The Day I Put My Feet in the Office Sink

Nobody tells you that becoming Muslim means you'll eventually find yourself washing your feet in the bathroom sink while Priscilla from accounting stares at you like you've lost your mind.

"Is everything... okay?" she asked, with a confused look on her face.

"Just getting ready to pray!" I chirped, balancing on one foot like a spiritual flamingo.

This is the thing about being a new Muslim at work: you think the hard part will be explaining why you can't join the team for Friday happy hour. Turns out, the hard part is figuring out where to prostrate yourself to the Creator of the Universe between the 2 PM budget meeting and the 3 PM client call.

My first week of trying to pray at work, I was stressed but pumped. I was decided to not let anything get in the way of prayer. It was November and the days were short. I booked a room, opened the door, Rozen was in a called and looked at me, annoyed. I’ll go somewhere else, I said, thinking to myself… where? I wandered around, looking for a backup plan.

I went back to my computer: thank God! Another room was available. I booked that one, took the computer with me to wrap up an urgent message and make sure this time nobody took my room! This one was open. Phew. As I wrapped up this message, I was almost at “Allahu akbar” and then the door opens. My boss’s boss and her boss request the room for a client meeting. Cool first, ugh. My 3 o’clock call starts soon and will run over the next prayer. Gotta make it. I found an empty cubicle by a window and prayed nobody would think I’m having a seizure. I made it, both to prayer and to my meeting on time. I dogged a bullet.

But here's where it gets weird. I figured I'd ask the other Muslims at work for advice. My neighbor had triumphantly announced she was Muslim within the first minute we met. I thought she'd have secret prayer spots mapped out like some kind of sacred speakeasy network.

"Hey," I approached one sister at the coffee machine. "Where do you usually pray?"

She looked at me like I'd asked where she keeps her pet unicorn.

"You pray… at work? I just wait until I get home." I left saying alright, thanks! But thought: wait until you get home? But that's like... so late! What about Dhuhr? Asr? The spiritual appointments we literally have with God? And you pray all of these rakats in a row?! Woah, that’s a lot.

This was my biggest culture shock as a revert. Not the pork thing. Not the alcohol thing. But discovering that many born Muslims, people who grew up knowing exactly how to pray, when to pray, why to pray, just... didn't. At least not at work. Alright: you do you.

The funny thing is, after a few months, something shifted. Colleagues started joining me.

"Can I join you?"

Then another joined. Then another. Suddenly our "meeting" had actual attendance. My neighbor never joined. I pray she does soon. When she’s ready.

I spoke to my manager about that stressful day and told him how important it was for me. He said: “I will do everything in my power to help you with your spiritual life”. Wow. Nothing changed right there and then, but the support felt great.

For a while, I used a bunch of meeting rooms, some of which involved more bumping against furniture than I like and everyone left me alone in my meeting rooms. Until one day my manager came back: “I spoke to a couple of people and you’ll soon have a prayer room”. Wow again. It's a former storage closet, but it faces Mecca and that's what matters. They even put a nice sliding sign that says: occupied and a comfy chair we can read the Quran in. I was not expecting that!

Some days I still feel like a fraud. Like surely these women who've been Muslim their whole lives must think I'm doing it wrong. My Arabic sounds like I'm speaking through a mouthful of marbles. I definitely have never sweat more while not moving than the first time I led prayer for our little group.

But here's what I've learned: sometimes being new means you haven't learned yet what you're "supposed" to find difficult. Nobody told me that praying at work was weird or hard or that people would stare. So I just... did it. Washed my feet in sinks. Prayed in supply closets. Treated it like the non-negotiable it is.

To my fellow reverts navigating workplace prayer: You're not crazy. Yes, it's awkward. Yes, Priscilla from accounting might ask you questions in the bathroom. Yes, you might be the only person in your office who blocks out "meeting with God" on your Outlook calendar.

Do it anyway.

And to any born Muslim who've let work prayers slide: no judgment, wallahi. We're all struggling with something. Or maybe it’s not possible or not safe. I can only encourage you to give it a try if you can. Maybe you’ll be surprised. You might get a few wows out of it.

Even if it means washing our feet in the office sink.