Not seeing the forest for the trees

Lots of, lots of things are unfolding in front of me in a mystic way.  It took me a decade, though. I used to think they have things figured out.  I am able to connecting dots and make quick calls about what is right and wrong.  What looks obvious today may turn out to be completely wrong tomorrow. 

Like it or not, we human understanding has limits and that real wisdom often lies beyond what we can see. People often jump to conclusions. We look at a situation and think we know the whole story. But most of the time we are only seeing a small slice of the pie. Wisdom means stepping back and admitting that things may play out differently than we expect.

None of us can see the future. We judge events based on the present moment and mostly on current state  of mind and emotions. But life unfolds over time. What looks cruel today may carry a hidden mercy that only shows up years later.

Real wisdom is not about knowing everything. It is about knowing that you do not. It is about keeping your mind open and staying humble when life throws you a curveball.

 Human knowledge can take us far, but it cannot take us all the way. There will always be things beyond our reach. The wise person does not fight that truth. The wise person learns to live with it.

Is it bad idea to call my so called friend?

I want to call my dear friend S, and  invite her for Iftar as it is the blessed month of Ramadan. A soft knock on the soul. My heart wants to talk to her like we used to do. There is a small gift I bought for her yesterday. A deliciated jewelry. She is a lovely lovely girl. Always calm and pleasant. I met her in my chaotic days. 

Today, I am resisting calling her.  Holding myself back. Trying my best not to open any old doors. 

I have realized that this is a bad idea. Not every urge must be followed. Not every feeling deserves action. Some bridges are better left unburned — and unwalked. It took me ages to control my naf.   

No idea if I ever be able to love life again. To trust people again. But I am not crying over spilled milk.

It is what it is. Oh no, no.  I am no more sad. One can do nothing about being sad. It is wise to sit with it. Let it pass.

Yes, the trauma of that certain series of incidents is still profound. It cant help it. Calling her looks like a bad idea. It is a price I paid for my naivety and carelessness. It hit home.

But trauma is not that bad when you have to learn the lesson. And even when you don’t, it keeps knocking. It does not let you sweep things under the rug. It forces you to face the music. It did all that to me. I was unstoppable. Trying and doing. 

Pain draws a line in the sand.

It opened my eyes.

It cleared the fog.

It called a spade a spade.

It made me read between the lines.

I just naturally can't  be that old me.  That ship has sailed. I have crossed that bridge. It was inevitable .God has its own majestic way of protecting  his creatures. He is Ya Latif and Haleem.  I was wild and careless. Running on impulse. Living on the edge. Blind to the red flags.

Now everything is clear. Crystal clear. As clear as daylight.

The writing was on the wall. I just refused to see it. 

Now everything is clear. I would have had never understood  how I was harming my self if all that haven't happened.  How I was adding fuel to the fire. How I was digging my own grave. 

Trauma built me. It stripped away illusions. It drew boundaries in bold ink. It taught me the hard way.I just can't  do old things again. Can’t unlearn what I know now.  Can’t go back to square one.

Some lessons cost peace. Some cost people. But they give clarity.

She had no role in what happened to me. Like I said,  I met her when I was going through all that.  She is the one who helped me. 

Now,  keeping distance from her and everything  is my conscious  decision.  

you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink

I used to believe that love and effort could transform anyone. I thought that if I just cared enough, I could help. But time and time again, I've seen that this approach only leads to frustration.

 This realization has been a bitter pill to swallow, but it's a truth. 

You can't pour from an empty cup, and you can't help someone who doesn't want help. The more you try to fix someone, the more they resist. It's like trying to hold water in your hands - the harder you squeeze, the more it slips away.

I've come to realize that people are like puzzles - they come with their own unique pieces, and you can't force them to fit into a different picture. 

You can't make someone see things from your perspective or adopt your values. All you can do is accept them for who they are. Most of the time they just want to share their problems out of anxiety for chathersis. They want you to listen. 

I jump to solution. And get ready to help him/her. 

It only leads to hurt and frustration. It's time to accept that people are who they are, and all we can do is listen,  love and let them face their problem.

 

A Futile Pursuit of Destiny's Rejects

Have you been there - running after something or someone with every fiber of your being, only to realize that it was never meant for you?  Like a dog chasing its tail, you spin around in circles, exhausting yourselve in the process. 

Been there done that. Another lesson learned. Now back to home. 

It is this futile pursuit, isn't?

For me, it was my desires and that foolish idea of I-could-get-it-if-I-worked-hard. I got aderabel exhustion and lost myself in that rut.  It had been on-again, off-again for  many years. I was hooked on the idea of making it work, convinced that my passion and great zeal would  overcome any obstacle. But no matter how hard I tried, it just wasn't meant to be. I was beating my head against a brick wall, and it was time to stop.

As the saying goes, "you can't force a square peg into a round hole." 

