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Sadegh Khademi

Spiritual Pathology Knowledge

Spiritual Pathology Knowledge

Teaching the Key Principles of Spiritual Journey in Shia Islam and the Fundamentals of Mystical Conduct according to the Unique Methodology of Divine Favorites

Author: Mohammad Reza Nekounam (b. 1948)

Title and Creator Name: Spiritual Pathology Knowledge: Teaching the Key Principles of the Shia Spiritual Journey / Mohammad Reza Nekounam.

Publisher Information: Islamshahr: Sobh Farda Publications, 2012.

Physical Description: 452 pages.

ISBN: 978-600-6435-41-1

Library of Congress Classification: BP281.2/1390

Dewey Decimal Classification: 82/297

National Bibliographic Number: 3630362

Spiritual Pathology Knowledge

A Foreword to the Simplified Shia Mystical Path

“Practical Mysticism” is a complex science, encompassing all operations within the Shia culture, which holds the most profound and rich concepts on the subject. Elements of this knowledge also exist in other cultural and philosophical systems, albeit with distortions and misunderstandings that have tainted its original form. Up until now, spiritual conduct knowledge has not been fully formalised and clarified within Shia Islam, remaining concealed within religious texts.

Practical mysticism aims to guide those who possess the spiritual potential, through its established rules, toward attaining the heart’s core, discovering the unseen, and experiencing the personal truth of existence. This journey, though firmly established in Shia culture, has been diversified by human desire for knowledge, resulting in various routes that, due to their deviation from the purest sources, often lack authenticity and purity. In Shia Islam, practical mysticism has yet to be officially supported within academic circles, and historically, it has often been associated with Sufis and, later, with Dervishes. Before the Safavid era, Dervishes enjoyed significant spiritual influence, and people revered them. However, with the Safavid dynasty’s rise to power, Dervishes turned toward materialism and lost their spiritual authenticity, such that today, they no longer maintain their societal status and influence, instead becoming a marginalised group with a specialised role. Some of their leaders are even suspected of collaborating with foreign intelligence agencies and Masonic lodges. Consequently, Dervishes, particularly at higher levels, have become entangled with politics and betrayal, while at the lower levels, many spiritually seeking individuals are still drawn to them due to their simplicity.

Mysticism, intimately connected with the “heart,” touches the essence of those who possess mystical potential. Such individuals constantly feel the longing to transcend the mundane world, and their souls can never rest within the earthly realm. Although the religious seminaries have produced many great mystics, the dominance of the scholars, often aligned with strict interpretations, has meant that true mysticism, guided by the Imams of the Ahl al-Bayt (peace be upon them), has not received the recognition it deserves. While seminary scholars promote practices like prayer, supplication, and commemorative gatherings to satisfy the spiritual yearnings of the people, the deeper, more profound aspects of mystical knowledge have remained largely untapped.

The mystical path that is most widely discussed in the Islamic world today is that of the Sunnis, represented by figures such as Ibn Arabi and his disciple Qunawi. Ibn Arabi regarded himself as the ultimate culmination of mysticism and spiritual authority. However, because this path is distanced from the familial culture of the Ahl al-Bayt, it has become tainted with theological concepts from Sunni orthodoxy, losing much of its purity. Although it does not bear the same political and deceitful connotations as Dervish mysticism, it still suffers from significant distortions. I have outlined my critiques of Sunni mysticism in a separate work.

Shia mystics, despite facing opposition from their own scholars, have continued to pursue mysticism after mastering hadith, tafsir (exegesis), logic, and philosophy. By prioritising intellect and loyalty to the Ahl al-Bayt, they have laid the foundation for a strong and authentic form of mysticism, backed by reasoned thought. Nevertheless, opposition from governments and more outwardly focused scholars has led to the marginalisation of Shia mysticism, resulting in Sunni mysticism becoming the mainstream, widely studied and disseminated in academic and religious circles, even among Shia individuals.

True Shia mystics, through persecution and intellectual isolation, have been pushed out of academic environments. For example, in the past fifty years, the revered figure, Ayatollah Mohammad Reza Qazvini, was driven into seclusion by such pressures, and Ayatollah Elahi Qomshaei’s stipend was cut. Even figures such as Ayatollah Shirani, one of Iran’s great philosophers, were pushed to the outskirts of academic institutions. The Shia mysticism articulated by figures like Imam Khomeini has been a source of immense intellectual and spiritual depth but faced immense opposition from conservative scholars and the political authorities. Consequently, mysticism rooted in Shia thought remained largely suppressed.

The isolation of true Shia mystics from academic environments, combined with the longing for spirituality that exists in the hearts of many Shia Muslims, especially in the land of Iran, has created an opening for the rise of more superficial mystical movements, particularly Dervishism. The term “Dervish” was commonly used among Persian speakers to denote individuals who adopted a carefree or indifferent attitude. Historically, Dervishism and Sufism were widespread, with even monarchs and courtiers adopting the title. However, by the Safavid era, the movement had lost its spiritual core, and the association between Dervishism and politics contributed to its downfall.

Today, a sharp distinction exists between traditional scholars and the Dervishes. While scholars focus on outward piety and intellectual pursuits, Dervishes emphasize inner spirituality and practical engagement with the mystical path. Yet, Dervishism today has become so corrupted by deviations and political entanglements that it no longer holds the same spiritual significance it once did.

In summary, the path of Shia mysticism has endured much suppression and distortion, yet it remains alive in the hearts of the faithful, offering a genuine connection to the divine. As the world confronts the challenges of spiritual exploration, it is crucial that true mystical knowledge is preserved, refined, and shared, in line with the teachings of the Imams of Ahl al-Bayt, ensuring a path of purity and authenticity that transcends the superficiality of many modern mystical movements.

The author speaks of the dervishes based on their own observations rather than hearsay. Sufism and dervishhood have been led astray in many ways because, while they were people of the path, they failed to find the correct way.

Religious scholars, on the other hand, do not face such deviations. They adhere to the Shari’ah, which serves as a safeguard, ensuring their preservation. The clergy remain sacred and healthy, neither becoming dependent on outsiders nor allowing external forces to infiltrate them. Their system is resistant to corruption. It is possible, of course, that someone within their ranks might deviate, but they do not accept corruption from the outside. Some clerics may be misguided and innovate in religion, but they do not seek guidance from others in their misguidance, and this is the merit of the clergy.

I have examined all professions and religions, and it was with full awareness that I joined the clerical circle and became a scholar. Before becoming a seminary student, I explored various fields and became familiar with the strengths and weaknesses of each profession. I found that despite the closed nature of the seminaries and the clerical community, they remain unsullied, unlike other fields, which are either under foreign influence or are less healthy. The seminary and the clergy are under the divine protection of the Imam of the Time (may Allah hasten his reappearance) and other infallible figures, and the blood of Shia martyrs has ensured their preservation. Although their movement may at times slow down and become restricted, it will accelerate when the time is right. Any external influence entering will be eradicated under the guidance of these figures, and internal deviants, even if they gain social power, will eventually be exposed after their death and vanish. Other religious scholars from various sects are not like this; they can be mercenaries and dependent.

Clerics are generally free and liberal in their stance. If a government acts against religious principles, they are not afraid to voice their objections. They are not dependent on the state, and they do not repeat things out of necessity. However, dervishes and Sufis, when in need, are seen to succumb to colonial influences and join masonic circles. In the long list of Freemasons, one can find dervishes, but not clerics. If stones were to fall upon my head in Qom, I would still prefer it to other centers, and I take pride in being a seminary student. The clergy have an ancient sanctity, and there is no foreign influence within them; this is a virtue that is rarely appreciated. To illustrate this, one can refer to the following hadith: A believer once went to Imam Sadiq (AS) and complained of poverty. The Imam asked, “Are you willing to give up your love for us and our guardianship in exchange for anything you desire?” The man replied, “No.” The Imam responded, “How then can you say you are poor, despite having such a treasure?” Similarly, we, despite the many obstacles in our way and the influential superficialists who create many barriers for us, thank God, have a great treasure: we possess health in this world and felicity in the hereafter, and the world also trusts and believes in our well-being.

The clergy have always believed in religion, and although they have suffered throughout history from the dry, narrow-minded, and reactionary elements who have sometimes been able to ride the waves of power, the true clergy, guided by their patron, Imam al-Zamana (may Allah hasten his reappearance), have worked not for their own livelihood but solely to feel a sense of connection to the Imam.

Today, dervishhood and Sufism represent a form of carelessness and liberalism. Many of their supposed miracles are lies, and most of the books that publish these miracles, offering nothing but praise for dervishes and recounting fabricated stories, should not be believed. Some of these “miracles” are even mentioned for certain ascetic scholars who are not truly knowledgeable and have only engaged in physical austerities, often in a crude and unrefined way, and have experienced extraordinary phenomena as a result. Such phenomena, however, hold no true spiritual value and are often less significant than the feats of non-believing ascetics and do not reflect the individual’s inner health or knowledge.

Though Sufism originally had truth in its inception, time, particularly during the Safavid period when dervishes held power, introduced events that led to its corruption. As a result, its structure decayed, its content became false, and it became embroiled in turmoil.

A Sufi in the past was someone who wore a woolen cloak to impose discipline upon themselves and to purify their soul. Sufis sought not only to follow the outer aspects of Shari’ah but also to attain a form of power capable of controlling the world and to partake in the divine graces bestowed upon the Prophets. Sufism, in its original form, was a means of self-purification and of drawing nearer to the Prophets. The essence of Sufism and dervishhood was based on this, and they sought to look beyond the rituals of prayer, fasting, and other religious duties and focus on the inner dimension of worship.

Initially, Sufism had three core principles: awareness within the framework of Shari’ah, asceticism, and devotion, which would be realised through finding a true guide. Dervishhood originally held sanctity, and the poet refers to this kind of Sufism when he writes:

“A dervish is one without malice,
Whose heart is free from all impurities,
His conduct is his habitual nature,
And his heart, like a mirror, is filled with sincerity and purity.”

The way of the dervishes was one of inner purity, where their hearts harboured no malice. Their hearts were free from corruption, and in order to reflect the divine attributes, they sought to maintain this purity. A true dervish does not possess arrogance or dictatorship, and their heart is soft. Such a person is humble and approachable, desiring to live simply and without causing harm to others. Their family feels safe in their presence, and they are sincere and honest with them. Even when others show disrespect, they remain composed.

From what has been said about the dervishes, it should not be understood that we are endorsing contemporary Sufism; rather, we are merely discussing its initial motivation, which has now faded and transformed, losing its original identity.

We assert with certainty that today, dervishhood is separate from mysticism, and a mystic is distinct from a dervish. While mystics seek similar goals to the dervishes, not every mystic possesses what a dervish seeks. There are also some simple, naive individuals among the dervishes, but they lose their way under the guise of asceticism and abandon their families and worldly possessions, retreating to a monastery, silent and isolated. This way of life is rejected by religion, just as the Shari’ah does not endorse those who have become mere externalists, having lost their inner essence.

For the first time in the Shiite school of thought, the author, through the writing of this book, outlines “the science of practical mysticism” based on the teachings of the Ahl al-Bayt (AS), explaining the most important principles and rules that guide the seeker towards the unseen and spirituality. This book is the result of four years of teaching this science to a selected group of seminary students in Qom, which began on 30th September 2005 and ended on 18th August 2009. These students have been with the author for at least ten years. The results of this class have shown that this plan is successful, and a seeker who diligently follows the mentioned principles and rules can, at least naturally, reach this station within ten years. However, it is important to emphasize that what is presented in this book must be operationalized under the guidance of an experienced mentor, as practical mysticism is not something that can simply be learned through instruction; it is a fully developmental and educational process, akin to the verse: “The more you read, if you do not act, you remain ignorant.”

Reading the theoretical solutions and principles in this book does not take much time, but implementing some of these principles requires years of effort. What matters most is that the seeker pursues the experience of mystical and spiritual matters, and this book serves as a guide to ensure that the path is not lost and that Shi’ite mysticism is distinguished from false forms of mysticism. We acknowledge that this book requires a spiritual mentor, a divine teacher who can be found among the seminaries, though it is lamentable that seminaries are still lacking in this area. The mysticism that is promoted in these institutions is one based on asceticism, where the focus is on restraining the self from all things, and the knowledge imparted is often trivial and childish, rather than based on true knowledge and love, which has its roots in the lofty, monotheistic, and divine mysticism of the Ahl al-Bayt (AS).

Shari’ah, through the institution of religious duties, attempts to engage its followers with spiritual matters to a necessary degree, taking into account the general condition of people. Those who possess the capacity for spiritual journey should seek this knowledge in non-juristic areas. The general population, like those who exercise at home, is encouraged to engage in basic spiritual practices. However, a true seeker is like an athlete who goes to the gym and is trained by a mentor. Islam does not wish for people to be heavily burdened with spiritual duties, but rather for them to not entirely sever their connection with the spiritual realm. A Muslim is only required to perform seventeen units of prayer daily and ensure that their dealings and consumption are lawful, which does not demand much effort. God does not want people to engage deeply in spiritual matters, but simply not to neglect them entirely, as spiritual attainment cannot be achieved without love, and the path requires one to engage in it with devotion.

The Secret must be a gift within the soul of the seeker; otherwise, a person cannot attain spiritual presence simply by studying mysticism or by using paper and pen. Being a person of spiritual presence is a characteristic of the saints of God and is not something that can be taught or acquired. It is not the case that someone can become a person of spiritual presence, perform miracles, or gain divine powers through academic study or practice. One must have the potential for spiritual journeying, and a teacher, along with their spiritual guidance, only helps to polish this hidden treasure, but does not create it; as was discussed in the original topic of “having the potential for spiritual journeying.”

It is true that some people attempt to obtain the Name of the Lord by reading supplications such as the Greater or Lesser Jawshan, but the true path to knowledge of it is for the seeker to first surrender their own existence to the Almighty so that they may become capable of having aspiration and reaching the divine. The Name of the seeker can be found along the way among the names of the divine. Reaching the Lord, the grace, and knowledge of God is a divine gift that cannot be attained by cleverness, study, practice, or using tricks. These things are entirely a matter of divine grace, and have no connection to one’s knowledge or lack thereof. While those who possess complete knowledge and are in the state of divine unity may find themselves naturally entering scholarly domains, being a scholar is not necessarily a sign of being a person of divine knowledge. Similarly, worldly matters are also a matter of natural disposition, and many possess an innate ability for them. Some also possess an innate inclination towards the pursuit of truth. However, if a person does not have the potential for spiritual journeying, spending time with spiritual companions can awaken their latent potential, and it is not the case that spiritual guides or those who are experienced can only help those who already have the potential for spiritual journeying. Rather, they bring forth every potential into its appropriate form.

None of the prophets of God learned prophethood from another. Prophet Seth, despite having seen Prophet Adam, and Prophet Moses, despite having served Prophet Shu’ayb for ten years, and Prophets Ishmael, Isaac, and Lot, despite having witnessed Prophet Abraham, did not learn the office of prophethood from them. Instead, each prophet brings forth their own inner dispositions, and God is the teacher of them all. The spiritual journey is like reason, which is a divine gift: “Reason is a gift from God, while etiquette is an acquired effort.” Reason is not acquired through study, but knowledge can be. Knowledge is something that can be learned, but divine knowledge is a gift from God. It is God who grants the potential for spiritual journeying to some and not to others. This granting is also a form of potential, and some individuals have an innate connection to the unseen world, even though God will not send any new legislative prophets, as He has sealed prophethood. Such a person, through turning inward, may receive knowledge of the unseen. For this reason, the prophethood of the prophets is not suspended in the period of the Occultation; the phrase “There is no prophet after me” pertains solely to legislative prophethood. The potential for spiritual journeying is like the natural ability for poetry in a poet, which is not negated by any period, as these matters are not contractual, but rather they relate to the individual’s creation and nature. In the time of the Occultation, there are non-legislative prophets who possess inner knowledge but do not claim to be prophets or make any declarations. They may receive inspiration from the unseen, but they do not claim to be recipients of revelation. This is similar to the sayings of Luqman, who is wise but not a prophet. The conclusion is that not everyone can be a seeker, and knowledge is not something that can be acquired. Anyone who seeks mysticism must first test themselves to see if they can connect with the transcendent or not. If, over the course of many years, they have experienced even a single spiritual moment, they should realise they are capable of spiritual journeying and prepare themselves for a connection to the unseen and the attainment of spiritual stations. Otherwise, they will not be able to succeed, and study alone will not lead them to the spiritual path. The spiritual journey is like leadership and nobility, which cannot be acquired or learned, but must be present naturally. A true seeker who possesses this nature will have their prayers answered, will have the ability to influence certain events, and what they say may come to pass. Otherwise, engaging in mystical practices will only lead them astray and take away their worldly well-being.

The beloved of the people of knowledge, upon descending into the earthly realm, see the essence of their own being. They see the world with closed eyes, and they are not bound by the verse: “And that man shall have nothing but what he strives for.” Seekers, however, do not strive in the same manner; they naturally enter the path of spiritual journeying and discover the innate traces of spiritual knowledge that are embedded within them. The potential for spiritual journeying is like the gift of the evil eye, where a person’s gaze can direct someone to their grave or cause harm without any intent. If they look at a camel, it may end up in a pot. The evil eye is not something acquired; it is a hidden power in the soul, and it is only when the soul manifests its inner power through the gaze that it can cause harm. Similarly, a person with the potential for spiritual journeying possesses an inner sense, allowing them to perceive the end of a person with a mere glance. I have seen two mystics in the cemetery, both of whom were sovereigns of the inner world. I also saw a grave digger who had worked in the cemetery for fifty years and had seen nothing but decayed bones. A person with the potential for spiritual journeying has a system of perception in their soul that can pick up the frequencies of the unseen world. The seeker, having this potential, must focus on uncovering their inner self, polishing it through the rules and practices of the journey, and discovering and elevating their hidden power of connection to the unseen. This discovery, however, may take several years. The spiritual journey has stages, and a seeker may remain in one stage for several years or forever. Learning within knowledge has no effect except for polishing, stabilising, and ensuring confidence. Spiritual training is not a method for creating the potential for spiritual journeying, but it is effective in polishing and nurturing it. It is like a poet who naturally creates poetry but, if they learn the subtleties and techniques of poetry, their works will become even more refined.

Regarding knowledge, one must search for less water and focus on thirst, so they can find water not by taking it from others but from within their own being. The seeker must go in pursuit of the hidden treasure and find the inner gold and pearls within their own shell. A seeker who recognises their own latent potential as soon as possible will quickly reach the spiritual knowledge embedded within themselves. The spiritual journey is much easier in youth than in old age when the human body becomes hardened and fragile. Every hardship is more likely to break it at that time. The seeker must spend as much time in solitude as possible, avoiding the distractions of the multiplicity of the world, and gradually lighten their burdens. A person seeking the spiritual path must recognise that it is not something that can be achieved simply by acquiring knowledge. It requires an innate potential and a connection to a mentor who will guide them to uncover their inner treasures through purification, introspection, discipline, solitude, and self-reflection.

Anyone who performs all the tasks and engages in the spiritual path but has gone astray is mistaken in their approach. A person can only be a true seeker (salik) if they can remove the worldly grief and sorrow from themselves. They should not have debts or loans and must be able to reduce their worldly desires, avoiding excessive ambitions. All worldly wishes should be left behind for others, and they should not take on the burden of fulfilling these desires themselves. Otherwise, their nighttime lament will be for unfulfilled and unattainable desires. Such individuals are satisfied with merely having a pleasant or terrifying dream and do not have the capacity or expectation for more. Anyone who wants both this world and the next, to satisfy themselves, their community, their family, and everyone else simultaneously, has an illusion of spirituality. What spiritual path can such a person follow? The first step in the spiritual journey is the ability to bear lightness and avoid excessive desires. For example, a seeker who aspires to own a car and becomes preoccupied with acquiring its accessories is someone fixated on materialism who cannot be in seclusion. A seeker should aim to live with only the barest necessities, even if this may lead to conflict with a spouse. The seeker must find a way to reconcile these matters wisely and with tact, ensuring no expectations are placed on them and no harm comes to their household. They should build a bridge between themselves and their daily life, maintaining their relationship with their family without being overwhelmed by it. They must eat, but not like everyone else; sleep, but not like others. They should remain in solitude even while being with others, and be with others while in solitude, so that no one truly understands their condition. Otherwise, no one will live with them.

The brief lives of people today and the many desires that cloud human minds do not allow anyone to enter the spiritual path unless they lighten their burden, abandon excessive desires, and refrain from worldly manifestations, without causing harm to others or neglecting their family’s rights.

This principle asserts that a true seeker is someone who experiences the pain, burning, and sorrow of separation within their soul. They must be simple and humble, undaunted by the loneliness or rejection of family, friends, or acquaintances, keeping themselves free from the slightest temptation toward deceit, cunning, or worldly cleverness. If these qualities are not present, before embarking on the spiritual journey, one must cultivate this mindset within themselves. A true seeker often experiences the yearning to cry, feeling abandoned and isolated, a condition of suffering. However, in seeking this state, one must not engage in sin, for any mystical path that promotes sin to reach such a state is misguided, not enlightened. A true seeker is shaped by God’s discipline, facing natural hardships and calamities that cause grief, and being submerged by the waves of difficulties. The fires of suffering burn at their very core. This person does not require superficial comforts. On the spiritual path, no seeker is welcomed with sweet lemon drinks; the journey forces them into the flames of hardship, preventing outsiders from approaching the path. The measure for recognizing this potential is the ability to endure any hardship. Those who cannot bear such suffering should not waste their time on it. Such individuals are better suited for other pursuits. Mysticism takes everything from the seeker. The path is one of reduction and not growth. On this path, the seeker must gradually shed their former self, having no reserve for the future. They do not think about the evening during the day, nor the future, but when night falls, they are content with what they have received, whether it is food or hunger. Hunger is considered their portion and sustenance.

The presence of a seeker is often incompatible with the people of their time because society has established rules and patterns for living that do not align with the seeker’s life. The seeker must undergo spiritual exercises to reach this space. These exercises vary, starting with reducing daily intake, followed by sleeplessness and overwork. The seeker must be trained so that they can control their body and desires, not allowing the body or soul to dominate them, but instead, they must have control over them with ease. However, it is important to avoid extremes, and this process must be carried out continuously, whether slowly or quickly. Any form of self-harm or harm to oneself is forbidden on this path, as it contradicts the teachings of Shiite culture. The seeker must reach a state where they are no longer offended by the humiliation of others. Anyone who still feels the slightest discomfort in their own being is vulnerable to polytheism.

