Journey of the Wayfarers

The modern man in his pursuit of knowledge finds himself inundated with doubts and uncertainty regarding the world he inhabits itself or the fundamental truths that transcend it. In a paradigm wherein skepticism is praised and certainty shunned, subjective truths are forwarded as truly the extent of human capacity, ever-changing across generations. Finding no concrete answer in the modern, one naturally turns to the ancients, viewing the present world through their eyes—and herein we find the rich science of taṣawwuf, which is both mystical and experiential in nature, urging man to dive beyond the mere world of sensible things—in the realm beyond, wherein true knowledge resides. As mere tourists in this jungle of infinite beauty, our guide shall be none other than Ḥujjat al-Islām Abū Ḥāmid al-Ghazālī.

We begin our journey with the most basic of questions: “what is a human being?” Without an answer to this fundamental inquiry, how may we traverse into the depths of the human experience, essence, and psychology? Al-Ghazālī like other Ṣūfīya (Mystics), begins his discussion with terms like qalb (heart), nafs (self), rūḥ (spirit), and ʿaql (intellect), each carrying a dual meaning. He explains that qalb can refer to the physical heart as well as the inner soul, the latter of which is a heavily contested topic. Imām al-Ghazālī describes it as “a tenuous substance of an ethereal, spiritual sort, by which man perceives, knows, and experiences.”¹ We shall use the term heart for this, moving forward.

This immaterial substance, the heart or inner self (soul), since not of a material nature itself is portrayed as something inherently weak and in need of forces (jund) to survive and function in this material realm. These forces are divided into two types: those visible to the eye and those known through insight. The visible forces refer to the body’s faculties, such as the eye, ear, tongue, and other physical and internal organs, that were created to serve the heart. For example, when the heart commands the foot to move, it obeys.

The heart depends on two forces for all its actions: internal and external. For instance, in seeking food, the heart relies on the internal force of appetite and the external force of the hand. The appetite originates in the heart, while the body’s limbs, acting as instruments, fulfill its desires. These forces are divided into three main classes:

1. Will – This refers to the inclination to seek what is beneficial (like desire) or to ward off harm (like anger).
2. Power – This refers to the strength that moves the limbs to achieve the desired goals.
3. Knowledge and Perception – This refers to the faculties that gather information, such as hearing, smell, and taste.

For each of these internal forces, there are corresponding physical members, such as bones, muscle, and blood, which serve as instruments for these forces. Knowledge and perception are further divided into two categories: the outer, referring to the five senses, and the inner, referring to the activity of the brain. A simple way to understand this concept is through an example: when a man sees an object and then closes his eyes, he retains its image within himself. This is known as retentive imagination. This image is then preserved by the faculty known as memory. He then reflects on what he has remembered, combining parts and recalling forgotten details, which eventually return to him. Through retentive imagination, he gathers the meanings of his sensory impressions using common sense. Thus, the inner faculties include common sense, imagination, reflection, recollection, and memory. The heart requires these “forces” for its journey towards Truth, which is none other than Allāh Himself, the purpose for which it was created, and to advance through its spiritual stages until it comes face to face with Allāh.¹

To illustrate this, one may imagine the soul (a subtle, immaterial substance) as the king, and the aforementioned faculties as the armies of his kingdom. Later, Imām al-Ghazālī further develops this analogy.

As is with any journey, the more guides one has, the better he understands the journey. For a more contemporaneous and perhaps a more philosophical explanation, let us introduce the thought of another prominent figure, Syed Muhammad Naquib Al-Attas. Al-Attas does not take us too far afield, as he presents a summary that aligns with al-Ghazālī’s thought. For example, he writes:

“The human soul, though independent of the body, relies on it in this physical world to acquire principles of ideas and beliefs. Through its connection with the body, the rational soul utilizes the animal powers to gather particulars from sensory data. From these particulars, the soul acquires four key insights:

1. The abstraction of universals from particulars, separating their meanings from material connections, and distinguishing between essential and accidental traits. This is achieved through imagination and estimation.
2. Establishing comparative relations between universals through affirmation and negation.
3. Acquiring empirical premises through sensory experience and reasoning by analogy based on repeated observations.
4. True beliefs, formed from successively transmitted reports.”²

