Wanderings with Ashaley Koblah

In this episode of Wanderings with Ashaley Koblah, the Cartesian plane becomes more than mathematics. Ashaley traces its beauty from calculus and spacetime to sacred scripture, pondering whether Descartes was not only a thinker of reason but a man moved by divine purpose. Between geometry and eternity, the heavens stretch out like gauze, and every star becomes a point in the divine equation.TranscriptWanderings with Ashaley KoblahEpisode 10: Of Descartes and GodTo those who can relate. In the quiet chaos of my embattled mind, free, for a moment, from the distractions of this ending world, a revelation came to me.We so often overlook just how revolutionary and ingenious the Cartesian coordinate system is, or what some might simply call the Cartesian plane. It allows us, intelligent sentient beings, to express the complexities of our universe in simpler, more manageable forms, whether we’re dealing with differentiable or non-differentiable functions, integrable or non-integrable ones, or even the abstract realms of number theory, probability, and the time dimension in spacetime geometry, which so often find surprising clarity when visualised this way.Many foundational ideas in calculus, like limits, find natural expression on the Cartesian plane. And from this perspective, I begin to understand, even if only in part, why mathematics makes such perfect sense and why it works so well in helping us interpret the structure of our natural world.Perhaps it’s because our reality, in some abstract sense, resembles a plane, a vast, conceptual space stretching from infinity to infinity.It strikes our wonder, like that of the precocious child who once wondered aloud and asked her teacher one of the most beautiful and profound questions:“What is bigger – our imagination or the universe?”I find myself imagining Descartes inspired not just by logic, but by the sacred, perhaps even by words like those in Isaiah 40:22:“He is stretching out the heavens like a fine gauze.”And everything in those heavens?Just vector points in space.Reflective interludeAs I read these thoughts aloud. I found myself pondering a quote I once came across. It struck me like a mathematical bell in the dark.For if each star is little more a mathematical point......It’s the idea that the stars, countless, shining, distant, are each just mathematical points. But taken together, they hint at something vast. Something whole. Something divine.To God, it may be one simple, singular equation. What Einstein would later capture as the field equations, governing spacetime, curvature, and the very motion of galaxies.It made me pause. Rene Descartes must have believed in God. And the more I searched, the more certain I became. He was not only a mathematician. But a devout Christian.And I could not be more convinced that he, too, was inspired by the sacred.By the simple yet staggering verse from Isaiah 40:22, He is stretching out ... Perhaps, in that moment, the Cartesian plane was not just a breakthrough but an act of worship.OutroIn the next episode...... Join me for Episode 11: A Beautiful Goodbye.

In this episode of Wanderings, Ashaley Koblah reveals a mirror held up to the glittering masks of our age. Figures who dazzle with ambition and charm, projecting hard work, discipline, and even virtue. But beneath the façade lies a hollow centre, a pursuit of glory that devours, a beauty that destroys. This is not only about the seductions of one woman but about an archetype: the hollow self, a person built on illusions, on borrowed words and borrowed light. She, like many before her, reaps what she did not sow. And in the end, her dazzle fades, leaving behind only emptiness.The Wonder Woman here is a cautionary tale, a beautiful facade collapsing under the weight of its own lies, stabbing itself with many pains. True strength does not lie in taking but in building. Not in dazzling, but in being real.TranscriptMain NarrativeYour strides, your strikes. They dazzle. Woe to you, Wonder Woman, for what you seek. Pleasures you want. You whisper, Please… I want.But what you sell, you do not know. Your promises are only echoes. Your words, imagination alone. You go to reap what you did not sow. You tear down what you did not build. Like a church preacher, you proclaim the words, give it me all your money, power, and glory. and all of you.You ask,Can I?Come — hold it, grab it, own it, and eat it whole. Devoured. Then you lead men to their destruction. And nothing is left for you. Wonderful Woman, but your aching, empty soul. Reflective Interlude“Wonder Woman” is a mirror held up to us all. A figure of beauty and brilliance, yes, but hollow, chasing shadows. She reaps what she did not sow. She tears down what she did not build. It is the tragedy of a life lived only to consume, to dazzle without depth, to shine without source. And yet, do we not see the same pattern in our world? Spectacle replacing substance, words without weight, power without truth.The preacher’s cry is there to warn us: when sacred language is bent for desire, it becomes not light, but fire. So the “Wonderful Woman” is not only her. She is us; she is the times we live in. She is the caution that beauty and brilliance mean nothing if they are built on sand. And so I leave you with this thought: what does it mean to be a hero in a world so quick to consume?OutroThank you for listening to Wanderings with Ashaley Koblah. If this poem stirred you, share it, reflect on it and carry the question with you.Until next time, keep wandering.

