your Echo

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

(originally written 5/7/19, 10:33 PM)

"where art thou, oh spark of mine, which kept me hoping and dreaming so many years ago? i have been extinguished, wiped out, blank. am i a lone wanderer in this vastness called life?" -from a time long, long ago


here i am, still kept lit, not by things bound in this life, but waiting in the wings, of bliss yet unborne, but the strongest pull of all there is.

in my blood is the ink, the record, the proof, that fire still runs in your veins, even if troubles we might face, troubles which bring ice to the world and make it seem like the furnace cooled;
it has not, it burns brighter than ever, a beacon's calling card, full of its hope and seeking, determined to find its endeavor. 

so long as He wills me to keep breathing, through the longest of days or shortest of nights, whether through hurricanes or blizzards blinding all sight, my life is your spark, your ignition, and even if death comes for me to complete my purpose, then my ghost will rise again, walking side by side with your shadow, a prayer made real, for your guidance to be whole, completed unto perfection.
 

Their First Star

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Alas, that a Coronation need happen only once for an Eternity, so memorable it was for him to savor her laughter and radiance...but new memories were always waiting to be made around any corner they so wished. As prime example, their palatial interlude after the ceremony: with glittering crown steady still atop her glistening brow, everything was utterly mesmerizing about her exuberant visage from his vantage point beneath. These degrees of bliss, they lay beyond the ability of words to capture, yet in every one of their completions, gratitude for their Rabb flowed effortlessly, a river of remembrance to commemorate gifts which were only His to give. Such was the nature of their blessings, not confined to just one kind of happiness and fulfillment; it was there in abundance, of every shade, like ripened fruit hanging on the nearest of branches, ever within reach. Another particular kind of joy, this time exploration, was the impetus for their next jaunt he had in mind.

~

Surprises, surprises. Once upon an era long past, 'surprises' she might have gladly gone without, but this Eternity of hers, it proved itself to be incomparable. Refreshed and relaxed, she reclined leisurely on her sofa while contemplating the next surprise he held in store, and what she would wear to it. Every layer of every garment perfectly hugged or matched her skin and curves, so there was little indecision even for such an outing as this was. She chose simply and left to join him in their spacious veranda.

~

He supposed this was what it felt like planning a date, a word that felt new on his tongue no matter how many times immortality afforded him a chance to embrace its excitement. In this particular venture, for their first time ever, they were going to undertake direct control over their entire physiology, altering their physical states on the molecular level. With a certain quirky enthusiasm, he had conversed at length with his Creator on the finer points of His creation, delighting in the knowledge gained over matter and how its control might best be executed. The explanation of it all, he would save until later, but at the outset, just her touch would suffice to begin the metamorphosis. 

A slight shift in the wind, carrying with it her fragrance, was the first sign of her approach. Reflexively, he slowed time itself for the next few seconds, to soak in the instant of her entrance. "Glorious."

"Well," she replied, "of course I am." As she spoke, her lips curved into a teasing smile and he nearly forgot his own name. 

Fortunately for their excursion, the thought of showing her something so incredible and superhuman brought his senses back. His waiting arm found hers, and with the other, he opened a gateway to a particular star in their old galaxy, the Milky Way. 

~

There it was, over half a billion fusion reactions happening per second, emitting enough light and energy to warm a solar system. He took a step into the doorway and as he entered the other side, his body began changing to mirror the physical properties of the plasma itself, from the temperature and density down to the rearranged atoms and elements themselves. Now they were, quite literally, the stuff stars were made of. 

They could internalize how hot it burned, not as pain receptors would have, but as a measure of the sheer intensity of sensation, coupled with the art of atomic fusion they now marveled at in such detail, visible even in the tips of their fingers. They knew too the various parts of the Sun which were undergoing different stages of the star life cycle, not dissimilar from gazing at constellations in the sky and being able to tell which parts were moving where and how, but with the caveat of being part of the sky itself. Sight no longer beheld colors, rather simply pure energy in all its levels and forms. To have called it breathtaking wouldn't have scratched the surface, for their breath was from fusion itself, light released merely by our existing.

