Redefined is hosted by me, Zainab Salbi, and brought to you by FindCenter, a search engine for your soul. Part library, part temple: FindCenter presents a world of wisdom, organized. Check it out today www.findcenter.com. And please subscribe to Redefined for free on Apple Podcasts and Spotify.

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What’s most important about life? What is the essence of life? Is it what we do, how much we earn, how many social media followers we have? Or is it, do we live our lives in kindness to ourselves and to others? Do we live our lives in love to ourselves and to others? In nearly losing my life, I was confronted with these questions and it led me to the conversations that make up Redefined; about how we draw our inner maps and the pursuit of meaningful, personal change.

My guest this time is author, speaker, and Daily Beast columnist Wajahat Ali. Wajahat is one of the few people I’ve ever met who can make an audience laugh and cry in the span of just minutes. In his brilliant new memoir, Go Back to Where You Came From: And Other Helpful Recommendations on How to Become American, Wajahat explores his existence as a first-generation Muslim American with sharp wit and emotional honesty.

Coming up, we talk about finding God in the good and the bad, using language as liberation, the danger of clinging to anger, the importance of investing in joy, and what Wajahat is doing all the time to correct perceptions about Muslims in the West. Please join me.

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Well let me start by asking you the first question: who is your superhero and why?

Well, that’s a very good question. Who is my superhero and why? I would say right now it’d probably be two people. First and foremost, my wife ,because I married up—I did well—so my wife, Sarah, is a family health doctor and she’s one of these really annoying people who loves people and cares about them. It’s very gross being married to someone like this. Very empathetic, wants to help everyone. “Everyone has a story. People deserve a second chance.” It’s really gross. I highly recommend if you’re listening to not marry a woman like this, because you always have to be good, and then she makes you feel guilty for not being good. So Sarah, I married up. Really one of those types of special folks, that’s why everyone gravitates around her.

And then I would say for . . . I love all my kids equally, I do. There’s no favorites. Each one has their own spark, but because of my daughter and what she went through at a young age, right before the pandemic, she had stage four cancer. So, Nusayba had to get a full liver transplant. It’s very interesting that at both hospitals where she was at, Georgetown and Children’s Hospital, the staff is like, “This girl’s remarkable. She doesn’t complain. She doesn’t cry. We’re giving her the type of treatment that knocks out adults, and she just is a trooper.” They just remember her.

So, the fact that she went through it, she went through it so bravely, and she still has now emerged, as we say, Alhamdulillah, cancer-free, and now she’s super girly-girly wearing her Isabella dress with three costume changes a day. That’s really remarkable. People say, “You need to see miracles. Where is the miracle? God has to part the sea.” And I’m like, “Sometimes they’re right in front of us.” Sometimes they’re five-year-old girls just dancing around.

It’s so true. That it is so true. I also ask because when I was reading your book, Go Back to Where You Came From: And Other Helpful Recommendations on How to Become American, which I personally love and highly recommend for—

Thank you. Thank you.

—a joyful and thoughtful ride for whoever reads it. You actually talk about your daughter. Let’s talk about her, and I have so many questions about that, but I’m not going to ask about her cancer, which you just said and the triumph of that. But you talk about a Muslim superhero that you have created for her as she was talking, as she’s obsessed with Elsa—which my niece is obsessed with Elsa and she’s also a brown-skinned girl—you talk about Miss Marvel, a comic book stories about Pakistani American Muslim superheroes. So I’m curious, but I was personally obsessed actually, or very interested in your also other descriptions of superhero: Batman, Superman, your own imagination of being a superhero when you are a kid. The thing people don’t know about me, because I mean, I have more like a serious persona about myself, is I am so much into also these comics superheroes.

I did not know that, Zainab. If you had given me forty-five guesses, maybe on the fifty-eighth guess. Because you’re serious, you’ve traveled the world, you’re helping women—

Exactly. [laughs]

—human rights. And you’re like, “No, but Wonder Woman dropped this week. I have to go pick it up.”

I’m not into Wonder Woman too much, actually. I love Batman personally a lot.

Oh, me too.

Oh, yeah? Tell me why.

He’s one of my top threes. And I’m such a child that when I was at South by—we were both at South by Southwest, which was live for the first time in I think two years; there is this comic book shop there. So, I had a little bit of time off so I’m like, “Let me just go there.” And it’s this huge comic book shop in Austin. And I was like a kid. I’m like, “Oh, they don’t make these anymore. You won’t get them in New York.” And so, there’s no reason for me to buy any comics, but I’m like, “Ah, let me support it.” So I bought seven issues of this new Batman comic book series. So, just to let you know that I’m also a Batman fan.

And why, why Batman? You talk about when you were a child in your book, you actually invented a superhero character for yourself. Why Batman, and what is that superhero that you created for yourself, and why?

So the book is tongue-in-cheek, “Go back to where you came from,” and other “helpful” recommendations on how to become American. It’s about living in a country that doesn’t love you back. And oftentimes, no matter what country you’re in, what happens when you’re the outcast, you’re shy, in my case, you couldn’t speak English, you were fat, you wore husky pants? And so, if you aren’t telling your story, your story is always being told to you by others. And I think if you’re a woman or a person of color or an immigrant, this is true. You’re not in the textbooks. You’re not the hero ever in either the narrative of the country that you live in, in this case the United States of America, or sometimes you’re not even the hero in your own head.

Like you, I just loved comic books and they were great portal, not necessarily in escape, but I just love some of these stories. And I thought about this. I’m like, “Which are the comic books that I keep gravitating towards to and why?” So, I realized the characters that I really like, there’s several. I like Batman, I like Spider-Man, I like Daredevil a lot, and I keep reading those guys . . . Oh, Wolverine. And if you think about it, those guys in particular, Batman’s not a . . . He just wills himself, right? Spider-Man, it’s great to be Spider-Man, it’s terrible to be Peter Parker. He never has enough money for rent. He’s like me. He marries up, MJ, but there’s always, like, strife. He always gets beat up and he just takes on the world’s problem, but he has a cheer to himself. But he’s really just a young kid.

And then if you see Daredevil; Daredevil, same thing. He doesn’t have much power. He just suffers. Matt Murdoch’s a good guy who just, he’s always bruised and broken. His law firm never has enough money, but he just wills himself to do it. So I think like, “Hmm, why have I always attracted myself? Why are these people so attractive?” And I feel like that there’s something there where it can . . . I love Superman also, but Superman, he chooses to be kind even though he could be a God. He chooses to be humble, but he has all the powers.

These guys who I mentioned really don’t have that many powers, but they still will themselves to do the right thing. I feel like it humanizes them a bit. And it’s something that makes you think, even though if you and I dressed up as Batman and went out we’ll get shot and killed in like thirty-two seconds. For me, maybe twelve. For you, they’ll hear your voice, “Is that a woman?” Eighteen or so. Eighteen seconds.

