Cape Town, South Africa

I find myself beginning with the birds yet again. They have begun to play a significant role in my day.  This time the squirrel made an appearance and furtively peeked out from behind a tree eyeing the bird tray. It deftly lunged forward and sipped from the water-bowl, grabbed a big piece of bread and dashed behind a branch frantically nibbling at it, still wary of the birds, who may spot him foraging their supplies.  I was surprised that the squirrel even cared. It was at least 3 times the size of the birds and could easily win in a scrap with anyone of them, or maybe not.  Maybe size and speed were no match for the sharp beaks of the tiny, feisty creatures of flight who lit up our garden with their chirpy twitter and colourful plumage.  I want to know more about these fluttering creatures, their names, habits, subtle language and behaviour. One would think that this would be the ideal time to read about these things.  Yet I find myself engaged in so many other things.

Surprisingly my days have been far busier than I thought possible. Over the Easter weekend, I fully expected to be binging mindlessly on TV series and movies, till there was nothing left to watch except re-runs of old classics. Instead I find myself vacillating between cleaning and cooking, exercising, and social media, and renewing my love for baking, even venturing into breads and cookies.  Why am I doing this. Is this my time-out or is this my attempt to escape from the reality of my existence?  My existential angst has been re-emerging and the fire within me rising yet again.  What is the more that I want?  What is the void that I keep trying to fill?  I am obsessed with changing the world for the better, and even though this is a noble pursuit, I have to question why it is so important for me. How much of it stems from a deep desire to help and how much of it for self- accomplishment and false pride.  All these questions race around in my mind as I meander through one day after the next in isolation of the rest of the world.  This is supposed to be a kind of Khalwa (spiritual seclusion from the world) so that I may contemplate my place in the universe and my love and relationship with Almighty God. I find my seclusion less tranquil and more arresting as I feel Him bring me closer and closer to my own reality, my own truth in its full splendour. The good, the bad and the ugly, all coming together in the oneness of my beautiful but restless existence on this distressed planet.  I sense an increased sense of panic setting in after the extension of the lockdown by 2 weeks and experts are predicting that South Africa will reach the peak of its infections only in September. That means potentially longer periods of social distancing and isolation, weakening economies and hungrier more desperate people…

How do I make sense of all of this?

I watched a YouTube video where a learned and wise Imam give a Friday talk at a masjied somewhere in the world.  He spoke about the COVID virus not as a calamity but as an awakening of conscience to humanity. God is inviting us through Him to right the wrongs we have created through our own hands.  ‘In this tragedy is opportunity’, he said in a soft yet assertive tone. If human beings were allowed to continue the way we have been we would be destroying this beautiful planet of ours.  He described it like a train rushing at an unforgivable speed towards its own destruction. Beautifully, the hand of God has worked through us to caution us and stop us.  Within only a month the atmosphere is being restored, marine life is re-emerging and the ecology is restoring itself. Mother Earth is beginning to breath and live.  We are co-operating with each other and have forgotten to kill each other because something else is killing us now. We have started sharing our know-how and knowledge as the human family has become our main concern. We are transcending ethnicity, sex, religion, culture and geographical boundaries.   “Beautifully”, he says in his calm and soothing voice, “everything is fading away within the colourless beauty of humanity and that godly sentiment of caring and wanting good for all”. This lesson is taught so simply. Through a tragedy comes the greatest gift. The purpose of God is not to punish us for what we have done by our own hand, but to awaken us to revert to Him. He is not a vengeful angry God waiting for us to make a mistake. Instead he minimises the negative effects of our actions.  He is a loving God who awakens us and remind us to return to His protection and love, lest we deviate so far from goodness that we are completely subsumed by the darkness that we create. The calamities themselves have infinite mercies, such as those that surround us through this pandemic.

Although I had the knowledge of these concepts they had never reached the echelons of my heart and consciousness before.  The most disturbing thing about this man’s beautiful rendition of the subtle magnitude of God’s misunderstood mercy, is that many people in my community would likely reject his words based on the solitary inconsequential fact that he is a Shia Muslim.  I was even afraid to send his post to many people for fear of the backlash.  How fickle of me, to care about my reputation more than the truth.  What is this tragedy awakening within my own little unimportant world? Is it awaking me to my own vanities?  Is it rousing my deepest desires dressed up as spiritualism?

