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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.

Backward and Forward

I’m at that stage of life where I find my emotions oscillating between a curious mixture of hopeful excitement for my own sons vis-a-vis quiet acceptance of my own uneventful future. Of course, I know that hope and excitement isn’t the exclusive rights of the younger generation. Those in my age group have every right to claim these things for ourselves too. Being older doesn’t mean that we should resign from life and just never expect to look forward to wonderful moments of expected or unexpected change.

***Making Choices at the Halfway Point***

So, that’s the situation I am in right now. It’s like walking across a bridge over a river and pausing at exactly halfway point. When I look at the side of the river bank where I am heading, I see that I am waiting to immerse myself in the new adventures that my sons are going to be embarking on next… education, jobs and even marriage! When I turn to face the other side from where I started off, I see the closing years of my elderly mother and of a chapter of my life that will end with it. (Not that there is any absolute guarantee that I will outlive her. )That makes me quite sad because even though she claims to be content with her lot, there has always been a bitterness and remorse that she has carried throughout her life. It could have been lived out much more fully. As it is, I stand on that bridge watching both these opposite elements of my life moving independently through time. My loyalties are torn between both.

Where does that leave that part of my life that I can call my own? Well, all these other parts overlap and are intertwined with whatever I have created for myself, be it work or recreation. None of these can exist in perfect isolation. What I always endeavour to do though, is to consciously conclude that it’s all good. Even the challenges bring enlightenment and a cause to reconnect it all to the purpose of being on this Earth in the first place.

For me, looking back is always counterweighted by looking forward. That’s the reason why I can’t be stuck for too long. Even when my mind involuntarily slips back to the past ,I am often abruptly brought back to my present existence and remind myself so many reasons to be grateful. Alhamdulillah, the recalibration is effortless. I do believe it is because of my inherently positive nature and a zest for life that becomes more intense as time on this Earth inevitably decreases as well.

No point crying over spilt milk and definitely no point in allowing opportunities to slip by only to regret it later. I want to celebrate life – both my own and those nearest to me, not least my sons. I don’t want them to remember their own mother with a deep remorse that she was not part of their lives in every sense. InshaAllah, as long as Allah allows, that is not how they will ultimately remember me.

Welcoming in Spring

This winter has perhaps been the longest I have ever experienced. I know I’m not alone in that thought as several others have also mentioned how, for some inexplicable reason, winter has dragged her feet this time round.

During this cold season, I succumbed to sickness, which for me is quite unusual, Alhamdulillah. It’s been a long time since I was confined to my bed completely envervated. On top of that, the cold weather has been extreme and left everyone with little desire to do anything except curl up in bed under a warm blanket and sleep – anything to help get through the cold. If hibernation had been possible, I think I would have happily volunteered to have skipped so many cold days and unbearably long nights these last few months.

The global economoy hasn’t helped lift spirits either. With runaway prices of everyday items in stores continuing to move at breakneck speed, together with the cost of living, it’s all culminated in quite a depressing and sombre time. Then there’s been the ongoing genocide in Palestine which hasn’t abated…

Despite this, seeing tiny blossoms peak through the ground, and similar blossoms on trees in recent days, has worked wonders for my soul. For me, they are potent reminders of Allah’s reassurance that no single situation is permanent. Even the drabness has to succumb to beauty at some point. The two will always be in competition and at different times, one will claim victory over the other. This is the very nature of life itself – full of ups and downs. It has joyous occasions punctuated by sadness and vice versa. It is a perpetual cylce which we will find ourselves in. Right now, with the onset of Spring, I feel I am entering a refreshing phase of a lightened mood and expectant ease. It’s strange because in reality, I know nothing has actually changed in my life. The bills keep increasing, nothing fantastically different has occurred and the daily grind is the same. Yet, just seeing the manifestation of change and re-emergence of life forms in nature, is enough to make me feel buoyant.

I guess I interpret the arrival of new flowers as an opportunity to check in on myself and grant myself permission to take leave of absence from the monotonous routine. The buds and shoots emerging from the ground are evidence of hope in all things. Despite the drudgery all around, beauty can still be found and it can be intense. It dominates all else. I relish the moments I have to get lost in that reverie. It’s necessary. It’s therapeutic. It’s enriching.

It’s amazing what a small group of seemingly insignificant buds can do to cause a whole new feeling of wonderment and excitement to erupt deep within the soul.

No doubt, Spring is a visitor welcome at anyone’s door.

