I’ve searched, and there is no slaughter house,
Big enough for my ego.
My vows change like petals falling off flowers,
I shed one set, for another set,
Never able to wrestle this rabid dog of a thing they call an ego.
The seven stages, like the seven heavens,
Like the seven seas, the seven wonders, the seven deadly sins,
There’s unwritten secrets in seven,
Twenty four seven, I’m daunted by it’s hovering.
The ever compelling,
And of the seven stages of nafs,
These are the teachings;
One is Demanding,
Two is Regretting,
Three is Inspiring,
Four is Comforting,
Five is Accepting,
Six is Blessing
Seven is Purifying.
But there is one more, unspoken finding,
It’s when you reach His spring,
It’s an unspoken thing,
Where no more talk of believing or unbelieving,
The sting, that presence brings,
It’s utter loving,
In Him, Nafs, ceasing,
The stages of the ego have been expounded on and taught for centuries by a select group of masters. There can be no modern equivalent of comprehensive purifying of the soul without devoting yourself to the compendium of works by these masters.
The above stages are translations from Arabic equivalents:
Al Nafs al Ammara
Al Nafs al Lawamma
Al Nafs al Mulhima
Al Nafs al Radiyya
Al Nafs al Mardiya
Al Nafs al Safiya
And there are stages in between them and after them.