States, Stations, Stages, and Practice
To borrow a phrase from fractal mathematics,
the Sufi path tends to be ‘self-similar’, rather
than ‘self-same’, when considering the experience
of different individuals. In other words, since
every human being is unique, even while sharing
in the general set of properties which differentiate
human beings from other species of being, and since
the tajalli of Divinity (the descent or rupture of Divine
modalities into manifested form) do not repeat themselves
in any self-same manner, one cannot necessarily speak
of suluk, or spiritual travel, as consisting of a
linear sequence of states (hal) and stations (maqam).
Different individuals have outlined the path in
varied ways which reflects their own experience of
suluk rather than necessarily reflecting some set
of hard and fast steps which must be taken in a
‘just so’ order. Thus, some people say the Sufi path
consists of ‘x’ number of states and ‘y’ number
of stations, while other commentators say that
tasawwuf entails ‘r’ number of states, and ‘t’
number of stations.
In addition, there are, sometimes, disagreements
about whether a certain stage of spiritual travel
involves a hal or a maqam. Again, such variation
in opinion are more indicative of the differences
which people bring with them to the path than
they are necessarily reflective of ‘truths’ independent
of human engagement of reality.
Generally speaking, a hal is characterized as a temporary
spiritual condition in relation to which intentional effort
of striving has not been expended or directed, and, therefore,
comes as a gift of Divinity. Maqam, or station, on the other
hand, is often characterized as more permanent than are
hal, and, as well, are said to be spiritual conditions for which
struggle and striving must be exerted in a concerned manner. As
such, maqam tend to be described as spiritual conditions
which must be earned, while hal are not earned, per se.
However, since spiritual effort does not cause spiritual progress,
but is, at best, a necessary condition, then, whether one is talking
about states or stations, these are both gifts of God and could
not be experienced or sustained without Divine succor. Moreover,
although there are instances in which individuals who are not
on any particular spiritual path are recipients of Divine Grace
in the form of this or that manner of hal, the likelihood of
undergoing one or another spiritual hal tends to be increased
when one is actively and sincerely pursuing the mystical
path under the guidance and care of an authentic shaykh.
Yet, one might keep in mind that the Qur’an stipulates:
“If Allah were to take humankind to task for their wrong-doing,
God would not leave hereon a living creature, but God
reprieves them to an appointed term.” (16:61) So, whether
one is talking about hal or maqam, neither is deserved but
comes by the Grace of Allah.
Finally, some expressions of hal are longer lived than are
other manifestations of hal. Therefore, whether one
believes one is talking about a condition of hal rather
than maqam may be somewhat arbitrarily decided.
Spiritual conditions share some of the same qualities as
dreams. This is especially so in the sense that both dreams
and spiritual conditions require the presence of insight by
an experienced guide or knowledgeable and Divinely supported
individual in order to properly appreciate the nature of
what is transpiring through either the dream or a given
spiritual condition.
Najm al-Din Razi (may Allah be pleased with him), in his
book: The Path of God’s Bondsmen from Origin to Return
uses the example of fire to illustrate the complexity of the problem.
Someone who is traversingthe path of tasawwuf may see the attribute
of fire and, depending on the nature of one’s spiritual condition, this
attribute will have a different meaning in different states
and stations.
For some, the appearance of fire is an indication that the
quality of anger is dominant. For others, the presence of
fire may signify the light of zikr or the individual’s ardor
for the spiritual quest. For still others, the fire may
exemplify the presence of guidance as with the Prophet
Moses (peace be upon him), or it may give expression
to the quality of devilry as with Iblis. And, for still other
individuals, the quality of fire may symbolize the
condition of gnosis or love or witnessing. There also
are additional modalities of fire which indicate the
presence of other manner of states and stations.
The attribute of fire is but one of many, many qualities
which may emerge within an individual’s experience
and serve as a tell-tale sign of a person’s spiritual
condition. However, as with dreams, insight is needed
to understand the significance of the presence of a
given quality.
Similarly, when an individual passes through stations
involving the attributes of clay, water, air, fire, firmaments,
heavenly bodies, the malakut (or soul) of the planets
and the stars, animals, and a thousand other realms,
different kinds of tajalli may be manifested according
to circumstances and an individual’s spiritual condition.
Just as there is no reliable book of dream interpretation
in which all one has to do is scour the index for a
given dream and, then, proceed to the page with ‘the’
correct interpretation, so, to, there is no standard dictionary
of spiritual states and stations which always are manifested
in the same way across individual experiences.
I recall, once, when my shaykh, Dr. Baig (may Allah be pleased
with him), talked about such matters. He indicated that in very
special cases - and he referred to such instances as being among the
most supreme of spiritual conditions - an individual
may traverse the journey of suluk and not have even one
‘mystical’ or anomalous, non-ordinary experience. These
are individuals from whom God has kept secret the
nature of their own spiritual condition.
