I just finished a long appraisal discussion with some psychologists, reflecting on the year, and I am feeling pensive. This is a good time as any to post the requisite annual end-year reflection post, whilst I am in the mood.

I am feeling somewhat slightly more balanced than the morning, when I woke up. I've been mulling, in and out of emotional troughs, that maybe, I've been looking at the question all wrong. I feel like an internal perspective shift is happening, but happening at a creakily slow pace, with the accompanying resistance and squeaks. That's how I feel this end of the year. I also feel the adage is true: life does not necessarily get easier, but that you get better at it the longer you do it. And that makes life better (if I make sense).

I just feel like posting a random cute picture here.

So, in summary, I still feel confused and pained and excited and disappointed and curious and sad and hopeful and afraid... but processing everything in a disarmingly calm manner. I wonder if I am in danger of only observing the world and making commentary of it.

Happy 2023, and may the answers come to me in miraculous ways, insyAllah.

 I disrupt my admin work to post this beautiful thing here. 

It's been a while since I've posted something BTS.

This is why I've always loved Namjoon and why BTS is as awesome as they are; 

the way he just brings poetry across...

and always talking about being real, and authentic, and wanting to get to the depths of things.

💜

Kamikochi means 'where Gods descend'

Checking in to share that Kamikochi was awesome, and I'll likely want to keep revisiting this place sporadically throughout my life. Of course, we visited some other places in Japan (two new spots for me! i.e. Nara and Kawagoe) but a crazy amount of photos were collected around the River Azusa alone, haha.

It was freezing cold, though frost from overnight was melting.

We trekked from Kappabashi to Myojin Pond (and back around), whilst gushing on the beauty of everything the whole time.

We basically stayed one whole day in Kamikochi...

And ended the evening with piping hot udon (tenpura and fish broth!) 

at Yoshimoto, Hirayu Onsen (en route on our bus journey back).

The perfect dinner to wrap up a gorgeous day.

6PM is basically pitch black in the Hida mountains in November, and we huddled back to our ryokan, Kazeya, from our 'Totoro' bus stop in the dark.

At this rate, I'd offer anyone company to visit Japan. Mata ne!

I wanted to post before October ended. It looks like a monthly frequency may be what I can keep up with these days.

Recently, there was this:

which made me all kinds of happy. Long walks have been a little part of my life now, and this just gave me extra validation. Also, Datin S and I are aiming for a nice little trek around Kamikochi in a week's time, and I am psychedddd. I hope the weather holds up and is beautiful, to match what should be the beautiful landscape I remember. 

that's why I shine like this

This book has been such a wonderful balm. Absolutely adore it, and it's legitimately made me appreciate red bean. I actually looked up how to make red bean, and I found a couple of dorayaki options to try out from Chateraise. There was one with cream cheese and adzuki (totally bull-dozing through my dairy restrictions) that was soooo delicious.

I don't want to disappoint you, but Toku herself said at the time that she couldn't actually hear the voice of beans. But if you live in the belief that they can be heard, then someday you might be able to hear them. She said that was the only way for us to live, to be like the poets. That's what she said. If all you ever see is reality, you just want to die. The only way to get over barriers, she said, is to live in the spirit of already being over them.

💜

I cried ridiculously at several points. And some parts really stunned me, because it emphasised again this whole... witnessing thing, that is life. When I was small, I used to wonder what the big deal was about witnessing -- because our syahadah, the declaration of belief in Islam, translates literally to, "I bear witness that there is no God but God and Muhammad is the messenger of God." Like why does it have to be a testimony, you know? The first time I got struck by a thought on this, was when we were learning about electrons (haha) in a basic physics module at university, and realising that electrons decided to present as a particle or wave depending on the observer, which is a mind boggling concept by itself. But I was like, wait, one of the most basic units of matter requires a witness and observer to come into practical existence? What. My tiny brain could not make the full connection between things, but just contemplating the possibility of it blew my mind sufficiently.

This story about Sweet Bean Paste, while fully from a secular philosophical perspective, demonstrated how the essence of life is in witnessing the present moment, and that in itself is sufficient. Life does not require some sort of length and successful trajectory to have meaning. It does not need to be lauded or even to be necessarily loved by others. It just needs to be, and to witness.

I began to understand that 

we were born in order to see and listen to the world. 

And that's all this world wants of us. 

It doesn't matter that I was never a teacher 

or a member of the workforce, 

my life had meaning.

I despised men who accepted their fate. I shaped mine twenty times and had it broken twenty times in my hands. 

~ Lymond, Game of Kings 

deep, and deeper than the ocean

It's been a while, and after a number of failed drafts, I decided not to have another one.

