Post-Ramadan Blues

It is said that the early generations of Muslims and the companions of the Prophet themselves mourned the passing of Ramadan for six months, and the rest of the year they anticipated its coming. Interesting thing to know. There is something amiss when the month passes. And it’s more than the chaos associated with the moon-sighting drama and multiple-choice Eids and the strutting of those who think they got it right, especially those who make their Eid plans according to the verdicts of the blissful Near East. No, there’s more to it than that. Like right now, I simply don’t want to read any late articles about Ramadan that have trickled to me via email, even if the article is written by an author I follow with eagerness, like this article in Q-News which you have to scroll down to click on the pdf link. Demons unchained and the loss of baraka-moments (graces in time), like the pre-dawn snack: yes that could be it. But I’m not sure if it’s the whole story behind our spirits pulled earthward. Well, there's something I've either read or heard, something about how to carry Ramadan along. Take something that you started in the month and simply keep doing it for the rest of the year, some devotion or extra rite or special reading. Scale it down, if you have to. I thought of one thing to do (my secret), and when I do it, the fragrance of Month Nine miraculously whiffs through the room. No, I’m not a mystic, and, yes, I’m hemp-free. Can’t explain it. So happy Eid, but also happy Ramadan. Back to my harmonica.