Some things are just not meant for us, and no amount of effort or perseverance can change that. But we often refuse to accept this, choosing instead to go down swinging.

I get caught up in the idea of what could be, rather than accepting what is. I cling to the hope that things will magically work out, even when all evidence points to the contrary. It's like trying to hold water in my hands - the harder I squeezed, the more it slipped away.

The lesson I learned that can't control everything. I need to leave everything. It cost my health, peace and soul. 

 I am still learning  let go and trusting in present. I  just have to be willing to walk through that new door, rather than trying to force my way back through the old one.

So, I've learned to stop running after things that are not meant for me. It's not always easy, but it's necessary. I've come to realize that my energy is better spent on things that nourish my mind, body, and soul. As it is said "cut your losses and move on." 

Hidding or healing?

There’s something oddly comforting about staying away from eveything and everyone. I am at peace. And feeling safe. Maybe you figured out from my previoys post(s) or not. But yeah. 

I am  hiding, technically. This is/ was only logical solution I could figure out to save my self, soul and sanity.

 Ducking out of the spotlight, avoiding confrontation, and curling up in the shadows of routine do feel safe. And I desperalty wanted safety after throughing myself into every other truck. 

But what happens when we stay hidden for too long? We don’t just escape the world; we start to escape ourselves. Bit by bit, we chip away at our personality, and before we know it, we’re strangers in our own skin.

This I realised after attending a winter school in November, 24. I haven even forgotton how to be my self. It hit at  airport, when I was coming back to Karachi via Riyadh. I am more safe and calm, when I am alone. Or with familar people. 

Our personalities are built on habits—like layers of paint on a canvas. The way we talk, how we react, the things we laugh at—all of these are learned behaviors that eventually sticks.

Gordon Allport, one of the pioneers of personality psychology, believty develops through consistent behaviors over time, shaped by our environment and experiences. If personality is built on habits, then it stands to reason that it can erode if those habits disappear. When we hide ourselves—out of fear, insecurity, or convenience—we risk dismantling the very behaviors that define who we are.

Avoidance behavior, a concept rooted in cognitive-behavioral psychology, plays a major role here. Avoidance feels like a safe escape from stress or discomfort, but studies have shown that it often leads to greater problems, including anxiety, depression, and a diminished sense of self (Hayes et al., 1996). By withdrawing from social interactions or challenges, we not only sidestep temporary discomfort but also lose opportunities to reinforce the habits and traits that make us, us.

For example, consider social anxiety. When someone avoids social interactions, their brain doesn’t get the chance to “practice” positive reinforcement from engaging with others. Over time, avoidance becomes the norm, and the individual’s social confidence—once a defining trait—dwindles. This is how hiding, if prolonged, becomes a slow unraveling of our personality.

When we retreat from the world, we also disrupt something psychologists call “self-concept clarity.” This is the degree to which we have a clear understanding of who we are. Research shows that people with high self-concept clarity tend to be more resilient and confident (Campbell et al., 1996). But when we disengage, our understanding of ourselves becomes murky. We forget what we enjoy, what we’re good at, and even what we stand for. It’s like looking into a foggy mirror—you know you’re there, but the details are lost.

The worst part? Hiding has a way of tricking us into thinking we’re fine. We convince ourselves that this quieter, more detached version is still who we are. But deep down, something doesn’t sit right. It’s like wearing shoes that don’t quite fit: you might be able to walk, but every step feels a little off.

Life, for better or worse, demands participation. You can’t sit on the sidelines forever without paying the price. Those habits that once defined you—the way you smiled at strangers, the way you lit up in conversations—begin to wither. Neuroplasticity, the brain’s ability to change and adapt, is a double-edged sword here. While it helps us grow, it also means that, over time, our brains can “unlearn” behaviors if they’re not used.

But here’s the thing: you can always find yourself again. It’s not easy—nothing worth doing ever is—but it’s possible. It starts with small steps. Say “yes” to something you’d normally shy away from. Pick up an old hobby you dropped ages ago. Call that friend you’ve been ghosting. These little acts are like breadcrumbs, leading you back to the person you once were—or maybe even someone better.

Hiding might feel like self-preservation, but it’s really self-erasure. While it’s natural to retreat now and then, we can’t let it become a way of life. Our personalities are precious, intricate things—the sum of all our habits, choices, and experiences. If we neglect them, we risk losing ourselves entirely.

So, the next time you feel like withdrawing, ask yourself: Am I hiding, or am I healing? Because there’s a fine line between the two, and it’s all too easy to cross. 

Don’t let your personality gather dust in the attic of your life. Step into the light, shake off the cobwebs, and show the world—and yourself—who you really are. After all, life’s too short to be a ghost in your own story.

Every fight is not worth it.

