I am mother before anything else.

As human beings, we each have a large number of facets and dimensions to us.These may compete from time to time, wishing to be seen, to be known in a particular circumstance.  There are those we prefer to keep private, those we loathe and wish to change.

And then there are those that we are proud of- that we nurture and develop and refine and are happy for the world to know us by, happy to put on display for all to see.

For me, that facet is mother. I am mother before anything else.

I am mother, because I have been blessed with a home-full of children.

I am mother, because God entrusted me with the single most important job in the world.

I am mother, because my children tell me so, every day, in many different ways: it is in the way they look at me, in the way they kiss me good morning and good night; its in their hugs and their tantrums, its in their unconditional love even when I feel like I'm failing.

I am mother through the good times and the trying times, through the laughter and the tears, through the trials and triumphs.

I am mother when I'm strong and when I'm weak, when I'm feeling competent and when I'm not so competent.

I am mother, mum, mama, mummy, and muuuuuum (when I'm being called to wipe a bottom, or pour a glass of juice, or mend a scraped knee) and a slightly different MUUUUUMMM (when I'm being called to mediate a fight, or dishing out unpopular consequences or when I'm embarrassing them by singing too loud in the car as we approach their school drop-off).

I am mother every minute of every day and every night and will be for the rest of my life. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Alhamdulilah.

That which cannot be named.

Sometimes, its collapsing in a fit of tears.
Sometimes, its darkness at the end of the tunnel.
Sometimes, its inexplicable but very real pain.
Sometimes, its utter despair.
Sometimes, its extended bouts of apathy.
Sometimes, its languishing in low mood.
Sometimes, its desperately wanting to be seen.
Sometimes, its desperately wanting not to be seen.
Sometimes, its complete emotional exhaustion.
And sometimes, its nothing at all.

A poem.

In the garden, a wooden swing hangs from the blossoming Jacaranda-
In the distance, it appears almost faultless- a portrait of childhood perfection
Edge closer though, and the deep, engraved marks
Halt the image, unveiling truer histories- some painful, some triumphant- all
Desperately wanting, desperately craving to be known.

Thinking beyond the here and now

One of the most concerning consequences of living in the moment is that one is not sufficiently equipped to deal with the big trials that will inevitably arrive. When we immerse ourselves in the busy stuff we do on a daily basis, we neglect to think beyond the here and now, to think about that bigger picture. It is only when we consciously and actively think deeply and analytically about those things that we prepare ourselves and in doing so protect our souls from lasting injury.

As parents we must also do this for our children.

I will give you an example from my own life.

I was brought up in a low-conflict home environment. Most of the relationships modelled to me could be best described as functional ones. They were generally positive, healthy and for the most part simple. They made sense, and didn't require much effort to understand. So I spent most of my time focusing on my todays.

During the school week, that consisted of getting to school, getting through the school day, getting home from school, homework, the occasional chore, and taekwondo (or the intermittent other extra-curricular activity). On the weekends, it was Arabic school, Quran school and a family outing.

When I did think about other things, it was my predictable expectations of the future: to finish school, go to university, get married, have 8 children (4 boys and 4 girls) and to live happily ever after. And even that was done so very superficially; there was little thought given to prospect of any obstacle that could cause a deviation from said future, and even less given to the real complexity of each one of those things.

Some might say that this is understandable given my stage of development and lack of life experience. But I believe that I could have been better equipped had I had conversations about these things, real conversations that delved into the spectrum of possibilities, the good and not-so-good. To have been exposed, even in concept, to the complexities of relationships and to the array of tests that one might experience would have served me better than the cotton-wool approach of maintaining my ill-perceived illusions of linear life formulas and happily-ever-afters. I would have preferred to have at least seen the shores of choppy waters than to have only visited the ocean at low tide.

Of course, I know my parents only had the very best of intentions, and did what they thought was in our best interests as children. The only problem was that when I did get to an age where I was more than capable of deep and reflective independent thought, I chose the head-in-the-sand approach and continued in the vain that I had been accustomed to.

So when I encountered those first big tribulations as a young woman, I really struggled to cope. My inability to properly process these challenges and the scarcity of personal resources meant that I was fighting a losing battle, literally. Frustratedly and with admirable determination, I kept trying to resolve these things using the linear formula I had, the only formula I really understood, unable (or perhaps unwilling) to see the inherently flawed and shallow premise it was built upon.

Consequently, it has taken me many years to work through some of the scars I retained from those years, and whilst those scars have faded, they have inevitably left their imprint where no amount of work can completely undo, on my core.

These days, I am far more vigilant and make no apologies in distancing myself from the busy distractions of the everyday, and do spend some time in my own headspace, processing, analysing and reflecting. I also try very hard to have those conversations with my children, conversations that balance their need for hope and optimism with the realities of fallible, imperfect living; I try to resource them with an holistic understanding through consciouseness-raising anecdotes and stories; I try to foster critical thinking through discussing with them a broad range of issues (everything from the environment to the various versions of history) and I try to develop deep reflection through providing opporutnities to engage with diverse communities of people (of all ages, social statuses and backgrounds).

They also have the benefit (?) of having had a very different upbringing to my own. I am humbled, daily, by their strength, insight, maturity and resilience in the face of the adversity they have already had to navigate. So they are already well ahead of the pack, alhamdulilah.

Hadith no. 32

On the authority of Saad bin Malik Al-Khudari, that the messenger of Allah said :


 "There should be neither harming nor reciprocating harm."

                 -a fine hadith related by Ibn Majah, Al-Daraqutni and others

On reflection.

Today I taught them this:

When night falls and they lay their head on their pillow and look back on the day that was, there ought to be something they did that brought them some way closer to their final destination. At least one thing that brought them nearer to The One.

I also reminded them that when they reflect, they should do so carefully, thoroughly and honestly.
They should think about all the encounters they had and whether they brought their best selves into those encounters; were they kind and considerate? Did they listen, show humility and use their manners? Did they leave the other/s feeling good about their exchange?

Because, I explained, our daily reflections should leave us feeling satisfied, comfortable and good. If they don't then that's a sign that we need to make a change, somewhere in our lives. And its very easy to work out where that 'somewhere' is if we have reflected honestly.

The things I've learnt about Motherhood

I've been a mother for 14 years now, a little longer if you count pregnancy time. I am mother to very diverse, unique individuals, girls and boys. Each is special in their own right, each is beautiful, each has different needs and each requires (and has) an exclusive, unmatched relationship with me.

Through my children, I have learned what it means to be a mother. Even with a wonderful mother of my own, I had very little idea and, in retrospect, very unrealistic expectations of motherhood.

I could probably fill a hefty book with all of the observations and life lessons I have learned, but that's for another time. For now, I will share the things that have been most on my mind most recently, in no particular order of course, because I am abysmal at anything that requires order.

Which brings me to my first point:

Leave your perfectionist tendencies at the door.

If you want to remain at least partially sane, you cannot afford to maintain aspirations of perfection. You must embrace 'good'and possibly even 'great' in place of 'perfect', unless of course you are paying your child a compliment, in which case 'perfect' is perfectly suitable. You can only do so much, and as long as you are giving it your best shot, you should be content with the results, however imperfect they may appear to be to your pre-child self.

Love them unconditionally.

No child is better or worse than any other- they are all gifts from God, all good and praiseworthy. No child is more deserving or less deserving of  love, affection and attention- they should all be loved unconditionally. That is not to say that there wont be challenging moments where you want to hit your head against a brick wall in the hopes of inducing a coma. There will be, without a doubt, many testing moments. But that should never affect the love you have for your child, and it should never affect the way you view them. You never stop loving and never stop showing love. It must be the one solid thing they can depend upon, the one true fact of their world.

Your children wont all be mini- you.

Accept your children as they are, however different/quirky/unlike you they may be. Celebrate their differences. Don't be annoyed or disappointed that they don't share your likes and dislikes, or that they haven't bought into your hopes and dreams. They are entitled to their own. How mundane would the world be if it was all same. Its beauty is in the vast array of difference. And your children, your family, is a microcosm of that.

Don't sweat the small stuff.

If you are as highly strung as I am (still trying to change that!), this is hard I know. But again, its so important. I heard it put like this by one social commentator, and its so very true. You need to pick your fights with your children, especially as they get older. Ask yourself- will this matter in 5 years time? If it will, then its probably something to address, but if not, then let. it. go.
The same applies to the littlies. That's not to say that consistency and routine isn't essential (it is), but, don't be on their backs for every little indiscretion. You will crush them. They need to make some mistakes, they need to feed and satisfy their inquisitive minds and they need to have independence fostered in them from an early age. It will make them far more capable, responsible, thoughtful, reflective grown-ups. At least that's what I'm hoping...

Don't shout.

You're only hurting your voice-box. And whilst, initially it may appear to get you results, eventually, they will learn to tune you out completely, to the point where nothing you say or do will be consciously processed and acted upon. If anything, it will make them lose respect for you. Or worse, they will grow up to shout at their own loved ones. Not nice.

Smile. Even when you're cross.

From an Islamic perspective, we know that smiling is an act of charity and there is plenty of reward in it. Its also far more likely to get you the results you want than scowling. Even with your own children. Plus, its likely to put you in a better mood. And that can only be a good thing :)

They don't really care about all the stuff.

They care about the intangible- the time you spend listening to them, the hugs and kisses, the kind words of praise, the opportunities you provide them to succeed at things, the patience you show them when they are learning new things, the encouragement, the advice, the boundaries you put in place to protect and guide them to a good, honourable, safe, and content life. That is what they will remember in 20 years time- the emotional investment you made.

Being a child is hard work! Acknowledge that.

When all is said and done, remember, you were a child once. We might, in our adult folly, idealise what that was, but it is unfair to say it was always easy. Its not. So acknowledge that. Let them know that you understand (even if they don't believe you). Empathise. And when all else fails, be a child yourself once in a while. There is no shame in going on the swing (I do it all the time).

And last but not least...

You are human. You won't always get it right.

And that's okay. So is saying sorry. They don't want perfection, just like they don't want you to expect it from them. They only want the real deal. If you mess up, own up. If you make a mistake, apologise. Its never too late to change, and its never too late to apologise (despite what One Republic will have you believe!). 

  

My apologies for being MIA.

Sometimes, I just can't share my thoughts or the goings-on in my life... sad but true I'm afraid. Which is not so good. Because then when I can share, I feel I have lost momentum, so I don't bother.

Anyways, here's a little something I do want to share. Because I love it. And I love to share the things I love.

A nasheed by a very talented nasheed artist.

I am moved every time I listen to it. I do recommend you buy the album. Its all so good.

Advice on the wall.

Saw this on a wall sticker today, had to share it.

Life is too short

Grudges are a waste of perfect happiness
Laugh when you can
Apologise when you should
And let go of what you can’t change
Love deeply and forgive quickly
Take chances! Give everything you have!
Have no regrets…life’s too short to be unhappy
You have to take good with the bad
Smile when you’re sad
Love what you got… and
Always remember what you had.
Always forgive. Never forget.
Learn from your mistakes,

But never regret.

Fact.

It is a fact of life that some people will feature more profoundly in your life's tapestry than you will in theirs. And vice versa. All you can do is try to ensure that the mark you make, irrespective of its profundity, is a beautiful one.

Nails

Dear children,

There was a story that my mum told me once, when I was a child, and it has stayed with me ever since. I would like to share it with you.

It went something like this.

Many years ago, there lived a little boy. A beautiful little boy, but this boy had one vice. He would easily lose his temper, and when he did, he would lash out and say hurtful things to the people that he loved. His mother became concerned about his behaviour, and so she came up with a plan.

The next time the boy lost his temper, she calmly handed him a hammer and nail, and asked him to go and hammer it into the back fence. The boy looked puzzled, but he did as he was told.

For the few weeks, every time the boy lost his temper, she would give him another nail, and every time, he would go to the fence and hammer it in.

As the weeks passed, the boy grew tired of this task, and consequently, he tried very hard to manage his anger to avoid having to hammer another nail. Increasingly, his behaviour improved, and more and more, he was able to control his anger. This made his mother very happy, and she would praise his reactions.

Then one day, she took him by the hand to the fence. Together, they removed all of the nails, one at a time. The bare fence now looked quite damaged, and still retained the holes from where the nails had been.

"I am very proud of you my son, for learning to control your anger. Because, every time you become angry, you hurt people, just like these nails did to the fence. And even when its all over, the hurt can cause irreparable damage."

The boy's eyes welled up; he now understood. He hugged his mother, and asked for her forgiveness.

xx

5 more values espoused by Islam.

1. Smile. Its an act of charity. Smile. Its contagious. Smile. It will inevitably affect your mood and that of those who behold you. :)

2. God is Beautiful and He loves beauty. So be beautiful. Foster those qualities that will beautify you; when you are beautiful on the inside, you will also exude outward beauty.

3. Remember your manners. The Prophet (pbuh) said: "The most beloved of Allah's servants to Allah are those with the best manners." So, get that chip off your shoulder and remember please, thank you, your welcome and the rest.

4. Give, give then give some more. And do so for no other reason than to seek the pleasure of God. Do so discreetly, and without any expectations. The Quran emphasises charity 150 times. And it is one of the 5 pillars of Islam. So its importance cannot be overstated.

5. Always be just in your dealings, even if it is to your detriment. It will not go unnoticed or unrewarded where it matters most, with God.

My baby is growing up!

My baby turned two today.

Two years ago today, we welcomed his beautiful soul into our family, by the Grace and Blessing of God. I still remember that first deep exchange we shared, at our private meeting in the hospital mother's room; his head carefully resting in my palms, his swaddled body cushioned in my lap. He still smelled of the womb. I officially introduced myself to him, and whispered prayers as I beheld his angelic face in awe and elation. He looked back, earnestly, his eyes wise despite their infancy, his face radiating an ethereal beauty, enchanting and sublime. I knew I would love and protect him forever. 