The purpose of understanding the thought process of both of our guides, al-Ghazālī and Syed Muhammad Naquib al-Attas, is to place the knowledge of the true nature of things in its proper context. Both our guides agree that all knowledge belongs to Allāh, who discloses it to whom He wills. They also share a common view on the basic constitution of the human being, as al-Attas extensively draws from al-Ghazālī. So where, if at all, do their paths diverge? Let us briefly introduce al-Attas’s thought (as well as that of al-Ghazālī). For al-Attas, human intelligence is potential by nature, and to become actualized, it requires the assistance of an external intelligence, referred to as the Active Intelligence, which refers to the Holy Spirit and ultimately to Allāh. This concept aligns somewhat with al-Ghazālī’s understanding as well. Both emphasize that human intellect must be illuminated and guided by Allāh for it to realize its potential.³

How, then, does the potential intellect become actualized? Here lies the true role of the Active Intellect, which guides the human from pure potentiality (the initial stage of human experience) to full actualization. This process supposes the existence of an external intellect, the intellect in action, which facilitates the transition from latency to actuality. The Active Intellect initiates this process by instilling thoughts of universals (forming the possible intellect). As this intellect becomes more actualized, it advances through stages, eventually becoming the acquired intellect, which refers to higher forms of intellect, such as those possessed by saints and prophets, with the highest being the intellect of the final Prophet ﷺ. 

Al-Attas clarifies that the intelligible cannot be ascribed to either the soul or the body. The body, being a mere physical object, lacks the capacity to retain or produce intelligibles, while the soul must first become aware of them. The soul merely becomes imprinted with these intelligibles.² Imām al-Ghazālī explains this using the analogy of the heart as a mirror, which reflects the essence of things or intelligibles. In this analogy, intelligence arises when the essence of a thing resides in the heart. Just as grasping requires a hand, a sword, and the act of placing the sword in the hand, so too the arrival of an intelligible in the heart is called intelligence. Another common analogy is that of the sun and the eye: in order for the eye to perceive images, it requires the light of the sun. Similarly, the sun symbolizes Divine favor in whichever form it manifests, its light symbolizes illumination on the soul, and the act of seeing represents the heart’s readiness to perceive the essence of things or intelligibles.

The task of the soul, then, is to bring the body into a state of readiness to receive these intelligibles from the Active Intelligence. Al-Attas introduces the concept of Alam al-Mithal (World of Images), arguing that the mind does not “contain” anything, as containment applies only to material things. Since neither the intelligibles nor the mind are material, the mind does not “hold” intelligibles in a physical sense; instead, they are present to the mind. An example he gives is dreams, which, in the Akbarian paradigm, represent a middle point between the world of Images and the material world. This is similar to Imām al-Ghazālī’s explanation of dreams, though he does not adhere to a gradational concept of creation. For Imām al-Ghazālī, it is simply the spiritual realm, more of which becomes disclosed as one ascends the spiritual ladder.

Even though Al-Attas suggests that Imām al-Ghazālī was a precursor to the idea of Alam al-Mithal, with Ibn Arabi developing it further, this does not appear to be entirely accurate. Imām al-Ghazālī presents a similar, yet distinct, approach to understanding the nature of things and the book used (Ma’arij al-Qudus) by Al-Attas has a dubious and suspect attribution to al-Ghazālī. Hence, it’s not appropriate to think that al-Ghazālī holds fully to the same terminology and philosophical explanation. Furthermore, for al-Ghazālī, the knowledge of the nature of things comes by Divine favor, as explicitly stated by Allāh:

“He grants wisdom to whoever He wills. And whoever is granted wisdom is certainly blessed with a great privilege.”⁴

Imām al-Ghazālī, as al-Attas also suggests, raises the same question: how can knowledge reach the heart when the heart is devoid of it? Al-Ghazālī answers by explaining that the realities of all things are inscribed on the Preserved Tablet (al-Lawḥ al-Maḥfūẓ). All existence is first established there before manifesting in its external form, which humans then imagine and speculate upon intellectually. This relates to the subject at hand because, by Divine favor, the veil between the heart and the Preserved Tablet may be lifted, allowing one to perceive the true reality of things.¹

