Goodnight Lamplight

Update/Ramble

2012-01-26T12:20:00.004-06:00

Wow. I had almost forgotten about this blog. I was messing around online today, wanting to write (having almost forgotten this calling), but not knowing what or where to write. I ended up writing a short letter to my aunt, which felt good, just to get something out there. But it wasn't enough.

I started surfing around, checking out some of the old blogs I used to read that have also been abandoned. Was pleasantly surprised that one of them actually had an update after over a year.

It reminded me to check my own, that I COULD check my own...that I COULD write. I noticed that just a few posts from the top, I mentioned that my son was 5, and we were beginning our homeschooling journey. Heh.

Well, to any who *might* be curious, here's a couple updates. It feels so strange to write to an audience that I know could be there...it really stops me from letting go, and often I wish I were more anonymous - but that defeats my ultimate goal of writing a book someday. Sometimes that feels more real and possible than others. Because in order for that to be possible, I HAVE TO PUT IN THE WORK.

I started to write a little bit last summer and fall, privately. I actually started to get a TINY bit of momentum going. It felt really good. With bravado, I even signed up for Nanowrimo in November - the Write a Novel in 30 Days competition. It's for writers to just get that first (or whichever number) novel out there. To take away all the blocks. To not expect a piece of brilliance, but to have something to work on. The whole point is to get it done - fast. I thought it was a great challenge and I looked forward to it for a couple months, having signed up in the summer.

It's amazing to think I had the gall, looking back at what I was going through. I can't elaborate here. But it's in the past, now, and I'm healing. I'm putting that episode of life to rest. Alhamdulileh, I learned a lot, and that's one of the reasons we are here on earth - to learn.

After working for 2 days on my Nanowrimo book project - yes, I actually started a book - 2 days worth; yay me - I got sidetracked. It doesn't take much, but I truly was busy then, for the next 2 1/2 months. My inlaws came and stayed with us, and I was very, very busy, and overwhelmed with the constant presence of people. I couldn't write with people enveloping me all the time.

I learned a lot from that experience, too. It could be that Allah gave me a lot of tests last year in order for me to learn. To strengthen my patience. To really take the time time ponder Life, the Self, what it all means - which is exactly the kind of pondering and time-taking to do so that lead me to seeking religion in the first place. So I needed these things, to be a better, stronger person. Now I know I've got some new skills - but always, always with the weakness and fragility of humans, I must continually work on these things. Polishing them so they don't disappear.

We can't be arrogant. Humbleness is essential. Looking at things from other people's points of view. Compassion.

But mainly patience. And learning to find peace in any situation. You don't even have to physically escape to a retreat to have peace; you can find that inner sanctuary while going about the daily necessities of your life.

Now I need to learn motivation. But I don't relish a test in order for me to learn it. Those tests are very hard.

But now I'm choked up again. I have the same old fears that stop me from putting one letter in front of the other, like putting one foot in front of the other, learning how to walk.

So now I'm just going to put this out there - this ramble - even though it's absolutely nothing. I love reading books about writing and how to get yourself going. They all say you need to get the trash out. To just GO and do it. Probably it would be wiser to do this privately, where no one can read my trash, BUT the problem there is....no motivation. Even though I'm writing trash, it's still more fun to type it, know it's going somewhere, and being read. It's a psychosis.

Since my "blog" was updated last, my son is now 7 and in school. Alhamdulileh.

It's funny how much you can go through, how much you can change in 2 years, while mostly appearing the same to people. The adventure, the journey, was all on the inside.

I've changed my tune about homeschooling, for one thing. I was completely gung-ho about it - absolutely bent on it. Stopping homeschooling at one point seemed like a tragedy to me.

But people come into our lives and act as teachers, without them even realizing it. Someone that helped prepare me for what was to come, by the Grace of Allah, was a different relative of my husband's. She came, a strong person with strong opinions and a lot to say, and I enjoyed listening to her and thinking about what she had to say. On that facet, she talked a lot about a socio-political side of Islam that I didn't know anything about. But what she wasn't aware of was another facet of her visit: I got to experience her children interacting with my children.

This has occured before - relatives coming to visit for a period of time - but the kids were younger then, and certain transitions were not in the air. This time, I experienced my son, whose educational direction was already in question, and his happiness at being around another friend. A good companion. How my son was willing to learn from him - excited and energized by that. I thought maybe he would do well in a school setting, a more social setting, and it would be fair to let him try it. So we did, last fall.

He's doing well. He hasn't found that sort of best friend, which really is something special and uncommon, but he has a good time, for the most part. Significantly, I think it's important and fair to give him the opportunity to learn from and experience people other than his family.

I just filled out my middle daughter's kindergarten application for the fall. I won't send it in though until she completes the Early Childhood Screening exam.

I thought about homeschooling her for kindergarten, but in the school's open house in the fall, I took one look at the glorious kindergarten room, and thought, no way. She'd have way too much fun here, inshaAllah. She's really looking forward to it.

And alhamdulileh, inshaAllah I'll still have the baby, at home with me. :)

Little Bit O' Nuthin'

2010-03-15T21:00:00.002-05:00

Well, right now all I'm wondering is why my older blog posts don't show up in the Archive list. My first posts are in 2006.....

I read that if you post a new post, they might appear again....?

Hence this little bit o' nuthin', even thought I'm obviously not feelin' it..... :)

Pure Morning

2009-08-25T05:52:00.002-05:00

It is 5:52 a.m. It is Ramadan.
It is my little son's birthday, and he is 5 years old today, mashaAllah walhamdulileh.
There is a thunderstorm outside (those that know me, know this is my favorite). Thunder cracking across the sky, sounds just overhead. Lightning flashing through the blackness, in instants flickering through the drawn blinds of my room.
This is beautiful.

I can't believe my son is 5 today. He seems so grown up, so changed from last year. I can't believe the leaps and bounds in maturity, sensitivity and knowledge he has gained, mashaAllah.

Preparation...

2009-08-21T14:42:00.003-05:00

InshaAllah, our official homeschooling journey begins September 8th.

I want to supplement the curriculum with Islamic Studies on our own. I have several books - some owned, some library. No plan, though - no systematic order of progression - and that's what bothers me.

I just realized I have about 2 weeks until the official start date. That SHOULD be enough time for me to get organized if I can buckle down.

MashaAllah, we have a school room. Our toddler has been moved into my son's room, so her room will be our school room inshaAllah.

I have almost all our supplies from the online school - books, materials, loaner computer. I have a couple empty plastic drawers, filing crates & hanging folders. My son's tall bookshelf (filled with random stuff that could be organized elsewhere) I'm thinking about moving into the school room. I haven't decided yet how I'm going to organize all this stuff. I still need to receive the scanner from the online school, and we still don't have a printer. Our budget is pushed to the edge, so my husband said he's going to "do some research" about finding a printer. I know he's not looking forward to having to buy the expensive ink cartridges. We've done without a printer now for about 2 years - maybe 2 1/2. But now that we're starting school at home, I think we're really going to need it.

Especially because I want to supplement with a free Islamic curriculum, if I can find one. And it will probably require lots of printing. I know there's tons and tons of resources out there for Islamic lessons and teachings for your children - but what I'm really looking for, in order to be organized, start simply, and not be overwhelmed, is ONE curriculum. Complete with daily lesson plans and a big picture curriculum goal with directions exactly on how to get there. :)

I know Kinza Academy has an Islamic homeschool curriculum - for purchase. My son does attend a weekend Islamic school. He has some simple books from there, so inshaAllah until I can find the solid curriculum plan I'm looking for I can use those.

I'm being called away now, for a bike ride....

Ramadan Kareem!

Change

2009-08-18T09:30:00.000-05:00

Today there's a chill in the air...it makes me sad because I have to face that summer is almost over. Words cannot describe how much I love summer. I love Fall too, but for its bittersweet, gothic melancholy that pensively twists your heartstrings... Summer I love with its shiny, lush, luxuriant engorgement and peace.

2009-07-31T10:27:00.002-05:00

Filled with love

of our world and the people in it -

our constant fragile balance

of beauty and tragedy,

happiness and sadness,

frenetic passion

and silent, somnolent calm.

Butterflies

2009-07-26T17:03:00.003-05:00

Lately
I have
butterflies in my stomach
a knot in my throat
walking on eggshells
with a twist in my heart

Fear of the unknown

Remembering that Allah will protect me

Quiets, for a while,

The shaking of electric veins

beneath my skin.

Beta Waves

2009-05-12T06:41:00.004-05:00

I love the time laying still before you sleep - how the mind flashes with pictures of memories and moments throughout your life. It's like being able to live through a lifetime again, in a few seconds. And still, those same feelings are there. It's really there, your experience, nestled inside your brain. I love how crystal clear these snapshots are. These precious seconds. Alhamdulileh, mashaAllah.

I really should write these stories. *sigh* One day, inshaAllah. I really would love to write them. But I need enough time and space to concentrate. I get so lost, so completely carried away by writing. And I need to be here. I am needed. Walhamdulileh.

Speak the Truth, Even When it Hurts

2009-04-09T12:05:00.003-05:00

Salaamu alaikum.

I removed my previous post stirring up so much dispute.

Upon further consideration, I agreed with one commenter that it would be more honest & useful (my words) to say the things I wanted to say directly to a particular person.

I have done that. May Allah forgive me if I was wrong to not address it to whom I should have in the first place. May Allah guide me & fellow muslims always to the correct adab. May fellow muslims forgive me if I have injured them. May Allah reward the sister who reminded me. Ameen.

There are a few points I wish to keep, which are my notes to all muslims:

1. We must be humble enough to always pursue truth, even when it hurts.

2. The point of this life is not to achieve happiness. The point of our creation is to worship Allah.
This life is a test. Happiness is nice to have, but it comes and goes, regardless of your status or
circumstances. When the going gets rough, people like to jump ship, or try to find a
different, "progressive" way to shore. What SHOULD happen - and of course we ALL need
practice at this - when Allah gives us tests, we turn EVEN MORE STRONGLY AND
FAITHFULLY TO ALLAH, saying, O Allah! HELP ME get through this! There is no helper but
you!

