February was rough at so many levels. In fact, January was anti-climatic as I had spent the end and start of the year working relentlessly. Other people including my mother was so concerned as I had been sick too often and had not much appetite to eat as I used to. I had forgotten what it’s like to be human again.
I’ve been wanting to sit and write but either too lazy or too tired to do so. Lazy in a sense that I needed a break. But unlike I had been before, I’ve become less bitter. No, seriously. As I am writing now, I am not even upset by how hard I had worked. But of course, at some point, my body started giving me signals because I had been emotionally stable.
Somehow, tonight, my limbs so-called redirected me to login to Facebook and checked my activity log from the moment I had started using it. Actually, you know the constant notification on memories in Facebook? Yeah, that was the trigger that took me down the memory lane. For the most part, I cringed so hard because I’ve forgotten who I was back then. It’s like we are two separate people… which means, I’ve grown up (I guess that’s good)
Then, came a year when I actually started posting something a lot more serious and… Islamic. It was my first year in Uni when I was just starting and had no idea what to expect. Naive. Thinking that I knew what I was doing. But for the most part of the memory, I feel like hugging the younger Syaza because she was so lost and was still searching. Identity crisis, as they call it.
But looking back to my old days was—other than the cringe part—refreshing. I am telling you this story because I’ve realised a number of things.
Sometimes, when we’re so caught up with growing and our goals, and ended up burning ourselves up, we’d forget about how far we’ve come. How we’ve dealt with so many struggles, failures and hardships in which at that time we weren’t even sure if we would ever get out of the situation. But we did. With all the courage and strength that Allah had instilled in us.
We also kept rolling in the same kind of problems because we had not understood what, perhaps Allah is trying to teach us. But as you age—with experience and wisdom—you can digest the reasons behind your struggles nore maturely. No longer would you wail and complain “Why is this happening to me?”. And because you’ve gone through so much, the scale of your struggles become a lot more challenging but you’ve managed to still say “Alhamdulillah”.
Looking back at myself back then and compared to now, I am grateful for the knowledge and gifts that Allah had given to me. I am grateful I never gave up. You should, too.
The other thing that I’ve learned was that sometimes, you need to go through a “reset sprint” in which you need to go just reset and re-establish your routine after “sprinting” through a project or work, because this constant sprinting actually burns you out, without you realising or not. And that’s what had happened to me for the past two months.
So, as this post is about reconnecting and resetting, I thought it’s also a perfect time to announce that I think it’s about time for me to take my writing game more consistently as consistency is my mantra this year. No matter how crappy or flawed my piece will be.
I am tired of the spikes of success followed by empty promises. But this is also an opportunity for me to take my writing to another level (if that makes sense) and truly commit to my goals. It’s now or never.
I don’t know what goes from here but I’ll take this one step at a time and refocus on what matters, not for myself but for people who have been following my journey as a writer (phew! that took a long time to be comfortable with that statement).
To those people whom have been reading whatever I’ve posted here or elsewhere, I am grateful to you. To the things that I’ve received in DMs and what-nots. I’ve realised that this is no longer about me but how my pieces of writing is able to serve those around me.
It’s a scary thing but it’s now or never.