Peace for Palestine
The Secret of Anti-Ageing
It is a fact that with age comes all the physical and visible signs of maturity. There’s no escaping them even with the subscriptions to the best vitamin supplements and the best names in make-up. It’s a process which is master over us and is a losing battle.
That being said, it’s not all doom and gloom. Ageing can be done gracefully and gratefully – something which I hope to grow more conscious of over time. Whilst on the exterior, there is no denying that I am no longer in my 20s or even 30s, I try not to let the emerging wrinkles, which will claim their permanent position on my face, take over my life. I want to embrace older age. I want to have that zest for life still. I want to celebrate my longevity.
The problem which I believe many of us women, in particular, have with ageing is that we are sold the lie that to be accepted or worthwhile, we must ‘look good’. There is too much focus on the outside, especially the face and, of course, the body. After all, this is the first point of reference for others. Society makes us feel less worthy if we do not constantly look for ways to reinvent ourselves to remain interesting. After all, this is arguably one of the reasons why so many men replace the older woman/wife in exchange for a fresher model.
Having had this silent rhetoric rammed down our throats our whole lives, there’s no surprise that the beauty industry has harnessed this vulnerability and caters so rigorously to essentially counter the betrayal felt by older women from society. Although I do like to dabble in make-up to help me look my best, I do this not because I have nothing else to be judged by. I would always want encounters with others to shift from their cursory focus on the outside to what lies underneath. I will not be duped by the covert marketing tactics of an insidious beauty industry that makes women constantly feel inadequate. There’s a hidden message in there somewhere which says, ‘your self-worth can only be measured by your outward appearance; that is the first thing to fix before we can look elsewhere.’
Although there is nothing inherently wrong in wanting to look nice superficially, it seems we live in a world where there is an obsessive and unhealthy desire to impress on that front. Just looking at the array of beauty products available now is testimony to that. I don’t recall growing up with so many different products for the face, most of which I wouldn’t even want to try! The attention has moved away from what’s on the inside and that’s a sad reflection of the state of society right now.
This is where I seek to make a conscious effort to demand to be acknowledged for the qualities within. The looks will fade and indeed they have already started to. Not that I have ever considered myself anything special (far from it). But I do know I have always wanted to stimulate my mind and likewise, I find an intellectual and adventurous mind alluring. Meeting people with whom I can hold interesting conversations gives me an energy which is incomparable to just looking at a pretty face. I love to engage with people who are pursuing new goals for themselves, who have a zest for life no matter what obstacles are in their way. That zest is accompanied with a deep gratitude for every minute they have been blessed with. They wouldn’t know what ‘killing time’ means for that pastime in and of itself, is a tragic state to be in. How bored or unambitious must a person be to simply want to ‘kill time’ as if it is something they have been given too much of and need to curtail? It’s a very odd expression.
The absolute antidote to ageing, in my opinion, is to seek new goals which stretch my abilities and to busy myself in them. It gives my life a sense of purpose. Inherent within that, is a sense of gratitude – gratitude for having the drive to want to forge ahead and seek new challenges and acccomplish more than I have already. In doing all this, I have found that this is driven by a need to nurture the soul and so the cycle continues. It’s a win-win situation. When the passion for life is driven by the need to work hard and to accumulate points in the balance of my good deeds, this will inevitably become incongruent with pursuing a shallow and baseless existence.
This disposition feeds into a happy state of mind and that happiness exudes in the way I interact with society. I can testify to that. In a recent blog, I mentioned that I will no longer be a slave to money worries -and I intend to keep my promise, inshaAllah. I want to see the duniya (world) for what it is – a mere stepping stone on the journey to the other side. Whilst I don’t reject partaking in some of the indulgences which I am permitted as a Muslim, I also want to continue trying my best to stay focussed on the real reason why I am even here in the first place.
