Dr. Rose Aslan Coaching

Jumu’ah Mubarak!

After weeks of rain and storms here in Northern California, I’m soaking in the sunshine and feeling deep gratitude for the small things—fresh air, nature all around, and the simple joy of speaking English with everyone around me. Sometimes, it really is the little things that count.

It’s been about seven weeks since I moved to this small town in the Bay Area, and it’s beginning to feel like home. Living in a multi-generational household is new for me, but I’m learning to share space, lean into softness, and embrace the support of family.

As a single mother, I didn’t realize how much I needed that—how much I needed to not always be in survival mode.

And now, for a big announcement… Ramadan is coming!

I’m so excited to share that the Rahma Ramadan Circle is back for its third year. This healing-centered space is for Muslims who want to experience the sweetness of Ramadan—without shame, fear, or judgment.

Joining a community of like-minded people on a spiritual path seems more urgent than ever in a world that is falling apart and self-destructing in front of our eyes.

If you’ve been here before, you know how special this community is. If you’re new, I invite you to join us and experience it for yourself. This is what you can expect:

-Two live sessions a week
-A supportive, judgment-free online community
-Breathwork and somatic practices for ease
-A Ramadan grounded in rahma (compassion)

Tag a friend who might need this. Let’s step into Ramadan with love, ease, and intention.

Link below in comments.

Join the Rahma Community Soul Gathering this Sunday

*We’re tired, grieving, and maybe a bit anxious, but we're also hopeful and longing for the Divine.

*Witnessing genocides unfold before our eyes on our screens without much agency, dealing with everyday challenges of being a human with human problems - You're not alone!

*We thrive in a community among like-hearted people, so let’s gather

*We'll do some light breathwork and somatic practices.

* Bring your prayers, hope, movement, poetry, and other inspiring things these days, this will be a sharing circle, please bring glimpses of hope, compassion, peace, soothing, and prayer to share with others in the gathering.

* All seeking compassion in their lives are welcome; all souls are welcome!

* Free to join, but I’ll accept donations (100% of proceeds will go to Heal Palestine).

Sometimes, it seems that in this Dunya, the people who succeed (at least on the surface) are those most willing to compromise their ethics and morals.

Those who adhere to our God-centered values and principles and are motivated by care for others are struggling to make it in this Dunya.

Nothing makes sense from one perspective, but from a different perspective, it makes perfect sense.

When we lose hope and despair, we have only one source of solace and refuge. Only the Divine is Consistent, Eternal, and always there for us.

Even when nothing makes sense in this Dunya, when evil seems to prevail, the most Compassionate One is still here, amidst all of us.

If you followed my travels here in the summer, you might remember my posts about my stay in a Pomak village in Bulgaria.

An article I wrote about that experience just came out in Sacred Footsteps.

Check it out!

https://sacredfootsteps.com/2024/10/04/bulgarias-hidden-muslim-heritage/

It was my birthday on Sunday, and despite having to stay home while my little one and I battled a virus together, I still felt the love from so many of you here. My sincere thanks to all of you for your posts, texts, and calls, it means a lot to me. Especially because I only started celebrating my birthday two years ago after nearly 30 years of ignoring it due to reasons connected to past traumas.

I feel blessed that the weekend before, one of my dearest friends in Istanbul, Adina Simionescu Khalifa, hosted a surprise birthday party for me with our beloved Women’s Healing Circle. They secretly planned it on a WhatsApp group, and I had no idea.

When I showed up, expecting our usual gathering, I discovered that Adina had baked a vegan poppyseed cake topped with fresh fruit—a favourite of mine from childhood—and organised a couple of party activities. It was exactly what I didn’t know I needed: to feel cherished and celebrated within an intimate group of women.

Because it was raining heavily that day, instead of meeting at a park, we met at a nearby Sufi cafe/bookstore. They not only let us celebrate there but even treated us to a plate full of watermelon.

