While you were on Instagram, we prepared for a hurricane and I got dengue. We bought a plot of land. I had a walk and coffee. I spilled something. While you were on Instagram, I was undoubtedly doing something in the real world, and whatever it was, it felt good.
If you have ever wanted a Pinterest-worthy home, it is not as glorious as it seems. For most of my life, home was a moving target in definition and location. It took me a long time to realize that home is happening all around us, in the seemingly imperfect cracks of our perfect homes.
The day before the hurricane, we woke up without electricity, cell service, and internet. The weather seemed torrential, like there was a great fury the sky intended to unleash. The day would be filled with occurrences that all felt important as I pondered how far away from home I am.
A few days ago, my second husband and I approached our anniversary, and I had something new to reflect on—one year of a happy marriage. Remembering my journey, I see the road to love started with loving myself with a light so bright, it emitted from me like a star in the sky.
It has been three years since the passing of Ustadh Usama Canon. It is strange, this thing we call “time,” that supposedly heals all and yet is nothing but a human construct. Ustadh Usama’s legacy still permeates my everyday life. In his final act, he taught me how to die.
Looking into the mirror at 39, I recently realized I am aging. I have been alive for almost 40 years and on various occasions have gone unarmed into the dark nights of my own soul. There must be more to aging—and life—than how I look. I must have more to offer the world.
Vulnerability is usually seen as weakness. It’s a state of being exposed, and not something we usually want. Recently, I experienced vulnerability, and it taught me the necessity and beauty of embracing the shadow in everything. Like a beautiful a yin yang.
Ear Kiss Syndrome and tinnitus altered the course of my life in ways that I am still discovering. But, despite the difficulties, one thing I still have and have seen results from is hope.
I never thought of myself as athletic, but at 36, I realized I was at a crossroads in which I had to decide if I was okay with my body as it was, or work on it by really working out. I chose to run, and in turn, I chose to become more resilient.
Life’s challenges can feel like double dutch—requiring you to jump in with confidence and timing. Growing up in Richmond, California, I learned that hesitation in double dutch only led to tripping. Tackling problems head-on, without overthinking, is crucial for success. In fact, it can be more crucial than the decision itself.