Words for mother, lettered / Arathi Devandran

I was going through my wordpress reader, looking at the sites that I’ve been following for long time, intending to do a purge of sorts, a clean up so my reader would show what I’d currently like to read. And then I found this blogger, Arathi, or miffalicious as was once her wordpress handle, though that seems defunct, as she moved to self hosting, which won’t open for some reason. However there was a link to her twitter, and down the rabbit hole I went until I stumbled onto this post written by her, and I just had to reblog it here. It reminds me of why I followed her originally, her beautiful way with words. I wonder where she is, and what she’s doing nowadays…

Anyway an ode to bloggers you followed in your teens.

RIC Journal

Dear Momma,

The strangest thing seems to be happening as I grow older. I am beginning to understand you. And as I understand you, I realise that in many ways, I am beginning to understand myself.

I understand, Momma, that you are not perfect, even though I expect you to be. When you fail, my ideas of what should, and shouldn’t be, come crashing down. And I struggle. I struggle to forgive you for making mistakes, and for throwing me into an abyss of confusion.

And yet, when I do begin this process of forgiving you, Momma, I realise that in actuality, I am forgiving myself. Forgiving myself for the expectations that I’ve placed upon myself and my need for perfection.

I understand, Momma, that you have your own desires and wishes that, increasingly, are so separate, and yet so similar, to mine. We are not the same person, Momma…

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When you are brought low, humble yourself, and rise With Grace

I have cried a lot lately. There are a multitude of reasons for this, I guess the summary reason though, is that this testing ground, we call life, is hard. It has it's delights, but it really has its share of despair and disappointments too! Subhanallah.

To detail my feelings they range from feeling like I fail daily at being a good muslimah, and my inadequacies as a mother, all the way to my shortcomings as a spouse. It doesn't help that pregnancy hormones magnify things to the 'nth' degree and kick your emotions up by a few thousand notches on the intensity scale. I feel disappointed in myself when I'm not reaching my targets, or even just the basic standards of what I expect of myself.

But I had a reminder in the form of LaYinka Sanni's instastory takeover on the sisters in business instagram page. It was much needed, and testament once again to the fact that Allah is the best of planners. I heard what I needed to hear, and upon reflection I've been able to apply the lesson to the current challenges I am facing.

"What was the reminder" the blank white space on my screen curiously asks?

I smile peacefully and carry on typing: "the reminder was this."

That I need to put Allah subhana wa ta'ala forefront at whatever I'm doing, seek Him, and seek His barakaat (blessings) and elevate things so that they are truly pleasing to him!

This reminder makes the utmost sense to me, I definitely believe that success lies this way. So much of what's been going on lately has managed to bring me down and put me in a low place. The great thing about being at the bottom though, is that you are free to taste humility, and also it puts you in the perfect position to rise Gracefully, knowing that there is no power or might except with your Rabb (Lord).

I've even been inspired with another poem/spoken word piece ! Alhamdulillah 😊

Barak'allahu feekum to LaYinka and Hanifa 💖

Putting Allah first in whatever I do means that even when I fail I succeed. I'm able to recognise His decree, and humble myself before what has been written for me. It doesn't mean I stop trying, in fact for me it means I've got to try harder, knowing that I'm working towards a divine purpose bi'ithni'llah.
Putting Allah first means that I recognise that when I'm failing, I am also learning from these pitfalls, and that these lessons are all part of the process. That the insights I pick up when I fall, when I am left to recognise my utter powerlessness before The Creator and His plan for me, should stick with me as I pick myself up and try again.

And that if I reflect I can find even in my most dejecting of failings, places where I have improved, and grown, and progressed.