Proud2BeHumble
Seek Truth, Be Happy
By Omar Abdul-Salaam
My sick alcoholic mind tells me, “Just go to the liquor store for a half-pint. But this time, I don’t go. As I sit on the sofa, head in my hands lost in my own internal struggle, it hits me like a “bolt of lightning”… READ THE QUR’AN!
February 1992…my wife and I are driving down Highway 80 (Northern California) heading back home to San Francisco after a weekend in Reno (a popular town in Northern Nevada for gambling casinos…little sister to Las Vegas) about a 5 hour drive from the bay area. I’m in a severely distressed state of mind as I have lost money which I cannot afford. More than the fact that I lost playing poker is an undeniable sense of despair about my life and where my destination seems to be heading.
For the past seven plus years, my free time has been occupied by heavy liquor consumption on a daily basis. A situation which obviously needs correcting, but given my theological philosophical point of view at the time, a day without drinking is not possible for me.
As we near San Francisco a heavy thunder storm begins to pound into us. This is the first time I’ve seen a full blown storm in the Bay Area replete with numerous lightning strikes which can be seen flashing all around the valleys to the east and the ocean to the west.
As suddenly as the storm hits, I am hit with a lightning bolt of undeniable realization…for me it’s over! My nights of drunken bitter meandering about the philosophical virtues of Jean Paul Satre , Nietzche and Dostoevesky have brought me to a place of dark anguish and existential hopelessness. This is why I drink, I tell myself. I am convinced that there is no point to birth, life or death beyond this present reality. I cannot see investing effort in something as obviously finite as the human life-span. I can’t beat it, so I might as well stumble about in a drunken stupor. So on this night, rolling down the highway amidst the thunder and lightning, I can sense for the first time “Enough is enough” . For you, it’s over.
The following day at work, I go through the motions as usual, but I know that something is terribly wrong. At my lunch break, I tell the boss that I am sick and head home. I’ve got to do something about this alcoholic condition. I read the phone book searching for a way out. I call a place in the Los Angeles area which offers a 30 day in-house treatment program. This sounds plausible to me. When my wife arrives home, I lay out the whole scenario to her and in her wise and wonderful way, she advises me to see what happens over the next two days.
The next morning I tell my boss the story, so my company insurance will cover the treatment program. I am embarrassed, but relieved that I am doing something about this problem. When I get home that evening, right on schedule my sick alcoholic mind tells me, “Just go to the liquor store for a half-pint…you can ease off gradually and this will calm you down.” But this time I don’t go. As I sit on the sofa, head in my hands lost in my own internal struggle, it hits me like a “bolt of lightning” READ THE QUR’AN!As is my usual way, I don’t analyze this impulse, I just do it! As I read Surah Fatihah, tears swell up in my eyes and Allah blesses me with the sweetest of miracles! I continue to read the sacred script for the next two hours until my wife returns from work.
A transformation was taking place inside of me. Shockingly, I proclaim to her that I have become a Muslim and have quit drinking!
For the next eight months, I read the Holy Qur’an on a daily basis. I read everything on Islam that I can find. I had the Holy Qur’an (English translation) at home because I had every other religious book that I knew of. I had read bits and pieces of it prior to Allah’s blessing me with the revelation, but I had also read the Bible, the Bhagavad Gita, numerous Zen texts, as well as all of the major Greek and existential philosophers available. It was not mere chance that I picked up the Qur’an that evening.
I had heard of people in life-and -death situations beg God to rescue them and they will follow whatever religion they are brought to. It seems that they invariably convert to Islam. This is the human being’s natural religion. As the Qur’an tells us, we are born Muslims…it is the parents that call us Jews or Christians.
After eight months of self-study and research, I called the Islamic Center of San Francisco and spoke to a brother by the name of Samy. He invited me to the Friday night program at the Islamic Center in the area. This was November 6, 1992. I drove to the mosque following Samy’s directions, and arrived at 6:00 p.m. even though the ‘program’ didn’t start until 8:00 p.m. I wanted to ‘look before I leap’. I was nervous, but Alhamdulillah, Allah guided me out of my car and up to the front door. I was greeted by two brothers named Mohammad Hamid and Abdul Rauf, two most knowledgeable and pious men who patiently instructed me in the requirements of the deen. When I shook their hands, I felt not only welcome, but that I had ‘come home’ after 37 years of searching. They taught me how to make proper wudu and led me in reciting the Shahada (the Muslim Declaration of Faith) which was the most significant moment of my life. After officially taking Shahada, I spent the last ten days of Ramadan doing the work of dawah. I can’t say that my struggle came to an end when I converted to Islam. I can say that one of the happiest moments of my life came when my father also said shahada. We must continually strive to improve and practice our faith. The devil is ever vigilant to our weaknesses.
(Source: Why We Embraced Islam, books 9 & 10. Edited by Dr. Arafat El-Ashi, Toronto, Canada).
