Tag: sincerity

  • The Sadness of Depression

    The sad part of depression is that you cannot choose happiness for the one that is depressed. It is a choice that only they themselves can make. My attempts at raising the spirits of those that seem downtrodden or just down often leaves me questioning my competence and my significance. But such questioning only lasts as long as it takes for me to realise that it’s not about me, nor are the choices mine to make. I sometimes think the greatest gift to a depressed soul is acting out their potential in plain view of them, without throwing it in their face, regardless of the motivation. But then again, maybe not, because it can so easily be mistaken for antagonism or condescension.

    I’ve slipped into that trap of condescension many times, despite it never being deliberate. That trap where I go off on a tangent and lecture others about why they should have no reason to be depressed, while forgetting that depression is simply a secondary emotion. It is the cloak of what lies beneath. It’s the guard that keeps us safe from facing what we truly fear. At least it has been for me on many occasions. The underlying fear of rejection, or potential of being insignificant kept me recoiled in the safe space that I created for myself. Worse still, the fear of failure on a grand scale that would rob me of any shards of credibility that I was clinging to.

    But it’s so easy to forget all that when I see myself reflected in the weary grimaces of others. Because I’ve seemingly risen above my last entanglement with the darkness, my ego drives me to believe that I’m in a position to tell others how to do it. I’m not. I never was. And I suddenly regret every indulgence that led me to spew unsolicited advice to those that seemed to be in a space darker than my own. I know it’s not what I needed. I know it’s not what turned the tables for me, because no matter how much someone says about the right things to do to escape that darkness, it was only when I detached myself from the experiences that weighed me down that I realised that the experience didn’t define me. The callous or crass behaviour of others was not a reflection of my worth. It was simply an insight into their weaknesses and fears. But they projected it on me, and I was a willing victim because I didn’t believe I was worth any more than they allowed me to be.

    I was wrong. In more ways than one, I was wrong. Sometimes getting it wrong turned out beautifully, and sometimes it drove me further away from reality. But getting it wrong was never the end of the road. It was always the beginning of a new one.

  • Doubting Your Intentions

    The question is often raised about giving up on a good act because we’re afraid that we’re doing it for the wrong intention. I think it’s easy to get caught up in the whole internal debate about whether or not I’m sincere enough, or am I doing this for show, or am I doing it because I enjoy the high opinion others would have of me, etc. But isn’t that exactly the kind of doubt that Shaytaan has vowed to sow in our hearts?

    I think that giving up on an optional act out of fear of having the incorrect intention is one thing, but giving up a compulsory act cannot be as easily dismissed.

    The first thought that came to mind when I read a post earlier about this issue was that sometimes a good thing needs to be legislated for people to be compelled to practice it before they will willingly adopt the practice. After practising it out of compulsion, they realise the value of it and then adopt it willingly as their own choice. Strangely enough, I drew this analogy from apartheid and the steps taken to root out racism in South Africa. But I think the same principle applies here.

    However, like anything new, if we’re constantly reminding ourselves about why we shouldn’t be changing the way we’re doing something, it will be that much more difficult to adopt new ways to get rid of bad ones. Unless we truly believe in the good of the new act that we need to adopt, we’ll keep resisting it and will probably only ever do it if we have no choice in the matter. But when we do something out of compulsion, the force that compels us to do it is usually what we’re trying to appease, right?

    So in my mind, if the compulsion we feel to do something is driven by social pressure, or peer pressure, then our focus will be on conforming to the expectations of society or our peers. But if the compulsion we feel is based on our fear of disappointing Allah, or better still, our desire to please Allah, then the yardstick by which we measure the sincerity of our intentions will be very different.

    The challenge is that our pleasing or disappointing Allah almost never yields an immediate repercussion, whereas disappointing people almost always results in an immediate reprisal of some sort. So the fear of being abandoned or excluded is usually a much stronger motivator to do things, than the reality of the consequences of displeasing Allah. That’s when faith and piety come into play, hence the exponentially greater reward for pleasing Allah compared to pleasing people. When we please people, we will reap rewards in this world. But that will be the end of that reward. When we please Allah, we will often not feel any tangible benefit in this world, but what awaits us in the hereafter extends beyond anything you could possibly imagine.

