Monday, 27 July 2015

Why I stopped writing

Or more exactly – posting /publishing.

It’s not like someone who is attached to his pen and paper could ever stop writing and this way getting rid of all his thoughts. Over time writing becomes an obsession and develops into more of a need than a hobby. And its not even like I stopped caring for my blog. I was recently checking my website, never even thinking about shutting it down.
But since I couldnt get myself to post anything, the idea of closing it all down completely  drew closer. It only seemed logical for the last few weeks. Whenever I had written and then was about to click on the tiny little ‘publish’ button a thought crossed my mind. I asked myself whether this text was needed and beneficial. None of them WERENT, but none of them were very beneficial in a sense that it might have some real impact as well. I also thought, that I am not qualified to write in any way. In religious regards – I am not an alim, Im not even a theologian, although I’ve benefitted from a good religious education from child –age on.So I have knowledge, but not even nearly as much as those who are truly qualified to state any opinion – I thought.

People should go on and read texts, which were truly important and of truly qualified poeple. The internet makes nearly everything easily  accessible from home. Ancient texts of great scholars of the islamic history have become available in modern English.Those were texts worth the read. Texts worth the time. Truly educating texts. Who were I ? I shouldnt waste peoples time.

I never talked about this to anyone. When I finally opened up to a friend of mine she shook her head. ‘Thats so wrong’, she said. ‘Those who read that kind of literature will continue doing so and those who dont might get into the muslim mindset through yours.’
One more reason was, that I  noticed my texts getting more and more critical of other people. Especially liberal ‘neomuslims’ as I call them. Doubting any benefit from putting out criticism I didnt post any of these texts.
Just to realize now,that the opinions I hold might be radical, but should be put out there to give a counterside to all the wishy washy ‘Islam is only love’-texts which are on the rise.
I hope we can reverse this trend.

However – thats why I had stopped.

And thats why I’ll ınsaallah start again. Just need some motivation

Saturday, 3 January 2015

The stranger in many commmumities


In search for the essence I walked through many doors, in lack of knowledge I sat with many people.And in absence of wisdom I was secretly looking to find one door of absolute truth. I was looking for complete taqwa, absolute wisdom, perfect knowledge and firy speech. I was searching for someone perfect to take me as a student. I was hoping for the perfect scholar, the perfect community.
How foolish I was that I didn’t want to realize by heart what was so obvious to my eyes.

Anyone after the prophet (saw) is open to criticism, because it is the nature of humankind to fail, to forget, to sin, to err. No knowledge makes one immune to mistakes as well as no fame of the world confirms ones rightousness. In fact fame corrupts and knowledge taken for the mere will of knowing makes the heart arrogant and self-righteous.
Wisdom is in many places, on many tongues and in various clothes. Noone has it in completion so in order to collect it one has to go from door to door, from scholar to scholar. Sometimes one needs to ask beggars, and sometimes the wealthiest of people.

On has to stop looking for perfect communities as there are no such communities. I have to stop looking at communities in general, why do they matter. 
You come alone and you go alone, so sustain alone.
Don’t get used to people.
Be a stranger in gatherings.
Come for Allah , stay for Allah and go for Allah.
Be a secret lover.

Friday, 26 December 2014

Thoughts on wealth and addiction

In the name of Allah the most merciful the most

My brain became loud yesterday, louder than normal. So loud that it even overpowered the noise of my heart, although I was sitting at a Tafseer lesson (interpretation of the holy Quran) which I thought would challenge mostly the heart. But indeed one needs the intellect and the heart, and both of them are intertwined for eternity. One can not come to use its full potential without the other.
And yesterday my intellect interrupted the noise of my heart. And I started to think about wealth.

I hope to have gained a little bit more of understanding, a little bit more of insight into the endless wisdom of the holy Quran. If there is anything beneficial in my thoughts I should share them, so here –after again a long period of abstinence – I am about to share a fraction of them with everyone whos willing to connect with them and take them in with a clean heart.

