a daylight dream

I feel a little inspired to get back to deep reflections. It’s the artistry of my life, after all— the act of engaging intentions and weaving narratives into the glory of how a single shift may change reality forever. my intention in April was to notice the grace in surrendering to the rivers of God’s wisdom, love and abundance. perhaps it was an intention forgotten most days since I have grown away from the habit of reflecting on my intentions, but now that I’m here, I find that it has truly been so. it’s a miracle that never fails me. April started truly beautifully in some ways. it started with an inspiration to make changes in my life, especially with my work life after being daunted by the torpidity of not being able to do what I love freely. you know that I usually feel bored especially when I feel like there is an obstacle from within me that is creating a lack of flow. unhealthily, I am always tempted to run away and start something new. I’m grateful I allowed myself a new ex...

جفاف الدنيا في ذكري الحياة يحرق عبرات الندي قبل تدليها.. جفاف عريق، يتسلل عروق الأمل حتي تندب ألوان آفاق النهار. و تتحول  الأراضي إلي تلال الشقاء.. تلال تمسك ثقيل و إن تخليت الأمل عن كل خريطة تبعدني إلي السماء .و هل تري نظرة عيناي في عين عجزي؟ نظرة تكسر الأسباب.. نظرة تخلي عن وهم الطرق التي ظننت أنها تدل إلي ديار المحبة .لا ديار إلا هنا.. في نظرة.. في وهم  .تنكسر التلال معي و أنا هائمة في سعي يلتهم كل دعوة بداخلي.. سعي يلتهم جرأة قلبي حتي قسوة تحن إلي حقيقتي .نداء.. نداء بعيد.. همسة أنهارك في قلبي يا حبيبي .أنهار الإيمان.. أنهار الخيال.. أنهار تنبعث بين الشقوق محراب مغفرتك يزداد نوراً كلما اقترب نداءك.. محراب رحمتك.. محراب محبتك.. ففي قلبي تجتمع كل النظرات و ألقاك في صلاة للحي.. للهادي.. للنور. ألقاك في نهر التسليم لآفاق الله.. تمتد عبر زمن أقدار وهبت لنا لأراك يا حبيبي زهرة ابتسامتي لامعة في عينيك و لا تبالي.. لمعة أودية الحب منفجرة في قلب قد جف و نبض و تبدل بحياة لا تفني و أنت في وجداني  .فإن أحببتك فهو الله في حبي.. محبته في نظرة بيننا. فحبي وديان دعاء طال بعدما انكسر ...

I feel the tangled harshness liberate itself in every corner of my body, the gaze of my heart flooding the vast landscapes of creation. through this gaze, I become intimate with sunbeams— isn’t light but a gaze, too? a consciousness that sears through the shadows, manifesting them to the truest form they have always embodied deep within. and dearest God, with this gaze a simple realisation floods me with You. the enormity of it awakens my perception. the deepest hurt of incapability and disempowerment— that I do not even know how to love myself. on my own, I do not know how to soften this tension of failing to be kind to myself. to love and honour and empower myself with the responsibility of being here, of doing it right in this worldliness, to meet You with all of me, instead of but a fragment of the seeds you’ve sowed in my soul. I do not know how to love myself enough to do this, dear God. that’s the truth of it. that’s the truth of my deepest hurt, running through the hoarse dryne...

why is it that I need to be connected to my pain to remember how to live? why is it that in moments of ignorance, the first thing I search for is that whirlpool of sadness that runs deep into my chest? why is it that my only driver is the remembrance of what sprouts in separation from the beauty of magic and universal Love? pain is my biggest driver. I remember it far too often. I remember it when there’s a new mountain to climb to carry the spark of an intention that longs to recreate the past. I remember it to know what grows from the limitedness of our love and our strife. I’m a big believer in magic and miracles, and my pain is what I owe infinite gratitude to. the parched land of brokenness and shameful fear has suddenly become a garden of nurtured dreams. how? I don’t know.. and that’s the miracle. it’s the infinitude of God’s love. while walking today, I found myself remembering its sweetness. something in my heart stirred so profoundly and I couldn’t help but look up into the s...

where does most beauty come from? it is the emptiness of my life. the spaces that have been void of substance and divinity, courtesy towards the elements that coincide in a way to co-create the blessing of Life.  it is not the emptiness itself, but the way of being that evolves to be of worship and service to it. I’ve been reading and listening into the future of this world and how soon enough, one day, this world that was historically constructed will fall out of context. we shall be left with an emptiness so profound, except for the practices that have always been relational, invested in the divinity of liveliness, animated in its time-bound, placed context, energetically profound in meaning that is inherent and transferable through the heart. I can relate to that a lot.  it’s the scarred experiences of my life that have blessed the artistry of committing to recreating them in a way that fills one with aliveness, rather than drains it with a dark void. I witnessed a glimpse ...

  Another Ramadan has passed, and it was a smooth one. Ramadan comes and goes each year budding so much anxiety, reminding me of the difficulties my home bears. Midst all the broken memories, this Ramadan proved the ultimate mercy of God and I am grateful that I had chosen to have faith in Him.. I want to reflect, maybe a little poignantly. I’d love to look back over the years and see that my life can change and that one day, all these communal, festive, spiritual days can be lived with grace and a heartfelt kind of gratitude and love. I’m here to acknowledge the pain so that when I return to this space in the future, I never have doubt in believing in God’s abundant gifts of faith. Ramadan this year taught me the gift of acceptance. Before the month started, I revisited all my fears and let them out openly. I wrote them down, one by one, acknowledged them with fear and fearlessness alike. I also accepted the fact that Ramadan may be hard at home. I accepted the mishaps and tribula...