For someone who is not yet in this state and wishes to direct their thoughts and body toward this spiritual space, it is difficult for them, as they have become accustomed to a different path. Shifting from one direction to another requires great effort, much like swimming against the current of water. Similarly, for someone who has become accustomed to the outward form, transitioning to the inner realm requires rigorous discipline and effort, just as someone who is accustomed to the inner realm struggles to engage with the outward form. Their mental space for the outward world is vastly different from the mental space of those focused on the inner world, and shifting between the two is exhausting and disorienting. A person who has specialized in a particular field may find that their expertise becomes an obstacle when asked to engage in something else. Likewise, someone with an inclination for spiritual practice must approach it as a child does when learning new things, without preconceived notions or rigid frameworks. A child is naturally adaptable and learns quickly, whereas an adult has a harder time adapting to new ways of thinking, even if the knowledge is beneficial.

This is the first principle of the spiritual journey: one must have the innate potential for it. Anyone wishing to enter the realm of mysticism must approach it scientifically and systematically, not according to their personal likes and dislikes. They must understand their own existential nature and, if they feel a deep inner inclination toward the divine, revelation, and love of God, they should pursue it. Otherwise, they will only waste their potential in areas where they are not naturally inclined.

It must be understood that “everyone is guided to what they are created for.” Each person has a unique existential structure and is naturally inclined toward a specific task. That structure makes the individual more adept at one path while other paths are more difficult and delayed. Someone whose nature is to seek God is inclined toward mysticism and, with the guidance of a teacher and adherence to the principles of the journey, can reach the highest spiritual levels and discover the elixir of their soul through self-examination. They are like a poet who, if they do not cultivate their natural talent, may lose it and become like a spring whose flow is blocked, eventually drying up. A person with the potential for mysticism must constantly engage with it to maintain the flow and depth of their spiritual insight.

Having the potential for mysticism is not the same as simply desiring it. Many desires are mere fantasies that do not align with one’s inherent nature. However, if a person spends enough time with a mystic, they may begin to adopt the flavor of mysticism, much like how someone exposed to a certain environment might eventually become influenced by it. Our discussion here pertains to those who are truly capable of reaching the highest levels of spiritual insight, the prophets and saints of God, who are capable of embracing the unseen and exerting control over spiritual realities. The seeker must not merely adhere to mysticism but must be attuned to it through their own inherent capacity. Many prayers or practices that have no effect on some individuals fail because they lack the ability to perceive the unseen.

A child with the potential for mysticism may experience sudden, intense spiritual states that concern their parents, who might mistake these signs for madness. However, this child is not insane, but rather a special being who is incapable of leading a normal life due to their extraordinary nature. Societies are often unable to accept such extraordinary energy, and therefore, these children are often seen as mad. Similarly, an adult with unchannelled spiritual energy may turn to destructive behavior if not properly guided. Such a child must be allowed to release their inner turmoil in their early years, so they grow up to be balanced adults.

Anyone wishing to enter the path of mysticism must first undergo a trial with a seasoned teacher. If they have the potential, they should dedicate their time; otherwise, they will waste their resources without any fruitful results, remaining in the same place they started. The entrance of a seeker must be controlled and selected, not simply accepted. Unfortunately, many spiritual centers, particularly those seeking numbers, accept anyone who expresses interest in mysticism and Sufism, which can lead to disarray in their lives. Many who have committed sins before entering such paths end up disillusioned with mysticism and Sufism and may turn to harmful practices or become dangerous individuals.

I recall that once a great scholar, with a long white beard, came to the late Mr. Agha alahi Qomshaei and said, “I have dedicated my life to jurisprudence, and now I wish to learn mysticism from you.” The late alahi responded, “You have the choice; please, you are our great one, you are a master.” The scholar insisted, “I want to be in your presence to learn mysticism.” Again, Mr. alahi praised him and called him a great scholar, to the extent that the scholar became disheartened and left. I asked Mr. alahi, “When someone turns towards mysticism and philosophy, you drive him away like this?” He replied, “This person has just begun to enjoy the sweetness of mysticism; let him leave this world with this sweetness. If he comes and we say a few words about mysticism, his mind is closed, and he won’t accept it. He does not have the potential for this.” I was astounded by the insight of Mr. alahi and admired him. Mr. alahi was truly a detached person, and if I were to give an example of someone like him in the realm of spirituality, I would point to the late Mr. Agha Morteza, who was similarly detached in every sense. When Mr. Agha Morteza Haeri passed away, and I was performing the funeral prayer for him, I said the phrase “I have seen nothing but good from him” with complete sincerity. Though Mr. alahi was a mystic and Mr. Agha Morteza was solely a jurist, these two seemed to be one person, born of the same father. The greatness of these two men suggests that true excellence is not achieved by reading mysticism, but rather it lies in the purity of one’s essence, one’s nature, and the purity of their nourishment and origins.

Principle 1: Focus on the Path

One who recognises the potential for mysticism within themselves and sees it as their ultimate goal, without any desire for personal gain, should regard mysticism as their primary pursuit and place other matters second. If someone feels that the unseen realms are revealed to them from childhood, they should focus solely on the path of mysticism that God has set before them. A person who realises their mystic potential but seeks to engage in everything else will never be able to fully develop this potential. Yes, a mystic who has already reached the goal can engage in other matters, but a novice mystic should focus only on their mystical path, with God alone as their ultimate aim. A person who seeks to attain everything, including God, will never truly become a mystic and will never experience revelation, miracles, or spiritual authority. What distinguishes the saints of God from others is their exclusive attachment to God. They choose mysticism and the pursuit of God as their primary aim.

One who has the potential for mysticism should be content with the minimal worldly needs and should never make them their primary goal. Instead, they should invest all their efforts, especially in finding a guide on this path, in seeking mysticism as their lost treasure and placing it above all else. If someone prioritises worldly matters, wealth, knowledge, or philosophy and finds no attraction to mysticism, they should test their potential with a mentor. If they do not have the aptitude for mysticism, they should invest their energy in other pursuits. If someone has a mystical potential but engages in pursuits like acquiring knowledge as their primary goal, that very pursuit will hinder their spiritual progress, and their guide should limit such distractions with specific exercises. A person’s relationship with their abilities and interests should not be like a shepherd pushing his flock forward indiscriminately but should resemble the movement of a caravan where one leads and others follow.

Principle 2: Discovering the Method of the Path

In addition to having the potential for mysticism, a seeker must understand their own particular method or approach. They should identify their unique strengths so they can work with them more effectively and direct their efforts towards the deeper layers of their being, striving for the pure waters of knowledge. Without this understanding, the seeker’s path will become dry.

Lovers of knowledge have different methods, each suited to their individual nature. Some grow through sincerity, clarity, certainty, and trust, following the guidance of a spiritual teacher and progressing towards spiritual insights and divine realities. Others may need to engage in physical discipline, solitude, and constant remembrance to attain results. There are mystics who, in complete seclusion, would avoid any distractions and dedicate themselves entirely to their inner journey, sometimes even forgetting the existence of others. However, this method is often less effective for scholars, as their academic pursuits can hinder their ability to engage in meaningful spiritual practices.

These methods of purity, humility, and sincerity bring the seeker closer to God, while arrogance, pride, and selfishness are gradually eliminated. Some followers succeed by adhering to the advice of previous mystics and benefiting from their experiences. However, the knowledge contained in the books of mystics, though useful for general information, is often incomplete for a true seeker, who requires more than just theoretical understanding.

Some followers adopt a mentor-centered approach, coordinating their actions with the guidance of a teacher. These individuals have access to a spiritual healer who can identify their psychological ailments and provide remedies. This method is the most challenging, and few can endure with such teachers, whose transformative powers resemble those of Christ in their healing touch. Such mystics are often scholars themselves, but their primary vocation is mysticism, with worldly concerns secondary. To them, the world fades from view.

Scholars rarely enter this group, as most believe themselves to be accomplished in every aspect of jurisprudence and struggle to humble themselves before a teacher. If a lover of wisdom possesses both sincerity and the ability to follow guidance and is able to truly understand their teacher, their chances of success are significantly higher. However, it is difficult for a scholar to find harmony with a teacher, as they must understand not only the theory but also the nuances of mystical teachings and practices. Contemporary seminaries need such scholars, but they are exceedingly rare, and most of the twenty thousand students admitted each year are not suited to the path of mysticism. Mystics should be individuals who are not merely blind followers, but who engage with mysticism thoughtfully, logically, and humbly, avoiding arrogance, coercion, and causing harm to others. If someone is ill-tempered or causes harm, it is better for them to stay away from this path. A scholar must pursue three goals to become a true mystic: first, they must be knowledgeable and accomplished in their field; second, they must be approachable, compassionate, and able to connect with others; third, they must possess the qualities of a true mystic and be recognised for their inner transformations.

As a mystic progresses and approaches the summit of spiritual understanding, they face increasing risks of falling. They must seek refuge in God, for if He does not wish to accompany them, He will break their steps. The best path is for the mystic to be sincere with God.

Some seekers travel the earth, seeking the truth wherever they go. They stay with scholars or mystics, learning from them before continuing their journey. Others choose the path of service, dedicating themselves to helping others without seeking personal gain, not even engaging in study.

There are also those who choose the path of humility. They suppress their own ego to avoid being seen as significant or respected by others. I knew of a teacher who, though fully capable of independent scholarly work, humbled himself so much that people saw him as a simple, uninformed person. He would only read a simple women’s funeral prayer, incorporating the Hadith of the Cloak. Despite having the right to issue legal rulings, he turned away from all titles and privileges, including his scholarly and social status.

Solitude, asceticism, travel, and service to a teacher without expecting any reward over a long period will undoubtedly yield results. However, what is common across all these paths is that they require extended time and effort. None of these methods yield immediate results; they require years of service, solitude, remembrance, detachment, and humility before profound spiritual changes appear in the seeker’s inner being.

Some of the seekers also become warriors, enduring many hardships and afflictions, bearing every difficulty without complaining, being stingy, playing games, trying to outwit others, or taking on multiple jobs. While mysticism has followers among other religions and schools of thought—whose paths, of course, are not endorsed by religious law—they are still able to access certain layers of the unseen and extraordinary realms, as well as powers beyond ordinary understanding. However, religious scholars, if they wish to engage in spiritual practice and possess all the necessary prerequisites, will find that their mystical journey amounts to nothing more than daydreaming. A scholar who seeks to teach, be socially active, engage in political struggle, deliver sermons, buy a house, own a car, and, in short, live an ordinary life, while offering no sacrifice for God, cannot become a true lover of the path. This is only possible for a rare few who have been devoted to the way since their childhood.

In any case, a seeker must first understand to which of these groups they belong. They must know which method aligns with their inner nature and follow it. A seeker whose method is “serving the teacher” does not need to retreat into solitude, nor should one whose nature is suited to seclusion turn to physical travel; otherwise, they will be deprived of the inward journey. Seekers are diverse, and each person must identify which path suits their nature and pursue it, or else their journey will become long and difficult. This is why many mystical texts and their advice do not align with the needs of many seekers and yield no results, leaving them exhausted and disillusioned. A seeker must consult with an experienced teacher to discover their true nature and receive guidance. Once a seeker finds the right path, blessings will pour upon them, so much so that they cannot collect them all. These blessings hover in the heavens for a long time, waiting to descend upon a worthy seeker. But due to greed, haste, and various distractions, they may miss the chance to receive them.

Principle: Avoiding Distraction and Wandering in Divine Matters

A seeker must know that their most valuable asset is their time, which can only be spent towards one goal using a single method. There is no room for trial and error or jumping between different paths.

A seeker needs to find their specific method, which is naturally linked to the teacher they follow. The seeker must find a skilled and experienced teacher who follows an efficient and effective approach. Sometimes a teacher may instruct the seeker to undertake a journey or may draw them into separation. For one seeker, the teacher may prescribe pain; for another, effort. This depends both on the individual student’s abilities and on their varying stages and states. The journey to love, closeness, and grace is shaped by the teacher’s guidance, with love and devotion revolving around the teacher’s wisdom.

A seeker must find this center of focus and dedicate the wealth of their life to it. They must recognize their own path to understand where they are heading. Along the way, they need a mentor, whose love and guidance lead them, much like the Prophet Muhammad, who is the ultimate model for all seekers, as described in the Qur’an: “Indeed, in the Messenger of Allah, you have an excellent example” (33:21). The seeker must receive permission from their teacher regarding their use of sustenance, clothing, and daily expenditures, as these should be in alignment with their spiritual development. Occasionally, a disciple may advance beyond their teacher, who, without any jealousy, may refer the disciple to a stronger mentor or to a spiritual leader who can provide more effective guidance.

It is through divine grace that a seeker finds an experienced, healthy teacher who has a sound and effective plan for the journey. Many seekers who do not reach their goal do not suffer from internal weakness but from the lack of a proper, systematic, and coherent method. Before taking any step, the seeker must understand their goal and path and be confident in its correctness. Otherwise, they may build their journey on weak ground, which will collapse and lead them into failure, causing great harm. This is akin to entering an unclean environment without proper equipment, where one will soon fall ill.

Spiritual practice is only healthy when it possesses three key elements: first, wisdom must guide it, and irrational or baseless practices must be excluded. The seeker must be wise and base their actions on sound reasoning and philosophy, avoiding simplistic or naive approaches. Second, the mystical method chosen by the seeker must be in harmony with an unadulterated religious law, and third, any revelations or mystical experiences should be measured against these two standards, ensuring the safety and integrity of their path.

A seeker progresses in proportion to the goal they set for themselves. It is like someone who aims to jump over a stream, focusing their energy on the width of the stream and preparing themselves accordingly. Similarly, each seeker progresses based on their own goal, using their abilities in a manner aligned with that goal. However, determining the goal and undertaking actions in alignment with it is the responsibility of the teacher. Therefore, those who lack a teacher have no clear goal and tend to wander aimlessly, drifting through different paths and practices. They resemble someone who leaves their house without a clear purpose, only to wander aimlessly from street to street. They have no destination and, like the idle, their journey is without purpose. A worldly person, in contrast, is less likely to wander unless they are unemployed. If someone knows they must be at their office at 8 a.m., even if a guest arrives, they will apologise and be on time. However, some scholars neglect their lessons for the sake of honouring a guest more than fulfilling their primary duty of acquiring knowledge.

In the world, everything can be considered wandering unless it is done with love for the work itself, not for material gain. If someone loves their work, they will do it with passion, and not for financial reward; otherwise, they steal from their work.

Wandering in matters of faith and divine knowledge also results in nothing. One who reads one prayer today and another tomorrow, or takes one path today and another the next, without considering whether these practices are suitable for them or beneficial, is merely amusing themselves. Such a person is like a child who, seeing something, demands it without understanding its value. They want everything but are incapable of understanding the true purpose behind it. They act like someone who wants everything but nothing, and when given something, they discard it, but if denied, they cry out. Their soul is restless, and they seek distraction, yet the true seeker must first master one field of knowledge and internalize it before moving on to another.

Wandering in spiritual matters yields no result. A person who constantly shifts from one prayer or path to another, without considering whether they align with their true nature or whether they are beneficial, is merely passing the time. Prayers and supplications are like medicine, which should be prescribed by a specialist, especially when recited with intention. Someone who reads several volumes of prayers or the entire “Mafatih al-Jinan” without understanding the purpose will soon tire and become disillusioned, or even spiritually hardened. However, if the recitation is for the sake of spiritual news and awareness, it is not without merit. The mere engagement in these practices brings some benefit, allowing the person to temporarily detach from worldly affairs. However, this approach will not open any spiritual doors for the person, nor will it guide them on their journey. Much of such activity lacks true spiritual meaning and is rooted in selfishness, which is why we discuss the abandonment of selfishness and greed as core principles.

The Disciple Must Abandon All Desire

It must be stated that the seeker should rid themselves of all desire, as the negation of any desire leads to the negation of having any goal. Furthermore, the absence of desire prevents an individual from regarding rules, principles, and laws as part of their own framework, or from considering the spiritual principles of conduct as essential. However, the seeker is one who abides by these principles and rules, yet does not give them absolute importance. The goals of the seeker are mere appearances; they serve as tools and means, rather than standing as the ultimate aim. It is not that the seeker stands by themselves; they traverse these principles one by one, but not by their own steps. Rather, it is the steps of the Divine that lead them forward. Words like manifestation (tajalli), attachment (ta‘alluq), divinity (ta‘luh), resemblance (tashabbuh), attainment (tahallum), and realization (tahqquq) are all derived from the form of tafa‘ul in Arabic, which means the doer has no inherent role, unlike the form of ta‘fil where the doer has presence and plays a role.

When Imam Sadiq (AS) says: “When you leave your house, act as though you will never return” [6], this is because the doer has no role, and the one who is with them is the one who returns, and they alone are sufficient; the individual need not return. In this way, no task is left undone, and the One does all the work. The seeker has this state of mind and breathes in this atmosphere. Of course, saying these things, though difficult, can be sweet, but their actualization is neither easy nor sweet for someone who is not in love, for human nature is selfish, and people fear harm and loss. Overcoming this requires very hard and painful surgeries.

The Principle of Maintaining Order, Discipline, and Timekeeping

Another important principle in spiritual conduct is maintaining discipline and order. The seeker must respect the time they dedicate to their spiritual journey or when they are in the presence of their spiritual mentor. If the mentor observes that their disciple does not respect their scheduled times, they will deem the work with them suspended, not because they want to stop the work, but because disorder inherently leads to the suspension of progress. This is not because the spiritual mentor chooses to halt the work. My personal experience has shown that spiritual work within the religious seminaries is extremely challenging and requires great caution; those who are far from us and listen to our lectures are often more successful than those who are close to us. Spiritual matters are not obtained through questioning, doubting, or disorder; rather, spiritual mentors distance themselves from those who exhibit such traits. A true mentor in this field is capable of remaining unaffected and composed.

I have probably worn out over thirty watches in my life. I would always arrange myself in such a way that I would wake up a second before the alarm sounded, then I would turn it off. The watch serves as a very useful tool for organizing tasks. The seeker should set their watch but strive to wake up or remember their tasks before the alarm rings and use the watch only as a reminder to keep their schedule organized. They should sleep with the watch and wake up with it, but their internal clock should alert them in such a way that they wake up a few minutes before the alarm sounds and turn it off or use it to recall other scheduled tasks.

The seeker must have a program for both their day and night, and it should not be the case that they follow their spiritual journey sporadically with no benefit. They should live precisely as an employee, arriving at their workplace or study on time, but even more accurately, knowing when to sleep, when to work, and having a structured program. Otherwise, even if they consider themselves a seeker for years, they will not see any results.

Spiritual Journey: A Path to the Hidden Realms

The belief in the unseen (ghayb) has always been prominent in all religions throughout history. The way of communication with the unseen world, which becomes possible through separation from the physical world (nasut), has given rise to many mystical traditions. Many people have longed for a connection with the unseen realms and have made unparalleled efforts to bridge the gap between themselves and these realms. Humans have tried many ways to reach the unseen, but Islam considers many of these methods as invalid and does not permit their use.

However, only a few have succeeded in accessing these realms, and their reports have confirmed the existence of the unseen for those who are unable to access these realms themselves. This is analogous to the few individuals in this world who have achieved significant discoveries or inventions. Nowadays, the production of fictional films, particularly in Europe and America, on the theme of entering non-material realms and the afterlife is very popular, though only a few of these explorations are not entirely illogical.

In the Islamic world, great Islamic mystics have followed specific spiritual paths to access these unseen worlds. Some philosophers and scholars, after years of studying and teaching, found the scientific jargon exhausting and, leaving it behind, wandered from one city to another, searching for a guide in this realm to study under them. They sought to experience the journey to the otherworldly realms. Outside the Islamic world, many have taken the path of asceticism, self-torture, and bodily suffering to detach from the physical world. They subjected their bodies to exhaustion and suffering so that their spirits could feel fear and escape from the body. Islam, however, rejects such practices, prohibiting physical harm and instead recommending prayer, worship, supplication, and other spiritual practices.

Shi’a mystics have achieved remarkable success in accessing these hidden realms, even more so than others. They have gained access to the unseen and the Divine realms through practices inspired by the Fourteen Infallibles (Ahl al-Bayt), using supplications, prayers, fasting, and other forms of worship. Their success in this regard surpasses that of other mystical traditions.

In contrast, some have attempted to communicate with the unseen through special foods, talismans, communication with jinn and spirits, visualization, and incense. They believed that foods like heavy bread, which takes time to be converted into blood, could help in this process. Similarly, substances like opium or the use of smoking devices were considered to lighten the blood and aid in accessing the unseen. However, while these substances might provide temporary relief or lightness to the spirit, they are also harmful and their usage is forbidden in Islam.

In the West today, there is a strong desire to attract individuals claiming to have communication with the unseen. The information and prophecies they provide are evaluated, and new forms of mysticism are being promoted to replace the outdated and ineffective Christianity and the Renaissance ideologies. Historically, rulers like Pharaoh and Nimrod used astrologers and sorcerers to gain knowledge of the unseen. Schools were established to teach the way of contacting the unseen, and many nations have devoted considerable resources to accessing such knowledge, often using trial and error. Despite these efforts, however, the West is still determined to conquer this realm, akin to their determination in space exploration.

In Shi’a mysticism, it is the ‘beloved ones’ who have dominion over all the hidden realms. Among those who have attained the unseen, no one has reached their level, and we will discuss them in a separate work. Shi’a mystics have recognized the Fourteen Infallibles (Ahl al-Bayt) as the sovereigns of all spiritual realms, and nothing happens in these realms without their consent. Their primary abode is in the unseen realms, and their presence in the physical world is exceedingly rare. As is narrated, Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) once said, “Speak to me, O Humaira” [7], which reflects the rare and exalted nature of their presence in the physical world.

Whether correct or not, the gravity of Aisha, which is a manifestation of the earthly realm, must have kept the Prophet in this world. In fact, Aisha can be regarded as the helmswoman of the body of the noble Prophet, peace be upon him, and otherwise, one of the ascensions of the Prophet could have been the last one. The Fourteen Infallibles, peace be upon them, and the eternally beloved ones of God differ from ordinary humans. While ordinary people strive to ascend and reach the unseen realms, those blessed beings, though present in the material world, have difficulty remaining in it.

