Your Relationship with Yourself - The Month of Ramadan | Shaykh Yasir Fahmy

Opening & Introduction

بِسْمِ اللَّهِ الحَمْدُ لِلَّهِ وَالصَّلَاةُ وَالسَّلَامُ عَلَى رَسُولِ اللَّهِ وَعَلَى آلِهِ وَصَحْبِهِ وَنَبِيِّهِ وَلَا حَوْلَ وَلَا قُوَّةَ إِلَّا بِاللَّهِ الْعَلِيِّ الْعَظِيمِ. اللَّهُمَّ صَلِّ وَسَلِّمْ وَبَارِكْ عَلَى سَيِّدِنَا مُحَمَّدٍ الْأَوَّلِينَ، وَصَلِّ وَسَلِّمْ وَبَارِكْ عَلَى سَيِّدِنَا مُحَمَّدٍ الْآخِرِينَ، وَصَلِّ وَسَلِّمْ وَبَارِكْ عَلَى سَيِّدِنَا مُحَمَّدٍ صَلَّى اللَّهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ الْمَلَايِينِ أَعْلَى إِلَى يَوْمِ الدِّينِ.

JazakumAllah khair for having me in your beautiful community. MashaAllah, this is a beautiful space. I always like traveling the country and seeing beautiful masajid with beautiful spaces that are thoughtfully done. I love the designs. I love a heritage, a hearkening back to our architectural heritage — it is something that's very near and dear to my heart. So I just want to praise that.

Sometimes I go to communities, they spend a lot of money, but it's as if they've never traveled to Turkey or Morocco or Syria. May Allah bless the lands of Syria and protect them. Alhamdulillah, may Allah bless you for that.

The second thing is, I'm not sure I'm going to have to follow the comedy duo of the Waheed brothers. I didn't realize — you know, I'm of Egyptian heritage, we're kind of known for comedy. But these guys are on a different level. MashaAllah, BarakAllahu feekum. May Allah bless them.

MashaAllah, they're doing amazing work. These guys are taking over the country by storm. The Miftah Institute, MashaAllah, is really spreading so much khair. They are mafateehul khair, maghaliqul sharr — they are keys for a lot of goodness in this country. The spirit with which they bring da'wah into the public sphere, connecting the hearts and minds, bringing du'as from all walks of life together. Allah has put barakah in these brothers to serve Allah in this way, MashaAllah, in such a short period of time. In a few years, bi fadlillahi ta'ala, so much khair has come through them. So make du'a for them.

Don't ever, when you see khair — اللَّهُ سُبْحَانَهُ وَتَعَالَى يُجْرِي عَلَى أَيْدِي النَّاسِ الخَيْرَ — say alhamdulillah wa shukrulillah. Allah runs goodness through the hands of people.

Fasting as a Gateway to Purifying the Self

I was asked to speak about fasting as a gateway to the purifying of the self. And that is, subhanAllah, the most synonymous reality when we think about fasting. Allah said:

Allah has prescribed upon you — He has written for you as a prescription, a prescription that you don't have the choice to refuse, an obligation you have to fulfill. You know when the doctor tells you, you have to take this medication or else? Allah is saying: I have prescribed for you this reality of the soul, so that you may attain taqwa, that consciousness.

What Does "Sawm" Actually Mean?

Now we just say "fasting." When we think about it, our mind automatically defaults to the ritual act of worship from before sun-up till sunset. That's our mindset default — it's a fast. It's an act that we do. We go tell our neighbors and our co-workers and our classmates, "Hey, we're fasting Ramadan." And then they ask, "Oh so what's Ramadan?" We say, "We fast from this time to that time." And the first thing they ask is, "Not even a sip?" Everyone's experienced that — "Not even a sip?" And then their natural response is to say, "Oh, that's impossible. I could never do that." And then we say, subhanAllah, but there are 1.8 billion Muslims across the world who, in less than a few days, are all going to be fasting.

And what's interesting about the Muslim community is that a Muslim may not pray, but they'll definitely fast. We'll talk about that inshAllah.

