Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Moving back to SC ... for now.

So. How shall I summarize... let's see.

I've left California and am currently chillin with my pregnant friend here in Bozeman, Mt. I'll be hitting the road again tomorrow morning, and be in State College, sometime between Monday and Wednesday, depending on people and weather.

In short, I worked a job I didn't like for a year, spent much of my spare time and money on health concerns, and finally found a community that I loved - just before I realized that I really needed to go home for a little while.

I guess my reasons are as follows:

1.) Rest and work on my health
2.) Visit friends and family that I haven't seen for 2.5 - 10 years
3.) Live at home and save some money
4.) Tackle this huge list of things that I've been wanting to do that can only be done by living unstressfully at home (organizing all the stuff I left there, getting through a huge reading list, sitting in on classes at PSU, lots of cooking, volunteering, etc)

But, of course, after months of fantasizing (during my boring job) about what I would do at home, now I'm not so sure how happy I'll really be there. I mean I left for a reason. But now I'm remembering how few people my own age will be there - how many of my fellow classmates have moved on to massively successful things, how annoying drunken and stupid PSU students can be, and how little there really is to do. Avoiding TV will be hard.

But I'm hoping to make a new start. Take what I've learned in LA and apply it here - make a new space for myself and forget/avoid all this other stuff.

And in the end, I really only plan to be there through August. God only knows how long I'll actually end up anywhere - but I keep reminding myself, it is what you make of it.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

The last thing I did tonight before leaving my Aunt's house was eat a salad. And it was good. And it didn't make my head spin like all the other bread and sugary food I had today. But now I can feel it still expanding slightly, aching in my stomach. And it reminds me of last July, when this whole health problem started.

It's been almost a year now, and life has changed in a lot of ways that are disappointing. I can't play capoeira anymore. I haven't felt like I've been in good health for many months. I always have to remember some kind of pill. And my finances are, at best, stable, at worst slip-sliding away.

But illness and lonliness - a difficult combination to say the least - have brought be "back to God", so to speak. And I feel that I've come to realize the things that really matter. I feel like I can see myself more clearly, and I have tons to be thankful for. I live in a beautiful, peaceful, cheap abode. I now have my own set of comfy furniture, and just enough clothing to skate by. I can afford decent food for myself, and I'm no longer dependent on any junk food.

I've finally kicked TV. I read now - and I learn a lot more. I'm thankful to have my job even though I kind of hate it. And I'm starting to find peace, even amidst the chaos of hormones and who knows what other physical ailments. I'm also finally getting to know the muslim community here and making progress in issues of faith - reading and learning and reciting and practicing. And just this week, I'm re-starting my piano skills - and my teaching skills. That's pretty exciting.

But today, amidst my crazy, dizzy brain fog, I realized that I don't love enough. I've only begun to appreciate what I have - I've never loved enough. And it's reflective in the way I treat others, the things I put out into the world, and the way I treat myself. Even as grateful as I feel now, I have to push myself to do nicer things - like make myself get enough, or bring nice snacks to a party, or compliment someone on something.

So there it is, my moment of zen admist hope for the future.

Saturday, April 25, 2009

An L.A. Cinderella Story pt. 2: the MPAC Media Awards

So for those of you who may remember, about 2 years ago when I first came out to L.A. I got to attend the second season premier of "Big Love" on account of my artistically-connected uncle. That was Cinderella story #1 - it showed me the glitzy side of lala land. Kind of an "intro to Hollywood" that I was never interested enough in to follow up with.

#2 occured tonight: the Muslim Public Affairs Council (MPAC) Media Awards. Noticeably less glitzy, but probably just as good at making me feel out of place. And, being true to the Cinderella theme, took "economically challenged" Heather and put her smack in the middle of people who can afford things like a $150 per seat banquet.

The progression went like this: Heather has health problems. Heather has an existential crisis due to health problems. Heather starts spending time at the mosque. Heather then learns of an arabic class she can take at the mosque in her time there, then spending even more time at the mosque. Finally, Heather hangs out at the mosque all day due to the arabic class, and gets randomly offered a free ticket to a cinderella event. Fairy-godmother clothing provision not included (unfortunately).

So I put together my best attempt at "formal attire" and headed downtown. In L.A. fashion I was both late and got lost due to road construction. So when I showed up I was reminded of how uncomfortable these kinds of large, formal gatherings are when you don't know anyone - let alone when you show up an hour late. But thankfully I slipped in just in time to eat the salad.

The Media Awards are basically an annual event to celebrate those who help break stereotypes and bigotry against muslims and Islam in the media. Amy Goodman of "Democracy Now!" gave a very good speech. The guy from "Slumdog Millionaire" also had good words to say. The guy from the Simpsons seemed unprepared and I felt a little sorry for the comedian - he was good but it just wasn't really a good time for comedy by the end of the program.