    So the question really is not about intention, but about instant gratification. We’re either slaves to our desires, which demands instant gratification, or we’re slaves of Allah. And this will hold true in every single moment of our lives, because in a single breath we can go from focusing on this world to focusing on Allah and back again. Hence the need to constantly strive, and hence Allah being the Most Forebearing and the Most Merciful, because Allah is fully aware of these weaknesses that He created in us. Allah loves it when we turn to Him for forgiveness or mercy, that’s why the evil deed that brings us closer to Allah is infinitely greater than the good deed that causes us to focus on winning the praise of others.

  • Those Invertebrates Again

    The disjointed thought patterns are back. Just as I was starting to revel in the experience of being able to think in whole sentences again, it all came to an ungraceful stop today. No. It did not come to a stop, I stopped it. I stopped it because I was tired of the same routine, the same cycle, the same deja moo. You know, those moments when you feel like you’ve heard this bullshit before? That was me today, and yesterday. Oh, hold on, it was last week as well, but I wasn’t paying too much attention back then because my natural defences kicked in and I shut out the noise, like  most people do these days.

    The only words that teeter on the tip of my lips right now, threatening to escape through my fingers, are expletives. Joyous, wonderful, and indulgent vulgarities, because that is all that I can muster to describe the contempt with which I view many people right now. A herd of perfectly postured invertebrates pretending to be sincere while desperately creating smokescreens to hide their pathetic incompetence and unethical behaviour. I need to scream a primal scream that causes a mountain to crumble to ashes so that I can finally let go of the frustration that mounts within me while I wait for people to be true to their stated convictions. I fittingly and deliberately plagiarised that imagery from one such invertebrate I had the misfortune of believing in. But that’s a whinge for another lifetime.

    There has to be a point to this post other than just a rant. If I don’t make a meaningful point, it will reduce my self-esteem to nothingness at the realisation that I just succumbed to the same pathetic pointless existence as most of them. Yes, them. Those oxygen thieves that stop at nothing to secure their selfish needs without any consideration for the sequence of events that they set in motion. A sequence of events that always tramples on the disenfranchised (I can’t believe I just used that liberal bullshit term) while pompously patting themselves on their blubbery backs.

    I despise the world tonight. No, I despise the psychopaths that wear masks pretending to be human when in fact they’re simply parasites in expensive suits worn as a superficial skin that presents a notion of dignity, without conscience.

    This is a haphazard rant. I haven’t been this self-indulgent in a long time. I hate that I work with people that make such indulgence necessary to begin with. But my saving grace is the fact that having a need to vent confirms that I have yet to give up my passion for what I believe in and hold dear. So to hell with the spineless swines. I will not become complacent to be party to their despicable agendas. I really sound like an idealistic teenager sometimes. Damn!

  • In Need of a Label

    Sometimes I feel inclined to succumb to the labelling that makes others feel more comfortable to be with me or around me. Perhaps I should be the stereotype that is expected of me, and assume the position of vulnerability and neediness that would make others feel more significant around me. Labels, stigmas, stereotypes and the like repulse me. It forces me into a pigeon hole and makes me feel smothered and claustrophobic.

    It’s seemingly easier for me to deal with others that don’t fit the mould than it is for others to deal with me. I don’t tow the line when I’m expected to, and I don’t reserve opinion when it would be proper or polite. Instead, at this ripe old age, I still fail to realise that sincerity is not what is being sought, but rather affirmation. Saying the right thing at the wrong time has probably gotten more people in trouble than anything else.

    Such is the double standards of being human. We choose to see others through our insecurities and then lash out when they respond in a way that exposes it. I’m probably a prick of a human being because I don’t see fit to play along out of obligation when needed to do so. I assume that others are as passionate about the truth, sincerity and transparency as I am, and I’ll repeat that as many times as is needed despite knowing how arrogant it must sound.

    Proclaiming not to be arrogant isn’t the same as professing to be humble, which as they say is arrogance in itself. The absence of arrogance is not necessarily humility, nor is the absence of humility arrogance. Both are in fact perspectives that others hold of us which most often would not be true because it’s easier for me to dismiss someone else as being arrogant instead of accepting that I may have failed to engage meaningfully or explained myself sufficiently. This doesn’t excuse the behaviour of those that are inconsiderate morons who assume that the world revolves around them, although having said that, I get the nagging feeling that I just contradicted myself.

    This is a pointless ramble.

  • Society’s Slaves

    People in general will see you as they fear themselves to be, but those with good hearts will see you as they aspire to be. Having been on the receiving end of significant criticism recently, I almost forgot to remind myself of that age old wisdom that says that your actions define who you are, not who I am. And so the same applies with your comments and your criticism.

