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The Benefits of Being Busy

***Looking, Planning and Moving Ahead***

It’s one of the salient pieces of advice I was given a few years ago as I was struggling to come to terms with my new life. “Keep Busy.”

Not only has staying preoccupied with my current daily chores and tasks helped me remain focussed on my present life, rather than the past, it has had other hidden benefits which I didn’t envisage earlier on.

Perhaps the most obvious one is that staying busy has also given me a much-needed structure to my day/s. As a working person, I have a purpose to wake up and goals to meet that keep me moving forward. Whilst I am involved physically in those tasks, so too is my mind. When it comes to paid work, I guess many people view it as merely a means of income and, given the choice, would rather not be tied to such a monotonous drudgery. True, who wouldn’t love to be freed from the burden of having to earn a living just to survive? Yet I have been fortunate to have landed a job which, although not my ideal choice, has given me the chance to forget about my own stresses whilst I busy myself in it. I have the chance to be amongst a myriad of people on a daily basis. Those daily encounters, large or small, collectively serve to make me focus on, learn about and share in someone else’s issues and not my own. And all of these human transactions are so important in my own personal development and engagement with my present-day situation.

Of course, there are times I need to step back from life to relax and even vegetate. I make no apology for that. These moments are just as important as constantly being on the go. I need to recharge and reset myself before the next round and couldn’t pretend to live like an automated robot. All in all, Alhamdulillah, I think I have struck a healthy balance. How can I be so sure? I say that confidently because I realise as the time gap between my past and present widens, I am not so triggered any more. Not triggered by people’s comments, advice or even apathy. With each passing day, I am metaphorically throwing dust on each and every unwanted memory until it becomes buried even more.

Having a sense of mental peace within is an important foundation upon which I can fathom how to protect my physical wellbeing. In fact, the two are so inextricably intertwined, it’s difficult to know which one precedes the other. A bit like the “chicken or the egg” situation. I have discovered – after so many years of lacking the confidence to do something about it – to take control of my physical health and start regular exercise. This has lead to some weight loss, Alhamdulillah. I felt that I’d finally woken up from the lie that I’d sold myself that I could never achieve this goal. It was such an eye opener that I have no words to describe it. It’s no exaggeration that this discovery was borne out of the need to experience trauma and rise from the ashes and have a kind of rebirth. I had to hit rock bottom in life and work from ground zero. First, I had to take care of my mental health. However, this soon made me realise I needed to work on my physical health which in turn was wired back into my mental mindset. A win-win situation but one which had taken almost a lifetime to learn. Better late than never.

Essentially, this has been my definition of ‘keeping busy’ in the last few years. It hasn’t been a diary cluttered with stressful events. It has been about giving towards and taking the best from life where I can be productive.The formula has served me well, Alhamdulillah.

Feeling content and at peace with my lot, in a sincere way, has allowed me not to be perturbed by nonsense from others. They will not be able to shake my security again. The only situation where this could happen is if Allah wills. Nobody else will singlehandedly possess that ability as I’ve learnt to take away that privilege from them.

They say “two’s company, three’s a crowd.” There is great truth in that paradigm. Where there is Allah and myself, I can now understand why a third person would get in the way. My busy-ness will now shift more towards pleasing Him, inshaAllah.

An Albanian Adventure

In keeping with the promise I made to myself, I have just returned from a short trip to Albania with my sister and niece. When others asked, “Why Albania?” my reply was that I wanted to go to a place which none of us had visited before and was also within our budget. It turned out to be such a great experience that I can confidently say that Albania as a tourist destination is perhaps too easily overlooked and definitely underrated.

The country’s multi-layered history is palpable wherever you go. The most obvoius of these are the Communist and Ottoman eras which have their physical manifestations on the country’s landscape. In terms of ascetic beauty, they could not be more diametrically opposed. The brutal and bleak structures of the Cold War period are often juxtaposed with the awe-inspiring and beautiful Islamic edifices. Given this land has only recently emerged from the clutches of communism (in 1992), it’s not surprising that so much of that period’s architecture remains. And even though many mosques may have been deliberately destroyed at that time, the remaining Ottoman structures bear testimony to a deeply-entrenched Muslim presence over many centuries.

I often found myself having to remind myself that I was still in Europe proper – that I was not in an Asian country where 60% of the people happen to be Muslim and minarets of mosques still testify to the presence of Islam there. It was quite surreal. It was evident that years of communist rule had successfully managed to divest the people of their Muslim identity and heritage. However, I was also convinced that despite this, there were locals who still claim their Muslim heritage today. They may not be deeply imbued with Islamic etiquettes or knowledge, but even that tenuous link is a link that can’t be ignored. I am hopeful that perhaps in a generation or two, there will be a resurgence of Islam in Albania and people will awaken to the fact that history has robbed them of their true identity. The soon-to-be-opened Namazgah Mosque in the capital city, Tirana, modelled on the classic Ottoman design, is testimony that Islam is still alive in this country.

