assalamu alaikum,
So, my Brother from Another Mother (BAM) is getting married. He clearly is happy about it but also would be just as happy not to get married.
To be writing this mere months after our conversations online and here in person on marriage is... wow. Life: The Great Unexpected Adventure.
I, well, I acted all girly (sue me, it's not my norm) and squeed and such.
Now, let me tell you a secret: way back when adiyat were needed, I said several prayers for BAM. One was for him to find a job. Two was for him to find a job that had all he needed. Three was for him to find a way to keep his love in his life despite the ticking of biological clocks in folk's ears. We had a very deep conversation, and paramount (or at least, very clear to me) were the facts that 1) he loves her to the point of vulnerablility 2) he don't want no kids not no way not no how 3) the intersection of the two might be the point of breakup for them.
So I am happy that they are getting married. Even if it is for the reasons they are getting married. Go read him yourself to find out details.
I'm still praying for him, is all. For them, now. YAY, love! However you come to it and decide it's worth sticking with.
Another of my longtime friends, Bella, not too long ago had her first son. As I consider myself another honorary 'Titi' to this kid since I remember the night of his parents' first date and REALLY liking his dad (as I recall, Bella is one of those I told 'you're going to marry him' years ago), of course I'm over the moon and thrilled for them. MashaAllah.
I've already remarked countless times that finding my husband and settling down to raise a whole bunch of kids is one of my biggest desires/dreams/wishes/things-I-want-but-can't-make-happen-alone. This year, though, call it 2010 or 1431, the only resolution I made was to let that go. I've been so stressed out by and about the great search that when I really had to focus on other things, and let it go, it felt good for the first time. It was okay.
Just okay. But I can live with that. I'm learning to do that.
I took the GRE's the other day and got a 1310, and it was a weight off of my shoulders and another step toward getting out of my less than financially rewarding job and on with a different dream, that of being a nurse-midwife (don't look now, you'll turn around and i'll be a nurse-anesthetist!). It's something I've wanted for a while.
Managing the application while dealing with my job has been tricky though. They pulled out their 'are you working for us next year' form earlier than ever. My first year, as I recall, I had to return that form in March. They sent it in January this time. I just went ahead and marked it yes and returned it.
My understanding is that I might not have my job regardless, but it's good to hedge my bets. Or something. My immediate boss is pretty intimidating, as was noted by my sixth graders the other day in class.
(That was actually HILARIOUS. "Miss Two, do you think Mrs. V is scary?" Me: Oh my goodness, child. What kind of question is that?... Him: "Do you think she's scary, though?" Me, fronting like a mamma-jamma: No, I think she's pretty responsible, she holds you accountable, but I don't think she's scary. Kids: "We do!" Himself: "I think she's really scary. When she looks at you like that. She's mean." ... ol' girl has some work to do on her public persona as a vice-principal when the brashest kids around call her not just mean, which is part of the job, but scary...heh. I should've said yes. But they're also blabbermouths.)
I think, though, that I haven't completed the application because I'm terrified of the what-ifs. What if Allah in his wisdom has decided this thing, that I've finally decided to go for, isn't for me?
And, what to do with a "career" when I decide that it's not for me? What do I do with my dream of companionship when, 10 years later, I realize it's not for me?
I've been dreaming about D and crew (Flint, Day, and Simona especially) lately, to the point that I picked up the phone and called. DC just got slammed by (yet another!) snowmaggeddon, about 20 inches this time. It might've' been the snow. I think it's something else, though. I've known D for 10 years; it took me quite a while to realize the strength of those feelings, and a little while longer to firmly tell myself that I wouldn't let them get out of hand.
I've known Flint for just as long D, though we're not nearly as close. And I had that same feeling when I saw Day; that they would be getting married. I 'called it' if you will. Their wedding's coming up, too. That makes me happy. The prospect of D getting married to Simona makes me happy as well... with a considerable mixture of other more sullen emotions that I don't really care to examine too deeply or publicly.
(I can hear D yelling at me now. "Who said anything about me getting married?" Buddy, if you don't accept by now that I can call them...) I did beg off when D asked me if I sensed the 'you're getting married' aura about Simona in part because I KNOW my radar is off when it comes to D. Let those chips fall where they may, I don't want anything to do with it.
Those feelings are what bother me now, really. I'm actually (really and truly ) okay with laying off the Great Search for this year, since I devoted all of 2009 to it, and it made me weary. I see myself distancing myself from my friends and it hurts. I get quiet so I won't have to think so hard about what I let come out of my mouth. So I can hear what they're saying and be about them for a while.
I don't like feeling jealous of my friends' good times, though; detest feeling that the way I'm thinking about it now makes it about me. I want to get to the place where it's all about happy. I've lost my way about that. I don't know how to recover it. I mean, normally the way to get over jealousy is to wish the person well and then go get your own whatever-it-is-that-finds-the-lost-remote happy.
I'm also scared: fearful of losing my grip on aqidah and haqq in my search for something that might never come my way. Scared I won't get in to school. Scared school won't help me go where I want to go. Scared to invite people over to see my house and the chaos that is my life. And bitter: bitter that I can't just use my own willpower to make what I want happen. Bitter that people I love don't realize how very, very blessed they are. And I don't know where to start to fix it.
Blogging is cheap therapy, if somewhat ineffective.
I'm still feeling my way around things like this, between the confident, responsible young girl I was and the reticent, emotional, disorganized adult. Something happened there after high school. I hope it'll be untangled by the time I'm old and realize it really didn't matter in the first place.
Still reaching for the One.
peace
twenny
Showing posts with label anguish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anguish. Show all posts
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
'I want to play by my ownself'
Assalamu Alaikum,
Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Subahallah wa bihamdihi, I enjoy and appreciate my job.
But the last couple weeks got a little hairy, let me tell you. And although the children can be (rarely) trying, no, it is most always an adult who is really working my nerves. I'm looking at you, morning-assistant-who-needs-instruction-as-much-as-any-student.
So, today was bliss. I got to work all by my lonesome.
If you're looking from the outside, it doesn't look like I did much. But for me it was INTEGRAL. My boss and several others have been making comments behind my back about my Achilles' heel: organization. Nevermind that they're pretty happy about how their children are treated and how they learn; nor that they won't bring themselves to say what they say behind my back to my face.
I'm far from the most organized person in the school.
I'm not denying that; I'm working on it. What's annoying is that a) I INHERITED a mess from the several teachers who worked before I did, since the last teacher was tossed out/ left precipitously (depending on who's telling the story) less than a month before I was hired. And she wasn't allowed back into the school to get her things. But that's not my story to tell. The annoying part about that is that I came into a mess and I'm good at tolerating mess and bad at organizing.
b) I TOLD my boss before he hired me that organization was my Achilles' heel. Famous last words.
So instead of listening to whining about the state of my room, today I got to spend time by myself, in my room, going through the files in the room, finding out what exactly is in there, throwing out old stuff. It felt good, to just DO what I needed to do without hearing the peanut gallery, you know? It reminded me of one of my favorite students, who loved to explain to me, "I just want to play by my ownself, Miss Two." Very matter of fact.
So that was good.
But then. Ah, then.
After chilling at the house of my wali, (good news), then praying maghrib-sunnah salah at the masjid (even better news there, which will also wait), I came home to the house, glad to see my parents after they took a trip south to see my aunts and grandfather.
Annnnnnd here is where I ask for dua'a, because JW is relapsing. He's losing it again. I won't go into details, but 2 minutes after I entered the house and my parents clued me in to what was going on, the phone rang...
...and it was the police.
Long story short, alhamdulillah JW is okay and not in custody or anything like that, but only because my parents kept him out. He's refusing to take his medicine. And I... I'm not despairing... but... to have the realization over and over again that this incredibly smart, bright, capable man, my little brother, is not right... hurts. It's bewhildering. Something you never in your wildest imagination think is possible, happens, and, yeah, it throws me for a loop.
... inshaAllah he'll be okay. He's talking about taking a gamble, moving to a city on the other side of the country, maxing out his credit cards, and just living there.
What do you say to that? It'd be fine, except that he isn't right in the head. This is not normal twenny-something stuff, this is insanity. I do not want JW to end up anything but happy, clean, healthy...
I dunno.
I need to go play by my ownself. I've already asked so many people to pray, to sincerely put this before Allah swt, and that was before tonight. I'm doing it still, because, wow. I thought work was pushing me... this is so much bigger. Only God knows what will happen, and only God can fix things ultimately.
I'm off to bed.
masalaama
Twenny
Alhamdulillah, Alhamdulillah, Subahallah wa bihamdihi, I enjoy and appreciate my job.
But the last couple weeks got a little hairy, let me tell you. And although the children can be (rarely) trying, no, it is most always an adult who is really working my nerves. I'm looking at you, morning-assistant-who-needs-instruction-as-much-as-any-student.
So, today was bliss. I got to work all by my lonesome.
If you're looking from the outside, it doesn't look like I did much. But for me it was INTEGRAL. My boss and several others have been making comments behind my back about my Achilles' heel: organization. Nevermind that they're pretty happy about how their children are treated and how they learn; nor that they won't bring themselves to say what they say behind my back to my face.
I'm far from the most organized person in the school.
