I absolutely love this. It’s so refreshing to read something like this in a culture that prioritises comfort and overprotects feelings. You’ve struck a nice balance between taking care of yourself and being there for others, even when it’s not convenient. Life isn’t convenient. It challenges us with struggles and obstacles, and if we want to grow, we must have the courage to step out of our comfort zones, face the struggles head-on, and when the time is right, pause to reflect on how much we’ve grown along the way.
This year, I’ve decided to say yes to leaving the job I worked so hard to get in an exchange for starting a family in a small village on the Mediterranean coast. I’m ready to let go of all the hard work I’ve invested because I trust the feeling in my heart that this is no longer what I want. I’m ready to trust my partner, myself, and my guts, and to build a future I can truly enjoy—even if it means earning less.
It’s painful to give up years of effort. It’s hard to leave behind friends and family. It's scary to leave the certainty and stability my job provides. But I won't know if it's worth it unless I do it.
It’s tough to face uncertainty, and this sounds like a big change. Maybe something that worked for you did so for a season, and now your needs and hopes for the future have changed. I hope the best for you with your move!
Thank you for bringing forth another profound topic. It touches on the often unspoken struggles and triumphs of balancing self-preservation with selflessness. Your words gently guide us toward deeper wisdom, reminding us of the complexity and significance behind each decision to say “yes” or “no.”
First, I must commend your husband’s work in Gaza and your role in supporting that decision. This is a remarkable example of stepping into discomfort for a higher purpose. Such acts, aligned with Allah’s teachings and the example of our Prophet (peace be upon him), embody the essence of purposeful living. In this context, late President Jimmy Carter’s words also come to mind. He had said, “I have learned that our greatest blessings come when we are able to improve the lives of others, and this is especially true when those others are desperately poor or in need.”
Setting limits and embracing discomfort are, as you noted, deeply intertwined. While saying “no” is a necessary boundary in a world rife with overextension, there is also a divine inspired courage in saying “yes.” For Muslims, this courage is rooted in the compass of Allah’s command to worship Him, viewing every action, relationship, and sacrifice as an act of devotion. With this perspective, stepping out of our comfort zone becomes less a chore and more a calling - one that lifts us beyond the ordinary.
I am reminded of the Quranic verse you alluded to, where Allah assures us in Surah Al-Baqarah that He does not burden a soul beyond its capacity. Yet, what is truly miraculous is how, through the trials we endure and the sacrifices we make for others, our capacity grows. It is in these moments of discomfort - those acts of saying “yes” when it would have been easier to say “no” - that we discover our own potential. With every act of service, we align ourselves with the divine promise that capacity is not fixed but ever-expanding through faith and perseverance.
The beauty of relationships as I see it lies in the same principle. Agreeableness, as you thoughtfully explored, is not mere compliance but an act of understanding, empathy, and generosity - qualities that strengthen bonds with family, friends, and even strangers. The Prophet’s (peace be upon him) teaching that “the believers are like a single body” reminds us that personal discomfort often fades in light of the greater good we bring to our community. When one part aches, the whole body feels it, urging us to actively seek the well-being of others.
In my view, this spirit of agreeableness does not diminish our sense of self but rather elevates it. Saying “yes,” even when inconvenient, reflects a heart attuned to the divine balance of justice and mercy. Whether it’s mentoring a student, taking a friend to the airport, or supporting a spouse in their mission, each act of stretching ourselves is a step toward a life worth living - a life rooted in service to our Lord and to those around us.
Ultimately, your reflections remind us that the boundaries we set, whether to protect our peace or to extend ourselves for others, are not just arbitrary lines but tools for a meaningful existence. When anchored in the eternal wisdom of serving Allah and uplifting humanity, these choices become clearer. Saying “yes” and doing more, even when it challenges us, transforms discomfort into growth, inconvenience into blessing, and sacrifice into reward. It is, as you so beautifully described, the path to a fuller, richer life.
Thank you again for this thought-provoking piece, and may your journey into 2025 be filled with the wisdom to discern, the strength to stretch, and the grace to embrace both “yes” and “no” in their rightful places.
When I first read the title of this article, I thought I misread it. Because as you mention - the popular advice these days is on saying 'no' and I also believe that sometimes it creates a selfish and intolerant attitude.
What about giving, and caring for others, even if it costs us discomfort, but doing it for a greater reward!