Like in Malaga, where I felt there was a sense of family and community, Tirana, and the other towns we visited, seemed to present the same vibe. No doubt there are the youths who are preoccupied in pursuing their selfish, hedonistic lifestyle but we met with a few individuals who also represented a population committed to family values and loyalties. That was very comforting to see. It’s something I feel is severely lacking the more westwards a person travels; in those places, life becomes a self-absorbed mission where success is measured in salaries and material possessions and life’s sole purpose is to experience self-gratification.

It seems the more I travel, the more I become detached from what I would identify as ‘home’. I have travelled and lived in enough countries to know I could easily swap a place of bricks and mortar for another. I am not suggesting that a short holiday in another country means that I now wish to live in that place. I am not that naive. However, seeing how things can be done differently, reaffirms to me that something is missing here in the UK. Admittedly, home is where family is. For now, that would be in England. And yet there is a part of me that would happily up sticks and start somewhere anew – a place where there is a soul to the community.

In my life, I’ve been fortunate enough to have had the experience of living in three very different countries besides England. The profundity of the impact each of those experiences has had on me is something I have only recently come to understand. I am truly grateful for them all – even the less savoury ones. Being a philosophical person, I have learnt to embrace the negative encounters and scrapes in life as these have been just as important in shaping the person I am today. None of them have been a waste.

RIght now, I look forward to seeing a bit more of the world. I don’t believe in a ‘bucket list’ just for the sake of bragging that I have stepped foot in yet another country. I am searching for deeper encounters with people and cultures which will reaffirm my faith in humanity. Alhamdulillah, for the ones I have had already. Insha’Allah there are still a few more yet to be enjoyed.

***Living Ad Hoc with No Bucket List in Sight***

Money Matters

***Not Always the Definition of Success***

I wonder how many people would read this blog title and see the word ‘matters’ as a verb rather than its intended meaning as a noun. It makes all the difference and would influence someone’s perspective of me. If read as a verb, I suddenly become this greedy person fixated on making money to satiate my desires. If read as a noun, the title becomes neutral and I am spared the negative judgement.

For the last few years, I have been in a perpetual state of consciousness when it comes to money. I was going to say a “perpetual state of worry” but I hesitated. Have I really always been worried about money? Has it been a constant drain on my energy? Actually, I don’t think so.

Truth is, given I have been running a household singlehandedly, there’s no denying that budgeting is a core feature of my weekly planning. I don’t have the luxury of falling back on another responsible adult to share the burden of bills. However, Alhamdulillah, it hasn’t always been hand to mouth either. Yes, I have learnt the art of frugality but can still enjoy a few indulgences here and there whether it be an item of clothing, perfume or a short break from the monotony of routine. Although I’d like to credit that to having great foresight and the ability to pre-empt unexpected expenditures, I know that would be slightly disingenuous.

The reality is I have greatly vacillated, throughout these eight years or so, between being financially prudent to throwing caution to the wind and surrendering to my impulsiveness. I I have often tired of being constantly cautious and calculated. Has that overall attitude worked? Well, apparently so. Alhamdulillah, I am still managing to balance the books and have not yet found myself miserably entrapped in financial debt.

I attribute the fact that I am still floating, in financial terms, to a combination of mainly two things.

First and foremost, there is no doubt in my mind that Allah has allowed barakah (blessings) in my money such that it stretches much further than I could ever anticipate. I don’t have much disposable income and though some months can be a struggle, somehow I have pulled through. Alhamdulillah, I have managed to remain self-sufficient without recourse to a third party for a temporary loan and I hope I can sustain this for as long as possible. It gives me great satisfaction knowing I am unfettered by that constant feeling of being obliged to another for their input. This has been nothing short of a miracle given I’ve had to support my sons as well and all their needs. Allah has indeed provided for me, for us.

The second reason I believe I am still standing on my own two feet is that I don’t overthink life any more. I’ve learnt to stand back and let some situations play out on their own simply because I understand I have no control over them anyway. Learning to de-stress and take life in bitesize pieces has allowed me to decompress and relax. Worrying about life in two, five or even ten years down the line is something I can no longer do. Timescales are a thing with which I now have an irreverent relationship. It’s all meaningless because in the blink of an eye, everything can change. So, why worry? As long as the basics are covered, I know I’m doing OK. I have no major material desires left for this duniya (world). That phase of my life, if ever I were going to pursue those things, has long since passed.

The objective of money now is survival. Above and beyond that, I would like to focus on certain experiences such as travelling. For my sons, whatever I have will become theirs anyway. I wish for nothing more and nothing less.

There’s nothing in terms of possessions that I will be taking with me once I leave. An uncomplicated life without any ties to this duniya is a blessing in itself.

***Paying for Experiences rather than Things***

Hubris Miasma

To all absentee parents out there..

How do you do it?

How do you manage to swan off and live your selfish dreams without compunction?

How do you live in material and emotional comfort knowing you have abandoned a past life?

How does your conscience rest easy knowing you took care of yourself without looking into the needs of your children?

