Day Four

Rule 4
“Intellect and love are made of different materials. Intellect ties people in knots and risks nothing, but love dissolves all tangles and risks everything. Intellect is always cautious and advices, ‘Beware too much ecstasy’, whereas love says, ‘Oh, never mind! Take the plunge!’ Intellect does not easily break down, whereas love can effortlessly reduce itself to rubble. But treasures are hidden among ruins. A broken heart hides treasures.”

It's hard to push intellect aside for me. We pride ourselves on intellect, learning, and clear thought. I always admire people with high intellect, so it can never be a bad thing in my mind. So where do we draw the line? 

I don't think it's about shunning intellect, but rather being able to listen to our hearts to know the right thing to do. How many times have I, after a disagreement, looked at my husband and thought, "I could just hug him, I could say something nice right now..."? My heart knows that it's the right thing to do, the nice thing to do, but then my head and my nafs come on strong and say, "What if he pushes you away? Don't give in first. That means you're weak." Oh yes, it's all too familiar. I can tell you with certainty, though, that every time I've listened to my heart, it has worked wonders. It broke down walls of miscommunication, swept away hurt feelings, and acted as a balm. 

Please note that I am talking about disagreements or misunderstandings between two good but imperfect people and there is no foul play. That said, use your judgment in your own case. If someone is lying to you, cheating on you, abusing you, or playing you for a fool, let your intellect kick in and walk away. As Liz Lemon would say, "Deal-breaker!" Move on, your heart will thank you for it. 

I love the line in this rule, "A broken heart hides treasures." A heart that has been broken has been stretched, torn, pulled, taken to its outer limits and survived. It lacks arrogance, it is accepting, it does not judge. To be hurt and come out with a heart that isn't cold and stiff is a true gift. It takes risks, it knows it has been hurt and lived, and though it would rather not go through that again, it is strong. You are not used goods, and don't let anyone make you feel that way. 

The more I think about these rules, the more I see how beautiful a child's heart is. They won't think twice, even if you just scolded them, they will come and hug you. They will give presents, love letters, cards, and so on without a second thought. It's disarming and wonderful. Similarly, I don't hold back in apologizing to my children if I feel I have behaved badly (well, most of the time, sometimes it takes me a few minutes). 

This is a big deal for me because, as my husband will testify, I am terrible at apologizing. In my mind, I try my best to always do the right thing, which can make me quite sanctimonious and unapologetic. When I make a mistake, I feel it's a genuine mistake or that I've been pushed to act a certain way, and I find it very difficult to suck it up and just say, "Sorry". If there's one thing time teaches you, it's that there's no shame in making mistakes as long as you own up to them, don't repeat them, genuinely feel sorry...and express that! We are imperfect, we hurt people and it's unfortunate. Big up and make amends. 

The recent death of a very dear friend led to me making up with two people I had argued with over work (why? Over what? Can you guess? Yeeeees, nafs, that treacherous, ill-willed knave! So, so stupid and pointless in retrospect!). She would have been so happy had I swallowed my pride and made amends, and if I could go back in time and do it while she was alive, believe me, I wouldn't hesitate for one second. A few years ago, I hurt someone deeply due to misinformed assumptions. With some time and more information, I felt terrible and knew I'd acted like a jerk, but I was too scared to apologize, certain they would tell me to pi** off and rightly so. So when that person reached out to me first with a conciliatory message, I was truly humbled. I was knocked straight off my feet, no joke. It takes a BIG heart to reach out like that, and I will always be grateful for the chance to say sorry. 

It's corny, but there's truth to the line, "When you assume, you make an 'ass' out of 'u' and 'me'". (Yah, ok, I like corny humor, sue me.)

Moral of the story? For starters, don't be a jerk. Don't hurt others knowingly. If you do end up doing it even accidentally, a-pol-o-gize and vow not to do it again. Right now, ask yourself: is there someone you want to make amends with, someone you really miss? Message them now. For all you know, they are thinking of doing the same but are scared of taking the first step. Don't wait till it's too late. What's the worst that can happen? They won't respond nicely or at all. At least you'll know you kicked your own nafs in the butt, opened up your heart, and tried your best. Sounds like the path to freedom to me!

