By Shaykh Riad Saloojee.  The original article was written for Al-Madina and as available here.

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Our attempted mastery over natural law has increased our alienation from our own spiritual nature through our delusion of self-sufficiency and individual autonomy. There is no void more terrible and terrifying than not knowing who you are. The modern spiritual, self-help industry arose as a response to our own inner disconnectedness.

We now have new spiritual answers framed to be palatable to our Western liberal secular sensibilities: There must be – God forbid – no God; spirituality should not fetter our autonomy to make life choices according to own personal and relative morality; and spiritualism must not dare threaten any of our precious material privileges. The new spiritual ecumenism respects everyone’s personal space.

Among the many new answers is mindfulness meditation, which has fast become our zen du jour that promises to give us purpose, peace and presence. Its jingles are ubiquitous: live in the now, stay in the present, become a non-judgemental observer, don’t feel guilt – you are not your feelings.

Mindfulness meditation exercises have been introduced in therapy sessions for addiction and trauma, schools, universities, correctional institutions and the military. Even the heavyweights in the corporate world can be counted among the converted. Among the ranks of the believers, Apple and Goldman Sachs. The McMindfulness revolution, as some have coined it, is in full swing.

What is mindfulness meditation? Mindfulness is promoted as an acute, non-judgemental awareness of the present moment within your subjective consciousness, leading to a gradual, experiential realization that your feelings, thoughts and inner drives are transitory. Once this shift in experiential consciousness occurs, the belief is that one can control their external manifestations and thus become less reactive, calmer, purposeful and more peaceful.

It is at this level that proponents believe that mindfulness provides a useful method in dealing with the triggers, emotions and thoughts that create and feed negative moods, habits, certain addictions and the like.

But the reach of mindfulness meditation extends far beyond therapeutic applications. Mindfulness is traditionally rooted in the normative tradition of Buddhism and was always understood as an avenue to gain insight not only into the workings of the self but the nature of reality itself. In Buddhism, there is no God; nothing is permanent; our self is a fiction and a construction; non-self is the only way to freedom from suffering; and there is no dualism in existence – we are one with all, connected, part of a cosmic being.

Mindfulness experiences were understood in this light. Modern practitioners of mindfulness meditation, for example, frequently recount “experiences” of cosmic unity. One practitioner writes:

According to those who experience profound states of meditation, they often describe it as, liberation from mental constructs and experiencing union with reality and experiencing pure being…They feel connected to the great chain of being and feel fully alive in and of the universe.

Many such experiences are recorded, all of which are then affirmed as truth by the ontological assumptions of Buddhism. The subjective, interpretable experience of reality now becomes “verified” as “objective reality.”

Modern mindfulness meditation was imported for the Western market in neutral and non-denominational terms that supposedly transcend faith differences. Mindfulness does not demand fealty to such core principles of Buddhism such as reincarnation, or some of its ethical prohibitions like abstaining from luxury in food and material possessions; alcoholic drinks; instrumental music; singing and dancing; jewelry, perfumes and cosmetics; and all sensual overindulgences. Many Westerners, especially those who are not tied to institutional faith, do not appear to have reservations in accepting the Buddhist belief of no God and the unity of all being (which is a mainstay belief in many new Western modalities of spirituality).

Muslims should not be uncritical in accepting mindfulness meditation as yet another attempt to treat the spiritual void generated by secular materialism. For all its perceived benefits, mindfulness remains a fast-food solution to the spiritual hunger of our times. It is a proverbial doughnut that satiates symptoms but does not address root malnutrition.

The ‘aqidah, or creed, at the heart of mindfulness should be of even graver concern. Its oneness of everything, akin or similar to Monism, is categorically rejected by Islam, which teaches that there exists a Creator and created. Never will the two meet, join or unite. How can the Infinite ever unite with the finite, or the Perfect with the imperfect? We are not part of God’s being, nor can we ever become, in any way whatsoever, part of Him. The claim by anyone – Muslim or not – of oneness in reality or a wahdah al-wujud is definitively rejected by Islamic texts and the legacy of Islamic scholarship as a perversion that stands in the starkest contrast to the ‘aqidah of Islam.

Some Muslims might claim that modern mindfulness meditation is harmless because it is shorn of its Buddhist ontological tenets. But is it?

It is clear from the experience of many practitioners that their experiences have led them down a slippery path that ends up affirming pure cosmic oneness as true reality.

Mindfulness meditation was originally a means to produce an experience of the nature of reality. Its discourse, method, aims and pedagogy – no matter how instrumentally or therapeutically applied – still bear this imprint.

