Aisha’s phone buzzed with another notification. URGENT: CLIENT MEETING MOVED TO 3 PM. She groaned, rubbing her temples. It was only the second day of Ramadan, and she already felt drained. Between back-to-back Zoom meetings, tight deadlines, and managing her home, her Qur’an remained untouched on the shelf.
She had started Ramadan with grand intentions—completing the Qur’an, praying extra sunnah, increasing dhikr—but reality was laughing in her face. She barely had time to eat before dashing to her laptop, and by the time the day ended, exhaustion pressed heavy on her bones.
Scrolling through social media absentmindedly during sahur, she paused at a post from an Islamic scholar:
“Ramadan is not about doing everything. It’s about doing what you can, consistently, with sincerity.”
Aisha sighed, staring at her untouched Qur’an beside the coffee maker. Maybe the problem wasn’t just her schedule. Perhaps she had never actually made a real plan.
That night, she brewed a cup of tea, grabbed her journal, and did what she did best at work—she strategized.
Reframing Ramadan
She started with a simple question: What truly matters in Ramadan? It wasn’t the elaborate expectations she had set for herself; it was the essence—fasting with sincerity, connecting with the Qur’an, protecting her prayers, increasing du’a, and spreading kindness through charity. If she could center these, then every other act of worship would be an addition, not a struggle.
At night, when exhaustion threatened to pull her into an early sleep, she reminded herself that taraweeh didn’t have to be all or nothing. Even if she couldn’t make it to the masjid, she could pray a few extra rak’ahs at home, her Qur’an open beside her, turning her small living room into her personal sanctuary.
Building a Ramadan That Fits Her Life
Instead of trying to force Ramadan into her work-heavy schedule, she decided to carve out intentional moments for worship. Fajr was non-negotiable, so she would pair it with quiet Qur’an recitation before the workday swallowed her focus. Instead of mindlessly scrolling through emails during lunch, she could listen to an audio Qur’an recitation or engage in silent dhikr, letting her fingers move over the prayer beads on her desk. The rush of the day usually left her drained by evening, so rather than waiting until the last minute to whisper a du’a before iftar, she would use the quiet moments leading up to Maghrib for deep reflection and supplication.
She needed to be realistic, not idealistic. Her job wouldn’t pause because it was Ramadan until she got an official leave for the last ten days for itikaf, and neither would her responsibilities at home. But that didn’t mean she had to choose between work and worship. She just had to weave her spirituality into the rhythm of her day.
She set up a daily charity transfer on bountiis.org, ensuring that even on days she forgot, her giving would continue. She placed sticky notes on her laptop, gentle reminders to whisper SubhanAllah, Alhamdulillah, Allahu Akbar between meetings. And instead of waiting for a “perfect moment” to read the Qur’an, she kept a small mushaf in her bag and an app on her phone, ready to read even if it was just a few verses at a time.
Ramadan wasn’t about grand gestures—it was about sincere, consistent effort.
Letting Go of the Guilt
Aisha exhaled as she closed her journal. She wouldn’t chase perfection this time. She wouldn’t drown in guilt if she missed a goal or struggled to keep up with her ibadah. She would do her best, and that would be enough.
She reached for her phone and typed a quick du’a in her notes, one she promised to whisper to herself every morning:
“Ya Allah, bless my time, my efforts, and my heart this Ramadan. Let me make the most of it, in the best way I can.”
And this time, she knew she would.