Today, Jacob is still enchanting and sublime. His nature is gentle and kind. He is soft and affectionate, he loves everyone and everything, and happily shares his hugs and kisses abundantly. He is clever, sociable and loves story time. His favourite pastime is doing puzzles, going up and down (on the swing) and the swiiiiiiiiide. He also adores Barn-ee and the Giggles (Barney and the Wiggles). But best of all, he loves to sing.

We didn't celebrate his birthday with a party or with presents, but this evening, we did take him to Tayta and Gedo's house (to his grandparents) for an impromptu visit. Unbeknownst to us, they had organised a cake and two candles for him. We gathered around, and sang him happy birthday. I can honestly say I have never seen a child get so excited at being sung to; his eyes lit up, his smile filled the room, and he squealed with delight, imploring his daddy to come closer as his little arms held me tight. I will never forget that moment for the rest of my life, the joy he expressed was immeasurable. Just beautiful. 

Happy birthday my dear little boy. You are so very very loved.  May you be blessed with a 100 more birthdays and may all of your days be filled with the joy that you felt today, and the joy that you bring us every day, ameen.

People are beautiful.

The unfortunate life of an habitual liar.

To whom it may concern,

I am dedicating this piece to those who lie. Not the occasional white lie to pacify a restless child (which IMHO is still ethically questionable but you could probably just about get away with) but the other type of lying. The lying that you were warned, as a child, never to do. The lying that, if you were raised with even the remote hint of moral guidance, would have been vehemently frowned upon. The lying that should have got you in trouble with your parents, and peeved your family and friends. The lying that starts off appearing relatively benign, but leads to more and more lying, until it redefines your perception of truth, until the line between reality and fantasy is so blurred that your whole life becomes one big fairy-tale (or one big nightmare, depending on where you're standing).

Growing up, my sisters and I were taught to be honest to a fault. We always knew that if we tried to even bend the truth in the slightest, chances were the consequences would be significantly worse than if we came clean. Our parents didn't tolerate dishonesty in any shape or form. So honesty was drummed into us from a very early age, thank God. But to be perfectly honest, I believe children are born with a pronounced moral compass, and rarely need much conditioning to make those ethical choices. In fact, I would argue the opposite to be true: that it is our unhealthy conditioning of them that dulls their inherent moral compass, either through modelling inappropriate behaviour, or ignoring the bad behaviour when they slip up. As parents, we need to be ever-vigilant with the choices that we make, especially when we are in their company, and we must take our responsibility of being their guides/reminders/advisers very seriously and be consistent in our messages.

So with that in mind, I have always struggled with liars. I find it very hard to understand them. When I encounter a habitual liar, I often get angry, then frustrated, then I just end up feeling very sorry for them. Because I can only imagine the unfortunate condition of their soul. For all intents and purposes, they may appear okay, but I firmly believe that deep down, they are rotting. Their soul is suffering and that suffering will manifest in a sick body and mind. And that can't be easy to live with.

It doesn't matter what justifications they might use with themselves, their soul knows the truth and it can't possibly be content. And to live in an indefinite state of discontent must not only be exhausting but so very destructive. Divine justice aside (and if you believe in God, you will be well aware of the dire consequences for lying), those finite, worldly consequences must be bad enough.

So my humble advice to those that are in the habit of lying, you can stop. Make a conscious decision to be honest, not just with others but with yourselves. Re-tune that moral compass of yours and make amends to your soul. And don't forget to ask God for forgiveness. Its not too late. You have until your last breath to do that.

I pray that you find your way, that your arrogance is swiftly replaced with humility and that you can walk the beautiful path of honesty and righteousness. May God have mercy on your soul. Ameen.

Yours humbly,

Rafa.

A poem I wrote for a friend

What’s the worst thing that can happen?
That he leaves you for another, citing irreconcilable differences he

chose to scrutinise and publicise, leaving you ostracised.

Or he secretly takes another, justifying his activity as a reflection of his

Increased moral objectivity and spiritual connectivity

Yet his prayers aren’t even a priority and he skips through
The Quranic recitations on his iPod playlist to ‘hot in the city’.

What’s the worst thing that can happen?
That he stops finding you interesting, the intrigue and awe
Dulled by too much familiarity, by too much predictability
Because he doesn’t value the comfort of knowing, it just doesn’t get him going
To hear the same old same old: he needs excitement to keep him blowing
You passionate kisses and longing gazes…

Or he might notice the changes in your body, as you carry his son
To term and endure the pangs of growing into mother, with all her
Visible marks carved into her skin, the thin white lines bearing witness
To the vines of wisdom and love and transcendent priorities
But all he sees are the scars and marks that he didn’t sign up for,
Limited by his skin deep myopia.

If the worst does happen, then surely you don’t need
To heed his double standard creed or feed his outrageous greed
For a lifetime’s unconditional commitment- indeed
God Himself does not command that you tolerate such an unjust breed

But

Meanwhile, my sister, don’t dwell in worst case narratives
In the wearing world of constant comparatives and
Free yourself of these destructive thoughts,
That have brought about nothing but worry and warts

And know this:
no man or woman is wronged and it goes un-noted
By the One, the All-Knowing, All-Seeing.
So be free, my sister. Live with hope. Love without fear
Nothing is lost and all is gained where it counts most my dear.

Advice to my children #2

Dear children,

If I was to insist on you fostering and embedding just one attribute in your character, it would be forgiveness.

As much as I am loathe to say it, there will be times when people, even those you love and trust, will hurt you, knowingly or otherwise. And sometimes, the pain of that hurt will be so pronounced and its impact so enduring that it will cast its shadow on your heart, inviting hardness and excluding your softer inclinations. The hurt, if left untreated may induce anger, and anger is a volatile, dangerous emotion. The prophet (s) warned us about its dangers, in his hadith recorded by Al-Bukhari:

On the authority of Abu Huraira (may Allah be pleased with him): A man came to the Prophet (peace and blessing of Allah be upon him) and said, “Advise me.” He [the Prophet (peace be upon him)] said, “Do not become angry.” The man repeated [his request] several times and he [the Prophet (peace be upon him)] said, “Do not become angry.”

You know this hadith and recite it regularly, so please heed its message.

Anger gives rise to the desire for revenge, which is not to be confused with retribution. Revenge is a vile, soul-consuming disease; it is the antithesis of forgiveness. Retribution, or more specifically divine retribution, is God-sanctioned and delivered justice. It is perfect justice, something which no man or woman could match. So, should you really want to exact retribution, I urge you only to ever pray for that, but if you can find it in your heart to do so, forgive them and pray that God forgives them and guides them and shows them mercy.

Forgiveness will not make you less of a person, it does not make you a fool, and it does not take away from the fact you've been wronged. On the contrary, it will make you a bigger person, kinder, more humble and much more likeable. Remember, nothing is lost with God, the All-knowing, All-seeing, and that's all that really matters.

