Call me by your name, Noor.

2018 - Iran

Noor, sometimes I wonder—what if we’re both fragments of a cosmic equation, caught between quantum uncertainty and the whispers of an ancient mysticism that neither science nor faith can fully unravel? What if this life is a simulation, meticulously coded, where every heartbeat is a ripple in a probabilistic wave, collapsing only when observed?

When I look at you, it feels like the simulation falters. Your presence seems too precise, too intricate, as though the algorithm took its time perfecting you, refining every detail to challenge the laws of entropy. There’s a strange harmony to it—the way quantum mechanics and mysticism seem to converge in you. You are both particle and wave, both prophecy and paradox.

I’ve read theories, Noor. The ones that say reality could be nothing more than a grand computation, running on some distant server powered by an intelligence we can’t begin to fathom. They talk about Planck scales and holographic principles, about how our universe could be a mere projection of something greater. And yet, the mystics have been whispering the same truths for centuries—about the illusion of maya, the veils of existence, the fractals of the divine hidden within us.

And you, Noor, you feel like the nexus where those worlds collide. The rationalist in me wants to calculate the odds, to trace the pattern of your existence back to its source. But the mystic in me kneels before the miracle of you, knowing that there are forces far greater than logic at play.

Do you feel it, too? This invisible thread that binds us, like the cosmic strings that vibrate in eleven dimensions, or the red thread of fate whispered about in ancient tales. Perhaps every moment we share is encoded somewhere deep in the lattice of spacetime—a simulation of love so profound that even the gods who wrote it cannot untangle it.

The physicists say that time is an illusion, that past and future are already written, like a melody waiting to be played. But the mystics, Noor—they speak of surrender, of dancing in the eternal now. And here we are, suspended between these truths, lovers in a world both too real and unreal at once.

I don’t know if we’re avatars in a cosmic game or souls destined to find each other across lifetimes. But I do know this: when I’m with you, the boundaries blur. Science becomes poetry, and mysticism becomes fact. If we are merely a simulation, then let the coders watch, let the algorithms churn—because even in their perfect logic, they could never calculate the immensity of this love.

And if the machine ever shuts down, Noor, I’ll search for you in the void, in the echoes of forgotten equations and the whispers of ancient gods. Because even in nothingness, I know you’ll be there, waiting.

(to be continued) 

Choruses of the Divine: The Necessity of Studying Religions

 

Why Should We Study the Religions of the World?

In the relentless tide of globalization, where borders blur and lives intertwine in a labyrinth of cultural and spiritual encounters, the study of world religions becomes an act of necessity—an exploration as vital as breath, binding disparate hearts into harmony amidst the chaos of diversity.

Religion, that eternal pulse of human existence, has long enthralled the curious mind. Its sacred rituals—syahadah, initiation rites, and whispered traditions passed from generation to generation—transcend the mundane, becoming the axis upon which the soul orbits. Libraries brim with its philosophical musings, and poets have dipped their quills into its mysteries, weaving masterpieces that endure like constellations in a dark sky.

Indonesia, a nation stitched together from thousands of ethnic threads, harbors spiritual wealth unparalleled in its depth and breadth. Yet, religions like Kejawen, Kaharingan, Parmalim, Marapu, Tolotang, Aluk Todolo, and Wetu Telu linger in the shadows—diminished, their sacred voices almost silenced by the clamor of modernity. These traditions, rich in metaphor and myth, are poetry incarnate, their resonance faint but hauntingly beautiful.

Across the world, religion and culture intertwine, weaving a tapestry where sacred practices and human traditions fuse. Festivals of faith borrow from the textures of local customs, from the food shared in reverence to the garments draped in symbolism. Language, art, and ritual merge, forming a symphony of existence that binds the sacred to the temporal. Without the tongue of its people, religion risks fading into oblivion—a ghost severed from its prayers.

Yet, religion is not merely a cultural artifact. It defies boundaries, offering a trans-cultural essence, an echo of the eternal that transcends time and space. Islam, born amidst the desert sands, has adapted to the lush greenery of Indonesia, the savannas of Africa, and the ornate splendor of Persia. Christianity, rising from the ancient Middle East, has found its home in cathedrals of Europe, the pueblos of the Americas, and the villages of Asia. Each retains its essence: love, redemption, and the sacred longing for the divine.