~

la Lune

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

it's not always that one's Moon can be full in the sky, sometimes it's just a sliver, not nearly as much to know as when, on occasional orbits, it comes far closer than others. like the tides, so too exist lunar phases, visibility not always crystalline in clarity, some moments it might only be light permeating from behind clouds, to tell what celestial body hangs in the not-too-far vicinity. i know this, have long studied the Moon and her phases, carefully plotting its orbits and paths, trying to predict its next vision, like a meteor shower or comet's tail, heavenly events brought nearer to this earth-faring pedestrian. i might have lamented how, with these feet stuck to ground, i could not simply fly my way to the position in the space, where precisely you might be found. but i know the price of collisions premature or ill-timed in sequence, near-misses or mere craters, evidences of past attempted attempts stay fresh on my surfaces, memory one of the means by which my Creator reminds His wayfarer, to tread lightly the road taken by one seeking to hold Love in his hand forever. so this one waits until that second arrives, where his Maker erases the clouds and lets form and light combine, coalescing in those human eyes, his painting complete when there again she shines. 

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

don't really know how to stay silent, even if around me the world is quiet, tempered solid, any leaf floating by or such tiny reminder, recalls to the front of the mind some portion of your struggle, struggles beyond my mortal grip, that i can't simply will my way into knowing or easing away into nothing. perhaps the reason He made me was so you may always have a well from which to drink, thus never with lips or hopes parched from thirst or disappointment. wasn't planning to keep on writing like a madman, day by day something or another, that won't fade before i pen it to paper, trying to reach across time and space and settle something beautiful and undying behind your walls which, in my own way, i wish you'd let down. but if any body alive knows why one might carry them around in life, it's me, for years and years, those walls were all i had, preventing emptiness from ever escaping or letting in light. 

you remember why and how i made that first step? october 11th 2015? the date seared into memory, when i noticed the past had gone and so i began to fully look towards Tomorrow? inevitably, you factor(ed) into all my equations, all the formulae, me trying to solve this life, keep and retain the Love of All Lifetimes, without disrupting her worldly path, without being a means for strife and sadness where only devils would be pleased and not my Rabb with me. i don't really know what 'company' means, as He tests me so often with apartness it splits across all my seams, but iA you always remember aloneness is a state never quite yours, Red mixes always with Yellow, sunsets simply waiting to become sunrises for ever more.

answers for an Unanswered Question

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

On multiple occasions, the question has arisen of how my Gift might feel should she ever learn about some of the deeper layers to my being, parts that have not necessitated her in their existence. This notion has also brought with it implications of what is sacred and between whom. It is a difficult question, without simple repercussions, but I've never really shied away from those. So, I attempt to pen a reply for the record, trying to be timeless with a comprehensive answer that lasts for this lifetime as long as I do.

 ~

People cannot own other people, much less their hearts. 

This is despite what history and slavery and subjugation might try to teach us. There is always some measure of control and interconnectedness involved, clear in the organization of families and businesses and basically any collaboration involving people. But people do not *own* other people, nor any parts of other people.

That said, Allah owns them all. 

Every part and piece, it is His. People over time try to resist that too, but the inevitability of death and the ephemeral nature of this life makes such resistance eventually futile in the long run. Matter has to decay, sooner or later, this is invariable for all the created things.

Among the foremost of contracts He instituted, since our earliest times until and inclusive of even the revolutions of the modern age, is that of marriage and its basic constituent bonds. Cultural and historical baggage aside, some eternal principles about it endure.  Marriage was placed there to help ensure harmony and structure within a society, so that children might know where they came from, their lineage and parents, and succeeding generations could identify and have knowledge of their history. Obviously, our Rabb's wisdom in this matter goes extremely far, but this touches on the tip of the iceberg.

