I love spreadsheets as much as the next stay-at-home mother. Once a year, however, I am totally in love with a particular spreadsheet. So this essay is a story about a girl and her spreadsheet. How did they meet? What was the context? And what happens when their time together ends (on Sunday)?
Instead of my children’s faces, I see this spreadsheet every time I pick up my phone.
Seriously, I’m weird.
Currently, at the time of drafting this, we are on day 8 of Dhul Hijjah, the 12th and last month of the Islamic (lunar) calendar. The end of the Islamic year might not mean much on an individual level. There’s no commercial holiday tied to this time of year, and the holiday - Eid al-Adha - tends to catch me by surprise. Like every single year, I’m not ready for this holiday.
However this is a momentous time for the global ummah because pilgrims travel to Mecca to perform the rites of hajj, one of the tenets of the Islamic faith. Hajj is obligatory only if you are able to physically and financially afford it. The pilgrimage costs vary depending on what country you travel from, but being in Mecca you witness the incredible diversity of this religion. It’s a priceless experience.
Performing rites with a million other people from all over the world is humbling. Imagine a congregational prayer with a million people moving and prostrating in sync. Being immersed in a crowd is pure chaos but when the call to prayer is made, perfect concentric circles form around the kaba. There’s a sense of connection, to a greater purpose beyond yourself. In fact there’s a level of celestial and environmental connection in performing the circumambulation of the kaba. The birds circle the kaba, the angels circle, the masses of people circle too, just as electrons circle the nucleus of an atom.
As a former social justice activist type, the disparities of wealth and class disappear (momentarily) on hajj. I’ve met people who saved their entire lives to be there. I speak a few languages poorly so I make an effort to talk to people I will never meet again. I ask people where they are from. I talk to anyone who will talk to me. The cultures of this global community of believers is incredible to witness. Some people have such a desperation in their eyes, wet from gratitude or pain I don’t know what. Maybe it’s zealotry. The elderly in wheelchairs in particular have a look of total surrender. The wealthy and the poor stand side by side, begging the Creator for mercy, asking for relief from oppression of every kind. My anecdotes do not capture even an iota of the magnificence and goodness of people.
The first time I went, I was 19. My parents brought me, but I felt like such a fraud. I didn’t know the first thing about anything related to hajj. My heart was grateful to be there with my family, but my mind was elsewhere. I was in the middle of my sophomore year of college, between exams, internships, and boy drama. I don’t remember much except that I was struck by the volume of people, and the intensity of peoples’ worship. I felt like a journalist, watching other people doing something important. I just sat in awe most of the time, thinking and noticing other people. My favorite memory was praying next to my father. I cherished this feeling of equality before God.
Anyway, hajj is a trip of a lifetime. I’ll have to dissect the gender dynamics in another essay, when I’m not so sleep deprived. It is a honor and a privilege to be invited to God’s house.
The image above is my favorite spreadsheet of the year. It’s a scoresheet for a game called Pilgrims at Home. It lists different dhikrs and awards points for each litany.
I first learned about this spreadsheet during the first Covid year.
When the world felt like it was ending, I found this game that made being a pilgrim at home possible. It was like I was on pilgrimage, but in my own space. Without being in Mecca, without the rites and rituals of hajj, I could do acts of worship. Even if I was menstruating, I could do good acts. The costs and benefits for certain acts of worship are delineated by the point system. That was the genius of the spreadsheet. Maybe it’s because I’m the daughter of an accountant, but I like when numbers make sense. For example, if you miss Fajr the morning prayer, you start with -50. That’s exactly how it feels when I miss Fajr.
I have a friend named Rashda who introduced me to world of Muslim women who take worship seriously. Growing up in a family in which my mother stayed away from anything “overtly religious” like places of worship or people who worship too much, finding Rashda and meeting other Muslim women has been revelatory. Women form teams of 5, and together they earn points for every act of worship in this game. The idea is to increase your acts of worship during the blessed days of Dhul Hijjah. Plus, doing something with a team is always better than doing it alone.