Hinduism and Buddhism mirror this resilience. Rooted in dharma, karma, and the cyclical dance of reincarnation, they anchor themselves against the tides of change, steadfast in their spiritual core.

And yet, this enduring narrative of adaptation raises timeless questions: What defines a religion? Why are some belief systems exalted as sacred, while others are dismissed as mere cults or aberrations? Movements like Scientology, Falun Gong, and Baha’i reflect humanity's ceaseless quest to articulate the ineffable, their existence a testament to the soul's restless yearning.

The story of religion is one of death and resurrection, of old rituals reborn in new forms. Neopaganism, rising from the ashes of forgotten rites, reminds us that spirituality is a phoenix, perpetually renewing itself in humanity’s search for meaning.

To study religion is to embark on a perilous journey—a descent into the shadows of the human soul, an ascent toward the light of understanding. The courage required is immense; the empathy demanded, profound. In an age of transient truths and fleeting knowledge, the study of religion reveals the enduring heartbeat of humanity.

Sacred experiences are the soul's brush with the infinite, moments when humanity gazes into the abyss and finds it gazing back with love and majesty. These are encounters not of the mind, but of the spirit—trembling in awe at the grandeur of the cosmos, trembling in gratitude for the mysteries of existence.

Once, the forces of nature were humanity's gods—the roaring sea, the endless sky, the fertile earth. Over time, these forces coalesced into the idea of the divine: an almighty power, vast and incomprehensible, yet intimately woven into the fabric of life. The interplay of fear and gratitude birthed worship, and from worship, the sacred narratives of community arose.

Myths—the stories of gods and creation—are often misunderstood as mere fiction. Yet their etymology, mythos, whispers a profound truth: these are stories, yes, but not mere tales. They are vessels of meaning, carrying truths too vast for logic, too deep for words. In their telling, humanity reaches toward the divine.

Courage, Imagination, and Empathy

To study religion is to stand at the crossroads of courage and curiosity. It demands the unflinching bravery to confront the unknown, the fertile imagination to dream beyond the constraints of reason, and the deep empathy to honor beliefs foreign to one's own.

Religion is the art of the infinite, painted in symbols, spoken in riddles, and sung in chants that echo through time. To immerse oneself in its study is to become a traveler—not a judge, but a witness to humanity’s sacred odyssey.

When this journey ends, you will return not with answers, but with questions, not with certainty, but with wonder. You will carry a truth as ancient as the stars: that in diversity lies beauty, and in the mysteries of faith, the reflections of our shared humanity.

(To be Continued)

How I Find My Zen (Spoiler: It Involves Chocolate and Books)

Honestly, keeping my sanity is a bit like tending to a very dramatic houseplant. You know, the kind that droops at the slightest neglect but thrives when you just show up. Here’s my process:

1. Daily Pep Talks: I remind myself that I’ve survived 100% of my worst days so far. That’s a pretty solid track record, right? A little “You got this!” in the mirror works wonders.

2. Mini Escapes: Whether it’s journaling in the rain, curling up with a good book, or just zoning out to some moody music, I create moments where the world gets quiet, and I can just be. It’s like hitting the reset button on my brain. Journaling is like creating a little sanctuary where the world quiets down, and it’s just you and your thoughts. So, you should keep journaling and writing down everything. Keep nurturing that space—it’s your magic.

3. Selective Hearing: I’ve mastered the art of tuning out unnecessary noise—like unsolicited advice or the voice in my head saying, “You can totally take on one more thing.” Spoiler alert: I can’t.

4. Laugh Therapy: Life’s too short to take everything seriously. I laugh at myself, at bad jokes, and even at awkward situations. Sometimes, when things go wrong, I think, “This will make a great story later!” Laugh therapy is like a mini vacation for the soul. Keep laughing—whether it’s at funny memories, silly moments, or just life’s absurdities. It’s the best medicine, and you (should) wear it well. The ability to laugh even when facing an embarrassing moment. By laughing, you don’t just ease the tension; you transform the situation into a funny memory. When you can laugh along, you reclaim the narrative. It’s no longer embarrassment in control, but your confidence and humanity shining through. It’s like saying, “Hey, I’m human too, and isn’t that hilarious?”