The beloved ones are mystics who possess the unseen worlds from childhood. They have not attended a formal school, nor written any lines; with a mere glance, they have become scholars of hundreds of teachers. When they did not know how to write “sin” or “sad”, they were in contact with the unseen world, and their acquired knowledge was not learned in the school of this world. Before their eyes opened to the material realm, they were direct disciples of God, and the heavenly affairs manifested in their inner being, even though they were still barefoot children wandering the streets without formal education. The beloved, at a time when they had no knowledge of asceticism or mysticism, were already true mystics, and their knowledge was not learned.

After the beloved ones, there are the geniuses, who can comprehend both the unseen worlds and material knowledge without effort or hardship. In other words, the beloved ones possess the truths of all realms, while the geniuses, with a slight hint or inspiration, understand these truths sooner than others. The genius grasps what an ordinary person might only realize in years to come, understanding it twenty years ahead and having the ability to foresee distant futures. However, unlike the beloved ones, they cannot fully possess these truths. The genius does not toil for understanding truths but with minimal thought and reflection, they come to grasp a reality, unlike ordinary people who may spend years of education and still fail to fully comprehend it. The difference in talent between geniuses and ordinary individuals is like the difference between people’s sense of smell. One person can detect a scent from far away, while another might not even notice a strong odor right under their nose.

One group that can observe the lower realms of the unseen are the insane. They access the imaginative worlds through fantasies and mental images. They may suddenly see something or someone.

In this book, we discuss the way in which the followers of the beloved ones interact with the unseen worlds. The seeker, by adhering to the principles of spiritual practice outlined in this book, gains the power to travel through realms, achieving both knowledge and power. Knowledge in mysticism refers to the observation of extraordinary, otherworldly phenomena through revelation and investigation, while power involves performing extraordinary tasks, which have various forms.

The lovers must work hard and endure hardship to gain anything. The Islamic approach to entering this realm involves purity, piety, and ascetic practices, which can be achieved through prayer, fasting, supplication, and nightly vigils. The most important of these practices are found in the foundations of this book.

The spiritual journey of such seekers essentially consists of two parts: one is the entry and the principles of the journey, which teach its rules and foundations, and the other is the actualization and implementation of these principles, where real mysticism and spirituality take form and the heart’s visions or divine manifestations occur. Speaking about the principles of spiritual practice is merely talk and discussion; it is only a story. Someone who recites numerous mystic texts and writes about them but is merely a school teacher without any practical experience is not a true seeker. The seeker is someone who is immersed in the practice and transformation, not lost in discussing the foundations. They focus on the essence, not just on teaching. The seeker is like a radio receiver, tuning themselves to the frequency of the transmitter, and thus, they can absorb otherworldly phenomena such as the souls of the dead, angels, or divine truths.

Initially, the seeker may not be able to access the unseen realms with a specific goal, but once they acquire understanding, they can attune themselves to particular matters and control their connections under the supervision of their guide. However, the beloved ones possess such sensitivity and precision in their soul, body, and core of their being that the universe connects with them in a systematic and deliberate way. The seeker who wishes to connect with the world beyond the material realm needs a pure heart, an inner tranquility, a guide, instructions, purification, and a focused gathering of attention.

The seeker must cleanse themselves of distractions, even of good deeds, for true selflessness. A seeker who has gathered all their attention can no longer even see themselves; otherwise, they have not yet entered the spiritual realm. With these conditions, they can access the unseen realms, and jinn, angels, or other beings may appear in their heart, providing insights and visions. However, if they have the strength to endure it and do not fear, the unseen phenomena will approach them. Gradually, more subtle and silent manifestations of the unseen will occur for them. This person must not speak of these occurrences to anyone except their guide. Sometimes, a subtle vision or message may appear in their heart. Connecting with jinn is difficult for a seeker, but connecting with angels is even harder. The seeker progresses beyond human, angelic, jinn, animal, plant, and mineral realms and may see phenomena that do not belong to any of these categories, unknown to them, which they might mistake for a jinn or angel, as they have only these categories in their mind.

The seeker, having met the conditions and learned through sacrifice and selflessness, will not fear beings like jinn, angels, or others. God has made it so that the material world is securely bound, preventing easy access to other realms, so that not just anyone can freely enter the unseen.

The best time for the seeker to practice and engage in this pursuit is during the deep night, in solitude, calmness, and darkness, especially at dawn, the special time for lovers. Practicing during the day is very difficult, as the distractions of life impede it. Most of the visionary and inspirational experiences of lovers, who have brief access to the divine, are earthly, while the beloved ones are celestial and do not remain attached to the earth, as they do not concern themselves with the actions of others.

It is important to note that much of the early experiences of the seeker in their spiritual journey are imaginary and not real. They may think they have summoned the spirit of a deceased person, but it is only the imagination of their soul. The seeker has two types of spiritual connections: one that is within them, such as summoning spirits or visionary experiences tied to their own mind and imagination, and another that is far more significant and difficult, connecting with the separate world of examples, the barzakh, and other unseen realms.

Every individual must pursue what they are capable of according to their own capacity and ability. A person who merely reads about mysticism but does not practice it is like someone holding a map of the world but never experiencing it. Such a person, despite holding the map, gains no true benefit from it. On the other hand, one who actively practices mysticism is like an old farmer working the land, and the land yields its fruits, providing sustenance for many.

Many who are known as mystics are only confined to the early stages of practice, and some engage in asceticism without understanding its true purpose. They may gain fame but have not truly attained any knowledge or spiritual realization. Only a few, under the guidance of a master, follow the path of mysticism and truly experience the unseen realms.

Although it may or may not be correct, the weight of Aisha, which is a manifestation of the corporeal world, is what holds her in this world. In fact, Aisha can be considered the helmsman of the Prophet’s body, for otherwise, one of the Prophet’s ascensions might have been his final ascension. The Fourteen Infallibles and the eternal, beloved ones of God are distinct from ordinary humans. While ordinary humans strive for ascent and reaching the realms of the unseen, these individuals, despite being in the material world, struggle to remain in it.

The beloved ones are mystics who, from childhood, have an innate connection with the unseen realms. They did not attend any school, nor did they learn to write; with a mere glance, they have mastered knowledge far beyond what could be taught in a classroom. These beloved ones, at the time when they did not yet know how to write the letter “sin” or “sad”, were already in communication with the divine world. Their knowledge was not learned in the worldly school, but instead, before opening their eyes to the material world, they were students of God, and heavenly matters had already manifested within them, even when they were barefoot children, unaware of the material world. At that time, they were mystics, even though they did not know what asceticism, mysticism, or spiritual attainment meant. Their knowledge and connection were not gained through learning.

After the beloved ones, there are the geniuses who, without effort or hardship, can understand both the unseen realms and material knowledge. In other words, the beloved ones possess all the truths of the realms, but the geniuses are able to understand and access them faster, sometimes seeing them even before others. A genius can understand what an ordinary person will comprehend years later, and they have the ability to foresee distant events, although, like the beloved ones, they do not possess all-encompassing knowledge. A genius grasps the truth with little thought, while an ordinary person may take many years to grasp the same thing and may not fully understand it. The difference in understanding between a genius and an ordinary person is similar to the difference in their sense of smell—one person may smell something miles away, while the other may not even recognize a scent right in front of them.

One group that possesses the ability to perceive the lower realms of the unseen is the insane. Through imagination and visions, they can access the imaginative worlds. Suddenly, they may see something or someone.

In this book, we discuss how the lovers’ connection with the unseen realms occurs. A mystic, by following the principles of spiritual guidance mentioned in this book, gains the ability to traverse spiritual realms, gaining both knowledge and power. Knowledge, in the mystical sense, refers to the observation of extraordinary, non-physical phenomena, and power refers to performing extraordinary tasks in various forms.

The beloved ones must acquire knowledge through effort and hardship. Islam’s approach to entering this domain involves purity, piety, and asceticism, which can be achieved through practices such as prayer, fasting, supplication, and night vigils, all of which are outlined in the principles of this book.

The mystic’s journey consists of two main components: one is the initial steps and principles of the spiritual journey, which outline the rules and regulations; the other is the actualization and operationalization of these principles, attaining true mysticism, spiritual enlightenment, and having true spiritual experiences or divine manifestations. Discussing the principles of spiritual guidance is only theoretical; anyone who speaks or writes about these topics but does not personally experience them is not a mystic. A true mystic is someone who is actively involved in the process, embodies the teachings, and does not lose sight of the goal by focusing only on the theoretical aspects. They engage with the content and are not simply interested in learning for learning’s sake.

A mystic is like a radio receiver who tunes into the frequency of the transmitter and can absorb unseen phenomena, such as the souls of the dead, angels, or divine truths. Initially, the mystic may not be able to directly access specific phenomena but, as they gain knowledge, they can tune into specific matters and control their connections under the guidance of their spiritual teacher.

However, the beloved ones are so attuned and precise in their souls, bodies, and innermost being that the universe itself interacts with them in an organized and calculated manner. A mystic who wishes to connect with the unseen world must have a pure heart, a clean soul, a teacher, and proper guidance. They must also purify themselves and engage in introspection. A mystic must cleanse themselves from self-centeredness, ego, pride, and arrogance, for these are like wounds that must be cleaned and healed.

The best time for a mystic to practice and train in these matters is during the night, in solitude and comfort, especially at dawn, which is the special time for lovers of the divine. Choosing a day for practice is difficult, as the busyness and distractions of daily life interfere. Most mystical experiences and visions of those with limited spiritual reach are earthly, while the beloved ones are heavenly and rarely remain on earth. They do not concern themselves with what others are doing.

It should be noted that much of the initial contact that the mystic experiences with the unseen realms is often imaginary and not real. The mystic may believe they have summoned the spirit of a deceased person, but this may simply be an illusion of the mind. The mystic has two types of spiritual connections: direct and indirect. The direct connection involves experiences that arise within them, such as summoning spirits or having visionary experiences, which stem from their own mind and imagination. However, the indirect connection is much more significant and difficult to achieve; it involves entering the world of the imagination, the intermediary realm, and other unseen dimensions.

Every mystic must follow their own unique path, suited to their own abilities and capacities, as not everyone is capable of accessing the higher realms. Just as someone may study maps of the world without being able to navigate it, so too are many who speak about mysticism without actively engaging in it. Those who practice mysticism operationally, like a farmer working the soil, will reap the benefits and share the fruits of their efforts with others.

Over time, the mystic reduces the material aspects of their being and prepares themselves to receive or connect with the divine. Such a mystic dies before their physical death and, when they die, they realize they had already “died” and that there is nothing foreign or strange in the afterlife, for they have already encountered it in their spiritual journey.

The mystic cleanses all their impurities during their spiritual journey, unlike those who, upon death, see only the accumulated filth and impurities of their past actions. Such individuals, when they pass away, initially witness the consequences of their sins and impurities, which they must cleanse before they can access the higher realms.

A mystic who has purified themselves through their spiritual practices will enter the afterlife with purity, and their grave becomes a sanctuary of peace. For them, death is not a burden but a return to familiarity, as they have already encountered the divine before their physical departure.

If the result of the mystic’s journey and connection to the unseen realms were only this much, it would still be worth pursuing throughout one’s life. Such an individual prepares themselves for the afterlife and examines their actions before being judged, thus embodying the principle “Die before you die.” Through this, the mystic diminishes their ego and desires, choosing a path of balance and humility.

The mystic’s relationship with their own ego is like a wound that is covered with dirt and filth. In order for it to heal, the mystic must first cleanse it, revealing the underlying flesh. Only then can they apply the ointment to heal the wound and allow the ego to be purified.

Principle (1)
Belief in the Personal Vision of God

In spiritual practice, one must believe in the existence of metaphysical and transcendental forces and regard these forces as personal beings. A personal being whom one can visit. The goal of spiritual practice is the proximity to God, which is achieved through poverty and destitution. Reaching and encountering the radiant essence of God, who is a person and not a general concept, as is commonly stated in philosophy. The logic of the concept of God is general but limited to the individual. The general concept cannot encompass visitation, and the vision of Him is impossible. Mysticism views God as a person, one who can be seen, with whom one can engage in an intimate relationship. God must be encountered outside the mind. A God who is effective and exists outside of the mind, encompassing all of existence. A God that is intellectual and conceptual can only be weakly depicted by philosophy, which reduces His essence and diminishes His true magnitude. Such a God resembles the hell described by some philosophers, who see it as nothing more than the deprivation of the soul. The feelings of loss and absence cause wounds in the hearts of those impoverished in spirit, a hell that burns every talent, while the hell of the Qur’an is described as: (The Fire whose fuel is people and stones) [11]. The philosophical hell is in the space of the material world.

Our surrounding reality is experiential and does not require the lasting materiality of the afterlife. The philosophical God also has this aspect and cannot be approached outside the mind, as Moses conversed with Him and requested to see His face. Pay attention to the lengthy dialogue between Prophet Moses and God, in which they speak affectionately: “And what is that in your right hand, O Moses? He said, ‘It is my staff; I lean upon it, and with it, I sweep the leaves for my sheep, and I have other uses for it.’ He said, ‘Throw it down, O Moses!’ So he threw it, and behold, it became a serpent, moving swiftly. God said, ‘Pick it up, and do not fear; We will return it to its former condition. And insert your hand into your garment, it will come out white without any harm – another sign. That We may show you some of Our greatest signs. Go to Pharaoh; indeed, he has transgressed. Moses said, ‘My Lord, expand for me my chest and ease for me my task and untie the knot from my tongue that they may understand my speech. And appoint for me a minister from my family, Aaron, my brother. Increase through him my strength and let him share my task, that we may glorify You much and remember You much. Indeed, You are of us ever Seeing.’ God said, ‘You have been granted your request, O Moses. And We had already conferred favor upon you another time when We inspired to your mother what We inspired, saying, ‘Put him in the box and throw it into the river, and the river will throw it on the bank, and there will take him one who is an enemy to Me and an enemy to him.’ And I endowed you with love from Me that you would be brought up under My eye. When your sister went and said, ‘Shall I direct you to someone who will nurse him?’ So We restored you to your mother that she might be content and not grieve. And you killed someone, but We saved you from the distress and tried you with a severe trial. And you remained for years among the people of Midian. Then you came at the decreed time, O Moses. And I prepared you for Myself. Go, you and your brother, with My signs and do not slacken in My remembrance. Go, both of you, to Pharaoh, indeed he has transgressed. And speak to him with gentle speech, perhaps he may be reminded or fear Me.’ They said, ‘Our Lord, indeed we fear that he will hasten to punish us or that he will transgress.’ God said, ‘Do not fear; indeed, I am with you both. I hear and I see’” [12].

One must believe in a God outside, with whom one can converse and speak affectionately. One must be able to address Him repeatedly: (Iyya-ka). Whoever can solve their problem of monotheism and bring it to belief, will face no difficulty in other areas of knowledge. Whoever performs their prayer, not for the sake of indoctrination or soothing the soul, but in pursuit of solitude to converse with God, not out of desire for paradise or fear of hell, but rather in a state of devotion that surpasses the love of worship itself, as stated by Imam Ali: “Indeed, I found you worthy of worship.”

From childhood, I always held the belief that the ascetics such as the divine prophets and the Fourteen Infallibles, as well as geniuses like Ibn Sina and scholars like Mulla Sadra, were not simple individuals who held on to God without reason. Imam Ali is not an ordinary person, and when he says that he does not worship the unseen God, his words are a testimony; meaning, God exists, and He is visible, and one can visit Him. These words of His have only caused Him distress, but He always spoke the truth and remained firm in this belief until the end, as all the Twelve Infallibles were either poisoned or martyred. With such a difficult situation, if Imam Ali says that God exists, then indeed, He exists, and He has certainly visited God, for it is impossible for him to have been so devoted to something unseen.

One must practice and not merely study. Last night, at three o’clock in the morning, one of the disabled veterans visited our house. He could not even get out of his car, so we entered it. I said to him, “Half of you has been taken, and the other half has been left; do you know why this has happened to you? It is because you do not truly know God, and you regard Him as you would your cousin. You still do not know with whom you are dealing!”

Principle (2)
The Necessity of Reverence and Service to an Experienced Teacher

Another principle to consider in the path of spiritual practice is that in mysticism, the evidence and proof are the teacher, the master who has traversed the path and knows it. Someone who lacks a spiritual guide is walking a path without evidence, and their journey lacks legitimacy. Of course, the paths to the truth are many, and each differs greatly in quantity, quality, length, and brevity, but fortunate is the one who places their hand in the hand of a teacher who has seen and walked a short but quality path; although many of those who appear to be guides are not actually so, and their guidance leads only to further distance.

We live in the time of the Great Occultation, and the hands of people are cut off from the direct connection to the Proof of God, Imam Mahdi (may Allah hasten his reappearance). However, this does not mean that the path to the unseen is closed in this era, nor that there are no men from the unseen to help those capable of being helped. God has always had chosen individuals throughout history who can aid people. In our time, the late great Judge and, after him, Imam Khomeini were beloved saints of God who had the authority of leadership and guidance. The growth of knowledge has not been blocked in the time of the Occultation, but the nature of the movement has changed. After the final Prophet, all those seeking inner growth are guests at the table of the Prophet Muhammad and receive spiritual sustenance from the Holy Qur’an. People in the era of the Occultation have not only not regressed in reason compared to those before the advent of Islam, but they have actually made greater strides. Therefore, it cannot be said that the door to the unseen is closed in this era, for how could the ancestors of humanity have had 124,000 prophets, and now the connection to the unseen is shut! Or it must be said that the ancients were simpler people, and now that people are more intelligent, no one can claim prophecy. Or perhaps, God has placed the capacity for chosen-ness in human nature, and the prophethood of the past remains alive until the Day of Judgment, though it is now spiritual prophethood, not legislative, and those who acquire it do not make any claims.

God has selected special individuals for the era of the Occultation, known as His beloved ones, and the seeker must strive to identify them. However, finding them is a divine grace and provision, and those who do not receive this grace cannot receive any information from these beloved ones. True teachers of the spiritual path are the beloved ones, and their devotees often lack the ability to nurture others on the path. Often, they clumsily provide prescriptions that mislead the seeker and lead them astray.

If a seeker wishes to have a healthy, progressive, and fluid spiritual path, they must find these beloved mystics, although their numbers are few, and they are meant for the inner realm and do not openly declare themselves, making it harder to recognize them. What has been said is in the apparent realm, but in the deeper reality, the seeker walks with God’s guidance, and the seeker with great inner capacity must reach the beloveds through an inner attraction, otherwise, weak teachers will suffice for them.

An experienced mentor first tests the individual to determine if they have the capacity for spiritual practice and mysticism, so as not to invest in a path without purpose and avoid wasting their time. The experienced mentor knows well whom to invest in and nurture. If the mentor finds that the seeker has the secret, inner strength, ambition, and potential, they will guide them through their teachings, like a land rich with gold that must be worked to refine its gold in the furnace.

The role of the mentor in spiritual practice is akin to a helper, and they have no role in the creation of the hidden treasure within the seeker’s existence. They only diagnose whether the individual has the capacity for the path and assist those with potential to access their inner treasures. These individuals are those who have had knowledge instilled in their essence from childhood, who have eaten pure and lawful sustenance, and whose bodily systems and enzymes are capable of manifesting the divine presence within them. This potential shows itself from childhood and has an unconscious quality. Spiritual practice is not a matter of cunning, where someone spends all night in prayer to “gain something!” Such a person is merely clever, thinking that, God forbid, God is unaware and simple and unaware of their desire. This person sits expecting to find something, while the greedy and acquisitive ones lack any foundation for spiritual practice. The one with spiritual potential finds themselves on the path unconsciously and does not sit out of desire for something or with any ulterior motive. They have not created a plan to acquire something, and it is by God’s grace that they are nourished.

If the seeker is granted the opportunity to be in the presence of a true mystic and a realized master, the spiritual practice will take root in them only if they first develop reverence and affection for their master. Only through love will they gain willpower. Reverence holds such significance that even the beloved mystics have it, though their reverence is rightful; it means that before they see anyone or anything, they have reverence for the Divine.

The mystics have a deep affection for the creation and show great love for their teacher and guide. This devotion of the lovers is described in the Surah Al-Fatiha, where it says: “Guide us to the straight path, the path of those upon whom You have bestowed favor, not of those who have evoked Your anger or of those who are astray.” (Quran 1:6-7). This prayer is for those who seek to walk the path of the beloved and the path of Master Ali (peace be upon him), but in reality, they seek guidance from the Almighty, because the beloved are in the realm of divine reality, and the lovers are in the realm of creation. A lover who does not have access to the Divine should bow humbly in the presence of the beloved, just as the saying goes: “If you cannot reach the noblewoman, at least serve the maid of the kitchen.” Even though elders and guides of mysticism may be beloved, in the presence of the Lord, they are akin to the servant in the kitchen.

The disciple who is fortunate enough to find such a beloved teacher, with genuine affection, serves them. It is through years of service to the teacher that the divine grace accompanies the seeker.

Unfortunately, nowadays, the respect for teachers has diminished so much that serving them is often seen as shameful. In the past, however, seekers strived to find a teacher and considered serving them an honour. I remember one of my teachers, who was an Aristotelian, once had a disagreement with one of his students. The teacher entered a gathering and respected everyone, except that student. Afterward, the student came to me, complaining that the teacher did not show him respect, making others think he was insignificant. I was astounded by the student’s words and realised he had not received any benefit from the teacher. He was focused on preserving his own status, and after thirty years, he passed away in a state of misguidance. A teacher may strike their disciple, but still, the disciple must thank them, and their affection should not diminish. Later, the teacher said to him, “Our relationship is not based on outward respect, so do not expect such things from me. I do not view you as I do those who come and go in an instant, so why should I devote myself to you?”

A seeker who stays with a spiritual teacher must focus on love and service, not on maintaining a sense of superiority. Someone who considers themselves a master cannot serve another; instead, they are the ones seeking a servant.

It is said that the late Haji Sabzevari, when returning from Najaf, felt that he still had issues within himself. He went to Kerman, where he presented himself as a servant to the students in a school, humbly performing lowly tasks and even buying goods for them. He would endure their subtle sarcasm with generosity.

