So beautiful, so heart-touching, Noha. I didn’t grow up with a religious or spiritual practice. Now, as an adult, spirituality and living according to Buddhist ethics is my compass, refuge, and woven into every day.
To be the family mythologizer is to make meaning as life unfolds, holding and remembering what always was. I can smell the dust in that red carpet. I can see the dust motes floating in and out of the beams of sunshine as you prepare to pray. It is so generous to let us into your memories; to reveal how tenuous it feels now, knowing we're weaving the mythology for our own children. I think for every family there is holding and displacement, no matter how far we go from where we're from. But your experience makes it even more poignant.
"Knowing we're weaving the mythology for our own children" - having moved back to my childhood neighbourhood with my own children, I think they are tired of the number of times I tell them, "your khaltos (aunts) and I used to play here/bike past that store, throw our arms up in reckless abandon as we slid down that hill, etc etc etc".
I am alternately the most practical person and the person most filled with nostalgia... The neighbourhood is both a myth and a reality. The mosque is both my childhood and my here and now.
"Oh Allah make me the kind of parent whose children look back on their childhood the way I look back on mine, with so much love, I grieve it every day.” My heart feels this. Thank you for sharing! <3
I was raised Pentecostal, a form of evangelical Christianity that emphasizes spiritual "gifts" such as speaking in tongues, healing, and prophecy. It was a bad fit for me as an introverted and cerebral young man, but I learned to play guitar so I could hide in plain sight. I could be outwardly demonstrative while finding sanctuary in the music. Your essay reminded me of that refuge.
As a young adult, I rejected my religious upbringing and spent at least two decades somewhat angrily embracing humanism. My memoir tells the story of coming "down from the mountaintop" of that revival culture. I'm still a humanist, but I've often found it isolating. Community is hard to find in secular spaces, at least there are few equivalents to church communities.
But I've been attending a Quaker meeting for about eight months now. The meeting observes an hour of silence. Occasionally that silence is broken when individuals are led to share, but often it is just a rich space of silence -- the very sanctuary I was looking for in the music all those years ago. I am what others call a "non-theistic Quaker." And in that regard I'm still a little skeptical about the origins of the movement. But its emphasis on simplicity -- a ceremony that is almost an anti-ceremony -- and a radical commitment to equality, with no ministers or priests or hierarchy, feels like home.
I have spent a lot of time thinking about how difficult it is to find community outside of faith spaces. For my early "adult" years, my born family was my community. Everyone was around - the kids had their cousins, our holidays were just together by default, etc. etc.
When most of my born family moved away, I leaned heavily on my faith community to define a new "chosen family" and they were critical to not feeling alone. But it took time to find the right mosque/community for us. There are so many, and they might be fine for others but we wanted the one where we'd feel at home...
I've had a few Quaker friends over the years. Their ethics, commitment to equality, and approach to the world is admirable, and I think if you can find sanctuary and commonality in that, it's very valuable.
The idea of the music allowing you to hide in plain sight is so interesting. And your memoir sounds fascinating!!
I wonder how differently I would be if my family had deep roots in faith. But it took me a long time to learn it’s not how you start, or how you finish- it’s your own relationship to Him.
So many what ifs! We have an expression that says, " 'if only' is the wording of the devil".
I think the expression is meant to help you not spend too much energy on regrets, jealousy, wondering what might have been.
I think you're right - it's your relationship to Him, and that relationship is so personal and He knows what's in your heart and mind, not just how you may appear to those on the outside.
We also have the idea that two people's reward might be completely different, based on their circumstances. So if you came to Him without any support, your reward is much higher than someone who was led there so clearly. Because it means your heart was already seeking Him and you're pure of heart.
I'm not sure if I'm articulating this well at all lol. I think what I'm trying to say is you are arriving in your own way and your own time, and your heart is beautiful.
The keeper of the memories -- this is a role I play in my own family. Certainly my brothers have their own, and we mix and match our stories, mine affected by my place as the youngest and only girl. But they seem less interested in getting to the heart of things (or maybe it's just their man-ness?), to the parts that bring the tears.
I loved every word of this, Noha, and the future thanks you for writing it all down.
You have such a unique position, Elizabeth! I have three other sisters, all interested in reminiscing with me, though I am the only one situated in the place where it all happened. So I'm taking videos of the river path we used to bike on as I go for my lunch time walks. I'm recording the kids playing with their friends in the park we used to play in.
and then we take turns bringing the tears - depending on who's feeling the most emotional 😂
I remember rolling into the house, out of breath, on roller skates, when I was 7 years old and hearing my parents and their friends reciting. I sat quietly in the hallway, outside the door and tears fell down my face. I understood that it was the recitation that was moving something in me, and that that resulted in tears. It's a memory changes the way I look at a 7 year old...
How good it is to gain a little insight into another culture and religious tradition, one so often frowned upon in the(all too shallow) west. So beautifully and sensitively written, too. Thank you!
So beautiful, so heart-touching, Noha. I didn’t grow up with a religious or spiritual practice. Now, as an adult, spirituality and living according to Buddhist ethics is my compass, refuge, and woven into every day.
I’m so glad you found something that fulfils you, Dana.
