If there is one piece of advice that will help you through the worst of times, this is it.
Internalise this, connect with it, make it your mantra if you must, but understand that forgiveness on its own, without acceptance, will leave you yearning for retribution or justice.
More than this, acceptance is only wishful thinking if not accompanied by understanding.
We need to understand the motives behind someone’s betrayal of trust, or their indiscretion, or even their neglect of what is important to us or else we’re left with believing that it was intentional towards us.
Most often, we treat others badly because of our demons that are provoked by what they need from us.
Even if we’re justified in treating them that way because of how they treated us, tit-for-tat is an indulgence of the ego and not an investment in rising above that which weighs us down.
Understanding doesn’t mean condoning, justifying, or defending bad behaviour. It simply lifts the burden of not knowing so that making peace with the experience becomes possible.
By seeking understanding, we immediately shift our focus to what they were struggling with rather than grappling with our lack of significance to them.
It is only through such understanding that we learn to accept that people’s actions are a reflection of who they are more than it is about what we mean to them.
And while we’re contemplating all this about others, we need to reflect on our own bad behaviour within the same context or else we will inevitably become like those whom we judge.
Judge less. Understand more.
Peace is within reach.
Otherwise bitterness will be your friend until you meet your end.
#forgiveness #acceptance #struggles #weakness #selfworth #selfawareness #pardon #dignity #sincerity #authenticity #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealthrecovery #ownyourlife #coachzaidismail
Tag: struggles
-

Forgiveness without understanding is virtue signalling
-

What is forgiveness about anyway?
If there is one piece of advice that will help you through the worst of times, this is it.
Internalise this, connect with it, make it your mantra if you must, but understand that forgiveness on its own, without acceptance, will leave you yearning for retribution or justice.
Acceptance is more important than forgiveness, because once we’ve accepted the reality of what is, forgiveness loses relevance.
Accepting things becomes easier when we seek to understand rather than to judge why someone may have treated us badly, or betrayed our trust.
Immediately, the focus is about their weakness and not our significance.
When we learn to accept that people’s actions are a reflection of who they are more than it is about what we mean to them, we’ll have less of a need for forgiveness.
Peace is not possible without acceptance, and acceptance completes the act of forgiving.Don’t only focus on forgiveness, because our need to forgive is driven by a belief that we were the deliberate target of the demons of others.
Understanding their reasons for behaving the way that they did will confirm if forgiveness is warranted, or if understanding is what holds the secret to the peace that we seek.
#forgiveness #acceptance #struggles #weakness #selfworth #selfawareness #pardon #dignity #sincerity #authenticity #mentalhealth #mentalhealthawareness #mentalhealthrecovery -

It’s Been a Year
I almost forgot the anniversary of my protest. The day I chose me, my sanity, and my self-respect. It feels now like it was a sabbatical more than a new path. The enthusiasm with which I journeyed into my new reality hasn’t faded, but it has changed shapes and forms many times over the last year. Walking away from a well-paid job seemed foolhardy to almost everyone around me. Most considered it yet another impulsive decision, but almost no-one tried to understand it for what it was; the same way they chose to judge before understanding so many other decisions that I’ve taken over the years. I can’t hold it against them. Stepping into someone else’s reality is ever more daunting when our own reality already roots us to the spot with impossible-to-articulate fears.
I’ve learnt expensive lessons over the last year. Lessons that cost me financially, and reminded me of the nature of man. The world is so starved for hope that people quickly latch on to the promise of success without considering the commitment needed to see it through. Of these I have encountered many on my journey through life, but only fully experienced the desperation of such souls when faced up close and personal by their demons. Our demons subdue our conscience more often than the threat of poverty. Our demons threaten us with poverty to drive us towards despicable actions. I cannot count, and care not to count the number of people that drew strength from me in their darkness, but quickly disparaged me when they were reminded of their weakness after the sliver of light returned to their horizon.
The sad reality is that most of us settle for the dawn because we don’t believe we’re worthy of the sunrise. Feeling our way in the dark makes the reprieve of the early light appear as relief, or success. Fixated on the fear that the darkness may never recede, the first hints of light promise safety from that torturous space, so we bolt and brace ourselves to the miserable hope that it offers, hope that feels like sublime joy in the face of the darkness that we just experienced, too afraid to push on to the sunrise and the beginning of a new day. The new day remains a dream meant for greater spirits than ourselves, and the slivers of light arrest the fears of succumbing to the darkness again. Half a loaf of bread is not always better than none.
