Birthday Reflections

My original intention with this post was to reflect on my understanding of the nature of family. A wise (and quite fabulous) UU is often quick to remind me that there is the family we are born into and the family we choose. Those who know my story are aware of why these words are sometimes important for me to hear. The past several years have found me struggling to balance my role within these two families, often in ways that were inauthentic and harmful to myself and others. It was only recently that I began to develop the courage to live a life that truly reflected my beliefs, and allowed me to come into my identity. In doing so, I finally began to understand a new definition of family that allowed me to surround myself with unconditional acceptance, regardless of relation.

My family includes everyone. Everyone whose life has influenced my own, or whose life I have touched is in my family. However, my family consists of cycles of members, who are brought into or taken out of my life as their presence becomes helpful or harmful. There are certain cycles that fit at different moments, as fleeting as one minute long to as enduring as several years together. There are members who are constantly within each cycle, whose presence is always a loving and accepting one. More difficult for me to learn was the reality that a member’s presence could change from helpful to hurtful if during the wrong cycle. My attempts to keep family members in a cycle which did not fit their role in my life have only led to pain for both parties, and prevented my own personal growth. As I began to let people flow into and out of my family cycle, I learned something wonderful about my life- I am permanently blessed with love.

Every step of my life’s journey has been supported by the love of my family- given, chosen, or unseen. The decisions I have made have always had the support of someone who wanted nothing more than for me to pursue that which brings me joy. Every risk I have taken has been backed by someone who believed in my abilities, and someone who was willing to catch me should I fall. My words of self-criticism are always met with words of love and acceptance, and my prideful expressions are inevitably followed by someone else’s high five, hug, or “damn right!” Even during times in which I feel as though anger or sadness are enveloping my existence, there is always at least one voice, if not a (literal) chorus reminding me that there is so much to celebrate. There is always someone in my presence who brings me laughter, sometimes at inappropriate times. And there is always a reason to smile. Most importantly, my family has reminded me that I should always love myself. Otherwise, I make it easier for others to disrespect me and pretend as though I am unworthy of their love. And I deserve better.

So to each of my family cycles, I say thank you. Your presence in my life, whether fleeting or permanent, has helped me to understand just how easy it is to be loved. And now that I know how great it feels, I cannot wait to return the favor.

Day of Dignity: United in Love

This past Saturday marked the return of the “Day of Dignity,” a national event sponsored by Islamic Relief USA. Here in Philadelphia, this year’s participating event was hosted by the Pennsylvania chapters of both Islamic Relief USA and the Council on American-Islamic Relations, as well as the First Unitarian Church of Philadelphia. This year was not the first time these organizations had come together to participate in Day of Dignity; they had collaborated on this event for several years now. But this year was the first that I had ever heard of this event. Naturally, as a Unitarian Universalist with a Muslim upbringing, there was no way I was letting this experience pass me by.

When I arrived at 10:45 on Saturday morning to help with setup I was stunned by the size of the operation. The parking lot we were using for this year’s event had been taken over by numerous tented stations, filled with boxes upon boxes of food and supplies. A U-Haul truck was parked just outside the lot holding even more supplies. Dozens of individuals were already hard at work, many of which I assume had been there since the crack of dawn. Leading the setup was Monika Nagpal from Islamic Relief USA, who seemed to have an endless amount of energy as she darted from station to station, making sure every volunteer was doing something productive.

I was put to work immediately, making snack packs for the volunteers, each consisting of a banana, a granola bar, and a bag of pretzels. I could tell the day was going to be an intense one. Next to me also working on these bags was a mother and her children, who had all brought along friends to help with the day’s activities. As I looked around, I noticed just how many families seemed to have come together to show kindness and respect to their neighbors. One volunteer, a junior in college, had traveled here from New York on his sister’s request. He had lovingly dedicated his Saturday to reaching out to people he had never met, and may never again see. Witnessing his dedication was an incredibly powerful moment- he truly wanted to be there. As we finished up making the volunteer snack bags, we both went off in search of our next task.

Eventually, the number of volunteers overcame the number of tasks that remained. Those of us who were waiting to be assigned to our volunteer duties once the distribution began stood to the side and got to know one another a bit more. I met two more “first-timers” who had heard about the purpose of today and were eager to participate. We discovered that we all had a strong affinity for Axis of Evil, a standup comedy tour that featured Middle Eastern comedians. The conversation shifted to our professional lives, and eventually we began to share stories about our friends and family who had battled, or were currently battling, with cancer. The ease with which we were all able to connect with one another was a clear reflection of our compassionate personalities. There was a sense of appreciation for our shared experience and our desire to help our brothers and sisters whom the world had forced into challenging circumstances.

I was put on “security.” The basis for my selection? I was a friendly-looking but intimidating woman. I took that as a compliment, and was none too surprised seeing as I had been an RA in college for three years. The wonderful thing about my “security” post however was that it had virtually no security-type responsibilities. I was stationed at the food/supply line exit, and told to direct everyone to the medical services tent. My inner public health educator was thrilled to be responsible for plugging the medical services available, which included not only an array of personal health materials, but blood pressure tests, blood-glucose screenings, same-day HIV tests, and reading glasses. Seriously, I was stoked. I was directed to my post around noon. And that was when it occurred to me- we were not officially opening until 1:00pm, but already had close to 100 people eagerly waiting for us to begin. What were we supposed to do?

