a seraphic halo around my head.  I am in constant battle with my ego and my intellect.  Emotional pain can be buried but, like a weed, it can also erupt from the depths of a dark place and find its way to the surface again so soon.  It does not take much to be catapulted back to the past.  The memory of a conversation, a photograph, a favourite dish, a place previously visited…  These are all fiendish reminders of the past. 

So, in a very convoluted way, to answer my own question at the beginning of this post, I cannot say I subscribe to one or the other.  My views are very much connected to my circumstances and emotional state and it is a cycle that keeps going round.  The only one thing that is clear is that the process of inner cleansing is a long, arduous one.  I know for some, it has taken years before they can finally say they have sealed the past and moved on.  I am not quite there yet though, Alhamdulillah, I can see a lot of progress has been made.  However, Alhamdulillah, I am at least always conscious of the need to rise above my own short-sighted pride.  Instead, I must learn to appease the soul. 

A Lesson in Emotional Self-Defence

The ingredients of a successful marriage

If there’s one thing that I am grateful for since my divorce, it is the return of total independence in my life.  I mean independence from another human being.  That is not to suggest that I suffered miserable subjugation at the hands of another.  However, it is true that whilst I was married, I gave up a huge part of myself and let another person lead the way and dictate our direction in life.  Perhaps that is not unusual in any marriage.  It is called compromise, though, arguably, women do it more than men.

Since my former husband and I parted ways, I have learnt to restore control over my own life and major decisions.  To the best of my abilities, those decisions are circumscribed by my faith and identity as a Muslim.  The consciousness with which I need to be aware of my relationship with Allah has been heightened, Alhamdulillah.  I can no longer rely on someone else to steer myself and my children into the realm of religiosity. As a by-product of the new situation I find myself in, I have had to protect my emotional state too.  This is because without a sound mental existence I would be unable to make financial decisions, support my children through their spiritual and academic journeys and learn to run a household at all levels. 

I no longer have the protection of and reliance on another person – the one person who I never expected to disappoint so many people so extraordinarily.  Being left exposed, as such, I have had to raise my emotional defences even higher.  The drawbridge has been lifted.  The fortress of my mind is under guard. 

Divorce has brought with it cynicism about many (but not all) Muslim men.  I am aware that is an unfortunate stance but it is born out of too many negative experiences and encounters.  No doubt, people will say I am simply bitter.  On the contrary, my opinion is the result of personal empirical evidence garnered over years. 

Perhaps the worst offenders are those men who purport to serve as bastions of Islam.  They are all too ready to educate the rest of us about religion.   However, these same people are not able to stand criticism of their own actions.  Religion is something they dispense to others.   At best, when they speak, it proves their oblivion to the innate female disposition. At worst, they have utter contempt.  Sadly, they have hijacked religion to suit their own male agenda and needs.

When I was notified of divorce through an emotionless email, I realised I was never, not once, given the opportunity to at least express my version of events.  My right to at least be heard by the two male witnesses, even if the outcome would not have changed, was never offered to me.  This is the least courtesy that I could have been afforded before the gavel came down upon my marriage.   It begs the question: “Is the singular perspective of a man, on his own marriage, all that is required for the portentous decision to allow it to be dissolved?”

Reverberations of the gavel still resonate now

As such, I felt like I had been taken to a slaughterhouse and thrown out as a carcass to rot.  I may as well not have been a human.  However, I do not decry my fate of divorce.  Alhamdulillah, I accept Allah wants the best for me.  I do, however, complain to the men about how it was delivered.  Given the gravity of such a life-changing decision, it is important for others to recognise that sometimes the end does not justify the means.

This brings me to another thought…  A lot of publicity is given for women to be trained in physical self-defence in the event of an attack.  However, less is said about the emotional self-defence a woman must prepare herself for in life.  I learnt this lesson late.   Too many women are not taught their right to speak or to politely dissent.  To compromise no end or be silent are the alleged hallmarks of a great woman.  The corollary is that to go against these traits must be a sign of deviation from Islamic teachings. Right?   

In the years since my divorce, I have taught myself emotional self-defence.  I have begun to discern the difference between male bigotry vs. altruistic concerns. Women – you need to protect your mental state.  A good place to start is to know the tenets of your Islamic faith.  Weed out the cultural nonsense.  Find your voice.  Be masters of your own financial status.  Know that your own dreams are worth pursuing.  Your goals are just as important as anyone else’s.  Sacrificing it all for the sake of others, even the children, can create resentment that manifests itself years later.  It is so important that a woman’s personal goals remain alive and run parallel to everyone else’s.  The myth that it’s OK if she stagnates as the ultimate act of altruism is absurd.

