It’s sunnah to enjoy life
The other day I came across this beautiful comment on a TikTok [@mumtazisalive] saying “it’s sunnah to enjoy life” and honestly something in me felt so different and moved.
It’s Sunnah to Enjoy Life: A Reminder for the Distracted Soul
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to live a “good” life. Not the kind of life that’s curated for Instagram, perfectly filtered and captioned with aesthetics — but a life that feels whole. A life that is meaningful, not just in the akhirah, but here, in the dunya too.
Because as a young Muslim navigating modern society, it’s easy to fall into extremes. Either we drown in the distractions of this world — overstimulation, hustle culture, vanity metrics — or we feel guilty for finding joy in simple things, afraid we’re being “too worldly” or not pious enough. I’ve been caught between both.
But then I remember this simple truth: it’s Sunnah to enjoy life.
Yes, life — this life — was never meant to be punishment. Our Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) laughed with his companions. He raced with his wife. He wore perfume. He appreciated beauty. He ate dates with delight. He played with children. He celebrated joy, softness, and presence. And he did so while always keeping Allah at the center.
Enjoying life isn’t the opposite of worship. It can be worship.
Smiling at someone? Sunnah.
Resting your body? Sunnah.
Eating with gratitude? Sunnah.
Spending time with loved ones? Sunnah.
Seeking halal fun? Sunnah.
The dunya isn’t the enemy. Distraction is. And the more I reflect, the more I realize that it’s not about rejecting the dunya completely — it’s about engaging with it in a way that keeps my heart alive. That nourishes my soul, not numbs it.
But I won’t lie — it’s hard. Scrolling through TikTok, seeing people my age chasing success, attention, aesthetics, and constant novelty… it’s easy to feel like you’re missing out or not doing enough. You start to believe that joy is found in consumption, not connection. That fulfillment lies in performance, not purpose. And then you feel empty, even though you’re “doing everything right.”
So here’s what I’m learning to come back to:
Halal joy is resistance. Slowness is resistance. Faith is resistance.
And choosing to enjoy life in a prophetic way — through moderation, gratitude, love, gentleness — is an act of courage.
We were never meant to just survive. We were meant to live — with sincerity, with beauty, with balance. Even amid chaos.
So go outside and feel the sun on your skin. Sip your tea slowly. Laugh so hard you cry. Pray Fajr and listen to the birds. Decorate your space. Wear what makes you feel beautiful and covered. Cook for the people you love. Take up space. Heal. Rest. Be kind. Be silly. Be spiritual. And remember that these are not distractions — they’re part of the deen, when done with intention.
This world is a test, yes. But it’s also a garden of signs. And we were made to notice them.
It’s Sunnah to enjoy life.
And you’re allowed to.