In essence, I feel I have reached the pinnacle of my existence in terms of my health, happiness and state of my heart, Alhamdulillah. As I grow older and however long I have left, it is inevitable that I might succumb to more serious health concerns alongside other worries. My heart might waver as I struggle with my tests. That’s part and parcel of life. But right now, I don’t think life has ever been this good. That’s because I have a sense of peace within. I have accepted my lot, not in a way that I have begrudgingly given up but rather, knowing that Allah is – and always has been – in control and that He knows what is best for me.
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Like a Water-Lily
In trying to capture how I view life right now and my place in it, it occurred to me that the celebrated water-lily serves as a very good comparison.
Just Googling the meaning of ‘water-lily’ and I immediately can see the analogy to my life. It is a flower that rises out of the muddy waters (my past life) and gently floats on the water’s surface (taking my present existence in my stride). It has round leaves (yes, round is a fair description) and striking flowers (I sometimes succumb to vanity too – lol!).
Water lilies are important to their ecosystems (my family, namely my sons) and help to cover the water’s surface, keeping the water cooler (maintaining a home that is functioning well). They also contain the spread of algae. (Here, I compare this to my protective role as mother, keeping a vigilant eye out for anyone or anything that may attack my sons’ especially in their spiritual and emotional wellbeing.)
“They symbolize beauty, purity, and innocence, as they can rise above the murky waters without blemish. Water lilies represent the transcendence of the material world and purity in spite of the flower’s darker surroundings.” Need I say more?
Interesting analogy I think. I know many other women reading this, would be able to identify with the water-lily in the same way.
I pray that they all continue to blossom and know that they occupy a central place in that pond or lake and stake their claim to glory.
Note: Phrases and descriptions were borrowed from the link below:
https://a-z-animals.com/blog/water-lily-meaning-symbolism-and-proper-occasions/
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Consistency or Adventure?
Some would argue that a predictable life is something to covet as it offers security in that plans can be made well ahead of time. Every stage of life is clearly and neatly mapped out. Part of that predictability is the foresight to include contigency plans for times when things may not go exactly the way we originally intended. Others would claim that this kind of life exudes a boring monotony and is too staid. There are no unforeseen challenges in which an individual can truly realise their untapped and hidden potential.
I fall into the latter group.
True, sudden diversions and roadblocks on the journey through life aren’t to be glamorised. They are more often than not, a great nuisance. However, that’s the initial gut reaction we have whilst going through the stress that such situations create. But once we plough through and come out the other end, we can sometimes look back, reflect and be grateful for the reinvented version of ourselves. For it is these very situations that make us mature, be appreciative and embolden us to face the next unprecedented circumstance with a confidence which was lacking before.
To take an example… A change in financial circumstances where we worry about how the next month’s bills will be paid, is one which many people are familiar with. I am no stranger to that scenario. For the last few years especially, where I have not had a husband to rely on for financial advice or decisions, I have had to learn to be confident in making independently bold choices about running a home myself. That burden has been on my shoulders alone (and still is). However, lately I have convinced myself (quite rightly) that I will no longer be mentally enslaved by money worries. After all, it is ruinous to my mental health and does no favours to my physical wellbeing too. What’s more, given I have managed to support myself and my sons thus far and we are still with a roof over our heads, I think that’s testimony enough that I have been successful in juggling my finances alone, Alhamdulillah. The experience has taught me more about myself – that I can do certain things if I trust my own abilities.
Having been abruptly placed in this new situation since 2016, I have had to learn how to stay afloat or risk sinking altogether. It unleashed within me a zeal to fight and regain control of my life. In the process, the self-discoveries showed me that nobody was worthy of being in possession of my happiness and that what I had gained was far more than what I had lost. I surprised myself and continue to do so. I value my independence too much now.
Even if I had the chance for an eternally predictable life, I would never have chosen to have become a Stepford wife. I don’t envy women who have lives of leisure, squandering both time and money. That existence is worthless. I guess such women would look at me in disdain and pity as I don’t have the ease they may enjoy. What I do have though, is self-respect and a dignity that refuses to accept that my lifestyle is totally dependent on the whims and demands of another human being… because sometimes that’s what a marriage becomes for many women: quietly disgruntled at the disproportionate service of a self-acclaimed superior other person.
