Posts tagged love
Posts tagged love
A mother’s loving embrace has no comparison. Strong but soft. There is firmness, a solid foundation of love that no storm can shake. Yet still, there is tenderness; compassion spilling over like your tears, the scent of her skin, her glowing warmth, her deep heartbeat echoing against your eardrum. You are home again, cuddled up, and she kisses your head and she holds you tight. She held you this way when you were small and helpless, she holds you this way when you are grown and lost.
What is this all but a reflection of God?
I woke up this morning not feeling too well (partly due to the start of my period but mostly because I’m feeling low). I’ve spent the best part of this entire day wrapped up in blankets and drifting between wakefulness and very light sleep.
I had half a mug of hot milk for breakfast and couldn’t bring myself to eat anything. I just went back to bed.
My aunt - who lives across town - had come round and popped into the room at one point. We weren’t expecting visitors. I was drifting, eyes closed, huddled up close to the wall. She planted a warm kiss on my cheek and I opened my eyes to see her face floating above mine. She smiled and I smiled back. I thought it would be Mum so it was a nice surprise.
She asked how I was and I replied honestly. “Not great.”
Not too long after, Mum asked if I wanted to have lunch with the family or if I preferred lunch on my own. The thought of summoning up energy for social interaction (donning my hijab in front of my aunt’s husband, having to put up with his ‘playful’ jibes, maybe having to explain why I look so rough or why I’m so quiet today) didn’t appeal to me so I asked for lunch in bed.
Mum took pity and brought me a small tray of food. Alhamdulillah it tasted good. In fact, I’m sure it would have tasted delicious if I wasn’t feeling so crappy. There was a cup of mint tea (infused with thyme - good for cramps) and a bottle of cool water to wash everything down.
Now I’m lying in bed again. My teeth feel furry (I need to brush them), my feet feel cold, my body doesn’t feel that tired but my soul does. The motorbikes outside are muffled by the closed window. There’s one fly lazily winding its way through the air. The clock ticking is pretty loud but only if you focus on that particular sound. Mum’s on the other mattress waiting for slumber to overtake (Moroccans will let you know about the post-lunch siesta). She looks like she’s in a world of her own, too. She is starting to snuffle a little, now her eyes are closed.
I am breathing. I can see. I am waiting.
Waiting for this absence, this chasm within, to disappear or be filled or…
This is the hard part. The part where patience has to kick in. It can’t last forever. It won’t last forever but you have to see it through.
I’m yearning for completion. There is a part of ‘me’ that is aching for something more. It is an endless void that can’t be sated by any worldy thing. It is a loneliness that is all-consuming. The sun is shining and alhamdulillah I am outwardly safe. But inwardly, I am teetering.
I think it must be easy to find God in a pair of strong arms that hold you close. It must be easy when the one, through whom God manifests His Beauty, kisses you on your forehead, looks into your eyes and tells you it’ll be okay. It’s easy to see God in that security, that moment of warmth and mercy and compassion. It might not even be your significant other, it could be your mother or a sibling or a friend.
Harder perhaps to find God in absence. In pain and fear and loneliness. He isn’t any less Present but we are veiled by dualities. We’ve trained ourselves to see the ‘bad’ as beyond God, as if it’s not Him that has created every thought and feeling we possess. We ask Him to heal us of it as if it’s some external thing, a power that isn’t His. He is beyond ‘good’ and ‘bad’ but we’ve forgotten or we can’t see.
He is closer to us in our moments of weakness not because He has changed - He Is as He Was and Will always Be - but because *our* perception has changed. We have realised our desperate neediness, our feeble existence, more fully when at these low points.
As one friend put it, if you believe you are any less in need of God when you’re in your own city surrounded by your luxuries and home comforts (running water, electricity on demand, food in the fridge, warm house, phone reception and Wifi, etc) than when you’ve broken down in the middle of a desert with no water for miles and no means of calling for help, then there’s something wrong with *you*.
So yes, I am waiting. To see and understand - heck, not even understand - what’s on the other side of this lonely desert. Insha’Allah this isn’t an idle waiting.
P.S. I would have put a Read More but I don’t know if that can be done on my phone.
P.P.S. I know I’m not making much sense, contradictions and competing ideas abound.
In summary, I want to be loved and to know that I am being loved. I want to love and let it be known that I am loving.
