Our story
It was never a lack of faith. It was my body.
Ten years of fasting, trial and error, and hunting one feeling — God's presence. This is why muslimstoolkits exists.
Where this starts
A Muslim father. A Christian mother. A Jewish grandfather. An uncle somewhere between Buddhism and something else nobody could quite name.
So one day, I had to choose.
Not which religion. Which feeling.
I chose surfing.
I heard Kelly Slater, eleven-time surfing world champion, talk about it once.
A wave travels thousands of kilometers. From the opposite side of the planet. Across the whole ocean, to reach the shore you're standing on.
That energy started somewhere else entirely. A storm in the southern hemisphere, maybe. A different frequency. A different amplitude. Nothing like the place you're standing in right now.
Then you stand up on it.
And your whole body shifts. Into that frequency. That wavelength.
Quantum physics has a word for it. A quantum leap. The fastest way matter changes state, from one point to another.
That's the real reason I chose surfing. Not the ocean. Not the lifestyle. How fast it can change what I feel. Seconds. Every wave. Every day.
Not many things can do that.
In surfing, joy comes first.
The core loop
My body was the vehicle the whole time. I was busy blaming the driver.
Every religion has its own practices. Its own rules. What to do. What not to do. What's forbidden.
Come down to the core of it, and all we're actually hunting is a feeling. Joy. Love. Freedom. Peace. God's presence.
Here's the thing nobody told me.
Toxicity in the body. Interference with God. Same static, different name.
In and out of frequency, for years. A bad radio, basically.
I used to think something was wrong with me.
Turns out God doesn't do bad reception. I did.
It was never belief. It was my body.
A leash with better scenery
That's not freedom. That's a leash with better scenery.
Surfing has taught me a lot about life.
Didn't matter how much I loved it. Didn't matter how bad I wanted it that day.
I might show up at the beach and nothing's right. No waves. Wind's wrong. Tide's too low.
Even something that can shift you that fast can turn into its own trap. I became dependent on it.
Surfing had become the thing I needed to connect with God.
That's when I realized. I'm back in the same trap.
Waves are no good, I'm not feeling good. Waves are good, everything's fine.
In life, like in surfing, joy must come first.
Why fasting
Fasting needs none of that.
Surfing could shift me in seconds. Every wave, a quantum leap.
But it needed an ocean. A swell. A storm on the other side of the planet, deciding to show up or not.
No board. No forecast. No permission from anything outside you.
Just an empty stomach, and the willingness to sit with it.
Turns out the fastest way to God was never in the water. It was in going without it.
Turns out it was never about the wave. It was always about God's presence — and to feel it, the body has to be ready.
Why the book
A decade of trial and error, compressed so you can skip it.
I'm not a doctor, and I'm not a scholar. I'm someone who has spent over a decade fasting — water fasting, dry fasting, and everything in between — and who learned there is no shortcut to this practice except trial and error. Years of it. More failed attempts than I can count, small adjustments made one Ramadan at a time until something finally clicked.
Not every method I tried made it into the book. Only the ones that, after years of testing, actually worked — again and again, not only in my own body, but in the bodies of family and close friends who trusted me enough to try them too.
It isn't a manual to follow step by step, and it isn't medical advice. It's one person's true account of what a decade of practice taught him about preparing the body to meet God's presence. Take what resonates with you, and leave the rest. That's how I'd want you to read it.
What we hold to
Presence
Everything we make points back to one thing: being present with God.
Clearing
A clean body receives the right signal. We clear before we connect.
Joy
Faith carried lightly. In surfing, joy comes first — here too.