I don’t hanker for unnecessary indulgence in material possessions, just enough to allow me some pleasures and ease in life. What is most satisfying is knowing that the comfort Allah has afforded me has been as a result of His generosity only. Part of that is that I have been able to earn the money that has paid for those things and am not indebted to any other human.
Whilst I don’t denounce marriage, I do understand that it isn’t the end game of life either. I threw that fairy tale in the bin not long after my own divorce. Looking back, I have discovered that my initial raw bitterness slowly gave way to acceptance and more recently, an inner celebration. That is no exaggeration. The last few years are analogous to the emergence of a beautiful butterfly from an unsightly caterpillar. I have evolved and come to love the life I have now, Alhamdulillah. As I always say, I am eternally grateful for being able to take care of myself financially and everything else. I’m now at a stage of life where I I can finally be unapologetically selfish and focus on me first. It’s not that I have rescinded the responsibilities that come with motherhood; they will never disappear. But my sons are now independent adults and so the degree to which I have to be involved with their lives has shifted dramatically.
Meanwhile, there is no search for a replacement husband as life would devolve into an uninspiring routine once again. I would rather maintain the status quo I have now and face uneventful days on my own in peace. In between, I can enjoy the company of a select few friends and family whenever I need stimulating company. Once my batteries have been recharged, I can unplug myself from everyone and continue as before till the next time. Marriage doesn’t offer that reprieve and I have no patience for that now.
The only consistency in life I crave now is adventure itself.
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My Mother’s Footsteps
Looking at my elderly, octagenarian mother whose health has seemingly taken a downward turn in recent months, I reflect on many things and many years gone by.
Firstly, I think of the sacrifices she made to come to this country as a fresh-faced, naive yet optimistic young married woman, looking to start out a life in an alien place and as the wife of someone else. In the years that followed, she bore five children alongside the pressures of being a first-generation immigrant. She simultaneously bore the pressures of married life within the home. Enough said there.
Then there was the period of her life after divorce, raising the five of us on her own with no plan, no income and no support. Although she wasn’t one to sit down with us and take the pulse on our emotional wellbeing, I have always been in awe of her audacity to step out of a marriage that was no longer serving her best interests nor the best interests of us, her children. That is a brave thing for any mother to do and not least for a mother of that generation where the taboos surrounding divorce were more egregious.
I never really appreciated that humungous leap of faith that my own mother took all those years ago…
Now, as a woman who has also experienced divorce and spent the last few years raising my own boys, I realise how the sacrifices of a mother can never be repaid – even moreso, as an individual parent. There are times when I have just been too busy to even step back and reflect on what I have achieved on my own until someone else comes along and remarks on the progress my sons and I have made collectively (and individually). I compare that feeling to painting a huge wall. When standing at one corner with brush in hand and focussing on that area, we never think of the entire wall until we reach the end and step back and admire the final result. Standing up close, we become so engrossed in small details that we lost sight of the overall complete project. And so it is that the day to day running of my home are the details and bricks that make up a larger wall. I’d like to think the painting of that wall is more or less complete since I’m getting ready to hand over the task to my sons soon, insha’Allah.
Unlike my own mother, I have always been more determined not to define my life through negative or seemingly sad events. That’s where she and I split roads. I have the strength to stand back and look in on my own life from the outside as an observer. I have been blessed by Allah to not be consumed by anger, fear or sadness, Alhamdulillah. If anything, I’ve always realised that I have been blessed with a precious opportunity to be the master of my own journey. I have been around several very strong Muslim women in the last few years who have inadvertently served as great inspirations just by having the chance to observe their own journey along the path of solo motherhood. We are apparently a growing species.
