22 but 44

Hello :)

As usual, this is a late-night rambling...

I think in the course of my lifetime I've grown and learned faster than most people my age. I can't say that it's been in the right direction, so as of yet this can't be proven as something to be proud of! I always joke about the fact that I'm actually in my 40s, emotionally and mentally, and for a while I resented this- I don't know if I still do or not, but I think I'm coming to terms with it.

As a disclaimer, I'd just like to say that my observations on my growth and perhaps maturity isn't me tooting my own horn-rather it's a reflection on who I think I am. Just making sure that's clear!

I've always had a hefty share of responsibility in my family. I'll give you a background on this. My mom is the 4th of 8, and my dad is the 3rd of 8. With much confidence, I can say that they are both the most dependable out of their siblings. My dad has been helping support his whole family since he was 15. He gave up a college career and his youth to be a breadwinner. His whole life though, he's believed that it's not the circumstances that make a person, it's the person that makes the circumstances. He's the most dedicated hard worker that I will ever know. He also cares, deeply, about his family. My mom is his rock. Without her support and patience to some difficulty they went through when they first moved here, we wouldn't be where we are as a family. My mom is beyond explanation...there are literally no words that can describe her. I am lucky to be in the presence of such a woman. Alhamdulillah. She's never had to explain anything or tell my why or how things needed to be a certain way-her example and character and confidence spoke volumes.

Pretty long background, but it's pretty important. My parents, after living their whole lives in support of others, expect nothing less from their kids. Make sense? The bar has always been very high in my family. Exceptions were never made, and my parents made it clear to us, ever since we were younger, who we were and who we needed to be. It wasn't a definition of personality, rather a definition of character. Me and my siblings range from ditz to jock to bum to whatever, but there's always been a line that can't be crossed.

One of those lines is investment in family and the realization of one's role. When I was younger, this was definitely a difficult point for me and my parents. I never went through the whole rebellious teenager phase, but I was kinda worn out...It's not that we had any more chores or had unusual responsibilities, no. It's that our parents involved us in their lives as if we were adults. This was the best and worst thing that they've done, and I'll tell you why.

I believe that at every age and stage in life, a person is ready for things and is at a certain maturity where they are able to handle something. I speculate that my parents, having been through so much in their youth-both kids of working class Palestinian refugees in a highly racist and classist Kuwait, did not see that they were putting any pressure on us that was out of the ordinary. We were involved in the decision making, stress, working-through, and thought process of almost every aspect of their (and our) life...finances, extended family, school...I still joke with my dad about the fact that I had to fill out our citizenship applications at 14.

This is were a kid or a teenager or young adult will have a hard time. Taking on the role of an adult at a young age. Not even only on a practical level, but an emotional one. Like I said earlier, I usually am the point of communication/reconciliation, or what have you, between my parents and siblings. My parents are far far beyond the cultural and social barriers of immigrants-they are actually amazingly adapted and independently thinking, mashallah. The difficulty, then, was habits and traits that they picked up from their families. Another joke (cause what else can you do with crap you need to deal with?), is the Hannon anger. Anyone with this last name will either be a)angry b)volatile c)reformed d)chill. We'll get back to which one I am later.

So, to summarize the above, I had a lot of responsibility. A lot of accountability. A lot of results expected without coaching-I learned to coach myself through things, to help myself, to fix things on my own, to self-soothe when I was uncomfortable. I didn't want my siblings to do this, so I've played that role for them. Anyone that has Arab family knows the no-nonsense approach to everything...Get over it, fix it, don't over-think, etc. This aspect has carried over into my personality, but I think I realize the limitations of people, and that every person is going through a struggle internally, externally, that they are literally the hero of.


For a while, and I'll honestly say I've only gotten over it recently, I was really tired. Exhausted: mentally, physically, emotionally. I love my family and respect the cycle of giving, but I felt like I was giving too much. My resources were being depleted. I had so much drama on my own, so much to take care of, so many things to deal with and will still need to deal with through the course of my life, that I thought it was unfair that anyone ask me to be or do anything beyond a reasonable measure. I kept telling myself that this was the manifestation of a cycle. My parents also were tired. They were worked when they were young. They gave and gave and had kids early and immigrated and made an amazing life from scratch. It was their turn to rest, and my turn to work. Mind you, this wasn't on purpose. It was a completely natural and organic process that none of us observed or were aware of. I just think too much. The resentment kicks in when I think of my own kids.