This virus is awakening me to the darkness within me. I see it when I engage on social media. I study my reactions with cat-like acuity. I notice my empathy for people who are disempowered. I see my irritation at the narcissism I see in others, which reminds me of my own. I see the envy I may feel for silly things. I notice the quick criticism and judgement I feel towards others because it’s so much easier to project than introspect. Many of these traits I thought I had conquered, yet I watch them re-surface and I know it is my calling to quell my darkness and let the light within me rise like the phoenix. And yes, it is this pandemic which is bringing me to another level of awakening. I see the goodness in me as clearly as the darkness.  I wish I had abundance to help many unfortunate souls.  I crave wisdom, patience and virtue. I seek to help others and empower them to bring out their light and awaken their inner truths.  Is it perhaps because I seek my own inner light and awakening? Alas! I also seek recognition, acceptance and admiration.  Oh! but for that last devilish want of being seen, known and admired, I would have made a great teacher and motivator.   The Sufi traditions teach about the different stages of the self. The most common state of being is when the soul is entrapped in worldly pursuits, struggling and suffering in the service of the baser self but always holding others responsible for their continued unhappiness. When one becomes aware of the soul’s abased situation and works on one’s self-progress to the next stage is almost opposite to the previous one, in which self-blame is so prevalent that it could reach the point of self-effacement. Although extreme it is the beginning of the journey towards purification. The third stage then sees the seeker is more matured and evolved, being able  to “surrender”, displaying patience, perseverance, wisdom and humility. The world will feel new and full of inspiration. The 4^th stage of consciousness, if one has the gusto to reach out of the comfort of the 3^rd is a higher level of consciousness which encompasses generosity, gratitude and an unwavering sense of contentment regardless of hardships in life. Those who reach the 5^th stage are pleased with whatever situation God places them in. The 6^th stage is when one becomes a lantern to humanity, radiating energy to everyone who asks for it, teaching and illuminating like a true master. Sometimes such a person may also possess powers to heal and will make a big difference in other people’s lives in everything they do and aspire to do; the main goal is to serve God through serving others. The 7^th stage is best left alone for now. All require rigorous discipline over the many different facets and layers of the nafs (ego).

Until I learned about these stages I never realised that my dream of being a great mentor was actually a desire to attain one of the lofty states of spiritual and physical existence.  This discovery of what it means, made me realise how very far away I am from being the human being that I want to be and that I have much hard work and struggle against my nafs if I have any hope of getting there. As much as I wish to impart wisdom (which I have yet to acquire), and empower others, I can never become a true mentor until I doff the robes of vanity and part ways with my ego. Losing my ego is not the same as losing myself.  In fact, the opposite is true. Losing my ego will help me find my true self, my higher self. Only when I find the weightlessness of a higher existence, devoid of the need to impress, to be right, to be admired, to be obeyed and respected; devoid of the need to for anything except Divine pleasure, will I find the path to my higher consciousness. Only then will the fire within me be quieted.

Through the quagmire of my soulful tryst, I am thankful for the fissure of light that I spot on the horizon as I hasten toward it in the hope of ennobling my rather tarnished existence. God has beckoned me, as He has all of humanity, to stop us from hurtling into the abyss of evil and self-created misfortune.  We can choose to hearken that call or we can choose to ignore it….

With love 💚

1 APRIL 2020

After the calm contemplation and gratitude I savoured on Day 1, things started falling apart. At least in my own mind. The next morning, I took my cuppa to the back yard and sat on the garden chair, listening to the birds chirping away in the trees and waiting for them to start pecking at the crumbs in the bird tray. This has become my new morning ritual.  I felt a chill in the morning air, warning that the cold was approaching. The weather was changing as it always does at this time of year, only this time I was more alert to it.  Our lives are changing…

That chill I felt was almost a premonition of the trials I would face over the next few days.

There is the usual daily overload of the dreaded realities about the virus, the ‘what to do’, ‘what not to do’ and precautions to take, most of which we should all be familiar with by now.  I still keep an eye though in case there are new updates or cures on the bleak horizon of new confirmed cases and rising death tolls.  There is also the fair share of hilarity to help us cope in this vexing time.  I watch the flood of games, activities, sharing of recipes and proud pictures of the results on social media, as people try to make the confinement in their homes more bearable. Much to my amusement cooking and baking is a popular pastime during lockdown amongst men and women alike, bringing to mind a cheesy phrase – Corona is bringing out the best in MANkind.

Corona is bringing out something completely different in me.  Working from home is proving more taxing than I thought. I seem to be working longer hours and encountered my first hitch when I couldn’t connect to a video conference meeting. I have always had a frustrating relationship with IT. My ignorance (despite my best efforts) works against me and I often find myself in a twist with technology. IT professionals (who probably hate me) tend to work harder on my issues, between hardware and software issues, and the stupid mistakes I make that cause bigger problems.  I am the ‘standard’ for good laptops. If it can last with me through the warranty period, it’s a good machine! Until I got a MacBook, a few years ago, our IT department contemplated taking out extended warranties for me. Through these ordeals, which happen every now and then, I have what I can only explain as ‘IT meltdowns’. When things go wrong, I feel helpless, angry and tearful. Not my best moments, to say the least. So, it’s not surprising that one of the things that would happen to me while I’m confined to my home, is an IT mishap. I ended up screaming at innocent people and feeling thoroughly ashamed after.

