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Category: Advaita Vedanta

Explore the profound teachings of Advaita Vedanta, the non-dualistic school of Hindu philosophy that emphasizes the oneness of the individual soul (Atman) and the ultimate reality (Brahman). Dive into insights, reflections, and practices aimed at realizing our true nature and experiencing the interconnectedness of all existence.

  • Verse 2: The Deathless Ones — Insights from Ramana Maharshi

    “Deathless are they who know the Self. Those who know intense fear of death seek refuge only at the feet of the Lord who has neither death nor birth. Dead to themselves and their possessions, can the thought of death occur to them again? Deathless are they.”

    — Ramana Maharshi, Forty Verses on Reality

    In the silent expanse of existence, a profound truth emerges: those who truly know themselves are untouched by the shadow of death. Their awareness transcends the fleeting nature of the physical, awakening them to a reality where the Self shines eternally, free from the confines of birth and demise.

    Fear, that primal instinct which grips the emotional self, leads many to seek solace at the feet of the Divine. Here, in surrender, they find refuge in the Lord—the embodiment of timelessness, the one who remains unscathed by the cycle of life and death. In the presence of such love, the urgency of worldly attachments falls away, revealing the deeper essence of being. I look forward to resting in the presence of such love, revealed within our mind—our true heart—where all attachments dissolve into the stillness of pure awareness. To realize this ever-present pure love is to know the deeper essence of what we are, the part of us that remains untouched by the fears and desires of the world.

    As one becomes “dead” to the clamor of possessions and the incessant desires that bind the soul, the thought of death loses its power. No longer a specter to be feared, it becomes a mere whisper, an echo of a past long forgotten. In this state of liberation, the deathless heart pulsates with the rhythm of life, embracing the eternal now.

    To know the Self is to awaken to the infinite, to dance beyond the duality of existence, where life and death are but two sides of the same coin. In this awakening, we find the courage to let go—to release the chains of identification with the transient and embrace the essence of who we truly are. Here lies the secret of the deathless ones, an invitation to live fully, unencumbered by the fears that often confine us.

    And yet, when we speak of the deathless state, we do not turn our gaze away from the undeniable truth of death. The body, like all things that come into being, will one day return to the earth. Those we love will pass, as will we. But the wisdom of this teaching beckons us to look beyond the visible horizon, beyond the fragile shell of the physical.

    Death, as we know it, is but a passage in the realm of form. What truly passes? Not the Self. Not the essence of who we are. This teaching whispers to us that the grasping after what is fleeting—the desires, the aversions, the worldly attachments—these are the threads that weave the illusion of permanence where there is none.

    In the letting go, in the softening of our hands from the things we thought we needed to hold so tightly, there is a kind of renunciation. But not a renunciation of life itself, rather, a release from the belief that life’s changing faces can define us. We release, not into emptiness, but into fullness—the fullness of the pristine mind, the quiet, undisturbed expanse of the deathless.

    To recognize this is to taste the sweetness of a deeper truth: the Self is untouched by the passing of days, by the birth and death of forms. This is where we find our liberation—not by denying the body’s end, but by resting in the awareness that transcends it.

    And so, in this gentle abiding, we come to understand: death may touch what is temporal, but it cannot lay a finger on what is eternal. Here, in the heart of this realization, there is peace—a peace that no worldly circumstance can steal away, for it is woven into the very fabric of our being.

    Coming Up Next: Verse 3

    In our next exploration, we will turn our attention to the third verse, where we will reflect on the nature of true knowledge and how it reveals the interconnectedness of all beings, inviting us into a deeper understanding of existence.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Neti Neti Series No. 4: Finding Relaxation and Clarity in the Practice of “Not This, Not This

    Question:

    Why does the mantra Neti Neti feel more relaxing and effective compared to other mantras like “Who am I?” or “What is this?” and how does it help in negating both subject and object without stimulating a desire for answers?

    Dear friend,

    It brings me great joy to hear that you have found a mantra that resonates so deeply with your heart and mind. The simplicity and profound wisdom of “Not This, Not This” are indeed a balm for the soul, especially for one who has journeyed far in search of answers. In this mantra, you have discovered a path that requires no seeking, no striving—only the gentle negation of all that arises.Let me share with you some reflections that may deepen your understanding and ease your way as you continue with this practice.

