Curmudgeon.
At this moment, you may be envisioning an elderly man akin to the father character on Ray Romano's Everybody Loves Raymond - a bald gentleman who is, well, anything but a gentleman. If you're not familiar with the pop culture reference, just check out a rerun on TV Land, and it won't be too long before you experience the irritability, grumpy demeanor, and cynical remarks for which this character is famous.
When the Cookie Monster goes absolutely crazy for goodies packed with chocolate chips, it's endearing. But in the real world, how many of us appear silly and thoroughly hug-able when we're experiencing cravings and the pangs of hunger? I may share a sweet tooth with the Cookie Monster, but that's where the similarities end. When I am hungry and become tired and weak, you may actually think you've been transported back to 1999 and placed on the Raymond set. I could very well be that curmudgeonly character, albeit decades younger and sporting a hijab, or, to put things on a level playing field with Sesame Street, a (slightly) taller version of Grumpy from Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
Okay, this is bit of an exaggeration, but the truth remains that many of us find ourselves negatively affected when food is out of reach and hunger prevails. This is particularly the case when it is unplanned and inconvenient, as such situations typically are.
So what happens when one does not eat for a long period of time both willingly and with a purpose?
This is an idea I've pondered time and time again as a Muslim fasting during Ramadan. We've all been exposed to the "anything is possible if you put your mind to it" mantra, but can mindset really override biology? Can thoughts and intentions be just as influential and evocative as our basic physiological responses?
It's not that simple, of course. There are few things in life that are starkly black and white; usually, nuances and shades of gray are the soup du jour. Humans are fallible, so even the most devout Muslim with the purest of intentions will experience an occasional misstep during Ramadan. Bottom line: Nobody endures 30 days of intense fasting without a single bout of frustration, a single eye-rolling reaction due to the incredibly slow driver one car ahead, or a single ungrateful remark made toward his or her parents.
Despite this reality, I've come to understand the essential role played by mindset in determining Grumpy versus the Cookie Monster.
When I fast for Ramadan, I wake up each morning before the sun rises and intend to make a sacrifice that day for the sake of God. I consume a meal, known as sahoor (also spelled suhoor), which for me often consists of cereal, hydrating fruits, dairy products, and several glasses of water. As dawn arrives and the first glow peaks above the horizon, it's time to make ablution and perform the first prayer of the day. With that, a long and challenging fast has begun and will last until the sun nestles below the horizon in preparation for her nighttime slumber.
You may wonder what all of this has to do with alleviating the negative characteristics and behaviors associated with hunger and other trials. An anecdote might be helpful: On the first day of Ramadan this year, I was unable to fast. (As I mentioned in my previous post, there are certain conditions under which one does not participate in fasting and then makes up the missed fast(s) at a later date.) When the second day arrived, however, I was in the proper state to fast and thus began my journey through Ramadan.
When I hadn't fasted that first day, I had struggled in small but meaningful ways. I would feel myself become agitated when several things weren't working out as planned, and I was annoyed that I had not slept well the night before. In contrast, the second day, though tough because of the physical adjustment to fasting, brought many improvements. And on day three, I actually experienced a strong sense of peace and ease, despite getting less sleep than I normally do and functioning only on the food and water from that morning's sahoor at 4 AM. I prayed, read Qur'an, practiced tajweed (the art of reciting the Qur'an properly), completed household chores, decorated my bedroom, and had fun and energy in the process. I was certainly aware of my hunger and thirst, but I came out as the victor over fatigue and irritability. I told myself that what I was doing was important and reminded myself of the constant blessings God grants me. When something bothered me, I fought the urge to react negatively and pushed forward. The day seemed to progress more quickly and easily than others. At the same time, I also felt I had been very productive with how I had used my hours.
Though a simple story, these words illustrate the impact of the mind. There are so many ways in which we are tested in our lives. I'll be the first to admit that, despite my great academic achievements, I've often fallen short when it comes to life's tests. But then I remind myself of the passion and effort I've invested in my schoolwork over the years. I didn't succeed with my eyes closed, asleep on a desk. I cultivated natural gifts God had given me and worked, and worked, and worked some more. Without motivation, organization, and time management, I wouldn't have accomplished important goals.
With life, it's the same. Without motivation and the cultivation of patience and self-reflection, how would we become better people and reach goals related to our character, our spirituality, and our well-being? For me, Ramadan is the annual training session that demonstrates just how important mindset and attitude can be in overcoming everyday challenges that otherwise leave us bitter, frustrated, and dare I say it, curmudgeonly.
Sure, I crave the occasional cookie during Ramadan. I feel the hunger pangs and catch myself checking the clock so that I can start the daily countdown until sunset. But I crave peace and contentment more than anything, and I crave to be a better person...
With that in mind, one could conquer anything.