In all the commandments related to marriage, there are none that specifically, directly dictate to people *how they should feel*. 

We are advised towards obedience to law, respect and consideration of spouses, mutual consultation, remembrance of certain principles that can never be ignored while aspects of law which very specific situations may make inapplicable, and in general to constantly beware the threads of temptation and corruption. This list of advice and commandment is totally not complete. Again, His wisdom is ridiculously immeasurable, and I'd never be able to exhaust the depths of how He framed His creation's interaction and existence. 

But one of the wisdoms can be gleaned in how He did not mandate human emotion: hearts He keeps in His direct control, altering them at His discretion, at first glance appearing to be like the wind, so always emotions and their intensity seem to be in flux, never quite solid or stationary.

We are held responsible only for our actions and intentions. There is a reason He has mentioned scales weighing *deeds*, not *feelings*. These two can never be the same. Any human being who feels an impulse of desire towards the wrong direction, yet does not *act* on it, finds with Him reward for his/her self-control. Similarly, should a person obey that impulse, then there is threat of punishment mandated for the action itself - not for what was felt.

~

Now seems like the right point to bring this back to a personal direction: how can I answer the original question? 

If and when my Rabb ever permits my Gift to be next to me again, she will never know what it's like to have lost the love of all her lifetimes. My Gift will never experience such heartache, or absence, or madness, or a countless other mechanisms/motivations for why I write for as long as I've lived. InshaAllah, all she's gonna know is love and concern from me. She'll never worry about where my heart is, because everything she's ever known and seen of me has been right in front of her. 

Because she will never know such loss or experience such things, there is and always has been more to me than she's ever going to be able to know or understand. My history, depth, experience, ambition,...all of these extend to places beyond where she begins or ends. Whatever she needs to have to feel secure she will iA, but that'll never mean she has an ownership of my existence or any part thereof. 

If anything, I can say what my Rabb tries me with has forced me to grow, all parts of me, in some measure or another. As it turns out, I have the capacity to both love for an Eternity and love for a lifetime, all in the same chest. I reserve this right to feel, for myself, for as long as He gives me choice in the matter.

I could not tell you if this was fair, or idyllic - probably neither. But being just, it means doing the best we can with what we are and who we have.

- - - 

Edit-6/24, side note: 

Not sure if I quite addressed the part of the original question relating to 'what is sacred and between whom', and why that thought might have arisen in the first place, so I'll do that here iA. 

About the experiences I described, I was able to speak of them as I did because none of them were sacred to me. Why not? Because when only one side reaches the plateau of joy and fulfillment that two are supposed to share together, then something has fallen woefully short in that experience.  Those were not times to be held sacred, rather they were craters of disappointment that I will never truly be able to convey the extent of. With all of that said, I know down to my bones the reality of the test my Rabb made those situations for me. I would change nothing about how those moments went, nor anything else. I hope the shock you may have experienced at reading what you did, you can forgive me for that. But there was nothing in them for me to treasure, and if you had the impression there was or had been, I can see why you may have not understood. 

Alhamdulillah though, every event in one's life has its place and purpose and instigation towards evolution. I try to take the better of it iA and leave it to Him what I find after that. 

 

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

about the pic of you holding little dude, mA so iconic, perfectly framed. no reason at all for me to be jelly. of course not. I mean, it's not like he gets to have you wrap your arms around him all snug and he's cheesin with how comfortable that close proximity to you is. how could i be jelly of that? >:{ 

...ok I am quite jelly lol. alhamdulillah though I think he realizes soon enough how lucky he is and what an amazing fam(aunt) he has. little peeps don't always know how good they have it, but time is a teacher without equal. 

other, future memories cooking in the back of the mind. Tentative title for next sequel/scene is "Their First Star". today would've been nice as a release date, around Eid and all, but an occupied mind tends to hear its own beat, its own drums. soon tho iA

