Swinging Door

"When we become truly ourselves, we just become a swinging door and we are purely independent of and at the same time dependent upon everything."

My mother has always told me I say too much, by which she means she would appreciate if more of what is in my head stayed inside my head. I have only followed her advice when I have done or seen things which have been outlined to require grave consequences if revealed, and in regard to those instances, I feel like I oppressed my soul for having taken part in something that must be hidden. Listen, I know that I wouldn't feel that way if those things hadn't been outlined as such, but they were and I do. So here's everything else.

If you don't do drugs, you will learn other ways to step back and look at your own life. You realize that's what you wanted in the first place, when you still had control. You will remember you always knew how to tear yourself away, if necessary, to open your laden arms and stop time to take stock-- what exactly are you carrying? Do you need all that? The questions have changed, and I'm getting better at making the assessment, but this act remains essential to maintaining sanity. It does matter what you step back into, too.

I need a close look, so I'm up late tonight. It's only 1:22AM in California. Still late for me these days, but I don't have to work tomorrow or the next day, I'm not tired because I didn't work yesterday or the day before. I don't have to worry about falling asleep late and missing the dawn prayer because I'm on my period, so excused this week. I'm not studying for a certification exam and I'm not in school or recovering from being in school. I haven't been in love in about 18 months. And my life has taken shape recently (read: I got my shit together) in a way that I had once imagined over twelve years ago and then completely forgotten about. Oh, and the world seems to be going to shit and I have never felt more calm about it. In other words, the universe has aligned and conditions for reflection are perfect. And I'm going to do that publicly because, don't you want to know how I did it all?

Awh, internal laudatory chorus. Stawpppp. It wasn't narcissism. I swear.

We've come a long way since the two whitest kids at my school asked me if I was related to Osama Bin Laden and if I believed in god, respectively. The other day, the whitest person at work asked me what the Muslim community thinks about ______. Chicken? Printer cartridges? Toilet Paper? I'm not actually sure. I faded out for a second and for that paranoid second, I wondered if he was asking me for A Reason and reassured myself-- this is not something I need to hide. Whatever he asked, I recovered in time to read him the first sentence of this paragraph, minus the bit about white kids. I think he got my point because he went on to express a bunch of sympathy for the disenfranchised (while maintaining a fiscal conservative stance). At least the one time that a non-Muslim POC bullied me, he had the awareness, in 2002, as a pre-teen, to put a towel on his head and imitate a muezzin. If I hadn't been terrified, I might have been impressed.

I've lost track of details. Are things worse now than they were fourteen years ago? I think so. But I can't say I've been trying to keep track of everything. It takes a considerable amount of work to go from literary studies (academic analysis of written cultural artifacts) to maintaining and building data systems. (That's a horrible description of it. My profession is not good at descriptions of our work. I apologize. I work on distributed databases. Sometimes I say, hey, it's still a matter of understanding the organization of information. Or, like, you know, the basic human experience of understanding.) First, I had to change from being a person who engages through only observation, however creatively or intelligently I did so, to a person who takes initiative and moves both ideas and resources. I also needed both an art degree and a science degree. I also fell in love and broke my heart a bunch of times. I swallowed my pride. I treated depression with unsanctioned drugs. I moved halfway across the country, and then entirely across the country. I pursued esoteric religion.

So I can't fully tell you how I ended up back on the path I meant to take when I was fifteen, the person I wanted to be before I realized how complicated global politics was going to make my life. You can't contain my whole life. You don't need to. No one can. But there are some parts that are critical for us to share.

I do still occasionally catch the news. Sometimes it can't be helped. I don't exactly avoid it, but I also don't feel constantly threatened. I do care. I pray for the dead. I pray for the living. I give what I can to people who have lost their homes, their families, their livelihood. I hope to do more of that. I work because I can and it's okay that some people can't do as much.

But I don't have all the defensive arguments down. I refuse to. I understand why they're important to some people. But I need more than that, deeper and wider. Yet, I already have everything I need.

I'm not who I'm not. I'm not even who I am. Identity, or what I project, where I feel I belong or who I show alliance with or however you want to define it, is only a small part of the self. I think most people only use a small part of the self. And when you have very little, you are likely to hold what you have very tightly. And probably spend all your money on it. But that's not the point of self. The point is to let it go.



the quote at the beginning is from a zen member of my family

Dreaming of Potato Chips During Ramadan

Ramadan Kareem! I've been busy getting ready to go back to school again, but now it's Ramadan, a time for reflection, so I'm back. A lot of people ask me to explain the point of Ramadan. I just looked up the interpretation of a dream I had while oversleeping this morning and I think it about sums up what Ramadan means:

Me: Why am I dreaming of potato chips?
Internet: "To see or eat potato chips in your dream symbolizes your overindulgent behavior."
Me: And waking up convinced I'm thirsty when it's Ramadan and I can't drink water?
Internet: "To dream that you are thirsty symbolizes an unmet need. There is an emotional void in your life. Or you may be seeking inspiration, motivation or just an extra push."