What if I repeat the cycle? That's not fair to anyone. So do I pick up a double shift and break it? Do I work this hard keeping my family intact, being a therapist/counselor/coach to 5 other people when I had no crutch of my own? I don't like to talk to my friends about issues. I don't know how. I don't find comfort in telling anyone anything...I've stuck to the saying "advice from people, comfort from Allah". I didn't -and perhaps still don't-care for comfort from anyone. Maybe that's my problem?

So after my overactive mind goes through all these things- from the decision that my parents having me at 19 and 22 was way too young and irresponsible, to wondering what life would be like if I wasn't as receptive to their teaching and ways, to what if I just leave...?

Then reality steps in, and so does my common sense, and most importantly, iman. Now I won't lie to myself and you, my random reader. It's not that I reach some sort of Nirvana about this. I'm still annoyed, still wanting to change things, and whatever. But the only difference is that I've learned to use negative sentiments as energy for change. As inspiration, if you will. I don't care to dwell because I don't like being emotionally unproductive. My friends tell me I think like a guy...which I think really cheats them of the beauty of emotional and mental strength they can achieve. I don't think that's attributable to any gender, and neither is being caring or emotional in a healthy manner. All that gender stuff is a bunch of junk to me and I think a guy or girl can have the best of both worlds in their head and heart. But that's a tangent.

So I was saying that these things step in. And Allah alone provides comfort...He sent his Prophet, may Allah's peace and blessings be upon him, and the prophet said, "Sadaqah (charity) does not decrease wealth." How does this relate, dear reader? My wealth is what I can give my friends and family on a non-material level. I can't support them with money, and depending on Allah's rizq for me I don't know if I'll ever get the chance to. I have duties and responsibilities that if I don't fulfill, I'm not performing my function as a sister, daughter, friend, muslimah...and that puts me at a deficiency. But when more is taken from me than what I can apparently handle, and I think, as I stated way earlier that my resources are being depleted....I'm forgetting who my sustainer is. Those resources that, if my mind is thinking clearly, I consider sadaqah, will renew themselves naturally. My energy, my strength, my emotional scale that can only handle a certain amount...this charity that I give, inshallah, will not decrease my wealth.

So I come to the conclusion that I'll break down in a more visually appearing manner because I will need to re-read this when I want to quit my job as Mariam.

-Allah is the source of strength and any virtue or quality or provisions anyone possesses.
-Thus, they belong to Allah.
-If I acknowledge this and give out of what I have in full recognition of Allah's ownership over me, knowing that Sadaqah does not decrease wealth, then:
-The urge to quit or the feeling of being depleted is my nafs, and:
-I am able to be for people what they need me to be without having to find it difficult, and:
-Allah, azza wa jal, is the most Fair and most Generous, and there is absolutely no reason for me to believe that this is in vain and without reward or isn't the best thing for me. My strength and faith will be renewed through this, for the course of my decreed lifespan, inshallah.

I know this has been painfully long, even for me...but sometimes it's good to sort one's thoughts. I guess this is a conclusion I've already reached, but I know Allah doesn't give anyone anything they can't handle, and it's a reflection of my faith in him whether I want to believe that or not.

Alhamdulillah :)

10/2

It's been two years. Remembering it overwhelms me, but the thanks that I owe far exceed my desire to rest.
ٌ

"No calamity can ever befall man except by the permission of Allah, and whosoever believes in Allah, his heart will be guided, and Allah is the knower of all things."

Quran, 64:11

What The Heck?

I'm taking a break from homework to ramble. Enjoy the fruits of a restless mind.

One day, I will write a post about the things I enjoy, I promise. I enjoy a lot of things and I'm actually, contrary to popular belief, fairly pleasant. I'm also very comma happy.

I work with a lady. A very weird one. Her husband makes a gajillion dollars, she works part-time, and lives in a very fancy home. She drives a Benz and buys incredibly expensive designer purses whose price would make some people I know (including me) throw up several times. She is lavish and buys $50 a yard fabric and such. I'm not gonna hate, that's her prerogative. But here's what I don't understand: She's CHEAP! Can someone please explain this to me? I really didn't know until I grew up that rich people are pretty cheap. You would think that generosity would grow exponentially, not linearly, with increased income. Apparently not. Like how can someone who buys a $95 purse and thinks it's a deal fret over $3? This is a concept that I don't understand whatsoever, and it's making me nauseous thinking about it.