Although my own mother still measures her life through marriage and divorce, I am grateful even for that. Odd as it may seem, through her own life, she has shown me the pitfalls to avoid. Her rejection of society and feeling abandoned by everyone is a myth she created for herself. Of course, there have been people who have judged and continue to do so. But they are the detritus of society who, together with their aspersions, can be cast aside. Surrounding oneself with those who lift and build us is the only way to remain hopeful and positive. And Alhamdulillah, there are some good examples of such people still to be found.
Whilst my own mother would never be able to fathom my own sense of contentment and (dare I say it?) happiness, I don’t try to make her understand it. I know she is genuinely concerned for me especially given she also knows the reality is that she does not have long left in this duniya (world). No mother wants to depart leaving behind ‘children’ who are not totally settled (according to her definition of the word). No prizes for guessing what that would look like in her eyes.
The truth is, I no longer aspire to be settled and lay foundations anywhere. For years now, I’ve been thinking of my exit and mentally preparing for it. My sons have often spoken of their plans to take care of me especially if I live to a much older age but if I feel I couldn’t reciprocate my own mother as her daughter, then I expect even less of my sons despite their very genuine concerns.
The best I could hope for is that they continue to be decent human beings and earn respect and give respect to those around them. That would be one of the best ways they could ever pay me back.
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Addendum to a Post-Divorce Life
Many years ago, a younger me would never let another person to have had the last say in a dispute, especially when I felt I was unjustly dealt with. I would have dug my heels in and made sure they retreated only after I had been given the chance to explain the details of my version of the truth.
Now, in my later life, I don’t have time to waste. I take comfort knowing that Allah is always aware of my intentions and so I can spare myself a lot of energy and effort in trying to make the other party understand. I now choose to focus on things that really matter. Through it all, I have become a stickler for clear communication especially when receiving or conveying instructions. This is simply to avoid misunderstandings later on. However, there are others who are either inattentive or selective in their interpretation of things no matter how hard I try to explain it to them. Whatever their reason or motive, only Allah knows. But the unfortunate consequence is that such situations sour human relationships.
These days though, I have learnt to choose what battles I want to fight. In the last seven years since divorce, I have learnt invaluable life lessons which have shaped who I am today. I never actually believed my mindset could be refashioned or reconfigured at this late stage of my life but, I guess, until one is jostled by a huge trauma such as I was, there’s no telling what there is yet to learn about the world and moreso, about oneself.
The best part of it all, however, is that I choose to walk away feeling unfettered and liberated. It’s like coming out of a chokehold to breathe normally again. My stance now is to keep moving forward. As much as these type of encounteres or interactions are unpleasant, oddly enough, I’m grateful for the lessons they teach me. Because what emanates from it all are valuable insights into how to pre-empt such situations again and be prepared. It also shows me what I need to hold onto and what I need to let go.
What I have also refined is the ability not to be perturbed for long. I can walk away from situations where misunderstandings have occurred because I know it is not my sole mission in this life to be understood by everyone. Others would argue the same for themselves. And quite justifiably too. But the difference I feel now is that I have the maturity to let things go. Agree to disagree. My silence is not a sign of weakness. It is a sign that I am comfortable with not having to prove myself to anyone any more.
This is, by far, the greatest lesson that divorce taught me: not to fight for the attention of anyone. Except myself. I foolishly expected my husband would stand by my side till my last breath. How wrong could I have been? And if he let me down, then why should I be surprised if anyone else does the same? That’s why I no longer expect anyone to be by my side forever. That is extremely naive and presumptuous. We are all dispensable. Nobody will ever come undone without the presence of another person. We have been created more resilient than that if only we dare to believe it. I have no illusions that in life and in death, there will be many that may rue my absence but only for a short while. Life will continue. I wouldn’t expect it not to anyway.
We come to this world alone and return alone. Everything and everyone else is incidental.
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Consistency is Key
If there is anything I’ve learnt in life, it’s that to do a job well or to master something, we must persist at it. To give up to early, is to never know our full potential.