In this Passionate Cri de Cœur, Ashaley Koblah confronts the illusions we cling to about life, circumstance, and morality. Through a raw and reflective narrative, he challenges the cliché that someone “would love to be in your shoes”, exposing the weight of self-loathing, societal hypocrisy, and the search for validation in a digital age.From historical injustices to modern obsessions with technology, this episode explores the tension between human fallibility and the divine. A contemplative interlude invites listeners to look beyond mere survival and confront the deeper truths of existence.TranscriptMain NarrativeThat mindset, the idea that people would love to be in your “shoes” is an excuse to avoid confronting self-loathing. People say, “Oh, your situation is better; some would love to be in your shoes.” But would you truly want anyone in those shoes? Shoes so tight they’ve twisted your toes and cracked your toenails? Shoes that do not stretch? Please don’t wish my circumstances on anyone. Loathe yourself if you must, but don’t assume your circumstances are better or worse than anyone else’s. This world has no metric for an “ideal” person; we’re in need of salvation, contingent on the divine. It comes from aboveit is promised, undeserved.The world and its moral ideologies are warped. especially when executives and founders of colossal corporations imagine themselves the rebirth of Napoleon, Julius Caesar, or Marcus Aureliusno matter how you see and say it: great men, grandest of men, gods, idols, rock stars, geniuses? Men who, despite everything, were fallible and became etched in history because they pushed beyond the conventions of their time. They’re dust and ashes, lying bare at the mercies of the elements.On the other hand, so-called men of God sometimes subscribe to despicable things on the dark web. selling fallacious blessings, insisting we’re not evil.How long will you look to your fellow man who’s just a mist and, at best, dust and ashes when humanity craves validation through a three-dimensional rectangle of wires and circuits, kneeling to it like a god perhaps the reinvention of Baal? Do you forget the echoes from long ago? Know that man’s proclamations are illusions. Remember that slave trading ended only about two centuries ago; among the many justifications used, pigmentation was a predominant one. And women were treated as property. To conclude: if you believe in God, seek to know the mind of God by grasping His word. And I say to whoever comes to me:hold your peace and your wicked, twisted words; don’t come to me claiming I live in better circumstances than someone else. By what metric do you claim this, from the infallible viewpoint of the Maker of all things? Bury those abominable sayings, keep them to yourself, and pray in silent reverie, because the only truth is He. All else is corrupt and twisted even my own words and aching heart.

In this episode of Wanderings, Ashaley Koblah unveils "A Love Undefined", a haunting and powerful new poem.This is not a lament for love lost, but a confrontation with a force as old as the cosmos, a presence whose beauty allured even the gods. The episode delves into the rawness of desire, the danger of yearning, and the stunning revelation that a "tally" of a different kind has been kept all along.TranscriptWanderings with Ashaley KoblahEpisode 7: A Love UndefinedYou are a conquest, defined by many, from friend to foe. A tiring fight with you, like a slow, unyielding fire. But I see your beauty from a deeper outlook.You are the first language, spoken by gods before the forming of man.The foremost expression of Him who made all things. Etched in purest forms, like the light of Valinor. By you, the horizon was drawn.To know you is to know the mind of God, divinely born in the hearts of all sentient life, before man spoke his first words. Your names have always been spoken by many across the lands. But you, you were never a beginning, neither are you an ending.You and God, inseparable. Like the Son, you walk a path of truth and brilliance. Your words reveal wisdom, beauty, divinity. They are a quiet stream over a tired hand, making the path a straight line for the resilient.Kin of the gods, beautiful power, Language of the highest minds. I am she. Mathematics. You will love me if you stay.Reflective InterludeIn this episode, I looked at mathematics not just as a tool or a set of rules but as an essence. A pure language, existing in its place within the known and unknown universe, amongst gods and men.We discovered it, and we named it. But it was always there, embedded in creation itself.Take a look at the Fibonacci series, expressed in life forms throughout our natural world, or the irrational number pi, stretching all the way to infinity. It is a truth that was spoken of and whose beauty allured gods long before we even existed. It falls on us all to pause and look closer at its beauty and truth. To appreciate that it’s etched deep within our own formation. It is our honour to dare to understand it. To comprehend it deeply, not for the sake of doing, but for the sake of knowing it. And by doing so, you'll fear it not but love it because you stayed.OutroThis has been Episode 7, A Love Undefined. Thank you… for listening.