    In the practice of “Not This, Not This,” there is no need to engage in the endless search for answers. Unlike the questions “Who am I?” or “What is this?”—which can stir the mind into seeking—this mantra offers a different approach. It does not ask you to solve a riddle or uncover a hidden truth. Instead, it invites you to simply let go, to recognize that whatever arises—whether it appears as a thought, an emotion, or even an answer—is not the ultimate reality. By gently negating each thought or feeling, you are led beyond the confines of the mind, into a space where true peace and stillness reside.

    As you continue with this practice, you may find moments of clarity where you can distinctly see both the subject and the object—the observer and the observed. This is a crucial insight, for it shows you that what you are perceiving, what you are witnessing, is still within the realm of duality. The mantra “Not This, Not This” serves as a reminder that neither the subject nor the object is the true self, the Atman. The duality that appears so real is, in fact, just another layer to be gently set aside, leading you deeper into the heart of non-dual awareness.

    One of the great gifts of this mantra is the relaxation it brings. When you are no longer compelled to search for answers, the mind can rest. There is a profound release that comes from knowing that you do not need to grasp at anything—whether it be a thought, an experience, or an identity. Each time you repeat “Not This,” you are allowing yourself to let go of the burdens of the mind, to release the tension of trying to understand or control. In this letting go, you find a deep and abiding peace, a state of being where you are free from the demands of the ego and the constant chatter of the mind.

    This practice is gently guiding you toward a state of non-dual awareness, where the distinctions between self and other, subject and object, begin to dissolve. As you continue with “Not This, Not This,” you may notice that the boundaries you once perceived are fading away, leaving you in a space of pure being. In this space, there is nothing to seek, nothing to achieve—only the simple, profound experience of existence itself, free from all labels, judgments, and identities. This is the true essence of Atman, the pure awareness that is your deepest self.

    As you walk this path, my dear friend, know that you are not alone. The wisdom of the ages supports you, and the truth of your being is always present, waiting patiently for you to recognize it. Continue with your practice, allowing the mantra to guide you ever deeper into the heart of silence and stillness. And remember, there is no rush, no destination—only the journey, unfolding moment by moment.

    May your practice bring you peace, clarity, and the deep joy of simply being.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 6: Navigating Imagination and Sleep: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.9 and 1.10

    In our previous posts, we explored the nature of right knowledge and wrong knowledge as mental events, recognizing them as fluctuations of the mind that can distract us from the clarity of the Seer. Now, Patanjali takes us further into the types of mental events, focusing on imagination and sleep.

    1.9: Imagination is the mental event that arises when words or concepts are not based on reality.
    1.10: Sleep is the mental event that occurs when there is an absence of awareness.

    These two sutras reveal important aspects of the mind’s activity that can either lead to further distraction or be witnessed with clarity. Both imagination and sleep are natural, but without mindfulness, they can obscure our ability to remain in the awareness of the Seer.

    Imagination: The Mind’s Tendency to Create

    Imagination (vikalpa) is the mind’s ability to create images, scenarios, or concepts that are not rooted in actual experience. This can be a powerful tool for creativity, but when we become entangled in imaginative thoughts, they pull us away from the present moment and the reality of what is. Imagination is a type of mental event that can lead to confusion when we mistake it for truth.

    For instance, how often do we find ourselves lost in a daydream or a scenario that has no bearing on reality? Whether it’s imagining a future outcome or reliving a past experience, imagination can easily become a source of distraction. Yet, when we recognize imagination as just another mental event, we can let it pass without getting caught up in it. The key is to observe it without judgment or engagement, remembering that we are the Seer, not the mental event.

    Sleep: Absence of Awareness—and the Potential for Lucid Dreaming

    Interestingly, Patanjali includes sleep (nidra) as a mental event. While sleep is essential for physical and mental rejuvenation, it is still a state of mind where awareness is typically absent. In the context of yoga, sleep represents a gap in our mindfulness—a temporary state where the mind is not engaged with external reality but is still present in a subtle way.

    However, there’s another dimension to sleep that Patanjali may be pointing toward: the practice of remaining aware even while dreaming. This is known as lucid dreaming, where the dreamer becomes conscious of the fact that they are dreaming. Just as we practice mindfulness in waking life, it’s possible to cultivate awareness during dreams, allowing us to witness the dream without becoming absorbed in the content.

