Cold is shocking

October has been so painful. Ayeeyo, detox/withdrawal, readjustment, feeling all my numbed trauma that my meds helped keep at bay… Whenever I go out I find myself having to make an effort not to burst out in tears in the middle of the street. And every step feels like the last step before I collapse.

It’s one thing to dissociate from pain, to create distractions. But to have it rain down on you while you sit there, with no where to hide or run..

I was the primary caretaker of ayeeyo for the past 3 years bc I shared room with her and that gave me structure and something to do. And now everything is a void. Absolutely everything. And yet it’s not? I feel a fullness that I’m trying to ground, for the first time ever in my life. As if I’m coming home with a newborn baby without having prepared anything for it. No crib or nothing.

I feel like my legs are lined with embers. I know it passes and I’m grateful for all the wisdom I’ve gained from my healing bc it’s the only thing keeping me calm and collected. I know it’s an ugly storm but I know its function and I know it’s benevolent and I know it’ll get better.

But gosh. Having to create new neural pathways when the old, trauma-laden ones threaten you with a repeat of the past 14 years…

You know what I hate the most? I’ve had to figure this shit out completely on my own all through my late teens and all of my 20s, battling it secretly, patiently. And when people get a whiff of it, they’re quick to throw words like smothering a fire with a blanket. I know those words are borne from restlessness and a knee-jerk reaction to seeing others in pain. But those words, had I taken them in, would have smothered ME, for I was the fire and I needed to burn down. I did.

Anyway, I count the weeks. This is 6.

September 18th, midnight

Tonight I learnt that the body goes through labour both in birth and death. The soul arriving, the soul departing.

I don’t want to say this bc I can’t take it back, but it’s an inevitability. My grandma passed and it’s surreal. She’s so beautiful and I’ve never seen her so glowing in all these months of sickness and suffering. In the end, she was surrounded by all her loved ones, reminding her of the shahaadah, her raising her finger, and in the end she relaxed into eternal rest.

The difficulty is for us, not her. She’s released and relieved. This is the end of an era and I don’t know what this means. I don’t know who I am without her. But I’m so so so so so so grateful for this past year and a half.

I’m lying in the same room. People tried to get me away but really, I don’t feel there’s any difference.

I had a dream a few weeks ago where her soul was levitated above her body, in the process of death. It was so smooth. I was told her death had been postponed so many times, for us to find closure. I guess we were ready to let go.

She’s not only a grandma, but a mother figure. I’m so beyond grateful and blessed to have had this incredibly kind and caring matriarch in my life.

I don’t know what I’ll tell my nephew who is sleeping over at our place.

Co-regulation

I wonder how much I’ll be able to see when I no longer have to distract my focus
away from the pain
when the pain is something new hatching
needing the warmth of awareness to receive it

isn’t that what love is?

Tide

I believe that awareness is like the cosmic blood that delivers to us the nutrients we need, and removes from us the toxins we release.

This awareness is abundant because it’s like a panacea as it is the spirit of Allaah breathed into us when we came alive in our bodies. Everytime we regain awareness, we reconnect to Wholeness. Everytime we suppress or deny awareness, we separate and fragment. We get cut off.

Healing, then, isn’t something created but a return to the original blueprint, a restoration, a purification of everything that doesn’t belong. A remembrance.

A spiritual dialysis.

Wayward

I’ve found that all the words in the dictionary can describe the map in detail but it can’t capture the wholeness of the experience – of serendipity in walking the territory. The pauses are portals and I make sure that my words are animated by long periods of silence. I seek what magnetizes me and then write home about the strange journey there.

Inthrough you

I had a dream, many years ago, in which I was back at my old school (Islamic) in between a group of 3 religious sisters wearing niqaab, and 4 brothers wearing khamiis. Before us, at a distance was a block of rocky hills that were quite steep. My eye caught something, someone, camouflaged very well in the middle of the rocks, with its side facing us. I realized it was Iblees. Just as I was about to raise alarm, he broke free from the camouflage, swiveled forward and started breaking off chunks of the hills to throw at us. I told the groups to start running but to keep close to me. I was reading Qur’aan, perhaps aayatul kursi, and it created a protective field of light around us as we ran. For some reason, the field was only emanating from me.

I remember this dream as I had a realization that evil is stagnant and exerts its influence through being hidden and not alerting people to its true source. Awareness can’t be contained and power is static. That’s why manipulation and mind control are tools used by these forces. They induce trauma to shut the person down so that they can’t move in a cohesive manner. They trigger the amygdala, which is the offswitch of the human brain because it hijacks the rest of the brain and in particular, the frontal lobe which houses impulse control, future planning (executive functions) sequencing and comparing, attention, speech, memory formation, analyzing feelings of others.

I speculate that the frontal lobe is the masculine energy and the amygdala (arousal, memory, hormone secretion, emotional response) is the feminine. When the feminine is triggered, the masculine is hijacked and made inept.

Perhaps the two groups represented the masculine and feminine energies of my psyche and that through balancing them and leading them, the demonic attacks would be harmless.

Rich in losses

I’ve been going to therapy for 3 years, mainly to understand this ancestral baggage of Somalinimo. What I’ve learnt through what was activated and constellated and entangled in my psychic drama I’ve never heard or read it explained anywhere.

Something really stranged entered my psyche when I felt compelled to go to Somalia on a whim in the summer of 2004. It’s like I’ve been weaving or sewing or knitting things I’ve absorbed and observed along the way ; baadiye, townships in Somalia, the diaspora in Kenya, The West and Arab countries. I didn’t know, but I realize I was on an extensive field research commissioned by the divine.

Intense curiosity and passion that threatened to destroy me if I even thought about diverting from that path. You know I tried.

That’s why I trust in the divine wisdom. I see things playing out that I was being prepped for a decade in advance. I’d never have seen it if I gave up trust or hope.

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