Just got back from Taraweeh prayer and the peaceful state of mind that I’d been for most of the month has returned.

Not sure how standing, praying, listening to the Quran being recited in Arabic, for about an hour can make you come away feeling so peaceful, but somehow it does.

In terms of physical exertion I’d say it’s equivalent to about walking a mile on the treadmill.

It had rained heavily this afternoon and the asphalt was still wet when got to the masjid.

I put my shoes on the rack, making a mental note of which shelf I put them on, just like I do when I park at the mall and look carefully at where the car is. You don’t want to lose your shoes!

It happens.

In fact I’ve even heard of expensive shoes being stolen, so I make sure mine aren’t too tempting.

And then I went into the prayer hall, that resembles a big gymnasium, and found a spot on the padded carpet that smelled like it had been sprayed with Febreeze.

Tonight I stood between two darker women, not sure where they were from, we stood shoulder to shoulder.

The other night I was praying beside a white lady who told me her name was Joanne. And on the other side was a very beautiful black girl, her hijab done up stylishly, the way the young girls do it.

And when I came out, the sky had cleared and the full moon filled the sky and dimmed all the other stars. There was a cool breeze that just accentuated that feeling of peace that had come over me, and I vowed to myself that I wouldn’t let two days go by again, without going to taraweeh.