So, I had yoga again today, but I still felt t-i-r-e-d the whole day. My body really has a will of its own. What did that article say, that your gut has a "brain"? Oh, my gut has a brain alright - a stubborn little blighter. The brain that says, "gimmay cookies!" So while my head was saying, "so much to do", the brain in my gut was saying, "nap time!" They say when you start yoga, while you're unblocking years of stagnant muscles and energy (and YES, you can definitely feel it in certain exercises!), you can actually feel worse before you feel better. Like with the rules of love, with yoga you are working through layers of blockages: physical, emotional and, finally, spiritual. (Interesting similarity!) There is a suggestion I read that when you initially start yoga, also do something that keeps your endorphins up to complement until you really get all your yoga flows in order, but do NOT give up. The proof is in the pudding when I saw the two elderly ladies in my class (they've been doing this a while) do pose after pose, headstands and so on. My teacher assured me, "Soon you'll be doing headstands, too, don't worry." Ha. Ahahaha. Ahahahahahahaha! 

Day Three

Rule 3

“You can study God through everything and everyone in the universe, because God is not confined in a mosque, synagogue or church. But if you are still in need of knowing where exactly His abode is, there is only one place to look for him: in the heart of a true lover.”

Have you ever felt that God exists absolutely everywhere? In nature, in people, in science, in maths...I love the idea of a grand design, perfect in every minute detail, like fractal geometry. Book and theatre lovers, please read or see a play called "Arcadia" by Tom Stoppard (one of my favorites, who makes me feel so dwarfed and insignificant with his epic writing, whose creativity will make your spirit soar on the one hand, but will make the aspiring playwright in you want to curl up into a ball and die, because you can never equal that level of genius). 

I've always felt that if you tune in to the right frequency in your heart and mind, you'll see signs in everything. You'll find faith everywhere. Certain places have their significance, but truly blessed is the one who can feel that magic sitting exactly where they are. Happy is the one who talks to God as one talks to a companion, who not only reads or memorizes the words but understands the meaning. 

My elder kid told me that a lot of kids in class were saying that we should be afraid of God. I was appalled to hear it. I asked what the teacher said in response, and felt relief when I heard that the teacher said, "No, God is love!". But it made me wonder, who at home is filling such ideas into these kids' heads? 

I went to a Christian Missionary High School in Senegal. It was the only English language high school, so I wasn't spoiled for choice. We had chapel every Wednesday and Bible studies, which were absolutely fine and highly educational for me. Once a year, though, we had "Chapel Week". Half the day we had regular classes, and after lunch, we had marathon chapel sessions with guest speakers. Most of the missionaries there were Southern Baptists, and I was one of a handful of Muslim students. This led to a lot of questions at home, when I would ask my father about the differences between "them" and "us", and he would patiently talk to me and explain. 

One day during Chapel Week my senior year, this particularly zealous guest speaker decided to induce mass hysteria in the room well into the 3rd hour of his session. It started with how evil Disney movies were, then how evil Led Zeppelin's music was, there was lots of singing, clapping, and, eventually, tons of crying. He asked whoever was willing to throw the devil out of their lives and accept Jesus into their hearts as their Lord and Savior to come up to the front. I am not exaggerating when I say that in that big auditorium, other than the handful of non-Christian students, only 3 or 4 students remained standing in the back (I found out later on because they simply did not like the way he was trying to guilt everyone into going up to the front). We stood our ground, and he kept preaching fire and brimstone to those who weren't going up to the front. This guy was not kidding around. I was holding on to the chair in front of me with clenched knuckles, looking down, trying not to cry, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was one of the teachers, also my friend's mother, a wonderful Brazilian lady. She leaned in behind me and said softly, "This is not Jesus, T. Jesus is love." I think I did cry at that point, but tears of relief. In that moment, I believe she told me a universal truth that has stayed with me till this day, and I can never be grateful enough to her for it. 

Needless to say, I skipped Chapel for the rest of the week. I had learned whatever I was going to from it anyway. Faith is love. It is when zealots take it into their hands that they turn it into something unrecognizable, something exclusionary, something entirely about themselves and their need to establish their own supremacy (also refer to Rule 1). And that, boys and girls, is not MY faith. 

I loved Senegal, and I miss it dearly sometimes. I made good friends at school and did learn some valuable lessons about faith, but I don't miss the preaching. Those two years put me off preaching for good - whether it's religion, ANY religion, politics, ideology, etc - if I get a whiff of preachiness, I run in the other direction. 