Taking it Slow

Recently, I have been under the weather and have been blighted with a lingering chesty cough since mid-January. I even needed to take a few days off work which is something I don’t usually do. So, this bout of sickness has really taken the wind out of my sails.

Although I was not confined to my bed for the duration of my sick leave from work, I did become somewhat restless indoors after a few days. Being too discombobulated to focus on anything like reading or cooking, I also soon got bored of doing nothing much. I did make good progress with some Spanish language skills but there’s only so much a person can do of one single thing in a single day!

Despite still not being fully recovered, I returned to work this week and managed to survive. It was actually a welcome distraction from home and the monotony. Whilst I did enjoy the peace at home, there is a part of me that doesn’t like a solitary existence for more than a few hours. I need human interaction and to feel a part of the larger world. Going back to work helped me feel useful and normal again. (I wonder how I managed to work from home, years ago, in a setup which was not far removed from solitary confinement!)

The truth is, I find people interesting and I enjoy (most) social interactions. I love to meet people from all walks of life with their myriad of experiences, some of which I can relate to and some of which I have absolutely no knowledge of. But together, it all fascinates me. I also like to challenge stereotypes others might have of me upon meeting me for the first time. I have lived long enough to know there are many people with their many stereotypes. For example, on the first cursory meeting, some think I don’t speak English, I have not experienced higher education and the list of negative imagery goes on… I enjoy being a public representation of Islam and to show others that they probably were far off the mark when making their secret and silent prejudgements of me.

So, whilst I recover from this cough, I cherish the time I have now to also recuperate from the breakneck speed I find myself moving in just to keep my home ticking over. The cough has, strangely enough, allowed me time to pause and appreciate things in slo-mo.

Mi Nueva Aventura

In the quest to keep moving forward and try to squeeze what I can out of life, I have very recently taken on a new challenge. The title of this blog post might provide a huge hint!

My new adventure – learning Spanish.

I never got the opportunity to study a foreign language at school as, together with my family, we had moved abroad and so I missed some of my education in the UK. However, I don’t lament that loss because in moving to Bangladesh as a child, I actually became more proficient in Bengali, the first language of my parents. My mother had already taught us the basics of the language in terms of reading and writing, so that by the time we had moved to Dhaka, I felt learning the language there was a natural continuum. So, to say that I didn’t learn a second language at all is actually specious. I did and I am grateful that I can still communicate in all its forms today.

Now that I have a bit more leisure time on my hands, I feel it is convenient to learn new skills; to make up for some things I didn’t get the chance to do when younger. I don’t believe in fads and would not delve into something if I was not serious. So, I hope my enthusiasm will not fade over time. Learning Spanish is not because of my infatuation with Spain after my Malaga holiday. It is more about asking myself, “Why would I not consider myself to have the capability of learning a completely new skill at this late stage of my life?” I have lived enough of a life believing in “I can’t” rather than acknowledging deep down it was more of a case of “I can if I care enough to try.” Therefore, I am going to try my best to dismantle all the self-destroying barriers I have put before me for too long.

When it comes to learning a new language, I actually believe that being fluent in a second or even third language places someone at an advantage. In my own experience, I notice how I am more adept to making and listening to sounds in other languages that require different pronunciations, tonalities and inflexions than they do in English. Therefore, I listen carefully to the Spanish accent of words and am conscious to avoid an unyielding British English accent which would ruin my mission.I would love to know that in due course, I could land in Spain and confidently hold conversations there which would not need me to resort to Google Translate or a local who is fluent in English. I know a native Spaniard would most likely be humoured by my attempts to speak Spanish but that does not deter me to persevere. I have gone beyond feeling inhibited by other people’s opinions.

So, why have I chosen a language to learn of all things? It stems from a desire to do something different out of my comfort zone and the promise to myself to realise new potential. I may never need to use Spanish more than just going on holiday there. However, I have a passion for life that I haven’t had before. My subconscious mind will always remind me of the finite time ahead. That is definitely a huge impetus. Maybe this new project is also an opportunity to prove to myself that “I can.” It is also a long-term project – not some frivolous hobby born out of boredom.

Although I have mentioned this so many times before, it’s worth saying it again: a post-divorce life has granted me a liberation but not of a decadent kind. I am not searching for meaningless or trivial pursuits which do nothing to enrich me. My new life has offered me unimaginable hope and energy to go and seek new goals and know that if Allah wishes for these dreams to be realised, then there is simply nobody who can hold me back. The only time I wish to make reference to a life that is measured from the moment of my divorce is to acknowledge how infinitely grateful I am for my new circumstances. Alhamdulillah.

