2007: On Regret

For those of you who have lived here on a regular basis, you know that 2007 was a definitive year for me. In fact, I can now say that 2007 may have been the most definitive of my wee little life thus far.

Every single day brings us face to face with a dozen mini choices; on some days, the choices made define the essence of our character. For nearly six months in 2007, I was facing choices that lent a hand to shaping who I was and what I stood for. Not one of those choices was simple or easy. Most definitely, not one choice made was made with a light heart. But, each one of the choices I made in 2007, I would make again in a heartbeat. Every euphoria and every trauma and every deception and every single point of me, I would relive and relive with an open and trusting heart.

Although many of the people who I met in 2007 are no longer a part of my life (nor will they ever be a part of my life), I will always cherish the time in which they were a presence in my days. Thankful and grateful, too. People don't necessarily come into our lives to stay, but rather to help us and themselves reach another stage in our lives. They must leave because the lessons learned are ones that can only be learned once their presence is no longer felt.

That reality is only a sad and difficult thing to accept if you are not willing to see the good in every single situation.
If you choose to focus on merely the ugly and the painful, then you will not understand that at the essence of everything is goodness because you will be much too busy trying to make sense of a painting while standing with your nose pressed against it. Likely, you are more comfortable wallowing in how you have been wronged and how you are owed, rather than learning and breathing and living through the most difficult experience in order to improve who you are.

Likely, you live and then you regret.

But that's not the way I have ever functioned and it is most definitely not the way I will ever function.
For this, I must thank and cherish Islam, because the foundation I stand upon is one of Faith and Belief, and that foundation demands that I be thankful for every single thing that comes in to and potentially leaves my life. As a Muslimah, I must believe that I am blessed - in fact, that we are all blessed by virtue of being alive - and not merely pay it lip service. That alone is enough. That alone is enough to teach me that 2007 is a blessing.

More importantly than that particular concept in Islam, though, is the other, and that is: we should fear nothing in this world but Allah.

I have one too many times seen regret lead to fear, trepidation and bitterness. I've actually watched as someone wallowed in their past and actively denied their present. Fear of committing the same mistakes over which they currently wallow. Fear of being hurt.

But here's a little secret for you: you will always be at risk of getting hurt, so buck up and deal with it, already. Denying it won't stop it, but it will stop you from evolving. Worse still is that it is a terrible way to waste a short and wondrous life, this living in fear.

Remember that in order to regret, you must emotionally pull yourself out of today; you press the pause button on right now and you instead turn your mind's eye to yesterdays. (It's like 'nostalgia', which is more often than not, merely another way of communicating your displeasure with right now.)

And quite frankly, you shouldn't have time to do this because you need to concentrate on today. How and who you will help today. How you will improve today. How you are going to work today to make a better tomorrow. There is enough pain in this world for you to focus on, none of it having to do with your sad state.

Ultimately, "regret" is a means to self indulge and self spoil and many personalities are comfortable in that state. It is an irresponsibility that you level against your own potential and future. And just as you wouldn't harm your body physically, so too should you never stand in the way of your own potential and motion forward.

Here's the kicker, kitties (let's get ready to shed our egos): We must believe that everything in this life happens for a reason and that reason doesn't necessarily have to do with our life. Sometimes (and this you must accept if you perceive yourself as a functioning part of and contributor to the overall unity of society), we have to understand that we will go through traumatic situations for the benefit not of our self, but of others.

Crazier still is that we may never know how our pain helped someone else. And yet, we must accept it with open arms. (Odd this concept of altruism, n'est pas?)

But that takes strength.
And the question becomes: Are you strong enough?

Something F*cked Up This Way Comes

Have you read about this yet?

These are teenagers. They are no longer children. Although - clearly - their minds have not yet developed fully (and I can't help but wonder if with this much stunted growth already, what kind of stellar brain power they will have in the future), they are old enough to know what's right and what's wrong. Albeit a lacking one, they possess the ability to distinguish which actions are acceptable and which are not.

And yet...and yet...

And what of their parents?

Well. According to the Trash Mother of one of the Trash Teenagers, the Trash Teenager was provoked into this behaviour. Forget that the Trash Parent isn't sophisticated enough to make a distinction between justification and explanation, and is not attempting her speak to help us understand, but is rather using her Trash Tongue to justify her Trash Kid's actions...

Well done, mamas and papas. Well done! You get an A for A**hole. Thanks for the exceptional future you're building through your children.

And if the woman who was beaten did in fact post something inflammatory on her mySpace, then where the hell is her parental control? (Am I blaming the victim, here? Because. Seriously? Seriously. If she is indeed talking sh*t about the other kids, then her actions need to be brought under speculation so that the situation may be traced back to the source. Something, somewhere would have set this off. Something, somewhere went wrong and that - whatever it is - remains the catalyst for what we're seeing today. And if that very thing isn't rectified now, then this situation will never cease.)

If anyone wishes to dispute the level of control you can exert over your child - and that this is in no way to be associated with / blamed on / traced back to the mamas and the papas - then bring your stupid, disassociated, uneducated, wanting excuse for a life-view on. There is nothing I would enjoy more, at this moment, than discussing the messed up individualistic, alienist, Leviathenesque jack-ass behaviour of these teens and the direct correlation of this behaviour to their parents' lack of direction, lack of morality, lack of kindness, lack of humanity and lack of making clear accountability and responsibility. I can guarantee that these kids have never understood the concept of either the later.

...and an excellent Monday morning to you, sunshine...

Secretly wishing someone would "mist" Dr. Phil

.1. My body is still hibernating. It sees a potato and angels start singing.

.2. A "Bacetto" chocolate is not a Baci chocolate. They are both made by Perugina and they are both packaged in exactly the same way. They are also both hazelnut focussed.

Only: The Bacetto does not have a poorly translated and usually hilarious "fortune" within, leaving the chocolate eater to wonder if they accidentally chewed up and swallowed the paper fortune.

Don't be fooled and don't settle for anything short of a Baci.

.3. Someone gifted me "an aromatic spa refreshing facial mist [that is] ideal for toning the skin and awakening the senses!" (exclamation mark theirs not mine). It comes in a small spray bottle which one is meant to point at thine face and spray.

I did this and found it neither 'refreshing' nor 'misty', but rather aggressive and hostile.

I tried it several times, hoping I would soften and get used to the on-slough of spray. Only, the more I sprayed, the greater my recoil and shock at the force of the "mist", and the greater reason my skin will have to wrinkle as I scrunch it up in anticipation of the "pure essential oils of ORANGE & GRAPEFRUIT & natural GREEN TEA" (yelling theirs not mine). I was holding it up to my face this morning and I couldn't actually bring myself to mist; same paralysis I would encounter if I tried to bite myself (near impossible to draw blood unless you have psychological issues that would permit you to set aside your body's natural biological reaction to fight and ward off the potential hurt bla bla).

It may have to do with the fact that I sprayed a direct line into my left eye and nearly drowned myself in it because I forgot to close my eyes and my mouth and plug my nose.


.4. If you know an under-ten, please take them to see Dr. Seuss' Horton Hears A Who. It's one of the books I always gift under-tens and it's a message most adults could use to learn.

.5. I used to think Dr. Phil was good, until I watched a complete show around a month back and it hit me like a ton of bricks that: He's all about "owning your sh*t" and that this is a novelty in this day and age is the reason people like him so much.

So...essentially, the reason he's so popular is because we've turned into a society that does nothing more than enable crap behaviour, and when a normal thought pattern comes on to centre stage (such as: Own. Your. Sh*t.), we think it's some kind of miracle.

So. I'm officially removing my support for Dr. Phil because I think it's lame that we've propelled to stardom a dude who is selling what should be so obvious to anyone who thinks they are a functioning part of and contributor to a healthy society.

OWN IT, ALREADY. YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS BY NOW. IT SHOULD NOT BE YOUR END POINT, BUT YOUR FRIKING BASE-LINE. (And if you, for one second, believe that anything worth having can be found in a 42 minute show and without hard work and life-long commitment, then you're a bigger loser than...the biggest loser in the world.)

