Stare


That pleasant, almost soothing feeling you get when you just sit and stare at something still—like a tree, the sky, or even an empty wall—can be explained from a few angles:

1. Mental rest

  • Your attention system can finally take a break.
  • When you’re not actively processing new information, the default mode network in the brain—linked to daydreaming and gentle self-reflection—can take over.
  • This mental “idling” lowers cognitive load and feels calming.

2. Micro-meditation effect

  • A fixed gaze, especially on something neutral or natural, slows your breathing and heart rate.
  • This resembles mindfulness practice, where you gently focus without judgment. Even without formal meditation, your body starts to relax.

3. Gentle sensory input

  • Staring at something motionless gives your senses a steady, predictable signal.
  • The lack of sudden change reduces the brain’s need to stay on alert, which can feel safe and comforting.

4. Dopamine balance

  • Our everyday environment often bombards us with rapid changes (phones, conversations, traffic). A still scene contrasts with that and lets the brain’s reward systems settle, which can register as a subtle pleasure.

In short, that “good feeling” is your mind and body switching from doing to being—a natural reset that humans have likely used for centuries without calling it meditation.

2. You don’t need a strict “prescription,” but it helps to give your mind a few short, regular pauses. Here’s a practical way to think about it:


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⏱ Duration

Micro-pause: 1–2 minutes is already helpful—just soften your gaze on a single point and notice your breath.

Mini-session: 5–10 minutes lets your nervous system fully settle, much like a light meditation.

Longer sit: 15–20 minutes (if you enjoy it) can feel like a full reset, but isn’t necessary for daily benefit.



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🔁 Frequency

Daily rhythm: 2–3 times a day is common—after waking, mid-day, and evening.

Natural moments: Use it when you feel mentally crowded: before a meeting, after finishing a task, or while waiting for someone.



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🌱 Simple practice

1. Pick something neutral and steady (tree outside the window, a candle flame, even a blank wall).


2. Let your eyes rest softly; no need to stare hard.


3. Notice the rise and fall of your breath or simply the stillness itself.


4. If thoughts wander, just return your gaze—no judgment.




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📝 Normal habits people find sustainable

A 5-minute gaze break every couple of hours during work.

One longer 10–15 minute session in the evening to wind down.

Combining it with tea or a quiet walk so it becomes a pleasant ritual.



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Think of it less like a task and more like a reset button. Even brief, spontaneous pauses—whenever you notice the need—are enough to give your mind the same gentle benefit.

3. You’re noticing something subtle—those different flavors of staring really do have different inner dynamics. Here’s a way to break down the three kinds you described and what might be happening in each:


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1️⃣ The “after an incident” pause

What it is: A sudden stillness after shock, surprise, or a strong emotion.

What’s happening inside: Your nervous system is recalibrating—almost like hitting the “pause” button while adrenaline settles.

Feeling: Numb, suspended, sometimes a bit blank; it’s the body’s way of buying time to process.



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2️⃣ The “please-stop-my-thoughts” stare

What it is: You look outward but the real effort is inward—you want to quiet racing thoughts.

What’s happening inside: This is closer to intentional distraction or self-soothing. Your gaze becomes an anchor, helping you regulate overwhelming mental activity.

Feeling: Relief mixed with a faint tension—because you’re trying to push thoughts away.



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3️⃣ The “random wall-gaze” where time seems to stop

What it is: You’re not trying to escape anything or process shock; the stare simply happens.

What’s happening inside:

Your attention slips into a soft-focus state sometimes called “wakeful rest.”

Brain networks that normally track time and tasks quiet down.

This can create a light, timeless sensation—almost like a micro-flow or very light daydream without images.


Feeling: Spacious, peaceful, as if the usual pressure to “do” is absent.



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Why the third type feels so good

It’s effortless. Unlike the first two, there’s no hidden tension (no stress to process, no thoughts to push away). Your mind and body naturally fall into a restful, timeless awareness—something many formal contemplative practices aim for.


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Tip to let it support you

Don’t force it or schedule it; let it arise naturally.

If you’d like, you can gently notice your breathing or the sensation of simply “being,” but there’s no need to turn it into a task.