And then for me with the superhero origin story, it wasn’t necessarily that I created my own superhero, it was just, “What is my superpower?” That’s what I always thought of. What is there something that I have, that could unlock something? And in the book, I mentioned that I discovered it at the age of ten when it came to storytelling. I wrote a story that I performed from my homeroom, and my teacher liked it so much. He gave me an A++++. And then she said, “Go read the story right now in front of the class.” I’m like, “Miss Peterson, please. I don’t want to do. I’m shy, I’m fat.” She goes, “Shut up, Fatty. Go read it.” She didn’t say that, but whatever. So she did say, “Go read the story.” And so, the same homeroom that used to mock me and make fun of me sat there for ten minutes and listened to my story, laughed at all the right parts, and that’s when I first discovered I might have something.

And you went with it. That’s the story also for me, that a lot of people do feel that they have maybe some superpower, but they diminish it and they’re afraid of it and they doubt it, and they’re shy about it. I mean, what’s inspiring about reading your story and hearing it right now is you went for it. You kept on going for it.

I’ve got to tell you why I like Batman, because I worked on my therapy. I worked on his character in my therapy for many years, right? It’s because he’s someone who face injustices himself. His parents were killed, all of that. And from the shadow of his life, from that pain of his life, and he looks into his own shadow. His anger, his rage, his all of that. From that he fight the dark side, right? The Joker. It’s from his shadow, he fights the shadow of the other and bring light in there. I worked on Batman as a character in my life as in, “What is my shadow, and how do I bring light not only in myself, but also bring light to whatever shadow I’m working on in the world like Batman?”

He’s a troubling character also in the way that he’s deeply traumatized. He can’t necessarily get over the trauma. He’s broken as a child, in many ways. He’s fundamentally a broken person, and he’s a billionaire who decides to use his wealth and his time in this manner. Also now they’ve expanded the comics where he does philanthropy, but he’s part and parcel of a system that oppresses many, but then he tries to dismantle some of that oppression and face injustice, but with still holding onto a deep moral code, which is very difficult. While dressing up as a bat. [laughs]

Exactly. [laughs]

And Alfred who’s his help is like, “You’re just this young boy who needs a hug and his parents.” And I think Alfred, the butler, realizes this man is very close to breaking at all times. And so, he does his best to try to just keep him together, and it’s interesting. I did a deep tafsir, as they said in Arabic, a deep interpretation of Batman, but he’s a very interesting character. He’s broken, he’s messy. Parts of him are so traumatized, but then he still has a moral code and he wills himself to find . . . I think you’re right. He realizes he’s a broken man who’ll never be normal, but he says, “Okay, how can I use this to at least help people?”

Exactly. And I like what you just said, that it’s not easy to stay in your moral code, right? And on that, I have a question, because your book is vulnerable, right? You actually share everything in it. At least it’s looks like you’ve shared everything. And vulnerability is something that is scary for a lot of people, in any culture. Like, “Oh, my God, don’t share.” I don’t know about your culture. I come from—I am an Iraqi immigrants. You are born and raised in America, but your parents are originally from Pakistan, as you said earlier.

I come from a culture that’s like “[Arabic 00:12:08], shame. Do not say these things.”

Same. Same.

“Do not say about your family issues and drama and trauma. Keep your . . . What do you call it? Your laundry indoors. Never put it outdoors, right?

Why did you choose to share it, to share everything and be vulnerable in front of both your community and the world?

There’s no other way to tell the story honestly, and I’d be failing. I’d be failing the story, I’d be failing myself, and I’d be failing the audience, right? It’s oftentimes . . . What you describe is what I call the log kya kahenge, “What will people say?” mentality of most cultures around the world, but especially when it comes to the Middle East and South Asia, East Asia; there’s so much of a premium put on honor and dignity and shame.

It’s good to have a little bit of shame, but we go a little too, like extreme. I’m like, “Can you just be moderate on this for a bit?” “Don’t cut your nose.” “Don’t cut your family’s nose.” “Save your face.” “Don’t air the dirty laundry.” “What will people say?” Then on top of that, you compound it when you’re a marginalized community, without much representation. When you’re an immigrant community, when you have to fight for everything; you get mocked for your skin tone, you get mocked for your accent, you get mocked for your last name, you get mocked for your religion, and you have to build everything from scratch in order to retain it.

Then they say the one moment that you have of representation, “Make us look perfect.” Because they look at us as freeloaders or savages or beasts or violent, so you have to smile with your white teeth. We have perfect families, even though we don’t. Perfect marriages, even though people are miserable. Perfect finances, no one’s depressed, no one’s divorced, no one’s gone to jail. Everything’s perfect, so you have to be perfect. Both for your own community, which will judge you, and also from the external community that already doesn’t trust you.

It’s this cycle of fiction. I one time wrote that we’re just living fictional lives. We can never be ourselves. We wear this mask, this multiple masks for ourselves, for our family, for our community, and then for the larger community. And what happens, I think, in that fiction is truth is silenced. Truth is hidden. Truth is put in a cage and you throw away the key and you dump it in the Pacific Ocean. But then with that, there’s no freedom, right? We just suffocate. And so the problems exist, but then no one addresses the problem so there’s no solutions. So people just quietly suffer. And there’s something about a hypocrisy that I see there. It just doesn’t resonate, and that story rings untrue. An audience member that’s skeptical that says, “I just don’t buy it. That’s not how life is. Life is more messy. You’re telling me everything’s perfect?”

And so telling the story, the reason why I told that at this time is the missing link of the story for a large part was the missing link of my life. What happens from the ages of twenty-one to thirty-two where my parents go to jail and then the repercussions of that. I was never ashamed, Zainab, of saying this. Whenever someone asked me, I always talked about it, but it’s two things that happened. Number one, it was also my parents’ story, and memoir is a type of theft, and with great power come the responsibility, and I just wanted to make sure they were at a place where the case was over and they were safe and comfortable.

And then also, you know, there’s a Miles Davis quote, which is great, “It takes a long time to play like yourself.” And so, I could have written the story at thirty-two, thirty-five, thirty-eight. I had the offers, but it took some time. So people say, “How long did it take you to write the story?” I say, “I cranked it out in two months.” “That’s amazing.” But I’m like, “That’s not the right answer. It took me forty years.”

