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Compassion through Computers?

In this digital age, most of us are compelled to conduct our personal and professional transactions through the faceless and soulless online frontier. We have been sucked up into a voluminous vortex from which there is no escape. Though it has its advantages, it comes as no surprise that a lot of people lament the loss of real human interactions in everyday life. Unfortunately, trying to resist modern changes is like rowing backwards in a canoe on the edge of a waterfall.

There is one particular digital trend amongst all the others which leaves me a little uncomfortable. It is the concept of the online charitable donation. The effortless task of sending money to a charity via the click of a button, in the knowledge that it will translate into relief for some hapless soul on the other side of the world, is, of course, a satisfying one. It eases my conscience and for a time I can convince myself I am engaged with those less fortunate than myself; I reassure myself that my niyyah (intention) was a good one. Insha’Allah (God willing), it will be rewarded. Isn’t that what matters? However, soon after, I know I return to my oblivious and disconnected state again.

But perhaps the online means does justify the end. Perhaps I am being too hard on myself. Perhaps I am my own worst critic. Allah knows I have had to reluctantly succumb to this dispassionate method of giving. After all, I don’t have the means to travel overseas to the places where help is needed most and personally deliver assistance. However, I am beginning to tire of the vacuum of emotion in the process of charitable giving. I feel I want to do more. I would like to pretend that the reason is inexplicable, but the truth is I know why I don’t feel totally satisfied.

*It should always be more about just money*

The first reason is that by seeing or meeting others less fortunate than myself, I want to be reminded of my good fortune. This exposure would, I believe, keep me rooted in gratitude and humility. I would hope that I could not forget Allah’s favours upon me if I had the opportunity to regularly meet those in destitution. My inflated ego might be kept in check.

Yet more importantly, I have recently become restless with the desire to do more than congratulate myself over a simple bank transfer. My own opinion of meaningful charity is the type which comes at a price to myself. Not just in terms of money, but the type which causes slight inconvenience since this is where the challenge really lies. Charity is often narrowly viewed as donations of money. We know, however, that it can encompass a myriad of things such as donations of food, clothes, mentoring and even just our time. This is the kind of charity I have always wanted to get involved with ever since I can remember. My life’s ambition was to be part of an NGO out in the field where I can see results coming into effect.

Although I have worked for a large charity in an office setting, my heart always yearned to be personally involved in the places where the recipients are most in need. It is not that I want to massage my own ego or to be told I am doing a great thing. I have simply wanted to empathise directly with others and to be witness to their successes.

Cynics would say that kind of experience would become more about me than the recipients. However, I would argue that the kind of help I would like to be part of is not a short-term, ephemeral fix. I would like to be part of long-term grassroots projects which give people dignity and independence. Placing a bag of rice in the hands of a poor person is admirable but sometimes it is the intangible gifts we give that elevate others which are so much more meaningful.

I have hope that I will be able to do such work soon insha’Allah. As my time becomes more my own, I pray I can make my dream a reality. Of course, how much of my life remains is an unknown but this should be more reason to push on rather than give up. Like many women, I have surrendered a large chunk of my life to being a wife and mother. Though the first role no longer exists, the second, more important one, remains and always will.

Last year, I made a vow to myself to step out of my comfort zone and BE the change that I wanted to see in this world. I started with this blog – my lifeline to sanity, my soliloquy on a very public stage. It has brought me more healing than I care to imagine. I also started a new job in teaching where I see my work underpinned by the concept of humanity. This is the kind of sadaqa (charity) which I can do from my own home. The human and personal transactions are absolutely core.

Be The Change' Mahatma Gandhi Motivational Quote Poster — *Don’t wait for someone else to do it for you*

Whilst right now I cannot be out in the field pursuing my dreams of educating children in far-off places, or building a shelter, or helping women become masters of their own financial well-being, I know all hope is not lost. I can incorporate charitable deeds in my daily interactions right now, right here. Those deeds are not limited to humans. They involve animals and even plants. Online transactions often lack the presence of all aspects of our being. Long after the bank transfer has been made, the compassion needs to live on.

One of my greatest wishes is to have my sons accompany me should I have the opportunity to see a project through. I am sure it will make an indelible imprint on their young minds. We have already experienced hardships when we lived out in Western Africa and, for that, I have no regrets. Whether they acknowledge it or not, it has definitely shaped their personality to some extent today.

