So sort me out all ready...would ya?

I was born Nov 18, 1968 to a young abused housewife that escaped her poverty stricken family life to wed a soon to be life long alcoholic at the heartbreakingingly young age of 14. The fact that at 14 she viewed marriage as the "better" alternative life choice to remaining among her own siblings and parents says much about what poverty can lead you to do....to do whatever you can to break free from it. Thus she set her course for the life that followed...and mine as well. Long before I was even a glimmer in my mothers eye (or an egg ready to be fertilized) my path in life had seemingly all ready been started for me. It makes me wonder if I ever had any choice in the matter when you come down to it.

I wonder sometimes just how much of life is what we make of it...and how much is what it makes of us? What are the rules exactly and who decides the penalties for failing to observe them? Many of us choose to believe that a Higher Power is in control and makes all the "thou shall nots" and metes out the punishment for disobedient transgressors. I use to believe that too...but Im sort of coming to the conclusion based on evidence abundantly given that life... "just is". Two little words pretty much sums it up....for me.

Religious folk will tell you that everything "happens for a reason" whether we mere humans understand those reasons or not. That God "works in mysterious ways" and we just have to "believe and have faith" that things will work out for the better...either in this life or the next. When you come right down to it....all they are telling you is that...life..."just is"...we cant really do anything about it so leave it up to the Higher Power to sort it all out....and meanwhile we can busy ourselves with prayer in hopes that we can influence the eventual "sorting out".

When I was a child I believed in prayer...at least I believed my whispered words of desperation flew out into the night like a frantic messenger urgently seeking out its recipient posthaste. I never doubted my prayer reached its intended target...even though evidence seemed to negate that belief. Daddy never stopped his hellish ways...never just up and left...never mysteriously disappeared into the night never to return...and most certainly never considered having a full blown and fatal heartattack...even though his diet was rich in all the fatty foods doctors warn against. Despite my many many anguished whispered prayers of reprieve...or salvation...of an "ordinary life"...what ever that was...despite the fact that none of that ever came close to happening...I still believed my prayers meant something...that a Higher Power was listening and determined to get back to me...eventually....but maybe it was all rather abitrary you know...like mail...sometimes the letter just didnt find its way...even when the address was clearly printed and stamp firmly affixed...sometimes the letter doesnt ever get the chance to arrive and be opened because life "just is" and we cant do anything about it.

I know without a doubt that there are plenty of people on the planet at this very moment that wish they had my life...compared to the hell they are living...my life must seem like a dream THEY aspire for. I have my children ...a car...a job (of sorts)..fairly decent health (could lose weight...I know).....and money most of the time...not a lot...but enough to get by. Thats a hell of a lot more than most people have...but if I knew who these people were that might look at my life and envy me...that wish they had what I have and just "pray" for whatever I dont have...I would have to tell them that for sure I have stuff...I have things...I have knick knacks and doo dads...and plenty of whatchamacallits...but I dont have the one thing that I want the most...that one thing that I cry for...ache for...miss with a deep seated pining that no devoted lover ever came close to feeling for a lost love...I dont have faith...belief...that my prayers had any affect whatsoever...that the moment they left my lips they did not fly off into the night desparate to find the One in charge...so He could sort out my worries and rescue me from evil...but instead fell to the floor at my feet with leaden finality...like a balloon that held so much promise but burst...and now is useless...garbage. The longer I have lived and the more prayers that have seemingly ended up at my feet...the more I believe prayers are for nothing...just to keep the sheep quiet and content believing Someone was in charge and keeping track and all would be made fair someday. Despite my faith...my belief...that prayers were good...prayers were needed...prayers were like a form of magic...it seems that life just continuously kicks all that aside and tells me straight out again and again...prayers are for Disney movies and hospital bedsides...but ....life....LIFE JUST IS!!!

Life "just is"...if you can convince me other wise...Im all ears.

Culturally Speaking....my friends

Ive been a long time writer to the local newspaper, the Gulf Daily News ( gulf-daily-news.com ) and have made quite a name for myself along the way. Not always good because I tend to write about things that piss me off about the culture etc...but people recognize my name on occasion and thats always interesting. Ive also been contacted by people far and near that have read those letters and want to get to know the person that wrote them...or just give me a few words of encouragement or praise with urges to keep up the "good work". At any rate...its always nice to get those personal emails etc...when the words you write that mean so much to yourself also have an affect on someone else....well thats just cream on top...so to speak.