For example, the discourse of mindfulness meditation brings with it certain supra-rational assumptions about the self, mind and being. Are these harmonious with the revealed texts of Islam and the understanding of those who walked the path of purification? In the absence of revealed guidance regarding issues of the metaphysical and unseen, any such path to purification of the self will be speculative, a result of the states and experiences of practitioners unguided by Divine guidance and driven by personal subjectivities, however well-intentioned.

In its method and aim, the method of modern mindfulness meditation is similar to its classical formulation, as is its aim, which is to realize an experiential awareness of the impermanence of everything, the dissolution of the self and a oneness of being.

In the dimension of pedagogy, the practitioner is beholden to the teacher, whoever they may be, to interpret the experience of meditation, to guide them through its stages and what they might experience. Who are the teachers? Who will you allow to interpret your experience, as they understand it, of reality? From whom will you take your din?

As it wouldn’t be fair for Muslims to immediately deny some of the apparent therapeutic benefits of modern mindfulness meditation, it is equally unfair to be wilfully blind or ignorant to its great probable harms. And, for argument’s sake, even if the benefits were many, the harms negligible and the practice of mindfulness was purely therapeutic, our embracing of mindfulness to find peace and serenity represents a mindlessness of our own faith.

Everything in Islam is about the experiential realization of finding peace and happiness of the heart (qalb) through its loving surrender to the Divine. It is trite to say that Islam has all the answers to peace and happiness. But it does. And it is not enough that we know. Knowledge by itself is necessary but not sufficient for internal change and the experience of tawhid. Perhaps our intellectual blindness is born out of a deeper emotional and spiritual disconnect with Islam itself. Islamic psychology teaches that the mind is in reality the executive officer of the heart. We reason correctly or incorrectly due to our heart’s purity or lack thereof.

How can we justify rationally and Islamically the hours spent in mindfulness meditation? The essence of mindfulness is to focus inward on the mind, thoughts and sentiments, and to strive to then live in that state even outside the meditative moment. But is this focus and preoccupation not the very definition of ghaflah (heedlessness) – that is, to be unaware of the Divine? If our time and energy is spent outside of focus on the Divine in our spiritual journey, the Islamic value of this is at best zero. In Paradise, the abode of infinite, unceasing happiness, we are taught we will regret our ghaflah:

The people of Paradise do not regret anything except an hour or moment that passed them in the world without the remembrance of Allah (al-Bayhaqi, al-Tabarani)

A heart empty of Allah falls either prey to the lower self or the Devil. Ghaflah is to be resisted and struggled against. It is not to be sought directly or indirectly. We remember Allah not for His benefit – for He is beyond need – but rather for our own dire need for His nearness, love and grace. The quality of our happiness, beauty and joy comes from our nearness to their Source. Allah is the Source of Peace, the Beautiful, the Ever-Loving, the Magnanimous, the Subtle in Every Goodness, the Responsive. There is no greater approach to Allah’s nearness than constant remembrance. Dhikr is the means of cleansing the spiritual heart (qalb) which is the seat of cognition, feeling and will. Once the heart is cleansed, it is able to perceive Allah, know Him and seek Him. In that is its ultimate happiness.

This is the reason why dhikr is one of the most foundational Islamic teachings, and why it is the heart and soul of all worship and ritual. For this reason, we should strive our utmost to make dhikr our constant, steady state, to remember Allah with every beat of our heart and every breath.

The texts of Islam encourage us time and time again to seek this means of approach to Allah. We are informed that all the angels fill space-time in perpetual dhikr; that the unseen realm of angelic creation surrounds us when we are in dhikr, that all of space-time – nature, animals, birds, trees, mountains – are in dhikr; that dhikr is the cleanser of the heart’s tarnish; that the Devil flees from the one in dhikr; that dhikr is the deliverance from Allah’s chastisement and draws His bounty; that dhikr removes estrangement; that dhikr draws sustenance and provision; that Allah remembers in His self the one in dhikr.

We are taught to always thirst for more dhikr, for we can never have enough of Allah’s remembrance. For dhikr to truly be the avenue for our nearness to Allah, it must be plentiful. It is for this reason that whenever Allah mentions dhikr in the Qur’an, He qualifies it with the word kathir or abundant. When Allah the All-Emcompassing counsels abundant dhikr, can we ever limit it? Indeed, no other religious injunction comes with such qualification. How can we seek any semblance of true happiness and spiritual freedom without reaching a level of abundant dhikr of Allah?