There's a weight in episode 6, Tay's absence, and it's a place my mind fears to dwell, even for a moment, to reflect and create. I have contemplated the completed draft many times and questioned whether it truly echoes my deepest thoughts and emotions; honestly, it does not. There are still silent voices and proclamations deep in my spirit, so quiet I can barely hear them.Letting go is necessary, and only when those lamentations are sung aloud in melodies from my heart, in words my mind can translate and resonate with my psyche, and in gestures that can be understood, will it be complete and ready for publishing.

In this dreamlike episode of Wanderings with Ashaley Koblah, a low-key afternoon in Ghana with a friend drifts into an imagined journey, a Cobra Starship in hyperspace, interstellar colours streaming past, and Aubrey in the seat with the clearest view.It’s a moment where reality collides with imagination, where the ordinary becomes something divine, and you can almost feel… and taste… heaven.Join me for Aubrey’s Delight—a playful escape into music, friendship, and the kind of small, shared moments that feel like heaven.TranscriptWanderings with Ashaley KoblahEpisode 5: Aubrey’s DelightIn a Cobra Starship, in the seat with the clearest view, I’m trooping through these interstellar colours, a cacophony of psychedelic rock music in the space-time continuum.Stellar-high… and I can’t complain. Dopamine high, shoot me, and I’m down.Toast… You won’t know until you know.Happiness… a butterfly,Holding on to the last supply.Oh no—no cherry-picking; Aubrey is all worth it.In my soul… dwells her chi.Reflective InterludeI wrote this after having a few pints of strong, dark-brewed Guinness in the comfort of my home in Ghana with a dear friend.It was in the wake of our realisation that we were both twenty-something, single men.lives that could have been filled with family, kids, and the weight of responsibilitiesBut instead, here we were,spending a quiet public holiday together.We began to imagine what it would be like… travelling in a spaceship,in hyperspace drive like in Star Wars, with that imaginary girlfriend who’s all worth it. Aubrey.In that moment in hyperspace… just those beautiful colours, flying by at almost light speed. That moment of clarity. Quiet. Space. And peace.Just us… the spaceship… and Aubrey.AndColdplay’s Yellow playing gently in the background.That moment… would be all of heaven. Divine.That was Aubrey’s Delight—a moment of colour, of peace, of being suspended between reality and imagination.A reminder that sometimes… the smallest shared moments,The silliest daydreams can feel like heaven itself.OutroIn the next episode… we shift from cosmic wonder to something closer, more tender, a moment of yearning for a girl I once loved.It’s called Tay’s Absence.I’ll see you there.