(It's like The Secret. It was NEVER a "secret". I'm rolling my eyes so hard that they look as though they belong in the head of the person sitting next to me and they've accidentally landed in my sockets and are trying to find their way out. Roll. Roll. Roll. Never. A. "Secret"!)

.6. In case you have yet to notice: I am intolerant today.

On Forgiveness & Apology

Lately, I've had to think a lot about how you forgive someone who hasn't asked for forgiveness. I've not worried about whether they think they owe me an apology, because my concern here is what goes on in my head and how that behaviour then translates on to those I care about.

I've finally realised that the answer is simple, even if the process to reach this answer has taken me an excruciating amount of time plus the energy of days spent writing this entry. Admittedly, this entry is a little all over the place and without clear lines because forgiving someone who has not asked for forgiveness has no clear lines, either.

Back to the subject matter at hand: I only now understand that the reason I couldn't find the answer was because I was asking the wrong question. I was asking how can I forgive?, when I should have been asking what is it that I have to forgive?

This confused me and hurt me and forced me to relive some of the ugliest moments in my life because, quite honestly, there are some actions that are: unforgivable. Your self respect - never here to be confused with pride - kicks the shit out of your stomach every time the thought of forgiveness enters your mind, your rationale rages against the forgiveness, your heart sobs when it even considers it and your entire body is shaken by the mere thought of the acts in question. The consequences of these acts can only be described as what a nuclear bomb would feel like if it were to go off inside of our bodies.

That's what happened to you; that's what you're trying to forgive...complicated and made uglier and more hurtful (I didn't think that could happen after a nuclear bomb, but it can) by the fact that the individual who has committed these acts has not acknowledged, has not owned, has not addressed the acts in question. And they've been presented with the opportunity to do so. They've been presented with it and yet, they have not done it. They have not apologised, for whatever excuse they have found to justify their lack of involvement. They believe they are above the apology. And by default, that then makes you unworthy of that apology. And that default, created and sitting somewhere in the back of their mind has absolutely nothing to do with the reality of you.

So. What if no one thinks enough of you to apologise? How do you forgive someone who hasn't asked for your forgiveness? How do you forgive this nuclear bomb that went off inside of your body and its residue?

Simple.

You disassociate the action from the antagonist.
You forgive the latter and you dismiss the former because it had nothing to do with you and because what you are forgiving is their weakness of character rather than their action. Forgive them because we are not born with this intention to hurt. Afford them that allowance, and nothing more ever again. Because this allowance, this allowance is huge and it should be the last one they ever receive from you.
And then: you must cut them out of your life, completely.
(Don't harbour ill will toward them because then it's as though you never really forgave. Carrying it with you hurts you more than anyone else, and the bottom line is: it's over. Don't be bitter about it. Just accept that you've walked away and end it there. Ultimately, in situations such as this, there are no winners.)

It's the combination of the act and their lack of apology that amounts to their losing the very real privilege of having you in their life in any capacity. That they were given the opportunity to apologize - short of you screaming into their face I NEED YOU TO APOLOGIZE TO ME - is what makes the situation and the environment one to which you can never return. And this is so difficult to face, it is so difficult to swallow, even if you're the one doing the walking. But you have to do it or you will always be incapable of demanding the respect that you are owed; and if you couldn't demand that respect after a nuclear bomb went off inside of your body and the individual didn't have the decency to apologize, then nothing is owed to you. And this is the consequence of your behaviour if you choose to go back to that environment in any capacity.

This - the loss of you - is the cost and consequence of that nuclear bomb plus their weakness that is their on-going and continuous inability, refusal, whatever, to not offer the apology.

There is only so much we can take. There is only so much we can put up with. And there is only so much room we can use to make excuses for others and for ourselves. Because, when they ceased understanding responsibility and accountability and honesty where you were concerned, that was the moment that you no longer became accessible, whether you realised it or not. Because, you are always deserving of an apology and when that apology doesn't come, then that lack of accessibility to you becomes tangible, and this is where you realise it. It's in this moment that sheets of ice water come at you and you are forced to face the disrespect that has been levelled at you. It is in this moment that you have to take a stand. And trust me, I have fought this moment and I have tried to argue myself out of this moment, but the ice water has become unbearable and my self respect finally told me that I either man up or I bitch out, and I'd like to think that the only bitches I have in my life are dogs...and I don't own any of them, either.

Why apologise?
Because, we are beholden to one another and the apology is the respect we show that reality and those we hold dear. And when someone doesn't apologize, it means they don't respect you and that means that all bets are off.
Because, we don't have the right to belittle the pain of others. And if someone is hurting because of us, then we owe them that apology. We owe it. And only the self-involved and arrogant would argue against that reality, and I don't much like for Ayn Rands in my life.

Even when, we don't think the apology makes sense: We. Should. Issue it.
Because, kindness to one another is all we have in the end.
And it is what allows us to sleep with pure hearts; it is what allows others to be at ease in our presence; it is what allows us to open our hearts to others.

Most importantly, the apology is what tells us that that individual has taken a moment to place themselves in our shoes. It shows that they care about us enough to think twice about what they've done. And when someone doesn't do that, then it means they don't care. And it means, you're not worth the second thought and it speaks volumes about your character if you let someone like that back into your life when they have crossed too many lines to name. Because the slots in your life that are saved for friends are slots better spent elsewhere. This lack of apology has rendered this individual: unworthy. Period.

But. But, the only way you can make the above statements without any level of hypocrisy is when you issue your apologies without hesitation, when they are immediate and unadulterated. It is only when you respect the pain of others that you are allowed to make the above demands of them. Note the word 'respect', because those who don't apologize are the people who don't respect us. (And I will always hold fast to my belief that the level of respect we show others is a direct extension and reflection of how much we respect our selves.)

And that is the way that I have always operated and it is the way I will continue to operate because it is one of the things that makes me a good person. I own my actions. I own my situations, each and every one of them. And I do not shy away from my responsibility to others.

That's not to say I haven't fucked up on colossal levels, because I have. What it is, is it is to say that I issue my apologies immediately, because I don't have the right, I don't have the right to hurt someone and then not issue that apology. I don't have that right. And neither do you.

And so: it really is that simple.

Forgive their weakness of character. And then, turn around and walk away because you don't owe respect to those who offer you nothing but disrespect.

To those of you who would harbour ill will toward someone after you have made the choice to forgive them, just remember that people aren't born with the intention to inflict pain. It's not how we're built, but rather what we become because of the choices we made in the past. And it is what we can cease to be in a moment if we so choose. In a moment, if we so choose.

Harbouring that bitterness only edges you closer to a world of greater pain, resentment and defensives. You build walls because you're too scared to be hurt again - but you will be hurt again, no matter what you do. It's a part of life and it's a part of the pleasure of this life because it's in these brutal moments of pain and hurt and in the way you overcome them that your character is defined. And here, you have a choice. You either face this life or you run from it. You either challenge it or you succumb to it. You either rule it or you are ruled by it.

Just like the choice to own your shit and apologise for it. You either own and define it, or it owns and defines you.

And two final notes to those of you who would not apologize: First, that the only people who are capable of hurting us on the level of a nuclear bomb are people who are close to us. Sometimes, they may be the closest to us - and so you know. You know us and you know that your actions hurt us. You don't today and you will never in the future have the luxury of saying "I didn't know". Second, understand that you are not perfect and your refusal to apologize has a particular stink of arrogance about it. Issuing an apology would be admitting to a mistake and a mistake means that you are less than perfect. And to be flawed is not what a 'perfect' person is, but trust in the fact that you were never perfect, that you are currently far far far from it and you will always remain just that far away. You might be well to not confuse confidence with the emotional retardation brought on by too much pride.

