What is true wealth?

A reflective piece on redefining wealth through an Islamic lens, embracing generosity for the akhirah, and overcoming a scarcity mindset.

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Photo by John McArthur on Unsplash

The first time I heard this hadith, I was sitting cross-legged on the carpet in my living room, the soft hum of the heater filling the silence.

"Who among you considers the wealth of his heirs dearer to him than his own wealth?"

I paused the lecture to let the words sink in, thinking, My wealth, of course. Isn’t that why I work so hard? My mind automatically filled in the answer, just as the companions of the Prophet (ṣallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) had: “There is none among us but loves his own wealth more.”

But the Prophet’s (ṣallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) next words hit me like a thunderclap:

"So his wealth is whatever he spends (in Allāh’s Cause) during his life, while the wealth of his heirs is whatever he leaves after his death."

I blinked, staring at the screen. The heater’s hum faded, and the words looped in my mind. What? No. My wealth is… mine. Isn’t it?

And then, almost as if on cue, an image flashed in my mind: standing in the bookstore a few months ago, the crisp scent of new paper mingling with coffee from the in-store café. My fingers traced the smooth, pastel bodies of a set of Legami erasable pens—soft pink, baby blue, lavender. I didn’t need them. My desk drawers were already brimming with stationery. Yet there I stood, convincing myself, You’ll use them for journaling! Maybe color-coding your to-do list will finally make you more productive.

I bought them. And, of course, weeks passed before I even remembered where I’d stashed them.

Then came another memory: standing in front of a mirror in a quaint little boutique in Amsterdam South on a summer’s day, I spotted a baby pink pashmina shawl. It felt so luxuriously soft it practically whispered, “Take me home.” I didn’t need another shawl, but after a stressful week, the indulgence felt justified.

Eventually, I took it with me on a trip to visit my grandmother in NYC, where it ended up hanging in her bedroom alongside all the other clothing she didn’t need. I haven’t seen the shawl since.

Photo by Dan Cristian Pădureț on Unsplash

A pang of guilt twisted in my chest as I thought of the unopened charity appeal emails I archived.

I sank deeper into the couch, grappling with a truth I didn’t want to face. All the times I’d told myself I didn’t have enough to give—what were those moments, really? Frivolous decisions dressed up as self-care, while the opportunity to spend on something eternal slipped away unnoticed.

My pursuit of wealth—earning more, saving more, buying more—suddenly felt hollow. Scarcity had been part of my mindset, whispering, If you give too much, you won’t have enough for yourself. This was me in the past. Whilst many will tell you I am a generous person I too suffered from a scarcity mindset.

But in that moment, with the Prophet’s (ṣallallāhu ‘alayhi wa sallam) words reverberating in my heart, something shifted. Wealth wasn’t about what I kept. It was about what I sent ahead. The real treasure wasn’t in the pens or the pashmina shawls or even the balance in my savings account. It was in the sadaqah I gave, the lives I could touch, the deeds that would outlast me.

A lump rose in my throat, and I whispered a quiet prayer: Ya Allah, help me see what truly matters, ameen.

Much love, 💞

Nour Cauveren

Reflective Questions

1. What are some of the “erasable pens” in your life—purchases or habits that reflect consumption over contribution?

2. How often does fear hold you back from giving more, and where does that fear come from?

3. If your wealth could speak, what story would it tell? One of fleeting joy or eternal reward?

4. What small steps can you take this week to spend on something that truly lasts?

As we journey through life, let’s remember: real wealth isn’t measured by what we hoard, but by what we invest in the akhirah. May Allah make us among those who give abundantly for His sake, ameen.

I’ve journaled, joined book clubs, and shed countless tears as I’ve worked through Overcoming Underearning—not once, but four times! Each time, it feels like peeling back another layer of understanding, revealing lessons I wasn’t ready to absorb before.

The most recent time I completed the book was just three weeks ago, and it sparked a powerful realization: I want to grow wealth. Not just in the traditional sense, but true wealth—the kind that comes from spending generously in the way of Allah. My goal now is to increase what I give for His sake, far beyond what I do now, and to focus on building a portfolio that will benefit me in the akhirah.

If any of you are interested, I’ve created a book club syllabus that pairs Overcoming Underearning with Islamic sources for a deeper, faith-based perspective. If that sounds like something you’d benefit from, send me a message, and I’ll happily email it to you.

May Allah increase all of us in blessed rizq and guide us to invest in a portfolio that leads straight to Paradise. Ameen!