And I decided to tell it this way because this is the only way to tell the story properly, and my Spidey-sense was correct on this, is that by being open about all the ugliness, instead of people laughing at me and mocking me, which was, there was a whisper in my head, “Why are you doing this, Wajahat? They’ll laugh at you.” Like the movie, Carrie. “They’re all going to laugh at you!” And we’ve gone through the mockery, if you read the book it’s all there. I went through it, it triggers those memories, but I thought “No, no, no. I have a feeling that even if I get mocked at, laughed at, ridiculed, ten times as many people will probably email me eventually and be like, “Thank you. Now you’ve given me space. Maybe I can tell my story. Oh look, they didn’t laugh at you. Oh, there’s space to talk about incarceration and mental health and poverty. Oh yeah. This happens in my family. Oh, there can be healing. You can emerge from it. There’s light at the end of the tunnel.” So that’s why I decided to tell it. There was no other way to tell it.

Wow. Well, so I’m more like your wife, who is a crier. I cry at everything and you just brought tears to my eyes and I’m like trying to hold it, not to cry because . . .

Oh, you’re one of those.

[laughs] It’s so beautiful. I have to say, I personally connect to it. A few years ago I wrote my own memoir and it was very intimate aspect of my family and I was scared to death. I was scared, oh my God, of my own community or back home. Frankly, in my case, I was scared of the FBI and the CIA. You know, I knew Saddam Hussein.

Mmm [affirmative]. Why not.

So I was very scared. And it was a leap of faith, a leap of faith to just write it, because I needed to free myself also from the fear, right?

Yep. That’s right. That’s exactly it.

And two things happened. One, all my fears did not come true. I got actually the opposite response. People would stop me and say, “Thank you for writing the stories. Not only your stories, our story as well.” And then the second thing is fear disappeared. That fear that I realized that I was prison guard to it, I was ashamed of it, all of that, sort of disappeared. And actually I needed to . . . I remember one time I was like, “What do I fill it with?” It created a gap in my chest. What do I do now with it? I want to fill it with something new.

You felt unburdened?

Completely.

Yeah. The weight was lifted, like someone took a rock off your chest.

Exactly.

You could exhale, finally.

Did you get the response that you . . . what response you got?

So overwhelmingly, it’s been very positive, in the sense that there’s three really lovely comments that people give me. Number one, they didn’t expect it to be so funny. So they’re like, “I really laughed out loud.” Number two, they said, “I didn’t expect to cry.” Because then you said, “I’m like, oh this is a good lighthearted immigrant story. I needed this. And then there’s a shift in the story.” And they’re like, “I did not expect that. Whoa, rollercoaster” And then third thing that really makes me happy. And this has been a consistent theme is, “I did not think or expect you would end in—on a hopeful note.” And that’s what people are really shocked by. The book is very hopeful. Because just knowing me, knowing what I talk about, knowing the challenges and knowing the story, they’re like, “Oh, this will be either bitter, or cynical, or be a type of muted hope. But no, they’re like, “Wow, this is full-throated hopeful ending.”

It’s actually one of the questions, because I notice it, one of the questions I have for you. And the book not only ends on hopefulness, every story has a hopeful element to it. At the beginning, a simple story of your father coming here as an immigrant. And there is a story of this one person who shows up for him, remember?

Yeah. Yeah.

And it’s like, you choose bitterness and anger about discrimination and racism and prejudice, or you choose to see that one person who shows up, right? It’s a constantly hopeful experience. What do you have to say for those who are angry and enraged, for all the right reason? How can one transform their feelings into hope? And why have you changed that to hope? I don’t think that you ever . . . Were you ever angry and enraged?

I’m sure I was. I think anger is a legitimate emotion.

Absolutely.

This is what’s interesting. A question to consider, in my opinion, is who has the right to anger in America? And if you really think about it, you’ll see that even the right to anger is a privileged emotion. I’ll give you one example. I went and covered the Trump rallies. Trump said horrible things, always seemed angry, scowling, bitter. “Chaos in the streets, crime. The immigrants come from shithole countries.” And his followers and his fans said, “Look at him, he’s keeping it real. Shooting from the hip. Politically incorrect. We are mad as hell and we’re not going to take it.” Anger celebrated. Look at right-wing radio. Some of the most privileged, wealthy men on Earth. I’m like, “Why are you so angry all the time? Life is good for you.” But their anger is celebrated.

Now look at, often, women, regardless of their ethnicity, and people of color. Not allowed to be angry. Just not. “Why are you so angry? Why are you so reactionary? Why are you so uppity? Why are you so bossy? Why do you have such an attitude? Why can’t you just be happy, happy. Smile more.” The angry Black men, the angry brown men, the savage, the brute, the beast. Look at Obama. Obama could never be angry. Eight years as president that guy could never be angry. Why? Because he’s a Black man. And so the right to anger is a privileged emotion in America reserved oftentimes for white men and white women, and celebrated. The rest of us, we kind of gaslight ourselves and even censor our righteous anger, our righteous rage, a rage that is allowed, because their communities being targeted and there’s in inequality and injustice. So there’s that. So you have a right to your anger.

The problem then is the following: If you don’t release that anger and you just keep it quiet, based on the double standards that I’ve mentioned, it’s a simmering fire. It’s a simmering fire that can explode inside you and it destroys you. And that’s the problem with anger is that if you keep it inside your chest and you don’t transform it into a type of positive kinetic energy, you self-immolate, figuratively. And so I realize that my disposition is I can take a lot more than most. I don’t swear. I don’t get like really loud and angry, unlike my, my family members. I always joke that my paternal side, hot-blooded, hot-blooded, like naan, rises up very quick, falls down very quick. Sometimes they fight. I’m like, “What the hell is happening?” Just, “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah blah.” Right? Just everything’s large, passionate. Everything. Emotions are large, intellect is large, generosity is large, anger is large. I’m not like that at all.

And so I think maybe seeing that growing up, in my own disposition, I’m a simmer-er. I simmer, quietly. I simmer quietly, but I realize I need a vehicle to unleash it in a way where it doesn’t consume me, because life is too short. I’ll be miserable and that can transform into Gollum. And I don’t want to transform into Gollum. And so you have to find an outlet, number one, to transform that very powerful emotion, which is a righteous emotion that you’re feeling—and it’s good you feel that. There’s so many things to be angry about. If you’re not angry, I’m like, “What’s wrong with you?” But then also as this is happening to you and perhaps your community, if you just get fueled by anger, or focus on anger, which is what some of my friends who are in the activists . . . I see that it destroys their lives. Their personal lives get destroyed. They can’t hold onto a relationship. They’re effed up with their kids. Outwardly, people think they’re amazing, but you’ve seen it, these people have terrible . . .

Oh, I’ve had it in myself.

Yeah. It destroys you. Poison.

Yeah. Absolutely.

And so you need to replace that also with joy. And the final thing I’ll say is the reason why that’s so important, you have to invest in joy and actively, intentionally work at it, almost like exercise. Is you also, not just for yourself, you have to figure out, in my opinion, I’m at that age now I have kids, what are we modeling for the youth? Because a young person would be like, “I don’t want this in my life. My mom and dad were just angry all the time. They were bitter. I don’t want this.” And then they just tap out and then instead they say, “Let me just go make a lot of money.”

