Evolving Warrior

I am made of light. Literally.

The elements that compose the stars are the same ones that form every human body. Calcium, iron, and carbon are some of the many atomic configurations that produce 93% of our physical mass. These particles originated from a star and for us to be born, it had to die. In fact, every living creature and piece of matter around us came from the elements that once gave a star it’s glimmering light.

Griffith Park Observatory

Think of an experience on a starry night. The awe of its beauty can feel like there is a connection that exceeds the visual parameter alone. Maybe it is not a coincidence that the sight of a sunset has the ability to put minds at ease and hearts at peace. Perhaps, the light we emit is the same light we are drawn towards within each other.

How do you shine your light in this world? For a moment, imagine you dissolve the size of your body, the shape of your eyes, the color of your skin, and identify with the light you are made of. Feel the strength of its glow. The power of its impact. Are you happy with how strong you shine or do you find yourself not yet ablaze? Only you can decided the level of illumination required to fulfill your life. Only you can change it if you want more.
The choices I make affect how I present my light. I can keep it soft and dim by living with anger, frustration, or jealousy. Similar to a flickering bulb, this becomes exhausting to watch and eventually, empty of energy. If I am constantly rude or dishonest, I cannot expect kind or loyal people to surround me. I will inevitably attract the very thing that I put out. That is why I love making people smile for no reason, speak my mind in kind ways, forgive the most difficult moments, and have patience when I am being challenged. This is the light I want around me, and so, I must first be it myself.

"I'd think, maybe he truly is something extraordinary. He's what he is, that's it. Maybe that makes him strong enough, being what he is."

- Ken Kesey, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

My face is drizzled with freckles, one of my dimples can probably hold a tablespoon of water, and my body has held on to some unalluring scars. I usually make decisions on what feels right in my heart versus what sounds more logical. I have been a nerd my whole life and the symptoms of this have only become worse with age. The size of my closet is humble and heavily dominated by fitness attire. I love dancing, and on the rare occasion, it has occurred solely to the music in my head. I prefer to spend hours hiking to a waterfall than going to a fancy dinner. I have not traveled outside of the country much yet, but I am convinced that by the end of my life, I will have traveled most of the world. I have the wildest goals and dreams, and I plan on attaining every single one of them. This is who I am.
People don't always agree with who I am, but that is the magnificance of being unique. Individual differences are what so beautifully diversify this world and make it fascinating. I have met many "mathematicians" that point out the odds of what I'm choosing to do and the heavy weight that comes with it. To these people, I nod in silence; not in agreement but out of respect and gratitude. Without them, I would have no one to astonish with miraculous anomalies. My current speciality-in-development would cause a mathematicians mind to explode: removing limits.
Most of the limits we have are often placed by ourselves. Being geniune to who you are might have the side effect of erasing some of those limits. "Coming of out the closet" doesn't have to apply to sexual orientation only. Let me tell you, some of the shit I pulled out of my closet, I had no idea I had to begin with. It turns out, I love the person I am. The more you open yourself up to your personal truth, the more you discover about yourself. Being authentic means having the courage to show your true self; all of it, to everyone, especially to those that don't agree with it. True freedom comes when you can fearlessly face the world with all that you ARE. The judgments that stroll by lose their significance. Chances are, the ones passing those judgments still have a full closet to unpack.
This is your unique life. The amount of time you and I have here is uncertain. If you can maximize living in a way that is truest to you, you will consequentially increase the quality of your life. Fear and insecurity will challenge you but if you are prepared to face them, they have no chance in succeeding. When you get to that moment of going against the odds, of taking a different route than the rest, of speaking your mind even though it sets you apart from others, you just might hit a place of happiness that you didn't know could exist. A place you never want to turn back from once you arrive. Then maybe, just maybe, you will look back one of these days with a smile and say "My life was awesome."

Everybody in class is lying down. We are on our backs with legs and arms set out comfortably. Eyes are gently shut, hearts have softened their beats, minds are silencing, and muscles are melting into the familiar feeling of our yoga mats. This is Savasana.

Savasana (also spelled shavasana) is considered the most important pose in yoga. All the hard work put in throughout the entire class is deliciously absorbed by the body during this time of peaceful decompression. It is a form of Yoga Nidra, a deep sleep-like relaxation that is combined with awareness.

Yoga has become increasingly studied in the scientific world for it’s benefits. Savasana, in particular, has sparked interest on its own. In one study, three resting postures were compared: savasana, resting in a chair, and supine pose. Savasana was found to reduce the effects of stress in a significantly shorter amount of time compared to the other two poses. Another study found it to be positively correlated to cardiovascular health during exercise. Walter Reed Army Medical Center uses various types of Yoga Nidra as effective treatment for PTSD. They call this program iRest and have integrated its protocol into weekly treatments in VA facilities located in eight different states. Researchers at Walter Reed founded Warriors At Ease, a yoga and meditation teacher training program specifically designed for teaching military communities. The number of studies supporting the benefits of yoga are abundant and scientists continually produce more research with congruent findings each year.

