There’s no honour in ego

I just realized that we’re encouraged to do, take action, instead of feeling emotions. To put distance between the soul and mind through busy work. To work oneself into numbness.

Can I just live

Do I have high expectations for myself? Maybe. Maybe I hold on to impossible expectations because for a very long while it’s been the only way I could conjure an end to the endless insanity. Perhaps I conflate expectations with hope. Perhaps sky-high ambitions were the only way I’d remember that the blue sky doesn’t disappear with the dusk. It’ll be here tomorrow, even when my dreams and plans aren’t.

Jenga

I’ve tried to find safety but there’s no safety to be found that is whole. The whole is what you’re born into, and through. The only thing I know with an unwavering commitment is that Allaah is the Truth. Big T. Everything else.. even myself, I don’t know because my knowledge and perception is always limited. I don’t trust my scope of understanding, but rely on revelation. I die to every moment so that Allaah can recreate me in the next. I empty myself so that I can receive afresh.

In my body

I wish that… the broken pieces in me be animated with the life of my soul.. that they get to feel love even as they are broken. I always pursued a dualistic kind of healing where wound and love were mutually exclusive.. I hated my pain and I didn’t want to feel it, much less make it feel love. This, while the parts of me in pain were the most parched and desperate for Allaah’s love. Yet I banished it into a purgatory limbo.. Away from the shade of divine mercy. Twisted huh? This body wasn’t meant to be holy. It’s hollow. It’s meant to be grounded in the imperfection of this world, while holding space for the soul to animate it. I… never envisioned such a coexistence. Perhaps because it’s not a model I’ve ever seen in the world. A true inner balance of feminine and masculine, of heaven and earth, of day and night, of dark and light. I wasn’t supposed to attain perfection, but I was supposed to connect to it through Allaah. But how can I do that when I’m steeped in war against what Allaah created me to be? How can I connect to Allaah through aspects I vehemently reject and blind myself to? How do I see that nothing is out of order when shame clings to my every fibre and is reflected back and reaffirmed by the outside world whenever I lag or miss a beat? How can I see what’s in the distance when I’m running for my life, from my life, frantically trying to enact the illusions forced down my throat in the hopes of acceptance?

You don’t need to prove what your heart already knows

Most knowledge is not beneficial. The energy we put into processing it and the space it takes up in us after we integrate it is more valuable than the knowledge itself. And because knowledge is practically infinite and we’re finite, it’s important that we search for what complements us and makes it easier to understand what our emotions and reactions to external events mean. In other words, we ought to seek that knowledge which helps decipher the divine lessons in our lives. Knowledge is just a means to translate the divine directions and higher energies into what’s intelligible in our 3D realm. When it becomes an end in itself, it’s weaponized to take advantage of those who aren’t aware and to create hegemonies and occultism.

Iblees is a prime example. He had intricate knowledge and yet that knowledge blinded him to what was essential.

Schoolitis

Anything related to academia makes me nauseated. Literally. It feels grey. Tastes like old newspapers. Smells like rust. If I insist on listening or reading the academic bs, I develop a pressured pain in my temples. Almost like staring into a blazingly bright light or the sun at its zenith. My mouth becomes dry. I furrow my brows, squint. Jaws clenched.I start hearing a static noise in my ears. At first it’s faint in one ear. Then, it eagerly engages both of them. I start feeling claustrophobic, like my entire soul is confined to my chest. Panic attack brewing.

Drop. The. Book. And. Run!

From my windowsill

My mind is blocking the view. I’m ready to die just to be able to witness the stupendous beauty of Allaah’s design. Observing His signature in the world is far more exhilarating and existentially fulfilling than any masterwork of mine. My magnum opus will be undoing myself to receive the divine blueprints. To actually feel it woven into the fabric of the life that connects us all. To be able to connect the dots and make out the patterns that were previously invisible to me… that’s the closest thing to heaven on earth, I think.

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