Cultivating Ikhlas in Daily Life

Ikhlas does not develop spontaneously; it must be actively cultivated through deliberate practices, sustained self-examination, and the kind of spiritual companionship that encourages honest self-knowledge. In this concluding chapter, Ibn Rajab turns from the theoretical and diagnostic to the practical: how does the Muslim believer actually cultivate and deepen sincerity in their daily religious life?

The first and most essential practice is the examination of intention (muhasabat al-niyyah) before undertaking any significant act of worship or good deed. Islamic scholars have recommended pausing before acts of worship — even briefly — to ask oneself: Why am I doing this? Who am I doing this for? Is there any desire for recognition, status, or reward from people mixed into my intention? This examination does not need to produce certainty or paralyze action; its purpose is to bring the intention into consciousness so that it can be directed deliberately toward Allah. Ibn Rajab quotes the practice of the companions of the Prophet, who were known to pray: 'O Allah, I intend such-and-such — accept it from me and purify it.'

A related practice is the deliberate cultivation of hidden good deeds — acts of worship and charity performed in complete privacy, with no possibility of human observation. Night prayer, private dhikr, anonymous charity, hidden fasting, secret supplication — these practices are the gymnasium of ikhlas, because they train the heart to find its satisfaction in Allah's knowledge rather than in human recognition. The classical scholars considered that a person who has no hidden devotional life — no acts of worship that only Allah knows about — should seriously question the quality of their relationship with Allah.

Ibn Rajab discusses the importance of not announcing good deeds. While there are situations in which making good deeds known is appropriate — such as when it encourages others or fulfills a public obligation — the default disposition of the sincere Muslim is privacy. When one is tempted to mention a good deed one has done, to drop hints about one's night prayers or charitable giving, to maneuver conversations so that one's piety becomes visible, these impulses should be recognized as symptoms of the desire for human recognition and resisted.

The quality of one's private character is also a measure of sincerity. The person who is patient and kind when observed but irritable and selfish in private has revealed that their visible good character was performance rather than reality. Ikhlas demands that one's best behavior be directed toward the unseen Observer — that one treats one's household with more kindness than one shows to strangers, that one's honesty is most scrupulous when there are no witnesses, that one's patience is deepest when there is no audience to be impressed by it.

The role of dua in cultivating ikhlas deserves emphasis. Ibn Rajab notes that the Prophet taught specific supplications for protection from riya and from deeds performed for the sake of people. Regularly asking Allah to purify one's intentions is not a sign of doubt about one's sincerity but of mature spiritual self-knowledge. The believer who asks Allah for ikhlas acknowledges both their need and their trust in Allah's ability to grant what they cannot generate entirely through their own efforts.

Finally, ibn Rajab addresses the importance of remembering death and the Day of Judgment as a constant purifier of intentions. When one genuinely contemplates standing before Allah and presenting one's deeds, the question of whether those deeds were performed for Allah or for people becomes acutely urgent. Death strips away every audience except the One that ultimately matters. The believer who keeps this reality present — who lives, as the Prophet counseled, with abundant remembrance of death — will find that worldly motivations for worship gradually lose their pull, and the heart becomes increasingly free to worship Allah for Allah alone.