The answer was actually quite simple- talk. For that hour while I was standing at my post, I engaged in conversations with men and women who were so full of life and inspiration, and listened to some incredible stories. Although these individuals were in intensely difficult situations, their spirit was not broken, and our laughter persisted the entire hour. I quickly found myself appreciating the point of the day- we were not bringing dignity to our fellow human beings but simply recognizing it. Our provision of supplies and services was not charity, and we were not giving out food, clothing, and medical care out of pity. Our coming together that day was an acknowledgement of a simple truth- the inherent worth and dignity of every person. Our shared presence, volunteers and attendees together, was an affirmation of this principle, which firmly united us regardless of our race, religion, or socioeconomic status.

By the time the line finally opened at 1:00pm, hundreds of people had arrived to receive an incredibly holistic set of items. Stations were set up with sweatshirts, underwear, toys, school supplies, hygiene kits, food, beverages- it was an impressive collection. So many supplies were distributed that volunteers were enlisted to help walk people down the line so that they did not drop any of the items they were carrying (before then, multiple slices of pizza met a facedown end on the asphalt). As the first few people walked out of the line, I could not help but smile- this was pretty awesome. When I told them about the medical services tent and what materials and tests were available, I was greeted with an incredible amount of enthusiasm. “There are reading glasses? Oh man, I need a pair!” The gratitude I witnessed was so infectious, I found myself thanking every person exiting the line, for letting us be with them that day. I wore a true smile the entire time I stood in my post as “bouncer-greeter” and never once did it feel forced. As I looked around at all the other volunteers, I could tell each one was experiencing the same joy and love. Who would have thought that an empty parking lot could bring so much happiness to so many people in just a couple of hours?

As we progressed further into the distribution process, we managed to hit a magnificent stride, and in-depth conversations began again. Volunteers walked around and socialized with attendees, making sure that they had managed to obtain all the items that were available to them. The medical services tent was booming with business, and many attendees expressed excitement about having a new set of school supplies for their upcoming classes. Even though the air was at times chilly and the threat of rain never waned, spirits remained high and the smiles stayed on everyone’s faces. It might sound crazy, but I am convinced that the lack of rain was somehow connected to the incredible amount of love that flowed freely between all who were present that day. Eventually the day drew to a close, with all of the supplies having been distributed and a few dozen soft-pretzels remaining. Some volunteers began to help with the cleanup by picking up trash and rounding up cones. Others spoke with some of the individuals who had stayed after the distribution and had enjoyed the company so much that they did not want to leave. Slowly, the space we were in began to look more like a parking lot, and the physical evidence of our time together faded away.

The Day of Dignity represents so much more than an opportunity to volunteer in the community for a single Saturday. This event is an incredible demonstration of the power of religious cooperation and respect. Those of us who came to volunteer for this day came from a variety of faith backgrounds, but our compassionate personalities helped us to recognize and demonstrate that our differences did not matter. The Day of Dignity brought together two faith communities that share a core belief- every person has an inherent self-worth that must be recognized by all others. Our mutual appreciation for this single principle was so incredibly powerful, it turned a parking lot into a celebration. It turned an overcast and chilly Saturday into a day filled with joy and laughter. It turned perfect strangers into friends, uniting individuals in love.

The 2011 Multicultural Leadership School

Connection. Celebration. Love. If I was asked to select three words to describe my experience at this summer’s Multicultural Leadership School, those ones would be at the top of the list. Although I had been told the experience would be a transformative one, I had no idea how accurate that description would be. The opportunity to engage in meaningful dialogue and leadership development activities was not unexpected, as the program was a leadership initiative hosted by the Unitarian Universalist Association. But what came as an overwhelmingly pleasant surprise was the immediate and powerful sense of community that permeated throughout the entire experience. We were a dozen youths and young adults from vastly different parts of the country, including Seattle, Los Angeles, Boston, and Birmingham. We had never met each other before (save for one or two exceptions), and many of us were relatively new to the UU faith tradition. But from the moment we sat down for dinner upon our arrival, we forged joyful bonds of love and celebration that remain with us to this day (seriously, our Facebook group is pretty fabulous). The community we created in those short four-and-a-half days was more open and accepting than any in which I had ever participated, with an energy unrivaled by even the most sugar-saturated kindergarteners. Though our time together was brief, our growth as a group and as individuals has had a lasting impact on our lives, which we proudly share with others as we embark on our own unique, but forever connected journeys.

