About this Event
یا هو یا من هو هو، یا من لیس احدا الا هو
You're Invited to "One Boat, One Wave"An evening of movement, connection, and shared humanity
Dear friends,
As we grow up, there are stories—memories passed down by family and loved ones—that shape how we see the world and ourselves.
One of the most honest stories repeatedly shared with me from early childhood was that I wasn’t wanted. That I was an “oops.” My parents told me my mother’s hair salon was booming—women from all over the state lined up to see her—when she discovered she was pregnant with me. My father was working two jobs, one as a pharmacist and one as a driving instructor. They said there was no room in their lives for another child.
They planned to give me away to my aunt and her husband after birth. And they would have—if it weren’t for my older sister, who cried endlessly, begging my parents to keep me, promising to take care of me herself. That’s the only reason, I was told, that I stayed.
Later, during the Islamic Revolution, we were persecuted for our religion. We had to hide our beliefs to survive. Then came the war. My parents lost everything. We fled from the border into central Iran, where we were seen as outsiders—mismatched in culture and unwelcome.
At school, I was the heaviest child in class. I wasn’t picked for teams. I walked home alone. I was mocked, called names, and excluded.
At 19, I left Iran and immigrated to the United States as a refugee. I was told it was the “land of the free,” and I came searching for freedom—for the chance to be seen, heard, accepted, and loved for who I am.
And while this country has offered me much, I’ve also been reminded—subtly and not-so-subtly—that I’m Iranian, that I’m “different.”
Even in spiritual communities, I found cliques—inner circles of praise and power. Love, I realized, was sometimes reserved for the favored. Even the teachers and leaders, I saw, sometimes chose hierarchy over healing, exclusivity over inclusion.
But life is generous in its lessons. It keeps presenting us with the same stories, the same invitations—until we finally listen.
It took me over 40 years to understand this, but I no longer see myself as a victim. I am not alone. I am part of the whole, and the whole is part of me.And because I’ve longed for love and connection , I now give love. With all my heart.
“We are the community—each and every one of me.”I am a transformer. Today, I called Unima.
This is why I do what I do—with love, for unity, in inclusion.Because I know what it feels like to be left out. To feel unwanted, unheard, unseen.
And I am deeply honored by your love, your presence, and the way you’ve shared your own stories with me—many of which echo mine.
So, if this story resonates with you…I invite you to stand with me. To move together, feel together, be together.
Because talking isn’t enough—we have to do, together.
You’re invited to our home from 6:00 PM until midnight to dance, eat, play, and simply have fun!We’re capping this event at 60 beautiful souls, so please RSVP early and reserve your spot.
By reserving your ticket, you agree to arrive in the spirit of love, health, harmony, and non-harm. You also acknowledge that this is a private gathering in our home, and by attending, you agree to release us of legal responsibility.
For the same reason, Please note: one person per ticket.
This space is sacred—not because of rules, but because of the values we all bring: inclusion, presence, joy, and connection.
Please feel free to bring others—friends, strangers, even those we’ve struggled with—because we all want to be included in this game called life.
Take off your shoes and jump into our open arms.
With deep gratitude, I want to thank Anahita Masoumi (my wife🙏🏽❤️🙏🏽) for fully supporting me through this journey—and for standing beside all the work I’ve poured my heart into.
Let’s keep creating, transforming, and rising—together.
With all my love,Nima / Unima
See you soon my Loves
یا هو یا من هو هو، یا من لیس احدا الا هو
Event Venue & Nearby Stays
Our Home, 9916 Henry Hearn Way, Laurel, United States
USD 0.00
