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This afternoon I put my eldest brother’s name into Google and clicked on search; he came up as the first listing out of about 476,000. He has been involved in a number of landmark cases in the High Court and Court of Appeal, and Chambers and Partners list him as an up and coming individual. I then put in my sister’s name: she also came up first out of about 51,000, with eight further listings on the same page for work on single-crystal X-ray crystallography (or something). I immediately felt a pang of regret. I am an administrator going nowhere. In the next instant I was wondering what studies I could undertake to get out of this rut — to be something beside my siblings: the lawyer, the diplomat and the PhD doc. A moment later I realised that only pride lay behind this urge of mine.

For months now I have been lamenting my place in the world of work — I commonly describe it as being stranded — but recently I decided to just go with the flow, to go where my Lord takes me, to submit to His plan instead of crying over mine. Applications and interviews aligned to my interests yield no results; the description of my current role seemed to be what I was looking for, but its reality has proved far removed. Stranded here, at last I recently recognised that I have a station according to my efforts – and others have their station according to theirs. Over recent years I have found myself in the company of intellectuals and had started to consider myself one by association, but the reality is entirely different. That friends of mine are solicitors, teachers, academics and diplomats does not alter the fact that I am a simple worker whose eight hour days pay the bills and little more. Over recent months, the past that led me here has preoccupied me, but acknowledging mistakes cannot alter time.

Yesterday I decided to just submit, to go wherever this river takes me. There has always been a reason for every path I have taken, though I could not comprehend it at the time. I pray al-Istikarah at every juncture and move onwards accordingly. Friends ask me what I aspire to achieve in life: every time I just shrug my shoulders and mutter that I do not die other one who has earned my Creator’s pleasure. A dear friend of mine, now a high flying diplomat overseas, once gave me a telling off in the final weeks of my degree when he asked me what my intentions were. I told him that I did not know and he promptly told me that this was not good enough, that we all had to aspire to something. What he would think of me today, I wonder, if he knew that my answer seven years later is still the same. I have dreams of course, but I have no idea where I am going. Yes, it’s true: I don’t have a clue.

I only have these pangs of regret every now and then, when I realise how my siblings are doing and what my friends have achieved. But what lies behind this? I work to live, not vice versa. This simple job of mine pays the bills, puts food on the table. Does any man need any more? It is only pride that fosters these regrets of mine: the desire to be a great success, to be a match for my siblings, to be known amongst the people. But that is not my station. Those that have reached great heights did so through hard work and perseverance: we only reap what we sow.

And so I remind myself to be happy for my brothers and my sister, and just say this: “Let light guide my heart, not misplaced pride.” We all reap what we sow.