I absolutely love this. It’s so refreshing to read something like this in a culture that prioritises comfort and overprotects feelings. You’ve struck a nice balance between taking care of yourself and being there for others, even when it’s not convenient. Life isn’t convenient. It challenges us with struggles and obstacles, and if we want to grow, we must have the courage to step out of our comfort zones, face the struggles head-on, and when the time is right, pause to reflect on how much we’ve grown along the way.
This year, I’ve decided to say yes to leaving the job I worked so hard to get in an exchange for starting a family in a small village on the Mediterranean coast. I’m ready to let go of all the hard work I’ve invested because I trust the feeling in my heart that this is no longer what I want. I’m ready to trust my partner, myself, and my guts, and to build a future I can truly enjoy—even if it means earning less.
It’s painful to give up years of effort. It’s hard to leave behind friends and family. It's scary to leave the certainty and stability my job provides. But I won't know if it's worth it unless I do it.
It’s tough to face uncertainty, and this sounds like a big change. Maybe something that worked for you did so for a season, and now your needs and hopes for the future have changed. I hope the best for you with your move!
Thank you! I hope saying yes brings up a lot of positive changes in your life.
Thank you for bringing forth another profound topic. It touches on the often unspoken struggles and triumphs of balancing self-preservation with selflessness. Your words gently guide us toward deeper wisdom, reminding us of the complexity and significance behind each decision to say “yes” or “no.”
First, I must commend your husband’s work in Gaza and your role in supporting that decision. This is a remarkable example of stepping into discomfort for a higher purpose. Such acts, aligned with Allah’s teachings and the example of our Prophet (peace be upon him), embody the essence of purposeful living. In this context, late President Jimmy Carter’s words also come to mind. He had said, “I have learned that our greatest blessings come when we are able to improve the lives of others, and this is especially true when those others are desperately poor or in need.”
Setting limits and embracing discomfort are, as you noted, deeply intertwined. While saying “no” is a necessary boundary in a world rife with overextension, there is also a divine inspired courage in saying “yes.” For Muslims, this courage is rooted in the compass of Allah’s command to worship Him, viewing every action, relationship, and sacrifice as an act of devotion. With this perspective, stepping out of our comfort zone becomes less a chore and more a calling - one that lifts us beyond the ordinary.
I am reminded of the Quranic verse you alluded to, where Allah assures us in Surah Al-Baqarah that He does not burden a soul beyond its capacity. Yet, what is truly miraculous is how, through the trials we endure and the sacrifices we make for others, our capacity grows. It is in these moments of discomfort - those acts of saying “yes” when it would have been easier to say “no” - that we discover our own potential. With every act of service, we align ourselves with the divine promise that capacity is not fixed but ever-expanding through faith and perseverance.
The beauty of relationships as I see it lies in the same principle. Agreeableness, as you thoughtfully explored, is not mere compliance but an act of understanding, empathy, and generosity - qualities that strengthen bonds with family, friends, and even strangers. The Prophet’s (peace be upon him) teaching that “the believers are like a single body” reminds us that personal discomfort often fades in light of the greater good we bring to our community. When one part aches, the whole body feels it, urging us to actively seek the well-being of others.
In my view, this spirit of agreeableness does not diminish our sense of self but rather elevates it. Saying “yes,” even when inconvenient, reflects a heart attuned to the divine balance of justice and mercy. Whether it’s mentoring a student, taking a friend to the airport, or supporting a spouse in their mission, each act of stretching ourselves is a step toward a life worth living - a life rooted in service to our Lord and to those around us.
Ultimately, your reflections remind us that the boundaries we set, whether to protect our peace or to extend ourselves for others, are not just arbitrary lines but tools for a meaningful existence. When anchored in the eternal wisdom of serving Allah and uplifting humanity, these choices become clearer. Saying “yes” and doing more, even when it challenges us, transforms discomfort into growth, inconvenience into blessing, and sacrifice into reward. It is, as you so beautifully described, the path to a fuller, richer life.
Thank you again for this thought-provoking piece, and may your journey into 2025 be filled with the wisdom to discern, the strength to stretch, and the grace to embrace both “yes” and “no” in their rightful places.
When I first read the title of this article, I thought I misread it. Because as you mention - the popular advice these days is on saying 'no' and I also believe that sometimes it creates a selfish and intolerant attitude.
What about giving, and caring for others, even if it costs us discomfort, but doing it for a greater reward!
Thank you for raising this important perspective.