Another year wiser and closer to wherever it is I am headed...a human on a jourey, just a grain of sand on this massive planet, living for a moment in the course of the history of this universe.

While I am glad I now allow myself to take time to celebrate my birthday, I acknowledge it also feels bittersweet while I bear witness to genocides and natural disasters happening at a large scale all around.

Perhaps finding joy and things to celebrate is a small form of resistance in a global society that wants to keep us down, but I still find it hard to shake off the feeling that I’ll never be able to do enough or have enough impact in this world.

But I end with alhamdullilah, all praise be to the Divine, who gave me this one wild and precious life.

Will you join me to talk about my book on Zoom tomorrow hosted by the Muslim Writers’ Salon?

You're all invited!!!

Sign up here to attend: https://us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/tZwpceGorDopE9Pir-BFZ7uj6ebo09mn0fcB #/registratio'

The other day, I shared the news about my book. I am so grateful for all of your kind words and encouragement. It means a lot to me as someone who is working outside the establishment.

In some ways, I’ve done it alone, but in other ways, so many people have been cheering me on the entire way.

You all made it possible; however big or small your support was, I won’t forget it, and I appreciate you deeply.

Today, I wanted to share the acknowledgements I included at the beginning of the book. I will try and tag everyone who I’m FB friends who I thanked for supporting me in various ways to help me get to the finish line:

Completing this book took a village to support me over the years. I started writing this book in 2018 when I was still married and the mother of an active toddler working as an assistant professor.

During the time since then, I got divorced, became a solo parent, and got tenure and promotion. I went through several existential crises along the way. I later moved to Istanbul for my sabbatical, found healing in a slower life outside of academia, quit my job,
and became a transformational life coach and breathwork teacher.

I left behind several in-progress academic projects when I left academia as my interests and priorities changed. I may have abandoned this book project at times, but somehow, despite many distractions, I eventually completed this manuscript.

This book is my final legacy and contribution to academia, an abstract place and a community that both supported me over the years and caused me much harm and difficulties.

Completing this book has been a remarkable journey, and it wouldn’t have been possible without the unwavering support of so many incredible people and communities. Your encouragement and assistance have been the driving force behind this endeavor, and I’m deeply grateful for your presence
in my life.

I extend my heartfelt thanks to four individuals who played pivotal roles in helping me bring this book to fruition. Cia DeMartino, a former colleague at California Lutheran University (CLU), brought her expertise as a quantitative scholar to assist in conducting a comprehensive study of US Muslims
and analyzing the resulting data.

Carole Sargent, the director of scholarly publications at Georgetown University, played a vital role during my fellowship at the Prince Alwaleed Bin Talal Center for Muslim- Christian Understanding. Her mentorship boosted my confidence as an author and helped me navigate the initial stages of this project.

I am forever indebted to Kerry Ann Rockquemore, whose mentor-
ship has guided me from my early days as a faculty member. She kindled a burning passion within me, compelling me to tirelessly chase my dreams, thinking outside the box of academia, especially on the road less traveled.

My gratitude also extends to the members of her extraordinary support community, the Joy Collective, who provided invaluable support and accountability throughout this book’s journey and much more.

Rick Colby from the University of Oregon came through at a crucial juncture, providing invaluable support to push this project across the finish line and submit it to the editor. His kindness and generosity have inspired me to pay it forward as he has done with me.

I’ve had the privilege of sharing this writing journey with numerous amazing individuals, both in person and virtually. I’d like to express my gratitude to those who spent substantial time writing alongside me and offering mutual writing support: Najeeba Syeed, Leila Barmaki, Roshan Iqbal, Katie Merriman, Farzana Gardee, Ben Atherton-Zeman, and Nausheen Eusuf.

Writing with random strangers worldwide through Focusmate was also a delightful way to connect briefly and maintain focus.

The Office of Sponsored Research and Projects at CLU, particularly Kelly Owens and Roni Hooper, provided invaluable time and resources to apply for grants.

