We live in a time when cars shout identity, brands scream status, and even coffee cups flaunt our place in society. In such a noisy world, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ once chose a quiet, humble ride: a donkey. It wasn’t because he lacked options. He had access to camels, horses, and even wealth. Yet he often rode a donkey, wore wool garments, and milked his goats. This wasn't poverty. It was a purpose.
كَانَ النَّبِيُّ ﷺ يَرْكَبُ الْحِمَارَ، وَيَلْبَسُ الصُّوفَ، وَيَحْلُبُ الشَّاةَ، وَيَقْبَلُ الدَّعْوَةَ عَلَى خُبْزِ الشَّعِيرِ
"The Prophet ﷺ used to ride a donkey, wear wool (garments), milk the sheep, and accept invitations even if offered only barley bread."
This narration appears in various collections such as Musnad Ahmad, al-Sunan al-Kubra by al-Bayhaqi, and Tabaqat Ibn Sa’d, with slight variations. Some scholars have graded its chain of narration as weak (da‘if), but the content is corroborated by many authentic hadiths showing the humility and simplicity of the Prophet ﷺ. Hasan by at-Tirmidhi and authentic by al-Albani in Sahih al-Jami'.
This hadith is not just a whisper from the past, but a silent sermon, reminding us: there is power in walking humbly—for simplicity is strength in stillness.
At first glance, this hadith may appear trivial. The Prophet ﷺ rode a donkey—so what? But for those who reflect, this choice carries a profound message.
Firstly, the donkey is not a symbol of luxury, wealth, or status. In many cultures, even today, the donkey is seen as a lowly or simple animal. Yet the Prophet ﷺ chose it as his mount. This was not because he had no other option—he also rode camels and horses when needed—but because he deliberately wanted to demonstrate that humility and simplicity are not shortcomings, but virtues.
He lived in a society where status was often measured by material possessions. Sound familiar? In our world today, social status is often reflected through brands, gadgets, vehicles, and lifestyle. Riding a donkey in such a time would be like someone today choosing to walk or use public transport instead of flaunting a luxury car.
This hadith teaches us that a believer should not be enslaved by the opinions of others or by worldly displays. True dignity does not come from what we wear or ride, but from the character we hold.
As Imam Ibn Qayyim al-Jawziyyah said:
“The more the heart is filled with Allah, the less it craves from the world.”
By riding a donkey, the Prophet ﷺ was not just traveling—he was teaching. He taught that true greatness lies in contentment, that leadership comes with humility, and that to be close to Allah, we must let go of pride.
Today, driving a certain car or holding a particular phone is almost a declaration of self-worth. We are constantly told to show more, own more, and prove more.
But the Prophet ﷺ didn’t ride to impress—he rode to connect. The donkey wasn't beneath him. It elevated the message that true nobility lies in simplicity. As Imam al-Ghazali said:
“Do not be deceived by outward glory, for the closest to Allah are often the farthest from worldly show.” (Ihya’ Ulum al-Din)
In this statement, he is warning people not to be misled by appearances, fame, or material success. Outward glory — such as wealth, status, prestige, or popularity — can be impressive to the human eye, but it does not necessarily reflect a person's true spiritual standing or nearness to Allah.
Al-Ghazali emphasizes that those who are truly close to Allah are often humble, modest, and hidden from the spotlight of the world. Their righteousness and sincerity may not be seen or recognized by society, because their relationship with Allah is internal, private, and rooted in the heart — not something displayed for public admiration.
This quote reflects a key theme in Imam al-Ghazali’s teachings: the importance of inner purity over external appearance, and the need to focus on one’s spiritual development, sincerity, and humility, rather than chasing worldly praise or recognition. It is a reminder that true value in the sight of Allah lies not in what people see, but in what is known to Him alone.
James Clear, in Atomic Habits: An Easy & Proven Way to Build Good Habits & Break Bad Ones (published in 2018 by Avery, an imprint of Penguin Random House), reminds us: "You do not rise to the level of your goals. You fall to the level of your systems."
James Clear emphasises that success is not merely about setting ambitious goals, but about creating effective systems that support consistent progress.