That dream was probably also a reflection of this train of thought I had last night at the iftar party: "Ahhh this biryani is soooo good! I want to eat more! Am I still hungry? No, I'm not hungry but it isssss Ramadan and it's okay if I overeat because I won't be able to eat all day tomorrow or the next day or the next day...."



A lot of people use food to fill emotional needs. A desire to over-indulge in food is probably a sign of or even just direct emotional over-indulgence, making up for something you lack or comforting something that hurts superfluously rather than working to make yourself stronger or heal yourself. Because issues with food often indicate issues with control, the desire to indulge and comfort yourself probably comes out of feeling like you don't have enough control to make the necessary changes in your life. Sometimes people overindulge because they are out of touch with themselves and don't know their actual need. A lot of over-eating is caused by dehydration: by your body telling you it needs water, you being so out of touch with yourself that you don't realize you're thirsty and mistake it for a craving you can't satisfy when a glass of water would've done the trick.

It's not bad to indulge once in awhile but doing it for the wrong reasons will makes things worse. It becomes an emotional crutch. It's not a class A addiction, necessarily, but you may be headed in that direction. Some people may also it to another level, upon realizing their eating habits are control related, by trying to take back that control by starving themselves or making themselves throw up.

I appreciate having a month dedicated to emotional discipline scheduled yearly into my life. To gain power over even yourself, you have to become attuned with yourself, to know and trust yourself enough to peacefully submit to your needs rather than drown them out with a power trip of indulgence. Fasting helps you clear your head of the quick fix, instant gratification approach to life that's so easy to fall into and challenges you to address your deeper needs. It is a call to improve yourself, to change something in your life for the better.

If you fall back into your old ways at the end of Ramadan, just that you completed one fast means you challenged your amount of self-control, won, and came away that much stronger. After a month, you'll hopefully come away with realizations about yourself you can focus on and improve upon or you really like the way one change you made during Ramadan worked in your life and that's definitely enough to call it a success.

If you're a non-Muslim friend or you aren't much interested in Islam, religion, psychology or philosophy, what I've said so far is the basic explanation I have for the month of fasting. If you're interested in a more in-depth explanation, please continue reading.



A lot of people say that the discomfort of being hungry, the pain of absence reminds them to be God conscious. That works for some people, with the explanation that in trying times, you should turn to God because God is the source of all strength and all power. I don't think this is wrong but I am wary of associating God only with pain. Besides, in that line of thinking, it would make sense to deprive yourself an unhealthy amount, believing this would make you even more God conscious. But being unhealthy is forbidden by God because it is too great a challenge for the faith of any believer but the practiced, highly disciplined ascetic/Sufi.

The way I see it, not eating during the hours of light, the hours of awakeness/awareness, is a call to figure out your real needs. You relinquish your option to cloud your sense of fulfillment with physical satisfaction. Doing this for a religious reason, you relinquish that choice/freedom/control to God. Well, you remind yourself that you were given that option by God in the first place by giving it up. By giving it up, you check yourself and make sure you aren't abusing this simple power, because an abuse of power is the classical sign of a failing struggle for more power. By giving it up, paradoxically, you gain control because you gain God's favor and God's favor is expressed with an endowment of power. It may not be the power you want, necessarily. But you have learned to trust, because when you give up your control to someone, it's an act of trust, and you'll have to trust that the power you are given is, if not what you want, what you need.

Fasting is also a lesson in the nature of power, that you must first give it up and gain trust, which is demonstrated through nearly every facet of the Prophet Muhammad's life, whose trademark (or trade name...in his time merchants gained reputation through the names they were given in their trade) was Al-Amin, the trustworthy.

What I'm saying is, if you're like me and you're dreaming of potato chips at the beginning of Ramadan and waking up in a panic thinking you're thirsty, this might be a sign of the path that can take you far in right direction, because you have a long way to go. Let the adventure begin!

Beauty is a Well-Organized Mind

Brown lady at the counter: you are so pretty! you look like a picture.
White lady nearby: you are. I'm thinking national geographic. 
Brown lady: no, I mean by any standard.

THANK YOU.

I have a vendetta against the idea of"national geographic" aka "exotic" prettiness. Well meaning people, don't make me make you feel awkward by attempting to compliment me with this idea. That the mere paradigm shift of finding beauty in someone without apparently nordic ancestry can be considered worldly, adventurous, cool, rebellious taste makes the rest of white people seem unfairly stuffy. Not to mention that I resent my image being used as a marker of taste, cool or otherwise. That my image can only be beautiful in a way that serves the viewer either objectifies me or suggests a wishful master-slave mindset, which can be synonymous. And since I am neither an object nor a slave probably means the viewer resents me for being who I am where I am. In other words, people who think I'm exotic think I don't belong.