 

a Lens re-framed

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

though time may pass, with much done and said, i hope never does the Muse forget, the reason our latest evolution came about as it did, back in January: not out of vanity or lust or longing or absence of trust...but simply concern, that which brings out the best parts of us. i am not yet cured, but if I might be a grain of impermissible happiness permitted, hearing from you was like Tomorrow calling me in bliss, reminding me of the cost and the goal, parts of which He would hide from me for the moment whole.

this life may tear me down into my most basic pieces, cells or atoms or dust which has no description, but still my pursuit remains the same as it was in my youth: a hand that is to be held with a promise that is kept, perhaps something beautiful He may let me show you Then, iA. 

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

writing's a breeze, when a Muse is the wind, pushing or pulling, gently or urgently, no matter the weather or need, stormy or calm, your echo you'll always find in me. no rush for immediacy, time may pass as He pleases, until I can hear from you (iA) again, so then slightly easier we breathe. I've already endured silences before, so I'll endure them all for as long as He wills me to live, perhaps in our End with His permission, your touch and voice I can have for all of Eternity in living. be steady and safe, taking care of your life and your place, comfort and solace are ever to be yours, with simply a token of patience.

just one of the reasons Why

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Back when we were younger, there was a dua you mentioned making, where you "said that if it was best for us not to talk then to keep us away from each other", and for quite a while there, our Rabb saw fit to not allow us to talk much, if ever.

Back on the night of June 3rd, 2018, I made istikharah asking my Rabb to guide our communications and interaction, because I couldn't tell at which moment which avenue (to talk or not to talk) would be better for us. 

For all our lives, thus is how we have always been. The only kind of people who make these kinds of dua are the ones who realized that only their Rabb knows best when something should happen or not, even if it's something we may personally, truly want in that moment.

Perhaps my greatest thing to savor for right now is, the further proof I have of you being you. And if you're you, it's simply a matter of time iA until Eternity is ours.

 

Consequentially Forever

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

this feeling, I know it well. the pit in the stomach when one realizes that a consequence arrived of something I (most likely) did.

first, please forgive me. I can't tell if I'm the stupidest person alive for posting what I did, but probably I'm pretty close. if there's another reason I can't be a part of dreamer anymore, I wish I could know but I'll accept and understand the result regardless. 

the most unforgivable thing for me is to have violated the trust of someone I care about, even unintentionally with something intended to be humorous. the more someone means, the stronger the guilt of potentially having hurt them. if I could, I would choose death a million times over before causing you grief. Allah did not give me such a choice. the only path I have is to keep going onward, because that's the only way He might permit me what I've always sought. 

for now, in this life, and for the Next, you are always beloved to me. no matter what you say or do, even if you hate me, that truth of mine remains; perhaps one day, I'll be able to deserve yours too iA. 

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

if i'm jealous of birds and their freedom of flight, might as well be jealous too of dolphins and what they learn from echolocation, resembling another form of sight. love them so, but no cages for creatures, flying or swimming, their best they have when they're freest. though if i had both their wings and senses, i might be able to learn how the Muse fares in these epochs of silence. alhamdulillah as of late, relative calm reached at the end of a treatment's cycle, even with emotion, as the oceans consent to accept what He gave in submission rather than resistance. i hope breath comes to you ever easily, without heaviness in heart or chest, just as Red colors my blood, so never forget what you comprise: the brightened Yellow particular to mornings and their sunrise. there's a few things been written, not yet published, waiting for the moment rightest, when i think they're suited to make you smile and laugh (and yearn) to the fullest. 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Finished watching season 1 of "This is Us" and started season 2. I found it remarkable how Jack becomes the one who ends up paying for Rebecca leaving the fam to go on tour with her ex. Seriously tho?! lol producers seem to love casting her in the villain's role, and her kids kinda taking the same pov (except maybe Randall who actually heard their argument and seems to be siding with mom).