Many people speak about the alleged great differences
between, say, the doctrine of Wahdat-i-Shuhud (the
Unity or Oneness of Witnessing) and Wahdat-i-Wujud
(the Unity or Oneness of Being). In fact, great
controversies have been instigated on the basis of
such differences of approach to the hermeneutics
of experience, and, yet, again, I remember that my
shaykh, Dr. Baig (may Allah be pleased with him), said
that after all was said and done, there really wasn’t
much difference between the two.
I might add a brief note at this point to indicate
that Dr. Baig (may Allah be pleased with him) wrote
his doctoral dissertation on the life and teachings of
Ahmad Sirhindi (may Allah be pleased with him). The
latter shaykh was a champion of the doctrine of
Wahdat-i-Shuhud. One of the examiners for
Dr. Baig's (may Allah be pleased with him) thesis
was no less an authority than A.J. Arberry who
considered the thesis to be the best exposition of the
Sufi path to be written in the English language up to
that time.
Following many of his forty day seclusions, Dr. Baig
(may Allah be pleased with him) would set about
revising and improving his thesis on the basis of
what had been experienced and disclosed during the
previous period of seclusion. In many ways this
was a life-long project for him which never saw the
light of day - that is, it was never released to either
the general public or even to his mureeds.
Among other things, the process of constant revision
in the light of subsequent experience is a hallmark of
the path. This process of needing to continuously
revise one's understanding represents one of
the reasons why one should refrain from speaking
about the path as if it were a static thing in which
one can sum up its components in some simple,
linear fashion.
When I first stepped onto the path, more than 30
years ago, I must confess that my head was filled,
to a certain extent, with ideas of ‘wondrous deeds,
powers, exalted, non-ordinary states of consciousness,
and other such artifacts of ignorance. Dr. Baig (may
Allah be pleased with him) had an interesting way of
dealing with such nonsense.
To those who came to the path from a very conceptually-
laden direction - treating the Sufi Path as if it were just
another species of philosophy about which one could
read, learn, and debate - Dr. Baig (may Allah be pleased
with him) would assign some treatise of one, or another,
Sufi Shaykh which was of such a difficult nature that the
individual would soon come to the realization that he or
she didn’t really know much of anything, irrespective of how
much they had read. To others, such as myself, whose
heads were preoccupied with other-worldly states and
stations, he would assign the book Introduction to Islam
by Dr. Muhammad Hamidullah (may Allah be pleased with
him) which was quite excellent, but very down-to-earth, dry,
and rooted in practicality.
Many people are familiar with the following prayer of
Ra’bia of Basra (may Allah be pleased with her). “O Lord,
if I worship Thee out of desire of Paradise, then, deny
me Paradise, and if I worship Thee out of fear of Hell, then,
throw me into Hell, but if I worship Thee out of love for
Thee and Thee alone, then, grant me Thy vision.”
Without wishing to criticize this great saint - because I
really am not fit to carry her sandles (if she had any) -
nevertheless, I do have a question. Why make the last
part of the prayer conditional?
Is not Divinity present in the state and/or station of
sincere love? Is not Divinity present in every aspect of
experience, and, indeed, experience is not possible
without giving expression to the underlying play of
Divine Names and Attributes which makes such
experiences possible and provides them with their
structural character?
The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) is reported
to have said: “This world is prohibited to the people of the
next world, and the next world is forbidden to the people
of this world, and they are both forbidden to the people
of Allah.”
Seekers are seeking what? They are seeking something
beyond what they believe to be present, and, yet, what
they are actually seeking - as a poem of Hazrat Muin-ud-deen
Chishti (May Allah be pleased with him) points out - is with
us night and day ... hiding in plain sight. And, yet, we go
seeking - from horizon to horizon - for what is already
present.
Instead of seeing Divinity, we see veils. The veils, of
course, mark the presence of Divinity, as well, but we
want an unveiled look at Divinity, when, in truth, we
can only see what God has given us the capacity to
see at any given time or instance.
All practices - from: shahadah, to: prayers, zikr,
fasting, seclusion, fatiha, hajj, contemplation, meditation,
sacred turning, various forms of charitableness,
service to the shaykh, and the performance of good deeds
- have one thing in common: namely, the realization and
expression of truth. Each kind of practice engages the
truth, reality, Haqq from the perspective of its own
form and character.
When we exclude practices, then, we cut ourselves off
from ways of engaging different facets and dimensions
of the truth. As one friend of Allah said, ‘there are many
keys to spiritual realization, if one key does not work,
then, try another’ - and one might add, if it is not already
implicit in what was said, one should not just try a given
key once but on many different occasions, because one
never knows when all the tumblers will fall into place
and be receptive to the use of a given key.