He means that even if you have lofty ambitions or strong intentions, you will not achieve them unless you have reliable daily processes and habits in place. Goals are useful for setting direction, but systems are what drive long-term progress and results. In other words, it’s not your goals that determine your success, but your habits — the small routines you follow every day.
Clear argues that while goals can provide motivation, they are not enough to sustain improvement. Systems — such as routines, environments, and feedback loops — create a foundation for consistent action. Without them, even the most determined individuals will struggle to maintain progress.
This idea forms a core part of Clear’s philosophy in Atomic Habits, where he advocates for small, incremental changes that compound over time, leading to remarkable results.
The Prophet’s “system” was humility. He didn’t need grandeur to validate his greatness. The donkey was a daily declaration: I am enough without excess.
This resonates with the philosophy of Ikigai—finding purpose in the ordinary. Simplicity, when intentional, becomes strength. The philosophy of Ikigai originates from Japan and can be translated as "a reason for being" or "a reason to wake up in the morning." It is the idea that life becomes deeply meaningful when you find purpose — not necessarily in grand achievements, but in the simple, everyday things that bring joy, satisfaction, and fulfillment.
When people talk about "finding purpose in the ordinary," they are referring to the Ikigai principle that purpose doesn’t always have to be tied to big goals, fame, or material success. Instead, it can be found in small, meaningful moments — such as caring for loved ones, practicing a craft, enjoying nature, preparing a meal, or contributing positively to the community. This quiet, everyday purpose provides emotional balance, contentment, and motivation.
The phrase, “Simplicity, when intentional, becomes strength,” connects closely with the Ikigai mindset. It means that choosing a simple lifestyle — not out of limitation, but out of clarity and purpose — can be incredibly powerful. When a person intentionally removes unnecessary complexity from their life and focuses on what truly matters, they often gain mental clarity, peace, and resilience.
In essence, the philosophy of Ikigai teaches us that a meaningful life is not necessarily a busy or luxurious one. It can be a quiet life rooted in what you love, what you're good at, what the world needs, and what sustains you — and when this is done with simplicity and mindfulness, it becomes a source of deep strength and contentment.
In his work Ego Is the Enemy, published in 2016 by Portfolio (an imprint of Penguin Random House), Ryan Holiday makes a powerful statement: “Impressing people is utterly different from being truly impressive.”
What he means is that there is a big difference between putting on a show to gain others' approval and actually possessing genuine character, skill, or accomplishment. Many people focus on appearing successful, talented, or important — they chase praise, attention, and validation from others. This is the act of "impressing people," which often involves image, performance, and ego.
However, being truly impressive is about who you are when no one is watching. It means developing real ability, showing discipline, humility, integrity, and making a meaningful impact — even if no one applauds you for it.
Holiday’s point is that ego can push people to seek admiration rather than mastery. But lasting success and fulfillment come not from trying to look good in others' eyes, but from actually being good — quietly, consistently, and authentically.
The Prophet ﷺ didn't try to impress. Yet his impact impressed the world. The donkey he rode has more spiritual horsepower than any supercar today.
In societies where self-worth is measured through possessions, the Prophet’s ﷺ lifestyle rebukes us gently. Your worth is not what you flaunt—but what you choose to live without.
Today’s luxury car isn’t just transport—it’s identity. Designer brands aren’t just clothes—they’re badges of relevance. And yet, the most beloved man ﷺ rode a humble donkey—by choice.
We may never ride donkeys. But we can ride awareness. We can choose simplicity over show. Stillness over spectacle. Intention over image. As Ryan Holiday wrote in Ego Is the Enemy:
“It’s not about being better than others. It’s about being better than your former self.”
The Prophet ﷺ could’ve had anything. But he chose what kept him close to the people—and even closer to his Rabb.
What If we rode like him ﷺ?
What if we, too, chose what’s useful over what’s flashy?
What if we chose humility when everyone else chose hype?
What if we quietly embraced enoughness in a world screaming for more?
That’s the unspoken power of the donkey—the Prophet’s choice that still challenges our choices.
The Prophet ﷺ walked the earth with dust on his sandals and light in his heart. His ride didn't make headlines—but it made history.
