"First you will raise the island of the Sirens, those creatures who spellbind any man alive, whoever comes their way. Whoever draws too close, off guard, and catches the Sirens’ voices in the air – no sailing home for him, no wife rising to meet him, no happy children beaming up at their father’s face. The high, thrilling song of the Sirens will transfix him, lolling there in their meadow, round them heaps of corpses rotting away, rags of skin shriveling on their bones." - Homer, The Odyssey
A specter is a ghost that wanders without substance. An image whose very presence is empty. It is fortunate that most specters are mere spectacles. Our social media feeds are full of those spectacles. Images and videos calling us to live better, play better, and pray better.
In some cases, these specters call you to purchase their new product. Specters have been used advertising agencies compelling countless people to consume stuff they don't need. And so-called religious leaders continuously do this. These specter need a raison d'être.
I’ve been taking time over the last year reflecting on these kinds of specters. These substance-less preachers, like the Homeric Sirens, pull spiritual seekers onto their islands, seducing them with the beautiful empty rhetoric of spiritual jargon.
And the seeker is pulled, forced to stop wayfaring, not as rest but as illusion. Life’s journey is filled with twists and turns. They open and close chapters. They are alchemy turning mundane moments into timeless wisdom. In the midst of the peaks and valleys, the journey of life will come to a halt. And perhaps this halt will be a form of enchantment, no longer seeking out the Origin. The seeker may remain on the island, forgetting home.
The Quran calls those “who inspire one another with adorned words as delusions,” enemies. (Quran 6:112). These are the temptations of the soul; the temptations of seeing ourselves as better than others or, even worse, as more enlightened. Socrates speaks of such men, those who sell illusion, as “who believe that they know something, whereas they know nothing.” These men, the sophists, are the substance-less specters selling illusion to the vulnerable. Socrates continues, “and I am better off than they are—for I know that I know nothing.” (Apology 20c–23b).
Today, the spectacles of Sirens no longer sing from rocky islands. They appear on our digital devices, promising that one more like, one more “secret,” one more retreat, and one more purchase will bring us eternal happiness. Industries are devoted to keeping us on the rocky islands. From consumerism and self-help gurus to the digital attention economy, these are some of the forms taken by modern Sirens.
When you are disenchanted by the enchanted, you can turn away from the Sirens and continue your journey home. We must realize that the Sirens, are indeed mere spectacles; specters calling us to nothing. The illusions of the world and the expectations set out by all sorts of industries, are left on the island, no longer a concern for us.
Which Sirens do we still hear singing, and do we have courage to sail past them?
The post reminds us that many voices today—whether from influencers or spiritual figures—are like Sirens, offering beautiful but empty promises.
Islam’s inner reality teaches that truth is not found in spectacle but in sincerity.
The Qur'an warns against “adorned words as delusions” (6:112), and Socrates reminds us that true wisdom begins with knowing our own ignorance.
These illusions tempt the soul to settle, to stop seeking the Origin.
But the seeker must keep sailing.
The journey home is quiet, inward, and real.
Likes, retreats, and spiritual jargon cannot nourish the heart.
To turn away from the Sirens is to remember the Source—and to walk humbly, knowing that truth is not sold, but revealed in silence and sincerity.