In America, for example, the most generous people, in terms of ratio of money donated to income, are the poor. Is this a faith issue? Is it because the numbers are so big? I don't know.

What I do know, however, is that I really hate cheapness and miserliness. It's ok to be careful with your money, but sometimes what you lose to save it is worth more than the money itself. And if it's not even a matter of being careful, and you are just counting every penny, I think you suck. And that is MY prerogative :)

Second Issue:

I really wish people would revisit the value of strength of character. I wish they would pick themselves up and move on. I absolutely love people with a fighting spirit. And not to say that strong people are rough and mean, because being strong and being merciful aren't contradictory. They can live together. My dad for example, is a sword of justice. Very heavy words, but I exaggerate not. He is the most morally upright person I know. He isn't afraid to speak his mind, and definitely not afraid to lay down some law. At the same time, he is the biggest softy on the face of the earth. He cries more than normal for a man his age, and never hesitates to admit when he's wrong-he says that's being a man. He also knows me better than any of my friends, or even my mom.

Looking back at last year, around this time, he did me the biggest favor anyone could do for me. He challenged me. It's around recovery time, and I'm just a mess. I can't move, can't talk, and can't eat. My muscles are completely debilitated from being in a rotating bed for 2 weeks, and I can't even lift my arms. So what does my dad do? He hands me tissues, makes me shake his hand, and doesn't let people do things for me. When I can finally eat, he doesn't let anyone help me. My food was pretty nasty and cold by the time I could finally get a system going, but he didn't care. I had to brush my teeth by myself, even if that meant using one arm to hold up the other. I know it was hard for him to do that, but he knows me and knows that's what I needed. Don't get me started on the walking!!

Sorry for the detour, but here's what I was talking about originally. People are weak these days and we are really so focused on the minor details that we forget the big things. We don't have the sense of responsibility and courage we should have.

I think I'm thinking about this because because I'm reading a lot of Social Justice books right now and I'm very annoyed with brattiness. Societally or interpersonally, I don't like it.

I will end on this note: I warned you in the pretext that this was going to be ramble. Second, I'm going to see my cousins this weekend and I'm really excited :) Eid Mubarak!

Tales of a Spider

Normally, I have a really big problem with bugs, simply because when I was 3 in Kuwait I had a horrific experience with my mom trying this new bug spray which turned out to attract the bugs of the whole neighborhood. So even the tiniest bugs creep me out. Flying ones not so much cause they have somewhere to go, but the ones that only crawl could just end up chilling with me for longer than I like.

I also dislike heat very much, so I went out to the garage to get a fan last week, and on it was a lovely spider that decided to make itself at home in my room. It was a pretty big, gross, gray spider. Really gross. So me and my sister are just sitting on my bed talking and she starts freaking out. I look over and there it is in the middle of my floor. Spiders helped the prophet, and I'm not about to kill something that worships more than I do, so what do I do? cover it with a shoebox until one of my brothers can take it outside in the morning. SUPER idea.

The next day we go to check on it and it's made a comfortable little web for itself. My brothers aren't home yet and my dad will just look at me funny if I ask him to take it out, so we decide to wait. A few hours later we lift up the box, and astaghfirullah, we suffocated the poor spider. I got this pang of sadness/guilt-the one you get when you miss Fajr. In trying to save its life, I actually killed it in a most uncomfortable way. Think about it..it could've had a quick and painless death by shoe, but rather, it died slowly, antagonizingly, in a shoebox. Sadness.

Moral of the story: Don't kill something while trying to save it. Apply liberally to life.

Fatima Bint Muhammad

Faduma is leaving to Madinah on Tuesday the 12th. On this day I will probably be miserable. It's likely that for the next 4 years or so we will only see each other in the summers, and Allah knows best if after that we will be in the same place. This isn't the first time we go through separation. Last October she left to Madinah for a bit, but I was uber sick and don't even remember her leaving, just a crazy dream I had of me leaving her and her husband a voicemail. I really believe this dream was mercy on me from Allah. I told her that if we were friends for His sake, then it didn't matter where we were-we would be together in the Akhira. Then I told her husband to be nice to her and take care of her. Definitely comfort from Allah for me, because there's no way I could've thought up the words I said on my own. I was convinced it happened in real life but Alhamdulillah people were there to tell me I was on major hallucinogens and I was dreaming, hehe.

