It’s what this life is, isn’t it. The fight. The grapple. The struggle.
I’ve been thinking a lot about struggle and the patience required to get through it. Thing is, we bring ourselves a lot of pain by attaching ourselves to things and beings and moments. Why do we rely on the temporary to measure our happiness?
I don’t write much about my faith, but it’s Ramadhan and it feels right.
Here’s the thing with struggle. It’s tough and sometimes feels impossible to get through a really low point, but there’s something revitalizing about being knocked down. I often find that when we have nothing else to lose, we become most reliant on Allah (swt), on God. I wouldn’t wish anyone to hit rock bottom, but when you’re at such a low point, the du’a, supplication, that you make somehow feels so much more genuine, so much more raw.
Because at that point, who else do we have to depend on? When all of our worldly homes have been demolished, when our minds have reached a point of turmoil that seems beyond reparation, we become no more than a plain human being in our purest form. Being knocked down forces us to relinquish our materialistic fixations and remember what’s important. It’s reaching that point where you realize that not much else matters. Without worldly attachments and nothing but the skin on our bones and a God to call upon.
I’ll tell you one thing, I’m nothing close to a perfect Muslim, and my connection with my faith has gone through a lot. But I can honestly say that I don’t feel my du’a is ever stronger or more sincere than when I’ve lost something. Be it an opportunity, a person, or a peace of mind. I don’t know what this says of me but it reminds me that
فَإِنَّ مَعَ الْعُسْرِ يُسْرًا
Verily with hardships/difficulties comes ease [Sûrat Al-Inshiraḥ, 94:5]