How do you keep joy going then? How do you invest in joy?

That’s a very good question. I think first and foremost, you have to . . . people will laugh at this, but I have some experience. Been through some things, especially the last three years, we’re all going through a pandemic. And right before the pandemic I mentioned my daughter’s cancer. I feel like we are not taught. Oftentimes we, I mean a certain generation and also certain ethnic communities, Iraqi, Yemeni, Pakistani, no one ever says the following, “What’s making you content? Are you happy? Have you invested in joy?” It’s like, “Are you married? Do you have kids? What will people say? Do you have a BMW yet? Do you have a Honda? Do you have a minivan? What college did your kids go to?” Success is measured by the material. Because most immigrants that come to this country and they tell you, “Okay, this country only worships one thing, which is money.”

So in order to be seen as a success—I didn’t say content. I didn’t say happy—it’s all material. It’s all physical stuff. So you need the car. You need the house, you need the wife, you need the kids and need the kids to go to a good school. Now, no one ever asks, “But does this make you happy? Are you content? Are you fulfilled?” No one asks this question. So first and foremost, investing in a language and developing a language that asks these questions and seeks answers, number one. Number two, making the intention. And then number three, this is very important, stealing moments, or investing moments in every day where you just simply say, “I’m doing this because it makes me happy.”

And it’s subjective, run, some people like running, cooking, spending time with your kids, almost like exercise. “I will spend twenty minutes a day, no matter what is happening.” Read a good comic book, because this makes me happy. It’s not for my taxes, it’s not for my stocks. It’s not for my credit. It’s not for my clout. It’s not for what will people say? I couldn’t care less. It’s ridiculous. It’s silly. I’m doing it, because it makes me happy. And that’s that. And to fundamentally think like that is a radical shift in a mindset, which is very threatening to our communities, because we are taught as we started this conversation, “Honor, shame, suffer quietly, suffer well, don’t whine. It’s a privileged emotion for white people. We don’t have time for therapy. You’re not weak. Pray it away.”

And then you get older. And a final thing I’ll say is you get older and a few and uncle and aunties—you know the uncles and aunties refers to any elder—your mom tells you, “Oh, that person’s suffering from depression. That person has bipolar. That person had a terrible marriage.” And I don’t know about you, Zainab, but you sit there and you think about it, you’re like, “Everything makes sense now. That’s why they behave the way they behave.” And then you feel bad. I feel bad. I don’t about you. I’m like, “Man, if they only had therapy thirty years ago. If they only had divorced thirty-five years ago. If they only had pursued what they wanted to pursue, their whole life would’ve been different.” So that’s why it’s important. I’ve seen too many lives wasted.

That’s so true. It is so true. What you call joy, I call freedom. Dare to free yourself from these boundaries and restrictions and go live your life. And then it’s worth it. The right is hard, at the beginning, to get divorce is hard to. Whatever you want to do to express yourself freely is very hard and challenging. And I don’t want to sugarcoat it for anybody.

Of course.

But it’s so worth it. It is so worth it at the end, because at least you’re living in your truth.

And we have limited time.

Absolutely.

Some people don’t realize.

Absolutely.

And then when you die, the funny thing is we live our whole life consumed by the question, “What will people say?” And the funny thing is that people don’t care, and that’s the tragedy of it all. Because when you die, the same people whom you lived your whole life for, if you’re lucky, you’ll get five people to bury you, if you’re lucky. And can you imagine? You’re like, “Oh, I live my whole life for people who don’t even care that I’m dead, because they’re consumed with, “What will people say?” Every person’s consumed with the same affliction and we kind of don’t talk about or realize it. I just feel like it’s kind of like a dark comedy.

You have encountered death in different forms in your life. And your daughter almost had a brush with death. What have these experiences taught you about the essence of life? And what’s most important about life?

I like how you’re asking me these very simplistic questions, Zainab, this is very nice. This is these cookie-cutter questions about life and death, existential crisis. The meaning of life.

I am searching for myself because I went through that and the questions are coming out of my true personal search for these answers.

No, look, I think it’s fascinating in that in the United States of America especially, that nobody ever talks about death. When we were growing up, there was a saying, and I’m going to alter it, because it no longer exists. It’s there’s only two things guaranteed in life, death and taxes. Rich people found a way around taxes. They still haven’t found a way around death. They outsource it to the Cayman Islands, like, “We’re rich, we’ll figure out taxes.” They’re still trying to figure out a way around death. Trust me, Americans hate talking about death. You can’t talk about it. You can’t mention it. You can’t invest a conversation in it, because everyone thinks they’ll live forever. And, and I’m like, “Nope, we’re all going to die.” Everyone knows of death, and no one talks about it. Even as I’m just having this conversation with you, it just always astounds me that no one talks about death, even though it’s the only thing guaranteed in life, you will die.

And so in between your life, your birth, and your death is something called life. And only God knows how much time we have. Even the rich people haven’t figured that out. They’ve tried to extend their life. They don’t know. And so then that brings a type of finality to this journey. And so then you say, “Huh, this journey’s gonna to end. I don’t know when, but it is. What am I doing with the time that I have?” And I think there’s one really fascinating thing that’s happened with the pandemic, if you’ve read the stories and the data, is that the reason why a lot of people are not going back to work is not that they don’t need the money. They need the money. They’re like, “I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to do this. I’m miserable. What do I do with my time?

And then everyone says, “Okay, well what’s my purpose? What am I supposed to do on this time and this Earth?” It’s a very profound question. So each of us has to find this hero’s journey. And I feel like for me, I’m the same way. I ask myself, everyone thinks well, “Wajahat, you have it figured out.” I’ll be honest with you, even yesterday, I was talking to my wife. I have this conversation at least once a week with my wife. I used to be every day, so I’ve gotten better. I’m like, “Have I wasted my life?” She goes, “You haven’t. Calm down. Have some chai.” I’m like, “Have I used my talents wisely?”

”I don’t know what more you want. You’ve done more than most.”

”What am I supposed to do with the rest of the life?”

”Why don’t you just take a month off and just play video games and relax and figure it out?”

I think there’s with you and me, people like us who care about this, there’s an inherent drive. And that drive itself, it can be very inspiring, but it could also be paralyzing, because you put so much on yourself that you miss out on this thing called life, that you’re living in the moment, because you’re always chasing the next thing. “I got to do more. I got to do this. I’m so privileged. God’s going to ask me, well, he gave me so much. What did I do? And there’s so many problems. I have to fix these challenges.” And then you miss life. You’re not there with your wife or your partner, it ends in divorce. You’re not there with your kids, your kids grow up resenting you. You don’t sit there and really enjoy the ice cream because your mind is in different planes.