A Celebration of Difference

As a Multicultural Leadership School, one of the greatest strengths of the program was its celebration of difference and diversity. Our celebration began on the very first night, when we each shared an item of importance to us during our opening worship. An incredible variety of dreams, talents, and histories came out of the stories told that evening, some painful, some humorous, but all beautiful. Our love for each others' journeys continued to show as we filled our “basket of community gifts” with expectations of joy, respect, and honesty.  Our group had come together because of our uncommon backgrounds, and in a paradoxical way, our differences united us. While we all identified as Unitarian Universalist in some way or another, there was a deep understanding that we each had unique and equally valid experiences that helped to define our individual identities. All of us came into the program with a perception of our selves and how we were viewed in our respective communities. Through different activities involving pipe cleaners, crayons, and enthusiastically animated videos, we were able to better connect with our identities, and celebrate our strengths. As each of us shared the complexity and beauty of our individuality with the group, an overwhelming feeling of love spread throughout the room. We were in a safe space, where all that we were and hoped to be was celebrated and respected. We learned to recognize diversity in new ways, and were reminded of the importance of emotional validation and appreciation. Compassionate listening and heartfelt sharing strengthened our bonds, and promoted a flow of ideas that could have sustained weeks of learning. Through our deep connections with one another, we quickly recognized the ways in which each attendee strengthened our group dynamic, and eagerly shared our personal experiences to encourage mutual growth.

A Vision for the Future

Every individual in attendance at this year’s MLS was a leader in their community and congregation. Everyone in the room was already working towards a better future for Unitarian Universalism, society, and the world. As the future of our living tradition and ever-evolving faith community, we all shared a vision for change, and had chosen to attend the MLS as a means of helping us on the way to realizing that vision. Beyond learning skills and strategies that would allow us to serve as more effective leaders, we were given a special opportunity to learn from the experiences of current UUA leaders. From the onset of our program, our three facilitators exuded extraordinary passion for their work and a deep appreciation for our presence. They shared with us their experiences as Unitarian Universalists of color, inspiring us with the genuineness of their joys, hardships, and hopes. Their sincere desire to hear from us as attendees was equally, if not more moving- they respected the significance of our experiences too. Thanks to our facilitators’ appreciation of our beauty, a theme emerged when we were approximately halfway through our program- we recognized ourselves as being “fabulous, awesome, and terrific”. Although those words were initially intended to help designate groups for a conflict-resolution activity, the twelve of us ran with the idea and were proud to call ourselves…FAT. We celebrated ourselves and each other, our abilities and our potential, our uniqueness and our community. Using our love for one another, we turned a tiny, three-letter word into a beautiful expression of strength and joy- we were FAT!  It is impossible to not feel deeply connected after sharing so much love.

As current and future leaders, we were also blessed with the opportunity to meet individuals whose work at the UUA honored the diversity and celebration inherent in our living tradition. We connected with UUA leaders who had witnessed our faith tradition work through culturally-inattentive periods in its recent history, and who had fought for a greater adherence to our principles. All of those whom we met expressed a sincere appreciation for our presence, and a hope that we would bring sustainable change to our faith and its appreciation of diversity. Their energy and passion was an inspiration for all of us, and their honest responses to our difficult questions were refreshing reminders of our ability to make a difference. We were able to speak with Kay Montgomery, who possessed a seemingly infinite knowledge of the UUA and enthusiasm for the social justice work achieved by each of its presidents. Her visit to our group moved one attendee so much that she specifically requested to shake her hand as she prepared to leave. She got a hug. We later had a surprise visit from Gini Courter, who had an unmatched ability to know something or someone in each of our congregations. Her humor and magnetism made her an instant celebrity, and prompted a lineup of individuals who wanted a picture with her. She was also rocking a pretty fabulous Star Wars cap. Our final visitor was Peter Morales, who, although he had just been convicted of a misdemeanor for protesting Arizona’s immigration laws, was incredibly receptive to our questions about the UU faith tradition and the UUA as an organization. When asked how he would describe Unitarian Universalism to someone inquiring about our beliefs, he offered this beautiful sentence as part of his response: “What we love is more important than what we believe.” You can’t make this stuff up.

But wait, there’s more. As part of our program experience, we were able to take a tour of the UUA offices, both at the 25 Beacon Street and Beacon Press buildings. Along our way, we met with people who worked in vastly different capacities, but all with the same mission- to help our faith community grow. We met individuals who managed business elements, including employee health coverage (spiritual well-being is that much easier to pursue if you don’t have a cold). We learned about the work being done to increase our capacity for campus ministry, and new opportunities to involve youths and young adults in the UUA decision-making process. We met staff members who worked on publications targeted at improving our appreciation of diversity, and individuals who had spent countless hours working on the Tapestry of Faith initiative (ask them about the “cults” section). Regardless of the specifics of their positions, every person we met was genuinely happy to entertain us and our questions. Each moment presented an exceptional opportunity to see and celebrate the organizational elements of our faith tradition, to help us develop our vision of the future as current change leaders.

An Experience to Share

If you were to visit our Facebook group, you would find a string of comments and notes expressing lamentation about missing our 2011 MLS cohort. Those few days together were filled with so much joy and love, it is no wonder we want to revisit them. But on the page you would also see us discussing our plans for growth and multicultural programming across the country. So even though a reunion may be necessary for another late-night round of “Apple to Apples”, it does not mean we cannot find that same amount of love and joy wherever our journeys take us. We have been given the opportunity, dare I say the responsibility, to share our experiences, knowledge, and passion with our respective congregations and communities. We did not leave that inspiring community of beautifully diverse and energetic Unitarian Universalists behind. We brought it home with us, so that we may share with others our immeasurable potential for connection, celebration, and love.