3. Don't stop seeking help from Allah because you are not getting the results you wanted. One
has to be patient, and persistant - maybe 'till the end of one's life. That's true patience. And
waiting with a truly open, thankful, rembering, faithful heart - not a suspicious heart, or one
that thinks, maybe semi-consciously, well, I'm only going to do X if you give me Y.

4. Count your blessings.

5. Weigh the consequences.

6. Allah LOVES those who ask for His Mercy! He LOVES those who rely solely on Him!Prophet
Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) taught us that NO ONE will get into Jannah by
his or her deeds alone. Not even himself. We will get into Jannah ONLY by Allah's Mercy. None
of us is anything near imaginably perfect, and it is His Mercy alone that is so Great and
Beneficient that he CAN forgive and show mercy. But we must want it and seek it.

7. What we should be seeking is happiness in the eternal world. Everything else is
GUARANTEED to be fleeting. It means nothing, because this life is just a short little test. All
muslims, all who know of the afterlife, the believers - their utmost heart's desire is Jannat
Firdaus. That is what we are striving for.

8. It is our job to speak about what is right. All imams remind us - again, again, and again. The
Qur'an reminds us - again, again, and again. We know what is right but we need to be uplifted,
inspired to receive it and have it hit home, maybe not today, but maybe next week. Don't have
the light drowned out or silenced because no one feels like seeing it.

9. It is the job of true friends, true brothers & sisters, to help guide us to that place of peace &
safety, the fold of Islam.

10. Those that state their religious opinions about what is true should bring proof.

11. We cannot solve or judge a dispute between two people when we have only heard one side of
the story. Note the story of Prophet David judging the dispute between two shepards.
http://www.angelfire.com/on/ummiby1/dawud.html

12. It is wrong to say with any certainty that a person "is going to hell."

13. In my opinion, it is useful to represent yourself online, seeing as hiding is something people
GREATLY try to do on the web, which hinders understanding, communication and empathy.

14. Check your arguements to make sure they make sense before you argue them.

15. Turning away from Islam is ultimately the responsibility of the sinner. Do not blame others.

16. It's not "okay to sin." (seems obvious, but.....) Just because we are human and we all sin does not mean that we should accept, welcome, love, or encourage sin. It is always a burden on the shoulders of the sinner; it is always something to seek Forgiveness for; it is always something to repent from. Oh, it's also not okay to start spreading the word that certain sins are not sins, just because you don't feel like they are anymore.

17. Do not state that if other muslims annoy you too much, you want no part of Islam either,
authu bileh.

18. It is appropriate to warn, in general, against behaviors that have been known to lead one
astray. Not to point fingers - but to speak directly to someone you have wish to communicate
with.

19. An illogical, inappropriate arguement is, "who are YOU to point fingers?" The whole "he who
has not sinned may cast the first stone" is a Christian ideology. You don't have to wait until
you are perfect, or superiorly pious (although one might be, inshaAllah, in order to be moved
by wayward behaviour) in order to address someone about what they should not be doing.
Those who say nothing may simply not care. Or, they might not be thinking deeply about the
larger repercussions of saying nothing.

20. In my opinion, it's a bunch p.c. bologna to say, "Let's not pass judgement!" about someone who's doing something wrong. Here's the deal: we're judging the sin. When we speak out against a sin, we're not saying one who sins "is a bad person." We care about the sinner. All souls, all people, are worth weight and worth guiding. (The whole "love the sinner, not the sin" is an acceptable concept as long as the sinner is in the fold of Islam.) So don't you worry - we're not casting anyone out, we're not castrating anyone from society - but we are judging behaviour. This is important. Judging between right and wrong is crucial. It does not mean we do not sympathize with the sinner. It simply means we must make clear which behaviors are wrong. We still love our friends, our loved ones - but we have criteria (religion) to judge their actions in this life, and to remind them about what is right and wrong.

The reason: to practice submission to the One God on the path of light that He has shown us: Islam.

Firelight

2008-12-29T10:01:00.003-06:00

cold crystal snow chipped
winter'd afternoon

excitement rises
in the blood
in the bones

melting through the icing
round the skin

New

2008-08-03T16:40:00.003-05:00

I wasn't planning to write just now, but my friend inspired me to do so. What I want to say is small and quick, but so important to me.

I have been focusing much too much on negative things lately. Look at my last couple posts! My family has been noticing. I've gotten tense, angsty, easily angered, istaghfirallah.

My new things to work on: peace. Lightheartedness. Easy-goingness. Humor.

To bring it all back. InshaAllah.

To be that girl/person/woman that people knew and loved me for.

I need to shed the dark battle gear.

I Hate American "Policies" and May Be Ready to Skeedaddle

2008-07-21T19:06:00.002-05:00

Begin rant: Americans and their stupid "policies."

I took my kids to this new waterpark by my parents' house. I was so excited to show them, as we discovered together the zero-depth wade-in pool that is 18" max, with slides, fountains, and generally a fun time.

A few days ago, I brought them to another kiddie pool, and felt bad because I didn't bring my own Islamic swimsuit (I wanted to test the environment first), but then when S. - my 14 mo. old - wanted SO BADLY to go in and I couldn't, we had to go (this was after about an hour, when she finally realized that she would like to go in there).

So today, I went to this new little waterpark fully prepared, wearing my Islamic swimsuit. I was pretty nervous about how people would react, but I took a deep breathe and walked in the play area.

First thing that happens when I'm just standing with S. in the less-than-ankle-deep water is, the lifeguard approaches me and says, "I'm sorry but we have a new policy. There's no clothes in the pool."

"This is swimsuit material."

"Well, even so - it's our new policy. Because the pool has drains that could suck your clothes. Could you just roll up your pants a little bit?"

I'm thinking, okay, she doesn't get it. But I say okay, and I just tie the pants in a knot at the ankle - not rolling them up, but they're not loose at the ankle, then.

I felt really anxious after that, but she left me alone. So then I eased myself into playing with my kids, all the while slightly on edge but trying to relax as I kept the lifeguards in my peripheral vision to see if they had any more problems with me.

After about 2 hours, when I felt more comfortable, the manager comes up to me.

"I'm sorry," she says, and she looks embarrassed and apologetic. "We have this new policy...we can't allow any clothing in the pool at all."

"Even if it's swimsuit material?"

"No....I don't know if you've been watching the news-" [I have - about the fluke accident with the 6 yr. old girl] "-but there's these drains. Your clothes could get sucked by them, with all that......material."

I stare at her.

She continues, "Don't you have anything else you can wear?"

"No."

"Not even like, some shorts, or a little tank top?"

I look at her, completely amazed. Does she really not get why I'm dressed like this???

"Nope."

"Well...." she was getting uncomfortable now, but - not as uncomfortable as me. Still I gave her an out.

I said, "Well, if it's policy, I understand."

"Okay!" she said, immediately perking up, glad to be able to get out of there, out of this terrible, awkward conversation. "Thank you! I'm sorry!"

Yep.

I was so mad/embarrassed, I just got the kids together and left. I thought about approaching her, and asking her nicely, because I was genuinely confused about why she thought I was dressed like this, "You know I'm wearing this for religious reasons, right?"

But I didn't. I didn't want to face more awkwardness, plus I was too mad - at America. I was getting shaky again.

***

Did you see the news story, with the 6 year old girl? Weird thing happened - what are the odds of this? A 6 yr old girl sat on a drain for an hour in a kiddie pool, and it sucked out her intestines. She went to the hospital, and died a few weeks later from complications due to the injury.

Tragic. But. In how many ways does that NOT apply to me and my situation? At least 5.

1. I am not 6. I am an adult.
2. I was not sitting on a drain.
3. The drain accident did not involve clothing.
4. The likelihood of my clothes getting sucked by these small yet clearly visible drains near the perimeter of the pool is microscopic.
5. Even if my clothes got sucked by the drain, how likely is it that this would injure me?

Having a pool AT ALL is a risk! So if they're looking to avoid all possible risks to innocent civilians, why have a pool at all????

The manager also told me, "We can't allow some people to wear clothes, and not others. It wouldn't be fair."

How lame is that argument? Just WHY can't they allow some people to do some things, and not others? Where does it say that in the Life Instruction Manual?

Fairness is NOT treating everyone exactly the same. It's giving different individuals what they need.

I am wearing these clothes FOR RELIGIOUS REASONS. Didn't they just break some other policy about freedom to practice religion?

Why don't they just put a sign on the front door that says, "Muslims Not Allowed?"

This "policy" business has p'od me off since even before I was muslim. It's blanket statements, blanket thinking that is lazy. Changing, adapting to unique circumstances would require too much thinking, too much interacting. Too much room for disagreement - which is what they are trying to avoid. "They" are incommunicado about "issues" in life. They put a period at the end of their Rules, so that there is no further discussion.

What this does is complicate life, instead of simplifying it. I have always thought so. It's not allowing people to just LIVE, free, and make their own judgements.

The business of "policies" has fostered a culture that is highly judgemental of others (oooh, spooky others), highly critical of anyone who IS different, anyone who DOESN'T follow lock-step into line and follow The Rules without blinking once or thinking twice.

***

Then. On the way home, I was at a stoplight when a giant pickup truck with 2 men pulled up next to me. We both had our windows rolled down, and my sunglasses were on.

"Hey!" yelled one man to the other. "Is that one of those s..o...ma...li..es?"

I whipped my head in their direction, whipped off my sunglasses, and looked them square in the eye.

"Whoa!" they exclaimed to each other. "....Hey! Are you one of those somali religions?"

"A MUSLIM?" I ask, impatiently. (I was in a bad mood by now.)

"Whoa!!!! You a muslim???" says one. The other says, "Whoaa!!!! You REALLY went deep, huh? Being a muslim?"

