Fractured Faith
January 1, 2020 was a beautiful day!
I was buzzing from a happy high — a reasonable stock of hugs from my parents, time spent with friends and family, and that delicious December distraction. Boarding the flight from Jinnah International Airport that early morning, with two of my closest friends (accompanying me half-way to my destination), I was all set for 2020. Armed with my loaded supply of hope!
Now, I understand that there is a fine line between being hopeful and being in denial. Being hopeful is more like an innate faith that whatever will be (despite the challenges/re-directions/setbacks) will ultimately lead to good. Being in denial is more like an intentional avoiding, almost rejecting of realities. I’m capable of being in both. Sometimes, simultaneously.
For instance, I avoid news like a plague (hard to do these days since it’s all about it!) when the world seems to be doing something silly. And for hope, most days I have an ample supply. The source though springs from my loved ones. That long conversation with my Baba, watching my mother pray, or getting cuddles from my sister’s kids — they make the world a better place. A constant reminder of love, belonging and blessings. My custom power-bank for joy, resilience and hope.
Six months into 2020 — and it becomes the longest I’ve ever lived without physically being around a family member. A feeling that makes me feel like there is a bit less of me. “Boohoo’’, ‘’get on with it’’, “first world problems’’, “stay positive”, etcetera etcetera, many would say. Sure, but if only it were that simple.
The first few weeks of March, I successfully eluded reading/believing the possibility of COVID-19 becoming what it has today. Not even a 78-hour quarantine (read: solitary confinement) deterred my hopes. I kept praying for warmer weather, miraculous human immunity to this ominous flu, ensured profuse hand-washing and went about planning my dances and outfits for my top best friend’s wedding. Potentially denial or perhaps a sweet utopian ignorance.
Short lived bliss — as soon, my actual and virtual news feed was inundated with everything COVID-19. Constant reminders of the havoc and loss it has brought and continues to bring globally. Nerve-racking, scary and humbling, all at the same time. Global travel restrictions were imposed and the possibility of being with my loved ones became an uncertain prospect.
Being in a land, where I barely know a few, the realization that I am not there where I should be, sank in. And in those moments, when you’re neither in denial and definitely not in hope, a void begets. This void then becomes an alluring lodge for panic, fear and despair. That’s when you’re on an express lane to a fractured faith.
It’s easy, actually human- to become entangled in that space. The panic-inducing news, the scary stories, the massive spread and the acknowledgement that we are in a global pandemic are certainly not what we, as a species, are accustomed to. Us, humans, addicted to instant gratification, touch-screens, swipe right/left, virtual validation, digital dependency, fast food, fast everything — lost in a rut of a fast and a frangible existence. Naturally then, when we don’t get the answers, the fast food kinda way -we lose it. And lose, I almost did. The happy memories, the countless blessings and being digitally connected with all of mine, were not enough to combat the gloom.
An obvious indication clearly, of the fragility of my faith.
Knowing the feats and strides humans have and are capable of achieving, why then is it so tough to handle this? Why then does hope become so elusive? I don’t know. What I do know is that it takes patience, conviction and an unwavering faith to surrender, to let be. Easier said than done, as the mind, mostly obsessed with the external, exacerbates all scenarios to doomsday. This then impacts our entire being. This then impairs our ability to be in the present. This then demeans our existence to aimless pawns of circumstance vs experiencing life as divine spiritual beings. Why is it that we are so obsessed with what happens next? The Universe existed before us, and shall continue long after we’re gone. The trees, the mountains, the birds and the seas- when they surrender to the One — then why can’t we?
Sufis say that we learn best in opposites. We learn about love through separation, we learn about bliss via pain — perhaps I am exactly where I need to be, to learn the exact opposite of that fractured faith.