Although I’ve moved on from CLU and academia in general, my former colleagues at the Department of Religion and Theology and other faculty and staff at CLU hold a special place in my heart. They supported me immensely during my authors’ journey and beyond; I especially thank Julia Fogg, Lisa Dahill, Colleen Windham-Hughes, Peter Carlson, Victor Thasiah, and Sam Thomas.

I received several grants over the past years while employed at CLU to support my writing, including a Hewlett Grant from CLU and the Islam on the Edges Research Grant from the Center for Islam in the Contemporary World (CICW), thanks to Ermin Sinanovic and Younus Y. Mirza for their support.

Additionally, working on a parallel online exhibit about the soundscape of US Muslim prayer practices with the American Religious Sounds Project through Ohio State University helped me infuse the book project with a renewed sense of enthusiasm and a visual and audio component.

Right before my book came out, I received generous financial support from The Cherry Street Mosque of Seattle, a legacy of Drs. Ann Paxton and Mohammad El-Moslimany, to cover the cost of compiling the index. I am also grateful to Samia Ann El Moslimany for facilitating this grant and for stepping up to assist with editing the cover photo.

I benefited from the gentle coaching and support from Laura Holliday and T. Berkeley Goodloe at the Academic Writer’s Studio.

I also want to thank Rada Radojicic, project editor for humanities at Oxford University Press, for always being prompt in her responses and patient as we worked together to finalize my book, and Balaji Padmanaban, project manager at Newgen KnowledgeWorks, who was meticulous in keeping me on track with the many tasks and deadlines associated with publishing a book.

To my dear friends, near and far, you know who you are, thank you for your beautiful presence and for holding space for me during many of the ups and downs of life’s journey. Your unwavering support means the world to me.

I thank my father for always supporting me to follow my dreams and goals, however different they are from his path.

Finally, I express my deepest love and gratitude to my delightful and compassionate son, IssHaq, my forever person, whose presence and frequent interruptions reminded me of the importance of life’s simple pleasures.

Your tickle-hugs and laughter provided inspiration and joy throughout this process.

Alhamdullilah...

It’s official—I’m a published author! I’ve finally received my own copy of the book.

Come celebrate with me at my book launch hosted by the Muslim Writers’ Salon on Zoom on Sunday, September 22, 10:30am LA/1:30pm NYC/6:30pm London/8:30pm Istanbul (Link to sign up in comments).

It’s the culmination of my academic journey, a final legacy from my time in academia. I’ll never write another book like it, full of hundreds upon hundreds of citations and page-long paragraphs.

I acknowledge the weight of the times we live in, and while it’s hard to celebrate amidst global challenges, this is a moment of personal joy I’d like to share.

But please allow me to celebrate a bit. From book proposal to hard copy in hands, it took exactly six years of my life. Some years, I barely looked at it, while other years, I gave it hundreds of hours of my time.

Muslim Prayer in American Life, published by Oxford University Press; make sure to say the “Oxford” in the fancy way.

Here’s the bio you’ll find on the cover:

Rose Aslan is an independent scholar. Her areas of expertise include sacred space, material culture, ritual, and pilgrimage in medieval and contemporary Islamicate contexts. She was formerly an Associate Professor of Global Islam and Religion at California Lutheran University. She now works as a healing-centered transformational life coach and breathwork practitioner.

Author bios in academic books are usually formal—listing research interests and academic titles—but I no longer work in academia. After some back-and-forth, I managed to include a mention of my current professional non-academic trajectory. It feels like a small act of disruption, pushing back against expectations of conformity in academia.

When I have more time, I’d love to share more about the experience of writing this book—less about its content, more about the journey. I’ll start by sharing some excerpts soon.

I started this book proposal the summer I left my ex-husband. Over the years, I balanced writing with adapting to life as a single mom, facing multiple crises amidst constant burn out. Yet, in the midst of these struggles, I often plodded away on this book.

