I will write as I feel and as the words pass and as they come and as they go. I no longer feel the need to write for an audience as I do not find gratification in their collective praise. I only want a listening ear to what befalls me and do not care if that means you might see me as less than what you knew before. Perhaps this is the essence of humility. Perhaps this is what it means to humble yourself and it is a sign to be unmoved and indifferent to the opinions of others about yourself. With time, as we begin shedding parts of our shells for others to see our insides we begin to question if those who loved us really loved the essence of who we are. Our core.
I no longer write with the certainty I wrote before. And some may think that this is a sign of lack of confidence in myself. Perhaps so. But more than anything this is my way of being human. I see my limits so clearly now. And yet there is a horizon of truth and knowledge still yet to be consumed. I have yet to see.
I bother very little if not at all with putting on some sort of spectacle to comfort those around me. I will not be overwhelmed anymore with accommodating for everyone for the sake of proving myself or showing that I am not at all what they might come to believe. I don't care what they hear. Neither do I care what they say. My truth is with my Lord and it is the only truth that matters to me.
Life has beaten us down and has shaken us up as it is. Why must we try to resist with phony versions of ourselves? It is tough enough to live as a human that is bombarded with casualty after casualty. Must that not be sufficient to remind us of our mortality? How much more must we endure until we say that is enough? And until we finally utter the words, "I surrender". I surrender to the All Knowing. He who knows everything about every little thing. He who is vast and encompasses all that exists and possibly could exist.
While I let parts of me become small such as my power, dominance, social standing to name. The biggest thing I make small and perhaps diminish completely is my past. Although it is the place where I find room to reflect and understand myself with, with others I seem to completely forget any trace of it. I am a person being made by the moment; I laugh, cry and smile for the first time. The child that looks me and smiles is smiling upon another of his own, who is delighted and overwhelmed with joy to have been acknowledged by another.
I am humble when I cry. It is when I let tears fall down my cheeks and weep in the shadows where everything is concealed. It is when I remember that there exists only one entity that may possibly know of the pain I feel while I do so. And this is why I cry. He alone understands and the thought of this leaves me so overcome with emotion. This little creation of His cries and pleads and He listens. He who encompasses everything that ever was and ever will be, listens to me.
Alhamdoulillah. Alhamdoulillah. Alhamdoulillah.