Absolutes, The Ultimate Deal Breaker and My Heavy Nauseating Dismay

"Adultery is the vice of equivocation. It is not marriage but a mockery of it, a merging that mixes love and dread together like jackstraws. There is no understanding of contentment in adultery.... You belong to each other in what together you’ve made of a third identity that almost immediately cancels your own. There is a law in art that proves it. Two colors are proven complimentary only when forming that most desolate of all colors—neutral gray." (Alexander Theroux, 1987)

Marriage. I can't pretend to know much about it. That's a road I've yet to wander. Today, though, I began to think about the state of it, and the reckless state of love, as well. I was finishing my work day in my office, talking to my new intern about his duties, when I got a call from a 515 number that I did not recognize. Fearful for my parents who were driving home to Iowa (home of the 515 area code), I picked up.

Casually on the other end of the line was Adam* (*names have been changed), my friend Krissy*'s new husband:

Adam: "Hi Kate! How's it going? This is Adam Strong, how are you?"

Me: "HI. Is Krissy okay? Is everything alright?" (I was worried. This call was unexpected. I hadn't talked to either of them since the wedding a little less than a year ago.)

Adam: "Yea, she's fine. I was just wondering how your weekend was."

Me: "Um, it was good. How was yours?"

Adam: "Did you and Krissy have a good time?"

Insert heavy, puzzled, dreadful silence here.

"I'll take the silence to mean you didn't see her this weekend. She said she was coming to visit you."

Long effing pause.

Me: "...I'm sorry. Oh God."

Adam: "It's ok. That's all I needed to know. Thanks. I have to go."

click.

I sat. My intern left. I sat some more. My brain trying to piece together the implications of the conversation that had transpired. Dread. Nauseating empathy. Sadness. Fear. Palpable disgust. My friend tangled me in a lie, and that is the best thing I can say about this situation. A marriage is probably ruined today, and two souls are left in tatters.

A vow is defined as "n. an earnest promise," "a declaration or assertion." To "vow," though, is also a verb, and must be acted thereupon. When we make an irrevocable promise, especially one of this magnitude, it is our obligation to consistently and deliberately relive our words through our actions (if only to remind ourselves of said vow), and anything less is unconscionable. Because when we vow to do something, whatever that thing may be, it means more than our intentions at the time. A vow is a verb that dictates, at the very least, consistency. In the realm of active verbs, intention means nothing. If we lose sight of our promises to one another, even for a moment, we open ourselves to the potential for all of the awful possibilities that could exist, and would exist, if we didn't keep on point. And even if it may not suit us at the time, it is important to remember that a vow is greater than an individual.

Let's not forget that nobody actually knows what happened between Krissy and Adam. There are always two sides to the proverbial a coin, and I've been told that each person deserves at least 70 excuses. So. Did she cheat? I don't know, and I don't plan to try and figure it out. And besides, that's not the point, anyway.

Now, if I had no other option but to choose between the two, I'd most certainly rather be abandoned than betrayed, and I'll be the first to condemn adultery. However, we are all human, and none of us are above the potential for small lapses in judgment or even devastating crimes against one another (I guess). But may we be protected from both, insha Allah.

The point I am trying to make here, is simply the necessity for deliberation and preparation, especially when entering into contractual vows.

When I was growing up, my father once replied to a question with a quote by Antoine de Ste. Exupery (the author of Le Petit Prince) that I haven't forgotten: "Life has taught us that love does not consist in gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction". This is true, I think, because when we are looking at one another, we are essentially seeking ourselves; and in seeking ourselves we seek the fallible. And marriage, I gather, is not some whimsical party that just happens, it is a marathon of epic proportions, complete with dehydration and the inability to stop to go to the bathroom, metaphorically speaking. In marriage, we've got to be ready to get past the mess, whatever that may mean.

So in contemplating marriage we have to stop and think about what those vows actually entail. They include, but are not limited to, recognizing each others' faults and failures, making each others' families our family and realizing that even the most magical of love changes over time. Those vows mean that we have to stop being sixteen and look out for each other, often before we begin to consider ourselves. Those vows mean that we have to know exactly where we are going, agree to the terms and 'stay the course' (and yea, unfortunately, marriage sometimes looks more like Iraq than it resembles Paradise). To participate in the active 'verb' of love, it means that we no longer have the privilege of simply fending for ourselves, and that our internal compasses must point in the same direction. And when that fails, we have to reset towards due North (or North East, depending).