At one point, I thought the book might help me land a better job, one that would keep my bank account from hitting zero each month. I did get another job offer along the way, but I turned it down. Now, I no longer need the book to do anything for me. Instead, it represents my contribution to both academia and the U.S. Muslim community.

This book is about my fellow Muslim Americans and how they navigate the challenges of carrying out their ritual practices in American public life. I hope they will see their lives and issues represented accurately and transparently. And for those in positions of influence—HR professionals, educators, politicians—I hope it serves as a guide for creating more accommodating and inclusive environments for U.S. Muslims.

August 10, 2018, I'll never forget because that is the date I chose freedom for myself. Yesterday, while on the road, I celebrated my sixth anniversary of liberating myself from living under someone else's shadow.

The last day on that hot and humid August day was the hardest. I had already told him I was leaving him and taking my son back to California with me. I counted the days and hours until our flight when I could finally breathe.
We remained under one roof for most of that summer in 2018. By then he had already moved across the country to take a job. Living apart was already breath of fresh air for me. I had told him I would give him one last chance before making my final decision.

It soon became apparent that there was only one way forward - divorce.

On that fateful day, I packed the bags for my then four-year-old son and myself and waited with anticipation to see if my soon-to-be ex-husband would drive us to the airport for our flight. We weren't speaking much, and the tension was so high that it buzzed everywhere in his cramped basement apartment in Georgetown.

When it was time, he brought the car around, and we got in. I had no idea what would happen or how he would be, so I was anxious and scared. I don't remember why I didn't just take a taxi, but I guess I wanted to let him say goodbye to his son.

During the short drive to the airport in Virginia, he didn't say much except when he suggested multiple times that I speak to his "shaykh" on the phone to hear him out. By then, I had already seen through the lies and deception of the "shaykh" and refused to speak to or "hear him out" ever again. He had hurt me enough; I had heard enough of his placations and lies. I stood my ground and refused to speak to that man.

When we arrived at the airport, he hesitated momentarily. I got out of the car, holding my son's hand. I let him say goodbye and walked towards the entrance for departures.

I never looked back once. It was over. I passed through the most challenging threshold. I regained my freedom.

Those early years of being alone after leaving my ex were some of the hardest in my life. But my taste of freedom was too delicious ever to give it up. The taste became more refined with each passing year, and I began to expand my palate with more various flavors and spices.
It has been six long years, although it might as well be a lifetime ago. I've shaken him out of my system and went through a pretty intensive detox process to rid myself of his energy.

Am I healed? I might be nearly there, although many scars remain. They are scattered over my body, but they're only surface-deep. I know that I've gone through an intense internal alchemical process since that time, and I am not the same person as when I was with him.

Never again will I allow a man or anyone else to control me or violate my boundaries. Never again.

I met my ex-husband when I was an undergraduate student. I was so young and vulnerable. During the years I knew and married him, I handed over my entire autonomy and agency to him. He controlled many of my thoughts, my movements, and my freedom.

I've never publicly spoken about the details of my marriage (except for a recent interview several days ago with "And She Thrived," I'll share the link). Much of it is too painful to share and doesn't make logical sense.

Explaining the unexplainable would require me to indulge readers in vast amounts of labor, so I'll leave that for another time, if at all.

How can I even begin to explain how a young and naive American woman, thousands of miles away from her home, was able to be brainwashed, groomed, and then manipulated into marriage with a man who was quite a bit older with the help of his "Sufi shaykh." Someone from the other side of the world, with nothing in common with me at all?

How did it happen? It isn't straightforward, and I don't have the capacity to explain it here.

But did it happen? Yes, it did. It happened to me, a woman raised in a liberal, feminist home in San Francisco. It happened to a girl who wanted to get married in her 30s, if at all, and who never stopped pursuing her dreams despite everything.

What happened to me can happen to any woman, regardless of her environment, education level, or other factors.

Who is more likely to end up in an abusive marriage? A woman who doesn't have much family support, who doesn't have enough close friends to look out for her, one who is looking for her way and whose imagination is full of legends of the old that she hopes to find in the modern world, and of course one who has experienced abuse in her childhood and experienced living in an unsafe home.

