Captain’s Log: Day One
If you’ve known me in any capacity you know that every year, for about the last thirty-seven, I’ve been observing the month of Ramadan.
And each year, someone new in my life, or rather my social media one, will read my Captain’s Logs for the first time. I imagine through these “logs” that I’ll gain a friend or ally and to be honest, in today’s cultural climate, I might gain some enemies too.
Unfortunately, that’s where we are.
That’s the reality of the world we live in.
A world filled with anger, fear, hate.
One, many of us want to shield our children from. While others live sadly in a world where they want to weaponize them.
Weaponize them with bigotry. Weapons of misunderstood rage. Weapons of greed. Weapons of hate.
And yet, they smile through windows of comfort and safety while so many others… children…just like theirs…suffer…right across the way.
I see the world.
I see you.
Just because I carry myself with my own smiles doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s going on.
We all do.
We are all aware.
Our smiles? The smiles of masks.
I’m much older now.
But I’m still young.
I’ve lived a life with trauma. A life of struggle. One of hardships.
And yet, I really don’t know what any of those are. Not because I haven’t had to fight through them often with flowing tears but because from my angle, it’s only one perspective.
My “tragedies” don’t hold a candle to those of others.
I know not what it’s like to lose a child, even worse, more than one.
I know not what it’s like to be removed from my home against my will, cast onto a street, my basic comforts and needs stripped from me.
I know not what its like to live in constant fear where my bed is now a pile of rubble, not knowing which family member or friend will be next.
And, Alhumdulillah*, I’m blessed that I don’t have to. I should be more grateful.
Many of you have grown with me.
You too have lived a life. And I’m sure, in it, at moments you had pain. None of us are immune.
Remember, those days where you watched me across the lunch table and asked me, “What about water?!” when I’d start my month of fast.
And I’d reply “Not even water.” As you jokingly dangled your food, to tempt me, in front of my face.
Those were simpler times. (For some of us, not for all).
And as I have grown. I know that all of you have too.
Here we still are thirty seven years later.
Only now our questions are far more complicated, more complex.
We think of questions none of us have the answers to but are always hoping someone else does.
No, I don’t look back and miss the simplicity of you wanting to know how I can make it without water.
Instead, I see how far we have come.
Despite having incredibly different lives, with incredibly different cultures and incredibly different faiths, we are still here.
We are still together.
We are still friends.
And as much as I would be there to help you, I know many of you would be there to help me in the same ways too.
Sure, I’ve lost a few of you along the way.
But you’re still here. Observing me, like I do you…at a distance…imaging your life and hoping the best for you.
But for those…those still here.
Those still listening. Still asking. Still reading.
Thank you.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you asking.
Thank you for learning.
But most of all, thank you for stepping out of your comfort zone and teaching others about us too.
It’s standing justly together that makes all the difference. Standing against the wrongs and up for the rights. Negating the world of negativity with actions of love, kindness, peace.
It is with this love that I hope for you (and even more so to those who are unknown to me yet still feel like family) peace, comfort, and blessings as 1.8 Billion of us embark on yet another month’s long spiritual journey.
(*Alhumdulillah: Praise be to God.)