Dhikr is certainly genuine mindfulness, because it is mindfulness of the Divine, who is the One, the True Reality. It is through the struggle for abundant and plentiful dhikr that that heart or qalb gradually becomes fully involved in dhikr. And it is then that dhikr becomes our greatest delight, solace and intimacy with the Divine – a joy that will supercede any and all other joys. The true masters and teachers of Islamic spirituality have unanimously recorded this for us. In describing his dhikr, one of them stated:

My Paradise is in my chest; it is with me wherever I go.

What greater certainty do we need after reading and hearing Allah’s words when He emphasizes this integral link between dhikr and peace and happiness:

Truly, it is with Allah’s remembrance that hearts find their tranquillity (13:28)

It might further surprise us that mindfulness is very much an integral part of Islamic spirituality, but with a profound difference: Islam prescribes Divine-mindfulness. Allah is al-Raqib, the Ever-Watchful and the Ever-Vigilant. Divine-mindfulness in Islam translates as muraqabah, which is to be experientially aware of Allah watching you.

Certainly, Allah is Ever-Watchful over you (4:1)

Muraqabah is a verb that indicates a reciprocal action. When I am in muraqabah, I am in an intimate relationship with Allah. I know – at least intellectually – that He is near, that He sees me, hears me, and is aware of every aspect of me. Merely struggling to be in muraqabah of Allah is dhikr. In fact, muraqabah is one of the greatest and most beneficial forms of dhikr that will transform one from the inside out.

An obvious difference with modern mindfulness is that I am not vigilant of only what is in me, for me. That would be ghaflah as well.

Our spiritual teachers teach us that Muraqabah begins with me watching my external limbs and actions – the gateways to my heart – and then my heart itself, its thoughts, feelings, and subtle changes. As my experience of Allah’s infinite knowledge, majesty and beauty deepens, my muraqabah of Him deepens to penetrate into the deepest recesses of my heart. For the ultimate intent of my internal vigilance is to liberate my heart of all feelings, moods and sentiments that are ugly and immoral; and to adorn my heart with every virtue and quality that He deems beautiful and beloved. Our teachers mention us that our heart will purify gradually through the struggle of muraqabah and, with Allah’s solicitous grace, the periods of ghaflah will dwindle, to be replaced with the spiritual witnessing of Allah’s nearness at all times. May Allah not deprive us of this great gift.

Dhikr and muraqabah are the gifts of Allah’s love. They are the true and certain avenues for the purification, cleansing and embellishing of the spiritual heart, and they draw it ever nearer to Allah’s infinite beauty and majesty. With Divine nearness, the heart lives in never-ending peace, tranquility and joy. This is Allah’s promise. This is the essence and reality of Islam. And Allah’s promise is true for all times and all places.

In these times of increasing shades of grey, let us never doubt the clear light of Allah’s path. If I do not find the joy and happiness in Islam, I should impute my own deficiencies and summon greater sincerity, resolve and will.

More than ever, in our search for true happiness, we find ourselves in desperate need of the profound supplication of Allah’s Beloved, Allah’s peace and blessing be upon him, that our knowledge is beneficial, heart-purifying and liberates us from the philosophical caprice and base desire of our lower self: O Allah, we seek refuge in You from four: from knowledge that does not benefit; from a heart that is not in awe of You; from a lower self that is never satiated; and from a prayer that is not answered. Amin.

Has fasting [fill in number] Ramaḍāns in my life changed me? If not, why? The answers to these twin questions are my most important pre-Ramaḍān preparation.

Transforming Tawhīd and Akhlāq

The intent of Ramaḍān is to transform my tawḥīd and, consequently, my akhlāq.

Tawḥīd is when conceptual belief in Allāh’s Divine Unicity becomes experiential in my heart’s perception, feeling, and will.

Akhlāq, inner character, is the tawḥīd of Allāh’s Names and Attributes manifested at the level of my human potential. Allāh, for example, is Infinite in His Loving-Mercy (al-Raḥīm), Justice (al-‘Adl) and Wisdom (al-Ḥakīm). I must strive to be, to the best of my finite human ability, lovingly-merciful, just and wise.

Through tawḥīd and akhlāq, I know Allāh experientially and I represent His Names and Attributes. I become His khalīfah.

The Prize of Taqwā

Tawḥīd and akhlāq are the two precious components of Ramaḍān’s ultimate prize: taqwā.

Allāh says: O you who have believed, fasting is prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, that you may attain taqwā. (2:183)

What is taqwā except the heart’s experiential awareness of Allāh’s Beauty and Majesty, and the translation of His Names and Attributes into my character and behaviour?

