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The practice of dhikr is more than just reciting words; it's a journey that can transform our hearts and connect us deeply with our Creator.

The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ taught us about the immense value of dhikr, calling it the best of our deeds, even more valuable than giving wealth in charity or fighting in the path of Allah.

But how can simple recitations surpass such challenging and noble acts?

Only when we grasp the profound depth of Dhikr can we begin to understand the truth of this statement.

There are layers to dhikr.

We go through stages as we deepen our remembrance of Allah, and each layer takes us closer to the core of genuine spiritual connection.

Layer One: The Tongue

The first step on this journey is the remembrance of the tongue.

Most begin by reciting phrases like SubhanAllah, Alhamdulillah, and Allahu Akbar.

While this may seem simple, it's an essential foundation.

The tongue is the gateway, the first step toward engaging the heart.

But if we stay here, our dhikr remains on the surface.

Layer Two: The Heart’s Presence

As we progress, we engage the heart in remembrance, focusing on the meanings and genuinely experiencing the dhikr.

Here, the heart needs supervision; it requires effort and discipline to stay focused on Allah.

It’s like trying to keep a wandering child close by in a crowded place—our heart is easily distracted by the world around us.

But when we persist, our hearts begin to align with the words our tongues are saying, and we begin to change.

Layer Three: The Heart’s Immersion

The third layer is where dhikr starts to transform us truly.

At this stage, the heart is so immersed in remembrance that it becomes difficult to turn away.

Imagine being so captivated by something that you can't focus on anything else—this is the heart fully absorbed in dhikr.

Remembering Allah is no longer a struggle.

It becomes natural, like breathing.

Layer Four: The Core — Oblivion in the Remembered

Finally, we reach the core of dhikr, where the heart is so deeply connected with Allah that the act of remembrance itself fades away.

Here, we are no longer conscious of the words or even our hearts.

We are fully immersed in the One we are remembering.

This state, often called fanā’ (self-oblivion), is where the self disappears, and all that remains is the presence of Allah.

To help us understand this, think about moments when we are so consumed by something—anger, love, or deep thought—that we become unaware of everything else around us.

We don’t hear people talking to us.

We don’t even see what’s happening, though our senses are functioning perfectly.

That’s a taste of what this spiritual immersion feels like, except here, it’s not about the self or the world; it’s about being absorbed in the Divine.

When we reach this state, the world appears different.

The great gnostics describe this as lightning that strikes suddenly, illuminating everything.

But unlike a flash that fades, this light becomes a permanent fixture in our hearts, guiding us constantly.

We begin to see that the physical world lacks true substance.

It is to the unseen world what a shadow is to a body.

Just as a shadow is only a reflection, not close to the actual person or their essence, the physical world is merely a reflection of the deeper, unseen reality.

We start to perceive a pure reality where the spiritual world becomes clear to us.

We may still be physically present with others when needed, but our hearts remain tethered to something greater.

This is where we begin to see Allah in everything and reach the pinnacle of Ihsan.

It’s not something we achieve easily—it’s a gift from Allah, given to those who persist in their journey of dhikr.