My utmost belief is that travelling is the best education as it gives us exposure to things we could only ever had read about from a safe and detached distance. Having seen and lived amongst some of the poorest people in the world, I am grateful to them for teaching me what to value in life.

The truth is, I have come to learn that the poorest people are, in fact, often some of the richest. I will let the reader figure that one out for themselves…

Unsticking the Stigma

Looking at the blog title, it should not come as a surprise that my topic today is about Divorce. Yes, I say Divorce with a capital ‘D’. This is because the impact of it can’t be overemphasised. Why am I still dwelling on this topic given it’s been almost five years since that decisive turning point in my life?

The truth is, a momentous event such as Divorce lives with you forever. Yes, you can – and do – rebuild your life in many ways, but the ramifications of it linger much longer than the actual deed itself. However, on this occasion, I don’t wish to talk about my own personal experience. I have returned to this inescapable subject only because I recently have been reading online stories of Muslim women who are either on the brink of Divorce or have just gone through one. Although nobody’s experience is identical, their personal stories resonate with me to a lesser or greater extent. My heart secretly weeps for those who are still trying to figure out what went wrong or, worse still, are still making excuses for their husbands who deserve anything but that. I ask myself, “Where did these women lose their grip on their own identities and become subsumed by another human being?” Will they understand that life will continue and that things may even be better without the bane of their frustrations?”

Somewhere in their marriages, over the years, it is clear their main purpose in life has diminished to being a subservient entity in the service and at the whims of their husbands. I speak not with the emotions of a furious feminist or a misaligned misandrist. I speak from a place of being able to recognise a little bit of my past self in these women. If only I could convince them they will be fine if Divorce is indeed the fate written for them.

This is why I write here in my personal space within this blog. I always hope that I can elevate someone’s spirits and let them know that my conversation, though not addressing them directly, is anything but impersonal. I am talking to all my bereaved sisters who may feel that empathy and sympathy from others have run dry.

I strongly believe that coming to terms with Divorce is not just about the emotional and financial readjustments one has to make with life. Some of us women, for some bizarre reason, even skip that scenario and fast forward to questions about how we are going to face society. Culture teaches us to fret about irrelevant matters first: “How do we explain what went wrong? Who will have sympathy with us? Where shall I say my ex-husband is now?” In a cruel world, we women become the victim twice. The first is when we and our children are abandoned by our husbands. The second, arguably even more unjustifiable, is when we are abandoned by wider society. In the immediate aftermath of Divorce, we carry the burden of guilt or shame for not being ‘good enough’ to hold onto our husbands because, of course, had we ‘done things right’, these men would never have left us in the first place. Right? Meanwhile, the reputation of most men who initiate Divorce on dubious grounds, remains intact. They were simply exercising their right to leave. It was nothing more, nothing less. A “Get out of Jail Free” card.

How does one even measure the ‘immediate aftermath’ of Divorce? I know, for myself, I perhaps have only just exited it after four or so years. Admittedly, how I arrived at this peculiar conclusion is because I now know I can confidently say, “I am Divorced,” and do not flinch any more or feel a strange contortion of my face when I utter those words. I have been peeling the stigma away until it has finally washed off, Alhamdulillah.

I am not going to live the remainder of my life as a pariah. I already know the discrimination I face, subtle or direct, as a Muslim, a person of colour, and a woman. I refuse to let Divorcee be another label to be brandished with, not least by those in my inner circle who should be protecting me from any derision. Intrinsically, I have not changed since becoming a single person again. If a society only deals with a woman favourably through the lens of marriage, then that society has not progressed at all. Unfortunately, it is also the reason why many women remain trapped in loveless marriages all for the sake of being able to feel validated with the title of ‘wife’.

I take comfort from my own Islamic heritage and the knowledge of the Seerah (the biography of the Prophet (peace be upon him). I am reminded of the early Muslims and how Islam never denigrated the status of a divorced Muslim woman. The first and most beloved of the Prophet’s (peace be upon him) wives, Khadijah (one of the Mother of the Believers), was herself divorced and yet he did not let this deter him from marrying her. There are many other examples in Islamic history too numerous to mention here.