I'm not denying that; I'm working on it. What's annoying is that a) I INHERITED a mess from the several teachers who worked before I did, since the last teacher was tossed out/ left precipitously (depending on who's telling the story) less than a month before I was hired. And she wasn't allowed back into the school to get her things. But that's not my story to tell. The annoying part about that is that I came into a mess and I'm good at tolerating mess and bad at organizing.
b) I TOLD my boss before he hired me that organization was my Achilles' heel. Famous last words.
So instead of listening to whining about the state of my room, today I got to spend time by myself, in my room, going through the files in the room, finding out what exactly is in there, throwing out old stuff. It felt good, to just DO what I needed to do without hearing the peanut gallery, you know? It reminded me of one of my favorite students, who loved to explain to me, "I just want to play by my ownself, Miss Two." Very matter of fact.
So that was good.
But then. Ah, then.
After chilling at the house of my wali, (good news), then praying maghrib-sunnah salah at the masjid (even better news there, which will also wait), I came home to the house, glad to see my parents after they took a trip south to see my aunts and grandfather.
Annnnnnd here is where I ask for dua'a, because JW is relapsing. He's losing it again. I won't go into details, but 2 minutes after I entered the house and my parents clued me in to what was going on, the phone rang...
...and it was the police.
Long story short, alhamdulillah JW is okay and not in custody or anything like that, but only because my parents kept him out. He's refusing to take his medicine. And I... I'm not despairing... but... to have the realization over and over again that this incredibly smart, bright, capable man, my little brother, is not right... hurts. It's bewhildering. Something you never in your wildest imagination think is possible, happens, and, yeah, it throws me for a loop.
... inshaAllah he'll be okay. He's talking about taking a gamble, moving to a city on the other side of the country, maxing out his credit cards, and just living there.
What do you say to that? It'd be fine, except that he isn't right in the head. This is not normal twenny-something stuff, this is insanity. I do not want JW to end up anything but happy, clean, healthy...
I dunno.
I need to go play by my ownself. I've already asked so many people to pray, to sincerely put this before Allah swt, and that was before tonight. I'm doing it still, because, wow. I thought work was pushing me... this is so much bigger. Only God knows what will happen, and only God can fix things ultimately.
I'm off to bed.
masalaama
Twenny
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Un poco perdida
Assalamu Alaikum,
I dunno, my soul feels hispanoparlante, so forgive me if you don't read Spanish.
Me encuentro un poco perdida. No, y más que un poco.
Pero, ¿porqué?
Primero, es que siento traicionada. No solamente por el hecho del casamiento del niño, sino porque, otra vez me encuentro aquí, al medio año, sin casarme y sin prospetos en el área de casamiento. Por más que trato de negarlo, de ignorarlo, eso duele, mano. Duele mucho.
Faltan 30 días para mi vigesimo-octavo cumpleaños.
Tambien me siento apresionada de una manera súbtil, lo que me trae hasta la locura. Cuando yo llegue a mi lugar de empleo, lo dije al jefe bien claro: no soy una mujer sumamente organizada. Limpia, sí; organizada, no. Pero por entonces se le ha occurido no menos que dos veces a la mes condenarme por no ser organizada.
Hasta que, ahora no es que no soy organizada sino que me encuentro evitando, escaseando organizar. Primero porque, no sé cómo hacerlo. Y segundo, una llega a resentir mucho los característicos mas comentados, siento que me han dado hasta que sangra sin decir nada y estoy llegando al grito.
Además, me encantan los lugares organizados. No hay nadie que dé cursos de organizacion en universidad, pero eso es exactamente lo que preciso.
En otros lados, estaba hablando con una amiga el otro dia, y mencionó que un matrimonio que ella conozca estan pasando por problemas. Hasta me hizo hacer duaá por ellos, porque yo si intimamente entiendo lo que estan pasando: la mujer pasará muchas problemas en parir, y por entonces el hombre quiere casarse con otra mujer (son musulmanes y no permanezcan aquí en los EEUU). A ella le dará mucho si él tuviera otra matrimonio a la véz, y tampoco quiere divorciarse; él no quiere pasarse de su derecho de tener hijos y no quiere perjudicarle el salud a su primera mujer.
Ayyyyy que caso. Fíjate.
Aprecio mucho que por lo menos mi amiga no mencionó los especificos de la situación, ya que entiendo lo doloroso pueda ser si salga quiénes son.
Lo veo de ambos lados. Me habían dicho alguna vez que no podrìa tener hijos. Imaginate, ser mujer negra, alta, Y¿ esteríl? ¡ NUNCA me casaría! Especialmente en ésta comunidad de musulmanes, tan enfocados en procreación. Estaba muy nerviosa hasta que resolvieron lo que me pasaba. Y, a mi me encantan los niños; siempre he dicho que me gustaría tener a lo menos cinco. (jajaja, y todas mis amigas hasta hoy me dicen... espere hasta que tienes el primero, aver...)
Por eso es que, aunque no soy muy celosa, he caminado en los pasos de la mujer en ese matrimonio, y hice duà que Alá subjanaju wa taàla le resolviera lo que paso entre ella y su esposo.
Tambien lo veo por el ról del esposo. Imagina que te enamoras con un hombre, y tenías posibilidad de casarse con otro a la vez, es decir, tener matrimonio polígamo. Como te casaste "por amor", y amas al primer hombre, no lo quieres dejar. Pero a la vez, quieres cinco hijos- o por lo menos, dos, si Dios quiere- y el amor de tu vida, tu primer hombre, esta planteado a frente del vìa. ¿Què harías? Aunque le dolía mucho a mi esposo, no puedo decir que decidiera a favor de no casarme con hombre que me diera hijo. Y como quiera nadie va salir ileso de la situacion. Tengo que orar por ambos.
¿Qué mas? Aún estoy de recuperación del choque del otro día. De verdad salió que el seguro de la mujer habìa vencido hace tiempo, lo que llevó la compañia a negarlo, y por entonces mis rates van a subir, thanks! Lo que me preocupa es que cuando me cotejaron el nivel de glucosa en mi sangre estaba sumamente alta, indicación nueva que el diabetes genetica de mi familia me caza de nuevo. Cosa es, que cada vez que paso por el examen de ayuno, mis nùmeros y niveles salen bajitos. No lo entiendo, pues hay mas duaá que hacer. Cosa buena que salio del dia pésimo que era mi mièrcoles: actuè como intèrprete por un hombre que estaba alla con su gerente (ambos trabajadores en una compañia de comida muy popular), y no solamente me dieron certificado para comida gratis, pero el doctor y la gerente de su oficina estaban tan impresionados, que me pidieron una tarjeta de informacion, ¡ para llamarme si es que me necesitan de nuevo! ¡Aljamdulilá!
Ahora, tengo que encontrar impresora.... pero finalmente, ¿no es un problema deseable?
peace
TwennyTwo
I dunno, my soul feels hispanoparlante, so forgive me if you don't read Spanish.
Me encuentro un poco perdida. No, y más que un poco.
Pero, ¿porqué?
Primero, es que siento traicionada. No solamente por el hecho del casamiento del niño, sino porque, otra vez me encuentro aquí, al medio año, sin casarme y sin prospetos en el área de casamiento. Por más que trato de negarlo, de ignorarlo, eso duele, mano. Duele mucho.
Faltan 30 días para mi vigesimo-octavo cumpleaños.
Tambien me siento apresionada de una manera súbtil, lo que me trae hasta la locura. Cuando yo llegue a mi lugar de empleo, lo dije al jefe bien claro: no soy una mujer sumamente organizada. Limpia, sí; organizada, no. Pero por entonces se le ha occurido no menos que dos veces a la mes condenarme por no ser organizada.
Hasta que, ahora no es que no soy organizada sino que me encuentro evitando, escaseando organizar. Primero porque, no sé cómo hacerlo. Y segundo, una llega a resentir mucho los característicos mas comentados, siento que me han dado hasta que sangra sin decir nada y estoy llegando al grito.
Además, me encantan los lugares organizados. No hay nadie que dé cursos de organizacion en universidad, pero eso es exactamente lo que preciso.
En otros lados, estaba hablando con una amiga el otro dia, y mencionó que un matrimonio que ella conozca estan pasando por problemas. Hasta me hizo hacer duaá por ellos, porque yo si intimamente entiendo lo que estan pasando: la mujer pasará muchas problemas en parir, y por entonces el hombre quiere casarse con otra mujer (son musulmanes y no permanezcan aquí en los EEUU). A ella le dará mucho si él tuviera otra matrimonio a la véz, y tampoco quiere divorciarse; él no quiere pasarse de su derecho de tener hijos y no quiere perjudicarle el salud a su primera mujer.
Ayyyyy que caso. Fíjate.
Aprecio mucho que por lo menos mi amiga no mencionó los especificos de la situación, ya que entiendo lo doloroso pueda ser si salga quiénes son.
Lo veo de ambos lados. Me habían dicho alguna vez que no podrìa tener hijos. Imaginate, ser mujer negra, alta, Y¿ esteríl? ¡ NUNCA me casaría! Especialmente en ésta comunidad de musulmanes, tan enfocados en procreación. Estaba muy nerviosa hasta que resolvieron lo que me pasaba. Y, a mi me encantan los niños; siempre he dicho que me gustaría tener a lo menos cinco. (jajaja, y todas mis amigas hasta hoy me dicen... espere hasta que tienes el primero, aver...)
