On Leaving

So few are the days that remain, and it saddens me so. There is a great fear, a dread inside of me of what is to come, of going home. Of leaving here. Leaving all the people here. Leaving all I do here. Leaving that warmth and security. Leaving and perhaps not coming back. Leaving the intimacy. The knowledge that I am wanted and desired and missed. Leaving everything behind. I dread this. To go home. Why is it so dreadful? Because of my fears of loneliness? Because I've lived in loneliness most of my life? Where will I get my support? Where will I find people who want to be with me, who love to be with me? Who "like me"? Who listen to me and value me and my words? Who give me hugs? Who embrace me? Where? What with all the limits and boundaries?

I will miss you. But not you. What you've given me and what I've taken. That I will miss. But you. Your persons. Your inward selves. Will I miss those? Will I miss all the difficulties I had dealing with you? Will I miss all the complications?

I will miss you. So much. I cry now, because I won't be able to see you again. I won't have that pleasure or displeasure. Do I even know you? What are you to me? What do you mean to me?

I love you like I love the rain that pours in tiny drops on a spring evening as I walk amidst the grassy meadows of my beloved land.

Why must we always part from those we love? Why is our emotion frowned upon? Why are our tears rejected? Have I loved you truly? Have I set you free? Have I bound you to me? Have I striven to see you as you are? To hear you? To accept you? To help you? To enjoy you? Have I let you be free to come and go as you please? Have I tied you up and thrown you in a maze? Have I maltreated you? Abused you? Used you? Refused you? Have I put upon you a weight of burdens too heavy to bear? Have I forced you? Manipulated you? Made you feel guilty? Rejected? Undesired? Difficult? What if you were? What if I have done all this? Have I loved you truly?

Switzerland

map of Switzerland given to a friend

أنا و أنت

أنا و أنت

معاً

في قفصٍ

لا يوجد مخرج

أنا لن أذهب

و لا أنت

قد نهرب

قد نختبيء

قد نؤذي

بعضنا

و لكننا معاً

في قفصٍ

أنا و أنت

معاً

قد نرفض

قد نعترض

قد نتوهَم

بعضنا

و لكننا معاً

في قفصٍ

أنا و أنت

معاً

قد نرى

قد نقبل

قد نحب

بعضنا

و نحن معاً

في قصرٍ

أنا و أنت

معاً

في جنَةٍ

أنا و أنت

معاً

في بيتٍ

في قلعةٍ

في حصنٍ

و نحن معاً

أنا و أنت

معاً

و لا يوجد مخرج

و لا داعي لمخرج

لأنَنا

أنا و أنت

معاً

أنا رجا

و مِنِّي يخرج الكثير الكثير

أنا رجا

و أنا مُستَتِرٌ

مُقيَّدٌ

مُختَبيءٌ

مُنتَظِرٌ

و مُنتَظَرٌ

و روحي تَطلُبُ

و لا تَجِدُ

ولا تهدأُ

و طَفلي مُستَسلِمٌ

مُنطَرِحٌ على أرضٍ

و السّماءُ فوقي

و الغيومُ مُبحِرَةٌ

و الشَّمسُ دافِئَةٌ

و الهواءُ بارِدٌ

و لكنَّ القلبَ أبرَدُ

و العَقلُ و النًّفسُ و الدّاخِلُ

داخِلٌ لا يَخرُجُ

و الغيومُ و الشَّمسُ و الهواءُ

خارِجٌ لا يَدخُلُ

و العينينُ، و العينينُ

نَحوَ السَّماءِ،

إلى السَّماءِ،

إلى العلوِّ

و السُّموِّ

و حُرِّيَةِ الحَرَكَةِ،

تَنظُرُ

Prayer: A Promise of God's Presence

"He knows that our ability to trust has been disfigured by all the promises made to us but never fulfilled"