For now, I would like to say that, on behalf of all Muslim women out there, and others, I hold my head up high. I will never allow myself or my children to be marginalised on account of being the inadvertent victims of another man’s whims. Alhamdulillah, I understand it is up to me to define myself and not be defined. I also know that I belong to Allah only and to Him is my return.

*Surely We Belong to Allah and to Him we will return. Quran, 2:156*

Learning Not to Judge at Face Value

I was recently asked, “Where do you get the inspiration to write your blog posts?” To be honest, for the most part, I rarely plan what the conversation for each week will be. My inspiration usually occurs during an epiphanous moment I have in the middle of a casual conversation with someone or when I reflect on an event that has just passed.

Today is no exception. My musings arise from an online meeting I had earlier in the day with members of a small Muslim charity. I believe I was the newest member of the team. I was simply struck by the ethnic diversity represented in that one body of people – from Singapore to Sudan and Ireland to Iran. I was just spellbound! Aside from the main purpose of the meeting itself, I sat in secret awe at how wonderful Allah’s creation truly is, SubhanAllah (praise be to Allah). My mind drifted to how I can see what amazing things humans can achieve if they break down their own stubborn stereotypes or insularities.

As Muslims, we are united by the commonality of our faith. We understand that Islam is the way of life that abrogates all other previous Abrahamic dispensations. We do not deny the previous prophets. In fact, we revere them and the validity of the core tenets of those faiths. What Islam achieved, however, above and beyond any other religion, was to teach that there is no superiority of one race over another, of man over woman, or one tribe over another, except in piety and obedience to Allah. We know this is true as it is a statement that formed part of the Prophet Muhammad’s (peace be upon him) final khutbah (sermon) during the Farewell Pilgrimage or Hajj. No other prophet had singlehandedly delivered a message that was universal to all humankind.

From my own experience, having married into another culture altogether, I knew I had been freed from the stifling shackles of my own. Aspects of any culture which discriminates against other people based on superficial criteria, such as appearance and social status, is in direct conflict with Islam. Although culture per se as a manmade construct is not inherently in conflict with religion, it is true that the undesirable parts of it have to be weeded out. Weeding is a regular process. It takes constant introspection to remind ourselves not to succumb to our own prejudices and preconceptions.

Regular maintenance to keep the balance right

Upon learning that my marriage did not survive, I heard others insinuate that it was precisely because I was naïve or had too much of a lofty ideal about crossing cultures; I was trying to pretend it was not a contributing factor in the death of my marriage. I take a strong stance against that view simply because I know a good many monocultural marriages that have also not stood the test of time. There is no rhyme or reason to these things. Whatever my own personal story is, I will always maintain that Islam has taught me open-mindedness and tolerance towards others – even those who are not Muslim or of any religious disposition. Faith should not beget arrogance or any kind of complacency. I know it is only Allah’s mercy that keeps me tied to my faith. It could all change in the blink of an eye if I take my finger off the pulse for even a brief moment.

Having lived on both sides of the fence, so to speak, I can confidently say that finding my faith and trying to delve deeper into understanding it, has actually liberated me of so much nonsense in my life. Today, I have friends who are Muslim and of such a beautiful array of ethnicities and colours. I have friends who are not Muslim too and we respect one another and agree to disagree. We all add to each other’s nuanced perspective on life itself. My world is not the distorted and ugly picture played out on the media – of Muslims constantly in a default position of hatred towards everyone else. This is absolutely the antithesis of what I have come to learn and love.

From my tiny platform here, I hope I am heard loud and clear by all that I have learnt to see beauty in all things – in people, in nature and in Allah Himself. I could not have done this had Allah not taught me how. Insha’Allah my voice, with many other rational Muslims, will drown out the pitiable moans of the antagonists, those who claim to speak about Islam without even ever having lived it. Unfortunately, that group extends to even those who stand reluctantly under the banner of Islam because it is a spot they inherited from their parents, rather than earned it for themselves.

Alhamdulillah, I have seen critics of my own life choices finally eating their words. It has been a great test of my patience to have had to wait for that day but I can testify that the fruit is very sweet. And it is not a question of victory for me. It is a victory that belongs to Allah alone.

Patience For and With the Good

We all know the need to bear patience when things don’t go to plan. Our plan. How many times have we heard someone give that timeless advice to keep positive, understand that when things go seemingly wrong, it’s Allah’s way of testing us to remain calm? We need to put our wholehearted trust in Him. I totally agree with that advice.

