Tasawwuf & the Naqshbandi Path

Alright, suppose I want to begin gently. What is the very first, smallest step onto this path, and is keeping a daily wird, a fixed portion of dhikr, an innovation or something the Prophet actually encouraged? As a woman with a home and children to care for, I wonder: is this inner path even open to me? Or does walking it mean I’d have to withdraw from my family and daily responsibilities? Can’t I just read books and fix my own heart by myself? Why does everyone insist I need a living Shaykh or guide to walk this path? Everyone keeps using this word ‘tasawwuf’, but honestly I don’t even know what it really is. Is it some separate mystical thing, or is it actually part of my ordinary Islam? I have a demanding career, bills, kids, a phone that never stops. Is the inner spiritual path realistically for someone like me, or do I have to abandon the modern world to get anywhere? I keep hearing that Sufism is against the Sharia, that these people bypass fiqh and do their own thing. Is tasawwuf really separate from, or opposed to, following the rules of Islam? I perform all my worship, but honestly it feels dry and mechanical, like there’s no taste or sweetness in it anymore. Is there a way to actually feel my faith again? I pray and fast, but inside I still carry envy, arrogance, and a love of being praised. Does Islam really have a way to actually cure these hidden diseases of the heart, or am I stuck with them? I’ve heard the accusation that Sufis get so lost in ecstasy and dhikr that they neglect the five daily prayers and the outward duties. Is that fear justified? I’ve noticed I become like whoever I spend time with. Does the company I keep really shape my heart that much, and is that why Sufis stress sitting with the righteous? If purifying the heart is so important, why didn’t the earliest Muslims have this whole system of tasawwuf? It feels like something added later, and that scares me as a possible innovation. In our gatherings I see people doing silent dhikr, remembering Allah quietly in the heart without moving the tongue. Where is the proof for this dhikr-e-khafi? I worry it might be a made-up practice. My heart feels hard, like a stone. I read the Qur’an and it doesn’t move me the way it should. Can constant dhikr really soften a heart that has gone cold? People tell stories of the awliya and their karamat, saints and miracles, and part of me dismisses it all as superstition. Are the ‘friends of Allah’ a real thing in Islam, or just folklore? The Naqshbandis speak of ‘Khalwat dar Anjuman’, being alone with Allah even in a crowd. But how can my heart possibly stay with Allah while I’m buried in meetings, markets, and traffic all day? There are so many Sufi orders. What exactly is this Naqshbandi-Mujaddidi path, and why do they place such importance on being connected through an unbroken chain going back to the Prophet? There’s a part of me, my nafs, that constantly pulls me toward laziness, anger, and desire, no matter how much I resist. Is fighting this inner self really a recognized struggle in Islam, or am I just weak? This idea of giving bay’ah, pledging yourself to a Shaykh by placing your hand in his, feels strange and new to me. Isn’t that an invented ritual with no basis in the Prophet’s time? This practice of muraqaba, sitting in silent contemplation and awareness of Allah, looks a lot like meditation from other religions. How is it any different, and how do I know it’s genuinely Islamic? When I see mureeds showing so much love and reverence for their Shaykh, kissing his hand and honoring him deeply, a fear grips me: isn’t this dangerously close to shirk? When I think of Sufis, I picture people who renounce the world, sit in shrines, and reject work and wealth. Is tasawwuf really about withdrawing from life and embracing poverty and idleness?