Al-Ghazālī compares this unveiling to a man gazing at the sun’s reflection in water; if he shifts his focus to the sun itself, his understanding deepens. Thus, the heart has two doors: one to the unseen, which grants true knowledge, and one to the senses, which only shows a reflection. This idea is reflected in his deathbed poem:

“Today I hold converse with the Saints above,
With no veil between, I see God face to face.
I look upon al-Lawḥ al-Maḥfūẓ and therein I read,
Whatever was and is, and all that is to be.”

Why hasn’t humanity as a whole, then, been transformed into sainthood? The answer lies in the essence of Ṣūfīsm. Man is constantly pulled by the desires of the body, the love of the world, and the distractions that surround him. Since true knowledge is the property of Allāh, it cannot be received by a soul that is dominated by bodily desires. The soul must prepare the body to receive Divine knowledge, but when the soul is enslaved by the body, this preparation cannot occur. It is like a man holding a candle in broad daylight in the desert, so focused on the candle that he cannot perceive the vast light of the sun around him. Herein lies the conversation of zuhd (detachment) and suluk (wayfaring).

After having acquired the destination of our journey, we part ways with Al-Attas, and further traverse into the depths of internal struggle with al-Ghazālī, referring to the jihād (strife) against one’s desires. Our focus here is on the essential aspect of jihād against the self—more precisely, against the lower self. In the philosophical sense, this can be understood as the jihād against the “animal” within the “rational animal” that is the human being. The ultimate aim of this jihād is to attain good character. To understand this fully, we must turn to the most significant of all traditions—not merely a narration but the lived example of the final messenger Muhammad ﷺ, the master of all the sons of Ādam, peace be upon him, and the best of all creation.

The Prophet ﷺ said,

‎“I have been sent to perfect good character.”⁵

Hence, our journey of self-struggle has led us to Muhammad ﷺ, in whom we find a man of perfect character, tasked by Allah Himself to perfect the character of all humanity. It is therefore no surprise that the Prophet ﷺ places immense emphasis on good character, for example he ﷺ said:

‎“Nothing is heavier upon the scale of a believer on the Day of Resurrection than his good character.”⁶

However, to progress and understand how good character is the first step to receiving illumination from the Divine, we must first define it. Many sayings in the Islamic tradition relate to this. A few examples include:

Abū ʿUthmān said, “It is to be content [riḍā] with the will of God.”⁷

Al-Wāsiṭī once remarked, “It is to please people both secretly and publicly.”⁷

And ʿAlī, may Allāh be pleased with him, famously stated, “Good character consists of three traits: avoiding what is forbidden, seeking what is permitted, and being generous to one’s family.”⁷

These sayings, however, differ from one another, as they address the fruits of good character rather than its essence, naming its various expressions and branches rather than revealing the root. Therefore, we must journey further. To understand the essence, we must first understand the makeup of man. A human being consists of a body that sees with ocular vision (baṣar) and a soul (nafs) and spirit (rūḥ) which perceive through inner sight (baṣīrah). Each of these components can have forms that are either beautiful or ugly. It is important to note that the soul, which perceives through inner vision, is superior to the body that perceives through the physical eye.

A trait of character, then, is a firmly established condition of the soul, from which actions proceed naturally and without the need for much thought or deliberation. If this condition leads to actions that are good and in accordance with the Divine law, it is called a “good character trait.” If it leads to ugly or wrong actions, it is called a “bad character trait.” Thus, four elements are involved in defining character:

1. The action itself – whether it is beautiful (good) or ugly (bad).
2. The ability to act – the capacity or potential to perform the action.
3. Cognition – understanding or awareness of the act.
4. The condition of the soul – the inner state that inclines the soul toward good or bad actions.

Character, then, refers to this inner condition or aspect of the soul. For a person’s character to be truly beautiful, all of these aspects—action, ability, cognition, and soul condition—must be aligned, balanced, and in their correct proportion. Only when this balance is achieved can a person’s character be deemed virtuous.