To call her a friend does a GREAT injustice. She is the true definition of a sister, and our relationship embodies what it is to love someone for the sake of Allah. I trust her with my very being, and would never hesitate to give her everything I own, before she even asked for it. May Allah have mercy on her and give her the best in this life and the next. May He bless her marriage and give her righteous offspring that make dua for her after her death. Ameen.

Yay

I was at the mall a while ago, innocently walking around, and then all of the sudden these shoes jumped out at me. If I were to morph into a pair of shoes, it would be these. And now they are in my room.


I'm not exactly sure either when I'll get the chance to wear them, but when I do, you will know by the happiness in my face. Just thought I'd share the excitement.

Farewells

Starting July 30:

Sunday: Yassemine-Amman then South Carolina [forever]
Monday: Farah and Nour-Canada then South Carolina [forever]
Wednesday: Ayan-Atlanta [open ticket...punk!]
Thursday: Fatima-Sudan [open ticket....double punk]
Friday: Khalto Rola-South Carolina [forever]
Saturday: Khalto Rada-Amman [indefinite]



Alhamdulillah 3ala kul 7aal :(

Punks

I got my wallet stolen last Tuesday. I grabbed some money to prepay (crappy area, prepay only), and walked out of the car into the station. I came back, got my gas, went back to work, and spent the next half hour looking for it, and the hour after that calling banks and such. The PUNK that took it managed to use it at that very gas station 13 minutes after I left, says the kind man over the phone stopping my credit card. You have got to be kidding me! I feel like I'm going to throw up because I remember my social security card is in there too. My credit could be ruined for life (we'll get back to this later). So I leave work early (nauseous remember?) and go to the bank to get a new account, cause my checkbook was in there too. [Insert shout-out to my friends who told me to get a new account number, not just cancel that book of checks!]

Anyways, I do that, then I call Equifax and put a Fraud Alert on my credit. If anyone wants to mess around and open something with their newly acquired SS# and life-info about a dumb girl named Mariam, they could. But with this fraud thing, they have to call me and get my ok. Nothing has happened yet, but when this 90 day thing is over, I'm putting on a 7 year Fraud Alert. I am paranoid like that-don't hate.

Previously, I was one to leave my stuff everywhere. I leave my purse on the table, my ipod here, my phone there, but not anymore. People suck and I'm just starting to realize this. It took all of 20 years and some months. Not to be bitter or anything.

I hope someone tries to open a credit card, cause I will personally drive to wherever they are, and probably call the cops. haha, had you thinking I would confront them huh? Nope. Hush Aliyah, I know you would, cause you wouldn't take that crap!!

You'll be glad to know I'm over it though. I've moved on.

Our Ummah

I think we have a serious problem. No one has any idea how bad things are. Or they do, and choose to ignore it. The Prophet (pbuh) said that there will come a day when sins that are grievous and very serious will be considered unimportant little details. I think that day has come. Not to be pessimistic or anything, but listen to some stories and tell me you have any hope for your own kids now. We just don't get Islam, we don't understand that Allah, our creator, knows his creation. I would trust a mechanic with my car, and a doctor with my health, so why not Allah with my soul? We think we know the ways to happiness, but that happiness we find through living outside of Islamic principles is fleeting. It's not serenity, and it's not piece of mind. It's very false and deceiving, because the devil has mastered us.

You can't just point to someone and tell them, "Hey, be conscious of Allah", but we need to wake up and realize just how serious the akhira is. I appreciate the fact that the human process of change takes time, but this "time" is a gamble, it's not something you have for sure.

I was at a graduation party this weekend, a Palestinian one (mixed gender). There were people dancing and having a great time, and parents and family members joining in on the fun and being happy. This sounds totally legitimate right? What if we ask ourselves what everyone would do if the Prophet (pbuh) walked into that party? Skirts would get longer, people would stop dancing, and the happy onlookers oblivious to the seriousness of this would cease their celebration. And maybe more than the 7 adults I counted out of about 30 would get up to pray asr. Now the higher example...Allah (swt) is always there to see. Are we not in debt to him? I'm definitely not saying it's wrong to celebrate and be happy, but if it is done outside the parameters of what is halal and what isn't, there is no justification for its legitimacy, even if it's the norm in our times.

