Letter to my Fifteen Year old Self

I recently attended a training on how to facilitate girls' discussions, and they made us do an activity where we had to imagine ourselves as fifteen year olds. After walking us through this vision, they asked us to write a letter to our fifteen year old self. This is what I wrote.

Dear Self:

There's a lot of things I can say to you today but I won't. I will tell you that your life does turn out to be pretty darn good, alhamdullilah. The challenges you are facing right now will only make you stronger and wiser. For me to give you the answers before you find them will compromise who you are meant to become.

But I am here today to tell you one thing I would have done differently if I could get those fifteen years back: Celebrate yourself. Celebrate your every accomplishment, no matter how small. Take a moment to reward yourself when you achieve a goal. Savor the moment. Don't just rush to the next one. And don't trivialize the value you offer the world. If you can celebrate yourself, I promise you that no challenge will be too difficult to handle, because you will know deep down that you can, and you will. And if you celebrate yourself, then the rest of the world will have no choice but to celebrate you also, because you are one amazing, unique young woman.

This is something I have not given a priority to, and is one of my greatest struggles even as I turn thirty. Fifteen years later, I realize now how important it is to be able to believe in your strengths and to be able to receive, and enjoy, praise. And how empowering it is to hear kind words being spoken about you.

Celebrate yourself. And do your friends the same favor by celebrating them too. Your life will truly take a different direction.

Wishing you well,

Your Almost-thirty year old self.

Remaining Neutral in Times of Moral Crisis

It's been a while since I've written, and I really have no excuse not to have kept up. But lately, I've had a lot on my mind, and I thought it would be nice to get it all out there in writing.

I just went to a funders luncheon on Thursday, where the keynote speaker was Soledad O'Brien of CNN News. Her speech spoke of a lot of anecdotes of people working hard to bring about change, and she ended her speech with a quote that I just have not been able to shake off. Dante said, "The hottest places in hell are reserved for those who in times of great moral crisis maintain their neutrality." She continued to explain this by saying, "Those who remain neutral and don't speak out during a moral crisis and don't call for action, are actually worse than the perpetrator themselves."

Perhaps this is especially relevant to me because there are specific instances right now in my personal life where this is actually happening - certain people not being able to do the right thing, or speak out against injustice, and rather, are almost as if they are paralyzed by what has happened.

But, I think it is also relevant to me professionally, and as a member of a community, because there are countless instances where this just keeps happening. My conversations with Islamic school educators and administrators has really opened up my eyes to some really serious situations. Severe bullying, substance abuse, and sexual experimentation is rampant in our Islamic schools. When administrators are made aware of these problems, they merely look the other way, pretending they doesn't exist. Severe substance abuse, attempted suicides, and risky sexual activity are plaguing our youth, and often, these are young people crying out for help, and other times, these are young people who just know that they can, so they do.

Maybe I just lived in a bubble my whole life, and it just now recently burst. But honestly, 2010 has been a really hard year for me because over and over again, I just keep seeing instances where people become paralyzed by moral crisis and continue with life as if nothing happened.

Is it just easier? To ignore the problem? To deny that it exists? What will it take for us to wake up, and stand up for justice? Have we, as a society become so delusional and self-centered, that we just can't see beyond ourselves? Have we as a society become so wrapped up in cultural stigma, and judgment and preoccupied with what other people will say that we just can't face the problems that afflict us? Because if you address the problem, it's admitting that it exists, and if you try to seek help for the problem, you're risking getting exposed. Is that just it? Are we so paralyzed by the shame and embarrassment that accompany these issues that we just can't simply move past that part of dealing with it?

I suppose this is all a part of getting older. Being disappointed by people, by society, and trying to make sense of it. Trying most of all, to still see the good in those same people, in society at large, and not to be disheartened by all of this. Such is the will of the All-Mighty, and His plan is always the best.