These are the rational, irascible, and appetitive faculties, and the faculty that brings about a just equilibrium between these three. This is the most basic understanding of the forces at play within a human being. As mentioned earlier, we referred to Imām al-Ghazālī’s analogy of the kingdom and now, through the explanation of these faculties, we will be able to further enrich that analogy. Let us define these faculties.

The Rational Faculty: This faculty is sound when it easily distinguishes between good and bad, such as truth and falsehood. When this faculty is functioning properly, it produces Wisdom, the principal trait of good character.

As Allāh says in the Qurʾān:

“And whosoever is granted wisdom has indeed been granted abundant good.”⁸

The Irascible Faculty: This faculty governs emotions like anger and fury. It is sound when its movements remain within the bounds of wisdom.

The Appetitive Faculty: This faculty pertains to base desires, love for worldly things, and bodily needs. It is sound when it is controlled by religious motivation (divine law) and the intellect (the rational faculty).

Equilibrium: Equilibrium is what ensures that both desire and anger are under the control of intellect and divine law. The intellect serves as the guiding counselor, while the faculty of equilibrium acts as the actualizing power, executing the orders of the intellect.

• The rational faculty, when sound, leads to Wisdom.
• The irascible faculty, when sound, leads to Courage.
• The appetitive faculty, when sound, leads to Temperance.
• The faculty of equilibrium, when sound, leads to Justice.

When these faculties are in harmony, a person is able to develop a balanced and virtuous character. If a person has attained balance in only one or some of these faculties, he possesses good character only in part. The opposites of these traits are stupidity (or swindling), recklessness (or cowardice), cupidity, and tyranny. Therefore, the fundamental traits of good character are four in number: Wisdom, Courage, Temperance, and Justice. All other good traits branch out from these four. For example, consider the traits that stem from Courage: nobility, intrepidity, manliness, endurance, clemency, dignity, and similar qualities.

Perfect equilibrium in these four faculties was attained by no one except the Emissary of God, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. Other people vary in their degrees of proximity or distance from this ideal. Thus, a person’s closeness to Allāh (Exalted is He!) is proportional to his closeness to the character of His Emissary ﷺ. Good character is defined as achieving balance in the rational faculty through wisdom, and then bringing the irascible and appetitive faculties into submission to wisdom, in accordance with divine law.⁹

These faculties form the core understanding of human nature, but we expand on this by discussing the qualities of the heart, which add another dimension to the forces at play within a person. Though the faculties defined earlier remain central, these additional qualities help enrich our understanding of human psychology and spirituality.

Within every person lies a mix of four qualities:

1. Lordly: This aspect drives a person to seek lordship, superiority, dominance, and power. Yet within it also exists an inclination toward truth, knowledge, and wisdom.
2. Beastly: This quality represents base desires, pushing one to live solely for the fulfillment of impulses.
3. Brutish: This aspect drives a person to act savagely, allowing anger to dominate behavior. Like a diseased dog, it lunges at anything displeasing, devoid of reason.
4. Demonic: This quality represents scheming and cunning, employed to deceive, cheat, and manipulate in the pursuit of fulfilling desires.

Most of humanity does not escape acting to satisfy these base impulses, whether in pursuit of ranks and ego, inflicting harm in the name of justice, or indulging animalistic cravings to create a comfortable life.

The Imām sees submission to these base desires as the ultimate form of oppression. It reverses the natural order, turning the possessor into the possessed, the lord into one who is lorded over, the master into a slave, and the conqueror into the conquered. Instead of ruling over one’s desires, one becomes ruled by them. In this state, the heart becomes corrupted and stained, leading to the soul’s ultimate harm and degradation.¹

In reference to such individuals, Allāh says:

“Have you seen ˹O Prophet˺ the one who has taken their own desires as their god?”¹⁰

Returning to the faculties, one might ask, “How does one achieve good character?”

The journey toward good character is achieved in two main ways:

1. Divine Grace: Some are blessed with good character from birth, shielded by Allāh from being dominated by anger and desire. This is the case for prophets, who are born with innate, divinely granted good character.
2. Struggle: For others, good character is acquired through struggle and disciplined practice. A person must strive against their desires and anger, consistently practicing the traits they wish to cultivate.