The Quran teaches us about dozens of civilisations which come and go , come and go endlessly . With patience the Allmighty tells us the very similar story of many civilisations which got doomed because of very similar crimes. One of the many parallels you see between the doomed civilisations of this earth is that they are almost never poor. On quite the opposite they were rich in every aspect to be thought of in a materialistic sense, often times had mastered difficult disciplines like architecture and were prospering in means of culture and wealth.

At the same time the downward spiral sets in almost everytime  with rising wealth. Greed comes into the hearts. But why is it that those who have more than enough become stingy in spending ? Why do those who have every reason to be grateful become ungrateful? What is it, that comes into the human heart with wealth ? And what is it that happens in the human mind?

It is surely connected to the illusion of humankind to gain power through wealth. The one who makes continously the experience of achieving all they want for this world with money attribute power to it and fail to see its limits. If money means power and power corrupts, man becomes arrogant through is money.

But this is not what I want to focus on as it seems to me that this is common sense. Today I’d like to go a little further and take also into consideration what the almighty has given us as a cure.

''O you who have believed, indeed many of the scholars and the monks devour the wealth of people unjustly and avert [them] from the way of Allah . And those who hoard gold and silver and spend it not in the way of Allah - give them tidings of a painful punishment.''

Allah commands to spend money on his path and not hoard it. Now we know that money itself is not a problem if it comes and goes, but becomes problematic if its kept for the hearts of its temporary owners.
There must be a crucial difference in the value of wealth between those who dont have it in masses and those who do.

For the wealthy money becomes the means of an addiction. The hoarder is addicted.  From a specific limit on there are no basic needs one could fullfill with wealth anymore. All material/physical needs are fullfilled at that point, so that money itself becomes useless to raise ones levels of contentment. But at that point man is already the victim of his own operant  conditioning , because until that point came, he always experienced the fullfillment of his needs with money. Staying true to that schema he tries to comprimise mental or social needs through wealth, money now gets an intrinsic value. It becomes good in and in it self, making the gain of it a positive thing. It is no longer the means to anything. It becomes a purpose.

And as we know from experience the inhibition becomes higher and higher everytime to achieve some level of contentment through material goods. We can see an addictional behavior. Wealth is the narcotic and seperation from narcotics is hard.
How wise becomes the recommendation of my Lord now in the context of these thoughts and modern psychology. How endlessly wise is He ,who has given the cure with the disease and how ignorant would we be to not follow the commandments of the one, who has created us and knows our own souls better than ourself.
Lets give away what we have and spend on the path of the most merciful, so that our hearts remain poor in matters of the physical world and have space for real wealth, the wealth of knowing and loving our rabb. 

 Subhanaallah <3

Monday, 6 October 2014

for sure

In the name of Allah,the Most Graciousthe Most Merciful

 In this life nothing is for sure. There is no such thing as character,there are only situations and behaviors.There is no such thing like a permanent decision, there are merely temporary contentments with them. There is no one-way-road, the traffic on the highway of life is constantly dense in both directions. There is no such thing as a guaranteed status, there are only long moments.

Nothing in this world stays like it is,  nothing, because this is the very nature of this dunya. It is the essence of this dimension : change. And no change comes withouth pain if you loved or just got attached to moments of the past.
Change means pain and it will always mean pain if you don't understand how this place is designed to hurt you : This dunya is temporary , it exists through collapsing moments quickly followed by newly created ones, it exists through change. This dimension is temporary, but you were designed for the eternity.

If change is pain and dunya is constant change, than dunya is constant pain.

Nothing in this world stays like it is, not even the vehicles in which we move through this dimension do: the body renews itself constantly, withdrawn from my control. Even I myself change and even this is out of my control.

Two chances exist for mankind to escape that viscious cycle :
He either escapes dunya and enters into eternity or he stops getting attached to moments. Moments go, don't hold on to them, to nothing in your life. Whether good or bad, moments pass. They go and they never return until the day of ultimate justice.

Let go, they will either go eitherway.