Serving a teacher is not for the benefit of the teacher but for the benefit of the seeker. Through this service, the seeker can be trained and rid themselves of ego and arrogance. The seeker, through their service, does not hold a favour over the teacher; rather, they should be grateful, as any hardship or difficulty they endure in service helps purify their soul.

Mysticism requires balance, and its discipline is both varied and comprehensive. Just as prayer without charity has no effect, prayer and charity without service to the teacher are incomplete. Many of the moral problems a seeker faces, such as pride and arrogance, are eliminated through serving the teacher. Ultimately, the foundation of mysticism lies in awareness, discipline, softness, affection, and possessing willpower. One who possesses willpower becomes capable of overcoming the daunting challenges of the spiritual path. They remain steadfast until their body is taken from them. The seeker must serve the teacher and not seek the position of a master, for arrogance and pride act as poisons that harm the soul.

The seeker who wishes to attain hidden knowledge but has even the slightest trace of pride within them will waste their time on spiritual practices and gain nothing from them. Those who build respect for themselves are ignorant, as all respect belongs to God. The seeker, in serving their teacher, becomes so accustomed to serving that they do not withhold even from the smallest of creatures, let alone from a divine scholar who is a chosen servant of God.

One of the beloved ones of our time is Imam Khomeini (may God be pleased with him). He had no teacher in mysticism from whom he received influence, and his actions were purely divine, originating from God. Those who are known as his mysticism teachers actually held a lower rank in mysticism than him. However, being beloved does not imply lacking a teacher in technical sciences, as his studies were in different fields. It is said that he never killed flies in his room but would gently remove them. This was an act of service to a creature that causes inconvenience. If he could serve a mosquito in this manner, how could he fail to serve humanity, especially the culture of Shi’ism?

To purify oneself, the seeker must place themselves in the service of the infallible ones (peace be upon them), the Holy Quran, and their teacher, who is a divine friend. Naturally, one who is arrogant cannot serve.

As previously mentioned, the seeker must possess an inherent ability for mysticism. Such a seeker feels a sense of superiority and believes in their own truth, and this is why they can place themselves in the service of a teacher. However, someone who has no real worth and only pretends to be a master cannot serve anyone.

The dress of a scholar is one of humility. Anyone who holds onto their own pride is not suited for the spiritual path, nor do they have the capacity for spiritual matters.

One cannot reach the power of will without devotion, whether it be the devotion of the lovers or the devotion to the Beloved. The lovers need affection for creation, while the Beloved requires devotion to the Divine to purify their being. From a young age, we had a special sensitivity to God, and our inner faculties only accepted God, as can be seen in our poetry. Only a small percentage of our poems relate to the Infallible Imams, which are all gathered in Divan Wilayat. Although I wanted to write much more about them, I could not find the strength to do so beyond what is present in this collection.

Doubt in the teacher is one of the things that diminishes or destroys devotion. Of course, before finding a teacher, a seeker should have doubts about everyone. However, once the seeker identifies a teacher who is a divine friend, and the teacher accepts them, they must abandon “ifs,” “buts,” and “maybes.” Only certainty born from knowledge can guide and support the seeker on their journey with the teacher. A person who is doubtful, pessimistic, or ill-tempered cannot have genuine affection. A seeker who lacks devotion cannot possess willpower. This becomes significant when considering that the divine friends have a strong veil of secrecy and always aim to keep those around them in a state of doubt, acting in a way that neither disappoints nor makes them overly dependent. Sometimes, a seeker may develop such strong devotion that they even sacrifice their life for their master. We will discuss elsewhere how doubt is the deadly poison for a seeker. However, the beloved ones are not interested in fostering doubt, but today’s environment often makes doubt seem like a means of salvation, just as the Infallible Imams would sometimes speak ill of or reject certain companions, like Hisham or Zarara, to protect them from the harms of the oppressive Caliphate.

This issue is particularly important in the religious scholarly community of Qom and requires great caution. One day, I attended the Friday prayer led by the late Ayatollah Araki, who was then the preacher. Some people did not accept the Friday prayer, so they would listen to the sermon but pray the noon prayer separately. That day, I stood for prayer, but many people suddenly left the rows, causing the connection between the rows to break entirely. This happened in the most prestigious mosque in Qom!

One of the obstacles to devotion and service is excessive reliance on books and an obsession with abstract concepts, which prevents service to humans or even helping an animal and fosters a sense of self-importance. A seeker is after servitude, which is soft and brings softness, while mastery breeds dryness and conflict, making one rigid and unable to receive spiritual truths. However, a seeker, guided by their teacher, can approach knowledge in the right way, and knowledge will become light for them, not darkness.

The Role of Reason and Love in Spiritual Progress

If the intellect is seasoned in the furnace of love, the individual becomes like the Shiite of the furnace who, at the command of Imam Sadiq (a.s.), enters the blazing furnace. A seeker who lacks such trust in his true spiritual guide—who is only an expert in the divine sciences and trained in the religious seminaries—will become distrustful of his teacher in difficult and arduous stages of spiritual progress, abandoning them. Such an individual has an undeveloped intellect and retains the knowledge of one who has consumed only unrefined milk.

Reaching the point where a seeker no longer doubts his spiritual guide, and does not make conditions with him, is exceedingly difficult, especially when the seeker’s personal benefit is at stake. A seeker who trusts their guide gains such determination that they are capable of splitting a mountain with it—just as a camel can emerge from the heart of a mountain. An examination of the history of the infallible Imams reveals that doubt and conditions were sometimes present among their students, let alone with spiritual guides in the Age of Occultation, who do not possess infallibility. The proximity or distance of these students to the infallible ones was due to their doubts and satanic conditions, as the Imams themselves did not withhold blessings; their divine grace was not impaired in any way.

The Harmonisation of Spiritual Progress with Shari’ah

Spiritual progress holds validity and is genuine only if it does not contradict the most fundamental aspects of the unadulterated Shari’ah. The separation between Shari’ah and Tarīqah (the spiritual path) marks the first and final step towards misguidance. Of course, those who are solely concerned with issuing legal rulings or outward appearances do not attain perfection, nor do those who focus only on striving to become possessors of spiritual energy and the elixir of life. Perfection lies in the person who is both a jurist (mujtahid) and a mystic, as others have only followed partial aspects of the path and have not attained the unity and collective state exemplified by the infallible saints. This imbalance has caused harm to both paths: innovations within the Shari’ah and misguidance within the spiritual path.

The problem worsens when one observes that many who entered both fields—jurisprudence and mysticism—lacked the necessary qualifications. They had not been sufficiently trained and, as a result, some of them merely exploited the realms of mysticism and jurisprudence, presenting themselves as experts, though they truly knew little about either. This issue is widespread, and we shall leave it to the reader to discern the root cause, while we discuss the deeper aspects of the matter.

Mystics aim to be successors of the divine prophets in their connection with the unseen and the inner dimensions, while scholars and jurists seek to represent the infallible Imams in the domain of Shari’ah and outward rulings. However, in the course of time, a division has occurred between these two groups. The story of the split is like that of a father with two sons, each living in a large house, with each room dedicated to one son. As long as the father is alive, the family lives in harmony, but upon his death, the sons create walls and separate themselves. In the Age of Occultation, the mystics, jurists, and political leaders became divided. Some mystics even claimed sovereignty, adding the title of ‘Sultan’ or ‘King’ to their names. Similarly, scholars began to adopt titles like Ayatollah or Ayatollah al-‘Uzma, replacing the realm of sovereignty with that of religious authority.

Imam Sadiq (a.s.) issued fatwas, interacted with nature, and performed the duties of Imamate. However, scholars became solely focused on issuing fatwas, engaged with the outward form of jurisprudence, and were removed from the higher spiritual and miraculous practices. Sufis sought the cultivation of spiritual energy and miracles but were detached from the knowledge of Shari’ah. Kings, on the other hand, assumed sovereignty and governance. If religious seminaries today are to truly inherit the legacy of the divine prophets, they must incorporate all three domains: jurisprudence, mysticism, and governance. Only those scholars who have the divine wisdom to combine all three elements—jurisprudence, mystical insight, and governance—can inherit the true legacy of the infallible Imams. Such scholars must be capable of issuing legal rulings, have mastery over the unseen realms, and possess the ability to govern justly.

It is crucial to note that while scholars of the outward form (Shari’ah) must also have the qualities of a perfect mystic, what a mystic possesses is not necessarily found in those of the outward religious sciences. The true perfection requires the synthesis of all three aspects within one individual, a state of unity that is typically only found in the beloved saints. Mystics, despite their deep knowledge, rarely attain the level of a complete scholar of divine law. A seeker who desires perfection must reach a point where they can harmonise these three dimensions without favouring one over the others. Knowledge and understanding that does not lead to political wisdom is incomplete, and the pursuit of knowledge that does not lead to mystical insight is a form of misguidance. It is necessary to combine all three, and this can only be accomplished with a skilled and experienced mentor.

It is essential to recognise that spiritual progress requires a unique and innate natural aptitude, and one should not expect every scholar to become a mystic. However, if someone desires to be a mystic, they must understand the principles and rules of this path to avoid mistaking deviation or regression for spiritual progress. Just as a scholar who lacks the disposition for spiritual growth should not meddle in the affairs of mysticism, legal rulings should be entrusted to a jurist with the spiritual capacity to understand and navigate the path.

Spiritual Progress as an Irreversible Path

The path of spiritual progress is one that has no return. The system of spiritual development is akin to the operations of intelligence agencies, where once someone is recruited, they are part of the organisation and, if they try to leave, they face dire consequences.

I once encountered a great jurist of our time who mentioned that when he sought spiritual guidance, he found no news. I remarked that he was from a lower position, too fearful to proceed, unlike those who persist; once they enter, they never turn back. If someone enters this realm, they are no longer in control of their own destiny, and they will not be allowed to return.

Spiritual progress is a journey that does not rely on external evidence or debates, and once embarked upon, the individual is no longer in control. A seeker who begins this path goes forward without the possibility of return. Doubt and condition are two destructive factors that may deter a seeker from progressing. In this path, all bridges behind are removed, and the seeker must carry any burdens placed upon them, continuously moving forward. These burdens may be such that even figures like Prophet Moses (a.s.) were unable to bear them alone and had to rely on their spiritual guide, Khidr (a.s.), who directly received guidance from God.

Conscious Spiritual Progress

Mysticism exists in two forms: practical and theoretical. Philosophically, practical mysticism is dependent on theoretical mysticism—meaning the value of any action is determined by the understanding behind it. Thus, both in philosophy and mysticism, the practical dimension derives its value from the theoretical, and only when this theoretical foundation is sound does the practical aspect become fruitful.

For example, the superior merit of Imam Ali (a.s.) in the Battle of Khandaq is not because of the outward act, such as two units of prayer or a sword strike, but because of the profound understanding and divine knowledge that underpinned these actions. The merit of all actions performed by Imam Ali (a.s.), as exemplified in these examples, lies not in the outward acts but in the knowledge and truth that guided them. This is evident in the statement of Imam Ali (a.s.): “I did not worship You out of fear of Your Hell or desire for Your Paradise, but because I found You deserving of worship.”

Thus, the value of practical mysticism and practical philosophy is contingent upon their theoretical foundation and knowledge.

One of the factors that has prevented practical mysticism from flourishing and achieving tangible results is that those who turn to it have not made any efforts in theoretical mysticism, and thus lack strong beliefs and correct understanding. Practical mysticism is more about feelings and experiences than theoretical mysticism. Acts like performing prayers, observing ascetic practices (chilla), and engaging in prolonged bowing and prostration are more apparent and noticeable than the knowledge that is neither easily attained nor tangible.

The institutions of knowledge are also weak in this domain, and one of the consequences of this weakness is that scholars, great figures, jurists, philosophers, and mystics are unable to explain who and what God is. They cannot provide a meaningful answer to this, and what they say is more about blind faith and imitation than reasoning and offering a true image of God to the audience. It is as if God is a forbidden area. We have even failed to provide a clear image of God to children, leaving them in ambiguity. Action is a branch of knowledge, and without knowledge, action becomes ineffective and unachievable. The practices that do occur are supported by some form of knowledge, and if this knowledge is incorrect, as logicians would say, if it lacks truth-value, the action will not align with reality.

You wish to perform actions for God, but what is God and who is God? For this question, they do not have an appropriate answer. Theoretical mysticism must be prioritized first. It must be determined whether God is universal or particular, personal or corporate, real or metaphorical. Many religious scholars view God as universal and a legal entity. Practical wisdom does not yield results when these questions remain unclear. The value of practical wisdom is tied to the value of theoretical wisdom. Without theoretical wisdom, one encounters the situation of the monk and ascetic mentioned in Usul al-Kafi [17], who lamented, “I wish God would send his donkey to eat this grass!” Without theoretical wisdom, even the act of performing prayers on time will yield nothing, and the claims of action-oriented individuals have already been critiqued in their own right.

However, theoretical wisdom only leads to action if it aligns with truth and is a sincere and justified belief. Just as it is impossible to plant a sapling that will not sprout branches and leaves, it is impossible to attain theoretical wisdom but lose practical wisdom. Knowledge and theoretical wisdom are the roots of any action, and practical wisdom without them has no substance. If someone thinks deeply about theoretical matters for hours but cannot properly perform the two rak’ahs of the dawn prayer, they are a philosopher, not a wise person. A philosopher is someone who attempts to put their thoughts into practice, someone whose knowledge drives them to action.

Based on this principle, what the Sufis and wandering ascetics do in their monasteries, focusing solely on action and, for example, some of them repeat a particular dhikr (remembrance of God) for decades without experiencing any hardship to gain knowledge, is mistaken. I once saw a mystic in my childhood who was eighty years old and had spent over thirty years simply gazing at the sun. His eyes had become white and blind due to this practice. He had wished that the sun would annihilate him out of love, intimacy, longing, and self-effacement, and he endured this with patience. Sometimes, one reads about a mystic who, for forty years, has never stretched his legs or broken the rules of decorum, but I have never subjected myself to such asceticism for the sake of mysticism. However, for seven years while studying music, I refrained from drinking cold water and only consumed warm water, because cold water damages the vocal cords and makes it difficult to properly test the ranges of pitch and scales. Despite my love for very cold water, which I never drink without ice, I sacrificed it for the sake of my study. Also, for over fifty years, after the evening prayer, I have prayed two rak’ahs for the Imam of the Time (may Allah hasten his appearance) and have never missed this prayer, so I can end my night remembering that beloved one, far from view.

The love for that beloved one also brings freedom and independence, preventing one from easily being drawn to another person or considering them significant, from bowing to anyone or fearing anyone. Someone who has the love for the Imam of the Time in their heart becomes like a married woman who cannot be touched by anyone or give her heart to another. In this world, one must live in such a way that no one else is considered a rival to that beloved one (may Allah hasten his appearance), and they should regard it as treason and disbelief if anyone attempts to do so. Someone with such a perspective will never find anyone in the world or time who can oppress them. They will not rely on paper edicts or revolving chairs, but rather on an eternal principle. I have often said that I am connected to an eternal being, and my attention is drawn to it endlessly.

In any case, the seeker must undertake two paths: one is the journey “from the Truth” and “from God,” and the other is the journey “to the Truth” and “to God.” The seeker must organize these two journeys based on the principles they have. These two paths concern where knowledge is obtained from and how it is acquired, how its effects and results manifest, and how far they go. The first path involves gaining knowledge and wisdom from the Creator through the intermediary of the messenger or divine inspiration, as well as acquiring the knowledge of religious laws, principles, and teachings through reasoning or other sources of interpretation, or through imitation of a qualified jurist. How one takes knowledge from God, depending on the seeker’s personality and method of study, as well as the character of the teacher, varies, and we discuss each of these in relation to our own situation.

The second path is the one of practical wisdom, which deals with how the seeker follows the path and how far they reach. Has the seeker reached the state of proper behavior in their outward actions or their inner heart, or something higher? Have they embarked on the path with sincerity, or are they still in progress? Have they transcended actions and reached the names of God? If they have reached the names, are they in the names of beauty or majesty, or have they gone beyond the names and reached the essence of God? The one who transcends the names understands that even the essence itself can become a Lord.

The seeker must always be in a state of progress, sensing that they are advancing, experiencing growth, changes in their feelings, and experiencing love and hate, good and evil, and profit and loss. The journey is like moving through a street or alley; the journey must be real, and the seeker must feel that they are progressing. Otherwise, it is a regression, and after years of wandering, the seeker may end up with nothing more than increased claims and greater pride.

The seeker must always maintain the principles of these two paths and be mindful of their acquisition. One who does not have strong documentation in their acquisition is like a child who does not recognize their father and has no roots. Such a person has no true connection to God, and they are merely entertained by superficial knowledge. A teacher must be someone who has reached the destination so that they can guide their students properly. One who has not acquired their knowledge from the rightful source cannot be expected to possess any true qualities. The seeker needs a legitimate chain of transmission, and it is not as simple as setting off on a path without being properly guided.

Furthermore, the seeker must regularly test their progress, week by week or month by month, and assess their closeness to God. They should determine whether they have heard a response from the Divine or not. These two matters are crucial for the seeker. Knowledge must be obtained from the teacher so that the journey does not lack legitimacy, and the seeker must understand how far they have gone. Has God sweetened the journey for them? Is there a pulse within them that feels alive? They must understand their struggles with their acquisition and the path they are on.

The Essence of the Path:
Practical Power, Not Intellectual Knowledge

The path is not about abstract or intellectual concepts but is a matter of power and action. While knowledge is necessary for the journey, knowing the map does not equate to walking the path. Therefore, the seeker should not assume that reading this book makes them a mystic, nor should they fall into the fallacy of confusing knowledge with power. It is true that any knowledge that possesses the power of expression is indeed power, but conceptual knowledge—what is rightly called “information”—is merely a concept, just an accumulation of reports. One’s information can exceed their capacity to act on it. A person who believes they can fly in the sky in their mind has information but lacks the operational power to execute it, in contrast to someone who can physically hold themselves between the earth and the sky. The journey is about power and having the ability to carry out actions, not merely collecting information and theorizing. The path is a field for practice, a battlefield for action. The one who translates their theoretical knowledge into practice is the true seeker. They are like someone who wants to become a literary scholar. Knowledge of the rules of grammar, syntax, language, rhetoric, and style does not make one a scholar; a scholar is someone who applies these rules automatically in their expressions.

I remember when I first came to Qom, still unordained, with very long hair, teaching lessons in Feyziyeh. Of course, I did not receive a salary, and I taught for leisure; otherwise, a student should adhere to the duties of scholarship. At that time, a student came to me and said his literary skills were weak. What should he do to improve? I asked what he had read, and he replied, “Suyuti and Mughni, and also the first volume of Al-Qawanin.” I told him to read the second volume of Suyuti, as the essence of literature is in that. He searched many bookstores for it, but they all told him that the second volume of Suyuti didn’t exist. After a while, he concluded that the second volume of Suyuti did not exist, but he trusted my words more than all the others. He said, “They say there is no second volume of Suyuti!” I said, “They are all correct. You shouldn’t read so much. That’s why I told you to search for a book that doesn’t exist! You’ve only read books without acting on what you’ve read.”

The journey is harder than anything else and should not be underestimated. Only those who take their work seriously will succeed in this journey, just as God has put His utmost power into creating the system of the universe and revealing the Quran in a way that could not be better. The seeker must strive, practice, and invest considerable energy to realize their journey. God says to Prophet John (Yahya), “O John, take the book with strength” (Quran, 19:12). One who does not take the journey seriously cannot be a true seeker.

The path is all about action. The seeker, in completing their theoretical wisdom, must also turn to action and strive, constantly testing the impact of their actions on their soul and inner traits. When choosing actions, they must follow a program from their teacher; otherwise, a hodgepodge of actions will make them sour and neutralize the effect of any action, even turning it into poison. The seeker is not someone who writes papers and engages in paperwork, but one who is constantly in pursuit of action, rarely engaging in the words of this or that person. Just as actions without thought have no impact, thought should not obstruct action. The deviation from this principle results in some individuals becoming so immersed in the inner dimension that they lose their outward behavior, while others fall into the extreme of outward formalism, forgetting the inner dimension. The conflict between ascetics and outwardly focused scholars begins here, and both are lost and far from the truth.

I remember when I was a child, I saw a mystic whose path to reach him required overcoming thirty obstacles. I answered all his questions in poetry, while he could not respond to his followers in the same way. When he saw that I was superior to him in mysticism, he referred me to another. I have traveled all over Iran, stepping on every inch of its soil, and I have encountered mystics or those who claim to be such. I have always lived a solitary life, but my knowledge in these areas is not less than any information center, and whenever anyone from this country goes abroad, I immediately learn about it, though I have always kept this information hidden.

The author of this book does not write it for readers to merely study and then cast it aside. Rather, this book is intended to be put into practice, urging the reader to engage with its exercises and experiment with the impact of its prescriptions on their soul and psyche. Indeed, I do not believe in a society where action is absent, nor do I have faith in someone who cannot retain a teaching within themselves and carelessly expels it, for one who lacks discretion in mystical matters. Many words enter the heart of the seeker, which they should not hastily divulge. This is one of the most crucial practical exercises for the seeker. They must consider their inner discoveries as a trust and convey them only to those who are worthy, rather than exposing this trust, which is as sacred as a person’s honour, to every grasping onlooker.

In summary, practical mysticism is not merely a scholarly and educational pursuit but a science that must be actualised in action. Its true essence lies in the deeds it influences, both outwardly and inwardly. Otherwise, it becomes an example of the saying:

“No matter how much you read, if there is no action within you, you remain ignorant.”

Practical mysticism is a blueprint for reaching and achieving, a path that is incompatible with mere accumulation of knowledge.

A seeker is someone who is willing to endure any hardship. They humbly sit before their Lord, ready to face whatever comes their way, declaring, “Do as You will.” Of course, God pays no heed to this request. If the seeker is not earnest in their efforts, they will be stirred by a wake-up call. A seeker aiming for the infinite must pay due attention to the steps they take, for in the desolate land of love, sacrifice is the norm, and how can one take a step without considering the sacrifice of Imam Hussein (AS) and the trials He endured? Death, martyrdom, the loss of worldly possessions, reputation, knowledge, and a life of minimal means are inherent aspects of this path. This journey may be so demanding that it could twist the frame of the body itself.

