The Art of Giving

I am of the few looking forward to Christmas. Not because, to many Christian brothers and sisters, it is a time to remember the birth of Jesus the Christ--our Prophet Isa-- or for many Pagan brothers and sisters it is a time of celebration of the solstice, nor for the Holy celebration of Chanukah for Jewish brothers and sisters. I respect all faith traditions, but the reason I look forward to this season is what most people abhor of the holy days: its heavy reliance on family time and gift giving.

I realize that for many, it is a sad time where they are reminded of what they lack: money or family connection or loved ones now passed away. Many have also made the valid and true point that one should not wait for the holidays to be grateful for that which we *do* have. However, I find that the human mind too often forgets its blessings, so while I am not Christian, Jewish or of any Pagan traditions, and the holidays mean nothing to me religiously, it is still a beautiful time of sharing, giving and being grateful.

I'm blessed to be financially able to give gifts to those I love; however, I found that over the years, I've come to understand the "art of giving", because anyone can give someone 10$ or a coffee shop gift card, but it takes a pure soul to give it to someone who did not expect to receive a gift, who may not have thought they deserved a gift even!

Of course, gift cards and cash may not be financially viable options, still, to this day, nothing has warmed my mother's heart more than a homemade gift and that rings true of most parents but also of many friends and acquaintances. The true art of giving is in knowing what to give: it could be as easy as knitting a headband for the hijabi who's been struggling to put a tuque up top her hijab (HOLLA sisters of the Great White North!), Sharpie-ing a personal message on a white mug for a fellow coffee drinker or making a painting for someone. Yes, some of those homemade gifts require some skills but some honestly only require some creativity!

The truth about gift-giving is that the gift hardly ever matters, what truly matters is the intention.

For those who may not be fortunate enough to have those to share with or who may not be willing to partake in a celebration materialistic belongings, the art of giving is not solely material: your time is by far the most valuable thing you can give, whether by spending time with loved ones who may not receive of your presence so often, by volunteering with those less fortunate or by taking someone's shift so that they can spend the holidays in a manner that is meaningful for them. Most important is to remember to be grateful, for what you have and who you have, and most importantly, who you are.

So for this season, whether you celebrate Channukah, Cheistmas, Yule, Festivus, the Solstice, the year end or if you have no special celebration belonging to the season, I wish you peace of mind and remembrance that you are unique, beautiful and loved, by family, friends and by God.

Peace and blessings everybody!

Living on the wire

I moved to a new town at the beginning of September after a very short notice. Settling oddly into my new town, I expected to use the cyber space as my only link to the world I knew; a world vastly different than the one I moved into. I know this "new" town very well; I moved away from it 6 years ago. In those 6 years, i obtained a university degree, made friends from every corner of the globe and accepted a religion viewed much more negatively than the one I was brought up into. I love this new world in which I got involved; leaving it tore me apart. But I would still be able to "visit" this world virtually, right? Wrong!

Only a few days after arriving at my temporary residence, my access to the world came crashing: Literally! My computer became unusable! With limited data on my Internet-accessible phone, I was able to keep superficial contact with this world. And through my lack of distraction, I was forced to connect with this new world I was thrown into.

Reluctantly but gracefully (or my failed attempts at grace in these circumstances) I learned to integrate to new friends, changes in the town and of the work, I accepted a new pace of life and different activities, I acceptance the distance and sometimes lack of communication between friends I once considered close. I saw my world changing before my very eyes and was "disconnected" enough to really notice the change. 

Some would argue that I got meaner; it seemed I have also somewhat disconnected from myself along with the World Wide Web and my once sarcastic and witty edge has gotten sharper and maybe even cutting. I don't mean it to be but that seems to be my new protection against a world I expected to experience behind a screen. I have also become much more concerned with my own well-being; guarding my body, my heart, my mind and my health against the cold hard world. I discovered a new love for myself I did not always allow myself to hear. 

I re-discovered my love of books and discovered my own idea of comfort food. I elaborated my talents and discovered new passions, new goals and new ambitions.