I shrug, completely bewildered by what THAT'S supposed to mean. The light changes, and I put the pedal down.

***

Things like this.

I feel sick of America, lately.

As much as I love my parents, and the green trees and green grass and general appreciation and awareness of a clean environment, I'm thinking, wouldn't it just make life a lot easier for us if we lived in a muslim country????

I am sick of sticking out like a sore thumb every where I go. Of ALWAYS being the odd one.

I'm sick of every time I turn on what should be an innocently educational show for my kid, he's bombarded with stuff about birthdays and other philosophical things/attitudes I don't support.

Of course I know I will still stand out in a muslim country, not being from there, originally. But it's in a GOOD WAY. When people see me over there, they do a double-take and they're like, "What? You're a muslim?" and then, "MASHAALLAH!" - they're HAPPY about it!

Whereas here, people are like, "Uh-oh." LOLOLOLOLOL

*sigh!*

WALHAMDULILEH FOR EVERYTHING!

My last line there made me smile, anyway!

My Complaint with the Better Business Bureau Against CVS Pharmacy

2008-06-24T14:57:00.003-05:00

This is the complaint I just filed with the Better Business Bureau against CVS Pharmacy for what happened to me today (i.e. June 17) :

*********

Filed on : June 17 2008

Filed by :
**** ****
Address:******
*****

Filed against :
CVS Pharmacy Store #1751
2196 White Bear Ave.
Maplewood MN 55109

Complaint Description:
Date of problem: 6/17/08, approx. 12:30 pm.

I entered the store, leaving my 2 children in the car, as I was planning to be in the store for 5 minutes to quickly get 3 small items (I realize this is not a good idea and will not repeat this action). After being in the store approx. 5 minutes, a female employee approached me and asked rudely, "Do you have a black car?" I replied "yes," and she responded, completely nastily, "You better get out of here or I'm going to call the police." "Why?" I asked, surprised. "You have two children in the car!" she shouted. "Okay," I said.

At this point, a male employee approached, and the female shouted rudely, "It's HER car!" The male glared at me and shouted, "You better get out of here or we're gonna call the police on you!" and the female sneered, "She wants to know WHY!!" and the male screeched, "WHY!? DON'T YOU KNOW THE EFFECTS!? BRAIN DAMAGE! THE HEAT!"

"Okay," I said, and continued calmly, "but you're being extremely rude." The female screeched, "I'M rude?!!" And male yelled, "MAYBE WE SHOULD CALL THE POLICE AND HAVE THEM EXPLAIN IT TO YOU!" I calmly asked, "Why are you treating me like I'm an idiot?" and the woman looked me square in the eye and said, "You ARE an idiot."

I then calmly set down the items that I had gathered onto the counter and said, "I won't be buying these." "GOOD!" screamed the woman. "Get out of here!" and I calmly said, "Wow. You are EXTREMELY insulting." And she sneered, "I'M insulting?" - at which point I simply calmly left the store.

The woman followed me out of the store as I walked to my car. She eyed my license plate and began mumbling the number to herself, then got in her car and drove away.

Throughout this encounter, I was calm, composed, dignified. I realize that it was not a good idea to leave my kids in the car, even for 5 minutes. I won't repeat this behavior. However, there is a correct way to convey this information or request to me from the employees at this store. Their behavior was completely inappropriate. It was beyond mere rudeness; it was insulting and definitely harrassment. I suspect that the extremeness of their offensive behavior may have been due to bigotry, but that is not the main issue here. The main issue is that I refuse to be treated that way. There are many, many ways this situation could have been handled differently on the part of the employees, such as, simply asking me POLITELY to get my children from the car. Their behavior needs to be checked and treatment like this needs to be stopped NOW.

Your Desired Resolution:
I expect a formal apology from the employees, from the manager, and from the company. I expect the appropriate formal disciplinary actions to be taken against the two offensive employees (such as termination), as well as new training offered for the all rest of the employees (including the manager) on customer's rights, company policy, social service skills, and sensitivity and anti-discrimination practices.

This case will be reviewed by a complaint specialist at the Better Business Bureau, and then forwarded to the business for their response. It is our policy to allow the business 10 working days to respond to your complaint. You will be notified when the business has responded.

********

I drove home and was sooooooooo angry I shaking. I called the police (how ironic!) and a woman told me IN A NICE WAY not to leave my kids in the car, even for a minute (yes, I know - istaghfirallah it was stupid) but that yes, their behavior was inappropriate (DUH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). She said there was nothing the police could do, but that I should contact the Better Business Bureau, which as you can see, I did.

****
p.s. I didn't include this in my complaint, but what I really "suspect" is that they were EXTRA AGRESSIVE because I am muslim.

I didn't include that in the complaint, because then the complaint would have to go through a more formal legal system, and I didn't want to do that.

When I got home, my sister was there (b/c she lives there, LOL, since we're (hubby, myself & the kids) staying at my parents' house right now....it's a long story but don't worry it's all good, alhamdulileh and we are enjoying it until we can get a new place inshaAllah) and ANYWAY, my sister said, "Wow, _____'s aunt had trouble at that same place. They sent letters back and forth and the complaint she had was mistreatment because she's white and her husband is black."

So apparently the people in this store are hateful racist bigots who have had customer service "problems" before.

SubhanAllah!

***

UPDATE:

I wrote the above on a forum that I belong to for muslim women. One response I got was offering condolences due to the experience, advice not to repeat my own lack of judgement about the car thing (I won't inshaAllah! Alhamdulileh for the wake-up call to reality on my part), and she also thought that the treatment of those clerks was not due to me being muslim, since they were apparently going to talk to the owner of the car anyway. This was my response:

***
No, inshaAllah I won't ever do that again. I'm glad for that wake-up call that the reality is, it's a totally unsafe thing to do. Alhamdulileh for getting my attention.

However, I disagree that their behavior had anything to do with me being muslim.

YES, they were looking for the car's owner and probably going to advise that person. However, when they discovered that it was ME ("it's HER car!!!"), it seemed to spark something and trigger some serious hate.

The hate was seeping out from them. In retrospect, I was wondering if these 2 people were actually shayateen. I thought of going back and standing in front of them saying, "Autho billehi min ashaytan irrajeem" and seeing what happened! (I don't think I will, though)

These were not 2 kindly citizens who were so concerned for the welfare of my children. They seemed eager to attack and pounce upon ME, eager to have caught me doing something wrong so that they could verbally at least, punish me. They seemed like they HATED me - and it was more about ME than anything else.

A week later, I am still shaken. My father told the story to a friend of his yesterday, and the first thing out of his friend's mouth was, "It probably happened like that because of her whole muslim thing." (he's a nice man...he wasn't trying to be disrespectful by saying "whole muslim thing," - in his defense, he's actually quite open-minded)

It brought it all back to me - and it was strange to hear someone else confirm, first-off, that it was that extent of agression due to bigotry. I had thought so, and so did my family, but it was just strange to hear that that was obvious to someone else, too.

It has made me paranoid. I've had other rude comments, but never to that extent. It was amazingly terrible the way these people looked and talked at me.

It made me start to wonder how many more people feel that way about me in secret?

It is a TERRIBLE feeling that someone hates you without even knowing you.

I am afraid for my children. I want people to love them and to know them just as "Yehiya and Shams" - not, "those [weird - in their minds] muslim kids down the street."

It all made me start to think - for the first time really - that maybe I really FEEL (not just intellectually KNOW) that living in a muslim land is better for me and my family.

My son is almost 4. It feels like the cusp of leaving babyhood behind. MashaAllah, he seems so grown to me - a young boy. He is SO absorbent and aware of everything around him, mashaAllah.

I keep getting these little thoughts in the back of my head, a bit anxious, wondering, how hard is this going to be to raise my children here - when we are the VAST minority "OTHER."

How hard is it going to be to keep explaining, "We do this, we believe this - they don't" and have him love our way, respect our way - and feel that it is the NATURAL WAY TO BE (which it is).

I feel like it would be so much easier, I would feel so much safer, more secure, if EVERYONE AROUND US WAS MUSLIM. No one questions your actions, your faith. They accept it as the NATURAL WAY OF LIFE - and the more you do, MASHA'ALLAH! For the MOST part, people understand and respect where you're coming from on certain issues of day-to-day LIFE.

My husband and I had a little discussion about it (there's a lot of stuff going on in our lives right now, alhamdulileh, so this subject just got a liiitle bit of table time, mashaAllah!), and he asked me, "Do you think it would be easier to point out that other muslims are doing things we as muslims shouldn't do, or to explain that other people are just doing certain things because they're not muslim?"

I've thought for years now about this question. And I feel, simply, that it would just be easier to be surrounded by muslims - because of that basic understanding of what is right, and sharing a common love, and a common goal - whatever the level of knowledge or practice may be. It is a fundamental UNDERSTANDING.

Also, of course I've thought and thought about this since becoming a parent, but now I'm feeling it more and more - I think it's just going to be hard to be a muslim child surrounded by non-muslim children, non-muslim people almost everywhere you go - or don't go! - because they're also on TV, in movies, in ads, etc.

It's a visual impact that may be difficult to cut through, no matter how much you talk about what is right. If he sees very few people IN SOCIETY, IN THE LARGE WORLD (not talking about just masjid events, here) how is that going to effect him?

Allah knows best.

I am so full of thoughts and feelings about this subject right now.

I pray that Allah protects us, our families, our hearts - filling us with imaan and blessing us always with guidance on the straight path. I pray He will fill us with light and knowledge and protect us from evil, and bless us with all that is good in this world and in the hereafter. AMEEN. __________________

p.s. BBB update: they said they can't do anything.

so, the police can't do anything, the BBB can't do anything.....people can just treat each other any ol' way they want without any consequece........until Judgement Day!!!! muahahahahahahah

Tagged: Let's Hope!

2008-06-03T11:18:00.003-05:00

I just noticed that I was tagged on May 3rd by Umm Ibrahim! (thanks ukhti for thinking of me....sorry for getting back to you so late!)