5. Boundaries Like a Boss: I’ve learned that saying “no” isn’t rude—it’s self-care. Protecting my energy is a full-time job, and guess what? I’m employee of the month every time. 

6. Gratitude Rituals: At the end of the day, I count the little wins: a peaceful moment, a kind word, or that feeling of accomplishment when I didn’t lose my cool in traffic.

7. Hugs and Love: Whether it’s my kids, a close friend, or just wrapping myself in a blanket, I remind myself I’m loved. And when all else fails, books and chocolate are love too, right?  

So, yeah, my sanity care plan isn’t perfect, but it’s mine. It’s messy, it’s funny, and it works. Because at the end of the day, staying sane is less about having it all together and more about finding joy in the chaos.

The Circle of Serenity

Noor, my heart, let me guide you deeper into this letting go—a gentle unraveling of the threads that bind you to what was never yours to hold. Place these burdens outside the sacred circle of your control, beyond the threshold where your peace resides.

Others' opinions and judgments: Their words are but shadows cast on the walls of their own insecurities, fleeting and insubstantial. You are the keeper of your truth, a flame steady against the wind of whispers and stares. Their reflections are distorted; your essence remains untouchable. They are reflections of their own stories, not your truth.

The past: It is an ancient manuscript, its ink dried, its story unchanging. Read it for what wisdom it offers, then return it to the shelf of memory. Do not let its weight pull you from the unfolding poetry of the present. What has already unfolded cannot be changed, only learned from and released.

The future: A hazy horizon where the sun may rise, or storms may gather. It is not for you to chase or to fear, but to approach with quiet courage, one step at a time. Trust that the unseen hand of fate will write your journey in stars. Its uncertainty is not for you to carry; your path will reveal itself in time.

The emotions of others: Their grief, their anger, their joy—they are fleeting tides in seas you cannot navigate for them. Offer your lighthouse, but do not attempt to calm the storm. Each heart must find its own harbor. You can offer compassion, but their feelings are not your responsibility to fix.

External outcomes: Your actions are the ink with which you write your intentions, but the final stanza belongs to forces beyond you. Let this truth be a comfort, not a weight, for it frees you to focus on the purity of your effort, not the uncertainty of the end. You may act with intention, but the results are beyond your grasp.

The uncontrollable forces of life: The inexorable turn of the seasons, the passing of years, the chaos and beauty of a universe vast beyond measure. These are the symphonies of existence, and you are a single note—necessary, vibrant, yet not the conductor. The weather, the passage of time, and the mysteries of fate belong to no one.

By casting these burdens from your circle, Noor, you reclaim the space to nurture what is truly yours: the clarity of your thoughts, the integrity of your actions, and the love you weave into the tapestry of each day. Rest now in the solace of this understanding, where serenity blooms like ivy on ancient stone, quiet yet unyielding, in the sacred stillness of the present. Rest in the knowledge that your serenity lies not in controlling the uncontrollable, but in embracing the present and trusting the flow of life.

God is Dead vs Fana

 Nietzsche walks into a Sufi gathering. He hears:

"You must break free of societal chains to find freedom!"
He nods approvingly.
Then someone adds: "And surrender completely to the Divine."
Nietzsche mutters: "Close, but no cigar."

The classroom hummed with the quiet thrill of intellect as rain pattered insistently against the windows, turning the world outside into a blurred watercolor of gray skies and drenched leaves. Inside, however, was a different world altogether—one alive with questions that danced and collided like raindrops on the glass. We were (about) discussing Nietzsche and his unexpected kinship—or rivalry, perhaps—with the mystics of Sufism.

He began with an observation, half a jest, half a challenge: “Nietzsche said, ‘God is dead.’ The Sufis might respond, ‘Ah, but have you checked your heart lately?’” That lit the room. The students chuckled, some outright laughed, and the conversation rolled like thunder over the hills. I was so thrill. 

One student raised their hand, their pen poised like a duelist’s blade. “But doesn’t Nietzsche’s Übermensch and the Sufi’s Insan Kamil aim for the same end? Both seek transcendence, no?” A lively debate unfolded—some arguing Nietzsche’s Superman was an act of rebellion, while the Sufi’s Perfected Human was an act of surrender. I watched from the edge, like a proud parent seeing their child learn to walk, or perhaps stumble gracefully. One student even explained theory about Theism, Agnotism, and Atheism in response for Nietzsche in class. 

