Difficult Conversations
I learned about sacred spaces from my mother like most. It was the one time when my voice was more muted. The hushed tones and fervent glances. The confessions and gossip flowed as the elders tried to work through solutions or just smack talk that jerk to ease the pain or hurt.
It was with my daddy that I realized that men have these sacred spaces as well. The vets would talk about the PTSD, their wives, children and more. They would whisper in fright and desperation, with the old timers laughing at the young combat vets. It didn’t help that I was fearless; learned and employed sniper tactics; and have a horrible babble.
My family tried desperately to get me to understand that snitches get stitches. I seemed to tell when I shouldn’t and not when I should. This problem with me had an unintended outcome. It helped to bridge the divide between the sacred spaces of various groups. They all realized that the mystery and secrecy was foolish. I became neutral ground for children and adults alike very young. I also learned the power that I held because of it.
The elders of various groups would try to explain my uniqueness; how I was different from basically everyone; how others felt about my uniqueness; and that my life would be an extremely difficult one because of it. They tried to give me various examples of my uniqueness from the Bible and history to modern entertainment as a way to explain me. They tried to arm me with as much knowledge as possible from the holy to the profane in an effort to give me balance and perspective. They didn’t know what my life would be but they did their best. It’s not well charted territory.
During the trafficking, I watched a movie, Temple Grandin. Words can’t express how seen I felt from the first words to the last. My life was far different from theirs but it was comforting to not feel like the only person who was born female and unique. I was Rain Man but not a man and high functioning. I was Adrian Monk but conquered my fears. I was Sheldon Cooper without the degrees but having empathy. It was empowering to see myself reflected back in one single person.
For me, sacred spaces are where we gain courage, wisdom and strength to do battle with life. It’s the armor that we carry with us wherever we go and in whatever we do. When our armor is weakened and battle worn, we return to our sacred spaces to replenish ourselves for the next battle.
In Islam our battles are fought in two places. The inner jihad or greater jihad is the struggle that we must each face alone. We gain comfort and understanding in our sacred spaces to overcome our inner demons. The more well known jihad is the outer or lesser jihad. It is the struggle to overcome societal demons and oppression. The only way to be successful in the lesser jihad is to be centered in the inner jihad. We gain comfort and wisdom for both jihadun in our sacred spaces.
Join me and we’ll fight al-jihadun together with love, laughter, and ALL the tea, honey child. We will bring light into the darkness and make the world less frightening for all.
Tea is Life and we’ve got plenty of it right here in Nebraska.
Let’s get to spilling it, for ummah wahid! *
Ma’salam.
Min sadiqatuk, Drsy.
From your friend,
Miss Darcy
Ummah Wahid is the Islamic belief that all people are one nation, one family. The stated religious beliefs or any other affiliations of the individual are meaningless. We are all the same. We are all equal. We all belong to the same family. We embrace each other with love, understanding and respect for one another and our uniquenesses.
