A poem about finding friendship, oneself, and God.
Over the years, I became accustomed to a lonely life inside my shell– It had become my second-nature to retreat when all just felt unwell. I felt dejected because like other creatures, I couldn’t run, climb or fly. So much so, in challenging times, I didn’t even give it an honest try. Instead, I crawled back into the confines of my boxed, bosomed shell– choosing to survive day by day, with not a single adventurous tale to tell.
One day in jaded June, I basked under the searing sun. I drifted off for a moment, only to awake next to someone! I peered timidly at the stranger, resting quietly beside me– Her pleasant patterned carapace was quite the sight to see! I wondered if she knew just how perfect and polished she seemed, The sun’s radiant rays made her soft leathery skin glitter and gleam.
Her whimsical webbed-feet were unlike anything else I’d seen before. I pondered silently to myself about what she might use them for. Without a warning, she opened up her glassy, jewel-toned eyes. She dove fearlessly into the opaque pond, much to my surprise! My heart fluttered restlessly, as I feared for her safety below. How could she simply jump in, without letting anyone else know? What if she drowns dismally or gets stuck in murky mudflow?
I shook inside my shell, anxiously waiting for her emerald head to emerge The water’s surface stayed silently still while my panic began to surge. “Please, God,” I prayed passionately, “please let her be alright.” “I’ve waited so long for any sign of Your eternal loving Light.” The sun’s final rays danced daintily across the lulling lake, in the midst of their beams–I finally saw a reflection I couldn’t mistake!
Her intricate shell appeared iridescent just below the serene surface; She gracefully glided to the top, and took a deep breath in with purpose. Following her lead, I remembered to finally let out my stifled exhale. Sighing with relief, I watched in awe, as she fearlessly sailed.
She played peacefully in the welcoming water, confident and headstrong. Oh, how desperately I, too, wished to find somewhere to belong. It became clear to me that the wonderous water was unmistakably her home. I realized that the very shell offering me shelter had also left me feeling secluded & alone.
Feeling ashamed, yet again, I retracted back into my comfortable cage. This time, however, its darkness left me brimming with rage. My mind became a roaring arena full of angry, self-loathing talk. Mindfulness slipped away, and her presence was something I forgot.
Suddenly, I felt a powerful push–followed by a startling splash! I found myself in whirling waters, and began to helplessly thrash. I saw her silhouette near the shore, crawling carefree as could be, “Swim!”, she urged spiritedly, “You are a lot like me!”
ME?!” I thought, restlessly, “she must not be able to see.” “Just focus on your breath”, she said “and you, too, will feel free” “You’re wrong!”, I gasped between plunges, “I can’t do this at all!” She reminded me so sweetly, “but, you’ve already survived the fall.”
I watched the wholesome water warmly wrap itself around me, like it was awaiting my return. It enveloped me into its eager embrace; reminding me I was no unfamiliar extern. The familiar fear I lived with everyday with felt frivolous once I could see– –the dreary decades drifting away simply reflected my faithlessness in its steadfast security.
The comforting current cradled me, for the water had constantly carried me along. Surrendering to its steady support helped me to feel that I was inherently strong. I cried; I laughed—because I hadn’t felt much of anything in so long. But most of all, in that moment, I finally felt what its like to truly belong.
The majestic creature dove back into the water, and helped me swim back to shore. “Look!”, she declared, as we crawled out, pointing towards the lake’s alluring floor. I turned around trying to find what it was she wanted me to look for. Once I finally caught a glimpse of it, it was a sight too spellbinding to ignore.
I peered timidly into the water, marveling at a reflection I did not recognize. I stared at its perfectly patterned-shell, and soft skin with awe and surprise. “Wow”, I whispered, “It’s breathtaking–especially in the water’s blue hue.” “Of course she is,” smiled the truthful turtle, “because that, my friend, is you.”
I know I’ve been posting a lot about the “highlights” of my journey. However, I don’t want to promote toxic positivity; in reality, my journey really has been a roller coaster ride; ever since I found out that I had PCOS, which naturally perpetuated insulin resistance, my world and body have made a complete 180.