The mystical journey is not solely an academic endeavour or one of reading; it requires quiet and persistent effort, with each task done without boastful display, in a spirit of humility.

My father once said: A newlywed woman was tall but lacked substance. On her first day, she promised her husband to prepare the best lunch to ease his tiredness from the day’s work. However, her only claim was to be knowledgeable in cooking, which she was not. She asked a neighbour, an experienced and skilled cook, for advice. The elderly woman gave her a recipe, but the young bride, full of pride, insisted that she already knew how to prepare it. One day, when her husband had guests, he asked her to prepare an impressive meal. Again, she turned to the neighbour. This time, the neighbour, wishing to teach her a lesson, instructed her to place a brick on the rice and cover it. The young bride, unperturbed, said, “I already knew this!” and went ahead with the task. When her husband opened the pot at lunchtime, he found a pot of rice mixed with flower petals. He angrily called her, “What is this flower? Are you trying to ruin my reputation?” and gave her a severe beating. It was then that the young bride realised that pride serves no purpose and that she must humble herself before the neighbour and learn the art of cooking.

The issue with practical mysticism is that everyone claims to be proficient in it but never truly learns. Moreover, there is no proper educational system for it. As a result, the market for false and emerging mysticism has flourished. Academic institutions also oppose this path, casting those who are authorities in this field into obscurity. Current mystical circles primarily focus on theological discourse and writings, leading to much confusion. If the tool of action were entrusted to the so-called guides and self-proclaimed masters, 99% of them would not only misuse the tool but would also be so unskilled and misguided in their mystical approach that they would harm themselves in the process. Mysticism and spiritual discipline are intricate knowledge systems that must be learned based on the teachings of the Ahl al-Bayt (AS) and the experience of Shia scholars. This, however, is distinct from the actual mystical path, and one must operationalise it so that the individual begins their journey of practice as a seeker.

Another distinction between spiritual practice and theoretical knowledge or other crafts is that, in spiritual practice, the passing grade is 20. Any grade lower than that results in failure. In other fields, only knowledge and educational attainment matter, but in mystical practice, those who fail to reach their goal receive no grade. Anyone who falls short is not considered to have made progress at all but is deemed to have failed entirely.

A seeker is not someone who merely reads or writes; true ownership is beyond knowledge or the ability to recite poems. Even though knowledge can be considered a form of ownership, it is more than the power of expression or the possession of informational content.

Spiritual practice is actionable mysticism. The practitioner of this path must tighten their belt and get to work. They must perform the right tasks, not just any task. Just as the dervish Malik, whose story will be told later, did not sit idly by and perform practices with no practical outcome, the mystic should not perform actions that harm their body or lead to physical destruction. Any practice that leads to harm is not permissible in spiritual mysticism, as it is nothing but deception, and those who encourage such practices are agents of Satan. However, there are practitioners who, due to their simplicity and gullibility, follow their master’s instructions blindly. A mystic should never resort to harming themselves in the name of mysticism. They should wisely use their resources and maintain a balance between spiritual and material aspects of life.

Many of the ascetic practices promoted in some mystical circles lead only to obsession, weakness, madness, and even cruelty towards others, neglecting one’s spouse and children. A person who cannot engage with the physical world properly cannot benefit from the mystical realms either, just as they are incapable of benefiting from this world. In essence, a seeker must understand that their goal is to draw nearer to God and serve Him. Such a person is not free to pursue any kind of asceticism at will.

The path of spiritual practice demands a clean slate of the heart, much like a school requires paper and a pen for writing. In spiritual practice, one must face darkness, while the student requires light to see through the darkness of what is written. The journey is one of solitary nights, away from the noise and busyness of the marketplace, which thrives only because of its daily clamor. The seeker, through practice, becomes a true seeker, testing and experiencing their learnings. Therefore, the exercises in this book must be practiced, and merely reading them is insufficient. Discussions also serve as a practical exercise for the reader, helping to clarify who has understood the lesson and who has only heard it.

Since childhood, I have either been awake during the night or slept only for brief intervals of 30 minutes to two hours. These days, when my teaching work has lessened and I write more, I find myself dreaming about the lessons I am about to deliver. As a result, much of the daily discourse becomes repetitive for me and causes fatigue during the three hours of instruction.

A practitioner of mysticism connects with divine powers and, through their devotion to the master, gains a power that enables them to influence material nature, just as the miracles and divine deeds of prophets and saints shape reality. Such individuals possess inner strength, breath, and vision, granting them knowledge of the unseen and an ability to perceive deeply. However, the divine prophets possess the ultimate power, and the seekers attain only a scaled-down version of these abilities. These abilities, though remarkable to the masses, do not impress those with deep knowledge, who can discern individuals based on their understanding of divine guidance and unity.

A seeker is someone who gains power and becomes capable and effective. When they breathe, it is with strength, and when they speak, it is based on a profound map of understanding that they possess. They do not merely act mechanically. If they endure harm from others, it is not due to weakness, but because they have the power to do so, and they accept hardships gracefully. Mystical practice is not about reading mystical books; it is about embodying the essence of poetry, as Hafiz does, not merely reciting it. The seeker reaches a point where their will becomes empowered. They are not like the student who only recites poetry or seeks to impress teachers, but one who has gained mastery through actual practice.

Some individuals, though they cannot even control their own bodily responses, engage in mystical activities, creating a show of mysticism that hinders the genuine seeker of true spiritual knowledge.

Mysticism is like a gym, and the seeker must have the resolve of wrestlers and athletes of the past. They cannot simply sit on the sidelines and consider themselves a seeker, but must enter the arena, grapple with their inner self, and take action. Spiritual practice is not just a theoretical pursuit; it is the practice of love and pain. True love and knowledge are not gained by gazing at paper or receiving a simple ritual; they come through purposeful effort and discipline.

Some may criticise those who focus on theoretical knowledge, but these individuals also engage in a mockery of true mystical practice. Before the revolution, I met the spiritual leader of all the dervishes in Iran. I told the son of one of his followers that their practices were nothing more than pretensions of mysticism. He disagreed and suggested that we visit them to see if we could tolerate it. If their power and strength did not overpower us, we would endure it. I replied that we should not fear their power, as we have Imam Sadiq (AS) on our side. In that place, there was a leader who claimed to be the Sultan of all dervishes in Iran and held much influence in foreign lands. He sat arrogantly in a large hall surrounded by prominent figures, as if he were Pharaoh. I approached him directly, and he seemed somewhat uncomfortable. He asked a few questions, and I provided answers. In an attempt to deflect, he said to his entourage, “Do you know the difference between us and the clerics? They speak well, but we possess the truth.” I told him, “We are merely people of the school, but you, who claim to be practical, show some power and make something move, or else you are just speaking empty words, albeit with long beards.”

It is important to note the difference between force and power. Force, when unjustly or unnecessarily used, is not true strength. A person with true power remains humble, just as athletes of the past wore loose clothing to conceal their strength, unlike today when tight clothes are worn to display their physique.

True mystical practice involves vision within perception and power in action. The foundation of both vision and power is knowledge. One who possesses theoretical wisdom can distinguish courage from recklessness or arrogance.

Principle ( )
Testing and Continuous Evaluation

The seeker must pay attention to all their states, qualities, and actions, carefully observing even the slightest changes in order to determine whether their spiritual practices and invocations are having a positive effect on them, a negative one, or no effect at all. The testing of the seeker involves their constant self-monitoring, which may occur in a nominal or descriptive manner, where they must assess the effect of their internal invocations, or in the realm of action and spiritual discipline, where they test how these disciplines affect the softness of their heart and their morals. The outward behavior should lean towards etiquette, while the inner state should incline towards virtuous character. The outer conduct serves as a reflection of the inner state and purity, while the inner state is the determining factor for the results of the outer actions.

A seeker with an internal issue, when waking from sleep, feels no fatigue, indicating that their heart was in a state of sleep. However, one whose heart remains awake will still feel fatigued after sleep, because their heart did not rest. The seeker uses both external and internal tests to examine their heart and the correctness of their actions. Those on the spiritual path must test their actions, worship, and disciplines. Those on the path of truth require less discipline but must test themselves to see how much control they have over their heart and soul, whether they are still enslaved by their desires, and to what extent their willpower and grace have influence. They must also examine whether they possess insight and vision. The seeker must test these matters to determine their own worth and level. They should become progressively softer, purer, and sweeter, to the point where the slightest unholy influence from the outside does not affect their heart. This task is more difficult in today’s world, as the abundance of activities leads to distractions, making the seeker like a spoiled child who desires every pleasure but accomplishes nothing properly. The overwhelming abundance of distractions today has diminished the results of many pursuits. In this regard, the seeker must either rid themselves of these distractions or the leaders of the community must implement a long-term plan to reduce such distractions and secure the mental well-being of the people.

The seeker must also remain vigilant over their soul and test the effectiveness of every invocation and discipline they engage in. This evaluation can only be achieved through a structured, systematic approach under the guidance of a knowledgeable master. Dreams serve as one of the tools for assessing the inner state and identifying issues of the soul. For example, a seeker who frequently dreams of being in the bathroom is likely consuming forbidden food.

The seeker must watch over their soul, remaining in a state of “waiting in ambush.” The term “waiting in ambush” is a mystical expression. The seeker must be vigilant and control their heart, a task that can take years. In the past, I saw an elderly man who was a master of waiting in ambush. He had a stool that he placed in a corner, and he would sit on it for hours, waiting. This is in contrast to today, when mysticism has become more of a spectacle, and the number of seekers has risen to the point where even the so-called teachers are often not true guides. Looking at some of them evokes fear, unlike true seekers who have been tested, have walked the path, and possess true heart. When you look at them, it brings peace and humility, and you can be sure they do not harm anyone.

For their growth, the seeker needs to test their actions to measure the level of etiquette, character, and deeds in both their outward and inward states. The outcome of such tests reflects their pure intention and the purity of their being. If such a tree bears fruit, it will yield fruits of purity, faith, and love, captivating even the wild beasts of the desert, let alone a human companion or ally.

In the test of the spiritual path, besides paying attention to inner states and outward etiquette, one can also gain insight by testing themselves against animals. Those who have a calm and tame soul will attract animals to them. Animals are very perceptive in recognizing humans and have a high level of understanding. Certain birds, such as sparrows and crows, can easily identify humans, and if someone has a pure heart, they can approach them without the birds flying away. These birds will calm down when they see such a person, unlike a wild-hearted person who, even from a distance, will make animals flee, even if they have prey. The animals will flee from such individuals.

The best method of testing is the one practiced by the late Avicenna. In this method, the seeker must pay attention to their states from dawn prayer to noon prayer, from noon to afternoon prayer, and from sunset to the night prayers. They then analyze their actions, evaluate their time spent, and assess the value of their work, both positive and negative. They should strive to reduce negative aspects during the intervals between prayers and replace them with positive actions. This method of self-assessment reveals errors and allows the seeker to gain insight into the quality of their actions. For example, from experience, I have found that when a lesson is canceled, I encounter difficulties, leading to the waste of time. This shows me that cancellations are not beneficial, and I try to ensure that I maintain my lessons even on holidays, paying charity if necessary to prevent the time from being wasted. This is part of the “waiting in ambush” practice. The seeker must learn from these tests the effects of quickly performed prayers, the consequences of hasty actions, and the results of performing prayers with tranquility. The seeker must examine the impact of helping others and how they, in turn, receive unseen aid. Similarly, they will observe the negative consequences of ill-treatment towards others, particularly family, and the blessings of showing love and affection.

The seeker will learn the difference between prayers with supplications and those without, as well as the benefits of consistent recitation of the Quran. They will also see the harmful effects of gossip, causing hurt to others, and spying, and will make efforts to correct these behaviors. It is through these tests that the seeker learns the profound impact of the night on their spiritual state. Continuous practice of these tests helps the seeker to program their subconscious mind, so that over time, these practices become second nature, with the seeker receiving inner guidance and support for their proper spiritual journey.

Principle ( )
Preserving Etiquette

By “etiquette,” we mean the training method and behavioral approach of the seeker. Before embarking on the spiritual path, the seeker must first learn the etiquette associated with it. In other words, they must understand the knowledge of spiritual practices and their principles and rules, while preserving the etiquette of the heart, so that they can move forward in a correct manner, ensuring that their actions bring them closer to their goal.

Seekers of love, in their gradual and arduous journey, encounter many dangers, challenges, and hardships that increase the risk of slipping, but if the seeker has firmly established the foundations of their path, nothing can penetrate them or bring them down. For example, when they asked Behlul about the conditions of the dining table, he did not mention facing the qibla, washing hands, or eating slowly. Instead, he spoke of the importance of the food being lawful. Similarly, the path of the seeker has specific conditions and etiquettes that form the foundation of their spiritual journey. For instance, having a daily invocation is important, but more important is observing the etiquette of the invocation and ensuring it is done correctly.

It is a form of simplistic thinking to believe that by chanting “Ya Quddus” for a few days, one will attain spiritual heights. While it is possible to experience a temporary state of joy, this state is short-lived and does not establish a solid foundation. The effect of such invocations is like visiting a cool place or attending a social gathering, where the refreshment is fleeting. On the other hand, if the seeker has the capacity for spiritual growth and follows the guidance of their teacher, they will find their strength and spiritual power with a single, focused attention, even without a specific invocation. Those on this path have their own unique energies, and every invocation or supplication, without that energy, has limited, fleeting benefits—it is merely an exercise without insight, intimacy, or purity. Certain invocations are specific to certain seekers. Those who are constantly sacrificing and giving, even taking on the burdens and hardships of others, are the ones who benefit most from numerical invocations. They repeatedly perform these invocations and break themselves down in the process. Without the proper knowledge of invocation and without guidance, such practices are merely a form of exercise, without any true understanding, connection, or purification.

Continued in the following post due to length…

Preserving the Specialized Boundaries of Sciences and Mysticism

If someone lacks a specialized and expert perspective on various sciences and skills, they may perceive them as similar, such as expecting a philosophical scholar to explain a jurisprudential narration or expecting a carpenter to perform blacksmithing tasks. While it is true that both a blacksmith and a carpenter work with metal and wood, respectively, and sometimes craft similar shapes, should this similarity lead the carpenter to think that they can also perform blacksmithing or casting, or should they, by holding the measurements of the frame and door panels and knowing how to place the hinges, already understand many of the principles of shaping metal for doors and their frames?

Just as blacksmithing and carpentry are similar professions and have many commonalities, the outward appearance of a scholar and a person engaged in spiritual matters or mysticism also bears a significant resemblance. However, the essence of the two is quite distant. The knowledge of a scholar is in no way equivalent to the gnosis of a mystic, and there must be a clear distinction between the jurists and theologians on one hand, and the mystics on the other. Of course, a Shia mystic may include the recitation of the Qur’an in their practice, speak of God and His oneness, and discuss topics of divine guardianship (Wilayah) in ways that bewilder intellects and soften hearts. A Shia scholar, likewise, does not neglect the recitation of the Qur’an, remains committed to it, and reflects upon the hadiths related to God’s oneness and guardianship, regarding the narrations on Wilayah as some of the most beautiful words. Their eyes focus on them, and they consider themselves devoted to the rightful guardians of this divine authority. Yet, where does the knowledge of a mystic stand, and where does the acquired knowledge of a scholar lie? The resemblance between religious scholars and accomplished mystics is far greater than the similarity between blacksmithing and carpentry, for at least the raw materials in blacksmithing and carpentry are distinct—one works with iron, and the other with wood. But there are religious scholars who have memorized the entire Qur’an, while few mystics can commit the entire Qur’an to memory. Instead, the mystic retains only the verses that are necessary for their specific needs.

In this context, a religious scholar who believes they have mastery over the entire Qur’an might develop a sense of superiority over mystics. However, a mystic rarely lacks an awareness of their own position and the differences between themselves and the scholars. They occupy a higher horizon, seeing their domain of knowledge in a positive light and looking down with humility upon others. A mystic views such a scholar as someone who possesses memorized knowledge and information, and while they respect them for their scholarly accomplishments, they cannot accept them in their own specialized field, which is gnosis. Similarly, a scholar, because they lack a proper understanding of mystical insights, cannot readily accept the teachings of mystics. This is why very few scholars of religion are able to engage in mysticism and spiritual practice. You may conduct a study to determine how many religious scholars we have had, and what percentage of them have turned to mysticism and gnosis, particularly the kind of mysticism that is rooted in love, rather than the self-proclaimed asceticism that is devoid of true understanding and only concerned with rituals, miracles (whether true or false), and an overemphasis on worship that may even lead to hardness of heart, without any knowledge of God or the rightful possessors of divine guardianship.

The dispute between jurists and mystics, as well as the philosophical debates surrounding mysticism, is a complex matter that warrants an independent investigation. Those who have a deep connection to mysticism and can assist others in their spiritual journey are less likely to have students from the scholarly community, whereas other professions may easily accept disciples of accomplished mystics, practicing their teachings and reaching spiritual heights. However, it is rare to find a scholar who will trust a spiritual guide, even if that guide is learned in the sciences, and follow their mystical guidance. This is because the scholar, with their analytical, scientific mind, cannot fully comprehend mystical knowledge. Their understanding of such matters is unclear, and they are trapped in a shadowy space, requiring a “proof” that is more fragile than a hair’s breadth. Naturally, their restless intellect, which has not been cultivated in love or familiarized with the worlds of affection and divine guardianship, cannot produce the kind of intellectual evidence that would bring peace to their mind, let alone their heart.

If a scholar is fortunate enough to encounter a true mystic and visits one who has achieved spiritual realization, they will not approach them with love and affection, but rather with a mindset of “testing” them. The scholar will subject the mystic to an “examination,” seeking to understand what knowledge the mystic has of existence, rather than approaching them with the mindset of someone in need of healing. The interaction between a scholar and a mystic in this case resembles the behavior of a busybody or inquisitive person rather than someone who is wounded and seeking a remedy for their troubled heart and soul. When the scholar encounters a mystic, even if they are a saintly figure, they approach them out of intellectual curiosity rather than with the sincere intention of learning from their wisdom. A mystic, on the other hand, is like someone who has experienced the pain of poverty or the suffering of an ill loved one, and when they find assistance, they are forever grateful.

The Preservation of the Specialised Boundaries of Sciences and Mysticism

When an individual lacks a specialised or expert perspective in various sciences and crafts, they tend to perceive them as similar. For instance, they might expect a philosopher to explain a legal narrative and a carpenter to perform the work of a blacksmith. While it is true that both the blacksmith and carpenter shape iron and wood, sometimes crafting similar forms, and both may construct frameworks, should this similarity lead the carpenter to believe that he can perform the blacksmith’s work or engage in casting, or that by knowing the dimensions of a frame and the positioning of its hinges, he would have a comprehensive understanding of shaping metal for doors and frames?

Just as blacksmithing and carpentry are similar professions with many commonalities, the outward appearance of a scholar or a theologian and someone engaged in spiritual practices and mysticism seems very much alike. However, the true nature of these two is vastly different. The knowledge of a scholar or jurist is not equivalent to the gnosis of a mystic, and a clear distinction must be made between scholars and mystics. Of course, a Shia mystic incorporates the recitation of the Qur’an into their practice, speaks of God and His oneness, and discusses the concept of Wilaya (spiritual guardianship) in ways that confuse the intellects and move the hearts. Likewise, a Shia scholar does not abandon the recitation of the Qur’an, engages in its continuous study, reaches the hadiths on oneness (Tawhid), recites the declaration of God’s oneness (Tahlil), and considers the narrations of Wilaya as the sweetest words, which he contemplates, dedicating himself to those who hold spiritual authority. However, the mystical knowledge of a mystic and the academic knowledge of a scholar—where do they converge? The similarity between religious scholars and mystics, who have attained direct experience of spiritual knowledge, is far greater than that of blacksmithing and carpentry. This is because, at the very least, the raw materials of these professions—iron for the blacksmith and wood for the carpenter—are distinct, whereas religious scholars may memorise the entire Qur’an, while fewer mystics can retain the full text. A mystic tends to preserve only those verses of the Qur’an that are necessary for their spiritual practice.

It is possible that a religious scholar, who believes he possesses a comprehensive understanding of the Qur’an, might develop an arrogant attitude towards mystics, yet a true mystic is less likely to fall into the trap of arrogance. They are well aware of their own position and the distinction between themselves and scholars, for they stand at a higher spiritual level, seeing their own domain with goodness and observing the lower realms with a compassionate perspective. A mystic views the scholar as someone who possesses memorised knowledge but cannot accept them in the realm of their own specialised field—gnosis. Similarly, scholars, due to their lack of genuine understanding of mystical knowledge, often find it difficult to accept the teachings of mystics. This is why it is rare for scholars to become true practitioners of mystical knowledge.

You could conduct research to determine how many religious scholars have turned to mysticism and knowledge. However, this refers to mysticism of love, not the type of mystical practices based on self-claiming asceticism that lacks true gnosis, which only involves narrating either true or fabricated miracles and performing numerous rituals that can sometimes lead to spiritual rigidity. Such practices lack the fundamental teachings of God and the holders of spiritual authority. Indeed, the debate between scholars and mystics, as well as the philosophical disputes they have with each other, is an area that warrants independent investigation.

Those who engage in true mysticism and can offer spiritual guidance are less likely to have students among scholars, whereas other professions often more readily accept the guidance of genuine mystics and turn their mystical teachings into practical solutions, leading to a higher level of spirituality. It is rare for a scholar to trust a spiritual master, even if the master is a scholar themselves, or to follow their spiritual advice. This is because the scholar often approaches such teachings with a rational, analytical mind, which is not attuned to the subtlety of mysticism, leaving their understanding incomplete and clouded.

When a scholar is fortunate enough to encounter a true mystic, they often approach them not out of love or reverence, but rather with the mindset of testing or questioning them, seeking to understand the mystic’s worldview and knowledge of existence. The scholar’s approach is more akin to that of a curious, speculative investigator than a person in need of healing. The mystic, on the other hand, is not concerned with presenting spiritual knowledge to the public; they live in a state of humility and concealment, understanding that genuine mysticism requires an attitude of discretion, not one of public display. Mysticism does not seek to entertain or impress the masses, nor does it present the otherworldly for mere spectacle or to gain respect.