This, however was the least of my meltdowns. Over these past few days.  I have been interacting more on  social media and encountered a concerning phenomenon.  A few people are not taking the isolation seriously. Popping in and out for shopping every day, apparently even allowing a domestic worker to come in, saying that its God’s will so whatever will be will be…

Of course, I retaliated with what I hoped was a dose of common sense, which didn’t seem to shift their thinking an iota.  I was really surprised at how angry it made me.  I again felt, helpless, frustrated and tearfully angry. I was triggered again!  This time by what I thought was careless thinking by some.

Being in social isolation seems to have aroused my demons and pushed them right into my face.  In my usual fashion, I started analysing my reactions and tryed to connect it to a pattern that may be occurring in different forms all over the world, except maybe America, where the President thinks that a few deaths are not a big deal in the face of a greater economic loss.

I hear people joking and complaining about going stir-crazy, feeling bored, frustrated and generally out of sorts. When we are in a situation that constrains us, we react.  I experience this when I am fasting during Ramadaan. The food deprivation dulls my desires for anything other than food. It also raises my irritability and heightens my reactions to the things that trigger me.  A Muslim scholar once explained this phenomenon as the opportunity to become aware of one’s weaknesses and to correct them.  Sleep deprivation is known to have even more extreme reactions from human beings. Social isolation deprives us of our freedom of movement and contact with the outside world.  It deprives us of the human connection, the value of which this virus is revealing.  Similarly, this deprivation challenges our equilibrium and is bound to exacerbate any tensions and misgivings that we ordinarily feel.

I turned inward again and with a great deal of shame, started recounting the internal turmoil and blame I experienced in these last few days.

I picked up a booklet that was lying on my bedside table which I had been meaning to read. It was a synopsis of the life of my hero and role model, the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). This is what it said about his character:

‘Muhammad kept his feelings under firm control. When annoyed, he would turn aside or keep silent. When someone committed an act that violates God’s law, he used to show anger and a firm stand.  He never got angry for his own sake. He did not find fault with others nor did he overly praise others.’

Every description of him I have ever read, paints the picture of moderation in thought, behaviour and action, and a paragon of safeguarding the highest interests of everyone.

Instead of chastising myself and wallowing and self-pity, I decided to search for God’s gift of mercy in my situation.  Today this virus is teaching me (or reinforcing what I struggle to accept).

I have no control over other people’s thoughts and actions. I can only say what I believe to be true, acknowledging that my truth may change as my understanding evolves.  I cannot assume responsibility for the actions or reactions of others, but I can work hard to control my own reactions and strive to act in the best interests of everyone around me.  I cannot be an IT boffin, but I can accept when things go wrong and hold patience until they are resolved. Instead of giving in to my anger and frustration and shouting out, I can try harder to control my impulses and get a hold of my nafs (ego).

I received a beautiful message on a WhatApp group from an inspirational lady today:

‘Nothing should go back to normal. Normal wasn’t working.’ – “Use the time to re-assess, re-evaluate, re-set and respond with a difference”.

With love💚

27 MARCH 2020

On 23 March 2020 the President announced a 21-day lock-down for South Africa.  Today, 3 days later, we have 927 cases of COVID-19 in South Africa and the first 2 deaths in Cape Town, the city I live in.  Social media is abuzz with updates, informative video warnings and news stories. It’s like we’re living an apocalyptic viral movie.

The day before

Yesterday, as I packed up my office after a turbulent day of organising and preparing for my staff to work from home, bustling about signing off last minute documents and setting up my computer for seamless remote conferencing, I left the office after most people had rushed off for the last bout of shopping and organising before they would be confined to their homes.  The atmosphere was tense. For the first time since the announcement, I felt a wave of anxiety passing over me.  I felt like I was in a parallel universe and I was alone.

Deserted.

The world was somewhere else.

As I pulled out of the closed parking warehouse opposite the quay side I saw the Agulhas II getting ready for a sail to Marion Island. I couldn’t believe they were still making the trip, but my mind was too troubled to think about that now.   I looked long and hard at the sea and Table Mountain as I drove home trying to savour every moment, not knowing when I would set eyes upon natures gifts again.  What if the lock-down was extended? What if we ended up like Italy?

