Book Review: Myth and Madness by Daniel Hryhorczuk

As I commenced the reading of this book, I found myself placed amidst the cacophony of a political turmoil amongst earnest protesters in a country’s capital city. The focus is on three university students who are passionate about getting their voices heard loud and clear, while also recording events as they unfold. The protagonist is the student recording the protests. He has an unusually deep imagination, because of which he is often dismissed by his companions. As the reader, I found myself unable to make sense of the situation until chapter 3, where the plot eventually starts to come together in a spectacular way. From there on, I was drawn in.  

Myth and Madness is about the healing effect of the mind’s imagination, shown through the eyes of Nick, a university student, whose storytelling abilities often blur the line between fantasy and reality, but this is not always a bad thing for him. He eventually crosses his path with a young and beautiful therapist called Natalka, who, in her own efforts to help Nick during therapy sessions, finds herself coming face to face with her own dark past. 

I appreciated the way in which the writer brought together each of the characters flawlessly in scenes as part of the plot. I experienced moments of surprise, shock, thrill and even trepidation, but I never felt a dull moment while reading this book. It was clear why the book was called “Myth and Madness” instead of, let’s say, “Malice and Murder”: creativity will always outshine cruelty. The most memorable part of the book was the ending, as it symbolised hope and happiness. I always love an ending on a joyous note, where the protagonist is successful in his quest to find his beloved: a true fairy tale ending.

What I enjoyed most while reading this book was that it connected me to a community and culture that is worlds apart from my own. It was my curiosity that led me to find this book: while doing some research on a midwifery internship in the summer of 2021, I came across an interesting birth cohort study and decided to contacted the researcher. I received a prompt and satisfactory reply to my question, and continued to gather information on the study. In doing so, I stumbled across a interesting detail in the bio of the researcher whom I had contacted. His name was Daniel Hryhorczuk, a Professor of Medicine, but there was more. He was also the author of Myth and Madness, and had a BA Honours degree in Creative Writing! That was when I decided to buy the book and read it.

The extraordinary effect of a good story of fiction and fantasy cannot be disregarded. The world needs storytellers, mostly because many of us tend to learn more deeply from an imaginary character’s idiosyncratic experiences than from sweeping philosophies and expansive research.

Reading this book made me realise that regardless of our differing outward identities, we are all united in our desire to live together harmoniously, and with dignity.

To find out more about the author and his published novels, click here: https://www.danielhryhorczuk.com/bio

A serendipitous reminder: Tafseer of Surah Nasr

September arrived rather hastily this year, as though in a hurry to resume normality. It brought with it an autumnal breeze that carried the currents of renewed hope; another chance at becoming better. I took this opportunity to enrol onto a Tafseer class to understand the deeper meaning of the Quran: the word of God.

Pen and paper were at the ready, but my notebook was not the only canvas to absorb the words describing the divine. The heart too, was feeling a shift. The rust of the heart began to make way for the Light of His wisdom, as the words were recited….

“In the name of Allah, the most Merciful, the Most Kind

When the divine help of God has come and the victory. And you see the people entering the Way of God in huge crowds. Then, glorify the praise of your Lord and seek repentance from Him. Indeed, he is the Acceptor of Repentance.”

The heart embraced these verses and felt a renewed vigour and vitality to serve the One. It recognised that the Lord is more Merciful than can ever be imagined, and that His help is ever-lasting. The heart understood that every loss occurs to bring a greater gain; all we must do is trust Him. Going further, the intellectual faculties were exposed to the beauty of the classical Arabic of the Quran: each and every noun, verb, preposition and grammatical concept encoded divine wisdom. Reaching into the depths, the soul felt a shift towards the spiritual realm, and in that moment, all worldly pursuits seemed futile, when compared to the pursuit of seeking Him.

A promise that must be kept

A recent telephone conversation left me questioning: how long will I continue to encourage those who deliberately misunderstand me? How long will I continue to waste the bullet that is aimed to humiliate me, by perpetually dodging it? It was time, I thought, to review the situation and make a promise.

They say actions speak louder than words. I think words can be pretty loud too. Did the conversation I had yesterday morning make me feel better? No. Well, that is not too bad, but did it make me feel misunderstood? Yes, indeed it did. I shared some good news; it was interpreted that I was ‘being too worrisome’ for good things. I shared how my children had extracurricular activities next week, which was met with sarcasm: ‘everyone seems to have things going on these days’. However, there is nothing more that is hurtful than an untruth, or empty words of endearment. I think that is all I want to say about the situation, since it was a minor defect in my otherwise beautiful day, and life, Alhamdulillah. Here is my promise:

I promise

To help others by not giving them the opportunity to commit the wrong of misunderstanding me,

I promise

To help others by not appearing in front of their eyes, so they are not tempted to humiliate me,

I promise

To help others so they are not tempted to entertain their conscience with untruths about me,

I promise

Not to fall prey to empty words of endearment,

I promise

To show gratitude to my Creator for the unlimited abundance of blessings He has bestowed upon me. He is the Source of all good,

And I promise

To pray for each and everyone who hurt me, in any way, to be forgiven by the Merciful Almighty.

Ameen

The Significance of Collective Worship: Ramadhan Reflections

Through the grace of the Almighty, we were blessed with another Ramadhan this year, the second during a lockdown. All hopes for gathering at the local Masjid for our weekly Ta’leems had gone. Or so I thought. It was only with the advent of the Covid-19 that I began to recognise the value of online and virtual classes. Having completed an entire year of undergraduate study online, I was amazed at what this medium could offer us.

So when one of my dear teachers sent a Zoom link for a daily Taleem in Ramadhan, I wanted to seize the opportunity. To spend those 15 minutes every evening on the Ta’leem session was the highlight of each passing night. That I could just participate in the blessing of such a gathering with the click of a button was something I did not want to take for granted. Even when I missed a few sessions when one of my assignment deadlines approached, my teacher checked up on me, to see if all was OK. This is the system of brotherhood/sisterhood in Islam, which is profoundly beautiful. The sacred teachings are what bind us together with compassion. Nowhere else does such brotherhood/sisterhood exist.

The Ta’leem commenced with the recital of Ahadeeth, after which we engaged in Dhikr Sometimes, a Quran Khatam took place, followed by a collective dua. Collective dua is powerful in bringing Muslims together while bringing them close to their Maker.

I pray that the Almighty rewards my teacher abundantly for her time and effort in arranging and leading these Ta’leem sessions, and enables us all to participate in these gatherings with the best of intentions. Ameen.

FREE Arabic lessons for university students as part of a Teaching Practice Project

If you are a university student studying modern standard Arabic, or even if you are a student studying a completely different course but are learning Arabic, why not take advantage of a few free Upper-Intermediate level Arabic lessons?

Not a university student? You are still welcome!

This year, as well as studying modules on grammar, education and academic writing at university, I am doing a teaching project. With years of experience in teaching Arabic and its grammar to secondary school pupils and adults, my project is centred around pedagogical practices related to Arabic grammar. So while I do the work of preparing lesson plans and writing up a 2000 word supporting commentary reflecting on my teaching style, all you have to do is grab a coffee, join the lessons and enjoy! It will be an opportunity for Arabic learners to build on what they already know, make useful contacts, ask questions, share knowledge, and learn a few new grammatical concepts along the way. Oh, and there is no homework for you. A win-win situation.

So, when are these lessons and what is being taught?

On the first and second Wednesday of March on the following dates:

3rd and 10th March 2021 at 1pm to 2pm GMT.

Where? The lessons will be delivered online via Microsoft Teams.

As for the content, 2 grammatical concepts will be taught. These include: the present tense subjunctive and the present tense jussive.

Where are you from?

“So, where are you from?” they ask me, curiosity  

Wreaking havoc with their minds.

If only they knew of my eagerness to  

Put their curious minds to rest, then 

They would spare more than a moment to 

Sit with me, while I allow them to look 

Deep into my soul and seek its roots.

I would say to them,

“Well, I was in the heavens with my Lord, 

Until he placed me in the darkness 

Of my mother’s womb, there I lay 

For nine months in waiting until 

The day I heard her cry.

She cradled me close to her bosom, 

“May the Lord protect you, 

My sweet child.  

Amen.” 

This is what I would say 

To those who seek to know.

If their minds are satiated with 

The answer that I give, they will ask 

The right question, 

“Where are you going?” 

To which I shall reply with head held high, 

Back to where I came from. 

Hope for the youth: a leap in the right direction

Sipping my tea, I watched my teenage son cautiously as he gently paced the kitchen floor. All forlorn, deep in thought. Our city, Preston, had just moved to Tier 3 corona virus restrictions which meant my son’s boxing sessions had been cancelled. I knew just how much the sessions meant to him, and it was hurting me to see him so upset. He stopped pacing.

“Mum, the thing is, I can continue to exercise but I have no one to do it with.”

Since his coming of age, he had transformed in many ways. The way he made requests had changed too. But being his mother, I could decode his words. What he was actually trying to say was, “Mum, I want you to join me when I exercise.”

It was a poignant realization. It was only 2 years ago when he had come home excitedly from school pleading with me if I could run with him at his school FunRun. Of course I obliged, albeit hesitantly. This was a wonderful incident that you can read about below:

https://runabc.co.uk/breaking-down-cultural-barriers-one-10k-at-a-time

But now the tables had turned and even though I am conscious that he needs space, I am equally aware that I must be present when needed and maintain a connection.

“Don’t worry, please, I will join you. We will go this weekend. Let’s go running.” I was the one doing the pleading this time. But then, his face lit up, and his pursed lips broke into a smile.

“And then we can come home and do some circuit training together.”

“Yes, then we’ll have a delicious lunch.”

A pleasing exchange. My son loves keeping active. It’s what keeps him going and he enjoys it very much. I then thought about our young people. Adolescence is a time that they need nurturing and guidance. This includes providing safe spaces for leisurely and sporting activities. My son is always excited about his boxing session on Fridays and I have observed how much it means to him. Sports has taught him discipline and self control. It has given him an opportunity to socialize with others outside a school setting. And it made him feel a sense of freedom. It is for this reason that we must appreciate and support our local communities in creating and sustaining safe spaces for the youth.

It caught my attention, a few weeks ago when I saw that the Running Bee Foundation had organized a virtual race. As well as having some exciting news about new running kit in the pipeline, they are helping local charities. Keep updated about the running kit here:

Want to show your support for your community?

Well we’re going to show you how!

BEE ready for a special reveal soon #BeeActiveBeeHealthyBeeHappy pic.twitter.com/PBFiZacxz4

— The Running Bee Foundation (@TheRunningBee) October 16, 2020

Initiatives like this provide hope for our youth. They had teamed up with a youth charity based in Manchester for a month-long virtual racing event going to The Hideout Youth Zone in the Manchester area. All details including booking can be found below:

The Running Bee’s virtual challenge in support of The HideOut Youth Project is now live!

Perfect, I had thought. I booked the race, confident that it was possible. Since I am not able to commit to longer distance running at the moment, the idea of covering a certain distance over a month meant I could give this a go. It is amazing how this time of uncertainty has made ways for a new opportunity; I will be running a virtual race to support youth, with none other than my own teenage son accompanying me.

I plan to cover a distance of 10K over two days. These will be completed as two 5K runs with my son.

If you think it’s important to support endeavours like this, why not book this race and be part of the positive change?

Anger will take this away from you

I recently shared a quote which read, ‘I sat with my anger long enough, until she told me her real name was grief.

It was a statement expressing a feeling many were able to identify with. Anger takes a lot away from us. Before we can think about that, we must look at what is beneath the surface.

This is exactly what I did, and it prompted me to reflect deeper into why grief or other emotions could be an indirect trigger for a feeling of anger. In doing so, I came across this interesting blog post that described anger as part of an iceberg. Read more below:

The Anger Iceberg

By asking ourselves some questions, we can get to the root of our feelings of anger. At this point I want to add that anger is not always a bad thing. How can you tell? Well, if the consequence of the anger is disastrous, for example smashing a window in rage, then that anger must be controlled. On the other hand, if one’s anger is fuelled by the wrong-doing seen around him, and he is spurred to take an action that benefits society, then in this case, it could be suggested that the anger led to a positive outcome.

Here of course, we are looking at the kind of angry feeling that absorbs us, that prevents us from being productive and that causes us to resent those around us.

Susan David, Ph.D, author of Emotional Agility says,

“Our raw feelings can be the messengers we need to teach us things about ourselves and can prompt insights into important life directions.”

We might have observed this from the behaviour of others as well as our own. A child loses a cricket match and gets angry. The underlying emotions could be frustration and shame. An adult uses their social media platform to vent out their angry feelings about the actions of others. There could be several possible underlying emotions including loneliness, fear or insecurity.

We cannot deny the physiological aspect of anger either. There is a small region in the brain which scientists refer to as the amygdala. This compartment processes all the information related to emotions, anger being one of them. When this happens, we lose our ability to think rationally. This is why there is great wisdom in adopting silence when our rage surfaces. In addition to this, the ability to control anger is linked to a reduced chance of getting heart disease, high blood pressure, heart attack and stroke.