Saturday, 5 April 2014

Wie Heimat ein Begriff für mich wurde

Als ich heute meinen alten Block aufschlug, sprang mir ein alter Text entgegen, den ich verfasst haben musste als noch nichts klar war was meinen Verbleib für dieses Jahr angeht. Ich fühle mittlerweile anders, ich liebe die Türkei und ich möchte mein restliches Leben hier verbringen, aber für mich allein behalten will ich den Text dann doch lieber nicht.


Gestern bin ich 18 geworden.Vor kurzer Zeit habe ich meiin Abitur abgelegt.
Die Welt steht mir nun offen, ich möchte studieren.
Wer die Universitäten verfolgt wird wissen, dass die NC durch die Dächer durch sind ( Erziehungswissenschaften 1,8) und man unmöglich studieren kann. Mein Wunschstudium Psychologie liegt bei 1,0. Also habe ich mich in ganz Deutschland und auch privat beworben.Wenn nicht endlich mehr Studienplätze und menschliche Zugangsvoraussetzungen geschaffen werden wird das die Privatisierung des Bildungssektors forcieren aber das steht auf einem anderen Blatt.
Heute möchte ich über etwas ganz anderes sprechen. Mein Blog ist nicht politisch, mir geht es um Gefühle, um die menschlichen Auf- und Abfahrten im Leben. Ich möchte über Heimat sprechen. Und ich möchte ein Geständnis ablegen.

Beykoz korusu

Da ich bis Oktober Zeit habe genieße ich momentan den Luxus mich zwei Monate im Urlaub in der Türkei zu befinden.Meine Familie befindet sich schon in Deutschland.Als  nun schon zwei Absagen und ein Ausschluss eintrudelten (mein NC liegt übrigens bei 1,7)  rief mein Vater mich an und berichtete mir von der Möglichkeit in Istanbul zu studieren -Vollstipendium, Privatuni mit hochgradiger akademischer Belegschaft, kleinen Kursen, internationaler Studentenschaft, auf Englisch und mit einem Double Major.
Ich war begeistert und bewarb mich sofort.Man war sehr freundlich, half mir wo nur möglich und gab mir das Vollstipendium.
Voller Elan stürtzte ich mich in den Papierkram und begann Istanbul zu erkunden, nach einer Bleibe zu suchen - zwei Wochen verstrichen.
beylerbeyi  iskelesi  
Ich begann zu zögern. Mein 18.Geburtstag verstrich ohne meine Familie, die wichtigste Nacht (Laylatul-Quadr) im islamischen Kalender ebenfalls und das Ramadanfest würde ebenfalls ohne Familie verstreichen.
Fatih camii
Ich begann alleine zu weinen. Meine Tränen waren überraschend, sie überrumpelten mein Umfeld und am allermeisten mich selbst. Weder konnte ich das fremde Nass auf meinem Gesicht stoppen, noch den Schmerz in der Brust. Untröstlich weinte ich eine ganze Stunde lang. Dann konnte lediglich das Gebet meinen Schmerz stillen, mich trösten.
Es scheint hier als würde ich ziemlich häufig weinen, aber das ist mitnichten der Fall. Es ist nur so, dass ich jedes Mal schreibe wenn ich weine.
Ich vermisste meine Mutter und ich hatte das seltsame Verlangen in dieses mich ablehnende Land Deutschland zurückzuwollen. Wenn ich alleine in Istanbul umherirrte fühlte ich Zuneigung, Zugehörigkeit aber eben auch Verwirrung. Gewisse Dinge stachen mir  ins Auge, ich störte mich regelrecht an ihnen..