LET'S HOPE!

Tagged by: Umm Ibrahim - Stranger in this Dunya
Rules:

1. ON your blog, post the Rules & 10 things you have HOPE for in your life.
2. LINK Tag 10 people (we want hope to spread people!) and LINK the person who tagged you.
3. Comment/Notify the 10 People they've been tagged.

I have the feeling my hopes are not going to be very original, since a lot of muslims have the same hopes :)

10 Things I HOPE for in my life:

1. I hope to avoid the punishment of the grave and reach Jannah - ditto, Umm I.

2. I hope to be able to bring up my children worshipping and loving Allah and being contented in their deen - ditto, Umm I.

3. I hope to learn more Qur'an, become more fluent in my reading of Qur'an and to be able to more fully implement what I read into my and my family's life - ditto, Umm I.

4. I hope that my mother, father, brother and sister will become muslim.

5. I hope that Allah will fill my marriage with blessings, love and happiness, and will protect and preserve it from everything that I do not hope for.

6. I hope to devote more time to reading - both for pleasure and for studying and seeking knowledge.

7. I hope to have the energy and motivation to be a teacher and facilitator for my children and myself to learn together, acquiring knowledge, skills, inspiration, and curiosity.

8. I hope to see the day where Muslims are able to stand up for themselves more effectively and unashamedly and make their voices heard - ditto, Umm I.

9. I hope to become more disciplined in pursuit of what I value.

10. I hope always to grow in my faith and improve myself. - ditto, Umm I.

I'll tag 5 people:

Safa
Umm Layla
Umm AbdurRahman
Mumina
Multicultural Muslimah

Babies Are Hilarious

2008-05-14T10:42:00.006-05:00

Just a nice warm fuzzy, here.

I've been reading my latest National Geographic issue (I love that magazine) cover to cover - it's an entire issue on China - a fascinating place. This morning as I read, sipping my coffee, my daughter, a 1-year-old baby, mashaAllah, squatted next to me for 15 minutes, "cleaning" her mini-highchair (I call it her baby-seat...it's what we use for her to eat in...a travel-size highchair) with a wad of toilet paper. The toilet paper slowly disintegrated into a few fuzzy puffs as it scrubbed and scrubbed, being ripped and shredded by these furiously working little fists. She worked energetically, complete with her tongue between her teeth, sticking out from the corner of her mouth (for added concentration). Every once in awhile, she would look up at me with sparkly, wide eyes, searching for approval. I would squeal, "Good job!!!" and she went happily back to work.

When she was finally satisfied with her efforts, she put up her arms for me to carry her. As we were exiting the kitchen, I found a raisin on the floor, left-over from her 15-20 minute feast prior, when she was curiously pinching each little raisin clump between tiny forefinger and thumb.

"Here," I said, picking it up. "Have a raisin." (I'm not one to shy away from raisins on the kitchen floor.) She opened her mouth like a baby bird, and I plopped it in, her big cheeks bulging from the sides as she began to chew.

It was a job well done.

MashaAllah. Babies are hilarious. SubhanAllah. :)

About Me

2008-04-19T11:00:00.006-05:00

Mumina's post got me inspired to do a mini-bio, too. Who, after all, doesn't like writing about herself? ;) So it's the jolt that I needed.

*hang on, Mumina - I have to go pick up my kids I'll finish this post later inshaAllah ;) *

**Okay, I'm back. Yeah, like a week later. :) Such is me. Which is what this post is all about, right? Ahhhhh.

Well, I forget what I was going to write about in the first place. So let's just take it from here, with baby in my lap and everything.

Maybe I could write a list type of thing. My cousin did some kind of "100 facts about me" type of thing awhile back on her page....that might make it easier. And then I know I'll just go off and off into paragraphs and paragraphs of tangents. But oh well. Tangents are what I do best.

1. I feel what I imagine is semi-drained of life each morning until I have my coffee. It's a bit freakish, and scares me, but at this point I think there's nothing I can do about it. If coffee doesn't happen until noon, then I feel semi-drained of life until noon. And so on.

Maybe it's the consequence of my college years, when I didn't have a clue what "health" is, and how to maintain and respect it, and so had limitlessness for almost everything. ALMOST - alhamdulileh!!!!!

2. I am 30 years old. sheesh! Walhamdulileh. I just turned 30 last march. March 2, which is a cute looking little date that I like, alhamdulileh. What is she talking about, you might wonder? Yes, I am talking about how I like the date of my birth. It is aesthetically pleasing. And I am majorly concerned with aesthetics. Many years, there is a blizzard or other type of storm on my birthday, which I love. It seems wild and romantic. Except for that year I turned 10 years old, and had tickets to The Children's Theatre on my birthday, to see a play about my favorite story of all time, Alice in Wonderland, with my mother and my best friend from next door, and we couldn't go because of a major blizzard (we don't even get truly major blizzards here in Minnesota anymore...freakish global warming!). I remember crying....my mom must have felt so bad. ;)

3. I get headaches easily, and they are very bad and less often can turn into migraines. I have to be careful about this, which includes drinking lots of water. I've discovered that if I do not drink lots of water for 2 or so days in a row, I am guaranteed a headache. These usually last an entire day. And then I cannot think. Walhamdulileh. :) Yes, I am truly grateful for any trial I am given because I need it, it is good for me for so many reasons, and always, always it it nothing in comparison. As in all things, there is always somebody who's got it worse than you - and I am applying this to the whole picture of being alive - not just headaches.

Afterthought: you might be thinking, how does she manage Ramadan? Alhamdulileh, mashaAllah, Allah is Merciful - I have a trivial amount of headache during that month. I manage by drinking 1-2 litres of water at sukhoor and 2 litres of water from maghrib onwards.

4. So far this list is so random that I am getting wary of it. Well, on, on! I'm telling myself. Try to keep it together, man!

5. I pictured the above last sentence being uttered by Rex Harrison. Hilarious man. The other night, I watched about 1/2 an hour of the old movie "Cleopatra" starring Rex Harrison, some other guy, and Elizabeth Taylor. Rex Harrison as Caesar is ridiculously amusing! But the movie was terrible, so I quit watching.

6. I come from an eccentric family. Or at least, my father is, and siblings, as a result of being genetically tied, and then my mother, but only by proximation, and because she loves us.

MashaAllah, I am at this moment marvelling at my husband's patience and acceptance of remaining married to someone who, from his point of view, is such a goofball.

My husband is utterly logical, determinedly balanced. He keeps me in order. It's all Qadr Allah. I feel he is good for me, mashaAllah. I hope I am beneficial for him, too.

7. I love simplicity, and nature. I love simple foods, simple meals. The thought makes me tingle. I just gave my son strawberries and cheese to eat. Things like that. I find myself writing a lot about nature, weather, light, or darkness. It effects me so much. Years ago now, I considered myself a poet. I can't be, anymore, since I don't do it, anymore. But I used to write voluminously.
That was before I was married. Being married changed me, changed how I spend my time in the world, physically and mentally. And it had to, since for years I was completely enveloped in the vortex of my own mental world. I loved it, but change is inevitable, good, progression, a part of life, and a challenge to rise to. I have always loved words, language, writing. But also, since I became muslim almost 5 years ago, alhamdulileh, mashaAllah, my writing quieted for many, many reasons. One is that I felt the weight of RESPONSIBILITY for what I write. Words can clearly get you into trouble, especially too many words - for us humans, they can run away from us, out of our control. We get heady with them, and can lose our way. We can become too much engulfed in the indulgence of Self.

It's why, years ago, before I came to Islam, I was trying to clear out, clean up, after years of being psychologically, imaginatively, emotionally, a chaotic mess. And so I was drawn to Eastern concepts of clarity, silence, purity, simplicity, reticence. As a muslim, I still respect those values and find it halal and beneficial to do so from an Islamic standpoint.

8. I am not a very social person. For years and years, I was extremely shy. However, especially in this last year - perhaps it is the benefit of aging, maturity - I find I am gaining more confidence that allows me to relax and be myself and reach out to other people, and that it's not such a scary thing or such a huge task - in fact I find relief in it. I feel very grateful to know so many beautiful muslim souls. My dad respects Islam and muslims a lot. He asked me recently, "It seems like....is it a muslim quality to have such a pure heart?" and all I could say was, "I think so."

9. I am a very flexible person. I am often (can't say always) open to hearing another point of view and considering it. We talked about this in my son's once-a-week preschool (it's a 2 hr. thing, called Early Childhood Family Education, and I love it) during mom-time, in the mom-room, where all the moms go to discuss mom-stuff while the kids stay in their classroom, doing kid-stuff.

The topic was "temperament," which I think greatly interests our "parent educator," and me. One of the 9 characteristics of temperament, so it goes, is "flexibility," and where a person lies on that scale.

We dispersed into small groups and discussed a temperament trait or two. We were to examine the positives and the challenges of these traits. Our group had "flexibility." The group agreed with me, that we couldn't think of anything negative about being flexible. Let's say the parents are extremely routine-oriented people, and the child naturally isn't. No matter; the child is flexible and so adapts to the parents' way.

When we presented to the large group, I added, for an amiable example, that I consider myself extremely flexible, and that some might perceive that as being easily walked-over, but that actually that trait has come in quite handy for me in life.

One woman spoke up - a woman I respect. She's soft-spoken, humble, creative, and has an aura of peacefulness about her. To my surprise, she said, "I can think of something negative about being overly flexible...you could lose yourself." All ears perked up and turned towards her. The group facilitator pressed her to explain. "It's just....if you're always willing to change or give up what you want, you can lose that part of yourself."

I thought this was very interesting - and a little bit alarming. Actually, I embarrassed myself, next. As it is also my nature to make sure everyone feels good and included, I immediately said, without thinking twice, "Yes, that's a good point!" ( LOL - thereby demonstrating just how flexible I am! I was embarrassed because I didn't want anyone or myself to think of myself as a lost pushover) I don't know if anyone caught that, on my part. They didn't give any sign.