The ability to love and care deeply exists in all of us. And I am no hippy but I do believe there is no problem love cannot solve. Including my anger. Since yelling is not an option anymore, when I am truly exasperated about something, I am having to find other ways of explaining myself. Mostly, I sound sarcastic, which doesn't work well at all with kids (or anyone, come to think of it, unless you're enjoying a good old game of repartee or you're Blackadder), and then I have to find better ways of getting the point across. Yes, I am actually having to explain why we don't do certain things. Exasperating as it can be, it's the love I have for these little people that will get me through, and tapping into the love they have in them. And bless them, they have gigantic amounts of it in their tiny bodies, don't they? 

Day Two

Rule 2

“The path to the Truth is a labour of the heart, not of the head. Make your heart your primary guide! Not your mind. Meet, challenge and ultimately prevail over your nafs with your heart. Knowing your ego will lead you to the knowledge of God.”

We spend our whole lives in the pursuit of rational, logical thought. I, myself, am a big fan of these things. The Vulcan-like pursuit of logic is, in my opinion, admirable. Imagine if we were all governed by logic, all the time?

Q: Shall I eat this entire packet of biscuits?

A: No, it will make you unhealthy. 

Q: Shall we go to war?

A: No, because it's all a joke invented by rich old men to get richer.

Q: Shall I smoke this cigarette?

A: What do you think, genius?

Q: Speeding unnecessarily is fun!

A: I give up on you, human.

Q: Let's go break some windows over a cartoon!

A: &*(^#*%^ @)*&$!

Sadly, humans are illogical, irrational, and completely incapable of self-governance. Most of us lack the moral compass to make good decisions and do the right thing. Life is complicated, we say. Emotions are complicated, we lament. What if, just what if, they weren't? Life, emotions... they can be as simple or as complicated as we want them to be.

A few years ago, I pulled a muscle while lifting a suitcase, and it hurt me to even breathe. I saw a physiotherapist for a few sessions, a Belgian lady. This woman fixed my muscular problem in one session, I just kept going back to her for fun. It was like talking to a life coach with a massage as a bonus. Ka-ching!

She asked me why my shoulders were so tense. I said it was because that's where I hold all my stress. She asked what I was stressed about. I started a nice list of this stresses me out, that stresses me out... And she said, "No. These things don't stress you out. You get stressed out by them."

*Cue hallelujah music and bright lights shining.*

Duh. It was that simple. I can't control anything in this world, except for my reactions to those things.

Most of our decisions are governed by our "nafs", which is the "false ego" (the pure ego is the heart at its best, which is what we should aim to listen to). Now, what if someone has a downright rotten heart? The premise is that the heart, once we truly understand it, cannot be rotten. It is one with the universe, and simply knows what the right thing is. What confuses the heart is the "nafs", all the negative ideas we have of what life is meant to be like, and what we are meant to do or be like.

In my life, the worst manifestation of my "nafs" is, "what will people think?" It pervades every aspect of your life: personal, professional, artistic. You let go of this one, and you can suddenly breathe again. With time, I am very, very slowly beginning to see it for what it is.

Is my "nafs" also the clue to my anger? Maybe to an extent. The thought that I am not in control or a good parent in the eyes of others could bring on a fit of rage, but it's not the whole answer. Even as I write this, there's so much fear of what others will think. Well, here is me letting go. *Imaginary high five with Shams.*

Ah, anger. You wicked mistress, you. So, how did Day One go? I got one sad face, and I blame it on the bedtime routine. Ok, I know, I know, I blame it on myself. It's an improvement from the day before though, when I would have had a page full of sad faces because my default mode was "Hulk".

I won't say it's not frustrating though. It's one thing to stop being SO angry, and that clearly has to stop; but disciplining children in this generation is no joke. They're wicked smart, they have a comeback to almost everything, and value hardly anything because most of their toys are disposable. So, if they, for instance, destroy a book that is very difficult to find, how can we get it across to them that it was not a good thing to do? You don't want your children to be afraid of everything, and as a result do absolutely nothing; however, you don't want them to be reckless because you couldn't say "no". There has to be a balance, consequences. How do we get our children to hear their own moral compass over their "nafs"?

So many questions, so much to work through, but I'm in this for the long haul. I think I'll have one biscuit after all (just the one... ok, ok, the third today, but come on, this anger management business is hard!).

40 Days of Love - Day One

I recently read Elif Shafak's "The Forty Rules of Love". At the risk of sounding clichéd, it felt like every instinct and question I had about faith had been answered in a bestselling work of fiction. Well, sort of - Rumi and Shams are not fictional characters, nor is the Mathnavi and Rumi's philosophy. Reading Shafak's novel, though, is merely to scratch the surface of Sufism. A mere whiff.

