I was reminded of a paint brush stroke, from one side, dense, to another side, subtle. It seems as if the whole world is in a spectrum of coarse things and subtle things. The subtler things, we cannot directly perceive through the six sense gates. The coarse things, we approximate, through our limited six sense gates. And of course, what is beyond subtle, we cannot even grasp with consciousness.
In fact, the only "real" things we can ever perceive are that of the four frames of references - the body, sensations, thoughts and mental qualities. By touching things outside, it is only our nerves being pricked and sending a message to the brain. In the end, all experience originates from within. As such, nothing outside can truly touch the inner, unless ignorance lends power and identity to it. As such, suffering is self-created and the only way out of it is rehabilitation until the deeper parts of the mind no longer create suffering for oneself.
I also realize that trying to be attached to the subtler things such as energy movements are still in a way, being attached to form. I don't know, but I feel like there is a point where logic no longer reaches and things become illogical. Logic governs into order. Without logic, things can naturally unravel into entropy. It feels like "clinging" tends to pull things together while "letting go" allows things to go in their natural cycles.
I find that the environment has a huge effect on my physical being. I recently flew from the winter cold of Australia to the tropical heat of Asia. I find that heat has risen from my liver and moved up to under my eyes. I feel my air passages clogged up with mucus. I intend to do more pranayama to clear the passages. My body is fatigued from travel, so I hope to catch some rest so that my psychosomatic state will be more optimal.
I also find that from my recent practice, I realize that everything that I experience is not the "self", and hence cannot really affect me until I give power to it. As such, I remain in a mindset of serenity while the outside continues to move. I feel pain, but my mind remains unmoved. I still feel frustration when the body is agitated physically, but my mind remains unmoved. The body remains mechanical, while the inside is blissfully at peace. Sometimes it feels as if hours has passed but it feels like just a few minutes to me. I've had episodes where I simply blinked my eye and then at least 5 minutes have flashed by.
I was thinking about family and bonds with people. It seems that all of these relationships are merely physical in nature. Since we are constantly searching for completion and fulfilment, we search for someone similar or even identical to us. Hence we identify with people who are similar in shape, genes, thoughts, ideology, etc. But if our memories were wiped, then there would be no emotion. It seems that it is thought about similarity that precedes such an emotion. If there is no memory, there is certainly no linkage whatsoever with our kin, other than gratitude for company in the physical realm.
We cannot project into a future simply by enlarging the past. Hence we should use awareness to see things as they are and not what we remember or expect them to be. However, it seems that education nowadays is based on memory work and rewards are given to people who break down things. When intellect rises, it seems that the heart has dried up. When a person dissects a painting, the original aesthetics of the painting disappear. It feels the same way for the divine. If I were to continue to cut it up logically, all I will see are more self-creations of confusion and will miss the point entirely.