Anyhow, one particular American lady got hold of the local paper early last year and inquired about contacting me based on my letters she had been reading while in Bahrain. The newspaper forwarded her request to me and left it up to me to get back with her...I did...eventually....I think it was something like 5 months later...Im terrible at socializing. Anyone that knows me will tell you its true. So I hemmed and hawed for maybe 5 months and just glanced at her email now and then before choosing to ignore it and forget about it for another few weeks...until the day I chose to finally reply...an interesting day indeed.

Her name is Mary Coons...shes an author from Minnesota and was in the process of fleshing out an idea for a book she wanted to write about Americans and Bahrainis...and having read my letters she wanted to meet me for an interview etc...and eventually put my thoughts in her book. To say I was flattered hardly describes it. It just so happened that she travels back and forth to Bahrain because her husband works here...and when I finally got around to replying to her email...she had just returned to Bahrain once again for a visit. So we made an appt for a meet up...and I sweated out some freaked out bullets because Im seriously anti social...did I mention that? Im fine when it comes to writing...no restraint or social politeness required there...but face to face meetings just leave me...shall I say...less than "at my best". I tend to scare people away (their words not mine) because of my unwillingness to smile...or make nice...or just generally be warm and sociable (20 years married to a contol freak that monitored my every move and raged in a fit of jealousy for every smile I had the nerve to let flicker across my face might have something to do with it...you think?)

At any rate...we met up (I took along my best friend...yes I do have one...she found her way past my gruff exterior and learned to love me anyways...for sociable support...shes constantly whispering for me to "smile for Gods sake") and thus our literary journey began...and here is the final result...

Anyone that would like to check out Mary's book can go to culturallyspeak.com and I believe its for sale on Amazon.com as well and is available here in Bahrain at Jashanmals as well. A VIP book launch event is scheduled for 8pm tonight at the Shaikh Ebrahim bin Mohammed Al Khalifa Centre for Culture and Research, Muharraq. Yours truly will be present as well as all those in Bahrain that took part as interviewees in her book. I might add that I had a bit more to do then just be a candidate for interview for her book...my best friend and I have worked with her to get it published and presented to the public in Bahrain as well as get it presented to the local hoity toities as well....so my interest in the successfulness of the book goes a little beyond just letting everyone know my name and opinion were thought good enough to make it in someone else's literary efforts.

The book is called Culturally Speaking: Promoting Cross Cultural Awareness in a Post 9/11 World...by Mary Coons...check it out people...tell me what you think. If you read Arabic an interview she and I did with Al Wasat newspaper should be in there today...I havent checked yet...so not sure....but I do know she's in the GDN today...check her out people.

btw the only opinions in the book I fully endorse are my own..it goes without saying.
I also have no idea why the font size has changed and for some reason wont change back...such is life of a "know nothing about computers" blogger.

update* apparently we are in todays Al Wasat (alwasatnews.com )newspaper but Ive been told the writer who did our interview did not express our thoughts quite as well as we would have hoped. Some harsh words have been spoken on our behalf...but whats done is done. Im not sure what exactly the problem is just yet...but if the interview sounds strange...maybe thats why?

That damn emotion...always gets in the way.

Sometimes...as we lay in our beds thinking...wondering...trying to decide what is the best decision...the best choice to make when both choices will cause pain...we let that damn emotion get in the way. While we sit at a long traffic light and try not to become impatient....we think about our two choices...and let that damn emotion get in the way. When cooking dinner....or taking a shower....or blogging...our minds are always busy...thinking about our two choices...and that damn emotion gets in the way.

When Im looking at you...seeing your face...hearing your voice...feeling your love...I decide emphatically that I will choose one over the other...no doubt about it...no regrets....but when Im alone...seeing only my face...hearing only my voice...feeling no love for myself...I know I have too choose this one over that one...and no doubt about it..... but as always...that damn emotion gets in the way.

Is it better to have loved and lost....then not to have loved at all? Is it better to regret and leave...then to regret and stay? My heart shudders...it pulses and burns with indecision...it nearly cleaves in two...half for you...half for them...is half enough for anyone? ...oh how that damn emotion gets in the way.

