1. The Intent

Asalaamu alaikum, readers

For weeks, no years, I've been putting off writing a blog mainly because I see so many more talented and organized personas out in the blogosphere. I fear I would become inconsistent, ramble on and on like a recipe page, or just not be reading material. But in the back of my mind, this is really like keeping a diary, possible pieces of a memoir. I was consistent with writing in a diary from grades 7-12, but I fell out of the routine. Most likely because my life changed and I was no longer the giant Eeyore that I seemed to be throughout my teenage years. I've looked back at my 2nd grade journal as well. I quite consistently complained about not wanting to be where I was, having trouble with change, and basically had no one but a piece of paper to talk to, even if it were for Mrs. O's homework assignment.

It's only now that I know that every place I didn't want to be helped me become who I am now. It's easier to say now that I am not being forced into a situation or torn away from a place or people that I was used to being around. All those sayings about breaking boundaries and stepping out of your comfort zone are popular for a reason. So inshaAllah I will be rambling and raging, reminiscing and advising through these blog posts. I hope to keep them short, but that wouldn't be rambling. I want to give out a positive vibe, despite my raging. I want to connect with other readers who may have had similar events in their lives (I'll ask for COMMENTS regularly). Most of all, if a few of my words could affect someone positively, I will be blessed beyond expectations.

Please do leave a comment on what you'd like to hear about! <-- I told you I'd ask for comments regularly.

2. On Love

I slowly awoke this morning to strange spring weather. I heard the sound of raindrops mixed with random snowflakes swept against the house in wisps of wind. I also found myself crying. I had just had an early morning dream of someone I had lost several years back.

Well, on dreams. They may just be influenced by what we had done the day before. What was I doing the day before? In the afternoon, someone asked me for a photo from a family album I happened to have of a deceased relative, whose son was getting married that day. That evening, I was at the masjid (second time since two years) not just seeing people in passing, but actually sitting and talking, reconnecting with people. So maybe that was why, in my dream, I was flipping through a family album. One image had her (let’s call her J) in it, the next did not.

On another level, I was at the masjid for a crash course. In it the question was asked “what is worship?” What came to mind was the goal to grow closer to Allah. Because Allah is someone we love. The more connected we are to Allah, the easier it is to connect in times of need or just to turn to for no particular reason, like a close friend. Allah knows us better than we do. If we go straight to the Creator, in whose hands our hearts lay, then we know better how to address any issues we have.

God has been compared (for our earthly minds to understand) to a mother (or multiple times that love of a mother). We’ve also known about the status of being a friend of Allah (Khalilullah). But we are all born the servants of Allah (Abdullah). From this starting point, we realize the love of a mother and, if we are lucky, we discover the friendship. In life we don’t choose our family, but we love them anyway. We do seek out friends, though, and grow to love them and, at times, depend on them more than we do our family.

Growing up, I found myself shunning away from having friends. For one, we had an unspoken policy of go-to-school-come-home. I had one friend (let’s call her Z) in fourth grade, who seemed to confide in me more than anyone else. This made me worry about her since she dropped hints of her situation at home. When she suddenly moved before the year ended, I was constantly worried about her. Of course, she was the first person I looked up when I was on Facebook…and I did find her! She was kind enough to fill me in on what she had been up to since the fourth grade.

I left the country in seventh grade. Just when I was fitting into my skin, I was removed from everything I knew (more on that trip later). The daily communication and influence from people I thought could be my friends: silenced. Endless FOMO. I had to deal with myself now.

When I came back in eighth grade, a new kid (let’s call her M) tried to make me her BFF, but I refused. I didn’t believe in it and vowed to never have a BFF. This is, of course, after my transformative year in Pakistan. Nothing against M, but I had just given up on having friends. To this day, I don’t think I can truly say I have a friend in the sense that western culture has defined it. Perhaps it is my fear of losing them. Perhaps it’s my understanding of how temporary this life is.

