The fasting becomes more challenging

I was warned that it would get harder toward the end. That the last week or so of Ramadan would become more difficult. I should have listened.

Not that I could have done anything about it. But I still should have listened.

I am tired, weak. I am often confused. Daily functions have gotten more difficult and the days seem longer instead of shorter.

The feeling of intense well-being I experienced in the early days is gone. My day has been reduced to the necessary, the essential. All extras have been pared away.

I do my work. my driving, my daily breaking of the fast, and my sleep. Conversation is with only a few people.

Emotions are both sharp and mutted. It's like they are clearer, purer. But wrapped in cotton wool. They bruise instead of cut. And the depth is greater.

It's harder being alone. Fear is suddenly just below the surface. Not of any one thing, except of being alone.

Is this intended to be a part of the fast? Am I meant to experience this disolution of energy and power and focus? Is this part of the lesson?

And the blessings go on...

Today, I will pick up my car with a new engine in it. Replaced under warranty.

Today, a check was sent for a freelance job I completed a few weeks ago.

Today, I will break the fast with friends at an Iftar celebration.

Today, I had a nice long phone call from an old friend who lives far away.

Today, I doppped my daughters off at their schools and came to work safely despite a blinding downpour.

Today, work has gone well.

Today, I have had music to listen to all day while I worked.

Today, I have fasted.

And the blessings go on.

Day 13 of Ramadan, September 26th, 2007

Love, life and Ramadan

This morning as I was getting ready for work, it occurred to me that life, and even more specifically, love, is a lot like Ramadan. Or at least it should be....

There is so much we want in life, and most of us want it RIGHT NOW! When the desire happens, we want the fulfillment. It could be a new car, a bigger house, a new outfit or a better job.

In love, we have an idea of the kind of relationship we want, and maybe even the person with whom we want it.

Our society tells us we have the right to "Right Now!". Instant food, instant approval on car loans, instant make-overs, instant information downloads. We get impatient waiting even a few minutes, and Madison Avenue reinforces that hurry-up attitude with ever faster and faster everything.

I always thought I had good self control. Now I am thinking maybe not.

From Ramadan, I am learning to control my desires. To postpone what I want (or maybe even believe I need) until the right time. I am learning to deal with temptation and wait patiently (ok, sometimes patiently!) for what I want.

And I am reaping the benefits. The sweetness of the dates, and the cold smoothness of the milk as I break the fast each night is like nothing I've ever experienced.

The food has not changed.

I have.

And I hope I can carry this experience into the rest of my life.

The value of a long awaited purchase. The fruit of a patiently saved balance in my bank account, instead of the fleeting joy of a spur of the moment purchase. A vacation planned months in advance, allowing me to savour each day as it grows closer.

And above all, the sweetness of love when it is the right time, instead of right now or when I think it ought to be time.

Ramadan is about lessons. I knew that from the start. I only hope that when the season is over and there is no reason to control my hunger or thirst each day, the lessons will stay with me.

11 days of Ramadan and counting

Last night, I attended my first Iftar celebration. It was in the home of one of our Project Downtown members.

For three hours, we shared food and Salat and drink and conversation and laughter. We sipped hot mint tea and talked over the details of our days. This was a women's Iftar...my two daughters and I welcomed into a circle that included a few friends, some acquaintances and some women we just met. The women ranged from my daughter (aged 9) to several moms of teens and 20-somethings.

It was an amazing experience.

As Ramadan moves into its second third, I am amazed at the changes I've experienced.

• I've learned to follow a chart of times to eat and drink, instead of surrendering to the demands of my body.
  
  
• I've learned to focus on the moment -- a profound lesson in mindfulness.
  
  
• I've discovered how very little we need to eat to survive and thrive and am amazed at the vast amount we usually eat in contrast.
  
  
• I've learned gratitude for that first sip of milk and first bite of a date at the end of the day.
  
  
• I've learned the value of community, as we encourage each other along this season of fasting.
  
  
• I've learned humbleness when a homeless man, so impressed by the concept of fasting, decided to fast with us, despite the fact that his daily life already includes hunger and insufficient food.
  
  
• I've been imnpressed by the fortitude of my eldest daughter's fast, as she pushes her way through hunger and thirst through school days and household chores.
  
  
• And I am touched and grateful for the Iftar invitations that have been arriving daily as people learn that we have joined the fast.
  
  

On the 8th day of Ramadan

Today has been the hardest day so far.

I ate before dawn, but clearly not the right stuff. Shakey, sleepy, very thirsty. But I am getting through. The process is more important than my momentary comfort.

I just had a weird experience. I was updating my Facebook and the new app asked for my religion. I sat there for 10 minutes marking and unmarking two different boxes. I could not commit to where I have been for all these years, nor to where it seems I am going. I finally settled on "Multireligious" (yes that was one of the choices!) for now.

I feel that I am straddling a crevasse, trying to keep one foot on either side. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately?) the gap is widening and it is about time for me to make a choice.

That's what this fast is all about. Choices.