Por eso es que, aunque no soy muy celosa, he caminado en los pasos de la mujer en ese matrimonio, y hice duà que Alá subjanaju wa taàla le resolviera lo que paso entre ella y su esposo.
Tambien lo veo por el ról del esposo. Imagina que te enamoras con un hombre, y tenías posibilidad de casarse con otro a la vez, es decir, tener matrimonio polígamo. Como te casaste "por amor", y amas al primer hombre, no lo quieres dejar. Pero a la vez, quieres cinco hijos- o por lo menos, dos, si Dios quiere- y el amor de tu vida, tu primer hombre, esta planteado a frente del vìa. ¿Què harías? Aunque le dolía mucho a mi esposo, no puedo decir que decidiera a favor de no casarme con hombre que me diera hijo. Y como quiera nadie va salir ileso de la situacion. Tengo que orar por ambos.
¿Qué mas? Aún estoy de recuperación del choque del otro día. De verdad salió que el seguro de la mujer habìa vencido hace tiempo, lo que llevó la compañia a negarlo, y por entonces mis rates van a subir, thanks! Lo que me preocupa es que cuando me cotejaron el nivel de glucosa en mi sangre estaba sumamente alta, indicación nueva que el diabetes genetica de mi familia me caza de nuevo. Cosa es, que cada vez que paso por el examen de ayuno, mis nùmeros y niveles salen bajitos. No lo entiendo, pues hay mas duaá que hacer. Cosa buena que salio del dia pésimo que era mi mièrcoles: actuè como intèrprete por un hombre que estaba alla con su gerente (ambos trabajadores en una compañia de comida muy popular), y no solamente me dieron certificado para comida gratis, pero el doctor y la gerente de su oficina estaban tan impresionados, que me pidieron una tarjeta de informacion, ¡ para llamarme si es que me necesitan de nuevo! ¡Aljamdulilá!
Ahora, tengo que encontrar impresora.... pero finalmente, ¿no es un problema deseable?
peace
TwennyTwo
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Things you don't say aloud
assalamu alaikum,
Sometimes I'm really constrained by the fact that people I know read this. Sometimes I don't care.
But a lot of times what I say here is what I wouldn't say aloud.
I knew Sunny was getting married. Turns out he's marrying the head of the Catty Crew.
BOOYAH, ya NAFS!!! Just when you thought you were SOMETHING SPECIAL!!
No, those feelings don't get any easier to handle as I get older, but my game face does.
Dag, the worst part is that since Catty1 will be May's SIL I can't even confide how much Catty1 gets on my nerves. Well, I guess this IS going to drive me toward better habits. Back to Allah. Silver linings everywhere.
I had 3 different sets of friends either get married or get engaged this week. I wish them all the best of blessings and happiness, in all sincerity. I just as sincerely wish I didn't know anything about all this wedded bliss. My game face is getting a heckuva workout.
And now I'm off tosoak my jainamaz pray.
peace
Sometimes I'm really constrained by the fact that people I know read this. Sometimes I don't care.
But a lot of times what I say here is what I wouldn't say aloud.
I knew Sunny was getting married. Turns out he's marrying the head of the Catty Crew.
BOOYAH, ya NAFS!!! Just when you thought you were SOMETHING SPECIAL!!
No, those feelings don't get any easier to handle as I get older, but my game face does.
Dag, the worst part is that since Catty1 will be May's SIL I can't even confide how much Catty1 gets on my nerves. Well, I guess this IS going to drive me toward better habits. Back to Allah. Silver linings everywhere.
I had 3 different sets of friends either get married or get engaged this week. I wish them all the best of blessings and happiness, in all sincerity. I just as sincerely wish I didn't know anything about all this wedded bliss. My game face is getting a heckuva workout.
And now I'm off to
peace
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Against pity parties
Assalamu Alaikum,
(There's a plea for your help for a certain group at the bottom of this entry- scroll down if you want your ajr the quick way.)
For reasons I don't care to remember, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself yesterday. I mean, I had the blues, those weepy whiny unshakeable doldrums. Not a happy place, you know?
Then, I talked to my mama. Still blue.
Then, I ate some food. Still blue.
Then I missed juma'a. Now REALLY blue (I forgot they changed the time since the last time I could go. Boo, hiss, daylight saving time!).
So I asked myself, when it is that I feel at my best- and the answer is when I'm helping someone else's need. There's really nothing that feels better than that, sometimes. Maybe that's something that Allah put in all of us- or maybe He requires us to give Zakah in order to make sure that we feel it once in a while. Wa Allahu Alim.
And then I started thinking that I needed to be actively thinking about other people. So I went ahead and made dhuhr and asr and made dua'a for some other people I know who really need adiyat to Allah. I mean, wow. I had the blues about some pretty insignificant stuff, compared to the worry they're facing.
Then, I got dressed and put on a little lip gloss (I was ACTIVELY kicking out the pity party, I needed some glimmer), and I went to Conservopolis's rally for Gaza. Again, just making dua'a for the people of Gaza while I was driving. If you've been on my FB, you know how I feel about the situation.
In order to get to the rally site I had to park my car at the masjid, and then walk, alone, for about 10 minutes. That was amazing, that walk. It was right after maghrib, the sky was amazing colors, but the street was dark enough to encourage thought. I'd forgotten about how crucial physical exercise can be. I got a chance to think things out.
We all stood on the corner with lights. I saw to my pleasure some unexpected friends there, from MAS. And some of my students, to hold my hand. We all said Surah al Fatiha, those of us who knew it, and then walked down the street, silently, with lights, to the masjid.
I was really feeling better at that point.
Anyway, I ended the day at MAS's Friday Social, and had a great time laughing with the women there, some excellent people. I really cut up, making people laugh. And to put a cherry on the great end to a horrible day, UmFarhan and Marya showed up (they said at the rally they'd probably be going home). And I went to sleep with that sense of release that only serious laughter in seriously good company can bring.
That day, with it's relatively light horrible beginning, had an excellent ending alHamdulillah. If I hadn't gone through that, I don't think I'd've been able to post about it, and so I wouldn't have posted below. SubhanAllah.
After I woke, I read this entry. Last week pretty much everyone in the country heard about the massacre in Southern California, where an ex-husband of a daughter at her parent's party on Dec. 24th dressed in a Santa suit and opened fire on the party. He later set the house on fire. Sylvia Ortega was killed as were eight of her relatives. As a result of that night, thirteen children were left totally orphaned, and two others lost one parent.
Remember that our prophet, my Allah bless him and give him peace, was an orphan. Imagine one of your children orphaned. Please give what you can. And if you absolutely cannot give (are you positive? Do you know the rewards of giving to orphans?), then please make dua'a for this family, the families of those lost and injured and under duress in Gaza, the West Bank, and Isra'il.
fimanillah (with faith in God),
TwennyTwo
(There's a plea for your help for a certain group at the bottom of this entry- scroll down if you want your ajr the quick way.)
For reasons I don't care to remember, I was feeling pretty sorry for myself yesterday. I mean, I had the blues, those weepy whiny unshakeable doldrums. Not a happy place, you know?
Then, I talked to my mama. Still blue.
Then, I ate some food. Still blue.
Then I missed juma'a. Now REALLY blue (I forgot they changed the time since the last time I could go. Boo, hiss, daylight saving time!).
So I asked myself, when it is that I feel at my best- and the answer is when I'm helping someone else's need. There's really nothing that feels better than that, sometimes. Maybe that's something that Allah put in all of us- or maybe He requires us to give Zakah in order to make sure that we feel it once in a while. Wa Allahu Alim.
And then I started thinking that I needed to be actively thinking about other people. So I went ahead and made dhuhr and asr and made dua'a for some other people I know who really need adiyat to Allah. I mean, wow. I had the blues about some pretty insignificant stuff, compared to the worry they're facing.
Then, I got dressed and put on a little lip gloss (I was ACTIVELY kicking out the pity party, I needed some glimmer), and I went to Conservopolis's rally for Gaza. Again, just making dua'a for the people of Gaza while I was driving. If you've been on my FB, you know how I feel about the situation.
In order to get to the rally site I had to park my car at the masjid, and then walk, alone, for about 10 minutes. That was amazing, that walk. It was right after maghrib, the sky was amazing colors, but the street was dark enough to encourage thought. I'd forgotten about how crucial physical exercise can be. I got a chance to think things out.
We all stood on the corner with lights. I saw to my pleasure some unexpected friends there, from MAS. And some of my students, to hold my hand. We all said Surah al Fatiha, those of us who knew it, and then walked down the street, silently, with lights, to the masjid.
I was really feeling better at that point.
Anyway, I ended the day at MAS's Friday Social, and had a great time laughing with the women there, some excellent people. I really cut up, making people laugh. And to put a cherry on the great end to a horrible day, UmFarhan and Marya showed up (they said at the rally they'd probably be going home). And I went to sleep with that sense of release that only serious laughter in seriously good company can bring.