Personally, savasana is the reason I practice yoga. Every challenging moment of class makes me look forward to that final release. The active practice of letting go completely and submitting to a moment that is purely and entirely mine. Sometimes I fall into the sweetest dreams, while other times my mind is so silent that I become unsure if I’m still connected to my physical body. It is bliss at its finest, love at its truest, and happiness in its most organic form. The rest of my day following time spent in savasana is never short of extraordinary.

Najah means “success” in arabic. She grew up in Al Bennay, a small village in the mountains of Lebanon. She is the second oldest of ten children. Her father couldn’t bare the way they treated children in schools those days- getting hit when they misbehaved and such. He refused to allow anyone to lay a finger on his children. She was pulled out of school in third grade and was homeschooled to a fifth grade level.

The Lebanese Civil War began in 1975 when Najah was fifteen. Most children were stripped of education by then.

We woke up one morning and the Israeli army was everywhere. We watched helicopters drop off soldiers from the air. It was a secret plan they had. Everyone was shocked. They had a tank parked in our driveway. They were shooting people right from our driveway; but they didn’t hurt us. They protected the Druze, they shot at the Palestinians.

Her uncle trained her and all the older siblings on how to shoot a gun. They practiced firing with hand guns but they were also trained with machine guns. Najah never had to fire a gun at anyone, but a few years later, her brother almost did…almost.

The worst year of the war for Najah and her family was 1983-1984. Her newborn baby sister (the youngest of the ten) was crying one morning as she recalls:

The phones and electricity was cut off. We didn’t know there was anything going on. A Druze political leader came by our house and begged my father to leave Al Bennay immediately. We didn’t know how bad it was and that we were the only ones left in the village.

They only had one car that worked and about 35- 40 family members in total.

“How did you all fit in the car?”

“We sat like pickles.”

The Buick made two trips down to the next village to relocate everyone to a basement. Scratches marked the street of the trail left by the car as it dragged down the road. Weight limits did not apply. Nothing normal applied anymore.

When they all arrived at the basement, other families were shocked they were alive. The road their car was dragging down was filled with explosives. To this day, it is still a mystery why those bombs never went off.

We were very scared, living from minute to minute. We had no idea if we were going to make it. My uncle came running in and told us we have to leave right now. The Christian militia was one town away stabbing men to death and raping the women before they killed them. We didn’t know if it was better to leave or stay hiding. I didn’t know this at the time but my father told my brother and his friend “if militia come through those doors, I want you to shoot all your siblings and then yourself.” He wasn’t going to let us get tortured.

Those doors never opened and they were able to leave safely. The youngest children and the elderly rode in the car. Najah and the rest of the older children walked through globs of thick mud on a rainy day in slippers to get to the next village.

You couldn’t see where the street began. There was dead people everywhere. In the car, you just had to drive around them.

They spent months relocating to various homes. Some belonged to family members, some were complete strangers. As soon as they heard planes shooting, they knew they had about five minutes to leave if they wanted to survive.

No one could sleep. Maybe five minutes here and there. It sounded like the planes were going to come through the walls.

One day they got word of a village, Aghmeed, that had been virtually untouched by the war. They set out to relocate once again. When they arrived they found the rumors were true; it was a village miraculously left unscathed.

I remember I saw a woman walking down the street by herself with a purse on. I stared at her. I couldn’t believe I was still in Lebanon. I was shocked how life was so normal here. We didn’t know what was normal anymore.

The war ended two months later. Aghmeed was the village that led her to her husband; a Lebanese native that lived in America. They got married after a month of meeting. Their wedding was the first wedding in Lebanon after the war. She moved to California with her husband immediately following the wedding.

It was like a movie. You wake up and people are on the streets speaking english. I only knew arabic. The food was different. I lost my appetite for two years. I lost a lot of weight but I didn't think about myself. I couldn't contact my family; they didn't have phones back yet. I was so worried about them.

Najah had her first born daughter two years later. She is now a mother of three and a grandmother of one. For as long as I’ve known her, she has always been driven to learn. Reading books has helped remedy her lack of education but she still held a desire for more. She signed up for various courses to take at adult schools and local colleges but she was always limited to certain classes because she didn't have a high school degree. She decided to go to school part time to work towards one. This last December, at 53 years old she received her GED certification that gave her the equivalent of a high school degree.

I would like to do what I want to do. I wanted to have a choice on what to do for work. Every time I filled out a job application I hated that I couldn’t put anything in the education section. Now, I get to fill it out. It feels so good. I don’t know exactly what I want to do but at least if you START with somethings it leads you to something else.

Najah has by far been the most inspirational woman in my life. I have never met a more loving and selfless human being. Her life began with a huge disadvantage, but the chapters that she creates today have evolved greatly from the chapters from which she started. George Eliot wrote, “It is never to late to be what you might have been.” Najah is a living example of that. She lives nothing short of the meaning of her name. I have never called her Najah though; for me, she has only gone by Mom.

The exact date of this photo is uncertain but the estimates I received was somewhere between 1970-1975. My mom is the tallest girl with long hair. This photo is a true gem because it is one of very few that remain to give me a glimpse into my mothers childhood.