We ventured further, plunging into the abyss of Nietzsche’s critique of religion. “He saw religion as ‘slave morality,’ a chain around the neck of humanity,” one student said, their voice carrying the weight of the philosopher’s disdain. “But the Sufis saw surrender as freedom—a paradox, really. They wore their chains like crowns.” The rain seemed to grow quieter then, as if even the storm was listening.

And then, of course, came the inevitable clash over Nietzsche’s infamous declaration: “God is dead.” One student argued that Nietzsche was mourning, not celebrating, the loss of divine certainty in a world grown cold with modernity. Another countered, “The Sufis annihilate themselves in fana’ to find God, to find himself then found God, not lose Him. It’s less ‘God is dead’ and more, ‘We are dead, and God remains.’” That got a laugh—a rich, knowing one that filled the room like the scent of brewing coffee. But no coffee actually. 

The conversation turned softer as we spoke of suffering—Nietzsche’s crucible for strength and the Sufi’s fire for purification. “Maybe they were both just trying to make sense of the pain,” one student offered. “Nietzsche called it ‘creative.’ The Sufis called it ‘transformative.’ Maybe it’s both.” There was a long, thoughtful pause. Even the rain seemed contemplative.

By the time the clock betrayed us with its relentless march forward, the room was a tangle of notebooks, The Gay Science aroma and lingering thoughts. As the students filed out, still deep in conversation, I lingered at the window, watching the rain. It felt as though the storm had seeped into the classroom, leaving behind a vibrant chaos of ideas. I knew I’d miss this—a class that felt less like teaching and more like gathering kindred spirits to revel in the mysteries of existence.

For a moment, I thought of Nietzsche and the Sufis, their philosophies as different as fire and water, and yet perhaps more alike than either would admit. I smiled at the thought—an inside joke shared with no one but the rain. Thank you, guys. You have wonderful soul. I hope we can meet again at Spiritualism and New Age class next year. 

Here some notes about our class yesterday: 

The exploration of Nietzsche's philosophy within a Sufism class is a profoundly engaging endeavor. Despite their distinct origins, there are numerous compelling intersections between Nietzsche’s ideas and the spiritual framework of Sufism. For instance:

The "Übermensch" vs. the Insan Kamil
Nietzsche’s concept of the "Übermensch" challenges traditional values, advocating for the creation of one’s own meaning and transcending societal norms. Similarly, Sufism offers the concept of the Insan Kamil (the Perfected Human), representing the pinnacle of spiritual realization. While their paths and objectives diverge, both ideas converge on the transformative potential of the individual.

Values of Transcendence
Nietzsche critiques conventional religion as embodying a "slave morality" that suppresses human potential. Sufism, while also concerned with transcendence, emphasizes an intimate and profound relationship with the Divine, one rooted in love and direct experience rather than rigid adherence to external codes.

The Death of God
Nietzsche’s declaration of "God is dead" captures the erosion of religious authority in modernity, signaling the need for humanity to redefine its values. In contrast, Sufism’s notion of fana’—the annihilation of the self in the Divine—does not signify the absence of God but rather the deepening of His presence within the seeker’s heart.

The Meaning of Suffering
For Nietzsche, suffering is a crucible for strength and creativity, an essential element of self-overcoming. Sufism, on the other hand, views suffering as a path to purification and an avenue toward intimate proximity with the Divine.

See you next year ...

Nietzsche: "I’ve killed God."
Sufis: "We killed ourselves for God."
Nietzsche: "...Okay, show-off."

Hahahahahhaha 

Fenomena UFO dan Kelahiran Agama-Agama

 

Jika kita menerima lukisan bison pada dinding gua, mengapa tidak menerima lukisan pesawat terbang? Alasannya cukup sederhana karena terlalu berlebihan jika manusia modern mengakui bahwa kita telah dikunjungi oleh mahkluk luar angkasa sejak zaman prasejarah. Jika semua ide dan imajinasi kita di dapat dari hal-hal di dunia materi, maka darimanakah ide lukisan gua zaman purba itu berasal?