But what does sawm actually mean, literally? It means to stop. The Arab, when they would want to describe the howling winds that have stopped, they would use the word sawm. Think about that — when you've experienced strong winds, howling winds, it's a very unsettling experience. Strong winds in a plane are very unsettling. Strong winds while driving are unsettling. If you're sitting at home by the window watching the trees swing back and forth — it's a very unsettling experience. But when it stops, and that peace and that serenity overtakes, what happens? You become very relaxed.

Allah is prescribing for us to stop. That's what Allah is effectively telling us He wants us to do. Stop. Because what happens to us as human beings — because of the nature of the dunya, and the dunya is deceptive and it's very consuming, and there is fitna in it — in goodness and in bad, there is fitna. It's a distraction. It's very fast-paced, very intense. It could easily overtake you.

The Spiritual Anatomy of the Human Being

A relationship that you're having with your child, or spouse, or a family member — that has been utterly consuming you not for a year or two years, but for decades on end. We all have our beloved aunties and uncles who MashaAllah tell us about the same story that happened to them 40 years ago with a particular sibling or relative. "I'll never forget what they said to me. I'll never forget what they did to me." And we hold on to those grudges, and they are overwhelming. Work, money, income, accomplishments, career advancement — very consuming, very deceiving. Takes our hearts.

Because Allah endowed us with a spiritual anatomy. There's an anatomy that we have. We have the physical anatomy, but we also have a spiritual anatomy. We have the aql — a rational mind. We have the qalb — a heart, a spiritual heart. We have the nafs — the self. We have the ruh — the spirit. And that vibrant, intricate anatomy that Allah bestowed within the spiritual apparatus of the human being is what makes you you. It's at your essence, your core.

When you look at someone, you see a Khadija, you see an Ahmed, you see a Muhammad — forget about the accidental physiological qualities. We're talking about the essence of this person. Their smile, their expressions, their mood, their akhlaq, their attitude, their spiritedness, their jovialness. How they make you feel, how they speak. That's the essence of this person. All of that is emanating from where? From your spiritual apparatus.

So what tends to happen in the dunya is that that very sophisticated apparatus becomes consumed in stuff — in material things, in belongings, in relationships. We are distracted all the time by two realities: one within, one without. النَّفْسُ الأَمَّارَةُ and Shaytan. Both of them trying to do everything in their power to make sure you never think about Allah, that you never center Allah, that Allah is not a priority. Religiosity in practice is relegated to a secondary role.

You know, religion is something on the side. Something you do when you have time. The Arabs say, شُوفْ مَصْلَحَتَكْ — watch your welfare. شُوفْ مُسْتَقْبَلَكْ — watch your future. That means get a good job, make a lot of money.

Being in a position to have access to good financial means is one of the asbab of this dunya. But is that in any way, shape, or form your mustaqbal? Absolutely not. Is that your maslaha, your absolute welfare? Absolutely not. Because all the people who have financial means will tell you — it's just something that makes life a little bit more convenient, but it doesn't bring happiness. It doesn't bring relief. It doesn't bring health. And people can have all the money in the world but they're miserable, sad, lonely, agonizing — imprisoned within beautiful homes but feeling like they're in a prison.

Why is that the case? It all comes back to our lack of cognition and awareness of the negative and evil forces that actually exist and are embedded within each and every single one of our realities. And that is this النَّفْسُ الأَمَّارَةُ — this self within us that is constantly imploring us towards evil, constantly impressing upon us to indulge.

The Three Types of the Lower Nafs

Like Imam Al-Ghazali, when he talks about the types of nafs — the nafs that is bahimi, the nafs that is cattle-like, like a cow. What does a cow do? Grazes all day, copulates, and uses the bathroom. That's what a bahimi nafs does. That's one of the ways in which the lower nafs implores you to be like a bahimi, like cattle.

And then the other type of nafs is sab'i — the nafs within us that is very covetous, destructive, likes to harm, vindictive, always looking for vengeance. "You wrong me, watch what I'm going to do to you. I'm going to destroy your life. I'm going to show you al-wayl. I'm going to tear you apart." Threats — very self-confident. That's all sab'i nafs raging from within.