Dear God,
I don't know whether I'm with you on this journey or not. Sometimes I feel like I am. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know you. It depends on who I'm with, and what they believe. It depends on my mood. It depends on many things. I don't really know how to trust you, or how to know you, or to believe the things you say. I just appreciate that you don't mind me saying whatever I want. That you understand more than I do. That you know the way. Help me to trust you, to learn how to do that, to really look to what is important to find you.
Amen

Prayer: A Promise of Change

"God promises to change our hearts, to take away the stone and replace it with flesh"

I desire to have a heart of flesh, God, though it scares me. It makes everything more intense, more painful, more penetrating. I don't know if I can handle it. Take me a step further, as I learn to treat myself as another. Give me a bit of flesh. Let me learn and know your meanings. There is much pain and sorrow, but there is also joy and celebration. There is hope, and both are human. I want to feel both, to know both. Not to be consumed by my own pain and needs. I want to know joy and happiness, hope, and celebration. Love. The things I do not really know how to experience, see, nor feel. These I ask of you.
Amen.

Prayer: To Carry on & Persist

"Healing is a new style of life that we continue to work on everyday"

Dear God,

Indeed, how often do I get discouraged, and feel lacking in energy, because everyday there is a struggle against the same things. And even after long periods of time, and change, it is still possible to revert to old habits, old thinking patterns, old ways. I forget that it's a long process, little by little, and step by step, and brick by brick, each day. That each day and what we do in each matters for tomorrow, matters for what we did the day before. Help me to remember this. To remember that each day I can lay another brick. I can take another step. Help me to train myself in speaking the truth, in expressing and admitting my feelings, and in allowing myself to have good relationships based on love. Help me not to lose hope when I go back to older things. Help me to keep trying.

Sometimes I can't see your love. I can't understand it. I won't accept it. Help me to change. Help me to allow myself to meet you along the way. Meet me along the way. Help me when I run out of energy and strength. Show me how to live in such a way that I can carry on, and continue everyday. Help me because I deceive myself a lot. Help me to see things the way you do, as a part of a historical context. Without masks. Without lies. Without unnecessary complexities. Without naive simplicity. Help me because I'm too dependent on other people. I want to change that. I want to be like you. Like Aslan. Not controlling, able to stand alone, yet loving and needing others, and involving others. Full of life and purpose. Full of strength and beauty.