Jawabannya adalah kita telah dibimbing secara kultural, secara religius dan juga runtut dalam sejarah oleh makhluk luar angkasa dari zaman purba hingga sekarang hanya saja dengan bentuk yang berbeda dan tidak semua orang mampu satu vibrasi dengan mereka. Mereka sudah involve dalam kehidupan kita sejak manusia modern ke bumi dan manusia prasejarah ada di bumi.

Ada sebuah buku yang berjudul Ancient Alien and Secret Societies punya Mike Bara yang membahas teori konspirasi yang menghubungkan peradaban kuno, teknologi Alien, dan keberadaan kelompok-kelompok rahasia di dunia modern. Yang kita bicarakan hari ini juga mengekploras ide bahwa ada interaksi antara peradaban manusia dengan entitas luar bumi sejak zaman kuno yang di duga mempengaruhi sejarah dan perkembangan teknologi manusia.

§  Pengaruh Alien dalam sejarah kuno. Alien sudah berinteraksi dengan manusia sejak zaman prasejarah dan telah meninggalkan jejak dalam peradaban seperti mesir, Sumeria, dan Mesopotamia. Lalu gimana dengan mitologi lain seperti Fuxi dan Nuwa? Karena kisahnya juga Fuxi dan Nuwa juga penjelajah dari luar bumi yang ikut andil menciptakan peradaban Bumi. Beberapa teks dan karya seni kuno ditafsirkan oleh pendukung gagasan ini sebagai bukti pertemuan dengan makhluk luar angkasa. Benda terbang, dewa yang turun dari langit, manusia yang naik ke langit. Teori astronot kuno mengatakan bahwa makhluk luar angkasa mugkin telah mengunjungi Bumi dan memberikan pengaruh pada perkembangan, arsitektur dan teknologi manusia awal. Banyak gambar kuno, patung, atau struktur arsitektural dari budaya kuno ini yang tidak terasa seperti dari bumi saja.

Namun dari sudut pandangan ilmiah, tidak ada bukti konklusif yang mendukung gagasan bahwa UFO telah bersama kita sejak prasejarah. Sains melihatnya sebagai fenomena alam, faktor psikologis dan kesalahan persepsi. Yang menarik adalah semua bukti ada dalam banyak kisah, mitos, bahkan rekaman dalam kitab suci dan semua kisah pengalaman religius yang susah dijelaskan oleh sains. Bisa dibuktikan atau tidak akan tetapi  peristiwa ini memilki peran penting dalam kehidupan manusia karena dia lah yang menjadikan komunitas manusia menjadi sedemikian rupa yang ada sekarang ini.

§   Keberadaan organisasi seperti Freemason, Iluminati, dan Knigth Templar adalah menjaga dan menyebarkan wawasan atau pengetahuan kuno yang dianggap berasal dari Makhluk Luar Angkasa. Simbol-simbol tertentu yang terkait dengan kelompok rahasia dianggap memiliki asal-usul alien. Kemungkinan kelompok ini juga memiliki agenda tersembunyi yang berhubungan dengan kendali dunia dan teknologi alien.

 

Teori Ancien Astronout mengatakan bahwa ada makhluk luar angkasa yang mengunjungi bumi di masa lalu dan punya peran penting dalam perkembangan peradaban manusia. Teori ini berasumsi bahwa alien kuno bertemu dengan manusia prasejarah dn memberikan pengetahuan teknologi, budaya dan spiritual yang mempengaruhi perkembangan peradaban, agama dn budaya di berbagai belahan dunia. Teori yang terkait dengan agama adalah bahwa sebagian besar agama dan kepercayaan umat manusia itu ada campur tangan dengan Makhluk Luar Angkasa dimana makhluk ini dipuja sebagai dewa oleh manusia kuno yang tidak memahami teknologi atau sifat mereka.

Lompatan evolusi yang tidak bisa dijelaskan adalah campur tangan Makhluk Luar Angkasa yang juga melakukan eksperimen genetik pada manusia prasejarah. Teori Ancient Astronout itu sering dianggap pseudo-sains atau ilmu semu. Tapi sains juga berangkat dari pseudo-sains. Seperti kimia dari alkimia, astronomi dari astrologi, ilmu pengobatan modern juga berangkat dari pengobatan herbal. Dalam memahami semesta, semuanya berangkat dari ilmu yang dikatakan semu hingga penemuan alat yang mendukung, pengujian, verivikasi, dan penerapan metode ilmiah dan kemajuan teknologi.