Oh well. :) It works for me. I do what I have to do to stay aloft in this world, you know?

10. Okay, time to do something else, today. It's been fun, kids.

Haiku

2008-04-08T12:27:00.001-05:00

I am Black Lotus

twirling between starlit night

in velvet slippers

Question About Islamic Clothes

2008-04-04T18:40:00.003-05:00

Please help me understand, if you can.

To make a long, complicated and boring story short, when my husband and I were already in the midst of an argument about something totally other than what I'm about to mention here, I mentioned that the reason I would prefer not to spend X amount of money on X is because there are other things I would rather spend money on.

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like clothes," I answered, thinking of the new Spring clothes at my favorite Islamic store. There's a couple pieces I'm drooling over.

"You have a closet full of clothes," was his reply. "You have so many that you gave away X bags full to that rummage sale at the mosque."

Which was true, I did.

Now, let me give you bit of background, and then you can help me sort this out.

I became muslim 4 1/2 years ago. Like so many new muslims, I had no idea what to wear, so I accepted whatever was offered to me.

Since that time, I have branched out, GRADUALLY, learning about different cuts, different styles, different fabrics, which are halal and better suit my personal taste.

Until last summer, it was always ranges of abayas (mostly black, incidentally) that I was exploring.

I am very particular about....well, let's face it, many things in life. :) Clothing is one of them. I want it to fit well. I prefer certain fabrics and cuts over others. When things aren't *just right* I am bothered.

Now, I continued to wear abayas for 4 years, and frankly WORE OUT my favorite ones precisely because they were perferable, due to many details, over other ones. The ones with constructional flaws were worn very infrequently, much to the DEEP-SEATED chagrin of my husband ("why did I buy these if you're never going to wear them"). I am so drawn to practicality and comfort that the abayas which best fit my personal paradigm of goodness got too worn out, and my husband refused to let me wear them anymore, saying I looked "like a bum," meaning, not respectable, because the material had gotten all fuzzy and they had shrunk a little due to so many washings. Also, the material had been less expensive in the first place. I found that the fancy ones just didn't suit my lifestyle. Being a muslim growing in her identity, I hadn't anticipated this when I had been pressured to buy fancy abayas, so that I would look "respectable."

One additional note - the first year I was muslim, I also wore niqab. It was due to many reasons that are hard to articulate, but I think what stands out is that I was very, very eager - alhamdulileh - to jump into this religion, to do everything, to be great. I didn't think about the long-term anything of wearing niqab; it just didn't matter or occur to be at the time. Much like how I converted/reverted to Islam in the first place: I just jumped in, because I knew it was right and good - mashaAllah.

But with niqab, since I believe it is not quite possible to prove 100% either way that it is fard or not, I had some leeway. I discovered that there were difficulties with it, and since I viewed it as an option, I gradually opted out.

My husband saw this as a weakening of imaan, which I felt very bad about. But over time, I've come to define this change differently. I think that I am just evolving, finding my place inside and outside myself as a muslim in this society. I tried something out. I found it difficult to maintain at the time. Perhaps one day I will work it back in - Allahu alim. It was more a matter of practicality, I think.

Now. Last summer, my friend from out of town came to visit. I admired her muslim attire, mashaAllah, of long skirts and long shirts bought from a particular muslim Islamic clothing store.

I checked it out, and I LOVED what I found. Different styles, different colors (but still modest). Cuts that fit better, and even covered better (I don't like how with abayas, if you have anything but the shirt-style sleeves, they are wide. They slide up your arm if you slightly raise your arm, which exposes your skin UNLESS you wear the stretchy arm gauntlets, which for me are extremely uncomfortable, because they are either too tight, or they bunch up under your clothes, and in all cases, they make me HOT, HOT HOT). This Islamic store has clothes made out of COTTON - SUBHANALLAH! What I'd missed in my abayas for years! I always wondered why abayas, which are usually dark colors, have to be made of polyester? Thick or thin polyester, it doesn't breathe and it is hot and for me, less comfortable. I tolerated it for years because I believed I didn't have any other options.

Can I tell you how I marveled when I discovered COTTON clothes? COTTON ISLAMIC clothes? I was soooo happy.

So I bought a few pieces.

Since then, I've added a few more pieces, often saving up my own money so that I don't have to ask my husband for anything expensive and feel guilty about it.

So my abayas have gotten cycled out of what I wear. My husband asks, irritated, every once in awhile, why don't I wear my abayas? And I go into this long-winded explanation - which, includes something I didn't mention before - I am still nursing. All of my abayas except 1 or 2 are not suited for nursing.

Which brings us to tonight.

I mentioned that there were a few clothes I was thinking about, and he mentioned how I have a closet full of abayas.

I explained that I prefer to wear my long skirts and shirts, because of the fabric, the cuts, the practicality and functionality - I just feel it all is easier and suits me better.

This is where my question comes in. He proceeded to make me feel EXTREMELY GUILTY.

He assumed I was saying I was "never going to wear abaya again, and that I hate abaya" (which I NEVER said...why would I say that??? but he assumed that's what I meant), which he said is HARAAM. (Question: I didn't say that, but IS it haraam to say that?)

He was basically admonishing me, saying that we can NEVER say anything other than abaya, jilbab, galabaya is the best, because that's what the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) loved to wear, did wear, and it's what his wives wore.

He said fine, wear long shirts and skirts, it is halal, but you must admit that it is not as good as abaya (or galabaya, for men). Abaya and galabaya is sunnah. You should at least want or hope to do the sunnah, if your imaan is higher - but never say that something else is better.

I felt terrible. I like wearing the skirts, shirts, because of practical, functional reasons. Sure, I stand out less too than I would in black abaya - but I don't really care about that - I wore black abayas for 4 years, after all!

Question: is what my husband saying correct? Is it haraam to say that something else is as good or better to wear - for ANY reason - than abaya???

Please help. Jazakallahkhairan.

Building An Islamic Environment?

2008-03-24T17:10:00.002-05:00

Here's a question for all you "droves" of readers: ;)

Practically speaking, how do I create a more Islamic environment at home? What should I be doing more of? Less of? Do you designate "Islamic" activities vs. "other" activities?

Six Word Memoir

2008-03-24T16:17:00.004-05:00

The Rules

1. Write your own six word memoir

2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like

3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere

4. Tag five more blogs with links

5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

My Memoir:

Dark Into Light

Heartful Love's Sight

Umm AbdurRahman tagged me.

I tag:

Mumina
The Egyptian's Wife
TruWoman
Organic Muslimah

and uh, uh....hmmm I know 3 out of 4 of the above were already tagged, but...oh well.

Camera Obscura

2008-03-20T21:41:00.007-05:00

words slither

cautious

careful

ivory

possibly echos

may disappear

and everything

beautiful

again.

Waiting, pixelated

cringing worn-teeth wounds

shiver on shell

blasted away

rug pulled out

from under feet

measureless and therefore,

lost

Primary

2008-03-12T13:36:00.001-05:00

As a child my dad taught me early that all colors are made from red, yellow and blue.

I always used to wonder, "So where did red, yellow and blue come from?"

*

Now I know.

:)

Wilt

2008-03-09T21:48:00.004-05:00

I feel a deflation after I've come home from the party today.

I was *SO* excited to go to this party today. I'm like a child. I was shaking with nervousness. I don't know if many would comprehend it. I was in high anxiety, gripping me, that I was running late. I got there an hour late, but alhamdulileh it didn't make much difference - we all stayed about 2 1/2 hours later than we had originally thought the party was going to last (we left at 7:30 vs. the orig. 5:00 pm).

It was beautiful. I was so happy to be there, in this beautiful little house that I admired so much, mashaAllah. The hostess was so happy and friendly - we all were - and we laughed so much.

Today was daylight savings, so we "lost" an hour - meaning the day is longer now - alhamdulileh. So we sat in the afternoon light, experiencing it waning into an evening fog. Beautiful, alhamdulileh.

The shining faces.

The lovely children.

The circle of friends, and one big conversation including everyone - I loved it all. MashaAllah, walhamdulileh.

As soon as I walked out the door, I felt sad.

Deflated.

Wilting.

Knew that I was going back to this trial - the test of this feeling, and the situation I'm in lately. Emotionally, I don't know why *exactly* I'm in the place that I'm in. But I feel I'm now ready for the quiet, better change, inshaAllah.

On the way home I got a little lost, but it was nice. I talked to myself for a long time, in the warm car, in the blue evening, the watery yellow-orange lights reflecting from the melted puddles and in the ice and snow. A few gentle flakes blowing in the mild breeze.

I remember telling myself that that I do not want darkness to eat me alive.

The last two days, I've been deflated. I will not say why; it doesn't matter.

I've been realizing lately, it's taken a toll on me.

I realized this while I was in the group of women.

I've become isolated. Lonely. And I am aching for a friend. A deep friend, a best friend, who can love with the capacity that I do.

I have such capacity to love - it is enormous, chasmic, engulfs me.

And I've little shards of myself that have been scattered, and should be found, and replaced.

I realize

I realize

I realize

disappointment

soft smile, so soft

blurring eyes

**

In this group of women, so strong, so shining, so wonderful - I had the sense that I am weak. I had the sense that they would not accept behavior that I have accepted, or at least endured.

But why am I so weak? Why am I so easily crushed?

I belive I should fight it. I believe I should no longer let myself, my delicate self-esteem be dessimated

I believe I should try and be beautiful, shining, and good, despite anything else

I feel disappointed. But I'm not complaining; I am grateful that I have anything and everything at all

I'm grateful for my trials

I am never sure who is right, and who is wrong. Is that strange? I am easily persuaded.

I feel that who I am is a secret.

Who knows me best, but Allah?

I pray that Allah loves me. I cried in my car, knowing for certain that the only true joy is that in the next world - to be in Jannat Firdaus with Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) and his companions, and to see our Lord, Allah.