The Preceptions of a 3-year old

The other day, my daughter turns to me while I am doing a mundane task like laundry, and says, "Mommy, if you get dead, then I won't have a mommy anymore." I nearly dropped what I was doing, and just turned to her and asked her to repeat herself. So she said it again. So I asked her, "Who told you that?" And she said, "I made it up myself." And I thought to myself, "Well, its a pretty accurate statement."

What do you do in situations like this? I don't want to lie to her, and tell her I'll always be around. While that is my hope and prayer - to watch her grow up, and be a part of her life always - we all know that at the end of the day, that decision only lies in the hands of Allah.

Its amazing how children are often the ones to remind us of who we belong to and how we only have limited control. We usually are so caught up in planning our lives for the future, working toward our careers, planning our families, etc, that we tend not to think about the possibility of our plan being different from Allah's. But more often than not, our plan is different than Allah's. Or rather, how certain circumstances turn out may not have been at all how we imagined it would be. And its how we respond to that plan that is the test. When His plan for us is even better than we could have imagined, being grateful is key. When His plan is different than what we planned, and outwardly may seem horrifying, remembering that there is a wisdom in it is essential. Finding that wisdom is often beyond our human understanding, but believing that it is there may be all we need to do.

Marriage, Fertility, and Patience

So there's been a lot on my mind this summer, and I've been meaning to write about it, but didn't know where to start.

I feel like in our parents' generation, particularly in the Desi culture, but probably also in the Arab culture, there is this perpetual obsession with marriage and fertility. For the first twenty-some years of a girl's life, her parents are obsessed with getting her married. And, if it doesn't happen on their expected timeline, they become more obsessed, more depressed, more psycho about it. Finally when the time does come, perhaps the girl breathes a sigh of relief that its finally time and her parents will back off. Only she will quickly learn that the silence will only be temporary, as their new obsession with her reproducing will now be the focus of their discussions with her. And if that doesn't happen on their expected timeline, discussions of infertility will surface. Isn't it interesting, this obsession with marriage and fertility? I really do feel like its specific to Desi (probably Arab too) parents. I feel like non-desi or non-Arab cultures aren't as obsessed with it. The attitude in America is so laid back about marriage. You're not considered "old" after you turn 25 if you're still single. Its so much more acceptable to be single. Or married without children. Or married without children for 10 years.

In the past few months, its something I've thought a lot about. At the end of the day, we all know that it is written for us, that no matter how hard we try, no matter what we do, when we get married or when we reproduce is entirely in Allah's hands. So why is that so hard for parents, and even us, to accept? Truly, this "waiting game" is a test of trust, but more importantly, a test of patience. I know a lot of single girls playing this waiting game - meeting prospectives every so often, maybe even getting their hopes up, only to be disappointed when it doesn't work out. Only to move on to the next prospective, but still finding faults in themselves for why they are not married. To complicate their lives further, their mothers and aunts and older relatives criticize their every move as well. "It's the fact that you're not lady-like. It turns boys off." "You're too aggressive, be passive in front of him." "You're too educated. It's intimidating." This constant obsession, and continual discussion in the home will drive any girl crazy and increase the pressure she is already feeling. And to say that it just wasn't meant to be, that Allah didn't will it, is just not a satisfactory explanation enough for them. Indeed, this is a test of patience. A test of whether or not you don't lose faith that there is someone out there. That you don't start wondering at the hundredth bridal shower you are invited to, "Why not me?"

Then there's the fertility issue. I know so many couples trying to conceive. Or who have just conceived after years of trying. Or who conceived when not even actively trying. Or who conceived and didn't want to conceive. Or who haven't conceived because they just want to live a child-free life for a bit longer. When I see some couples who want children so bad, and don't have them, my heart goes out to them. I can only imagine what every month must be like, waiting to see if your pregnancy test is positive. And what it must feel like to be disappointed. It doesn't help that most pregnancy symptoms are also PMS symptoms, so it is not too inconceivable that a woman wanting to get pregnant would get her hopes up every month when she feels bloated, or nauseated, or breast tenderness. And it also doesn't help that the elders keep reminding you of your non-pregnant status. "You should have all your kids close together. So that they grow up together." "Oh doesn't that baby look precious in your arms. Won't it be so sweet if you had one of your own?" "You know, so and so went to such ans such doctor for fertility treatment and it worked beautifully. Maybe you should try it too." This too, is a test of patience. Of struggling to be content with God's decision as you watch another month of trying to conceive pass you by. Of keeping your cool when someone gives you free advice about when, where and how you should conceive. Or asks you when you are going to start a family. Or expand your family. Of not feeling envious when you see yet another pregnant woman or a newborn infant.