So, to what I’ve tried to do, and it’s work, is I’m trying my best to enjoy the moments that I have. My kids are young. They’re going to get old. The wisdom that I’ve been given by parents, and I’ve tried to pay attention, is, this time never comes back. They keep telling me that, this time never comes back. They keep telling me that. They said, “I’m telling you, man, once these kids get old, you’ll never get this back.” So there’s a part of me that says I should be doing more, I should be writing more, but I think about it, I’m like, my babies will never be babies again. Right? Spend time with the babies. Spend time on your body, get some health, enjoy your wife, right. Enjoy each other. And then do what you can in the moment that at least leads you to where you want to go with your goal. And so for me, I’ve always wanted be a storyteller, and a part of me has this deep regret and pain, I’m like, “I should have done so much more. I’m forty-one now. I should have written three books. How come I didn’t?”

And I think that type of dry . . . What I’ve done, Zainab, and I’ll tell you this, this is very liberating. I’ve forgiven myself. Which freed me. Because I realized I was paralyzed. I paralyzed myself. I was just stuck. I got stuck. When you overthink, instead of movement, it creates stasis, and that’s what happened to me. I become like catatonic. Because you’re so overwhelmed with all the things you should do, and this and that, that you end up doing what? Nothing. And then we go back to the same thing. Once I unburdened myself of that self-flagellation, allowed myself to be present in the moment and say, “Okay, I might not run there and I might not make it there, but along the way, maybe I’ll get halfway there.” I have to at least enjoy the journey. If I’m eating this ice cream and not even enjoying each lick, what’s the point?

You asked me a big question. I gave you a messy, sloppy answer.

I love it. No, I love it. You know what’s triggering me? This year’s theme. I’ve been obsessed with turtles. I was in Mexico and I saw all these baby turtles and adult turtles, and it triggered childhood memory of cartoons, the Bugs Bunny and the turtle, right, and how the turtle moves so slowly. And I always was a Bugs Bunny in my life. Fast, run, do it fast, all of these things. Next ride, next run. And then recently, this is just a couple of months ago, I was obsessed with turtles because turtles make it at the end. They do. They’re just slower. But they enjoy it, right?

Just to give you an example, I wanted to be able to swim an hour a day, and I couldn’t. I could do it twenty minutes and then I could do it half an hour and I could do it—

That’s impressive to me. Wow.

Thank you. But I wanted really an hour. And the only way I reached the hour is when I allowed myself to swim leisurely rather than competitively. And I imagined being the turtle and I was like, “Oh, this is so nice.” Each stroke, I really just enjoyed it and I went slow. Lo and behold, it became an hour. I did not count. I did not judge myself. I did not say, “Am I swimming, am I in shape enough,” or nothing. And when I let go of all of these things, I was able to accomplish the very goal that I couldn’t do it when I was a Bugs Bunny. Fast, competitive, all of these things.

The recurring theme is, and the data backs this up, that . . . Because people might be listening to this right now and they’re like, this funny thing is the wellness industry has appropriated so many of our spiritual traditions. They’re like “mindfulness.” And I’m like, “Okay, so basic Sufism. Like Sufism 101.” And they’ll never say it, right. And it’s a billion-dollar industry. The self-help books, Zainab, are the ones that always win. Everyone’s trying to be best version of themselves, the better version of themselves. There’s a checklist. And if you just do this, then you’ll be happy.

So American, such a Western concept, right? Just do this and you’ll have immediate gratification. Just do this and you’ll have your bucket list. Just do this and it’ll be perfect. And the funny thing is, if you’ve ever gone with that mindset, you get to the end of the checklist, you get to the end of the rituals, you get to the end of the exercise and you’re like, “Okay, well, that was nice. Yeah, no I’m . . . Is this Nirvana? It doesn’t feel like Nirvana. Okay, well, I need another self-help book. I need another checklist. I need a—” You know? And so we keep running, running, running, running, and without enjoying the taste.

And I think once you unburden yourself, and you write another story for yourself, I think this is very important, the data shows, the words that we use for ourselves, it changes our brain chemistry. It changes our behavior. Right? And it changes our perspective because the languages that oftentimes we’re given or that we absorb or that we self-create, it’s not a liberating language. It’s very toxic, self-defeating. And we think, “No, no, no, but I need my edge. If I give into this chop suey, chop huey wellness nonsense, mumbo-jumbo nonsense, and self-love, self-care, I’ll become weak and flabby.” And then we come from those traditions and I think those personalities, we’re like, “No, no, no, I’ll lose my edge. So I have to just beat myself up” at all times, without realizing the damage that does and how it strips us of joy.

So true. It’s so true.

And then when you’re like, “Oh, you know, I don’t need to be the Bugs Bunny. I could be the turtle.” And then you are happier.

I love the turtle. [laughs]

You got your hour, you enjoy it. It doesn’t become a race, it becomes a pleasurable activity where you still then are able to get what you want from it, but you get joy also.

Absolutely. And this is what I’m embracing in my life, as someone who does want to accomplish things and all of that, as you just mentioned. Wajahat, you mention God a lot, and I really appreciate that about you. I have to say, as a Muslim myself, appreciate that you actually use Muslim terminology. Jihad, God. For those who are not familiar with these, or have very negative connotation of jihad, let’s just start with that.

Oh, yeah. I do mention jihad in the book. Yes. But in a totally different way.

So can you explain how you see jihad, and then later, how do you find God?

Yeah. So jihad is an Arabic word, and jihad comes from Islam, and there’s basically two components to it. Right? And then I’ll tell you the way people use it.

So the component of warfare. It exists in Islam, that there is an aspect of warfare and that’s a type of jihad. But what’s really interesting about this is the people who claim to use it, just because you say you’re doing jihad, doesn’t make a jihad. For example, I can say, “Oh, I shot that person. That was jihad.” No, you committed murder. “Oh, I blew up that building. I was doing jihad.” Nope, you’re a terrorist. And so it’s interesting to note that that type of quote unquote language reserved for struggle in warfare is only if it is sanctioned by God and done in godly ways.

I know that’s a very strange thing to say, right? There’s boundaries, there’s parameters, there’s ethics, there’s morals, there’s rules, right? You can claim you’re doing jihad to rationalize your violent actions and to delude your all into thinking that you have God’s stamp of approval, but oftentimes those men and women who are using and abusing the word jihad, and specifically the one that responds to the struggle in the battlefield, they are, if you will, misappropriating the terminology and the legacy of the Prophet Muhammad, and pretty much destroying the word that is used by 1.7 billion Muslims, right. And so they’ve hijacked the word, which is so painful.

