American Muslima Writer -Daring to Work Towards Jannah

AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Scream of Fear or Happiness, could be both.

I realized National Novel Writing Month 2010 will begin in a few weeks!!!!

I SAID....

YES!

In an age where Muslims have to keep their heads down and their political views under wraps sometimes we read news pieces that just make up pick up our heads a little bit and find a way to talk more about things that interest us.

I am writing a novel featuring UAE-Iranian Political matters, a work of Fiction, yet based on my observations of real life. I closely follow the Politics of the region and have my personal speculations about how things will turn with certain rising powers. But I try to keep all that off blogland for the safety of my family.

Just saw news on Gulf News about a man who was lynch mobed in a rural village of Lebanon. The Mob of angry Villagers managed to get him from police custody (two officers) and then took Justice into their own hands.  They murdered him and then stripped him down to his underwear and dragged him through the streets and then people stepped all over the body then it was displayed on a car driven slowly through town as more villages assembled. Finally they used a Butcher's Meat hook through the throat to hang him on a telephone pole for all to see.  The Lebanese Army had to be brought in to move out the crowd and retrieve the body.

On my way to blogging about my latest and greatest event in my life I ran across another Blogger's touching post. A post on Letting Go. I found it touching and meaningful and words that rang with truth.

Check it out here: Changing My World ~ Random Muslima, Letting Go

Part of putting your priorities in order is being able to let go of things that in the end are not as important. Sometimes people put something like dusting above doorways above the importance of keeping a marriage together. Sometimes people put money before the value of a human life. Sometimes people put going to a club or not wanting to mess up their make-up before Prayer to Allah. Sometimes we think dropping a plate and it breaking is a catastrophe equal to the Catastrophe of Haiti. Perhaps even the simple act of air leaving the lips in the form of a word like TALAQ is equal to a life with no purpose or meaning.

Mid-afternoon my phone rings and I see my friend's name pop up and look forward to a plesent convo about our lives when her words chill me to the bone.

"My kids were nearly kidnapped just now, at Al-Ain Mall."

She was upstairs (those that know AL-Ain and the mall here can easily visualize this) in Mega Mart the local Mega Grocery Store.  At the front there is a large TV display set up to attract kids into dragging their parents in to see the cartoons they always put there.  Those parents then start wandering the electronics of washing machines, TVs, DVDs, Stove, Fridges, etc...
So my friend's 3 kids pause to watch the cartoon and their mother casually browses the washing machines near-by still within sight distance.  After a short while she notices this man glancing furtivly at her kids and then the escalator (leading to the mall exit).  He continued to mill at the entrance of Mega Mart near her kids.  My friend said her Mommy Radar went off and she rushed over to her kids and the man saw her and ran oof towards the escalator.  She pursued him but he was very fast.  Shaken she took her kids home and called me up.

"It can happen in a split second.  Keep your kids right next to you and never out of your sight."
She warned me and I totally agreed. Later she called security at the Mall and they caught the whole thing on video and freeze-framed the man's face so his picture is now in all Security stations in the Mall.  Insha'Allah he wont be able to strike again.

I often go to Al-Ain Mall since it is 10-15 minutes walking distance from my house to just window shop and get my kids to let off steam.  I make sure they are not only in sight distance but grabbing distance, meaning if I need to get to them I can make a short fast run and be by their side to help them in an instant.  I know the evils of pedophiles and their tactics.  My goal in my children's life is to ensure they never get harmed by one.  My kids are obvious tragets with their curly blonde hair and blue eyes which are highly desired in these Arab countries.  But these pedophiles will attack any child that is grabable.  Do you know how mnay times I've been harassed by security asking if these are my children because some children with their descriptions have been lost or have dissapeared.  It gives me chills.

  Let us not forget what happened to poor Musa, a 5 year old boy who was brutally raped and murdered by an Emirati man IN E'ID MUSALLAH!!!  I was sick all day I heard about that.  May Allah help his family recover.