In my first year, I was in awe of this spreadsheet. It incentivized me to get up before fajr (which in the summer is insanely early like 4 AM). The spreadsheet incentivized me to pray on time, meaning within the first 15 minutes of a prayer coming in. The spreadsheet incentivized me to fast during the longest, hottest days of summer, almost 19 hours at its peak, so I could help my team win some points. There is no material reward. Instead, there’s something less lonely about existence when you work with women you don’t know, who share your values, and achieve something collectively. For me, I didn’t want to disappoint the team as the lowest-scoring person. I knew one person on my team but we were not particularly close. We never hung, but our spouses were college friends and we traveled together as families once a year for many years. I was not particularly concerned about my reputation here. I must say however after doing this experience with her and members of my team for so many years, I feel so much closer. Sure we travel together to far away places, but for me this spiritual connection is profound. My teammates are in my duas and I think about them often! I didn’t want to bring my team down with my laziness1.
The second year of doing this competition, I led a team and was part of the same team. I decided never to lead a team again, because I would get angry over a spreadsheet. Why was it not filled in each night as I asked? Why were easy points missed? My husband told me to “calm down” which only made me more angry. I realized I definitely don’t have the patience to explain things that are already in the game manual and I will lose my fast if people ask me fiqh questions, because I cannot give answers on jurisprudence. This is a game, my friends. You play because your heart is in the game. If you overanalyze, you’ve already lost. Being strategic is one thing but trying to change the point system, or asking for hadith on something, is infuriating. I admit, it was hard to recruit a team, and my desperation led to outcomes that were not ideal. I tried hard to recruit a girl I knew who was fluent in Arabic, but as a doctor and homeschooling mom of 4, she didn’t have time for games. I found this hilarious because we were all homeschooling mothers with toddlers running around at home that year. But I didn’t have to save people from dying like she did. I just wanted to save myself from myself, if that makes sense.
Anyone who knows me, knows I am not competitive. When there’s a board game, or any kind of competition, my first response is, “Why bother?”
Seriously.
I’m married to a man who does not loose at (board) games, and I stopped playing games with him like 18 years ago. He’s like 5 steps ahead of everyone when he plays. I’m starting to play with the kids now that they are older. I can occasionally beat my 6 year old but never the 9 year old. (She plays with her dad).
But for some reason, the Pilgrims at Home game was the first time in a long time I wanted to compete against myself. I wanted to get more points each day, and beat my best score (which I think was a 752) I didn’t know there was a fire in me to compete like this intensely. I also like that you play for 9 days straight and then it’s over. And you can keep the good habits you jumpstarted during the game.
How is it playing this game with a 2-week old infant? Well, it’s different. Getting up at 3:30am- easy because I have a human alarm clock that needs to be fed. The rest of the scoresheet is sadly very empty. I am really sorry for my teammates but we do this not to win, but just to motivate ourselves. We’re all mothers with lots of responsibilities and this is a kind of self care for the soul.
By the way, writing anything with an infant is not the smoothest thing, nor will it be for a long time. I write on my phone. Lots of errors that I need to correct when I have time. My apologies.
For more, about the game, and the creators of this incredible experience, check out Rabata.org.
Wishing you and your loved ones a blessed Eid which coincides with Father’s Day this year. Now I definitely need to get something for my spouse.
A Question or Two For You
Is there a game you’re really into? Is there a spreadsheet you check every day? Have you tried reducing your life to a Notions template? Let’s meet in the comments.
No one except my mother considers me lazy.
Reading Sura Baqara ( 200+ pages) wins you 7 points. Some women read it every day. Every. Day. I did that once in my life and then felt like I had climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro because you know how “well” I read Arabic. I also did it with toddlers at the time (5 and 2) so it was before they woke up! Anyway, it’s been a long time since I did that. I really want to do it again.
This was gorgeous! I haven’t done this but i should next year because i feel like I don’t make the most the first 10 days of thul Hijjah
Happy to meet another fellow pilgrim.
I just found out that the alternative scoresheet is just as challenging as the regular one. However, playing this game has taught us that these goals are attainable as long as we are determined to achieve them.
Have a blessed Arafah! 🪷