Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Love, InshAllah

Home
Muslim
Relationships and Religion
My personal jihad

My personal jihad

Last updated on: November 3, 2014 at 11:18 am by Posted by The Editors

My personal jihad 2014-11-03T11:18:57-07:00 Posted by The Editors

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

When I think of my father

sometimes I think of hot links-

the halal ones he’d serve for breakfast

then sell at the masjid on sunday.

You see, my daddy had many hustles

and one of them was hot links-

fry em’ in a skillet in the morning

then marry em’ to the buttermilk pancakes

and grace them with smooth grits.

They were sunday-morning muslim bliss

best when thawed, and never too spicy-

packed tight into the freezer

and still packed tight into my memory.

*–*Nijla Mu’min (2010)

When I was a little girl, I’d sit in the front seat of my father’s car and ask him if the R&B singer Anita Baker was a Muslim. I’d ask him if Michael and Janet Jackson were as well. He’d nod and say, “InshAllah Nijla.” I was content in knowing that one day they might become a part of our community; a community that helped give me a sense of purpose. We rode on. My father whistled to the Miles Davis on the radio and I couldn’t wait to eat another halal hot link with buttermilk pancakes for breakfast the next morning.

I’m 26 years old now and I’m always rushing. I rush to get to school. I rush to make deadlines. I run out of the house in the morning without eating or thinking, trying not to be late to the class I help teach. I neglect to eat so I can get “work done,” remembering in the evening as my stomach cries.

I pass by an Islamic center in my LA neighborhood and tell myself that I’ll go there next week, but it doesn’t happen. Between fundraising for my thesis film, trying to complete a dual MFA degree, and worrying about a slew of personal matters that are outside of my reach, things get lost in transit. I get lost. I forget that the mind and body are but so strong in cases of extreme stress and anxiety. They need sustenance.

Recently, I was in a traffic jam on the freeway in LA, a fact that I’ve become accustomed to since moving here. As I sat in the sea of cars, a motorcyclist sped between the lanes, swiped my car, and ripped the right-side mirror off of my car. The mirror broke off and the body was left dangling from a cord. He kept going but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get his license number. There was nothing I could do. I thought about screaming, cursing, or even hitting the steering wheel with my hand, but I didn’t. I just laughed. The mirror is still hanging on the side of my car. I don’t know if I have the money to get it fixed.

In the maelstrom of LA traffic jams, financial problems, worries over family, of deadlines, and upset stomachs, stress and anger become default emotions. In this case, I could’ve defaulted to these emotions as I often do, but something in me couldn’t do it. It’s a mirror that will get fixed. It’s a deadline that will get met. And family members will be okay. I pray that they will.

I now make personal promises that I’ll detach myself from obsessing about our film’s Indiegogo campaign, I’ll go to the beach when it becomes too much, I’ll hike Runyon more, resume dance class, and I’ll visit that Islamic center in my neighborhood. If it’s not the spiritual environment that I want, I will find another. I’ll get up, eat breakfast like I did with my father when I was growing up, and I’ll think about my next move before making it. I’ll find a halal grocery store that sells hot links. In this way I’d like to return to the spiritual core of my upbringing, the contentedness of being part of a community, of sitting still and letting the air lead me.

We’re always running to get places. I run so much that I’ve often forgotten myself and where I’m going. I forget that I once had a love life and can still have one. I can trust someone again. The community is there but I must make the effort to find it. So in a way, this is my personal struggle, or jihad, to preserve my spiritual, physical, and emotional health.

There are no other options.

—

Nijla Baseema Mu’min is a writer, filmmaker, and photographer from the San Francisco Bay Area. She is a 2007 graduate of UC Berkeley, and also attended Howard University’s MFA Film Program. She was the recipient of the 2009 Paul Robeson Award for Best Feature Screenplay. At UC Berkeley, she served as a Student Teacher in June Jordan’s Poetry for the People Program. Her writing has appeared in the Berkeley Poetry Review, Poets For Living Waters, the Diverse Voices Quarterly, Kweli Journal and Mythium: Journal of Contemporary Literature, and the Girlchild Press Anthology, Woman’s Work: The Short Stories. She is an MFA student in Writing and Film Directing at the California Institute of the Arts. Nijla is currently working on her thesis film project, Deluge, a short film exploring African Americans relationship to water, informed by such traumas as The Middle Passage, the BP Oil spill, and Hurricane Katrina.

Love InshAllah writers

Muslim women literary voices

women writers

Previous Post

May 11, 2012

Friday Love - from Cambridge, MA

Next Post

May 17, 2012 Press PAUSE

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Book Reviews Brown Girl Dreaming Editors Flirting with Fate and other Disasters of an Intersectional Muslimah Food, Love, & Memories Friday Love Halal Since 22 Integrity of Heart Life After Death Literary Mama Literature Love Inshallah Podcast Love InshAllah writers Media My Infidel Husband Not Without Love Poetry Monday Radical Love Reflections & Readings Reviews of Love InshAllah Salaam Love Writers Sex & The Ummah Single in the City Spotlight Story & Chai Book Club The Geekologist The Love Tour The Male Gaze Things I Wish I'd Known Thoughts of a Wasat Girl Uncategorized Your Sunny Side Up Your voices

Select a Month May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 October 2014 September 2014 August 2014 July 2014 June 2014 May 2014 April 2014 March 2014 February 2014 January 2014 December 2013 November 2013 October 2013 September 2013 August 2013 July 2013 June 2013 May 2013 April 2013 March 2013 February 2013 January 2013 December 2012 November 2012 October 2012 September 2012 August 2012 July 2012 June 2012 May 2012 April 2012 March 2012 February 2012 January 2012 December 2011 November 2011

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

What was the name of Noah's three sons?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Cain, Abel, Seth Benjamin, Joseph, Judah Jacob, Esau, Ishmael Shem, Ham, Japheth