Ramadan 2026

A Quiet Reset Before Ramadan

As we enter this new season, I’ve been thinking a lot about the rhythms that shape how I show up, in my work, in my writing, and in my own internal world. For me, one of the biggest resets every year is Ramadan. It’s a month that naturally nudges me back toward discipline, intentional living, and a kind of quiet focus I often lose track of during busy stretches of life.

Ramadan is the 9th month of the Islamic calendar where Muslims all around the globe are involved in certain spiritual activities exclusive for the month. Abstaining from eating, drinking, worldly pleasures are the main theme (starting from dawn to dusk each day). This period of time is not just about being hungry or thirsty but create a sense of grounding and mindfulness in the absence of basic human needs of life, to inculcate patience and empathy for those who are less forutnate with their basic human needs (that is food and water). Moreover, it serves as a reminder to strengthen our connections with our community through acts of charity and compassion.

Ramadan shifts everything, my routines, my energy, even my sense of presence. The early mornings teach me structure. The fasting hours teach me patience and mindfulness. And the evenings remind me to slow down, breathe, and reconnect with the core reasons behind the work I do.

It’s not just a spiritual month. It’s a wellness month.
A clarity month.
A “live with intention or life will drag you by the collar” month.

As a child, I would be waiting for Ramadan just to enjoy the different foods prepared by my mom or going to restaurants that have the lavish Iftar (the name of the meal after breaking the fast) buffets.  Now, as an adult, I eagerly wait for this month every year for a reset, to make me realize my priorities in life, that I have life outside of work and my professional identity, to remind me of community gatherings, to remind of what I can give back to the community and what I take from them.

In the last couple year, I have been hosting Iftar parties for friends and participating in preparing food for Iftar for other people who are fasting, making baked goods for charity bake sales at the local mosque, it gives my purpose and fulfilment of giving back to the community. The same feeling I have when I worked with some patient members from my work with Connect my variant and rare compassion program from Global Genes. 

This reminds me of the time when I was doing my prenatal rotation which was my final one and Ramadan had just started, I met a couple from Bangladesh who also identified themselves as Muslims. After the session was over, my supervisor left the room to take care of carrrier screening logistics and I was still chatting casually with them. The wife told me, I want to ask you something and I feel comfortabel asking you only, and I asked her to go ahead, so she was 12 weeks pregnant and asked me if it was okay for her to fast. she really wants to but is worried about her pregnancy. and I told her : "It's wonderful that you want to observe Ramadan, but I recommend discussing it with your healthcare provider to ensure it's safe for both you and your baby. and I also told her that from a religious standpoint, she is exempted from fasting during pregnancy, breastfeeding and postpartum care and she can make those up later whenever she is able to. Ramadan is the fasting month only for those who are healthy enough to do so, despite it being obligatory over every Muslim. Hearing this, I saw a comfort smile on her face and she said:  "Thank you for understanding and guiding me through this. I will discuss this with my healthcare provider but also consider what you shared. Many women still choose to fast with supervsion of their providers not because they don’t care about themselves or their babies, they have the fear of missing out on the spiritual benefits of those 29/30 days in a year which are so precious. 

I find that the gentleness of Ramadan brings out a different version of me, one that works more thoughtfully, listens more deeply, and steps back from the noise of constant hustle culture. It becomes a pause button that somehow makes everything else sharper.

And every year, without fail, Ramadan teaches me something new about balance:
how to take care of myself,
how to prioritize with honesty,
how to be steady,
and how to carry a little more compassion into every space I move through.

As I prepare for it again this year, I’m reminding myself that discipline doesn’t have to feel harsh, and productivity doesn’t have to drown out peace. Sometimes the most meaningful reset comes from slowing down, being present, and grounding yourself in something deeper.