This rest period, living off--or less--on the wire was truly therapeutic. I can thankfully say that this otherwise unfortunate situation has brought about some much-needed changes in myself and I my behaviour.

I now have a computer once again and I am confident that the interwebz won't suck me back in; I am looking forward to re-connecting with friends and to sharing my new insight with my fans, friends and followers but I now have new priorities which take precedence on all the other "things" the Internet has to offer.

Thank you for your continued support! I'm looking forward to more regular posts  on this bright new life I'm now living. Do not worry: I am still my God and Diversity-loving self and I will continue to write slightly controversial but hopefully inspiring posts about spirituality, relationships and diversity. Hopefully, over time these posts will become notes and insight rather than angry rants but beware--anger's still got to come out somehow, so how about in a healthy, non-violent way!?

I love you all for the sake of humanity and of it's Creator. Peace and blessings everybody!

K for Kiss

"Voila! In view humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the “vox populi” now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin, van guarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition.

The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta, held as a votive not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous.

Verily this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honour to meet you and you may call me V." -Hugo Weaving as V, V for Vendetta

While V for Vendetta, a wonderful piece of graphic novel/cinematic art, discusses everything from social attitudes towards government to political control of the population to the role of fear in genocide and other crimes against humanity, that is not the theme that captured my interest tonight. It is not either the beautifully juxtaposed cameos of classical music, classic cinema, alliteration and beautiful vocabulary. It's not even the subtle but noted praise of the Holy Quran in a post 9/11 Hollywood movie. What struck me tonight is a kiss. A single kiss between Evey (Natalie Portman) and Guy Fawks mask worn by V (Hugo Weaving).

In this one kiss, Evey reveals an undeniable love for 'V', a man or thing she has never seen in the flesh. She later reveals that 'V' is a bit of everyone; V is an ideal. I've seen this movie several times so it may be with a tainted outlook that I see this kiss as a bleak portrayal of vulnerability *and* strength through an ideal... An ideal that could never reciprocate the love and dedication she offers him.

I understand far too well this dedication; as a queer-activist and a Muslim, I realize that I am "married" to ideals that can be seen as quite "unpopular" by the mainstream. Moreover, I know that both these beliefs are often seen as opposite one another, antagonistic even. I ammetaphorically  sleeping with both enemies of mainstream Christian-right Noth American society. In many ways,  my wife and mistress of sorts have kept me safe and comfortable. Safe and comfortable  in the sense that I have clear conscience in the knowledge that I am doing my best to do what I truly and honestly believe to be morally right.

Without the added dilemma of juggling two arch nemesis, everyone who is married to their ideals will understand this struggle; finding the worth in the sacrifices required to remain dedicated to a cause. Because as much as I hate to say it, I sleep comfortably with a clear conscience every night, alone and in an empty bed.

Struggling for a cause does not always keep you warm but remember the people who do, remember the friends supporting you,remember the cause you are serving. And one day, I hope, we'll all find lips that kiss us back... Inshallah!

Follow the yellow brick road...

It is with the deepest regret that I announce that I will be leaving Canada's capital city, my home for the past 5 years. I had dreamed of moving to Ottawa since I was 12 and I still consider Ottawa to be my dream city. So why am I leaving? Because I have to follow the yellow brick road, of course!

Let me explain: in the past months my relationship has completely broken apart, I lost my job for the 2nd times in a year and my employment insurance was withheld far beyond the 3 weeks it should have taken. While under all of these stresses, I asked God for a good, permanent, full-time job that would allow me the security I needed to build a good life for myself and my mother.

Recently, I was offered a job that I didn't apply for. I was given a full-time, permanent position... only an hour away from my mother. If I had a job, I would probably refuse the position. If I had a boyfriend, I would probably refuse the position. If I had the assurance that I would find a position before my employment insurance ran out, I would refuse the position. But all of these things have been put in place so that I am in no position to refuse the job. I believe God has lined up this yellow brick road and I am not arrogant enough not to follow it.

