Tag Archives: spirituality.

The Emotions of Storytelling Part 4: Alone-ness

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem

Assalam alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatahu!

I’m deep into a comedy pass for Whose Wife Is It Anyway.

But I keep getting distracted. The past few weeks I’ve been distracted by sudden illness and moving to Rhode Island. (Which is beautiful and awesome and only 3 hours away from New York, which I have always wanted to visit, but that’s a story for another time.)

I wanted to get back into it. To do the best I can with the very limited time that I have.

That means not just locking the door to my home and my workspace, but to my heart too.

Locking the door to my home and my workspace is accomplished easily enough. Literally lock the door and the windows. Hide the TV remote (we didn’t have a TV in our home back in Denver, but we have one in this hotel room) and disconnect the Internet.

Locking the door to my heart? Now that’s a tough one.

I’m going to guess that everybody has different things that get under their skin.

For me, it’s outrage.

Something happens. Somebody is forced to endure a racist or sexist incident or otherwise dehumanized in some way.

This usually makes me upset. Very upset.

And so I’ve sworn off the Internet (to a great degree), especially Facebook and Twitter. Someone else will have to fight a few battles extra – I’m sure there’ll be quite a few voices to take my palce.

Talking to certain people drains me. Some of these people, I can’t avoid. But others I refuse to speak to, until May 5th (Yes, I know the Nicholls and Sundance deadlines are May 1st. I need a few days’ holiday, okay?)

Performing certain household tasks drain me. This is where it helps to be married.

Performing certain other tasks drain me – but really I can’t make my husband take my place at the dentist.

Sure, all of this can get a little lonely. That’s why I open the doors again after six pm and let everyone and everything in.

I usually spend the time before dinner and bed in quiet contemplation more than arguments anyway. Writing is emotionally draining enough as it is!

In any event, I think it’s a good idea for everybody to be okay with being by themselves and alone with their thoughts. It’s been the defining struggle of my adulthood – learning to love and trust myself. That battle, I’m still fighting everyday. But I think, I pray, I hope that I am much further on than I used to be.

I’m focused on finishing this project. It’s going to be done God willing! Done, done, done! I really can’t wait to put it out in to the world and see what happens.

Now before anyone comes charging in to pee on my parade, I am fully aware that it’s not likely to gain much or any success. But I’ve learned SO SO much from writing this movie, it’s a huge success already in my book. Ain’t nobody going to take that away from me Insha Allah. I’m sure the feedback I get will help me figure out what areas need work in my next projects.

My brain has been buzzing with ideas lately – mostly with left-field romantic comedies. I find myself getting distracted from my 1-location screenplay Birthday Cake (haven’t even started writing that one properly) by these ideas.

It’s a little annoying. But I’m going to count that as a blessing. Better too many than no ideas, right?

Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. It’s after 6 pm and I can open my doors again.

Wassalam and Fee Amanillah,

The Happy (to be alone) Muslimah!

 

 

 

 

 

 

Art is worship Part III: Relaxation

via http://www.freedigitalphotos.net

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem.

Assalam alaikum wr wb, sister or brother.

I am going to do something I don’t do enough. I am going to be honest.

Brother and sister, I am truly too exhausted to make art.

It’s been a draining couple of years. My life has felt like a train-wreck and I have been trying desperately with my petty mortal hands to control it.

I have expected situations to be different but they haven’t been. I have expected people to behave a certain way but they haven’t. Things have changed when I had hoped they would stay the same. Things have stayed the same when I have prayed they would change. But the details are unimportant.

My feelings are not. I have disappointed, sometimes angry, exhausted all the time.

I’m sleeping like crazy. I can’t eat. I can’t think. I have absolutely no creative energy to tackle anything long-form like a screenplay or a novel. The thought of a deadline makes me want to vomit.

Alhamdulillah I have written some poetry, though.

I think it’s about time that I took an extended period of rest. Regroup my spirits, learn to forgive myself and others, find my footing a little maybe. Or learn to just let it slide and accept Allah (SWT)’s plan for me.

As soon as I say that though, some strange demon in the depths of my belly stands jumping up and down, making scratch marks in my inside, shouting with the voices of my parents, a thousand teachers from over the years.

“You have no right to relax! People like you, less-than-geniuses, have to work your butts off to get anywhere – I mean ANYWHERE! – in life! Full tension every day all the time! That’s the price you pay for being born the way you are.

