Category Archives: American Muslims

An American Muslim Mom on Faith, Parenting and the 2016 Election

My latest piece on Huffington Post:

“…This is my Islam, this is my surrender. This is what it means to me to be a person of faith: to strive to understand the nature of myself as a human, and to strive to understand the nature of the world around me. To be in humble service wherever I can. And to steward what is my part firmly, gently when possible, as best as I can. Is there a place for my faith in America today?”

Read More Here:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/sofia-alikhan/an-american-muslim-mom-on_b_9786870.html

In My Prayers

You are in my prayers

such as they are,

which is to say imperfect,

bound together with a bit of biodegradable twine

and sprouted in a shovel full of compost

yearning like the veins

on a translucent yellow leaf

earnest but

not ever quite what the scholars imagined.

 

Neither the ecstatic precision of

a mystic on cosmic time

counting each sujood as an essential detail in the

unfurling of some great global lotus of prayer,

nor the hafizah who corrects the

timing of my salaam

seem to motivate the kind of

principled obedience I might

expect from myself.

 

It seems my heart has always some

stray hair

or unintentional caress

to dole out in exactly the wrong circumstance.

It seems I am always falling backwards

out of the parable, and onto the floor

unkempt and smiling.

Dear Fellow Americans (4)…

“…rhetorically, Cruz has moved us one step closer to a fractured democracy. While his words are certainly scary for Muslims, they pose a serious threat to all Americans. The Republicans’ inflammatory rhetoric this election cycle has done something remarkable to this country in a very short period of time: It has turned this country into a tinderbox.”  Read the full letter here.

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Bandaging My Wounds: A Spiritual Journey Through Hijab

…….Hijab became my skin when I was skinless. As I wrapped an oblong scarf around my head each morning I felt as if I were securing it to my body, as if I were bandaging a wound. It was a constant reminder that in a world gone mad, and in the lonely process of making a new life in a strange city, I could exist in a state of grace. I belonged to my maker. I was liberated from the excesses of the world around me, both the personal excesses of individuals, and the violent excesses of nation states. It was the equivalent of finding a fixed point to focus on when your yoga teacher tells you to balance on one foot: It might seem unrelated to the goal, but it is absolutely essential….

Read More at http://www.altmuslimah.com/2016/02/10879/