apropos of anything

Ramadan. It keeps me busy. I feel like I’m doing less than I did last year, despite all my lofty intentions going into the month, and I’m a little disappointed in myself. There are still about ten days to go, though, so insha’Allah, I’ll be make use of them so fully that next year I can say, if only I can do as much as last year! Insha’Allah.

One of my Ramadan goals this year was to stop listening to music for the full thirty days. I make this goal every year and rarely do I keep it even through the second week, so I guess one of the positive things this year is that I’ve done it so far. I like background noise, so giving up music is hard; I have it on in the car, all day at work, and often when I come home, too, so I don’t freak myself out by hearing imaginary things in the walls. This year I’m substituting the Quran, Hamza Yusuf’s Purification of the Heart series (not the greatest audio, sadly), and various nasheeds, particularly Native Deen because their stuff is handy and sometimes I get lazy.

But anyway, I’m off track. Apparently fasting and not sleeping much make me long-winded.

One of the Native Deen songs that sticks in my head (is that defeating the purpose of not listening to music, if their songs repeat themselves in my head?) is about the small deeds you do, and how they can make more of a difference than all the grand gestures in the world. And then Reza Aslan echoes that sentiment in No god but God when he says, “benevolence and care for the poor were the first and most endearing virtues preached by Muhammad” and then follows up that line by quoting verse 177 from Surah Baqarah, the verse that says that piety lies in such things as fulfilling our contracts, being generous and charitable, and having patience.

Patience.

It’s something I never seem to have enough of, either because I’m always finding myself in situations that require a lot of it, or because I don’t really have enough to start with in the first place. I’m trying to be more patient, but sometimes I think I’m doomed for Crotchety Old Lady-ville, if I’m not already an honorary resident.

(I’m sorry, but letting your children careen recklessly around somebody else’s house, screaming like banshees, while you chat blithely to your friends as though nothing were wrong? IS RUDE. And if that makes me a crotchety old lady, let me just grab my knitting needles so you can point me in the right direction of town.)

Ken says I am a hot-spot for drama. I think he only says that because the drama-filled stories are the most interesting, so they’re the ones he remembers, and also because he considers my leaky roof to be dramatic. I have had a lot of drama lately (or at least been adjacent to a lot of it), beginning with when I paged Miss Manners (so okay, it wasn’t quite so hypothetical as all that) in August. I thought I resolved that situation like a mature adult. Next came some wedding-related drama for a friend, and then some friend-related drama for a friend, and I found myself repeating over and over, that “the retribution for an injury is an equal injury, but those who forgive the injury and make reconciliation will be rewarded by God.” (42:40) It’s hard to do, though.

Now I’m back with Miss Manners again, trying to take the advice I’ve dispensed out to others. Be patient. Forgive it, let it go. It’s not so bad as all that. Maybe that does make me a pushover, to let myself once again be the object of rudeness, especially after I’ve already tried to talk the situation out once. Maybe I should have more pride and self-respect than to do this yet again.

I can do with a little less pride, though, and someone else’s rudeness doesn’t hurt my self-respect. I could also do with more patience, and perhaps this is the way I get some. God does say that He tests us in the ways that are hardest for us.

Right, so that was long and rambly and preachy, and I apologize, but Ramadan is in my head, so I can’t do light and fluffy, like how I cute I think Ugly Betty is or whether I should cave and buy the new Star Wars releases, because the words, they won’t come. My head is somewhere else. The real question, as Shabina asks, is what will happen in November, after Ramadan ends, where my head will go, and whether I’ll still think about things like patience and how I can get more.

Also (final postscript, I promise!) Rashaad has a good piece that relates to the Miss Manners question too.