…These are just some of the questions that surface to my mind every now and then. It baffles me to know that some people can move on and out without any remorse. More often than not, it’s the men who fall into this abominable category.

I know I could never rest easy if it had been me to walk out on my marriage and children. I would forever be worried about what my children would be doing, thinking and suffering. All the gaps in their lives I would miss and no matter how many phone calls I make, it would never recover the precious lost moments with them. I would inevitably forget the nuances in their behaviour and not know how to read between the lines in conversations simply because I would have lost track of their evolving personalities.

In too many cases, I have seen a shockingly paltry effort made by the absent parent to maintain contact with their children. A phone call once a week will never be tantamount to normal parenting and to chastise the indifference of the children when those phone calls are not responded to, is quite frankly, despicable. The status quo of a previous life can never be expected to remain. It’s unrealistic. And it’s unfair.

I know I was viewed as the obstacle between free-flowing contact between my sons and their father. However, a long time ago, I decided to step back from getting involved. If anything, I do my utmost not to intervene and inshaAllah, I’d like to believe I have been successful. And fair. Yet despite this, I sometimes detect an organic apathy from my sons towards their father. Like it or not, whatever relationship they have now will never equate to having a full-time father in their daily presence. Not that any of us are lamenting this situation. We all see the benefits it has brought too, Alhamdulillah. That being said, had we not been in this situation, we would have not known any better and would have continued happily in the setup we had back then.

But ultimately, some parents choose themselves over their children. That’s not to say that two people should be doomed to eternal unhappiness in a marriage just for the sake of their children. It may be the case that separation will bring relief and happiness all round. However, in my own case, I don’t believe that my children’s father has found a version of long-lasting ‘forever’ happiness. Like so many man before him, the promise of eternal bliss may not have lived upto his expectations. Do I feel sympathy for anyone in that situation? Of course not. That’s because the long-term implications of divorce are deeply entrenched in my life and my sons’. Not that we are imprisoned by the past. However, the impact of that momentous decision will forever haunt us try as we might to deny it.

Divorce is a manifestation of hubris miasma. Unfortunately, moreso of the male hubris miasma. History will repeat itself and lessons will not always be learnt. Humans are not as intelligent as they might delude themselves into thinking.

I continue to try to measure time from a different starting point and not that dark ugly episode in my life. My newest starting point was that epiphanous day standing on Snowdon. That’s when Allah inspired me with hope and excitement about the future. Now I am looking forward to my next definining moment which will catapult me onto even bigger goals, inshaAllah.

***Mount Snowdon: A Harbinger of Change***

Let There Be Dust

I have come to the resolution that I don’t have time to be fussing about all the nooks and crannies around my home that could do with a sprucing up. There are the everyday things that need to be tackled such as vacuuming the rugs or washing dishes or cleaning toilets. None of them are exciting chores but still have to be done. However, beyong these basic things, I have no interest in anything else.

The ‘anything else’ is the label for more laborious tasks which should be crossed off the ‘to do’ list, such as painting doors and replacing the odd tiles in the bathroom. Just thinking of them exhausts me. Many years ago, as a much younger person, I would have readily dealt with these jobs. Without hesitation, I’d have made a conscious start on them without waiting for anyone else to help me. These days though, I don’t have much patience and try to avoid such things. I would much rather be doing something else such as meeting with family/friends or exploring the world outside my door.

Being someone who works during the week, balancing two different but simultaneous jobs, my free time is extemely precious and limited. For this reason, I don’t wish to be booking time off work only to be spending it indoors repairing or upgrading things which are otherwise only ascetically pleasing and do nothing to improve functionality at home. If possible, I’d even prefer to pay someone else to do these jobs for me. However, I know that is not a financially viable option.

Given my heightened consciousness of the limited nature of time, I feel that upgrading features of my home is not the best use of it. It means time spent doing that would obstruct me from other opportunities outside my four walls. If I can stretch the situation that is before me for a few more months or even years, and turn a blind eye to the larger projects that need to be attended to at home, then so be it.

To be honest, being an older person also reduces the incentive immensely. I am not a newlywed who is walking across the threshold of her new home and bringing with her all the vibrant energy and enthusiasm that comes with that label. I have had my time and chances doing all that. Now I am at the other end secretly planning my exit strategy from life itself (not suicide, no, but moreso a plan to extract the best that life can offer me still before my time is up). Climbing ladders being splattered in paint in a narrow corridor with dusty sheets around me is no longer my definition of ambition.

With that said, I will hold out for as long as I can before the items on my ‘to do’ list for the home become an absolute and dire necessity. Only then, will I concede and resolve to take up the bigger projects which can’t be deferred any longer. Right now, I want to do things that feed my soul instead. Staring at a freshly painted wall, however pleasing that end goal might be, is not a hugely inspiring ambition in my life.

***What A Day Off Work Should Look Like***

Death as a Reminder to Live

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

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

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

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

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

A Conspicuously Colourful Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ramadan Reflections

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ramadan Reparations 1445

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My Sister’s Cat

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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