No Looking Back

Life can occassionally place you in a position where you may be tempted to return to a previous situation be it a job, relationship or something else. Just last week in my blog, I mentioned about the decision to quit my role as Trustee with a small charity I’d been working for. By pure coincidence, the other day I got word that my departure was something lamented by its director and there may be a possibility I would be invited back.

I am determined not to acquiesce.

Some observors may think this is an unfortunate arrogance on my part. However, I have learnt a valuable lesson from life. Keep moving forward. There is no point trying to dredge something which has long since sunk like a lead balloon, to the surface of the water. Let sleeping dogs lie. This is one of those classic situations where you know you try to convince someone else of a terrible decision but they insist on pursuing a blind, irrational goal anyway. So you back out and wait to see the proverbial hit the fan. And it does. Then, the other party realises too late. It is not my job to clean up the mess in the aftermath. I am not sitting here feeling smug or amused; just disappointed.

However, I also feel vindicated. I simply had to wait patiently and let time reveal the truth. And it has. I know I could not return to the previous setup because my trust has already been broken. I am not in the business of asking others to beg me to reconsider something even if they acknowledge they were in the wrong. I’d rather they take heed and know that in future they should move carefully before making rash decisions.

This kind of scenario echoes what so many women experience when being abruptly told by their husbands that divorce is the only way forward. I know the situation above reminded me of the terrible time I had trying to figure out why divorce was a word uttered to me. I tried to ask for reconciliation although it was never made totally apparent what my failings had actually been. As the fog began to clear, both in my reality and my mind, I resolved that I’d never be given a sensible or complete answer for the decision to divorce. But that experience also taught me to never beg and plead for a second change. I would never seek validation from anyone again.

I believe I have stuck to my guns. I no longer seek approval of people. They can choose to accept me or reject me. It’s fine. It’s liberating. It’s an unfettered life.

Alhamduilillah, I don’t think a day goes by without me expressing my gratitude for the life I have now. I am my own person and I get to call the shots. Even when I think of the potentially wonderful things that come with being married, none of them are enough to entice me to seek another chance at that life again. The freedom I have gained far outweighs anything else.

Time for Change

***Season’s Changes bringing in New Fruits***

Not sure what has come over me but I have been feeling a little restless lately. I need a new project to get involved in – something that will give me a higher purpose other than just going to work and coming home.

A few months ago, my tenure as a Trustee for the charity I was involved in, came to an abrupt end. It was my decision to leave. I could no longer work with a team where real leadership was lacking and where others, who had only arrived on the team, where already pitching their tents and demarcating their sacred territory without room for discussion. Not conducive to good team work. Rather than descend into chaos and divert energies away from the very job the charity was set up to do, I resolved it was better to let others take the reins and run. I am not power hungry. I also have no patience to deal with inflated male egos. I’ve seen my share of how much ruin that scenario can bring…

But where one door closes, another opens and being the philosophical person that I am, I interpret this occurence as Allah guiding me onto something else. No regrets. Move on. I am now standing on the ridge of a hill and looking out at the vista. Whilst taking it all in and marvelling at life, my roving eye is wondering where to fix my stance on next. What will my next mission be in life?

The one thing I do know is that it has to be something out of my comfort zone and in the service of others. This isn’t the same as being used or taken for granted. I intend to protect my own interests (which is why I resigned from the previous charity last year). In an ideal situation, I would love to find paid employment that is in the field of the charitable sector. That would provide the best of both worlds.

I am in a race against time now. However short or long my life is from here, it’s clear that not much time is left. And some people may argue that I am not doing enough to bring about the changes I so desire. Maybe there is some truth in that. But I also know, that as a Muslim, it’s not always about reaching the destination but the journey itself. Making the intention is what counts. That’s the first hurdle I have crossed already, inshaAllah. The next is to try and see that intention materialise into something tangible and real.

Changing Places

Over the last few years, there has been a lot of activity in our household in terms of who has been moving in and out. My sons are now all young adults and university has been the preoccupation for them in recent years. I’ve got four sons who are all at different phases of the university experience. Two have exited, one is almost done and my youngest has just started. It was always inevitable that, as their mother, I’d be helping them settle in their new lives and accommodation and then resettle them back home.

Now, we are in a situation where the older two have returned and the young two are away.