Or that’s what I’d ideally like to think.
I have made some serious changes to my diet and exercise. The amount of discipline I’ve dedicated to restoring my health has been somewhat of a shock to me. Honestly, at the beginning of April, I wondered if I’d ever be able to stick with a routine.
Don’t get me wrong. I AM proud of myself.
But, today is just not one of those days I feel that way.
Have you ever cued into your body’s messages and realized that something feels off–like you’re off-centered, or off-balance?
Yet, for the life of it, you cannot seem to pinpoint the concrete event that triggered that feeling in the first place.
Today, I’ve been experiencing unsettling sensations in my body. I can feel, intuitively, that something has triggered me; however, I can’t seem to place my thumb on what that trigger was. These icky sensations have started to manifest themselves physiologically as well.
I feel like I got hit by a train today. That’s especially strange since yesterday was a rest day; my body “should” be feeling rejuvenated but it doesn’t. I’ve felt more fatigued today than I have in the last 30 days. So much so that I had to call out of work as I was barely able to wake up.
WHAT IS GOING ON WITH ME!?
It’s so strange because if I witness my mind, I can catch myself wandering towards self-sabotage. An odd feeling; I encourage everyone to try it. It’s like having an out-of-body experience. You start having thoughts like:
Whoa! “Maham” really wants to act on the urge to self sabotage. “Maham” is feeling really upset. “Maham is wanting to act out.”…
Speaking of acting out, I ate all the carbs I could today.
Even though, I knew they would make me feel horrible. And they did.
My body literally sent them right back up, and out. And you know what I did afterwards?
EAT MORE CARBS.
WTF
So with that knowledge, most would find it reasonable to go on a run, take a good pilates class, or engage in some HIIT; most would move towards the direction of improving their present situation.
But not me.
I have continued lying in bed, in and out of sleep, literally paralyzed with this insidious feeling of unease.
And it’s not because I have no one to share these painful feelings with. It’s more of an inability to ACTUALLY get myself to a place where I feel courageous enough to be seen & heard.
It feels like crazymaking when you can acknowledge the support system around you, and STILL not utilize it.
This “off” feeling is undoubtedly affecting my relationship with Ayrah– which honestly leads tomy feeling even more worthless.
I swear, children are so intuitive; nothing gets past them. I’ve seen it happen with infants, toddlers, elementary school children and even our middle schoolers. Similarly, I can try and put on my best facade for Ayrah, but she can read right through the BS to my true energy.
The million dollar question…
WHY has some part of me become hellbent on destroying the progress I’ve made?
I…don’t know.
that is the most authentic answer I can give to all of you and myself right now.
I don’t know about yall, but not “knowing” makes me feel even more nervous. Uncertainty and I still are building a relationship. On my best days, I’m able to tolerate it. That’s it though.
There has been no embracing it with open arms or making it an ally 🚫
and then I get so HARD on myself….!
I “should” know right? I “should” be able to pick myself up out of this one random overcast day, right?
I should–especially because I have a Masters in this “mind stuff”. I’ve been taught the stuff to say, the interventions to use, given the worksheets to utilize and skills to practice….
If I was trained & entrusted with helping others walk through their uncertainty & triggers, shouldn’t i just be able do it for myself???
……
But I can’t.
THAT is the confounding paradox.
Something is wrong. I don’t know what it is. But, I feel it with such a powerful intuition! For my yogis, and reiki companions, I feel a palpable blockage in my throat and heart chakras. It’s like there’s a disruption between what my heart is feeling and my ability to communicate it to my environment 🌏
It feels like there is a frog in my throat. Like each time I attempt to speak up, the “cat gets my tongue” and I’m left a blubbering mess.
I feel similar to what Hansel & Gretel might’ve felt–I’m trying to find my way to a specific, concrete destination while not knowing where/what it is.