One or more women you know are likely in this sort of relationship. They might say alarming things about their husband or situation, but you don't know what to say. You also know that it would be hard to convince her to leave the marriage because of the codependent nature of the marriage.

Having grown up primarily in a single-mother home that was unsafe and volatile, I always knew that I felt safer with my dad, but I didn't get to see him as much as I would have liked.

I didn't have models of what healthy relationships looked like. I figured that being treated like s**t by the person who was supposed to love and protect me the most was normal.

So when I entered into a marriage with someone who treated me the same way I experienced growing up, I ended up staying for a very long time because I didn't know there were better options. I really didn't.

I don't know how to explain it except that when I met him, we didn't talk about mental health, self-care, and abuse in the same ways we do now. It was the early 2000s; there was no social media, Google was in its infancy, and we were simpler back then.

If I had had social media back then as I do now, it could have helped me identify red flags in this man so I could have walked away. It's very possible. In my discussions with Gen Z, raised on this approach, I see unprecedented awareness about these issues.

Anyway, all of this is to say that since that day six years ago, I've remained grateful for the expansive sense of liberation I've been given.
Six long years that included countless dark nights of the soul, soul-wrecking panic and anxiety, a lot of mess and crying. Six long years that have given me more expansion than I could ever imagine in my life. Alhamdullilah.

If you've read this far, thank you for reading. If you're a woman in this sort of marriage or relationship, remember you do have options, and you don't have to put up with a life that drains you and makes you feel shut off from the rest of the world.

Photo taken on August 11, 2018, the day after returning back to California. I was still in shock that I was “free” and sought the support of a dear friend and her family.

The last day on that hot and humid August day was the hardest. I had already told him I was leaving him and taking my son back to California with me. I counted the days and hours until our flight when I could finally breathe.
We remained under one roof for most of that summer in 2018. By then he had already moved across the country to take a job. Living apart was already breath of fresh air for me. I had told him I would give him one last chance before making my final decision.

It soon became apparent that there was only one way forward - divorce.

On that fateful day, I packed the bags for my then four-year-old son and myself and waited with anticipation to see if my soon-to-be ex-husband would drive us to the airport for our flight. We weren't speaking much, and the tension was so high that it buzzed everywhere in his cramped basement apartment in Georgetown.

When it was time, he brought the car around, and we got in. I had no idea what would happen or how he would be, so I was anxious and scared. I don't remember why I didn't just take a taxi, but I guess I wanted to let him say goodbye to his son.

During the short drive to the airport in Virginia, he didn't say much except when he suggested multiple times that I speak to his "shaykh" on the phone to hear him out. By then, I had already seen through the lies and deception of the "shaykh" and refused to speak to or "hear him out" ever again. He had hurt me enough; I had heard enough of his placations and lies. I stood my ground and refused to speak to that man.

When we arrived at the airport, he hesitated momentarily. I got out of the car, holding my son's hand. I let him say goodbye and walked towards the entrance for departures.

I never looked back once. It was over. I passed through the most challenging threshold. I regained my freedom.

Those early years of being alone after leaving my ex were some of the hardest in my life. But my taste of freedom was too delicious ever to give it up. The taste became more refined with each passing year, and I began to expand my palate with more various flavors and spices.
It has been six long years, although it might as well be a lifetime ago. I've shaken him out of my system and went through a pretty intensive detox process to rid myself of his energy.

Am I healed? I might be nearly there, although many scars remain. They are scattered over my body, but they're only surface-deep. I know that I've gone through an intense internal alchemical process since that time, and I am not the same person as when I was with him.

Never again will I allow a man or anyone else to control me or violate my boundaries. Never again.

I met my ex-husband when I was an undergraduate student. I was so young and vulnerable. During the years I knew and married him, I handed over my entire autonomy and agency to him. He controlled many of my thoughts, my movements, and my freedom.