For example, a stingy person aiming to become generous must repeatedly practice giving, fighting any reluctance until giving becomes a source of pleasure. True generosity involves giving with delight rather than reluctance. In this way, all virtuous traits can be developed.

The Prophet ﷺ said: “Whoever does three deeds will taste the sweetness of faith: one who worships Allāh alone, who declares there is no God but Allāh, and who gives charity from his wealth each year with a cheerful and earnest soul.”¹¹

The body has specific functions, and when they are not performed properly—like the eyes not providing sight—it’s said to be afflicted with illness. The same applies to the heart or soul: when it does not perform its intended functions, it’s considered to be in a state of disease. The heart’s primary function is the pursuit of knowledge and wisdom, leading to ma’rifa—the deeper understanding of the true nature of things. The sign of this maʿrifah is a genuine love for Allāh, for whoever gains knowledge of Him and embodies wisdom inevitably comes to love Him. A further indication of this love is when a person values Allāh above all else in the world.

Allāh says,

“If your fathers, your sons, your brothers, your wives, your relatives, wealth which you have obtained, commerce wherein you fear decline, and dwellings with which you are pleased are more beloved to you than Allāh and His Messenger and jihad [i.e., striving] in His cause, then wait until Allāh executes His command.”¹²

Thus, the heart’s purpose is to know, love, and ultimately seek closeness with Allāh. This purpose has a beginning and, though it may not have a true end, it does have stages and milestones along the journey. Now, let us look at the path of an aspirant who seeks to be among the wayfarers on this journey.

As we approach the end of our journey, our guide thrusts us into the shoes of the spiritual aspirant,  for the spiritual aspirant to awaken, whether through personal effort or the guidance of another, there are essential requirements on the path to truth. These requirements function as a fortress, safeguarding the traveler from the thieves and looters encountered along the journey. Only by fulfilling these requirements can one attain the truth, which remains concealed behind barriers, as Allāh reveals:

“And We have placed a barrier before them and a barrier behind them and covered them all up, so they fail to see [the truth].¹³

The barriers between the aspirant and the truth are constituted of four principal obstacles:

1. Wealth: This barrier is overcome by detaching oneself from all but the necessities of life. The aspirant’s heart must incline solely towards Allāh, free from the distractions of worldly possessions.
2. Status: This barrier is lifted by avoiding the pursuit of fame, cultivating humility, and preferring obscurity over prominence.
3. Imitation: This veil is removed by rejecting sectarian fanaticism, eliminating blind adherence, and fully embracing the testimony of faith. This requires spiritual struggle, not disputation. For one cannot attain the truth if bound to a fixed dogma, unable to consider perspectives beyond a particular school of thought.
4. Sin: This barrier is dismantled through sincere repentance, renouncing wrongdoing, resolving never to repeat past transgressions, feeling genuine remorse, and making reparations to those one may have wronged.⁹

To neglect visible sins yet yearn for spiritual knowledge is akin to attempting to interpret the Qur’an without knowledge of Arabic, the life of the Prophet ﷺ, history, and the sciences of exegesis. Only by removing these veils can the seeker hope to attain true insight.

The one who has fulfilled these requirements is like one who has ritually purified himself through ablution and now stands ready to follow the Imām in prayer. Just as this purified individual is prepared for prayer, so too does the aspirant need a guide, for as the saying goes:

“He who is not guided by a shaykh is guided by the devil.”

A traveler who sets out alone on a dangerous path without a guide is destined to lose his way, falling prey to the perils around him. Indeed, many have been led astray by assuming they can comprehend the path of religion on their own. It is, therefore, essential for the shaykh to guard the aspirant, building around him a protective fortress.

This fortress is composed of four pillars: solitude, silence, hunger, and sleeplessness.