No more excuses!

The beauty of living independently is that I now govern my own life – from the everyday tedious things to the larger, longer-term decisions.  The only person I need to please is Allah – not the irrational whims of another human.  Using my own experience, I would like to educate women to let them know that life is not a guaranteed straight road.  Around every bend there will be a surprise.  Chances are you will run into a head-on collision with the very person you put your total trust in.  Be prepared.  Always. 

Every Day is Mother’s Day

It is a curious Western tradition that today sees many people around the world celebrate their Mother.  There is no doubt that the intention behind the idea of singling out a specific day to dedicate to all mothers, in recognition of their unconditional love and service to their families, is a commendable one.  However, I am a cynic.

The status of Mother is, unquestionably, the highest platform that any woman can hope to achieve.  I would argue it is nobler than any paid job.  A mother takes on her role with a dignified sense of duty and knows this is a responsibility for life.  She has committed herself to the most difficult job in the world without any previous experience – a meeting of two extreme situations.  Yet, more often than not, many wonderful women take the role in their stride and flourish. 

As individual as we all are, so too are the ways in which we raise our children.  There is no agreed formula with which we work.  There is no parenting handbook.  There is no guarantee things will turn out OK.  It is a pure labour of love which leads to a constant tussle of decisions of the heart vs. the head on a daily basis.  No other job in the world calls for so many ad hoc decisions.  There is no written contract for guidance, no remunerations and no chance of promotion.

I understand Mother’s Day does not undermine the other 364 days of the year where women also wear the label of motherhood.  I acknowledge the day is an opportunity to highlight the noble position and sacrifices a mother makes on behalf of her children and family.  Yet, to be honest, this is a sentiment that should be consistent and pervade throughout the year.  At no time should this fact be forgotten. Ever. 

In my observations of Western society, however, I see that Mother’s Day, (like so many other man-made, farcical celebrations such as Valentine’s Day), is a very disingenuous display of affection.  Ostensibly, some fuss is made for mothers but this is a lamentable tribute to the uncountable days, weeks and years a mother invests in her entire family and not just her children.  When Mother’s Day is over, weary mothers put their apron strings back on and return to the dreary routine once more.  They are taken for granted yet again.    Meanwhile, their children can feel pleased with their own meagre efforts of repayment.

In stark contrast, a Muslim knows that every day is Mother’s Day.  Kind gestures to our mothers, such as giving flowers, serving breakfast and just being there, are ones which a Muslim mother should be able to take for granted.  Always.  These are some of the most base level things a mother can ask for.  Never, in a functioning Muslim household, is there a moment where a mother is displaced from her pedestal and set down elsewhere.  As long as she respects and honours her own position, she can safely assume the reciprocal relationship follows naturally.

Islam acknowledges the sacrifices a mother makes from the moment of conception of her child to the responsibility she embraces for the rest of her, or her children’s, lives.  In a previous blog post, I quoted the famous Prophetic hadith (saying), where the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him), when asked three times about who is most deserving of good treatment, replied on each occasion, “Your mother”.  On the fourth occasion, he replied, “Your father.”

There is a very interesting point to note here.  I read the hadith as a stark warning for men to beware of their own lesser position relative to women.  It is a tragedy that too many Muslim men walk the Earth with puffed up pride and seek to undermine their womenfolk when Islam does exactly the opposite.  Isn’t that an irony?  Whilst it is important for mothers not to abuse this divine favour upon them, it is equally important for husbands and fathers to understand that the hierarchy has already been set.  Alhamdulillah, a mother’s honorary position, in the eyes of Allah, and even her children, is unwavering.  This is very much nature as it is nurture.

And the other way around too…

So, for me, Alhamdulillah, every day is a day in which I celebrate motherhood with my children.  We have our angry outbursts, our disagreements and even moody silences.  However, Alhamdulillah, these are the rarer moments that punctuate the mutual respect and love that flows between us.  I may not get served breakfast in bed but I am served respect and love on a daily basis, Alhamdulillah.  The intangible items speak volumes compared to the tangible ones.

Anyone reading my post may totally disagree with me.  But I accept that.  Life teaches us to have different perspectives on any one theme.  I prefer consistency in expressions of affection rather than short-lived, fake outbursts.  The longer-term consistent actions are testimony to a deeper respect than the shallow, temporary gestures.  Am I too demanding?  For the selfless sacrifices I have made for many years as a mother, and now as a mother on her own, I believe I am well within my rights.