There’s the other aspect of jihad, and this is people say, “Oh, you Muslims, you’re just whitewashing it. Oh, this is political correctness. Or you’re just saying that to save face.” We heard it. “Oh, ‘the peaceful jihad.’ Sure, whatever.” No. Very clear within Islamic history the Prophet Muhammad tells us . . . upon coming back from battlefield said, “Though greater jihad is the jihad against the [Arabic 00:39:46], which is the ego.”

And you’ll hear this a lot now in, wait for it, the wellness industry. It’s like Sufism 101. The ego, the voice, the id that compels your base self, either towards appetites or self-destructive behaviors. To tame it, to control it, to know yourself, to deliberately refine it, right. To do that type of a spiritual struggle is a lifelong struggle, which is the greater jihad in Islam, and also the most difficult jihad.

To really know yourself and to control yourself, and to steer those—to acknowledge everyone has their own challenges. Some it’s anger, some people are petty, some people are miserly. Whatever it is, everyone has it. You know what I’m talking about—to acknowledge it, to know yourself, to do a deep dive and then to spend your life trying to be the best version of yourself. The inner struggle. Jihad. Okay?

And then the colloquial term is just the way human beings use it. When they come from Muslim majority families or countries, even they might be atheists. “Oh man. Oh man, not eating this cookie’s going to be a jihad.”

[laughs] It’s true. It is true.

[laughs] You know that’s how they use it.

It’s just an Arabic word. It’s true.

Or just fun. I’m like, “I will do a jihad against this mountain,” and you get halfway up the mountain, like, “Nope, I’m done.” And internalizing this, internalizing also the way it’s been used and abused, having some humor with it. It’s like the word inshallah. Inshallah means God willing. It’s a beautiful word. It’s like the Swiss army knife word. But the way it’s used oftentimes is the following: “Hey, you’re a really pretty girl. Let me go talk to that pretty girl. Hey, Zainab, can you give me your phone number?” You’re like, “Yeah, inshallah.” Translation: I’m never going to give you my phone number. “Baba, are we going to go to Toys’R’Us?” “Inshallah. Inshallah, we’ll go to Toys’R’Us.” You will never go to Toys’R’Us.

So I think it’s very important for people to also understand how the term is used and understood. So you asked me a simple question, I gave you a long answer, but that’s how I use the term jihad, is the way we Muslims often use the word in daily occurrence. And then also, what was your second question? Which was a more profound question.

Well, before I go to the second is because you have been on the front lines in American media, talking about all the misconceptions about Islam, which continue and are endless—

Endless!

—and continue until today. As we even deal with Ukraine war. And so we are like, “Oh, they are not as bad as we are.” Or actually, they’re good. We are bad.

No, no. No, literally. That’s what I mean. So many stories of journalists and reporters on camera saying, “They look like us. They have blue eyes, they’re European, they’re civilized. Unlike what’s happening in Afghanistan and Iraq.” And almost like as if Afghans, Yemenis, and Iraqis are bound—doomed to suffering, it’s their natural inclination to be exterminated. And we should expect that and we should not care, but not in Europe, huh? “They look like us. We should empathize with them.” Amazing. Amazing double standard.

How do you hear? Because I see you in the media and you always actually are calm, and/or funny, right? How do you hold that? I mean how do you . . . And yet you are not apologetic about using popular Muslim countries. I mean, terminologies, right? Like jihad, for example, right. Inshallah.

I’ll drop “inshallah” randomly on MSNBC. I don’t care.

I love it. I love it. Is that strategic on your end? Is that you’re just saying I’m going to be who I am and I’m not going to be apologetic of who I am and I’m going to criticize my own community for the things that are wrong there, but I’m going to also not be angry or upset or frustrated?

I think it’s disposition. My fitra, if you will, if they say another Arabic word. Just my personality, which has helped me, especially when it comes to media. I remember even after 9/11, I mentioned in a book, I was a twenty-year-old, about to turn twenty-one-year-old, student leader of the Muslim Student Association, I was on the board, and the two towers fell. And I remember there was an interview and we had no training, Zainab. You know how it was back in the day, it was madness. And then all of a sudden everyone’s terrified, and then someone gives you a microphone. You’re like, “What? What’s happening? I’m trying to figure out my major.” And you become an accidental activist and an accidental representative. That’s how it is with most of us, we get just pushed in.

For most people, like, “How’d you start this?” I’m like, “I don’t know. Someone just kicked me into the water and I had to swim or drown.” That’s what it was. And so I got invited to do this interview, and I was naive, but not that naive. I said, “Is it a fair interview?” They said, “Yeah. There’ll be two callers for you. There’ll be two callers against you.” And right out of the gates, the usual. Muslims, extremist radicals, Israel, Palestine. I’m like, “Israel, Palestine, what? Where’d this come from? I thought we were talking about if America’s going to start a war against Afghanistan.”

But the usual. They throw the whole kitchen sink at you. Al-Qaeda, jihad, women, hijab, like everything. So you have to be the culture ambassador of 1.7 billion people and 1400 years of Islamic civilization, and you have to apologize for the violent actions of violent people you’ve never met. And you have to be an expert on all issues. And if you mess up, it’s not just Wajahat who messed up. I become the ambassador, just like you, of all, all Muslims, all brown people.

And so I realized, that was my first time, a boom. It was a Blitzkrieg. And then my friend at the time, another Muslim guy, who I won’t mention, because he laughs. He goes, “Man, watch.” I go back and I hear that. He just laughs. He goes, “I cringe because I lost my top. From the get go, he just got me because he was so offensive. But then you were like Bugs Bunny. You were cool, calm, and collected.” And I realized from that time on, they don’t expect you and me to be cool, calm, and collected. They don’t expect you and me to be worldly. They don’t expect you and me to be literate. They don’t expect you and me to be witty. They don’t expect you and me to have the ability to out-debate them and out-right them.

And so the most dangerous stereotype, in my opinion, of the Muslim, the one that really threatens them is people like you and me. Now, you might assume someone who’s listening “No, no, it’s the Osama stereotype.” They’re not scared of it. That’s the easy one. They can bomb him away. He’s the villain, the brute, the savage. It’s the one who eats his carrot and says, “Ah, what’s up, Doc?” They don’t know what to do with guys like us. Right? They don’t know. They’re like, “Oh he’s blunt, he says it, he doesn’t apologize, but he can be funny. He hasn’t raised his voice, he doesn’t swear, he—but he knows his facts. Oh, we can’t just dismiss him and stereotype him and marginalize him.” Right? It’s almost a jiu jitsu.

So I realized if I lean into that, especially in the theater that is the media, I can be two steps ahead, and I could subvert their expectations and their assumptions about me and they can’t peg me as an angry Muslim. You might not like what I have to say, that’s fine. I’m not angry. You’re way more angry than I am. Show me clips where I’m angry. I get passionate, I don’t get angry. And 98 percent of the time, I’ll be funny. I’m not trying to be funny, but that’s just my personality.

