Living Behind the Veil

I'm often asked what I wear in Afghanistan and what it's like to wear a veil. It's freedom. Freedom to have a bad hair day, freedom to arrange my chadar to conceal the curve of my breasts and backside, freedom to not be an expatriate for a little while. It means freedom to hide even on the street from the Afghan men's eyes which seem to strip me naked.
When I relax my shoulders and walk less purposefully, less confidently, my eyes downcast and covered by sunglasses, I pass for an Afghan woman. I hear the men whisper in Dari, "Is she a foreigner or local woman?" I chuckle but am silent. On the street, I'm also a free target....freely exposed to groping, sexual innuendos whispered to me as a man bicycles by, free to have stones thrown at me, freely seen as no one's wife, daughter, sister, mother, friend, or boss. I step inside my gate, and remove my chapan and chadar. Now I'm someone's boss, motherhood returns to me as little steps run to greet me, and I receive a kiss from my adoring husband. Now I'm free to his loving and gentle eyes which know and enjoy my curves, free to once again be under the protective umbrella of being a wife, mother, friend, colleague, boss, niece, sister, daughter, woman.

Thursday, January 25, 2018

Humility Part 4 of 4

The fourth part of a confessional from a Russian brother writing in the 1800's. All four parts available in a Word document here.

4. I am full of pride and sensual self love.

All my actions confirm this. Seeing something good in myself, I want to bring it into view, or to pride myself upon it before other people or inwardly to admire myself for it. Although I display an outward humility, yet I ascribe it all to my own strength and regard myself as superior to others, or at least no worse than they.

If I notice a fault in myself, I try to excuse it; I cover it up by saying, “I am made like that” or “I am not to blame.” I get angry with those who do not treat me with respect and consider them unable to appreciate the value of people. I brag about my gifts: my failures in any undertaking I regard as a personal insult. I murmur, and I find pleasure in the unhappiness of my enemies.

If I strive after anything good, it is for the purpose of winning praise, or spiritual self-indulgence, or earthly consolation. In a word, I continually make an idol of myself and render it uninterrupted service, seeking in all things the pleasures of the senses and nourishment for my sensual passions and lusts. Going over all this I see myself as proud, adulterous, unbelieving, without love for God and hating my neighbor.

What state could be more sinful?

The condition of the spirits of darkness is better than mine. They, although they do not love God, hate men, and live upon pride, yet at least believe and tremble. But I? Can there be a doom more terrible than that which faces me, and what sentence of punishment will be more severe than that upon the careless and foolish life that I recognize in myself?

The cause of not loving God is want of belief, 
want of belief is caused by lack of conviction, 
and the cause of that is failure to seek for holy and true knowledge, 
indifference to the light of the Spirit. 

If you don’t believe, you can’t love; 
if you are not convinced, 
you can’t believe, 
and in order to reach conviction you must get a full and exact knowledge of the matter before you. 

By meditation, by the study of God’s Word, and by noting your experience, you must arouse in your soul a thirst and a longing – a wonder, which brings insatiable desire to know things more fully. 

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