Unless they think that the state of not being in one's native place, being unusually juxtaposed with one's background, is beautiful. In which case, I'm still offended because a brown person among white people is out of place but a white person among brown people is usually construed as worldly, adventurous, cool, rebellious and all you've done is ghettoize me.

I don't really agree with the brown lady's beauty standards either but at least her compliment was really a compliment and not backhanded white supremacy. She proved that by following her compliment up with defending me.

So, what beauty standards do I endorse? That would be inner beauty. What's inner beauty? I'm gonna go with my mom and with Dumbledore and say that inner beauty, which I'm going to say is also eternal beauty, is a well-organized mind. Given my tendency to talk about religion, anti-rationalism, and social justice, maybe you expected this to be focused on the heart. Anyone who gets a Dumbledore citation, though, might guess that your heart should help you organize your mind. I think my heart is where my inner child lives and though I will never shut her out, she is reactionary, fickle and all ego and as an adult, it would be blind or lazy of me to not have learned better about some things.

As I tried to say from the beginning, though I'm not sure I said it the same way, this blog has been mostly about figuring out my organizing principles. I think I like this way of saying it better.

Park 51, Muslim America and my purpose in life

 Park 51, also known derogatorily as the Ground Zero Mosque, recently asked its Twitter followers, myself included, to email their website's editor if they were interested in blogging for them. I decided I might as well shoot them an email. My email, which was perhaps inappropriately long, described my own relationship with Ground Zero, how it was similar to that of Park51's, how it was formative to my identity as an American Muslim and how all this might be pertinent to Muslim Americans and Americans at large.

Writing that letter reminded me of the way I felt when I was in seventh grade, the way I felt when I was in high school and my intensively formative relationship with 9/11-- a relationship I'd unknowingly and unwillingly grown out of. I don't think my parents understood the impact of 9/11 on a young Muslim hijabi just finding her place in the world, considering their protests to my interests. I know I could have tried to persevere in my interests regardless--and I kind of did, but I really had no idea what to do or any system of support to guide me. It was not an abandoned interest, it was a dream deferred. And you know what happens to those.

Whether I am given the chance to blog for Park51 or not. writing that letter to them revived my dream and reminded me of what I believe to be my purpose in this life. Whether I had known it as exactly as I know it now, I'm not sure, so maybe articulating my blog ideas actually made me realize my purpose. Derailed from my purpose, I had no motivation.

In my letter, I said,

Whether we like it or not, 9/11 and it’s enduring aftermath are an integral part of the American Muslim identity. However, the historical evocation of our entrance into the general American consciousness is still in our hands to mold and this is an opportunity that must not elude us.

I may have less options for how to approach this than I might have had if I had pursued this in college. However, I do well with making do with what little I have. Thank you, Park51.

Guess who's back?

On the rearranging of disagreeable ways:

Creativity has nothing to do with the act of creating or invention. It is not solely artistic but the best art certainly interacts intimately with the idea of creativity. Creativity is kind of a misnomer for the ability to see something in many different ways. It's divergent thinking. Its resourcefulness. It's cleverness. At its best, creativity allows us to make the most of what we have.

In order to decide how you can make the most of what you have, you have to be able to see different ways of how to do best by what you have. For example, if you have a towel and you can only imagine it to be a device used to dry off wet things, you are limited in a situation in which you need something to serve as a pillow but only have a towel. (That example was inspired by The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.)

On the other hand, using a towel as a pillow is a creative use of a towel. An increasing amount of imagination is required to see an object or situation in increasingly unconventional ways, considered to be more creative ways. It's not that you have to accept that believing a towel is a device used to dry off wet things is a wrong conceptualization of a towel, but you have to accept that in a situation in which you have a towel and need something that is not a towel, the towel can and must be thought of differently.

As a poor kid, I accepted that fact. First, you look around you and see that what you have is not quite what you want and sometimes not even what you need. You must then fully understand what you want/need and what you have. Then, you have to accept that what you have is not some kind of punishment. It does not matter if you have been wronged or if you deserved better. If you feel like your limited situation is a punishment, at least face the toil of having to be creative as your penance. If you feel you have been wronged, embrace the toil as something that will make you stronger and prove you to be more resilient than those who have wronged you would have imagined. Sometimes, you are your own disciplinarian or have done yourself wrong to land yourself in your situation. Maybe you deserved it. Good for you. But now you have to learn from it and, as always, make the best of what you have.

As I just implied, you have to exercise creativity even in non-material circumstances. Exercising it in material circumstances can help you conserve resources but being able to exercise creativity when you are depressed, for example, can save your life. I have demonstrated a dangerous ease for depressive proclivities. However, if I think to myself that my depression can be solved by a change in perspective, that there must be a better way to look at things or a better attitude to have towards them and cling to that conviction, I have found myself able to recover without ever having used mood enhancing drugs.

It's only in the context of creativity that the expression "Pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps" really makes any sense.

So rearrange disagreeable ways that brought you the darkness

"The Winds of War" Jedi Mind Tricks