And so it also just shows you, Zainab, that it’s so radical for some people because, I shared this story in the book, there’s this really well-known agent. Really nice guy, liberal, New York, Ivy League–educated. He courts me, I mention this story in the book, and tries to get me to sign. And he looks at me and he says, “I didn’t know Muslims could be funny.” And I didn’t say anything. And then he quickly interrogates himself, “But why did I think that? That’s so silly. There’s a billion Muslims. And they’re people.” And the whole time, I just kept quiet as he did this monologue, and I kept eating grilled octopus, because it was the first time. I’m like, “Oh this is very tasty.”

And so as he just had this seven-minute conversation with himself, I ate his branzino fish and I ate the grilled octopus and I had the bread and I had a really great free lunch. But even—it’s liberals, not just the right wing, who, when they see people like you and me, they think savage, beast, brute. And when we come in like Bugs Bunny, instead of Daffy Duck, we have the edge because they have no idea how to deal with us. And so that’s how it’s helped me in my career.

Very important. I mean, I breathe through some of the experiences that I’ve encountered. I was telling a friend that someone was asking me, “Do you face discrimination or prejudice or racism?” I was like, “Of course I do.” At worst, I’m a terrorist. At best, I’m an oppressed woman, just for being a Muslim.

That’s it. That’s all you are.

Right. I’m an oppressed woman. Or the best, best, best, best, is like, “Oh, I must be unique.” Which, I was like, “No, I’m not unique, all my aunts and uncles and everyone, and all the women in my life actually are as strong as I am and no different.” Maybe I’m not even as strong as they are, right? So it’s so frustrating and I, and there were moments in my life, especially when I was younger, that I do get angry. And then when you get angry, then it’s like, you become what the expectation is of you.

Just like what you’re saying. Right. And you’re like, “But you just poked me until I became angry.” And then I had to really learn how to shift the anger into—where you are ahead of me, for sure—on how do you breathe through it and how do you actually address it with kindness, clarity, but kindness in a way that it can be heard and not be scaring people away basically, but it’s a skill sets. And I think it’s an important skill sets where you have to balance between having the room for anger in your life, which, I’m a Middle Eastern woman, we have anger, anger is an okay emotions back home.

But it’s also a righteous anger. It’s an anger that’s well earned and well deserved.

Yeah, absolutely. And then yet, how do you package it in a way or how do you express it in a way that it can be heard and not be threatening or can be heard?

Because there’s a double standard, because there’s a double standard, because the mental gymnastics that you just described, and that I described, when people say what’s white privilege, that’s white privilege, because they’ll never have to do this, ever. They can just be angry and they’ll be rewarded, whereas you and me, even though there’s righteous anger, if we were to lean into that emotion, purely, we would ultimately be doing disservice to ourselves, our communities and we will be completely just, we will not be seen as valid, legitimate voices. We’ll be dismissed as angry reactionaries.

It’s true.

And so it’s like we have to do it strategically, but also spiritually. And for our own mental health, you have to find a way to pivot.

That’s true.

And like you said, for Muslim women, it’s tough because you’re either the extremist or you’re the oppressed women. And then they have to bomb your brothers and fathers to save you from them. Or you are the magical unicorn, moderate brown woman. And you just need to have 4500 babies to produce more people like yourself. You have to mass produce yourself.

It’s true. It’s very true.

Why can’t they be like you? And they tell us “Why can more people be like you? You’re the good one.” You’re like, “Oh my God.”

Yeah.

That’s a problematic statement.

Yeah. Yeah. And it’s not problem, it’s hurts the soul. I mean, I don’t know how to express to people, it really, it’s not only insulting, it hurts your essence because this is not who I am or my people are. And then you’re telling me this is who you are and your people are. So it’s an injury to the soul. Unless we find another way to combat it and find the sense of humor and the joy as you were talking about. And I want to go back to the other question I had, which is God, you talk about God, you refer to God a lot just in this conversation. What does God mean for you? How do you experience God in your life?

It’s a very profound question. So Allah, we Muslims use the word Allah. Allah means God, okay, just trust me. I’m not trying to psych you out. It’s not a moon God, it’s not a fake God. It’s the same God, Abrahamic God, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not, that’s fine. But that’s when Muslims say, Allah, we mean God. And I’m saying that to those people who are skeptical, because there’s so much misinformation out there. It’s just Allah, it’s the same God of Abraham, same God of Isaac, same God of Joseph, same God of Luke, of same God of [Arabic 00:51:47], Jesus, and the same God of prophet Muhammad. So it’s God, Allah, okay.

The funny thing is this, and I was having a conversation with someone is even our conversations about religion is just so superficial in this country. Because if you think about it, there are many religious people. It’s a very strange country where there’s separation of church and state, but then religion plays a very active role in people’s lives for better and for worse in America, right? And the way we talk about religion and oftentimes I will admit, even in liberal circles, is they assume that we are either vegans or carnivores, and I’m like, “No, most people are omnivores.” Right? Like they think “You’re the good Muslim. You’re secular and you drink and you don’t fast. You’re the good one. Oh, the other one who fasts and prays and has done hajj, that’s scary.” I literally have had these conversations with people where I don’t say anything and people make assumptions about me. I’m like, “No, actually I pray.” “You pray? To God, really?” And I’m like, “Yes.” “You believe?” And then you can see that they’re doing these gymnastics in their head, their brains, trying to comprehend what’s happening.

Like Terminator. Have you ever seen the Terminator movies, when like his system gets overwritten with multiple different computations, like he shuts down, doesn’t-know-what-to-do. They’re like, “But he’s a literate, funny guy, and he’s practicing, how is that possible?” And so I think what most people need to realize is most, many individuals, I would say, even in America, they have a very fluid relationship with God and spirituality. So they’ll identify and they might believe in God, but they might pray only during Ramadan. Or they’ll drink, but they’ll stop for Ramadan. Or they do everything, but they say, “I really want to do Hajj” or they’ll be like, “I don’t do all the rituals, but I really believe.” Or they say “I do the rituals and I’m trying to be a good person. And I’m trying to work on my nafs and I’m trying to do jihad of my nafs. I’m trying to be just a decent person, but I love gambling.”

And I just described the human experience to you, okay? I think that’s important because oftentimes you get this stereotypical, superficial, ridiculous understanding of religious communities, which is completely divorced from the reality. But for me, if people know me and I think you see this in the book, people are always surprised at how religion plays a big role in my life. It does. It colors, everything. I think I’ve always been this way. I’ve always believed in a higher power and believe time is limited. I believe the God that I believe in is ultimately a loving God, and a compassionate God, and a just God. I take the good with the bad because people oftentimes say, “If your God is so loving and just, how did that God give your daughter cancer? And if that God is so loving and just how could there be COVID? And if that God is so loving and just how could there be climate change?”

