I feel as though I should write a post. So here it is.
Weekend was sleepy. Most of the week was sleepy. I've been kicked off welfare. I can contest the decision, but that would mean more stress. Oh, I don't know.
When I read my numerology report, it makes me wish all of the good things would actually happen on the days it says they will happen. Especially when they say that romance and love are strong, someone admires you, you will meet someone new and important, good for career and work, misunderstandings are cleared up. I'd say it's about 17% accurate. Which is pretty crappy.
I love my friends, by the way. All of them. The ones who call me and say "I don't want it to be a week without having either spoken to you or emailed you." My God. That touched the bottom of my heart, tickled it and sent ripples of love and joy throughout my entire being.
Then, yesterday, Umair was online, so we were sending emails back and forth. About random stuff. And Armughan. And French toast and Tolstoy. We're odd like that. And then he sent me more photos of the kittens his cat in Karachi just had. And he puts the subject heading as Kitte 1, Kitte 2 and Kitte 3. Which I find endearingly cute. He's just so comfortable being whoever he is. Not self-conscious at all. I'll get there, too.
So, yes. Imran wasn't exactly the only male to have been thoughtful enough to send me animal photos. He's just the one I chose to fall crazily, obscenely, rudely in love with.
I've decided to give myself a break, be kind to myself and fall out of love with him. For real, this time. Permanently. He came into my life for a reason. And the time period is over now.
I've burnt all bridges. Beyond repair. Hastily, without a second thought. Swoosh, smack, bang: all gone. And I keep telling people about how compassionate, mindful and spiritually aware I'm trying to be. Or how I don't want to hurt or insult him. And how much I respect him. Ha.
I'll stop thinking about him soon enough. When I keep grounding my energies. And taking back my energies from him and swatting back his energies to him. (This will all make a lot more sense when I write my next blog on "le savoir augemente", as it's a bit too airy fairy to put it on "o healer, heal thyself").
Honestly, this year, the Chinese year of the Metal Tiger, had better close up shop soon. So much weird-ass stuff has happened. I have done so many things. I accused him of being a Jekyll/Hyde, did I not? Point one finger, three point back at you. At least he's never yelled at me the way I have. I would never want to speak to him again if he'd ever said any of the things I've said to him. I've said a mouthful and then some. All the while thinking I was being dignified and restrained and honourable. Such delusions!
See, this is what happens when you live in your head, not in society. And when you slack away from salaat and from reading stuff like the Quran, or Nahjal Balagha or Imam Zain's Treatise of Rights. And stop acting upon them.
Which is why he's not speaking to me at all now. And this time, I'm pretty sure it's forever more. What I've doen is pretty difficult to forgive and forget. And I accept that.
Earlier this evening, on the drive back home from the mosque after Sheikh Arif's lecture, I was sitting and reflecting. The questions are the same:
"How could I have done all those obscure, odd, crazy-ass things? Sending him blogs, telling him I loved him, not getting the fact that he didn't like me enough, that we were completey incompatible, that I didn't even see it going anywhere, or that if I was yelling and snapping at him all the time, there was something desperately and disastrous going on here?"
Also, how could I have ever accepted being dumped by text? I know that's the one golden rule. If I know nothing else. You never dump a person by a text message.
My overbearing rudeness, lack of akhlaq and general ill-manneredness just sprung to the forefront and has possibly obliterated any good thoughts or opinions he might have had about me.
I was still in love with him. Or in like with him. Or... look, it's those damned planetary movements.
I feel sane now. So, why couldn't I have felt sane two weeks ago and been civil?
How difficult is it to be civil? He told me so in the very beginning.
Why do I get so angry and aggressive with all men? There's something seriously deep rooted here, nothing to do with what's gone on in this lifetime. What happened to me in this lifetime does not justify the obscenely high level of hate, mistrust, shyness, sexual attraction and general venomous attitude I have toward men.
And one of my tarot cards said that if I'm still stuck on an ex, I can't open my heart and my life to attract the new guy who's my next soul mate in waiting (let's hope he's the twin flame, I've had it up to here with soul mates!)
So, rationally, there's no reason to be hung up on him. So why am I?
Argh. Here, Imran, take back all your energies. Stop making me think of you. Detach from me. I obviously am too weak to do it properly.
And, after listening to Sheikh Arif's lecture tonight, it makes me wonder: how on Earth could I have allowed myself to attach so much to a man, a boy, a person - while forgetting Allah all that time. Not forgetting Him, but forgetting what my true aim was.
No true, honest, reasonable love would have overshadowed my desire for God. Never.
It would have complemented it. I would have been more rational, more forgiving, more into it all.More expansive.
Enough said.
This was plain addiction at best, idolatory at worst.
I know nothing.
All I know is that I'm still blinkered beyond belief. And, in my quest to get closer to Him, I'm in a place far, far away. I know I'll get back. Just wish I would hurry it up, learn what needs to be learnt.
Avoid the temptation to be rude at all costs.
There's one. Learn it. BE IT. No matter how angry you are or how maltreated you feel.
You're not the be all, end all. You're a speck. Life happens to every one of us.
Sigh.
All I know is that I have to do all this with the first man in my life. My father. Then only will I be able to bring true love into my life.
Wow, another light bulb flash of understanding. What fun.