But overall, what do I remember? Well, I can't remember any of the relatively inconsequential chitchat. Actually, what seems to be sticking in my mind is the banquet servers that I watched after the event was over. I worked as one for 2 years in high school and everything from the uniform to the stink and waste of leftover food brought back memories. It's been a while since I've been somewhere where class distinction is so palpable. It's weird, but somehow I felt like everyone there sort of fit into their clothes, spiritually or characteristically. But I felt like I was faking their dress - like I should have been barefoot in an old long skirt on a dirt floor. And then when the event was over and I watched the servers pulling the glasses off the table I remembered being on the outside of these things - wearing the same crap-covered shoes and old clothes to work, having to wait for the guests to have their "presentation" until you can eat any extra food there might be, and just generally aching and slaving (and earning next to nothing) while others are living luxuriously.

So what does this mean? Where do I fit in this community, in the world? I'm content with making my own place, I guess I just wish I knew where that place should be. It's very hard to be in the lower class. But it's too easy to just let yourself be lazy and enjoy everything in life when you're not.

I think this post was supposed to be a little bit more deep than that, but that's what it comes down to I guess.

Hmm.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Candles and Contemplation

When I started this my blog I did so to keep my friends and mostly my family informed of where I was and what I was up to. This was before most of them got on Facebook, so I am officially giving up on keeping it "clean." I'm also letting it go because I don't think they'll actually read it anymore ;)

So I'm going to let some of my more personal thoughts adorn this web space. I need a place to release them - I don't have the luxury of company I feel comfortable talking to about these kinds of things anymore. God willing, they won't be too obnoxious to read :)

At the moment I'm going to take this moment of quiet and candles to go through my "notes" - the notebooks that I use to keep track of who I am, where I'm going, where I want to go, important information, and my dreams, hopes and goals. But no more bland posts! I want to go Hijabman style :)

Friday, April 10, 2009

25

On Friday, April 10, I turned 25. So now I can officially say that I've been having a quarter life crisis - evidently the newest trend in my generation.

So what is a quarter-life crisis? Well, it's sort of like a mid-life crisis, only instead of changing the direction of your life, you're struggling to establish the direction of your life. It makes a lot of sense for my generation I think - since going to college has become less of the "becoming an adult" experience and more of a "celebrating my youth" kind of experience. At least that's my take on it.

And then there are those like me who are having more of a leftover identity crisis from their college days. In my case, not only in career path, but personal development as well. Two years prior to my year-late graduation I not only totally flipped my previously hardcore career path on its head, I also definitely chose a path-less-traveled for myself personally - conversion to faith, and Islam at that. Of course, I don't really regard the second as a decision, more as a calling. I wasn't looking for faith - it came to me and I couldn't ignore it or deny it.

So.

Here I am, trying to keep my tiny craft from sinking in the sometimes storm-surge waves of life on my own in Los Angeles. My analogy at the moment is like being stuck on a tiny craft in the Caribbean, far from land without a compass. I've figured out East and West, and being relatively close to some major piece of land gives me hope - I just have no idea how close or far from it I may be. Further, I'm not entirely alone - every once in a while a big ship comes by and tries unsuccessfully to take me aboard, but then another hurricane hits, we're torn apart, and I'm struggling to keep my head above water again.

OK, so that might sound a little extreme, and maybe it is. But, the upside of being stuck alone on a tiny craft in the Caribbean is that you learn a lot about yourself. Yes, on this tiny boat there has been a lot of deep thinking about life, who I am, God, and the beauty around me. After all, it's the Caribbean! And sometimes you're lucky enough to find reprieve on a gorgeous little island for a while.

Most recently, to continue the analogy, I finally found refuge on a nice-sized tourist boat. I rested, ate, drank, washed, and enjoyed a welcome back to civilization, though it housed just a handful of tourists. But, just when I was feeling solidly optimistic about returning to land and making my plans and getting lost in my company, I discovered that the boat's captain was lost. Most likely I wouldn't end up alone on my little craft again, but where would I end up? And when? And at what cost?

Not entirely accurate, but I guess it gives a good feel to the current situation. In November I finally had found a job that would support me and a solid place to live. Over the next couple months I started to regain ground financially and re-stabilize my life. But then I had persistent health problems. And I couldn't save money. And I stopped going to capoeira (which has been my primary source of happiness since I've been in L.A.) and found myself increasingly isolated as I just tried to figure out what was wrong with me.