Religious scholars often struggle to enter the realm of mysticism because of the accumulated knowledge they have, which becomes a barrier to spiritual insight. This accumulated information is like a heavy curtain blocking the light of wisdom from reaching their hearts. In contrast, individuals who approach mysticism with a more open, unburdened mind, free from the weight of excessive knowledge, are more receptive to mystical teachings. The scholar’s knowledge, though extensive, often lacks the necessary qualities of spiritual insight, and thus, they may not engage fully with the profound experiences of the mystic.

For example, it is not uncommon for scholars to engage in intellectual debates, armed with a wealth of knowledge, but still lack the inner peace and connection to God that a true mystic experiences. Even when a scholar studies deeply and gains new information, they may not integrate that knowledge into their soul, whereas a mystic, who may not engage in formal study or write down their experiences, lives and practices their knowledge constantly, internalising it to reach spiritual fulfilment.

Religious scholars are often immersed in the external, the world of knowledge and information, whereas mystics focus solely on the internal, refining their hearts and purifying their souls. The scholar’s life is busy with lectures, research, and public duties, yet they may find little time to engage deeply with their own spiritual growth. The mystic, however, devotes their time solely to the cultivation of their soul, and in doing so, their every action becomes an expression of divine knowledge. This profound difference in approach to life and knowledge is what separates true mystics from religious scholars, and it is a divide that remains difficult for many scholars to cross.

The Distinction Between Scholars and Seekers of Mysticism

In discussing the difference between scholars and mystics or seekers of spiritual knowledge, it was said that a scholar seeks knowledge in order to convey it to others, believing themselves to hold the role of a messenger and informant. Their needs, before being personal, are external, and they are more concerned with others than with their own inner struggles. The scholar reads extensively, yet the knowledge they acquire is less about personal utility and more about presenting it to others. The primary characteristic of the scholar’s learning is its outward focus, rather than any internal or personal benefit. In contrast, mystical knowledge is deeply personal, and it has no connection to others. Based on the principle of “concealment,” a mystic hides even their own spiritual realizations so that others may not be aware of them. The mystic carries a personal burden, tormented by separation, suffering from a pain that is theirs alone and has no practical benefit for others.

This fundamental difference between scholars and mystics has resulted in the rarity of scholars embarking successfully on a mystical journey. The divergence between these two paths is so pronounced that it is as though they are two parallel lines that will never intersect. Mysticism requires unity and solitude, and it is painful. Knowledge, on the other hand, increases multiplicity, and this multiplicity often leads the scholar into busyness and detachment from personal suffering. A mystic is confronted with a pain that prevents them from engaging in any other activity. A deep sorrow fills their heart, rendering them incapable of action. In contrast, knowledge fosters a celebratory attitude, leading the scholar into a constant state of activity, drawn towards society, and filling their presence with pride and social significance. Mysticism, however, brings isolation and a sense of estrangement, leaving the mystic so crushed by their experiences that nothing of them remains in society, not even a trace of their name.

For the mystic, the experience of knowledge is like cancer to a patient, slowly consuming the body, including even the bones. The mystic’s suffering is like a disease of separation, burning with grief and pain, and this affliction becomes the rhythm of their existence. For such a person, nothing in the worldly realm holds any appeal. The distractions of the world fail to captivate them unless they become excessive, causing them to wear themselves out on this journey. The mystic resembles someone on their deathbed, always aware of their mortality, with no desire or inclination left for worldly comfort. At times, the mystic may reach a point where they are unable to respond to a sweet greeting from a young daughter running towards them with love, or to look upon the face of a wife who has spent time adorning herself to bring them joy and ease their burdens. Even engaging in conversation with a daughter-in-law may feel beyond their ability. They are slandered by the ignorant, criticized, and mocked, yet the mystic, like someone on their deathbed, cannot react. They are beyond justice and law; their mind, like the mind of a dying person, is not in their control, and it can only turn towards what is truly important to them.

The distinction between a scholar and a seeker of mystical knowledge is profound. Scholars, with their intellectual pursuits, are akin to a mountain range that obstructs their access to mysticism, whereas ordinary individuals do not face such a daunting barrier and are not ensnared in the veil of intellectual pride that requires such purging. Thus, mysticism can settle more easily in their hearts and minds.

We do not consider a scholar or a student of knowledge who places primary value on their scholarly learning to be suitable for receiving the explanation of Shia spirituality. This is because they pursue knowledge but fail to turn towards action. They organize their practices based solely on the partial knowledge they have gathered from various books, and they never regard the teachings of a spiritual master with true trust. Likewise, we do not consider monasteries to be suitable for this purpose either, for some of the dervishes there are either corrupted or involved in the political machinations of foreign powers, serving as their agents. Scholars seek prestige and authority, considering their failures to be heavy burdens to bear, while mystics seek the purification of their inner being, desiring only the spiritual home of God. Scholars may know the entire outward form of divine revelation and the words of the Ahl al-Bayt (the Family of the Prophet), but they cannot drink from the pure water of this vast ocean. The mystic, however, possesses meaning and power and, having drawn from this ocean in measured sips, has reached a point where they, like the spring of Kawthar, can quench the thirst of anyone with the joy and vitality of their own being, offering the spirit of life full of hope and free from weariness.

At this point, we have discussed the differences between the path of mysticism and the acquisition of knowledge. It is now better to present some of the principles of mysticism that are fundamentally distinct from the pursuit of knowledge.

Most of those who only seek knowledge desire to know everything and to possess all types of knowledge. Such individuals are like spoiled children who want everything they see. Naturally, this attitude, which leads to great distraction, is at odds with the mystic’s path.

A person who seeks knowledge will gradually feel its effects on themselves, while the mystic requires patience, for the peak of human ego must be pricked by the needle of asceticism, but this is not a gradual process. The result of such efforts is sudden, and after years of spiritual discipline, the peak of the ego crumbles and is blown away. The work is time-consuming and requires great patience, but at a certain point, a door opens, and a moment’s realization is equivalent to decades of effort. Knowledge is a gradual process, but mysticism is an immediate experience, although its prerequisites are shaped over time. In the realm of knowledge, the amount of work to be done each day is clear, whereas in mysticism, it is not so. The seeker may spend years struggling and feel they are making no progress, yet suddenly a door opens, and they realize how far they have come, though it is also possible they may fail after many years. In a school of knowledge, a student learns progressively, and no one can learn a year’s worth of knowledge in a single day.

If someone believes the pursuit of mystical knowledge is akin to the pursuit of intellectual knowledge, and that they can learn to become a person of spiritual depth in the same way they learn facts, they are mistaken! One can become a jurist or a theologian through study, but one cannot become a mystic simply by reading. Mysticism is not acquired by study alone, just as a poet may know all the rules of poetry but still be unable to compose a single verse.

To reach mystical knowledge, the seeker must undergo emotional transformation, renounce physical indulgence, consume lawful sustenance, seek solitude, and make sacrifices. They must embody the traits of the mystics, trust and commit to their path, dedicating time and avoiding despair, for sometimes one must knock on the door for decades before it opens. The seeker must perform their part diligently, knowing that the rest is beyond their control.

Knowledge is concerned with outward forms and appearances, while mysticism is an inner pursuit. One should not expect immediate results from spiritual practice. The result of mysticism is not gradual, meaning one should not expect to see day-by-day progress from ascetic practices. Instead, the mystic may remain in a particular station for years, only to suddenly rise to a much higher level. If mysticism were merely a school, the individual would learn things that are not useful and would not attain true power or understanding. Instead, they must undergo discipline, prayer, inner purification, health, sincerity, solitude, and avoidance of multiplicity, and whatever results come from this journey are not immediately understandable to the beginner, except for certain emotions like ecstasy and grief, which will be discussed later in their own chapter. In mysticism, one should not focus on what will be gained from the practices, but rather submit to God and accept whatever is placed in the seeker’s path.

Another difference between knowledge and mysticism is that the greatest obstacle to the mystic is doubt. A mystic who doubts is like an ant that, after climbing a difficult height, falls back to the ground and must begin the climb again. Doubt in a scholar, however, serves to enhance their knowledge. It is said that someone gave a written note to another, telling them to walk on water, and the person trusted the note and began walking on water. However, when they read the note, they saw the phrase “Bismillah” and doubted its power, causing them to sink. Whether or not this story is true, the general principle holds that doubt destroys the existence of the mystic, while it is a means of growth for the scholar. The mystic should not doubt, nor should they set conditions for the opening of the path of knowledge.

The mystic should not consider themselves a student of a school, seeking to adopt an academic approach in order to reach knowledge. Mysticism does not have ranks, unlike knowledge. The scholars of the past valued mysticism and inherited the ocean of spiritual knowledge from the prophets, whereas contemporary scholars tend to focus more on acquiring knowledge, following the surface-level pursuit of learning.

A mystic who is a student must learn not to confuse their spiritual journey with academic calculations or classroom methods.

The journey of mysticism is one of simplicity, while knowledge can be acquired through cleverness. A man once went to the late Mr. Qazi’s son seeking knowledge of the occult, bringing a large fish as a gift. Mr. Qazi told me, “I am an old man with no teeth, and I don’t have a refrigerator, what do I need this fish for? If he had brought me some stewed meat and said, ‘Let’s eat together,’ it would have been more meaningful. But he brings me a big fish, and I just put it outside for someone else to take and use.”

Knowledge and Wisdom: A Comparative View

Knowledge cannot be obtained through money or bribes, but it is possible to purchase knowledge and to have a scholar serve in the role of a teacher. In the realm of knowledge, the seeker does not need to obtain permission from the teacher to receive something, but if the seeker is evasive and even tries to flee from the teacher, and the teacher is assigned to impart knowledge to them, the teacher will take hold of their hand and place them back on the path of knowledge, teaching them what they need to learn, even if the seeker always carries the teacher’s affection. In school, knowledge can be learned merely by sitting in class, even if the student does not have a good relationship with the teacher, much like congregational prayer, where the satisfaction of the imam is not a condition, but justice is.

In the school of knowledge, every student is accepted, and there is no selection process; rather, all are obligated to acquire knowledge and literacy. It is a general, widespread, common, and large-scale matter. Success for all those entering this path is almost guaranteed; generally, no one can attend school without learning something. However, wisdom is a private, individual matter. A school is an educational institution with a practical necessity, a public, accessible, and widespread way for everyone, while wisdom is particular and specialized. Success in a school is largely statistical, and it is almost impossible for a person to attend classes and learn nothing. In contrast, wisdom is a gift, not an acquisition; it is bestowed, not learned through education. The path of wisdom is the path of the prophets, none of whom attended schools or studied in traditional institutions. Knowledge is a practice of school gatherings, while wisdom is an affair of lovers, a play with blood. Knowledge requires the ear, while wisdom requires the eye. Knowledge obstructs wisdom, while wisdom produces knowledge. Accordingly, a scholar who lacks the ability to shed or transform their knowledge, who cannot let go of it, will not attain wisdom. Knowledge, despite being good and complete, is an obstacle to wisdom unless the scholar cultivates the ability to transform it.

The Principle of the Ability to Transform and Switch

If, with a broad understanding of the previous principle, a scholar or seminary student wishes to embark on the path of spiritual growth and prepare themselves for this perilous and difficult journey, with no return, the first thing they must do is cultivate the ability to switch between roles. This means that, when engaging in spiritual practices, the seeker must be one who does not identify with any particular knowledge. When they enter their scholarly life, they must approach it as if they know nothing about mysticism. They should not express any opinions in this field, nor should they publicly display their mystical knowledge. The teachings given to them should remain hidden, and they must avoid mixing their mystical practices with their academic duties. A seminary student should remember that they are a student first and seek to learn mysticism while remaining loyal to their teacher and not to themselves. Their spiritual path should not distract them from their primary duty of studying and teaching.

The first responsibility of the seminary student is to maintain their position and status, and they should not confuse their religious studies with mystical practices. Their spiritual practices should not interfere with their academic life. They must have mastery over switching between these roles, ensuring that when they engage in one, they leave the other behind. A seminary student should not bring their knowledge into their spiritual practices, nor should they allow their spiritual practices to invade their academic responsibilities.

A scholar who lacks the ability to switch between roles will not be able to approach mysticism, nor will a mystic who cannot master the ability to switch between the two roles be able to engage in scholarly life. There are few mystics who can become scholars, or scholars who turn towards mysticism. Those who do so are often tired of scholarship and turn to mysticism, or they are mystics who have a wise and experienced teacher to guide them.

It is important not to confuse mysticism with piety and religiosity, as not all those who have mysticism are necessarily pious. Scholars of formal knowledge can be saints and devout believers, but the domain of piety and religiosity is different from that of mysticism. However, it is possible to combine both. Mysticism is more easily reconciled with faith than with knowledge. Mysticism is the realm of barefoot travelers, who leave behind all their possessions as they walk through difficult terrain. Mystics purify themselves by removing vices, and after that, they adorn themselves with virtues. In contrast, scholars are burdened by the weight of their knowledge. Mysticism, unlike knowledge, does not require preservation or safeguarding of material possessions. While it is true that “knowledge protects you while you guard wealth,” this narration applies to the domain of knowledge, not mysticism, where both knowledge and wealth must be abandoned.

Knowledge as Wealth, Mysticism as Poverty

Knowledge is wealth and power, while mysticism is poverty and powerlessness. If a scholar wishes to become a mystic, they must be able to combine both having and lacking. This is a combination that philosophy often deems impossible, as it holds that one cannot be both “possessor” and “non-possessor” at the same time. Mysticism, as it involves poverty, is a realm where the seeker must let go of all attachments and possessions. Knowledge, on the other hand, demands that one possess something—be it intellectual or material wealth.

Thus, a scholar who wishes to become a mystic must possess the ability to switch between these two roles. They must be able to present one aspect of themselves as possessing knowledge, while in another context, they appear as though they have nothing. This ability to transform is akin to a dual-fuel car, which can switch between gas and petrol. It is important to note that the ability to switch is not the same as having a “substitute” or “doppelgänger.” In transformation, a person can take on different roles, while a substitute involves multiple entities assuming a single form. Some mystics who possess a substitute may control a spirit or a creature and manifest it in their form, but we are here concerned with the ability to transform within the individual. This transformation allows the mystic to be both a scholar and a mystic without one detracting from the other.

A mystic with the ability to transform will be so skilful in their transformation that no one will be able to recognize their true nature, unless they possess specialized knowledge in this area. When a person of falsehood encounters the mystic in their transformed state, they will see them as the most false individual of the time, and when encountering them in their true form, they will recognize them as a true servant of God. A mystic with the ability to transform, when performing prayers, will disengage from knowledge and not become entangled in worldly concerns. The seeker should be like some seminary students who have two personalities—when they wear the scholar’s robe, they are a distinguished scholar, but when they are not in their academic role, they appear as a simple individual who is not recognized as a scholar. Despite this, their scholarly nature is always evident, like the “beak of a rooster” that cannot be hidden.

However, the mystic must have the skill to maintain their transformation so effectively that, when seen as an ordinary person, no one would suspect them of possessing knowledge or mysticism. When they take on the role of a scholar, no one would suspect they possess anything beyond their academic expertise. Furthermore, when they speak or preach, they should not confuse religious duties with mystical truths. Mysticism is not suitable for all people, as it involves loss and separation, and only those with strong willpower can endure its trials. For those with weak resolve, mysticism offers nothing but suffering.

For Achieving This Meaning, One Must Practice:

To achieve this state, one must practice to ensure that during moments of spiritual discipline and remembrance (dhikr), the mind is not disturbed by thoughts of exams, lessons, or feelings of being left behind in the pursuit of knowledge, refinement, art, power, fame, or politics. Such a restless heart, scattered in all directions, cannot achieve the power of concentration or focus on a single point. It cannot stand still like the proud horses that, when placed at a certain spot, remain rooted in place. The first step is to practice and allocate time to this task, so that within ten minutes or more, the mind focuses on a single point, without allowing anything else—whether knowledge, information, or mental images—to interfere. Of course, the ability to transform oneself is only possible for a wayfarer who possesses self-mastery and is a keeper of secrets. One who can even conceal themselves from their own self—not someone who cannot keep a pleasant dream hidden and eagerly shares it with their aunt in the early hours before breakfast. A true mystic is someone who, even if their tongue is removed from their throat, would refuse to speak or gesture.

For a seeker, knowledge is like holding an umbrella on a sunny spring day, which only obstructs the enjoyment of nature’s beauty and vitality. A seeker must be in a state where they are not contaminated or mixed with anything and do not blend the boundaries of their various roles. Anyone whose mind is preoccupied with too many things, whose hands are busy and whose heart is restless, pulling in every direction and desiring everything, cannot create the focus and concentration necessary to enter the world of the transcendental. Someone without the ability to transform will easily lose themselves in the faces of distractions and reveal their innermost secrets to those who, like vultures, seek to devour their spirit.

A mind burdened with many tasks cannot harbor the longing for pain and separation. Associating with such a person is merely a superficial encounter, bringing no benefit beyond idle chatter. A preoccupied mind does not engage with the heart. Such a mind holds the heart captive, leading it to the sacrificial altar, purging it of all impurities.

One must reduce distractions and memories and dedicate a few minutes to solitude, away from the busy presence of a spouse or children, even if it means retreating to the kitchen, to practice concentration without their noticing. The seeker must be so skilled in concealment that their spouse sees nothing in them but an ordinary person, not a mystic. In the home I reside in, I have a separate room from my family, and another room for my mother, who is over ninety years old. I take great care to ensure she is comfortable in her old age, and I listen to her prayers and invocations. Sometimes she looks into my room and asks, “What are you doing at night?” I reply, “I’m studying,” but she says, “Your light is off. If you’re studying, why is the light off?” I respond, “Mother, why should my actions concern you? You do your thing, and I’ll do mine.” No one, not even a spouse or child, should ever discover that their husband or father is a mystic or visionary, for this would not lead to spiritual purity, but rather to hypocrisy.

The entrance of scholars into the spiritual path often involves a period of loss, where they may temporarily lose some of their knowledge, but in the end, it leads them to creativity and innovation. They reach a stage where they can answer any question without needing to refer to books or texts, and whoever draws from them will never find themselves in dryness. The spring of their knowledge will never cease to flow. However, this process is not without its pains; in the beginning, scholars may lose part of their knowledge and memory. For a time, they may be unable to recover it, until their hearts become purified and their inner being begins to surge with clarity. It is then that their need for external knowledge is forever cut off, and they become a perpetual source of creation and expansion. The initial stages of the mystical path are marked by the shedding of knowledge and memory, but the ultimate end is to possess an endless source of wisdom.

At first, a seeker’s ability to transform is weak, but in the end, by connecting with their deeper essence, they can take on countless forms. Of course, this requires continuous and dedicated practice. Letting go of knowledge and releasing it is a difficult task, and the pain of losing knowledge that was painstakingly acquired is even greater when it is reduced to nothing before the face of true spiritual knowledge. A seeker must sacrifice their knowledge, like offering an established edifice as a sacrifice to poverty and ruin. Knowledge is full of methods and techniques, while mysticism is without craft or tricks; it is pure action, power, and will that can take on any form, transforming desires, food, sleep, and even knowledge into acts of will.

The saying, “I have moments with God that no angel close to God or messenger prophet can bear,” reflects the reality that the purest mystics experience diverse spiritual states, never remaining in one form for long. They hold the sword of Zulfiqar firmly in battle, yet in prayer, they see nothing before them except God. The seeker, especially if they are a scholar, must be able to interact with all kinds of people and adapt to both the good and the bad, which requires the ability to transform. This ability to transform is a key teaching in popular mysticism, which emphasizes submission and surrender rather than transformation. We will discuss submission in another context.

A seeker with the ability to transform can, if they are sleeping, shift to a state of wakefulness; if they are hungry, they can turn hunger into satiety, and if they are warm, they can turn warmth into coolness. Of course, if the seeker engages in such practices, they first learn to control their sleep, as it is lighter and more easily manageable than wakefulness. This practice should precede the remembrance (dhikr) and similar exercises. During this time, the seeker should practice general remembrances, such as “There is no god but God,” without going beyond this until they can make their sleep, food, and desires truly voluntary.

The terms “the ability to discard and don,” “being submissive,” and “being of the moment” all express a single meaning, which we refer to as “the ability to transform and shift.” Being “of the moment” does not mean being hypocritical; rather, it means that the seeker can discard or don something and be in the present moment, fully immersed in whatever they are doing. If they are studying, they do not mix that with eating; if they are praying, they pray solely and do not allow other thoughts or distractions to mix with it. They maintain clarity and focus in every manifestation, seeking only the intended result and not mixing it with other matters. In the presence of a spouse, they do not act as a mystic, but in the moment, they are wholly present as a shepherd when needed, ensuring the safety of their flock from wolves, or as a prophet when needed, acting in their prophetic role.

They do not mix knowledge with mysticism, and they observe the boundaries, etiquettes, and necessary requirements of each, placing everything in its rightful place. This is the “state of synthesis,” which makes the seeker superior to both the mystic and the scholar. The mystic has only mysticism, and the scholar has only knowledge, but the one who embodies the “state of synthesis” can combine both, maintaining them in their rightful place with the power of transformation. When they are in the physical realm, they leave other concerns behind; when they ascend spiritually, they no longer see the physical realm. One who possesses the state of synthesis can, if they wish, pretend to know nothing, while a scholar cannot escape from the knowledge they have, whether they wish to or not.

This is the one who possesses the power to conceal and hide themselves. On the path of knowledge, one must be quiet, calm, and silent, for this is only possible with the ability to transform.

We spoke earlier of the concept of “submission.” Submission refers to a kind of active will. One who is submissive can perform many tasks simultaneously. They can be engaged in prayer and, in an instant, shift focus to something else, yet without losing their presence. Such a person performs all tasks with their will in control. However, someone who lacks submission performs tasks based on habit, not conscious control, and their actions are not governed by deliberate will. A person with submission has the ability to execute every task with full conscious engagement, while someone without submission lacks control and performs tasks without full intentionality.

The Crystal Clear Heart and Its Incompatibility with Contamination

The true seeker (saalik) is one who does not turn his heart into a garbage bin, nor allows the hardships and problems that arise in life to find their way into his heart. His heart is reserved solely for spiritual practice. A heart that allows everything to enter is merely a storehouse of waste. No seeker is without challenges in life, but one who deals with them in a polluted manner contaminates their heart, whereas the true seeker aims for a heart as clear as crystal. This heart does not look towards the material world (nasut) nor mixes with it, and the trials and tribulations of the world do not settle in the crevices of the heart.