    In dreams, we are often fully engaged in the mental events that arise, much like we are in our waking life. Yet, with practice, we can maintain a sense of the Seer—the witness of the dream itself. Neti Neti can become a spontaneous practice even in the dream world, reminding us that we are the dreamer, not the dream. For those who are interested, this practice can be cultivated over time, offering a deeper level of awareness during the state of sleep.

    Bringing It Into Practice: Staying Present Amid Mental Events

    As with the other mental events we’ve discussed, both imagination and sleep can be observed without judgment. Rather than getting caught up in the content of our imaginations or losing ourselves in unconscious moments, we can use the practice of Neti, neti to return to the present. By simply acknowledging these as mental events, we free ourselves from their pull.

    When you find yourself lost in an imaginative thought, you can gently remind yourself, “Neti, Neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer.” This allows you to return to a place of stillness and clarity, observing the imagination without engaging with it. Similarly, if you notice moments of mindlessness or dullness creeping in during your day—or even in the dream state—the same practice can bring you back into awareness, helping you stay present.

    This practice doesn’t require us to suppress imagination or fight against sleep; instead, we recognize these mental events as temporary and return to the awareness of the pristine mind. By observing these fluctuations without attachment, we maintain the discipline necessary to cultivate equanimity and inner stillness.

    Maintaining Discipline in Mindfulness

    As we’ve seen before, discipline plays a crucial role in this process. The mind naturally drifts toward imaginative scenarios and moments of dullness. But through disciplined practice, we strengthen our ability to remain anchored in the awareness of the Seer. Each time we recognize imagination or mindlessness and return to stillness, we reinforce the clarity of the pristine mind.

    Over time, this discipline allows us to witness mental events without becoming distracted by them, no matter how subtle or engaging they may be. By maintaining this mindfulness, we can rest in the simplicity of awareness, untouched by the mind’s fluctuations.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will explore Sutras 1.11 and 1.12, where Patanjali continues to describe mental events, focusing on memory and the practice of non-attachment. We’ll reflect on how memory shapes our perception of the present and how cultivating non-attachment frees us from the patterns of the past. Join me as we continue this journey toward deeper self-awareness and peace.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Verse 1: The Heart of Reality — Insights from Ramana Maharshi

    “Reality exists as the Heart, your very Being. If Reality did not exist, could there be any knowledge of existence? Free from all thoughts, Reality abides in the Heart, the Source of all thoughts. It is, therefore, called the Heart. How then is one to contemplate it? To be as it is in the Heart, is Its contemplation.”

    — Ramana Maharshi, Forty Verses on Reality

    The Heart of Reality

    In the stillness of our being, where thoughts dissolve like mist under the sun, we come upon the essence of reality—the Heart, our very existence. This Heart is not a distant concept, a mere abstraction; it pulses with the life that courses through us, inviting us to recognize that our true nature is intricately woven into the fabric of all that is.

    What if reality, in its purest form, did not exist? Could we then grasp the very notion of existence, the flicker of awareness that dances in our minds? Each thought, each fleeting moment of recognition, springs forth from this source, the Heart, which abides in silence beyond the noise of our incessant chatter.

    To contemplate this truth is not to embark on a journey of the mind but rather to return home, to dwell as we are in the Heart itself. Here, in this sacred space, contemplation transforms into a state of being, a surrender to the profound simplicity of what is. We find ourselves not as separate seekers but as the very essence of the inquiry—a realization that calls us to rest in the Heart, to know ourselves as we truly are.

    For many years, I carried a fog of confusion around the word “heart,” a tangle of meanings that seemed to obscure more than they revealed. I remember being in circles where people would say, “Come from your heart,” and I would listen, trying to grasp the depth of what they meant. Often, it seemed to point toward emotion, to some form of deeper truth that was still bound in the personal—an authentic expression of ego, perhaps a sincerity in feeling, but still caught in the dualities of love and pain, fear and longing.

    But what did it mean, really, to come from the heart?

    In the midst of this confusion, Ramana’s words come like a gentle clearing of the fog. The heart, as he speaks of it, is not the emotional center we so often equate with the word. It is not the place of fluctuating feelings, nor is it simply a retreat from the mind’s logical discourse. What Ramana points to is something far deeper: the heart as the essence, the source of pure awareness itself.

