All praise is due to Allah…
If you begin flipping through your small task planner, or pull out old sheets from your desk drawer—papers on which you once drew up plans for religious study, da’wah, or even professional goals—a haze of sorrow will rise with the dust, and you’ll feel as if you’re still at the bottom of the valley, while your dreams and ambitions remain suspended in the clouds, unreachable.
Now imagine if one were to dig deeper into the heart and remember a dream far greater than all these: the aspiration to be with Muhammad ﷺ in the palaces of Paradise, spending eternity among the elite companions…
What is the reason, then, that all those beautiful dreams and plans have been trampled under the hooves of passing years, the ink faded, and nothing yet fulfilled?
The truth is that there are many factors explaining such failures and unrealized goals. Some are indicated by divine texts, others by the vast human experience we have today in the fields of management, planning, and success—especially empirically validated administrative knowledge.
But there’s one particular factor I hold in special regard, one that explains much of this failure:
The plans lie on the rocks, but the feet are still soft—they haven’t yet been worn by hardship.
Many souls still harbor a hidden illusion that one can attain greatness without enduring hardship and tasting bitterness.
Allah has designed life such that lofty goals—like mastery in knowledge, spreading divine guidance, establishing truth, societal reform, and global influence—are never attained by someone who preserves all his comfort, food, drink, sleep, and relaxation. This is a reality proven by both divine law and the raw experiences of life.
If a person sleeps until the red hues of dawn glare into his eyes, spreads out the dining mat whenever he desires, devotes long hours to coffee, tea, juices, and pastries, and never sacrifices outings or late-night hangouts, and cannot resist the lure of mindless internet browsing—yet still hopes to one day fulfill his scholarly, da’wah, and reformist goals—then such a person has removed his brain and replaced it with Aladdin’s lamp!
Lofty matters and grand ambitions—whether in knowledge, teaching, authorship, reform, or reviving the ummah—never reveal their faces to you unless you wipe the sweat from your brow with a trembling, exhausted hand.
Once, I was speaking with a peer active in the field of Islamic educational development. He asked, “In your view, what is the greatest threat to our Islamic learning environments amidst these intellectual shifts and modern challenges?” I told him, with a conviction etched deep into my mind: “Forget all the ideological deviations. The greatest threat to educational da’wah today is simply: lack of seriousness.”
In an atmosphere dominated by noise, amusement, and bursts of laughter—how can one expect it to produce a cornerstone, a chronicle, a reference work, or a dictionary? Life’s logic simply rejects that. Knowledge is far too precious to be sold in discount markets.
Ask any of the creative scholars you admire, examine the biographies of those whose knowledge captivates you—you will find that the first thing sacrificed in their lives was comfort: sleep, food, drink, leisure. Our dreams reside on mountain peaks, yet our feet remain soft and untried. Worse still, we imagine that results will simply descend without effort.
Take, for instance, how often students and researchers have a manuscript or book project stalled at the early outline stage—just titles, themes, a few citations. Years pass, the sun shifts across the sky… and it never sees the light of day. Why? Because excess sleep, excess food and drink, excessive entertainment, excessive socializing, excessive speech, and excessive screen time—all have taken their full, uncut share.
You’ll find within many people the seeds of goodness and productivity—but they never advance beyond the “project” stage. Even in worldly matters, how many young people speak endlessly to themselves and others about their plans to start a business “in the coming days”? Yet the years pass, and those “coming days” never come—because they couldn’t part with their daily quota of leisure, comfort, and hangouts.
When Imam Muslim ibn al-Hajjaj was compiling his monumental Sahih, and reached the chapter on prayer times, he examined the hadith of Abdullah ibn ‘Amr, which contains multiple narrations. He organized them beautifully, tracing the variants back through Qatadah from Abu Ayyub to Abdullah ibn ‘Amr. When he completed this scholarly feat, he inserted a profound statement—an effect, not a hadith, but an echo of the struggle it took to arrive at that arrangement:
“Knowledge cannot be attained with bodily comfort.” — Yahya ibn Abi Kathir
Now bear in mind, Imam Muslim’s Sahih is renowned for including only hadiths directly traceable to the Prophet ﷺ. Why then did he insert this non-prophetic saying from a Tabi‘i into the chapter? Judge ‘Iyad later explained:
“Many wonder why Muslim included this report here. One of our scholars said: Muslim admired his own work in the chapter, recognizing how much effort it took. So he inserted this statement to highlight that such results are not reached except through toil and labor.” — [Ikmal al-Mu‘allim, 2/577]
It’s clear that the statement of Yahya ibn Abi Kathir—“Knowledge cannot be attained with bodily comfort”—resonated deeply with Imam Muslim. Though many similar sayings exist, he chose this one because it struck a special chord with him. It wasn’t mere eloquence. These were words carved by the chisel of real experience.
I have seen young scholars surpass their peers with torrents of knowledge, and books so solid they become foundational references—and I always think: May Allah have mercy on Yahya ibn Abi Kathir for saying: “Knowledge cannot be attained with bodily comfort.”
