Bad friend vs good friend: An analogy of here and there.

Today, I was speaking to my 14-year old son Mohamad about this world (as you do!). I wanted him to grasp the truth of the human condition, even if only momentarily, because its not easy for any of us, let alone a child, to fully comprehend our place in the world. It is exceptionally hard to step outside our own frame of mind, that which informs the way we view and interpret the world and all it contains, to look from the outside in, and see the minuteness of us as individuals and the fleeting imprint that will be our life here. It doesn't take long for our passing to be forgotten, and only a little longer for our memory to fade. We leave nothing here but particles of dust- and only a lucky few manage any sort of enduring legacy, and even that is finite and limited.

So I put it to him like this:

This world is like a bad friend.  It masquerades as embodied perfection, with its beauty and its invitations to pleasure. It is exciting, intriguing and mysterious - a recipe for keeping you permanently interested. It tempts you into trusting it, into thinking it is loyal and faithful. It woos you into abiding its whims, distracting you from those things that would serve you better in the grand scheme of things. It does not love you and will not remember you when you are gone. It is the epitome of fair-weather friend; you only see its true colours when you are most vulnerable; and often times, it is too late a discovery.

Do not fall prey to it. See it for what it is, a beautiful lie. Be aware, and with God's Grace, you will be able to live with it without losing sight of what really matters. Do not take it as a friend, but acquaint yourself enough with it to leave your mark. Live with it according to the Prophet's hadith, as narrated in Al-Bukhari:

“Be in this world as though you were a stranger or a traveller/wayfarer.”
Ibn ‘Umar used to say:
“When evening comes, do not expect (to live till) morning, and when morning comes, do not expect (to live till) evening. Take from your health (a preparation) for your illness, and from your life for your death.”

And remember the friend that genuinely loves you, the one that will be constant and true and hold not just your memories but your eternal soul. It is your best friend, because it wants what is in your best interest. It is not just externally beautiful, it is the real deal. It asks nothing of you but to see through this world's pretence. It wants you to expose the delusion and to seek it with diligence and sincerity.

It's no easy feat maintaining it at the front and centre of our human minds, because we've yet to see it with our own eyes. We are yet to have the pleasure of beholding its unparalleled beauty. We've read about it, heard about it, even imagined it, but we simply cannot grasp its magnificence until we've earned it. And once we do, it will remember us, welcome us and love us,  unwaveringly, forever. And we will finally be home.




 

She's graduating!

                                                                                               circa 2008

This week will be my eldest daughter's final week of school. A culmination of 13 years of schooling will officially come to end this Friday.  I speak for myself when I say that it has been a beautiful adventure (I'm sure she'd beg to differ at this particular point in time, given she is yet to sit her HSC). I'm sure, after that dash is done, she will look back with fondness and treasure the memories formed in the wondrous world of school. God-willing.

The most significant outcome for Wafa, and the one I am most grateful to her many wonderful teachers for, is that she now has a deep-rooted love of learning. Her kindergarten teacher, Mrs Thompson, planted the seed, which was lovingly tended to by many inspiring individuals along the way.

One of the more notable teachers and unquestionably one of the finest teachers I've ever had the privilege to meet was Miss Critchley, her year 2 teacher. She went above and beyond, not just for Wafa but for her classmates as well; consequently, there are few school-related memories that don't feature her in some way or another.

I pray that Wafa's love of learning is an enduring one that will only be fortified by the enriching learning environments of tertiary education and beyond.  And, in case anyone has missed it in my previous posts about her, I am extremely proud of this young woman. Alhamdulilah.

Congratulations sweetheart!

xxxx Mum

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

**Warning: spoiler alert**

This book has been hailed a 'coming of age' story, though I don't really think that's the most fitting description. The main character, Charlie, starts high school  and celebrates his 16th birthday in the book. But he is already, in a lot of ways, an 'adult', mature beyond his years, having navigated an array of psychosocial crises, some beyond his expected stage of development. He is different, sensitive, intelligent. He's perceptive, reflective, loving. He is the antithesis of egotistical.

He starts the book in many ways a 'loner', not because he is unlikeable per se, but because he is so far 'ahead' in his development that he doesn't fit in with his regular peers. Consequently, he is taken under the wings of some older, more experienced/developed individuals (a gay senior student in the 90's and his sexually abused step-sister) - they are better able to recognise how beautiful he is, albeit in his own way, and they accept him quirks and all.

Though perhaps quirks is not the right word either. He's special. That's the best way to put it really. I fell in love with his character.

I think the book is quite well written, and the character development in particular is applaudable- there is enough detail provided to scaffold deeper understanding for the reader, giving access to a whole range of audiences (from young adult to the more mature adult like me!). I was able to connect with the characters, especially Charlie, and mould him into a version that made the most sense in my reading of the story. And it was a version that maintained consistency throughout the story, so kudos to the clever craftsmanship of the author for facilitating that.

Saying that, I found the book gratuitously sexual in some parts - which was probably the only inconsistency where Charlie's character was concerned. The only redemption in that regard was that it was articulated in a very matter-of-fact kind of way, which is consistent with my reading of his character. Nevertheless, I think some of those scenes were unnecessary and did not add any value to the book. At the very least, they could have been less explicit-  the book would not have lost any of its potency at all.

As a side note, the music and the books that were referenced in the story are a great collection to get your teeth/ears into. I have read some (not all) many years ago, but will revisit them over the next few months.

There were some remarkable observations made by this 16 year old, which made you forget just how young he was. I will share a few that I really loved. I guess they resonated with me because I think/have thought in that way too...

'And all the books you've read have been read by other people. And all the songs you've loved have been heard by other people. And that girl that's pretty to you is pretty to other people. And you know that if you looked at these facts when you were happy, you would feel great because you are describing "unity" '.


'I walk around the school hallways and look at people. I look at the teachers and wonder why they're here. If they like their jobs. Or us. And I wonder how smart they were when they were fifteen. Not in a mean way. In a curious way. It's like looking at all the students and wondering who's had their heart broken that day, and how they will be able to cope with having three quizzes and a book report on top of that'.


'I remember going to sleep last night, and I realised something. Something that I think is important. I realised that throughout the course of the evening, I wasn't happy about Craig and Sam breaking up. Not at all. I never once thought it would mean Sam might start liking me. All I cared about was the fact that Sam got really hurt. And I guess I realised at that moment that I really did love her. Because there was nothing to gain, and that didn't matter'.

'But it's like when my doctor told me the story of these two brothers whose dad was a bad alcoholic. One brother grew up to be a successful carpenter who never drank. The other brother ended up being a drinker as bad as his dad was. When they asked the first brother why he didn't drink, he said that after he saw what it did to his father, he could never bring himself to try it. When they asked the other brother, he said that he guessed he learned how to drink on his father's knee. So, I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we'll never know most of them. But even if we don't have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there. We can still do things. And we can try to feel okay about them'. 

There are so many poignant observations but I'll leave it at that.

There were some things I thought could have been executed better- like the fact that he didn't recall his sexual abuse at his first sexual encounter but does so subsequently, with the girl he loves. Perhaps that was intentional, perhaps it took someone whom he was emotionally deeply connected to to trigger those repressed memories, but it's not clear enough. Plus, once it's revealed, it was not given its due diligence and the story was quite rushed from there on in. In my opinion, its a significant revelation that warrants more exploration. Perhaps that's my own personal bias colouring my perspective, I don't really know.

There were some other issues, minor ones I suppose, like how quickly and easily they 'got over' certain addictions/habbits. They could stop and start at will, which is unrealistic. But I guess it doesn't take away from the story, which makes it tolerable.

I cried in a couple of places. And I'm not even hormonal at the moment. So that says something positive too I suppose.

The movie, on the other hand, was a big disappointment. The characterisation of Charlie was all wrong. You could forgive incomplete or inaccurate characterisations for secondary characters but not for the main character. And what really bothered me was that it was directed by Chbosky, the author, so he should have known better. It was far too Hollywood for me. It lacked depth and as such, had zero emotion. It was an insult to the book as far as I'm concerned. I thought the casting was good but they simply didn't have an adequate script to work with. I loved Emma Watson as Sam. And Ezra Miller as Patrick. But again, they had very little to work with so it didn't really go anywhere for me. Perhaps some books are just better left untranslated to screen.

Well, I think that's enough to be getting on with.

If, by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;
If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And — which is more — you’ll be a Man, my son!
 

A tribute on Father's Day

There's often very little focus on fathers in public conversation. Ever. Well, that's not entirely true- they are put under an excruciatingly bright spotlight when they are doing it wrong or not doing it at all (usually by disgruntled mothers who are having to pick up the slack, and rightly so).
But even parenting books are far more skewed to a female audience than a male one. They start out speaking to the 'parents' but inevitably end up speaking to the primary carer, and statistics alone would evidence that that is predominantly mum. So the poor dads don't get anywhere near enough recognition for the vital roles they play in this whole parenting gig, and it is vital, even if it isn't them choosing to be a SAHD. Whatever its manifestation, it warrants validation and recognition.

So here's a little tribute to you, dads. Because you deserve it.

I acknowledge that a father is the first male role model that a child has. You are the man that boys learn to be boys from and the man that girls learn about boys from. You set the tone for their future relationships - teaching the boys how to be husbands and fathers, and teaching the girls what to expect from husbands and fathers. And that's no small responsibility.

I acknowledge that given the choice, most of you would probably like to play a more hands-on role with your children, to watch them reach their milestone moments, to see their eyes light up when they learn something new. But you don't usually get that choice because society still expects you to be the main provider (or at least an equal provider) and so off to work you go.

You don't always enjoy what you do, but you often grin and bear it because you put your family first. You want to give them everything you had and everything you didn't. You want to ensure that they are afforded every opportunity possible. So you strive, day in, day out, for them.

