We're all the same...see...

A versus B: The Grass is Always Green Up in Hurr, No Matter What Yours Might Look Like

Everything you see has its roots in the unseen world. The forms may change, yet the essence remains the same. Every wonderful sight will vanish; every sweet word will fade, But do not be disheartened, The source they come from is eternal, growing, Branching out, giving new life and new joy. Why do you weep? The source is within you And this whole world is springing up from it.
- Jelauddin Rumi

I am not a character from Sesame Street bouncing around blindly spouting off hallmark card-worthy platitudes. I know very well that life is sometimes dirtier than some wax bouquet of flowers and more rotten than some touched up, clichéd hopelessly surreal and overly photographed bowl of cherries. I do, however, look at life critically and try to parse out the positives whenever possible. I'll admit that I might seem naive, but the truth is, I've seen enough suffering and been there enough times myself, to know that it's not a good place to live.

Recently, a friend of mine scoffed at my writing, insinuating that it is trite and overly optimistic. I can take the criticism. But for the record, I believe that my friend is the one who should adjust his view, if only for his own sake.

So yea, I tend to take the 'A' perspective, 'cause the grass on my side of the fence is the only green I'll ever get to see, regardless. I am certain that we profoundly impact ourselves and our environments simply by the choices we make in the way we choose to view our surroundings. If you need proof, take a look at the following microscopic photos of water that were showcased in the popular documentary, "What the Bleep Do We Know?!"

The first image is of a particle of water effected by the simple idea of love and gratitude.



In contrast, the following photo is what happens when water comes into contact with the feeling 'You make me sick. I will kill you.'



Pretty astonishing stuff to think that a mere thought can reverberate to cause a direct change in something completely outside of the mind. The crux of the film, and I guess my post as well, is this: If our thoughts as humans can do that to water, imagine what we do to ourselves, internally. Seriously, I'm not trying to plagiarize the documentary, especially since they use this idea to support atheism, but honestly, so much of our suffering simply belongs to us. And although I'm not perfectly positive all the time, I truly don't want to play like that.

I believe that love abides, and that our differences destroy us, so therefore we must find commonality. I despise meanness in all its forms, and I prefer to hope rather than to despair. And if we get less than 100 years to live, I'd like to wear those pink glasses, and live in a way that allows me to do so. So yea, I like movies like The Notebook and Serendipity, and I believe in fortuity, and I look for the silver lining. If I don't look for it, after all, there is no way I will ever see it. And usually I can find it, in people, and in places, and in myself.

And that's the way it is with faith. It is a choice. And I prefer faith over doubt and promise over probability any day. And if that means I have further to fall in the face of ugliness, so it shall be. Call me naive or idealistic, but in a world where mental health is studied by looking solely at infirmity, I prefer a positive psychology approach to life and living. And I look for these conditions, rather than the negatives, in the people who surround me: wisdom, knowledge, courage, humanity, justice, temperance and transcendence. I find combinations of these things in each of you all the time.

Because when we look for these things, we find them, Alhamdulillah. And when we remember to see this way, the world is a much truer place to be. So if you are looking for a person who will commiserate with you on life's misery, I'm not your girl. But if you are constantly amazed at the heartbreaking mixed bag that the Universe unfurls for us each day, even despite some of its drudgery, here I am. I am for you.

On Limonata: My Parents' Passive Ambivalence about My Journey to Islam

I think they don't want to believe it's true. I think they are waiting out this phase, or trying not to stir the proverbial pot of my muslimness by staying utterly and completely silent. They haven't asked me a single question. I told them months ago.

On the surface they 'support me' and are 'fine with it,' but I'm just waiting for the day it becomes real for them. I hope they don't do what my friend Rebecca did, which was lose her mind and say a bunch of really offensive things, only to disappear for a few months and not return my calls. I'm thinking they might freak out a bit, but I'm hoping they won't disappear, insha Allah. It wouldn't be like them.

When I say that they haven't asked a single question, that doesn't mean that they haven't said anything. Actually, my mother has said a few things, namely recapitulations of "It's just not what I imagined for you." My dad has mentioned "Origin of the Species" a few times under his breath. But they are accepting it in their own Midwestern way, I think. I'd love to say that my parents are so progressive that it's all roses and sunshine, and that they said 'ok' to my announcement without that palpable tightness of concern in their voices. But the truth is they are doing the best they can with what they have.

If it were true that they accepted my conversion unquestioningly directly off the bat, they wouldn't be Marcia and John, and they wouldn't have raised me in the same way, and therefore I may not have become Muslim in the first place. So in a circular sort of way, I should be thankful for their instinct to worry first and accept later. And besides, I haven't done the best job of explaining it yet (partly because I don't think they've been ready and partly because I haven't been able to find a graceful segue into discussion).

Right now, all they have to go on is their knowledge of the American political climate (harsh), their own secular paradigm (where cultural competency doesn't always lead to understanding) and a book I just gave them by Susan Haneef. Given that, I think they are doing pretty well. A few non-verbal things are changing which gives me hope:

My dad stocks fun non-alcoholic drinks for me in their fridge and my mom bought me a long skirt today at Marshall's. I'd say that's a solid beginning to what I hope will be a positive and continuous discussion and a learning experience for all, insha Allah.

A lot of people have it much worse when they make such a seemingly drastic life change, so for me, today, the presence of pomegranate soda and limonata in the fridge is a fresh flower on a clear day. We'll work on getting them to understand the other stuff bit by bit.

That said, it really annoys me when people I know get worried that my daughters will feel shamed in their own skin or when people get concerned because I no longer date [I mean, how will I ever find a husband???]. I'm still me. If I believed in women's rights and love before, why would those things suddenly change?

For the misconceptions that my family and friends may harbor I blame (in no particular order): the rigid hypocrisy of privileged white feminism, the people who own the news, Jack Straw, Betty Mahmoody, and Muslims (like me), who do a terrible job of addressing those misconceptions when they arise.