Does maturity equate to fewer words? Perhaps. I feel like when I have thoughts, everything gets weighted more, towards every angle, so eventually... what is worth sharing and actually expressing becomes... more narrow and concise. Or maybe, there just isn't a point to rambling about the mundane anymore, when you've lived out more years of your life.

I had recently purchased boxes of conversation starters, for fun, and also because we started self-care days for my therapy team at work and we could use them for our team-bonding segments (which went awesomely, I have to say). Anyway, I figure they can also serve as topic starters for my blog posts, especially for the times exhaustion hinders inspiration (such as now). There's a Muslim Reflection Deck, that I'll just randomly pick from:

Prompt 142: What has been your greatest test so far and did it draw you closer or further away from Allah?

My first response to this was: NO. Haha, that's far too private for me to share to the open internet, not to mention that I have all sorts of negative feelings of... guilt and sadness around whether I have become a better person or worse off than before. This question presumes too much; I don't think I have much of a capacity to even tell when I am being tested. Sometimes we are tested with good too, and we don't know, right? Or we're heedless.

Next!

Prompt 12: What key things stop you from becoming closer to others around you?

Despite the years of consuming Brene Brown content, I find it hard to be vulnerable, although I suppose... we all do at some level. And I am very hesitant to ask or impose on others, fearing that I would overstep their boundaries. Which is why I am always fascinated by some of my more extroverted friends who often do not think twice to ask or pry or find things out about other people. I have often reflected that this was likely born out of being the eldest girl of my siblings; of being asked to fend for my self and not need adult help (or any help); not to make trouble or create trouble or add to trouble. To be good... was to be self-sufficient. That was probably one of my biggest subconscious lessons from my childhood. And something I have to continuously unlearn and rewire.

On a less heavy note, I am probably too geeky about things to connect readily with others. I don't get too excited about 'normal' things, and fangirl excessively about niche topics. And because I perceive this otherness of myself, it just adds another barrier between me and the world. In worse times, I have often felt alien but thank goodness, managed to commiserate in my alien-ness with at least E, who I feel has similar levels of caution around boundaries. E and I get along splendidly because we both have, I suppose... an understanding of that necessary self-reliance and independence, as well as the ensuing quiet consideration for the personal space that entails. I remember when were in that insanely tiny hostel on Cockburn Street in Edinburgh years ago, and I marveled a little at how we just knew how to give each other space, almost intuitively, without speaking. And perhaps because we each felt our spaces were respected in this friendship, we then allowed each other in more readily...?

So maybe, I don't know, it's about getting to a place where you understand each other's spaces, eh? Getting along with people is understanding what their personal spaces entail and maybe how to respect it, but for me, to know when to knock on others' doors less hesitantly, and open mine too.

Feeling like I've been failing today (work-wise), and annoyed that I am in a management role, which strangely enough, has been something throughout my entire adult working life before this, I have said I'm not suited for nor aimed for (always claiming I like the actual clinical work, and I like research and knowledge-based pursuits), and yet here I am. And even stranger to me, I don't actually hate it that much, nor feel I am badly suited to it. Which leaves me in an unprecedented, weird, limbo-like space. Afloat, annoyed, torn in different directions.

I have learnt, and continue to learn, to give myself space. That part of making it work, is not having it perfect. There will always be good days, bad days, and everything in between. Days when I let myself down, days to push myself, days to curse, and days to celebrate. I kind of had this corroborated whilst reading "What My Bones Know", by Stephanie Foo; a book about healing trauma and just... learning to live life.

"A healthy heart doesn't pump at the same rate all the time. That would actually be a really unhealthy heart. The healthiest hearts are adaptable, and the quicker they adapt, the better. When you start running, your heart should ideally speed up quickly. It's the same for your emotions. When something really tragic happens, it would be weird if you were still happy, right? Or if you just sat there with no reaction. When something tragic happens, you should be there with that pain, feeling that sadness. When something unjust happens, you should feel how aggravating it is. And then, after you've sat with those feeling for the appropriate amount of time - and it could be an hour, or a day, or months, depending on the severity of what happened - then, you can go back to a state of rest. Or joy. Or whatever. Being healed isn't about feeling nothing. Being healed is about feeling the appropriate emotions at the appropriate times and still being able to come back to yourself. That's just life."

With Him are the keys of the Unseen;

    none knows them but He.

He knows what is in land and sea;

not a leaf falls, but He knows it.

Not a grain in the earth's shadows,

not a thing, fresh or withered,

but it is in a Book Manifest.

                                    ~ 6:59, The Koran

💙

Just a reminder for my self.

I've been trying to do more and to believe more, without always needing to understand.

Selamat Hari Raya!

 I feel like I finally have a breather or something. In a really good way. I had taken long leave (in other words, more than a few days in a row), stretching from my birthday and ending a week after the first day of raya. And with the lifting of restrictions, it's a little bit of a revenge enjoyment, I think. So it's been... quite a period of high adrenaline, and I just couldn't get into the mood to pen anything down. 