Love,
Mum

Sweet Slumber

Here is a little lullaby I wrote for my children many years ago (when my girls were wee ones). I say wrote, but I actually just made it up as I went along, and scribbled it down so it wouldn't escape through the holes of my sieve-like brain. It's become our very own family lullaby, and is still enjoyed as much today as it was all those years ago.

May your slumber be sweet
Your rest be complete
With every heartbeat
My sweet precious girl/s*

May you dream of sunrise
And soothing lullabies
A world of blue skies
My sweet precious girls

Sleep now my dear/s
For morning is here
And I'll be right here
My sweet precious girls

Just close your eyes
And I'll whisper goodnight
What a beautiful sight
My sweet precious girls.


*Girls can be swapped for boys!

The truth? You can't handle the truth!

Girls, I'd like to take you back a few years to those very awkward Personal Development classes in high school. Much was discussed about the developing body, physical relationships, reproduction and even sexual health. Most of it was intriguing, some of it completely unnecessary (certainly at 13 years of age- won't go into detail here!) and for the most part it was just a whole lot of abstract knowledge that wouldn't need to be accessed for a long time to come. But it was still knowledge. Which for the most part, was better than none.

And that was it really. That was the extent of our official education on the issues pertaining to the female body. Apart from a single picture of a grown woman's anatomy (marked by fully developed breasts and broader child-bearing-ready hips), there was no real mention of the range of impacts reproduction would (or could) actually have.

Fast forward a decade or so, and here you are, 6 weeks pregnant and sick as a parrot. Or not. You immediately look bloated, like you've eaten something that doesn't agree with you all that well. Or not. By 10 weeks your bra size has more than doubled, you are quickly gaining weight on your hips, thighs and butt. Or not. 18 weeks and your bump is well and truly out there; you've moved another bra size, you're into maternity pants, and even your wedding ring is starting to get uncomfortable. Or not. 24 weeks- oh no! Could it be that those little purple lines are not veins but tears of the dermis, nasty nasty scars also known as STRETCHMARKS! Argh!!! Or  not. By 30 weeks, your tummy feels stretched to capacity, and your previous 'innie' navel is now (and possibly forevermore) an 'outie', and at some angles, you look almost as pregnant from behind as you do from the front.

As your due date approaches you resign yourself to your current state of' unfit: you can't even see your lower half anymore without the aid of a mirror, your closed shoes have long been put into storage, your swollen feet preferring (dare I say it *gasp*) t-h-o-n-g-s, and you struggle to even sit upright never mind lie comfortably. Or not. Whatever your specific case may be, my guess is its closer to the former of the dual statements than the latter.

Regardless, hope is not lost. Once you birth this baby, your body will quickly bounce back to its glorious pre-pregnancy self! A little bit of exercise, healthy food choices and you'll be back in those jeans in no time. 

Or so you think.

Well, your PD teacher never mentioned a third anatomy. There was no post-baby woman.

But the baby arrives (after what you could only call a near-death experience- some may put a more positive spin on it, but ultimately, its best to call a spade a spade). After some time, you get up and waddle (or crawl) into the shower, you look down and ...deep intake of breath... Where your baby bump once was is a slightly but not completely deflated sack of traumatised skin. And those thighs that had been hidden are, to put it bluntly, gi-normous!

No, it wasn't a very unkind nightmare. And no, its not all hunky-dory the next day. Days, weeks and even months pass before your body even begins to resemble your pre-pregnancy self. And not even your exact self, but a slightly modified version of you. And the modifications will be quite individual, granted. But they will be there nonetheless. Modifications you had never been told about, you'd never planned for, anticipated or invited. They appeared without your permission and in most cases, usurp your body much to your discontent.

Which brings me back to my opening point. Many of us, many of our girls, have had no real preparation for this inevitable process. They have not had the discussions, they have not been eased into the realities of these (in some cases life-altering) changes. They have had no preparation whatsoever, and consequently, end up getting a nasty shock which can and often does manifest in a variety of ways.

That's not to say there is anything wrong with these changes. On the contrary, they are completely natural and a part of our God-given role as mother. But that shouldn't equate to simply expecting to accept them after the fact. I do believe that when armed with this prior knowledge, our girls will be far more able to process the changes and ultimately be at peace with their bodies. Which can only be a good thing.

It may sound naive, it may even sound vain, but given the uber-body conscious society in which we live, I don't think its too much to ask. So, methinks its back to the drawing board for the PDHPE high school syllabus writers. And until then, mothers, please talk to your girls/sisters/girlfriends. Or talk to me :)

His Rafa

Listening to this evokes a very real physical reaction and swiftly takes me back to a dark place that I have long since arrested under lock and key. Its hard to believe that almost a decade on, I can still have such an intensely vivid sensory response simply by hearing a tune from that time.


The special Ones- George.


Isn't it funny how you never really screamed at my face,

but your anger so unspoken and unchannelled
permeates my essence to the point where I
Don't want to see you hear you, be anywhere near you,
you probably think I'm threatened by you
but your illusionary power doesn't threaten me

Actually I think it's kind of funny that you create an illusion that is a mirror,
I don't appreciate you and I know that that surprises you
I suppose you see that those who follow their heart always win,
those with integrity have won the match before it's begun


So rather than being kicked around, I'm going to kick you to the curb
So rather than being pushed around, I'm going to push you away first
So rather than trying to protect you, I'm going to cover my bases first
So rather than trying to open my heart, I'm going to lock it with a key
So that only the special ones, so that only the special ones, can ever get through to me


Some can see beyond the barrier of threshold
whereas others can't see beyond their sculptured mould,
you could offer me nothing, you could offer me nothing that I need
Do you think I'm asking too much?
A kind of respect and trust that shouldn't even be questioned,
how can I open my heart with dishonesty sitting next to me?


I've honoured your honour to the point of embarrassment,
but innocence in the hands of the guilt-free is kicked to, is kicked to the curb
I was ashamed of my innocence,
I was ashamed of my innocence
but now with clarity I see that your bullshit is just not worthy of me

I don't want to be angry
This is not worthy of me and now with clarity I see
that I can walk away, I can walk away...

I can't but I will!

This weekend past, my girls and I went along to the Sydney Craft and Quilt Fair. I came away from it feeling inept, incapable and acutely aware of what I cannot do.

I can't tat
I can't knit
I can't crochet
I can't sew
I can't embroider
I can't quilt
I can't bead
I can't paint
I can't really draw
I'm not even all that good at scrapbooking.

On the plus side, I also came away very very inspired. Consequently, I have since signed up to crochet classes, a painting workshop and I'm even contemplating sewing classes for next term.

Now to find the time to do all that.

Its really hard to write when the house is abuzz with busy children (which it often is) but I needed to get this down before it escaped into the stratosphere as most of my thoughts often do before making it to record.

What I want to say is this. It is most liberating to do things with no want or anticipation or expectation of acknowledgement or praise or reward. It actually is liberating.

That is all.

Remember.