Subhanallah these are matters that you have no control over. I know of one woman who tried for years, decades even, to have a baby with her husband. After several failed attempts of in-vitro fertilization, and fertility drug after fertility drug, they gave up. Only to discover that they conceived naturally after she was above 40. Now, mashallah they have a 7 year old son. Subhanllah, I hear that story and I feel so happy that they were granted this gift, but when I think of the emotional (forget the financial) trauma they must have gone through for the majority of their marriage, I have no words to describe how I feel. Its a very bittersweet feeling. There is another woman who tried for years to conceive and didn't so instead adopted. Only to find herself pregnant half-way through the adoption process. There are so many stories like this. They only prove that no matter how much you try, at the end of the day, the power lies with Him.

Its very easy for me to say that we all must trust Allah and be patient with what has been decreed for us, but I know it is one of the hardest struggles we experience as human beings. All trials that we are faced with have an underlying test of patience - whether you've been diagnosed with an illness and you're waiting to recover, or you've experienced a death in the family and you're waiting to move on, or you're waiting to find that one right person or waiting to see the pregnancy test line go positive - you're always waiting. And the true test is how we respond to the waiting game.

Contentment and Gratitude

I've been thinking a lot about contentment these days. What is contentment? What can one do to achieve contentment? Achieving contentment is one of the daily challenges Allah has presented us with. Is it just a problem specific to women, or both genders? In talking with all my girl friends, cousins, female relatives, I often think discontentment is a woman's curse. We're just never satisfied. Something good happens in our life and we're content for a short time, and then its time to improve it, to perfect it, to want more.

Allah has told us, ask me, and I will give it to you. Can this be abused? Let's say, for example, a couple wants to have their first child. So they pray, Oh Allah, if it is good for us, let us get pregnant. Then, when they get pregnant, their prayer is for a healthy, uncomplicated pregnancy. Then when its delivery time, their prayer is for a healthy baby. Then when the baby is born, their prayer is for a happy healthy child who lives a long successful righteous life. Then, when that baby is a few years old, their prayer is for a second child. And the cycle begins all over again. Can you ask for too much? Is this continuous cycle of asking being ungrateful for all the blessings you have already been given? Sometimes, I find myself praying to Allah, with my long list of duas, and I feel ashamed that I keep asking and that I can never ever ever be grateful enough for all the blessings I already have. I shouldn't feel ashamed, because He is the only one I can ask and He has promised to take care of us, but, at the same time, I feel like continuously asking for more and more and more is a form of ingratitude. Is this a form of ingratitude? Discontentment with the status quo? Am I reading into it wrong?

And then every so often, as a reminder, you meet someone in a worse situation than you, someone who has next to nothing, who is sick all the time, has no family, and experiences difficulty every day of their life, but that one person is more content than anyone else you know. More grateful for every day than you could ever be. And yet, we are made to forget these reminders as quickly as they come, so that we go back to our ungrateful selves.

And then there's the whole contentment with the self thing. My mother is a perfectionist. And perfection is never achieved in her eyes. So no matter what it was, it was always, you can do better next time, it's important to keep improving one self, etc. So if you do want to improve yourself, does that indicate that you are not content with yourself? And if you don't want to improve yourself, then you are content with yourself, but is that a good place to be Islamically? Islamically, aren't you supposed to be in a continuous self-improving process?

