
Credit: Depositphotos.com (2019)
I attended a training recently on personal development, and a memorable assignment given was to chart our journeys to self-actualization. But before you do that, the trainer advised us, you must be self-aware. So we each had to draw life maps constituting past events leading to our present occasion. I was appalled, I’d only known these people for 3 days, and I was expected to turn over and reveal the marking scheme to my person? Until the first went up, and dared the rest of us to be equally candid in our stories.
It wasn’t until I started drawing a chart of my journey that I noticed a pattern to my frame of mind. Going back to the 7 year old me, the 15 year old me, the 21 year old me was a revelation in how we choose to condition our minds to take in this world. What drove my outlook on life, my worries, my dreams, and my vision. It’s so easy to get caught up in running after the next big thing, and forget where it was you started. And it’s jarring to see how far you’ve come, with hardly a thought on how easy it was for that journey to take a completely different path. So here I was battling all these bizarre emotions dredged up when I thought back to how close I was to making this decision or choosing that offer, and feeling all urrghh I don’t want to do this in public! But it had to be done. With nary a sprinkling nor omission, none that I dared do when each of them had promised me honesty. I can’t stand self-amazement, when a majority of our lives are dictated by forces outside our control, but neither can I stand to be ungrateful. And what I have been is extremely fortunate but ungrateful.
There were many many highs and a few lows whose sadistic pleasure I derive in ruminating about. I was almost ashamed to stand there and tell this amazing group of people who’d told me stories about resilience and grit, at how easy my life has been. That I have a benevolent God who with a single tear rushes to give me the smallest of my desires, more than I ever ask for. A loving family that never demands or asks anything of me, and is the first to support the wildest of my dreams. And friends who have stuck by me throughout this journey, and never shun me however long, selfishly so, I take for myself. It astounds me that I find myself exactly where I have always dreamt of being. And yet I’m impatient, I’m greedy, I want everything to work out for me, and I dare to have a timeline for it. Isn’t this the height of arrogance?
Having recently experienced the loss of my father, I promised myself that I’d take to heart those things that were most important to us. That they’d be dearer to me than this shallow shallow vision that I have of myself and my place in this world. And yet I always think I’ll have time-I take it for granted that my Lord has been accommodating towards me, and that He’ll allow me to do those things that He loves at my own time. And I inexplicably seem to expect this kindness when I show none- how can He not judge me?
Thinking back to those that so recently left us in New Zealand, I wonder what their thoughts were at the sound of death. Did they ever think that that would be their last jum’a? That sister, Allah yarhamha, who met her death at the courtyard as she thought to turn back towards the House of Allah, or flee from the sound of hate. Did she have time to call to her Lord, did she have time to regret any mistakes, and what kind of mistakes? Did she have time to beg Him for His gardens? Did she have time to be happy and thankful to Him when shown her place in it? That old man, Allah yarhamhu, who saw evil, and still wished peace upon it. Was it his custom to invite peace into the House of Allah, or simply routine of habit that propelled him to utter those words before he went to face his Lord? Is it really, habit, that is?
That my lifestyle would be so immersed into my Creator, and what He loves, that my ending merely affirms this routine of habit? But it isn’t, you see. My life is reverent of this world and all it entails, and spares mere minutes for my other life, my eternal life. And I’m chock full of myself, and I think myself to be important. And I overestimate my relationship with my Lord, that He’ll forgive me, with nary a whisper for it, and be there for me no matter what. And that He’ll never forget me when He’s got billions of my kind, and I only have Him, and forget Him often.
Listening to my colleagues’ life maps reminded me how much of a priviledged life I have lived, how little I have been tested and how much I take for granted. I take for granted a slow ending to my life, allowing me much needed time to repent and flee back to my Lord. I take for granted how much love and sweetness I have tasted of this life, and how much bitterness others have. I take for granted this knowledge of my Creator and these insights into how best to live my life in the manner that He recommends to me, for my own peace and fulfillment in this world. And how much capacity for self-awareness He allows me, to shift paradigms of thoughts and habits, once so ingrained in my life, for His pleasure. That I can suddenly switch around and so desire this new way. And that I believe myself to be strong of will, when it’s my Lord who breathes it into me.
There are planes and planes of people inside us. And we don’t know how much we’re capable of until we make that commitment to probe, and tap further into these vast paradigms. There is so much goodness, and so much evil that we each have capacity for. And so much faith, so much belief in the goodness of our Creator and His intentions for our differences in this world. And His benevolence that goes eons. But we must do our parts. We must put in the work that He requires of us. One that is grateful of the favours we have which we are not entitled to, one that respects each other, that honours each other, and appreciates our diversity.
I don’t know how else to put this, so that the most ignorant man in the remotest desert of Australia understands it. We may look different, but you don’t really believe that we truly are, do you? Certainly not where it matters most. Deep within us, you see, we all have the same worries, the same dreams and desires out of this life. The same regrets. The same blood even, dare I say! Imagine it, because it’s true. There’s a lot more in common that we have if you but looked for it. And our differences are, and will not ever be enough to tap into these evil paradigms within us.
None of this. We’ve got stuff to do, let’s get to it. So on this day, my lovelies, have an accepting and affirming one will you?
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