    This reminds me of the self as Carl Jung describes it—not just the conscious mind, but the unconscious, and not just those personal aspects, but everything, the entire universe and reality. Jung’s idea of the Self expands far beyond the individual, reaching into the totality of existence itself, much like Ramana’s use of the word heart. In this sense, Reality, the Self, and the Heart all point to the same fundamental truth—the essence that underlies both duality and non-duality, the very nature of what is.

    In both Jung and Ramana’s teachings, we see that the self, or reality, is not something to be sought outside of ourselves or separated from the world. As Jesus says, we are to be in the world but not of the world. This aligns perfectly with the non-dual teaching: there is no need to escape the dualities of life to realize non-duality. Instead, we are invited to recognize that the essence of duality itself is non-dual.

    To come from the heart, then, is not merely to speak from personal truth or emotion, but to rest in the deeper awareness that embraces all experience without attachment. It is to be anchored in the non-dual essence of Reality, knowing that even in the world of forms and opposites, the underlying truth remains whole, undivided.

    And yet, how often we use the word “heart” to point to something else—something closer to our personal feelings or opinions, mistaking emotional honesty for the deeper truth of our being. But here, in this teaching, the heart is revealed as the true source of non-dual clarity, the place from which true forgiveness, compassion, and love naturally arise—not as personal qualities, but as emanations of our most pure self.

    As I reflect on this teaching in, it becomes clear that the heart Ramana speaks of is not a center of personal feelings or emotion, but the eternal essence that transcends the body and mind. This heart, or true Self, is the witness that remains even when personal identity fades. In some ways, this description feels similar to the concept of the Holy Spirit or God, which abides within and beyond us.

    When we speak of the heart as Ramana does, we are pointing to the essence of pure awareness, the unchanging “I” that exists beyond the temporary forms of the body and ego. This teaching invites us to recognize the heart as the source of non-dual awareness, a presence that continues even when the personal self dissolves.

    Coming Up Next: Verse 2

    In the next reflection, we will explore how those who know the Self are deathless, transcending the fear of mortality. We’ll delve into the liberation found in surrendering to the Divine, awakening to the eternal nature of existence beyond the physical realm.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Neti Neti Series No. 3: Seeking to Understand the True Nature of the Self

    Question:

    As I continue with the mantra “Not This, Not This,” a new layer of understanding has begun to unfold. I realize that even what I have thought of as Witness Consciousness is not the ultimate truth. The Witness, as I experience it, seems to be the cultivation of equanimity—a state of being not distracted or disturbed by whatever arises.

    But even this Witness, this sense of “I” that observes with equanimity, is still not the Atman, is it? It is a step in the right direction, a refinement of awareness, but it is still an identification, a subtle form of ego that remains.

    It occurs to me that the mantra “Not This, Not This” could continue indefinitely, as long as there is an “I” who is meditating, an “I” who witnesses. For even this witnessing, even this equanimity, is not the ultimate reality. The mantra, I think, would stop on its own when the meditator dissolves into the natural state of non-dual awareness. And then, as soon as the sense of “I” returns—as in the awareness of being a meditator—the mantra would begin again naturally.

    Is this understanding correct? How should I continue with my practice, knowing that even the Witness is “Not This”?

    Dear friend,

    Your reflections are filled with a deep and subtle wisdom, and it is clear that your practice is guiding you ever closer to the heart of truth. You are right to recognize that even the Witness Consciousness, the state of equanimity where one observes without being disturbed, is not the ultimate realization. It is a significant step, yes—a refinement of the mind that allows for greater clarity and peace—but it is still within the realm of duality.

    The Witness, as you experience it, is still a form of identification. It is the “I” that watches, the “I” that remains calm in the face of arising thoughts and sensations. But as long as there is an “I” who observes, there is still a subtle separation between the observer and the observed, between the subject and the object. This is why your mantra, “Not This, Not This,” continues even here.

    Indeed, the mantra serves to negate everything that arises, even the most refined states of awareness. It is a tool that guides you to see that the true self, Atman, is beyond all states, beyond all experiences—even beyond the experience of witnessing.