It’s interesting becauseI can tell my body is trying to communicate with me. I find the unsettling somatic sensations analogous to the bread-crumbs that Hansel and Gretel dropped on their path. They are clues that are meant to lead me back home. These visit sensations are trying, relentlessly, to communicate with me. They are constantly alerting me of the deviation from our natural emotional homeostasis.
I don’t know about you, but I often find myself starting to let shame slip through the doors during times like this. It’s hard not to.
The inner critic takes center stage and starts declaring these statements that sound ludicrous, that are ludicrous, and yet somehow…they still affect me.
“Omg! You ate a mini can of Pringles today…all your progress is ruined.! You’re a failure. Save yourself the dissapointment of keeping up with a healthy diet or workout routine, because we both know you’re going to fail. Do you want to feel that worthless again? So stop while youre ahead.”
When I type it out, it sounds crazy; I know it does.
What’s even crazier is that when it’s not typed out–and instead, fired directly from my brain to my body, without enough time for reflection, I actually start to BELIEVE the unreasonable monologue.
I know that a lot of people who have experienced trauma go through similar experiences. Trauma tends to fragment our thoughts, emotions and sensations in an attempt to protect us from overwhelming pain. The final part of trauma recovery involves the integration of these “compartments” and I can’t honestly say that I have completed full reintegration. Sure, there are times when I feel more integrated than others. however, at times like this…I feel at a loss
.
Many trauma researchers have theorized that painful emotions during a traumatic event usually get stored in the body as tension and pain. If not treated, these may lead to the onset of physical diseases.
Consequently, it makes perfect sense that the body could experience discomfort long before the mind can subconsciously pull out, and identify the focalized trigger or cascade of events that caused the unsettling sensations in the first place.
If you haven’t already, I highly recommend my friends undergoing trauma recovery to pick this book up. It is a life changer!
Sigh– since I’m at a loss, I’m going to throw it out to you guys!
What do you do if/when you feel this way?
I am trying to practice self-compassion but I feel so much shame—especially in the motherhood arena.
I get Ayrah only during the holidays so I put this extra pressure on myself to ENJOY and spend every single moment with her. It’s unrealistic.
and when I’m unable to do so, I feel like I’m a horrible mother. i feel like a failure. I feel like I’m inflicting these massive, irreversible wounds of abandonment or trauma in my child. But I KNOW that children are resilient. I KNOW that you don’t have to be the perfect parent; you just have to be ENOUGH. But KNOWING those things is not enough to stop the distorted thoughts from morphing into deep shame.
“Look at you…”, my mind snarls, “you go teach other parents’ kids all day long–you give them your best, only to come home to your child completely depleted, drained, and grumpy. She gets to have ethe worst of you. Great job, Maham.”
“And oh yeah, let’s not forget that you don’t even get for the whole year. She’ll be gone by the end of the summer, probably thanking God that she doesn’t have to be around a wreck of a mother.”
Thoughts like these create that dreaded negative feedback loop, where my belief of failing keeps me from being authentic and present with my child. When I’m not transparent with Ayrah, she can sense it and I know she can sense it. That just results in my confirming the “belief” that I’m a “failure”. And round and round we go…
till it bleeds into every and ANY interaction I have with my wonderful, magnificent daughter.
For now, I’m going to ride this wave out, let the emotions move through me, deliver their messages and move OUT of me. I want to keep you all updated as it helps me stay accountable.
In the meantime, I’d really appreciate any advice, ideas or suggestions about how you’ve managed to stay “relatively” sane through these ” emotional ruts”. And if you don’t have any, it would mean so much to me if you could practice enough vulnerability and share similar struggles that you may have had. Brene Brown, renowned author and sociologist, states that the most POWERFUL words we can communicate to one another during a time of pain or shame are “Me too”. I believe this is because it helps normalize the icky feelings we all may feel from time to time. For me, it lets me know that I’m not crazy or alone in feeling these ways at times. I hope its okay to KNOW what to do yet still not quite have mustered the motivation to actually implement it.