Similarly, each state and station serves as a locus of
manifestation for the kind of truth to which such a
state or station gives expression. The truth of expansion
is not the truth of contraction. The truth of patience is
not the truth of repentance. The truth of longing is
not the truth of arrival. The truth of love is not the
truth of dependence. The truth of difficulty is not
the truth of ease. The truth of chastisement is not
the truth of ascension.
Yet, when one weaves together all of these different
modalities of truth in the form of experiential tajalli,
then, an individual approaches the fullness of truth
as a limit, and in mathematics, as in life, a limit
is a function which approaches more and more
closely to a given point, without ever reaching
that point except, theoretically, at infinity. However,
in the latter case, the Qur’an has something of
relevance to say here: “and over every lord of
knowledge, there is one more knowing.” (12:76)
The truth - reality - cannot be exhausted. It is infinite,
and, consequently, there are no set of stages, states,
or conditions which can encompass the infinite.
We engage truth according to our essential capacity, fitra,
or ‘ayn al-thabita. We engage truth according to the
condition of being veiled which constitutes our
spiritual condition and degree to which our spiritual
potential has been realized.
Different individuals have different capacities. The
spiritual capacity of the Prophets is not the spiritual capacity
of non-Prophetic saints, and the spiritual capacity of ordinary
believers is not the spiritual capacity of the saints, whether
Prophets or other manner of awliya. Moreover, within these
different categories of human beings, there are gradations -
as indicated in the Qur’an: “We have made some of these
prophets to excel others” (17:55) and, “We raise by grades
(of Mercy) whom We will.” (12:76)
Mind, heart, sirr, ruh, kafi, and aqhfah are potentials of
fitra. Consequently, these potentials cannot exceed their
limits.
On one occasion, the son of Ahmad Sirhindi (may Allah
be pleased with him) came to the shaykh and presented
something of a conundrum to the shaykh. The young
man indicated that he had an experience in which he
seemed to rise higher than the station of the Prophets, and,
since this contradicted what was understood to be possible,
the young man was confused by the experience.
Ahmad Sirhindi (may Allah be pleased with him) resolved
the problem in the following manner. He said that associated
with every human being, there are two points - one marking
the station of origin and the other marking the station of
ascension.
He further indicated that, on occasion, the ascension of a
non-Prophet might rise higher than the station of origin
of a Prophet. However, in no case would the station of
ascension of a non-Prophet ever rise higher or approach
the station of ascension of a Prophet of God.
Thus, for each of us, the station of origin and the station
of ascension are fixed within the degrees of freedom which
are permitted by Divinity. Consequently, the ways in which
mind, heart, sirr, kafi, ruh, and aqfah are given expression
depends on the character of the fitra or fixed form in question.
Some people define heart, mind, spirit, and soul in ways
which are all-inclusive. In other words, for such people,
the heart constitutes our entire potential for realizing
the truth, and, then, they proceed to describe different
stages, states and stations of the heart which outline
the path to ultimate realization - such as: (a) breast,
(b) qalb, (c) the aspect of the heart which is preoccupied
with the love of human kind; (d) fo’ad (the seat of vision),
(e) the dimension of the heart which gives expression to
an exclusive love for Divinity; (f) the core of the heart
which involves spiritual kashf or unveiling concerning
the realms of the unseen about which angels have no
knowledge; and, finally, (g) mohjat al-qalb which,
when realized, gives expression to the lights of
Divine attributes.
Other people do this in conjunction with the nafs. For
example, people speak in terms of: (1) nafs-i-ammara
(the soul which commands to evil); (2) nafs-i-mulhameh
(the soul which is inspired by God with knowledge of
lewdness and God-fearing; (3) nafs-i-lawwama ( the
reproachful soul); (4) nafs-i-mutma’inneh (the tranquil
soul); (5) nafs-i-radiya (the contented soul in which
God is well pleased with them, and they are well-pleased
with God); and, (6) nafs-i-safiya, the pure soul.
Others talk about the attributes of the spirit:
(1) luminosity (with its branches of hearing, speech,
and vision); (2) love (with its branches of sincerity,
yearning and seeking); (3) knowledge (with its
branches of will and cognition); (4) forbearance (with
its branches of modesty, tranquility, dignity, and
endurance); (5) familiarity or uns (which gives
expression to a primordial intimacy with one’s
Creator and encompasses the branches of
compassion and pity);(6) permanence or baqa
(with its branches of persistence and steadfastness);
and, finally, (7) life (with its branches of intelligence
and understanding).
However one parses human nature - and, therefore,
irrespective of where in one’s theoretical typography
one locates such faculties as mind, heart, sirr, ruh,
kafi, and aqfah - there have been different practices
which have been recommended by shaykhs down
through the ages as aides to drawing out the potential
of such faculties. For example, the practice of zikr is
often mentioned in conjunction with the qualities of
the heart - as the Prophet Muhammad (peace be
upon him) is reported to have said: “There is a polish
for everything which takes away the rust of that
which is polished, and the polish for the heart is
the remembrance (zikr) of God.”