I pack my belongings...again and again...but only in my head...in reality I dare not buy a suitcase...for its accusing looks and empty bottom will beckon me to fill it...and fill it I will...an empty suitcase cannot go unfilled...for that is the purpose of a new suitcase bought...yes? An old suitcase can be forgotten...left on the shelf...borrowed to a friend...but a new suitcase....fresh off the store shelf...must be filled...but that damn emotion gets in the way.

How do I make this decision...how can I decide when either decision will surely kill me...slowly...and painfully...every breath I take after my choice is made will stab my heart with a terrible bloodletting...with every stabbing there is emotional blood lost...how much emotional blood can a broken heart hold?...and that damn emotion always always always...gets in the way.

For every beginning there is an end...so why do we begin?

OMG!! that damn emotion!!!

Doing a little reminiscing...

Ive been blogging now for over a year and feel that I have come along way in such a short time...not necessarily in quality of content (I wish...sigh)...but mostly because I started out as an extremely angry Muslim with post such as this one link and this onelink and lets not forget this onelink... and this one... link ....ok ok...I need some therapy....I admit it. I was hopping mad in those days ( I still can manage to reach those levels of brainbusting anger...but Ive decided to care less in order to avoid emminent heartfailure).

Damn! I was just soooo angry back then...and that wasnt that long ago...now a days much the same crap is going on in the Muslim world...but I find myself, rather than wasting blog space on ranting about it...just shaking my head and turning the page. You just get use to seeing the headlines screaming out the latest Muslim atrocity and its a God damned shame that one has to get use to such failure of the Muslim world to step up to the plate and address this constant source of shame and degredation of Islam. All though I can still get irritated enough to post a comment on someone elses blog when I read something I disagree with.

I decided some months back to just let it go really...I have plenty of things to be angry about in my life...Im trying to shed alot of that load because anger just eats you up and leaves nothing behind but bitterness and regret....two very hard pills to swallow at the best of times. I spent most of my life being a fairly calm and patient person because to be otherwise would have resulted in my mental demise...no doubt about that...so to stress and rant about what a large portion of the Muslim world is getting up to just drains the soul on a daily basis...the soul can only be drained so much....I hate to imagine me with a compeltely empty soul...and I must admit there have been some times when I felt really close to that...but Ive always managed to pull myself back from the brink...my soul can thank me later....or not.

Anyhow...my posts became somewhat light hearted at times...occasional ranting focused more on the ineptitude of assorted Ministries in Bahrain or the always rantable driving standards of this little Oasis (not!)...plenty of fodder there and that sort of anger quickly comes...and quickly goes...lifes too short to stress about such things....but Muslims...Muslims just have me down plain and simple. When I spend too much time thinking about some of my fellow Muslims I just start filling up with lots of negative energy and start snapping at everyone around me...its a downward cycle thats best avoided and makes for a happier me...more or less.

I guess the point of this blog...if ever there was a point (debatable I know) is that unless Im prepared to do something about the many many Muslims on the planet that view Islam as a man made (particularly Arab man) code of unethical human rights transgressions then I guess its better to shut the hell up....the ole Put Up or Shut Up! mantra...and really...I find myself caring less and less about what other Muslims are doing...I figure about the best I can do right now...for me...is the occasional comment on a blog...or maybe a bumpersticker that says something pithy like...."For Fucks Sake....They Arent Real Muslims" ..ok...it needs some work...anyway...

more on that later.

So I bought myself some rollerblades....!!!

When I was young rollerskating was the rage. Hardly a day went
by that several kids werent out in the streets getting some much
needed exercise...fresh air...and losing a fair amount of skin in the
process....but it was FUN!!! scrapes and all.


These traditional white skates were the usual picks for the girls and boys generally had the black ones that took about an hour to lace up properly when you first got a pair but once you had the knack you could be good to go in as little as 15 minutes. I loved that feeling of being able to glide along without a whole lot of effort...and then once you had been skating awhile and took the skates off...you felt like you were still gliding in a peculiar kind of way...way cool!


Eventually a new kind of skate came out that only the more "well to do" kids seem to own. These tennis shoe skates were a must have that few of us ever got (at least in my neighborhood). I remember when the girl next door got the first pair on our block...she would spend copious amounts of time doing the laces just right. Another 10 minutes dusting off the leather etc...and then for the most part she might spend as little as 10 minutes actually skating...and most of her time giving lectures to a rapt audience of sweaty faced kids on just how wonderful her new skates were. I was always hopeful she might get bored and decide to give them to one of us someday and Id be first in line...as if!