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So when you experienced that random wall-gaze where time seemed to stop, you touched a spontaneous pause—a small moment of presence that people often spend years of meditation practice trying to invite.



4. You’ve put your finger on one of the most subtle tensions in mindfulness:
the moment we try to be mindful, we also create an idea of what mindfulness “should be.”
That effort can pull us away from the very thing we want to touch.


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Why “trying to be mindful” can feel artificial

A goal-oriented mind
The mind is used to working toward outcomes—finish the task, reach the target.
When you declare “I’m going to be mindful now,” that same goal-chasing energy shows up.
Instead of simple noticing, you begin monitoring yourself: Am I mindful yet? Is this working?

Expectations of experience
You start looking for a particular “peaceful” or “blissful” state.
The mind, eager to please, may begin to imagine scenes—your “fantasy place”—instead of settling into what is actually present.



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The paradox of mindfulness

Mindfulness is less about doing and more about allowing.
But allowing cannot be forced.
Teachers sometimes call it “effortless effort”:
a light intention to be aware, without tightening into a project.


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How small practices still help

Even though the state itself can’t be commanded, regular gentle habits prepare the ground:

Routines like conscious breathing or soft gazing create a familiar pathway for the mind to slip into presence when it’s ready.

Over time, these habits reduce the background noise of constant mental planning, so unplanned moments of natural stillness arise more often.


Think of it like gardening:

You cannot make a seed sprout by tugging on it.

But you can water, weed, and leave the soil open to sunlight.

The sprouting happens in its own timing.



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Practical way to balance intention and letting-go

Set the stage, then drop the script:
Sit, notice your breath once or twice, and silently say, “I’m here.” Then let attention roam naturally.

Notice fantasy gently:
If the mind starts building an inner scene, simply recognise “thinking” without judging or chasing it, and let it pass.



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So you’re right: planned mindfulness easily becomes a performance.
But those quiet, uninvited pauses you’ve experienced are not accidents—they’re the fruit of a mind that, thanks to small, patient practices, knows how to rest when the conditions are right.



5. In English, mengelamun is usually translated as “daydreaming,” “spacing out,” or “being lost in thought.”
It can also carry a slightly different nuance depending on context—more like sitting in a quiet daze, not fully awake.

Here are a few reasons people—especially in older generations or in traditional communities—might warn against mengelamun when you first wake up:


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1. Cultural and religious beliefs

In many Malay–Muslim households, morning is seen as a time of barakah (blessing) and productivity.

Proverbs such as “rejeki pagi” (“morning sustenance”) encourage people to rise, pray subuh, and start the day.

Sitting idle right after waking can be viewed as wasting the hours when spiritual and material blessings are most abundant.

Some elders add a spiritual caution—saying idleness can let “evil” or bad influence enter. It’s a way of emphasising that an unguarded heart or mind can be more easily disturbed.


(This isn’t a literal doctrine that a spirit walks in; it’s more a traditional metaphor for letting negative thoughts or habits take root when you are in a half-awake state.)


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2. Health and psychological reasons

After sleep, the body needs movement to fully wake the circulation and metabolism.

Lingering too long in a half-sleepy state can leave you groggy (what modern medicine calls sleep inertia).

Elders might have observed that people who start the day slowly often carry low energy or feel lazy, so they put it in cautionary terms.



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3. Social and work values

In agrarian or fishing communities, mornings were precious: animals to feed, nets to cast, markets to set up.

“Don’t mengelamun in the morning” really meant: don’t waste the best working hours.



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Balancing old wisdom with modern understanding

A few quiet moments of intentional stillness (like mindful breathing) right after waking can be healthy.

The caution was mainly against aimless, prolonged drifting that slips into lethargy—not against a brief, conscious pause.



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So when you heard elders say “if you mengelamun early in the morning, evil will enter,” it’s less about literal spirits and more a colourful way of saying:

> “Don’t let the early hours of blessing be stolen by idleness or by thoughts that drag you into negativity.”





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Stare

That pleasant, almost soothing feeling you get when you just sit and stare at something still—like a tree, the sky, or even an empty wall—ca...