I've never publicly spoken about the details of my marriage (except for a recent interview several days ago with "And She Thrived," I'll share the link). Much of it is too painful to share and doesn't make logical sense.

Explaining the unexplainable would require me to indulge readers in vast amounts of labor, so I'll leave that for another time, if at all.

How can I even begin to explain how a young and naive American woman, thousands of miles away from her home, was able to be brainwashed, groomed, and then manipulated into marriage with a man who was quite a bit older with the help of his "Sufi shaykh." Someone from the other side of the world, with nothing in common with me at all?

How did it happen? It isn't straightforward, and I don't have the capacity to explain it here.

But did it happen? Yes, it did. It happened to me, a woman raised in a liberal, feminist home in San Francisco. It happened to a girl who wanted to get married in her 30s, if at all, and who never stopped pursuing her dreams despite everything.

What happened to me can happen to any woman, regardless of her environment, education level, or other factors.

Who is more likely to end up in an abusive marriage? A woman who doesn't have much family support, who doesn't have enough close friends to look out for her, one who is looking for her way and whose imagination is full of legends of the old that she hopes to find in the modern world, and of course one who has experienced abuse in her childhood and experienced living in an unsafe home.

One or more women you know are likely in this sort of relationship. They might say alarming things about their husband or situation, but you don't know what to say. You also know that it would be hard to convince her to leave the marriage because of the codependent nature of the marriage.

Having grown up primarily in a single-mother home that was unsafe and volatile, I always knew that I felt safer with my dad, but I didn't get to see him as much as I would have liked.

I didn't have models of what healthy relationships looked like. I figured that being treated like s**t by the person who was supposed to love and protect me the most was normal.

So when I entered into a marriage with someone who treated me the same way I experienced growing up, I ended up staying for a very long time because I didn't know there were better options. I really didn't.

I don't know how to explain it except that when I met him, we didn't talk about mental health, self-care, and abuse in the same ways we do now. It was the early 2000s; there was no social media, Google was in its infancy, and we were simpler back then.

If I had had social media back then as I do now, it could have helped me identify red flags in this man so I could have walked away. It's very possible. In my discussions with Gen Z, raised on this approach, I see unprecedented awareness about these issues.

Anyway, all of this is to say that since that day six years ago, I've remained grateful for the expansive sense of liberation I've been given.
Six long years that included countless dark nights of the soul, soul-wrecking panic and anxiety, a lot of mess and crying. Six long years that have given me more expansion than I could ever imagine in my life. Alhamdullilah.

If you've read this far, thank you for reading. If you're a woman in this sort of marriage or relationship, remember you do have options, and you don't have to put up with a life that drains you and makes you feel shut off from the rest of the world.

💨 Preaching and Practicing the Gospel of the Breath! 💨

Why am I so passionate about breathwork? Because it's a powerful tool that everyone has at their disposal! 🌼

Breath = Life

However, most of us haven't learned to truly harness its power. Here's what you can gain from connecting with your breath, and especially Sufi breathwork:

🌺 Self-Compassion: Learn to talk to yourself and treat yourself with gentleness.

🪷 Divine Reflection: Reflect the compassionate nature of the Divine in your daily interactions.

🌿 Well-being Practices: Adopt tools and practices to improve your well-being, reduce stress and anxiety, and feel more grounded.

Join our workshop for an enriching experience rooted in Sufi wisdom. 🍃

🔹 What to Expect:

Centuries-old breathwork techniques from Sufi traditions.

Practices to bring intention, awareness, and mindfulness of the Divine into your life.

A transformative journey to better connect with your body and spirit.

Embrace the power of your breath and unlock a new level of mindfulness and inner peace! 🌙

Sign up for the workshop and get a taste!

Dr. Rose Aslan coaching Join us for a journey of the soul and body to journey into Sufi breathwork. This workshop is designed to guide you through some basic practices of breathing techniques inspired by Sufi teachings and practices, helping you connect deeply with your inner self and the Divine.