And this toil isn’t just required for religious goals—it applies to all forms of human excellence. As Ibn al-Qayyim said:
“All excellence is only attained through difficulty; there’s no crossing to it except on a bridge of toil.”— Miftah Dar al-Sa‘adah
The most fruitful toil is that which is invested toward the eternal future. Ibn al-Qayyim also said:
“The righteous never reached their station without relentless travel; they only arrived at the abode of peace by crossing the bridge of fatigue.” — Bada’i‘ al-Fawa’id
It’s important to reflect on this divine law linking hardship and achievement. Ibn al-Qayyim explained it in discussing Allah’s decree and wisdom:
“It has been established by His wisdom that happiness, bliss, and rest are only reached through the bridge of effort, hardship, and patience.” — Shifa’ al-‘Alil, p. 448
This link between toil and success is not unique to the Shari‘ah. It’s a reality that all sane people recognize once they engage with life. One of the first to express this universality was Imam Ibrahim al-Harbi, student of Ahmad ibn Hanbal. Ibn Taymiyyah quotes his stirring words:
“The wise of every nation have agreed: Bliss is not attained through bliss.” — Qa‘idah fi’l-Mahabbah, 2/393
Al-Khatib al-Baghdadi narrated a longer version where Imam al-Harbi recounts personal hardships—not merely enduring them, but being so indifferent to them that he never even spoke of them:
“For 45 years I suffered from migraines, and never told anyone. I lived on two loaves a day—if my mother or sister brought them, I ate. If not, I went hungry until the next night. One heel of my shoe was cut, the other intact—I walked all over Baghdad that way and never thought of fixing it.” — Tarikh Baghdad, 6/522
This rare lifestyle—total dedication to lofty goals, total disregard for hardship—is one few in history can sustain.
Later scholars echoed the wisdom of al-Harbi. Ibn al-Qayyim said:
“All intelligent people agree: exertion in pursuit of personal excellence is praiseworthy. The more one struggles, the greater one’s status.” — Shifa’ al-‘Alil, p. 449
If you’re pacing in your local mosque, reviewing a text... or buried under reference books mid-research... or standing in the field of da’wah... then sleep tugs at your eyelids, or a friend invites you out—pause and remember the words of Ibrahim al-Harbi:
“Bliss is not attained through bliss.”
You’ll feel your drive revive.
This rule of toil-for-gain applies even to worldly pleasures like wealth, fame, and power. Ibn Taymiyyah said:
“Worldly delights are rarely attained without some hardship.” — Majmu‘ al-Fatawa, 20/146
To endure such hardship, one must recall the end result—the sweet fruit at the journey’s end. Ibn al-Jawzi beautifully said:
“Keep your eyes on the dawn of reward, and the night of burden will seem light.” — al-Mudhish, p. 295
Does the Qur’an and Sunnah mention this idea? Yes—repeatedly. Most famously, the Prophet ﷺ said:
“Paradise is surrounded by hardships.” — Sahih Muslim
And again:
“This world is a prison for the believer.” — Sahih Muslim
Compare the descriptions of people in Paradise versus people in Hell. The former toiled through long nights, as Allah says:
“They used to sleep but little by night.” — [al-Dhariyat: 17]
While the latter lived in luxury:
“They used to be indulged in ease and comfort.” — [al-Waqi‘ah: 45]
When the people of Paradise arrive, the angels greet them with:
“Peace be upon you for what you patiently endured.” — [al-Ra‘d: 24]
The story of Prophet Nuh ﷺ, who called his people day and night for 950 years, also reflects this.
Above them all stands Muhammad ﷺ, whose entire mission was hardship upon hardship until Allah granted him victory. Ibn al-Qayyim said:
“The best ends are buried within the most difficult beginnings.” — Ighathat al-Lahfan, 2/817
Poets captured this truth too. Abu Tammam said:
“I saw that supreme ease is never reached except over a bridge of toil.”
And again:
“The sweetest sleep I’ve ever had was only earned by sleepless nights.”
Al-Mutanabbi mirrored this:
“Were it not for hardship, all people would be noble.”
“If souls are lofty in ambition, their bodies will suffer in pursuit.”
“You seek honey sweet and pure? Then brace for the sting of bees.”
This pattern is universal, timeless, undeniable.
A final clarification: does this mean we must seek out hardship? No. Scholars distinguish between two kinds of hardship:
Incidental hardship—that which naturally comes with worship or purpose. This is rewarded.
Self-imposed hardship—pointless suffering, with no added benefit. This is blameworthy.
The Prophet ﷺ said to ‘A’ishah regarding Umrah:
“Your reward is according to your hardship.” — Bukhari and Muslim
But when he saw an old man dragging himself due to a vow to walk to Makkah, he said:
“Allah has no need for this man to punish himself.” — Bukhari
Thus, toil is praiseworthy when it’s part of the path, not when artificially added.
This essay arose from a sense—growing in myself and many of my brothers—that while we plan ambitious dreams in knowledge, da’wah, reform, and revival, our current lifestyle—luxury, excess rest, idle speech, entertainment—is misaligned with our goals.
I fear that if we don’t step onto the bridge of toil soon, we may one day find that life has ended—and none of our dreams have come true. And what a bitter disappointment that would be.
O Allah, have mercy on Yahya ibn Abi Kathir who said: “Knowledge is not attained with bodily comfort.”
And have mercy on Ibrahim al-Harbi who said: “Bliss is not attained through bliss.”
And peace and blessings be upon our Prophet Muhammad, his family, and companions.