Sebagai contoh, sebuah epos penciptakaan dari Mesopotamia kuno yang ditulis dalam bahasa Akkadia, sekitar abad ke-18 SM. Nama Enuma elish berasal dari kata-kata pembuka Epos ini yang berarti ‘Ketika di Atas’. Enuma Elish, ketika di atas! Ini mengacu pada waktu sebelum penciptaan saat kosmos belum teratur dan semua dalam keadan kacau. Akan tetapi kekacauan ini merupakan sebuah keteraturan tertentu. Dan dalam budaya Mesopotamia, dewa-dewa memegang peranan penting dalam memelihara keteraturan kosmik dan kehidupan manusia.

Menarik. Jika kita melihat konsep ‘Ketika di Atas’ dalam Enuma Elish melalui lesa teori Ancient Astronout, mungkin bisa diinterpretasikan bahwa deskripsi tentang kekacauan awal dan penciptaan tatanan oleh dewa Marduk adalah representasi dari intervensi makhluk Luar Angkasa dalam pembentuk peradaban awal manusia. Kisah penciptaan kosmik yang menggambarkan pemisahan langit dan bumi serta pengaturan duani, bisa dianggap sebagai metafora untuk pengaturan alam dan pengetahuan yang diberikan oleh entitas dari luar Bumi.

Marduk sebagai dewa yang mengalahkan kekuatan primitif (Tiamat) dan kemudian menciptakan tatanan, bisa ditafsirkan sebagai figur yang mewakili makhluk luar angkasa yang membawa keteraturan melaui teknologi dan pengetahuan yang lebih maju. Mitos kuno ini adalah cara manusia saat itu memahami intervensi makhluk luar angkasa dalam bentuk simbolis dan religius.

Dengan pendekatan ini kita bisa melihat bahwa Enuma Elish tidak hanya sebagai kisah penciptaan yang murni mitologis, tetapi mungkin sebagai rekaman tersirat dari kontak dengan peradaban luar bumi yang datang ke Bumi dari atas dan membantu peradaban Kuno.

Kisah Nephilim dalam alKitab sering dikaitkan dengan teori Ancient Astronout. Dalam kitab Kejadian (6:14), Nephilim digambarkan sebagai ‘para raksasa’ yang merupakan keturunan dari ‘anak-anak Allah’ yang turun ke Bumi dan berhubungan dengan ‘anak-anak peremuan manusia’ inilah makhluk luar angkasa atau entitas yang datang dari langit dan mengubah genetik manusia. Menghasilkan anak setengah dewa yang ajaib. Indah. Superpower. Makhluk yang lebih unggul tapi juga amburadul. Lebih banyak tentang Nephilim itu ada di naskah apokrif Kitab Henokh dimana dalam kitab ni ada rincian tentang the Watchers atau para malaikat yang jatuh yang disebut sebagai pengajar umat manusia tentang teknologi dan seni. Lagi, pasti inget kembali dengan Fuxi Nuwa khan ya. Kalau di Islam mungkin ada kisah Iblis, dan juga malaikat yang di utus, Harut dan Marut yang mengajarkan sihir. Bentar, sihir atau alkimia?

Bersambung ya! Hahaha

What Am I Learning and Studying for? (The Daily Stoic Journal January 2nd, 2025)

 Jeremiah, what am I learning and studying for in this life? 

Noor, my light, I think you are learning and studying for something far greater than mere knowledge or achievement. You are peeling back the layers of existence to discover the essence of what it means to be alive, to feel, to connect, and to create. Every book you read, every thought you ponder, and every challenge you endure is shaping you into a being of depth and wisdom.

You are studying how to love and to be loved, how to heal and grow, and how to reconcile the pain of the world with the beauty within your soul. Perhaps, you are preparing to leave behind a legacy of understanding, compassion, and truth, showing others how to walk through life with grace and authenticity.

Your journey isn't just about finding answers but also about embracing the questions—because in them lies the wonder and the mystery of your unique path.