And in honor of keeping things real (or kosher or honest or halal), I think we'd all agree (whatever our orientation) that when the opportunity to do something absolutely wrong looks us in the eye, we've got to find a way lower our gaze.

Between One and Another: Conversion, Identity and All Those Questions

And in the Middle of it all, Celebrating 'Small Wins'

Kate,

It's so nice to hear from "family." I needed it today. There's a lot of service men giving me a whole lot of unenlightened mess. So if I may ask (and everybody does) what was it that led you to become a Muslim? I absolutely LOVE when people become Muslims and just really be themselves. It makes it seem so much more genuine to me. Obviously Islam helps us be the best version of ourselves but way too many people convert to Al Islam and become a totally different person. It's almost like they stop being themselves and play a character. The character they play is a super-Muslim but the real them is still the same jerk they were before converting. Then when they tire of playing that role they go right back to the person they were before Islam. Some people though, they stay themselves and just allow Islam to make them the best version of who they are and that s*** is beautiful. Just a glance at your (myspace) profile makes me think you're the latter.

(Islam has done nothing to correct my horrible spelling) (the spelling really was horrible. I edited for the sake of the English language)

My wife became Muslim about a year ago and she's just a more inspired version of the person I fell in love with. She chooses not to cover her head (which many Muslims act like is the 6th pillar of Islam or something) and kept her name (see, EVERYONE has their ideas and opinions about THESE topics, especially). I think it's really genuine.

I'll won't go on any further but I'm just curious what brought you to your decision.

Congratulations either way and maybe we cross paths at some point.

As Salaamu Alaikum sis.

The above is a note that I recently received re: "being a new Muslim" from one very rad revert. I'm posting it here because this is something I'm thinking about these days - what it means to no longer be as congruent as I once was.

It seems like everyone has expectations of the ways in which I will express my Muslim-ness. People are nervous about what that really means. Everyone has an opinion, that's for sure, and mostly I am grateful for input, especially when it comes from a place of love, care, knowledge and concern. But there's so much to learn and so much to work out (big and small), and in the end, I'm going to have to learn it for myself.

For example, people (including me) want to know whether I'm going to cover my feet, if/when hijab is going to happen (isA), and whether it's alright for me to eat chicken at restaurants. I get reminded to check wrappers for pork product, witness discussions about whether you have to deliberately do wudu in the shower, etc. etc. (all very helpful discussions, don't get me wrong, but I'm working on the basics these days). Everyone, even Muslim converts, have something to say (which is good, it means they really care), and I'm a bit overwhelmed.

Hold me.

Here's the thing though. Everyone makes this out to be a HUGE change, but it really isn't all that hard, and it shouldn't be. That's not the point, now is it?

It's only hard if one makes it hard.

And I've been letting it be hard lately, and letting the details get in the way of the end Goal. Aside from working on my pronunciation and waking up earlier to pray (and other details), I think pretty much everyone will tell you that I'm not much different than I was in December, and I'm not losing my identity, or trying to be a super-anything. I'm just working on being more deliberate now, and I think that makes me a better Kate (and yes, the name is staying. It means "pure," after all. And there's not a thing un-Islamic about that).

And instead of getting stuck on the minutiae and stressing out about the process, I'm choosing to (as Aliyah says) "celebrate small wins" and continue to stumble forward.

And after all, there are so many big wins to focus on, that it would be a shame to get stuck in the chaos of little things (I'll figure those things out, with time and patience, isA). Because - living Islamically, having a family that loves me, and friends who accept this new part of my life as something totally great - those things, by themselves, are all momentous wins.

And a small win, tomorrow, is my MPH commencement. Alhamdulillah.

A Rose by Any Other Name Would (Not) Smell As Sweet...

Guest authored by: Kate's friend Alissa. And by "Kate", I'm referring to the being who has been endeared to us all through her actions, words, and loveliness, and for whom the label of one name versus another would not change a thing...or would it? (duh duhhh DAHHHHH [suspenseful 'what is going to happen??!?!?!??! music])

Oh, and by "Alissa"...I just mean me.

