Spirited Woman Blogger Team

Guest Blogger - Sadia Qazi - How The Spirited Woman Has Touched Me

Sadia Qazi, a young woman in Pakistan, came to my attention because she left a comment on our Spirited Woman Blog that literally made me weep, the writing was that beautiful and heartfelt. So I reached out to her and asked if she would write a series of guest blogs for us having no idea of her enornous struggles. In her first post Wings of a Butterfly, she wrote about losing everything, but also realizing that she had everything. In this her second post, we featured her original comment. In this, her final post, she writes about how finding our "Spirited Woman" community helped turn her life around. We love you Sadia.

Sometimes it just takes a moment for miracles to happen but you have to be willing and ready to take it. In life there are certain times when all roads seem to lead to a dead end and all the winds of the world are blowing against you, but being ‘alive’ means being able to move forward in-spite of the ruthless winds. My life faced a similar turn of fate. And at that moment of anguish when I was losing the battle of self composure, I found a light house. That lighthouse was THE SPIRITED WOMAN.

That was the time when I was rejected for the promotion in the bank stating that the new position is only for the male employees and is out of question for a woman to do the demanding and sensitive job. The workplace pressure was straining my mind when I was deceived by a friend I trusted more than my life. And not that my faith in trust was broken, that friend became a fiend determined to destroy me. Just a small difference of alphabet of ‘r’ turned the tables on me. But my pride was too high to share my agony with anyone.

I started to loose my self like an agravic object without any will, without any course. My soul was cracked and my pieces started to fall off my soul. I was in need of some miracle to guide me and a candle to alight me with a new spirit.

I opened my web browser and wrote the words "spirited woman." I wanted to raise my spirit high and just hoped may be I can find some poetry or blog or anything that could be my firefly in the darkest hour. Like a marvel, I landed on the page of "THE SPIRITED WOMAN." Opening that page spelled me with a new hope that touched me with love and inspiration.

Guest Blogger - Sadia Qazi - I am Precious and I Can Make a Difference

Sadia Qazi, a young woman in Pakistan, came to my attention because she left a comment on our Spirited Woman Blog that literally made me weep, the writing was that beautiful and heartfelt. So I reached out to her and asked if she would write a series of guest blogs for us having no idea of her enornous struggles. In her first post Wings of a Butterfly, she wrote about losing everything, but also realizing that she had everything. In this her second blog, I am featuring her original comment, including her poem, the one that brought tears to my eyes and my soul. Nancy

I am a spirited woman because I believe in me... I believe I am precious and I can make a difference.. I have stood firm in harsh winds and I have raised my flags when all hopes were down... I am a fighter and I battle in my life with hope in my faith, love in my heart and contentment and positiveness in my soul... I believe I am a spirited woman because I have also inspired women around me to raise their spirits high in the trying times.

I wrote a poem for International Women's Day this year and presented it in a seminar..

Spirited Woman
I was broken and beaten,
Engulfed in bondage and pain.
Wrecked in shackles of flames
Mere symbol of beauty and vain
I was a phantom no one could fathom,
I was a book, no one read.
Putative as what, I was meant to be
Living a life,
And my soul was dead.
Courage to be myself,
Was not easy.
Standing upfront,
With my heart so creasy.
Despite the atrocious wicked crowd,
I raised my voice,
High and loud.
I dared to dream and took a stand.
With a leap of faith and grip of hand.
Dreamt of dancing with the cool breeze
Absorbing hues from the rainbow stream
Singing a song with my heartbeat
Envisaging a trumpet of my feat
And Finally,
I broke the chains that held me tight,

Guest Blogger - Sadia Qazi - The Wings of the Butterfly

Sadia Qazi, a young woman in Pakistan, came to my attention because she left a comment on our Spirited Woman Blog that literally made me weep, the writing was that beautiful and heartfelt. I asked her if she would write a series of guest blogs for us having no idea of her enormous struggles - even though I recognized her unstoppable spirit. This is the first in her series of three. After losing everything, she came to realize she had everything. Nancy Mills

In life, the best of our hope is our inner-strength. When all the odds are against us, it is vital to keep our spirits agile and vivacious. And we are in the midst of a constant battle in our lives whether that is financial security or relationship knots.

Two years back, it was the first year of my marriage and I went on living with my husband in the small city of Nowshehra, Pakistan. It was the monsoon and the day of my birthday when the water barricades fell down and the city was engulfed by the fifteen feet high water flood.

The horrors of the drowning houses and being rescued were enough to give nightmares. The verve of water left us with nothing. The house with all our belongings was dust and mud. I had collected pretty dresses and decorating items and households for the start of a new home, my new life. But nothing was left and that was a time to start the life from scratch again.

My husband was distraught at the grave reality but no one understood the very concept of starting from  scratch literally. I knew I had to step up. I didn’t shed a tear because I knew I have to be strong. My husband, who was never willing to let me be a working woman, helped me set up my little fashion designing venture. I initiated with customized orders and designing for various freelance graphic projects.

The strength in me was my faith. I had believed that there is no problem greater than we can bear and I can make it.

My inspiration and source of vigor was a small incident. Earlier, the day of the flood it all occurred. I saw a butterfly in my garden fluttering its wings trying to move forward despite the harsh winds. It moved forward and was shoved back many paces by the wind. It mustered its resolve and moved forward again. I watched it until the butterfly flew off the backyard.