A Personal Reflection from a Searching Soul

Assalamu alaikum, I wanted to share some thoughts that have been weighing heavily on my heart lately. It might be a bit lengthy, so feel free to bookmark it for a quiet moment, but I genuinely hope you’ll take the time to read through. I’ve always been somewhat of a solitary person, not necessarily by choice but more due to my nature-I often find myself believing I’m on the right path while others are mistaken. This started from small things in my youth, like avoiding posting pictures online because it felt superficial. But that’s just a bit of background; my main point is that I tend to view things from a place of feeling apart from others, and you’ll see why as I go on. The past year has been particularly challenging, leaving me feeling more lost and confused than ever. A big part of this stems from how I’ve started to see our approach to Islam. It seems to me that we sometimes treat our deen as something separate from our everyday lives, missing its true essence. For example, my mother often plays Quranic recitations while doing housework or on Fridays with Surat Al-Kahf, saying it wards off evil and brings blessings. While that’s beautiful, it made me ponder: do we sometimes reduce the Quran to just a protective charm or a means to earn rewards, rather than embracing it as a comprehensive guide for life that we should strive to deeply understand? Another instance that struck me is when I heard about people traveling far to pray Taraweeh behind a reciter with a captivating voice. It made me question: are we achieving true khushoo’ because of the Quran’s profound meanings or because of the melodious delivery? These reflections, among others, led me to feel that our practice of Islam might sometimes miss the mark. So, I decided to seek a deeper understanding of the Quran to properly grasp and defend my faith, but this brought its own dilemmas. Should I turn to classical tafsirs like those of At-Tabari or Ibn Kathir, or focus on explanations rooted in Arabic linguistics? If I rely on classical tafsirs, it involves trusting interpretations passed down through chains of narration, similar to how hadiths are authenticated. While many uphold the rigor of hadith verification through isnad, I struggle with accepting some sahih hadiths that describe extraordinary events, like a tree weeping or an animal speaking. And if hadiths hold equal weight to the Quran, why were they initially prohibited from being written to avoid mixing with the Quran? On the other hand, exploring Quranic understanding through linguistics introduced me to scholars like Dr. Yusuf Abu Awad, whose approach resonates with me. He delves deeply into the Arabic language, uncovering connections between letters and verses. However, I discovered that many traditional scholars criticize such thinkers, labeling them as deviant or accusing them of foreign agendas. This leaves me torn between different paths within our ummah, each claiming to represent true Islam. Setting aside the Quranic understanding issue, let’s consider human psychology. It’s fascinating how our minds are shaped by our experiences, leading to diverse perspectives even among those close to us. Take groups like the Muslim Brotherhood: they began with noble aims to protect Islam and Muslim lands, but over decades, their trajectory shifted dramatically. This makes me wonder about the reliability of narratives passed down centuries later, like hadiths compiled long after the Prophet’s (peace be upon him) time. This psychological diversity raises tough questions: How can we unite as Muslims when our natures differ so much? Will we all enter Jannah despite our varying beliefs and practices? Does someone who focuses on outward rulings, like avoiding isbal, attain the same Paradise as one who seeks profound spiritual understanding? Does touching the Black Stone hold the same weight as sincerely living by “Iyaka na’budu wa iyaka nasta’een” in daily life? If the answer is that Allah knows best and Paradise has degrees, I accept that, but it still highlights radical differences in how we approach our deen. Some ways might stem more from cultural habits than Islamic teachings, which the Quran warns against. This leads to a deeper reflection: if I weren’t born Muslim, would I choose Islam? Or if asked to prove Islam’s truth, could I provide a convincing answer? Often, we’re taught to accept faith from childhood, which sometimes feels at odds with Islam’s call for critical understanding. All this explains why I feel we compartmentalize our religion, adding to my sense of being lost. Which brings me to my second point: marriage. It’s odd how marriage ties into my confusion. I tell myself, “Why be sad about not being married? Just live your life and let it happen if it’s meant to be.” But it’s deeper than that. As a lonely person-not without friends, but spending much time alone-I’ve found solitude amplifies thoughts and yearnings for emotional connection. I don’t know if this is a test from Allah or a hidden blessing; while introspection has its perks, loneliness can fuel desires, both emotional and physical. It’s not about marriage just for fulfilling desires, but to fill an emotional void that many might not fully grasp-it ties back to that human psychology we discussed. Some might ask, “If marriage would benefit you, why not pursue it?” I truly wanted to, even hoping to marry young before finishing my studies. But this past year shifted my perspective. I realized marriage requires, at least for me, a solid grounding in my deen to guide a family responsibly. Yet, as I mentioned, I’m still searching for that proper understanding. Plus, finding a spouse who shares or is open to similar thoughts is tough, given how hard it is to reshape someone’s mindset. What truly makes me feel unworthy, though, is that I’ve fallen into zina multiple times recently, leaving me disgusted with myself. That’s pretty much where I’m at. You can probably see now why I mentioned feeling apart from others at the start. I know it might seem hypocritical to critique how others practice Islam while struggling with major sins myself, but this is my honest reality. May Allah guide us all to what is best and grant us clarity and forgiveness.