Yesterday, I went to see my youngest son in his new place and who now has an easier commute to university. I am happy for him because it’s something he always wanted to experience – an independent lifestyle – the opportunity to prove to himself that he can take care of all aspects of his life. Time will tell. Maybe because I’m now accustomed to this tradition in our household, I didn’t feel overwhelmed when he left a couple of days ago. I’ve been through the process already – of seeing off my older sons so that. by now, I don’t feel perturbed any more. Of course, as a mother, I will always be concerned about all aspects of their safety but keeping them within my reach is no guarantee of anything. I have to let go.

In many ways, as strange as this may seem, I’m at a stage of my own life where my sons have to let go of me. What do I mean by that? Basically, they now know that my priorities are not always necessarily them. I have gradually learnt to put myself first even if it means they have had to do without my input in something. If they want to claim their stake to adulthood, then it can’t be a selective decision. They will need to learn to not being propped up by mother all the time. So, leaving home is simply a way of fast-tracking that process.

I have watched my sons grow up in recent years, evolving from boys to men. It has been exhausting but rewarding. I need to retire from several of my motherly duties. Now they can at least take care of practical chores which directly concern themselves. Although I have had to do tough love sometimes, I always believed it would pay off. It would have done no favours to anyone to have mollycoddled them and nurtured laziness and selfishness. I like to think I have done some things right. They are far from perfect but then so am I. We are all works in progress.

Right now, I have surrendered my sons to Allah’s plan in terms of what He wants for them in every sphere of their lives. To a large extent, I have no control any more. It’s as almost I have watched these saplings grow into strong steady trees who now tower over me. I don’t mind for that. It’s sometimes comforting to feel like the one being protected rather than being the protector. Role reversal. I need the break. I am tired.

Alhamdulillah, to have gotten this far in their lives and my own. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

***Feeling Protected by my Adult Sons***

Keeping Promises

If there’s anything which I find unattractive in a person, is when they make a promise which they have no real intention of honouring or have not thought through carefully before opening their mouth. One of my mottos in life is to never make a promise I know is very unlikely to be fulfilled.

I prefer to make secret promises to myself more. That way, I have to hold myself accountable and only to me. In recent years, I have told myself to try and reach for goals which may be slightly beyond my reach right now but which I have a realistic chance of making a success of in future.

With that in mind, I resolved that this year would start off with a short holiday with my sons. It’s something we haven’t done together – all of us – since our return from Saudi Arabia in 2016. Alhamdulillah, I fulfilled that wish and have just returned from a break in Malaga, Spain. What we achieved in three days was phenomenal! I feel I was away from home for three weeks! The places we saw, flavours we tasted, experiences we internalised… these are memories which are quite literally priceless!

During that trip, I reflected on the magnamity of Allah Himself. Not only did He make it possible for my dream to come true but within that, I had always had a desire to visit a particular place in Spain with my sons: Caminito del rey. I’d first heard of this place when I was teaching English in Saudi Arabia and it formed a reading comprehension exercise for my students. I was fascinated with it ever since and vowed that one day I would like to see it myself. SubhanAllah, what I didn’t know was that Allah had listened to my prayers all those years ago and helped me realise my dream! And then actually being there (just yesterday in fact), I marvelled at what Allah has created in the natural world. How can anyone deny He exists? All around is the proof of His mastery.

Coming back to my present life, I am determined to create happy montages in the visual recollections of what remains of it. Whilst my health is relatively good, I vow to use it to the best of my ability, insha’Allah. I am so acutely aware that I am not immortal and that I am sliding down a diminishing curve where so many variables in my life have past their peak already. So, if I don’t grab opportunities, or rather, don’t create them, then it will be a pitiable existence. I don’t want the latter part of my life to end miserably with a list of regrets because of bad decisions – or indecisions – I made now.

I understand that the determination to utilise time wisely is not synonymous with going on holidays as and when I want to. I couldn’t afford that lifestyle anyway. However, creating joyous occasions and setting out on new experiences with my sons, whilst they are still geographically close, is something important to me. Perhaps there’s a part of me that wants to compensate for the times when we should have had holidays that were more attuned with our desires and mindsets rather than simply appeasing the patriarchal figure. I know for sure that our Malaga holiday surpassed anything else we have ever done together. That’s because my sons are all adults now, we all understand one another and can accommodate one another’s idiosyncracies or passions.

Insha’Allah, as far as holidays go, I hope there will be more opportunities to escape reality like this. Malaga proved to me, in no uncertain terms, that I am living my best life yet. I am not deprived of happiness and adventure because of my divorce. Rather, I have ascended to a new level of each of those things because of it, Alhamdulillah.

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