Anger will take this away from you

Anger is a thief of happiness. Anger hinders progress. This is because anger ultimately robs us of our ability to show gratitude. When we are venting, we lose focus of all the blessings in our life. In my religion, anger is strictly prohibited. Also, gratitude is a characteristic we are encouraged to embody. When describing the attributes of the Prophets, their gratefulness and tolerance is often made mention of.

An example of this can be found in the Quran where Allah said of Noah (peace be upon him):

{O descendants of those We carried [in the ship] with Noah. Indeed, he was a grateful (shakur) servant.}(Al-Isra’ 17: 3)

Prescriptions for anger

Each of us has different ways of dealing with anger (at least we should). Personally, I have found the best prescriptions in the Hadeeth of the Prophet Muhammad (Sallallaahu alaihi wa sallam). He was a highly emotionally intelligent person. Some of his advices for controlling anger include:

Prayers; staying silent when angry; sitting or lying down to calm down and performing ablution (water extinguishes the fire of anger).

An example of a prescribed prayer:

Umm Salamah reported: I said, “O Messenger of Allah, teach me a supplication with which I can pray for myself.” The Messenger of Allah, peace and blessings be upon him, said, “Say: O Allah, forgive my sins, remove the anger in my heart, and protect me from the trials of misguidance.” اللَّهُمَّ اغْفِرْ لِي ذَنْبِي وَأَذْهِبْ غَيْظَ قَلْبِي وَأَجِرْنِي مِنْ مُضِلاتِ الْفِتَنِ Source: al-Du’ā lil-Ṭabarānī 1340, Sahih

I too pray that we can adopt characteristics such as gratefulness, so that we can continue to perfect ourselves as individuals and as communities.

A miracle on the moving train – a recent encounter

When you think of a moving train, what comes to your mind? A scene from a James Bond movie maybe, of characters engaged in fierce battle on top of the train? Or a young maiden running to catch up with her lover as he stretches out his arm desperately from the window? Whatever it may be, moving trains tell many stories. When I think of a moving train, I imagine a deep conversation between two complete strangers. Well, this is exactly what happened last Friday. Let me tell you more.

It was 5:03pm at the Burnley train station. I was on my way back to Preston after a seminar at the UCLAN Burnley Campus. Passengers rushed to get the seats. I trudged along the aisle, past the seats that read “Out of Use”. Where could I sit? Eventually, I found a seat opposite a rosy-cheeked young lady who wore spectacles. “May I sit here?” I asked. “Of course.”

I sat quietly. I am not able to use my phone on a moving vehicle as I have motion sickness. So, I simply alternated between looking out the window and observing the young lady as she tapped her phone. After a while, she answered a phone call. This was when my face lit up. She spoke the most beautiful Arabic I have heard. I sat and admired the linguistic exchange, and once she finished her call, was compelled to initiate a conversation.

After seeing her lanyard, I asked her if she was a student, making some vigorous gestures to make up for my masked face. She told me she was, and that she hoped to study medicine next year. Her face shone like the moon, but her eyes looked heavy from carrying an unknown sadness. She continued,

“I am Syrian. I fled Syria 4 years ago because of the war. When I came to the UK, I did not speak a word of English. I was told I had to sit my GCSEs. I had no idea what that was! I hope I can one day go back and help in my country.”

My heart began to tremble, and I thought I would have nothing to say. Then I remembered my love for the Arabic language.

“I understand Arabic!” I told her excitedly yet cautiously.

We spoke in Arabic and she marveled at how well I spoke. We were both smiling and laughing. We had a long conversation about how to go about applying for medicine. I told her I could help with her personal statement for her UCAS application. Numbers were exchanged.

We were approaching the next stop: Preston. What I hadn’t noticed was that all the while we were talking, a young woman was watching us. I thought nothing of it when I had occasionally glanced at her. As we arrived at the train station, the young woman jumped off her seat, coming towards us. I watched as she hurriedly addressed us, then turned towards the Syrian maiden.

“Excuse me, I am so sorry to bother you. I just heard you are applying for medicine. I want to let you know I can help. I am from Iraq and I am a third year medical student. Here, please take my number.”

“Thank you so much!” said my Syrian companion. We all exited the train cheerfully.

