Over time, my goal was no longer limited to understanding what was happening to me, nor was my interest confined to reading books or following the conclusions reached by others.

The research phase provided me with a great deal of knowledge, but it also led me to a different question:

What about the questions that have not yet been asked?

And what about the aspects that no one has paid attention to?

One of the most important turning points during that period was joining a number of organizations and institutes interested in these subjects.

For the first time, I felt that I was no longer simply an interested reader following what was being published. I had become part of a research community made up of people attempting to study and understand these phenomena through systematic methods.

Interacting with researchers also made me realize that genuine research is not built merely on retelling experiences, but on asking new questions and attempting to test them.

As my reading expanded, I began to notice research gaps that had not received sufficient attention. My focus gradually shifted from the conclusions researchers had reached to the questions that remained open without clear answers.

I often found myself asking: What might we discover if we continued the search from where others had stopped?

It seemed to me that the real value did not lie in repeating what had already been written, but in exploring the areas that still required deeper understanding.

Among the earliest research questions that captured my attention was the possible relationship between land surface temperature and remote viewing.

During my reading, I found very little that addressed this topic in the way I was looking for, which led me to wonder whether environmental factors might influence the phenomenon.

Another question that attracted my attention involved clouds and their possible impact on different forms of observation compared to what is attributed to remote viewing.

To me, these were not merely passing observations; they were examples of research gaps that seemed worthy of investigation.

During this stage, I also became increasingly convinced that personal experiences alone were not enough.

No matter how compelling or meaningful an experience might be, it does not acquire genuine scientific value unless it is subjected to study, testing, and systematic analysis.

For this reason, I began to view the subject as a field of research that could be studied, rather than simply a collection of stories or personal impressions.

I also began to notice that these questions did not receive the same level of attention within the Arab world as they did elsewhere.

Rather than discouraging me, this became one of the reasons I started thinking about developing my own approach.

I was not interested in imitating other researchers or reproducing their work. Instead, I wanted to explore the same questions from a different perspective and identify new angles that might contribute something meaningful to the existing body of knowledge.

It was at this point that the real transformation took place.

I was no longer reading merely to consume knowledge; I was reading in order to generate new questions and attempt to build new knowledge.

I was no longer interested only in what others had already discovered, but in what remained unknown.

That was the moment when I moved, in my own mind, from being a reader to becoming a researcher.