That day, with it's relatively light horrible beginning, had an excellent ending alHamdulillah. If I hadn't gone through that, I don't think I'd've been able to post about it, and so I wouldn't have posted below. SubhanAllah.
After I woke, I read this entry. Last week pretty much everyone in the country heard about the massacre in Southern California, where an ex-husband of a daughter at her parent's party on Dec. 24th dressed in a Santa suit and opened fire on the party. He later set the house on fire. Sylvia Ortega was killed as were eight of her relatives. As a result of that night, thirteen children were left totally orphaned, and two others lost one parent.
Remember that our prophet, my Allah bless him and give him peace, was an orphan. Imagine one of your children orphaned. Please give what you can. And if you absolutely cannot give (are you positive? Do you know the rewards of giving to orphans?), then please make dua'a for this family, the families of those lost and injured and under duress in Gaza, the West Bank, and Isra'il.
fimanillah (with faith in God),
TwennyTwo
Thursday, January 01, 2009
Feliz Año 1430... o 2009
Assalamu Alaikum,
So lately I've been thinking about this whole thing of not celebrating anything but Eid. I like it and in reality that's how I roll; but it complicates my life. Because I live with my parents and all. So, for example, this year 1430 and 2009 began relatively closely to each other- which led to this scenario:
Me: Hi, I finally brought back the books! Made it just in time!
Holden the librarian: Oh! Happy New Year!
Me: Oh! Thanks! You know?
Holden: Know what?
Me: Oh, the Islamic New Year began yesterday. But Happy New Year to you, too. (totally embarrassed by that slip)
To add to it I got my own henna powder (and didn't have to sift it, can you believe that?) and so went about the past three days with henna patterns on both hands. I mixed it myself because I was trying to come up with a good recipe (psst... sifted powder, fresh squeezed and strained lemon juice, a little sugar, honey, and my secret ingredients- clove oil {substitute lavender oil for kids and preg. mamas) and eucalyptus oil... my henna is still BLACK looking, yo, it's excellent!) and so now JW is freaking out. "It wierds me out to hand you something when your hand looks like that... does it hurt?" I keep forgetting my hands look weird to other people. MashaAllah, my little islamically enclosed world is well insulated. I don't leave it except to go home and go to class.
I'm making dua'a for those we know aren't beginning this year well- I got into such a 'discussion' over on my FB over Gaza. I happen to have studied this in school, it makes me so sad and angry on so many levels. May Allah help the oppressed, and help the Muslims to be on the side of the righteous, may He continue to guide everyone to a resolution of this violence, and may He give comfort and solace to ALL of the grieving families and grant Jennah al Firdous, the highest heaven, to those killed injustly in His time, amin.
Please make dua'a for me. May this be the year that truly increases my iman, and keeps us all on the straight path. A year full of revealed goodness, of blessings and strength and success in all good things.
fimanillah
TwennyTwo
So lately I've been thinking about this whole thing of not celebrating anything but Eid. I like it and in reality that's how I roll; but it complicates my life. Because I live with my parents and all. So, for example, this year 1430 and 2009 began relatively closely to each other- which led to this scenario:
Me: Hi, I finally brought back the books! Made it just in time!
Holden the librarian: Oh! Happy New Year!
Me: Oh! Thanks! You know?
Holden: Know what?
Me: Oh, the Islamic New Year began yesterday. But Happy New Year to you, too. (totally embarrassed by that slip)
To add to it I got my own henna powder (and didn't have to sift it, can you believe that?) and so went about the past three days with henna patterns on both hands. I mixed it myself because I was trying to come up with a good recipe (psst... sifted powder, fresh squeezed and strained lemon juice, a little sugar, honey, and my secret ingredients- clove oil {substitute lavender oil for kids and preg. mamas) and eucalyptus oil... my henna is still BLACK looking, yo, it's excellent!) and so now JW is freaking out. "It wierds me out to hand you something when your hand looks like that... does it hurt?" I keep forgetting my hands look weird to other people. MashaAllah, my little islamically enclosed world is well insulated. I don't leave it except to go home and go to class.
I'm making dua'a for those we know aren't beginning this year well- I got into such a 'discussion' over on my FB over Gaza. I happen to have studied this in school, it makes me so sad and angry on so many levels. May Allah help the oppressed, and help the Muslims to be on the side of the righteous, may He continue to guide everyone to a resolution of this violence, and may He give comfort and solace to ALL of the grieving families and grant Jennah al Firdous, the highest heaven, to those killed injustly in His time, amin.
Please make dua'a for me. May this be the year that truly increases my iman, and keeps us all on the straight path. A year full of revealed goodness, of blessings and strength and success in all good things.
fimanillah
TwennyTwo
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
YOU are now officially everyone and their mama
Salaam Alaikum,
Rejection stinks. This is true. It happened when I was surrounded by about 100 teenagers, 9 of whom I was responsible for. Know what? That helped me get over it all the quicker. It wasn't easy, but the kids gave me a great excuse to not be around them for a couple of hours (they played a prank on the counselors, so I needed to go change my clothes) and I got in the pimp car (which, btw, had been scraped earlier by one of the campers' cars that week- now I have to paint it) and drove in it and stopped in the dark and thought dark thoughts and talked to God before returning to see the girls to sleep. When I was done I was raw, when I woke the next morning I was absolutely okay with the whole thing. Whew.
Moving along- someone else has asked about me. Most obvious draw: he's definitely established in life, has worked a couple of careers, and people I trust know him pretty well. Most obvious drawback? He's around 16 years older than I am.
*sigh* make dua'a please. Really. I'm serious. Even just a 'Allah, please give that sister who calls herself Twenny guidance amin' will help greatly.
That, and um if I haven't stated it baldly enough, I am pretty serious about getting married. So if you know me and you know somebody, mention me. All suggestions will be entertained.
Yeah, this guy said it pretty well, entertain yourself for 9 minutes of your life:
MYNA Camp was wonderful, mashaAllah. I had a relatively small cabin, with roughly the same age group- a little younger. There were challenging personalities and deep personalities. My assistant, A, was the head counselor for the girls, and another very good friend was also counselor. And really, I get along pretty well with all of the counselors who were there. There are certain ladies with whom I have ... an ambivalent relationship. And all of these women are pretty prominent, or rather from prominent and established families in the Conservopolis community.
The ones I don't mix well with were not there. You know I said alhamdulillah for that, and made dua'a for them as well since the reasons for their absences were very sad. It's weird. Just because we don't get along doesn't mean I don't wish them the best. This grownup thing takes getting used to.
The theme of the camp meant that we spent a LOT of time talking about the characteristics of Jennah and Jehennam. There were a couple of repeat speakers, including one of the organizers and one of the coordinators of the Fawakih program. Plus, people from the program itself came to visit, a welcome surprise.
The highlights of my week, besides community prayer all day every day, were the swim sessions (yay all-girls swimming, TWICE), being able to float and really listen to all of the kids responses and ideas in the various programming workshops, and the calligraphy workshops. InshaAllah men are really as oblivious as we think because Sonny's brother was the calligraphy teacher. (Now that I think on it, his wife may have told him I was interested anyhow. I don't want to ponder that anymore.) He didn't have ijaza, just experience in the past, but I enjoyed his very straightforward approach to teaching and positive criticism. Alhamdulillah I learned a lot, though, and it's something I may actually want to pursue. Conservopolis doesn't have any teachers, so that'll take doing. We'll see.
ISNA is coming, and I go back to teaching next week. This year, how it has flown!
peace
TwennyTwo
Rejection stinks. This is true. It happened when I was surrounded by about 100 teenagers, 9 of whom I was responsible for. Know what? That helped me get over it all the quicker. It wasn't easy, but the kids gave me a great excuse to not be around them for a couple of hours (they played a prank on the counselors, so I needed to go change my clothes) and I got in the pimp car (which, btw, had been scraped earlier by one of the campers' cars that week- now I have to paint it) and drove in it and stopped in the dark and thought dark thoughts and talked to God before returning to see the girls to sleep. When I was done I was raw, when I woke the next morning I was absolutely okay with the whole thing. Whew.
Moving along- someone else has asked about me. Most obvious draw: he's definitely established in life, has worked a couple of careers, and people I trust know him pretty well. Most obvious drawback? He's around 16 years older than I am.
*sigh* make dua'a please. Really. I'm serious. Even just a 'Allah, please give that sister who calls herself Twenny guidance amin' will help greatly.
That, and um if I haven't stated it baldly enough, I am pretty serious about getting married. So if you know me and you know somebody, mention me. All suggestions will be entertained.
Yeah, this guy said it pretty well, entertain yourself for 9 minutes of your life:
MYNA Camp was wonderful, mashaAllah. I had a relatively small cabin, with roughly the same age group- a little younger. There were challenging personalities and deep personalities. My assistant, A, was the head counselor for the girls, and another very good friend was also counselor. And really, I get along pretty well with all of the counselors who were there. There are certain ladies with whom I have ... an ambivalent relationship. And all of these women are pretty prominent, or rather from prominent and established families in the Conservopolis community.
The ones I don't mix well with were not there. You know I said alhamdulillah for that, and made dua'a for them as well since the reasons for their absences were very sad. It's weird. Just because we don't get along doesn't mean I don't wish them the best. This grownup thing takes getting used to.