I have heard true account stories from people who will remain unnaimed, about local Emirati children getting raped repeatedly and harmed repeatedly by drivers and maids who want to get even or to antagonize their Employer.  NEVER EVER LEAVE YOUR CHILD WITH ANYONE YOU DO NOT TRUST WITH THEIR LIFE.

  Sad to say that even family members can harm your child.  Everyone knows stories of "Uncle Georgie" getting fresh with his niece. "Grandpa Joe" having a little snuggle under a blanket etc.....
absolutly sickening.  SO be vary careful who you let spend time alone with your child.

You think the Catholic Priests molesting young boys is sick and think "well they are Catholic, we are Muslim it wont happen to my boy off learning his Qur'an every morning at the Sheikh's house."
WRONG!
I know factual happeneings of exactly that happeneing.  It has been covered up over and over again of Sheikh's (meaning scholorly and knowledgable not just royalty) molesting or raping the boys they teach Qur'an to.  Go with your child to their class.  If you can not manage this then at least LEARN TO TALK WITH YOUR CHILDREN about these kind of dangers!!!!  Let them be prepared! Tell them what to do if there is an emergency.

But first and formost Parents BE AWARE AT ALL TIMES.
May Allah have Mercy on You and Your Children

So the other night on Jan 1st we were coming out of the Bawadi Mall in southern AL-Ain and I'm walking happily holding my daughter's hand as we wander our way to the back parking lot. My husband is holding our son and walking ahead of us a little bit. It's about Midnight and  my daughter suddenly looks up at the sky and says "Why is the moon moving?" I opened my mouth to launch into a scientific explination of how it's not the moon moving, it's the clouds in front of it; when I too glanced up.  Before my very eyes the full moon appeared to literally be running through the sky.  Startled, I sttod still in shock and stared at it as if it would suddenly come to a halt but it didn't. It continued racing across the sky and for a panicked moment I seriously though the World is ENDING!
"Honey look at the moon!!" I cried with fear in my voice.
He glanced up and scoffed, "It's just the clouds moving!"
Perplexed and still quite frightened that the world might indeed be ending and I had prayers to make up I looked at the sky more closely. I stared hard at the clouds instead of the moon and indeed the moon stayed still finally and the clouds instead went racing across the dark sky.  Breathing easier yet still shaken we continued to the car.
After getting inside and settling in Hubby admitted for half a split second he too thought the moon was moving and to cover his fear he had to scoff to relieve not only himself but my fears as well.  Naturally he was right lol.
But imagine if the WORLD WAAAS ENDING!?!?!?!  We would have TOTALLY been unprepared!!!  This is why everyone must always remember that death can come at any moment ans we should be prepared because once death comes to us that IS the end of our viewing this world.  SubhanAllah.

I am out of my mind with depression and misery and anxiety, waiting for that next hit. Trying to hold it off as long as possible. Yearning for that mad rush every time I take a bit. "I'm not a heavy user" I claim, yet there I go sneaking hits here and there. Sometimes I've gone a few days to a week without it... was I miserable? You betcha. Does my family realize the extent I go to get my drugs? Not at all. I hide it in different forms. I sneak it into the house under false pretenses. Sometime I even get my rush outside the house. Taking the kids out somewhere and I know they wont notice my purchase. They love their mother's sudden rush of energy and excitement.

I am addicted to Sugar. I have a sugar sensitivity to where my body craves it as deeply as any narcotic drug. If I don't get it I have wretched withdrawal symptoms. When I get a hit, I get a sugar high Ecstasy users would dream of. And I found out recently just how much it is ruining my life. Every time I get a bit of sugar my body becomes accustomed to the effects requiring me to need more and more over time until now it's come to the point large doses don't affect me and I have to seek out more high sugar content. A spoonful of pure Brown Sugar, or Honey, or sneaking in a juicy oozy Extra Large Kit Kat Bar with dribbly caramel. I save the KitKat for days when I'm super low. Or when I've saved up enough for my habit a large Iced Coffee with Mint Chocolate flavor with whip cream and caramel on top with a rich super chocolate cake. Arg, I'm drooling on my keyboard now and wishing I had the money to pop up to the Mall...

