Why Am I On A Spiritual retreat?

Last year it was FOMO, this year it’s something else

If you are a regular reader, you’ll know that I am currently sitting in itikaf. The word itikaf comes from the root of akafa, which means to stick, cling to or devote oneself to something. It is a religious practice that the Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) took part in regularly. In fact, he was doing itikaf when he received his first revelation. There are various narrations that document the Prophet observing itikaf during Ramadan, for example:

Abdullah ibn Umar narrates: Allah’s Messenger (peace and blessings be upon him) used to sit for itikaf in the last ten days of the month of Ramadan.

Itikaf in the Islamic sense means to seclude oneself either in the masjid or in a room, at home (usually where women would do itikaf). The purpose of seclusion isn’t to become like a hermit, but to cut of oneself, temporarily, from the world, and to gain closeness to God. For centuries Christian monks and nuns have secluded themselves in monasteries and abbeys for their entire lives. This isn’t allowed for Muslims, as we are encouraged to marry, have families and earn our own subsistence. That said, there have been examples of Sufis that have retreated from the world in some jungle or mountainside, but this is not a common practice even amongst Sufis.

I work in the Further Education sector and can only take leave during half-terms, summer and festive holidays. Last year, the last 10 days of Ramadan and the Easter Holiday happened to overlap. At this point, I had only sat itikaf a few times in my life, with my previous seclusion lasting only a couple of days over a weekend. Therefore, I resolved myself to take the opportunity and joined three others from my local community and family in the masjid. The 10 days were transformative. I felt a deepening of spirituality within myself and within my writing. You can read more about last years itikaf in my previous posts Ramadan 2024 WK4, Ramadan 2024 Reflection and how it changed my life in Shawwal 2024 Reflections.

This Ramadan, the holidays will fall a week after Ramadan has passed, therefore, there is no overlap in holidays. I will have to go to work, which there is a dispensation for, whilst I am in the state of itikaf. Last year after completing the itikaf, for weeks later I felt like I had left my real home. I felt a longing to return to itikaf that I had never experienced before. I finally understood why my father has for decades observed itikaf every year and why other members of my family return to it every year. I wanted to reconnect with God.

My itikaf routine starts in a similar way to my Ramadan routine. I wake up for sehri (breakfast) at around 3.45am. I prepare my son’s breakfast (he has joined me this year) and then prepare my own. Then we brush our teeth and perform ablution. Fajr prayer takes place about 20 minutes after the fast closes. We head downstairs and engage in prayers for about 10 minutes. After prayers, I recite the Qur’an whilst getting some of my daily steps in. Then its back to bed. I wake in the morning, perform my ablutions, including using the miswak, a root from the salvadora presica tree, to clean my teeth and tongue (toothpaste isn’t allowed because of its minty freshness). Then, I get some more steps in whilst reciting the Qur’an. After this, I will either work on my biography of the Prophet, or do some academic work. This takes me up to the afternoon prayer. After the prayer, I’ll either read the Qur’an, or continue working on one of the aforementioned projects. Then, its nap time. A long nap. Like a couple of hours. When I awake, its ablution, recite Qur’an and then attend the mid-afternoon prayer. Following the prayer, there is about an hour and a half to the fast opening. I spend some more time studying or reciting the Qur’an. There is a lot of Qur’an reading during Ramadan, but more so in itikaf. What better way of getting closer to God than to read His Words. We open the fast communally with the regular worshippers and then do the sunset prayer. After the prayer, its time to dive into the culinary delights that my wife sends for us with one of my brothers. She always sends too generous a portion. We end up eating it again after the night prayer, taraweehs (recommended marathon prayers that last 1 hour 20 minutes) and dhikr, remembrance of God. We do this in the Chishty Sufi style. We sit cross-legged on the floor, head bowed and individually chant the remembrance of God. The chants are prescribed by our spiritual guide, our sheikh. Mine is to recite, La ilaha ilallah (There is no God but Allah), 200 times, and then Allah, 500 times. Afterwards, we sit with the Imams and have a scholarly discussion about various Islamic topics, then its time to either recite some more Qur’an or engage in study or optional prayers. Around midnight, I lay my head down and try to sleep before it all starts again at 3.45am.

This may not be appealing to everyone, but the simplicity and routines of itikaf is what aids in the deepening of spirituality. I am not worrying about bills, work issues, family drama, keeping up with social media (though I still blog as part of my reflective practice), video games, television, fiction or anything. Its sleep, recite Qur’an, pray and study, and repeat. That is it. It is a luxury in this day and age. One that even the rich struggle to afford. I am grateful to God that I have had this opportunity. Only God knows if I will live to see another Ramadan and whether I will have another opportunity to enjoy the seclusion of itikaf again.