I think that if you're comfortable in ALL social situations and relationships (a whole different post), there's something wrong with your fitra. It can't possibly be that there aren't tests anywhere, and if you're not recognizing these situations as tests, maybe you should change your glasses. May Allah bless us all with the Iman and conviction to pass his tests.

Poem By Emmanuel Ortiz

Check out this awesome poem! (The other ones on the same page are also nice.)

It's called "A Moment of Silence".

http://www.seeingblack.com/2003/x020403/poetry_feb.shtml#ortiz

I will think of a title when I'm done writing this.

I would like to note that I know how irresponsible it is to do this during finals. But you know what? I'm done studying and I can't sleep. I am nocturnal sometimes. Leave me be!

So my uncle, his wife, and their daughter are moving sometime this month. Jennifer is graduating from the Law School, and they're going to Chicago. My uncle is going to film school there, and she's taking the Illinois Bar Exam. Am I sad? Of course. But I decided I'm not going to show them I am. I think it'll make it worse. This uncle and I are very close. We are really similar in the way we look at a lot of things. We are on opposite ends of the spectrum when it comes to some issues, but he's the only one that gets it sometimes. I like a lot of his opinions. Sometimes people don't need a lot of deen to renounce materialism and superficiality. He's a cool person.

But I'm more sad about this one:

Yafa, named after a city in Palestine. (My uncle is really lucky he didn't name her Jenin, because I totally reserved that like 4 years ago.) She is messy and moody and has a lot of spunk. That is why I love her. She looks exactly like I did when I was her age. And she can totally bust a move for a 2 year old, just like I could :P

Enough about my family. Onto the brain regurgitation!

For one moment I would like to lament about something. I'm currently using my favorite bag in the world. It is comfortable and I love it. But, it's starting to rip on the inside, to an unrepairable point. I love this bag, remember? And it cost like $11. Which is why it's probably ripping, but while it was alive, it served well. I think I'll stop using it, but I'll keep it in my closet. Poor bag :(

So looking at some of my friends' blogs, namely Katie and Ramla's, I have decided that mine is pretty worthless. You will not gain any academic/political awareness from it. For this I apologize, and direct you to the nearest newspaper. Sorry.

Katie just sent me this link. It's pretty disturbing. I don't know how any human with any conscience can do this. Subhanallah, may Allah give every oppressor what they deserve, in this life and the next.

http://hotzone.yahoo.com/b/hotzone/20060320/hz_afghanistan_0306/blogs2986

"Child Bride-
Married at the age of four, an Afghan girl was subjected to years of beatings and torture, finally escaping to discover that within all the world's cruelty, there is also some kindness."

If you read this, make dua for her by name please. JAK.

I Need a New Job

I mean I'm glad I have one, Alhamdulillah. But let me tell you something. People are weird. I work at a photo place. Meaning I develop and print pictures and do lots of digital stuff. Really fun, I love it. Until I factor in some things. These are:

• People who tell me how to print/People who think they know how to use the digital stuff.
• Pictures that people should be arrested for.
• Opening in the morning.
• Draining the machines.
• CHANGING PAPER
• The new sales program just recently implemented. Ick.
• People who don't understand the concept of copyright laws.
• CHANGING PAPER
• Our new alarm system.

Let me start with the worst. Someone who is skilled in taking pictures comes in and is very specific as to how they want things printed. Totally fine, if you know what you're talking about. Mad props. But if you don't, please stop. And when I make a suggestion, just remember that I work here and I sort of know what I'm doing, otherwise I would be fired. I have to restrain myself from laughing sometimes, so save me the awkwardness. The other one, which we all hate, is the person that walks in and goes to the digital kiosks, and when we greet them and ask if they need help, they say NO, very adamantly, because they know what they're doing. 20 minutes and 40 edited pictures later, they select the wrong option and ruin the entire order. Pride, dude. Just let me help you, I'll just show you and you can mess with it all you want. And then when they need help, that non-existant smile appears and they say, "There's something wrong with this machine!". No, my friend, there is naught wrong.

Pictures are a whole other dimension. Oh man. I think the most disturbing ones are vanishing from the realm of 35mm film, because of the digital revolution and whatnot. You get it. BUT, for some odd reason, I always get pictures of dead people. Just today, I got a whole roll of someone taking a picture of their dad in his hospital bed. Are you really gonna look at those?