What have you achieved in your adult life? Nothing.

Has your writing changed anyone’s life? No. Not even your own.”

(This is not true. I’ve discovered a lot of things about myself and others through my work. Though it has been private, it has definitely been transformative.)

“Have you made your mark on the world? Like your heroes, Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye and Ani DiFranco? Have you made any of those mind-blowing films you keep dreaming of? Have you rivaled Mr. Scorsese or Mr. Kauffman? “

(Is it really necessary for me to change the world? I thought my work was for Allah (SWT). Then it simply is what it is, the story truer than the truth. It’s my duty to tell it, whether anyone cares to listen or not. Whether it changes anything or not.)

“What don’t you have enough of? Time.

What are you getting? Older. You’re 25 years old, 26 next month. Every day brings you closer to middle age and motherhood. Increased responsibilities, lower energy levels and your already poor time management skills will simply fall apart under the pressure.”

I ask real people for advice and it is always conflicting.

“You’re trying too hard.”

“You’re not working hard or smart enough.”

“You’re too young.”

“You’re too old.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

“You’re resting too much on your laurels.”

I find myself facing a mountain. Make this film. Write this screenplay. Find collaborators who are as excited about your work as you are. And for a while, I feel energetic. But then something happens, not really a discrete incident but just something else. Something outside of me. Maybe my father calls and or my mother or some boring administrative task takes up my entire day and my body just sinks beneath despair.

I feel like the world doesn’t want me to write or create. Perhaps Allah (SWT) is trying to tell me that my destiny is to be mediocre and house-bound like a not particularly cute cat.

I find myself fighting with the people I love. Not being able to tell them how I feel. How lost, alone and confused.

It’s time I took a little time off from the rat-race insha Allah. Whatever I’ve been doing hasn’t been working. This means finding a new path. Maybe recalibrating my beliefs. Doesn’t mean I’m going to stop writing. On the contrary, I think the fact that I’ve written so little has contributed to my exhaustion.

I’ll worship a lot more. I need it more than I think.

I’ll exercise too. Take long walks in nature. Run around after children (will somebody please lend me their children kthx), kung fu, kickboxing, aerobics maybe.

I’ll spend a lot of time outside of my comfort zone, especially when it comes to people and my interactions with them. Maybe I’ll try explaining spoken-word to my husband LOL. Yesterday, I showed him “When Love Arrives” and his mind just went blank.

And yes I think I will spend a lot of time writing. I will try insha Allah to rediscover the play in art, try to refill the well a little bit. Maybe I will work on a long-term project but as something fun, not as something that’s ever going to see the light of day.

I’m not going to be telling you how it’s going because the aim is not for it to be going anywhere.

I’m just going to be myself for a while. I’m going to find out what that means insha Allah.

Wassalam and Fee Amanillah.

Sabina.

7 ways to still be a writer – no matter what your life is like

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem.

May the peace and blessings of God Almighty be with you, dear owner of eyeballs.

I am writing from a rather swish hospital room in Tamil Nadu, India. Don’t worry – it’s for my mother, not me.

That doesn’t make it better, though.

My mother’s illness has locked an icy hand over my life for the past couple of months as the weakness in her left hand spread to her right hand and now to her left leg. Subhanallah, it is one of Allah (SWT)’s most stringent tests to stay patient in the face of debilitating sickness. I am going to wager that it is far worse being the one that watches – especially if you are in the dark and helpless – rather than the one that wastes away.

But I’ve still been trying to write as I believe it is one of the most potent ways I can do Ibadah insha Allah.

Some days have been better than others. I’ve decided that this day Insha Allah will be a good day.

My mother needs our help a fair amount. She’s not entirely incapacitated Alhamdulillah but still my time is not completely my own. I need to be present for her physically and emotionally.

It struck me some while ago that my situation is much like that of a new mother. And it follows that if I apply some of the lessons that writers who are also mothers have learned in their full-to-the-brim lives, I will feel less like a loser because I’m not writing regularly.

This is what I’ve learned from my own experiences and that of others.

1. Accept my situation.

When I didn’t accept the hand that Allah (SWT) has dealt me, I was caught in a funk of anger and gloom. I was no use to anyone, leave alone my dear mama.

But when I began to accept my life and even began to see the blessings in it, I began to see the wiggle room. I began to see the abundance and the possibility. My mind opened to re-ordering my life to best take advantage of my new circumstances.