12 Feb 2008; Edit to add this link.

Lessons Learned

I learned that whenever I opened up my heart and made a decision based on love and hope, I almost always made the right decision, even when the result was a painful one.
I learned that one of the greatest challenges to our selves brings with it the greatest benefit to our lives and those we hold dear: looking at our actions, owning them, holding ourselves accountable and responsible at every turn and at every choice made.
I learned that an individual's character hinges on their ability to accept this very responsibility for their actions.
I learned that patience is truly a virtue and to one which I'm not naturally inclined.
I learned that the only people who are scared to "loose themselves" are those who don't know who they are to begin with.
I learned that Crack does, indeed, make me happy.
I learned that anger and resentment breed bitterness that changes every aspect of who we are and how we live.
I learned that everything is a choice.
I learned that I suck at poetry, though am a supreme rhymer.
I learned that in love, there is no room for pride...and where there is room for pride, it is not love.
I learned that the amount of respect you show others is a direct extension of how much you respect yourself.
I learned that walking on a crack in Crack won't break anyone's back but my own.
I learned that ending a conversation with "we agree to disagree" is quite possibly the best way to end a conversation with family.
I learned that forgiveness of an action does not equate absolution of that action.
I learned that when living honestly, you can live more in one day than most others do in one life time.
I learned that I am an optimist.
I learned that to be of sound mind and body are the most profound of blessings and it is these we most often take for granted.
I learned that starting from a position of fear, defensiveness and self-pity is just another excuse for one's paralysis.
I learned that if you really want it, you may have to spend the rest of this life fighting for it...and that's perfectly acceptable.
I learned that I have the most amazing parents in the world and they keep surprising me at every moment.
I learned that at the outset, no one needs to earn my trust because I give it freely; but when it's lost, it's lost entirely.
I learned that except for my facing God, absolutely everything in my life is up for change, if you can convince me.
I learned that when you shake someone's hand, you need to take off your glove if you're wearing it, stand up if you're sitting down, and take off your sunglasses if you're wearing them.
I learned that life goes on - usually stronger and bigger and warmer - no matter the trauma to our hearts.
I learned that evolution and dissent posed by one against themselves is a sign of a healthy mind.
I learned that f*cking things up once in a while is good for you because it teaches you, in no uncertain terms, of where you don't want to be and therefore where you need to go.
I learned that the perfect shade of red nail polish doesn't exist.

And...I learned that kindness is the currency of human interaction and no one likes a cheap bastard.

My Favourite Boy

Two of my cousins are in town from Denver this week. These boys are the closest thing I have to brothers and they have never once let me down. Naturally, we get into fights, as do all family members...but 99% of the time, we're solid. We share sibling mothers and so are quite aware of the attempted emotional terrorism and torment the sisters often wield; this serving as a special bond, much like the one shared by POW survivors. (I have to say here that I have an edge because mama's changed dramatically these last few months and is still doing just that; it was either that or further fragment our relationship. Maybe one day I'll post about this point in particular...I'm not sure yet.)

This is Homer (Omar):



He's had a pretty rough year about which I will only say that I, Alhamdulilah, am so thankful and amazed to see him so well and vibrant and healthy and back. I love this kid to death and I've yet to meet anyone with a heart the size of his. He's finishing up Business something-or-other and he'll own half of Denver some day - he's a hustler of the first order and can manage and charm anything and anyone. He also grows the world's tastiest tomatoes.

This is Major (Maher):



Currently working construction and soon to begin pre Med in January, Inshallah. It's been interesting having him around because he's matured so very much in this last year and a half and it's an absolute pleasure to talk politics, religion, family, friends, relationships and life with him. He's a sponge for knowledge, and I can see him in ten years being such a strong and solid man in the lives of those lucky enough to know him.

The only one that's not here at the moment is this guy (who you may remember was the first boy to ever send me flowers), Rock (Ragheb), the soon-to-be 'Homo Doctor' (currently in Tempe, Arizona studying at Southwest College of Naturopathic Medicine):



...this being my favourite picture of him because he's not even posing. Needless to say, women tend to drop trou around him and I'm sure the girl who took this photo passed out as soon as she went Click. (Re the beads, I think in Tempe there's something similar to Mardi Gras and chances are he started with a U-Haul of those necklaces.) He's here receiving a special blog entry because of how much support he's given me these last few months, and how engaged and patient he's been. He is my touchstone and my comfort blanket. Period. (When we're not chatting on the phone, he's offering me support via email such as found here.)

I can only here discuss him because the other boys are still developing who they are; I have no doubt that within the next few years, they'll be the same calibre of man as Ragheb...God knows they're well on their way. Also, I'm going to talk about Ragheb because it's to him that I'm closest. (And he knows all of my secrets.)

There are two things I admire most about Ragheb - apart from his obvious willingness to listen to me for hours and actually pay attention to what I'm saying and then provide feedback. First is that's he's a fighter, and from this comes a fierce confidence. I've never known him to back down, to be scared of anything, or to ever simply stop. Ever. Nothing to him is unattainable and it is amazing to learn just how engaged he is in this life. Even when he's f*cked it up - which we've all done - he's immediately stood up and forged a different road to get to where he needs to be. His only fear is one: God.

Second, he never imparts blame and instead takes full responsibility for his actions, absorbing the repercussions of his choices without so much as a sigh of protest. I am reminded of this at every conversation and I am pushed to be a better woman because of it. I've recently discovered just how critical it is to acknowledge all of the errors I've made as an individual and that find me where I am today. The moment we blame others is the moment we say: I am not responsible, I am not accountable. There's a fine line here between moments in life where we are truly not responsible, and those instances where we actively cede responsibility because it's the easier thing to do.

The bottom line is, we live and we learn and we make mistakes - for most of which we are responsible - and we move forward still. (I think the choice here is that we live our lives either blaming everyone else or acknowledging our engagement in the composition of who we are and where we are. Obviously, this doesn't mean that people don't wrong you, because sooner or later someone most definitely will, it just means that apart from you dealing with that particular wrong, those people are of no concern to you - your concern is your own character and how you treat people, even when you've been wronged.)

Back to My Favourite Boy. I've said this before and I'll say it again: the woman to whom he will be devoted is blessed, because for all of his fierceness, the core of him is of unshakeable devotion and loyalty.

I LOVE HIM.

Ok. I'm done gushing.

Keep your eyes on

Burma (the demonstrations yesterday ended in the death of one Monk) & Gaza (eleven Palestinian 'militants' - usually a title bestowed upon any opposing the actions of the State of Israel - killed yesterday & today. If history has taught us anything, it's that Israel will likely undertake a full-out assault on the Gaza Strip very very soon).

And remember that silence = complicity.

As you listen to the spin of the news - the free press that once served as a check and a challenge to the acts of a truly democratic government has now become the arm of all Sovereigns, and therefore representing all claims to self-determination as terrorist in nature - remember this following poem by, perhaps, one of the most powerful poets of our time Wislawa Szymborska.

In Praise of Feeling Bad About Yourself
The buzzard never says it is to blame.
The panther wouldn't know what scruples mean.
When the piranha strikes, it feels no shame.
If snakes had hands, they'd claim their hands were clean.

A jackal doesn't understand remorse.
Lions and lice don't waver in their course.
Why should they, when they know they're right?

Though hearts of killer whales may weigh a ton,
in every other way they're light.

On this third planet of the sun
among the signs of bestiality
a clear conscience is Number One.

Aside: If the above poem is how you always magically perceive your actions, then you need to take a closer look at what you've become and where you're headed.

Al-Sahar

'Al-Sahar' = Dawn
'Tasahur' / 'yitsa7ar' = Eating at dawn

Another tradition most of you would enjoy immensely during Ramadan is 'tasahur', which is the Arabic word describing the meal taken right before dawn (when fasting begins). During Ramadan, different customs take over in different parts of the Muslim world. For example, in most of the Middle East, you'll find the streets overflowing with families and friends heading out to eat at restaurants between 3.30 and 4 am. In Gaza, and due only to circumstance, families will eat together at home and listen to the radio (when they have electricity).