I can't say I have the experience of dealing with married life for any considerable amount of time (year or so for me), but damn, that is crazy insight into the kinds of arguments couples can have. Obviously for Muslims it's probably different on the surface, but I imagine the wife feeling underappreciated or ignored in regards to decision making is a common/major beef for wives across the spectrum.

My perspective also gets shaded by how my own parents raised us. They willingly sacrificed their own personal talents/ambitions to ensure their kids had everything they needed from birth till high school till college till married till settled. See the breadth of their efforts? It is amazing mA. I can't really imagine parents of the Western world so easily being selfless without regrets of what they gave up. I could say for certain my parents wholeheartedly accepted what they had to give up because I'd seen them with their grandchildren...assured that their jobs/roles as parents had truly succeeded in seeing their children continue the human tradition of raising new generations of people. It's really far more an Eastern world concept to value community and family over the self and personalized goals. Sometimes this sacrifice is easily worth it, and good family alhamdulillah proves this so clearly. Other times, the sacrifice seems worthless if family members or situations are shit or unresolved or ignored.

So, I can't really take a side in saying which is better, but for sure alhamdulillah I can say the core notion of giving up certain kinds of ambitions for family's sake is something I was blessed to inherit as part of my own ethos, taught by parents who exemplified it perfectly. In fairness to Rebecca, the show recounts her as always having had that kind of personal pursuit and not wanting to be tied down by family or kids. She didn't really change from who she was before marriage, and Jack knew this, so not quite a clearcut bad guy. Now if only she hadn't asked/forced him to leave the house...

[edit: turns out she goes and brings him back later too, so that's def a plus]

Musings of a Decade

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

I don't know how I did it back then. I don't know how I survived. There was a decade I went through, where our lives took different directions, and I kept subconsciously searching for someone to love like you. I never found such a person. Much of that decade was spent in a deep sadness, because I eventually realized there was only ever going to be one k. The years of college and a degree and job were never enough for me. I lose track of how many potentials I spoke with in that time, some who wanted to marry quickly after meeting me and others who talked to over months or years, and then others who wanted someone different than who I was, so many random potentials.

I recall this history now because even in an era where I can hear from you, or know more of you, there persist certain traces of insufficiency, of deprivation, that keep resonating within, especially in the silences, silence whose wisdom I totally get but the reality of apartness carries onward. If I had to describe it, I would say it has its own particular kind of torture, not in the conventional sense, but more like the darkness of a room when its light-bulb just continuously is kept distant from its electricity. Which bulb doesn't want electrons flowing through its filament? How many fixtures of location or people might it change, in vain of course, trying to capture that same intensity of glow that only one connection gave it? 

Rhetorical questions, I know. This life insists on being a barrier between you and I, though I know this is precisely what my Rabb intends. I have always hated barriers between myself and those I love. Barriers, such as distance, should perish. But in this life, He gave me no right to make it so, establishing it among my prime tests to walk a path of apartness without succumbing to what I lack in the meantime. 

I chase your hand in my Garden, without you ever having asked me to, whether or not you even would have it so. The particulars of this ambition are between Him and I, and there's nothing any mortal can do about that. Whether or not such a grand, incomparably-ascendant gift I am granted, is entirely up to my Creator. But this ultimate goal...it's always felt like what you were worth. 

Thus, one lifetime is conceded for an Eternity, iA.

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

[started from 5/7, finished 5/14]
some torches burn even in a vacuum, even while in space, even if breath away was taken, they'd still shine anyway. maybe my Gift arrives, maybe it's delayed, doesn't quite matter my wait, in the end it's my dream i chase. forward is my only direction, that only place i live in, where maybe right behind its curtain, right after His judgment, is when i can find, more than anything i expected. not every indication is apparent, not a referendum, on rightness or being lost to the wind, patience soaks up many different instances, like a babe cradled in a mother's bosom, she absorbs the screams, calming its agitation, it turns out - this is what normalcy can be like, when body isn't dying, simply alive and allowed by Him its ease in breathing.

