Murcia, Spain, 1165.
A young boy named Muhammad ibn Arabi sat in his father’s study, trembling. He’d just had a vision – mystical, overwhelming, terrifying in its beauty.
His father’s friends, the respected scholars, told him: “This is arrogance. This is your ego pretending to be holy. You’re not special. You’re delusional.”
The boy believed them. For years, he crushed every mystical insight, every moment of divine connection, every whisper of his soul.
Because the voice in his head said: “Who do you think you are?”
Sound familiar?
The Voice That Kills Your Soul
Ibn Arabi called it “al-nafs al-lawwama” – the blaming soul. The inner prosecutor. The voice that constantly accuses you of being too much or not enough.
You know this voice:
Who do you think you are to want that?
You’re not qualified enough.
People will think you’re arrogant.
You’re being selfish.
You don’t deserve that.
You’re fooling yourself.
Western psychology calls it the “inner critic.”
Ibn Arabi called it 800 years ago: the soul that wages war against your becoming.
What Ibn Arabi Discovered in the Dark
For years, he listened to the blaming voice. Became a lawyer. Did the respectable thing. Crushed every mystical impulse.
And he was dying inside.
Until one night – and this is documented in his own writings – he had a dream. In it, he saw himself arguing with God.
He was listing all his flaws, all his inadequacies, all the reasons he wasn’t worthy of divine love.
And God interrupted him:
“I know all of this better than you do. I created you. Do you think I made a mistake?”
Ibn Arabi woke up and realized: The voice condemning him wasn’t God’s voice. It was the blaming soul’s voice. And he’d been treating it as truth.
The Three Stages of the Soul (Where You Are Right Now)
Ibn Arabi taught that the soul evolves through three stages. Most people never leave the first one.
Stage 1: Al-Nafs al-Ammara (The Commanding Soul)
This is the ego running wild. Pure impulse. “I want what I want when I want it.”
Toddlers live here. Some adults never leave.
You’re probably not here. If you’re reading this at 3 AM, wrestling with existential questions, you’ve evolved past pure ego.
Stage 2: Al-Nafs al-Lawwama (The Blaming Soul)
This is where you are. This is where most seekers get stuck.
This is the soul that has awakened enough to see its flaws but not enough to transcend them.
So it does what partially-awakened souls do: It attacks itself constantly.
Every mistake is evidence of fundamental unworthiness.
Every desire is proof of selfishness.
Every ambition is arrogance.
Every moment of joy is followed by guilt.
The blaming soul thinks it’s being spiritual by being cruel to itself.
Ibn Arabi’s warning: This stage is more dangerous than the first. Because it disguises self-hatred as humility.
Stage 3: Al-Nafs al-Mutma’inna (The Soul at Peace)
This is the goal. The soul that has stopped warring with itself.
Not because it’s perfect. Because it has accepted that perfection was never the point.
This is the soul that can receive love because it’s stopped arguing with its own existence.
Ibn Arabi spent his life teaching people how to get from Stage 2 to Stage 3.
Here’s how.
The Practice Ibn Arabi Gave His Students
This isn’t theory. This is the actual practice from his writings, translated for your 3 AM.
Step 1: Recognize the Blaming Voice
When the inner critic starts, don’t fight it. Name it.
“This is the blaming soul speaking.”
Not “I am unworthy.” But: “The blaming soul is saying I’m unworthy.”
Huge difference. You’ve separated yourself from the voice.
Ibn Arabi: “The first step toward freedom is recognizing you are not your thoughts about yourself.”
Step 2: Ask: “Is This Voice God’s or the Blaming Soul’s?”
Ibn Arabi was clear: God’s voice corrects. The blaming soul condemns.
God’s voice says: “You made a mistake. Learn from it. Grow.”
The blaming soul says: “You ARE a mistake. You’re fundamentally flawed. You’ll never change.”
God’s voice says: “This desire comes from me. Pursue it with integrity.”
The blaming soul says: “This desire proves you’re selfish. Crush it.”
God’s voice says: “You’re struggling because you’re growing.”
The blaming soul says: “You’re struggling because you’re broken.”
When the critical voice speaks, ask: “Is this correction or condemnation?”
If it’s condemnation, it’s not God. It’s the blaming soul, and you don’t have to obey it.
Step 3: Practice “Muhasaba” (The Loving Inventory)
Every night, Ibn Arabi did an accounting of his day. But not the way the blaming soul does it.
The Blaming Soul’s Inventory:
- Everything I did wrong
- Everything I should have done better
- All the ways I failed
- Proof I’m not worthy
Ibn Arabi’s Loving Inventory:
- Where did I see God’s mercy today?
- Where did I act with integrity?