Well...its been a few years since I thought about rollerskating and when I decided to give my youths passion another go around...what do I find but that rollerskates have long been replaced by rollerblades. Ive always been one that finds it hard to try new things so have been looking far and wide for my old tennis shoe type brands...I prefer my wheels on all 4 corners...easier for balance in my opinion. No such luck though...most people in Bahrain have never heard of rollerskates...my hopes dwindled.I finally faced the fact that it was rollerblades or nothing...so rollerblades it was.

Now the sad fact is my ankles are not quite the slender athlectic tools of my energetic youth as they used to be...5 kids and a forced sedentary lifestyle seems to have sent them packing...so actually finding some rollerblades that could go the distance (around my ankles) was a chore in itself. Those buckles dont give much and the resulting cut of blood circulation to my feet kept the rollerblading attempts to a minimum. But eventually I found a pair that has velcro (the bane of fashion concious people everywhere but a lifesaver to us hard to see our feet type) and Im all set to go.

My first and only foray thus far has been around my living room...all it did was prove to me just how hard it is to rollerblade...images of me just gliding off into the sunset were quickly doused while I clung to every immovable object and cursed my now extrememly weak ankles (must mean I actually still have some since they were singing out loud and clear at this sudden call to action)...but I know that with all things...it takes time. I will do a little everyday...and maybe, despite my gravitational pull that seems to surpass just about every other force of nature I currently take part in...I hope to take myself into the great outdoors eventually. Then again...the great outdoors hold such obstacles as traffic...road construction...and Wahabis...who, as everyone knows...dont take kindly to women doing anything that results in her breathing hard enough to cause her bosom to heave...Lord forbid!


And while I start out as the decidely voluputous character shown above...I hope to achieve the slimmed down version shown here...ah to dream a little dream...







But knowing my luck I will no doubt remain much the same as I am but with a nifty new accessory thrown in just to change things up a bit...life is good to me you know.

Wish me luck everyone....(fingers crossed wouldnt hurt either)

Here's your sign...or is it?

Picture this....I had finally had enough...enough abuse...enough misery...enough pain...just...enough...so I threw myself into a panic on a spur of the moment decision and started throwing things into my car like a madwoman....40 minutes later I was hightailing it down the road with my 4 young kids in tow...wondering if I was making the right decision...or f***ing up my life once again...there was a 50/50 chance for positive or negative answer either way.

So once I had gotten a safe distance down the road...I pulled over and took a moment to just breath and assess the situation....and then I made this plea..."Oh God...if Im making the right decision and not just doing something half cocked again...let me know...gimme a sign." I sat there a few moments longer...just trying to think of nothing really...listening to the kids play in the backseat...asking where we were going....then reached over and turned the radio on before taking off again as I like to hear music when Im driving. The song the was just coming on was called..."I Can See Clearly Now the Rain is Gone"...anyone that heard that song before knows what its all about....making the tough decisions when you feel you just cant...and finding out is was the right thing to do...and reaping the benefits of taking a stand (thats what I get from it anyhow). I sat there...frozen...unable to do anything but listen to that song...take it in...let it swirl and glide all over my body...into my ears...my mind..my heart. It emeshed itself so deeply into my psyche as an answer from God that I still to this day refer to it as my God Song...and I get goosebumps exactly the same today when I hear it as I did all those years ago.

When the song was finished...I sped off...convinced I was making the right decision and satisfied with my choice. (the fact that I did eventually screw up this bid for freedom some 4 months later in no way takes away from the overwhelming feeling that I got my "sign" I was looking for that particular day).

So heres my question dear readers...do you believe in such things...heartfelt pleas and instant answers (or maybe within a reasonable space of time so you just know its YOUR sign) or is it all just random? Did that song come on the radio by chance...or was God or some Higher Power giving me the green light on the drastic and desparate choice I had just made? Do you believe
God answers prayers in such an arbitrary fashion...a song on the radio or
maybe a book opening to the right page...which brings me to another "sign" I may have received....