And then there's the shaytani nafs — the iblisi nafs. What is Iblis? Iblis is mal'un, first and foremost super self-absorbed. This is Iblis. Iblis is the most self-absorbed creature ever created — so much so that he's willing to go to battle with Allah. Allah is telling him, "Do this." He says, "No." Why? "I'm better than that."

You know someone who was unapologetically himself? Iblis. Because today, what do they tell you in the public sphere? "Be your unapologetic self." Iblis was his unapologetic self. Never be your unapologetic self — a'udhu billah from that. Do you know what it means to be your unapologetic self? That means for me to be the center of existence, to have a perception of myself that is thoroughly narcissistic and aggrandized. "Everything about me is special. Why? Because I am me, and me is special." That's iblisi, by the way.

Because of where I come from, because of the color of my skin, because of my status, because of my accomplishments, because of the car that I drive — me, me, me. Because of my desires, my interests, my perceptions of what is good and bad, what is right and wrong, what is reasonable and not reasonable. That's all iblisi nafs.

That's why in this culture of ours — think of Sprite's old tagline: "Obey your thirst." I say to you: your nafs is your worst enemy. أَعْدَى عَدُوِّكَ النَّفْسُ الَّتِي بَيْنَ جَنْبَيْكَ — your worst enemy is the self within you. It does not want good for you. It is leading us to either being like cows, or dogs, or satanic in our disposition.

The Mihrab: The Place of War

So we have to gear up for serious warfare against ourselves, and we also have to gear up for serious warfare with an enemy without — which is Shaytan. That's why the mihrab is called mihrab for a reason. Mihrab in Arabic morphology is ism makan — مِحْرَاب، أَيْ مَكَانُ الحَرْبِ — the place of war. Who are you going to war with? Shaytan. Your nafs. There is proactive warfare. That's why أَعْظَمُ الجِهَادِ جِهَادُ النَّفْسِ — the most daunting, profound, and majestic form of virtuous struggle is the struggle against the self.

Siyam: The Quintessential Ibadah

So what's the relevance of all of this with siyam? Siyam is the quintessential ibadah that Allah has so generously and beautifully designated for us and prescribed for us as the number one remedy and pathway for us to be liberated from our nafs. It's the pathway to do that.

And that's why in a very beautiful hadith qudsi, Allah tells us that the actions of the son of Adam all have an apportioned reward associated with them. Zakah has a reward. Salah has an apportioned reward — either one hasanah, ten hasanah, إِلَى سَبْعِمِائَةِ ضِعْفٍ, up to 700 times.

Allah says: everything of virtue that you do, there is an apportioned reward for it — except for fasting. That's Mine, and I reward accordingly.

Why? Why does Allah keep siyam for Himself? Of course, all of the ibadah are for the sake of Allah. But why does Allah have a special affinity for this act of worship, this particular color of devotion? He tells us in another hadith where He speaks to the angels — يُبَاهِي بِهِمُ المَلَائِكَةَ — He boasts about us to the angels.

None of us think we could ever be angelic beings. Most of the time we think we're really poor Muslims — that we're bad Muslims, not living up to par, failing in our Islam, falling short. That's regularly the talk track that many of us have. But Allah boasts about us to the angels.

(Sunan Ibn Majah, Hadith 1638; similar narration in Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 1894)

Allah says to the angels: Look at My servants. They have left their desires, their drink, their food — for My sake. My servants — look at them!

All of us — we're just humble nobodies, all of us. We're insignificant. I know in our culture you're told you're "special," but none of us are special. We're insignificant. If all of us were not here, it wouldn't make a difference for existence. We leave existence, it's not going to make a difference for existence, because it's all about Allah.

Allah does not need us. We are so in dire need of Allah's rahmah, His mercy, His compassion, His kindness, His qurba — that closeness we can have with Him. We are the ones in need. We need Allah to support us, to aid us, to give us victory, to protect us, to heal us, to guide us. دَائِمًا فِي احْتِيَاجٍ — we're always in need. مَسَاكِينُ، فُقَرَاءُ — that's our true identity. We're impoverished. نَحْنُ فِي قَبْضَتِهِ يُقَلِّبُنَا كَيْفَ يَشَاءُ — we are in the constriction of Allah. He alters us and shifts us as He sees fit.