Would ❤️ to hear from you,
Till tomorrow—here is to hoping I don’t eat the entire Costco box of all the Pringles containers by the AM 😉
Ever walked into the middle of a movie—no clue as to what was happening prior to you seeing it. Why is that guy trying to kill the other one? Who is she, and why is she carrying a baby alligator around? Huh?
Our very existence is like watching a movie from the middle. We woke up in this world one day, with no recollection of where we were before—no recollection of where we came from, how we got here, and why we’re here.
If we’re lucky, we awoke to two “somewhat functioning” adults holding us, and helping us. And perhaps along the way, they decided to bring some other equally confused little aliens into this world. We begin to call these people “family.” Who are they? And why does it seem like they have our whole lives planned before we even can form our first words?
“What am I doing here?” Slowly, we begin to learn how to produce certain sounds that we associate with abstract objects—we call this language. We begin to communicate about things that are happening; in fact, we become so well-versed, that, some of us begin to spin poetic metaphors and literary allusions into masterpieces, which serve to capture the essence of this confounding life. These will be known as our greatest writers.
However, no matter how many literary tactics we employ to mystify and obscure the concept of human existence, we cannot, with full certainty, pinpoint the answer to the ultimate question: why are we here?
Some of us decide to gain some certainty through pulling on teachings of age-old religions, and others simply turn to testaments of our own experiences. Regardless of where we find our illusion of “certainty”, the inherent perplexity of human existence remains glaring.
As a therapist-in-training, I have some awareness of the unfortunate prevalence of addictions in our world. Yes there are the evident ones such as alcoholism, eating disorders, substance abuse, and self-harm. But then, there are also those faint addictions—the addictions that tend to get “normalized”, as they are more accepted by society. These are the addictions to other people, the addiction to things, the addiction to abstract concepts such as success and accomplishment.
I would go as far as saying that, to some degree, every single one of us is an addict. Workaholics, workoutaholics, codependents, hoarders, sex addicts, money addicts. We become addicted to our partners, to our children, to “best friends.” That’s not the end of it. Some of us suffer from addictions that are intangible—we become addicted to attaining fame, beauty, success.
Why is human existence marked with coming in and out of different addictions? I truly and wholeheartedly believe that it is because our very existence has been out of control. All the preceding addictions are mechanisms that we use to deal with the lack of control we had in our very own existence. No entity asked for my permission before I was born. I don’t recall me signing a document instating my birth. Out of the millions of choices, why did that specific sperm have to fertilize that specific egg to create ME?
This brings me to the point of this blog: CHOICES.
They are beautiful burdensome trinkets. Regardless of circumstances, everything comes down to choice. They say “10% of what happens to you is life, and 90% is how you choose to deal with it.” I am in complete agreement with that statement. The world could be crumbling outside, but I will possess have a choice in how to react to it. Every single thing comes down to choice. “Not making a choice” is also a choice.
Let me tell you about an interesting experience. 19 years into my life, I realized that I had not yet made the active choice to live. HUH? I had become a passive bystander in my life—just letting life do whatever it wanted. “The greatest choice you will ever make is the one to live. Most people simply just exist.” And that’s exactly what it came down to.
It wasn’t so much that I “gave up” on life, as “giving up”, in itself, is an active choice. It was more like I had, simply, chosen not to choose when it came to matters of my own being. I didn’t wake up and DECIDE to be happy. Instead, I let the day’s events dictate whether or not I would feel happy. It was as if, i was (and still am (to some extent)), a leaf that was just blowing around in the wind—untethered to a stable source. For 19 years, I remained unanchored to the robust, secure tree of personal choice. Circumstances dictated my mood, my self-worth, my ambition, my energy—my life.
For 19 whole years. I didn’t even once affirm “regardless of what this day brings, I choose to act in a manner that increases inner peace and happiness.”
And then, I met my husband.
Needless to say, he found me scattered at my most vulnerable, confused state of being. In a lot ways, I was undergoing an identity crisis. “Which parts of my life are truly “mine”? I questioned “Which parts are the ones that I actually chose?”