Faith isn't turning towards east nor west. Faith is believing in God, the Last Day, the Angels, the Scriptures, and the Prophets. Faith is conquering your greed and giving generously to relatives, orphans, travellers, and those in need. It's freeing slaves, establishing prayers, giving in charity, fulfilling your promises, and being patient in danger, hardship and adversity. Such people affirm the truth and are truly pious.
                                                                                                         - Quran 2: 177

Advice to my children...

Dear children,

Not everyone in this world is going to like you. In fact some people will vehemently dislike you, sometimes for no apparent reason and with no explanation. Others may dislike you because they disagree with your opinions or have starkly divergent worldviews, or simply because they find your laugh to be the most annoying sound in the world. Or it could be that you were more successful than them in some way or another, or you stood up for yourself when they thought you'd been crushed into compliance.

Whatever the case may be, you need to know that the world is not a perfect place and there are plenty of mean/unfair/unjust/cruel/nasty people in it. Its just the way it is, I'm afraid.

The important thing is, you don't let this affect who you are. You should still be kind to everyone, even those who are less than kind to you. Be fair and just in your dealings with everyone, even when they have tried to cheat you. Do not let envy into your heart, even for a moment, because it will consume you, casting its shadow on your soul. When someone hurts you, forgive them, pray for them,  but keep your distance from them, not out of hate or resentment, but to protect yourself from further hurt. Always stand firm against their attempts of oppression, have the courage of your convictions, and fervently seek to expose the truth.

If you feel that someone is bullying you, stifling you, coercing you to change the things you hold dear, hold up a mirror so that they might see the ugliness of their behaviour. Never respond with anything less than goodness. But if they refuse to see the error of their way, then tell someone, find support. Then leave.  Leave and don't look back. Leave and ask God to give you the strength to grow from that trial, to keep your heart soft, and to protect you from their grasp.

Do not allow these things to affect the lens with which you view the world. For every mean man, there are many kind men. For every unfair or unjust man, there are many many men who uphold and promote fairness and have made it their life's work to fight for justice. For every cruel and nasty man, there are countless good, gentle men. Those whose spirits align with the fitra in which they were summoned to this earthly world. Take comfort in that.

Take comfort and never stop hoping.

Love,
Mum.

Fast and you will find.

Fasting, when you don't need to, just for God's sake, is... truly uplifting... it eases any burdens you may have.. lightens the chest.. and transports the mind to a calmer,  spiritual realm.

It is purifying. humbling. grounding. mellowing.

Its almost like a detox for the soul, only better.

I advise you all to try it.
  .

Give a child a future

There are some things all good, sane people agree on: ALL children should be protected and afforded basic human rights. Irrespective of your religious, ideological or political views, there seems to be at least consensus about that, if nothing else.

I know that Islam certainly holds the care of a child and especially that of an orphan as a high-ranking priority and one that will be rewarded most abundantly. It is mentioned in the Quran and Hadith countless times and there are many accounts of esteemed Muslims who have made great endeavours in this regard, both past and present.

So given that we have this consensus and we all agree that there is great satisfaction and possible reward in it, why are there still so many children that are unprotected? Why are there so many who are starving and homeless with no access to education? Why are there still children who are forced to work in barbaric conditions with no prospect of any change?

The answer has to surely be that we as able people do not afford such issues enough importance. We are able to push those concerns aside, assigning them to the 'too-hard-basket' and just busy ourselves with the here and now. Or we assume that it will cost too much to make any meaningful change.

Well, I will let you in on a little secret. It actually doesn't cost that much at all. And will cost even less if every person accepted some responsibility for these forgotten innocents. Even a small donation can be the difference between life and death for a child in a developing or war-torn country.

So, how about it? Why don't you make a difference to the life of a child today? A simple google search will give you myriad of pathways to choose from. But I'm going to put in a plug for one particular pathway that I truly value, one which I have seen the fruits of in a very moving presentation some time ago now.

Mahboba's Promise it is called. It is a wonderful Australian non-profit voluntary organisation dedicated to the women and children of Afghanistan. It is all about improving the lives of these vulnerable people and equipping them with the skills and resources necessary for them to rebuild their lives. And you can even sponsor an orphan, ensuring they are fed, clothed, sheltered, educated and receive the medical care they need. 

Go on then...

A distraction by any other name...

I know I've said this before, probably on more than one occasion, but I don't think it can be overstated. In fact I think a daily reminder about this would not go astray.

So what am I harping on about you ask?  Distractions. The sheer abundance of them, their dark, insidious nature and their detrimental and often dire consequences to one's spiritual and emotional wellbeing.

And whilst I'm no more immune to them than the next person, I guess I am fortunate enough to recognise them for what they really are: I have pulled away the proverbial wool from my eyes and in doing so I have caught these artful prancers in their underwear, fully exposing their true nature. The most lucrative industries are built solely upon them and on the certainty that we will happily and obliviously consume/by into them.

Try this: think about all the things you have done today that were really necessary. Think about the things you have done that have actually made a difference either in your life or in the life of someone else. Think about the things that have benefited your mind, developed and nurtured you in some meaningful way.

Now think about all the things you have done that have been quite redundant or unnecessary. Things that have not added anything to your life or the life of someone else. Think about the things you have watched, heard, done, consumed, that have not benefited your mind or developed or nurtured you in any meaningful way.

Chances are, the second list will outweigh the first. Whether it be breakfast radio, window shopping or listening to the top 40 countdown, you won't have really gained very much but you will have lost a lot of precious irretrievable time that could have been better spent bettering your life or the life of someone else.

And it never ceases to amaze me just how over-saturated the distractions market has become. It is almost impossible to avoid it no matter how hard we try. It feeds on our weaknesses and vulnerabilities, and grows from our inability to resist the temptation of the easy way. Because, let's face it, it is easier to veg out in front of a TV screen than it is to read a book about God. Its more fun listening to music than it is to be volunteering at a homeless shelter. And Lord knows its far less stressful having the children play computer games than it is to teach them good manners.

So you'll forgive me when I admit that I am guilty of falling into the traps of distractions. But I do resent them and curse their very existence almost daily. I do actively try to limit my consumption but its doubly hard to limit that of my children, especially as they get older and are increasingly influenced by their peers and the external environment.

Nevertheless, I will continue my plight. And pray that this little post will have somehow helped illuminate someone else's perceptions on the matter.

Wisdom from a page...

"...when each day is the same as the next, its because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises".

From Paulo Coelho's The Alchemist.

My house is untidy. It was tidy yesterday, and will be probably be tidy again some time tomorrow.

?

Sometimes we have to accept that we may never have the answers. We may never understand. 

That's okay.

Closure need not come from resolution. It can come from acceptance. It can come from the passage of time. And in cases where its relevant, it can come from forgiveness.

What you can't do is dwell upon things. Yes, reflection is necessary, but it can become counter-productive if you don't move beyond it. I have witnessed otherwise sensible, intelligent people become obsessively analytical to a point where it has permeated and consumed every aspect of their existence, leaving them mentally compromised and emotionally exhausted (and exhausting).  

