These last few weeks have been heavy and busy – all of the
children at home, trying to get them to do schoolwork, prayers, their chores. Trying
to keep up with housework. Always wondering what to make for the next meal for
fussy kids whilst working from home.
My work revolves around community development, equality and
diversity and youth participation. In recent months I have been working on our
local authority’s corona virus response, including looking at how Black and
Asian people are disproportionately affected by the illness and thinking about how
we can help the most vulnerable parts of our community as we face a massive
economic recession.
So the death of George Floyd and the Black Lives Movement has
meant that my diversity work moves into a very busy, but uncertain and
uncomfortable space, where I am trying to support others, but uncertain I am
doing the right things myself and questioning whether I am doing enough.
All of these things have been overwhelming at times, depressing at
times and exhausting at many points. I found myself asking what the point of it
all was – children, family, work, community, this world. All of it seemed like
such hard work and such thankless work. I seemed to be trying to do everything as
best as I could, but none of it as well as I would have liked. Over the weeks, this feeling of running as fast as I can, but never being able to keep up, started to feel like
it is burying me under a heavy grey cloud.
More and more I have turned to prayer. I am trying hard to hold
onto some of the feeling and good habits of Ramadan. On days it feels so hard,
but I am not willing to let go, constantly asking Allah to help me hold onto
his worship and remembrance.
Last night I asked Allah SWT to help me rise out of this funk, to
find peace and contentment, to be grateful for his countless blessings. I sat with the way I was feeling and agreed
with myself to stop pushing, but to go through my prayer slowly, to take my time
with each part and not think beyond it.
I ended up meditating on joy. I know I am a joyful person; it is
my natural state and default. I see the good in people, things, and the world.
I love beauty and pleasure (perhaps too much, but it is how I am). I let the
small bubble of joy well up. I reflected on how blessed we are to be in this
ummah, that one truth on it’s own blows my mind when I reflect on it – Allah’s SWT blessing
and favour that we take for granted every day.
I reminded myself that no one can take away my joy. It lives in me
and it is who I am. It lives in each of the moments of my life, if I can just see it.
This morning I woke up feeling good. Hubby came back from a night shift and I just
enjoyed my hand on his arm as he talked about his night. The girls woke up and
I enjoyed their morning chatter and cheerfulness. I started to fret about what
to make for lunch, and thought sod it, I just got paid, I’ll treat the kids to
takeaway. I can use the time to clean my house and rest (and blog). There’s no
need to overthink beyond the moment and make myself miserable before the day has
started. I am enjoying the beauty of the day – sunshine and a fresh breeze after
days of rain. I am enjoying the banter and laughter of my children as they sit
on my bed distracting me. I am enjoying the feel of cool cotton on my new kurta
and the cool floor under my bare feet.
No one can take away your joy.
It’s there in every moment.
It’s there inside you.
