Posts

I’ve been lying to myself.

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though I dreamed of love far too many times, it seems I am incapable of love. now that the only prerequisite is love, it is the only thing I cannot do. I simply fall into aloneness, seeking recluse in the emptiness that is me, trying to find a spark of love that could ignite an untameable fire so that I don’t have to be in control anymore, and just let the fire burn the hearts I’m near so fiercely that they think it’s me. I cannot do this. it’s too difficult to give something you’ve never learned to be given: a smile, a gaze, time, togetherness. I have failed all the chances I’m being given now. it is of no use. I’m simply unlovable. I thought I had an open heart, but there are impenetrable walls all around me, and I’ve been surrounded by them far too long to even have the will to shatter them. I am telling myself to surrender and lose control. if it is a path I cannot find, then perhaps it is not mine to find this moment. let me circumvent the life that is mine right now, no matter ho...

one's friendship.

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  I have not yet become bored of my own friendship, a solstice of one’s communion. in this freedom, it is quite estranging. i feel like someone else entirely. i am a foreigner in my own landscape and it is taking me so long to get to know who it is that lives inside of me. with all my motivations altered, inspiration is not exactly easy to find. it is not held in a sun’s rays and a passing cloud. it is beheld in intimacy and courteous conversations with one’s soul. still, I disappear and I cannot find who I’ve been. they say find your inner child. find your spark. find that melodious charm in you. but it is inexistent. it has somewhat withered away somewhere. an exile. I have for so long built a life on the ashes, and it made me so happy. those few joyful moments every now and then were everything I needed to stay alive and at peace. little moments before sleep, spending time with God and dreaming of love. I am afraid I built a life upon fantasies and a longing for little moments s...

distancing.

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there’s a wall between me and the world. a homesickness. a familiar understanding between the isness of all things and myself, but in my heart, in my home, this humanness is deeply flawed. I don’t belong here; midst intermittent laughter, commentaries and cacophonies of doing. I belong in a state where I am listening to meandering comets in their breakthroughs and grass blades in their breathing growth. I am an unparticipant in many eyes.   I find my purpose and leave. that breaks a few hearts. that allows mine to bleed much more, as I realise how deeply unsatisfying the triviality of ordinariness is. I write stories in my mind and manipulate reality so that it is infused with morality. you may call it apathy and recklessness. I call it art. I call it what I am here for.   I am most myself when I am alone, listening and writing stories in my head of what life wants to be like through me. I am the pause between brushstrokes and sentences. I am the nothingness that blends into s...

deserving.

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  opening my eyes, the more life brims with liveliness, the more I realise how much I have yet to learn. it’s been a while of beautiful, gentle and ordinary moments. still, I cannot seem to handle that ordinariness with ease.   it somehow slips through my fingers, that kind of effortless living. the mannerisms of family life, the sharing of beingness with dear souls and the constant showing up for love. I’ve known love in fantasies and sunrise stories, but showing up for it and sharing my heart is an ordeal indeed. I find myself more prone to disappearing and drawing the blinds when the monotony of everyday life becomes my reality. when love becomes the only demand, and the sharing of it the only prerequisite, I distance myself to open skies and tidal waves. I try to remember everything that flaws me. the more days pass by, the more I discover I’ve never been loved in my early years and so it is so damn hard to share a love I’ve never had planted in me. I constantly have to fi...

twenty-six.

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today, I turn twenty-six. time passed so fast and I had spent the last six months being quite unproductive, settling in newer ways of living. I haven’t even got myself to plant some seeds, and I consider today an opportunity to do so. I am heartened by another opportunity to right some wrongs and turn a new leaf. I pray to leave those years of unworthiness and fear behind, impelling myself to step into lighter ways of being in this world, stepping into powered surrender and receiving the infinite wisdom of my soul. at twenty-six, I pray for a heartful maturity, find my authentic path. this year, I intend to find an authentic path which leads me to a beloved vision I have for my future. meaning, I truly want to grow my business and learn about breakthroughs in education. there is something exciting in forging a road-less-travelled-by and at my little project titled Ecoligence, this is exactly what I am practising. yet, I cannot muster dedication and energy to build myself towards newer ...

my twenty-fifth year: a reflection.