I have some photos ready for a dump here. (with a clear bias for my nieces and nephew)

One of the birthday cakes I had! (and after too much of celebrations and cake, I've been told to stay off gluten for my anti-inflammatory needs. It's been a struggle, with kuih raya literally laid out in front of me on a daily basis.)

this little cutie pie is always moving too fast to be captured in a decent pose.

this is one of the best things I got on my birthday, hehe. I do love my chilli.

on raya morning, after braving the crowd at the mosque (happy crowd!), we went to get ice and there were only these two packs left. my dad almost tipped over into the box trying to extricate them from the bottom of the icebox. but we couldn't and left without ice, haha.

this photo is a bit out of chronological order -- this was from early in Ramadhan when some of us did charity house cleaning and I legit painted on walls for the first time in my life, hahah. exhausting but fun (and rewarding and eye-opening).

this was from the one and only outdoor iftar, that was initially meant to be a bookclub one, but became a one-on-one sharing. enjoyable nonetheless.

official graduation ceremony from Arabic class! my Arabic is passable; I can use it to save my life, but no, don't expect me to speak to you. When occasional middle easterners look at me and my name and ask, "Takkalam arabi?", I say, "LAA. Ingliziyy, min fadlik." ahah.

---

On an entirely separate note, I'm quite ecstatic that Shaykh Hamza is currently discussing Sense and Sensibility at his book club. I suddenly find myself absolutely in adoration of Elinor Dashwood. Love love love her. I had vaguely watched the movie and read parts of the book in my much younger days, but this time round, as a full-blown mature adult, I finally do get this story, and love her so much. And when played by Emma Thompson (with her own written script!), even better.

this is one of my two favourite scenes from the movie; the depiction of Elinor as all honour and duty and goodness and rightness, and people thinking she must be without heart. Shut up all you idiots, I say.

Shaykh Hamza said that if Marianne were from our time, she would certainly have purple hair, a nose ring, and tattoos all over her body, hahaha. I've also just learnt that there is a newer 2008 movie adaptation, with Dan Stevens as Edward Ferrers (yessssss, hehe), although I absolutely love Hugh Grant's hilarious but perfect awkwardness as Edward.

 Kindness is a mark of faith, and whoever is not kind has no faith. ~ Rasulullah s.a.w.

On not-so-good days, sometimes simple basic truths like this, are very comforting.

Happy Ramadhan!

I've been feeling a peaceful melancholy lately, brought on partly by discovering that this kind of aesthetic (totally up my alley) exists on youtube:

And also rediscovering Corrine Bailey Rae's amazing song,

that just gets me in a mood:

Girl, put your records on

Tell me your favourite song

You go ahead let your hair down

Sapphire and faded jeans

I hope you get your dreams

Just go ahead let your hair down

You're gonna find yourself somewhere, somehow...

Personal goals: 

- create quiet moments that are mindful and beautiful, on a fairly regular basis. be happy with my protagonist self. believe in my happy ending! though insyallah, my life is a long story yet.

- read some Quraan this Ramadhan and re-commit some to memory for ad-hoc situations I find myself having to read out loud. (like leading a prayer of ladies at home) I used to be good at this as a child.

 Awaiting the release of the finale season for The Last Kingdom! 

To say I love this show is an understatement. I feel simultaneously excited and sad that it is ending.

I've said it many times, and I shall say it again: I absolutely love hero stories. And Uhtred is almost ridiculously awesome.

Also, love Uhtred's band of men! Finan is especially hilarious.

Uhtred tells his despondent men after yet again choosing the harder, more honourable path: I know you think we have given up untold wealth and status... But we have something greater than that.

Finan: Pleeeease do not say our friendship.

HAHAHA, I almost died. XD

(Up at an ungodly hour in front of the tv and in front of the computer, eeeesh, S.)

Is there a means more successful  or a deed more beneficial, than salawat upon whom Allah and all His angels salawat, and whom Allah has specified as a great means of seeking closeness to Him in Dunia and Akhirah? For salawat upon him (salallahu alaihi wassalam) is the greatest light, a trade that will not be unprofitable, and a practice of the Saints in the evening and morning. Hence, be diligent in salawat upon your Prophet (salallahu alaihi wassalam), through which you shall be purified of your temptations, it shall purify your deeds, you shall attain your highest hopes, the light of your heart shall shine, you shall attain your Lord's contentment and you shall be safe from the terrors of the day of fear and dread.

~ Al-Qaul Al-Badi', Al-Hafizh As-Sakhawi

The other day, Datin S and I were happily gushing over some delicious chocolate at Awfully Chocolate. We were fresh from a hot, sweaty walk along the Rail Corridor. I then proceeded to expound on my possible greater love for gummy candies. At which point, Datin S exclaimed amusedly not for the first time, my apparent... freedom? She seemed to think that I had an inner freedom that supposedly... allowed me to love gummy candies, haha! but more importantly... to be whoever I wanted, however I wanted. 