The Paranoia of the Fasting Person

But when we, as these humble servants, express to Allah our devotion, and we say — we commit ourselves to preferring Him over ourselves. We prefer His will, His command, His desire, His mashi'a over our own.

The most visceral thing that we have is a need to drink — we can't actually survive for long periods of time without it. But we relinquish that. We forego that need. For whom? For Allah.

Everyone here has fasted before, right? I'll give you a scenario. When you're in Ramadan, in the bathroom, and you put some water in your mouth to rinse — how obsessive are we about spitting out every last drop of water in our mouth? Don't we sit there going... don't we do that? Sometimes we even take a towel and pat our mouth down just to make sure there are no remnants. All of you attest to that? Why do we do that? Isn't that pretty amazing?

To me that is an ayah min ayatillah. Because our status quo is not that disciplined. We like a lot of rahat, a lot of relief, a lot of relaxation, a lot of indulgence, a lot of pleasure. We'll watch until we're blue in the face. We'll eat until we can't eat anymore. But then suddenly, we are paranoid about a drop of water in our mouth. Why? For whom? For Allah. Say Allahu Akbar. Because that is an ayah min ayatillah.

Allah Does Not Want to Inconvenience Us

Allah does not prescribe the fast for us in any way, shape or form because He's trying to inconvenience us, bother us, or mess up our routine. You know, we sometimes fall into a semi-negative talk track because we think: "How am I going to manage? I have all this big dunya stuff I'm doing. Now I'm going to have to incorporate this ukhrawi stuff on top." And I'm not saying they're mutually exclusive — because they're not. But that's usually how the calculus goes: "This is going to hinder my ability to perform X, Y, and Z. How am I going to go to tarawih, get home by 11 o'clock midnight, have to wake up for suhoor, and still perform the next day?"

How many of you have done that in previous Ramadans and did not end up dying? Everyone can attest to having had a rigorous schedule — going to the hospital, the office, your business, taking children to school, working around the clock, sleeping very few hours — and at the end of it all, what did you feel? Utter bliss. Utter joy. Utter happiness.

We're just, as Allah says:

We forget. We're short-sighted. Our name, insan, comes from nisyan — to forget. We're like the dog from the movie Up — he sees a squirrel and gets totally distracted. That's us. What's happening throughout the year is that we just keep on running after squirrels. We keep on running after them.

People say, "We're in a rat race." Are you a rat? Am I a rat? No, we're human beings. Why would you ever allow yourself to be described as being part of a rat race? Or, "I'm on the hamster wheel." Are you a hamster? No. So why do we use this language that describes us as animals when we're human beings? Because very often we do function like animals. Allah gifts us with Ramadan to teach us: you're a human being.

We have dignified you. You actually have the capacity to say no, to be disciplined and honorable and not follow your desires. It doesn't matter that the society we live in — may Allah grant everyone hidayah:

The Prophet ﷺ loved people — Muslims and non-Muslims — and he wanted genuine hidayah for everyone, and I pray that hidayah is for everyone. Ya Rabb. But it doesn't matter the fact that in the public sphere today, desires, indulgence, and nafs are becoming consecrated — becoming sacred. We are making the نَفْسُ الأَمَّارَةُ بِالسُّوءِ into a sacred reality. "Don't question your desires. This is who you are. These are your desires."

From a place of deep love in my heart — that's the really wrong idea. That's not what Allah designed. Allah did not design us to be animals, animalistic in our disposition, or iblisi, self-absorbed and self-centered. No. Allah dignified us with a qalb, an aql, a ruh. Every human being has a divine breath breathed into them. We're dignified beings. So we don't behave like animals. We don't think like animals. We don't move in this world like animals.