This specific time of day - when dawn breaks - Muslims believe to be unique. I'm uncertain as to whether this is lore or religion, but I do believe in the spirit world and so understand that there are things entirely beyond my comprehension; I believe that the significance of this time, is one of those things.

It's said that dawn is when the spirit world is most palpable to us in this world. (1) Prayers at this time are encouraged and it's only at this time that visions (the Arabic 'ru'ya' = the English 'vision', which is not to be confused with the Arabic 'hilm' = the English 'dream') are received. (2)

The last time I was in Gaza for Ramadan, this was also the time that Israel would drop the most bombs. Against my family's wishes, I would go to the rooftop with my sweet mint tea and watch the light show courtesy of Israel. I felt I owed it to those being murdered...it was all I could do...I would sit there, usually with tears in my eyes thinking of how blessed we were to be given another day of fasting while others who'd prepared their 'tasahur' never had a chance to enjoy the triumph of one more day making a reality this particular gift to God. (3)

Seedo was the only one who would be able to pull me back inside, and so everyone knew this, respected it and left us alone. Without saying anything to me, he'd come to the rooftop, open the door and I would go downstairs with him. He'd kiss me before I went back to bed, always taking my tea cup to the kitchen for me...

The next time you wake up anywhere between 4am and 5.30am, know that you're waking up with thousands of Muslims in North America eating and having their morning coffee and tea in preparation for their daily fast. Also: Be thankful that you're alive.

*****************************************************
(1) So then the spirit world has EST and Mountain Time? No...I think this means that wherever you are located geographically and in this dimension you can sense the spiritual world most when you are within the time frame of dawn. Anyway, the initial question is perhaps moot as it presupposes that the spiritual world runs on the same schedule of 'time' as we do, and this is a question we'll never be able to answer.

Seriously, yo, even Hawkings won't deny the possiblity of something beyond us, so open your mind a little bit...

(2) I'll eventually discuss the deep tradition of 'vision' interpretation in Islam which dates back to the Prophet.

(3) Because for all of the logic and reason behind fasting, the true reason for it remains unknown - it is the one pillar within Islam that God asks us to do for Him and Him alone. The 'reasons' given are all interpretations, possibilities, potential; a reflection of the human mind's endless need to answer the question: 'Why?'

Freedom!

Before you begin reading, please note that: Of course there is a middle-ground that below I’m not discussing. I’m speaking in the same extreme as that spoken by the window and the commercial mentioned. Understand that the state we are in is because of a backlash against the over interference of the Church and the moral arm and all of the history that has brought. But who the f*ck decided to throw the baby out with the bathwater? (I'm adding this as an after thought - Michelle pointed out that we can't point at only one thing here, and she's absolutely right. There are many factors to blame for our current state, only a couple of which are mentioned below.)

We went out recently, sat on a patio and I was this close to shooting myself.

One gem of an overheard conversation was the following:
“I just threw up in the bathroom.”
“But you still look good.”
“Thank God! I’m so lucky I can do that. Look. He said he thinks I’m cute and he wants to f*ck me.”
“AWESOME. He’s so hot.”
“Yeah. I think he likes me. I’m going to go with him.”
“What’s his name again?”
“Uhm. I can’t remember. Anyway, uhm, how are my chubs?”
“AWESOME. That’s totally why you picked up, bitch!”
“Right. I’m out.”

If I were to try and communicate either my pain or shame at overhearing this, I fear I may bring down my blog server.

Link to: Behold what we’re selling our young women (Be) and to our young men (Expect):



The above is a display window of a very popular shop in Ottawa. Notice, her jeans and underwear are around her ankles. She has wine bottles in front of her and her head placed on the toilette, clearly denoting the sexy state of inebriation that induces vomiting. The two background figures are one male and one female and written on the mirror is: “For a good time call….”

I stood in front of the display staring with my mouth open when a young woman came out, looked at me and said: “I know! It’s so cool!”

Instead of taking her down for her stupidity, I instead turned slowly to face her and declared “Noooooo. There’s nothing cool about this. It’s demeaning and degrading and a TESTAMENT. To just how low we’ve landed.”

She looked puzzled, gave me an awkward smile and walked away.

Link to: The latest birth control pills that are being marketed to an audience of very young women. The interesting thing about these commercials is:
The girls appear to all be aged between 16 & 22.
There are no men in the commercials.
They’re representing carefree lives; girls running on the beach, eating dinner out together, having coffee in the middle of the day, lounging around at home with magazines (heaven forbid it be a book), running out for a first job interview. All of them are smiling, laughing, unburdened and beautiful young people.

The first time I saw these commercials, I thought they were for a clothing or make-up company and was taken aback when I realized it was for birth control. N & I were seated in a movie theater the second time I saw them and she declared “Holy CHRIST! The girls look like they’re about 12!!”

I don’t care how many partners you have sex with, or how many drunken one-night stands you’ve had or in which way and for how long you’ve been taking the pill. And I most definitely don’t care if you’re male of female. Your life is your own and your responsibilities and consequence to your body are yours for the choosing. But if you wish to declare that you can have sex without any emotional connections or blowback then to you I actually say bullsh*t, because our bodies, our skin have and hold memories. More importantly, they have rights over us and so inherent in that is the fact that your physical being is not an entity that you can – no matter how hard you try – detach from the rest of you. But that’s not what this entry is about – and if you are proud of the fact that you have casual sex without emotional connection, then it is your right to sell yourself so cheaply and there is no place for that on this blog.

Right. So what’s troubling me about the above is the greater theme of casual sex lifestyle void of worry and stress, when in reality, pregnancy may in fact be the least worrisome consequence of sex. ‘Least’ when compared to the psychological, emotional, spiritual, and sexual disease consequences of sex within the particular context presented by the above two references to ‘lifestyle’.

As already mentioned, there are no men in these commercials and so no hint at relationships. If, as adults, you wish to go out and have random sexual relations, then fine – but that’s not the audience being targeted. They are anything but adult. (I remember being a 16 year old ‘adult’ very well because that was the summer all of the girls in my high-school started having sex. I also recall – crystal clearly – the traumatic consequences most of them encountered because of that choice; None of them having anything to do with a pregnancy scare.)

I don’t think it would be insane or far-fetched to say that at that age one is completely vulnerable and their identity still being formed. As equally important are their perspectives on relationships and sex (be it within or without a relationship). Here I discuss both boys and girls.

To those of you considering someone like I a throwback to the Stone Age, I say better the Stone Age than what I’ve seen as of late. And please note: anything I say re girls, I argue equally for boys. If there were a pill for boys targeted in this fashion, I would make exactly the same arguments. If boys were being represented in shop displays in this manner, I would fight against that equally.

Speaking only for myself here, I will say two things. First, to those who are great advocates of the pill, I’ve read all of the arguments and understand them, though I don’t accept or agree with most of them. I have no problem denying entry into my body chemicals of the sort found in the birth control pill. What you choose to ingest is your business, but do not try to misrepresent the context of something that is so much more than a wee little pill to what are, essentially, children.

Second, I fully expect that the man who is going to love me isn’t a man who would want me to take the risks associated with birth control. (e.g. ‘Crazy girl’, ‘no sex drive girl’, ‘my body will never again be able to produce natural lubrication girl’, etc.) Just as it would be my duty to make certain he took care of his health and avoided harmful substances, I expect him to be doing exactly the same where I was concerned. These are my standards and mine alone, and this last bit - to me - would be one of the measures of a ‘man’.

But heaven forbid we hold ourselves to any sort of a standard that falls short of complete hedonistic freedom. People should have the “freedom” to have sex with whomever and whenever, at the age they choose. Because they should learn the meaning of responsibility…even though I am not exercising any. I’m so proud.

Proud enough to head back down to the store display and stand in front of it with a big banner that reads: YAY! I’M LIBERATED! I’M FREE! AND I DON’T CARE THAT MORE THAN HALF OF THE WOMEN IN THE WORLD OVER 15 CAN’T READ OR WRITE! I CAN SHOP, YO!

