You know what kind of thing you would regret the most?
For me, it is the state of being unable to make bond with your Creator while you were right in His house.
For most of you who have been to Mecca, you must cried the first time you see the Ka’bah. But for some unknown reasons, it didn’t happen to me.
My mind goes blank for a moment
Just because i didn’t cry, doesn’t mean i got no emotional feeling running inside my heart. I felt it, for real. It was hard to believe at first that finally i could see this Ka’bah from up close. That time, my mind just went blank and had no idea what to do. I just…stare, stare and stare until i realize i should get my self together to start the Umrah, beginning from tawaf, along with the group.
On my first day in Mecca, i keep wondering why everybody but me cried. I felt so bad and decided to move on. So i just made as many duas as possible, staring wholeheartedly at the Ka’bah (but still without tears), wished that Allah knew what was really inside my heart.
Regardless of what happened with my tear duct, i experienced a lot of great times which never make my self the same as before taking this trip.
And here goes some of my reflections during my precious wondeful Umrah trip with my family ~
You didn’t feel tired
Either waking up so early to join fajr prayer, walking distances between hotel and Al haram, tawaf in a daylight, or doing sa’i on the cold floor, not a single time i felt tired. For those of you who have been there, you know that there is such a distinctive energy that will make you feel like your body, mind, and soul are always energized. At first i thought it would be so tiring to do the tawaf in a daylight among the sea of humans. How can i endure it? I wondered. I was wrong! Tawaf in the daylight turned out to be less tired than in the night. It was amazing. I am kind of people who hate to be exposed to sunlight for too long but there, day is my favorite time and i don’t mind the sun at all.
Life is simple
My life has never been this satisfying since i visited the two blessed cities. You know, i used to think that graduating from reputable university, going for prestigious work, hitting the fancy gym to get in shape, hanging out after work with colleagues to be as social as possible, and all other worldly activities would bring me such satisfaction i utterly needed in life. It didn’t. In fact, i never felt satisified with the dunya (worldly life) regardless how well the situation is, because i couldn’t help but comparing my life to the other and acted as if i was in a competition with them. It was never enough. I kept wanting more and more and couldn’t live the present life to the fullest. It constantly consumed my spiritual soul and thus be soulless. What was worse is, i used to procrastinate the prayer until the last minute and always had a hard time waking up for fajr, even sometimes i missed it. I used to prioritize everything but Allah. Astagfirullah. How my life has gone so wrong. No wonder life turned to be so complicated, while in fact, it isn’t.
In Mecca and Madina, my life was no other than waiting for the prayer time, going to Masjid before the time comes, reading quran while waiting for the prayer, enjoying the soothing recitation of the imam while praying and drinking limitless zam zam after each prayer. Just that simple, but you would feel as if you were getting a little piece of heaven going on your life. Masha Allah.
I forgot that we should put worship first before the dunya. I forgot that the one who can satisfy me is only Allah. Put Allah first and everything will work out. Maybe not the way i wish to be, but just the way it meant to be. Now i know i should shift the focus of my life.
The missing soul
As i’m back home, my mind would not just move on from there. The first two weeks after leaving the Mecca, i didn’t feel completely present. My body is here but my mind is there. How i miss them so much and all the tranquility it gave me. Home is where the heart is. My heart is there, so is my home. The ultimate home of all muslims in the world.
Cry without tears
I cried in my room as i miss them. Felt so emotional, but shed just a little tears. It’s quite paradox. I am kind of losing the ability to produce tears as i grew older. People would call me heartless at this rate. But that’s not what i am like. For me now, crying isn’t always the same thing as shedding a tear. I hope that doesn’t make me sound heartless.
The next time Allah invites me back (may all dear muslim fellows get invited too), i wish, i really wish, i could shed a tear…