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leaving my twenty-fifth year behind feels more like a blessing, since it had been a gateway to so many closures and in turn, many beginnings. yet, it seems that a good closure is needed, with so much unlearning to do in order to call in a new start, which is a blessing I am in deep need of. it has been extremely eventful and beautifully melancholic in that way. sometimes I cannot believe I am here, married to a wonderful, loving man here in Poland, having left many of the toxic situations that were pinning me down. this circumstance is almost one I could have conjured up in a fleeting dream, and idled upon it for some time. it feels truly liberating to be here and now. yet, with liberation comes responsibility, and that is the most formidable part. all my life, I’ve never been in the driver’s seat of my life. I was always a wave in the river of difficulties, flowing, creating as little fuss as I could. that now, is changing. I am not a wave but a current, too. I have some kind of vecto...

a softness I pray for.

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  the more I become emotionally stable, the more I realise that my only measure of healing is to feel the tension consuming my insides melt with softness and ease. there is more of this sensation now, but I still cannot fathom how to get there. the only way I can truly find it is through surrender and the fading of all my doings. the secret to healing is quite inscrutable, for it is a secret. everyone can letter out infinite ways to heal, but everyone has his/her unique path. mine is of softness. it is my innate power which I had glimpsed over and over again. I had a conversation with a friend last evening and I found myself asking, ‘ how does the healed Soraya look like? ‘. I was baffled to hear her saying, ‘ the healed Soraya will be powerful and soft. ‘ it is true. I find myself most powerful when I melt into the softness of being carried by God’s light, my doing and toil fading, unrecognised as they float along the currents of surrender and letting go. I can feel more of it now...

the horizons of my doing.

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  احبب ما شئت فإنك مفارقه.. there is so much hesitation in this heart of mine. tiny little parabolas that alternate from fear to doubt. there is so much to comprehend and ponder upon before filling the heart with a worldly commitment. there is an ongoing comparison— is it for God, or is it for the temporary self? sometimes I get too tired when I can’t make a decision. I isolate in despair, waiting for the heart to speak. sometimes my judgement is clouded from all the coping mechanisms I’ve endured and I fear, I don’t always see the truth. recently, I reflected upon how I can’t seem to rely on temporariness to be alive. I do not trust people’s love, even if they claim that it’s infinite. there’s always loss lurking in the corner— I keep my space, always. I don’t get too close to loving eternally when I know that I can’t. perhaps I’ve made this mistake. I claimed infinite, unconditional love was my path. but as long as I’m here, it is not my choice. I cannot rely on myself toiling fo...

healing clouds.

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  I looked up at clouds so celestially beautiful for the first time in months that way. that dreamy, starry-eyed way of longing for meaning and purpose and a glimpse of the foreordained. questions lap back and forth the stormy waves of my mind and I let them go in desperation. but still, they’re hauntingly blue. they look for their homes in those beautiful, otherworldly skies. then I saw the beaming light of those healing June clouds. they floated above each other in a sacred dance at sundown. I gazed lovingly, looking for myself in those heavenly mirrors. and what I saw was gratitude. how grateful I suddenly was. a serene kind of grace and forgiveness for all what is not, still. and what I needed all this time came in sight. dear God, I’m grateful for not having what I need. it occurred to me that the readiness of my soul is essential— one of the greatest misfortunes in life is to have an ocean of gifts and still hang on to the shores. to have God’s signs but not see them with one...

a stranger.

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  I wonder.. where is my mountain? where is my suffering? where is my path? somewhere in the greenness of this fields, I head outside searching for myself betwixt the birches coating themselves in emeralds. time is fleeting, running, and I have less of it now with my dawns fading into a much-needed sleep. one of my greatest fears before I came here was perhaps losing myself the more I went further away from my sufferings. now that there’s less to suffer from, my muse hangs midair. my dreams touch the ground. the reality that held me to Love dissipates slowly into things more tangible, more consuming. realities that live outside of my head and my heart. and this is me. perhaps I don’t need to heal. perhaps I always need something to suffer from so that meaning is found in eternal skies, so that even heaven is not enough. and I cannot live in a state where I find myself praying for something temporary.  I have really tasted bliss those past few weeks. an immense wave of relaxati...