The Salaf always talked about eating and sleeping less as a means of acquiring energy to perform your ʿibbādah. I never quite understood this.
A poor night’s sleep did not leave me energised—it left me exhausted! Similarly, fasting frequently only left me weakened and tired!
(I still chose to believe the salaf y’know. I was certain I was doing something wrong.)
Over the weekend, I was attending a Ramaḍān prep course, and the sheikha explained this point so well.
You are made of two components: a body and a soul. You energise and strengthen the one you feed.
By getting your complete 8-10 hours of sleep every single night, you’re no doubt ensuring optimal health for your body. But see, your soul needs you to get up in the last third of the night and stand in prayer, reciting Qurʾān, strengthening your private relationship with Allāh. When you don’t, your soul weakens. Even though your body continues to grow stronger, your weakened and frail soul simply does not have the capacity to dedicatedly perform acts of worship. Then you are left baffled and wonder why oh why can’t you do the simplest acts of worship that you really, genuinely want to engage in.
Similarly, eating sufficiently day-in, day-out (note: we’re not talking about sleeping and eating in excess; that is detrimental to your body as well as your soul) will ensure your body is at its healthiest, you’ll be full of energy. But your soul will be weaker. Your soul needs you to forgo meals and pleasures every once in a while. Your soul needs to be nourished through fasting and abstaining. Yes, fasting leaves the body at the end of the day weaker than normal (you energise it eventually by eating the right things at sunset), but your soul finds immeasurable strength to do what you otherwise, irrespective of high energy levels of the body, won’t be able to do.
Now, it’s certainly not praiseworthy to starve and deprive your body continuously, leaving it frail and weak. Your body, too, has rights over you, as we learn in a Ḥadīth.
The formula is simple: As a believer, you need to have a strong soul and body, BUT your soul needs to be stronger than your body. Your soul needs to dictate your actions. When your body says 5 more minutes, your soul needs to be strong enough to tell you, “No, now is not the time for sleep, it’s time for ʿibbādah.” When your body urges you to go in for second and third helpings of dessert, your soul should be able to tell you enough.
A believer’s soul must be stronger than his body, but he must have a strong and healthy body too.
Enter Ramaḍān. Goals are set, lists are drawn, and enthusiasm levels are at an all time high. Half way through you realise you’ve accomplished almost nothing on your list. You’re struggling a lot more than you anticipated. Sure you’re fasting the entire day and you’re praying your five, but it’s almost as if you’re doing just the bare minimum. But you had such lofty aspirations!
Imagine putting a body that barely exercises or eats right through a 5k marathon, expecting it to earn first place. Very illogical! Your soul isn’t much different, an untrained soul cannot excel when the time comes. It’ll scrape by, sure. But with a mediocre performance—far from the lofty goals we want for ourselves…
Towards the end of last Ramaḍān, my inbox started filling up with messages from sisters who were in this very situation. They’d entered Ramaḍān intending to make the most of it, yet it was nearing the end, and they hadn’t done much. They were sad about it, and if anything this was a sign of a heart very much alive. A much wretched situation is of a person who is indifferent to the sanctity of Ramaḍān, one who enters Ramaḍān intending to enjoy the lazy days, night feasts and “special Ramaḍān TV programmes”.
Train your souls.
No Comments