Und dann stand ich vor der seltsamen, viel zu großen, viel zu erwachsenen Aufgabe mein Leben selbst in die Hand zu nehmen und mir ein Land als meine Heimat auszusuchen. Sollte ich mein Herz in der Hälfte durchschneiden?
Ja, als junge aufbrausende Ayşe verkündete ich immer lauthals ich sei stolze Türkin ,wollte nichts mit Deutschland zu tun haben und wollte sowieso zurück in die Türkei.
Diese Göre ist heute etwas zahmer geworden.
Da sie nun an der Weggabelung steht ist sie sich nun doch nicht mehr ganz so sicher.Und dann fällt ihr plötzlich ein, dass sie über dem ganzen Ärger mit der Islamophobie und dem Rassismus ja doch irgendwie dieses komische Dings hat: Dieses... Deutschsein.
Irgendwie ist ihr das ganze von damals auch ein wenig peinlich und sie weiß, dass es so gut wie allen Migrantenkindern so geht wie ihr.Sie weiß, dass viele das nicht unbedingt realisieren bevor sie vor der Wahl stehen, es vielleicht verdrängen oder so. Wahrscheinlich lesen das auch grade auch ein paar von eben diesen Migrantenkindern, schütteln heftig die Köpfe und verfluchen Ayşe, weil sie ja so einen Unsinn verzapft. Sie kennt das am besten von sich selbst.
Und nun, da ich zugegeben habe, dass ich wohl auch irgendwie Deutsche bin, ja verdammt nochmal dann hattet ihr eben Recht, dann habt ihr mich eben erwischt, möchte ich zeigen wieso: Gewisse Prinzipien gehen ins Blut über.
Ich liebe in Deutschland die Pünktlichkeit, dass man zu einem Rendezvous eben nicht eine halbe Stunde später erscheint als vereinbart und die Handwerker die sich für 12 angekündigt haben auch um 12 auf der Matte stehen und nicht um 17 Uhr. Ich liebe die Genauigkeit mit der gearbeitet wird, dass die neue Dusche nicht knirscht und die Wand bis an den Rand abgeklebt und bemalt wird statt einfach die hässlichen Übermalungen in Kauf zu nehmen.
Ich schätze die Gesetzestreue, die Loyalität gegenüber Regeln und Autoritäten, dass man im Verkehr auf Ampeln achtet, auf Schilder und nicht 120 auf einer 60 km/h-Strecke fährt.Dass man sich anschnallt.
Ich mag die Ablehnung gegenüber reinen Oberflächlichkeiten, die Geringschätzung von Statussymbolen und die kritische Hinterfragung der eigenen Position. Ich liebe das gute Auge für Polemik,Halbwissen und Scharlatane.Ich liebe die Diskussionskultur und das prinzipiell erst einmal jeder das Recht hat seine Position darzulegen.
Ich schätze die Disziplin,die Arbeitsmoral, die Professionalität, den Fleiß.
Ich hasse den Rassismus, die Islamophobie, die Kälte, dass man allein in der Menge ist, das Fehlen von ordentlichen familiären Strukturen, die Missachtung von menschlichen Notsituationen.
Ich liebe in der Türkei die Freundlichkeit,das Fehlen von Fremdheit.
Ich liebe die Zivilcourage, die Hilfsbereitschaft, dass mich der Onkel am Abend an der Busstation in den richtigen  Bus dirigiert und sogar mich bis nach Hause begleitet, es als unverschämt betractet als ich mein Portemonnaie zücke und darauf besteht zu zahlen.
Ich liebe die lachenden Gesichter in der Sonne, die Zufriedenheit der Menschen mit einfachen Dingen. Dem Meer zum Beispiel und einer kühlen Brise.
Ich vergöttere das praxisorientierte Denken, dass eben das Ergebnis zählt und Regeln nur einem Zweck dienen. Dass man sie eben auch mal missachten kann , wenn sie unnütz sind. Dass uns die Bibliothekarin nicht verbietet zu dritt am Tisch zu sitzeb, weil es 'REGEL !' ist.
Ich sterbe für den Çay am Abend, die Geschichten der Alten, die man achtet ,pflegt und  nicht ins Altenheim abschiebt. Ich liebe das Gefühl eine Nation zu sein.
Ich hasse die Großmauligkeit, die extreme Vorgehensweise gegeneinander in der Politik, die Unpünktlichkeit, die Faulheit.

Mein Herz ist gespalten in vier Teile. Eines liebt, eines hasst die Türkei. Eines liebt, eines hasst Deutschland.