2. Pay attention to the present moment.

By the Mercy of Allah, there is beauty and blessings here. Right now. Right in this moment. The sound of my fingers on the keyboard and my mother in the next room watching bad Hindi soap operas. Most of all, the thrilling relief that because of the superb care we’ve gotten here at the hospital by God’s grace, we are very close to a diagnosis, to closure. These are all moments I will never get back again.

More importantly, I find that when I pay attention, my brain becomes better at calibrating my actions to maximize the information I’m receiving. If I project myself into the future and try to guess the best course of action based on information I haven’t even received yet, I am liable to give myself a headache.

Does that make sense?

Simply put – have you ever carried a pile of books up a flight of stairs? With a mug balanced on top? I did once recently. My mother kept telling me that it was a bad idea, but I knew that I could do it. My brain became razor sharp. My body somehow set my spine and my arms in the perfect position to balance the load correctly and move simultaneously, all the while watching the load for imbalances. I watched out for obstacles in my path. It worked. I’d like to bring that kind of concentration into every part of my waking life.

3. Ask for help.

The women in my family have a huge problem admitting that they need help. They believe it smacks of weakness and will draw a pack of predators to feast on us alive.

I just read an excellent article by Martha Beck about how to ask for help and not feel pitiful and helpless. The solution is to ask, “How do I do this?” rather than “Can you help me?” This frames the asker as a problem-solver rather than a damsel (or gentleman) in distress.

But sometimes, I just need help. I mean good ole-fashioned “lift me up when I fall” help. I couldn’t handle it alone. With rehearsal for our improv troupe, I couldn’t be with my mother all the time. Possibly a good 85% of the time, but not all the time.

But sometimes when I asked for help, I became the butt end of judgement instead. Other times, it was resentment.

I learned to be choosy about the people I can trust. I learned the obvious choices are not always the best choices. And after I made my choice, I trusted completely.

4. Talk to people about how they’ve dealt with similar situations.

As I said before, I drew parallels between my situation and that of a mother of a newborn. So I asked a few writer-mothers how they dealt with raising young children and being a writer – two full-time jobs.

They shared with me the lessons they’ve learned, many of which have informed this post.

5. Work in ten- and twenty-minute bursts.

My brain will focus naturally on the task at hand if I know a child is going to cry, a timer is going to go off or my mama is going to holler.

6. Make lists that direct you towards a great goal.

I am working on the fourth rewrite of a mystery screenplay.

Thinking of research alone makes my heart stop. I have to research police procedures in Sri Lanka, money-laundering in the UAE and the Muslim community in general in Sri Lanka.

But if I divide my elephantine task up into small cat- or even mouse-sized chunks and work on one section at a time, rewarding myself as I go, that mountain does look a lot less overwhelming.

Lists also help to bring all your resources into focus so that you can achieve the goal at hand. But be sure to write down an inspiring goal, not simply a to-do list. To-do lists are for robots, not human beings. An inspiring goal however puts fire in my spiritual furnace and heats me up enough to take that next step, however daunting it may.

For example, for my goal of research, I could write down something like “Insha Allah I want to know the world of my characters inside out and experience it as they experience – not as I think they experience it.” That works for me. Nothing rings more hollow than a poorly researched story.

7. Connect to something bigger.

I am a Muslim, though I’m not keen to shove belief down anyone’s throats. Your throat is not the primary organ of belief anyway.

When things seem difficult, confusing or just plain hard, it always helps me to trust in the decree of Allah (SWT) and trust that He will be Merciful.

If I believe in a plan, that means that things are happening for a reason and difficult – and good times – are both here to teach me a lesson. Perhaps that the physical body can fade, but the soul can only be destroyed by Allah (SWT). That no situation is all bad – only Hell is all bad. And no situation is all good – only Heaven is perfect. That if I listen and watch hard enough, Allah (SWT) will show me the path. Insha Allah.

I hope this very long post has made a modicum of difference.

Love you guys for the sake of Allah.

Wassalam and Fee Amanillah,

The Happy (and peaceful) Muslimah.

The value of illness

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem

Assalam alaikum wr wb, peeps!

So my mother recently began experiencing nerve problems in her hand. They started with silly things – dropping plates, slipping and cutting herself when cooking.But now it is almost completely non-functional. It just hangs there, waiting for relief.

And it hurts her too.