Changing paper....Wow. Let me just say that it is easily the most terrifying experience in my daily life. I am sooo afraid of the dark, thanks to the many jinn stories I've heard. I know, lame, but I try sometimes. Sometimes I think I'm really tough and I'm like "Whatever man, I only fear Allah!", and I grab the paper canister and new roll of paper and walk into that darkroom like it's nobody's business. Sometimes I make it out of there fine, other times, I'm frantically rushing to get everything done, and the minute I lock the canister, I flip on the light and open the door and run out. Loser is right.

Copyright laws: No, I will not just let you do it yourself. You can't play technicalities with God. Sheesh.

I'm done complaining! Woohooo!

(I know there's more but I just [like right now] got over it.)

For a good month and some days now I have been thinking about how to start this. I have decided to start by saying that I don't know what to say. I have no idea what this is about, and I have so many random thoughts flowing around that I'll try to get them down in an organized fashion. I'm a firm believer in organized messes. Speaking of messes, I have a really big problem with dirty, but I'm usually ok with messy. To an extent. This creates problems. I live downstairs with my brothers, and that's where they hang out usually. Really, I'm pretty easygoing, but when they get gross, I freak out.

Speaking of freaking out, today I was driving and someone almost merged into me on the highway. NOT a good feeling, especially when I'm playing music, and I get this realization that the last thing I could've ever heard was Common. That just sucks :(

Along the lines of suckage, my dad went to California for work today. He will be gone for a week, and I will be bored for a week. He is so cool, alhamdulillah. Especially for a FOB. I can honestly say he's my best friend. He is incredibly intelligent, and thinks ahead of his time. I learn lessons from everything he does, and I really trust his judgement. When I was sick, I used to make him drive to Maplewood all the way from his work in Eagan at lunch to come hang out with me, and he never said no. Parents are so amazing. I can say how amazing I think my dad is, but I can't put into words how I feel about my mom. I just pray that heaven is awarded to her before any hissab. She deserves it, mashallah.

Speaking of sick...subhanallah. If anyone is going to believe in the power of dua, and the mercy of Allah, it's me. Alhamdulillah a million times. If I could go through everything all over again, I would. It's an amazing experience that I am SO blessed to have gone through, no matter how hard it was at the time. Allah can bless us in the most unexpected and unbelievable ways. It really showed me that we have to trust Allah. This dunya sucks sometimes, and If you don't have faith, it sucks even more. We sit here and worry and think and plan and run around without stopping to think about Allah. We definitely should tie our camel, but we have to know that all khair is from him. Alhamdulillah.

I know a lot of people who have this problem. Girls, mostly. This innate need to worry until they get wrinkles or get sick. I think it's really sad. Don't get me wrong, I'm really OCD about things like being on time and making sure things run smoothly and thinking ahead, but I don't let it ruin my life. Does that make sense? I didn't think so. Sorry!
Summary: Worrying is so 8 months ago :) Allah's got your back! Inshallah.

Speaking of having backs, did I ever mention how much I despise when people talk smack (pardon the ebonics!) about other people? And when people talk about other peoples' business? Like when someone tells me a secret about someone else, it REALLY makes me think. If they are missing the thing that would make them stop from telling me this secret, how do I know that they won't tell people my secrets? I really think that if someone tells you something, it needs to stop with you, unless you have EXPLICIT permission to tell others. That's just basic courtesy, and most importantly, being Muslim! It's such a big part of our deen to be trustworthy people. And I give the basic disclaimer, I say this to myself first :) Wanna know what really bugs me? Oh man, this irks me SO bad. When you're sitting somewhere with some people, and the first thing people think to do at separation is talk about people that were there. Oh man, so obnoxious. It just sucks. I really want to tell people to shut up sometimes, but that would not serve any dawah purposes. What happened to 73 excuses?!

Subhanallah, look at this wisdom. Even after you have created 73 excuses (which you most likely will not), you should say Allahu A'lam. Think about this concept. I know it's hard to implement, but if we are constantly reminding ourselves that we have to do this, eventually we will improve (in some way or another) in our dealings with others.

Ok, I think I'm done now. Next time I'll be more organized inshallah. Hopefully I'll have a prompt, so I can focus.