What is Nafs?
There is no single English word for nafs. “Ego” is too small. “Self” is too… what shall I say, flat. “Soul” is rooh, the life force that Allah breathes into us to bring us to life. And none of these definitions are concrete enough to explain the nafs.
The nafs, I believe, is all of these and yet (I know I sound crazy) none of them. It’s the part of us that wants, and fears, and reaches, and just when you finally pin down what you think it wants, it has already moved on to wanting something else. Like a child you can never quite catch, running you in circles until you’re tired and want to scream or hit a tantrum yourself LOL. That’s why I call it restless.
Scholars have written about it for centuries. They name its levels, and map its diseases, and prescribe its cures. In Islam, jihad al-nafs is the struggle against the nafs, the greatest jihad. But how do we know what to fight if you don’t know WHAT to look for?
If we don’t know what it feels like, how do we know what’s happening? If we don’t know how it works, how do we fight it?
The weirdest thing about the nafs is how invisible it is. It isn’t a white angel and a red devil on our shoulders, or a voice whispering (if you’re hearing voices, it’s either shaitaan or you’ve lost it). The nafs is more like the lens we see the world through. But not quite perspective either. I sound like I’m rambling. And that’s probably because I can’t completely explain it myself. I’ve tried, in my novel (nearly 80 000 words to try to explain it!) and still poor Hafsah doesn’t completely understand it. But it’s a starting point, and hopefully it will open up questions in your mind and help you figure things out.
And if you think it’s something different to what I’m saying, please reach out. I would love to hear your thoughts on this. I’m no expert. I’m a housewife who has tried, in her novel, to explain it using spice racks and linen. LOL. I’m a student of life and I want to learn more. Please share your thoughts in the Share and Connect section. We all have different journeys, and each one of us experiences the nafs differently. Let’s combine what we know and learn together. No confessions please, and let’s keep it clean, because the nafs is so much more than just desire.
That is what I wanted to write about. Not the nafs of the textbook, but the nafs of the everyday. Because the war inside the self is relentless, and it doesn’t end after victory. You win for a day, sometimes only an hour, and it’s ALWAYS back. Pesky little thing.
The Nafs Has Levels
Nafs al-Ammārah
The commanding self, driven by impulse, ego, and unchecked desire.
Nafs al-Lawwāmah
The self-reproaching soul, caught in regret, self-awareness, guilt, and striving.
Nafs al-Muṭma’innah
The tranquil soul, at peace with God, content in surrender.
We want to be content, but we are restless. We want peace, but inside it feels like a mini-war, and it all feels like emotion (and NOT because I’m female).
But how on earth are three neat levels supposed to make sense of what’s actually going on inside me?
Longing, disappointment, loss, fear, anger. We feel it, then think we’re overthinking, then blame ourselves. We put ourselves into boxes of ‘maybe I’m not good enough,’ or ‘maybe I’m not strong enough,’ or ‘maybe I’m a lost case/sinner/useless’ and it feels embarrassing to admit, and we feel small and shy to take the matter to the scholars who can help.
So we try to start over, but we don’t even know what we’re starting over from, and we fall into the same patterns, because nobody ever taught us what to look for or what to feel or what to do with those feelings. And then we slip again, and we’re told to make tawbah, but we never address the pattern underneath. So the tawbah is sincere, and the slip comes back anyway.
Muhasabah, taking account of yourself, means evaluating your actions, your intentions, and your thoughts, before the day comes when they’re evaluated for us. I don’t think it’s only about catching the sin. I think it’s about catching the pattern. Because if tawbah is the turning, muhasabah is knowing what to turn away from. One without the other is why we keep ending up in the same place.
So, we are not failures! We are in struggle.
We just don’t always know what we’re struggling with.
That’s the restless nafs. And I believe it really is a kind of syndrome, because I have not yet met a single person who doesn’t have it.
Emotional Intelligence
Modern psychology calls it EQ or emotional intelligence. The ability to regulate emotions, delay gratification, feel pain without lashing out, and respond with wisdom rather than impulse and blame. But in Islamic spirituality, these aren’t just mental or emotional skills. They are the fruits of a trained nafs.
A person of high EQ is someone who has faced their nafs.
Who can feel anger and not harm.
Who can feel longing and not betray.
Who can feel shame and not collapse under it.
They don’t feel less. They’ve just stopped letting the nafs control.
Because the restless nafs is like a wild animal pacing its cage, sniffing for open doors. It growls when it’s denied, whines when it’s restrained, and promises ease if only you’ll let it out “just this once.”
But the one who trains their nafs doesn’t open the cage.
This training is spiritual.
It is embodied.
It comes through heartbreak, tawbah, midnight tears, and the lifelong question: What does Allah want of me?
Why the Nafs Becomes Restless in Our Relationships
The nafs becomes most restless in the spaces between us. It roams in the moments when we feel ignored, misunderstood, dismissed, unseen, or unwanted.
The space between husband and wife is especially vulnerable. It is shaitaan’s favourite playground. When emotional gaps form and go unaddressed, shaitaan enters and plants a tiny seed. The nafs waters it with silence, tends it, and lets it grow. But shaitaan only plants the seed. The rest is us.
The nafs gets restless in marriages, yes, but also in our relationships with siblings, parents, children, friends, and even with ourselves.
The restless nafs feeds on suspicion, draws strength from insecurities, and listens to the internal monologue we’ve rehearsed for years. We think we’re interpreting reality. It all feels so real.
But it’s all feeling, and feelings are not facts.
When the nafs rules, we mistake those feelings for facts. We retreat, we assume, we lash out, or we shut down. We don’t ask what happened, we decide what it meant.
And that is how resentment grows. The gaps widen with time, until we find ourselves with an astounding divorce rate, more in-fighting, and less unity in the Ummah.
And THAT is why I wanted to write this book.
I do not claim to know everything. But if there is one thing I hope to leave behind in this world, it is this. Five years in the making, it is a piece of me, my thoughts laid out for you as honestly as I could manage.
You’re Not Alone
Of course you’re not the only one. You are human.
And like all of us, you carry a whole universe inside you.
Memories, longings, regrets, contradictions.
A heart that hopes and hurts.
A nafs to wrestle.
None of us are perfect. We all fall short, again and again.
But Allah doesn’t look for perfection. Allah asks for ikhlaas, sincerity.
And part of growing in ikhlaas is learning to face what is inside us.
To name it, train it, and not let it lead.
A restless nafs is not a sign of failure or a flaw in our faith.
It is a sign that we are human. That we are fully and utterly alive.
You or Your Nafs?
We live in a time where walking away is easy. Where we’re told to cut ties, to end relationships because they’re “toxic,” and to protect our peace at all costs.
We deserve better, we’re told. We can’t pour from empty cups. So we choose ourselves over the greater good.
And yes, sometimes that’s necessary. Some bonds must be broken, for the sake of safety and healing.
But not always.
The deciding factor shouldn’t be the nafs. Because when the nafs is restless, it warps our view of the world, and that changes how we see everything, and everyone.
So do what you need to do. Cut off, walk away, put yourself first if that’s what it calls for.
But do it knowing that YOU are choosing, and not your nafs.