Her comment gave me some pause for thought. I think I have always known my personal particularities. I hesitate to say, don't we all? Because I am learning... that perhaps not everyone knows themselves as well as I expect them to. I have always known, for instance, that I love gummy candy; in fact, you don't have to go too far back on this blog for a post about my dreaming of a life-sized gummy bear in heaven, hehe. I also have many other clear favourites, don't I -- the stuff that I fangirl from whence I was small. A very clear, I like this, and zeroing straight in on it. I have a very clear memory of discovering the love of reading: I must have been six or seven years old, and I had discovered Enid Blyton's Wishing Chair series. I remember thinking how amazing it was that I could go to these limitless places in my imagination, just through the simple task of reading words. In retrospect, I feel grateful to have had such a loud internal voice from the get-go. I may not have been outspoken from very young, but I was always very loud and clear in my own head.

At some point, I think this loud and clear voice became the very reason I struggled emotionally for so very long through my younger years. There was a very obvious tension between my internal experience and the external world, that I had no choice but to attend to it earlier on, and face my self. This blog certainly bears witness. Perhaps, having had to butthead so openly my strong internal motivations has led me to synthesize a new space for coexistence. It's like that sacred paradox Carl Jung talks about, and that I read in Robert Johnson's Owning Your Own Shadow:

When the unstoppable bullet hits the impenetrable wall, we find the religious experience.

Basically, I somehow got to a place where I allowed my internal voice to live (I suppose it was so strong to begin with, there was no suppressing it for long, thank goodness); and I no longer punished it for being different from the world. For not fitting in with the accepted ego or persona. I honestly struggle to put this process into words, because the abstractness of it all still trips me up as well.

Anyway, this is perhaps what Datin S alluded to about inner freedom? She is right if she means that I have come to a space where I do not judge myself; I just am, most of the time. I just try and be. I love gummy bears! why not. I am a million other things, I am not a million other things as well, and it's all fine, Alhamdulillah. It is good and peaceful and happy.

It's not that I do not have dreams or desires; quite the contrary! I still have very deep, strong emotions that have not waned, and the voice loudly shouting at times about where I should go, as I am used to. But there's a big, wide space where everything is allowed to run its course, and settle down at a healthy middle. From some corner, I am also kindly looking down at all of this happening, while we figure it out together. With this level of busyness internally, who has time for the external? I basically don't. Besides, why should it matter to the external world that I love gummy bears, say. In recent times, the starkest difference in manifestation of all this internal change has been a drastic reduction in wanting to prove myself to anyone, or even correct any misinterpretation. There was a time when people's seemingly incorrect perceptions of me used to rub against me like sandpaper; but now, I have very surreal moments of... utterly not caring. Like a calm indifference to anyone's thoughts and feelings of me; it is a startling experience. But a good one, I suppose.

Having taken on more at work, and feeling a little like a many-limbed octopus trying to attend to multiple peoples and projects at once, this bit about Rasulullah s.a.w., from our spiritual reading club stunned me:

The Prophet's life was full of activity, but was never tense or confused. Numerous as the claims on his time were and vying for attention, he was always calm and relaxed. Little or non-existent tension was in his life. He was never at a loss. When you saw him attending to something, you would think that he had nothing to do before it and nothing to do after it. The way he was at home gave no hint that heavy burdens awaited him outside. If you saw him with his companions you had no indication that he was anxious about anything else awaiting his attention. He attended to them fully and was relaxed as he talked to them. His refined manners were felt by them all. It was like he had no business other than meeting his companions and attending to their needs. His was a situation of perfect equilibrium that approached all tasks with ease and comfort.

~ A Day In The Life of The Prophet Muhammad s.a.w., by Abdul Wahab Bin Nasir

I shall aspire towards this level of calmness and serenity, always. Not to mention his cheerfulness with every person he meets in his life. 💜

happy 2022!

This analogy keeps popping up in my head in recent times, that seems to fit my current internal state: those musicians who kept on playing as the Titanic sank. I feel a strange almost incongruous zen-ness, whilst my brain objectively assesses the apparent present dangers.

Wonderful, I suppose. One grows unknowingly in the undercurrent of life. Time for old panic patterns to fall away.

Insyallah, the year will grow more amazing and happily surprising as the days roll on. As it is, a metaphorical work-related bomb has detonated, and I find myself being girl boss. (Well, we're all mostly girls/ladies anyway, heheh.) Receiving love and support from varied quarters reassures me that... this is the right move, this is the right time. I am probably the right person.

Insyallah, Amin.