Heaviness of Remembering

More serious than I think.
More heavy.
More grave.
More isolating.
Life, and it's true meaning.
Your presence in it. Your connections to it. Your responsibility towards it. Your perception of it.
If we weren't driven by systems, by routines, by rush, we would stop..and then we would be really afraid, really grey, blue, whatever. We would feel the true strength we behold, none. We would remember that we are leaving..leaving..gone.
We would stop and feel the heaviness of remembering. Of seeing life as it really is. Of seeing our responsibility towards it just as heavy and as scary.
Isolation..even if only in your head, can be good for you. You can redefine, re asses, review everything.
Ask yourself the questions that take some time to answer. Or rather..take some time to have the courage to pull its answer from deep within..where you hide it. Behind all that clutter of the rush of life.
Isolation. Why do you do everything you do ?
Everything you do, every move you take, every word you make, is documented.
But Allah is the most merciful.
Losing entity in the world. Losing character. Losing principles. It's not hard for that to happen, it's not hard for that to happen without you noticing it happening.
Close your cell phone. And feel the heaviness.
You need to be comfortable with the heaviness, so you can let it steer you into the lightness.
From the fear of facing truth, to the vulnerability and hope and fear of following it.

6/11/2015

ساعة صفا

الهدف آخرة. 

بس في هدف في الدنيا..أو في مكان. 

ماعرف لسا.

بس اتأكدت ان الوسيلة لأي مكان مقدّر لنا نروحه، اننا ما نقفل قلبنا، و اننا نستعين بالله يخلي قلبنا نضيف كفاية انو بصيرتنا ما تنطمس. 

Insomnia

Sitting up in bed at 2:32, paying my dues to the pains that are demanding to be felt.

Insomnia is the punishment we get when we don't feel the things that need to be felt, or when we don't think the thoughts that need to be thought. 

Well played, brain.

Hero

It's 1:21 am.

It's been an exhausting week. 

My daily lack of sleep is building up. 

I'm in over debt with sleep. 

And my body has this thing that it does that drives me crazy.

When I get TOO tired, I get insomniac.

It's insane.

Like can you please make sense ? Because you're not.

Anyhow.

It's 1:21 and I'm in bed for ages now.

I check my Ask (yes I still use it, I know it's pre-historic, and I don't care) for the random questions it suggests.

I get this question: 

What is the most heroic thing you've ever done ?

And I remembered my story from the ICU today. 

So I held this woman's hand. 

She was in the ICU. 

I took her case. 

As I was checking her charts, I noticed they were removing her breathing tubes, so I wanted to see. 

The room was filled with nurses. 

All I could see, though, were her eyes.

Now, mostly in the ICU, you'd expect patients to be unconscious, right ?

Yeah, me too. 

And I believe they wouldn't have wanted it in any other way. It's a very itchy place.

Beepings never stop. It's quite, cold, and there are no windows. You don't know how long you've been sleeping, don't know what day it is, what time it is and what exactly happened to you. 

And you find yourself in grey rooms that feel like cold metal and desperation, that reek of sickness. It's a demonstration of humanity's attempts against its own futility.

The patient is surrounded with machines.
Endless lines and monitors.
The rooms are relatively spacious, which is worse. There's room in there..and it feels worse, because it's empty, except for all those machines.

So this patient was conscious, unlike the majority of patients there. 

She was a middle aged woman. She underwent an open heart surgery and was admitted for post-op complications. 

But she was conscious and all. 

And this woman had fear screaming in her eyes.
Her eyes screamed so loud to me, it ached my heart.

They were so wide.

I could tell she was wondering how close she is to dying. 

It made my heart sink. 

Like all those people around her and all these expert doctors in this great facility yet not one of these people sensed how mortified this woman was.

How all she needed was a hand to hold. 

She couldn't speak because of all the tubes. 

She was gesturing, she wanted someone to hold her hand. 

So I did. 

And I assured her with my eyes, and squeezed her hand. 

Before they removed the tubes she was gesturing something else to me but I didn't understand. Then I realized she was asking me not to leave her. I said I won't.

And just seeing how different her eyes were right then...

She had the look of a wounded prey that had just found shelter.  

I was there when they removed it and I saw how painful it was. 

She later told me she felt they were killing her. 

When she was able to speak again, she prayed for me.

Such prayers aren't like any other prayers. 

My heart squeezed in on itself. 

I wiped her tears and told her she's okay.

Before I left I asked if she needed anything. She said she wished for fresh pomegranate juice.
And you wouldn't believe it, I got her just that lol. I got pomegranate juice for an ICU patient.
Wow huh.

So yeah, these are the kind of moments one should write about. 

And that, folks, is the silver lining of insomnia;

I wrote my heart-warming story. 

Good night. 

4th of January, 2016.