But there is hope for me and for you too if you are sugar sensitive and call yourself a "Sugar Addict" or "Chocoholic". My friend lent me the book "Potatoes NOT Prozac" and BOY OH BOY! did it open my eyes! This is one book recently I've been reading to battle my depression and to help overcome my mental meltdown I had a few weeks back. We'll discuss the other books I read and things I implemented later lets get back to the Potaters. So I reluctantly and dutifully copied all the info I'd need from the book into my own Food Journal. I've been lazy as all get out to do it properly everyday. But slowly I'm trying to ease the sugars down and be more aware of my body's responses to it. It has been helping.

Along with the other books I've been reading I feel more peaceful and better about life now alhamdulillah. Things are definitely turning around and all is not lost or hopeless. I appreciate your comments and concerns in the last post, it really helped me to know there are so many caring poeple out there.

Long ago before I was Muslim I used to dabble a bit in Witchcraft with some of my friends.

My family and I moved in with my grandfather and I temporarily got to have the library as my room. There was nothing better than waking to a room stuffed with books everyday. But I had a lot of nightmares and scary feelings always in that room. Sometimes I'd wake up screaming. A few times I'd wake trying to scream but nothing would come out. Those were the worst.

Finally I was moved down the hall to the former office room (which used to belong to my Aunt when she was younger). It felt very peaceful and wonderful. I painted it a beautiful color of blue called Blue Flame with African Jewel Lavender trims. Pure relaxation. But when I'd walk down the long hall towards the green bathroom at the end, I'd have to pass the Library. A sudden dread out of nowhere would fill me and my hair would raise off my skin and I would get so scared and creeped out. If other people were around this wouldn't happen. If someone was sitting in there reading or something I never felt it. Only when it was empty.

Many nights I refused to go to the bathroom so I wouldn't have to pass that room. If the door was closed I didn't feel it, only when it was open and my family had a habit of leaving it open a crack at night.

When I badly had to go I'd creep slowly down the hall and glide along the wall furthest from the door until I could see if it was closed or not. Many nights that inky black crack glared out at me filling me with unknown dread. I do have an active imagination but this was different, I wasn't trying to imagine anything. I was purposely trying to clear my mind to enhance reality but it wouldn't help. There was something evil in that room.

I'd take a few breaths to steel myself then reach my hand closer and closer to the doorknob to pull it shut. Every inch seemed to be wanting me to be sucked back into that land of nightmares. Finally I'd manage to touch the cool knob and firmly shut it. But I could still feel it seething behind the door. I would quickly go to the bathroom then rush back to my peaceful room to sleep.

Eventually my Maternal Grandmother's health was deteriorating and it was decided she would move into my Paternal Grandfather's house with us. They emptied the floor of the Library to prepare for her to move in. I was horrified. I went to my favorite Wiccan (witchcraft) sites and was madly browsing how to rid the room of evil spirits. Finding the perfect solution I rummaged my room for the previous Halloween's 2 black tapered candles as the spell required. I knew they would come in handy when I bought them on a whim.

My family had gone out shopping to get her furniture then to pick her up. I entered the Library filled with sunlight but still felt the gloom of evil hanging around. I did not want that thing to effect my grandmother's health and give her nightmares too. I placed the two candles on both sides of the room and then lit them. I recited the opening spell and began to speak directly to the unwanted spirit.

I informed it as the spell required that it was no longer allowed to live here and had permission to leave and was banned from returning. (The spell said it more eloquently but I've forgotten the words now --alhamdulillah--). Then i finished the incantations and brought the lit candles together in the center of the room and on the last word of the spell blew them out together. I used my Gift for Feeling to test the room. It had gone. The spell had said either the spirit would leave the house through the walls out into the world to find another home or it would have been sucked into the candles and would remain therein until they were lit again. I felt the far wall and didn't feel anything odd. I picked up the candles and they seemed heavier than before. I felt a shudder holding them. I threw them on a shelf out of sight.

