It’s not all pretty, that’s for sure.
When I first stepped into seclusion, I imagined it would feel like taking a few days off work — like calling in sick when you just can’t be bothered. But this wasn’t that. I wasn’t just tired. I was broke, inside and out. Spiritually bankrupt. The kind of empty where even an iota of goodness feels hard to find.
That was my reason for retreating: to synchronize my annual leave with something more than Netflix and scrolling. I told myself, maybe the rain and storm of solitude could wash me clean.
The Noise I Wanted to Escape
Seclusion, at least in the first week, didn’t feel like seclusion at all. Khalwat dar Anjuman — a retreat within society — still carried its fair share of distractions.
I thought of fleeing to my house on the outskirts, but when I got there, it had been ravaged by neglect. Months of abandonment had left it exposed: windows stolen, doors bent, rain soaking the floors, a green mossy residue creeping along the walls. Birds nested in the rafters. Termites ate away at my front door.
That house became an analogy for the heart. Left unguarded, it rots. Neglected, it weakens. Attacked from within and without, it collapses.
The Flood of Noise — Digital, Spiritual, Empty
And isn’t that us? Every day bombarded by meaningless information, driven to want more while doing less. If you never knew a new phone came out every six months, would you really care to buy one?
I found myself chasing barakah in the wrong way. One day, I’m reciting salawat ʿala an-Nabi ﷺ. The next, a “get rich” duʿā forwarded by a friend on WhatsApp. Then another one I read online. Where to start? Where to finish?
Half the time I’d drift through the internet, even asking ChatGPT which duʿā is “the greatest.” Before I knew it, two hours had passed, and I was still scrolling, still asking.
Don’t get me wrong: AI has its uses. Homework help, directions to Tesco — fine. But when it comes to matters of the heart? Forget it. These tools can’t reach that deep. And unguarded, they become dangerous. Leave kids alone with them and soon innocence is chipped away by questions that should never have been asked.
What Seclusion Actually Taught Me
Funny thing is, a week before my seclusion, my phone was stolen. At first I thought it was a curse; turns out, it might have been a blessing. I still borrowed my kid’s tablet here and there, checked Facebook on the browser, but the constant notifications were gone. I only saw things when I wanted to.
And that’s when I noticed something: the sheer waste of time. Hours bled away on commutes, on buses, on trains. At work, people you don’t choose become your company. Maghrib arrives, and instead of prayer, you’re stuck watching a Man United game in a pub with a colleague who swears a zero-alcohol beer and a bag of crisps makes it all “halal.”
Ninety minutes later, Maghrib is gone. Qadhā is waiting. The heart consoles itself. Then comes another test — the woman in the skimpy dress catching your eye, daring you to look twice.
Why Seclusion Still Matters
You can’t escape the internet. You can’t avoid random co-workers or women in black dresses. Whether on the Northern Line at St. Pancras or the pub on match night, the tests are everywhere.
But seclusion — even in fragments — is still necessary. Yes, everyone should try it. Because slowly, patterns appear. Veils lift. You begin to see things for what they are.
And no, it’s not about running to the mountains forever. Sometimes it’s just choosing a juice bar instead of a pub. Sometimes it’s inviting your colleague home, where your wife serves her signature beetroot juice. Sometimes it’s training yourself to look once, then lower the gaze — as the Prophet ﷺ taught.
I found wisdom in unexpected places: Michael Sugich’s books, Dave Newport’s Deep Work, even tech billionaires who don’t let their kids near smartphones. That tells you something.
The Takeaway
If seclusion taught me anything, it’s this: use your phone less, choose your spaces wisely, and guard your heart the way you would guard your home from termites and storms.
And finally — never waste your time on mediocre football. Life’s too short to watch Man United.
Stay safe. Stay protected.
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