We also believe, as Muslims, that any suffering endured with grace and dignity in this life is a means of purification and redemption on the other side of this life, insha’Allah. To summarise, we have often witnessed that whilst going through a negative life experience, it is encumbent upon us to have patience. Whilst that is an admirable goal, I have recently become more aware of how it is only part of the whole picture.

Being the inherently myopic and impatient kind of people that we are, it is rarely understood that having patience is also an essential characteristic in times of ease and comfort. I know that seems illogical. What is there to be patient about when life is already full of goodness in its many forms? Isn’t having patience a waiting game that we need to master in the face of adversity only? Wrong.

To be honest, I never gave the idea of being patient in good times much thought. However, the COVID-19 pandemic has opened my eyes to such a nuanced perspective on life, I cannot possibly encompass it all in one blog post. For now, I want to mention how I realise I am extremely fortunate with my lot in life, Alhamdulillah. Good fortune itself is not always a tangible entity. It is not always measured in commodities or cash. Sometimes, it is simply a state of peaceful inner acceptance of one’s circumstances. With good fortune follows the need to bear patience in the handling of these blessings. You see, it is possible that a person is blessed with wealth of different kinds but, in haste, squanders it on fruitless or futile pursuits. In extreme cases, wealth may even be spent on haram (forbidden) things such as a gambling habit or alcohol. Rash decisions are invariably a consequence of impatience. It’s this type of situation that requires a heightened awareness of patience as comforts in life often bring with them a certain heedlessness as well.

Coming back to today, I sit here in my home and wonder about the human suffering which exists across the world – be it physical, financial or emotional. I admit I feel a sense of guilt for not having been tested to such an extreme as others have. I wonder what did I do to deserve to escape such painful challenges? And yet, I console myself by reminding myself that Allah did not choose those particular trials and tribulations for me. He has given me my own personal challenges. He knows how and when to give everyone their share of grief and their share of calm. Yet in all those situations, the unwavering constant is the need to remain patient. Arguably, striving for patience in our quiet phases of life is an even bigger challenge since the smokescreen fools us into thinking there is nothing left for us to do. Life is good.

Do I, therefore, wish to swap my current peace for upheaval just so I may always avoid complacency and be kept on my toes? I think that would be foolish. However, I need to remind myself that comforts in life are as much a test as they are a blessing. We can easily become lost in moments of unguarded arrogance. On this Earth we tarry for some time but the amusements are as consequential as the hardships.

In truth, the question we need to ask ourselves is this:

Do we need to learn patience or must we have the patience to learn?

The Secret of Insouciance

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about longevity. I guess when the prime of life has passed, this is the inevitable phase that the mind enters.

Coronavirus, lockdown, vaccines, isolation, death…all pretty grim words that have become part of the vernacular of front doorstep conversations and political debates across the world. Glancing at news headlines, I vacillate between cautious optimism and downright despair. Recently, my stress has piqued over the last few days because of a new personal situation that has arisen. Alhamdulillah, it has nothing to do with my health or my children’s wellbeing although the very nature of stress itself is that it will – and does – impact the peaceful status quo of life.

Whilst I don’t need to divulge the details of my situation, I confess it has made me check the balance of my mind and its workings – again. It has served as a test of my faith. I have found myself doing a bit more introspection and asking difficult questions such as: How strong is my resolve to remain calm and dignified? Will I focus on the empty half of the glass or the full half? Have I mastered patience in the face of adversity? Who do I call upon for help?

***Recognising stress is the path to managing it***

I recognise life’s tests now since I have recognised when my stress reaches a tipping point – something many of us can identify with. By far, my biggest test in life remains my divorce. Till now, I have not suffered anything more soul-destroying than that. Alhamdulillah, it was nothing worse. However, no other event has pummelled me so much in terms of my confidence and self-worth. Yet even then, I did not throw an outward tantrum or kick and scream. Instead, the storm raged within whilst I learnt how to quell it. I did that only through conversations with Allah and striving to be patient with my lot. With that experience, I hope I will handle future crises with a similar sense of calm insha’Allah.