With all things big or small in my latter life, I strive to give it my best shot. I also know when to say ‘no’ to others as a way of protecting myself especially emotionally and even physically. After all, we know that the two are inextricably linked.
But despite knowing about the need for consistency, as a way to make positive gains over time, I have not been totally true to this principle. I need to work on it more.
So here goes…
Insha’Allah, I will endeavour to being more consistent with my exercise, my time spent reading books, my recitation of Quran and of course, this blog itself.
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Standing Up for Justice
Remaining silent in a time when injustice is endemic around us is not something I think any normal person would tolerate. Right now, in the world there is a lot of injustice prevalent on a global scale, societal scale and individual scale too. Usually, when someone has been directly impacted because of an unjust decision, it makes them extra sensitive to see this kind of behaviour being meted out to others too on any scale. A normal reaction would be to intervene and not allow history to repeat itself.
As I write, Palestine is once again at the forefront of most people’s minds as they switch on the news. It remains the forefront of their minds even when they switch off the news. I no longer need to be bombarded with images, which, despite the plethora of them out there, have not made me feel numb to human wickedness. But seeing the injustice directed to the Palestinians on such an unashamedly grand scale, is simply too painful to watch. On the other hand, it is also not acceptable to pretend it does not affect us. If anything, I don’t wish to see any more disturbing images of horrific crimes simply to give those people dignity even though they don’t know me at all.
As a mother, I cannot be neutral. For one, I share the pain of all the mothers out there who are suffering and struggling just to survivve and live a normal life. I can’t choose to live in ignorance or turn a blind eye. That is not my style. As an Ummah (the collective body of people that follow Islam), if one of us hurts, the rest of us hurt too. With this in mind, I have consciously raised my sons to feel that connection to their brothers and sisters worldwide. The need to be empathetic is even more desperate now in an age where people are so consumed by their individualistic lifestyles and detached happy oblivion. A lot of people could quite easily function from within their four walls, never needing to step out into the real world and make meaningful connections. Life can be controlled on a mobile phone. Or is it that a mobile phone can control life? Sometimes, I wonder who or what is really in control.
To have raised young men who are conscious or their brethren and will strive to come of out their comfort zone to elevate the condition of another human, is something I feel very strongly about. There is nothing worse than a selfish person who is only seeking to better themselves without regard of or respect towards anything or anyone else around them. Inaction is as damaging as direct offensive action and for this reason, apathy will not do. It isn’t always about putting money into a donation box either. Attending a protest, as we did yesterday, was about giving up something of value to us (our time) and making our presence known in the wider world. It’s about recognising the tools within each of us to express our voices and, at the same time, be a representative of the Islamic faith. It is also about being in a constant state of gratitude for what we have compared to those who do not have. This is how we can restore a sense of justice in the world. Connecting to others, even across the miles, and helping to raise their status, is something I believe is a duty as a human. Even the largest oak tree started off as a humble seed. There is no telling how impactful our input can be.
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Two in One
Sometimes, we have those days where things just seem to be a series of strange coincidences or perhaps the working of fate.
This week, (on Thursday to be precise), I had two encounters in one day with people who reminded me of my past life. The first of the two was a brief conversation with my previous manager from work; someone I had not seen in over 25 years. I was well aware that I would see him and get a chance to talk as I was attending a conference where he was a key player in its organisation. It was just so strange to be standing in front of someone after so many years and thinking of all the things I have done in between! And here we were, almost full circle, brought together again because both of us, in our own very different professional journeys, have remained in the charity sector. It was a poignant moment for me as the last 25 years or so of my life flashed before me in my mind…
Then, there was the second encounter of a very different kind: it was not expected at all and with two women who I had never met before yet they transported me back to a period of my life which is now done and dusted. Having left the conference, I was making my way back home and boarded a train. Passing through the carriage, I noticed two women sitting and talking together quite animatedly. What struck me though was that they were in distinct traditional clothes which I recognised and speaking a version of Arabic I know too well. I sat a short distance from them. However, as fate would have it, the train was delayed and passengers were advised to disembark and board the opposite train on the next platform. This time, I sat next to them and a conversation started. As suspected, they were Mauritanian – a mother and daughter duo.
