Jinns: A Deep Exploration of Coexisting With the Unseen
Entry 1: First Encounters
I never believed in jinn until I lived in a house where they made their presence known every night. It started with small things—a chair slightly out of place, a faint whisper when no one else was home, the sensation of being watched in empty rooms. At first, I dismissed it as imagination. But when my keys disappeared from the kitchen table only to reappear in the bathroom sink, untouched by human hands, I could no longer deny that something beyond my understanding shared this space with me.
In my culture, we grew up hearing about jinn, but they were always spoken of in hushed tones, as if saying too much might invite their attention. Now, I understand why. They are real, and they are everywhere—especially in the heat of the desert, in abandoned ruins, and in the quiet corners of old homes.
Entry 2: What Are Jinn?
From what I’ve gathered through texts, oral traditions, and my own experiences, jinn are beings made of smokeless fire, as described in the Quran. Unlike angels, they possess free will, just like humans. Some are righteous, some mischievous, and a few are outright malevolent. They live in a world parallel to ours, overlapping in places where the veil between dimensions is thin—deserts, caves, and sometimes even homes where they’ve been allowed to stay for generations.
Ancient Arab scholars wrote extensively about them. Ibn Taymiyyah, a 14th-century Islamic theologian, spoke of jinn as creatures with societies, religions, and even kings. Some follow Islam, others adhere to older beliefs, and a few reject faith entirely. They can shapeshift, move at incredible speeds, and influence human thoughts—though possession is rare and usually requires an invitation, whether intentional or through recklessness.
Entry 3: The Heat of Their Presence
One thing I’ve noticed is that jinn thrive in extreme heat. The desert is their domain, where the scorching sun and the vast emptiness create the perfect environment for them. Bedouins have long known this, whispering warnings about traveling alone at midday or setting up camp in certain dunes. Even in cities, jinn prefer warm places—boiler rooms, attics, and abandoned buildings where the air is thick and still.
I once spoke to an old man in Morocco who claimed his family had a jinn servant passed down through generations. He said the being would help with household chores but demanded respect—never to be thanked directly, never to be ordered around arrogantly. "They are not slaves," he told me. "They are allies, but only if you treat them as equals."
Entry 4: The Wealthy and Their Invisible Assistants
There’s a rumor, whispered in certain circles, that many of the ultra-rich in the Middle East don’t achieve their success through luck or hard work alone. Some say they employ jinn to gather secrets, influence people, or even manipulate financial markets. I used to dismiss this as superstition, but after my own experiences, I’m no longer so sure.
A businessman in Dubai once confessed to me (after much wine) that his grandfather had made a pact with a jinn. The conditions were simple: the jinn would ensure the family’s wealth remained intact, but in return, they had to leave a portion of their earnings in a locked room every full moon. No one was allowed to watch where the money went. When I asked if he believed it, he shrugged. "All I know is that every time we skipped the ritual, something went wrong—a deal fell through, an investment failed. Call it what you want, but I don’t take chances anymore."
Entry 5: Respect, Not Fear
The biggest lesson I’ve learned is that jinn respond to energy. Fear attracts the wrong kind—the ones who enjoy causing chaos. But respect? That keeps things balanced.
In my home, I’ve developed small rituals to maintain harmony. I recite protective verses from the Quran before sleeping. I avoid leaving shoes upside down (they say it offends them). I never shout in anger when alone, because you’re never truly alone. And most importantly, I acknowledge their presence without obsession.
There was one night when I woke to the sound of my books being rearranged. Instead of panicking, I simply said aloud, "Leave them in order, please." The rustling stopped. The next morning, the books were neatly aligned.
Entry 6: When Jinn Become Family
Some families, especially in remote villages, have jinn that have lived with them for centuries. These aren’t haunted houses—they’re shared spaces. An elderly woman in Yemen once told me her home had a jinn that protected the children. "If a stranger with bad intentions enters, the jinn warns us," she said. "Sometimes by moving furniture, sometimes in dreams."
I asked if she’d ever seen it. She smiled. "No. But my grandmother did. She described him as a tall man with eyes like embers. He never spoke, but he didn’t need to."
Entry 7: The Dark Side
Not all jinn are benign. There are stories of people who’ve been driven to madness by constant harassment—objects thrown at them, whispers in their ears, nightmares that feel too real. Islamic exorcisms (ruqyah) exist for a reason.
But even then, the key is understanding, not blind fear. Jinn attack when provoked—when humans trespass into their territories without permission, when they’re disrespected, or when someone dabbles in dark magic trying to control them.
Final Entry: A World We Share
Living with jinn has taught me that the unseen world is far more complex than we imagine. They are not monsters, nor are they angels. They are beings with their own rules, their own hierarchies, and their own reasons for interacting (or not interacting) with us.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: they were here before us, and they’ll be here after. The best we can do is live alongside them with caution, respect, and an open mind. Because sometimes, the most extraordinary truths are the ones we cannot see.
Approach everything with positivity, respect, and curiosity. don't put your own belief systems on these beings or any other beings and that is how you can invoke and maybe even Alchemize their existence in your own world