Wrenching myself away from people like that has been a difficult struggle and an unneeded distraction over the last year. Many sang my praises and celebrated me to the world in their moments of upliftment from the drudgery of their existence, but didn’t hesitate to shortchange me the moment the liberty returned to their tired souls. If trials prepare us for greatness, and the aid of the Almighty arrives when things seem most desperate, I have nothing to fear but settling for the dawn in the days ahead.
To settle for comfort and mediocrity when excellence appeared possible was never a choice I considered worthy of pursuit. I am reminded so often of the bitter expressions of darkened spirits that found my language to be flowery, and my ambition to be unrealistic. Recalling it now beckons the aftertaste of betrayal, but the overwhelming sense of sadness that I felt for them when I saw them lash out at the world because they allowed their social structures to define their worthlessness.
A year later, I still have a clear vision of what I wish to achieve, but I remain adrift in finding the correct course to take to achieve it. The pain and anguish of trying to reach beyond the confines of the environment that I am in makes the journey more onerous than it needs to be. Seeing what is wrong with your world and wanting to make it better only feels like a fulfilling endeavour when those who stand to benefit believe that there is something wrong as well. Complacency and fear combine to dull the vision of many. Sometimes it seems cruel to stir the sleeping dogs, yet at other times it feels obligatory if we hope to improve the state of this world before relinquishing our stake to the next generation.
Hope remains firmly footed, but enthusiasm is fading. Purpose continues to drive me to stretch myself beyond the confines of my current reality, but neither purpose nor vision pays the bills. Finding the balance is always a challenge, but not having the comfort of a predictable income makes it somewhat more distracting. Will I find the inspiration, the audience, and the sweet spot before my resources run out, or will I have to yield to the drudgery of capitalism and commoditise myself yet again to remain a functional member of a deranged society? If the last year was interesting, I doubt an adjective exists to fully describe what the year ahead holds for me.
That I have value to offer is not at all in question. I have tested this relentlessly over the years and confirmed it to be true. My challenge is to find a new audience, rather than the jaded ones that look for excellence as defined by the system of mediocrity that defines their lives. I am reminded of this quote:
I must learn to love the fool in me–the one who feels too much, talks too much, takes too many chances, wins sometimes and loses often, lacks self-control, loves and hates, hurts and gets hurt, promises and breaks promises, laughs and cries. It alone protects me against that utterly self-controlled, masterful tyrant whom I also harbor and who would rob me of my human aliveness, humility, and dignity but for my Fool.
Theodore Isaac RubinThat I am a fool to believe in more than life has proven to be possible thus far is unquestionable. But, like village idiots, fools are needed to bring hope to those that have given up on hope itself. The struggle continues…
-

A Long Overdue Brain Dump
Certainty is such a mirage. Predictability convinces me that I have stability, but when the disruption comes, I realise that I was simply taking comfort from probabilities. But that’s what life is about, isn’t it? The probability of everything. The probability of good fortune keeps us chasing and the probability of death stops us in our tracks. The present moment is invested in whatever we believe those probabilities to be.
Sometimes life is so curiously challenging that death looks like a welcome break from the norm. The consistency of struggles and the ease that follows. After each cycle, the struggle that follows the ease is what I preempt, and I lose sight of the ease when I have it. That’s how my tolerance and my tenacity wears down. What doesn’t kill you certainly makes you more brittle. I often feel the brittleness creeping in.
Clarity of thought has been elusive. Moments of inspiration and conviction form and then flee and then form and then flee. Is this what menopause must feel like for a woman? The tease of comfort followed by the taunt of its ugly sister?
I need to revisit my timeline from before seven years ago. That was the last time I wrote anything that continues to resonate with me now. There were a few isolated thoughts that I scribed in between, but nothing worth revisiting in the awkward silence before bedtime. The silence that flirts with the failures of the day and caresses the hopes of tomorrow.
There was a time when I thought in prose. The vivid nature of the imagery my words conjured in my mind before leaving my body used to offer me some respite from the madness of me. Now it simply echoes it. My echo chamber is empty. It doesn’t even taunt me with my own whispers any more.
