Dreary Days

We have had some beautiful sunny days recently and watching the world blossom and turn green has been an absolute pleasure. Today was the first day in a while when we had a full day of grey skies and rain.

Usually I love rain and it doesn’t stop me going out or I enjoy watching it from my window.  If nothing else I was glad to see my plants being watered. When it started this morning, I went out to rescue my seed trays from being drowned and then shivered in the garden for a few minutes enjoying the rain.

As the day wore on a mixture of being busy with work and children, being stuck indoors and the grey weather started to drive me slightly mad, by about 4pm when I logged off and went to take a  nap it had me feeling down.

It helped to remember that dua (prayers) made during rain are accepted. Mostly it helped to get some much needed sleep and wake up prep leftovers for iftar instead of cooking.

Anas Bin Malik (RA) reported “Whilst we were with the Messenger of Allah ṣallallāhu 'alayhi wa sallam (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) rain fell upon us. The Messenger then exposed part of his garment so that rain fell on his body. When we asked him why he did so, he replied “Because it has just come from the Exalted Lord” (Sahih Muslim)

The Prophet ṣallallāhu 'alayhi wa sallam (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) said “Two will not be rejected. The Duaa after the Adhan and the Duaa under the rain”. (Al-Hakim, Sahih)

Quarantine Diaries: Stir Crazy

Up until now my lockdown days have been busy: filled with parenting, work, cleaning, cooking, and schooling. I have mostly run from one to another or sometimes tried to do two at once.

I have kept upbeat and have been happy at home, feeling grateful that we are all now well and have enough of what we need to get by. I have noticed in some of the local WhatsApp groups I am in, some people have struggled with feeling lonely, depressed or have been struggling with boredom.

During the last weekend, I took an extra day off and ended up spending the time catching up on chores. It left me time to read and rest properly.  I was fine until about Sunday afternoon, when I found myself restless.  There was nothing to do, clean, cook or tidy.  I couldn’t concentrate on a book, I couldn’t bear to watch anything online. I didn’t want to get my craft or jewellery making materials out.  I was just going round the house in circles at a loss about what to do with myself and managing to annoy my family, especially my younger son, who is my favourite person to annoy (he is best at taking a joke).

In the end, my other half took me for a walk, I managed to vent with him and get it out of my system, which is not really the right way to do things but helped a lot. We are getting to the middle of the week and I can feel the restlessness building again. This evening I have been praying salawat (Durood Ibrahimi), because I find this always soothes me and makes me feel blissed out.

I am looking forward to Ramadan and a new routine and good intentions about good habits. Maybe I need a big, exciting new project to keep me busy 😊

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How have you been using you time? Have you struggled with quarantine? Or are you too busy, or occupied to notice being stuck indoors?

Our Changing World

We are four weeks into being at home as the Corona virus pandemic goes on in the UK and the whole country at a standstill. One of the things that has really bothered me throughout is all those people that will no longer be able to work or have an income.

So many people live from pay cheque to pay cheque, barely making it through the month or out of their overdraft. We know of so many single people and families through the masjid and friends that don’t have recourse to public funds, this could be for various reasons – their case is being processed by the home office, they are appealing after their asylum case has been rejected, some that are even here after their visa ran out. If these people can’t work right now, even if under the radar doing low paid work, they can’t eat.

There must be so many others that are just getting by and are wondering what will happen over the next few weeks and months and where that will leave them.  With the country heading for a recession, perhaps the worse for many generations, it is easy to believe that the world will be a very different place when we come out of the other end of this horrible situation.  Just the sheer number of people at risk of losing their homes is terrifying.

Many of us are thinking about how we can get through, others about how they can adapt and ride the changes to their benefit. But there are those that will only be at the mercy of events, the vulnerable, the elderly, those too sick or mentally unable to keep going.  These are the people we will have to look out for, to think of and to find ways to support so that they are not left behind.