I speak from experience.

A great man, may God have mercy on his soul.

My paternal grandfather died four years ago this month. His name was Zuheir. He was and still is the greatest man I know.

It was through his example that I saw the true meaning of 'rajul'. There is no real English equivalent to this Arabic word- man with all that word should connote. He was strong but not aggressive, brave but not foolhardy, proud but not arrogant, humble but not passive, protective but not controlling, charitable but always discreet, responsible, smart, generous, kind, funny and very very compassionate.

And he knew how to love. Without limit, agenda or expectation. With his heart and soul and everything in between. His love for my grandmother was the most moving love story of my time. To try and recount the ways in which he demonstrated these qualities would fill books and would surely still fall short of doing him justice. Suffice to say, he has earned my admiration and the adoration of all who knew him tenfold. There are still things we learn of him and from him today.

My grandfather was a noble man. He lived and died that way. Even in his final months when he was plagued with dementia, his eyes were soft and gentle, his hand ever ready to hold and be held.

I am very proud to have been his granddaughter, somehow, however small, a part of him. I do aspire to be more like him every day. I miss him every day.

You will never be forgotten Jeddo. Until we meet again...

Dare to Dream

Last night I felt old. I felt anonymous and inconspicuous and completely underwhelming. I was in the company of some 150 of Sydney's most driven and accomplished Muslim youth representing all of the major local universities. 'Dare to Dream' it was called. A night of celebration and inspiration.

Strive for excellence was the organisers' team line. And it didn't come from a venerated religious elder, or a wise middle-aged mover and shaker. It came from a modest young man barely into his 20's but with the wisdom and foresight to be making a difference not just in his own life but in the lives of many in his community. He conveyed a passionate message, and his sincerity rendered it contagious.

He was not alone. Many people had the opportunity to speak (including me, and I was a babbling idiot. But I digress). In their words I saw wisdom, hope and unparalleled humility.

These were young people from all walks of life who were daring not just to dream but to turn those dreams into their realities. What left me with the greatest sense of elation and hope though was that these were the people that would be the mentors for our children. Young and similar enough to be accessible to them and old and accomplished enough to inspire them into believing that the world is truly their oyster, if they so wish it to be. That being Muslim did not have to be an impediment to their success: that its okay to be proud of who they are and that their contribution matters.

The future is indeed bright... alhamdulilah.

A bit of this and that

Just stopping in to say hi!

I've not had much to share of late. All the recent happenings in my life (and mind) are to a large extent unshareable (is that a word??)... Ironically, its been a very eventful couple of weeks!!!

My visits to the gym are becoming increasingly regular, which actually means I've had more time to think, reflect, analyse, nitpick, deconstruct and reconstruct. Which has its pros and cons (arguably more cons than pros!).
I also try to use that time to remember the Creator, because I would hate to be wasting time and I don't cope well with guilt.

Speaking of guilt, one thought that I did dwell upon for some time was the permissibility (or impermissibility) of music. As I marched to the beat of a foreign song played through my hand-me-down ipod, to the mantra of 'subhanallah walhamdulilah walaillaha illallah', I pondered the question of the permissibility of listening this music- the lyrics were in French and Algerian Arabic- both of which I don't understand- and the music largely synthesised (mostly percussion). So does this make it acceptable, that I am using it to praise God? I don't actually know the answer, but would be interested to find out.

In other news, my eldest son and third born child Danny is turning 11 this week. It never ceases to amaze me just how quickly my children are growing up. He isn't far off my height, and has already surpassed me in strength, hand and shoe size. He is a wonderful human being, with a heart of gold and so much love to give.
He is smart, capable, kind, generous, caring and handsome. And I am very blessed to have been chosen as his mother.

So we will eat cake and I will try not to have flashbacks to his eventful birth!

A hadith about Heart

"Truly, what is lawful is evident, and what is unlawful is evident, and in between the two are matters which are doubtful which many people do not know. He who guards against doubtful things keeps his religion and honour blameless, and he who indulges in doubtful things indulges in fact in unlawful things, just as a shepherd who pastures his flock round a preserve will soon pasture them in it. Beware, every king has a preserve, and the things Allah has declared unlawful are His preserves. Beware, in the body there is a flesh; if it is sound, the whole body is sound, and if it is corrupt, the whole body is corrupt, and behold, it is the heart."

-Al-Bukhari and Muslim

A secret worth knowing

This time last week, I was in Perth, Western Australia.

This time last week, I was driving our rental car towards Secret Harbour, a place my husband had painstakingly attempted to paint a picture of with his beautifully descriptive language, but had ultimately sold short. It was not until I had seen it for myself that the desired, lasting impact was made...

And it wasn't just the endless, untainted, vividly blue coastline before me, or the lulling sound of the waves in the otherwise perfectly serene studio that surrounds... it was the promise of the very real possibility that we could one day wake up to this every morning for the rest of our lives.

Painful blisters.

I've got a cold sore. I only get them when I think too much or fret too much or let myself down in the 'taking care of myself' department.

Perhaps its because I've started going to the gym again, after a decade hiatus, and its so tediously boring that I end up thinking about stuff. Or maybe its because recently I've been in the company of those I can think out loud to (to some degree), initiating a spiral effect of self-inflicted-mind-abuse. Or maybe, its just that time of the month, if there really is such a thing.

Whatever the case may be, my body is responding with 'please stop or I will revolt with the revolting'. So I should perhaps listen.

I'm not helped by friends that phone with thought-provoking inquiries (as much as I do appreciate them!)

A couple of days ago, I received one such call.

A group of my friends were discussing the issue of couples sharing/knowing one another's passwords. Some found this acceptable, others not, and I was asked to weigh in on the discussion, being the married woman that I am. What was my opinion on this?

Well, what IS my opinion? Hmmm...

My answer to my friend was quite brief: it depended on the relationship, and of course, on the purpose of having the password. If it was for the express purpose of spying on your partner, then of course that is unacceptable. At least that's the opinion I now hold. Which I think is a reflection of where I am in terms of my relationship, and more importantly, where I am in terms of my own personal development.

After ending the call, I have been thinking more on this...

It really does boil down to how you see yourself, and how content and satisfied you are in your own skin. If you feel the need to keep your partner under surveillance, for whatever reason, then that speaks volumes not just about your relationship, but about your own perceptions of self. And it is only when you are happy with yourself, and confident in the knowledge that you are worthy of love, that you can let go. You can accept to accept whatever life brings. If it brings a lifetime's marital bliss, then that's wonderful, and if it doesn't, then that's okay too. Spying on your partner will not prevent marital disharmony, it will only ignite it. And if your husband or wife is looking elsewhere or wants something else, spying on them and/or catching them out won't change that.

The things that matter to you
may not matter to me
that doesn't make me less or more
we still share mortality...

On dreams

Vivid dreams linger,
casting a shroud of ethereality-
colouring what we thought we knew.