(Photo by D. Askew)

Keep climbing.

Though the mountain is high, 

            keep climbing.

Though the terrain is treacherous,

keep climbing.

Though the journey seems circuitous,

            keep climbing.

Though your energy and faith are waning,

keep climbing.

Though it seems you will never stop climbing,

            keep climbing.

Though you think you are alone and unsupported,

            keep climbing.

At the peak of the mountain is a new connection.

            Keep climbing.

At the peak of the mountain is a beautiful view.

            Keep climbing.

At the peak of the mountain is fresh breath.

            Keep climbing.

At the peak of the mountain is totality.

            Keep climbing.

At the peak of the mountain is love.

            Keep climbing.

At the peak of the mountain is a clear view of your path home.

Ramadan: A Month of Compassion and Connection

I first began fasting when I was in elementary school, around the fourth grade. I was so excited to be considered old enough to participate, to wake up in the morning and have a huge breakfast with my family. The evenings were just as exciting, since my parents always made sure we had something delicious to eat when we broke fast. During the day, I was proud of my ability to keep from eating while all my friends had their tater tots and pizza. It was hard as a child to have the resolve to refrain from eating, and sometimes I couldn’t stand to remain in the cafeteria. But even then, I knew what I was doing was important, although I did not yet know why. I wanted to be a good Muslim, and this practice was necessary for me to achieve that goal. I have a distinct memory of a cupcake party at school, during which I forgot I was fasting and ate some treats. Halfway through, I realized my mistake and ran to the bathroom crying. I thought I had made God mad with my mistake, that I had failed at fasting. I rinsed out my mouth and vowed never to accidently break my fast again. To help make sure I avoided another accidental meal, I developed a new strategy. I wore my headgear to school so that if I was going to eat something, I would have to consciously remove the pink strap, unhook the metal wiring from my teeth. Apparently, I had espoused elements of mindfulness and hadn’t yet realized it. Kids are smart.

As I grew older, I started to harbor dislike for the month of fasting. High school was particularly tough, mainly because they had french fries available for a dollar at lunchtime. I had my doubts about some of the beliefs preached by Islam, and found myself feeling less inclined to follow its required practices. As I began to distance myself from Islam, I also distanced myself from the observation of Ramadan, to the point where I stopped altogether. Why should I go without food if I no longer followed the faith that requires me to do so? It seemed pointless to me, and so I gladly used my newfound "religious freedom" as an excuse to eat during that holy month. For me, the fast was an obligation and a burden, which triggered feelings of annoyance and contempt, and I no longer saw any use to it. During college, I began to feel as though I had lost sense of my identity, and so I tried to reconnect with the Islamic faith. I read the Qur’an, and made a half-hearted attempt to observe Ramadan once more. My motives were unclear, and thus my fast remained a chore, which I only partially completed. I convinced myself that “I’ll stay away from everything except coffee, and that’ll be ok.” I was still missing the point- I was still missing an opportunity.

So now, in my wiser and slightly more mature 25-year-old state, I have come to a realization that is long overdue. I do not need to fast during Ramadan- I want to fast during Ramadan. The sense of obligation that had accompanied my previous fasts had prevented me from seeing the beauty behind the behavior. Ramadan is not about giving up food- it is about gaining love, peace, and compassion. It is about finding connections you may have never before noticed, between yourself, other beings, and the Divine. It is about discovering your strength and power, and how to use them to help those who are experiencing misfortunate and suffering. Ramadan is about recognizing our blessings, celebrating the miracle that is life, and bringing joy to the lives of others. It is not a month to be dreaded or filled with complaints about a gurgling stomach (which I must admit, I’ve said my share). We should look forward to this month as an opportunity to learn, reflect, and connect. Ramadan is a gift- a chance to recognize our inherently compassionate and joyful nature.

Before I continue with this post, I want to include a brief disclaimer. Ramadan is recognized as a holy month because it acknowledges the period when the Qur’an was revealed to the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). It is believed that during this month, the angel Gabriel came down to Earth and revealed the word of God to Muhammad (peace be upon him), words which are now known as the Qur’an. Regardless of whether or not you find this story to hold any truth, the lessons of Ramadan as it is observed today are still universal. What I present to you are my reasons for observing this month, independent of the mythology behind it.

Ramadan: Core Practices

Ramadan is a time to express compassion in all aspects of our lives. It is an opportunity to practice peace and connect to others in new and loving ways. It is a month of reflection, during which we can learn how to respect and embrace the Divine, however we conceptualize it. These values, which are core to the Islamic religion as a whole, can be personally affirmed by observing the many rituals of Ramadan. The ritual of fasting, perhaps the most commonly known one, allows us to connect to those whose needs we may have never before understood. It allows us to connect to ourselves, and focus on aspects of our lives which we have previously neglected. The practice of regular prayer allows us to connect to the Divine, and open our hearts to wisdom, compassion, and love. Many Muslims also use this month as a time to read through the entire Qur’an, a practice which creates an opportunity for reflection and further connection to the Divine. Ramadan is also a time when observers are asked to refrain from arguments and violence, and instead focus their energy on creating meaningful and caring interactions. Whatever our personal beliefs, these rituals can serve as powerful inspiration for pursuing practices that espouse those values we hold close to our hearts.