Back to today and it would appear from the outside that I don’t care about what is going on around me. In fact, far from it. I care very much about the circumstances I am in. However, with age comes a certain wisdom which one can never grasp until they have been through all the motions of life themselves. Having ventured out into the world and come full circle, like many people, I realise now what matters most. I am mastering the art of being calm. Faith in Allah is the secret of my insouciance. Therefore, when circumstances change, when other variables exit and enter, if my faith never wavers, I am already on a road to success. It will not allow me to succumb to the transient nature of life itself. So, you see, insouciance is not necessarily a negative thing; it is not the hallmark of a flippant or frivolous person. It is an inner state of being in control of one’s own emotions and not being overwhelmed by worldly concerns. To remain unflappable is an enviable trait especially when all around you are losing their heads. I admit it is a work in progress but one that I am increasingly striving for.

**Balancing stress and calmness is delicate but achievabl**e

Alhamdulillah, I am truly blessed to have my sons help me when my own perspective on things becomes blurred. I know their youth is not a synonym for naivety. When I related to them about my feelings of unrestrained anxiety over this recent situation, my eldest reminded me of a very valuable lesson from the Seerah – the life of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). It was of the incident in the cave when the Prophet (peace be upon Him) had been commanded by Allah to leave Mecca to save his life. His enemies, who had rejected Islam, were hot on his trail and determined to kill him. With him was his devoted companion, Abu Bakr. As the two men remained hidden in the cave, they heard the tribesmen outside, knowing full well how close to death they were. Whilst Abu Bakr feared the worst, Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) prayed and reminded him that the third amongst them was Allah so they had nothing to fear. What a profound comment! And I am eternally grateful that my sons have the maturity to help placate me in crucial moments of stress before things get ugly.

Allah knows, with the challenges I have faced in life, that I have had many opportunities to practise inner calm. If I do not strive to master this skill at this stage of my life, I should be worried. No doubt, I have lived the best part of my life already (if I am counting the years). Therefore, insha’Allah, I know that whatever happens to me outwardly, the core of my being needs to remain firm and strong. That core is an intangible one and relates to the spiritual dimension of my existence. I may not be able to see it but I know for sure it is there. Moreover, Allah knows it too.

Birthdays are for Mothers

Today is a poignant day for me.

It is on this day, twenty years ago, I entered the unknown realm of motherhood for the first time, Alhamdulillah. Not to one child, but to two, Alhamdulillah.

As I reflect on those twenty amazing years gone by, I see my boys’ lives flash by me in seconds. Nostalgia fast-forwarded. From their time as tiny tots to the young, wonderful men they have become, it has been an honour to watch them grow. Today, the tables have turned and the relationship of dependency moves in both directions. In many ways, I often find myself relying on them for advice, moral support and sometimes just to humour me.

Becoming a mother is a point in your life from which there is no return. When life throws so many variables in your path, the one constant is the tie to your children. It is not a tenuous tie, unlike that of many absent, transitory fathers who falsely convince themselves that the odd phone call or message entitles them to be called ‘father’. Had it been that easy, I’m sure many women would have also recklessly abandoned their posts, pursued their own selfish desires and yet demanded to be called ‘mother’. Alhamdulillah, it is a divine gift embedded in the innate feminine programming that tells most mothers they cannot envisage a life without their children when the family breaks down. From the rubble of our past, we salvage precious pieces and return to rebuild and build higher and stronger. For the irreverant, we become irrelevant. Overnight. But sometimes a canon can backfire…..

Over four years ago, I would never have believed anyone who told me that divorce would be a refreshing harbinger of change for me and my boys. That’s because I lacked vision both in my sight, in my dreams and in my soul. I had voluntarily incarcerated myself into another person’s world and thrown away the key not realising I may need to make my exit one day. Alhamdulillah though, today my boys and I have all dipped our toes into unchartered waters and are now learning to float.

**Working with a situation and not against it**

We are moving with the current rather than trying to resist it. We are on individual journeys and collective ones and more often than not, we converge to discuss our progress before setting off again once more. I am experiencing an inner strength I never knew I had within. In many ways, my life has become uncluttered and simpler. I can now focus on myself and the boys. We have finally separated the insoluble elements from our lives and purified what remains. It’s beautiful Alhamdulillah.

So, for me, my boys’ birthday is not about cake and candles. It is not just about them accomplishing another complete year on this Earth. It is a personal celebration of motherhood. An affirmation that Allah has allowed me to occupy this role still. As such, the celebration is as much mine as is theirs.