That's why in a hadith — which is da'if but scholars say benefit can be drawn from it in matters of virtue — Allah says: if you are not content with what I have portioned for you, إِنْ لَمْ تَرْضَ بِمَا قَسَمْتُهُ لَكَ، لَأُسَلِّطَنَّ عَلَيْكَ الدُّنْيَا تَرْكُضُ رَكْضَ الوُحُوشِ فِي الفَلَا — that I will unleash the dunya upon you, and you will run in this dunya like an animal in the open field.

We've all watched National Geographic — the animal running, running, running, exhausted, in the open plain. رَكْضَ الوُحُوشِ فِي الفَلَا — the running of an animal in the open plain. We have to be careful not to run around like animals. Because alhamdulillah, we are not.

Allah gave us a capacity to be higher in rank than the mala'ika. And all of that is a function of how much we are able to consciously, through our hearts and minds, surrender to Allah. And that's what Ramadan is about. Ramadan is all about surrendering our full selves to Allah, submitting our full selves to Allah. We don't eat, we don't drink, we don't do acts of haram. We pray in the night for hours on end. We read Quran. We make du'a. Allah shifts us into an identity, into a state of being that is beautiful, that is mala'iki, that is Muhammadi — greater than mala'iki.

And so we pray, and we find ourselves standing for an hour and a half. Throughout the year we barely stood for one minute at night. But in Ramadan, every night for an hour and a half — absolute discipline. That's what Allah wants from us. He wants us to live in loving surrender. That's what Allah wants for us.

We're Always Miserable When We Live for Ourselves

We can all attest to the fact that when we live life the way that we want to, we're always miserable. We're never happy indulging. No human being that you'll ever talk to will say, "Yeah, that was great — I spent all night in the club drinking, dancing, whatever, and the next morning I feel great." No — they say, "I feel miserable." They literally call it a hangover. "I'm hungover. I can't lift my head. I feel sick to my stomach."

Anyone who's committed a sin — and we've all committed sins — do you ever feel good about yourself afterwards? No. You feel sick to your stomach. You feel disgusting. The words people say to themselves are: "What's wrong with me? Why do I do this? I feel horrible."

The Prophet ﷺ said regarding missing Fajr:

(Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 1142; Sahih Muslim, Hadith 776)

You miss Salatul Fajr on time — you wake up khabithan-nafs, wretched in yourself. Lazy. No barakah. The day is stripped of barakah. And you're just waiting for the day to end. "I just need this day to end." And I'm not mocking, I'm not shaming — I'm talking about an unfortunate reality that we become lulled into by our nafs and by the Shaytan.

"I just need this week to end. I need this year to end." And what do people say? "I'm just killing time." Killing time? You're not killing time — you're destroying yourself.

You're at a loss. You're destroying your existence by killing time. By just waiting, by indulging in binge-watching just so the day can end or the night can end.

But in Ramadan, when you're in that sweet spot — the siyam was really good, the du'a was nice, the salah felt good, the muslimin are together, the spirits are high — you're floating on cloud nine. Does that have anything to do with killing time? No. You're floating. And you know why? Because when you're in the sweet spot, when everything is firing on all cylinders — you disciplined yourself, you didn't do that sin tonight, you deleted that contact of that person you shouldn't have been communicating with in the first place, you didn't watch that stuff you regularly watch — everything is kind of nice and in order, and you feel beautiful. You literally feel beautiful. You feel light, airy, comfortable.

But all of those spiritually elevated, emotionally and psychologically elevated states — what are they rooted in? Pure discipline, pure work, pure mujahidah. Saying no to yourself. That's what it's rooted in.

The Human Capacity for Spiritual Elevation

That's what we don't acknowledge in the public sphere. Unfortunately, we as Muslims are not doing our job to teach ourselves and others about the spiritual potential of the human being — where you can elevate above yourself.

Throughout human history, from Eastern to Western philosophy, the self, the lower self, desires — have always been a blameworthy trait. That's why you hear language like "being a high-minded person." That's Aristotelian logic. "I am of a higher order being" — i.e., I am a person that prefers mind over matter. Throughout human history, from Buddhism to Hinduism, all traditions valued the ability to be spiritually disciplined. It was always a praiseworthy virtue to be high-minded and to discipline the self.