When I gave myself the nickname "Angry Mom" a few years back on some of my writing, it was not a joke. Since my second pregnancy, I have had rage issues. The difference in me was so stark, and I still can't explain what happened or why, simply that I would feel it welling up inside me, and I had no control over it. Small things set me off, things that don't make any real difference in life, and I could just ignore. It's a choice. At the same time, I feel the responsibility lies on me to shape my kids into human beings worth sending out into the world. Finding the balance between discipline and love is a daily struggle for me.

On Sunday, we met some amazing people, and one lady said, "I feel like I have woken up from a 10 year amnesia". I knew exactly what she meant. She had rediscovered her art after ten years, and was slowly remembering who she was, what music she used to listen to, her likes and dislikes, who she was as an individual. We give ourselves completely to our children when they are small, and it's wonderful and necessary; but soon they don't need us all the time, and we are left staring at the mirror, not recognizing the person staring back at us.

It was important for me and my husband to hear it from someone else, that I have not been going crazy, that others go through this as well. I don't pretend to understand exactly what I'm going through, and that's what this journey is about.

I have started doing certain things to bring some balance back in my life. I love the 40 Rules, and I feel that in my quest to rid myself of my rage and try and understand myself better, it might just be a good starting point. Others have tried the "40 Rules in 40 days" thing, so why not give it a try? I know that the actual crux of it is in addition to reading scripture and getting to the fourth level, and maybe that is my next step. Right now, though, I need to put "Angry Mom" to rest. I need to bring peace and sanity back in my home.

So, welcome to my crazy journey! Let's see what the next 40 days bring...

Disclaimer: If you're looking for a serious analysis of the 40 rules, you will want to go back to my best friend Google, and keep searching. If you're incapable of taking anything in life too seriously, then you're right where you need to be. 

Day One

Rule 1

“How we see God is a direct reflection of how we see ourselves. If God brings to mind mostly fear and blame, it means there is too much fear and blame welled inside us. If we see God as full of love and compassion, so are we.”

As George Takei would say, "Ohhhh Myyyyyyy". Talk about a loaded gun. My immediate thoughts go out to all the darling people I see preaching brimstone and fire, hell and punishment, rewards only if you recite abc xyz number of times, reducing religion to formula. I have never been able to see God that way, and hearing of Him that way has made me uneasy since I was a child. 

But hey, c'mon, T, that's not the point. WWSS - What Would Shams Say? He'd say, stop worrying about what the others are up to. Worry about yourself. 

I made the decision to make today Day 1, well, today. I was in yoga class (I've only completed my first month, but I do enjoy it a lot), and our teacher was making us breathe all kinds of crazy breaths. In that lovely, light-headed state, I decided, that's it. No more yelling, T, no more. Be zen. When you feel like ripping someone's head off, look at it like it's an angry red ball in front of you, and let it float away.

Ah yes, yoga breathing makes you light-headed and happy in that very moment, and you feel like you can do just about anything. But my favorite part of yoga class is the nap-time at the end. I mean, um, the relaxation / meditation part. Pfft, of course I don't nap or sometimes wake myself up by accidentally snoring or anything. Moving on.

So, how did day one go? I made behavior charts for the girls AND myself. If we yell or behave badly, we get a sad face. If we are nice, we get a happy face. Yes, I get a chart, too, because I am trying to keep myself in check, and I guess move from a totalitarian regime to a democratic household. Hey, if Pakistan can do it, so can I!

I've had a few spells of scolding today, but no actual yelling. So, ok. Not a bad start. That said, we still have the bedtime routine to go, so... wish me luck!

springtime blues

Ah, spring. So beautiful, so alive, so... lethal. For allergy sufferers, it's the most painful time of the year. On the one hand, you want to enjoy the great outdoors, mother nature, blow some dandelions and have picnics on the grass. Sadly, about five minutes into it, you wish you could cut off your nose. Islamabad is especially brutal in this respect - its beauty in the spring is unparalleled. It is, also, the allergy capital of the world, and the excessive construction is making it worse, as I am witnessing from status updates by countless friends. Allergy sufferers, let us unite and... and... oh, sod it. All this sneezing has made me too tired to think. 

on "the life-changing magic of tidying up", a.k.a. the konmari method

decisions, decisions