It's that time of year again. Break out the prayer mats, bring out the tamar (dates), dilute the Vimto - to just the right consistency - play around with your bedtime routine and make sure (most important of all) that you have plenty of family and friends around. Ramadan is here, my favourite month. To an outsider, Ramadan is one of two things: either four weeks of tough deprivation or a month-long, post-sunset feasting bonanza. While there might be a bit of truth in both those interpretations, they don't tell the whole story.
Ramadan is not just intended to be a fast from food and drink, but also one of the mind, eyes, ears and mouth. For half a day, people who are fasting are supposed to use self-control to focus their minds away from the hunger or thirst and become introspective. Your time is supposed to be focused to its maximum potential on spirituality and in thinking about religion and life, and how to improve your relationship with God and with members of your community.
When we break away from our usual habits, when we aren't idling in front of our computers or television sets, or eating mindlessly throughout the day, we are forced to think about why we do such things. To me, the idea has always been to think about alternative ways I could use my time and then to apply that throughout the year, because Ramadan is supposed to teach us habits that we carry with us. It's about realising that there are some things you can do without, such as smoking, and things that you should continue to do, such as investing some time every day into your religion and spirituality.
Although I believe that religion is a personal experience, it bothers me to hear people say, "OK, no more this or that for a month, but we'll get back to it soon." Ramadan is supposed to cleanse you of those bad habits, not put them on hold. Particularly among the younger generation, I think the basic spiritual factors of Ramadan get lost through indulgence in the huge iftars with family, staying up till dawn, and enjoying the Ramadan tents full of delicious food and shisha. Some people start sleeping all day only to be out all night.
But Ramadan is about being able to navigate your normal life with the added pressure of the fast so you can learn to deal with everyday situations from a different perspective. It's natural to be a bit grumpy and tired when you haven't eaten all day, but can you still manage to interact with co-workers and family members in a respectful way? Fasting should never be used as a crutch. Perhaps having had to celebrate most of my Ramadans in non-Muslim countries has given me a different perspective. Whether I was in Paris or New York, Muslims from all backgrounds would come together and try to recreate the Ramadan atmosphere of home.
I, too, am guilty of some of the gluttonous behaviour that comes with iftars and suhoors, and the festive post-maghreb spirit, but it's important that we emphasise that this isn't the point of the experience. I know other people who take it to the opposite extreme, turning Ramadan into a hyper-religious experience where any deviation is viewed as blasphemous. We need to map out a middle ground, because Islam is a religion of compromise.
So I urge people, especially of my generation, to go out and see your friends and family in the true Ramadan spirit, but head out to prayers before you head out for food, and engage each other on spiritual matters that might have crossed your mind that day. Enjoy the month because I'm sure I will, but also try to learn from it.