the earth ink

The air, still and heavy with silence, oddly reminded me of the unused water cooler in the office today. An evening walk on the Abu Dhabi Corniche proved to be a beautiful idea during the first days of Ramadan. Traffic was infrequent, the walkway far less crowded than normal, and the air was less hot than the hair dryer heat that gushed at me between the office and my car this afternoon - now cooled by troughs of  evening  that floated inland from the Arabian Gulf. There is something different in these breezes that permeate the air: tinged with a sense of peace and a reflective atmosphere that accompanies the quiet street corners. It's the start of Ramadan, the Holy Month on the Islamic lunar calendar. The Islamic calendar doesn't follow an annual cycle directed by the sun. Rather, months are determined by the cycle of the moon. In the UAE, a moon siting committee stands watch over the religious holidays and announces them officially a day or two before the holiday arri...

This isn’t how it was supposed to be – my life, that is. I was meant to follow the example of generations before me: Grow up in my homogenous “safe” community, earn good grades in school, make friends, play outside, and graduate from high school. Then I would dash off to a reputable university to obtain a degree—and that coveted Mrs. degree with the man of my dreams. Then, I would settle down in my small safe hometown and push the refresh and repeat button for my own child. I am literally on the other side of the world from those initial 22 years of aspirations. When I graduated with only a degree in communication I started facing the raw disappointment that my life would not follow the plan handed down from most of my family and female role models. I still desire pieces of that carefully preconceived notion about life’s path. But, I can see that every sentence of my story is woven like a thread into a fantastically intricate tapestry of experiences. None of my moments are worth retu...