I attended a sound bath at a yoga studio in Makati just before Christmas. It was my first time, interestingly, not on an island, not in Bali, not anywhere ocean-facing. You’d think that’s where it would have happened first. But when I’m near the sea, the ocean already does the work. It asks for nothing extra.
Back then, my relationship with movement, and with stillness, was different. Slower. Less negotiated.
So it made sense that I encountered a sound bath here instead, in the city. In the middle of a fast-paced environment. As part of my recalibration back into metropolitan life, where quiet has to be chosen deliberately.
The experience itself was immediately relaxing. The instruments: bowls, tones, vibrations, had a way of loosening the grip of linear thought. It didn’t take long before I felt transported, as if the mind quietly stepped aside and allowed other dimensions to surface.
I noticed figures, though they felt far away, as if I were observing them from another planet. When I mentioned this afterward, the teacher described the state as expansive. The word felt accurate. Nothing was pulling me inward or pushing me forward. I was simply aware of space.
It reminded me of a dream I once had in El Nido. I was floating high above the sky, unsure of my altitude, until I looked down and saw a boat on the water, small enough to make the distance unmistakable. Oh, I remember thinking, this is how far up I am.
When I returned to the city, I found myself living on a high-rise floor. The view echoed the dream in an unexpected way. At times, it even resembles the vantage point of my bird, Alpha, observant, elevated.
Fascinating.
Back to my first sound bath session…
One image arrived vividly than the others. It involved movement, repetition, and collection… quite calm, but also joyful in a sense. There was another presence beside me, she was not leading or following, simply adjacent. The scene didn’t feel aspirational, and it didn’t ask to be interpreted.
In states like that, images don’t arrive as intentions. They surface as residue. What appeared felt less about desire and more about release, about loosening the need for outcomes or meaning itself.
Some experiences don’t require analysis to be useful. They settle quietly, doing their work long after the sound fades.
I create digital and traditional art inspired by nature, music, life, and spirituality. writeme@lheanstorm.com for Commissions, Web3 collabs & Inquiries.
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