alhamdulillah 

for each of thy moments

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

writers gotta write, even if the ink in my veins, stays shuttered from sight, so i can't tell how she fares, often dimmer the light, no blade to slice the surface, life has its own ways, to call forth that which drips, no need an invitation for pain, even as longing and absence, interchangeable as water and vapor, evaporating the meaning from depth restricted to the bone or musculature. at least i can pray her smiles last, returning often enough to bring solace like rain on days pleasantly downcast, misty, not reminders of sadness but softeners of skin, taking away need for lotion on days such as this. maybe if i could invent a link to her chest cavity and monitor in sync with mine every pulse of her organ to tell where and how the blood traveled faster, hopefully in delight rather than stresses adding weight to ventricles looking for exits, outlets necessary for relief offered eternally if just for now intermittent it seems. i hope in each and every of your silences, there's nothing missing or divergent, wish i could lay with my bare hands the stones of your road, so there's no quicksand or anything amiss when you walk for a stroll, echoes of your feet i'll always hear, imprints on memory, as evidence of places you'd lived and breathed, so in each footstep i can follow, keeping steady the path and she who dreams.

 

Invariably

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Man comes before his Rabb, just as a beggar looking to fill a cup with change, a slave who knows his place, seeks his sustenance and care, knowing there is no one else who could fill that role. For people, humankind, there's really no position we can be in that doesn't involve some need that only Allah can fulfill. This doesn't mean one cannot or does not question..that is innate to His creation and so it will happen. But it behooves one to remember that even should a question be posed to his Master, a slave does not become more than a slave. This status remains, with implications that reach either nobility (ie of His messengers called 'abd) or disgrace (ie the rebellious compelled despite their resistance into His Fire).

I am mortal, like every human before me and every human after. I have long sought to understand and see, gain insight into realities that can and cannot be seen. My tests and trials carry on, with a vigorous grip on my life I wish they did not have. But, ultimately, invariably, there is one single dua I ask of Him to fulfill for me: my Moon in my Garden. Nothin else. Grant me this ya Rabb, and I'm good, it's all I have substance in me left to seek.  Ameen

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Just started watching 'This is Us', wasn't sure if I was gonna like it but it's pretty damn good mA, not surprising as it came highly recommended from the Muse no less.

In other unrelated Saturday morning happenings, turns out I have a resident family of at least 4 foxes in our backyard! They came out to soak in the sun this AM, two of them even playing tag around the shed lol. Hope I can see them for as long as I'm around iA

 

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

alhamdulillah, beautifully cool and sunny today, just the right combination of temp and sunlight. as usual, a good bit to think about in the back of the mind, but alhamdulillah no concerns for the present moment, even as too quiet it may be in hearing from those longed for, Tomorrow reminds me refreshingly what it's worth in a fractional glimpse - still utterly amazing. in life I've often tried to see as much as I could perhaps too quickly, some scenes just cannot be rushed, especially the one our Rabb plans out. they may take their sweet time, but I have found in them a calling deeply rooted as I could have, whereby even in the wait there is gratitude. to find one's goal, one's Muse, at the end of a long and winding road, when all the tolls have been paid and travel endured, really nothing more a nomad could ask for bi ithniAllah.  

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Been awhile but back to another treatment today, feeling of crapness returns with a vengeance, reminding me how great the past few weeks were. ya Rabb

Undeletable

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

{Relatively Non-PG} 
{this piece was written on the morning I woke up and could see it right before my eyes, just waiting outside my reach, no place for it to be but recorded for Tomorrow.}

