“Oh Allah, bring this year upon us with security, faith and safety, Islam, acceptance by the Most Merciful and protection from Shaytan.” (Mu’jam al-Awsat of at-Tabarani).
Dear Fellow Warrior,
This Friday marked the beginning of the Islamic New Year, 1447 AH, the blessed month of Muharram, which the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) called “the Month of Allah.”
I appreciate that this year also aligns with the midpoint of the Gregorian calendar, which is a natural time for reflection and renewed intention.
And as I renew my intentions, I feel called to write this reflection.
I am, by nature, a very expressive person. I speak from my heart, which includes both the light and the dark.
Sometimes, all the goodness and love one offers is completely dismissed because of one thing others don’t like or understand about you….
…The problem of hypervisibility versus invisibility for authentic women…
….Or the curse of having an “othered,” misunderstood personality disorder or chronic mental health condition, which can lead to further demonization and dehumanization, especially when combined with other identity factors and stigmas…
Still, I speak the truth as I know it. I practice self-awareness and significant reflection on a daily basis. And if I’m ever wrong, I will work to correct it.
If it’s something truly misguided, I trust that Allah (swt) will eventually….at some point… help me recognize it, fix it, and keep growing.
What I can say with great certainty is that I am not wrong for openly expressing my love for Allah and for Islam.
From an Islamic perspective, as long as our intentions are sincere and we continue to self-reflect and check ourselves, expressing love for Allah openly is not just permitted, it is encouraged and beloved.
From any other perspective, I must kindly remind people…
And as an American citizen and a human being… under both the First Amendment and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (and other established principles of customary international law)… I am entitled to the freedom of expression and freedom of religion.
As I have stated in many other blog pieces, I choose authenticity, and I intend to walk into every space as my whole self. I speak the “language of my soul.”
And If “SubhanAllah” or “Alhamdulillah” escapes my lips in a professional setting, I will not apologize. These are not just words, they are expressions of being, so natural for a Muslim, especially when it is all you are feeling throughout the day.
This is what happens to your soul when you realize that Allah has to be sufficient….when your soul finally accepts….Hasbunallah wa ni’amal wakeel…
And perhaps you were never meant to find love or belonging anywhere in this Dunya, but here… with Allah.
Here, in this Love, in this Surrender, there is some Refuge.
And this is something no one can take from me. Even by removing a cloth from my head.
It was attempted before, but I suppose it didn’t work.
I tried to run away… I would eventually find my way back to harnessing that “language of the soul,” over and over again.
Sometimes that part of you, the ego, just has to accept defeat…when you know you can’t keep suppressing your truth.
Because the very definition of Islam… is to Surrender.
I’ve always said I speak my truth unapologetically and speak truth to power. But what does that mean if I can’t even speak this truth… of this profound love for Allah… because it makes others uncomfortable? Particularly those who claim to have a superior race and religion?
Must I keep this burning truth hidden further than the vulnerable, authentic stories of my depression and suicidality that naturally come out without fear … Just because the knowledge of my suffering or my death may be more appealing or comfortable to some than my devotion to Allah?
I intend to continue to practice my religious freedom and my freedom of expression.
And I do not have to tolerate cringe, shame, scrutiny, judgment, or mockery, wherever it comes from, even from my fellow Muslim brothers and sisters.
Because sadly, it does come from there, too.
Nor do I have to tolerate Islamophobia from any corner of my personal or professional life, whether it’s loud or silent, overt or passive.
If one struggles with what I share, if you take issue with my paintings, my prayers, or anything I share about Islam, hijab, or women in Islam…on social media, or in this space, then I respectfully ask you to reflect and ask yourself why…
This space honors all forms of authenticity, unapologetically.
I have struggled with those who continue to quietly observe all of what I post online in my social media accounts… especially with judgment, resentment, or confusion, and without engagement.
It is especially concerning if people lack any understanding of how religion, identity, and politics are inseparable, especially for people who come from marginalized backgrounds and hold multiple intersectional challenges.