All true, fair comments, but then that same God, if this is how you want to intellectually tackle it, gave my daughter a brand new liver from an anonymous donor and five hundred strangers stepped up to be anonymous donor. She got insurance. I survived near-death experiences. I found a wife and kids and there are people who got the vaccine and survived, right? There are people who are working on climate change right now. There are communities that were resilient. There were people who made it. And so for me, you have to take the bad with the good, you have to take the entire ride. And I mentioned that in the book as well.

And that’s my relationship with God. You have to find God in the good and the bad, the pain and the joy, the sorrow and the sadness, and also the moments of happiness, right? Because there’s no other way to really do it. It’s unfair, if you only find God when it’s all good, then you just dump Him when it’s all bad, right? And so in everything, now this is the Muslim in me speaking, I’m like, “Okay, if this is the challenge, how does this make me a better person? What am I supposed to learn about myself? What am I supposed to learn about humanity? How do I become the best version of myself?” And then finally for me, with this belief in God and this belief in the day of judgment, that one day my life will end because there’s only one thing that’s certain in life is death and I will meet my creator.

For me then it’s like, when I meet my creator, I hope my creator embraces me. I hope my creator says “You did well.” And then for me, the challenge is always I’ve been given so much more than most people, and this is what kind of drives me and paralyzes me at the same time, Zainab, is I’ve been given so many opportunities, privilege, a wife, kids, loving parents, grew up in America. I don’t have an excuse, unlike other folks. I have to do the most that I can do. Because on the day of judgment, my God will ask me, “I gave you more than most. What did you do with it?” Right. So that just shows you asked me a simple question about my relationship with God. There you go. That’s where it is.

And then finally I’ll say with the near-death experiences that I mentioned in the book, I had several, you’ve gone through yours, is this is what I’ll say, people say it’s stupid, it’s story, fairy tale, it’s idiotic. I’ll say, that’s fine. I’ll give it to you. I only have one life to live, right? And we’re living a story, and the story of life, for me, is better with God in it, for me. And I’ll tell you this at the end, is that at the end, when I really thought I was going to go, I mean, really was near death. I really thought I was going to go, this belief or faith in a loving God that would embrace me as I was about to transition, gave me peace. Like it unburdened me at the last second. I’m like, “Okay, I’m okay.” And I let go. And so I say to people, if my only pitch is in those last moments, because I’ve had those near-death experiences, faith gives you comfort and allows you to transition with a clean heart, worth it. At least for me.

Profoundly beautiful. Profoundly beautiful. Thank you. Thank you. I connect to it. I was actually just, I open a Rumi poem every day, every morning. That’s how I start my day and today was about death for some reason. And in it he was talking about, “Do not mourn for me. I actually will be liberated with my creator, I’ll be united with my creator.” And it’s just so beautiful and to hear you speak that is beautiful. And I had actually heard you say that we need to invest in the current Rumis and just hearing that, Wajahat, is just, you definitely carry on the spirit of Rumi—

No, come on.

And what you just said, what you just said, man I mean like, look at me, tearing up here. Really, thank you.

You’re like my wife, you’ll cry looking at a snail, so it doesn’t count.

That’s beautiful. So we are near the end and I have quick questions to ask with you.

Yes. I talk too much. I’ll make them quick answers.

No, I love it. I can speak with you forever. It’s beautiful. I love every single thing that you said. Your favorite poets or piece of wisdom that you always go back to?

Oh, my favorite. Oh my gosh. Rumi in the original Farsi is very good. And especially when you read Rumi, like you said, knowing full well that he was a lover of God, it makes it all different and unlocks things. I think in America, we have a superficial reading of Rumi, a one-layer reading, which is like pie-in-the-sky, lovey-dovey stuff. But he was a deeply spiritual, committed man.

Oh, for sure.

It was all about his love with God.

Yes.

And so once you read those lines, whatever lines they are, it hits you. There was, and you mentioned it, I mentioned in the book, there was this verse from the Qur’an where Allah commands the fire. “Oh, fire be cool for Ibrahim.” And I mention in the book, there’s a story in the book because that verse was given to me as a gift from my [Arabic 00:59:41] who was my mother’s father’s brother, when he was alive, a very spiritual person, I was going through immense challenges, immense challenges. And so he said, “I’m giving you this first, just read it a couple of times a day.” And I’m like, “Why?” He goes just “It’ll help you.” And the verse corresponds to a story where the elders threw Abraham, as a young boy into the fire, to punish him, and then God commands the fire to be cool. And so I named my first son Ibrahim after that, and it’s a prayer. So people say, “Oh, you name him after Abraham.” I said, “Yeah, but I named him after that verse, because I want the fires of the world to be cooled for that generation.” And Inshallah, may that generation also use their talents to cool the fires.

Inshallah. It’s wonderful, beautiful. Movie that you always watch?

These are very difficult questions. I’m a big movie buff. I will say Godfather. It’s a very good one. Every time it comes on, I watch it, solid, very well-made movie, very American movie.

Song, piece of music that you always go to?

Oh, song, a piece of music. Oh, these are so good. There is, it’s so strange. This is like an instrumental piece of music by Moby called “God Moving Over the Face of Waters.”

Wow.

Which is a lovely track. And no one would’ve thought and it’s just like one of those little lovely, small gems.

Beautiful. I’ll check it out. And last but not least, favorite book that you read between now and then, could be comic book, could be anything?

Yeah. These are, I’m going to . . . Favorite book. Oh my God. I’m an English major, this is very difficult. When I was younger, I just . . . Here, I’ll tell you this, I remember when I was looking at heroes, it was in high school. It was this book about King Arthur, The Once And Future King, we read it and it’s not my favorite book, but I was thinking, I was going with like thirteen books and I’m like, “Yeah, I’ll just throw that out there.” Because there was something about that book that we read in junior year, English honors, The Once And Future King, that was a take on the Arthurian legends. And there was just something about the old heroic narrative and the fact that a brown Muslim kid is talking about a white, British story. I just thought that’d be just very beautiful for this podcast.

[closing piano music]

That was Wajahat Ali. To follow his views, check him out on Twitter @WajahatAli. His new memoir, Go Back To Where You Came From: And Other Helpful Recommendations on How to Become American, is available everywhere books are sold. For full transcripts of this episode, please visit www.findcenter.com. You can follow FindCenter on Instagram @find_center and follow me @ZainabSalbi. Redefined is produced by me, Zainab Salbi, along with Rob Corso, Casey Kahn, and Howie Kahn at FreeTime Media. Our music is by John Palmer. Special thanks to Neal Goldman, Caroline Pincus, and Sherra Johnston. See you next week when I’ll be joined by author and CEO of Virgin Unite, Jean Oelwang.