• Hunger lightens the heart and enhances inner clarity.
• Sleeplessness purifies the heart, and in combination with the clarity of hunger, causes the heart to shine with the radiance of a star.
• Silence and isolation are intrinsically connected, as man’s natural tendency is toward speech, which often disrupts contemplation and remembrance. Thus, isolation facilitates silence, and silence, in turn, fosters intelligence, caution, and instruction in piety. The optimal means to cultivate this is through khalwa (retreat), a practice of withdrawal from the world’s distractions, enabling one to distance oneself from vice and enter a state of isolation.⁹

Once an aspirant has mastered the disciplines of silence and isolation, he must turn inward, focusing solely on the remembrance of Allāh, free from all other distractions. This means that the heart must be fully overtaken by the remembrance of Allāh, without even a trace of thought for anything else. When this state is realized, the aspirant becomes a devoted lover of Allāh, with his sole concern being to love Him. This is the state of fanāʾ (annihilation) and then fanāʾ al-fanāʾ (annihilation of annihilation).

Through these stages, solitude, silence, hunger, sleeplessness, and finally the inward remembrance, the aspirant prepares himself to advance toward the ultimate spiritual realization under the protection and guidance of the shaykh.

At this stage, spiritual unveilings begin to occur to the aspirant; however, this phase also represents the greatest test. It is here that the devil seeks to deceive, leading many aspirants astray into heresies and disbelief. One must understand that at no level of spiritual insight does any aspect of the sharīʿah become obsolete. Regardless of spiritual attainment, the commands of the Sharīʿa remain intact and obligatory. Those who claim otherwise reveal themselves as spokesmen of the devil.

Furthermore, the path is not pursued for the sake of achieving spiritual ranks or stations, but rather for the sake of Allāh alone, to love Him and draw near to Him. At no point is one deserving of divine blessings by merit alone; rather, whatever one receives is through the sheer mercy of Allāh. This doctrine rejects the heresies of those who have deviated by neglecting the Sharīʿa, claiming supposed insights or divine experiences that contravene it. Many among them, misled by the devil, have fallen into beliefs of monism, asserting that the Rabb (Lord) is the same as the ‘abd (servant) and vice versa, may Allāh protect us from such beliefs.⁹

Thus, as we conclude the aspirant’s journey, we return to the beginning, where it was stated that to receive illumination from Allāh, one must turn the mirror of one’s heart toward Allāh alone. This requires mastery over one’s self, as the Prophet ﷺ said, “He who knows himself knows his Lord.”

With the end of the aspirant’s journey, we too have arrived at the end of our journey, and have traversed the beautiful jungle of meaning and wisdom. Before we part ways from our guide and bid him farewell, we must complete his (al-Ghazālī’s) analogy. We now see that the rūḥ (soul) is like a king, the body its kingdom, desire the venomous merchants, anger the policing force, and the intellect the trusted advisor. The role of the king is to direct all these elements toward a single purpose: preparing the kingdom to receive the illumination of the Almighty, the Truth, the Merciful, Allāh.

To end we quote the Quran:

“Successful indeed are those who purify themselves, remember the Name of their Lord, and pray. But you prefer the life of this world, even though the Hereafter is far better and more lasting.”¹⁴

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References:

1. Al-Ghazālī, Ihya Ulum al-Din, Book of the Wonders of the Heart. [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩]
2. Prolegomena of the metaphysics of Islam, chapter 4. [↩] [↩]
3. Al-Attas Prolegomena of the metaphysics of Islam, chapter 4, al-Ghazālī Ma’arij al-Qudus fi Madarij M’arifat al-Nafs. [↩]
4.  Surah Al-Baqarah, verse 269. [↩]
5. ‎Al-Muwatta 1614. [↩]
6. Al-Tirmidhi 2002. [↩]
7. Ihya Ulum al-Din, Riyadat An Nafs. [↩] [↩] [↩]
8. Surah Al-Baqarah, verse 269. [↩]
9. Al-Ghazālī, Ihya Ulum al-Din, Riyadat An Nafs. [↩] [↩] [↩] [↩]
10. Surah Al-Furqan, verse 43. [↩]
11. Abi Dawud 1582. [↩]
12. Quran 9:24 [↩]
13. Qur’an 36:9 [↩]
14. Quran 87:14-17 [↩]