I remember you

the lines of your face, deeply groomed grassy heaven

My tears furled in the crevice of dark tresses

I remember you

Dark, tall and handsome

An enigma

Not seeking to be chased but enjoying

The thrill of desire

I remember you

We lay, sprawled between silk lies

A tangle of webs caught between several truths

Things we’d hoped our hearts would hide

But see…I remember you

A wistful tale of love unrequited

Or perhaps too immature to ignite this fire

So important to my own song—

I suppose you’d helped me find my own

Touching traces of insecurity

So that I would unveil the real me

Not so pretty or so peaceful, no:

Painfully human, fleeing ease and flow

I recall—

Much laughter in the height of the morning

3am, hearts soaring

Recalling dreams of tomorrow

Though it’s actions turned sour

A hidden place inside of me

Stories never ventured, still unseen

You see…I remember you

The thrills of diving to the deepest end

Pulling me back to my waters ocean

Liquid desire tracing back to the Source

A sure testament of love as a compelling, mystique force

I recall, infinite stories of who we’d wish to be

Becoming all that God meant for me

Perhaps trading in another,

to reignite my own energy

Yes…you gave me a wonderful gift

The gift of remembering me

I remember me.

———

I guess love is never truly lost

Never taken or held behind

A finite fire smothered on a summers night

Illuminating the path to witness the stars shine

Gazing above, the heavens hanging on the edge of time

Reminding that it’s presence has always been alive

Time has taught me time and time again

Human love is only for the purpose of true remembrance

———

I saw God’s face

He smiled softly

Drove me deeper into the cold waters that met me

Cleansed grime and smut from clouded soul

Embracing insecurities and wounds of old

Salt stitching each layer of raw skin

Purging the cloud of sin from within

Loss and doubt that arose in a lack of faith

I’m happy that our imperfect love led me back to God’s face

Thank you

For leaving this memory of you.

As winters day rolls in

Sun rays burning dirt-colored skin

Peeling cloved eyes apart to

Witness your grin

Or perhaps soft snoring—

Hands searching for eternity,

Tracing ridges along deep waistlines

The aroma of yesterday’s coconut shrimp

engulfed between sheets,

Faint memories of distant dreams

Crashing like ocean waves into reality

Drowning out the sounds of our breath

Reminding us that time passed is each, a tiny death

Mingling, rising then crashing deeply

As firm digits rush to grope soft cheeks

Laughter breaking vocal chords weak

The deepest rumble, bold vibrations

Echoing from your stable mountain top

I’m grateful that it is your chocolate eyes I peer in—

On a chilly, winters morning

Redefining the Bounds of Spiritual Praxis

Lately, I’ve been attempting to find a new rhythm of spiritual practice, retrace my steps to relearn what it means to be an individual who serves God, who loves God and most importantly; who is God conscious. Do we absolve the meaning that intentionality brings in return for being a diligent soldier? Do we follow blindly without asking question, without coming to a deeper understanding of ourselves and God as One Union? And how do we allow ourselves to be properly yoked in the face of this magnificence that surrounds each one of us?

I’ve been searching for my relationship to the Ultimate to be much more prayerful. And silent all in the same instance.

You see, I was raised in a staunch Muslim background. I felt for most of my life, as I observed many of the practices of these wonderful, yet flawed individuals that there was missing the integral piece of clear-heartedness. It seemed that rituals were followed hollowly without true clear-heartedness- the sacred intention of wanting to be close to God for the love of this beautiful entity as opposed to guilt. Or fear.

When I actually think about it, many of these relationships included a sort of transactional dynamic between an individual and “the other”, which further perpetuated some reality of egotism. To believe that one is so important that they must be followed or ruled as some odd way of further proving this importance. I saw this in many peoples relationships not just with God but also, with authority figures; doctors/nurses, teachers and even parents.

It is true that many relationships on the outside definitely can operate in a transactional manner. “If you do this for me, I will love you more. If you don’t do this, I will hate you”, this is the idea isn’t it? In but so many words, we have continued to perpetuate this idea that our sense of worthiness, of being loved, cared for, accepted is dependent upon some outside validation of how good we are to other people. Of how good we are to the world. But the reality is that when you understand your inner worthiness apart from anyone else requiring it from you, this is when you truly are able to pour back into the world around you. How can we possibly expect to give freely, relentlessly and earnestly when we are giving from a place of needing someone else to validate us? We constantly place another’s mind and morality at the forefront of our consumption, needing someone, ANYONE to tell us that we’re good enough. And the real reason we need someone to tell us this is because we don’t believe it within ourselves. Thus, I feel this same fallacy, we project onto The Most High.

Tapping into the reality of God, for me at least, this being feels limitless. Merciful at the forefront, He see’s to the core of who we truly are. Seeing deeper than a meaningless identity of “this is who I am today and that’s who I was yesterday”, yet still allowing for us to experience this being through this very identity. So many stay perched on the surface level of who God is, believing that we are created in His image. Many believe that God has “likes and dislikes” and judges according to our feeble human affairs. That God takes human beings at face value and labels each of us as “good or bad”. A surface level, that places mans own ideology of morality and value at the forefront, instead of understanding and loving the intricacy of God’s nature and thus, failing to fall in love with their own.

