It starts with surrender

Hello there, my love.

It's been 3 years since we've last connected and it feels like not much as changed in the past three years but as I go deeper and think back, a lot has transformed my life into how it is now. Waw!

Where to begin? From the start? No, I don't think so, otherwise this would be a long ass post. 

Let's start with one word, surrender. 

Disclaimer: Before we begin, I felt called to put a disclaimer. 

This is my honest truth, experience, and thoughts. It may not be the same as yours so if in any way this post makes you uncomfortable, I invite you to close this page and go with love in your heart.

The walking path

Since 2020, when the pandemic hit the world and as we all were forced indoors, I was one of those people who celebrated staying inside and having a socially valid excuse, without judgment, for not socializing with others. I have categorized myself as an ambivert so I generally enjoy being indoors 24/7, and zoom calls adequately served my need to socialize. 

Instead of attending Toastmasters meetings 3 times a week and going to cafes and brunches weekly, I had to find something of value to fill my time. It was around April 2020 when I was presented a program that put me on the path towards surrender and played a part into transforming my life—and I'll tell you now that it was not a clean path, it had tons of rocks, dirt, and all that nasty that I needed to get through in order to bow my head down in surrender. And I am still working on surrendering fully every, single, day. It's such a journey. 

Do You Host Blame-Shame Parties?

Photo by Igor Starkov

Throughout these months, I've realized that I feel more in tune with my intuition than I did a year ago. I trust in it more and it feels like we're more partners than simple friends we were before. We've grown through mistakes and lots of crying, but I'm glad we're at this place where we're almost one.

Our trip to Europe was an adventure but, I do regret a few things. One of which was being too scared to really follow my gut to go out on my own because I didn't know the language. Being out with the group was hard enough but with their support and translating, I was able to get by. But my image of staying in a cafe, reading, writing, practising calligraphy didn't come to life because I was too fearful of making a fool out of myself in my pronunciations and if I'm honest with myself I do regret that part. 

The instant feeling of regret is blame but there is no one or nothing to blame at all. Why do we always want someone or something to blame? To feel better about ourselves? That never really works out, does it? It always brings up arguments and you'll fight back to make yourself feel superior to the other party. 

"Damn it, fear! Why do you always get in the way?"

Although you genuinely are superior to fear, by putting the blame to it, you're bringing yourself down alongside it. You'll feel awful and sulk in that blame-shame party for a bit and when something else gets your attention, you'll feel great! But when you think about that regret, dan dan dan, that blame-shame party starts again, like a cycle. 

My Reasons for Feeling Uncomfortable with my Religion

Photo by Ryan Holloway 

Ramadan. It's the ninth month of the Hijri Calendar (Islamic Calendar) where Muslims around the world observe the practice of fasting from sunrise to sunset. It was believed that it was during this month that the Holy book, Qur'an was revealed to the final Prophet Mohammed (peace be upon him). A form of charity, compassion, empathy is doubled more so if acted upon this month because it is also believed to be one of the holiest months of the year.

It's the last week of Ramadan this week and I — am just going to say it without judgement — have only fasted once in my 24 years on this earth. That's right. I'm one of those "Chicken Nugget" Muslims who don't fast. And the reasons why? Well, let me break it down for you.

Disclaimer: This is my own honest truth, so it doesn't mean that it's the same for those who don't practice. Their reasons could be completely different. These reasons are my own. If at any point you feel anger or uncomfortable with this post, you're most welcome to close this page. No judgement from my end. 

Where it all started

When I was growing up, I was taught the Islamic religion. As a child, I used to pray at least weekly when my cousins would come over for some bonding, and we would pray together. It was a sort of bonding that is a distant memory that I only remember through flashing scenes and photographs from the past. But I think it was just a month or a few months in, and I stopped praying altogether.

There are Miracles and There are Downward Spirals

Photo by JC Gellidon

Last year, I flew to Kuwait for the first time for a Toastmasters Workshop and had a disturbing experience. It was my second time travelling alone, and although it was another leap, it flew out of hand. I'm not going to go into details about that trip since that's another story to tell, but I will tell you this, there were tears, a cloud of negativity, blood stains, cramps, and anxiety attacks. It was a tough trip that I am ironically grateful that happened in a country that looked like home—legit, with flat houses, sand, sea, and dates trees which makes a typical gulf island. And this year, I had to fly back to Kuwait this May for another Toastmasters Conference, and this time, I flew with the intention of changing my perception of the country.

I had never felt so determined to do something as vague as changing my perception of a country. I mean, how can you actually force that to happen? You have a bad experience and it's out of your control, right? Nope. I had it all wrong.

I put my intention forward and surrender to your guidance and path.

I remember praying and praying, and I never thought that my prayers would be answered, but it was. For the most part. 

One Way to Cope with Being Impatient

I have come to understand that I'm one of those impatient humans. When plans don't go as planned, especially when it comes to timing, you'll hear something fall on the floor, a door banging shut, or snarky comments about your tardiness. That's been me ever since I was a little girl — my family can testify to that statement. But the voice that always comes to me when I'm in this mood is my mom, "Patience, Nada, patience," she used to tell me that over and over again when I things wouldn't go my way. But, I've learned to cope with being impatient, and I'm learning to do so every day my patience gets tested, which was so hard!

Truth Comes With One Post At A Time

Sooo... hey Y'all! *guilty wave*

Long time no write. Literally.

Every time I think that I'm ready to dive back into blogging, I go blank. When I have a good topic for a post, I go blank the moment I open up the "New Post" page. But today, I'm fed up. I want to get real with you all today and say this;

A Simple Reason Why You Should Accept Your Limits

I care too much about the sanity of my own mind and the edurance of my body to even try to push beyond my limits. I'm the kind of person who would rather take it slow and steady rather than to stress out my body too much to get where I want. Call me lazy, entitled, spoiled but that's just me.

We're grown to believe that hardwork gets you outcome. Which is completely true, but you have to know where your limits stand rather than working until you fall ill and start making careless mistakes because you're tired all the time. What are you doing to your body? Why are you pushing it so darn hard to achieve something that might not matter in 10 years time?