I never did find the answers to those questions. I stopped looking for them. Instead, I made the very first choice I consciously remember making.
I chose him. I chose my husband.
It’s ironic because our marriage was arranged in nature. I remember the day I chose as clearly as if it were yesterday. I remember, sitting in my blue summer dress, on the sidewalk, barefooted. My husband and his family had just left my house, after seeing me for the very first time. I was 19. I was frightened, uncertain, unprepared, shaking.
A picture of me in my blue dress FROM that very day
I liked him. It felt right. I think. Maybe? What if it isn’t right? What if he’s not the one? What if this is going to be the biggest mistake of my life? Oh my goodness, it is isn’t it? I will regret this forever. Don’t do it. Do it. Don’t do it. Do it.
My dashing thoughts were rudely interrupted by the chirping of a bird. Annoyed, I snapped back to glare at him. And there he was–eating some seeds off the middle of the road, completely at ease, unaware of his agitating chirps. In the distance, I heard a car approaching–it came closer. Closer. Closer.
My heart jumped into my throat as I fretted fearfully for the bird’s life. “WHY ISN’T IT FLYING AWAY!? Is it DEAF!?” I winced, as the car came within touching distance of the bird, and boom. There he went. He flew towards the sky. A few moments after the car passed, the bird swiftly returned to the ground and began picking at his seeds, completely at ease–completely unaware that his life had just been in danger.
I exhaled loudly and stared with wonder and perplexity at this seemingly “unintelligent” creature. And, as it’s beady black eyes met mine, a bizarre thought crossed my mind. “What if I’M the unintelligent creature?”
As human beings, we spend all day and night fretting about what could go wrong. We approach every scenario as if it is one of life and death. For some of us, it is. Many of us are truly brought to “life or death” circumstances, in which we’re spared right at the nick of time. However, so few of us ever focus on the fact that we were spared. WE ARE ALIVE. Instead, we stay inside, worried, afraid to ever go back out “on the road” because we are afraid of the next car that will drive by.
I remember laughing at my fearful thoughts regarding the encounter, and I clearly recall looking up to the sun gently setting in the sky. “In this moment, I CHOOSE to be with this man!” I declared assertively, hoping to convince any higher power that may have resided up there.
I wasn’t going to let life happen to me. In that moment, I chose my husband, and in choosing him, I took an oath to doing all that I could do to make it work. I took an oath to not giving up when things got hard, and above all, I took an oath to go into the marriage FEARLESSLY.
This brings us back to the familiar concept of fear. So many of you may question things that I have questioned before Should I even “fight” for my life? Am I worth fighting for? Do I want to take charge of my life? “Um. Maham. Duh. Shut up. OF course.” These may be answers that seem simple and easy on the surface, but how many of us can honestly say “yes” to them in a manner that is as fierce as a racehorse running, full throttle, out of the starting gate?
Oh honey! Courage is not the absence of fear. It is simply the presence of something MORE powerful than fear. So, the horse passionately runs. It does what it would naturally do, no knowledge of what comes next; he courageously gallops out of the gate, no preoccupation with what’s ahead. He does what he loves to do.
My sweet friend, this is about life being ahead of you, and you making the choice to run towards it courageously! Will you do something for me?
I want for you to figure out what you desire—it could be anything, big or small. Figure it out. Verbalize it. Write it out, and declare your intention to the universe, as I did 4 beautiful years ago.
And now, think of the racehorse. There is no going back. You can only move forwards. Just RUN towards what you want fearlessly—no doubts, no preoccupation with what could go wrong, no energy wasted in thinking about “how hard it’s going to be” or “how long its going to take.” Nobody ever accomplished anything by fretting about how “impossible” it was going to be. You’ve done harder things, and the time will pass anyway. Just run. Run towards it, with arms wide open, and a heart brimming with excitement! Get ready to catch your dream, because, the entire universe and it’s cosmos is running back, towards YOU—the world is so excited for you two to finally meet. Your dream is not a separate entity from you. It was yours. It is yours. It has always been yours.
abidmaham 