 

to be pictured, just one slice of Eternity: 

waking up to kisses, tracing down your side my fingertips, not wanting to rise just yet but then, realizing what it is i attempt, softly moans escape from once-sleepy lips, and from thighs that further touch do beg, they need no longer wonder, as soon their thirst is quenched. ~ in my dreamscape there are no things called limits, that which He lets me to imagine, simply comes in time (iA) to fruition, so when lines we remember, they belong only here in dunya, not on the bed of Forever.

~~~~~

Did I mention cookies? Always seems to be about cookies, doesn't it?

 

Of the sweetest inevitabilities

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

suffice to say that by every means or method, across and with every inch and position, there's no mortal joy that means more to me than when you've been utterly fulfilled, able to sigh and exhale (eventually) when the trials are finished and all there is, just the freedom and blessing He's given. love is a star when it's going supernova, long have i been wrapped up in its wake, waiting for my turn to show you how feeling keeps going even when the moment seems over, the energizer's Bunny a spark that stays lit forever. 

alhamdulillah that He let me find passion and vision inside a Future coming ever nearer, inviting, accepted, revived and delightfully tempting, within a Tomorrow's promise infinite and unending

Just another chapter of this life

بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

Before the peaceful (alhamdulillah) days of this past week, ever since I first went to the doc for a diagnosis back in January, there was turmoil and complete uncertainty unlike anything I'd ever faced. Here I'll try to capture what it was like in those days.

To frame the context for 01/2020, I have to mention something of the magnitude of disappointment in every one of my visits to Morocco, since I first went on 10/2018. First one asks, what had I sought? The same thing as ever: closeness and intimacy with someone I (can at least be able to) care about deeply. Through various layers of misdirection and reasons for denial (as personal as mere happenstance sometimes), my Rabb saw fit to deny me that in every moment of proximity He gave me with my Gift. Yes, there were occasions her and I approached very very closely...but the plateau of two human beings meshing and bonding was never reached. I can't recount how often it was ridiculously, tantalizingly near to me, yet escaping from me in unbelievable and unpredictable ways. 

This past January, in a moment a few days before my return to the States, it was denied to me again - this time because I wanted to understand her intent in other matters, even though she was fine with unthinking and simply taking for granted how things were up until then. It is beyond any human level of irony that the impetus for my Gift to reach out to me in the way I may have wanted...would come AFTER I had left, AFTER my diagnosis that endangered the idea she might ever see me again. Every chance we'd spent up until then in actual physical proximity, fell to some meager friendship-level of physical/emotional intimacy, while ALMOST RIGHT AFTER she realizes I might not have long left to live....brings out all the typical low-grade, 'why in the fuck hadn't you realized this before' type of emotion that had been about 98% absent prior to this.

In conjunction with my diagnosis, and resulting job and degree uncertainty with progress of education, this whole thing...threw me for all kinds of loops. Every time I would and had tried to care for my Gift, instances came to mind detailing the ways I'd been let down. Not being able to fulfill the prototypical husband-like responsibilities I'd set for myself, just added to the layers of unimaginable lack of comprehension of anything.  

If this seems like a shitstorm, it was (and still is, technically, as I'm still living through the aftereffects of everything). The truth has always been that whatever I find or don't find in life is something Allah owns, myself included. If He would choose me not to find that plateau, then I'm not gonna find it, period. I don't think what I have or can muster is quite "tawwakkul", but I would call it *submission*. That is what I boiled it down to, as I never had any support other than His, what He'd given me of family and knowledge and existence. The quality of prayers since some months back suffered, but I tried to keep up whatever physical aspect of the obligation that was possible, even as internally various notions of a rebel tried to rise up. 

At the end of every day, and at its every beginning, I am His. I've not often liked the trials as they're being lived, and takes a good bit of time to understand and accept if acceptance is ever really found. But there is one thing, my most important objective, that helps to ensure I'm always bi ithniAllah going to turn back to Him sooner or later: that finding of my dream. Without that aim and the strength of its pursuit He let me have, can't say how many times I would have given up and gone in any number of different directions. But alhamdulillah, I ultimately haven't, and have no intention of it. Regardless the ridiculous, unfathomable kind of trials we face in life, doesn't change what it is we're truly seeking. Every soul will have what it strives for - ya Rabb, make this true for me even as scattered as my effort may be, ameen.