For so long, I have been unsure what to do with those people, those who I know personally, who watch silently. Because if you watch and never engage, especially if your friend is creating, writing, sharing art, they are deserving of support, and you are contributing to their erasure and invisibility. It is an injustice.
And if there is negative judgment in your hearts towards people of a faith you choose not to understand, there is no purpose for us to have any further connection.
I know it’s not always easy to tell who holds this kind of heart, especially if only a small percentage may pay attention to your words or see value in it…
But I still feel a responsibility to keep reminding people of the importance of religious tolerance, and what bigotry truly is, and how we can be complicit in that bigotry.
That hate… that silent reluctance to learn, to listen, to understand… is still complicity.
And that complicity feeds the violent culture that continues to “other” 2.1 billion Muslims around the world… many of whom have been bombed, displaced, and dehumanized as a direct result of this state-sanctioned bigotry… a bigotry that often begins in the unchecked corners of the heart…
…it is all connected, and it is all part of the necessary “inward and outward revolution”…
We are reminded of this violence every day…as Muslims... when we are forced to live by the Gregorian calendar while our own Hijri calendar is ignored and erased as a remnant of colonial domination, not just in the West but even in most Muslim-Majority countries…
…When we are made to feel afraid or awkward.. for placing our “foot in a sink” …just to perform ablution, the act that cleanses our bodies and souls before we surrender to Allah in salah…
In certain places, especially here in America, this simple ritual becomes a metaphor for the larger fear of being visibly Muslim.
And yet, this is the very core of our faith…as the “Ummah of Sujood…”
This is the world we have to live in...where practicing and honoring our faith becomes an act of resistance. Where remembering Allah openly is perceived too “political.” Where loving our deen unapologetically is seen as dangerous.
And yet, I will love openly, worship freely… and resist gently but firmly… in all of my writings and art…though my presence and my prayer.
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You are not behind. You are right on time.
There was a time I used to look at the back of my hand and feel an immense sadness… at the wrinkles, the lines, the signs of aging… I remember, even 10 years ago…
And then in the past few years, thinking about how fast time was moving.. and all the time I felt I lost to make something of myself.. to be somebody… to find love…
But now, when I look at the back of my hand, I see the image of the hand that touched the House of God…the Holy Kaabah…
I see the replay of my little brother, who sacrificed his own moment, to lift me up over all those Pilgrims, so that I could be the one to touch it, and I pray that the image will never fade away.
All I could say at that moment, with all my heart, was “Allahu Akbar.”
And hopefully, that was enough.
It was such a brief moment, but still.. such an intimate one…between my soul, my body, and its Creator.
Those lines I once grieved have now become a reminder, proof that I was there. That Allah (swt) called me. They have become lines of love and surrender to a new beginning… something I never expected would come…
As we enter this new Hijri year, as a mid-year reflection, and as I’m also approaching the end of my milestone birth year…
I have reflected on what seems to be a divine synchronicity, knowing that our beloved Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) was granted Prophethood at the age of 40.
And with that, Allah (swt) gave me a gift… a reminder that, I am not behind. I have not missed anything. I have been reborn… & I am only just beginning.
When I say Labaik, I am Here. I mean it with all of me.
My voice, art, writing…my hands. Even the lines and stories I no longer fear within me… releasing “the burden of the untold story” in my heart.. as Dr. Maya Angelou would say.,.
This return to “the language of the soul” is an opportunity… for the “inward and outward revolution”… And I don’t plan on running from it, this time.
May this moment of renewal bring us mercy, strength, peace, and barakah, as we return, reflect, and rise in the remembrance of Allah (swt), …. and reclaim our spaces to do so authentically.
May 1447 AH, inshaAllah be an epic year of return, remembrance, and renewal… a year of rising with faith… and walking forward fearlessly…
A new year… a new chance to hit refresh on our faith, purpose, and love for Al-Mahbub…the most Beloved… and our revolutionary love for humanity.
Hijri New Year Mubarak …1447 AH.
Allahu Akbar.
Ameen.
In Solidarity, Peace, Warmth, and Blessings,
Your sister,
Dr. Elsa, Warrior KQueen
“She wasn’t looking for a Knight. She was looking for a Sword.” – Atticus
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