Gott sei Dank bin ich nicht nur Türkin und Deutsche, sondern in erster Linie Muslima.
Allah sei gepriesen.

Auf nach İstanbul ! Auf in ein neues Leben ! 

Üsküdar iskelesi 

Monday, 17 March 2014

Why Zuhd ? Neden züht ?

There is this time in our lifes when we reach a level of faith we would love to keep.We feel like we have lived our whole life for no reason before, we feel like we breath really for the first time , like we love for the first time and are real abids in a sense. We might think that we did belong to the munafiqin before and wish to keep this high level of iman.

It doesnt stay. 
And thats normal. The point is to never go under a certain standard. Imaan doesnt come and go but it isnt constant as well. Sometimes its very high, at times it loses its strength. Our struggle is to keep it as high as possible and lose our life at a point when our heart burns in the love of our creator.

So I asked myself. What did I do wrong ?

 Why didnt it stay as high as it was before? What was the one, essential thing I was doing differently when I compared my present self to my past-self ? I found an answer.
Then I looked around. I asked myself what was making the people so different although they were basically exposed to the same things? I especially focused on the people in my community. We were all sitting in the same classes, listening to the same pictures, the same rooms, same imaams, same , same , same... Yet , some of my brothers and sisters in Islam were so pious and others were'nt impressed by the truth they were being exposed to at all. I believed to have found the answer. And I found it to be identical with the answer I had found for myself, on an individual level. So I belıeve to have found the answer I have searched for. Something I consider worth sharing.

The very foundation of faith is independent thought.
The very foundation foundation for independent thought on the other hand is time. Time to ponder and a clear mind.
Do we have time ? Yes we do. The statement ' I dont have time!' is probably one of the biggest lies of our time.We have always time for our priorities. The question is never whether you have time for something or not, but whether you consider something as important enough to spend your time on it.
Do I have a clear mind ? No. The second premisse is not met. Now lets go further. Why dont I have a clean mind? And what does 'clean' mean. 
Lets think of our minds as something like a vessel. When is a vessel 'clean' ? When it is empty or filled exclusively with things it was supposed to be filled with.Whenever something that wasnt supposed to be put in it enters the vessel it becomes 'dirty'. The level of dirt varies of course, you can fill a vessel only with junk or only with goodness, but the moment something bad enters it it is not pure any longer. 
What is it that we fill our minds with ? Information. We fill our minds with information. When we see a picture, listen to some music or just spend our time at a specific event we process what we sense and store it as a piece of information. So we have to be very  carfeful what we expose ourself to.

İt doesnt really matter how much you dislike ssomething - if you are constantly exposed to it you will store it. It will occpy your mind and eventually become part of your identity. So lets be careful what we expose ourselves to.

We are all born upon the fitrah of tawhid. So theoretically we should have high imaan in our natural state. Therefore low imaan had to be a consequence of distraction. Logically I had to get rid of all the distractions.
I asked myself : What are my distractions ?

1) Food 

I may not look like it, but I eat horrific amounts of food. I eat constantly, there is no satiation for me when it comes to food. The more the better. I eat when I am excited and I eat when I am bored. Not because I am hungry -but because I am in a constant search for stimulation. And food is the easiest accessible stimulator, not to mention that it never fails to work. In one way it has become an addiction for me, food is a kind of a drug in my state.


I am a woman. I spend time on my clothing and make-up.
But during the last semester I started spending more thoughts on it and whenever I have free time I tend to either eat or - go on instagram to look out for some fashion.

3) Entertainment

That includes the entire internet. I gave up watching TV and reading novels 6 years ago, but that doesnt mean, that I gave up entertainment completely. I dont believe that you have to do so completely, but I believe that entertainment is wasted time and I as a muslim cant afford that.It should be very minimal. Just enough. 

4) People
Useless conversations, unneccessary people, unneccessary gatherings. From most of them we dont only not benefit but are harmed. I will cut it down.