Allah, how I love you.

Allah, how I pray that you love me, as your slave, your worshipper. How I pray for Your Mercy upon me!

And You are The Most Gracious, Most Merciful.

***

About 15 mins. later:

SubhanAllah.....just another reminder to myself about the amazing therapeutic effects writing has for me. I now feel SO MUCH BETTER. It's truly amazing. I now feel happy, alhamdulileh, mashaAllah.

***

About an hour later:

It has dawned on me that this happiness is from Allah. An answer to how I was feeling...a comfort, a quelling, a warmth. Alhamdulileh, mashaAllah, subhanAllah!

My Birthday

2008-03-02T22:01:00.004-06:00

Today I am 30 years old.

I can't believe it. This is surreal.

I've never cared about age before; in fact, enjoyed a bit growing older, packing all those experiences under my belt.

This is a little bit...sad? It's like the end of an era. The "kid" era...even though I feel like I'm very similar to the same person I've always been....a very child-like person, if I do say so, myself. It sounds bad, but I rather enjoy being me, alhamdulileh.

So from now on, I won't be saying I'm "20-______" anymore. Which is what I've been saying for the past 10 years.

So. Weird.

It was a beautiful day though; gray, rainy, long, slow - my kind of day. :)

Questions

2008-02-28T15:46:00.003-06:00

A friend forwarded me these questions. I enjoyed answering them.

MEME QUESTIONS

1. What is the first movie you saw and where did you see it?

The very first movie? I can't remember - but I think the very earliest one I can remember stands out because it was the worst and I hated it: Tron. I was 5 years old, and my parents were watching it in our hotel room while we were on vacation in Sanibel Island, Florida. I remember being soooooo bored. Other than that, early, early movies that stand out are The Muppet Movie, and The Last Unicorn - both of which, I loved.

2. What television show(s) did you like in the 70's?

I was born in 1978.

3. What television show(s) did you like in the 80's?

Sesame Street, My Little Pony (this was my favorite), Care Bears, Garfield, Punky Brewster, Silver Spoons, He Man & She Ra, The Muppet Show, Fraggle Rock (other favorite), The Smurfs, The Littles, The Jetsons, Dungeons & Dragons.

4. Name as many childhood Halloween costumes as you remember.

When I was 7, I was a horse (which everyone thought was a cow, which pissed me off, and my brother got to be a "cool" devil, which pissed me off, too). I believe that costume, already a hand-me-down from my cousin Allison, was recycled for me for 2 consecutive years. Brilliant!

My very first costume was an artist, at age 2. I had a little black beret, a paint smock with bowtie, and the paint-thing with all the colors on it, with a hole for your thumb....the thing artists hold while they're painting - and a paintbrush. I was so proud - I wanted to be like my dad.

When I was 5, I was painted as some sort of weird vaudevillian clown face and taken door-to-door by my father. I was so embarrassed, because I thought I looked ugly, so I cried the entire time, and wouldn't look anyone in the eye. I have no idea what my dad thought of my reaction.

At age 6, I was Strawberry Shortcake, and wore the cheap plastic mask with tiny breathe-holes. I rememer wheezing and the whole mask covering my face with condensation, which was an extremely unpleasant sensation, but I was determined to wear it - I loved Strawberry Shortcake, man. The rest of the costume consisted of a plastic tablecloth-like sheet with a hole for my head, draped over my body and screenprinted with a Strawberry Shortcake picture.

At age 9 I was Raggedy Ann, an entire set, lovingly handcrafted - including a red yarn wig, a blue flowered dress with white pinafore (I loved this dress and pinafore - I felt like Alice and Wonderland, which, looking back, would have been a wise choice, since I loved Alice and felt silly wearing this giant red wig) and red-and-white socks. It was borrowed and handed-down from my next-door-neighbor-best-friend. Obviously my parents did not like buying Halloween costumes.

My final year of trick-or-treating was at age 13 or 14 - I knew I was old, but I loved it, and my friend Lisa and I were going to go together. Her brilliant idea was to make our own costumes, and we were each to be "a bag of jelly beans." It took a lot of drawing-board brainstorming to determine how this feat was to be accomplished, let me tell you. We made my costume first, and taped balloons with masking tape to the outside of a black trash bag, reconfigured with holes for arms, and head.

After my costume was complete, we had the stroke of genius to tape the balloons with much-sturdier duct tape. We were giggling as we squished into the back of my parent's station wagon, in order to drive us to "the rich neighborhood," where we would get more & better candy. We barely fit in the car, and my heart would flutter at each popping of a balloon.

My costume, due to its embarrassingly shoddy craftsmanship, cast balloons one bye one, two by two, lost into the dark night after each house we visited and each crispy, sugar-frosted lawn we traversed - until I was just walking around in a black trash bag. Lisa's costume was fully intact, her enviously bright bouquet of colors a beacon of hope in the frigid, obsidian air. I felt the clench of a quiet panic rise in my throat.

At that point, we rang the bell at a large, white house. I believe there were pillars - or it may just be my faulty memory, increasing the stakes in the ominous tragi-comedy that was to ensue. When the woman opened the door, her face turned to a bitter sneer as she looked first at Lisa, bright and bubbly, and then me, in my wrinkled, crinkled, ripped, pathetic, disgusting - trash bag. "YOU COULD TRY HARDER THAN THAT!" she barked, crushing my fragile self-esteem, my confidence, my wishes to be clever, lovely and glittered.

5. What was the first thing you bought with your own money?

I remember being so proud that I had six dollars, for a long time, carefully stowed away in my quilted pink purse. I think I used it to buy candy - but didn't spend it all in one place. I bought M & Ms, my treasure, and would eat just a few at a time, and would delicately roll up the little papery bag and tuck it away in my cupboard in my room in order to savor them as long as I could.

6. What was your allowance at age 10?

I never had an allowance.

7. Was/were there a(n) political event(s) you remember from the 70s and 80's?

I don't remember anything. Except in 3rd grade, our teacher asked us who we thought would be voted for governor and wrote down two names on the blackboard. We voted. I was so proud a few days later when my guess was correct. I had chosen the name because I liked it - and truly had an instinct about him. ;)

8. What religion were you raised in?

A bit Christian, but we never attended church. I remember my dad taking me to the Nature Center, walking around looking at the trees, and my dad called it, "My Church." He'd always ask us if we wanted to go to his church.

9. Are you still in that religion?

No.

10. What rules did your parents have that you hated?

I don't remember any rules. Except I hated doing homework - especially math homework. I would cry with frustration. We also had to always practice the piano - which we all procrastinated about doing - even though I liked it.

11. What's the first song you made out to?

There was no music.

12. Who was your first kiss?

Not telling. But I was 18 years old.

13. How many schools did you go to as a kid?

4 - one elementary school, one middle school, 2 highschools

14. Which place(s) did you live growing up?

North Saint Paul, Minnesota

15. What color(s) was/were your room growing up?

White stucco, with dark wood trim in weird V shapes. My dad said he wanted it to look like a tudor-style house (on the inside of my room). Until I was in highschool, it also had blue persian-esque tiles on the floor, which were cool - but it made the floor hard and cold. It was a weird room. No wonder I chose to sleep in my brother's room until I was 7. (It was also because I was afraid of all the dolls in my room. I thought they were staring at me at night, in the dark, as I tried to sleep. Gave me chills.)

16. What was your favorite book in the 70's/80's/90's?

From the start, I loved to read and be read to. Books were my entire world. As a young kid, among all the picture books, the famous kid authors, I loved all the 1950s Little Lulu comics that my dad read to us from his collection.

As I grew, I loved all the Oz books & Alice in Wonderland (my favorites), Dr. Seuss, all old fairytales, everything by Zilpha Keatley Snyder, Anne of Green Gables books, Madeleine L'Engle, Cynthia Voight books, Chronicles of Narnia...............

17. What was your favorite movie(s) in the 70's/80's/90's?

I love movies and always have. If I had to pick one though that stands out most from childhood, I'd say Labyrinth.

18. Who was your first "best friend"?

Kristen, next-door.

19. Do you still know him/her?

Yes! Although she moved away, we re-discovered each other later in life. :)

20. What was the farthest you rode a bike as a child?

I think to the 7/11. It was "up the hill," which I thought was a marvelous, long journey. Now, I know - t's not. LOL

21. Were your parents strict?

Not by a long shot.

22. When were you allowed to date?

Never was an issue because I was extremely shy. It never came up.

23. What pet(s) did you have before you were 18?
Poppy & Moose - 2 cocker spaniels
Goldie & Blackie - goldfish
Tosca - cat
Hamsters (my sister's - yech)
Nibbles - guinea pig (my sister's - again, yech)
Zip & Cupid - cockatiels
BearPaw - mutt dog
Zeke, Cecily, Zolly - 3 lovey cats

24. Did you get good grades in school?

Yes

25. What hobbies did you have as a child?

I loved to read and write....I also played the piano, tennis, and skiing. And until I was about 9 or 10, I loved dolls and always played with dolls.

26. Did you play sports?

ONLY tennis & skiing. Outside of school. They were the only things I liked, and I was terrible at everything else. I HATED school-related sports/gym class. Such pressure! Such tension!

27. What was your favorite food as a child?

Rice. When I was 10 and my parents asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I only half-jokingly asked for "a barrel of rice."

Also, artichokes and brussels sprouts. I loved eating steamed artichokes as a family, because it took a long time to make them and eat them, one leaf at a time, dipped in mayonnaise (yum!). This delectable vegetable was particularly conducive to having quality family time - eating, talking.

28. What food did you hate as a child?

I never liked meat very much. And until I was a bit older and grew to LOVE spaghetti, when I was very young, it was scary to eat because I continually choked as I was eating it.

