Spiritual Intelligence: Ramadan

Salaam and Ramadan Mubarak!

Many Muslims are not excited about Ramadan. They don't have a pep in their step. They're not jumping festively screaming "RAMADAN MUBARAK". In fact, many of my clients tend be anxious before Ramadan, and I know that feeling all too well.

For years, Ramadan was a month of focus and excelling in worship. I had a Qur'an completion schedule. I used a spreadsheet to track my prayers. I had a list of du'as organized by category. I prayed Tarawih nightly at the mosque, etc. While there is nothing wrong with excelling in worship, the problems began to emerge when it became more about the "worship checklist" and less about the essence of worship.

In hindsight, I was performing Ramadan instead of living it.

That's what gives my client anxiety. The anticipation of another "performative Ramadan". We watch other people plan iftars, or pray 20 raka'a, or finish the Qur'an multiple times and we think "I should do that as well", "I should worship more". "I should..." opens the door to that feeling of never doing enough. Of never being enough.

We often confuse the desire to do more with ambition or piety or a desire to get closer to God, when in fact that feeling stems from capitalism slowly seeping into our spirituality.

Here is the spiritually intelligent reframe:

Ramadan is not a productivity contest. Instead, it's an invitation to connect and experience proximity to God. This invitation is addressed to you. Not a hypothetical "better" version of you. Not to the the person you think you "should" be by now, but to you, exactly as you are today.

The Capitalist Hijacking of The Month of the Qur'an

As I mentioned in last week's newsletter, we live in a world obsessed with measuring everything: output, efficiency, ROI, etc. And somewhere along the way, we imported that logic into our spiritual practices. Now we treat Ramadan like a fiscal quarter with KPIs. Finish the Qur'an. Pray X rak'as. Attend every Tarawih. Give Y amount to charity. Check the boxes. Report the numbers. Close the books and move on to the next quater once Eid is here.

I used to approach Ramadan like a game of PacMan, frantically collecting blessings before the timer ran out, only to crash on Eid night. That "crash" is the result of projecting capitalistic thinking to Allah's Infinite Mercy: treat blessings as a finite resource, hoard as many as you can, maximize output before the "sale season" ends.

But Ramadan was never meant to be a sale season. Ramadan, with its blessings multiplied, is meant to be a catalyst for connection. Yes, Allah offers so many "incentives" to turn toward Him during Ramadan but they are meant as encouragement to begin putting one foot in front of the other on the path towards His Mercy.

There is nothing wrong is tightening our focus during Ramadan. But the point of working less, being more selective about our professional and social commitments, etc is to create space, and in an anti-capitalistic, sense we don't need to fill that space with mindless worship. We want to allow those spaces to remain open to let Allah's Mercy enter our lives - in whatever form He Decrees.

The Prophet ﷺ told us that a person who stands in prayer during Laylatul Qadr with faith and hoping for reward will have their past sins forgiven. He did not say the person who stood the longest. He did not say the person who read the most. He said the person who stood with faith and hope. We need that space to cultivate a state of faith and hope. That's the work.

Join 3500+ Muslims as we create a private community off of Big Tech surveillance platforms. Every Thursday, I go live to discuss a practical topic around spirituality and success. This week's topic was the power of a "slow and stead" Ramadan.

Learn more

Islam is Not Just for The Righteous

There are people reading this right now who feel nothing when the crescent moon is sighted. People who scroll past the "Ramadan Mubarak" posts with a quiet numbness. People for whom this month carries the weight of every previous Ramadan they felt they "wasted", and who have quietly concluded that they are simply not the kind of Muslim for whom this month works.

Women carry this especially. Expected to cook, host, entertain, and maintain the warmth of communal iftars while somehow also having a deep spiritual experience.

And then there are those who are just... broken right now. Struggling with faith. Struggling with life. Struggling with watching a genocide unfold. Those who see the social celebration of Ramadan and feel alienation instead of inclusion. As if the month was designed for people in better spiritual shape than they are.

If you're feeling that way right now, know that Ramadan is for you too. It was always for you.

The people who found Allah (truly found Him) did not find Him while performing perfection. They found Him on their knees. They found Him with wet eyes and shattered hearts. They found Him lost at sea, with nothing left to hold onto. The broken heart is not a barrier to Allah's Mercy. In many cases, it is the very door through which His mercy enters.

"Say: O my Servants who have transgressed against themselves! Despair not of the Mercy of Allah: for Allah forgives all sins." [39:53]

Islam isn't just for the righteous.

It is equally for the broken, the lost, the sinner, the depressed, the addict, the drunk, the abused, the betrayed, the misunderstood, the outcast. If Islam was for perfectly righteous people, then it wouldn't have a single adherent.

Losing the Joy for Ramadan

One of the quietest ways we sabotage ourselves is by trying to worship the way other people worship. We see someone crying during prayer and feel guilty we are not as connected. We see someone waking up for tahajjud, and berate ourselves when we can't do the same. We watch someone donating $30,000 at the fundraiser, and feel sad we can't match that. Allah warns of this in the Qur'an:

"And do not wish for that by which Allah has made some of you exceed others... And ask Allah of His bounty." [4:32]

Comparison really is the their of joy. By imposing someone else's definition of devotion on ourselves we effectively rob ourselves from the joy of Ramadan.

Allah is Infinite, and there are infinite paths to his mercy. What matters isn't always the means (prayer, Qur'an, etc) but the sincerity. A lot of Ramadan has become performative grand gestures: the nightly Taraweeh in crowded mosques, feeding 100s at an iftar, making Umrah during the final 10 nights, etc. Hwoever, unlike Hollywood romcoms, we don't need grand gestures to connect with Allah. We need sincere ones. One mindful rak'a, fully present, fully aware of who you are standing before, that is worth more than twenty mechanical ones completed in the service of a number you wanted to reach.

What Ramadan Is Actually For

The question I want you to sit with this month is not "how much can I do?" It is: who do I want to become when Ramadan is over?

Ramadan is not a destination. It is a the catalyst to start the journey towards Allah. The 30 days are not the point, they are the "bootcamp" that make transformation during the rest of the year a possibility. The reduced appetite, the structured schedule, the communal intention, the remembrance woven through the day, these create an environment in which it becomes slightly easier to hear yourself, to hear Allah, to notice what you actually need rather than what the world keeps telling you to want.

That transformation cannot happen if you spend the month frantically executing a plan you borrowed from someone else's highlight reel. It can only happen if you slow down enough to be present. To enjoy the fragrance of the month rather than racing through it. To revel in the beauty of the Qur'an without needing to conquer it.

Come as you are. The sad and the lonely. The anxious and the uncertain. The one who hasn't prayed in months and the one who has never missed a prayer. The strong and the shaken. The certain and the lost. Come as you are, and do what you are able, and try to do a little more in the last ten days. Allow room for stillness... allow room for Allah's Mercy to enter your life.

That is Ramadan. Not the performance. The presence.

This year, let the goal be sustainable connection with Allah. Habits you can carry into Shawwal and Dhul Hijjah and every ordinary Tuesday for the rest of the year. Not the spiritual binge and crash, but the quiet, deepening practice of someone who has chosen, consistently and imperfectly, to keep returning to Him.

All you have to do is call. Just as you are.

May Allah's peace be with you. 🤲✨

James