March 1, 2014

Divinity & Our Sense of Self. ~ Nillu Nasser Stelter

Photo: courtesy of author

When I was pregnant with my daughter (a little over four years ago), I remember my mom bringing up religion with my husband, who’s an atheist.

“The moment you see the baby born, you’ll hear hallelujahs. I’m sure of it” she said, only half teasing. “You can’t witness something so magical without believing in God.”

After our daughter was born, mom brought it up again. “So, do you feel any differently about religion now?” she asked.

“Errr, it was really special, of course, but no, not really!” he said.

Which religion (if any) we grow up believing in is more often than not a matter of coincidence.

My husband grew up in East Germany under communism where there was no room for religion. I’m Muslim, but neither my brother nor I go to the mosque as often as my parents would like. There’s no pressure on their part to attend, although I know it would mean a lot to them if we were to show more interest.

Growing up, I found their über-involvement in the community a little difficult to deal with and craved freedom to act away from it. I much prefer religion to be a personal form of expression than a communal one, but that’s just an individual choice.

I guess many Muslims would say that the way I practice my faith is lackadaisical.

From time to time, I’ve remembered loved ones we’ve lost, and said prayers for them. I pray more since having the children as a way to say thank you for the joy they bring us and because I feel it protects them and keeps them safe. I recognise that for me, as for most people, faith is not based on logic but reflects my upbringing instead. If I dissect my behaviour, I must admit that I act selfishly, because although I believe in God, practicing my faith is tied to what’s in it for me.

I’ve begun to wonder though if there is a purer form of divinity open to everyone; one that does not discriminate between believers and non-believers. The sort that makes you catch your breath when you see the sun glinting on the ocean or when you feel a real connection with another person that serves to remind you just how special this world is.

And there are the whisperings; I can’t be the only one that feels them.

The tiny flashes of knowledge that pass through your mind when you are otherwise occupied, telling you to write that story, spend more time with that person, do that course of study, jack in that job, because something better awaits if only you open up and apply yourself to it.

If you dare to blink, these thoughts disappear as quickly as they appeared, and you’re left with a remnant of brilliance that has escaped, leaving you to continue your usual trajectory. You can call these moments intuition, the whisperings of muses or even divine wisdom.

Whichever camp you fall into, it seems to me that we should be listening out for those internal voices and giving them the credence they deserve. Too much of the way we live our lives today is about keeping up with the Joneses, or making sure we haven’t missed the latest trend to rock Twitter. We’re buffeted this way and that, and in keeping ourselves so exhaustingly busy, we miss the signs that really count.

I’d like to make a stand for keeping our eyes and ears peeled for the doors the universe opens for us, for the quiet hum of our muses and for the truthful voices we silence in ourselves.

You see, there is something divine about the potential we all have. There is something holy about being true to our selves. It’s far too easy to ignore our talents and conform to the standard social templates around us. There’s a time for logic and there’s a time for reckless abandonment for the sake of our dreams.

Who knows—maybe your dreams aren’t as crazy as you thought.

Maybe, just maybe, they are exactly who you are supposed to be.

“Every man is a divinity in disguise; a god playing the fool.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson



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Editor: Bryonie Wise



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Nillu Nasser Stelter