Just some things that have been on my mind for the past few days...comments would be appreciated.

The Call to Prayer

Every so often, while I'm eating lunch, or watching the sun set, if I'm lucky enough, I am able to hear the adhaan being called from the masjid by my house. The masjid is built so the call to prayer can be heard on the streets just as it is in a Muslim country. I say if I am lucky because the masjid doesn't turn on the loudspeaker every prayer, they only do it every so often. Last Friday I was lucky.

Subhanallah there is something about hearing the call to prayer outside of a masjid that is so calming. It's different if you're at the masjid already and the time for prayer comes in and the adhaan is called. Or if you're at home and you have one of the electronic adhaan reciters. But if you're just doing your own thing, at home, like eating lunch, or at the store, or wherever, and all of a sudden, you hear the adhaan being called from the local masjid - I can't even find the words to describe it. Perhaps I appreciate it so much because it reminds me of my experiences in the various Muslim countries I have visited, where that is part of the normal routine every day, every prayer. Or perhaps it is special because I realize that even ten years ago, hearing the adhaan like that would be unimaginable. Or perhaps its just hearing the call to prayer outside of a masjid - perhaps its just supposed to have that effect on you - where you stop what you're doing and just reflect on the words being recited.

I remember the first time I heard the adhaan in my house. We had just moved in a few months back, and one of the things I loved about my house was that I could see the masjid everyday from my windows. It was this perfect, unobstructed view from our window. It was Ramadan, and we were both up for sahoor, and it was getting close to Fajr time. We would try to make it to Fajr everyday at the masjid. One day, we were running a little late, and were in the last stages of making wudu. While I was waiting for Tariq, I started to hear something very familiar, and then strained very hard. Finally, I just opened the window, even though it was very cold. And there, so crystal clear, was the adhaan being called. I was blown away. I mean, to think, it was Fajr time, which means it was very early, like 5am, in Hyde Park, a diverse Chicago neighborhood, but not at all majority Muslim, to think that the adhaan is being called so clearly, enough that people even 4 blocks away can hear. I was amazed. But also late for Fajr at the mosque! Sometimes, though being late is a blessing, as in this case, where I discovered that the adhaan was not just heard in the masjid, but its call emitted outside as well.

Hold each other as you'd hold the Prophet's hands

The Prophet’s hands, silken smooth and soft to touch,
sometimes they need those hands so much,
to feel them clasp their own, let them know they’re not alone.
The Prophet’s hands, can bind husband and wife,
remind them why they share a life,
clasp them both upon his heart, gently help them make a start
to hold each other as they’d hold the Prophet’s hands.
- The Prophet's Hands, Dawud Wharsnby Ali

I think the above verse applies to our relationships with all our close loved ones, not just husband and wife, though I do think that is the relationship that is often taken the most for granted. In our relationships with our close loved ones, I think we often forget what a great blessing it is to be able to be in their company, to benefit from their good qualities and wisdom, and to be able to love them, and be loved by them.

If we could keep the beautiful words of Dawud Wharnsby Ali close to our hearts every time we interact with our loved ones, if we could learn "to hold each other as [we'd] hold the Prophet's hands" wouldn't our relationships be so much more meaningful, so much more spiritual? I feel like we often get so absorbed in fulfilling our daily obligations - work, school, homework, housework - that the stress we feel completing those obligations is transferred into our attitude toward our loved ones. So instead of being grateful, spending time, doing something meaningful together, we postpone that for another day and talk to each other curtly and in my case, sarcastically. Not as if this person is a gift from Allah that can be taken away in a moment. Most importantly, I've noticed that we tend to have more mercy when dealing with strangers, or acquaintances, and less mercy when dealing with our own family members. And treating our loved ones with love, respect, and most importantly, mercy is a duty that is much higher than any duty at work, or school, or household chore.

Something to think about, huh? May Allah reward Dawud Wharnsby Ali and all artists for reminding us of such a simple, yet easily forgettable duty.