In our society, that's not known anymore. We will literally legislate right into law nafs, desires. We will legislate for it so that you can be your unapologetic self and fulfill your unapologetic desires. And there's no room to counsel people and say, "No, that's not better for you."

Brothers and sisters, as modern people, it's not arbitrary that we are suffering from the greatest rates and percentages of depression, anxiety, suicide, and suicidal ideation. It's not arbitrary. There is a cause. There is a reason. There is a bigger story to be told about the spiritual, psychological, and emotional crisis that the modern human being is in. And we as Muslims have unfortunately disconnected ourselves from the sacred tradition that teaches us how to liberate, how to free.

That's why the Prophet ﷺ — no matter what they threw at him, threats, assassination attempts, boycotts — he never faltered. Not one second. And on the flip side, here are all the pleasures: "We'll make you a king. We'll validate you and celebrate you in the public sphere." He said, "I don't want it." "We will worship your god one day and worship our god one day." He said, "I don't want it." And he said to them categorically: "Wallahi, if you put the sun in my right hand and the moon in my left, I will never leave this effort. Never. I will never leave Allah."

مَنْ ذَاقَ عَرَفَ، وَمَنْ عَرَفَ اغْتَرَفَ — the one who tastes, knows. And the one who knows goes in for second and third and fourth. We're talking about the ability to be genuinely liberated from the confines of this dunya. From the sijn, the imprisoning qualities of this dunya. From the suffocating qualities. Because it is suffocating. "I can't breathe. I feel like I can't function. I'm lost. I don't know who I am."

All of that discombobulation, that sense of loss — we can be beautifully found on a perfect path of hidayah and rushd.

Allah is Close — The Verse of Proximity

Because what is the end of the ayah that Shaykh Abdul Wahab was teaching us?

If My servants ask you about Me — and notice, usually Allah would tell the Prophet, قُلْ, "say." In this context He removed the قُلْ. Immediately: فَإِنِّي قَرِيبٌ — I am close. أُجِيبُ دَعْوَةَ الدَّاعِ إِذَا دَعَانِ — I respond to the call of the caller if he or she calls.

That's why all we have to say is Ya Rabbi, Ya Allah. Allah says:

Call upon Me, I will respond to you. And then He says: but however, those who have kibr — those who are arrogant — how can we ever so thoughtlessly and arrogantly assume that in every nanosecond of our lives we don't need Allah? We need Allah every nanosecond.

In the hadith: الدُّعَاءُ هُوَ الْعِبَادَةُ — calling upon Allah is one of the most powerful representations of 'ubudiyyah, of servanthood. It is the arrogant person who allows a day, two days, three days to pass without saying Ya Allah. How arrogant. In every nanosecond of our lives, we need Allah. We need Allah. Ya Allah. Ya Allah. Every second we need Allah. But then a day, two days, three days goes by without saying, "Ya Allah" — that is kibr.

(Sunan al-Tirmidhi, Hadith 2969; Sunan Abu Dawud, Hadith 1479 — declared Sahih)

Allah is calling. Allah is close. Allah wants khair for us.

Allah is saying: I'm obligating, I'm prescribing, and I'm gifting you this siyam, this du'a, this dhikr, this salah, these hours of ibadah, these times, these windows — all of this is because I want ease for you. I want you to have a good life. الشَّرِيعَةُ كُلُّهَا مَصْلَحَةٌ لِلْعِبَادِ — all of shariah is maslaha for the servants, in this life and the next. It's always our welfare.

Allah wants genuine happiness for us. He wants us to be the happiest, most comfortable, most relaxed, most confident, most upright, most productive people. Do you think Allah wants us to have suicidal ideation? Do you think Allah wants us to be depressed and miserable? No. Why do you think He gave us the shariah? So we have a pathway of liberation. So that doesn't have to become our status quo.

But when we live in a day and age where all we're being constantly taught to do is be self-absorbed, think about yourself all the time — that's a disaster. The worst thing you can do is think about yourself all the time.

