“Courage is the discovery that you may not win, and trying when you know you can lose.” - Tom Krause
We know we may lose, we may fail, we may cry, we may fall, feel sad and grieve. But, in spite of this we have to keep trying. The death of my father has had me face more tears and sadness than I ever imagined I would feel. I feel as if I am a new woman, half-orphan. Yet, in the midst of facing my tears and loss, feeling weak and vulnerable - I know it takes courage to feel. Life is filled with these paradoxes, for our amusement.
So, if you've been wondering what happened to your sister, friend, fashionista and fellow blogger - I have been hurting and healing and having the courage to keep it moving by opening a new store on 51 West 116th Street, Boutique 82 in New York City, to do some fashion shows (one in Atlanta and another in Philadelphia) and to remake the website - FINALLY!. So, please visit the new site: www.hijabicouture.com. But, more importantly, please keep my family in your dua'as. Please, ask Allah that we may have the courage to accept His will and to be pleased with it.
Courage
by Anne Sexton
It is in the small things we see it.
The child's first step,
as awesome as an earthquake.
The first time you rode a bike,
wallowing up the sidewalk.
The first spanking when your heart
went on a journey all alone.
When they called you crybaby
or poor or fatty or crazy
and made you into an alien,
you drank their acid
and concealed it.
Later,
if you faced the death of bombs and bullets
you did not do it with a banner,
you did it with only a hat to
comver your heart.
You did not fondle the weakness inside you
though it was there.
Your courage was a small coal
that you kept swallowing.
If your buddy saved you
and died himself in so doing,
then his courage was not courage,
it was love; love as simple as shaving soap.
Later,
if you have endured a great despair,
then you did it alone,
getting a transfusion from the fire,
picking the scabs off your heart,
then wringing it out like a sock.
Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow,
you gave it a back rub
and then you covered it with a blanket
and after it had slept a while
it woke to the wings of the roses
and was transformed.
Later,
when you face old age and its natural conclusion
your courage will still be shown in the little ways,
each spring will be a sword you'll sharpen,
those you love will live in a fever of love,
and you'll bargain with the calendar
and at the last moment
when death opens the back door
you'll put on your carpet slippers
and stride out.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZZtYs2VJFA