I stopped, taking in what had just happened. This was my story on the moving train; a conversation that could change someone’s life. Indeed, a miracle on a moving train.

What was never lost

There is no doubt that each and every one of us lives to experience loss and hardship in different forms. After years of retrospection, I finally understood (rather than just learnt) that loss and hardships can become the gateway to purifying our souls, enabling us to turn into a more wholesome being.

A while ago, I came across a beautiful Hadith (Prophetic tradition) where Ibn Abi Hatim reported on the authority of Abu Hurayrah (may Allah be pleased with him) that the Prophet (Sallallaahu ‘Alaihi Wa Sallam said:

“…then Allah displayed them (i.e. Adam’s children) in front of him. Some of them were blind, some of them were lepers and others had other sorts of diseases. Adam said, ‘O’ my Lord, why did you do this with my children?’ Allah said, ‘In order that they thank Me over My blessings.'”

Stories of the Prophets by Ibn Katheer

I remember thinking very deeply about this, and when certain events unfolded in my own life, I truly comprehended those words of the Hadith. I experienced different kind of losses – not always tactile – which ultimately caused me to adopt humility, express gratittude and to look at the creation of God through a lens of deep empathy.

Loss of a job and community

In the winter of 2006, I started a job as a teacher at a newly opened secondary Islamic school. I loved my job with all my heart and often went above and beyond to make sure that classes were running smoothly. That half hour walk every morning to school, was the best part of my day. However, everything was about to change, and within six months, I was seperated from the thing I loved the most; the job that had brought me so much happiness. Within two years, I was living in a different town, miles away. The women I once knew and worked with soon forgot me and I became a distant memory. I tried hard to fill this void by holding Islamic classes for women. I wanted to continue the good work. I could get to know people and build new connections. Unfortunately, the inner emptiness I felt continued to grow, until it seemed as if I was never that vibrant teacher who once loved the company of her students and colleagues. Looking back, I am thankful that this happened, as it taught me the importance of valuing myself. My desperation to keep connected with those whom I had either studied or worked with, was soon replaced with contentment with oneself. Amazingly, once I did this, new connections and bonds began to blossom on their own. Accepting God’s degree brings peace to the heart.

Loss of opportunity

In 2017, after moving to Preston, I thought it would be ideal to apply for a job at the local Islamic Girls Secondary school. A teacher had encouraged me to apply, so I plucked up the courage to do so. However, it soon became clear that my qualifications were not enough; I had to have a degree and a PGCE and it was no longer acceptable to teach Islamic subjects with only an Aalimah qualification (as was once common practice). It was something I bitterly accepted at the time but years later I realized that nothing had been lost; I was being guided to something greater, and it wasn’t long before I enrolled onto university to study a degree. Moreover, I had a lot of improvements to make on myself, which I had the opportunity to do at university. More importantly, I made new friends and built new connections.

Loss of respect and reputation

After years of wearing the face veil, I came to a point where I decided to wear it no more. This sparked outrage amongst many. In certain groups, I would no longer be accepted. To make matters worse, my chances of applying for jobs as an Islamic teacher became limited. I remember one woman once remarked, “Have you thought of applying for such and such job? Oh, actually they won’t accept you – you don’t wear Niqab.” She laughed dryly, then added, “but I’ll see if I can get a word in for you.”

Instead of the standard “How are you?”, I was addressed with, “So, you don’t wear Niqab (face veil)?.”

I remember thinking that it would be an act of great hypocrisy and selfishness to now don the face veil just to fit into a certain group or to get a certain type of job. Suffering the consequences was a better option.

I am sincerely grateful for such experiences, because it created in me, an intense humility. Soon, this feeling of humility helped me become more accepting of other’s choices in all matters of life. I was able to see things from their perspective. I also learned to keep busy with correcting my own wrongs instead of picking out the wrongs of others. We live in a world where slandering and criticism is often disguised as “commanding others to do good”. This is not the Prophetic way, I believe.

Final thoughts

Every time I lost something, it was to remove blemishes from my heart. To remove pride, arrogance, hatred and hardness. This is why, I am eternally grateful for the things I have lost. For what I have gained in return, is what I needed most, and God knew that before anyone else did.

The songwriter Sami Yusuf articulates it well enough in his song Grounded:

Losing the crown

Would only keep me grounded

I know the fall

Could only keep me humble

Losing it all

Would only leave me grateful

I could take it

I would not break

If you’re there for me.