Amen

من أنا؟

أنا رجا

و أنا أقوى

أنا أكبر

أنا رجا

و لن أسمح لنفسي أن تتهاوى

أنا رجا

و أنا أحب ما هو صالحٌ

و إن لم أكن أحبّه

فأنا أريد أن أحبّه

أنا رجا

و الطّريقُ طويلٌ أمامي

و الظّلامُ حالِكٌ

لكنّني سأمشي

سأُكمِّل

لن أقفَ هنا

لن أرجعَ للوراء

لن أخافَ من كلِّ شيءٍ

و من أيِّ شيءٍ

بل ممّا يُخيفُ فعلاً

عندها سأخاف

أنا رجا

و أنا بهاتين اليدين

سأُعيدُ و سأستعيدُ ما فقدّت

سأثقُ بفكري و بعقلي و بخبرتي

لكنّني لن أكون متكبّراً

سأتعلّمُ الصّلاحَ

سأتعلّمُ الحبَّ

سأستمتِعُ

سأتكلَّمُ

سأُعطي

أنا رجا

و أنا سأتحكّمُ بعالمي الدّاخلي

سأُحصي أفكري

سأُقَلِّلُ اعتمادي

أنا رجا

إن سقطتُّ سأقوم

إن أخطأتُ لن أكره نفسي

بل سأدفعها للأمام

إن تعِبتُ سأرتاح

أنا رجا

و لقد حان الوقت

لقد حان الوقت

أنا أكرهُكِ

أكرهُكِ

أكرهُ ضَعفَكِ

و هَوانَكِ

و خُضوعَكِ

و عارَكِ

أكرهُ نِفاقَكِ

أكرهُ سُجودَ الكِلابِ

أكرهُ رذائِلَكِ

أكرهُ ألمَكِ

كُلُّكِ ألمٌ لا ينتهي

كُلُّكِ ضَعفٌ مُتجدِّدٌ

أكرهُ من صنعكِ

و من شكَّلَكِ

أكرهُ أفكارَكِ

و مَشاعِرَكِ

أكرهُ تَكرارَكِ

خُمولَكِ

و بلادَتَكِ

و خوفَكِ

و انسِحابَكِ

أكرهُ أباكِ و أُمَّكِ

و تاريخَكِ

و اختياراتَكِ

أكرهُ ما أنتِ عليهِ اليومَ

و ما كُنتِ عليهِ

و ما تؤولينَ إليهِ

ما الّذي يأكُلُ عقلي

و فِكري

و روحِي

كُلَّ يومٍ؟

هي هذِهِ

أنتِ

و كُلَّ نَقائِصَكِ

The Constant Gardener by John Le Carré

Friday 6 July 2012

I watched the Constant Gardener last night after having finished reading the book a few days ago. The film did not meet the book, but if a person has not read the book he will think it a good one. It made me think again of Tessa, Arnold, and Justin, and for those minutes before I went to bed it was all I could think about. Tessa was all I could think about.

Arnold...they tied him to a tree, hacked at his body, cut his penis, and cut his tongue, and put the penis in his mouth, hung him from the tree...crucified him.
Tessa...they raped her several times...then killed her...They killed Justin too.
Why?
What makes a man do such things? Give someone else so much pain...so much suffering?
Make himself above another man, and decide his destiny...decide his way of death, decide his amount of pain...
I realized how afraid I was of that...How I did not want it.
Is this what God calls us to?
This is what happened to Jesus...they beat him up, mocked him, convicted him for nothing, tore his skin open, spit on him, nailed him to a cross, and killed him, without a word of defiance or an act of self defense or heroism on his part.
God must be crazy if he's calling us to this, if he's calling me to this, if this is what Christianity is.
Sure, he "saved the whole human race", and Tess, Arnold, and Justin saved a few human lives. But I don't want people to cut me up and torture me, and kill me, just because it's for someone else. Like Dusty in To End All Wars. Is it the right thing to do? Yeah, probably. Do I want it? Hell no.
I'll leave it to the saints, and to those who love, and those who care.

WaterColor : First Attempts

"فإنّنا نرى آبائنا كيف يسلكون في الحياة، فنسلك مثلهم، رغم أنّنا ربّما نمقت ما يفعلونه، لكنّنا مع ذلك نفعل بالمثل ما يفعلون. و هذا لأنّ الإنسان يتعلّم بالمشاهدة، أي أنّه يشاهد آخرين يسلكون بطريقةٍ ما، فيتعلّم منهم نفس طريقتهم في السّلوك, إنّه يشاهد الكبار يفكّرون و يشعرون و يتصرّفون، فيتعلّم الحياة من خلالهم."

If I have not loved

Then I have nothing at all

And I am nothing at all

If I have not loved.

If I have not been loved

Then I have nothing to give

And no reason to live

And nowhere to call my home.

Because love is the ground

That I'm standing on.

It's the shelter 

After a journey long.

It's mom and dad.

It's God and blood.

It's me.

It's you.

It's love.

In Memoriam

Wednesday 7 March 2012

I got really sick last evening around dinner time. I went to my room and got into bed because I felt so cold as if I had a fever. I had a bad headache and I felt like I was going to throw up. I of course became very bitter, and I just wanted to be away from this place and be back home. What made it worse was when I got Bill's message saying that Osama Fahel committed suicide. I felt a bit of the same feelings when Jamal died. That fear, helplessness, and the question "Why?".