Weekend was sleepy. Most of the week was sleepy. I've been kicked off welfare. I can contest the decision, but that would mean more stress. Oh, I don't know.
When I read my numerology report, it makes me wish all of the good things would actually happen on the days it says they will happen. Especially when they say that romance and love are strong, someone admires you, you will meet someone new and important, good for career and work, misunderstandings are cleared up. I'd say it's about 17% accurate. Which is pretty crappy.
I love my friends, by the way. All of them. The ones who call me and say "I don't want it to be a week without having either spoken to you or emailed you." My God. That touched the bottom of my heart, tickled it and sent ripples of love and joy throughout my entire being.
Then, yesterday, Umair was online, so we were sending emails back and forth. About random stuff. And Armughan. And French toast and Tolstoy. We're odd like that. And then he sent me more photos of the kittens his cat in Karachi just had. And he puts the subject heading as Kitte 1, Kitte 2 and Kitte 3. Which I find endearingly cute. He's just so comfortable being whoever he is. Not self-conscious at all. I'll get there, too.
So, yes. Imran wasn't exactly the only male to have been thoughtful enough to send me animal photos. He's just the one I chose to fall crazily, obscenely, rudely in love with.
I've decided to give myself a break, be kind to myself and fall out of love with him. For real, this time. Permanently. He came into my life for a reason. And the time period is over now.
I've burnt all bridges. Beyond repair. Hastily, without a second thought. Swoosh, smack, bang: all gone. And I keep telling people about how compassionate, mindful and spiritually aware I'm trying to be. Or how I don't want to hurt or insult him. And how much I respect him. Ha.
I'll stop thinking about him soon enough. When I keep grounding my energies. And taking back my energies from him and swatting back his energies to him. (This will all make a lot more sense when I write my next blog on "le savoir augemente", as it's a bit too airy fairy to put it on "o healer, heal thyself").
Honestly, this year, the Chinese year of the Metal Tiger, had better close up shop soon. So much weird-ass stuff has happened. I have done so many things. I accused him of being a Jekyll/Hyde, did I not? Point one finger, three point back at you. At least he's never yelled at me the way I have. I would never want to speak to him again if he'd ever said any of the things I've said to him. I've said a mouthful and then some. All the while thinking I was being dignified and restrained and honourable. Such delusions!
See, this is what happens when you live in your head, not in society. And when you slack away from salaat and from reading stuff like the Quran, or Nahjal Balagha or Imam Zain's Treatise of Rights. And stop acting upon them.
Which is why he's not speaking to me at all now. And this time, I'm pretty sure it's forever more. What I've doen is pretty difficult to forgive and forget. And I accept that.
Earlier this evening, on the drive back home from the mosque after Sheikh Arif's lecture, I was sitting and reflecting. The questions are the same:
"How could I have done all those obscure, odd, crazy-ass things? Sending him blogs, telling him I loved him, not getting the fact that he didn't like me enough, that we were completey incompatible, that I didn't even see it going anywhere, or that if I was yelling and snapping at him all the time, there was something desperately and disastrous going on here?"
Also, how could I have ever accepted being dumped by text? I know that's the one golden rule. If I know nothing else. You never dump a person by a text message.
My overbearing rudeness, lack of akhlaq and general ill-manneredness just sprung to the forefront and has possibly obliterated any good thoughts or opinions he might have had about me.
I was still in love with him. Or in like with him. Or... look, it's those damned planetary movements.
I feel sane now. So, why couldn't I have felt sane two weeks ago and been civil?
How difficult is it to be civil? He told me so in the very beginning.
Why do I get so angry and aggressive with all men? There's something seriously deep rooted here, nothing to do with what's gone on in this lifetime. What happened to me in this lifetime does not justify the obscenely high level of hate, mistrust, shyness, sexual attraction and general venomous attitude I have toward men.
And one of my tarot cards said that if I'm still stuck on an ex, I can't open my heart and my life to attract the new guy who's my next soul mate in waiting (let's hope he's the twin flame, I've had it up to here with soul mates!)
So, rationally, there's no reason to be hung up on him. So why am I?
Argh. Here, Imran, take back all your energies. Stop making me think of you. Detach from me. I obviously am too weak to do it properly.
And, after listening to Sheikh Arif's lecture tonight, it makes me wonder: how on Earth could I have allowed myself to attach so much to a man, a boy, a person - while forgetting Allah all that time. Not forgetting Him, but forgetting what my true aim was.
No true, honest, reasonable love would have overshadowed my desire for God. Never.
It would have complemented it. I would have been more rational, more forgiving, more into it all.More expansive.
Enough said.
This was plain addiction at best, idolatory at worst.
I know nothing.
All I know is that I'm still blinkered beyond belief. And, in my quest to get closer to Him, I'm in a place far, far away. I know I'll get back. Just wish I would hurry it up, learn what needs to be learnt.
Avoid the temptation to be rude at all costs.
There's one. Learn it. BE IT. No matter how angry you are or how maltreated you feel.
You're not the be all, end all. You're a speck. Life happens to every one of us.
Sigh.
All I know is that I have to do all this with the first man in my life. My father. Then only will I be able to bring true love into my life.
Wow, another light bulb flash of understanding. What fun.
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