In this deeply personal episode of Wanderings with Ashaley Koblah, I reflect on the unexpected passing of a dear friend and brother.It’s a journey through grief, memory, and the quiet faith that tomorrow is never promised—but that love, once given, endures beyond time.Join me for Where Territories Pay No Fines. A lament, a tribute, and a reminder to say the words that matter now.TranscriptWanderings with Ashaley Koblah Episode 4: Where Territories Pay No FinesThis episode is dedicated to a friend… a brother… who left too soon.The earth feels… a little less bright without your presence. Is this our first? Or… second nature? Pray God I can cope. Pray Jehovah our loved ones can hope. You have left me a broken man.I should be hoping… But I just can’t stop thinking of all the things I should’ve said that I never said. All the things we should’ve done. Now I’m hurting.Oh Jehovah, make it go away. Give me those moments back. Just a little more time with you. Why do all good people die young?Just a few days ago, I was thinking about all the things we’d do when I saw you again. You’re gone. And I’m broken. And I am… pissed.I know. I know for certain that Jehovah will bring you back to life. But did you have to die at all? Was it needed when all those cruel people roam the surface of the earth… untouched?Maybe this world isn’t good enough for your gentleness and your mildness. I never saw you angry. I never saw you sad.I look forward to seeing you again. Srodah. Even now… you break my heart. You’ve changed my entire notion of life, of space, and of time forever.I told you I’d see you soon. And you broke the promise. Who will take the wheel on a rainy day now? I do hurt… so bad.But sharing this time with you has been a gift. An enriching experience. A privilege. A delightful adventure. You’ve been all sorts of enviable things to me… But most of all, you were a brother. And a friend.I will see you next time. There’ll be water in the rainwhere territories pay no fines.Reflective InterludeThese are words I wrote and reflected on in the quiet ache of griefafter the unexpected passing of a brother, a friend… someone deeply loved, cherished, and appreciated.It reminded me of those haunting words:Life, like a mist, appears, and tomorrow is no more.I began to truly ponder what tomorrow even means… When I say to you, I’ll see you tomorrow. Is it hope? Is it an illusion? Or is it… an unspoken act of faith?Maybe even… a quiet arrogance, this belief that tomorrow belongs to me. Promised. Owed. Covertly disregarding the possibility of a grander power. He who holds not just tomorrow… but eternity.Now… I have come to know and agree with Shakespeare:Death will come… when it will come.But still—I pray for a death in sleep. A peaceful passing. And I pray peace for you, too. A gentle shrug on the shoulder, whispered quietly in reverenceTomorrow… isn’t promised.Say it now. Whisper it now. And live.OutroIn the coming episodes, the reflections may be unusually brief. They are fragments… fleeting thoughts, some sparked in elevated moods, some drifting in quiet epiphany.But they are honest. Moments worth sharing—and moments worth hearing.Thank you… for listening.

In this episode of Wanderings with Bernard Koblah....We journey into the fragile beauty of memory where deep connections, even the unforgettable ones fade.What do we become when all is said and done?Dust and ashes.But perhaps, within that dust – is the shimmer of eternity - a hope beyond this sojourn.TRANSCRIPTWanderings with Ashaley KoblahEpisode 3: Dust and Ashes – A SojournThis is Wanderings with Ashaley Koblah.Welcome to Episode 3 — Dust and Ashes.Today we reflect on the fragile beauty of memoryand the stillness left behind when something — or someone — is gone.Dust and ashes.Deep connections forgedUnforgettable memories madeOnly to watch them fadeto dust and ashes.Life, indeed, is a mistHere for a moment,Gone with the wind.We laugh, we love,We ache, we despairEach moment a stitchin the shroud of time.This worldA sojourn of longingWhere joy is brief,and sorrow lingers.What is mortal manbut dust with dreams?What are wewithout the hope of life eternal?Your love, divineA mooring for me.I wrote this thinking about shared dreams with loved oneswho now sleep through the staticman’s compulsory service.A dreamlike a leaf.The spine—holding, locking the two equal parts.And then… half is torn away.The dream becomes not beautybut an everlasting pain.There is pain in rememberingbut also — a quiet peace.Even the fadingcan carry profound weight.Perhaps it’s in the letting gothat we begin to hold onto what truly lasts.Thank you for walking with me through dust and memory.If life is a mist, may we learn to cherish it — before it disappears.In the next episodewe sit with grief.Raw. Honest. Full of love.A farewell.A tribute.A broken question whispered to heaven.Joinme for There’ll Be Water in the Rain.Until thenwalk gently.

This story talks about my personal quest for happiness. What some might say is a soft life—and unashamed by it, I too called it happiness: the soft life. It was a quest that began with me and later became a quest joined by friends. It took us many places, and guess what? The quest brought us to moments and memories that we almost never take seriously and often take for granted. I hope this resonates with you, and that whatever your quest may be, you're never alone.

This is inspired by a momenta walkthrough the restless pulse of Oxford Street in Osu, Accra.TRANSCRIPT