To be the family mythologizer is to make meaning as life unfolds, holding and remembering what always was. I can smell the dust in that red carpet. I can see the dust motes floating in and out of the beams of sunshine as you prepare to pray. It is so generous to let us into your memories; to reveal how tenuous it feels now, knowing we're weaving the mythology for our own children. I think for every family there is holding and displacement, no matter how far we go from where we're from. But your experience makes it even more poignant.
"Knowing we're weaving the mythology for our own children" - having moved back to my childhood neighbourhood with my own children, I think they are tired of the number of times I tell them, "your khaltos (aunts) and I used to play here/bike past that store, throw our arms up in reckless abandon as we slid down that hill, etc etc etc".
I am alternately the most practical person and the person most filled with nostalgia... The neighbourhood is both a myth and a reality. The mosque is both my childhood and my here and now.
"Oh Allah make me the kind of parent whose children look back on their childhood the way I look back on mine, with so much love, I grieve it every day.” My heart feels this. Thank you for sharing! <3
Thank you so much, Emmy! I hope you felt it because you had a similar experience. I hope I can be half the parent I had...
I think you're already doing an amazing job. I can feel it through the heart, thoughtfulness and intention you put into your writing!
I was raised Pentecostal, a form of evangelical Christianity that emphasizes spiritual "gifts" such as speaking in tongues, healing, and prophecy. It was a bad fit for me as an introverted and cerebral young man, but I learned to play guitar so I could hide in plain sight. I could be outwardly demonstrative while finding sanctuary in the music. Your essay reminded me of that refuge.
As a young adult, I rejected my religious upbringing and spent at least two decades somewhat angrily embracing humanism. My memoir tells the story of coming "down from the mountaintop" of that revival culture. I'm still a humanist, but I've often found it isolating. Community is hard to find in secular spaces, at least there are few equivalents to church communities.
But I've been attending a Quaker meeting for about eight months now. The meeting observes an hour of silence. Occasionally that silence is broken when individuals are led to share, but often it is just a rich space of silence -- the very sanctuary I was looking for in the music all those years ago. I am what others call a "non-theistic Quaker." And in that regard I'm still a little skeptical about the origins of the movement. But its emphasis on simplicity -- a ceremony that is almost an anti-ceremony -- and a radical commitment to equality, with no ministers or priests or hierarchy, feels like home.
Joshua, thank you so much for sharing your story.
I have spent a lot of time thinking about how difficult it is to find community outside of faith spaces. For my early "adult" years, my born family was my community. Everyone was around - the kids had their cousins, our holidays were just together by default, etc. etc.
When most of my born family moved away, I leaned heavily on my faith community to define a new "chosen family" and they were critical to not feeling alone. But it took time to find the right mosque/community for us. There are so many, and they might be fine for others but we wanted the one where we'd feel at home...
I've had a few Quaker friends over the years. Their ethics, commitment to equality, and approach to the world is admirable, and I think if you can find sanctuary and commonality in that, it's very valuable.
The idea of the music allowing you to hide in plain sight is so interesting. And your memoir sounds fascinating!!
I wonder how differently I would be if my family had deep roots in faith. But it took me a long time to learn it’s not how you start, or how you finish- it’s your own relationship to Him.
So many what ifs! We have an expression that says, " 'if only' is the wording of the devil".
I think the expression is meant to help you not spend too much energy on regrets, jealousy, wondering what might have been.
I think you're right - it's your relationship to Him, and that relationship is so personal and He knows what's in your heart and mind, not just how you may appear to those on the outside.
We also have the idea that two people's reward might be completely different, based on their circumstances. So if you came to Him without any support, your reward is much higher than someone who was led there so clearly. Because it means your heart was already seeking Him and you're pure of heart.
I'm not sure if I'm articulating this well at all lol. I think what I'm trying to say is you are arriving in your own way and your own time, and your heart is beautiful.
Beautiful as always Noha. I’m so glad to have discovered your writing!
Thank you so much, Imola.
I think nostalgia is only for good memories :)
This was such a lovely article, thank you!
I think so too!
So glad you enjoyed it.
The keeper of the memories -- this is a role I play in my own family. Certainly my brothers have their own, and we mix and match our stories, mine affected by my place as the youngest and only girl. But they seem less interested in getting to the heart of things (or maybe it's just their man-ness?), to the parts that bring the tears.
I loved every word of this, Noha, and the future thanks you for writing it all down.
You have such a unique position, Elizabeth! I have three other sisters, all interested in reminiscing with me, though I am the only one situated in the place where it all happened. So I'm taking videos of the river path we used to bike on as I go for my lunch time walks. I'm recording the kids playing with their friends in the park we used to play in.
and then we take turns bringing the tears - depending on who's feeling the most emotional 😂
What a gift you are to one another. Just wonderful.
Beautiful Noha 🙏
Thank you, Dee!
I remember rolling into the house, out of breath, on roller skates, when I was 7 years old and hearing my parents and their friends reciting. I sat quietly in the hallway, outside the door and tears fell down my face. I understood that it was the recitation that was moving something in me, and that that resulted in tears. It's a memory changes the way I look at a 7 year old...
That’s incredible. Children can be old souls too
This is such a beautiful evocation of both prayer and memory. Magical to read
Thank you so much Daniela! I'm so glad you liked it.
How good it is to gain a little insight into another culture and religious tradition, one so often frowned upon in the(all too shallow) west. So beautifully and sensitively written, too. Thank you!