Taking Risks

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I have taken many risks. I can’t remember when I became a risk-taker or for that matter when fear started to encroach upon my horizon and make me hesitant… I lost my sense-of self for a time… taking risks.  I became so bogged down in the consequences of my blind risk-taking, taking risks I didn’t even realise were such until retrospect as it characteristically does, stepped in with its hindsight-wisdom. I took risks and I paid the price of impulsivity and I lost my way for a time… I lost my way whilst being unaware of where it was I was going… I didn’t know the location, the destination was unknown and the purpose of the journey was hidden from me… veiled… unclear. I lost my way and became entrenched in the things one becomes entrenched in… and they broke me down… living ‘where they wild things are’. I finally learned to mistrust, after brightly claiming I wasn’t given to such, and became enmeshed in things that eroded my vitality… and left me crumbling… I tried to grasp that glowing ember; that fast extinguishing flame; that flickering pilot inside me, that recognised that I have a soul… that which responded to the right words… hidden within the mindy-riddle of his broken world. I ultimately crumbled and began to come apart, my tortured mind began to bear the brunt of my battered heart. I took a risk. I fled, I wandered, I tried to hold fast to who I’d been, I strove to go forward to who they said I should have been. I struck out into the unknown, casting off into the abyss…

I took the risk that He would catch me and… He did.

inna lillahi wa inna lilayhi raji’un

Open Road

The deserted road, like the weeks ahead, stretches out before us and the wind tosses our hair as shadows lengthen and evening approaches. Against the distant skyline stand the mountains… our destination and the unknown. We’ll reach our journey’s end under cover of darkness and watch the sun reappear from a new and unfamiliar vantage point in sha Allah. Life calls, adventure awaits and my two young companions are high on anticipation, alternating between the chatter of plans-in-the-making and the quietude of drinking it all in. I am filled with joyful contentment, and love… I could stay like this with them, in this moment, on this road, forever. My heart swells with gratitude to Allah… for these children, for this feeling, for bringing me to this through the years of pain, anguish and overwhelm… for supporting me even when I deserved His rebuke, for spurring me on when I had no more strength, for making me strong again through Him… for His guidance, His mercy… for stripping me of my attachment to this life, in order that I could learn to attach myself to Him and become whole, for this open road, for it all… my emotions rise as the sun starts to set and slip from view and I thank Him from my deepest core, from the depths of my bruised but happy heart.

19/08/2016

Rotten Apples

The words evoke a pungent smell of dank leaves and windfalls… memories of an orchard years before… a childhood recollection long forgotten but suddenly reawakened from the depths of my consciousness, where it has lain dormant, buried beneath the decades and the layers of debris that have settled. Unexpectedly unearthed now the sweet, heavy scent of rotten apples rises in my nostrils for a moment and scenes flit soundlessly across my mind’s eye; dappled sunshine on leaf-strewn grass, standing self-consciously amongst the trees with the neighbours’ children as their father speaks with the farmer, more fruit than we can carry gathered in our jumpers, piling into the back of their beat-up car to return home with bags of green and rubied treasures.

26.08.2016