I can hear the birds, and the quiet in the air before a storm. I see the gentle movement of the leaves and the dead branch hanging form the pine tree, a reminder of the ice storm when every thing around me became a crystal forest.
I can eat, drink, sleep and walk without aid. I am deeply thankful! Yet I have become more and more aware of the open door with the darkness behind it. With every sunset I am getting closer and closer to it. I look at my friends and they seem unaware of not only its proximity but also how every sunset brings us closer to it.
The mystery of what lays beyond it along with the uncertainty of where I will land fills me with anxiety. I feel I know enough about the world beyond it, to have trepidation as to where I might land.
Silently I measure the distance between the door and me with my eyes and mentally compute what I have and have not done to secure a safe haven beyond and find myself wanting.
Will Allah suddenly take pity on me and rescue me like a Prince Charming as he has done almost all my life or will he show His Jalal like he did on the night that Tariq died and there was no going back.
I am floating, I want to anchor, rack up more hasanaat but as the door gets closer I seem to lose momentum, energy and hope that I will ever be able to rack up enough. After passing through the door where the spirit separates from the body, I am aware that there are the Gardens on one side and the Fire on the other, in between lies fallow land of which I had a glimpse once, waiting to bloom.
All day and night I waver between these sentiments and at the end of the day I lie down, my body exhausted with useless work, my mind spinning with work undone and sleep overcomes me.
Where will I be going? I truly do not know anymore. Sages say ask your heart. My heart is tired of dunya it says let go! Let go of all the schedules, tags, programs, forced litanies, efforts to please yourself or others and perceived acquisition of hasanaats and…………… just BE.