Like, threr yeats ago I told a colleague to left this place and go London. She was going through serioys issues. So am I. We were facing similar issues.  However, I snapped right away. And let go when I felt it is no longer worth it. My reaction and actions were out of extreme disbelive of injustice. 

Her strategy was to let go first and then see. Things were really complicated. Still are, as we talked over phone last night. 

She have know  come to realize that not every fight is worth fighting. In our quest for justice, validation, and control, we often find ourselves entangled in battles that drain our energy, test our relationships, and divert our focus from what truly matters. 

We wasted couple of years. 

It's essential to recognize that some fights, no matter how enticing or righteous they may seem, are simply not worth the cost.

The concept of "picking your battles" is not about being passive or cowardly; it's about being wise and strategic. It's about conserving emotional energy for the fights that truly count. As the ancient Chinese philosopher, Sun Tzu, said, "The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting." Sometimes, the greatest victory lies in walking away.

I recall instances where I invested time, emotions, and resources into arguments that, in hindsight, were inconsequential. The outcome rarely changed the bigger picture, but the toll on my mental and emotional well-being was significant. I realized that some people will never agree with me, and that's okay. "You can't control the uncontrollable," as the Buddha wisely taught.

By choosing not to engage in every fight, I'm not surrendering to injustice or compromise; I'm prioritizing my well-being and the bigger picture. I'm recognizing that some battles are unwinnable, and that's okay. "You can't pour from an empty cup. Take care of yourself first," as the proverb goes.

In a world where conflicts are inevitable, discernment is key. Before engaging in a fight, I ask myself:

- Is this fight aligned with my values and goals?

- Will the outcome significantly impact my life or the lives of others?

- Am I fighting to prove a point or to genuinely resolve an issue?

- What are the potential consequences of engaging in this fight?

By answering these questions honestly, I can determine whether a fight is worth my time and energy.

Knowing when to let go and walk away is a sign of strength, not weakness. 

Life is bed of roses

We all want life as a bed of roses. Little inconveniences and evil eye. And unbearable.  

There is this here's a growing trend of keeping one's happiness under wraps out of fear of the so-called "evil eye" or "nazar." Especially, these motivational speakers who speak popular trends just for views, like and fame will tell you to be quite private. 

This  evil eye phenomenon, driven by insecurity and greed, is slowly but surely creating rifts within families, friendships, and relationships. The belief that sharing joy might attract misfortune is not only irrational but also detrimental to the very fabric of society.

How much simpler and more open life used to be. There was a time when people freely shared their successes and challenges without the fear of attracting envy or ill will. For instance, I recently found myself reminiscing about one of my aunts. I told my father how her husband used to proudly show us the progress of their home construction. Those were the days when there was no such thing as "nazar" or the need for secrecy. People believed that only Allah could bring harm or blessing, and attributing power to anything else was considered shirk, or associating partners with Allah.

In those days, people were more open-hearted and genuine in their interactions. We weren't a wealthy family, but I still remember the energy and happiness my father exuded when meeting people, whether they were family members, neighbors, or colleagues. Visiting both rich and not-so-rich friends and family members was always done with a big heart. No one made us feel inferior, and we didn't feel envious of others' success. Instead, both parties were genuinely happy to see each other and share their lives.

The concept of the evil eye or "nazar" was virtually nonexistent. I came to realize that it's only the insecure and greedy who put stock in such beliefs. Alhamdulillah, my parents are happy, and we never felt the need to buy into this drama.

However, the more people buy into this belief in the evil eye, the more unhealthy their communication becomes. Conversations become guarded, interactions are tinged with suspicion, and genuine happiness is stifled for fear of attracting misfortune. This kind of environment breeds distrust and distances people from one another.

It's important to ask ourselves: what is the big deal if something goes wrong in our lives? Isn't it true that Allah will test us with family, wealth, children, or health at some point? Why do we feel the need to hide our happiness as if it will somehow protect us from these inevitable trials?

The fear of the evil eye is nothing more than a manifestation of our insecurities. It's a way for people to avoid dealing with their own feelings of inadequacy or envy. Instead of celebrating each other's successes, we hide them, thinking that this will protect us from harm. But in reality, it only serves to isolate us from one another.

By subscribing to the belief in the evil eye, we are essentially saying that we don't trust Allah to protect us. We are giving power to something that has no power at all. This mindset is not only damaging to our relationships but also to our faith.

We need to return to a time when people were open, honest, and genuine in their interactions. When we shared our lives without fear of judgment or envy. When we celebrated each other's successes as if they were our own. Only then can we begin to repair the damage that this belief in the evil eye has caused.

The concept of the evil eye is a delusion that has taken root in our society. It is causing more harm than good by creating an environment of fear, distrust, and secrecy. We need to let go of this irrational belief and return to a time when we shared our happiness openly and without fear. By doing so, we can rebuild the strong, supportive communities that once existed, where people were genuinely happy to see each other succeed, and where relationships were built on trust and love.