But it had seemed to work, the room felt happy and clear again. When my family returned and set up the room for my grandmother I was satisfied her health would not be effected by the room ever again.

The next day I took the candles to school in my backpack and showed them to my friends and explained SHORTLY what I had done. Jen (over at A Day in the Life of a Struggling Artist) said she'd take them. I warned her though never to lite them. Years later she said she did so I don't know what happened with that. Perhaps she can finish the tale for us here in comments...

Now I'm Muslim it's hard to know what to think about that. Was it a bad Jinn? Had it really left through the magic I had used? We Muslims do believe Magic exists but we are forbidden from using it and dealing with those who do as All Power comes from Allah. Many times after this I tried at night to go past the library and use my Gift of Feeling to test it but nothing ever felt bad again. I even tried imagining it but it didn't work.

Later when I met my Muslim Roommate and we were about to move into a new apartment she said she had learned we read certain ayahs from the Qur'an to protect the home from Jinn. We had her ex-husband come over and read the proper verses since we both weren't well versed in Qur'an. Also when I Feel something odd I always recite Qur'an now. If I wake from a bad dream I do the same. Oddly enough sometimes in my dreams I'm battling evil forces by loudly reciting qur'an and they are always shrinking back from the power of it and I wake feeling invigorated.

*UPDATE* -Jen finished the story of the Black Candles in the comments so check it out!!!

Have you ever experienced something like this? Let us know either through comments or link me on your blog.

Have you ever wished time did not exist?

Have you ever felt there were just not enough hours in the day?

Me too. I think I'm in the middle of a quarter-century life crisis. My previous "Bad Mother Award" Post was just the tip of the iceberg. There is sooo much more. And it all has to do with time.


I've heard about some people having mental breakdowns. I'm not sure what that entails but I sure do feel I've had one everyday this week. I feel I have 50 million projects on my head and they all need to be done simultaneously and thus they all get half-done. Everything in my life only gets half my attention. I have no more time to give it except for that. Thus my mental breakdowns. I'm sick of everything being halves and not wholes. I just can't handle it anymore.

The problem starts with what I perceive to be an, immodestly put, Brilliant Idea. I MUST do this Brilliant Idea NOW! Thus I push everything else back to the waiting shelf while I tinker on it. But that darn shelf is sooo overloaded already with shelved things and people that things start popping off and bonking me on the head forcing me to deal with them and interrupting my present tinkering. Well today as I threw cooking stuffed tomatoes and bell peppers onto the shelf while taking down the vacuum cleaner, because Hubby popped off the shelf bonking me on the head to remind me to do it, the whole freaking shelf gave a mighty groan and broke to smithereens. And let me tell you, the crap that came rolling off that shelf was not a pretty picture. Now I am chin-high in all the ideas I've ever had for my life and no where to put them.

Are you with me now on the level of my mental breakdown?
I spent the day lolling around not knowing what to do with myself. Every time I looked around at the pile I'd pick up something interesting and turn it around in the gleam of my eye but then with everything piled around it it no longer seemed to hold it's appeal. My kids of course having their own labeled stairs and slide up and down that shelf could tell it was broken and were happy to run amok no longer having to be told to wait a moment while Mommy does this or that. So they ran amok throwing my shelved items hither and thither. My friend here in Al-Ain called in the middle of this shelf collapse. Wanted to know if I wanted to meet her at al-Ain Mall. I looked around at my invisible mess, my physical mess the kids made, and the fact that it would take us a half an hour to get there and told her the truth about the time. She said by that time she would have left the mall so there was no point to bother for now. *sigh* ahh...alhamdulillah said my mind as I hung up. It would have been awkward anyways with me so messed up mentally to make good conversation. I don't think I would have withstood the pressure of acting normal. I would have broke down crying in the middle of BabyShop's Super Sale bemoaning my broken shelf for all and sundry to hear. Yeah soooo glad I was able to keep it in the house.
I messaged my husband a few times about the state of my mind: not good. In the evening he finally called me and offered to take us out for dinner since it was an emergency day.

