Ṭalab: Seeking
Attar calls the quest the first stretch of the road. Something you have only heard about lodges in you and will not sit still, and more secondhand detail only sharpens the itch. The pull quiets only when a person has gone the distance and stood in front of the thing without anyone in between.
News is not like seeing with your own eyes: hearing leaves you outside
The Prophet's saying puts plainly what most people half know already. Someone else's account is still their words, and a person holds back a portion of belief without meaning to. The gap that even careful description leaves stays open until you are standing there, and then the held-back part lets go.
Dhawq: Tasting
Al-Ghazali uses tasting for what a person learns only by having it happen to them. Someone can carry a correct description around for years and still stand outside it, the way a sober person can define drunkenness. The meeting itself adds no new facts, and yet every account heard beforehand suddenly feels thin.
Ḥayra: Bewilderment
Ibn Arabi treats astonishment as a high place on the road, not a stumble or a failure of understanding. You arrive with expectations cut to the size of a report, and what stands there overflows them until you have nothing to say. The blankness comes from a person stretching to hold something larger than the shape they had ready.
Being unable to take it in is itself taking it in: the shortfall is what you learn
Abu Bakr said this, and al-Ghazali kept repeating it for centuries after. When something far outruns its description, the honest response is to admit you cannot get to the bottom of it. A person ends up knowing the size of it by how far all the words fell short.