'CRUSH' by Malek Rizkallah
So I came across this on my Twitter feed via amirsulaiman and had to share. "Isn’t this the reality of our affair anyway? #makelove #rightnow #loveoverfear #everytime #everyday #always" Enjoy.
It got removed today (28th) :( :( :( such a shame - it was a beautiful short.
In this funny, poignant talk, Brené Brown explains what makes us feel a sense of love and belonging. It’s a powerful reminder (especially for all you Type A’s out there) to embrace the messy and unknown, even when that leap of faith seems scary or uncertain.
Beautiful words from Brené Brown’s TEDxHouston talk to inspire you this week.
It’s a list.
she is a wide floating meadow
with more green than gravity
and more beauty than my eyes can hold
my eyes swollen trying to drink her in
but they cannot bear it
like heavy rain laden clouds
if I don’t weep I fear they would explode
headless but heartfelt
heart too smart for it’s…
Love can make the sane walk out of suburban doors
and wake up on psychiatric wards
Having forgotten their own names and from where they came.
Love can make the mildest amongst us
Lay awake at night plotting the demise
Of the one who took her love away
Leaving a raging hole where her heart…
"Love is the way Coltrane kissed his saxophone
In that moment you would think they were all alone
No band, no audience, no stage, no microphone
Just the ‘Player’ and the ‘Played’ in a dreamy haze
And then he awakes and realises everyone was watching them make love.”
Love love LOVE this!!!
Depersonalizing love for the Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings be upon him, is a common trick these days. People are encouraged to say “love of the Sunnah,” either by being told that or it being a common practice. But beware! Love of the Sunnah does not necessarily include love of the Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings upon him. But, love of the Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, does include love of his Sunnah.
The Prophet, peace and blessings be upon him, did not say “None of you truly believes until my sunnah is more beloved to him than his father, his child and all of mankind.”
He said, “None of you truly believes until *I* am more beloved to him than his father, his child and all of mankind.”
via Brother Talut Dawood (emphasis added)
A subtle but important point.
“INTERVIEWER You are one of the most widely translated poets—into about thirty languages. Into what languages are you best translated?NERUDA: I would say into Italian, because of the similarity between the two languages. English and French, which are the two…
I think this is quite true. Arabic for example can be extremely intense in speech and expression, but all that intensity, if overused, can seem quite hollow and empty. I think context plays a huge role. You can’t go around calling every girl you meet rou7i and the like.
I laughed at your description of I love you in darija. I feel like we speak the ‘hood/ghetto’ version of Arabic. It is all so laid back, kind of lazy, and blunt.
Aiwa safi, kan bgheek. Wakha?
Lol. I think I also read somewhere that, in general, the Japanese hardly ever say “I love you” [aish(i)teru wa or dai s(u)ki desu] even when in a long-term relationship as it is considered too intense that words simply don’t do it justice? I.e. You’re just being shallow if it’s said aloud.
[Anyone Japanese/knowledgeable of Japanese culture, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong.]
Actions speak louder so one is expected to show love rather than say it (pretty sweet but I think a lil too extreme for my tastes :D).
Of course, the flip side for Darija is that it’s the perfect medium to cuss someone out with. Heck, just threatening in Darija is enough.
Wakha 3lik. Daban, tfahim m3ak mizyaaaaaaaan, 7tan raj3ou dar.
The Sun never says to the Earth, “You owe me.”
Rabi’ al-awwal Day 17 | “Love at the Battle of Badr…”
The Prophet ﷺ drew up his army, and he passed in front of each man to give them good heart and to straighten the ranks, carrying an arrow in his hand. “Stand in line, O Sawād,” he ﷺ said to one of the Helpers who was a little too far forward, and gave him a slight prick in the belly with his arrow.
“O Messenger of God, you have hurt me,” said Sawād, “and God has sent you with truth and justice, so give me my due.”
“Take it,” said the Prophet ﷺ, laying bare his own belly ﷺ and handing him the arrow at which point Sawād stooped and imprinted a kiss instead of jabbing with the shaft.
“What made you do this?” asked the Prophet ﷺ.
Sawād answered: “O Messenger of God, we are now faced with what you see, and I desired that at my last moment with you-if so it be-my skin should touch your skin,”
And the Prophet ﷺ prayed for him and blessed him.
Source: Lings, Martin. Muhammad: His Life Based on the Earliest Sources.
Image by Peter Gould
Originally posted on 04/08/2012
لا إله إلا الله محمد رسول الله في كل لمحة ونفس عدد ما وسعه علم الله