Mentally for me this was like I just went shopping for new shelf supplies, stronger brackets, bigger screws, a power drill, a slab of steel for the shelf instead of wood. I now had the tools.

So Hubby surprised me with taking us to Pizza Hut. Better yet was when my son fell asleep for the entire meal! Those of you with kids, yes I hear your hisses of envy. Daughter contented herself with discovering the joys of the Parmesan Cheese shaker and trying to copy her father's eating habits. Which left Hubby and I to start building my shelf. Deciding what should go back on the shelf and what should be tossed in the trash, what needed to be organized into boxes and put to sit, and which priorities should be on the actual to-do list. I guess it was almost like a Spring Cleaning of my life.

I have to focus first and foremost on Islam. Because first I am a Muslim, plain and simple.

Next I am myself. I have to take care of myself as in clothes, showers, grooming, weight, etc...

Third and Fourth tie as I am a Wife and Mother. I have to do what wifely things need to be done like the ever difficult for me cleaning and cooking etc... and for the children the Homeschooling and playing and giving love etc...

Now Fifth and so on are where it became hard to make decisions and I felt like that power drill just wasn't gonna be able to fix my shelf after all.
Who am I?
What am I?
A writer?
A designer?
A landscaper?
A blogger?
A business CEO?
An Artist?
Which ones goes to #5?
WHICH ONE!?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!
AAARRRGGGGGGGG!!!!!!
The choices!

I talked about each subject with my Husband and even asked my daughter's input. I got a few leads but will have to continue this on another post....

For now I will just say the shelf is THERE again, waiting......

I had a strange and unusual encounter tonight.
I wrote in depth here: BODY IN ALLEY.

SubhanAllah.

Think hard:
"Hypothetical Question":

There is a new law in all first world and second world countries stating you can only have one child. In the next 72 hours armed government officials will be coming to everyone's house and taking all but one of your children. Unless they were born as twins. Which must be documented.

Do you choose to be a law abiding citizen and give up your children? If so how do you choose which one to keep?

Do you choose to run from the law and take your children and family away where no government officials will find you? If so where will you go and how will you keep the gov from finding you?

Don't make fun of anyone who chooses something different that what you'd pick ok. This is open to all points of view. Let's hear them....

Those who have experienced Depression fully know the fog that envelopes the mind that lets nothing through with clarity and happiness. Everything is hazy. Not necessarily like you can't physically see but you can't mentally grasp what you see as well. You know it's a tree but you just don't care to look at it closely cause it's so darn far away and blurry. Other thing besides depression can color the way you see things.

Religion is one: This is my personal experience so feel free to disagree nicely but I'm just sharing. When I was first Christian I did see clearly but there were so many questions and problems I had where things didn't add up that I felt like my lens was cracked. Sure I could look at things clearly if I craned my head this way and that and ignored the cracks. But I'm a big picture person, the cracks were always there. I needed a new lens.

I fitted on the lens of Islam, the religion of Peace and Unity. And found the clarity refreshing. You can see the whole and the small and all the colors. It feels "just right". No more cracks, No more fog.

Strange emotions can easily cause you to think perhaps Islam is not clarity when in reality it is Satan (Shaytan) playing tricks with your color schemes -your emotions. Sometimes you feel sad yet not depressed and everything appears blue. When you work on over coming it by relaxing, problem solving, and renewing your faith in Allah.

Though after your breakthrough you may think the world all rosy again and unable to take off your rosy lens but you must live in moderation. The sky IS blue not pink. Revel in your ability to see a clear blue sky for what it actually is. Without fog, cracks, and multi-colored hues.

