Ramadan Journal '18 | Week Four
15:00
Day 22 | Regret
.هر چیز که هست، از خداست
Whatever it is, it is from God.
We humans are such unforgiving things. And we are harshest with that unforgiving nature towards ourselves. I have made enough mistakes, choices and decisions over the years that have made me wish, on more than one occasion, that I could re-write my life. There are so many times when the rug has been pulled out from under me, so many experiences that spiralled out of my control and I no longer had the power to reel them back in. But did I ever have the power in the first place?
Hindsight is a cruel and beautiful thing. Looking back, in so many ways I do wish I hadn't made certain choices and yet in so many ways, I'm not so sure I would take them back if I could. Because if I could re-write my life-defining moments, then they wouldn't be life-defining. Like a domino effect, they have pushed me into new chapters, newer versions of myself, new beginnings that once upon a time had felt like devastating endings. There are parts of me that wouldn't exist without those moments, parts of me that I pray will always be a part of me. I wonder who I would be had those moments not sparked into motion, and I wonder if I would like her or be as proud of her as I am of the girl who looks back at me in the mirror. I am the woman I am today because of the people and experiences that have been characters and events in my story. And like any story, it has had its heroes and villains and enough plot twists to create the emotional roller coaster from hell...and like any protagonist in her story, it has only made me morph into a stronger version of myself.
I have finally learnt to accept the lows with the highs. There are things in life that are simply not in my control. I have stopped regretting the past and mourning has-beens. I have stopped living in chapters that ended long ago. And I have started to trust God's timing. Alhumdulillah if it comes, Alhumdulillah if it goes. What I am destined for will always be mine, and what I am not destined for will never be mine. Regret nothing. Not the mistakes, not the path that God has written for you, not your journey that is being guided by the Almighty. When it goes your way, embrace it. And when it doesn't go your way, let it go. It is what it is. Life is too short to waste it dwelling on what cannot be changed or controlled. Move on. Trust the wisdom in all that flows in and out of your life. And let it sow the seeds that will one day bloom.
Hindsight is a cruel and beautiful thing. Looking back, in so many ways I do wish I hadn't made certain choices and yet in so many ways, I'm not so sure I would take them back if I could. Because if I could re-write my life-defining moments, then they wouldn't be life-defining. Like a domino effect, they have pushed me into new chapters, newer versions of myself, new beginnings that once upon a time had felt like devastating endings. There are parts of me that wouldn't exist without those moments, parts of me that I pray will always be a part of me. I wonder who I would be had those moments not sparked into motion, and I wonder if I would like her or be as proud of her as I am of the girl who looks back at me in the mirror. I am the woman I am today because of the people and experiences that have been characters and events in my story. And like any story, it has had its heroes and villains and enough plot twists to create the emotional roller coaster from hell...and like any protagonist in her story, it has only made me morph into a stronger version of myself.
I have finally learnt to accept the lows with the highs. There are things in life that are simply not in my control. I have stopped regretting the past and mourning has-beens. I have stopped living in chapters that ended long ago. And I have started to trust God's timing. Alhumdulillah if it comes, Alhumdulillah if it goes. What I am destined for will always be mine, and what I am not destined for will never be mine. Regret nothing. Not the mistakes, not the path that God has written for you, not your journey that is being guided by the Almighty. When it goes your way, embrace it. And when it doesn't go your way, let it go. It is what it is. Life is too short to waste it dwelling on what cannot be changed or controlled. Move on. Trust the wisdom in all that flows in and out of your life. And let it sow the seeds that will one day bloom.
Day 23 | Unmasked
Some days I get out of bed and fumble with the keys that unlock my secrets before they clumsily fall to the ground in a mess of bronze shaded confusion and copper coloured guilt.
Other days I abandon the keys and the secrets spill in all their golden glory.
Some days I know the answers to my questions.
Other days I answer the questions with a question.
Some days I feel closest to God than I do to anyone else on the planet.
Other days I struggle to find a wisp of faith to cling on to.
Some days I wear the headscarf and feel like a hypocrite.
Other days I don't wear the headscarf and feel like a hypocrite.
Some days I am patient and kind and gentle.
Other days I am internally screaming and want nothing more than to shut myself off from the rest of the world.
Some days my tongue is quick with its sharp judgements.
Other days I remember that we are all just human
Some days I fall in love with life.
Other days I wish I wasn't trapped in it.
Some days I wear the bold red lipstick that is collecting dust in my vanity and I feel like I could take on the world.
Other days I leave the house bare-faced and feel liberated and un-pretty in the same breath.
Some days I am proud of the girl in the mirror.
Other days I hate her.
So many faces and I do not know which is mine.
My reflection is a foreigner, a flimsy thing that flickers like a jaded illusion and I am scared to know, that if all the masks were to be stripped away, which face it would wear.
If it would be a familiar friend or a stranger staring back at me
unflinching
unrecognisable
unfamiliar.
Other days I abandon the keys and the secrets spill in all their golden glory.
Some days I know the answers to my questions.
Other days I answer the questions with a question.
Some days I feel closest to God than I do to anyone else on the planet.
Other days I struggle to find a wisp of faith to cling on to.
Some days I wear the headscarf and feel like a hypocrite.
Other days I don't wear the headscarf and feel like a hypocrite.
Some days I am patient and kind and gentle.
Other days I am internally screaming and want nothing more than to shut myself off from the rest of the world.
Some days my tongue is quick with its sharp judgements.
Other days I remember that we are all just human
Some days I fall in love with life.