I’m always on the brink of something amazing. Then I watch an enthralling movie and contemplate the genius of the mind behind the story while questioning the value of my ramblings in its shadow. I need to abandon the legend in my mind before my story will find its own path. I pause at intersections for too long these days. I used to choose a path the moment those intersections came into view, yet now that contemplation continues for much longer after my arrival at that point. Something is amiss and I suspect the answer lies in what is amiss. How do you find an answer that is hidden in the question?
Late night ramblings or early morning hopes carry the same burden of promise and anticipation. Its fulfilment lies in the fading tenacity and resilience of the rambler and thus appear like an iridescent mirage flirting with the horizon but never reaching out. Opportunity rarely reaches out. It most often sits in the shadows waiting expectantly while not revealing any clues of its willingness to be courted or wedded. It’s an obstinate grunt that shuns the smiles of my hope while grabbing my ankles as soon as I turn to walk away towards the next intersection.
This grid of madness grows more uncomfortable each day. Am I the village idiot? The one who has a place and a purpose, but never a captive audience, only a fleeting joy passed on to others while my own cup remains unfilled. Or is that the ingratitude that stifles my progress? The pretense of generosity of spirit that cloaks the need for celebration. I’m not alone in such pretences. I see you, clearer than you see me. But I see me reflected in you and I find it distasteful, that my recognition of your weakness is a reminder that I must know such weakness first to recognise it in you.
This city of solitude is quiet in all the wrong spaces, and rowdy where it matters least.
-
Final Moments
I’ve always believed that if we were to live a long and painful life, and in the end, in our last few moments, we experienced the absolute serenity and completeness of everything we sought to experience or achieve in our lifetime, the entirety of the pain and struggles of our lives would be easily forgotten. It would still feel like a complete and beautiful life, because the intensity of the struggles before that point would directly inform the intensity of gratitude and peace we would feel when experiencing it. But only if we live in the present moment. Otherwise we’ll lose that beautiful moment cursing at its late arrival while still yearning for the past to have been different.Zaid Ismail
-
Reverse Engineering Life
It seems that I’ve wasted most of my life experiences during the years when I quietly contended with the upheavals in my life and moved silently forward without making a fuss of what I wanted, nor questioning why it always seemed to happen to me. Through no deliberate effort on my part it strengthened me, even though I, and many around me, often perceived that strength as numbness. There were times when I chastised myself for not having a more emotionally grounded response to the suffering or trials of those around me, but I was also often reminded that it was that very same numbness that allowed others to draw strength from my apparent composure at times when they felt overwhelmed.
I think there’s a value in having such an emotionally disconnected person around at times. It’s a reminder that not all is lost when all seems lost. But that’s not how most people viewed me, and fortunately my default demeanour of being oblivious to the perceptions that others held of me meant that it didn’t affect me much either. Despite this awkward sense of comfort I had about being able to deal with my reality in ways that caused many to question my sanity (quite literally at times) I felt a growing dis-ease regarding the fact that my experiences were being wasted because it only seemed to benefit me, and no one else. In doing so, it further distanced me from those around me because not many could relate to me just being me.
I slowly experimented with using my experiences as a point of reference to try to relate to the emotional burden that so many people seem to drag around with them, and each time I tested my observations for accuracy and relevance, I found that it was quite effective in providing others with an alternate perspective as to why their situation was not as grave as it seemed. All this clutter continued to swim around in the back of my mind for many years until I considered it slightly differently recently when someone once again asked me why it is that I am so calm and composed during moments when others are literally overwhelmed or panicked.
My usual response was to dismiss it and smile while telling myself that I’m incapable of feeling such emotion, but that uncomfortable feeling in my gut kept nagging at me because I knew it wasn’t true. I am probably more emotionally sensitised than most people I’ll ever meet. (Note I said sensitised, not sensitive!). However, my innate focus on wanting to emerge from trials rather than how to cope causes me to look behind the emotion and focus on the steps needed to overcome it instead. In doing so, it’s inevitable that I got accused of being insensitive because most people look for sympathy rather than guidance when they’re down and out. I think it validates our weakness when we receive sympathy, while tough love reminds us that we’re being pitiful instead of bold. Victims versus masters. Scarcity mentality versus abundance mentality. They all talk about the same thing. You either want to prevail, or you want to be admired for having persevered when others would understand if you failed.