Sisters with our pretend halos on our heads. We are not Angels though. We try and try to be oh so good but we all have our faults. Yet you would never know it looking over the blog world. Our blogs seem to be divided in two. Those who aren't afraid to tell their failings and those who are. Those who aren't tend to go after the tough questions in life in an attempt to better oneself and others but those who are afraid tend to ignore their failings under a banner of Privacy. I'm not saying everyone should blurt out their deepest darkest secrets or tell us all how many times they slept with their husband or whatever. But sometimes when we look at these squeaky clean blogs we need to realize there is a sister under that beautiful mask that is hiding pain.

haven't you seen those beautiful ballroom masks they wore in the days of Olde? They were so flawlessly beautiful and you could be anyone you wanted to be while you wore them. Yet under them you are a turmoil of emotions.
I will use myself as an example so no one thinks I'm pointing fingers.
I have now how many blogs!?!?! 5! Oh my! If a person who hasn't known me online for very long trips up onto my steps of words to visit me and says WOW how does she do it all? She's got this Directory and this AMW Blog! Oh and there's the new Jummah Resolutions! Later she's gonna do some good for Muslimah Authors and can you believe she does all this and still homeschools with a new blog, cooks and cleans, and irons and takes care of her husband.

Well don't believe it honey. Not for one minute. It is my beautiful glittery mask of perfection.
I have my issues. Lots of them. I have my pain. Deep Pain sometimes. I have my disorganized fritzy days where I'm staring at my blog page with glazed eyes then turn it off ignored. I try to make my first priority my kids. Then my husband's wants like a clean house and nicely cooked food. Then my kid's schooling, THEN it comes down to my free time. i break it up between my billions of projects.

I don't know why the past month or so I haven't felt like commenting to many people on this blog or on anyone else's blog. It's weird and i apologise. But recently I've been forcing myself to get out there again and mingle more and be more open again to meeting new bloggers. And it helps. The more I like talking to them the more I remember why I loved Blogging to begin with. Meeting awesome new people everyday. But as I jump blog to blog I'm realizing how careful we all are online not to expose ourselves too much in case someone tries to burn us online. Sometimes we try so hard and succeed that we look flat. As un-personable as those masks. Sure I love the "how-to-help-yourself" blogs that lead you step by step into a more organized and flowing life but on these blogs you don't see the real person deep under. you don't know their fears. You don't know why they shed their tears. They are flat blog people stuck in cyberspace.
Sometimes I'm constrained by my own limits on my blog It makes me want to scream. WHY CANT I BLOG ABOUT THAT!!! I wanna yell. Ahhh, because if you say that the blog world will take a collective gasp and burn you down the invisible hole. Also I constrain myself by what my family and friends read. Hubby says: Don't say this. Friends will say: She said WHAT! Etc... So sometimes I read bloggers who hide their identities and are free to say whatever they like and I envy them. they are free to take off the mask and show their real souls. Souls that tell a real tale. A tale that others like me flock to so that we can feel our Humanity.
What about you guys out there? Do you feel sometimes your blogs are too goody goody? or do you think you can add more depth without compromising your identity safety?

Women's Silent Tears

How many tears have been shed,
because of few words said,
by voices low and deep,

how many more must weep,
withhold them, they cannot keep,
down faces very pale,

through grief; the silent wail,
battling emotions, they fail,
yet inside they harden,

though they beg for pardon,
hearts locked up by wardens,
who really has the key?

A lioness all will see,
selflessly, protects her family,
yet inside a mouse,

rocking numbly in her house,
always pining for her spouse,
those escaping little tears,

exposing all her fears,
subjecting her to jeers,
but her soul's strong,

though they do her wrong,
she'll bite her willing tongue,
bottled in her head.

Many more tears shed,
ringing her eyes with dread,
underneath they simmer,

resolving with a glimmer,
blurring smiles with a shimmer,
they fall without sound,

fresh throughout the rounds,
pacing the same ground,
so soft she was made,

but, she must stand brave,
his mercy does she crave,
Women's silent tears.

~(c) Brandy A. Chase -2009
~[do not reprint without permission]