Founder of Productive Muslim, author, and international speaker on Islamic productivity.
19 articles published
I want to propose seven dimensions through which we can measure and increase the weight of our time. Think of these as seven scales nested within each other, from the smallest unit of time to the largest: the moment, the hour, the day, the week, the month, the year, and the lifetime.
I asked our Barakah Effect course students to practice a simple exercise. Before every action, they needed to pause and ask themselves, “How can I please Allah SWT through this?”
When life throws you a curveball, don’t just focus on solving the immediate problem. Step back and reconnect with your deeper intention. Let that intention be your Qibla, guiding you through whatever storms lie ahead.
When you feel powerless as an individual, your community network is what will put you back on your feet. But this only works if you’ve invested before you need it, especially with your family and local community.
I see boredom for someone sincerely trying to get closer to Allah as a stretch of ‘dryland’ between two spiritual oases. The first oasis was when they first tasted the sweetness of that worship. When Salah felt deep, when fasting brought clarity, when dhikr filled their heart with calm. The second oasis is the deeper level of worship waiting for them if they push through the dryness with consistency and sincerity..
I wrote about ‘ajz, that feeling when you want to do good but feel powerless to act. Today, I want to explore its close cousin: kasal (laziness). While ‘ajz is “I want to, but I can’t,” kasal is “I want to, but I just don’t feel like it.”
A productive Salah helps us become better versions of ourselves: spiritually, physically, and socially. A productive Salah doesn’t just fulfill an obligation; it transforms your day and life.
‘Ajz is often translated as “deficiency” or “incapacity,” but these translations barely capture what this feeling really means. It’s not kasal (laziness); when you’re lazy, you want to do something but don’t feel like it. ‘Ajz is when you want to act but feel utterly powerless to do so, whether due to personal circumstances (lack of money, time, resources) or external barriers (politics, distance, systemic limitations).
As I held my pen, I wondered: in an age where AI can write entire books in hours, what makes human writing uniquely valuable? And how do we honor the sacred act of writing while engaging with these powerful new tools?
The genius of Islam is that it gives us spiritual seasons to remind us of our purpose in life: Ramadan forces us to slow down. The five daily prayers create mandatory pauses. And these ten days of Dhul-Hijjah? They’re asking us to step off the hamster wheel and witness the sacredness of these days and the year’s greatest event: The Hajj.
Your life’s purpose isn’t self-actualization. Your life’s purpose is to worship Allah. Don’t let any self-help book or guru convince you otherwise.
The Quran and Sunnah don’t treat these as mere superstitions. Allah SWT commands us to seek refuge from “the evil of the envier when he envies” (Quran 113:5), and Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said: “The evil eye is real. If anything could overtake the divine decree, it would be the evil eye.” (Muslim) Yet many of us dismiss these spiritual realities as “superstitious” or “old tales,” especially professionals trying to “fit in” with secular workplaces. I want us to understand this topic from a balanced perspective. There are usually two extremes: those obsessed and anxious about “nazar” and being envied, and those who dismiss such claims and expose themselves to the harm of the evil eye.
If you’ve been struggling to focus at work, have meaningful connections with people, or feeling distant from Allah SWT, it’s time to check your spiritual heart and ask yourself if you’ve opened the floodgates of your eyes to soak in everything it sees without a filter.
Most planning systems focus on what you want to achieve. Hijri calendar planning starts with why you want to achieve it. This approach emphasizes aligning your goals with spiritual intentions, using the Islamic calendar to foster a deeper connection with your faith throughout the year.
Our Ummah is filled with incredible souls who have life-changing insights, hard-earned wisdom, and transformative experiences. Yet most of these voices remain silent, their potential books trapped forever in their minds. Let me share something that might surprise you: writing a book isn’t just about becoming an author, it’s about crystallizing your thoughts, deepening your understanding, and creating sadaqah jariyah (ongoing charity) of beneficial knowledge that continues benefiting people long after you’re gone.
Alhamdulillah, we are blessed as Muslims to have the five daily prayers that help us pause in the middle of our busy lives and turn to our Creator. But sadly, many of us rush through them trying to catch up with life. The irony is that we rush through our meeting with our Creator, Who has control over everything in our lives, to hurry towards meetings with people or tasks that only Allah can facilitate in the first place! The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ spoke directly about this issue. In a hadith narrated by Abu Hurairah, the Prophet ﷺ noticed a man praying in a hurried manner. He said to him, “Go back and pray, for you have not prayed.” This happened three times, until the man said, “Teach me, O Messenger of Allah.” The Prophet ﷺ then explained, “When you stand for prayer, perform wudu properly, then face the qibla and say takbir. Then recite what you can from the Quran, then bow until you feel at ease in ruku’, then rise until you are standing straight, then prostrate until you feel at ease in prostration…” (Bukhari)
Time wasn’t “precise” – divided into 24 hours, each hour 60 minutes, and each minute 60 seconds. It was more free-flowing, more natural. Below is a description of how Muslim societies organized their time from a book called “Time Sticks”: How Islam and Other Cultures Have Measured Time by Dr. Barbara Freyer Stowasser:
To Allah belongs what He takes, and to Him belongs what He gives, and everything has its time. When someone dies, we often reflect on their legacy and the life lessons they parted with us. And alhamdulillah, I learned so much from my dad – especially his mannerisms and kind conduct with people. However, in this article, I wanted to reflect on his death. I learned so much in this last year from him and the dying process that I want to capture these lessons firstly for myself and my family and secondly impart beneficial knowledge to any child or caregiver as they care for a dying parent, spouse, relative, or friend: