Water dreams

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم 

Going back into the dreams I have had over the years.
Water, water, water...

Two years ago, I spent my nights watching the Zamzam overflow into a huge lake. I would watch Sayyiduna Mohammed (saw) make wudhu beneath an olive tree. And wherever I was back then, a man dressed in white stood behind me, like a guardian and guide. His body was light; I was never able to turn around and see him, but he was always with me.

This year I don’t have that man in my dreams and I am not looking at the water. This year, I am in the water, and every dream I have of it is in the first person. I am not looking at myself from outside – I am there, experiencing it all with my senses as if I am awake. And there is nothing calm about it, yet nothing violent either. It’s just intense. Like pushing the contrast and exposure levels to 100% on all your  photos.

I am hurled from outer space and into the sea. I am jumping into the sea but my jump is hundreds of times more powerful than I anticipated and I end up jumping far into the deep blue waters. Or, I find myself being in the sea with mureeds I know in my awake life. We are all alive and breathing under water.

This is different from what I did two years ago. And looking back at something else I did almost exactly one year ago, it is all making sense to what is happening now. Those who know me personally, will sit back and think.

Last week, another sea dream. But this time, something new happened:

I was on a road, we were driving. I was driving and I remembered that I don’t have a license. But I drove. In the car sat a dear friend of mine. The car was a caravan. My home was inside it. The sun beamed on us like dhohr, and it was white. White light beaming intensely. In front of me I saw the Öresund bridge and the water and I realized we were going to leave the country and go to another country. Did we have our passports? Or maybe they will let us by without checking? We look Swedish enough, no?

I looked at my clothes. I wore a big floral hijab with a black background and a black abaya. My friend wore a striped white galabaya. Inside I started panicking since I realized that we will for sure be pulled over and checked by the border policemen, and they will see that I don’t have a passport or a driver’s license. They will take us. That is what I thought. My friend was calm as if there was no problem at all. He even smiled politely as they stopped us.

The policemen told us to step out of the caravan. We did, and I started pleading with them. I begged them to let us cross the bridge. They refused and even asked if we were in Sweden illegally. I started panting heavily and felt as if I was about to die. My friend went over to speak with the policemen. I couldn’t hear him since he spoke softly but I could see from his body language that he was trying to bargain with them.

“He is only making it worse. No Swede bargains!” I thought and crouched. Touched the asphalt with my fingertips. To my left stood the caravan and also a white wooden guard house where people would pass, or not pass. We were those who were asked aside.

I touched the ground and looked back and saw how my friend was still talking talking. So I leapt. And jumped into the sea. I thought I made a jump that would only take me a meter or so down, but instead my jump was so full of energy and strength. I ended up jumping right down to the bottom of the sea. I heard my friend cry out and the policemen stood aside.

Down at the bottom of the sea I saw colorful fish and soft sand. The beaming light made everything visible at the bottom. The water was clear. I thought I was drowning, but instead I noticed that I could breathe underwater! It felt liberating. Nothing to be afraid of anymore, in this world. Due to gravity, I started rising slowly. I could still hear my friend’s muffled calls.

Then to my left, I saw my friend’s arm and the sleeve of his galabaya. He was reaching down for me. He gripped my arm and with a lot of strength, he pulled me up from the water and stood me up on the asphalt all in one movement. As I broke through the surface of the water, I saw the sea glittering like diamonds, from the sunlight.

Then I woke up.

Salaam alaykum,

Sarah

הנה אני

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم 

Here I am
- by Shai Ben-Tzur (above)
. 

here I am, I am all Yours

do with me as You please

I came empty

I surrender

my heart is given to Your mercy

and even if all will be taken away from me

for sure I will hear Your voice inside of me

from the pain He will lift me

and will fill me with love

.

In anticipation of Real Life

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم 

If you only see one movie this year, make it this one:

Salaam alaykum,

Oum Isra’a

We Are Most Content

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم 

A few days ago, a mureed gave me this link:

Immediately, I passed it on. Unless it’s information that is specifically for me, told to me in confidence, then I pass the knowledge on. But I am not a blabbermouth – I fear for in the akhira, being judged for holding back knowledge. So I pass it on.