I DON’T CARE THAT WOMEN PRODUCE 80% OF THE FOOD ON THE PLANET BUT RECEIVE LESS THAN 10% OF AGRICULTURAL ASSISTANCE! I CAN GET TRASHED ON TONS OF LIQUOR, BABY!

I DON’T CARE THAT WOMEN ONLY OCCUPY 2% OF SENIOR MANAGEMENT POSITIONS WORLDWIDE! I CAN SLEEP WITH THE OTHER 98%! WOO-HOO! HURRAY FOR ME WITH MY PANTIES AND jeans…around my ankles? And uhm, whose that guy behind me? And is that my number? And is that my girlfriend looking over me? Not interfering because, uhm, that wouldn’t, like, be right to tell me how to behave, would it? I mean...would it? And will you come to the sex clinic with me because I’m bleeding and I don’t know why.

But heaven forbid…heaven forbid…we ever say ‘no to anything’ because ‘yes’ has brought us so much good.



*Thank you to Woman Kind.

I Double Dare You

Due to certain circumstance, I have - in the last perhaps month - been having bouts of complete and total rage. Wicked anger the likes of which I have never before felt and hope I never feel again. When this has happened I usually look like this:



...only with a mobile to my ear while Naomi's on the other end talking me down. Talking me down. Talking me down. For that, I would like to thank her publicly as apparently she has been quoting direct from my blog to her partner Jason. A big hello to Jason also.

The first time she did this we spent nearly three hours on the phone with me in the middle of a field next to Lulu at different times crying, pounding, being pissed off, being fair, being unfair, being ridiculous, being filled with resentment, being demented, and being completely on the mark. Naomi was absolutely incredible.

When I've come off the phone with her and am calmed, I look into my mind's mirror and demand a response to: "Now list all of the mistakes and stupidities you committed to find yourself in this situation. Also, place yourself in their shoes and try to see what they see and understand their hurt. Because you are not innocent in this.", because the only way to deal with rage of this sort, I think, is to never allow it a scapegoat. To instead know that it takes several to tango and impart the reasons for that rage to all parties, including - and possibly before anyone else - yourself.

Otherwise, hate takes over our hearts and leaves no room for all of the other great emotions we're capable of feeling. We become stuck like a sad little turtle on its back, waiting for a hero to save us. Only, there are no heroes in this world outside of ourselves. If we will it, anger serves as an ugly corner in our minds and the longer we allow it to remain there, the more solidified the corners become. Then sooner, rather than later, they cease being corners and start becoming our very centres around which we build everything, against which we measure everything and the points from which we begin every movement.

So. I refuse to be Angry Girl, and luckily she left some time last week and was replaced by Happy Girl w/ Crayons. My life is too good and my heart is too big and I will not shrink it for anything. Not a thing. In fact, I'm working to make it bigger. Stronger. Nicer. Kinder. Prettier. And give it more crayons. (I understand I sound mildly retarded here, and that's ok.)

I recommend you do the same. Only the weak of spirit and heart will shy away from this. A line's been drawn and you have to decide on which side you stand; Your heart and mind are either courage filled or cowardice led. Choose.

It's far easier to project and hate (insert item / television show / individual / colour scheme) rather than to face the facts. (If someone beats you up while you're minding your own business, feel free to hate and rage and become Jodie Foster in that new movie the name of which escapes me where she's married to or about to be married to the guy with the greasy hair who everyone but me seems to find sexy and he just makes my stomach perform acrobatics.) So consider this a dare. I dare you to: Sift through your mind and find the corners - or for some, cores - where hate lives. Then face that hate, wrestle it, understand the 'why' of it rather than the 'who', look at the actions you took to make the situation turn into one of rage and then squash it. Squash it whole. Refuse it's poison into the rest of your body - most especially your heart - and search for the good instead. It will make you cry and stamp your feet and want to kick the sh*t out of someone, but you need to stop your whinging and do it. DO IT. For the sake of you and everything about you, believe Nike (slave driving wankers) and Just Do It. (Insert swoosh.)

I'm not done just yet because this dare has a second part. As soon as you have completed the first dare, I then dare you to forgive as determinedly and as wholly as you did facing that anger and that hate. Forgive the one who inflicted it, forgive your actions that facilitated the situation. Forgive completely. And then breathe in the enormous relief your heart feels when it instantly discovers the massive amounts of room you've just cleared out within it. In mine, I will soon be able to place a gigantic colouring table the size of which no one's ever seen.

Now Go. You have dares to meet.

I love you all. (Except the wanking PIGS!, Liars and Cheaters.)

On The Cheaters

Monday of this week, one of The Girls, T, discovered that her husband of eight years is a big fat lying cheat. We've not discussed the details, because to discuss his actions at length would be to provide him more worth and time than he deserves. He's the unfortunate one and so it is he who needs to worry about the deficiency of his own character, not T. Suffice it to say that for years, he's been actively engaged in a relationship with another woman who has feigned friendship with T. T found out by sheer accident.

In his unsophisticated and base mind, he's convinced himself that his love for this other woman will sustain him. They've built a long distance relationship which is ideal and quite fitting for two Cheaters, because it's the one sort of relationship that's built on sheer conjecture of their coming together. There’s nothing offered of real life but virtual action and time-delayed reaction. It's perfectly suited for all sorts of lies and fake character definitions, ergo perfectly suited for the two fungi engaged within.(1)

Some may eventually wonder about the state of T & The Lying Cheat's relationship in an effort to look for reasons to justify what happened...

I refuse to provide a character sketch of either the relationship or of T as this is not at all about either. About T, I will say that she too lives her life in crayon and if ever there was a woman full of life, light, love, devotion, faith, kindness and humor, it is T. If I were a man, she is the one I would pursue before any of my other friends.

T is one of my best friends and I am of the fiercely loyal variety and so feel the need to discuss this (with her full permission to do so publicly). The following is in great part a direct communication of my passing judgment and so if you are a Lying Cheater, then I offer you absolutely no apologies and I seriously recommend that you not read any further.

Individual Moral Deficiency
When things go wrong, it’s much easier to offer the excuse of reaction and blaming of our partners. So, for example, The Lying Cheater will most always say: “S / He made me. They were always gone. They mistreated me”. Few will be brave enough to say ”I fell in love with someone else. I cheated. I offer no excuse for my actions. I’m sorry” (to whom I would only say that when you are in a committed relationship then you need to respect the sacredness of that union by removing yourself from places of temptation. All of them, beginning with the real and ending at the virtual).

(Here there’s a deeper malaise. It’s the ease by which people move from one relationship to another, from one emotional connection to another, and from one bed to another. We no longer believe in the sacred, of which is the commitment we make to our partners. Instead, so many throw around the word ‘love’ as though it is void of meaning and subsequent action. Moreover, many don't possess either the capacity or the courage to be alone until a worthy partner comes along, settling instead for a time waste of a relationship that furthers one's abiity to detach...an ability I would argue serves no value when it comes time for you to deal with honest love.)

If your original partner is abusive, then you should hold sacred your choice to commit – regardless of how hurtful they may truly be – and remove yourself from your relationship before you embark on another. Naturally, there are many abusive individuals who don’t deserve any respect (but much jail-time) but when you cheat on someone, your measure should never be their behaviour, but rather your own moral code.

Ultimately, if they are abusive, I’m sorry for the situation in which you may have found yourself. Their abuse is as much a reflection on your moral character as is your cheating on theirs. See: There’s nothing there. There are no links and there are no ties that bind in terms of moral conduct. Please note that I am not equating the two actions in any realm of moral conduct; suffice it to say that we should aim to compare our actions with those who are stronger than us, rather than to those who are weaker.

Societal Moral Deficiency
The more I’ve thought about this the less surprised I am by the fact that we tend to have the above backwards; rather than understanding that an individual’s action is a reflection of them, we blame an individual’s actions on the society they’re a part of. We lie to ourselves and convince ourselves that ‘society’ exists on its own, above and beyond the actions of the individuals within (much like the legal actions of a Corporation). It is the lazy man’s unsophisticated approach at understanding our environment.