Lastly about the title I chose : I am not defending a complete abstinence from all this in no way. Nor do I agree with withdrawing oneself from the world. But I do believe, that our hearts are easily occupied by the dunya and in order to get rid of it we need some zuhd.

Monday, 16 December 2013

Turning points

We all have these moments in life,when we have lost our direction.
When we start feeling numb,when we just function.We dont live,dont feel.We are confused,we start thinking our emotions,instead of feeling them.
And then there comes this saving moment.The turning point.For most people its a conversation,a person,a place,a smell,an object.
For me it has always been a moment.A moment of silence. And darkness. I need the darkness,the night,the merciful covering of everything physical.I have to close my eyes,lose my visual sense and let rationality die.
I might even see,my eyes might still be open,but the signals dont reach my brain.I see the elements,but dont get the pictures.Thats when my heart comes back. And it says 'Hey,Im here.I still feel.I am still alive. And hey,I know the direction to go.Im not blaming you for not following the last days.Just come back.Come back.Follow me.I'll guide you home.Let me be your light on your path to Allah.'
At all turning points of my life I've written my feelings down.I've written it all down,let the feelings pour out.

And then I've kept it to myself.

But today I want to share one of these turning points
Istanbul is crazy.Its beautiful and its crazy.I mean Berlin is a metropole.But Istanbul is just a new dimension of craziness and speed for me.And it bcecame too much for me at once.İt was just too much. Too much.Too much at once.
So I was feeling like a machine,I was functioning ,in order to protect my naive,innocent self.And the moment you become a machine,you mistake other people for being machines too.Because you have no heart and you feel with your brain,or at least you think you feel with your brain (I dont know to which extent this is possible,but I'm quite sure everyone has experienced this),you assume that other people dont have a heart either.You dont treat them respectless or rude,but you become passive,you only answer questions.You never ask,because you are not interested in the one in front of you.You are only interested in yourself,in your own state,your own thoughts,your own feelings. The most precious thing one can give is true,selfless interest.For the sake of the other.When people talked to me I was only fed up with behaving right myself,with avoiding risks,with staying in my own state.Sometimes I got bored,I tried to escape out of that cage I created on my own.But I didnt even knew how I created that cage,how could I know which key was the right one to escape?

And then,when I got bored I tried to use other people as a means to explorations,to new things,to excitement and ultimately to any true feeling at all again.I hadnt felt anything in ages,I was even willing to experience the worst kind of sadness,of anger and grief.I was just desperate for emotions.And so I tried to exploit other people,I wanted them to stimulate me,I acted like a parasite and forgot that I was still dealing with humans.Humans with hearts,with emotion. Just HUMANS.

So I sat down this one evening,it was already dark, with my friend at the harbor and was eating kumpir.Not that I was hungry.Again: I was just in desperate search for stimulation.
We sat in front of the mosque,in front of us the now closed historical Mimar Sinan Bazaar and a beautiful fountain.It was not summer anymore,but not cold as well.The ever so vital place we were at seemed to be empty.We were the only ones sitting at the benches.It seemed like humankind had left this place to us.And since my friend is really close to me,I felt like the place was left to me.She was just an extension of me (what a disgusting,egocentric thought,but thats how I felt).We sat there and talked about this and that as the fountain turned off at exactly 8pm.We watched the waves in the water calming down until it was just an even surface.No sound,no movement,no life,nothing.Just calmness.In this very moment I saw myself in the water.It represented me prefectly.The loud noise might have stopped with the fountain.but so did the beauty,the whole purpose of the fountain dissolve.

I started crying.

The tears were rolling down my cheeks and I knew exactly why.
I started talking,but everytime I started something stopped me.Something from deep within held me back.The words were coming to the tip pf my tongue,but there was no way for them to find out.
So we sat there.
And I looked at the water.
And somewhere between the calm surface of the lifeless water and the neverending problems of my teenage-adult-something-in-between-being I chose to turn.To leave the path I was on and get back on track.

I turned.

Turned my face to my creator and again said ' I have sinned,Oh Lord! I have transgressed against my own soul. Forgive Et-Tevvab!'