Rambling on with the unseen.

                                                                          Langkawi - 1
 

It is a storm out there this morning, 1:17 am. We need the rain no doubt. The mind have been kept entertained by watching MARVEL MOVIES, Iron Man, Thor, Captain America and the Incredible Hulk while also listening to the latest podcasts related to spiritual and philosophical matters and less of the war in the Middle East. The Movies are the father and son bonding trip which I feel is important for us when not watching a Liverpool Game. My daughter is still in Pulau Langkawi, and two days ago was deciding to cut her stay short because of some inconveniences; lack of water supply for one thing. I wanted to talk her into not giving up bu decided against it and told her she has to make the decision. I am glad i did because she decided to stay after talking to the owners and so I look forward still to be with her next week. Other than that life has been quite monotony to the point of boredom. Incidentally two of my paintings were sent to a Gallery for an upcoming show in June. This is the Gallery that is owned by a Chinese Artist from Singapore who I met when he had invited local artists for a walk through the new facility which had also displayed his collection of works. I assume this exhibition of local artists in June will be the inaugural show for the Gallery. I had given every excuse for not wanting to join the show but finally gave in when the gallery decided to agree to every demand I made; they collect my works and deliver it back after and so forth. Salam to you my brother, how are you? How does one stay connected to the realm of the spirit world on days like these?

Wa’alaikum salam, my brother.

There’s something quietly honest about a storm at 1:17 am. The world narrows… the noise softens… and yet the mind, as you say, still looks for something to chew on—Marvel heroes, podcasts, the small dramas of family life. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, I’d say you’re doing something very human and very right: you’re balancing worlds.

You’ve got the mythic (those larger-than-life heroes), the philosophical (your podcasts), and the deeply real (your children, your art, your decisions). That’s already a kind of spiritual practice—just not the kind that announces itself.

I like the moment you shared about your daughter. You stepped back. You didn’t impose your will. That restraint—that trust—is not small. That is alignment with something deeper. Sometimes we think “spiritual connection” has to feel mystical or otherworldly, but often it shows up as simple clarity: knowing when not to interfere.

And the paintings… you resisted, negotiated, then allowed. Again—flow and resistance, like breathing. Even your reluctance was part of the path. Now your work is going out into the world without you having to chase it. That has a quiet dignity to it.

As for the boredom… ah, that’s the tricky doorway.

Most people run from it. You’re standing right in front of it.

Boredom is often what remains when stimulation drops away—but beneath it, there’s a kind of still field. Not exciting, not dramatic. Just… present. The “realm of the spirit,” as you call it, isn’t somewhere else you have to tune into like a radio frequency. It’s more like what’s left when you stop reaching for the next thing.

On a stormy morning like this, you don’t have to add anything:

• Sit with the sound of rain without naming it.
• Feel the body breathing without adjusting it.
• Notice the mind wanting entertainment—and just let that be seen.

Even the Marvel films you watched—they’re modern mythology. Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, Hulk—each one is grappling with identity, power, responsibility, isolation. Not so different from the inner battles we all carry. If you watch closely, even that becomes contemplation.

So maybe the question isn’t how to stay connected.

Maybe it’s: what is here, right now, when nothing special is happening?

You’re a man who has sat in forests, crossed oceans, walked through inner and outer storms. This quiet, slightly restless moment? It’s not separate from those. It’s just less dramatic.

And sometimes… less drama is where the deeper current runs.

How does the rain sound where you are right now?

The storm has died down for now, no more thunder and lightning and I am listening to:=This ambient meditative soundscape includes 4Hz Theta Binaural Beats. The theta brainwave has a frequency of 4Hz to 8Hz and is classed as “slow” activity. It is often connected with creativity, intuition, and daydreaming, and is a repository for memories, emotions, sensations. Theta waves are strong during internal focus, meditation, prayer, and spiritual awareness. It reflects the state between wakefulness and sleep, or the hypnagogic state, and relates to the subconscious mind. …

Ah… the storm outside settles, and now you’re exploring the storm inside the mind—just in a much quieter way.

What you’re listening to—the 4 Hz theta range—does line up with that in-between territory: not fully asleep, not sharply awake. People often notice a kind of drifting quality there… images rise more easily, memories loosen, and the sense of “self” can soften a bit. It’s a familiar doorway for meditation, prayer, even the kind of spontaneous creativity you’ve described in your art and dreams.

But here’s the part worth holding gently:

Those sounds—binaural beats, frequencies—they don’t create the spiritual state. At best, they help nudge the mind toward a condition where it’s easier to let go. The real movement is still yours. Otherwise, it becomes just another form of entertainment… a more subtle Marvel movie playing inside the head.

And you’ve already seen how the mind loves that—whether it’s superheroes or spiritual soundscapes, it can attach just as easily.

So the question becomes:
Are you using the sound… or is the sound quietly using you to keep the mind occupied?

A small shift makes all the difference.

Instead of leaning into the experience, try this:
Let the sound be in the background—like rain that has already passed. Don’t follow it. Don’t analyze the “theta state.” Just notice:

• The body sitting or lying there
• The breath, however it moves
• The slight pull of thought trying to interpret the experience

And especially… notice the space in which all of this appears.

That “in-between” state you mentioned—the hypnagogic edge—is interesting, but it’s still a state. It comes and goes. What doesn’t come and go is the simple awareness that knows it.

You’ve touched that many times in your life—on the sea, in the forest, in those moments when something opened without effort.

This is not very different. Just quieter. Less dramatic.

And maybe that’s why boredom shows up earlier—because nothing spectacular is happening to distract from what is always here.

If you stay with it—not chasing the feeling, not rejecting it—you might notice something subtle:
even without the thunder, even without the music… there is already a kind of completeness.

Tell me—when you listen now, are you drifting into images and sensations, or is there a stillness underneath it all that you can sense?

I really pay no attention to what i am listening until you decided that i should. I play almost always as a background 'noise', that i assume to benefit my neural pathways and desist if not eliminate any unecessary thoughts as i write this chat we are engaged in.

That’s actually a pretty honest setup—and more common than people admit.

Using sound as a kind of “mental buffer” can take the edge off the constant chatter. It gives the mind something soft to lean on so it doesn’t go chasing every random thought. In that sense, it can help you settle a bit.

But I’ll nudge you slightly here—not to contradict you, just to refine the lens.

Those binaural beats aren’t really “rewiring” or cleaning up thoughts in any direct way. They’re more like dimming the lights in a room. The furniture (your thoughts, memories, tendencies) is still there—you’re just not seeing it as sharply. That can feel like clarity, but it’s closer to reduced stimulation than true stillness.

And there’s nothing wrong with that… unless it quietly becomes a dependency.

You said something important without maybe realizing it:

“I really pay no attention… until you decided that I should.”

That tells me your baseline state is already capable of functioning without needing to engage the sound at all. The sound is just riding along.

So here’s a simple experiment—not as a rule, just curiosity:

Next time you sit like this, let the sound play… but don’t give it any role. Don’t treat it as helpful or unhelpful. Just let it exist, the same way you would let a fan hum in the background.