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The Internal Jihad
Running from a DePaul Democrats meeting to the Brown Line el train, I dropped my bright green binder for my Peer Theory and Education class on the sidewalk of Fullerton Avenue. Someone stepped on it accidentally. I frowned, wiping off the speckles of mud.
I walked in late to Lost and Found: My Journey To Islam, an event hosted by UMMA, DePaul’s Muslim Students Association. Sitting in the back row, I shoved my bright green binder and my bag under my chair, and listened to five stories full of struggle and hope. Five stories of an internal jihad, the struggle inside your own mind. Five stories of people who lost many things, but gained one common thing: Islam. One woman who spoke talked about losing her mother, her only parent growing up, and almost losing her husband.
And all I could think was what struggles I had been through, and sometimes how trivial they seem compared to this. That we have so much to learn, because our problems are going to be far worse than muddy green binders in the days to come.
By
Hafsa Arain
|
May 4, 2007; 5:03 PM ET
| Category:
Salaam Chicago
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Posted by: Barrett | May 14, 2007 2:10 AM
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I agree about seeing the bigger picture.
But with the "bigger" non-binder things, I find it very hard to draw the line about where/when/how we stop belittling our own suffering. Granted we use the "it could be worse" to help us move on and inspire compassion within ourselves, at times I feel like it can be equally detrimental to the process of "feeling." >>insert melodramatic music cue here<< If we constantly tell ourselves not to be upset or to move on quickly, I think we run the danger of becoming numb to both others and ourselves.