Khalli Balik Nafsah — "Empty Your Mind of Yourself"

When your child is leaving the home for a long trip, in Arabic, what do you say to them? خَلِّي بَالَكَ مِنْ نَفْسِكَ — khalli balak min nafsak. We use it to mean "take care of yourself." But what does it literally mean? Khalli means to empty. Al-takhliya — to rid, to empty. Balak — your mind. Min nafsak — of yourself. So for centuries, when the Arab wants to say to someone "take care of yourself," they literally say: empty your mind of yourself, and you will be taken care of.

Empty your mind of yourself, and you'll be okay. That's why be very careful when someone says "you need self-care." Put an asterisk on self-care. If you're telling me self-care means to indulge more in myself — stay away. Because the problem is me. When is the last time you sat there thinking in your brain about yourself and it was an enjoyable enterprise? We are all thoroughly more miserable whenever we sit down and think about ourselves.

When you're driving in the car, listening to music that supports your miserable mood — because that's what so much of the music is about — so you sit there, and it starts raining, and it perfects the mood. Those tears are not for Allah. Those tears are not because you're moved by the Quran. Those tears are just because you are miserable. Why? Because your qalb is full of nafs, yourself.

Protect your qalb from yourself. That's why on the lower extremities is your nafs al-ammara bi-su' — don't let it creep up into your heart. Don't sit there thinking only about your feelings. You know what one of the modern idols is? Modern shirk? It's feelings. You know Hubal? That's what the Arabs would worship — a statue called Hubal. Today we have an alternative for Hubal: my feelings. My feelings are the center of existence. So I bring misery to my husband, misery to my wife, misery to my children. Everyone around me has to hear about my feelings, my sadness, my worries, my needs, my wants. Me, me, me. Narcissism, narcissism, narcissism. All of that is the nafs manifesting in very ugly ways. May Allah protect us from ourselves.

Rushd — Knowing Exactly Where You Are Going

So Allah says: فَلْيَسْتَجِيبُوا لِي — just let them respond to Me. I want ease, I don't want hardship. I want goodness. وَلْيُؤْمِنُوا بِي لَعَلَّهُمْ يَرْشُدُونَ — let them believe in Me, so they may have rushd.

You know what rushd is? Rushd — let me characterize it this way — is when you're on the highway and you know exactly where you're going. The car is in perfect condition, tank full of gas, the path is clear, no storms on the horizon, the sun is out, the birds are chirping, and you're just on the open highway going exactly where you need to go at the pace you need to go, with absolutely no doubts about your direction. That's rushd. That's one of the most liberating feelings to have.

I worked in the city before I was in the shaykh world — I was in venture capital, I was a finance guy. And working in the city, everyone's moving at intense paces. And sometimes you're like — where are you going? I had a co-worker, his name was Babu. Really brilliant guy. He was a non-practicing Hindu. He would come in at 6am, working like a machine. And I'd ask him: "Babu, why do you do everything you do? You work so hard, you're so disciplined, but where are you going? What's the point? Like where are you going? You're moving a lot, you're moving fast." He just looked at me — "Huh?" That led us to having a three-year conversation about theology.

We move in these ways where we have no idea where we're going. That's why people say, "I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing." And Allah is like: I will show you exactly where you need to go. You will be so relaxed. It's the best possible highway.

Don't follow these paths — they will make you lost. There's one path. It's beautiful. May Allah place us on that path and allow us to love to live on it, because it's the most beautiful, most liberating, clearest, most brightened, most illuminated, most enlightened path — the path of Allah.

Closing Du'a

May Allah make us a people of noor, people of light. May Allah bless the remaining days of Sha'ban for us.

May Allah grant us all of the generous givings of this noble month. It's a generous month, it's a kind month. May we receive all of His generosity and His kindness. May it help us in all of our collective lives — not just us, but our neighbors and our loved ones, our classmates, our co-workers. May they see, too, and experience the beauty of this generous and kind month.

بَارَكَ اللَّهُ فِيكُمْ وَشُكْرًا لَكُمْ. وَالصَّلَاةُ وَالسَّلَامُ عَلَيْكُمْ وَرَحْمَةُ اللَّهِ وَبَرَكَاتُهُ