Compassion for the Hungry

We’ve all heard it before- it is difficult to truly appreciate what you have until it is gone. Many of us take for granted the fact that we have food on our table at every meal, oftentimes more than we can consume in one sitting. Sometimes that food is thrown away, but we think little of it because, “heck, there’s more where that came from.” But that is not the case for everyone. For many others, their food supply is not plentiful- it is not even sufficient. It’s no secret that there is a growing hunger crisis, and that every nation, wealthy or poor, has citizens who have limited or no access to food. There are people all around the world who go days without eating, and the sad truth is that many of them are children. Without an adequate food source, these men, women, and children, our fellow human beings, are forced to consume whatever is made available to them, or else starve to death. Some find enough to keep themselves alive, but it is still not enough to keep them physically or mentally healthy. They can survive, but they remain hungry, malnourished, and uncertain as to the date of their next meal. Their physical state leaves them more susceptible to disease, and the food insecurity they face can wreak havoc on their will to survive. Unfortunately, many others are less fortunate in their search for food, and are unable to find enough to sustain them. It’s easy to forget that thousands of people all over the world die every day as a result of having nothing to eat.

By fasting during the month of Ramadan, we learn to appreciate the plight of our brothers and sisters who have little or no food available to them. By refraining from consuming food or drink while continuing on with our daily lives, we can begin to understand the challenges faced by those whose lives include a daily struggle to feed themselves. The experience of not being able to drink water during the hot summer months, of not being able to eat while witnessing others’ food consumption brings us a small step closer to grasping the reality of the hungry. Each and every time we break our fast at sunset, we should express thanks for the blessing of having an ample food supply. Our basic nutritional needs are easily met, and we do not need to constantly worry about whether or not our family will be fed.  By temporarily placing ourselves in the shoes of the hungry, we begin to realize that any suffering we may encounter during our fast is experienced at least tenfold by those whose starvation is beyond their control. We recognize that while our days of deprivation are voluntary and impermanent, those of the hungry are forced upon them with potentially no end. It is through this understanding that our compassion for the hungry is strengthened, and our desire to end their suffering is kindled. Through fasting, we are able to develop a deeper connection to those people whom we may have never before understood, and begin to realize that any violation of their rights is a violation of our own. Through fasting, we realize that starvation in a world where food is plentiful is an affront to basic human dignity. Through fasting, we learn that something must be done to address this egregious violation of human rights, and can begin to use our power and resources to bring an end to hunger.

Compassion for All Beings

During Ramadan, we are asked to refrain from fighting, both physical and verbal. I don’t know about everyone else, but I personally find the idea of holding my tongue infinitely harder than waiting until sunset to eat. We are passionate beings, with fiery emotions and opinions that we sometimes feel we cannot control. But we are also compassionate beings, with a strong desire to be happy and make others feel good. Think about those moments when you insulted someone you cared about, or got in a physical altercation with someone who disagreed with you. How many of those events were followed by a surge of regret? Yes, there may be an initial feeling of satisfaction in expressing our anger, but in the end, we can recognize that we have done nothing to improve the situation- all we have done is cause more pain. Now think about those moments when you took the time to listen to someone with a different opinion, had an engaging conversation, and calmly came to an understanding. Felt better right? You had a chance to connect with someone, to have an open communication in which all involved parties were able to learn something new. Ramadan presents a wonderful opportunity to reconnect with our compassionate selves, with our desires to communicate, connect, and cooperate. If we spend this month taking the time to react calmly to perceived conflicts, we can develop our ability to listen during all of the other months of the year. By refraining from fighting, we can come to realize how good it feels to be at peace, and how we can use our interactions to bring peace to others.

When we combine our appreciation of peaceful interaction with our stronger connection to the hungry, we can fully embrace the principle of giving to those in need. One of the five pillars of Islam is based in charitable giving, a practice that is given greater value during Ramadan. During this month, we are asked to give to those who are less fortunate, whether it is by donating money to an established organization, providing food to the hungry, or opening our doors to offer temporary shelter to the homeless. However we choose to help those in need, our actions should not be motivated by pity, but rather by love and respect. When we witness others who are suffering, we should want to help them because they are beings who deserve to feel joy. When we show love for others, we can learn from our interactions, understand their stories, and develop greater respect for their experiences. This brings about a stronger sense of connection and helps us understand that when we acknowledge our ability to help bring an end to another’s suffering, we will bring joy to all, not just to a single individual. Think about it- when you give someone something with no expectation of return, how do you feel? Good right? Great even? When we give, both the giver and recipient experience joy, which has the power to influence our interactions with others outside the exchange. When we give, we make the world a happier place, a more peaceful place. Ramadan lets us recognize the power we have to bring this change in our daily interactions, by encouraging us to make these compassionate connections.

