The great thing about being an atheist is that I can never be accused of cherry-picking which religious beliefs and practices I adhere to. With no pesky explaining to do, I can pluck the concepts that suit me from all the different trees and build my own personal, deity free doctrine.
It is with this notion in mind that I feel perfectly comfortable using the Islamic call to prayer for my own purposes, with modifications that fit my lifestyle.
Last night I looked up prayer times for my part of the world, and planned to begin my moments of reflection this morning. The first time was 6:04 p.m., six minutes before the alarm chirped the once soothing, now startling, sound of crickets.
The problem is, at 6:04 a.m., I have a foggy mind and little to pause on, as I’ve pretty much been pausing all night. So, I decided to move it to half past the hour and make this a time to set my intentions for the day. A warm, mushy bed is an ideal place to feel gratitude for my blessings and to form (or sometimes hew with an axe) a positive outlook.
Looking ahead, I knew the next time, 1:47 p.m., would probably be a little late. A couple of weeks ago, my day took a most indelicate tumble at exactly 10:36 a.m., so, bearing that in mind, I inserted one in-between at 10:15 a.m.
I adjusted the remaining times to 5:15 p.m. (ideally, I’ll be in mid-commute and, not so ideally, I’ll need to decompress); 7:45 p.m. (after, ideally, I’ve eaten a well-prepared meal that honors my body as well as the life forms that gave themselves up for it); and 10:15 (ideally again being the operative word, as I am preparing to achieve eight contiguous hours of sleep).
I have two more remaining for today and... Oh. Oops. I see that I’ve created six speculative moments. But since I don’t see one that I want to delete, I will stick with them for now. These are my rules, after all.
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