The theme of the camp meant that we spent a LOT of time talking about the characteristics of Jennah and Jehennam. There were a couple of repeat speakers, including one of the organizers and one of the coordinators of the Fawakih program. Plus, people from the program itself came to visit, a welcome surprise.
The highlights of my week, besides community prayer all day every day, were the swim sessions (yay all-girls swimming, TWICE), being able to float and really listen to all of the kids responses and ideas in the various programming workshops, and the calligraphy workshops. InshaAllah men are really as oblivious as we think because Sonny's brother was the calligraphy teacher. (Now that I think on it, his wife may have told him I was interested anyhow. I don't want to ponder that anymore.) He didn't have ijaza, just experience in the past, but I enjoyed his very straightforward approach to teaching and positive criticism. Alhamdulillah I learned a lot, though, and it's something I may actually want to pursue. Conservopolis doesn't have any teachers, so that'll take doing. We'll see.
ISNA is coming, and I go back to teaching next week. This year, how it has flown!
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Meanwhile
assalamu alaikum,
My version of sabr has somehow become BK french fries. They crunch so tastily even though the inside is soft and gooey, just like I like it.
Today is the first anniversary of my grandmother's death. I made dua'a, but.
JW has officially lost his mind. I don't want to talk about it.
Fawakih did not come at a great time for me. I have less patience- or access to 'sabr'- than I like.
I'm not married. I'll be twenty seven on Sunday. One prospect 'ahem' let me know he was engaged today.
Somebody pass the ketchup.
My version of sabr has somehow become BK french fries. They crunch so tastily even though the inside is soft and gooey, just like I like it.
Today is the first anniversary of my grandmother's death. I made dua'a, but.
JW has officially lost his mind. I don't want to talk about it.
Fawakih did not come at a great time for me. I have less patience- or access to 'sabr'- than I like.
I'm not married. I'll be twenty seven on Sunday. One prospect 'ahem' let me know he was engaged today.
Somebody pass the ketchup.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
People are Hungry. What do I do about it?
Assalamu Alaikum,
First, I said I would talk about Fawakih. It has been hard but rewarding work, with an awesome series of speakers and opportunities. I do want to talk more about it, but I'm crunched for time! Intensive means just that.
And now, promise fulfilled, I have a challenge for every one who reads this.
What I wanted to talk about was hunger. When there are people who are hungry, we have to constantly agitate to make sure that our zakat gets to them.
I read this article, and earlier this year the ones linked inside it, and wanted to cry. I have been hungry in my lifetime. Even during that time I had food to eat once a day.
People are eating dirt in Haiti. Why are we not paying attention?
I know the article approaches from a nationalistic and racial perspective, and I'm ignoring that because the fact is that people. are. hungry. Really hungry. Eating dirt cookies hungry. That's crazy. And Haiti? Is closer to this mainland than Puerto Rico, which is a part of the USA. So proximity shouldn't be dictating things like this.
So. Do something. Small, like find a charity in Haiti (unfortunately mostly Christian) and donate. Or larger, like writing a letter to your congressional representative regarding our policies toward Haiti and countries in similar situations.
I'm sure there are other things to do, so if you have a suggestion, bring it up. But I challenge you right now, while you've already eaten in the past 24 hours and dirt had nothing (inshaAllah) to do with your meal. Do something for those who can't eat.
peace
TwennyTwo
First, I said I would talk about Fawakih. It has been hard but rewarding work, with an awesome series of speakers and opportunities. I do want to talk more about it, but I'm crunched for time! Intensive means just that.
And now, promise fulfilled, I have a challenge for every one who reads this.
What I wanted to talk about was hunger. When there are people who are hungry, we have to constantly agitate to make sure that our zakat gets to them.
I read this article, and earlier this year the ones linked inside it, and wanted to cry. I have been hungry in my lifetime. Even during that time I had food to eat once a day.
People are eating dirt in Haiti. Why are we not paying attention?
I know the article approaches from a nationalistic and racial perspective, and I'm ignoring that because the fact is that people. are. hungry. Really hungry. Eating dirt cookies hungry. That's crazy. And Haiti? Is closer to this mainland than Puerto Rico, which is a part of the USA. So proximity shouldn't be dictating things like this.
So. Do something. Small, like find a charity in Haiti (unfortunately mostly Christian) and donate. Or larger, like writing a letter to your congressional representative regarding our policies toward Haiti and countries in similar situations.
I'm sure there are other things to do, so if you have a suggestion, bring it up. But I challenge you right now, while you've already eaten in the past 24 hours and dirt had nothing (inshaAllah) to do with your meal. Do something for those who can't eat.
peace
TwennyTwo
Sunday, June 01, 2008
It's da firstadda muuunth...
assalamu alaikum,
Yesterday was a great day. The end to a hectic week, really. We went to an amusement park. I hadn't been in like 10 years. I was happy in the car after I dropped off one our MYNA girls. The sun shone. Before that, a couple days ago, I spoke for a couple hours to some very good friends who happen to be parents of students about what's been going on at the school. I've been working so hard that just good reflective adult conversation is such a sweet thing. I don't get it anywhere else. Maybe halqa, but we haven't had that in a couple weeks. Sinan said he'd talk to some friends of Farhan's, but- well, developments and my own changing feelings mean I'm not all that invested in that whole situation. Then he and Baji let me sleep in their awesome guest room. That rocked. The week was long, field day and graduations done, and yesterday evening, I was happy.
This morning, on the way to halaqa, my mood kinda tanked. I'm worried about JW again. His... personal hygiene has slipped recently. At least he's maintained his progress on the deen front- he is not an atheist. I worry that he's slipping. Maybe it's nothing. That's in the back of my head. I make dua'a every time I think about it.
It's the first day of the rest of my life. Today at halqa we were talking about various sahaba, may Allah be pleased with them. One was AbuDarda'. We read the story of how, when Umar went to inspect his province in Damascus, he discovered that AbuDarda''s pillow was only a saddle, and his covering a sheet barely good enough to keep off the chill, that they remembered the hadith of the Prophet (s) about letting your provisions be as much as those of a rider. That was so much food for thought for me. I've made intention to get things together in my house, but. We talked about Abu Bakr, and how he was so worried about the three or four things he left when he died, because the things we leave we will have to account for. I'm getting rid of the junk in my house. I've got to. It's cluttering my mind.
We have so much. Even when people in my life are literally going crazy. I have so much, alhamdulillah.
Happy June.
peace
TwennyTwo
Yesterday was a great day. The end to a hectic week, really. We went to an amusement park. I hadn't been in like 10 years. I was happy in the car after I dropped off one our MYNA girls. The sun shone. Before that, a couple days ago, I spoke for a couple hours to some very good friends who happen to be parents of students about what's been going on at the school. I've been working so hard that just good reflective adult conversation is such a sweet thing. I don't get it anywhere else. Maybe halqa, but we haven't had that in a couple weeks. Sinan said he'd talk to some friends of Farhan's, but- well, developments and my own changing feelings mean I'm not all that invested in that whole situation. Then he and Baji let me sleep in their awesome guest room. That rocked. The week was long, field day and graduations done, and yesterday evening, I was happy.
This morning, on the way to halaqa, my mood kinda tanked. I'm worried about JW again. His... personal hygiene has slipped recently. At least he's maintained his progress on the deen front- he is not an atheist. I worry that he's slipping. Maybe it's nothing. That's in the back of my head. I make dua'a every time I think about it.
It's the first day of the rest of my life. Today at halqa we were talking about various sahaba, may Allah be pleased with them. One was AbuDarda'. We read the story of how, when Umar went to inspect his province in Damascus, he discovered that AbuDarda''s pillow was only a saddle, and his covering a sheet barely good enough to keep off the chill, that they remembered the hadith of the Prophet (s) about letting your provisions be as much as those of a rider. That was so much food for thought for me. I've made intention to get things together in my house, but. We talked about Abu Bakr, and how he was so worried about the three or four things he left when he died, because the things we leave we will have to account for. I'm getting rid of the junk in my house. I've got to. It's cluttering my mind.
We have so much. Even when people in my life are literally going crazy. I have so much, alhamdulillah.
Happy June.
peace
TwennyTwo
Saturday, May 24, 2008
dua's para dudas
Assalamu Alaikum,
i find myself facing doubts, las dudas, otra vez.
i'm not smart enough, not skilled enough, not learned enough.
not patient enough, not forbearing enough.
llego a condenarme de nuevo. no soy la suficiente aceptable.
me? nowhere near pale enough or pretty enough, not short enough or thin enough.
not smooth enough, not plucked enough. not attractive- enough.
ni suficiente humilde, ni discreta, ni domestica
not motivated enough, not hardworking enough, not impartial enough, not logical- enough.
not organized enough or forward-looking enough; not brave nor innovative enough.
not careful enough. not consistent enough.
And the mirror I see shows the truth.
puede ser que las dudas son la realidad?
