A Pathway to Endless Wealth..

Do our lives improve if our income increases?.. or is our value of life based on what we make of it? My idealistic tendencies believe that the later is true...

My Iman is what makes me wealthy.. it gives me the riches to think and live freely.. free of the diseases of the heart & mind .. that keep us from loving and living to our fullest potential. I may not be wealthy by common standards, but I possess a rare jewel when my Iman is high.. Letting go of what society holds "precious" and reevaluating my perspective in life.. It gives me to courage to stand alone.. the strength to take on an army of criticism.. the confidence to be myself and proud of every part of it.. the beauty that you feel not only on the outside, but in the depths of your heart.

It is my remedy.. when I am sick.. and this is my reminder to myself..
Faith is a very powerful tool.. and Allah is always there.. unconditionally ready to hear us.. but only if we are willing to come to Him..

no proposal ?

We grow up dreaming of how we will get married and all the cool ways to get proposed to.. (at least I did). He will get down on one knee.. I won't know where or when or how .. but he will be proud to let the world know that he loves me.. and it will be unforgettable! Our idealistic and overly romantic perspective on life is bound to slap us around with a few disappointments...

Expecting to hear of a romantic proposal.. I continued to question my mother tonight, on our way to a wedding .. "Mama.. so how did baba propose to you?" and I was disappointed to hear that he hadn't.. She had, in fact, suggested that they get married. It may seem petty.. but it made me sad for some reason.

That is all.

How did that happen?

When asked what my roots are.. I explain that I am half Irish and half Palestinian.. 99% of the time the next question I am asked is.. "How did that happen??"

I've heard different stories about how it happened.. but for once, after 29 years of life, I decided to go to the source. I don't know why it took me so long to ask my mother, but I'm glad I finally did.

It's a simple story really..

"So mama..how did you meet baba? Like where was the first time you ever met?"

she blushed and had this look in her eyes like she was going back in time..

"At Calvert (Mama Ayesha's)" she answered.

"Ok mama.. I can understand baba being at Mama Ayesha's Restaurant because it's Palestinian.. but what brought you there?"

"Well it was the hip place to be.. for the young and politically active, Pro-Palestinian crowd.. and I came with friends one day", she said.

I felt like I had to pull teeth to get more out of her!! so I asked some more.. "So.. was he a waiter there at the time?"

"Yes he was." she said.. "some of my friends had already known him from before, and they introduced me to him"

I asked if he even spoke English very well..She said He was studying English at American University at the time and that his English was good..

"Well what did you talk about?".. I asked.

She said, "Oh just normal stuff. .like where are you from .."

I was curious to know more.. and so I asked, "So did you think he was cute when you met him?"

She blushed again and sighed and said "ya" .. with a little grin on her face.. she added, "I really liked his hair..it was different.. exotic"

I said, "You mean his fro?!" and she had a big smile on her face and said "with the big sideburns."

So my mom thought my dad was "exotic" when she first met him. I would love to hear my dad's side of the story one day..


So.. if you wanna "mix it up a lil" .. go to Busboys and Poets.. I'd say that would be the modern day equivlent to the place they met..

I do have to say though.. Mama Ayesha's in Calvert.. has some bomb diggity Palestinian food.. I have not been there in years.. but this story.. makes me want to go back soon.http://www.mamaayeshas.com/ . When I was about 2-3yrs old.. and my father was still working at the restaurant, I clearly remember being given the bread baskets to take to costumers tables..

The picture posted above is from my parent's wedding. They are doing the Debka, a traditional Palestinian dance, with my mother's father (who had refused to attend the wedding up until the day of.. but that, I will save for another blog)..

Out of Balance

I tried to close my eyes and sleep it away with a nap.. wash it away with a shower.. ease it away with a prayer.. dream it away with some music.. but this feeling will not leave me. Unease seems to be ingrained into the depths of my body and mind.. and isn't allowing me to function like I want to right now..

I have been here before.. which is why it scares me even more.. This is a dangerous feeling for me.. something is not right..

Something is out of balance..

my first blog..

so this is blogging eh? interesting..

It's like getting on stage in a random town.. you don't really know who's in the crowd becoming a part of your life..