This Ramadan, I pray for enemies

Ramadan came. So far, many Americans know basics. It is the holy month during which healthy Muslims must not eat and drink [Neither water? No, no water... and no sex from sunrise until sunset... and dedicate themselves in prayer, charity, and spiritual discipline.

In recent years, Ramadan, the ninth month of the Muslim lunar calendar, has become part of the majority of American society. It is constantly cited in the hip-hop and even in the epic presentation of Eminem against President Trump in the EUT Awards. Maintaining tradition initiated by Thomas Jefferson, presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama called leaders of the Muslim community [S. Trump removed that beautiful encounter. It's no surprise considering the statement saying that Islam hates us. ”]

The sacred month is now also associated with the most sacred American tradition of consumerism: Party City has announced a series of decorations for Ramadan.

But I want more. In this Ramadan, I'm going to look for something more permanent that cleanses my soul and that really transforms America, which is hurt, in suffering from the re-open expressions of hatred against racial and religious minorities. I know that solving the problem begins at home, so this month, I aspire to become a superhero on overweight, middle age, disciplined and attentive, grateful for my privileges, conscious and compassionate. I'm gonna try to pray for enemies, friends, friends to make the fight, and Canye West.

I must, however, make a confession [hope that the Catholic priests who taught me in high school would approve of it]: I often remain angry, frenzied, and pursued my two young ones. It's incredibly tiresome. As I do every year, I find myself reflecting: “You know, Buddhism looks pretty good. It worked pretty good for the Beastie Boys. ”

Yes, eternal hunger can improve your health, but there is a famous saying that you can wish all month of Ramadan only by ending up with nothing but empty stomach and thirst. After all, even if you do not eat or drink, it is hard to focus on spiritism when so many things in the world steal our attention: Will the Supreme Court decide the ban on travel to Muslims that separates millions from their families? Will Donald Trump start a morning war?

And yet, taking a part of what Melanie Trump said about children, I remain convinced that this Ramadan will help Americans of all religions to be the best”: We can get out of this time as the best versions of ourselves.

The Arabic root word Ramazan means “burned.” This month interrupts your routine, comfort, and thinking. Hunger, thirst, a desire for sex, is more occupied with family and community members who would avoid them.

This interruption brings pain and discomfort, but they can also create opportunities to mature. I welcome these criticisms as an invitation to expand our community and the capacity for generation.

Try It's the key word here. Our daily moments do not stop during Ramadan.

A few weeks ago, I was driving to the University of William & Mary to give a speech about Ramadan for a group of Muslim students and for their Muslim friends and friends who were being hungry in solidarity to receive funds for Rohingaya refugees. My car tire exploded on the highway before the exit. I stopped to change it, but my skills failed to leave me depressed.

I tried to signal the cars to stop. In 35 minutes, no one stopped. With the battery-free phone on my hands, I was just standing there, you asshole, begging for someone to help me. Finally, a young colored driver who turned out to be a transgiar student working for his doctorate stopped. The student told me not to thank him, “If it happened to me, I'd like someone to do the same. ” he said.

I said no one did it but you.

There was another reason I stopped, my savior told me: “I saw a colored person and, this way, we have to help each other. ”

After I picked up the phone to call him a truck, we started talking about his life as a transgilary person in camp with me who confessed my nervousness to the use of correct names and received more credit than I deserved for that.

We stopped when a seemingly aggressive white man arrived laughing to change my tire. He was worried if I knew the best seats there to eat dinner.

My little crisis had enabled me to form a small, temporary, multicultural community. I can find the spirit of Ramadan not only in hunger or prayer but also in such places.

I had been so stressed about my trip and my professional obligations that I had forgotten the true spirit of Ramadan. But right now they separated the street and reminded me of what this month was about. I do not need any words from the prophets or the verses of the Qur'an to make clear to you. I just repeat what the kindhearted student said to me: “And maybe that's how big America is.

Translated from The New York Times, Periscope. com