Now her daily activities are no longer as simple as they used to be – very often, she needs assistance dressing, cooking, cleaning. We have been helping her as much as we can, but obviously we have also been looking desperately for a cure.

We have been now around the block (literally – there are four clinics in a few blocks’ radius here in Dubai) looking for a diagnosis. They got nothin’.

We went to Sri Lanka. After a flurry of painful, embarrassing and sometimes excruciating tests – for the wallet and the heart- nothing there either. After this trying ordeal, I flew back in to Dubai last weekend to get back to work. But my father says that my mother needs me now as he is preparing to come back to our businesses.

So out I go to Sri Lanka again.

Illness is a funny thing. It’s like an unwanted visitor, taking residence not in your house, your room, your closet or your bathroom, but somewhere else, somewhere more sacred – your body.

But illness is also an incredible teacher. Illness has taught me that I cannot be truly compassionate unless I break down the barrier between my mother and I. ‘Tough love’ never worked during my illness and it won’t work during hers. ‘Tough love’ usually happens when you can’t accept that the other person is in pain and is infringing on your life; I think it’s an ultimately selfish form of compassion.

Yes, we have had our moments – in fact, we continue to have those moments even as I help her on with her shalwar kameez. But now I understand. I understand the worry and the pain and the suffering, the “What will happen if I die? Who will take care of you now?” Because when I left her to come back to Dubai (a much tinier change than DEATH), I was thinking, “What will Mama do without me now?” It’s the same thing, just different hearts.

Illness takes no prisoners. It sits and it stays till you take action. But you can never be sure if it’ll work or not. As in all things in life, you are never sure. The end result is with Allah (SWT). Tawakkul and Yaqeen are such precious resources at a time like this. It’s the difference between spiritual death and the energy to take the next step.

People always say that you don’t know what you can do until you do it. And it’s usually those big things they are talking about – writing a novel, building a house, lifting a truck with your bare hands.

But illness makes you super-human. It’s a paradox, but those finest of human qualities – patience, strength, faith – finds their deepest and truest expression when the firm vessel they are housed in slowly begins to fade.

I can’t think how many times I have looked my mother in the eyes and told her, “Just a little while longer. It’s all going to be over soon.”

And she has said to me, “Okay.” Probably the first time in years we have agreed on anything.

You think you’ve scratched the bottom of the barrel, but suddenly there’s just a little more left. You can go on just one more day. And maybe today, you’ll figure this out.

I think the best thing that has come out of this illness is that my mother and I are renegotiating the terms of our relationship – at least Insha Allah I hope so. We’ve kind of turned the mother-child relationship on its head a little, and insha Allah, that’s exactly what we need to move over the impasse in communications we’ve hit recently.

It’s a delicate process. I’ll let you know how that goes.

Another rather obvious lesson illness has taught me – jolly well exercise and eat right or bad things will happen. I’m serious.

May Allah (SWT) keep all of us healthy Ameen!

Wassalam and Fee Amanillah,

The Happy Muslimah

5 Lessons Screenwriters Can Learn from Ramadan

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem

Assalam alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatahu!

So the blessed month is upon me and I’ve been using it to reflect on the things I need the most in my life, both spiritual and materialistic.

To those of you who don’t know what Ramadan is, it is the month in which the Islamic holy book, the Noble Qur’an, was sent down, i.e. the word of God in unadulterated form. The Qur’an is one of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him)’s many miracles, as he was an illiterate man, yet he was given words that moved the Arabs (who were great poets). We honor its revelation to us by fasting.

Fasting is about not eating between sunset and sundown, true, but it’s also about controlling your temper and staying away from sin and becoming truly conscious of God’s blessings and guidance in your life (called taqwa in Arabic). The gates of heaven are thrown open and Satan is tied up for the entire month and every good deed is rewarded multiple times in this month. So it is truly a blessed month.

Personally I can well and truly feel that blessing. You see, being a South East Asian gives you an inferiority complex from birth. Being a hardcore practicing Muslim and an artist, well, that just compounds it. In this month, I have no fear being myself. Female, Muslim, an artist – a servant of God in all respects. Whereas in other months, sometimes I worry what people think of me a little too much. The work of Satan and a uniquely Asian affliction.