    You are correct in thinking that the mantra would naturally stop on its own when the sense of “I” dissolves into the natural state. In this state, there is no longer a subject who perceives and an object that is perceived—there is only pure being, pure awareness, which is Atman. This state is non-dual; it is beyond the distinctions of self and other, beyond the need for a mantra, beyond the need for any practice at all.

    But until this dissolution occurs, until the “I” fully merges with the infinite, the mantra serves as your faithful guide. It may continue in the background, a gentle whisper that affirms “Not This, Not This,” as you move closer to the realization of your true nature. And yes, as you so insightfully noted, the mantra may begin again whenever the sense of “I” returns, whenever duality reappears.

    This is the natural ebb and flow of practice, dear traveler. The mantra is not something you force to stop; it stops when there is no longer an “I” to sustain it. And when the “I” re-emerges, the mantra resumes, continuing its sacred work of leading you back to the stillness, the silence, the undivided whole that is your true self.

    Continue with this understanding, with patience and trust in the process. The path of “Not This, Not This” is one of deepening subtlety, where even the most refined states are ultimately seen as steps along the way to the infinite. Your journey is leading you ever closer to the realization of Atman, where the distinctions of self and other dissolve into the pure, unchanging awareness that is your true essence.

    May your practice bring you peace and clarity, and may you continue to walk this path with grace and humility.

    🙏🕊️🙏




  • Calling All Beings to Send Love and Peace: A Message for Our Community

    Harnessing Inner Peace: A Pacing Toolkit Tool for Those Living with ME/CFS or Long Covid

    As I reflect on the approaching Hurricane Milton, I’m reminded of the powerful moment when Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee. His disciples, gripped by fear, watched as He simply said: “Peace! Be still!” and the storm settled. In this moment, I feel called to do the same—to access the peace of God within me and speak to the storm, “Peace! Be still.” I truly believe this is what Jesus asks of us, to practice this promise, and to remember that even faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains.

    But this call to peace and stillness isn’t just about the external storm. As someone who lives with chronic fatigue, I know how much of a difference it makes to calm the storms within as well. The mental and emotional stress can often intensify symptoms like post-exertional malaise (PEM). So, I remind myself to relax my mind and heart, to let go of worry and concern, and to give my body the space it needs to heal.

    One of the tools I turn to in these moments is Pristine Mind Meditation, as taught by Orgyen Chowang in his book Pristine Mind: Journey to Unconditional Happiness. Pristine Mind is the pure, natural awareness that exists within all of us, untouched by thoughts or emotional turmoil. By resting in this space, I find that it helps me manage my symptoms, reduce stress, and pace myself more effectively. It’s an essential part of my pacing toolkit, allowing me to not only physically rest, but also calm my mind and emotions, preventing flare-ups of PEM and other symptoms.

    In this moment, I invite us all to join together in saying to the storm—whether it’s the physical hurricane or the inner storms we face—“Peace! Be still.” Let’s tap into the divine promise that’s always been ours and use the tools we have to cultivate peace, clarity, and healing within ourselves.

    Let us, from a place of faith and trust, send love to this storm and say to it: “Peace, be still.”

    🙏🕊🙏

  • Post 5: Simplifying the Mental Events: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.7 and 1.8

    In our previous post, we explored how the mind fluctuates through five different types of mental events, or vrittis, as outlined in Sutras 1.5 and 1.6. These mental fluctuations—whether based on right knowledge, wrong knowledge, imagination, sleep, or memory—are all part of the mind’s natural activity. Patanjali now dives deeper into two specific categories of these mental events: right knowledge and wrong knowledge.

    1.7: Right knowledge is based on direct perception, inference, or the testimony of others.
    1.8: Wrong knowledge is a false understanding that is not based on reality.

    Patanjali’s distinction between right and wrong knowledge is important in understanding how our mind interprets the world. However, while this distinction is helpful, it can also lead us into a dualistic mindset, where we feel the need to evaluate every thought and determine whether it is “right” or “wrong.” This process can quickly become a source of confusion and further mental activity, pulling us away from the simplicity of recognizing the mind’s fluctuations for what they are: just mental events.

