To Be Or Not To Be

Not "He"

I had written recently, because I am not the eye that sees everything, or know the unseen, that I thought someone who commented as "Libyan" was my husband. Later, I think the next day, when he called me, he told me that wasn't him - because he doesn't comment on my blog, actually, but he does get emails whenever I publish something. I should have been forewarned by some "premonition" which women get, that he would bring it up, which he did immediately, "I'm not 'Libyan'". "Oh", I said. And for a moment something "awkward" happens. I feel an invisible process,  like a force field suddenly erected by a gigantic spaceship to capture the Earth or the pull between two planets, or the gravity of a bigger planet drawing in a smaller planet, maybe. I am like a satellite, an object with no resitance and feel the need for some air. Then the feeling is gone - we start to discuss our plans for the coming week.

Stay Tuned

Something exciting is happening, which I won't discuss right now. It is kind of a top secret matter around here, I was told the other night when I had dinner with someone. I am good at keeping secrets, so I am bound by an oath. Or I wouldn't have been trusted with this in the first place. Also, being a blogger, I suppose I should always look at the bigger picture - I will report on this again later.

Last night, I talked to K again trying to smooth over the logistical problems for him to come home in time for the "big day", but it is touch and go right now. I am keeping my legs crossed, lol. That means of course (not what you might think) that I am at my desk today again, typing away. I am not ashamed to admit the detox program I mentioned last week on Twitter has me jumping to the bathroom quite a lot - so in more ways than one, time is of the essence this week. Does he think he can make it, or is he trying not to let me worry about it? I tell him I don't completely believe that things will "magically" or otherwise, work out. It is like booking a ride to the moon, unless you are stinking rich, it ain't happenin'. I have a nervous feeling; butterflies which soon will be a large pit in my stomach, if I don't know we can manage to solve the timing problem.

A Man on a Mission

When I went to Juffair the other night, my husband sent five or six SMS checking up on my progress; did I take my son as well? Don't forget to close the car door? Take one of the girls with you! What???

He was worried; I said I will be fine, why would he worry so? I then wondered if he'd had a bad dream, which made me worry - but I pushed that thought out of my head.

K

 If I know him, already the thought crossed his mind to ask other people to call to find out where I am. If I knew how to use one of the applications to pinpoint my whereabouts on a map, I would, just so he could be sure; In fact I think that’s a good idea for all couples. What’s wrong with being able to find one’s spouse on Google Maps™ or Wat’sApp™? And parents should do the same thing with their kids. But there should be agreement that we are going to share our locations anytime, anyplace, because we care – it’s the same as asking your teenager to “call [you] when [she] get[s] there”.

 

He was in stealth mode - probably his own sense of well being depends on my physical well being. As internet service would have it, I couldn't connect for a few minutes, and had to leave - in the car there was no chance of messaging him again. I was relieved, I have to say, because I was afraid he might tell me to stay home, which I would have to do then. To other people, non-Muslims and also many Muslims, this sounds archaic and ludicrous. But I don't care what anyone thinks.

A Room of One's Own

Being on the same page with my husband is paramount. And, though my life isn't perfect, Islam is one of the constants that makes my life worth living, without which I think I would rather be just another form of creature, like a bug; bugs have no worries, I mean, how big are their brains? I don't think something that small knows much about anything, not even what it looks like. They don't have feelings or problems - certainly not the drama human beings experience almost all the time. It's nothing less than biology (but proof of the irrelevance of theories about human evolution) that we don't all have an instinctive urge to jump like lemmings do, considering some of our's deep seated neroses, volatile relationships, jobs that don't pay enough, or careers that don't make sense - what does a stock broker really do? Our lives are always careening towards some danger, or we are always trying to cope, trying to make sense, or trying to forget. That is one side of the story, then there is the good stuff, which would take another five minutes to think about; and I don't have the time.  

I can't blame K for his overpowering need to know where I am and what I am doing - and occasionally refusing me permission to do something even if I am set on it. I understand it better now, after the events of this past summer; I was the one who "needed to know" - where he was, what he was doing, who he was with, who he was talking to on the phone. So I do understand - needing to know can be very unsettling and is much harder to ignore than needing to pee (this is something I know women understand more than men, so the metaphor is an apt one, lol) But he can also be unpredictable, which makes it harder on me, when I have thought something through, decided on a course of action and then find that he is putting up resistance.

Making things public

I timed the start of my blog well, he didn't have anything to say about it at first. Sometimes he tells me to be careful.  Now, he even gives me advice or comments. He liked the last post, though I felt he wasn't being completely honest about his thoughts. "Too personal?" I asked. But he said on his phone the paragraphs were mixed up - I said, no it IS mixed up, because I couldn't edit it; I might edit the post later (should but probably will not do it today), which will mean deleting it,  editing my copy on the pc, posting a new draft, and republishing; I can edit the labels then as well, if I think its necessary. I can't do anything about making the subtitles stand out, block lettering isn't an option. I am frustrated about this, but haven't found any solution to the problem yet. This one, is being written on the fly. I hope it meets peoples expectations, as per the title.

I don't like getting too personal, this is one of the times where I am hesitant, but also figure, WTH, it's only a blog afterall. Blogs are supposed to be journals. I write to tell people what I believe, and this maybe is just one of those attempts to explain a Muslim's perspective on a personal matter of little significance to others, but which impacts my life perhaps weekly or less than that. I hope other people who have struggles or their own little problems have a way to cope that is as simple as mine - the purpose of a journal is to let one's feelings and ideas flow, emerge, and maybe solutions will show themselves.