Part 2- Ustadh Usama Canon

I had heard of Ustadh Usama Canon, even facebook-friended him. But I had not yet had the privilege of hearing him speak. And what a privilege it was. His style of delivery is captivating, engaging, inspiring. His charisma (and there is plenty of it) stems from his unmistakable devotion to and passion for Islam/Muslims/humanity and the breadth of knowledge that he has managed to acquire in just 15 years. Mashallah. Mashallah. Mashallah. Its very hard to adequately convey the ambience that he managed to create within moments... I know its cliche but you really just had to be there.

The italicised writing below is quoted/paraphrased from his talk, as understood by me. It was delivered to an eager audience last night at the In Pursuit of Happiness: Prophetic Guidance Towards Wellbeing workshop. There is a lot missing, because I was too busy taking it all in, too moved to move.

He said...

Realise your uniqueness. But do so with humility. Do not fall into the trap of narcissism. Overcome yourself. God does not consider your appearance. God only considers your heart and your deeds.

Its all About Allah (God). Allah is reality.

Know Allah, take on His attributes to the extent that is humanly possible. Allah is merciful, so you should be merciful. Allah is just so you should be just etc...

Be kind to your children. Dont say hurtful things to them. Do not be too punitive with them. Do not break their hearts.

To break the heart of a believer is greater with Allah than to destroy the Kaaba brick by brick. So be mindful of this.

The same applies with your siblings. Do not call them names, do not be hurtful. It will crush them. It will damage their self-esteem. And they will carry those scars into adulthood.

Watch what you say, even to yourself, because your subconscious is listening and recording.

Dont always think about yourself. Remember God abundantly. Talk about Him all the time.

One of the best ways to combat depression is to serve. Give your time to the service of others. Volunteer. Spend time with your elders.

Consider the company that you keep. It is an undoubtful truth that if you keep the company of questionable people, you will be influenced by them. Similarly, it is an undoubtful truth that if you keep the company of your betters, you will be influenced by them.

We are obsessed with people who are obsessed with themselves. This is not beneficial.

Dedicate yourself to the regular, routine study of Islam. It does not need to be extensive, even if its one lesson per week. Check online for courses.

Benefit from the wisdom of your elders. Spend time with the youth. Be someone's mentor.

Let your tongue be moist with the rememberance of God.

And of the youth, he said...

We need to rethink the Islamic discourse on youth. To do that, we must consider how difficult it is to be a young person in today's society... in reaching our youth, we need to convey the deen in a way that provides clarification. It is all about communication.

The youth inherited this mess. Consequently, they are often forced to enact multiple modalities of cultural expression, which can be very taxing.

Our greatest threat is apathy. It the Í don't care' attitude.

Sadly, many of our youth are suffering from compound ignorance: Being ignorant of their ignorance. We need to help them overcome this ignorance by reaching out the 90% of Muslims who aren't attending the mosques regularly, who aren't attending gatherings like this. Remember, the essence of a human being is in knowledge and piety.

We want to be pious for God. He wants that for us.

and finally, something that will stay with me always...

If you don't believe in God, what do you do with gratitude?

Part 1- Dr Hanan Dover

The italicised writing below is quoted/paraphrased from my insightful sister and friend Dr Hanan Dover, as understood by me. It was delivered to an eager audience last night at the In Pursuit of Happiness: Prophetic Guidance Towards Wellbeing workshop.

As she spoke so eloquently, I craved to share her words with the world. I wanted them recorded and broadcast to Muslim and non-Muslim alike, because they were so valuable, so poignant.

She said...

Know yourself.

The prophet Muhammad (pbuh) said: 'He who knows himself knows Allah'.

Human beings are born in a state of fitrah- the inherent, innate inclination to goodness. We are innately conditioned to submit to God.
It is our environment that steers us away from this.

The fitrah is one's moral compass.

Every soul has already made a covenant with God, before entering this world. Our souls were conscious and when they were asked about God, they responded with Tawhid.

Consequently, when our souls entered this realm of consciousness, they do so in this state of inherent fitrah.

It is vital, therefore, that we take time to reflect. We need to be self-aware in order to align ourselves with our fitra, to re-orient ourselves with God. We need to invoke and actualise our fitrah potential, not our fitnah potential.

Human beings are dynamic, but fitrah stays the same.

There are three levels of Nafs (soul/self):

- The soul prone to and inciting evil. This is the basest of levels, and one which is guided by the five senses, to one's biology. It commands one to do wrong.

-The self-reproaching soul. This is the second level and is described as the self-blaming self. It has self-awareness; it questions, reflects and is dynamic. This is the level that many of us are in.

-The tranquil soul. The highest level and the one which we must all aspire to. It is a state of satisfaction, contentment, tranquility. It is the attainment of harmony with God. It still requires effort to maintain.

We can all rise above our commanding nafs.

Sadly, rather than aspire to the highest level of nafs, many who are at the self-reproaching soul use it to justify the actions attached to the lowest level. They view shame and guilt as negative, when in actual fact they are positive emotions, motivating one to be good. It is when one feels no shame or guilt that anything goes.

Saying that, this does not mean that we need to have dysfunctional thoughts and live in a state of despair. On the contrary, we must meet hardship and trials with hope. We need to understand that hardship will inevitably befall each and every one of us at different points in time. The four reasons for hardship, as alluded to in the Quran, are to punish us for wrongdoing, to shield us from greater misery, to sift out the evil from within us and to give us an opportunity to earn reward by showing patience.


The way you think will effect the way you feel. Catch your thought- ask yourself if it is realistic/helpful or not. Negative thoughts (waswaas) are whispered from the shaytan (satan). Its aim is to bring you down. The more you entertain them, the more they will spiral out of control. Avoid waswaas; give people the benefit of the doubt.

Waswaas is a corruptor of sincerity, intention, patience, morals, cognition and behaviour.

It is important to remember that emotions come first, so we need to manage our emotions in order to control and manage our actions.

Human beings can only attain the highest level of nafs by being faithful to our nature- re-orient yourself and return back to God.

Timely reminders by those who know.

Blown away by a talk I attended today. Will write about it in detail when I have the time to do it justice, but for now, a couple of pearls of wisdoms that I had the great fortune of benefitting from, courtesy of the esteemed Ustadth Usama Canon...

'Know Allah, take on His attributes to the extent that is humanly possible. Allah is merciful, so you should be merciful...'

and

'Watch what you say- your subconsious is listening and recording...'

Mothers: changing the way we think

When reflecting on my mothering practices, I have a tendency be very hard on myself. Unless I have been doing something consistently and routinely, I don't feel like I'm doing enough.

Take, for example, reading with the children. My aim has always been to read at least three books to them each day. So when I go for days without reading to them anything at all, I am overcome with feelings of mother-guilt, anxiety and inadequacy. And often, its not because I didn't want to, but because I just couldn't find the time to read three. And so rather than just do one and be content with that, I end up skipping it altogether. Shameful I know.