Circling back to the first two questions: Has my heart attained taqwā by fasting [fill in number] Ramaḍāns in my life? If not, why?

Said someone: Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. If my heart has not attained taqwā through fasting, I am doing something wrong. What is it? It must be this: If my heart has not attained taqwā through fasting, I must be fasting incorrectly.

Ramadāns Past

I must critically examine my fasting history in light of the intent of fasting. Let me enter the living, sacred space of this Ramaḍān after first visiting the graveyards of my past Ramaḍāns.

If I enter those graveyards, I will likely find ten sequential epitaphs inscribed on the tombstones:

1. HERE LIES SOMEONE WHO DID NOT SINCERELY SEEK THE SPIRIT OF FASTING.

It begins here. ‘Ibādah, or worship, is meant to produce a change of heart. Every law of the Sharī‘ah purifies and transforms the heart – but if, and only if, the law is practiced in both form and spirit. Without practicing the outer and inner dimensions of fasting, my heart will remain unimpacted. And while I fulfil the legal conditions of fasting, I could fall far short in its spiritual prerequisites.

The Messenger ﷺ stated: In the body is a morsel-like entity. If it is sound, the entire body will be sound; if it is corrupt, the entire body will be corrupt. Indeed, it is the heart.

2. HERE LIES SOMEONE WHO DID NOT FAST FROM SINS WITH HIS SENSES.

This is an essential spirit of fasting. The senses are the doors to my heart. What I see, hear, speak, think, and what I commit with my hands, sexual organs and feet, will either cleanse or corrupt my heart. I must fast with my limbs or senses – eyes, ears, mind, tongue, hands, sexual organs, and feet – from every act that displeases Allāh.

The Messenger ﷺ stated: Whoever does not give up false testimony [and, by analogy, all sin] and acting upon it, Allāh has no need of him abandoning his food and drink.

3. HERE LIES SOMEONE WHO DID NOT FAST FROM THEIR TONGUE’S POISON.

Fasting with my tongue deserves special attention. The evils of the tongue are grave and prolific, yet often completely ignored and overlooked. They include lies (black and white), backbiting, slander, rumour mongering, passing on false information, violating trusts, vulgarity, mockery, excessive jesting, disputation and argumentation, complaining, and on and on – and on.

The Messenger ﷺ stated: …and what causes people to be cast into Hell upon their faces except the harvest of their tongues?

4. HERE LIES SOMEONE WHO DIDN’T FAST FROM THE SINS OF THE HEART.

This is another essential spirit of fasting. In addition to fasting from sins of the senses, I must also fast from sins of my heart. I sin with my heart when I harbour cardinal vices like arrogance (kibr), delusion (ghurūr), miserliness (bukhl), violent jealousy (ḥasad), ostentation (riyā’), obscenity (badhā’ah), harshness (qasāwah), and love of the world (ḥubb al-dunyā), among others. Fasting with my heart is to internally struggle against such feelings and not indulge or embrace them.

Allāh states: Avoid the external of sin and the internal of it. (6:120)

5. HERE LIES SOMEONE WHO DID NOT FAST WITH SPIRITUAL VIGILANCE.

Fasting with its inner dimensions requires spiritual vigilance – or murāqabah – that Allāh is Ever-Watchful of my senses and my heart. If I am aware of Allāh’s watchful gaze on my heart, I will find it easier to screen negative thoughts and feelings before they take root, grow, strengthen and produce the evil fruits of words and actions. It is easier to stop a walking horse than one at full canter.

Murāqabah of Allāh is a core element of iḥsān, or spiritual beauty and excellence. Being in a state of murāqabah of the Infinitely Beautiful produces beauty in my words and action.

Practically speaking, when base thoughts and feelings arise, I should do the following: Turn to Allāh in forgiveness and protection; ignore the thoughts and feelings; calmly keep re-orienting my heart to Allāh; busy myself – ideally with my heart – in acts of His remembrance; and act with the virtuous opposite of the inner vice that is plaguing me. And with Allāh is all success.

Allāh says: And Allāh is Ever-Watchful over all things. (33:52)

6. HERE LIES SOMEONE WHO DID NOT TRULY FAST IN THEIR PRAYERS.

Ṣalāh is an intimate communion with the Divine Himself. It is the foundational pillar in my journey of inner purification. Five times a day, ṣalāh is a gift of heavenly ascension, or mi’raj, to the Divine Presence. But the wormhole that allows me to break from my mundane, worldly existence into the sacred, heavenly realm of Divine proximity requires incredible energy. That energy is my focused effort – the sincere extent to which I struggle to fast with my heart from distracting thoughts and feelings while offering my ṣalāh.