29. Are your parents still married? If so, how long?
34 years this fall, inshaAllah, mashaAllah.

30. Who was your favorite teacher in K-8?

Definitely Mr. Fredlund, my 5th grade teacher. He was my beloved, staunch supporter. Believed in me, loved me in a grandfatherly way. Now that my mom's a schoolboard person and always involved in education and the community, she sees him from time to time at different functions. He always asks about me. :)

21. Who was your favorite teacher in High School?

I loved Mrs. Lamb, my 7th grade English teacher, and Mr. Brick, my 11th and 12th grade English teacher, even though EVERYONE I knew made fun of him - he was quite odd. I liked him very much - he was a huge fan of Asian poetry, and I will never forget his moving, inspiring lectures about Lao Tsu and Li Po, which revved up quite a bit of enthusiasm for these writers on my own part. I will never forget how, through these and other writers, he taught me the word "reticence," and the whole concept behind it in Asian poetry. It followed me for the rest of my days, trying to capture that essence and practice. Mr. Brick was so supportive of me. He was so respectful and 1000% encouraging of me and my writing. It was exactly what I needed - saturated praise - in order to draw me out, to blossom and be brave and expressive in my writing.

It's funny, but I remember little else from my scholastic highschool days, but these afternoons of reading poetry and world literature stayed with me. Just the other morning - a cold, bright winter morning, I read a beautiful article in National Geographic about the 17th century Japanese poet, Basho. It took me back inside a reverie.

22. Did you ever steal anything as a kid?

We had these neighbors that we (my parents, and therefore, us kids) hated, until they moved away when I entered middle school, or maybe a little earlier. They were dumb as rocks, and loud, and mean. They used to have this plastic crate of rocks - just rocks - sitting next to their garage.

I don't know why, but I feverishly decided I just HAD to take one of those rocks. Maybe it was vengeance for their son being mean to me? My heart was pounding, pounding, as I cased the situation, crept up, and snatched a big rock from the crate. Just as I did so, they drove up in their van, onto their driveway. I ran, and hid in the bushes. Someone jumped out of the van and chased after me - was it their daughter? - and caught me in the bushes, and started screaming in my face, "WHAT WERE YOU DOING?! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!!" I couldn't answer, couldn't speak, could only shake in my cold sweat.

I still had the rock when she walked away. I remember laying in bed that night, unable to sleep, my stomach in a twist, nauseous, paralyzed with fear, begging - someone, something, instinctually? - for forgiveness. Vowing never to do that again. The next day, I crept back, and put the rock back in the crate, praying they would never notice.

23. Did you ever cheat on a test?

No

24. Where would we find you on your elementary school playground?

Hoping recess would end as quickly as possible (I didn't like any forced socialization), or, on a more peaceful Spring day, playing 4-square, if there were any taking it up.

25. Did you have a job before you were 18?

At 15, I worked at Dege Garden Center. I was a cashier, but also did other odd jobs. It was the weirdest place to work - the employees were bizarre, are-you-a-convict? types - but they were very funny, and I enjoyed working there. I thought they were SO OLD, so haggard, so experienced - but looking back, they were about 25-30 yrs. old. We would take turns taking naps in the back, on top of bags of fertilizer. We'd jump up and start sweeping if the owner, George, came in the store. I loved watering the flowers with the spray hose in the hot, misty greenhouse.

I also worked at Bruegger's Bagels, which I didn't like much - but I stuck to it.

26. Excluding family, who have you known the longest that you still have contact with now?

Kristen, from next-door

27. Did you go to any concerts when you were a child? If yes, which ones?

Classical ones.

28. What fad(s) did you just have to have?

Friendship bracelets, Cabbage Patch dolls, moccasins, hairsprayed bangs, jelly shoes, tight-ankled jeans held together with safety pins

29. What fad(s) did you hate?

Hairsprayed bangs and tight-ankled jeans held together with safety pins

30. It's Friday night in high school: Where are you?

Sometimes home, watching a movie, sometimes out with friends - movie, restaurant, coffee shop or their house.

31. Did you ever copy a celebrity for your hair style?

Wanted to, but don't think I did or was able to.

32. What song was played at your high school graduation?

I can't remember.

33. What was the dumbest thing you did as a child?

Perhaps when I tried, in secret, to copy my dad by putting M & Ms in my nose. I was in the bathroom, sitting on the counter, looking in the mirror, to see how it looked to have orange and green nostrils, like him. The trouble came when the M & Ms wouldn't come out again. They were stuck. I panicked. They melted. I started blowing my nose, blowing my nose, for what I've always remembered was "half an hour," blowing chocolate out - and then blood. Decided never to do that again, either.

My friend Kristen answered these questions too, and for this one, I just have to post her answer as well, since it is about her and me:

"One would have to be when my best friend and I made wishes, blowing on dandelions, that we would become centaurs. And we were absolutely, whole-heartedly convinced that our wish had come true, and oh, were we delighted. ("I can see the outline of my back legs!" "I can jump higher than I could before! Look!") Until, classically, the doubts started to creep in: what had we done? How would we live our lives this way? How would we ever return to normal?? I went inside to my mother, in tears, wailing about dandelions and wishes and back legs and despair. My mother's response:
'Why don't you just wish on another dandelion?' "

34. How late were you allowed to stay out?

I didn't really have a curfew

35. What was your first car?

The red Ford Taurus station wagon was passed on to me. I thought it was a huge embarrassment, but my friends in highschool liked it, which made me happy. It always smelled like grass, from having huge black lawn bags filled with freshly mown grass in the summer that my mother then drove to "the dump." The smell remained.

36. Is your life what you thought it would be?

I hadn't known what to expect, but I certainly hadn't seen this coming.

Thoughts on Schooling

2008-02-07T20:09:00.000-06:00

Lately, I've been thinking A LOT about Y's future schooling possibilities, and just his general growing-up here in America, in general. I've come face to face with this daunting question: how hard will it be to build my children's MUSLIM IDENTITY here in this country?

I've considered sending Y to public school for a 4-year-old kindergarten program. At one point, I was thinking that would be fine. Now I'm leaning more towards sending him to the Islamic school, if he can get it, and if not, just keeping him home. {Note: This was a few days ago, and now I'm leaning back - thinking public 4 yr old kindergarten will not be harmful inshaAllah for 1 more year....and now thinking more seriously about the benefits of moving to Egypt.....}

I don't have any problem with the program at public school itself; the problem is that he would probably start to build friendships with non-muslim children, who simply have different beliefs, values, and ways of doing things.

My mom said, "Well, he has to learn how to function in the world, which is filled with EVERYBODY. You can't shelter him all his life." Which is true - but isn't this the fragile, developing period of self-definition, to which my children should learn that Islam is the fundament of their soul? How can they do this when they're surrounded by all the nice, well-meaning - but non-muslim people? Wouldn't that be confusing for him?

And then there's the day-to-day things that would make living in a muslim country easier: all meat is halal. Men, women & children are more modest, with more hayaa'. All share an immediate understanding of what your core beliefs are, regardless of the extent to which various people practice them. The opposite is true here in the U.S., where most people are simply ignorant of the pride, respect and greatness that is Islam.

The logical decision seems fairly obvious - barring the fact that true, Egypt, like some other muslim countries, has less resources than America. There won't be nice playgrounds or librairies or the ease of English at my fingertips, or even reliable internet access.

The problem is more of an emotional dilemma.

What sustains me and motivates me are thoughts of the afterlife, and reward for our intentions and the good we have done in this life, inshaAllah. And the one who makes hijrah for the sake of Allah has all his or her previous sins forgiven, inshaAllah.

So what to do?

Notes From the Field

2008-02-07T17:02:00.000-06:00

Thursday. March 1. 2007.
Yesterday's trip to the library proved illuminating (we are regulars nearly every week). Hot competition continues to brew around most popular item, The Train Table - especially coveted among the male toddler/preschooler set. Subject, Y, now 2 1/2, plays there for hours. Fights erupt constantly during the "rush hours," from 10-noon in the morning. Tension mounts as mothers crowd 'round too, anxious to keep the paws of their small monkey-like offspring off the rest of them, and to ensure that wooden things do not get clonked on the heads of their brood.

Yesterday gave rise to a battle. There seemed to be bad blood from the get-go between Y and a bigger, taller, moodier, approximately 3.12-year-old specimen we shall designate as Boy X3. Both cases showed a strong, unyielding preference for the BIG trains, of which there are an extremely short supply. The squall burst forth when, for undetected reasons, X3 suddenly had Y in a headlock. Both were screeching. Mother versions were clucking and pecking.
I watched calmly from my nest until one mother version began fluttering about, gasping, "Who's is he?! Is he yours?!" - duly out of concern for Y, the pounced-upon.

"He's mine!" I chimed, and deftly swept in, assuaging all stormy fears.

"Oh!" were the sighs heard echoing throughout the clan of elders, and then the silent beseeching of why in the world I did not swoop down earlier.

Indeed I felt lame as I said it, knowing how this information would be received - but I still believe that I was right. I explained, with a false puff of lax confidence, "I like to see how they're going to problem-solve...I wanted to see what would happen."

"Hmms" and "Ohs," and nods of dubious agreement followed. I remained for a few more reassuring moments at The Table, then with clandestine adroitness, breezed back to my chair post, about 2 feet away.

It is only fair to record, that some time later, at approximately 1100 hours, when another sturdy young lad was impending Y's compass trek 'round the field, I heard Y assert with full pomp and circumstance, "EXCUSE ME, SIR! EXCUSE ME, SIR! EXCUSE ME!!!" (prounounced, "me me, sir! me me, sir! mee mee!!!")
Close, March 1.

New Beginning...sort of

2008-02-07T16:39:00.000-06:00

I've had a private blog for a little over a year. I finally decided that going public might not be so terrible. LOL - my old blog was briefly public, but I had one mean comment which freaked me out (didn't know I was so thin-skinned), so I hid it all - which is all well and good. It was what it needed to be.

