Self-Care and the Holistic Nature of Islam: A Personal Reflection

Yesterday was one of those physically demanding days — the kind that pulls everything out of you, body and soul. In the past, I might have ignored the toll it took, brushing off my aches and tiredness. But after spending the last two years navigating chronic illness, I’ve learned to listen. Now, when I know I’ve pushed myself, I follow it with a day of intentional self-care — a day of rest, healing, quiet, and reflection.

And this, too, is Islam.

So often we forget that our religion is not just about salah and fasting and hijab in isolation. Islam is meant to be lived as a whole. It is not a religion of pieces, but a way of life — a holistic path that integrates the body, the mind, the heart, and the soul.

The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) said: “Your body has a right over you.” (Bukhari)

We often quote it, but how often do we live it?

In my journey, I’ve seen people say things like:

“At least she’s praying, even if she doesn’t wear hijab.”

“At least she wears hijab, even if she’s not praying five times a day.”

But I think we need to gently challenge that mindset.

Yes, of course, growth takes time. And yes, everyone is on their own path. But we’ve created this culture — especially online — where Islam is accepted in fragments, like checklists of visible deeds, instead of a deeply rooted, living relationship with Allah that encompasses everything. A relationship that changes the way we speak, think, eat, rest, dress, pray, and even heal.

People often say, “You can’t do everything at once.”

But I ask: Why not?

When people embrace Christianity, they receive a rosary, wear a crucifix, go to church, accept the belief and the symbols that go with it.

So why, when we accept Islam, do we shy away from doing the same?

This was our choice. No one forced us. We chose Islam — so shouldn’t we try, with love, sincerity, and effort, to embrace all of it?

That doesn’t mean perfection. It means wholeness. It means acknowledging that just as prayer is important, so is sleep. Just as wearing hijab is an act of worship, so is feeding your body nourishing food. Just as dhikr soothes the soul, so does silence and slowing down. Islam doesn’t pit the physical against the spiritual. It teaches us to honour both.

The Qur’an reminds us:

“And do not forget your share of the world.”

(Surah Al-Qasas, 28:77)

Take care of your worldly needs — your health, your family, your mind — while seeking the hereafter.

“Allah does not burden a soul beyond what it can bear.”

(Surah Al-Baqarah, 2:286)

This is not an excuse to give up, but a reassurance that we are always equipped for the path we’re on — especially when we walk it with intention.

“Indeed, in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest.”

(Surah Ar-Ra’d, 13:28)

Hearts, not just minds. Our hearts need nourishment, too — not just through rituals, but through gentleness, reflection, and rest.

So today, I rest — and that rest is not laziness. It is worship. It is trust. It is healing.

And tomorrow, I’ll walk forward again, in shā’ Allāh, trying — not to be perfect — but to be whole.

Because Islam is not a piece of clothing, or a single prayer. It is a whole way of being. And I want to live it fully, not just in parts.