Allāh says: Truly, the believers are successful – those who are mindfully reverent in their ṣalāh. (23:1)

7. HERE LIES SOMEONE WHO DID NOT FAST WITH A WIRD.

Every moment of Ramaḍān is spiritual nourishment. The greatest enemy of my heart is myself – my lower-self, or nafs. The unrefined nafs makes every excuse to escape from spiritual work; if I do not busy my nafs with good, it will busy me with evil.
Without a practical, realistic daily schedule, much valuable time will be squandered. The scholar-saints of our tradition term a daily schedule of ‘ibādah a wird. The root word of wird means to come to water and drink. Without a daily wird, my heart will thirst, dehydrate and die.

There are many fountains of spiritual nourishment. A daily wird should contain at least five elements:

• Quality, unhurried, focused ṣalāh
• Recitation of the Qur’ān
  Sending ṣalawāt, prayers of peace and blessings, upon the Messenger ﷺ
• Regular du‘ā’, or supplication
• Regular ṣadaqah (charity) and khidmah (service) to others
• The Messenger ﷺ said: The most beloved deeds to Allāh are the most constant, even though they may be few.

 

8. HERE LIES ONE WHO DID NOT FAST FROM BAD COMPANIONSHIP.

There is no surer way to sap the spirit of my fasting than bad ṣuḥbah, or companionship. Hearts draw deeply from the spiritual states of one another. Evil companions will stir the sinful propensities in my lower-self and weaken my will to do good. I must be cognizant that the concept of ṣuḥbah in the modern age extends to the virtual, online world, which offers unrestricted access and accessibility to the most spiritually fatal forms of ṣuḥbah.

Allāh says: O you who believe, have a conscious reverence of Allāh and be with the truthful. (9:119)

9. HERE LIES SOMEONE WHO DID NOT FAST WITH QUALITY KHALWAH.

To fast meaningfully requires inner focus. Focus requires a severing of distractive attachments. Quality time alone, khalwah, is a crucible for transformative inner change. There is no profound spiritual growth, affirm our scholar-saints, without moments of quality khalwah. And what is more beneficial than to use my moments of khalwah to reflect on the spiritual quality of my fasting – by reflecting, for example, on my observance of each of the nine dimensions mentioned – and by imploring Allāh for strength and steadfastness?

The Messenger ﷺ said: O child of Adam, free yourself for my ‘ibādah – I will fill your heart with richness and I will guarantee you freedom from poverty….

10. HERE LIES ONE WHO DID NOT FAST WITH HIS FAMILY.

The failings of fasting represented by the nine epitaphs apply to families as well. Families are made of individual hearts. When those individual hearts fast with true spirit, there will be spiritual resonance and collective growth. And that collective growth will, in turn, spiritually empower each individual family member. Without this spiritual synchronicity, we might impede if not destructively interfere with each other’s inner growth.

It is my duty to find creative, innovative and wise ways to manifest the nine spiritual dimensions of fasting with my family. The best place to begin is to establish a spiritual hub around which good will gravitate: We should regularly offer ṣalāh together and, when finished, remain seated in collective dhikr and du‘ā’, aloud, with hope, gratitude, joy and love.

Allāh says: O you who believe, save yourselves and your families from a Fire….(66:6)

A Program for a Spiritual Ramadān

These ten epitaphs, summarized positively, are the backbone of a practical and coherent spiritual program:

1. I fast seeking the spirit of fasting.
2. I fast with all of my senses from sin.
3. I fast with my tongue from sin.
4. I fast with my heart from inner vices.
5. I fast in a state of murāqabah of Allāh’s watchfulness.
6. I fast from outer and inner distractions in ṣalāḥ.
7. I fast with a wird, or schedule, of spiritual works.
8. I fast with moments of khalwah, or quality time alone.
9. I fast from evil companions, live, on-site and online.
10. I fast with my family, together, observing these spiritual dimensions.

 

When the Messenger ﷺ saw the first crescent, he would pray:

O Allāh, let it rise over us with goodness and faith, peace and security, and loving surrender.

May the rising, delicate, new crescent be the birth of a new Ramaḍān for me, filled with goodness, faith, peace, security and loving surrender – the gifts, so many, of taqwā, and the spiritual essences of ‘Eīd itself. Āmīn.

Ramaḍān Mubārak, my dearest brother and sister.