I acknowledge that you have to be the hero, even when you aren't feeling heroic. Even when you yourself are vulnerable, and in need of love and understanding and protection. You have to be strong, to be 'masculine' (whatever that means!), to be a 'man'.
You grew up in an age where the definition of father was very rigid and unambiguous: the connotations were all based around being the protector, the provider, the rational, unemotional one. And even with all the changes that have happened in the definitions of gender roles in the last 20-30 years, there are still certain societal expectations that lay down parameters for what will be tolerated and what won't. So you put on your armour, hold your chin up and get on with fighting the demons within and without; you will be brave and courageous and an unwavering pillar of strength.

I acknowledge that sometimes, you need to hear some acknowledgement, some praise, for the sacrifices you make, for the effort you put in, for the good and noble intentions that inform your decisions and actions. I know that you are far less noticed as a father than us mothers and that's not always fair.

I acknowledge that your role as father is just as crucial as that of mother.

So I say, on behalf of all mothers and daughters, thank you.
 

My Oh My

David Gray has long been a favourite artist of mine. I first bought one of his albums, 'White Ladder' in 2002. It's probably been played more than any other album since. Highly recommend it to anyone who enjoys not just good music but great lyrics as well.


This one resonated this morning...


What on earth is going on in my heart?
Has it turned as cold as stone?
Seems these days I don't feel anything
'Less it cuts me right down to the bone
What on earth is going on in my heart?

'Cause my oh my, you know it just don't stop
It's in my mind, I wanna tear it up
I try to fight it, try to turn it off
But it's not enough
It takes a lot of love
It takes a lot of love my friend
To keep your heart from freezing
To push on till the end
My oh my

What on earth is going on in my head?
You know I used to be so sure
You know I used to be so definite
Thought I knew, what love was for
I look around these days
I'm not so sure



My oh my, you know it just don't stop
It's in my mind, I wanna tear it up
I try to fight it, try to turn it off
But it's not enough
It takes a lot of love
It takes a lot of love my friend
To keep your heart from freezing
To push on till the end

My oh my, you know I just can't win
I burn it down it comes right back again
What kind of world is this we're living in?
Where you never win
It takes a lot of love
It takes a lot of love these days
To keep your heart from freezing
To keep your spirit free



My oh my, you know it just don't stop
It's in my mind, I wanna tear it up
I try to fight it, try to turn it off
But it's not enough
It takes a lot of love
It takes a lot of love my friend
To keep your heart from freezing
To push on till the end

And my oh my, you know it just don't stop
My oh my, you know it just don't stop
Just don't
My oh my, you know it just don't stop...
 

'Slow down!'

Twice in as many weeks I've been told by friends that I move really fast. Both times, the context has been multitasking children and household tasks.

I'd never really noticed it before; whilst I am acutely aware of the multitude of things I need to do at any given time, I don't really think about the processes involved in getting them done - I just get on with it. It does mean that I have no option but to multitask because there simply aren't enough hours in the day to do things one at a time. But, on reflection, now that they've mentioned it, it also means I am often zooming around the place, stopping only to dodge furniture or small children.

Well, truth be told, its not a choice and not an easy way to live. But for the moment, when I have a million things I needed to have done by yesterday, its the only way to get by.

I apologise to those friends that find me a bit full on. You're lucky you can't see the state of my mind. I've no doubt you'd run a mile if you could!

The silver lining is that I don't need to go to the gym. I get a cardio workout just getting the children ready for school in the morning. Who needs a spin class, when you're chasing 4 under 10 to get them washed, dressed and presentable? And a pump class is no more strenuous than lugging a 2-year-old on your hip whilst bathing, dressing, cooking, vacuuming and hanging washing (that last one is probably more akin to circus training but I don't want to show off!).

I do have moments when I get to take a breath. But with those breaths I will inevitably inhale guilt and exhale anxiety. 'You could be doing this' or 'you should be doing that'.
This is the way it is in big families. Economies of scale might work for material needs but they certainly don't for every other need. Each child requires individual presence and attention.

So, for now, this is how it is. Fast, intense, chaotic. If its too overwhelming for you, give me a shout in 5 years or so.    

Just passing through...

In all creation
Nothing endures, all is in endless flux,
Each wandering shape a pilgrim passing by.
And time itself glides on in ceaseless flow,
A rolling stream—and streams can never stay,
Nor lightfoot hours. As wave is driven by wave
And each, pursued, pursues the wave ahead,
So time flies on and follows, flies, and follows,
Always, for ever and new. What was before
Is left behind; what never was is now;
And every passing moment is renewed.
- Ovid, Metamorphoses

Hypothyroidism be gone!

The verdict is in. A healthy, overstretched mum it is. Not completely healthy (vitamin D, calcium and ferritin deficient) but no sign of hypothyroidism at the moment. My thyroglobulin levels are still high (413- the normal range is 0-40) but apparently that's expected given my history. Very happy news as far as I'm concerned. Nothing that some supplements, sunbathing and red meat can't fix. 

Hello Spring!