Now here is the “magical moment” of it all: I heard this Friday. Today is Sunday. This morning, did I wake up from an alarm? Did my child or my backache wake me up? No. The sound of a soft, mild, warm, comforting voice that felt as close as if the person was whispering it in my ear, woke me up. The voice said in a low and loving voice, to my mind over and over until I opened my eyes:

رضينا يا بني الزهرا رضينا

I should point out that I am alone this weekend. So, no friend in this physical world, to whisper in my ear. The kindest most graceful and noble wake-up call in a long time.

Salaam alaykum,

Oum Isra’a

Dhikr Nights

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم 

.

You take my ego

You take out the status

I hand over all control to You

I hand my life over to You

And You hold me close

.

I am not my name anymore

I am not my skin not my body

You take me and let me soar

.

You reveal the soul I really am

You pull her out of her dunya cage

You let her fly freely

You hold onto her 

As she ascends

.

My voice belongs to You

My breath belongs to You

You hold my heartbeat

You are different

.

Not oppressive

Not violent

Not restricting

You never were

.

Within Your control

I soar through the Heavens

Within Your command

My voice knows only dhikr

Like a trumpet without an owner

The words become jewels

And all I am made for

The only reason I am here

Is to return them 

To You.

.

Bilady, bilady…

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

I am sure there are those who think this is a cheesy song. But for a hybrid like me, it sends patriotic shivers down my arms and makes me break into tears. Every time.

*

!! يا بلادي أنا جاي بعد شوية 

*

- ساره

Tornado dream

بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

I was with my grandfather. we were eating breakfast together; bread and milk. We joked and I said the word milk backwards as I poured him some – from the bread! I squeezed the bread like a lemon and milk came from it.

My grandfather was small, not as tall as before. He wore white linen clothes and his hair was white. But otherwise, it was him.

We were sitting on the top floor in a glass building by the sea. It was a fancy place; the whole interior was white, floor was granite gray wall to wall carpet. Designer glasses and cutlery. Many people from high up in society were dining there. They looked down at me; because I wore a hijab, I was not welcome there but they could not kick me out since I had paid for the food.

We sat and ate, looking out at the sea. It was Öresund. Calm and navy blue gray. Then as I turned my head back toward looking through the glass part of the building that faced inland, I saw Lomma. And from there, a huge dark storm was forming in the sky. I felt the fear gripping me by my guts. I lost my speech. Grandfather was talking calmly and kindly. The storm came from the area where the old grocery store is.

I couldn’t hear my grandfather. The storm lowered itself to the level of the rooftops and a tornado started forming in its middle. First it was a small thread-like tornado, but it grew into a wide big one. And that’s when I gained my speech back:

“Morfar there is a big storm. Look. We have to go.” I said, almost monotonously. I was preparing for a big struggle. Then there was a huge moaning noise, like from steel bending, and I saw from the glass windows facing the sea, that the storm was embracing the building.

My grandfather didn’t seem scared at all. He just replied: “Jaha.” (“Ok then”, in Swedish) and got down from the chair by the table. He was going to go into the sea, via the windows.

People were panicking and running around in the restaurant. Most people were staring at the storm through the windows. I knew that the windows will burst soon, as soon as the tornado comes. I took my grandfather in my arms and lifted him and walked quickly to the stairs.

The stairs were made of stone, compact marble-like stone. Their color was the same as redwood trees. They formed a pillar. I took us there, and set my grandfather down. The storm was inaudible here.

“We stay here. This will not break.” I said, as I heard the glass windows breaking in the restaurant and people screaming from fear since they were being sucked into the storm. I held my grandfather’s hand, he was as tall as a child.

We went into the center of the pillar and I knealed and covered my grandfather in my coat and abaya and told him to be safe. I closed my eyes since I was worried I would get glass into them. I held onto my grandfather.

The tornado was approaching, I could hear its noise as if it was a sinking ship. People screaming, panicking, desperate. I was not so unwelcome anymore. They saw what I did and that I was in a safe place but only me and my grandfather were there. They didn’t come with us into the pillar. It puzzled me why; their safety was obvious if they only went to the pillar of marble stairs, where we were. It was as if they didn’t see that these stairs were both safety and survival. It hurt my heart to realize that nobody followed us.

The tornado and storm made roaring sounds.

Then I woke up.

Salaam alaykum,

Oum Isra’a

PS: my grandfather passed away Spring 2003, a few months before I reverted to Islam.