Compassion for the Self

Our bodies are always hard at work, whether we are in a deep sleep or participating in a triathlon.  The food and drink we consume throughout the day serve as the fuel our body uses to keep running- the “cleaner” the fuel, the better we operate. Taking this car-and-engine metaphor to the brink of your tolerance, we need to make sure we make choices that will prevent our bodies from stalling. Ramadan gives us an opportunity to adopt practices that help our bodies, and our environment, stay healthy and strong.  Even though we are abstaining from food or drink for most of the day, if we are intentional and aware of our dietary selections, we will not feel as though we are running on empty. By taking this month to integrate mindful consumption practices into our diet, we can become more aware of the food we are consuming, and understand more about where it came from and at what price. We can learn to avoid the temptation to eat as much as we can between sunset and sunrise (it’s not an excuse to eat three slices of cheesecake), and instead focus on consuming only what is good for us and for our world. In observing a healthful fast, we develop an appreciation for the ways in which we are connected to the Earth, and adopt mindful practices that we learn to maintain throughout the whole year.

Upon breaking fast, we are given an opportunity to make a conscious selection regarding what we consume. Whatever we choose to eat, that is the first food our body has had for hours, and will set the stage for our body’s revitalization. Traditionally, the fast is broken with a date. For many in the Middle East, the date is an easily obtainable food, and is ubiquitous in Arabic culture. It is a highly nutritious selection, which provides a healthy boost for bodies that have been denied edible nourishment. So how is the practice of breaking fast with a date an example of mindful consumption? The selection of dates is a healthy way to start our meal- both physically and environmentally. Being rich in simple sugars and fiber, dates are a powerful source of caloric energy that quickly get our engine running at full capacity once more. And because dates are a naturally occurring staple in the region, consuming them is quite the green practice, presenting little to no strain on the Earth. It is a conscious selection that connects us to our planet’s natural patterns and rhythms, and allows for an efficient and undisruptive use of surrounding resources. Such a healthy start, for both ourselves and the environment, can be a cue to motivate us as we continue to make conscious selections for the rest of what we eat. Of course, dates are not as easy to obtain in other parts of the world, but conceptually they can provide us with the inspiration to make food selections that are personally beneficial and universally sustainable.

Our minds and spirits need some compassion too, and Ramadan gives us an opportunity to make sure they get it. By shifting us away from practices focused on food and fighting, and encouraging rituals that help us to reflect and connect, Ramadan allows us to learn about ourselves and what is truly important to us. During this month, we can take time to pause and get in touch with the values that we hold dear, and evaluate how we currently, or perhaps could better, live them out. It is not meant to be a period of self-judging, but of self-recognition, when we contemplate the question “What do I really care about?” When we come to a clearer understanding of what it is we stand for, we become more capable of expressing genuine love and compassion, for both ourselves and others. When we can recognize the values we most cherish, we can adopt practices and pursue activities that enable us to live them out, and nourish our spirit. By connecting to our selves, we learn to identify those behaviors and thoughts that bring us suffering, and can find ways to counter or remove them. Ramadan presents us with a chance to distance ourselves from superficial concerns, and become more aware of our deeper spiritual interests.

Connection with the Divine

I would be remiss if I did not speak to the ritual of reading the Qur’an during the month of Ramadan. In reading this holy book, many feel a greater sense of connection to the Divine, and reach new heights of understanding in their faith. In reading the Qur’an with a true desire to learn, observers can recognize how their lives are regularly touched by Divine love and compassion. Understood to be the word of God, the Qur’an allows practicing Muslims to have a direct understanding of what is good and holy in the world. This understanding is deepened by the emphasis on regular prayer that occurs during Ramadan, which provides a means of communicating with the Divine, and feeling comforted by its influence. By taking just a few minutes every day to focus solely on reaching out to the Divine, Muslims are able to recognize its blessings, and universal presence within all existence.

We do not have to be follow the Islamic faith to achieve this same sense of connection to the Divine. The beauty of the Divine is that it can be found in every particle of existence, and that we can connect to it in the manner that best fits our own personal values. We can read holy texts, we can sit in quiet meditation, or we can participate in a ritual dance. There is no single correct way to connect with the Divine- it is both within and all around us. Ramadan encourages us to reach out to and embrace the greater force that is behind existence, whether we view it as a deity, pure energy, or another unknown beautiful mystery. By connecting to the Divine and understanding its elementary peaceful nature, we can reach a state of pure contentment. By connecting with the Divine, we can better recognize the beauty that is life, and live up to our potential as loving and compassionate beings.

Short Reflection

Following the horrible tragedy that occurred in Norway on Friday, I began to wonder "what went wrong?" How could someone be so filled with hate, that they believed the murder of dozens of children was justified? What happened to make someone believe that they had no other option, that the taking of innocent lives was the only way to make things right?

