untitled thoughts
this first year of shahada has been one for the books and while it seemed quite mild at first, I see how Allah, has built a magnificent crescendo. at the beginning of the year or around this time last year, I had a dear Sistren share with me what she saw when she looked at me, what she felt. she responded with a muslimah in the darkness, choking, dying. now, if you’re anything like me, you would find this quite disturbing and I did for so long. I was afraid to talk to her for fear that I would exacerbate what she saw and make it worse. but now coming to the tail end of my first year as a Muslimah, I feel it. I can feel how every situation, every person, every conversation that was had and not had, every thought, every action, every word that has transpired over the past 350 days has led to me having the past few vulnerable, angry, crying, helpless moments over the past few days.
there has been a lot going on in my mental life. my physical life for all it’s worth is beautiful. I have a beautiful roof over my Daughter’s and I’s head. so much space to run, climb and explore. it’s safe and protected. we have food to eat daily. all of our basic needs are met and then some. my Daughter nor I are truly going without. but mentally and emotionally are a completely different story. it’s in times like these where I would attempt to lean as best as any strong willed, prideful, Black woman would on my inner circle, my dearest and closest of friends. in these moments, when I would have needed them most, Allah said, no.
my Sistren went on spiritual retreat and my other friend had their own life and feelings to sort through. I was left alone…or at least that’s what it felt like and still feels like. but I know Allah made it this way for a reason. so I would turn to her instead of them. so I would lean on her instead of them. And so that’s what I’m choosing to do. To pick up my Qur’an instead of my phone. To pick up my tasbih, instead of my phone. To memorize my dikr, instead of my phone. To roll out my prayer rug and raise my hands, instead of my phone.
What’s so crazy and interesting about this is that prior to becoming a Mother, I was on the path to becoming a monk. A solitary one at that. Not having any around never bothered me. I enjoyed my isolation my bi-weekly silent retreats at the ashram, just being with mySelf and Allah. I had absolutely no desire to be near anyone at all, not even family. But maybe that’s the shadow my Baby came to shed light on and dispel. That deep down that’s not what I truly wanted in the end.