- Where did I stumble, and what can I learn?
- Where did I receive love, even if I didn’t feel I deserved it?
Notice: Both practices review the day. One destroys you. One transforms you.
Step 4: The Practice of “Tawba” (Return, Not Repentance)
The West translates “tawba” as repentance. Wrong.
Tawba means “return.” Turning back toward the divine, toward your true self, toward wholeness.
Not groveling. Not self-flagellation. Not proving you’re sorry enough.
Just turning. Again and again.
Ibn Arabi: “The sign of a mature soul is not that it never turns away. It’s that it knows how to turn back.”
When you mess up, when you fall back into old patterns, when you disappoint yourself:
Don’t spiral. Return.
I turned away. I’m turning back. This is the practice.
No drama. No performance of unworthiness. Just the simple movement of return.
What Happened When Ibn Arabi Stopped Listening
Once he stopped obeying the blaming soul, Ibn Arabi became one of the most prolific mystics in history.
He wrote over 800 books.
He taught thousands of students.
He traveled from Spain to Damascus, teaching until his death at 75.
His writings are still studied 800 years later. The scholars who told him he was delusional? History forgot their names.
But here’s what matters more:
He wrote this late in life: “I wasted 30 years arguing with the blaming soul. I could have spent those years in service. Don’t make my mistake.”
You’re making his mistake right now.
The Blaming Soul’s Favorite Tricks (Watch For These)
Ibn Arabi catalogued how the blaming soul operates. It’s still using the same tactics:
Trick 1: Disguising fear as humility
“Who am I to want that?” sounds humble. It’s actually fear dressed up as spirituality.
Real humility: “I’m not special, but I’m also not an exception to God’s love.”
Trick 2: Using past failures as identity
The blaming soul loves to say: “You failed before, so you’ll fail again. This is who you are.”
Ibn Arabi’s response: “The soul is always in motion. What was true yesterday doesn’t have to be true today.”
Trick 3: Comparing your interior to others’ exterior
“Everyone else has it figured out. Everyone else is worthy. Just not you.”
Ibn Arabi: “You’re comparing your struggles to their performance. This is delusion, not discernment.”
Trick 4: Demanding perfection before permission
“When you’re worthy enough, THEN you can pursue your calling.”
Ibn Arabi: “You pursue the calling to BECOME worthy. Not the other way around.”
The Permission Ibn Arabi Gives You
Here’s what this 12th century Sufi master would say to you at 3 AM:
The blaming soul is not your guide. It’s the obstacle disguised as wisdom.
Your doubts about your worthiness? The blaming soul.
Your fear that you’re being arrogant? The blaming soul.
Your constant self-criticism dressed as “self-improvement”? The blaming soul.
God doesn’t need you to be perfect. God needs you to be present.
Stop arguing with your existence.
Stop prosecuting yourself for being human.
Stop treating the blaming voice as if it’s divine wisdom.
It’s not God speaking. It’s the stage-two soul that hasn’t learned to be at peace yet.
The Practice for Tonight
Before you sleep, Ibn Arabi would have you do this:
Place your hand on your heart. Say this:
“I am not my mistakes.
I am not my failures.
I am not the voice that condemns me.
I am the soul returning, again and again, to the divine.
And that is enough.”
Say it even if you don’t believe it yet.
Especially if you don’t believe it yet.
The blaming soul will protest: “This is arrogance!”
Let it protest. It’s losing power, and it knows it.
What Ibn Arabi Knew That You’re Learning
The journey from the blaming soul to the peaceful soul doesn’t happen by being harder on yourself.
It happens by being kinder.
Not permissive. Not avoidant. Kind.
The way a wise teacher corrects a student: “You can do better. I believe in you. Try again.”
Not: “You’re hopeless. You’ll never change. Why do you even try?”
One voice leads to growth. The other to paralysis.
Ibn Arabi spent 800 years teaching this. You can start learning it tonight.
For Your 3 AM
The blaming soul is loudest at 3 AM. When your defenses are down. When you’re tired. When the masks don’t work.
It will list every failure. Every flaw. Every reason you’re not enough.
Ibn Arabi would tell you:
That voice is not God.
That voice is not truth.
That voice is the soul in transition, attacking itself because it doesn’t know how else to grow.
You don’t have to obey it.
You can recognize it: “This is the blaming soul.”
You can question it: “Is this correction or condemnation?”
You can turn away from it: “I’m returning to peace.”
And with each return, the blaming soul loses a little more power.
Until one day, God willing, you arrive at the third stage:
The soul at peace. Not perfect. Just no longer at war with itself.
Al-Nafs al-Mutma’inna – the soul at peace. This is the grey hour’s gift.
—Nizar Al Haddad