I   didn’t have it in mind to recollect the mistakes I’ve made this academic year and last two terms. I am mostly fixated on success and transformation. However, it’s a little different this year since it’s been a year filled with complexities that I was not adept to comprehend all alone. This academic year was perhaps monumental in terms of the imperfections, mistakes and failures I’ve encountered.   It’s been bugging me to feel them at the back of my mind, and they are begging to be unloaded in a safe, healthy space. Here I am, intending to forgive my wrongdoings and unconscious intentions that have been running my world as a teacher this year. This year has been one filled with so much innovation in my teaching style, but it was also filled with experiences that were unclear, and muddy; they have led to outcomes that are perplexing, further mitigating the situation, and I did not have time and energy to act from the deepest cell of my heart all the time. I want to forgive t...

  the silence between us orbits us around all the transient journeys and all the defined paths we fixate on. the silence between us spreads us in space in the illusion that we are in control of who we are— till the silence turns to be an unbearably loud  noise .  the choice, dearest. all this time, I knew that navigating my life is just one big cacophony of noise. when all the spellbinding events arise, all I’m longing for is the mirror of your eyes. who else knows it’s but Him.. who else knows the truth of it but your heart. you understand it now, dearest? the pain of the distance between our timeless gazes. when we think we are in control of it, our hearts in deep sleep. the effort and brokenness it takes to unload the weight of our doing. eased in graceful softness with just one step into the garden of love: the silent sky of your eyes, the soulful closeness of your presence. this time, I feel less in control of it. I deeply know that no amount of preparation equates a...

today was beautiful— that kind of day which makes you melt in the light of people that have the courage to heal. this is something I recognise in people so instantly— this palpable light that emanates from their hearts, this authentic vulnerability and wholeness in knowing brokenness, imperfection and pain. I was truly lucky to meet Rana, an educator I have stumbled upon— passionate, eager and relentless in learning limitlessly. also, humbly empowering, big-hearted and deeply honouring her pain and struggles which makes her so real.. so true. I felt my smallness standing by her side. if there is something not many people recognise about me, I am deeply shy sometimes, especially in situations where I am asked to speak my truth. before her, I felt the smallness in just allowing her to be, to express and hold space for wholeness. it was a sacred moment, an honest prayer of an open heart. my shyness, though often nerve-wracking for me, is often a gift. I find that a leadership role does no...

  I wonder where this limp fragility comes from— an inexorable need, the brokenness of my doing and breaking down before my helplessness. I closed my eyes while in the bus today, and my heart reminded me of all the obstacles in my life, even though I’m not sure why. my overprotective father, having less freedom than most people, my burning longing to feel safe in being myself and a broken family situation which keeps inking my world in undesirable splats every once in a while. I was reminded by my unstable relationship with my own body and existence; a rollercoaster between the highs of transcendence and the lows of being shackled and limited midst all those restraints.. I didn’t want to remember. I try to focus on what’s beautiful most of the time. I cannot deny that in my weakness I often feel like I can never move on with my life tied to lessons from the past I haven’t learned so thoroughly yet. I keep blaming myself for it all. It’s all inside me. It’s a mirror of my fears. a m...

in being honest, I falter at how far sugarcoating could go. sometimes, in effort to let things go, I find myself coating the pain with the sweetness of it being a gift when still, it is painful. when still, it is meant to be seen as hurt. when it still hasn’t been transcended. I’ve agreed not to run away from my problems. I don’t want to be the person who would run away and leave it all behind seeking a new life. sometimes I think I just want to stay here, see it through in forgiveness and kindness— but I often feel like more time spent in this cage is weakening my wings.. in being honest I realise that as far as healing could go, we cannot heal anyone. we cannot really change people. we cannot really expect other people to transform their hearts in accordance to our will. it doesn’t work like that, but my relentlessness tricks me into believing it is possible. no matter how hard I try, I won’t be able to fix his past. I won’t be able to paint his heart anew. I can’t waste mine on this...

I know that it is at the brink of aliveness that one truly experiences death. It is quite paradoxical and truly elusive to comprehend. For this truth can be experienced both ways, in all ways, the whole spectrum of bitterness and sweetness.. I’ve been rather concerned with issues of our world lately, leaving contemplation behind, leaving You in the background of my heart— my remembrance of You subtle, weak, unrecognisable. there was barely time to consider surrender being in the limelight of all doing. Dear God, sometimes I get so terribly alienated by remembering myself. I get so painfully tempted by boredom of having to consider my life. In the midst of efforts to feel wholeness, through so much introspection, I get tired of remembering myself more than You— the vastness of it, the undying truth that midst all of my effort, there is Your unceasing power that undoes everything I do, leaving me in broken humility and less and less control.. Sometimes all I want to remember that I’m tru...

  you’re right. a love like this is grander than anything we can touch into being, felt for its truth in its close proximity, but never too close for it to exist independently. it seems to melt into all that is, melting our boundaries along with it. it’s grander than life. everything touched by divine love is.. and I always longed to be touched by it, and infuse my life with its otherworldly paths lived from within. and I spent all my years climbing just to bring this celestial light to the grounds that carry our home. just to watch it seed, grow, thrive and eventually.. die. how can something eternally divine find itself so softly streaming in our worldly seasons? but while it grows, while it is seen, its ephemeral light blinds the darkness away.. a glimpse of the infinite in one timeless moment, sheerly made for a heart-shattering brokenness and all-encompassing humbleness. and dearest one, this togetherness is a garden of divine love. and what am I here to do but climb higher st...