interlude, islam

2010.

This entry right here made me really, insanely happy tonight.

Vitality shows in not only the ability to persist, but in the ability to start over. –F. Scott Fitzgerald

I took this picture earlier this year in a little coffee shop in Maryland. I feel it’s rather fitting for the new year. 2010. I can’t believe it. It’s almost here. (For us in the ‘States, anyway.)

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islam

The Leader Adjusts the Sails.

I was reading an article about the Gaza Freedom March, which everyone should know about, and I stumbled across this quote on the right hand side of the photo.

So that’s where it came from. I prefer the version I’ve been hearing lately:

The pessimist complains about the wind. The optimist expects it to change. The leader adjusts the sails.

islam

The Importance of Preparation.

I just realized yesterday that I can never leave anything to chance and hope it works out. I lead a review session last night thinking juuuust that. I focused way too much on the bells and whistles and not enough on the sheer content of what I was going to say.

Sometimes pen and paper are the best. Oldies, but goodies. Write down exactly what I need to say and then SAYETH, dude.

interlude

MuslimahSource ShoutOut! Also, s'mores.

The Habits of My Hijabs @ MuslimahSource

Just got back from my uncle’s house from two of my cousin’s saalgira. Everyone is just shooting up before my eyes like gangly, GuitarHero-playing weeds! The boys made a toasty fire, and we all roasted marshmallows (halaal!) and made s’mores by the lake while singing half-remembered campfire songs. I smell like woodsmoke and nostalgia. It finally feels like winter. Inside, we sat and talked and laughed. I dropped and broke a plate on accident. Chaos insued, starting with, “Who’s throwing plates?” I didn’t hear the end of it for a good 10 minutes. 😛

Haleem, chicken biryani, s’mores; crotchety, cantankerous, loveable relatives…that’s what I’m talking about. Alhamdulillah for family.

islam, muslim women fitness

Being Nice is Okay.

Salaams. I was reading through my notes from our Seerah class, and I came across the story of Umm Salamah (RA) and Uthman ibn Talha [Abu Talha] (RA).  Umm Salamah (RA) had been separated from her husband and child during the time of the hijrah. Her husband had been forced to go to Medina without her, and her son was taken away from her by her non-Muslim family. She was distraught for a very, very long time. One of her relatives finally convinced her family to let her go, as well as reuniting her with her son. She was about to set off for Medina by herself, when Uthman ibn Talha (RA) met her in the outskirts of Makkah.

When he found out she was going to Medina, he accompanied her for the ENTIRE journey, to make sure she would be okay. After that, Umm Salamah (RA) would say she had never seen a kinder man than Uthman ibn Talha (RA)!

There is more to the story, but later on as I was reading and arrived at the part where Umm Salamah’s (RA) husband passed away, I remember thinking, “Enter Abu Talha (RA)!”

Of course, the story didn’t end that way, it ended with Umm Salamah’s (RA) marriage to Rasulullah (SAW)!

I took away two lessons from this story.

1) Bros…it’s okay to be nice to us. It doesn’t mean a marriage proposal. (Also, smile! It’s sunnah. Don’t ignore us one second just because we’re sisters, and then let us see you give a smile to that non-Muslim classmate because she “doesn’t count.”  It counts.)

This also applies to us sisters as well. I swear, we all be giving each other complexes up in here.

2) Sometimes, a nice guy is just a nice guy. Sometimes, a nice girl is just a nice girl. How many of us are holding out for our Abu Talha’s and Umm Salamah’s, fingers scrabbling disconsolately in the soil of At – Tan’im, when we should dust ourselves off, and open our eyes to something better just over the horizon instead?

interlude

Sho. Shick.

Salaams, I am back from the beach, and I guess this is what I get for calling snowbirds lozers and touting 72 degree holiday weather because I. Am. So. Sick. Alhamdulillah. I got plenty of sins to burn off so I don’t mind. I’m just really really sad The Sister made cookies and didn’t leave any for me. What’s that about. My mom gave me some anti-biotics so I’m a little loopy right now.

This just in: That ticking sound wasn’t my imagination, that was the toaster oven in which THERE ARE COOKIES. COOKIES MADE OF WIN.

Last night we stayed at the beach, and this morning after Fajr we went to the beach to see the sunrise. It was so beautiful, subhanAllah.  My calves feel like hot pokers are sticking into ’em from running and frolicking like a little kid.

There was fog on the beach this morning, and it looked like a completely different world.

Found a tiny, tiny seahorse. The Sister saw it’s tail squirming in the mud and said, “Ew, a worm!” When we got closer I saw the rest of the body and squealed like I was 5, “Look, a seahorse!

I decided to “free” it, so I scooped it up and walked toward the waves. “Be free, little one, be fr–AUHHHHHH!” Suddenly this wave crashed against me outta nowhere and soaked me up to my knees. Hope the seahorse made it out okay, heh.

This just in: Technically difficulties w/ cookies. The Sister is tinkering. “She’s just fooling around in that little toaster,” says my mom.

Yesterday I prayed Asr on the beach. Made wudhu with water from the ocean, thanks to The Sister braving the waves and bringing it in a bottle. Being Muslim is so freakin’ awesome.