Amāna is a place for muḥāsabah, the old practice of taking account of yourself. You write to the you of a year from now. It’s sealed, encrypted so that not even we can open it, and returned by email or on paper when the day comes round.
Amāna isn’t open yet. This is the waitlist. Join it and, if you like, write one line to your future self now. When we go live, the email telling you we’re open will carry that line back to you, word for word, as the first letter you ever receive from Amāna.
A blank page, or a prompt tied to today’s Hijri date. No account needed until you’re done.
Next Ramaḍān, the Day of ʿArafah, or a day only you understand. The button names the date.
By email, subject line just the date. Or through the letterbox, on paper, with the wax still on.
You can’t open it early. Neither can we. The letter is encrypted and the database won’t release the key until the date. A trust is only a trust if the person holding it can’t break it.