In the final notes of the Isharat, the esteemed Khwaja writes:

“I see around me everything as a trial,
Yet I am the gem, and trials are but the ring.”

This profound statement reveals that although the Khwaja was immersed in trials and surrounded by problems, his heart remained intoxicated and unaffected by them, likening himself to the gem and the trials to the ring, with no interaction between the two. Of course, we often fail to appreciate the depth of his words, as we tend to focus more on the literal meaning. If a person has been tortured, just hearing the word “torture” will remind them of the pain of the lash and the suffering they endured. But someone who has never been tortured would not feel any pain upon hearing the word.

What is important here is that the Khwaja is saying that he prevented the affliction from infiltrating his life and heart. He uses the metaphor of the ring and the gem, where the gem is separate from the ring and does not allow anything to penetrate it. Although the ring protects the gem, they are still two separate entities. Similarly, the seeker’s heart should remain untouched by the world, and no matter the challenges life brings, it must not pollute the purity of the heart or the path of spiritual practice.

Someone who is easily distressed or overwhelmed by every problem that arises in life will not succeed in their spiritual journey. This principle also applies to acquiring knowledge. Those who fill their minds with trivial information, without purpose or depth, leave no room for genuine learning. For example, someone who memorises countless phone numbers, recites verses of the Quran, watches the news, listens to the radio, and keeps up with multiple social media outlets may have vast amounts of information, but they are unlikely to use this knowledge meaningfully. They might possess knowledge, but they lack the ability to apply it with depth or understanding. They will never achieve true knowledge, which requires focus and the ability to synthesise information in a coherent manner.

The true scholar does not mix unrelated information into their studies, just as the true seeker does not fill their heart with worldly concerns. The heart and mind are the true assets of a person; everything else is fleeting and material, subject to loss and decay.

I once knew a young man who was full of brilliance. He had memorised thousands of phone numbers and could perform arithmetic faster than a calculator. He hosted countless parties and was very skilled in shopping, particularly when selecting fruit. However, he channelled his intelligence and talents into trivial matters, unable to focus on serious academic or spiritual pursuits. I would often remind him that such pursuits were not proper. In contrast, I know fewer than ten phone numbers by heart, and I rarely remember addresses. I am always focused on other matters and forget such details.

It is difficult to separate the matters of daily life from spiritual practice, but the seeker must do so. One should not be like someone whose heart is a stomach that receives everything indiscriminately. Spiritual practice requires a dedicated space in the heart, and the seeker must be as if they are not in this world, detached from its concerns. As we have previously mentioned, the ability to ‘transform and relocate’ is crucial. The seeker must train themselves to maintain spiritual practice even in the face of difficulties. For example, I knew a scholar who, because of the oppression he faced from the rulers of his time, claimed that his pen had dried up and he could no longer write. This shows a lack of ability to transform and relocate their thoughts and emotions.

If the seeker were to be sentenced to death, their heart should not tremble. It is said that when Aristotle was asked where he should be buried, he replied: “When I die, wherever you bury me, I will no longer be there.” This reflects a state of complete detachment from the physical body and worldly concerns.

The Ability to Withdraw (Inṣirāf)

Inṣirāf refers to the act of emptying the self and heart of everything unrelated to the area of knowledge or power that the seeker intends to focus on. A true seeker, in this state, is like a sleeping person whose consciousness and attention are detached from external senses and bodily concerns. A person with the ability to withdraw from all external matters, even in a state of wakefulness, becomes light in spirit and enters a state known as ‘khalṣa’ (a trance-like state between sleep and wakefulness), where their state is lighter than a person asleep.

The seeker must first learn to withdraw from their own desires and distractions before they can reach true knowledge, which is akin to direct spiritual insight (shuhūd), and the power to perform tasks with full control. The seeker is like a weightlifter who focuses all their energy on lifting a heavy weight. Similarly, the seeker must concentrate their mind and spirit by withdrawing from everything that might interfere with their spiritual practice. They must not be burdened by debts, multiple distractions, or excessive concerns in order to be ready for “concentration” (istijmāʿ), which is the gathering of scattered energies within the body and soul for a particular task.

The seeker must first train themselves in small, controlled moments of withdrawal. For example, they can practice emptying their mind of everything for a few minutes and focus on not allowing any thoughts to enter their mind. Practising withdrawal from oneself is even more difficult than withdrawing from external distractions. The seeker must try to not think about themselves, even for a short time, and should also practice not being aware of their breathing. This can only be achieved through training in controlled breathing exercises.

Withdrawal from the self is like a slippery fish that slips away from one’s grip. The seeker must train through multiple exercises, gradually progressing from withdrawal from one thing to withdrawal from many things over a longer period, eventually reaching a complete detachment, including from the self. Such exercises should be carried out in solitude, darkness, and quiet, where the seeker is least distracted.

For the seeker to achieve withdrawal, their stomach should neither be too full nor too empty. They should not be burdened by hunger or excess food, as either extreme would interfere with their spiritual practice. This is similar to a fasting person, where the very thought of breaking the fast invalidates it, even if they do not physically eat. The smallest distraction will break the state of withdrawal. The seeker must maintain a light stomach and learn to detach from food, neither being overfull nor overly hungry.

The seeker’s state of withdrawal is initially like a river bringing in dirty water, but with continuous training, the water becomes clearer and purer. Through persistent and continuous practice of withdrawal, the seeker gradually reaches a state where they can focus on anything they choose with full awareness and control.

Just as athletes train for a year for a single competition, the seeker in spiritual matters requires persistent training. The world is a gradual place, and the seeker must move step by step, progressing slowly. Some exercises must even be practised during sleep, as the seeker is lighter and more detached from external senses during this time. In withdrawal, the seeker must avoid choosing random and scattered subjects; they should concentrate on one thing at a time, guided by their teacher. Over time, this ability to withdraw allows the seeker to maintain full concentration, even in a crowd.

After achieving withdrawal, the seeker must develop the power of ‘reception’ (istiqbāl) and focus on something like a dhikr (remembrance of God), which will eventually become deeply ingrained in their being.

The One with Diverse Worship but Without Withdrawal and Concentration

Someone who performs abundant and varied acts of worship but without withdrawal (inṣirāf) and concentration (istijmāʿ) is like someone who engages in extensive study. Such a person does not become a scholar; instead, their mind becomes muddled and closed, and they lose the ability to analyse matters effectively.

All forms of spiritual power and intuitive knowledge are achieved through withdrawal and concentration. For instance, a martial artist who appears physically weak can break more than ten tiles with a single punch. Such an act is accomplished through concentration and speed, without causing injury to the hand, as the focus of the pressure is on the mind. The rapid motion between the skin, bone, and tile reduces friction, allowing the seemingly frail hand to smash and break the tiles. A spiritual seeker, in the pursuit of knowledge and spiritual practice, attains powers far beyond this.

We have often mentioned in this book that we speak of the spiritual journey of those who find a spiritual guide. Otherwise, those who are guided by a beloved teacher belong to another realm. The souls of those who are deeply devoted have such speed that they must slow down, metaphorically speaking, like “the slow movement of the camel or the donkey,” because the inclination towards the material world is very difficult for their soul, and only a heavy and wicked soul, like that of ‘Aisha, can bear the constant burdens of this world.

The perfect saints and lovers have the ability to unify themselves in the midst of a crowd. They can, while surrounded by others, disengage from everything. They may sleep among the crowd or speak, yet without anyone noticing, they are traversing through the unseen realms. Someone who has attained such unity does not need to exert effort on their stomach or other parts of the body to achieve withdrawal and concentration.

The faithful also possess the ability to refrain from things that would invalidate their fast during Ramadan. Any desire is removed from them, and their fast is constantly with them, unlike a child fasting who complains about thirst and hunger and makes excuses for food and drink.

The Power of Concentration

Anyone who wishes to transform themselves and preserve the clarity and purity of their heart must possess a strong will. The process of strengthening the will will be explained through several principles, but the core element of a strong will is “the power of concentration” (istijmāʿ). In the early stages of the spiritual journey, the soul is restless, and the individual lacks the strength to master their desires. They become easily impatient, tire quickly, forget their goals, and give in to various pleasures and desires. To overcome such states, the individual must gather all their latent potential energy, which exists as potential power within them, and release it to help accomplish their tasks. “Concentration” is the result of gathering scattered forces, which can be collected gradually.

The seeker must be able to concentrate and use all their inner strengths for a specific task. They must be “people of unity,” fully immersed in the task at hand. The novice seeker is weak and limited and cannot connect themselves to higher realms without accumulating a certain amount of concentrated energy, which can only be attained through concentration. For instance, when performing prayer, which is the ascension and flight of the believer’s soul, concentration plays a crucial role. It would be possible to test the role of “concentration” in spiritual ascension by selecting four distinct groups of believers, sinners, Muslims, and non-Muslims, and studying them over five years. Some would pray with their back turned to the Qibla without ablution, others facing the Qibla with ablution, and some with full attention and concentration. After this period, the results would reveal the effects of faith, prayer, and concentration on the soul’s ascent.

The validity of any action, prayer, or thought depends on the ability to establish a connection, attention, and concentration of the heart and mind on God. Concentration is necessary for establishing equilibrium with the rapid motion of the worlds of creation. We are unaware that God is a truth with essential life, continuously moving, not merely a concept. The seeker, who intends to reach this reality, must use concentration to align themselves with this inexhaustible force that moves at an infinite speed. This can only be achieved through the concentration of the soul, using all available power, attention, will, and action.

One who possesses the will to concentrate will find that God’s grace accompanies them, enabling them to synchronize their journey with the rapid flow of creation and to benefit from the energy of the unseen realms. This is similar to someone praying who does not allow their mind to wander. Concentration gives the individual the strength to choose their actions deliberately and effectively. This concept is present in legal rulings and the execution of contracts. A marriage contract, for example, is not valid without a formal expression of the will, just as no action is completed without the proper manifestation of intention, even if words are spoken.

In sports, too, without concentration, one cannot achieve their goal. For example, in basketball, if the player cannot balance their attention and will, they will not be able to make the basket. The connection between the worlds is a constitutive and real matter. In spiritual practice and willpower, concentration is key. Through concentration, the seeker strengthens their soul, will, and spirit to focus on closeness and reliance on the Divine.

The relationship between the Creator and the created is far more difficult than threading a camel through the eye of a needle. It should not be assumed to be simple, and one cannot sit idly, without focus and without concentration. The continuation of this attention to God leads the seeker step by step toward their origin in existence, eventually connecting with the Divine through their concentrated efforts.

Concentration is the act of harmonizing and focusing all energies toward a single task. It is like someone gathering all their money from different accounts and pooling it together to make a purchase. If someone has small amounts of money in ten different places, they cannot buy anything by using them one by one. However, when combined, they possess the power to make a purchase. A person who has worked for months to master a skill increases their ability to concentrate in that craft until they can carry it out with one unified will from start to finish, without needing to focus on each individual step. This can only be achieved through practice. Concentration is not a theoretical lesson but requires continuous practice and effort. Laboratories in the natural sciences perform concentration similarly, but without practical experimentation, the human sciences and mysticism cannot reach any meaningful conclusions, and their concepts vanish with the pressure of death. Concentration is part of the will, and the will cannot be realized without it. A seeker who cannot perform actions with willpower and force themselves to do what is necessary cannot take even a single step toward closeness to God. Concentration is about collecting resources and opportunities and accumulating them to perform a specific task. Spiritual practice without will is motionless, and will without concentration cannot be realized. Concentration, too, is achieved through practical effort.

To achieve concentration and accumulate the necessary energy, the following guidelines should be observed:

a) Avoid multiplicity and seek solitude, removing distractions. For this, one should choose a quiet place at a fixed time, preferably dark, and maintain consistency in the location and time for the practice. The place should neither be too soft nor too hard, nor slippery. The individual should sit still, for lying down causes a loss of energy and a sense of sluggishness, while standing wastes energy and disturbs balance. Sitting on the ground provides stability and grounding, much like the significance of prostration in prayer, which involves the physical contact of seven parts with the ground.

b) Begin with simpler tasks and gradually make them more challenging.

c) Continuously check and assess your weaknesses and develop strategies to address them.

d) Follow a suitable nutrition plan based on your weaknesses and strengths. Food should not weaken the will or concentration; for example, eating heavy foods like rice and meat, which have become commonplace, may not be suitable for every seeker. The seeker must have a diet tailored to their needs.

Certain foods induce sleep, while others decrease it. Some foods stir up anger, while others make a person gentle and compassionate. Some foods remove affection from the heart and replace it with bitterness, while others lead to forgetfulness or delusions. Those who consume such foods might experience anxiety, distress, and unease in response to tragic events. Foods, like physical stimuli, also affect the mind and thoughts, and their impact should be carefully considered.

h) In reading the Holy Quran, one should pay attention to the content of the Surahs, verses, and the supplications and invocations it contains, observing their suitability to one’s current state. Someone who recites the entire Du’a al-Jawshan al-Kabir without considering the temperate qualities of the supplications is akin to someone who consumes a variety of foods without regard for their nature (hot or cold). Rather than reciting a thousand names once, the seeker should recite a single name that aligns with their state a thousand times. For spiritual gathering (Istijma‘), one must select names that are compatible with their inner state and perform the recitations accordingly. Without understanding these matters, the process of spiritual gathering will not yield results.

w) Some dervishes and ascetics, in their pursuit of spiritual gathering and the strengthening of their will, resort to the use of smoke, seeking to enter mystical realms of the lower worlds, which are not superior realms. The use of smoke is extremely harmful, and the seeker is forbidden from using any form of smoke under any circumstances, as it leads to negligence. No prophet has ever used smoke to ascend or reach a higher state. Just as someone who lacks vitality cannot consume wine to alleviate fatigue—since it brings nothing but sin, loss, and harm—spiritual practice should remain pure. The use of intoxicants or opiates only leads to deviation for both the individual and their guide. Unfortunately, some dervishes have fallen into such practices. To achieve spiritual gathering, one must follow the path taken by those who have gone before and never engage in practices that the prophets themselves avoided.

z) These exercises initially lead to contractions and expansions and cause shifts in one’s state, and they are not without difficulty and pain, which the seeker must bear.

h) The seeker should focus and concentrate the soul, eyes, heart, and all parts of the body in one direction, not allowing the gaze to wander aimlessly.

t) It is the spiritual guide who recommends the recitation of the invocation either silently or aloud, using either words or without them.

y) When the seeker engages in spiritual gathering, they must not be burdened by any tension or stress. They should seat themselves in a designated place in full awareness of their reality, disregarding any external or incidental distractions, to maintain a state of equilibrium and inner calm. They should strive to achieve a tranquil state, free from any external noise or disturbance, so that they may engage fully in this state of spiritual reflection.

Once the seeker has achieved spiritual gathering and their actions are driven by willpower, they can turn to prayer and reflection at any time and place without external hindrances. The exercises described are meant for those who have yet to develop self-discipline. These matters will be explained in greater detail under a separate principle.

Principle ( )

The Principle of Coordinating and Balancing Management

This principle extends from the principle of transformative power and states that the seeker must not only balance their inner and outer worlds, but also align both aspects harmoniously. Any spiritual practice that leads to the degradation of either the inner or outer self, or fails to maintain the balance between the two, is doomed to failure. The seeker is like an airplane attempting to take off: flight is impossible without balance. Just as yoga synchronises the body and spirit, a balance between body and soul generates the warmth, movement, and speed needed for flight, granting the individual extraordinary powers and allowing them to ascend to higher realms.

The starting point of every endeavour is absolute, and it is in the continuation that relativity manifests. The same is true in spiritual practice, where the beginning is difficult, and balance between body and soul is lacking. However, as the seeker progresses, this balance emerges, and their power increases. Until the seeker achieves harmony between body and soul, no true results can be achieved from invocations, worship, physical disciplines, or any other practices. If the seeker devotes excessive attention to acquiring knowledge, neglecting other aspects of their life, or develops unnatural inclinations, they will miss the mark and fail in their spiritual journey. This is the nature of the material world, where only that which moves in accordance with its natural course can succeed, free from deviation or extremism.

A seeker who continually engages in physical disciplines but forgets the purpose of their practice, or one who focuses solely on study without engaging in physical practice, or one who practices discipline and study but neglects family responsibilities, lacks the ability to balance their various aspects and will achieve no more than the motion of a grinding mill. Such a seeker will become entangled in their actions, with no progress in their spiritual path.

It is the nature of the world to prevent the seeker from progressing, ensnaring them in complexities that drain their ability to maintain balance. A seeker might raise one hand here and another there, but they need a thousand hands to keep all things in balance. If they focus on the branches of their life, the roots remain neglected, and if they tend to the roots, the branches wither. This is the nature of worldly distractions, where a lack of management results in futile efforts.

Just as a desire for comfort is incompatible with spiritual practice, a lack of management, especially through improper disciplines, leads only to the destruction of the inner self, physical illness, and weakness, leaving the individual incapacitated. Such imbalances bring about deep psychological wounds and prevent the seeker from becoming truly effective. This narrative encapsulates the tragic nature of the seeker’s journey in the material world—goodness and virtue are present, but the failure to manage oneself appropriately, to have the necessary awareness, or the power to manage one’s life leads to stagnation.

A seeker in pursuit of their spiritual ascent must first gain a sense of absolute freedom before they can achieve relativity, which is, after all, what leads to ultimate ascent. As the Quran says, “We have favoured some of them over others” [22].

A seeker who fails to maintain balance in their study, worship, remembrance, family relationships, leisure, and overall life, finds themselves constantly beset by negative influences. They will lack the ability to manage their inner and outer selves. If someone speaks ill of the seeker, they must forgive not for the sake of the other, but for their own peace of mind. Spiritual practice is founded on forgiveness and self-sacrifice. The inability to forgive others, and to harbour grudges or bitterness, can destroy the seeker’s journey.

Spiritual progress is impossible if the seeker’s heart remains polluted by resentment or negative emotions. If at the end of the day, the seeker still harbours ill feelings towards another, they must ask for forgiveness and cleanse their heart. Otherwise, they will only weigh themselves down with burdens. The seeker must aim to reach such a state of purity that they can forgive even their worst enemies, not because of the other, but for their own sake, so that their journey may continue unhindered.

The management of one’s life is especially challenging for those engaged in religious study. Unlike other academic disciplines or professional fields, the seeker in religious life has a far greater responsibility, and balancing the inner and outer aspects of life is far more difficult. However, a seeker who can manage both aspects—spiritual and worldly—will achieve far greater spiritual efficacy than one who retreats from the world. They are akin to a diver entering the sea, while those who avoid worldly engagement are like fish confined to a small pond. The spiritual benefits of such a seeker are profound, far-reaching, and stronger than those of others.

There have been great mystics who have attained such high spiritual stations that their lives have transcended worldly bounds. These individuals embody the highest ideals of mystical ascent, even when they have not had the opportunity to publicly manifest their knowledge or wisdom.

The principle of “Managing the Inner and Outer Self” teaches that the seeker must maintain balance in all things and avoid excess, for excess in any area leads to imbalance. This includes financial matters, where the seeker must live within their means, avoiding greed and materialism. Seeking more than necessary creates a burden that hampers spiritual progress. Everything in life—worship, physical discipline, study, and other aspects—should be pursued in moderation. If the seeker strays too far from moderation, they will lose their balance and ultimately, the results of their practices will be nullified.

The seeker must regularly evaluate themselves, identifying their inner challenges, emotional disturbances, and areas of deficiency. They must strive for purity, learning to forgive even their adversaries for the sake of their own progress. This purity and forgiveness must extend beyond others and include oneself. Through this process, the seeker advances in their spiritual path, maintaining the balance between their inner and outer worlds.

In times past, this management of the inner and outer self was easier for seekers who could retreat into seclusion. Today, however, many seekers are also responsible for societal duties and face greater challenges. Those who manage to balance their spiritual practice with worldly responsibilities are far more effective and capable than their predecessors. They are like divers in the ocean, while previous mystics remained in the confines of small ponds. If a seeker becomes absorbed in worldly power and forgets their spiritual purpose, they may find themselves overwhelmed by worldly forces. It is better, in such cases, to remain like a fish in a pond, avoiding the dangers of drowning in the ocean of worldly power.

On this path, one should not have personal conflicts with anyone, nor should they ever feel offended by others. One must endure unpleasant situations. Spiritual management teaches that knowledge, resources, body, sleep, food, and other aspects of life must be naturally balanced. Any issues or deficiencies that arise should be gradually addressed, so that proper management becomes second nature, and one applies it automatically and systematically without focusing on the rules. In this process, one should become methodical and self-aware, always striving for balance in thoughts, movements, and actions.

A person must reach a stage in their self-management where, during midnight prayers or while reciting the Holy Quran, they do not harbor concerns about others or think of their enemies. If they do, they have a spiritual problem and must first ensure that their heart is clear towards everyone. They should not view the world as vast or let its bitter events and disappointments trouble their heart. Like the bees, they should remain unfazed by external distractions and not experience hardship or ill-will from others. A true seeker, especially one under divine guidance, remains indifferent to worldly matters from an early age and does not get attached to them. Even when they study, they do not internalize it, viewing it merely as a means to an end, not for personal growth or transformation.

One should train themselves in such a way that they remain unaffected by external distractions. Otherwise, they may react in the manner described in the Quran (Surah 2:194): “And if anyone attacks you, attack him in the same manner that he attacked you.” This verse refers to warfare and is not meant for regular interactions with ordinary people, nor for those on a spiritual journey seeking to ascend in the realms of mysticism.

Managing life and maintaining balance should be applied in all aspects, including in public speaking and preaching. One must avoid repetitive or irrelevant discussions and should focus on beliefs, ethical matters, and avoid excessive political debates. A preacher should limit political discussions to what is scientifically accurate and avoid speculation. They should be well-versed in contemporary issues to avoid appearing disconnected from the world around them. Excessive political discussion is detrimental; instead, they should briefly comment on the state of society, for the public is already aware of most things through media. A preacher should focus on the positive aspects and speak of the Quran and its contemporary interpretations.