In hindsight, I am sometimes sensible enough to realise that its not the end of the world if things are not done religiously or to the standards that I have arbitrarily set. Because there are no hard and fast rules really, only man-made ones. That I am trying to do the right thing by them and for them as a matter of priority should be what counts. After all, actions are by intention. God knows I remind the children of that often enough. If only I could heed my own advice (well, actually, the advice of our beloved Prophet, may the peace and blessings of God be upon him).

So, in reminding myself, I will also offer you, the reader, the same. It's okay to do things only sometimes. It still counts if you do something one day and not the next or even the one after that. Surely, a content mum is better than a guilt-ridden one.

A family adventure

Yesterday, we had no plan, only an intention. A family adventure, as you do, after close to two weeks of school holidays. Something that we could all partake in, that wouldn't cost an arm and a leg and possibly a kidney (as most school holiday activities do these days!).

So we packed the children and their placatory snacks into the Tarago, and set off into the wide open space that is New South Wales, Australia. The only thing that was missing was a good camera, but on my husband's advice, we used our minds to capture the magic.

And it was magic. An endless tapestry of God's art rolled out before us, inviting us to be impressed, enthralled, humbled.

We saw endless open fields scattered with wildlife- sheep, cattle, horses- grazing, oblivious to our existence and within an arms length of our car. Each field offered a different and equally beautiful landscape, every shade of red, brown and green.

We drove through little rural towns whose very air told a story of a bygone era, their pride resonating from their carefully maintained and cared for heritage buildings- post offices, hotels, and railway stations. The pace of life slowed before our eyes...

We drove over a mountain as thick, heavy clouds descended and washed away the day's humidity with rain... the beauty of the limitless skyscraping forests that lined the meagre road was overwhelming. The trunks stood like loyal guards, each in perfect vertical parallel with his brother. I felt privileged to have had access to such daunting grandeur, imbued with every shade and hue of green.

And we were even welcomed by the Clyde River. The estuary invited us to dinner and we gladly obliged. Fish, chips and salad. The local seagulls were equally obliging.

All in all, our intention was well and truly accomplished and our expectations surpassed, courtesy of the Creator. And my mind's eye has plenty to reflect upon for a long time to come...

About a voice

Sometimes her voice speaks
the words rendered insignificant
It is the loudest sound in the world
demanding attention, commanding me to listen

Sometimes her voice speaks
there are no words but she is
eloquent, articulate, poignant
much to my surprise...

Sometimes her voice speaks
affecting an emotional response
involuntary, raw commotion
within and without

Sometimes her voice speaks
in a dark room, alone.
It is muted, muffled, drowned out
by the busy inattentive crowds outside

Sometimes her voice speaks
to me and me alone
I hear her pain, I feel her tears
my hands are tied so I kick her instead.

Hopes and dreams

I want my children to be
cognizant and loving of God
good
positive
happy
healthy
content
patient
kind
generous
resilient
humble
compassionate
empathetic
ambitious
successful
financially secure/comfortable
grateful
thankful
considerate
loved
valued
safe


I want my children to
love
recognise and nurture their potential
have their potential recognised and nurtured
keep the company of their betters
respect and value their elders
feel that they mattered in this world

...that's not too much is it?

...

Apathy
warns of stumble-tripping down the path of Low Mood,
the most direct root to Depressive State.
My vehicle has tinted windows.
Despite pretty mind’s instructions to enjoy the view,
the adjectives that filter through all connote
Apathy
The streetscape is monotone.
Autumn is …well… Autumn.
Joy is a brief smile, because it should be.
I over-consume chocolate rather than savour it-
Even my taste buds have been infected with
Apathy
The house is fast descending into
What normal mind would term chaos, which
Under normal circumstances would invoke
A response of fervent house-cleaning
But, this mind’s receptors coolly respond with
Apathy
Oh that I could hit a switch to turn it on again-
I would surely revel in the ecstasy of the luminous light
Making hay, lots of it, before this insidious, passive sin
Seeps in and – click. Oblivion’s synonym:
Apathy.

I am a mother.

image sourced from http://www.normankoren.com/Weingarden/drawings_1.html


As a mother, my natural instincts are to protect my children at all times, to ensure that they feel safe, that they are safe. I want to shower them with love, affection and attention so that they recognise just how special each and every one of them are. I don't ever want them to feel vulnerable, unimportant or (God-forbid), unloved.

As a mother, to be robbed of the ability to enact these instincts, even for only some of the time, is harrowing.

From the tender ages of 2,3 and 5, my eldest children and I have had to endure time apart. I remember the emotional turmoil of those early visits, and the ensuing mind-heart conflict: I knew that they had a right to be with their father and his family, but also felt completely overwhelmed by the fact that I could do nothing to protect them whilst in his care. Now, under ordinary circumstances, a mum could take comfort in the fact that their father would be equally protective of his children. He should be. But, sadly, I know that isn't the case here.

Nine years on, it still hurts. It still haunts. I try the positive self-talk, assuring myself that I have laid strong foundations in them that will hold them in good stead when they are away. I remind myself that they are getting older, more mature and consequently more resilient with each passng day. When the self-talk begins to turn ugly, I try to numb the pain by keeping busy. Try ever-so hard to occupy my mind and time with everyday pressing, time-consuming mundanities. And at night, I avoid bed until I am beyond tired, in the hope that I may be rendered unconscious before the drifting mind begins its guilt-prompting discourse.

But I am not always like this. Sometimes, I am hopeful. And I've worked out that my hope is directly linked to my mindfulness of God: the more mindful I am, the more hopeful I become. The more I submit to His Will, the more relieved I become.

But, I am human. And I am a mother. And sometimes, I waver. I wish I didn't.

My eldest children will be coming home tomorrow, after more than a week away. Thank God.

Parting words...

If you were going to say goodbye to this world today, what would your parting words be?

On reflection, I think it would all depend on a number of factors, the most pertinent being ones' beliefs, current life circumstances/roles, and the most obvious of all, the circumstances of ones' death. But, putting the last factor aside, I think I would want to... no, I shan't say until others have given some input.

So, go on then, what would you say?

Off the top of my head and on the tip of my tongue.

Don't sweat the small stuff- in the grand scheme of things, it won't really matter. It just leaves you feeling horrid, and for those unfortunate enough to catch you in that state, they will remember you as angry and mean. Not a nice way to be remembered.

It's okay for your home to look lived in. A bit of mess never hurt anyone, especially if it meant you got to spend more time doing stuff with your family. Children in particular probably won't care if their home had been a show home, but they will care if they felt like they missed out on quality time with you. Show them you love them by watching them, and taking an active interest in who they are and what they like.

No use crying over spilt milk. If you made a mistake, attempt to fix it/apologise for it then get over it. We are all of us fallible. We will make mistakes, but as long as we try to avoid them as best we can, try to atone for them, learn and grow from them and move on, then it really is okay. And obsessing over them wont help. It just becomes a consuming self-destructive attitude which has the potential to be dangerous.

Random much? Sure is. But that's some of what's going on in my mind right now...