We live in an era where “anything goes” and where the measure of a person’s character is no longer of real value. Where words hold no merit and are equally void of grammatical structure as they are of action. This is not to say that we can always keep our word, but we better damn well be prepared to go to war – even with ourselves – in order to try and keep our word. Unfortunately, the reality here is there's never a guarantee that you'll win.

But I digress. Individual responsibility for action is no longer an integral part of how we view ourselves; quite possibly why so many of us have trouble saying “I’m sorry” or “I behaved irresponsibly”. Heavily bi-polar because we are at once so busy being “Individuals” and giving into our “individual” basic desires yet equally blaming others for all that befalls us. I think that perhaps the root of this is that – as a collective – we have done away with individual responsibility (“I cheated because they were (insert any one of an infinite number of excuses)”).

We no longer honour responsibility to lovers, to parents, to children, to friends, to members of our global community…responsibility to our history and our future. (If some of you are looking for “responsibility to ourselves”, then you need to widen you self-awareness and value that all of the above are the fabric from which you – the individual ‘I’ - are a composite you short and near-sighted weirdo.)

We love in a world where we’re told repeatedly in film and television that we should obey our most basic instincts, satiating all our desires. Responsibility be damned. Our guiding light is no longer honesty, responsibility and measure of consequence, but rather, the push to be uninhibited. The act of being unfaithful is (more often than not) depicted as pleasurable and racy and dangerous and fun. And why shouldn’t we have fun? Why should we ever deny our desires, right? We are, after all, just animals, and these feelings are there for a reason.

Nonsense. As much as we try to deny it and turn away from it, we owe a level of deep responsibility to each and every individual we come in contact with – and if that means that we shouldn’t give into our most basic of instincts because of that responsibility, then we simply: should not behave in a manner short of the ideal. And if you don’t know what that is, then use the old adage that you should not do to others what you would not have done to you.

I listened to T weep into the telephone. I heard her use the word ‘shattered’ to describe her state, and let me tell you, you loathsome, repugnant, vile, base, despicable excuse for a person, there is nothing racy or fun or pleasurable about the pile of rubbish you have dislodged onto the lives of others and I hope you catch something that begins with the letter 'H' and rhymes with Slurpees.

...and what of the rest of us? I guess all we can do is make certain that our moral code of conduct is not dulled, blurred or changed by the acts of others. More to the point, I think we have to do our best to instill these values in our children (Inshallah, should I one day be blessed with them).

Speaking for myself, I know that my moral character can infinitely use improving and I would humbly suggest you consider doing the same because ‘society’ is another way of describing the same string held to by each person in this entire world. Our responsibility is to make certain that where we see the string is frayed and near breaking around us, we mend it to the best of our ability.

I am now climbing off my soapbox and on to Lulu for a calming ride.

& P.S. To The Unfaithful who would say: But it just sort of happened, then to you I send the Greatest Emotional Flaccidity Award.

& P.S. to the P.S. Don’t even get me started on the f***wits who cheat on their entire family.

& Ugh, one last P.S. to those 3rd Parties, who are being cheated with; what makes you think you're special enough, that the man/woman you're with (the one whose already cheated on a partner to be with you) won't do it to you...when there's someone younger, or richer, or more charismatic, or taller, or kinder, or sexier, or plain old different than you, what they have become used to? If this thought's never crossed your mind, then I hope this last P.S. will ring in your head every single time your partner goes out and comes home even 5 minutes late. (Now that you've read that, 3rd Party, you'll never be able to shake it - and likely, it may have already made your stomach turn. As it should, because you too are a sh*t.)

********************
(1) Of course one can have a normal long distance relationship. But one must be cautious, I believe...or make an effort to fly out and see the other on a very regular basis and during which they spend 'normal' time together rather than 'holiday' time where it's all fake fun. The former will work to guarantee that should your relationship last and move to a stronger stage, you won't be shocked when your partner behaves like a normal person. The latter will spoil you and your expectations. Neither of these realities should come as a surprise and one should keep them at the forefront of their minds should they enter into a long distance relationship. Bla bla bla.

The Fat Baldies

Daily, ask yourself about

Your life: How you lived that day.
Your knowledge: What you learned and how you applied it.
Your money: How you acquired and spent it.
Your body: How you used it.

Try to make it a habit and always forgive your mistakes and your trip-ups, and then make certain to work away from whatever you've recognised as hurtful to yourself, this environment and others. Remember: we are only human and we will always make mistakes, no matter their devastating stupidity.

I have a very simple rule of thumb (that I don't always follow, but I try...): Behave in a way that I can tell my children about, and/or in a way that I would understand from my children. Today, I can honestly say that there isn't one moment in my life (as of yet and Inshallah never) that I would be ashamed to share with my babies when they're older. Granted, some stories would need much more context setting, but there's nothing I can think of that I would willingly hide from them.

Even though I may never have children, I believe a parent represents - quite literally - the world to a child. The poorer the behaviour of a parent, the more difficult it will be for the child to engage in a healthy environment. I could be wrong, but I don't plan on testing the theory out on my kids. This has nothing to do with genetics or "access", but rather everything to do with obligation, ethical standard, self-awareness and determination.

Often times, our obligation to ourselves falls to the side and we behave in ways that are nothing short of emotional and physical self-mutilation. When you throw a child into that mix, something should change about how we live our lives and how much damage we're willing to inflict on ourselves and inescapably, on those for whom we are responsible.

This may very well be meaningless as I am not yet a parent and should it happen, I hope that both myself and my husband are people of whom our children may be proud. People they respect and turn to for advice before anyone else. No matter how much we love our friends and how 'familial' we may think we are, our love for those individuals is nothing compared to the love of their parents. I don't think we can fully comprehend the depths of that until we are parents ourselves (even the worst of us). Remember the simple Chinese proverb that reads: "To understand your parents' love you must raise children yourself".

I remember a very important conversation I had and during which I made the following blanket statement: "My daughter can't marry whoever she wants".
In retrospect, I think 'WTF?' Of course my daughter(s) and son(s) will be able to marry whomever they want, because a parent's duty and obligation has nothing to do with exerting control over their children, and it most definitely isn't playing the role of an emotional ter*orist in their lives. It is to provide them with the tools and the guidance to choose properly or improperly for themselves and to always and unflinchingly have parental support - if not approval. But in order for me to get to the point where I can write this and see it clearly, I needed to understand where and how that sentiment was rooted in my mind in order for me to investigate it, undo it and then make certain there were no seeds left. This process took some time, but I'm definitely the better for having lived it; I'm sure my children will laugh at me when I tell them I once thought I would / could control anything in their lives.

As with any relationship, parents bring baggage into theirs with their children and if not careful, the consequence is all-consuming for all involved. I've seen the blowback and the crippling effect of this situation because we are always children and we are always developing. The healthy mind and life belong to those who are constantly working on that development. Much too often, we separate our childhood from our adulthood, as though they can be separate, like 'childhood' actually ends and 'adulthood' has a Go block. I don't know if we do this because we have a very rigid concept of Time, but I don't think the 'why' is important, but rather, the recognition that 'childhood' is 'adulthood' only evolved; childhood can never be separated from the rest of our lives as though it exists in a bubble, because it is the very blueprint of who we become. (I could here discuss causality and probability, but I won't. Instead, I'll merely say that even though changing that blueprint is a very arduous task, it is not an impossible one.)

The best way to imagine this is to see our lives not as existing on a single linear plane, but as a circle of ink that has ebbs and flows of life 'moments' that run into one another infinitely.

Take on the responsibility even when you're not facing it just yet. Become the person you wish to be for the sake of the fat baldies you'll one day stare at in fascination as they poop and toot themselves into surprise.

The Cave of Spastic

Right. Ok, well, what follows is a simple rule of thumb for those of you who live here. If ever you feel the need to draft an email to someone...an email where you don't really know what to say, or how to say it, or even if you should say it, I strongly advise that you never populate the To field with the maybe-maybe-not-someday-recipient's email address.

