“The seven heavens, the earth, and all those in them glorify Him. There is not a single thing that does not glorify His praises—but you ˹simply˺ cannot comprehend their glorification. He is indeed Most Forbearing, All-Forgiving.”
That’s why the Awliyāʾ did not merely observe nature; they took adab from it. ‘Adab’ generally means good manners, etiquette, morals, and proper conduct.
For them, the earth was not passive matter but a disciplined servant of God, perfectly aligned with the Divine Command. To be grounded was to learn comportment from creation itself.
▪︎ Shaykh Dhū al-Nūn al-Maṣrī ق said:
“The knower of God takes instruction from everything he sees.”
Nature instructs without speech.
The sun rises without pride.
The moon wanes without grief.
The ocean advances and retreats in obedience.
When the seeker sits among these signs, the heart is gently trained in surrender (taslīm).
▪︎ Shaykh Ibn ʿArabī ق described the cosmos as an arena of continuous disclosure:
“There is nothing in existence that does not glorify God in its own tongue, but the veils of the ego prevent us from hearing it.”
Grounding in nature thins these veils.
Away from the artifices of excess speech and distraction, the seeker begins to sense the hidden dhikr moving through stones, water, and wind.
This is not imagination but attunement.
▪︎ Shaykh Abū Yazīd al-Bisṭāmī ق once said:
“I went out into the desert and found that silence taught me what speech could not.”
The desert, the forest, and the sea each offer a distinct schooling.
The desert teaches poverty (faqr), the forest teaches intimacy (uns), and the sea teaches awe (haybah).
To ground oneself is to enter these classrooms willingly, with receptivity rather than demand.
▪︎ Imām al-Ghazālī ق warned that spiritual excess without grounding leads to imbalance:
“Every light that is not balanced by humility becomes a fire.”
Nature tempers fire.
Its rhythms soften the sharp edges of spiritual ambition.
Walking barefoot upon soil, breathing cold air, and feeling rain – these are not distractions from remembrance, but anchors that prevent the Heart from drifting into illusion.
▪︎ Mawlānā Rūmī ق spoke often of learning annihilation (fanāʾ) from the earth itself:
“Why are you so busy with this or that, whether good or bad? Pay attention to how things blend.”
▪︎ And elsewhere:
“When you let go of who you are, you become who you might be.”
The earth lets go constantly; leaves fall, forms decay, and names disappear.
In grounding, the seeker practises this letting go, not as loss but as transformation.
▪︎ Shaykh Ibn ʿAṭāʾAllāh ق taught that true stability is inward, not circumstantial:
“Nothing benefits the heart more than a retreat that enters it into the field of reflection.”
Nature provides such a retreat without walls.
The field, the mountain, the open sky – these expand reflection until the heart remembers its original vastness.
▪︎ Shaykh Abū Madyan ق summarised the secret succinctly:
“Be with creation outwardly and with the Truth inwardly.”
Grounding harmonises these two presences.
The seeker remains embodied, engaged, and rooted yet inwardly turned toward God.
Thus, grounding in nature is not regression to the world but completion of servanthood.
The one who learns humility from soil, patience from trees, and trust from rivers is protected from spiritual arrogance.
Such a heart can carry illumination without being scorched by it. For when the servant learns to stand rightly upon the earth, the heavens open without resistance.
Source: Teachings of the Heart
Universal Spirituality 