I don't know him that well. I have an image in my head of who he is, but i'm not sure it's the same person. That kid in youthgroup, who was awkward, and had lots of pimples on his face, and was learning to play drums, and he was loud and annoying when he played. I played with him a few times. He used to ask me to play with him. I think I talked to him a few times. I think the last time I saw him was when he called me and asked me to come play music at his sister's wedding. Maybe that was last summer. He also played drums with me. He was all dressed up, and he was a bit unsure of himself and he asked me if I thought that he had done a good job. He gave that impression, being unsure of himself, and a bit shy and awkward. What would lead a young man to kill himself? To take his own life? I don't understand it.Underneath the shell of shyness and awkwardness was a destructive force that led to his death. What could cause such a force to come into being? It crushes soul and spirit. What chance does life, does survival have in its presence? Is this force at work within me? Goodbye Osama. Tou Trar. Tou Trar.

مع السَلامة، يا أسامة.

ذهبتَ، و لا أعرف أين.

لن تعود.

لن تُساعد و لم تُساعد.

لن تُوجَد و لم تُوجَد.

فُقِدّتَ و فَقَدّتَ و لم تُفقَد.

لم تعرِف و لم تُعرَف.

لم تُحِب و لم تُحَب و لن تُحِب.

Prayer: 3 March 2012

God,

Please help me to return to a state of consciousness and discipline. Every time I open this notebook, I am challenge in such a way that leaves me running away. I am so distracted, so blind, so deteriorating, so careless, always losing sight of what is important, so proud, and conceited, so judgmental and full of prejudice.

Please help me find the way of life, the way to life. Help me return, rebuild, regrow the things that I left to die. I feel so sluggish, thick, like my mind has lost its potency, like my eyes cannot see the light, nor the beauty and splendor of the world. I feel that my heart is cold, empty, lifeless. It knows awe no longer and feels not passion, nor does it love. It is no longer humble, and truth is no longer my pursuit, nor my goal, and in its presence I cannot stand but hidden when I would rather have stood naked and ashamed so that your forgiveness and love and acceptance can cover me and keep me alive and warm.

I am not your man, I am not one who pursues you, nor one who loves you or what you have made. Life is mostly misery to my twisted thoughts. I cannot see things as they are. I cannot see myself as it is, as I am. I cannot see what you would have me be, and if I can I shrink from you and deny you and despise and question you and call you cruel and ruthless for ever causing me an ounce of pain. Therefore, knowing myself in need of something which I cannot exactly identify, a power, a strength that I need everyday, a love that I can fall back on to, I need your help, I need your help so I can help myself, so that I can enforce the things I learned in my time here, to always stop and confront myself and my thoughts and analyse their origins and refute those that are lies, to venture into the world to test myself and my presuppositions about who I am against the reality of the world and thus build a small slow base on which these two feet can stand. To love another person, to take interest in someone else, in their well being, in helping them, in sharing with them. In all these things I need your help, I need your reminders of their value. I need to see again their sanctity, and their value. I am not ready nor am I willing to give up all the things you would ask me to, all that you would ask me to hate, to leave, to dissociate from for the sake of knowing you, and being united with your son. I am not even what I want to be, I am no longer who I thought I was, nor have I ever been.

Please help me to see you in all things, in all moments, give meaning to my life, meaning that is not made up, meaning that penetrates all the clutter and shadow that surround my heart, soul, and mind, that reduces my paralyzing fears to nothing. I need you God. I do. I am enslaved to my thoughts and my body. I only care for me. I need you because of selfish desires and reasons, because of fears, because of cowardice, because of laziness, in twisted ways I need you. Thus it is not you that I need, it is an image of you drawn by me. It is not you that I desire, that I long for. I would run from you, because you are so good and great. You are full of light, full of life. How could I stand with you? Away from me God, away! The words of my mouth and the thoughts of my heart are but lies, deceit, and self deceit. But, return, do not leave my drowning. A part of me longs to live. A part buried underneath, hidden from the sun, its voice is weak, its presence is unfelt. I need your help, I need your help, I need your help. I need your strength. I need to feel better. I need to see the opportunity and grab at it.