That aside, I have come to the conclusion that fasting has many lessons to teach us screenwriters. Here are but a few I could think of:

1.       Be prepared.

I went into Ramadan having fasted a few extra days to prepare my body but I hadn’t really prepared my soul to take advantage of the blessed month. I hadn’t made a plan to truly make this month a success. I know what unique tests I face – between jobs, friends, comedy and film, it’s a miracle I have time to breathe. But somehow through all of that drama, in this blessed month, I need to remember to remember Allah (SWT). That means training my soul (nafs). Ramadan is a bootcamp. Screenwriting should be too. And it’s up to us to crack the whip, to dodge the bullets and roll with the punches. And other inane metaphors.

Basically, it’s important to figure out your goals and how you’re going to get there. And if it doesn’t work in practice, adjust.

2.       Follow your leaders

There are people – mentors, friends, colleagues – who are inspiring. For me, it’s our beloved Prophet (peace be upon him) and Imam Suhaib Webb.

I have yet to find a mentor in screenwriting, though.

3.       Have prescribed times for work and play.

One needs to keep balance in their life. Ramadan shouldn’t be a month where nothing gets done (the most common complaint in the Arab world).  There needs to be a balance between the world and the spiritual. One should not suffer on account of the other. It’s a fine balance and one that differs from person to person. But it’s necessary to walk that line.

As screenwriters, if you’re stuck inside your house writing all day, you might just end up writing the same story about the one-eyed cat who finds a key to heaven in the back-yard over and over again. For decades. Or you just might go postal and kill all the pets in the neighborhood.

The world has a million stories.  At any time, the most mind-blowing stories are running in HD 3D all around – and they’re called human beings!

4.       Learn from your mistakes.

I keep a log to a) make a list of all the things I’m learning b) provide a place to vent c) figure out problem areas I could work on.

5.       Patience in times of frustration

It isn’t easy.  In fact, it’ll probably be downright painful. You’ll lose sleep.  You’ll be hungry. You’ll say no to things you want to say yes to. You’ll be scared. You’ll take leaps of faith as a matter of course.

But it’ll all be worth it in the end.

I’ll see you after the month of mercy, brothers and sisters. Stay blessed.

Wassalam and Fee Amanillah,

The Happy Muslimah.

Salah: All I need is a Q-TIP

Bismillah ir Rahman ir Raheem

Assalam alaikum wr wb, peeps.

Some time ago, I read this article by Shaikh Abu Easa Niamatullah. To summarize the main thrust of his argument: Though the numbers of Muslims may well be increasing 235% a year, that is probably because we have more children than non-Muslims and it only takes into account the last 50 years, starting on an uneven footing anyway.

Moreover, so what if we are the fastest growing religion in the world? Just because there are more Muslims, doesn’t mean that they are all good Muslims. In fact, the opposite is quite likely.

If the five pillars of Islam, specifically Salah (the five daily prayers) are considered to be the absolute minimum a Muslim has to do to be practising, then well, according to Shaikh Niamatullah, there are probably very few of those around. “With more people seen to be praying, there are many times over more Muslims not praying. As those who are practicing their religion properly increases, the numbers of Muslims not practicing properly dwarfs it.”

The only question ringing in my head after reading this article is, “Why aren’t Muslims praying? More specifically, why do I find hard to maintain my daily prayers?”

I started to pray regularly when I was 11 years old, around the same time I started wearing hijaab. I missed prayers often, for parties, exams, studying, even TV shows, making it up in Khalah. I became stricter with Salah as I got older. This was mostly because of fear of Allah (SWT), but not really love of Him. Hadith said that if I missed my Asr prayer, all my good deeds would be wiped out. Others that played frequently on my conscience was that a believer’s faith could be judged by the frequency of their Isha and Fajr prayer.

But let me get to love later.

Sheikh Niamutallah’s article got me thinking about what it was about the practice of Salah that provided challenges for me and mah brothas and sistas.

The basic elements you need to comfortably pray are a quiet place free from distractions, adequate time to perform ablutions and your prayer and of course, a clear heart and mind. I tried to come up with a catchy acronym but the best I could do was another acronym – Q-TIP. Quietude, Time and Inner Peace.

Quietude
I live in the UAE and by the Grace of God, there are prayer rooms in almost every building.

In Dubai Mall, there’s a prayer room every hundred paces. Emaar Properties takes their prayer facilities quite seriously.

A friend of mine who’d grown up in London once called prayer rooms in shopping malls “beautiful”. I admit I used to think it bizarre to suddenly come upon beautiful places of worship in a temple of consumerism. But still, they are blessings.