    It’s rare to find people who criticise sincerely, but more importantly, it’s even more rare to find people who criticise from an informed perspective. Our penchant to want to be proven true about something insightful often leads many to offer their uninformed opinions cloaked in bookish bombast (I’ve always loved that phrase that I know will make people think me to be even more pretentious than before). The truth is, our search for significance drives us towards less than admirable behaviour more often than we’d care to acknowledge, and often even more than we would realise.

    I probably am guilty of much of the pretentiousness that I am accused of, but the truth is, I don’t care since it’s mostly with a deliberate intent. While reflecting on all the criticism that I’ve received lately most of which was subtle and not as overtly obvious as it was intended, I had to remind myself that my inclination to contradict the mainstream is not an adult fetish but rather a trait that has accompanied me and served me well my entirely life. Of course, that is entirely subjective given that many would probably classify me as a recluse, but the truth is, this same attitude of mine is what has seen me through many life threatening and life altering experiences, a fraction of which has literally caused many others to crumble under the sheer burden of it.

    So it’s unlikely that I will choose to change my approach to life, and people any time in the near future, if ever. People have proven to be inconsistent, just like me, because the same way I doubt myself so often, so do they. I guess the burden of being inherently introspective and somewhat socially averse (not to be mistaken for anti-social!) is that it inevitably paints a target on my back that makes me fair game for those seeking to pacify themselves about their own shortcomings and prejudices. But that has had no influence in dissuading me before, and I don’t intend to give it much credence now either.

  • Living Selflessly

    The more I engage with others, the clearer becomes my view of my own dysfunction. Surviving abuse at so many levels across such a broad spectrum of my life while still maintaining my sanity comes at a cost. Only, the cost is rarely discernible by any around me, and often, not even me. 

    I could write volumes about my coping mechanisms and my insane ability to still believe in people and having hope in humanity, but it will make me vomit. And if that is the response it will elicit from me, I’d hardly want to put anyone else through a similar trial.

    People will disappoint and betray as long as there’s stars in the sky and a sunrise tomorrow morning. We’re designed to collide in our needs versus the expectations of others. The more we need, the greater our disappointment. The more we expect, the greater our pain. 

    A selfless life is impossible, because by design, everything we do is motivated by a selfish desire. While those desires may be honourable, noble, or commendable, they’re nonetheless selfish. Altruism is a lie, and philanthropists are just people that trade wealth for respect and appreciation. So it stands to reason that our value must be judged not by our apparent intent, nor our vested interest, but instead it should be judged by the impact we have on others. Regardless of what my selfish motives may have been, if the outcome is positive, it makes no difference what drove me to achieve it. 

    I’ve often realised that even my conscious efforts at maintaining a specific focus in intent or motivation later revealed a less honourable desire lurking beneath. And so I abandon my self-hate and self-loathing so that I can one day be judged more fairly by the one Who created me. Until then, everyone else is just wasting good oxygen offering their opinions about who I am and why I do what I do. They’ll forever be wrong, even more wrong than I.

  • Question – The Distracted Ummah

    eatandbeawesome answered your question: The Distracted Ummah

    i think the most appropriate way to approach this is to bring about a change in one’s own life, which in turn will affect those around us.

    I agree with you completely. The danger is trying to find a balance between this individual piety that seems to be preached by the conservatives, whilst maintaining a balanced and responsible view of our accountability towards our families and communities. Being grounded and self-conscious but knowing when to speak out against what is wrong. It gets even more difficult when we see our elders and contemporary scholars also towing the sectarian lines and the abrasive condescension. 

    Alhamdulillah, it seems we definitely live in a time when holding onto Iman is like juggling hot coals on our hands. 

  • Question – The Distracted Ummah

    naziafk answered your question: The Distracted Ummah

    🙁 you know, i just went to makkah and came back a month ago alhumdullillah. i was one of those people who took a pic there. i felt hesitant.

    Alhamdulillah. I know how tempting it can be. To put my post into context, that was my experience more than 10 years ago, so it’s expected that things have gotten progressively worse since then, let alone the indulgence in materialism around the precinct of the Ka’aba. So I guess squeezing off a single photo with hesitation will hopefully earn you Allah’s pleasure for resisting the temptation to succumb to the urge completely. Insha-Allah your efforts have been accepted. Ameen. 🙂