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

It took two years of counselling, with a trauma specialist, and a further two-and-a-half years of mediation, six years, all told, of separation, for me to finally start to let go. It hasn’t been easy; I cope by not thinking about it where possible; it has occupied enough of my time and heart and intruded upon me long enough.

When it does encroach upon me, every now and then, I make dua and endeavour to re-center myself, in the moment. Allahu alam what the future holds… I never thought I would be here and who knows in six more years where any of us will be. This day, this breath as it leaves my body and my Iman are all that I have; I let that anchor me. Alhamdulillah.

Sometimes I’m shut off and I all but forget and sometimes I suddenly remember and my blood runs cold and I catch my breath. The knowledge that I will never see him again brings both panic and relief… not always in equal measure. As my daughter lies tossing and turning in the cot-bed she’s fast out-growing I sit in the fading light fighting the urge to dwell on the thoughts of him that writing has stirred.  Continue reading

I came to Islam after a lifetime of instability, uncertainty and ‘searching’… sometimes my searching was conscious, if not active or decided, and sometimes it was nothing more than a longing for connection; leading me in all but the desirable direction.

I wandered and strayed, had adventures and made mistakes. I experienced the exhilaration of reckless abandon; and the consequences of it. I tasted betrayal and abandonment, all manner of pain and confusion and resiliently ‘bounced back’ each time, seemingly no closer to the truth

As the flutters quickened within I became more certain in my being than I had ever been that there was an Originator… a Creator… this ‘happening’… this miracle unfolding… was too incredible to all have been by chance… all credit, as due, I attributed to One beyond my comprehension… suffice to say I was convinced of ‘something’, yet I didn’t truly seek to understand.

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Hayya ‘ala-l- falah

I remember waking in the still-dark early morning… becoming aware of its melodious pull as consciousness slowly resumed. I smiled involuntarily in the sleepy warmth of the unlit room as the stirring call reverberated in the hollow of my chest.

Even now the memory evokes the same glad euphoria that washed over me and ran through every inch of every cell of my body… a blissful awakening… an unexplained elation and gratitude at having woken to it once again.

It called me and I felt it.

Something deep inside me recognised it, though I didn’t know it then… though I neither understood nor sought to understand its message or the significance of those unfamiliar syllables … of those poignant beckonings, which resonated with that force that lives within… with that self, submerged and subdued by life, physicality and the wandering lostness of the thinking mind.

It called me home… called me, though I knew it not, to my life’s purpose…

It called me from sleep and to success.

The thoughts of ‘becoming’
Of stepping into the unknown
With only my faith in Allah
Becoming
Becoming whole

A living embodiment of my self
Fulfilling my destiny,
the person I know I am destined to be
Whose essence I. can. feel.
like the word on the tip of your tongue,
that won’t. quite. come.

Like the dream quickly fading your mind seeks
to recall
The me I was created to be,
Who has lain dormant
For. so. long.

An unrealised being,
like a soul kept on ice
Waiting to. be. born.

My dream- for now and for Then
is to reach and to seek and to grow,
weave together the strands
realise all those plans,
become whole.
May The Only Source of Remedy and Repose
ease my soul