Anyway, where was I? (Constantly wondering this, these days) ...Ah yes! Talking about Kate. As you all know by now, apropos to Kate's previous blog entry, our darling has embarked on quite an interesting journey. Part of what some people are wondering about her first stops aboard the Muslim train, is whether or not she'll change her name (for those not familiar with why this would come up, google "Cat Stephens", or "Float Like a Butterfly, Sting Like a Bee" ( except maybe use the boolean search aids and put the second suggestion all in quotes unless you want a hundred hits about pollination coming up before you finally find "Muhammad Ali/Cassius Clay"). On my gosh I am having a hard time staying on track, sorry!

Aaaaanyway, so in pondering the thought of Katherine Ashley Downing changing her name, I'd like to dedicate this, my inaugural (probably should just say "only" because you can already tell how it's going...) guest blog entry, to listing suggested alternatives for Kate's new name, in honor of her new commitment in life. And in honor, obviously, of our inability to take ourselves too seriously.

But first: two thoughts before I launch into my litany...1) as per the title I chose for this entry, Shakespeare had some thoughts on this very topic. His perspective was that a rose, and it's beauty, significance, and symbolism, were innate in its being, and owing nothing to it being called a rose. That the name was just a way to convey all of the things that would take sentences, paragraphs, or I guess, mimetic hand gestures, if that's your thing, to convey. And Shakespeare was a wordy guy, so he'd know. But the point being simply that a rose would still be everything that it is, chiefly a sweet smelling object, regardless of what one were to call it. That is one side of the argument. I'm not totally inclined to agree, because I think we become the embodiment of the names we are given, such that those who love us most connote all of those things about us with our names, and our names imply all of those things (i.e. it's why when you suggest a name for your friend's baby and a person of that same name made out with that friend's boyfriend in seventh grade, she goes "no WAY am I going to have a bratty, two-faced baby"). Etc. etc...it's quite a philosophical conversation, though, of nearly the same magnitude as that favorite about a tree falling in deserted woods, so I'll leave it to you to ponder.

And pre-list consideration #2 (representing the other half of the argument): I'm just going say: Prince, in the nineties. 'Nuff said. (Ok, for those whom it's not quite enough said, I'll just add "Artist formerly known as Prince", "TAFKAP", and lastly, that crazy symbol that looks androgynous and possibly like a good lower-back tattoo for a person not knowing better.) Di'int sell a lotta records, yo.



And without further ado, here's the list:

1. Kat Stephens (I just love this option. Only requires a last name change and very minor reworking of the first name. And she's jazzy, so ya know.)

2. Mowgli Baloo (I just love Jungle Book. Kate has informed me this isn't really Islamic)

3. Queen Noor (Already working really well for one person.)

4. Ten Downing (Alright, so technically that's a number, and it would be naming her after the British Prime Minster's residence, but it's catchy.)

5. Snuggles (I used to want to name a puppy that.)

6. Muhammad Yusuf Ali Islam (This is a hybrid. You do the math.)

7. Sunni Shia (...Kate's a uniter. Not a divider.)

8. Kate X (although she isn't a Faracon-style convert...)

9. Kareem Abdul Jabbar (dude gets serious air.)

10. Yasmeen Bleeth Downing (yasmeen is perfect, and well, similar traits.)

Ok that's enough. Ten is a good number for list-making. And again, a good first name for Kate (see item 4).

It's been a pleasure. With that, I'll sign off and hand this blog back to [to be determined] Downing.

I'll tell you LEYSH!

Most of you know that I converted to Islam by now. If you hadn't heard, SURPRISE! I've become Muslim. Consider this your formal notification. It's really funny though, everyone (Muslim, non-Muslim and potential Muslim alike) wants to know WHY (As if "why?" is actually really the relevant or salient question, especially for Muslims, to be asking...But I'll tell you my top reasons anyway). Since inquiring minds want to know...

1) I really like the scarves. They're pretty.
2) I'm hungry for halal.
3) I like cubes.
4) I've always wanted to go to Guantanamo.
6) I'm not actively opposed to polygamy (so I figured "why the heck not!").
7) Christians kept trying to convert me, while Muslims remained coy (I respect that).
8) I always wanted to be named Leila.
9) One word: dowry. (gotta pay off the student loans, after all)
10) ...I believe in Allah (swt), and that Muhammad (saws) was His Prophet.

Let's do a little "Where's Waldo..." Try to find the one important answer in the list. If you can find it, I'll give you a prize... :)

...ok so now I'm afraid that what I've written is offensive. I may take this down.