2026-07-19
I keep trying to reach a telepathic or psychic state, and most of the time I fail completely.
I meditate. I try during sleep, while falling asleep, and while coming out of sleep. I try to speak to spirits. I listen for an answer. Usually my mind is blank. I hear nothing. I receive nothing coherent. On some days there is a flood of impressions, but even then the communication is rarely clear. A precise exchange is extremely rare.
This creates a simple question. Why can some people apparently communicate easily, while other people can try repeatedly and receive almost nothing?
At first I considered several explanations. Maybe my physiology is wrong on that day. Maybe my brain is in an incoherent state. Maybe the analytical mind and the ego remain active even during meditation and dream states. Maybe the city environment is too polluted and noisy. Maybe the brain has been trained for rational control so strongly that it cannot release control even when ordinary consciousness becomes weaker.
Then a simpler answer appeared.
The main blockage may be hidden pain.
Opening activates pain
When consciousness becomes more coherent and open, unresolved trauma also becomes accessible.
The mind normally keeps much of this pain outside awareness. This is a protective function. When meditation, sleep, telepathic practice, or another altered state weakens the normal filters, the pain begins to enter.
The nervous system then learns a basic equation:
Opening equals pain.
As soon as the unusual state begins, the system closes it. The blank mind may therefore be an active defense. Nothing appears because the mind is preventing the opening that would also expose the pain.
A person may want telepathy consciously while resisting it subconsciously.
There may also be pain in the collective field. Opening consciousness may expose a person not only to personal trauma but also to the fear, anger, grief, and confusion carried by other people. The instinctive reaction is to close again.
This may explain why telepathic ability appears briefly and then disappears. The capacity is present, but remaining open is painful.
Desire creates pain
Pain is proportional to desire.
Desire gives positive value to one direction. Pain appears when reality moves in the opposite direction. The stronger the desire, the greater the possible pain.
This is the practical Buddhist mechanism. Buddhism reduces desire, attachment, preference, and emotional investment. When desire decreases, pain decreases. The person becomes less controlled by the difference between what is wanted and what is happening.
This makes openness easier. Experience can move through consciousness without constantly colliding with resistance.
The process eventually includes letting go of preferences, attachments, traumas, and even lessons that have already completed their function. A lesson can remain as a permanent defensive instruction long after the original event is over.
What I learned from the mind machine
I experienced this process directly with a mind machine.
The machine used hemispheric audio stimulation together with pulsed light delivered through low-power LEDs. It changed the sound frequencies, flash frequencies, colors, and right-left asymmetry. Music played during the session, so the experience was generally pleasant.
The machine effectively scanned through different brain states.
When it reached certain combinations of frequency, color, sound, and asymmetry, I felt pain. The machine did not create the pain. It reached a state in which the pain was already stored.
My first reaction was resistance. The mind actively generated an inhibitory signal to protect itself. It tried to stop the painful state.
Later I learned to let the stimulation pass through. I stopped fighting the pain and allowed myself to experience it. After several sessions, some of the pain became weaker and the corresponding states became easier to enter.
The mechanism seemed simple. The machine scanned through states, found the painful frequency, activated the pain, and gave me an opportunity to stop reinforcing the blockage.
Yoga and psychedelics use the same principle
Yoga appears to work in a similar way.
A posture places the body into a particular configuration and reaches a region of tension or pain. The person remains in the posture and breathes through it. The purpose is not to fight the pain. The purpose is to stop producing the resistance that keeps the blockage fixed.
Psychedelic experience can also scan the mind and body. Ayahuasca or psilocybin may move through different layers of emotion, trauma, memory, and bodily tension. The process may feel as though it starts near the top of the body and gradually moves downward.
When the process reaches pain, resistance makes the experience worse. Allowing the pain to pass can release it.
The common principle is the same:
The state activates the pain. The person stops resisting. The pain completes its movement and loses part of its force.
Why a group may be necessary
Individual training may not be enough because one person who opens is still surrounded by an incoherent collective environment.
A coherent group can make openness safer. Shared intention, breathing, music, rhythm, meditation, emotional support, and ritual can create a temporary local field in which people are permitted to enter unusual states.
This may be one function of chanting, dance, shamanic ceremony, group meditation, and some yoga practices. The group is gradually entrained into a common state. A leader or teacher helps maintain the state while individual people move through fear, pain, and resistance.
The group is not merely sending images or guessing numbers. The group is learning how to remain open together.
Training a culture of telepathy
We can also develop AI-guided telepathy training sessions.
An AI avatar could guide relaxation, dream-state practice, attention exercises, emotional opening, group coherence, and telepathic experiments. It could collect methods, organize experiences, and gradually improve the training.
The deeper purpose would be to create a culture of telepathy.
Our present culture repeatedly teaches separation, control, emotional restraint, and fear of unusual states. A telepathic culture would provide permission. It would say that openness is normal, telepathic perception can be developed, and unusual experiences can be discussed without shame.
This cultural permission may itself reduce the subconscious resistance.
The working idea is now fairly simple. Telepathy may already be a normal human capacity. The main problem is not producing it. The main problem is remaining open when openness activates personal pain, collective pain, fear, and loss of control.
The path to stable telepathy may therefore pass through trauma release, reduction of desire, repeated exposure to altered states, and the creation of coherent groups in which openness becomes safe.