*Some birthday celebrations do not have to be visible*

Life is a Pomegranate

**A fruit worth cutting simply to peer inside**

Let me explain….

In my opinion, the pomegranate is one of the most delightful fruits that exists, both pleasing on the eye and the tongue. To ponder over this miracle of nature is to be in awe of Allah Himself. It is also to have an amazing appreciation of life.

To prise open a pomegranate, takes both patience and diligence as the outer covering can often be unyielding. However, the reward for perseverance is well worth the wait. The secrets of the inside chambers are exposed to reveal serried ruby-red jewels – arils – each nestled neatly in cosy compartments. It’s impossible not to have one’s fingertips stained with the brilliant red colour as these arils are carefully removed from their dwellings. And all this delight is before the treasure has even been tasted itself!

So how does this all compare with life?

Well, I believe the pomegranate is a true microcosm of this duniya (the world). Its tough outer shell epitomises the Earth that we live in – the bedrock of our existence. This shell protects us and holds us secure and yet, simultaneously, it can suffocate and imprison us within. Undisturbed, it can be sometimes beautiful and other times not so much. There are times we want to break free from our current situations but our movements are forcibly restricted. When the ‘world’ is ripped apart and the status quo is no more, its inhabitants are rudely awoken from their slumber and thrown into disarray. In the chaos and confusion that ensues, they can often become riotous and even bloody.

That being said, the alignment of arils inside this wondrous fruit are a thing to marvel at. The tidy arrangement of these ‘little people’ is not random. Where we are placed and amongst whom is no accident. Far from it. It is a carefully considered grand design engineered by our Maker, Allah. We humans are brought into this life and selectively placed amongst our families and friends. This interdependency was fixed well before we began to come into being. Throughout our lives, we lean on this person and that; we learn to forge very close relationships with those who surround us; we are blessed with homes, both physical and metaphysical. At least this is true for many fortunate ones.

There are times, though, when Allah decides to rearrange the balance of things. As with the contents of a pomegranate that cascade out when split open, so it is that human relationships are irreversibly reshuffled too. To put things back as they were is simply impossible. For me, peering at the pomegranate jewels strewn across the surface of a plate, this is a visual allusion to divorce. I have to accept that the perfect order of life has been upset. It will be no more. There are also the rotten parts of the fruit which need to be discarded before they corrupt other parts. These are the bad relationships which serve no purpose other than to cause turmoil and destruction in our lives. That separation is as bracing as it is brutal.

However, as Muslims, we know that we must embrace the rough with the smooth. Therefore, we should not lose sight that the pomegranate is a true representation of the divine concept of beauty. Together, or alone, the arils and their seeds radiate beauty and bring light and joy to the world. Humans too, have a social responsibility to be beacons of beauty wherever they go.

The awe-inspiring pomegranate is a wonderful reminder to others that Allah’s majesty can be found everywhere. As a testimony to its greatness, on three separate occasions in the Quran, Allah refers to the superior status of the pomegranate amongst other fruit. (Surah Al-Anam: 99 and 141; Surah Ar-Rahman: 68)

So, you see, the pomegranate is the perfect metaphor of this life. It is as stubborn as it is sweet and it is as rewarding as it is a great test of our patience.

Listen Out for the Silence

Lockdown to open up to new ways of living

Lockdown. Perhaps not the most auspicious start to the new year. Or so we might think.

As I write, the majority of the population in the UK is living a life with strict limitations on movement in public. Shops, schools, universities and countless offices are lamenting the loss of their normal inhabitants. Instead, people have been forcefully confined to their own four walls and though the routine is not new, it is one which many are still struggling to adapt to. As a result, ‘mental health’ has become a buzz word in conversations. I myself often feel that the escalated urgency of the COVID-19 situation has caught me in my unguarded moments and taken me down an emotionally rough road upon which I do not wish to travel.

But lockdown has brought with it an unprecedented silence. It is not just the ethereal silence found in the streets or parks or shopping malls; it is a silence of the type within ourselves that has allowed a spiritual cleansing. I have found that the silence in my own life has been a welcome visitor – where the absence of idle gossip or irrelevant banter with others has led to a deeper contemplation of the purpose of my being. There is no doubt that the entire country is in a sombre mood. Where people used to engage in frivolous conversations or idle pursuits, instead, in their place today, we see more introspection. People seem too hesitant to allow themselves laughter any more. It almost feels disrespectful when we know that others have suffered personal tragedies or losses through this pandemic.