When I got home my stomach was in knots. I felt tearful. We had managed to get enough hand-sanitiser but had no masks as they were all sold out. I had resigned myself to wearing a bandana around my face for the odd necessary trips I may have to make during the lock-down.  My husband called to say my sister-in-law had sewn some washable masks for our family and that he should fetch them.  I smiled. Why was I so afraid?  God sends what I need when I need it. I had been quite calm before today, telling myself that we need to respect the means – tie our camels so to speak and trust Him.  I calmed down and submitted to the situation.

I would be at home with my family surrounded by comfort and amenities.  I had made sure that the lady who cleans our home was paid in full even though she had to stay home, even before the lock-down as a precaution. She was given hand sanitiser. She was not so fortunate. She lives in a township where space is not a luxury. She won’t have a choice of Netflix or DSTV or playing word games or building puzzles to keep from boredom.   She won’t be able to jump in the car and get to the doctor or the pharmacy or the grocer. She will have to wait for a taxi, which can only operate at limited times. The taxi will be full of people and she will be exposed. If she has no money she won’t even be able to go and buy food. Thousands of people face the same fate in South Africa. Some have one tap shared by hundreds of people, no sanitisers and live in on top of each other in dusty run-down shacks made of corrugated iron sheets and wood. I felt grateful.  This virus made me feel grateful. I started wondering how I could help those in need.  That evening I received a WhatsApp from the orphanage in Hanover Park, asking for assistance with their banking details. The opportunity knocked and I could answer without leaving my home.  My eyes welled up…

I felt God’s love pour over me.  Why did I let my fear block that omnipresent love?

Today

Today, was one of the most productive days. With my laptop, big monitor set up and MS Team running, I could finish my budget and documents that were usually interrupted by phone-calls, walk-ins and meetings.  I worked longer and harder than I could at the office, and I felt satisfied rather than tired and depleted at the end of the day.  It is Friday, it was Jummuah (the Friday congregational prayer). The mosques are closed. Our big family set up in roomy large lounge and held our own congregation, making the most of our confinement. My husband gave an incredible talk about how to combat the virus and not forget our humanitarian duty to the less fortunate. We prayed together young and old, and my eyes teared as I looked around the bright large room filled with love. This virus gave me an opportunity to feel blessed.

As the sun started subsiding well before sunset, I sat on one of the garden chairs with my tasbeeh (rosary beads), making thikr as my Sufi Master had taught me, adoring My Creator.  The sun shone the trees and plants in the garden glistened in the afternoon light. I felt the usual calm descend on me when I look at nature, imbibing its glorious energy, as it I were one with the earth. I heard the distant melodious chirping of the birds that frequent our garden for the food and water we leave in the feeder tray hanging from the branch of a tree. I asked my daughter Zahra to fill the tray and watched as she lounged over to the tree, her long legs and youthful lithe figure catching my eye as I lovingly gazed at her beauty. Soon I heard a loud chirping as one of the birds were calling the others to hasten to the food.  They started arriving. A couple of pigeons, a few sparrows and a couple of beautiful brown spotted birds with luminescent turquoise undertones in their feathers and sharpish long beaks. I wish I knew what they are called, but I had never been one to remember such details. There was a squabbling as they established a pecking order. Some were relegated to the ground where they picked up crumbs that had fallen. One of the spotty brown beauties was not going to fight for food and she flew up, swooped down and picked up a up rather large piece of bread that had fallen to the ground in its sharp long beak. It dropped to the ground but she went in again swooped it up a second time, barely making it over the back wall with the weight of the catch, and dropped down to eat the spoils in relative peace away from the crowd.  The other brown spotty, obviously the alpha bird, despite being smaller in size than the pudgy pigeons, took occupation of the tray and started pecking at the crumbs. A smaller sparrow perched on the other side of the tray, cautiously picked at its share and spotty didn’t seem to mind, graciously allowing the little fellow to eat on the other side. The pigeons grabbed what they could from the floor.  Fortunately, the neighbourhood squirrel didn’t join in or the scene would have played out quite differently.  As I marvelled at this scene, I pondered about the behaviour.  Some of the birds had more to eat than others, the smaller one was allowed to eat at the main table and the others had to either snatch food or make do with lesser crumbs.  Is this not how humans behave? Is it instinct that makes human beings selfish, territorial and greedy, so that when there is a crisis they panic, selfishly stock pile and carelessly expose themselves and others to a deadly disease?  Human beings have a choice and we have the intellect to discern right from wrong, to overcome our fears and negativity and to do what is right.  More importantly we have love, which overcomes any fear, darkness and panic. It enables us to forgive, to care, to trust.  We are the highest order creation on this planet, with a responsibility to take care of each other and other everything else on it.  This Virus gave me an opportunity to witness nature in its raw beauty and to remind myself that nature and its beautiful creatures teach us. Humanity is out of balance, we must correct ourselves.

Stay safe

With love ❤️

Radia