I've now moved a few old posts over here to my new public blog to help me get started. I've rarely posted in the past, and most of the stuff that I ended up writing was deeply private - hence the protection. However, now maybe being public will push me to write more....maybe appreciate the lighter side of things. Wallahu alim. :)

Horses

2008-02-07T14:58:00.002-06:00

Friday, August 25th, 2006

I was looking through some old emails, clearing my mailbox of saved drafts - and I found this poem that I wrote about impressions, experiences from when I was in Mongolia....it seems so long ago...

***
o horses!
we smell of milk and sour sugar,
of apples and toasted brown grass.

and in the race's last rolling notes,
our sliced ears hear
the shrill cries of children,
the saddled and gold-costumed babies,
squeezing our necks with their dimpled thighs,
flying with righteous screams cooled by patches
of skinny wildflowers
when we fall

we open and close our eyes slowly
peering
through long, rough hair
sifting
across the giant heat of soft noses

our bony backs remember babies in yellow costumes,
squeezing our dusty necks with their butter thighs;
and our thick hearts blink at their paper crowns,
rolling away in the wind
when we have
no more lungs
for running

and breathing turns the stomach in a twist.

i am content, laying rest into rust
eating dirt and sighing with seed.

i am gilded in ground nest for old folded bones
and scorched teeth stung white by the sun.
i am all stripped away of the dark life that comes
crawling and crackling
for the sweetness of meat
and a strong house of bone

we rest in piles of rocks and death charms -
smudgy brass cups
with prayers,
echoing round the rim.

and fluttering from rocks
are the threadbare blue sashes
whose silk has come
un-a-ravelling,
streaming blueness like blessings
from the wind's fiery waves
with a coolness
in the end
like kisses
blown into star-soaked night

so the ribbon-lashed mountains rock forward,
kneeling,
in silky dust entrails
and pure straps of sand

after

a blaze of electricity
has needled bright rain
into pastures where we grazed
nearby.

***

(c)2001 PLVN

Thinking Past & Forward

2008-02-07T14:55:00.001-06:00

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Let's write today.
This morning after Fajr, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about my college years, for some reason. It's amazing to think that I'm technically still the same person I was 10 years ago. It's amazing to think how much I've changed in 10 years, and how just a handful of eras or major events in that time have shaped me. I live a pretty quiet life, so I guess it's surprising that I've had any major events at all, but I have, masha'allah.What I was feeling wistful about were not the days of jahiliyya...but about the connections and experiences I had with friends and getting to know people. I guess that's what I missed, this morning. Because I rarely get to know anyone deeply anymore. Friends are for special occasions, and there's only so far we'll go to know each other. But maybe that's just because of who I am - cautious and protective. It has always taken me a very long time to share more than a social, surface level with people.

Anyway, I was thinking about all the characters I met during those 4 years of college. There were some that I got to know very well, and they fascinated me, and I wondered what they are doing now. Of course I wondered if they ever think of me. Probably, every once in awhile...but I doubt they'd be able to grasp what my life is now, and how I live it. Especially since I haven't been in contact with them for about 3 years. Alhamdulileh, it was time to move on. I wish they were not living in ignorance. But then again, I didn't and don't love them that much; there's an intrinsic love that you feel for your fellow believers because they believe. They know what you know, and you love them, simply, for that. I pity the people of the past for not holding this treasure in their hearts. They are empty and will be left behind, when the time comes, unless they turn to the truth.

Today feels like the beginning hints of autumn. Autumn ALWAYS makes me pensive and nostalgic and full of daydreams. The sun shines today with a soft, warm, lucid yellow glow. It's still fairly early for a Sunday - 12:30 pm. I had the pleasure of waking up at 8:30 to take my son from his crib, then played with him for awhile, and when he discovered his father in the other room, my son played with him, and I was left, unusually, to fall asleep again, so relaxed, so cozy, so quiet, on the soft, warm bed in my son's room.We watched the last 15 minutes of My Neighbor Totoro while we ate breakfast...I watched the rest last night, late; it ended at about 10:30 or 11:00. Late because my son stayed up and watched it with me. I really liked that movie. I love the emotion and imagination in Hayao Miyazaki's films. It's uplifting. Now I have the fleece blanket from the sofa wrapped around me as I type. Just before, when I was pouring myself a mug of coffee, I felt the twinge of nostalgia. It's quiet, and a bit crisp outside. My husband is studying in his room downstairs, in the basement. My son is asleep. Apparently he didn't sleep well last night; the Totoro movie scared him. Although I felt sorry and gave him lots of hugs and kisses, it was quite funny when he was watching Totoro last night...whenever Totoro roared his enormous roar, my son's bottom lip would turn out and quiver, and he would begin to wail, moan, shriek or sob, depending on his level of fear. He was instantly comforted by me each time though, when I gave him a hug, and kiss on the cheek, and rubbed his tummy.When we were watching this morning, before Totoro even got a chance to roar, my son figured out that it was the same movie from last night, and he shrieked with fear and ran to get his two "gankies" - his two favorite blankets - and ran to sit on my lap.It was interesting that this morning, when I went to get him from his crib, Totoro was obviously the first thing on his mind, as he talked to me about it, saying, "gblighg Bear! bghbiggj RRRRRRAAAAAAOOOOOOORRRR!" (last night he kept calling Totoro a bear.) I was amazed that he remembered it all through the night and into the morning, masha'allah.
Insha'allah I'll try now to get some reading in this morning - finally!

First Blog Post Ever

2008-02-07T14:50:00.000-06:00

Thursday, August 17, 2006

I'm trying this out. Thinking nobody will ever read this, and I like it that way. To just have a place to put things, out there. My little quiet space.I'm basically doing this because typing gets thoughts out much faster than hand-writing. And I've felt that urge to write again...typing facilitates it, and I don't want to ignore it. So let's get on with it.

Today I wanted to write because I had this thought in my head - this line (they always used to start out as lines, and then the writing came pouring out once I wrote the initial line or lines in my head): "We've had an exquisite summer. We've been blessed." The thought came without anything "special" or unique to which I could attribute it...(God, it's hard to write after I haven't for so long...because the weight of the thought that this is ON THE WEB weighs on me...ignore the audience!)...It came when I was staring out my bedroom window, after I had watched the neighbor kids play in their yard, marveling at them, wondering what goes on in their heads...thinking how nice that family is, and they don't even know I think that. Because they hardly see any of me, or my family. But they are very visible...always outside.

Today was just my favorite kind of day. Grey skies, a brightness in the atmosphere, before and after rain. A suspense building, about when it would come, and the sounds and smells that go with it.The verdure of summer makes me happy. Rich, emerald, glowing green, frothy trees, the effusion of bright, curling vines, shoots, grass. The droopy abundance of leaves arching spines on their gigantic trees, bending over with their feracious weight.The time felt long, slow, quiet. Sounds fuzzy and buzzed. The echo of calm children's voices in the thick, silver air. Outside my bedroom window, I smiled watching the workers do the roof on the empty house across the street. They were calm, too. Working all day, slowly, methodically, rhythmically. They shared a bond, and were gentile. I thought it was so funny that it's mid-August, and this strange, empty, darkened house, whose owner (if that's what he is - who sometimes sends a teenage lackey) makes rare appearances to mow the lawn in the summer, collect mail, or shovel snow in the winter, has started repair work on his dilapedated Victorian. I've lived here for 2 1/2 years now, and the upper windows of the house across the street are always boarded shut. The lower windows are always dark and empty.

Houses have always fascinated me. I've always dreamed about them, wandering through rooms like mazes, examining the details within....
I've always wondered about the next door neighbors as well. Marveled that they can live 5 with numerous guests in this tiny, tiny house and spend the majority of their free time in their little strip of a yard. There's grass in the west side by the house, but where most of the running around and swinging from tree swings and riding of bikes and wandering of dog and placing of wading pool when it's hot, hot, hot takes place, the grass has worn away and there appears to be a rich, black mud. The southeast corner, they have lovingly dedicated to a vegetable garden. I was very surprised when they had that, the first summer I lived here. I thought a yard filled with junk cars, random parts, rusty bikes and neglected toys and 2 old dogs (now down to 1) would not like to nuture a garden. But they do - and they're very good at it. It's thick and big, and last summer, they sent over lots of tomatoes and zucchini and habenero. They also grow corn and sunflowers.

Last summer they also added an odd deck, about a foot off the ground, built into a small L-shaped corner of the house, outside. Put plastic table and chairs on it, and I didn't see anyone sit there. It's right in the bright sun.But this summer, I was pleased to see that they do use it. I've seen the mother, in summer attire, sit with the baby. I've seen crepe party decorations strung up from it. And they added a nice wrought-iron hook set in the ground there, to hold flower baskets, which are doing well. I guess they must water them and I don't notice. I had a pot of cilantro, thyme, curry, rosemary, mint, chives on my deck, but for lack of remembering to water them (it was a gift, my first plant in years), they quickly were scorched by the sun. I felt bad.They have a nice front garden, too - all flowers. Funny, I don't think I've seen them tend that, either.

Our yard is full of weeds. At the end of last summer I attempted to remove a portion of them. I spent about 2 hours doing it. Then my hands swelled up, red & itching for 2 or 3 days. My neighbor later informed me that it was poison oak. No, I was not wearing gloves. Unfortunately, I'm not a gardener. But perhaps one day, insha'allah.

So my thoughts came at Asr time. The late afternoon glow. And thankfully, no rush into evening. I love August. My thoughts about this summer's exquisiteness came after a beautiful afternoon spent with my sister, father and little son at The Children's Museum downtown. It was magnificent to see his face light up, masha'allah, to see him so filled with energy, curiosity, and concentration. I wish I could inspire him like that every day. That is my goal. But alhamdulileh, I felt no guilt about a self-judged lack of anything...because I was too peaceful, just being. Just hearing the crickets and feeling the slowness of time. I hope we can go to Sugarloaf again this summer. It's this saturation of nature that makes me so happy. And of course, when I felt this particular happiness, I wasn't anywhere but my own house today, my own city...but on days like today, nature lolls and gushes and takes centerstage in your mind.