Every Wednesday, after a series of hard spars, I come home to nurse a bruised body in preparation for much the same the coming week.
And as I limp between each session, I think, "Am I like the man who drinks for a moment's pleasure to be drunk and foolhardy an entire night?"
But then I look to the grossly out of shape worshipper and think, "How can a man, losing battle with his visible body, expect to approach mastery of his hidden Nafs?"
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