Still in the same marriage...still suffering pretty much all the same things as before...just a few more years added onto the misery though (I didnt say I learned from my mistakes did I...all though eventually I do...sigh) Anyhow....I was sitting at my desk in my room with hands on head...mentally kicking my own ass about my life and the mistakes I had made etc. Wondering how I had found myself in this horrible marriage on the far side of the moon without a single person to share my misery with...I felt utterly alone. I whispered out a plea to God..."why is it Your will that I be here...now..in this place and time...alone and without support. Why do I have to abide such loneliness?" (for those that dont know...there is a difference between being alone...and being lonely...being alone is usually done by choice...feeling lonely is one of the single most awful feelings there is...especially when there doesnt seem a way to change that condition...an abusive controlling husband relishes and lives on you and your loneliness...sigh)anyhow...I digress. So there I was...pity party very much moving along and doing well...and I had a book on my desk that I was thinking about reading...so I pulled it over and opened it up to a random page. There was a quote at the top of the page...it said..."if you dont like something, change it...if you cant change it change your attitude. Dont complain," by Maya Angelou.

A sign...or coincidence? hmmmm? (I have to admit...this time I took it to heart...and made the changes I needed to make...slowly but steadily)

Now what happens when you dont get an answer...dont get a sign? now thats another post I will be coming to shortly.

Your free to say what you want....but know there are consequences!

I find it interesting in the Arab world that many many members of the govt etc will wax eloquently about new freedoms that are being given everyday across the Middle East. New charters being signed...new laws being enacted that are supposed to satisfy the populace that what they want matters...what they have to say is important...and the right to say it can be undertaken without fear of reprisal...or so we are led to believe.

I also find it interesting that all Arab countries routinely round up those that speak in a negative manner about those "in charge"...however "under the table" that talk might be. Journalists....authors...and even the occasional blogger is made to pay for daring to go up against "the man" or in this case the resident King or dictator...and publish any form of disatisfaction. People are happy dammit and we dont want to hear anything to the contrary...or else pay the consequences. At least we in American can publicly finger point at our brain dead president without fear of reprisal...we even do it live on tv...without benefit of those pesky 5 min delay tactics. Good ole Bush made himself a target by daring to lead the last Superpower on earth...and must deal with and suffer the consequences...would be nice if all these overstuffed...bullet proof SUV driven...cant make a "spontaneous" public appearance without first a weeks advance notice so the "surprised" neighborhood can spruce the place up with greenery and paint jobs....could do the same.

A friend of mine works for the Ministry of Education as a Social Worker in one of the govt run girls schools. She is also a writer for the local Arab paper Al Wasat. She has become rather well known for her sharp tongue and continued ass kicking she routinely pens out about the various Ministries but specifically the Ministry of Education because of its unfair practices...its inability to get with the times and update its education process...and the fact that Bahrains children are suffering from this lack of real concern for their future. She has come under fire more than once for airing her views...even though she has been congratulated over and over again for her valid points and audacity to write on such "scandolous" topics to begin with. In the Arab world...its best to leave sleeping dogs lie and all that...to poke the dog can only result in a vicious bite...and she has been bitten at last.

Rather than listen to her and possibly all those around her voice their discontent at the state of education current in Bahrain...she has been blacklisted and removed from her school of 8 years to be sent to one of the worst girl schools in Bahrain...reputation wise its not just a step down in prestige and status....its a freefall....and one shes not likely to recover from.

All this because she is unhappy with the current policies practiced by the Ministry of Education....and because when her pleas for reform etc fell on deaf ears at the Ministry she decided to take it public and let the people know whats going on...and for this, rather than listen to her...possibly gain some insight and improve their practices, or at least pretend to...she is made to pay for causing "dissent" and daring to present the Ministry of Education as anything other than an efficient concerned authority in charge of this nations youth. How dare she take such a step and not toe the party line...the line of "shut up ....do your job...get your salary...and always smile and praise those that least deserve it" if you hope of ever receiving a promotion etc.

Whats the point of being so vocal about "free speech" and our doors are always open for our peoples complaints...and why sit in your cushy chair and call yourself a Minister of anything if your not prepared to listen to the very people you serve and let their complaints improve your actions...why even bother coming to work if all your going to do is collect a salary....you can do that from home...eh?