I was talking to someone about these thoughts, and it was offered that there are people in the world we cannot help. That there are monsters out there that no amount of love and compassion can repair, that they are born "wired for hate." The thought of this being even remotely true brought tears to my eyes and filled me with despair. For me, the beauty of being human is that we are able to connect with each other through love, so that we can grow into a community that cares for the welfare of all. I agree that there are some who may be born with a predisposition to anger, whose "wiring" makes them more likely to want to divide and distinguish groups so that some are superior to others. But this wiring, this nature element of who we are is only part of the picture. So much of who we are, of who we become, and of who we strive to be, is shaped by those around us, by our connections to others. The nurture element of our development.

Many psychologists agree that the most important nurturing moments are those that occur in our infancy and childhood. If we are surrounded by love and caring early on in our lives, we are more likely to exhibit love and care in our future activities as adults. If we are ignored and are unable to form trustworthy bonds when we are young, we are perhaps more likely to hate as adults. But while these early interactions are important in shaping how we carry on in the future, there is still an opportunity to alter their effects. People change, people want to change. We want to become the best version of ourselves, and through love and compassion those who surround us can help to achieve that vision.

The shooter in these attacks may have had some wiring problems. He was filled with hate, and he had beliefs and fears that led him to engage in monstrous activity. But why? Was there an opportunity for people to step in and reinforce those wires that encouraged love for other beings? Was there an opportunity to weaken the connections that made him quick to anger, quick to hate, quick to kill? These questions will likely be plastered all over the media in the next few days. Speculation will occur regarding his views on the world, politics, religion, etc. and what groups or activities influenced him. There will be people who will put blame on groups and individuals for what they did to contribute to his belief system and behaviors. But we should also consider what we did not do. When did we stop showing him love?

"Monsters" exist in the world. But I refuse to believe that they could not have been prevented. And I refuse to believe that they cannot be changed to become loving humans once more. We cannot resign ourselves to giving up on people who may need more love to show love. If we genuinely care about one another, we should see such people as more deserving of our compassion. Nobody is born with a desire to hate, to murder. Those who demonstrate an early penchant for such motivations are not at fault, but instead are suffering. Something has happened to them, perhaps something that was beyond their control, and we have a responsibility to recognize and rectify that. We cannot be so quick to give up on each other, no matter how easy of an answer that provides.

Untitled

I have a couple of posts in the making, but they need some vetting. In the meanwhile, some poetry. I composed towards the end of high school and have come back to it from time to time to revise it as I grow.

Two old women walk along a sandy beach
Decked in glorious finery that sparkles like the ocean.
Laughing, they speak of the past they have shared
Filled with lovers and friends and dreams.

But though they laugh out loud, one silently cries.
Her tears reflect the painful glittering memories
As though they were stars on a clear night,
Infinite in number, but each one forever distinct.

The tide washes over their feet in a constant rhythm,
Burying their painted toes in the cool, white sand.
The moment is sealed by each woman's personal ecstasy,
At experiencing a glorious blend of land and water.

But harmony does not exist in the thoughts of both women,
As the inner tears of the one liquefy and are born into reality.
The salty memory rolls down her weathered brown cheek
To join its brothers on the earthly mother ship at her feet.

Yet her tears go unnoticed by her content companion
Who remains a smiling figure in the midst of her memories.
How could she know of a past that is not her own
Filled with immeasurable sorrow and grief.

The tears fall harder and grow more numerous
Their attempts to cool the flushed old cheeks are in vain.
Anger builds within their source as she continues to break
Noting how her pain is again unseen by those she loves.

Betrayal once again shows its unforgivable self
And whispers secrets in her ear in its mocking tone.
She shakes her head, hoping to ward off unwanted thoughts,
Trying to force her purposeless mourning into permanent hiding.

A sudden urge to run into the oncoming waves surfaces
As an unfamiliar emotion takes a firm hold.
"What good is it, living in the past," it tells her
“When the present gives reason for rejoicing?”

The words ring through her mind like a chapel bell
Echoing for miles into her distant memories.
Grabbing her companion's hand, she runs toward the dusk 

Her content laughter glittering among the infinite stars.

Cause for Celebration

I had made the decision not to post anything in response to the celebratory reactions that occurred across the country when Osama Bin Laden was killed. Part of that decision was motivated by fear- I know many who would not react kindly to my saying I was saddened by the cheers that followed the news. Another motivator was guilt- there is definitely a part of me that is relieved that such an evil being is no longer a part of this world. Yet another reason not to post anything was respect- others have been able to say precisely what I am thinking and feeling in much more eloquent language than I could ever use, and I think their voices should be recognized. For a prime example, see http://www.huffingtonpost.com/pamela-gerloff/the-psychology-of-revenge_b_856184.html?ref=fb&src=sp. But after hearing that people were posting pictures of his body on Facebook, I could not keep my mouth shut any longer. My apologies if I sound redundant, but the simple turth is that this message is worth repeating. This so-called “celebration” is not something in which we should engage- it is beneath our capability to love, it is offensive to human dignity, and it demeans anything that is actually worth celebrating.