Other days I wish I wasn't trapped in it.
Some days I wear the bold red lipstick that is collecting dust in my vanity and I feel like I could take on the world.
Other days I leave the house bare-faced and feel liberated and un-pretty in the same breath.
Some days I am proud of the girl in the mirror.
Other days I hate her.
So many faces and I do not know which is mine.
My reflection is a foreigner, a flimsy thing that flickers like a jaded illusion and I am scared to know, that if all the masks were to be stripped away, which face it would wear.
If it would be a familiar friend or a stranger staring back at me
unflinching
unrecognisable
unfamiliar.
Day 24 | Gift
Day 25 | Treat
eid treats
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| White chocolate, pistachio & raspberry mud cakes |
Day 26 | Quest
my heart woke me crying last night
how can i help i asked
my heart took me by the hands and pleaded
return to Him
for this guilt, it kills me
these sins, they blacken me
this distance, it tears me my heart said with tears streaming down it’s eyes
return to Him
so we can both be at peace
Day 27 | Magic
Currently reading:
some books are magic. and this is one of them.
Day 28 | Night
“Don’t worry, Allah is never blind to your tears, never deaf to your prayers and never silent to your pains. He sees, He hears and He will deliver.”
— Trust Him | Tawakkul (source)
My alarm pierces the dead of the night at 3:56am. I stumble out of bed, bleary eyed and forcing my aching muscles to reluctantly comply. I slip through my bedroom door, careful to avoid the floorboard that creaks and keeping all the lights switched off because they're like floodlights that blind. I fumble my way to the bathroom and soak my face, arms and feet in icy cold water.
I think I'm still half asleep.
I shut my bedroom door tight and flick on the fairy lights that hang from my bookshelves and it feels almost magical to be awake while the rest of the world sleeps, bathed in the warm glow of my room with the sacred quiet as pure as the rays of the sun that hover on the horizon waiting to be called to rise.
Oh, how I'd hate praying in the dark with my back facing the window, my overactive imagination running wild with the middle of the night. Now, I relish it. My mind drifts to my tiny beating heart that could stop any second but if it were to stop at this particular moment in time, to die like this would be a beautiful way to die. Head on the ground, heart in submission.
I sit on that faithful prayer mat of mine; the wine red colour has faded with time and the tassles are half hanging off, proof of its undying loyalty. It has soaked up more tears than I can count, has heard my desperate prayers and witnessed a broken self that no other soul has seen.
I lift my hands to the heavens...and stop. My lips are parted but the words don't slip out into the darkness. My voice has faltered. My mind has gone numb. I panic. This is what I sacrificed sleep for...this is the moment my soul has been aching for and yet. I can't find the words.
I don't know what to ask for. I don't know what to ask. The chaos runs too deep, is too much, my mind too cluttered for me to dip my hand in and pluck out a coherent thought and say
m e n d t h i s
m e n d t h i s
I am too aware of how, on the inside, I am full of broken glass, how the splintered pieces slice me open enough times that I can't tell where the wounds start and end and how does one even start to peer through the looking glass when there are too many mirrors to count. I want to blow each one of those pieces into the heavens, hold it out to You in my bleeding palms and beg You to fix it.
I panic that I am too broken to fix, that the wounds run too deep to heal and that my frazzled mind that is being crushed by the weight of all that is wrong is not letting me adequately tell You all that I want to say. The flimsy words get lost in my throat. I'm not doing this right.
i need you i need you i need you
The painful irony in how I cannot tell You just how much, in just how many ways I do, digs in hard.
i need you i need you i need you
The words are drowned out by the panicked beating of my heart fighting against its cage as it works itself up into a frenzy and I can taste the salt from the stream of tears gently falling onto that prayer mat of mine and oh God, this is all I have.
take my tears as silent prayers
i need you i need you i need you
The painful irony in how I cannot tell You just how much, in just how many ways I do, digs in hard.
i need you i need you i need you
The words are drowned out by the panicked beating of my heart fighting against its cage as it works itself up into a frenzy and I can taste the salt from the stream of tears gently falling onto that prayer mat of mine and oh God, this is all I have.
take my tears as silent prayers
And, just like that, my heart steadies its beat and the tears dry as You purge the heartache they carry and answer their call. My words may not give rise to voice but they course through my bloodstream with each painful beat of my heart and I know that You know. That You hear even the unspoken pleas for help...and You answer them as soundly as You do the spoken.
وَلَقَدْ خَلَقْنَا الْإِنسَانَ وَنَعْلَمُ مَا تُوَسْوِسُ بِهِ نَفْسُهُ وَنَحْنُ أَقْرَبُ إِلَيْهِ مِنْ حَبْلِ الْوَرِيدِ
And We have already created man and know what his soul whispers to him, and We are closer to him than [his] jugular vein - 50:16
Day 29 | Aspire
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| | People watch you. You can talk about Islam’s infinite mercy but they’re going to notice whether you hold doors, whether you offer people your food, whether you are quick to anger, it’s not about the simple rules or what you see as Truth, but you living The Truth - source |
Day 30 | Celebrate
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| عيد مبارك |
Wishing you all the most wonderful Eid! I hope you celebrate not just the luscious food and sugary treats that come your way, but also the little things that you have done this month that weigh heavy on the scales. Be proud of how far you've come, even if it doesn't feel like you have moved at all. Because the miles make up a marathon.
Keep the faith, count your blessings, and pray that this beautiful month greets you with all its bountiful promises once again in a year to come x
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