Many many people in Bahrain prefer to smile and kiss some "royal or ministerial ass"...but some..a very few...but maybe enough to get the ball for reform rolling...have decided they just cant pucker up any more...chapped lips and all. I hope she stands tough...I hope she doesnt let her family and friends convince her she is "just asking for trouble" by standing firm and sticking to her priniciples...I hope she remembers that she has two daughters that consider the future of Bahrain their future too...and so should make her choices with those two in mind...and not let the concerns of her fellow adept 'ass kissers' convince her she is going to take them all down with her. Would be nice for once that instead of stepping on her and pushing her back down in the dirt of silence...they gave her a hand...and lifted her up on their shoulders...better to see her target...and be seen as a force to be reckoned with. I would hazard a guess and declare that if she were actually successful and managed to make some change for the better with her articles etc...then these same people who are urging her to shut her mouth...would then step forward and reap the rewards of knowing her and maybe even declare her ideas were theirs all along. It seems to be the norm for ass kissers...complain secretly....ass kiss publicly...and enjoy the benefits when other peoples harwork and suffering bring about actual change....but at no time...ever ever...will they acknowledge her as having the right to say these things...and giving her credit for having the balls to say what they themselves are too afrid too.

Go Butterfly...your not alone girl.

To Dream a Little Dream...2

Continuing on from the first dream...I come to the second one that made such and impact on me. This one was several months after the first one and once again was very religious in nature but had a more positive feel to it...and it left me quite breathless and amazed when I woke up from
it.

In this dream I am at the beginning of a very long hallway type thing. This hallway is not meters long but centuries long...its long. I know this without knowing how I know...you know. Dreams are like that. I also know that at the end of this very long hallway something spectacular is happening...but Im not aware yet of what exactly it is. As I start floating down this hallway (yes Im flying of sorts and yes...its cool) I can see along the sides of the hallway different periods of human evolution and cultures etc are presented. I mean actual people are there...like little communities...each acting out a period of time in history....(did I mention the hallway was huge...and long) and as I pass each community I can hear babbling...at first it seems like babbling but then somewhere along the way I realize they are speaking languages...I just didnt realize it of course...but heres an amazing thing...I could understand what they were saying. Dont ask me how I know that but I do...and most of the languages I heard in my dream I have no idea what they were but I coud understand them non the less...the further down the hall I got the more familiar some of the languages became...such as eventually I realized I was hearing French or German etc...but the earlier languages remind me of the language that was in the movie about Jesus that Mel Gibson made...Aramaic I believe...how I know that I dont know...it just felt right in the dream the way things often do.

It was at this point that I realized every now and then I would hear a tremendous crashing sound...so loud and emmense that everything seem to shudder ready to fall apart. I had no idea what was making the sound at first but eventually I realized that the hallway was partitioned off into large sections...centuries large remember...and as I passed a certain point massive doors would close behind me (not directly behind me...but centuries past that I had passed all ready...understand). I also realized that I was speeding up...where as before I was rather coasting along...now I was almost whizzing by...barely able to take in what was going on along the sides of the hallway...but I could still see clearly and still hear the different languages...without really looking or listening (dont ask me...its a dream).

Suddenly my vision speeded up so that I could see way way down the hallway...but I was still centuries back (sorry for the confusion) and what I saw was a light shining down on a pedestal...and on the pedestal was a golden Quran...and pages were slowly turning on the Quran and I could hear massive amounts of languages all jumbled up together...but all saying the same the thing...recitation of the Quran. Each time a page was read...and as it turned...I could see that the lettering was disappearing off the page....so that empty pages were being left behind. It was at this point that I realized there were angels in the room. Mind you this was an enormous room....without deminisions...infinite so to speak...so there were an amazing number of angels...all doing the same thing....writing furiously in books...writing so fast that it seemed impossible that they could be writing anything legible. I also noticed that they each had two pens...one pen had ink...the other had blood (dont ask me how I know...just dont).

So now I return to my body and Im zooming at top speed down this huge hallway...it was then that I know (the way you know things in dreams) that when I reach the end of the hall way...Judgement Day has arrived. I can hear the massive doors crashing closed behind me...closer and closer...I can hear the cacophony of languages but each one an individual as well...and I can hear the Quran being recited and each page being turned...and the light shining down on it getting brighter and brighter.

It was here that I finally reached the end of the hallway...the angels all put down their pens and turned to look at me. Its impossible to believe that millions of beings could be that quiet...but you could hear the proverbial pin drop...the last page of the Quran was turned, recited, and emptied of lettering...and then the empty book that was the Quran no more...rose up off the pedestal up into the light...the angels all looked at it go...and they all had fearful looks on their faces...then all of them...all together...closed their books....even though they closed the books fairly reverently...and Im sure silently...the noise was non the less defeaning...and it was this noise that woke me from my sleep. The amazement I awoke with...still lives with me today...