Nobody is denying that Bin Laden was an evil man. He was the leader of an organization that killed thousands of people, out of a claim that he was doing it for God. He shattered so many lives, he created an atmosphere of fear and hatred, and he felt no remorse for his actions. He turned a peaceful religion into a weapon, and used it as his justification for murder. He spread a message of hate and refused to compromise on his twisted ideals. He was evil.

But he was human.

I cannot honestly say that I did not want him dead. Hatred is a powerful force, and revenge is a tempting path. I wanted him to pay for the immeasurable suffering that he had caused in the past, and any pain that he continued to bring and threaten. Like everyone else, I wanted justice. I wanted him to feel every ounce of the pain he had brought into the world with his hate. Like many others, a part of me wanted revenge. A part of me wanted him dead.

When the news broke that US forces had killed Osama Bin Laden, I reacted the same way many others did- I was in a state of shock. I had gotten so used to his being “unfindable,” that I had since lost any expectation that we would ever bring him to justice. But once the shock subsided, I started to wonder “What next? How does this change anything?” Sure, he was a public figure, an indisputable icon for the concepts of hatred and murder. But did his death really change anything? Aren’t we still at war? Aren’t there still soldiers and civilians dying every day? Did us killing a killer really make the world a more beautiful place?

It is absolutely true that his death may have brought closure to many who had lost loved ones in the attacks on September 11^th. They know he is gone; they know he cannot order anymore killing, that he cannot cause any new pain. And closure is something that we can celebrate. Closure is something to smile about, something to cheer about. Those of us who may not have lost loved ones in the attacks but were hurt in other ways can also find some closure. There is one less person spreading a pervasive message of hate, one less person dampening our hopes for a peaceful world. We SHOULD celebrate a reduction of hatred. But we should not celebrate the taking of a human life, no matter how evil it might be.

Cheering at death is not the way we encourage change, it is not a method for bringing about peace. Must we mourn the end of this evil life? No. But we must recognize that this evil was stopped using the very same tools this evil had used. And by reacting to Bin Laden’s death in the same way that he reacted to the deaths of those who were killed on his orders, we continue down the same hatred-inducing path. By celebrating our own act of killing, we destroy any opportunity for us to become leaders in love. Instead of showing regret for taking a human life we are taking pride in the fact that we are killers. By celebrating his death, we show ourselves to be a vengeful nation, not one of compassion and understanding.

The celebration does not need to end. But its basis needs to be changed. We should never celebrate the taking of human life. We should strive for peaceful solutions, for opportunities to show compassion. We have that capability, and we need to use our incredible power to spread a message of love, not hate. So if we want to cheer, let us cheer. But not for death. To borrow from the above-linked blog:

‎"One aspect of being human is our ability to choose our own behavior; more specifically, our capacity to return good for evil, love for hate, dignity for indignity."

Under Construction

I'm currently working on something that I am tentatively calling the "Love Scale" (title also in the works). It's a theory or framework of how intolerance can evolve into celebration, inspired by my own experiences and events in the world. Right now, it has five key phases-

1. Informed intolerance (where we know the facts, we know the pain our hate causes, but we still choose to hate; we believe the difference will hurt us)
2. Uninformed intolerance (where we don't know the facts, but because something is so different, we choose to hate it out of fear and misunderstanding; we fear the difference will hurt us)
3. Tolerance (we gain exposure to some of the truths, understand that maybe what is different isn't necessarily bad; we are still uncomfortable but we don't take active steps to attack it; however, we don't take active steps to defend it either; we just "let it be").
4. Acceptance (we not only allow something to be, but we come to an understanding that this different thing does not hurt us, and it does not hurt anyone else. We no longer react with hesitation, and are even willing to support those who are different)
5. Celebration (we love the differences we see; we realize different does not mean unequal; we seek to learn more about the diversity among us; we defend everyone).

This is still a work in progress; in fact, it's just an idea that has been floating in my head, which I have had little time to develop. I hope to do an analysis of historical movements and see whether there is any legitimacy to this "scale," or if it's just the result of sleep-deprived reflections. Thoughts and suggestions are welcome.

Welcome

While most of what I put here will be in my own words, the inaugural post comes from an inspiring creative mind:

I am a kind word uttered and repeated

By the voice of Nature;

I am a star fallen from the

Blue tent upon the green carpet.

I am the daughter of the elements

With whom Winter conceived;

To whom Spring gave birth; I was

Reared in the lap of Summer and I

Slept in the bed of Autumn.

At dawn I unite with the breeze

To announce the coming of light;

At eventide I join the birds

In bidding the light farewell.

The plains are decorated with

My beautiful colours, and the air

Is scented with my fragrance.

As I embrace Slumber the eyes of

Night watch over me, and as I

Awaken I stare at the sun, which is

The only eye of the day.

I drink dew for wine, and hearken to

The voices of the birds and dance

To the rhythmic swaying of the grass.

I am the lover's gift; I am the wedding wreath;

I am the memory of a moment of happiness;

I am the last gift of the living to the dead;

I am a part of joy and a part of sorrow.

But I look up high to see only the light,

And never look down to see my shadow.

This is the wisdom which man must learn.

~Kahlil Gibran, "Song of the Flower"