The virus has achieved the unthinkable in one fell sweep. As a Muslim, I firmly believe that the final prophet was Mohammad (peace be upon him) and that his message was to convey the Oneness of Allah. Though that message was delivered, that is not to say that Allah will not continue to send His warnings to mankind. Through the ages, we know of storms, floods and diseases which were delivered upon nations who transgressed His orders. Today, I am totally convinced He has done the same again. The question is: How many of us will concede this is a warning from Allah?

And so, I return to the Silence. It has provided that necessary space (for those who choose to care to understand it) to contemplate events till now and how they will move forward in their own lives from this point on. Silence provides a vacuum. No noise. No distractions. Just peace. For the discerning one, it would not go amiss that that vacuum is now a pure receptacle waiting be filled with a meaningful substance. That, in my opinion, is where Allah becomes the focus of our lives again. As the flotsam and jetsam of life is cleared, we can allow Allah to be firmly planted back to where He rightly belongs – at the centre of our everything.

Silence is the absence of sound. This past year we have all experienced a silence of sorts. It is the very absence of distracting sounds in our lives that has allowed the soul to ‘speak’ to the heart. In a normal world, the logical (or even illogical) mind often rules the heart and drowns out the voice of the soul which silently battles for a place at the podium too. And now, finally, under drastic global pandemic conditions, the soul stands at its rightly claimed spot – at the vanguard of the inner personal battle, determined to fight our inner demons. This is a time to let the soul speak. We need to reacquaint ourselves with the superior and spiritual dimensions of our existence again. We have been given the chance to declutter our lives.

Regular mind clearouts help keep the space clear for more useful things

I still try to remain positive in this strange period that we find ourselves in. Alhamdulillah, there have been unexpected but pleasant surprises along the way. Undoubtedly, the best outcome has been that the pandemic has definitely shaken me from a sluggish spiritual stupor. If we can all claim to be on a journey of reawakening, then there should be less regrets and more hope for the future. Insha’Allah.

Mapping a Route to an Unknown Destination

If there is anything I have learnt lately, it is to not overthink and overanalyse but to keep moving forward. There are enough inspirational stories out there of people going well out of their comfort zones in their advanced years and finding a whole new zeal for life.

I may not have any awesome aspirations like some others but I know I want to make every day count. Like how the sun’s rays still shine behind the thick grey blanket of clouds, I know that life sometimes must be seen from obscure perspectives. My future is already here……

*Looking behind the clouds and not just at them*

Ultimately, as Muslims, we believe Allah has control over everything. He knows what He has planned for us. Does that mean we sit here and do nothing? Of course not! Nothing is going to fall into our laps unless we make the effort to seek it out. The fact our future is kept a secret from us is wisdom in itself. It means we should continue to strive for whatever is halal (permissible) and maybe – just maybe – we will realise those dreams were already written in our destinies. If we miss our target, that’s OK too for it simply means it was never on the cards.

So, should we then lament a wasted effort? Definitely not. I would start on the premise that no effort is a wasted effort. If we invest towards a worthwhile goal, whether we achieve it or not, there are valuable lessons to be learnt along the way. It may be that we learn how to grow with success/failure, how to adapt to a change of circumstances or how to be creative and find other ways to obtain the goal we desire. In other words, it is not just about achieving the outcome per se. There are many ways to get to a place but the choices we make in getting there are the very things which shape us.

Sometimes, the journey becomes more significant than the destination itself.

**Learning to appreciate the road itself**

So, the way I see life now is like this: if some of my dreams don’t materialise, I want to be able to say, “Alhamdulillah, it was because it was not meant to be,” – that Allah had different plans for me. I never want to look back with regret, knowing that I had stupidly resigned myself to self-pity and defeat even before I got started. With that said, I also know I need to take manageable steps. I cannot overstretch my limits. I remind myself about the other responsibilities I have in my life right now namely, my children, who are quickly becoming fully-fledged adults.

My advice to other mothers on their own? Always have the passion to chase personal goals of your own which run in parallel to your children’s lives. Your kids will pursue their own happiness and chances are, even with the best intentions in the world, they cannot put your needs first all the time. It is not selfish behaviour. It is a simple reality. Therefore, do not find yourself suddenly wanting of a purpose to exist. You’ve been through all that already when the husband disappeared. Know that for entirely different and legitimate reasons, the children will follow suit soon after.

