It’s the end of Ramadan, and I spent it thinking (at least, when I could).
I have considered some difficult questions—some I have blogged about, some I have not.
I was hoping to arrive at more definitive answers, I suppose. Though, I suspect that it’s the process of questioning that really matters, and that that’s something that shouldn’t come to an end.
Remembering back to those days when I rarely if ever questioned—I thought that those leaders we looked up to, who pontificated on everything from “Islamic psychology” to architecture and spoke in pompous tones as if they knew what they were talking about… knew what they were talking about. And that they held the keys to our salvation. So, I felt duty-bound to stifle any questions that bubbled up from my sub-conscious before they could possibly contaminate my faith. I wasn’t really being honest then, deep down. The results of that were destructive.
Moving on… I am trying to put the shards of what is left back together. That which seems to be worth keeping. And trying to find antidotes to the flashbacks and lasting effects of the past. And I can see from some of the search-terms that people use and arrive at this blog that there are some others out there who are doing similar things. Who knows how many of us there are out there.
Three things seem to help somewhat in the moving-on process—humor (even if it’s more like gallows humor…), art (other peoples’ art, not mine—I can’t draw or anything worth beans) and being in nature. More on those things anon.