May Allah SWT have mercy on all of our brothers and sisters, on all of humanity insh’Allah

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A Little Eruption

As we get to the end of the twelfth fast, I am beginning to find myself getting tired. I am quite sleep deprived and I wonder if perhaps I am eating enough of the right foods.  I am also struggling with managing long hours on my feet in the kitchen, before and after iftar and managing the needs of my in-laws.  Between work and the Ramadan routine we have fallen into, there is very little time to even keep up with housework or reading Quran.

Today I thought I would give myself a break and order takeaway. Except we got to iftar, Little Man went and collected the food and before long there was squabbling over the drinks, Not just the kids either, the grandparents decided they wanted what the kids had.  I couldn’t take it any more. I shouted at them, one minute before iftar, when I should have been making dua.  I have asked for peace during that little window, just so that I can make dua in peace. I don’t think I asked for much.  I took my food and ate with the door shut in my bedroom.

I felt guilty and a little anxious about leaving everyone to it.  I didn’t enjoy my meal, even if I got some quiet.  I did however come to two conclusions:

1. The Ramadan routine is not fixed, if I am finding it all too much, I can change it.  I am thinking less and simpler food and everyone gets exactly the same of everything – they’ll still find something to squabble over, but I won’t be paying for drinks only for them to all start eyeing up the same one.

2. I have always held my tongue with my elders, but my in-laws may need to be given some gentle reminders about what I can manage and that provoking the kids is not helpful to me.  Hubby may also need some slightly less gentle reminders: i.e. if you can eat it in one dish, please don’t use two, unless you want to wash all fifty that seem to have appeared in the kitchen.  The kids may be getting the least gentle reminders if they are not careful, of the “do you want Eid cancelled?” variety.

We have another 17 or 18 fasts to go insh’Allah and I don’t want to spend all of them feeling like a Zombie with marshmallows for brains and a sore back, so I need to make some changes so that the month passes with a little more worship and a little less shouting at kids and the elderly.

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Grateful for Ordinary

Late last year I picked up the habit of morning journaling again.  I have done this on and off for the last fifteen years or so.  I have my paper journals which I fill with thoughts and ideas and bits of wisdom that resonate.  These are left out where anyone can read them and I have no problem with this.  In fact, I hope my children take an interest one day.  Then I have the journal I keep on my laptop on a Word document, this is to capture my inner thoughts and anxieties.  I write these to help understand myself better.  They have helped me through dark moments and helped me reflect when I can’t make sense of my feelings.  I am happy to delete these at the end of the year or even when I finish writing that morning.

I was digital journaling this morning and it brought back some powerful memories of journaling when I was expecting Baby.  I remembered how absolutely miserable I was at the time.  Both from the nausea of pregnancy and working in a really boring and uninspiring job at the time.  I remember feeling like I could not lift myself out of the hole I was in.  It felt like such hard work to get up each day, to get started.  I would sit at my computer at work, trying not to cry or just sit with my head in my hands.

I had a similar, but much worse experience after Gorgeous was born.  He was a beautiful and happy baby, placid and easy going.  Yet I didn’t want to care for him.  I had three children under five and suddenly I didn’t want to look after them.  I didn’t want to do anything.  Looking back, that is what I find so terrifying, I was not sad, or down or miserable.  I didn’t care, I didn’t feel anything at all.  I thank Allah (SWT) that the feeling, or lack of,  lifted after about three months, but in that time, every day was an uphill struggle and I could see no way out of it.

This morning I wrote: “I feel inspired to write, to move, to go about my daily work, it is a good feeling.” It is a good feeling, one we take for granted.  To be normal, to feel normally, to have the motivation to get up and start our day.  But we are not even aware of it until we lose it.

I have plenty to deal with at the moment: stroppy teenagers, work stress, a killer to-do list, little ones with chicken pox, but I can deal with them one at a time. I am well enough and I want to.

So this morning, I have my chores to do: ironing uniforms, the last of the laundry, cleaning the house, cooking for the next few days.  But I feel like celebrating normal.  I want to enjoy the ordinariness of the day, because there are much worse things to be and feel like than ordinary. 

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