And I'm still in that stage. But I feel I have passed through the worst of it. At it's peak, I was terribly lonely and struggling to deal with a health problem that I couldn't identify - digestive issues - and one more frighteningly definite - periodontal disease (advanced for my age). I may lose all my teeth, they told me. Or need braces or expensive surgery that I most certainly couldn't afford. Going back to school would be cheaper. But, sadly, doing that wouldn't make it go away, of course. No known medical techniques can. Scary stuff.

So I cried a lot and it haunted me through miserable shifts at work. And, like people sometimes do when they're ill for too long, I wondered if I might die. Maybe it's cancer! Or worse! Attention K-Mart shoppers: we are now having an existential crisis.

And I think that was the worst of it: the night I was sobbing on the floor after praying. For story-telling's sake, I wish I remembered my own history in more detail. I don't remember exactly what I was thinking, just that I let all of my own fears out. And that somehow, after that, I was incredibly grateful for everything that I have. More than that, I realized that I had mis-aligned my life. Do you know what I wanted when I changed my life so dramatically those 2-3 years before graduation? I wanted to be one of those unusually good people when I got old. I wanted to explore my interests, drop my bad habits, and establish good ones permanently. Of course I wanted to have the kind of character that's mentioned in the Qur'an - but this was in addition to people whose traits I've wanted much of my life. I wanted to have the warm, loving, intelligent personality of and family ties like my grandma Barton. I wanted to have the solid sense of right and wrong and responsibility of my grandpa Herron.

And over the past 1.5 years I ignored the most important thing of all. I didn't realize it until I couldn't escape my loneliness and fear. I didn't remember until I had to get out of my usually comfortable room and house to the most comforting place I know of in L.A. - the mosque. During one of my days off in the middle of this I went there mid-day just to make prayer, read the Qur'an - my only real solace- and rest, away from my demons. The sun shone in through the front doors as I sat on the soft, cushy carpeting in the prayer area, a large area only populated by a handful of people in the middle of a regular day. I couldn't help but just sit there a while and take in the scene - that unmistakable sweet mosque scent and indescribable peace and quiet that even rowdy children can't complete destroy. It was then that some kids were running around, playing with their relatives who had brought them as well as the desk attendant. Their care-takers - be they parents or otherwise, I don't know - were at ease and peace, one even stretching out on the carpeting on the other side of the hall, the other playing with the kids when they ran his way.

That is what I want. I want the kind of peace and love and beauty that I find in the mosque in my life. And I want the kind of warmth of family and friendship that I see among Muslims. There was no mean joking, no harsh words, no threat of punishment to those kids. There was no weariness or resentment or fear despite a failing economy and the end of a work day. There was no drama, despite kids interrupting the peace and the use of the mosque by hundreds of different people, of different income levels, of different ethnicities, with different values, from different places and cultures and skin tones. And there was, simply, that indescribable peace and beauty of putting the most importance on the things in life the matter, and acknowledging all other things as a decoration.

So, at age 25, here I am. It has been a little traumatic, and certainly quite dramatic getting here. But I think I've finally realized how I need to live my life. Remembrance of God, and prayer, and a path of faith needs to be the center of my life. Career, and money, and yes, even health, are decorations. If I were to die tomorrow I would want to feel like I've put something good in this world. I would much rather have taken my last day of life to give food to the hungry or give someone a helping hand than something relatively selfish like going to France or eating the world's most lavish meal.

Now I need to live my life this way. Now I truly remember what the best path is. Alhamdulillah.

Friday, January 30, 2009

Alhamdulilah


Thank God. And that's not just an expression - I am incredibly grateful to be where I am right now. I'm not always happy with/about the job I'm working, or the friends and family I miss, or the things that I would do if I could but can't, but I'm not sure I could be much more happy with where I am. I've recently realized that I am actually doing the things that I wanted to do the most - be financially independent, learn how to cook, get 8 hours of sleep most nights, manage my health better, learn about how the world works, and sit down and really think about where I want to be in it.

And what have I determined about that last important question? After cycles of thought every few months for 1.5 years, all I can definitely say is that it is subject to change. But I think getting some experience teaching English abroad would be a very good base and starting point. After that I've had all kinds of ideas - some kind of environmental work, development, or research; starting my own business; continuing some kind of specialized teaching career; working for an American Embassy abroad; writing or getting published; going back to music; starting some kind of non-profit; etc.

I know I want to go back to school eventually. I had someone ask me recently what I would do with a million dollars. After all the other, "hey, I have money" fun stuff was done, honestly, for some reason I would just take that money, go live in the eco village by LACC (LA Community College), take a bunch of math classes (I hear they have good teachers for that) and just see where it leads me. So I guess in essence, I'd almost do undergrad over, only with more science and math involved - at least in my thinking at this point.

Other than that, I continue to learn about myself and about the world. My only hope is that I continue to find things I hadn't expected, always changing...