So what do you think dear Readers...Im interested to hear what you think. The colors and sounds and the images I seen in this dream are like nothing Ive ever seen in Hollywoods best production. Everything was crystal clear and absolutely beautiful...the colors beyond technicolor and the sound effect....damn...dont get me started on the sound effects...it was surreal. Sometimes you just dont wanna wake up...sigh!

To Dream a Little Dream

Its been said that sleeping is a time of rest...downtime for all the stress and worries we have to carry throughout our waking hours. We lay our head on our pillows at night and just pray that the next 8 hours (give or take) are going to be peaceful and non eventful....but then something happens while we sleep. While our bodies get comfortable and prepare to do nothing more strenuous then the occasional turn or stretch...our minds are still on full steam ahead...windows to the soul...our subconcious getting a chance to flex some muscle...our secret desires made real...if only for a time...we call this dreaming. Dreams are not real...they cant affect our lives in any physical way....as soon as we open our eyes the dream is gone...its affects (good or bad) are like smoke...easy to see but without substance. We shake it off...climb out of bed and get on with the day...most dreams are forgotten almost as soon as we wake up...others might linger like forgotten memories for several hours ....and some stay with us for a lifetime. Never to be forgotten...as real to us as any actual memory we may have of an event that we took part in. I have 2 such dreams that have stayed with me long after I awoke shaking and disoriented...or awestruck and breathless. Everyone likes to interpret dreams...give their take on the "hidden message" thats trying to make itself known. We see either doom or good fortune depending on our present mood. Tell me what your interpretation are of these two dreams...lets see what we come up with.

I actually had these dreams in the same year. Ive never had anything even similar to them again...and nothing that was happening in my life at those particular moments seemed to warrant such memorable nocturnal theater. The first one occurred within the first year that I converted to Islam....not sure if that has anything to do with it...but I do know that I was not experiencing a crisis of faith similar to what I am now. If there was a time for that particular dream...now would be it.

Here goes...in this dream I am running from the Devil...or Shaitan as Muslims call him. If anyone ever saw the movie Legend with Tom Cruise...the devil in that movie...big red dude with very large horns...sharp teeth and hooves for feet...that is a fairly decent description of "my" Shaitan. Anyhow...Im running through a fairly barren city...its all destroyed as if a war happened. There arent any other people in this city and I can hear my own breath and stomping feet very clearly. While Shaitan is chasing me he is bellowing out the words "do you believe" over and over again. Each time he bellows those words...my whole body shivers and I want to just stop running and give up....but I keep running. I feel like my lungs will burst...and I can hear him getting closer and closer until Im sure he's close enough behind to touch me...so I run even faster. Eventually I run on to a bus and hide in the back seat. Shaitan finds me of course and comes crashing down the aisle...upsetting seats and he is so large that his horns are scraping the ceiling of the bus. This scraping sound has never left me...I hear it everywhere to this day...and always look around to see where its coming from...anyhow...Shaitan is still bellowing and coming closer and closer to me..."do you believe...do you believe?" He comes right up to my face until our noses are practically touching...screaming again and again..."do you believe!!!" I want to scream back at him that I do...but I hesitate because Im not sure what it is Im supposed to be believing. I have a sneaky feeling its a trick question and that the object I should believe in is Hell...and as soon as I say that I do believe in it...then I will quickly find myself there....so I hesistate....but just when I think my head will explode from the next bellowed "do you believe"...he changes his question to "is your faith strong enough?" As soon as he bellows out that new question...I wake up. Or should I say I jerk awake like someone just hit me with those paddles they use in emergency rooms to get the heart started again...but in this case my heart is pounding so damn hard I seriously feel that a heart attack is eminent. I have never been so afraid in my life...so afraid that I did not want to go back to sleep...and yet it was only a dream. I laid there for 2 hours until fajr prayer...and my heart was hammering the whole time...I was terrified...and still get rather edgy all these years later just to think about it.

I will tell you the other dream in the next post as this one is rather long as it is...let me know what you think dear readers...Im curious. Remember...I was not in fear of losing my deen...I didnt have doubts or unanswerable questions plaguing me like I do these days. I would say those were my best years as a Muslim really...new converts are soooo convinced and secure in their new beliefs...right...so why the dream questioning my faith? Did it mean anything...nothing...and why does it still affect me all these years later...if it was only a little dream?