Nevertheless, there are many forms of zikr, and
different shaykhs go about this in different ways.
Zikrs vary in length, content, whether they are
open-ended (said as many times as one likes),
or closed-ended), said aloud or quietly, as well
as the time of day and circumstances in which
they are said.
Moreover, the nature of zikr may not be
encapsulated within a certain Quranic formula.
In other words, since every event is a word
in the lexicon of the All Merciful which is
Self-referential, there are many ways of doing
remembrance which are not necessarily tied
to the saying of phrase or ayat from the Qur'an.
Furthermore, some may suppose one can remove a
zikr from the context of its spiritual ecology and the
zikr will continue to operate with the same efficacy
as is the case when that zikr is recited within the
context of a specific spiritual ecology - that is, having a
relationship with an authentic shaykh in a given
silsilah. This is not necessarily so, and one proceeds
at one’s own risk.
Another practice is that of muraqabah. This is
described, alternatively, as a careful watching
of, or over, of the condition of the heart or as an
emptying out of the sirr which, when the latter is
operating properly, is said to guard the heart
from being receptive to any influences which
are other than the remembrance of God.
Alternatively, there is the process of fana in
which - seemingly sequentially, but, in reality,
these are all different variations on the same theme
- one ‘passes away’ in a loving awareness of one’s
shaykh, the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him),
and, ultimately, Divinity. There is no one way or
no one set of steps which leads to the evaporation of
self (small-s)-awareness.
Ahmad Sirhindi (may Allah be pleased with him)
described the process of fana in the following way.
If one is outside at night on a clear evening and
far from the lights of a city, one can see the stars
very clearly. But, when the sun rises, the starts
are no longer visible to the naked eye due to the
over-powering radiance of the sun.
Similarly, when something of the reality of one’s shaykh,
the Prophet, or Divinity rises in one’s consciousness,
then, awareness of the self disappears. Yet, the self
still exists just as the stars continue to exist despite
being rendered invisible by the presence of the sun.
There are many ways to help an individual to struggle
toward fana. There are many ways to induce an individual
to remember Allah. There are many ways to assist a
person to empty the sirr of all other influences other
than Allah and to keep a close watch on the condition
of the heart. There are many ways to illumine the heart.
There are many ways to traverse the stations of repentance,
longing, dependence, sincerity, gratitude, patience, piety,
and love.
How does one clean and furnish a house? One uses whatever
works as long as such means fall within the code book for
permissible house cleaning practices, and as long as the
method of equipping the house takes into account the
structural limitations of that house .
Similarly, there is no set recipe for spiritual realization,
although there are a variety of general guidelines which
are intended to be used in flexible ways within variable
contexts. Everything depends on the nisbath or relationship
between an authentic shaykh and the seeker.
Whatever is given, whatever is undertaken, the purpose is
always to provide one with another opportunity to engage
the Real and to revise one’s understanding of the True
and to act in accordance with what one knows on the
basis of what has been disclosed to one through direct
experience. There are many ways, God willing, of helping
to transform the nafs, or purify the heart, or illumine the
spirit. These ways are overlapping, reinforcing and not
mutually exclusive in the sense that, for instance, what
helps the heart, helps the nafs to transform, and the
spirit to be enlivened, and, similarly, what transforms
the nafs also has benefits for the heart and spirit, and
so on.
Ultimately, the only thing which really matters is the
presence of Divine Grace. Talk of methodology, states,
stations and stages have their place, but one should
never confuse the surface phenomenon for the Realities
which make such contingencies possible.
One follows the teachings and practices of a shaykh because,
God willing, these have the capacity to help open us up to the
barakah which courses through these practices and teachings
as extensions of the presence and support of a silsilah
rooted in the Prophetic tradition. These practices and teachings
are the excuses which Divinity uses to extend different kinds of
blessings to us, and through these blessings our understanding
and behavior are affected.
Once, back in my days of even greater ignorance, I happened
into a store in a rural area and, along with some friends, got
an ice cream cone - one which was hand-scooped by one of
the employees of the store. The ice cream cone I got was
enormous, and I muttered words to the effect of: “Boy, I’ll
have to remember this place.” The person behind the counter
responded with: “You should remember the person who gave
you the cone.”
Many people think aboutf the Sufi path as a supply depot from
which one can acquire whatever one needs in the way of
teachings, practices, and format in order to be able to make
progress on the spiritual path. In truth, as with the ice cream
story above, one needs to remember the person through whom
one gets whatever one gets for it is the person who, by the Grace
of Allah, makes all the difference ... not the place.
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