I tripped on my shoelace/ And I fell up...

Bismillah-ir-Rahman-ir-Raheem

It is below freezing outside. New Yorkers, after enjoying months of good weather this winter, have had to finally dig out their hats, scarves, and gloves. But some of us are reluctant to venture out. We'd much rather shut the door, turn up the thermostat and bundle up under layers of quilts. Make some earl gray tea and settle in to watch forgettable television while the clock ticks. Hoping that a warm front will come and thaw our hearts, melt away the anxiety and fear.

Yet, New York keeps going and moves on. Layers of salt on the ground, down coats and warm coffee help it to do so. New Yorkers are resilient, uncanny in ways that astound. I've realized this as I sit and watch them make their way through the gusts of wind and skin tearing chill. I realize this sitting in a sweltering 73 degree room, by a window facing the front street. I've been doing this the past few days - sitting, watching, waiting to feel alright to go outside. Waiting for that piece of ice that had managed to lodge itself into my chest months ago to wash away.

In trying to remember how and when this happened I can only faintly remember tripping and falling onto this sliver of doubt. That one moment of questioning and hesitation led to further trips and falls. Now, I've fallen before and have the bruises to show for when flesh met uneven concrete. Those visits to the ground have taught me many things (will share in future posts, i'A).
So, it has taken me some time to get things in order (mainly in own head). But, equipped with lessons of experience, I think I know what it is that I need to do. I can't wait around for the cold frost to vanish and take with it the coolness that coats my being. I have to get up, get moving and rub the warmth back in.

Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillah. Alhamdulillah. Every fall is just another opportunity from my Beloved for me to rise up.

If you are irritated by every rub, how will your mirror ever be polished?
- Maulana Jalauddin Rumi