I need my reality and all i can do is hit the floor, on my face, wondering if I'm acceptable yet again. This isn't pretty.
pray, please.
i find myself facing doubts, las dudas, otra vez.
i'm not smart enough, not skilled enough, not learned enough.
not patient enough, not forbearing enough.
llego a condenarme de nuevo. no soy la suficiente aceptable.
me? nowhere near pale enough or pretty enough, not short enough or thin enough.
not smooth enough, not plucked enough. not attractive- enough.
ni suficiente humilde, ni discreta, ni domestica
not motivated enough, not hardworking enough, not impartial enough, not logical- enough.
not organized enough or forward-looking enough; not brave nor innovative enough.
not careful enough. not consistent enough.
And the mirror I see shows the truth.
puede ser que las dudas son la realidad?
I need my reality and all i can do is hit the floor, on my face, wondering if I'm acceptable yet again. This isn't pretty.
pray, please.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Off again
assalamu alaikum,
I had the most horrifying, terrifying, distressing conversation with my brother JW yesterday.
Apparently he is off his meds. And suicidal. And extremely depressed.
Please pray. For his sanity and health. For mine. For my entire family.
It's extremely stressful to know that I feel behind and inadequate at work and to be the one my brother wants to help 'prop' him mentally.
Yesterday was a great day of tutoring for me- until I was talking to JW at one point on my cell phone while driving (which I detest doing- driving on the cell, I mean) the most narrow hair-raisingly constructed highway in the region in the huge Pimp Car (tm) hearing him tell me, after I told him quite forcefully that suicide is not an option and we'll help him work this out, "I wasn't actually asking for permission."
Okay, so what were you doing, giving me notice?!
My response:
"Good, because you aren't getting it!"
Just, please, pray. I need a mental health day and I don't have one. I need reinforcement. Dua'a requested.
peace
TwennyTwo
I had the most horrifying, terrifying, distressing conversation with my brother JW yesterday.
Apparently he is off his meds. And suicidal. And extremely depressed.
Please pray. For his sanity and health. For mine. For my entire family.
It's extremely stressful to know that I feel behind and inadequate at work and to be the one my brother wants to help 'prop' him mentally.
Yesterday was a great day of tutoring for me- until I was talking to JW at one point on my cell phone while driving (which I detest doing- driving on the cell, I mean) the most narrow hair-raisingly constructed highway in the region in the huge Pimp Car (tm) hearing him tell me, after I told him quite forcefully that suicide is not an option and we'll help him work this out, "I wasn't actually asking for permission."
Okay, so what were you doing, giving me notice?!
My response:
"Good, because you aren't getting it!"
Just, please, pray. I need a mental health day and I don't have one. I need reinforcement. Dua'a requested.
peace
TwennyTwo
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Therapeutic.
assalamu alaikum,
I've come to just accept the fact that I need to be seeing a therapist- or at least someone I can talk to about various issues etc who has to keep them confidential and can help me identify hitches in my thinking and self-control. Yes, that would be a therapist. I asked my halaqa leader today if he knew of some and he said he'd forward the numbers to me.
When I left DC, I knew that being in Conservopolis would help me solve a lot of my financial issues, those related to the cost of living. I thought that I'd be able to put more of my cash toward bringing down my credit debt, and I was right about that. But certain things are causing me distress, and I don't know how to fix them. I see a repeating pattern that isn't cool. Typical example? Aversion to outward organization. I hate. i. mean. utterly. detest. creating lesson plans- which is a problem seeing as how I earn my living as a teacher. I don't like any sort of paperwork at all. What I live for and thrive on is the actual teaching, the more individualized work.
That plus the feeling of being ill at ease and slightly ill for months now, means that something is up.
Worst is that I don't feel comfortable telling that to my family. We've got enough issues as it is. I just don't have the fortitude to tell my mother, for example, that I think I'm totally depresed, that I don't feel I have the time or inclination to do the things required to do my job well. Keep in mind that naturally my family draws a lot of parallels between me and JW. He just came out of the hospital and is fighting taking his meds still. I know something is not right, and I do talk the day-to-day things out with my mother, which is an absolute lifesaver, but I'm just reluctant to tell her that I think I'm slipping and may need more. She told me today that she's recovering, that she feels better, after years of dealing with various illnesses, her own and my grandmother's. I don't want to pull her down now- she's my rock and my lifeboat and it's good to finally see her feeling well.
When it got really bad in portareeco, I went to see the severely overloaded shrink at the teacher's hospital. I just knew that the thoughts I was thinking were a little out of the bounds, that everything was getting messier and a little less sane daily, that I was way stressed. The shrink told me I'd be okay. She gave me pills. I didn't want to take them but when I did, I declare they saved my life. They were samples, and I don't know that she entered all of that into my medical file, but by the time they ran out I was on summer break, a little more able to deal, only working one job, and (though I didn't know it yet) very close to returning to the mainland, which I thought would help. It did, and it didn't, because though being near the ones who understand me best is crucial, it isn't the ultimate fix. I don't know what is. I do know I have to get out of my head.
This blog started as an experiment, on a dare from Sherry, who I don't think even blogs anymore. Come to think of it, she pulled me through when I was going through major blues even in college. She and Anita. Anyway, the point I was going to make is that it quickly became therapeutic. When I was physically isolated from the familiar, I had my friends inside the computer to pull me through. I still had horizons to explore. It helped to just talk stuff out, even if it was inside the computer. No matter how cautious you are and how stiff the boundary with those you don't know, caring comes through. It was very necessary to speak up, let my 'self' be free, examine myself and what's going on and yeah, get to know other people and care for them too. I sometimes felt- and feel- that what keeps me hanging on is knowing that someone out there really truly needs me, cares for me, wants to see me every day. Hmm.
No matter where, when I start shutting down, going inside my head, and talking noticeably less, something is up. I'm working on getting it together. And getting it out a bit more. Of course I'm making dua'a. And asking for more, because of course this is when my level of iman is ebbing. It suffers.
peace
TwennyTwo
I've come to just accept the fact that I need to be seeing a therapist- or at least someone I can talk to about various issues etc who has to keep them confidential and can help me identify hitches in my thinking and self-control. Yes, that would be a therapist. I asked my halaqa leader today if he knew of some and he said he'd forward the numbers to me.
When I left DC, I knew that being in Conservopolis would help me solve a lot of my financial issues, those related to the cost of living. I thought that I'd be able to put more of my cash toward bringing down my credit debt, and I was right about that. But certain things are causing me distress, and I don't know how to fix them. I see a repeating pattern that isn't cool. Typical example? Aversion to outward organization. I hate. i. mean. utterly. detest. creating lesson plans- which is a problem seeing as how I earn my living as a teacher. I don't like any sort of paperwork at all. What I live for and thrive on is the actual teaching, the more individualized work.
That plus the feeling of being ill at ease and slightly ill for months now, means that something is up.
Worst is that I don't feel comfortable telling that to my family. We've got enough issues as it is. I just don't have the fortitude to tell my mother, for example, that I think I'm totally depresed, that I don't feel I have the time or inclination to do the things required to do my job well. Keep in mind that naturally my family draws a lot of parallels between me and JW. He just came out of the hospital and is fighting taking his meds still. I know something is not right, and I do talk the day-to-day things out with my mother, which is an absolute lifesaver, but I'm just reluctant to tell her that I think I'm slipping and may need more. She told me today that she's recovering, that she feels better, after years of dealing with various illnesses, her own and my grandmother's. I don't want to pull her down now- she's my rock and my lifeboat and it's good to finally see her feeling well.
When it got really bad in portareeco, I went to see the severely overloaded shrink at the teacher's hospital. I just knew that the thoughts I was thinking were a little out of the bounds, that everything was getting messier and a little less sane daily, that I was way stressed. The shrink told me I'd be okay. She gave me pills. I didn't want to take them but when I did, I declare they saved my life. They were samples, and I don't know that she entered all of that into my medical file, but by the time they ran out I was on summer break, a little more able to deal, only working one job, and (though I didn't know it yet) very close to returning to the mainland, which I thought would help. It did, and it didn't, because though being near the ones who understand me best is crucial, it isn't the ultimate fix. I don't know what is. I do know I have to get out of my head.
This blog started as an experiment, on a dare from Sherry, who I don't think even blogs anymore. Come to think of it, she pulled me through when I was going through major blues even in college. She and Anita. Anyway, the point I was going to make is that it quickly became therapeutic. When I was physically isolated from the familiar, I had my friends inside the computer to pull me through. I still had horizons to explore. It helped to just talk stuff out, even if it was inside the computer. No matter how cautious you are and how stiff the boundary with those you don't know, caring comes through. It was very necessary to speak up, let my 'self' be free, examine myself and what's going on and yeah, get to know other people and care for them too. I sometimes felt- and feel- that what keeps me hanging on is knowing that someone out there really truly needs me, cares for me, wants to see me every day. Hmm.
No matter where, when I start shutting down, going inside my head, and talking noticeably less, something is up. I'm working on getting it together. And getting it out a bit more. Of course I'm making dua'a. And asking for more, because of course this is when my level of iman is ebbing. It suffers.
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Shock.
assalamu alaikum,
Alhamdulillah, my brother may leave the hospital some time today.
This is wonderful news and I'll be making dua'a for it to actually happen.
But.
Other shocking news: My baby cousin (barely 4 months) is dead and his older sister (also a toddler) was operated on last night. Apparently both were beaten by their caregiver while their mother, my cousin, was at work.