Another principle of life management and balance is avoiding excessive study. Overindulgence in study can fossilize one’s thoughts or lead them astray. The general public does not require extensive learning, as proper knowledge is scarce in books and often leads to misguidance rather than enlightenment. I recall a wealthy individual who once invited me to their home. Upon sitting down, I observed numerous ants on the carpet, carrying away dead flies. I thought to myself that this person lacks the culture of wealth. They may live in luxury, but they do not understand how to maintain it. If a house has a dead insect, it should be quickly removed; otherwise, ants and bacteria will swarm over it. This is why it is recommended to bury the dead quickly, as decay causes corruption. I reflected on how a student who lives simply on a mat is far more disciplined and clean than those with all the resources who live carelessly. I felt disturbed and suggested we dine outdoors. From there, we went to Loyzan, where I witnessed certain things that made me decline lunch, content with a simple cup of tea.

Life management also applies to sleep and food. As mentioned in previous principles, one must avoid overeating. A person who works hard needs nourishing food to sustain their energy, but it should not be excessive. I typically have a cooked breakfast and avoid cheese, butter, honey, or similar foods as they do not sustain energy for the entire day. Lunch is not part of my regular diet unless I am hosting guests. If I have no lessons, I may consume regular food, but it should align with the tasks at hand.

Another important aspect of life management is child upbringing, which should not be neglected. This should be done subtly and naturally, without the child realizing it is part of their education. One day, I was with one of my children (Javad) at home. I asked him to bring something to eat, and he brought bread and cheese with a cup of tea and hot water. I asked him why he didn’t bring tea, to which he replied that there was no more brewed tea and no dry tea left. I suggested he could have diluted the remaining tea with more hot water so we could share it. He had selflessly brought all of it for me. I praised him for his thoughtfulness and said how admirable his selflessness was. I believe such methods instill a spirit of selflessness and nobility in the soul. I gave him a thousand tomans, telling him that his tea was invaluable to me, though I could only offer him that amount in return.

Life management is delicate and has many facets. One should not allow one aspect to undermine or neutralize another. A spiritual seeker, when balancing their own resources, prepares themselves to align with God and with the Imam of the Age (may God hasten his appearance). They must accept and carry out the duties entrusted to them by the Imam without feeling overwhelmed or dissatisfied with the divine decree. For example, in the past, when the city’s water was not piped, there were pitchers in the lavatories of the Grand Mosque or Feyziyeh. One person was assigned the task of filling them with water, a job considered humble and below others. If the Imam of the Age (may God hasten his appearance) were to ask a scholar to fulfill this task, the scholar should not feel burdened but rather accept it gracefully and be thankful for the opportunity.

I once had a cell in the Feyziyeh Seminary years before the victory of the Islamic Revolution, where I taught for more than ten hours daily. During Ramadan, when lessons were suspended and students went to preach, I continued my scholarly and research work. I had a profound experience during that time, as described in my book Huzur-e-Delbaran, from which I gained such energy that I worked almost continuously for 23 hours a day. I would work from dawn to noon, then again from noon until Iftar, and after Iftar, I would work until dawn again.

A person can truly know themselves during critical moments, such as when their worldly interests or position are at risk. During these times, they may find themselves in conflict, not just with others, but potentially with the Imam of the Age. A person who is dissatisfied with the Imam’s decisions, such as feeling they deserve more recognition for their work, will likely experience internal conflicts that will also manifest in their interactions with others.

In summary, the balance between character, conduct, appearance, and inner state is crucial for a seeker. This is a multifaceted, nuanced practice, requiring constant attention to food, sleep, silence, prayer, physical activity, and spiritual work. A seeker must cultivate the ability to remain balanced in both ordinary and extraordinary circumstances, navigating crises with grace and strength. They should aspire to reach a point where their external appearance, conduct, and inner state are harmonized, allowing them to act effectively in every situation, with complete alignment to their spiritual purpose.

The Journey of the Adept: Overcoming Selfishness and Embracing Truth

Those who have attained mastery and the power of overcoming crises in their lives have undergone many challenges, eventually discovering their strength within themselves. They have gained such skill that they navigate complex paths with remarkable speed, without having to apply the brakes, lift their foot off the accelerator, or lose control of the steering wheel. In the path of spiritual practice, one must embrace the risks, willing to endure a concoction of dangers. Spiritual growth does not come from having breakfast alongside a beloved friend, reciting a prayer in a green space while maintaining one’s nap, offering soup, or holding a long prayer bead while uttering blessings.

The true adept holds a hidden remembrance within, an internal battlefield of turmoil, a restless essence that is concealed yet ever-present. Spirituality should not be noisy; discretion is its core principle. The adept is unseen, and others do not perceive him as anything extraordinary, yet his hidden battles are immense. He does not grind stones in the mill of his existence but creates powder from the mill itself. An adept can only attain mastery if his actions — walking, eating, sleeping, speaking, looking, and physical strength — are aligned with will, truth, conscience, and emotion, so that these actions, like interwoven gears, work together harmoniously. It is at this moment that the adept truly embarks on his journey, with the power to move and advance. He also embeds certain abnormalities within himself to transform them into harmony later on. However, this must be done with adherence to religious boundaries, and without the guidance of a capable spiritual teacher or a knowledgeable jurist who can synchronize these aspects, deviation will occur. Spirituality is not a path of self-medication or writing one’s own prescription; the mentor holds the first word: “Do not wander the tavern without a guide, even if you are Alexander the Great,” for Alexander may have worldly power, but it is the guide who understands the art of balance between appearance and reality, and teaches the adept the harmony of character and manner.

Principle ( )
The Transition from Self-Centeredness to Truth-Centeredness

This principle is one of the most crucial in the path of spirituality, and adhering to it is more necessary than any other principle.

The philosophy of spiritual practice is to let go of the self and abandon any form of selfishness. If an adept succumbs to selfishness, his spirituality, worship, or ascetic practices will become self-centered, and he will unwittingly commit the ultimate act of self-destruction. The foundation of spiritual practice is built upon relinquishing selfish desires. The purpose of this path is for the adept to gradually rid himself of the self and make room solely for truth in his heart and soul, abandoning self-centeredness. He renounces personal gain, refrains from arguments that seek personal benefit, and does not act in ways that serve his own interests. The adept must practice letting go of himself, not standing on his own ego. When someone makes the effort to let go of the self, God aids him and places a grain of sand in the cup of his soul to break it open.

A selfish person is always chasing his own desires and speaks of “my prayer,” “my lesson,” and countless other personal possessions. For instance, when he visits the shrine of Imam Reza (peace be upon him), he wants to pray in the most sacred area, claiming the reward for himself, as if that spot were his private property, unwilling to let others benefit from the opportunity, even if others have traveled long distances, often from hundreds of kilometers away. The adept, however, would quickly perform his prayer and leave the reward and the benefit to others, so they too can experience that sacred space. A person who always places himself above others and insists on standing in the most favorable spots is not only selfish but also exhibits inner malice.

Selfishness is not limited to material matters; even virtuous actions can become tainted by it. In the realm of worship, selfishness leads to disrespect for religion. It is through selflessness, nobility, and forgiveness towards others, especially the faithful, that divine love is revived in the heart, shining and purifying it.

Even if a selfish person intends to do good, he renders it meaningless and futile. A selfish person sees his own interests in everything, and even religion becomes a tool for serving his own purposes. When he enters a gathering and the weather is cold, he seeks the warmest spot, without regard for others, and when the weather is hot, he looks for cooling devices, never considering the needs of others. Selfish individuals never consider the rights of others when choosing good places; they always put themselves first. In contrast, ordinary people, who do not suffer from selfishness, act contrary to their own desires, without expecting anything in return. Their selflessness, though seemingly small, can open new horizons for them, and the influence of their actions far surpasses the results of years of scholarly pursuit and intellectual discussion.

A person must be so free from selfishness and ego that if he sees someone capable of doing something better than him, he becomes a means for their progress. For instance, if two seminarians are friends, one possessing creative and insightful talent capable of solving intricate religious problems, and the other lacking such abilities, the second should serve the first, providing research or material support, so that the more talented one can dedicate more time to his work. If he is not selfish or demanding, he helps the other without hesitation. As the late Sheikh Ansari (may God have mercy on him) says, a less-talented seminarian should work and earn income to support the more talented one, without protest or resentment, and without questioning, “Should I work so that the other can study?”

The greatest failures of those on the path of spirituality are rooted in selfishness, and until one becomes a seeker of truth, connecting with God, one remains selfish.

The Islamic Revolution of Iran is a clear example of the abandonment of selfishness, and indeed of the selflessness of the young believers and their devotion to God. They, guided by the teachings and directives of Imam Khomeini, sacrificed everything — their families, wealth, and lives — for the preservation of Islam and the Islamic state, and without any personal gain, they fought on the front lines and achieved victory. Their sacrifices were so profound that any fair-minded person feels immense shame in their presence, wishing the earth would open up to swallow them and spare them from such embarrassment. The actions and spirituality of the martyrs of Imam Khomeini and the Islamic Revolution represent a lofty peak, and compared to them, the asceticism of mystics and their spiritual stations seem like mere hills. Yet, some who were left behind by the caravan of martyrs or who have now risen to power in politics, no longer even deserve the slightest acknowledgment, and they seek unjust accounts from others. Some of these individuals have blended their selfishness with the principles of the revolution, justifying every action under the guise of “necessities,” while conveniently forgetting the martyr’s path and the people’s struggle.

Such individuals, who have turned their backs on the martyrs’ blood, cannot be considered true followers of the revolution or its ideals. It is essential to remember that the Islamic Revolution, which was architected by the late Imam Khomeini, is a divine gift of this age, and one must fear the day when even the slightest injustice or ill speech is held accountable before God.

Unfortunately, the danger of selfishness, even when disguised as the pursuit of personal rights, threatens scholars more than anyone else. One must purify their heart to the extent that if the religion of God were to advance through the hands of one who killed his own father, they would still shout, “Long live the religion of God!” because the truth of God is paramount, not individual desires or selfishness. A pure heart, which beats for the sake of God’s religion, can endure even the worst adversities and still breathe, just as the infallible Imams did, who even married their enemies to protect God’s religion and acted only in the service of God, disregarding their personal interests.

The mystic must become a seeker of truth, setting aside all personal desires, wishes, and egotistical interests, and making God the sole criterion of action. Mysticism and true knowledge are paths to knowing God alone, and one should never consider oneself or others in the equation. One should act only for God, as if they would not work for their own benefit, there is no reason to work for the benefit of others, as others are as equal as oneself. A true mystic does not deviate from God; if God is involved, they are ready to carry burdens or bear any task, even if others call them simple or foolish. However, when God is not involved, they remain unmoved, like a pillar, steadfast in their position.

A selfish person expects and demands from others. The mystic, however, is one who does not harbor selfishness. One of the challenges for scholars is that when they attribute certain positions to themselves, they become overly demanding. One of our colleagues once expressed concern that we were too strict, suggesting that some might donate resources to at least build a building for the institute, so we would not have to pray near the toilets. His words, though sincere and simple, reflected a lack of understanding of the situation. I told him that I personally clean the toilets myself and consider it my duty, and so, it is no great accomplishment for you to pray there, but I do it because I take pride in maintaining it. Claiming positions for oneself burdens the individual and distracts from spiritual progress.

A person who demands respect for themselves is selfish. They are always expecting something from others, and when they approach acts of selflessness or sacrifice, they try to justify their actions according to their own logic. However, in true spirituality, these principles are not negotiable or used for personal gain, and the mystic does not allow such selfish tendencies to undermine their spiritual practice.

Essence of Selflessness and Sacrifice

A seeker who possesses selflessness and sacrifice is in a state of spiritual movement and progress. Sheikh Bahā’ī has a profound verse on this subject that encapsulates its meaning:

“Until you are nothing, the path will not be granted to you; this degree will not be given to you by your lowly efforts.”

“Just as the candle burns and melts, until it does not give itself up, it will not pass on the thread of light.”

The candle burns, sheds tears, and illuminates. Its essence is not for itself; irrespective of who stands by it or what task they perform, it gives light to all. This is because its nature is generosity and selflessness. Similarly, the prophets, divine saints, and those endowed with spiritual breath (nafās) had nothing for themselves, and all they had was for others.

A seeker, when free from their ego, finds in themselves qualities such as “the possessor of spiritual breath,” “the possessor of divine grace,” “the possessor of resolve,” and “the possessor of secrets,” each reflecting a distinct level of attainment. These titles cannot be acquired from a mere school; the school can only polish these qualities but cannot create them, as we explained in the first principle of this book. The distinguishing feature of those who possess spiritual breath, resolve, and grace is that they seek nothing for themselves. The one who devours everything they see with the claws of their ego and desire has no path to mysticism.

The person with resolve and grace, as described in the Qur’an (Rabbi hab li hukman wa alhaqni bi-s-sāliḥīn), asks of God due to His greatness, not for personal reward. As the Qur’an mentions (Ya qawmi la as’alukum ‘alayhi ajra), this was a declaration that they sought no recompense for their mission from the people, just as they sought nothing from God in return for their actions.

A person of resolve is one who possesses selflessness and transcends their own existence. Such an individual is not transactional in their actions; their prayers and supplications are solely for God. They do not desire paradise, for this would be akin to a child who is delighted by a toy. Only one who asks for nothing from God may sit in His presence, as Imam Hussain demonstrated in the test of love, outshining all others in devotion. Were it not for the realm of trial, everyone would claim superiority over Imam Hussain, yet it is only through such trials that true worth is revealed.

An individual in need once came to the brother of Hatem Tai, claiming that he was not as generous as Hatem. He responded that he too gave as generously as Hatem did. The following day, the person came to Hatem’s brother’s house, receiving a loaf of bread, then returned and took another loaf. Hatem’s brother questioned him about the second loaf, to which the person replied, “Whenever I came to Hatem’s house, I received bread from forty doors, and he never said a word!”

Hatem Tai’s mother told his brother: “You cannot be as generous as Hatem because while you and Hatem are twins, when you both sought milk as children, you took the breast that your brother had in his hands, while he gave the one in his own hands to you.”

The continuous thread of mysticism is woven with the material of selflessness, not cleverness. The Qur’an emphasizes the importance of selflessness and sacrifice: (Wa yu’thirūn ‘ala anfusihim walaw kana bihim khasāsah). A person of knowledge and spiritual progress is one who places themselves in hardship and renounces what they need for the sake of others. This form of selflessness is what refines the self.

When the seeker renounces their ego, God grants them blessings and goodness without them being aware of it, for such blessings do not leave any trace behind.

God does not bestow grace upon the selfish and greedy; His grace is formed around the selflessness of the seeker.

Selflessness is the bridge between the seeker and God, and the key to reaching Him. Those who are specially favoured by God have inscribed their names in the school of selflessness. Prophet Ibrahim, despite his old age, brought his son Ismail to the altar and prepared to sacrifice him. Similarly, the Martyr of Karbala sacrificed all his children for the sake of God.

Selflessness results in the seeker acquiring resolve and grace, such that they are never judged or condemned. History does not record even a single fabricated story about the condemnation of a prophet, despite the fact that the forces of falsehood were not powerless and had skilled magicians, as Pharaoh did.

The seeker must evaluate how much breath and resolve they have and how many times they can break their hard heart, crush it, scatter its particles, and blow them away. In spiritual practice, what is important is that the individual rises from themselves. Once this is achieved, anything that God grants them becomes unimportant because they know it does not belong to them. The saints of God have never sought status or rank for themselves. Every prophet has a particular rank that should be acknowledged through divine evidence, the Qur’an, but they never sought to attain that rank for themselves. As Imam Ali described himself: “I am a servant among the servants of Muhammad”.

The seeker is one whose body is eager, their soul is content, and their entire being is filled with longing as they renounce their own existence. God assigns angels to strike them, yet the seeker remains eager with all their being, submitting solely to God. The seeker, who is broken and scattered, will have a divine wind blow upon them, ensuring that no trace remains of them. The infallible saints have endured the greatest hardships in this world, and they renounced everything. Selflessness encompasses a vast realm, and it is not something that can be confined. Even one’s honour falls within this domain. Prophet Lot once said (Qāla yā qawmi hā’ulā’i banāti hunna at-haru lakum). The selflessness of the infallible saints is indescribable. The passionate example of this can be seen only in the Prophet of Love, Imam Hussain.

Speaking of selflessness is easy, but true selflessness is accompanied by pain, separation, and agony, which tear the seeker’s soul apart. In one of my poems, I have expressed this:

“From the day of creation, I purified this heart, so pure it was,”
“I tore it apart forever, this bud now torn asunder.”

“I severed it from myself, freed it from the turmoil of the world,”
“I distanced myself from the heart, and its sorrowful face.”

“Other than my heart, I removed all that I saw,”
“Until I saw clearly before me the radiant beauty of the Beloved.”

“A pure sight was required to see You, free of any veil,”
“Who is worthy of Your beauty, to comprehend its grandeur?”

“I, a unique being, devoted myself to You, oh Beloved of my soul,”
“I sacrificed this unworthy servant to Your face, fearless.”

This poem does not say, “I purified this impure heart from the beginning,” but instead expresses, “I have purified this already pure heart from the beginning.” This raises the question: how can a pure heart be purified again? The heart was pure initially, but once it descended into the material world, it became entangled in its affairs and required spiritual cleansing. The nature of the material world is that whatever touches it becomes stained, and thus the pure heart can be purified once more. In any case, as this poem suggests, one must practice selflessness—a selflessness that is accompanied by pain, sorrow, and weariness, tearing apart the soul of the seeker.

The Principle of Divine Longing

This principle is one of the most important foundations of the mystical path, without which the path remains incomplete and unfruitful; in fact, true spirituality and nearness to God do not materialize. This principle asserts that the seeker (Sālik) in their spiritual journey must seek nothing but God, and the longing for God must be a true reality for them.

God must be a reality for the seeker, not an origin; this means that nothing can be considered as important in comparison to Him. The seeker does not wish for spirituality in order to gain power, have their prayers answered, perform the duties of worship, or take pleasure in doing so. Instead, they only wish to worship. The servant of God becomes a seeker only when they serve God without seeking anything in return. Their sole pursuit is to find closeness, love, nearness, and knowledge of God, and to fall in love with Him. They learn from their Lord, seek to resemble Him, and yearn to embody and attain His essence. Their only attachment is to God alone, and they desire to become divine, to acquire the qualities, appearance, and state of God, so much so that only God occupies their thoughts. The seeker must have this goal in mind and work diligently toward it.

A seeker who imitates divine longing will naturally become attuned to it, just as bank employees, due to their constant contact with money, become deeply familiar with it, even dreaming of it. A seeker, by imitation, embodiment, and realization of the divine, becomes so engrossed in remembering God that even outside of prayer, they are constantly reminded of Him. Their yearning for God becomes like the pain of a toothache: ever-present and relentless. They cannot be distracted from God and are immersed in a state where everything they encounter reminds them of Him. It becomes impossible for them to speak of anything without recalling God’s presence.

One of our devoted and sincere students, who passed away tragically in an accident, was described by a relative as having become so attuned to you that everything he said was somehow connected to you. It was as if he shared a common mind with you. Just as a person can reach a point where everything they say about another person is connected to that individual, the seeker can reach a stage where everything they say is about God, and even more so, every word becomes not only about God but also for God. It is like someone who has sold their only asset, their house, and intends to take the proceeds elsewhere, guarding the money vigilantly, unable to let their guard down for a moment. In the same way, the seeker of God must guard their longing for God, never allowing themselves to be distracted from this pursuit. If someone speaks of anything other than God, they remain oblivious, because their love for God is so deep that they share a connection with Him in their speech and action.

The seeker works, moves, eats, and does everything out of love for God. Everything they do feels as though part of it is connected to God. They become as one with God, just as two lovers, deeply attached to one another, would say their souls are intertwined. The seeker must not let the remembrance of God slip from their being, even for a moment, not for selfish or self-serving reasons, but solely for God. As the poet says:

“Do not be heedless of the King for a single moment, perhaps He may glance at you while you are unaware.”

The seeker must see nothing but God and view everything else in relation to God. Nothing else should be independent of God. The seeker must love God, but more than that, they must desire God for God’s own sake and not for healing, for answered prayers, or for any worldly benefit. The seeker must run to God from God, seeing God in every aspect of their thoughts, words, and actions. The seeker must perceive God first and last, just as God is the first and the last. Everything they experience must be infused with the divine, not compartmentalized between the worldly and the spiritual.

They must find union with God to such a degree that they cannot be separated from Him. Wherever they go, everything pulls them toward God. This is the ultimate state of spiritual perfection, where no further perfection is necessary, though naming it as perfection might be a misinterpretation. The seeker, united with God, reaches everything that belongs to God without seeking it; they are like two friends sharing everything in common, indistinguishable in their possessions. If God is with the seeker, then there is no difference between God’s possessions and the seeker’s possessions, and the seeker no longer feels the need to acquire anything separate for themselves. They are free from any selfish desire and seek nothing from God except to remain with Him.

The seeker who is truly with God, having renounced all personal desires, does not wish to become anything for their own sake. They live in the presence of God, but without any expectation or desire from Him. They reach a point where they no longer ask God for anything, because they neither want anything nor wish to accomplish anything by their own effort. They simply follow the path that God lays before them, walking in it with divine steps. They see God not as an origin but as a reality, and they consider themselves entirely secondary. In their journey, they neither engage in theft nor begging; if anything arises along the way, it is not sought by them but rather appears on its own. The important thing is that this understanding sinks deeply into their heart, for without it, mere intellectual reflection amounts to little more than debate with one’s own self.

The seeker experiences a deep pain from the separation from God, feeling it in the very fibers of their being. God is their beginning and end, both outwardly and inwardly, and everything revolves around Him. Such a seeker carries God with them like a headache—never forgetting God for even a moment—and continually strives to ascend to the peak of divine truth. The seeker’s character transforms; love weaves through every fiber of their being, shaping them into a kind, compassionate soul. Anyone who lacks such love for God and His servants cannot be considered a true seeker on the path of God.

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منو جستجو پیام روز: آهنگ تصویر غزل تازه‌ها
منو
مفهوم غفلت و بازتعریف آن غفلت، به مثابه پرده‌ای تاریک بر قلب و ذهن انسان، ریشه اصلی کاستی‌های اوست. برخلاف تعریف سنتی که غفلت را به ترک عبادت یا گناه محدود می‌کند، غفلت در معنای اصیل خود، بی‌توجهی به اقتدار الهی و عظمت عالم است. این غفلت، همانند سایه‌ای سنگین، انسان را از درک حقایق غیبی و معرفت الهی محروم می‌سازد.

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