Ramadan 1438, May/June 2017.
In all honesty, I’ve never been so drained of the optimism, positivity and hopefulness that I’m usually seen with.
I still wasn’t at the high of the sine curve (see a previous post that I should link but effort) entering Ramadan. But who ever is?
Ever receive bad news when you least expect it? That’s how the first week of my Ramadan could be summed up. I never lost hope. And oh boy, would I have been right to. To the literal last moment where I felt the awfulness mould its way into my life, I still had hope.
I know I’m on the wrong side of optimistic. It was all that kept me going, to tell you the truth.
It’s fine, I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.
My hopefulness was the barrier to the awfulness suddenly taking centre stage. It is what it is.
Screw it, call it a conspiracy and move on.
Ramadan took lives with her. Many, many were killed in games that were bigger than they were and some of those happened close to home. The bigotry in the world is still at large. It’s hard to feel when these things happen, mass tragedy just feels like a label.
But we never lose hope. If anything, all I’ve learned is my excessive hopefulness is what we need now.
We need unity. We need love.
There was three days of an open iftar here, we helped out. To see people choose to come and understand where we come from, that’s unexpected. There’s few things that will unite the Muslim community too, but three days of free food was enough. It’s a bigger segment of this particular Ramadan.
The abstinence from food and drink was more about abstinence from abusing myself with what I do, the choices I make. Bar eating a vegetable every once in a while, switching into selflessness was nice. It was a weird bit of perspective, someone holding up the mirror to say – Hiba, maybe you shouldn’t do that because of x.
I spent the last section with love, the love I’ve ignored – my dear friends and family. My little community is weird. We’ve essentially grown up with each other, went through phases of love and hate, but as adults we can put all that aside and choose acceptance.
That’s pretty epic. And that’s what we need.
I. Am. Blessed. Although I’m putting out a raging fire with a glass, it’s being worked on.
There’s no be all and end all.
I’m finding her again, she’s back home.