I sometimes get wierd reactions when I mention that we fast for the month of Ramadan. Actually, I have been continually suprised by how many people actually know about it beforehand, and most of the good friends and family in my life are very accepting and even encouraging - even when it's not a part of their own lives. But still a lot of people assume that it must be incredibly difficult, torture, or unhealthy at the very least. I don't often get a chance to explain why it's not any of these things, thanks in no small part to my own incredible discomfort discussing religion in public, but I'll give it a shot.
Ramadan is actually one of my favorite times of year. It's like a big de-cluttering project except instead of cleaning out a closet, you're making much bigger "Toss, Keep or Donate" decisions. The nighttime - when you have to fit in a day's worth of eating, hours and hours of extra prayers, and oh yeah - sleeping and spending time with your family - are pretty slim. We only have about eight hours for that these days. It makes you seriously prioritize in a way that you're usually not able to the rest of the year.
Maybe most of the year you think "Oh, I should really go to the mosque more often." But you can never find the time, even for this thing that's really important to you. Then Ramadan rolls around and you're suddenly able to find the time. Maybe you get bogged down sometimes, visiting friends your don't like all that much or reading crap on the internet you're not even all that interested in. (uh...hypothetically speaking, of course...) The great big life cleanup that is the month of Ramadan helps you focus all that energy into something that is more important to you - perhaps the most important thing to you - your spirutal life. It can feel very cleansing and carthatic, like riding a wave back to a place where you know all things operate better from. You become a better organized person, a better friend, spouse, employee - even during the day.
The day is also good. Sure, you're hungry. It is difficult, it's meant to be. It started out really hard, but you get to used to it after some time. But then a day will come where the second you wake up to start your day your mouth feels glued shut and all you can think about for the next 12 hours is a cool glass of water. Or my poor Mian, who will still have to mow the lawn for almost two hours in the heat and amond all that dust and stirred up grass clippings, all without a drink of water. Because even though you're hungry, even though you can't drink anything, you still have to go about your daily life. (Well, that's not actually true in many countries where the whole place seems to shut down during the fasting hours, but here in America you still have to go to work if you want to be able to afford the ingredients to make pakoras.) Being hungry and thirsty all day can teach you a lot of things, not the least of which is how terrible it is that plenty of people the world over have this kind of hunger and thirst and thankfulness for even then simplest of things - that first sip of water. I'm just doing it because I WANT to, but I still, all day long, still have access to clean water and plenty of food.
It's nice, is all I'm saying. And it's not unhealthy. Most people go 12-14 hours all night without food while they're sleeping at night and we're just doing the opposite and cramming all the same amount of food and drink (and sometimes more!) into the night hours. And of course, if you have some good reason you can't fast then there's no problem forgoing it. It's just between God and you, afterall. And if my husband passed out or has some other medical difficulty after mowing the grass you can bet I'll be the first person trying to help him out and force him to drink a glass of water. It's not about depriving yourself at all costs, it's just about trying to do what we believe is a religous requirement and reaping all the benefits from it, those that we can see and those we might not even understand.
It really is one of my favorite times of year. Some years are been better as far as spiritual upliftment (if that even a word?) and some are more like going through the motions, but even when that happens it tells me that I needto focus my efforts in some aspect of my life. Ramadan is like a diagnostic tool - taking my personal engine to the mechanic to make sure everything's the way it's supposed to be. Making sure everything's in good working order for the journey ahead.