A = You know to whom you are writing.
B = You know their email is in your Address Book.
C = You've memorised their email address because you're just that type of person. (Type 'Crazy'.)

Ergo A + (B and/or C) = You really don't need to populate that field. Trust me, for I am an archaeologist discovering the depths of The Cave of Spastic.

And today, I discovered that there were - much to my surprise - many deeper levels to The Cave.

Anyone wish to take a guess as to what these new depths may be?

They are the "I've hit the Send button instead of the Delete button" as well as the "I've hit the Send button instead of the Save button" because we all know that the first Spast-acular act is meaningless without the second equally, if not more so, Spastic move. Why stop at one when two provide double the insanity, double the fun and double the pleasure? Because when you short-circuit twice, you are guaranteed (and isn't this our aim?) troth to the title of "Crazy Girl".

This is a title I embrace today and to which none of you can have access until you find greater depths in The Cave of Spastic.

I have a tiara and plan on purchasing a wand on my way home SO BACK OFF.

---------
(1) Should you err in this manner, you are always welcome to follow the email(s) up with a comical two liner such as
"I meant to send that to George Clooney / Angelina Jolie / Jesus / my belly button.
really."
(2) Ibid.

Healing & gratitude by example

I'm learning and I don't plan on stopping until I drop dead...

Healing
As "Support" for my girlfriend, I went to a Narcotics Anonymous meeting last night. It was my first time and I was moved to tears by the stories shared. Sitting among the participants I realised that I was a sort of a**hole for ever wallowing in my own "misery" when the pain of others was so incredibly palpable and next to which my own became nothing short of a spoiled brat's self-pity. I was surrounded by individuals who were so grateful to be alive, individuals who lived day by day, battling themselves so they could be aware of what they once were and who they are today. Individuals who faced themselves and who were thankful for the ability to do so. Their battle to heal and their road to recovery is: fearless self-awareness.

I have a friend who, since our early twenties, I've watched live in rage and anger. I never said anything but I'd always felt that anger was a mask for something far more painful, something I've never been able to clearly see in order to articulate. After last night's meeting, I finally understood that her anger serves to mask a deep and sometimes immeasurable pain and sadness. I also realised that it is the path we walk if we wish to avoid forgiveness.

I walked around for a couple of hours after the meeting and I found the strength to honestly face myself as I am today and the kind of woman I want to be tomorrow. I once said to someone I love that: "I'm always waiting for the other shoe to drop" and in essence that meant that I was always waiting to be hurt. But last night, I decided to throw that out. I threw it out because I don't like that girl. I used to think it was a means of self-preservation, but last night I realised that although that was a part of it, it was also my defence against / fear of both hurt and pain. By living that sentiment I was living as someone wounded. By what, I couldn't tell you...and even if I could, it's likely not something I would share.

Last night I understood the reality that in order for us to live, we must allow ourselves to feel all emotions, including pain and fear, in all of their extremities. With the dulling or avoidance of any emotion comes the severing of others, whether we want that or not. I won't lie to you, I'm terrified to hurt and I'm scared to see what's inside, but I do welcome it, if for no other reason than because I now refuse to let fear or pain direct my life or my feelings. If anything is going to direct my life, it's going to be love and nothing short of...

O articulated it best when she said "Place fear behind you, love in front of you and run like hell".

Gratitude
During the sharing period of the meeting, a younger man spoke to the idea of gratitude. He explained how he used to get sick and tired of hearing the words "I am so grateful I am here" until now. Now that he too is grateful to be waking up in the morning and remembering the day previous. Now that he too is grateful to live and breathe and possess the capacity to see his own life unfold before him. Now that he is able to manage his disease.

It brought to mind an old Arab proverb that mama taught me: "On the heads of the healthy are crowns seen only by the ailing".

Although gratitude for and in this life is a sometimes rare commodity, it's one we need to aspire to daily if we are to live healthy and stable lives built on the present rather than the "what if" of a future yet undecided and the "I wish I had" of a past no longer accessible.

I'm trying...and on the day I die, I'll try to post an entry to let you know how I made out in this world and before I head to FOREVER AND EVER LAND...

Make certain you download

Overkill by Men at Work.

NOTHING compares to the 80s.

Quote of this day

“If you start thinking about other people’s faults, you’re just a fool. The point is to get rid of your own.”
- Hamza Yusuf
Purification of the Heart, CD 3

Dealing with emotional stress

To clarify: No one can break your heart. That’s my starting point and it’s the only honest point of self empowerment. No one breaks our hearts, but rather, we allow our hearts to break. More importantly and more often that not, we play a majour part in breaking our own hearts.

This does not mean that there aren’t individuals who willingly – and enjoyably - inflict pain on others. Like the undeniable existence of the chickadee, there too is the undeniable existence of the Meanies who enjoy the trauma and hurt they cause others.

Most individuals we come in contact with are, simply put: ‘Goodies’. I’m sure that if they were edible, they would be sweet and soft and buttery. But they’re people and so I we hesitate to bite them; should they find me us trying to eat their elbow, they may be mislead into thinking I we are a little weird.

I think there’s much to be said in the way we choose to approach the particular subject of emotional stress or pain. Here are the four recommendations I have to offer…

First: Ring up your 4 best friends and cry on the phone without saying a word. I know that no one told you this, but this is really what friends are for. That and for buying you birthday gifts. Maybe in the shape of Crack. Ultimately, no one wants to cry alone and so it’s best to ring The Girls and weep. The occasional moan is also highly recommended. By the end of the day, your eyes will be a beautiful shade of red – were they rouge, they would be sold out – and they will be super tiny and you may even have the appearance of a different ethnicity which is always fun. Even cooler is that your hair will be extra frizzy; something you can’t buy in a bottle. Your sinuses will be clear and you will have a new found respect for the capacity of your mobile to function while drowned in tears.

Second: Accept and live the Regular Pain that comes with any sort of mourning. No matter the trauma, allow yourselves to mourn for three days and wear white, or if white doesn’t suit you, make certain to wear bright colours that reflect sunshine. Ultimately, people drop dead and we can get over it; surely we can get over anything else that’s thrown our way, n’est pas?

Avoid and do not let entry into your hearts and minds the self-inflicted Super Dooper Pain. We like to self-pity because self-help books and therapists and today’s values teach us that it’s okay to self-pity. It may even make us pretty. Frankly, there's nothing sexy about self-pity and it offers no self empowerment and no ability for movement, growth or self realization. When you ‘oh woe is me’ your life away, you’re placing yourself in a position of spiritual and emotional paralysis and stagnation. Stop it. Cut it out. Oh woe is you is unacceptable. It’s meaningless and detrimental to your beautiful self.

If you really must, then do it for no more than three days (I'm not kidding!). Then get out and go for a long walk and brush it off. If you have a friend who is Oh woe is her/he-ing, let them mourn for no longer than three days and then pull them out of their funk and force them to take a walk. Take them to a park, to a café, a restaurant, a movie…whatever. Don’t let them sit at home in isolation unless you want them to fall into a state of depression. Seriously, yo, this is not a joke.

Third: Self empower your a**. No one caused you heartache. Someone may have contributed to your sadness, but that’s it. Look at you; look at your actions and ask yourself what steps you took to bring this home to you. When you’ve seen that, then you can really work to dig yourself out from the hole in which you sit.

To me – because this is my blog - self empowerment means that I never stand by and let things ‘just happen’. I don’t believe in that sort of nonsense. If you’re the sort of individual who willingly and passively stands by and lets someone or something run amuck with your life, then you need to refocus and get perspective where you had none. Immediately. Blaming others for the circumstance of your life is a weakness. It’s a copout and a cheapening of who you are; even worse, it’s your perfect excuse to never grow.

My friend Al recently told me that when people invoke the “but I love him/her” clause, it causes a break in the conversation. He's absolutely correct; it serves as an excuse to justify misbehaviour and all emotional self-mutilation which ensues.