In fact, the only reason I am not risking staying in Ottawa even with uncertain financial risks, single and jobless is because I believe that this is God handing me an opportunity greater than what I could possibly perceive it to be. The advantages such as money or closeness to family mean absolutely *nothing* to me. What means something to me is the fact that the stars aligned perfectly. I believe in following God's signs. It's what lead me to Islam, it's what got me through the tough nights, it's what gets me through every single day.

God has a plan.

I am extremely angry with God right now. I am angry at His plans. I am angry that His plans including losing the person I loved and perhaps losing even more friends once I move. I am angry that his plans include moving to a city that I already know to be homophobic, islamophobic and racist. I am angry that I am angry at His plan, because I never want to be angry at God. But I am. Regardless of my anger, I am trying to be the bigger person and trust. I trust that no matter how angry His plan makes me, He has planned to my best interest.

I am following the path God has lined up for me. I am following His yellow brick road even though I don't expect the Emerald City by any stretch of the imagination. I am following the yellow brick road kicking and screaming rather singing pretty songs, but I am following the yellow brick road wherever it leads me.

God has a plan.

Guilt tripping, shame and honesty!

Some people have had at me for being "shameless". Shamelessness is usually a derogatory term used to guilt people into silence. I don't understand this concept. I don't understand living in regrets: life happens, we make mistakes, we ask for forgiveness and we move on -- hopefully with the intention not to repeat our mistakes.

I am not going to say that I have absolutely no regret and I am not particularly proud of some moments of my life. However, there is no use to denying that it is, indeed, my life and while it was not all glitter and glory, I am proud of where I am today. I know there is always means for me to get better, but I will not deny the past. Because ignoring the past only further ensures that history will repeat itself. I wholeheartedly believe this. 

Denying the existence of our faults allows us to play judge to those around us. Whereas "coming clean" about your flaws, your faults, your shortcomings, to others, keeps you accountable. I came across a beautiful line recently which read "I prefer to be an honest sinner than a lying hypocrite". Someone took great offence to this line -- probably because of a previous conversation where I had tagged this person as the latter -- and instead tagged me as "shameless" for my past sins. It's annoying.

Let me enlighten you further on my theory on honest sinning: I commit sin, we all do. We are flawed in our humanity. That's a "duh" thing for me. I could live everyday without telling anyone of the sins I have committed and my repentance of those sins. Perhaps it would make me appear as a better Muslim, a better woman, a better person... but it wouldn't make it so. Moreover, if I lied about my sins, I would feel the guilt of not only committing the sin, but committing an extra sin to cover it up. 

I feel more guilty about covering up my sins, than I do about my sins themselves. The truth is, no one is deceived by lies except yourself. You get to live an existence of more pious precondition but your soul is still just as guilty of the sins you commit. The way I see it, I can tell people of the sins I committed and the lessons I learned, in the hopes that my experience will suffice to steer them away from repeating my mistakes. Don't try to guilt-trip me into being a "good little Muslim" who doesn't speak of her shortcomings, don't even try to make my ashamed of my past! God and I have had this discussion before, and while He did not respond, I've already settled with him: asked repentance and for the strength not to recede.

Muslim men make my hijab haraam

I've talked a few posts back about the experience of being female and being subjected to hoot, hollers and howling: it bothers me... a lot! More recently, a friend discussed her desire to stop wearing hijab. Her reason? She has received more unsolicited comments on her appearance from men, in the form of cat calling and overt sexual interest, since wearing it than she has without.

Some people were quick to blame her attitude, stating that she must be giving signs, opening herself up to it; others told her that hijab did in fact bring more attention on her than would not wearing it. I hate these attitudes: this victim-blaming crap that makes women responsible for every bit of sexual attention she gets.

No, her attitude is NOT the problem, neither is her scarf. The problem is that the types of guys who notice her and other hijabis don't know how to live! In fact, a majority of those who notice hijabis are MUSLIM MEN! That's what drives me insane!