What a gift life is when we are able to tune into the truth of who we have always been. We are able to tap into this limitlessness and relinquish false identities. Perched at the base of God’s throne, we recognize how small we are, and thank Him for it. I’d always marveled at the unique ability that religion sought to give tools and a means of absolving oneself in favor of the whole.

And The Whole is harmonious. It is also chaotic. It is an active and alive universe, with so many things happening in each instant since the beginning of time—it is expanding and releasing planets, while other ones die, when the star is absolved into a deep black hole and plunged into nothingness…What then is left behind? Then do the words of an abusive mother matter? Does the car that cuts you off on the way to work even make a dent in the reality of the cosmos? Does that emotion that you thought you’d NEVER get over, make its way back up to the heavens? Does man become that important to the grand scheme of creation?

Numerous times have I found myself at the precipice of grand self-importance. Maybe because I felt that if none of this meant anything, then God would dissolve itself. But at the ending of my identity, there is the beginning of the nameless, the formless that does not speak. But simply exists.

Lately, I’ve been trying to find a new rhythm of spiritual practice, retracing the rituals of old, the intentionality of my ancestors, the prayers that protected their graves. I’d searched so far only to come back to the place I’d started. Recognizing that to find God, the search must discontinue deep enough for me to dissolve myself, my separation, my opinion and distance. To melt back into this Majestic Creator who had always lingered deep within.

I pray that you find the strength to let go of yourself. Simply, to find yourself.

Xx

Heaven

Creating the Perfect Moment

I’ve been thinking much about the reality of time. How time is so precious and yet we materialize in and out of its presence, almost forgetting its essence. It’s been 7 months since my partner and I finished our road trip and all I can do is continue to look back at the old pictures, the beautiful moments in time never to be captured again.

 Its actually quite comical, because I was struck by this hauntingly beautiful dilemma after injuring my wrist. After getting off of work, while rushing to eat before leaving for my appointment, I pressed down on my already aching wrist and felt the bones snap into place, moving visibly underneath my skin. Whew! It was a crazy feeling and one that filled me with a good amount of anxiety. So, I left in anticipation and gratitude that I was on the way to my weekly chiropractic appointment with my wrist wrapped in a mesh beige cloth, restricting some of its movement. And yet, with each turn of my steering wheel, a bit of my wrist protested in pain, sore from over usage or even perhaps a misplaced bone. All at once, my ego began to fold in on itself – “I can’t believe this is happening! I hope I didn’t break my wrist; I don’t have any insurance; I don’t have enough money to pay for a hospital visit; I need to save up cash; why would this would happen now” and more and more and more. Until the anxious inner voice became so frantic that it began to blend into the chaos of everything else happening in that moment.

And then, it hit me. First my thoughts began to shift into awareness of my inner worry and anxiety, then curiosity (“I wonder how people who have arms amputated are still able to be content, loving and peaceful? Could I do that?”), to acceptance (“I’ve been on this earth for 25 years, my body has begun its merits of breaking down on me. I’m glad that I really am not my body.”), to just plain laughter. The laughter resulting from a deep knowing that had arisen from the state of affairs. In the midst of the anxiety, turned acceptance, I realized that many of us are only called to gratitude when something goes wrong. When things are right, we exercise this sense of entitlement to that space of peace. When my wrist was not sprained or in pain, I threw it around without even thinking about it. I typed for hours at a computer, flexing the muscles in that very hand without any feeling of exhausting. And I opened many doors, braced falls, held items in this same hand—with this same wrist. Not very often did the appreciation and love materialize for this functioning body part. I mean, why should it, I was working as it should. I hardly even think I was paying attention to it to be completely honest. And so, the laughter ensued, that so often we are so mad, perpetually caught up in the moment with other thoughts, preoccupied with mental worries and fears (that with a bit of release would fade away) that we often miss the preciousness of each moment. That we forgo gratitude for the simple things and forget the miracle of EACH aspect of living.

In the same way I’d travelled for 7 months and began to miss the small moments of driving into a new city, trying new foods, the newness of a blossoming relationship—I missed the full functionality of my aching hand. And in that longing, I realized the importance that presence and gratitude plays in allowing us to cherish each moment as something that is timeless, even as it begins to slip away from us.

In truth, I never marveled as how important being grateful for and counting those simple things mattered until I became a crisis counselor. Depression often starts from huge, (many times) painful moments that capture our attention from the small graces God gives us… Until those small graces don’t even matter anymore, until inner resentment clouds our ability to even see clearly. And its so crazy, so beautiful that it is the small blessings in life that allow for us to have a deeper relationship to our inner-being and God. It’s the recognition of God’s face, this Being’s mastery and compassion in every aspect of Creation that allows for us to practice a deepening in the moment of presence.

It was this presence that allowed for us to return to the Kingdom where our true selves lie and bask in the timeless gift of each moment.

This peace, I wish for each one of us throughout our own inner journeys back into the reality of who we have always been.

Timeless.

PS—Yes, my hand is healing and feels tremendously better. Thank the Creator.

Happy Holidays

Xx

Heaven