Before you next find yourself sobbing and blowing your nose at an unprecedented rate while declaring “but I love him/her”, please make certain to remove that statement and replay the conversation. This exercise will force you to see whether or not the actions are acceptable on their own merit. Don’t invoke the “but I love him/her” clause because it won’t do sh*t but turn you into a slave to your emotions. When all is said and done, you want to rule your emotions, becoming the master of your emotional domain, and not vice versa. This is what it means to have an elevated character and it is to this elevated character that each and every one of us should aim.

I will be the first to admit that I'm not there yet. I don't know if I ever will be, but I owe it to myself and to my heart to aim higher than my current station.

From this vantage point you can now open your eyes to your own actions. You’re at an impasse here and you can either choose to bemoan your state or to rectify it in no uncertain terms. If you choose the latter, then carefully choose the materials you will use to build who you are as an individual. The materials you use should be materials that will, as already mentioned above, elevate you instead of allowing you to regress.

Just remember; we can always ask more from ourselves and we can always deliver if we so choose. Nothing can come to fruition unless we want it to, and the only way to want something is to want it with an unshakeable heart filled with conviction.

Fourth: Remember that God never gives us more than we can handle…and the greater the challenge, the luckier we are. The greater the hurdle, the stronger we become. What may feel like a disaster today will be the hope that you use and on which you build your future.

Please note: None of this is meant to belittle the pain and trauma caused by the a**hole Meanie cheating on their partners and children.

The Trumping of Crack

I am so excited! And most of you will have trouble believing this.

But first, add to the original Rules of Life the following, please:
.1. Pursue knowledge. Always and forever.
.2. Never think that you are complete, or that you are good enough or that you can not be bettered.
&
.3. When you feel the need to compare yourself to someone, make certain that the person chosen is better than you; for to improve yourself, you must always aspire to those greater than you.

So…last week, I’m walking around the Crack section of a majour department store one of the foundations of CANADA that is now owned by Americans when a stunning pair of Crack caught my eye.

Imagine it: Wedge heels vertically striped with half a centimeter of taupe and then half a centimeter of candy apple red. Beautiful. But it gets better! They are an open-toed sides-open back-closed lacquered candy apple red. AND they had a little bow at the back of the shoe, right where the top of the lacquered red touches your skin.

Quite literally, I salivated.

The cost was normal; Crack does not come cheap, and this Crack was $138.

I walked away and came back and thought about it and tried them on and walked away again and played a little peekaboo with the Crack while no one was looking or so that’s what I tell myself, anyway. I may have even winked a little wink and blown a little kiss Crack’s way, but no one can prove anything.

I decided not to purchase the Crack because I chose to pursue knowledge instead. Now, as you know, I’ve been getting to know Islam for the past little while and will continue to do so Inshallah for the rest of my life, knowing fully-well there will be ebbs and flows in the voracity of that pursuit.

The knowledge I chose to pursue, the cost of which was near $200, but the reprecussions of which will render me a smartie pantes? Your webMama will soon be the proud owner of :

.A. “What Happened to Poetry? ” A discourse on the disappearance of poetry by the director of the Zaytuna Institute in California, Shaykh Hamza Yusuf Hanson.

.B. “Foundations of Islam” Insightful, intellectual presentation about Islam made to non-Muslim educators. Topics include: How the Quran Was Revealed and Compiled Pillars of Practice, Articles of Faith, Concept of Ihsan, Signs of the Last Day and more.

.C. “Islam In America: A Panel Discussion”

.D. “A Return to the Spirit: Questions & Answers” This final work of the greatly revered Martin Lings opens with an insightful autobiographical account of his own interior journey, the finding of a spiritual master, and the conclusions he ultimately reached regarding the inner life and Islam. The 96-year-old author, a respected British scholar, recounts the lessons learned from his life including the answers to profound questions such as: How did I come to put First things First?, What is the Spiritual Significance of Tears and Laughter?, What is the Spiritual Significance of Civilization?, What is the Qur'anic Doctrine of the Afterlife?

Prior to publication of this volume, its distinguished author, Martin Lings, did in fact "return to the Spirit" on May 12th 2005. This has occasioned the addition to this work of an "In Memoriam" appendix. Readers will be treated to tributes that have arrived from the world over written by those who simply read and loved his work to those who knew him personally, some of whom were under his spiritual direction. These diverse accounts of this extraordinary man round out a profound image of his person. The book also includes a selection of previously unpublished photographs taken throughout his life.

A special "In Memoriam" section includes words from Shaykh Hamza Yusuf.

.E. “Purification of the Heart” 17 CD SET, The suffering of the world is spoken of in term of wars, starvation, hatred, competition, and the struggle of the survival of the fittest. Yet all the suffering of the world originates in the human heart. Every crime committed, every act of oppression, every callous cruelty, and every injustice to the self or others emanates from the hearts of men.

The soundest of hearts was the heart of the Messenger of Allah (pbuh) who, through his purity and singularity of intention, transformed the world. His teaching remains and the challenge is for each of us to take it and to transform our hearts with it, thereby, transforming the very world in which we live.

Courtesy of Alhambra Productions. Shurkan!

YAY!!!! I AM SO EXCITED, I AM NEARLY JUMPING OUT OF MY SKIN!!!!
YAY!!!! I AM GOING TO BE SUCH A SMARTIE PANTS!!!!
YAY!!!! ALHAMDULILAH!!!! YAY!!!!

But before I can be a smartie pants, I am going to go wear a little dress and pretty golden Crack and twirl around so that my dress can twirl really high and over objects.

Love for Humanity

This man, Imam Zaid Shakir, has a capcity to stir my heart. In light of what is happening across this world and what has been brought home to the likes of people I love (T) in Virginia, I think the message in this video is timely.

It is a 28 minute speech and it might just touch your heart (please note he begins the lecture with a short few words in Arabic, less than a minute). I was listening to this on my iPod and I had to listen to it in short intervals because I found myself overwhelmed by his message.



If his words have spoken to you as they have to me, then take a little walk through his home on the interWeb and listen to other lectures and read some of his work (scroll down).

I would love to hear your thoughts on the lecture.

**Please note new Learn about Islam link on right hand side.

Random Celebrity Notes

.1. In 2002 Justin Timberlake released Cry Me A River which, if you lived in North America and not beneath a rock, you knew was about Britney Spears’ extra-curricular affairs. He felt it appropriate to humiliate her publicly with his a**hole video because I’m sure he never dropped his d*ck into another woman the entire time he was with Britney. WHO ARE YOU KIDDING, JUSTIN? (See footnotes 1 & 2, please.)

In his latest ugh release, Justin Timberlake sings
“…don’t want to think about it…
…don’t want to talk about it…
… I’m just so sick about it…
about – can ‘ya take a guess?
Right: a woman who was unfaithful.

FIVE YEARS, Justin. You’ve been milking it for FIVE GOD DAMN YEARS…and so my advice to you is that since you “don’t want to think about it” or “talk about it” because you’re “sick about it”, then you might want to consider shutting the f*ck up about it. I’m sure that if you really tried, you could plug other two-syllable lyrics into your musical score.

Justin. Being in the Mickey Mouse Club together does not = having children together. And because Britney's indiscretions weren't SO severe, then understand that sh*t happens and people cheat. Get over yourself, kid. (See footnote no 3, folks.)

Footnote no. 1: Didn't Justin used to wear a "WWJD" bracelet? Maybe that was The Backstreet Boys? Whatever. I'm pretty sure Jesus (pbuh) wouldn't have made that video, Justin.

Footnote no. 2: In Islam there's this belief that if you forgive another's indiscretions, then Allah will forgive you yours because ultimately we all muck it up somehow. But because you, Justin, could not do this, I look forward to the day someone makes a video about your muck ups.

Footnote no. 3: I don't mean to belittle the subject matter of unfaithfulness, but I make a huge distinction between being cheated on when you're someone's girlfriend/boyfriend or when you're someone's life partner and someone with whom you've procreated.

.2. No. I’m not a Britney