Talking to them and exchanging basic information about each other’s background, I realised how this moment was totally surreal. Though these women I do not know, they represented a connection to my past – when I was married and part of that culture. I spoke to them about my links to Mauritania in the present tense as I will always have some ties to that land through my own children. However, for me personally, my association with anything Mauritanian is well in the past. As much as I have a fondness of some aspects of the land and its people, there is also a significant part of me which is glad to have severed my own direct links to them. I no longer have to deal with the in-laws and am not obliged to appease them any more.
As with all cultures and traditions, there are the less savoury aspects which we would reject in a heartbeat. Mauritanian society is no exception. Sitting opposite these two women abruptly reminded me of what I loved about that place and of what I absolutely despised. All those memories of my married life came flooding back to my mind. But I could say the same of my own cultural heritage. I know I have rejected aspects of it outright and held onto some of the features which fit well with my Muslim identity. I guess we all create our own nuanced version of ‘culture’ and make it fit our personal preferences and individual circumstances.
In summary, the day was a very poignant one because of these two very different meetings from two different chapters of my life. All a bit surreal to be honest. My past coming back to collide with my present when I thought I had sealed parts of it away and lifted the anchor and let the boat sail out to sea…
Apparently not.
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Where Next?
I don’t own my own house. For that reason, I have no real incentive to invest too heavily in it. I am particular about keeping it presentable, clean and tidy but my interest in doing anything more than that is minimal. At this stage of my life too, I no longer derive any real pleasure in designing a room or thinking about the finishing touches to make it look nicer. I enjoyed all that when I had more energy and especially when my kids were younger and we had a normal family life back then.
Now that they are all grown and will soon be looking to embark on their own adventures, our home feels like it’s becoming more of a temporary stop-gap for them and even myself. Once my sons have found jobs and settled somewhere else, my own links to this current abode will become even more tenuous. I know that is the nature of this duniya (world) anyway – never to become too invested in anything or anyone.
As days go by, I fear less and less the idea of letting go. Life has taught me that lesson too well. Everything and everyone we have is on loan anyway. Even our kids. Given that impermanence, I feel I am ready to pack up and move on wherever life takes me.
Some people dismiss my ideas suggesting they are just fanciful ones. However, they forget I have actually lived away from the UK for many years and in quite challenging places. So, the idea of moving again, and this time on my terms, is not something so outlandish. I would relish the opportunity to try and live in a completely new place and preferrably, somewhere abroad where I can immerse myself in a new culture and environment. What’s the point of moving to a place where I would be just pressing, “Play, Repeat”?
In an ideal world, the place I envisage setting up home again would be where I could roll up my sleeves and help others less fortunate and make a living out of it too. That’s because I know I can’t live on air and nice pleasantries alone. I don’t wish to live in poverty as that would be a stupid thing to wish for myself. What I do covet is to be comfortable enough not to worry from year to year about sustaining myself financially. Whilst I have been spared that insecurity for the most part of my life, Alhamdulillah, I feel that being financially secure can’t be the only goal in life either. There’s a danger of becoming spiritually numb.
I try to the best of my abilities to make every task I do, whether at work or at home, tie back to the higher purpose that I have been designated with in this life which is to worship Allah. I must admit, there are times that link is difficult to keep at the core of my consciousness and I muddle along in life forgetting it is more than a continuum of perfunctory tasks to do. This isn’t the kind of life I wish to have descended to and I know my critics would tell me that the panacea to my problems isn’t necessarily to move away. Allah is to be found everywhere and anywhere. True. But I am feel I am ready for a new mission. Something which I can see become a reality.
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