I am in shock. I cannot understand this. I do not. Audhu billah. I'm a zombie because I don't get it. Why? Why? Hurt a child that cannot speak? Hurt a bright innocent baby who brings joy to everyone she knows? Why? Why? Ya rabb...
The man is in custody and had better stay there, as the kids grandfather, my uncle, is understandably beyond furious. And more than half of that particular county (not in Conservopolis) is related to our family.
Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un.
Please pray for us all.
Alhamdulillah, my brother may leave the hospital some time today.
This is wonderful news and I'll be making dua'a for it to actually happen.
But.
Other shocking news: My baby cousin (barely 4 months) is dead and his older sister (also a toddler) was operated on last night. Apparently both were beaten by their caregiver while their mother, my cousin, was at work.
I am in shock. I cannot understand this. I do not. Audhu billah. I'm a zombie because I don't get it. Why? Why? Hurt a child that cannot speak? Hurt a bright innocent baby who brings joy to everyone she knows? Why? Why? Ya rabb...
The man is in custody and had better stay there, as the kids grandfather, my uncle, is understandably beyond furious. And more than half of that particular county (not in Conservopolis) is related to our family.
Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un.
Please pray for us all.
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Poised at the Exit: On 'Leaving the Deen' part I
Assalamu Alaikum wa rahmatullah wa barakatuh,
Aiight. First, you should know that this and the posts like it are in response to some internal Muslim thangs we got goin' on. But to get what I'm saying, please first go read Aaminah here and Umm Zaid (she started it! and not in a bad way, either, calm down) here.
This is what I wrote in reply to Aaminah's amazing post:
It's late, I'm tired, but this needs to be addressed. I'm one of the lucky ones in that I have no children and Alhamdulillah no diagnosed mental illnesses. But this comes at such a pertinent time for me; once AGAIN I'm the new Muslimah on the block, and I'm struggling to meet, to take ACTION and be a part of this Ummah and pull my own self away from all these darned precipices.
Umm Zaid said a couple days ago that it's the natural state of faith to increase and decrease. Well, aiight, but if it decreases and you don't know that, after the high, the rush of running to meet Allah and accept his offer of submission for the first time, wouldn't you feel empty? How do we take some serious action to reflect how serious this is?
My apologies if this is jumbled. It's late. And I'll continue later inshaAllah, but there are other things I want to talk about and miles to go before I sleep. Jazak Allah khair to Sis. Aaminah and Sis. Saraji Umm Zaid for writing and getting me started. It's on, let's see our Ummah get somewhere on this.
peace
Aiight. First, you should know that this and the posts like it are in response to some internal Muslim thangs we got goin' on. But to get what I'm saying, please first go read Aaminah here and Umm Zaid (she started it! and not in a bad way, either, calm down) here.
This is what I wrote in reply to Aaminah's amazing post:
ups.
Just went back and read the comments.
So, now that the um venting comment is done... I think I'll start here and move to my blog, and I do apologize for the long comment but I wanted to speak to y'all, here, too.
What AM I doing? Very little. I've had the position of the 'new one' in the community for... almost since I converted, actually, due to moves and such.
What could be done? What can I do? What would I like to see based on what I'm missing? Okay, let's talk about that, then:
1) Know where people are coming from. I just sat for a good 10 minutes after my colon up there thinking about what I, a new muslimah, would want people to know in order to help me.
First is, take some dawa classes and know what people might be coming from and what they're hoping for in Islam. That's not a joke.
Why?
Well, everyone is tired of seeing people with their hand out at the masjid. And yet everyone appreciates help when they need it. I came from a background where the religious institution was the FIRST resort where social help was needed. Need a ride to the service? If we don't have a van, let me see who lives close to you and can give you a ride. New to the area? Here, this is the paper list of what's going on here through the week, of course you're welcome to join us, doesn't matter if you have to come a bit late. Hungry? our institutional kitchen may have something to tide you, but we also know where you can go.
You know, so much of Islam is about denying the nafs, but when you come from a background where you're not sure how your soul will stay undamaged and still in your body, denying what you know are basic necessities is NOT what you want to hear. Neither are superficialities. Listen to new people. I think the first thing is to know what people are likely to NEED or REQUEST, intellectually as well as physically, and joyfully help your fellow muslim, born or discovered, feel like they're in a place where they will have care taken for them.
It's late, I'm tired, but this needs to be addressed. I'm one of the lucky ones in that I have no children and Alhamdulillah no diagnosed mental illnesses. But this comes at such a pertinent time for me; once AGAIN I'm the new Muslimah on the block, and I'm struggling to meet, to take ACTION and be a part of this Ummah and pull my own self away from all these darned precipices.
Umm Zaid said a couple days ago that it's the natural state of faith to increase and decrease. Well, aiight, but if it decreases and you don't know that, after the high, the rush of running to meet Allah and accept his offer of submission for the first time, wouldn't you feel empty? How do we take some serious action to reflect how serious this is?
My apologies if this is jumbled. It's late. And I'll continue later inshaAllah, but there are other things I want to talk about and miles to go before I sleep. Jazak Allah khair to Sis. Aaminah and Sis. Saraji Umm Zaid for writing and getting me started. It's on, let's see our Ummah get somewhere on this.
peace
Sunday, July 08, 2007
My grandmother has died
peace
inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un.
My grandmother died at 8:29 this morning. May God grant her peace and have mercy upon her.
Please pray for her, and her children, her husband, her sibs and all of the rest of us.
I have to blog it out. My sister doesn't want to talk, and my cell is nearly dead. And I have some whinery in here somewhere. Blog blog blog.
I'm so sad right now. You might think it's odd that I'm not really sad for my grandmother- she'd been very sick, so that I'm glad she nor her caregivers have to go through illness anymore. And I'm relieved that we don't have to have disputes between us anymore. Her being sick opened a door for me to forgive ( though I'm not done with that yet I have started). Mostly I'm grieving for my mother- she was at the nursing center with her this morning, just the two of them. Reminded me a lot of how Nzingha described being with her mother at her passing. And for my aunts, my grandmother's other daughters, as well. My aunt C., the one I lived with here when I came back from Puerto Rico, had just left the night before, so she made it back here. She'll have to make the trip again. I think she'll be the most deeply affected of all of them. She's so stoic, but the advent of my grandmother's illness has made her frantic in a way. I wish I could comfort her, but, true to pattern, I think I'm so annoying to her that I'd just irritate her. As I did my grandmother, a lot of times. *sigh*
Today is my remaining grandmother's birthday, so I called her. My grandparents live up the street from one another; technically the streets have different names since they're bisected by the main road that goes through Tuskegee, but we only have to cross one street to walk from the house of my mother's parents to that of my father's mother. She said she was grateful to have made it to another year- and that she was cooking for "yo mama'nem. Your mama has been up so late all these nights, They all been up these nights, they shouldn't have to be cookin' too". Her co-mother-in-law (why don't we have a term for this in English?!) died on her birthday and she started cooking, which is very "her".
Mama (I actually call her Mami which sounds like Mommy in English, but it's wierd to write that) asked me if I'd be able to come to Tuskegee. Ostensibly for the funeral. I want to go give her a hug and wait on her. Yup, go and serve my mama. I'm rather ambivalent about the funeral for a couple of reasons, but they all are some variation of the fact that I don't want my grandmother's funeral to become or enable a focus on my differences from and with my extended family. At all. And I want to avoid that completely. I selfishly don't want things to be about me, I don't want questions, I don't want to sing, I don't want to be overwhelmed, I just want to go hug my mama and fix her plates and rub her feet.
I know that depending on which scholar I listen to I'm not supposed to go to the funeral anyway. Part of me doesn't want to go. I don't like funerals. I don't like my grandparent's church (this is where my mother and all my aunts were married.) I prefer burials, when things are quiet and the body is returned to the earth. Islamic funeral prayers and burials are just my style, really.
But. My mother has asked it. So much of my life in Alabama has been funerals, looking at the orange and white sandy ground while preachers say things and people brush tissues over their faces. InshaAllah I'll go to Tuskegee and play things by ear from there.
Logistics won't be fun. I guess I'll be making the ride down and back with my youngest aunt and uncle. I'm broke and I'm looking for work; I don't know if the school where I'm teaching will actually hire me back for both morning and evening sessions (it's month to month work until I'm full time, one session left to teach for that to happen), and I don't know where the money to travel will come from. I have a final exam to administer on Thursday evening; if perhaps I give it on Wednesday and let the students turn in their final book reports on Thursday, I could turn in the paperwork in order to actually be able to leave on Thursday night or Friday morning... I was going to use the time to look for jobs but... and, oh, yeah, Friday just happens to be my 26th birthday. And I thought the last one sucked. At least now I don't have to wonder about what I'm going to do. And I'll get to be around my cousins and my sibs and my family. *sigh*. I'm reaching for Allah right now, to help me know how to act.
You know, my grandmother had a great life. She kicked ass. As much as we disagreed, she gave me the best gift I have- my mother. For that alone I should celebrate the fact that she was here. and ask for God to keep her now that she's not. I'm mixed up, but I know that I'm grateful for that much.
