I woke up this morning at the rather abrupt end to my dream cycle. I opened the curtains and noticed something from the distant past: a pale orange light just beginning to appear in the east, just beyond the small mosque, still lit up in garish florescent green- a color symbolic in Islam for paradise. I haven’t been up for the first light of the day in what has seemed months. I took advantage of this ephemeral window of opportunity, putting on my running clothes in the pale morning light. I ran through our mostly Emirati neighborhood to Corniche al Qurm, a highly manicured running path with Al Salaam St on one side, and a forest of black mangroves and a saltwater tidal lagoon on the other. Only a few others were up with me, white robes swishing past me as I ran in the opposite direction. From what I have noted, Arabs tend to stay out late with the whole family, coming out with the moon, not the blazing hot Arabian sun.
Sometimes it takes getting up a bit earlier than I’m used to reconnect; to realize that I am in my prime in the morning hours. Wide-eyed. Clear-headed. Or as close as I’ll likely get. One of my minor epiphanies on this morning mangrove run was that I am not using my extra time allotted me as a childless, part-time therapist living abroad to its fullest. I will be resuscitating a weekly blog, which has been in a coma for months now. The concept in short is to attempt to capture moments in life overseas. Literary snapshots. I have had numerous experiences traveling recently in Syria and Lebanon, Oman, and here in the UAE which reminded me how much I used to enjoy writing. There. It’s done. I’ve written it in cyberspace. Now I’m accountable to at least a couple family members or friends who may read this.
I will plan on updating this blog every Friday, the holy day of rest for Muslims, and therefore a day in which I am even more likely to encounter some free time. I hope you enjoy. If not, I will.
