Sounds from sabbatical
Stories and poetry from my featured set at Side Rail & Acorn Collective on 9.11.25
When I learned a few weeks ago that I would be performing on September 11, I thought—how appropriate. As a Muslim Iranian American millennial from Boca Raton who came of age on and through this infamous day, there are a few things I could say. Particularly about what happened the next day—the day that I and I’m sure many other little brown kids will never forget.
I shared some of these memories and confessions in my pre-set introduction.
Summer is never my most poetic or creative season. The words run dry in the heat and don’t find their way back to me until the fall winds usher them in again.
So instead of struggling against this silence with furrowed brow and clenched fist while I attempted to write a completely original set, I decided to bring folks on a journey of my seasons with some of my favorite pieces from this past year. It was a fun way to revisit older versions of myself.
Here is a recap of my heart and mind from Summer 2024-Spring 2025. Full-length original performances can be found here.
Three years ago, when I got diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, I made the decision to give myself the entire month of August off—off from work, from obligation, from any need to feel productive. To move slowly and keep my system cool in the heat that threatens to ruin me.
But as the years have gone by, and my health has stabilized, this August break has turned more into a spiritual sabbatical. A time where I’m able to sit with life and reflect on all that has unfolded in the 11 months leading up this moment. To allow all the ups and downs to wash over and through me, and to move forward with greater intention and a renewed sense of purpose.
Here was my final piece for the night. Grateful for opportunity.