But my grandmother has died, and she didn't die alone; my mother was with her. Pray for them, pray for us.
peace
TwennyTwo
inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un.
My grandmother died at 8:29 this morning. May God grant her peace and have mercy upon her.
Please pray for her, and her children, her husband, her sibs and all of the rest of us.
I have to blog it out. My sister doesn't want to talk, and my cell is nearly dead. And I have some whinery in here somewhere. Blog blog blog.
I'm so sad right now. You might think it's odd that I'm not really sad for my grandmother- she'd been very sick, so that I'm glad she nor her caregivers have to go through illness anymore. And I'm relieved that we don't have to have disputes between us anymore. Her being sick opened a door for me to forgive ( though I'm not done with that yet I have started). Mostly I'm grieving for my mother- she was at the nursing center with her this morning, just the two of them. Reminded me a lot of how Nzingha described being with her mother at her passing. And for my aunts, my grandmother's other daughters, as well. My aunt C., the one I lived with here when I came back from Puerto Rico, had just left the night before, so she made it back here. She'll have to make the trip again. I think she'll be the most deeply affected of all of them. She's so stoic, but the advent of my grandmother's illness has made her frantic in a way. I wish I could comfort her, but, true to pattern, I think I'm so annoying to her that I'd just irritate her. As I did my grandmother, a lot of times. *sigh*
Today is my remaining grandmother's birthday, so I called her. My grandparents live up the street from one another; technically the streets have different names since they're bisected by the main road that goes through Tuskegee, but we only have to cross one street to walk from the house of my mother's parents to that of my father's mother. She said she was grateful to have made it to another year- and that she was cooking for "yo mama'nem. Your mama has been up so late all these nights, They all been up these nights, they shouldn't have to be cookin' too". Her co-mother-in-law (why don't we have a term for this in English?!) died on her birthday and she started cooking, which is very "her".
Mama (I actually call her Mami which sounds like Mommy in English, but it's wierd to write that) asked me if I'd be able to come to Tuskegee. Ostensibly for the funeral. I want to go give her a hug and wait on her. Yup, go and serve my mama. I'm rather ambivalent about the funeral for a couple of reasons, but they all are some variation of the fact that I don't want my grandmother's funeral to become or enable a focus on my differences from and with my extended family. At all. And I want to avoid that completely. I selfishly don't want things to be about me, I don't want questions, I don't want to sing, I don't want to be overwhelmed, I just want to go hug my mama and fix her plates and rub her feet.
I know that depending on which scholar I listen to I'm not supposed to go to the funeral anyway. Part of me doesn't want to go. I don't like funerals. I don't like my grandparent's church (this is where my mother and all my aunts were married.) I prefer burials, when things are quiet and the body is returned to the earth. Islamic funeral prayers and burials are just my style, really.
But. My mother has asked it. So much of my life in Alabama has been funerals, looking at the orange and white sandy ground while preachers say things and people brush tissues over their faces. InshaAllah I'll go to Tuskegee and play things by ear from there.
Logistics won't be fun. I guess I'll be making the ride down and back with my youngest aunt and uncle. I'm broke and I'm looking for work; I don't know if the school where I'm teaching will actually hire me back for both morning and evening sessions (it's month to month work until I'm full time, one session left to teach for that to happen), and I don't know where the money to travel will come from. I have a final exam to administer on Thursday evening; if perhaps I give it on Wednesday and let the students turn in their final book reports on Thursday, I could turn in the paperwork in order to actually be able to leave on Thursday night or Friday morning... I was going to use the time to look for jobs but... and, oh, yeah, Friday just happens to be my 26th birthday. And I thought the last one sucked. At least now I don't have to wonder about what I'm going to do. And I'll get to be around my cousins and my sibs and my family. *sigh*. I'm reaching for Allah right now, to help me know how to act.
You know, my grandmother had a great life. She kicked ass. As much as we disagreed, she gave me the best gift I have- my mother. For that alone I should celebrate the fact that she was here. and ask for God to keep her now that she's not. I'm mixed up, but I know that I'm grateful for that much.
But my grandmother has died, and she didn't die alone; my mother was with her. Pray for them, pray for us.
peace
TwennyTwo
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
Virginia Tech
peace,
I must've heard about it just as the news was coming out, around 10:45 AM or so.
In the next couple of hours, as the numbers rose, all I could do was make dua'a. Ya, Rabbi, surround those people with your safety and awareness. Keep them connected to You. Touch the heart of the shooter, Lord.
And as the toll went higher: Have mercy on the living and the dead. Mercy, please.
I live not too far from where this young man's parents lived. This is unfortunately the biggest news here. Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un.
peace
TwennyTwo
I must've heard about it just as the news was coming out, around 10:45 AM or so.
In the next couple of hours, as the numbers rose, all I could do was make dua'a. Ya, Rabbi, surround those people with your safety and awareness. Keep them connected to You. Touch the heart of the shooter, Lord.
And as the toll went higher: Have mercy on the living and the dead. Mercy, please.
I live not too far from where this young man's parents lived. This is unfortunately the biggest news here. Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'un.
peace
TwennyTwo
Saturday, February 07, 2004
on being tall and uninsured
Submitted to the Radical Women of Color Carnival : RadicalWoC2
If you don't like gross stuff, please skip the next paragraph or two.
What a world, what a day. My toenail fell off today, which is the next step in a long, long scary healthcare-free journey that started when I busted my big toe wide open on December 30th. I remember this quite acutely, because it was the day before my health insurance got cut off. (There, gross stuff done, you can read on now and see what happened.)
See, I was walking into this little tiendita (really like, a small bar, I guess) en Mayaguez, which is a gorgeous city on the eastern side of portareeco, because it was blazin' hot and I wanted a bottle of water. Being that I am over 6 feet tall, I sometimes miss little things on the ground. Like the quarter-inch difference between the outside and the inside floors of the bar. So I slide my sandaled foot right into the tile as I enter, and damaged my poor, pitiful, absolutely gorgeous toe that had done nothing to deserve such ill treatment. Dangit. OooooWEEEE that hurt.
Now, I'm in Mayaguez with a toe that is wide open, and I have to make a decision which I realize is more common than I thought: do I go to the Hospital, or not?
Today, looking back, I can understand why healthcare isn't a bigger issue on the presidential candidates's radar. Until you don't have any kind of health insurance, you don't understand just how crucial it is. Betcha hardly any of those there candidates have had insurance and then lost it. I have a Public Health minor, so insurance is something I'd thought quite a lot about, but not so much until I was injured on the point of not having any. It really changed my thinking.
My particular situation probably isn't uncommon. Last December was the sixth month after I graduated college, and my mother's insurance was going to drop me on the last day of the year. Being that I'm twennytwo and an official grownup and all.
I even had a job at that point, a relatively good one. I'm a teacher at a public middle school. But no health insurance. I had to ask about it for months, and no one really came up with a satisfactory answer. Should I have had a benefits orientation when I was hired? Certainly. Did I ask the teachers union representative at my school about it? Yup. I had to stay after the man for two months before he passed me a phone number. That phone number led to more hours of frustration before someone got around to telling me that that particular bureau handled the free healthcare for which I don't qualify. Did I spend enough time looking for private insurance? Of course. It was too expensive. The irony was that I earn too much, according to government calculations, to qualify for the puerto rican health care card, and I earned too little to afford most private insurance. Suing the people who own the bar was out of the question for me; THAT STEP SHOULD HAVE BEEN MARKED, but I should've been looking where I was going. I could see on their faces, while the woman offered to put isopropyl on it, that they were terrified I would sue. I couldn't be the typical lawsuit-hungry american in that situation. It was as much my fault as theirs. But no lawsuit and not registering with the police meant I was on my own if my toe fell off or got infected. As it did.
How many other people have passed this very way?
Shout if you can testify!
I called my mother way back in Cincinnati to tell her the news; she wanted me to visit the hospital. Me being my twennytwo year old stubborn self, decided not to. I wasn't dead, just bleeding and in pain. I wanted to fully taste the vagaries of life without health insurance. My friends Isabel and Pedro took me back to their house, where I cleaned my foot in a tub of cold water, slathered it with neosporin (with the pain killer in), and dosed myself with panadol and coquito. Dont worry, the coquito was alcohol free and darn good.
I managed to shake and salsa my way across the dance floor three days later at Isa and Pedro's wedding, bum foot and all. And for the next 5 weeks I kept up with my toes myself, with no insurance. I'm still alive, and most days I forgot all about it. Until today, when I'm rocking in my garden underneath a beautiful bright white moon and look down to see my toenail isn't there. Then, I thank God I eventually did find health insurance (Much love and strength to Nilda and Fernando G. for hooking me up with the right people to do so), so I don't have to freak out about losing some body part more important to my health.
And I don't have kids, don't have parents to care for, I'm not responsible for anybody but myself. Can you imagine if I had had that happen to a five year old child? I have plenty of twennytwo year old friends with kids older than that. i Imaginate !
I made it without healthcare insurance. The uncertainty and consequences of not having it are something I wouldn't wish on anyone, anywhere in the world. Especially not the twennysomethings who are just starting to take responsibility for the world. Not anyone whose situation could end up so much worse, way worse than me.
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