Insha’Allah, motherhood is a title I will never surrender. Its form will simply remould with every new phase of my boys’ lives. I am acutely aware of that. In anticipation of this, I have started to carve a niche for myself in this life where I continue to function as a fully-fledged member of society. (I say this knowing my longevity itself is an unknown). Decadence is borne of idleness and insha’Allah, I will strive to steer myself away from that pitfall as best I can.

My hope is that my legacy will be for my boys at least. I have no material gifts to pass onto them. Insha’Allah, their inheritance will be their mother’s formidable spirit. I pray they will see, in my example, someone who stood up even taller after each stumble along her path and whose temporary setbacks were just that – temporary.

A New Perspective on the Old

I’m writing today knowing that there is heaviness in many people’s hearts, not just about Christmas being cancelled, or 2020, but about so much beyond.

To be honest, although the months and years are obvious markers of the movement of time, I feel we should not get too fixated about measuring life against them. I say that only because it can lead to an even greater sense of depression. Like others, I have my own share of burdens and worries. I wouldn’t be human if I said I was immune to all the drudgery going on around me.

However, I want to continue to make plans and set myself goals even despite the misery out there. It may be that I don’t live long enough to see many (or any) of them through. That is not a cue for sympathy from others; it is simply a stark reality. How much time we have in this world is an indeterminable truth and my aim is to fit as much goodness as I can into it. I also want to relish those things which Allah has made available to me if only I choose to find them with not just my eyes.

In my last post, I alluded to the art of ‘seeing with the soul’ and I hope I continue to do this for however long or short my life is. Seeing with the eyes is a merely superficial vista on the world. It is like marvelling at the iceberg without understanding there is a wondrous yet invisible monolith below the surface. I like to believe that I am not a superficial person which is why, till today, I do not vie for material gains that serve no purpose other than to poison the ego.

It also explains why I made the choices I did in my past. The most significant of those was the person I chose to marry. At the time we married, he did not fulfil any material promises of a comfortable life. But I was looking not just with my eyes. To use the cliché expression, I was ‘soul-searching’ and found someone who helped nourish the things I believed would take me on a spiritual flight – and I was not disappointed, Alhamdulillah.

Twenty-two years since and I have now learnt to fly solo. I am reminded of Surah Mulk (Chapter 67), my favourite Surah of the Quran. I know many Muslims have their favourite chapter and Surah Mulk is the one that clinches it for me. It encompasses so much of what I understand my faith asks of me and how Allah wishes us to perceive Him. There is one particular ayah (verse) which has me completely in awe. It is as follows:

أَوَلَمْ يَرَوْا۟ إِلَى ٱلطَّيْرِ فَوْقَهُمْ صَـٰٓفَّـٰتٍۢ وَيَقْبِضْنَ ۚ مَا يُمْسِكُهُنَّ إِلَّا ٱلرَّحْمَـٰنُ ۚ إِنَّهُۥ بِكُلِّ شَىْءٍۭ بَصِيرٌ

(Surah Mulk – 67:19) Do they not see the birds above them with wings outspread and [sometimes] folded in? None holds them [aloft] except the Most Merciful. Indeed, He is, of all things, Seeing.

The powerful imagery that is conjured up in my mind, of a bird as it swoops, dives, soars and flies, is simply indescribable. I liken my own recent experience of ‘flying solo’ to that of a bird whose own taking to the skies is a direct result of the workings of our Creator. Who else can make the bold claim of supporting birds in flight? Maybe my mind is that of a simpleton when I would rather believe it to be one which is in awe of complex things. However, nature provides many insights into the fascination I have with the wonders Allah has placed on this Earth for us to remember and praise Him.

This past year, we have been forced to be tamed by a belligerent virus. We have returned to a humbler way of life. We have had to succumb to Mother Nature in a big way. Though it has created great havoc in our personal lives, there have been some positive outcomes and Earth has had some respite from the human pillaging of its natural resources. I hope we have all had the chance to take stock and rethink our roles in this. I am a strong believer in understanding Allah through the natural world. It is here we will never fail to find Him. To escape into nature is to find Allah.

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