My sick alcoholic mind tells me, “Just go to the liquor store for a half-pint. But this time, I don’t go. As I sit on the sofa, head in my hands lost in my own internal struggle, it hits me like a “bolt of lightning”… READ THE QUR’AN!
February 1992…my wife and I are driving down Highway 80 (Northern California) heading back home to San Francisco after a weekend in Reno (a popular town in Northern Nevada for gambling casinos…little sister to Las Vegas) about a 5 hour drive from the bay area. I’m in a severely distressed state of mind as I have lost money which I cannot afford. More than the fact that I lost playing poker is an undeniable sense of despair about my life and where my destination seems to be heading.
For the past seven plus years, my free time has been occupied by heavy liquor consumption on a daily basis. A situation which obviously needs correcting, but given my theological philosophical point of view at the time, a day without drinking is not possible for me.
As we near San Francisco a heavy thunder storm begins to pound into us. This is the first time I’ve seen a full blown storm in the Bay Area replete with numerous lightning strikes which can be seen flashing all around the valleys to the east and the ocean to the west.
As suddenly as the storm hits, I am hit with a lightning bolt of undeniable realization…for me it’s over! My nights of drunken bitter meandering about the philosophical virtues of Jean Paul Satre , Nietzche and Dostoevesky have brought me to a place of dark anguish and existential hopelessness. This is why I drink, I tell myself. I am convinced that there is no point to birth, life or death beyond this present reality. I cannot see investing effort in something as obviously finite as the human life-span. I can’t beat it, so I might as well stumble about in a drunken stupor. So on this night, rolling down the highway amidst the thunder and lightning, I can sense for the first time “Enough is enough” . For you, it’s over.
The following day at work, I go through the motions as usual, but I know that something is terribly wrong. At my lunch break, I tell the boss that I am sick and head home. I’ve got to do something about this alcoholic condition. I read the phone book searching for a way out. I call a place in the Los Angeles area which offers a 30 day in-house treatment program. This sounds plausible to me. When my wife arrives home, I lay out the whole scenario to her and in her wise and wonderful way, she advises me to see what happens over the next two days.
The next morning I tell my boss the story, so my company insurance will cover the treatment program. I am embarrassed, but relieved that I am doing something about this problem. When I get home that evening, right on schedule my sick alcoholic mind tells me, “Just go to the liquor store for a half-pint…you can ease off gradually and this will calm you down.” But this time I don’t go. As I sit on the sofa, head in my hands lost in my own internal struggle, it hits me like a “bolt of lightning” READ THE QUR’AN!As is my usual way, I don’t analyze this impulse, I just do it! As I read Surah Fatihah, tears swell up in my eyes and Allah blesses me with the sweetest of miracles! I continue to read the sacred script for the next two hours until my wife returns from work.
A transformation was taking place inside of me. Shockingly, I proclaim to her that I have become a Muslim and have quit drinking!
For the next eight months, I read the Holy Qur’an on a daily basis. I read everything on Islam that I can find. I had the Holy Qur’an (English translation) at home because I had every other religious book that I knew of. I had read bits and pieces of it prior to Allah’s blessing me with the revelation, but I had also read the Bible, the Bhagavad Gita, numerous Zen texts, as well as all of the major Greek and existential philosophers available. It was not mere chance that I picked up the Qur’an that evening.
I had heard of people in life-and -death situations beg God to rescue them and they will follow whatever religion they are brought to. It seems that they invariably convert to Islam. This is the human being’s natural religion. As the Qur’an tells us, we are born Muslims…it is the parents that call us Jews or Christians.
After eight months of self-study and research, I called the Islamic Center of San Francisco and spoke to a brother by the name of Samy. He invited me to the Friday night program at the Islamic Center in the area. This was November 6, 1992. I drove to the mosque following Samy’s directions, and arrived at 6:00 p.m. even though the ‘program’ didn’t start until 8:00 p.m. I wanted to ‘look before I leap’. I was nervous, but Alhamdulillah, Allah guided me out of my car and up to the front door. I was greeted by two brothers named Mohammad Hamid and Abdul Rauf, two most knowledgeable and pious men who patiently instructed me in the requirements of the deen. When I shook their hands, I felt not only welcome, but that I had ‘come home’ after 37 years of searching. They taught me how to make proper wudu and led me in reciting the Shahada (the Muslim Declaration of Faith) which was the most significant moment of my life. After officially taking Shahada, I spent the last ten days of Ramadan doing the work of dawah. I can’t say that my struggle came to an end when I converted to Islam. I can say that one of the happiest moments of my life came when my father also said shahada. We must continually strive to improve and practice our faith. The devil is ever vigilant to our weaknesses.
(Source: Why We Embraced Islam, books 9 & 10. Edited by Dr. Arafat El-Ashi, Toronto, Canada).