Studying the Seerah, one of the early lessons is to depend on Allah alone. When the Prophet (salAllahu alaihe wasalam) loses his mother and his grandfather at a young age, then his wife and uncle in adulthood, it is a reminder that Allah is the one who we can depend on no matter where we are or what the situation.

I’ve lost family members before, but growing up in America I hardly knew them. I saw my older Buhbuh for a few weeks when I was 12, but hardly knew her personality or her life story. I met my Nani when I was in Pakistan, but language and cultural barriers kept us apart. When they passed in the coming few years, it didn’t create a gut-wrenching heartache. Not as much as when another relative (let’s call her P) passed away. This was someone else I had met in Pakistan, but had actually spent time with. I knew her bubbly character and her life story. She was the first person whose leaving this earth had an effect on me. And it really made me wish I weren’t so attached to people.

J, who I dreamt of this morning, found a way into my heart without me knowing. I thought I had my guard up and had vowed never to love a human. The more I think of her, the more I realize that it was not her physical being that I loved, but her soul. She was someone I could sit and talk to and never a bad word or gossip passed between us. Growing up such a cynic, talking to her was a breath of fresh air. I could sense her patience with the world through her purposeful life. We’d have meaningful, constructive conversations. Even after she’d moved and visited us, we’d find that we were reading the same books and articles. But now, she isn’t here. Who do I look forward to meeting on this earth? Who can I send a message to about an idea or concern I have? Again, I shut myself away from people and I choose to depend on Allah only.

But this is not how Allah has intended us to live. People will come into my life who I care about. Whether they are family or friends, it is more important to know the souls we gather with. Despite how difficult it is to lose someone, the good memories are supposed to be worth it, but more than that, the hope to meet their souls again gets us through the days. Last night, when I saw the line of people standing at the masjid waiting to get food, I prayed that one day I and the people I’ve let in will be standing in a queue like this waiting for a drink from the river of Kauthar.

So many stories have an underlying theme of LOVE. It’s a concept we are taught from fairytales to classics and into the cinematic universe. But not many of these stories can tell about the love of Allah. After all, Allah created the souls that we connect with. When we want to be away from people, we can love the nature Allah created that surrounds us. If we make the right moves in this life to be closer to Allah, we can have the sight, hearing, and movement which is most loved by Allah. This way, when we are in the dark of the night without anyone or anything to look at, we can love the mind/soul Allah gave us; we can love ourselves.

To close, finally, I think I was meant to read the first 51 verses of Surah al-Araf this morning, as a reminder of where we are and where we need to go.

COMMENT: When did you last come upon a verse talking straight at you?

3. The Logo

Is it irksome to listen to an explanation of a logo? Does it take away from the imagination? Well, imma do it anyway.

I don’t remember when I first fell in love with the verse from Surah Ibrahim. The extended metaphor of words to trees stuck with me. I began exploring blogs back then to share Islamic children’s books and crafts to go along with them. I noticed parents purchased books and expected the books to teach their children how to love their religion and gain knowledge of their history. So I interceded with a few crafts to go along with the books to make them last longer. I wanted to go to book fairs and provide a full experience: storytime, craft, and sales.

I kept at it for a few years. Along the way I saw the pitfalls of this.

1) parents with requests – which is fine, but I was just selling, not writing or publishing, so what could I have done?

2) parents with strange reviews – such as the illustrated mother in the story is Muslim, so she should be wearing hijab even in her home because men will read the book and see her hair, plus I should not be selling that book

3) the amazing outpour of Muslim authors and publishers – figuring out which ones to carry and contacting many different wholesalers was timeconsuming 4) the expense of books when one doesn’t have an income of their own – I wouldn’t mind providing these books to the community, but I had no income at the time.

Mainly, I began purchasing books for my children and thought These are great! Everyone should know about them! So I purchased large shipments of books and only recently finished off my overstock of books, puzzles, and games. I’ve kept a few to give as gifts. And I’ve kept one copy of everything for my personal library, Alhamdulillah.

So, I was Good Tree Books for a while in this regard.

I followed a similar pattern with Girl Scouts (that’s for another day). This is great! Everyone should know about this! We need a Muslim scout troop!