About Me — Abdelrahman
Building The Minimalist Muslim OS
Updated Friday April 3rd 2026
As-salamu alaykum, I’m Abdelrahman a husband, and a father to a little boy who, without realizing it, changed how I see everything. Like most fathers, I want him to grow up better than me. Not just in what he achieves, but in how he lives. More present. More intentional. More aligned with what actually matters.
However the thing about life is you don’t know when its gonna end. You don’t have access to the count down of your time on this earth; you don’t know how many days or hours or even breaths you have left. None of us do. And yet, it’s easy to live as if we have all the time in the world. Filling our days, staying busy, moving from one thing to the next without ever really stopping to ask why.
For a long time, that was me. On paper, things looked fine. I was working as an electrical design engineer, taking on freelance design work when I could, and teaching science part-time at an online Islamic school. My days were full, and I told myself that was a good thing. It felt like progress. I thought if I just did more, worked harder, stayed disciplined, and kept improving everything would eventually fall into place. But internally, something didn’t feel right.
I was always busy, but rarely present.
My attention was scattered, my energy was stretched, and the things that mattered most. My faith, my family, my purpose they got whatever energy I had left. At some point, I had to be honest with myself: this wasn’t sustainable. More importantly, it wasn’t necessary. So instead of asking how to do more, I started asking a different question:
What can I do less?
That question changed everything. I began to subtract. Not in a dramatic way, just little things here and there. Subtracting meetings, commitments, projects, outings, apps, video games, etc. And with that, something unexpected happened. Things became clearer.
When you remove what doesn’t matter, what does matter starts to stand out. I had more time, but more importantly, I had more presence. More focus. More space to think, to reflect, and to actually be where I was.
That shift is what eventually led me to start building what I now call the Minimalist Muslim OS — not as a rigid system, but as a way of living. A way to reduce the noise and realign life with what we believe, not just in theory, but in practice.
At its core, it’s simple.
Most of us try to fix our lives by adding more — more routines, more tools, more goals. But the more we add, the more scattered we become. Our attention gets divided, our energy gets diluted, and we end up busy without being intentional.
The Minimalist Muslim OS works in the opposite direction.
It starts by removing.
Not because less is always better — but because what we allow into our lives shapes what we’re able to give to what matters. And if everything has access to our time and attention, then nothing truly gets it.
So instead of trying to optimize everything, the focus becomes much simpler:
- Subtract
Not everything — just what you know is taking more than it gives.
It might be endless scrolling before bed. Notifications that never stop. Saying yes to things you didn’t really want to commit to. - Create space
When you remove something, you don’t rush to fill it. You sit with it.
Maybe it looks like a quiet morning without your phone. Or a walk without headphones. Or simply ending your day without another screen. - Protect that space
Turning off non-essential notifications. Setting boundaries around your time. Being more intentional about what you let back in. - Focus on what actually matters
Not everything deserves your attention.
Your salah without rushing. Time with your family without distraction. Work that you’re fully present in, instead of constantly switching between tasks. - Live intentionally
So your days aren’t just reactions to whatever comes your way.
But choices — even small ones — that reflect your values and your faith.
It doesn’t happen all at once.
It starts small.
Putting your phone away during one conversation.
Saying no to one unnecessary commitment.
Closing your laptop when the work is done instead of reaching for something else to fill the time.
It’s not about becoming more productive.
It’s about becoming more present, deliberate, and aligned in how you live.
Which gets me to why I’m writing on medium.
I have a goal, a goal so grand that it transcends death.
The Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) said, “When a man dies, his deeds come to an end except for three things: Sadaqah Jariyah (ceaseless charity); a knowledge which is beneficial, or a virtuous descendant who prays for him (for the deceased).”
So this writing is for my kiddo, so to him I’m not just memories, or thoughts, but lessons, and reflections he could come back to any day.
A record that might help him understand how I tried to live, even if I’m not around to explain it.
Hence I can achieve “a virtuous descendant who prays for him”
And by sharing it online, I can achieve yet another achievement only unlocked for the deceased:
“sharing a knowledge which is beneficial”
I’m still figuring things out. This isn’t a finished system or a final version of anything. It’s a process. Because in the end, it’s not about how much we managed to fit into our lives. It’s about whether we lived them with intention.