In my office building, the ladies’ prayer room is basically a converted janitor’s closet, but still, it qualifies as a quiet place free from distractions and I’m grateful for it.

Even though sometimes there’s a rather frazzled gentleman that uses it. I don’t mind – I think we’re the only two people in the whole building using the prayer room and I can’t think where the men’s prayer room must be and what it must be like.

What do people do in places where no such prayer rooms exist? Pray in car-parks? Changing rooms? I’ve heard it helps to have someone to keep watch and field any questions from onlookers so you can do your Salah without people freaking out. There have been some funny stories.

Ablution has traditionally presented some problems, even here in Dubai, where sometimes I’ve not had the luxury of Wudhu facilities. Try explaining to someone why you have your foot in the sink. The result? More funny stories.

Time
Many of us have grueling work/study schedules. Work isn’t structured around sacral timings. In fact, I sometimes wonder if it’s even structured around human timings. When I was studying global politics in university, a feminist lecturer suggested that the world of work, politics and power was built in man’s image. Therefore it is rigid, structured and exacting and does not allow for the unstructured gendered feminine chaos of family life and child-rearing.

The company I work for is thankfully far more flexible and VERY family-friendly, Mashallah. None of my female co-workers have lost their jobs because they’ve gotten pregnant. My co-worker once even brought her daughter into work because she didn’t have school that day.

Unfortunately, from what I have observed, they are the exception and not the rule.

Inner peace
For me, since living in an Islamic country takes care of the first two, this third requirement is my personal Jihad.

As I said before, I used to have serious anxiety issues. I focused on the future to the point that it made me physically ill. I couldn’t find peace anywhere, not even in my prayers.

But even then, by the Grace of Allah (SWT), I somehow reached moments of great clarity. And in those moments of clarity, I felt humbled and powerful at the same time. Like I was connected to a power far larger than me. I felt like I didn’t care who was looking. Like I would welcome their questions. Because He (SWT) was on my side.

In the moments of confusion though, I was really confused. My mind would run up and down and sideways on work, men, family, clothes, jokes. I would come to the prayer room looking for answers and would leave feeling more confused than ever.

I began looking for ways to focus my concentration and let go of some of my anxiety. So far, a few things have worked, the most powerful of which is meditation. All these years, I hadn’t even been breathing. No wonder my brain scrambles around like a hamster on crack.

There is still however the tricky problem of motivation. Why am I praying? Why “should” I pray?

Don’t get me wrong. Fear works.

There is any number of sayings of the Prophet Muhammed (pbuh) telling you about the dire effects of missing your prayer. Imams (people leading the congregation in prayer) expound on these from the pulpit all the time.

However, not many of them talk about the flip side.

How many of us are looking for love? How many of us want the love of someone kind, true, loyal, patient and giving?

Allah (SWT) is Al Latheef (Kind, Gentle).
Allah (SWT) is As Sadiq (The Keeper of His Word)
Allah (SWT) is As Sabur (The Patient)
Allah (SWT) is Al Mujeeb (The Responder).
(And this is one of my favorites) Allah (SWT) is Al Mumin (The Giver of tranquility)

Who in the universe could love us more than our Creator?

If you ask of Allah (SWT), He will surely answer. The sacred texts (Hadith and the Qur’an) say it over and over again. I can’t say it any better than this article, so I won’t even try.

Questions
Truth be told, I have more questions than answers. I do know I want to try something out. I want to pray in strange places. Mountains, villages, truck stops, shopping malls (not in the prayer room), hospitals, anywhere a modern-day Muslim might find themselves. I want to see what the difficulties are and what tools we need as a community to make it less difficult.

As someone who meditates (arguably a Buddhist practice), I’m really interested to see what the intersections and divergences in diverse spiritual practices are too. In short, I would like to make a documentary.

If you pray regularly or if you don’t, I’d really like to know why. I would greatly appreciate it if you would drop me a comment below.

And that goes for Muslims and for non-Muslims!

I’m really not the Huffington Post (yet), but if you don’t want the whole world reading your response, please do respond here on my About page.

And tell me all your funny awkward praying-in-not-so-private stories!!

May Allah (SWT) respond to your deepest desires in the way that is best for you in this world and the next Ameen! I love you guys 

Wassalam and Fee Amanillah!
Sabina Giado.

Update: Salams! Alhamdulillah just came across this incredible video by Br. Nouman Ali Khan as to how Shaitan tricks us into not praying.