On Fasting

Dread. Exhaustion. Growth. Thankfulness.

I am always filled with mixed emotions when Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting, comes around each year. In the days leading up, I get really worried. How can I not eat until nearly 8:30pm? No water, no food, no cursing. Whew.

And then, it starts. Day 1 is rough, but not as bad as I feared. I break down at 4:30pm and start crying in a store. I am not crying for myself, though. I start crying for all the children and adults in the world that "fast" every day, unwilling. I cry for those that are starving. I cry for those that don't eat in abundance every night. I cry for those children whose bellies are rounded from being malnourished and have flies on their faces.

Day 2. I am actually all right until around 7:30pm. I start feeling nauseous, but I am grateful that supper is cooked. I have made a nice bit pot of shrimp fried rice and petit fours are in the refrigerator as a special treat. I am just exhausted from waking at 5am and eating and drinking, and therefore waking up every 30 minutes thereafter to pee. I am not rested, but I am blessed.

There are many days to go. It seems daunting right now, but all I can do is take one day at a time and let this month cleanse me. It can cleanse my body, soul and mind. I do know that I feel grateful. I feel proud to be doing this in solidarity with my fellow Muslims. Now, more than ever, we must pull together.

Labels: religion