It’s that unhealthy need to be recognised for our strength in our struggles that often leaves us rooted in our struggles rather than motivating us to overcome it. We find comfort in knowing that others know how much we’re hurting because there’s a natural embrace of compassion or sympathy that often accompanies such visibility. That embrace is often from those that are equally or more weak than we are because they draw comfort from being able to comfort others that are similarly afflicted. This must all sound so cold and dismissive, but it’s not intended that way. I’ll say it again. Sympathy has only ever made someone feel better about being in the state they’re in, while tough love is what pushes them to move forward. Soliciting sympathy in times of weakness is the poison we don’t need.
That’s when I realised the value of being sensitised rather than sensitive. The value of reflection rather than expression. Reflection allowed me to observe what lessons I had learned from past experiences, and what markers were associated with them, while my outbursts, my anger, and my need to make others understand how bad my state was so that they could empathise with me only ever served as a distraction from moving forward and letting go of the past. That’s when I started looking for the tell-tale signs in others relative to what I witnessed in myself when I went through similar experiences, and the more I identified it, the more I was able to accurately interpret what they were experiencing, why they were experiencing it, and what they were contemplating in dealing with it. Not because I knew them well, but because I knew myself well. And that’s how I started consciously reverse engineering my own life experiences with the aim of understanding the trials and struggles of the people around me.
So when we’re told we see our faults in others, we need to go beyond just understanding that it implies that every finger pointed at someone else means there are several more fingers pointing at ourselves. This is more valuable and important than that. If we go beyond the rhetoric and the vilification, we’ll see that every struggle of ours is in fact a resource to alleviate the struggles of others. It’s not the sympathy that matters most, but the compassion coupled with the resolve to raise them out of the depths of despair that we once experienced that will add more value than any amount of sympathy ever could.
However, the irony of helping others out of the dark spaces in their lives is that when they emerge, they’re often inclined to avoid you because you remind them of a time when they were weak. Most people think such weakness is deplorable, they are the ones that remain weak. It is only the grateful that see their moments of weakness as being the source of their strength. They are the ones you should surround yourself with because they will offer the hand of compassion concealed in a glove of tough love when the ingrates will revel in your weakness because it makes them feel better about their own pathetic selves. On that note, don’t expect to be surrounded by too many people at all, because a cursory look around you will reveal that this world is overcome with ingrates who are obsessed with what is in it for them, rather than considering what they need to contribute instead. Incidentally this brings to mind another thought that occurred to me this week. That is, sincerity is rarely reflected at the moment of giving, but most often reflected in the behaviour that follows. And so we should be careful of seeing those that sympathise with us as being sincere, because very often they are the ones that accuse us of thinking that we’re better than them when we let go of what held us back, just because they’re still holding on to it in their own lives.
(This was a particularly challenging post to write, for reasons that I have yet to figure out!)
-
Dua When Desiring Death
Anas (May Allah be pleased with him) reported that: The Messenger of Allah (Sallallahu álayhi wa sallam) said, “Let not one of you wish for death because of a misfortune which befalls him. If he cannot help doing so, he should say: ‘O Allah, keep me alive as long as You know that life is better for me, and make me die when death is better for me”.
Al-Bukhari and Muslim
-
Sometimes
sometimes, they’re just beaten into submission
and we assume their lifelessness is actually death
when in fact, they’re just cowering out of fear
hoping that no one will notice them
but then they wither away because they were not noticed.
sometimes, we find that the smallest things have the greatest impact
but fail to notice that the small things were actually the big things
but we were too distracted to notice.
sometimes, life happens while we’re making other plans
sometimes, death happens while we’re making other plans
sometimes…we over-think life while forgetting to live




I’ve always believed that if we were to live a long and painful life, and in the end, in our last few moments, we experienced the absolute serenity and completeness of everything we sought to experience or achieve in our lifetime, the entirety of the pain and struggles of our lives would be easily forgotten. It would still feel like a complete and beautiful life, because the intensity of the struggles before that point would directly inform the intensity of gratitude and peace we would feel when experiencing it. But only if we live in the present moment. Otherwise we’ll lose that beautiful moment cursing at its late arrival while still yearning for the past to have been different.