Let us not forget that modesty was first demanded of men before it was demanded of women and that similar obligations of dress are "required" of men (for those believe hijab is a requirement): men should wear shirts to their elbows, pants below their knees and their heads should be covered. That's right, your sexist bs that I'm "not wearing hijab properly" because you can see my neck doesn't stand next to the fact that I can see your elbows!!!

Dear Muslim men,

Stop gawking at us. Stop making comments at how we do or do not wear proper hijab. Your "MashaAllah"s are gross and univited. It is NOT our responsibility to look unsexy it is YOUR responsibility to LOOK AWAY!. 

And sisters, please stop denying the systemic patriarchy taught to our men. They are already given the better prayer spaces, the better food, the better rights, the upper hand in both employments and search for a mate, more leeway when acting outside the fold of Islam -- please, we don't need you to make excuses for them on top of it.

There are some wonderful brothers out there, and yes, it's unfair that they are judged on the same standard as the low-lives who call themselves Muslim brothers but in fact are just olive-skinned skirt chasers. There is NOTHING WRONG in brothers having to prove that they are decent men. Wouldn't the entire world be a better place if we held everyone to a higher standard?!

You know you don't have to do that!

Peace and blessings.

So Ramadan is right around the corner and I am, I must admit, dreading the long hours of fasting in the warmest weather of the year. Ramadan in Canada will be taking place during some of the longest days of summer averaging 17.5 hours between dawn and dusk. Yet, Ramadan was --and is-- a large contributing factor to why I am a Muslim. After my first 30-day fast, I was in awe of  the insight it gave me on my body, on the greatness of God's power of creation, and God's ability to instill a will into my soul that is greater than the needs, even the biological ones. 

So I complain, but only in the same sense that one complains about having to go to work, or to get up in the morning: I complain about something I know I must do --if not a social/religious obligation, at least a personal one. Not that it is always pleasant, just like my headscarf is not always pleasant: sure it is warm and sometimes muggy and can be limiting in certain respects, but then there's is this greater sense of self-respect, of self-love and pride which I feel while wearing it which completely outweighs even the worst aspects of it.

What troubles me, is the comments I receive of "well, you know you don't have to do it". Honestly, it bothers me as much if not more than it bothers me when I receive it as an answer to my complaining about working out. The sharing of the complaint in the first place means a certain bond between myself and the person I am speaking to, at least a superficial one. An answer so critical and cynical tells me that the person with whom I am dialogue does not understand me, does not understand my purpose, the purpose of my actions. More importantly, it refers to a lack of consideration and a lack of respect for what I am doing.

I have free will over everything I do, just like anyone else. If you are going to be technical, no one "has" to work, no one "has" to follow the law, no one "has" to wake up in the morning, eat, sleep, take care of each other... but we do --and not always because we want to. Sometimes, we do things because they make us a better human being, because it makes the world around us a better place, because it allows us greater freedom in achieving greater wants in life. For example, many of us will do some unpleasant chores in order to feel comfortable in our homes --not because we like the cleaning process. 

A better, kinder question, when lacking the understanding of a subject is not to state matter-of-fact-ly that "I do not *have* to do it" but perhaps to ask why I do. So why do I fast 30 days, from sunrise to sunset, making myself quite uncomfortable in the process? Because there is comfort in this discomfort: a comfort which lasts much longer than 30 days and much longer than 17.5 hrs/day: the comfort that I can control my body, my needs, my wants, and I can achieve whatever I put my mind to. The comfort of knowing that I *will* be eating 3 times a day for the remaining 335 days of the year. The comfort of knowing that I have been giving by God the ability to feel this comfort as part of a test of will and not through circumstances which do not allow otherwise.

I am blessed to have the opportunity to fast Ramadan, and while I might whine and complain, the successes I will achieve internally will far outweigh the external discomfort. So yes, I "need" to fast. I need to fast because nothing else has ever brought me this close to peace -- and even if nothing happens to me if I don't... nothing happens to me if I don't... and that in itself is the gravest of all the consequences!