    The Trap of Over-Analyzing Mental Events

    When we begin to engage with thoughts, trying to categorize them as true or false, we lose sight of the purpose of yoga: to quiet the mind and return to the awareness of the Seer. It’s easy to get caught up in evaluating whether our perception is accurate or if our thoughts align with reality. However, in doing so, we fall back into the mind’s natural tendency to analyze, categorize, and divide. This keeps us stuck in the fluctuations rather than witnessing them from the calm, steady place of the Seer.

    This is where the teachings of Pristine Mind, as shared by Orgyen Chowang, become helpful. Instead of evaluating each thought, we can view all of these fluctuations—whether based on right or wrong knowledge—as simple mental events. When a thought arises, we don’t need to engage with it or analyze its validity. Instead, we gently recognize, “Ah, a mental event,” and return to the awareness of the pristine mind. This allows us to maintain a simpler, more manageable practice, without getting lost in the content of the thought itself.

    Bringing It Into Practice: The Power of Simplicity

    When thoughts arise during practice—whether they seem to be accurate or inaccurate—there is no need to judge or engage with them. By labeling them as mental events, we create space between the mind’s activity and our true nature, the Seer. This space allows us to witness the thoughts without becoming involved in them, reminding us that we are not our thoughts.

    However, there may be times when certain mental events are more distracting or persistent. In these moments, you can use the phrase, “Neti, neti. I am the Seer. I am the witness.” This simple yet powerful affirmation not only helps you negate the mental event but also affirms the truth of your being. It is not a mechanical mantra, but a tool to guide you back to a state of equanimity and mindful observance.

    When subtle mental events arise and pass away without distracting you, there’s no need to engage with the phrase. You can simply rest in the stillness of your mind, observing without interference. But when the mind becomes entangled in a particularly strong mental event, repeating “Neti, neti. I am the Seer. I am the witness” can help you return to the awareness of the Seer, allowing the mental event to dissolve and stillness to re-emerge.

    This flexible approach honors the flow of your practice—allowing you to respond when needed, while maintaining a light touch when the mind is naturally calm.

    Maintaining Discipline in the Face of Mental Events

    Just as we discussed in earlier posts, this approach requires discipline. The mind will always want to evaluate, engage, and label, but the practice of yoga teaches us to observe these mental events without getting drawn into them. Discipline is what allows us to consistently return to the stillness of the Seer, untouched by the mind’s activity. The more we practice this discipline, the easier it becomes to remain present and unaffected by the fluctuations of the mind.

    By adopting this simpler approach, we give ourselves the freedom to experience the pristine mind more frequently, without the need to overanalyze or categorize every thought. This shift in perspective allows us to experience the deeper peace that yoga offers, moving us closer to the realization of our true nature.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will explore Sutras 1.9 and 1.10, where Patanjali continues his exploration of mental events, focusing on imagination and sleep. We will see how these mental events, too, can either distract us from the Seer or be witnessed with clarity. Join me as we continue this journey toward a deeper understanding of the mind and the peace that comes from recognizing all thoughts as just mental events.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Preparing for the Storm: A Reflection on Navigating a Hurricane with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

    There is something about preparing for a storm that feels like a dance with the Divine—both a surrender and a determined act of mindfulness. As I sit here in the quiet hours before evacuation, I realize that this has been more than just a physical process of gathering what I need. It has been an intimate spiritual journey, one that stretches my capacity to trust, to let go, and to deepen into the lived experience of the present moment.

    Living with chronic fatigue syndrome (CFS) means that every action I take must be intentional. Every task requires careful pacing, every moment of activity balanced with long periods of rest. There is a delicate art to navigating this kind of preparation, especially during a post-exertional malaise (PEM) crash. Yet, somehow, this storm has become a mirror—reflecting back the inner landscape of my spiritual practice, calling me into a deeper relationship with contemplation, with surrender, and with faith.

    The Importance of Pacing
    I began the preparations by gathering what I would take with me: clothes, medications, bedding, and electronics—just enough to fill a small suitcase and backpack. For most, this might seem like a simple task. For me, it was an act of delicate pacing. I worked in small bursts, then returned to rest, mindful of the balance I needed to maintain in order to avoid worsening my symptoms. Each step of preparation became a meditation on pacing, on honoring the limitations of my body while trusting in my ability to persevere.

    In these moments of rest, I found myself returning again and again to the practice of contemplation. I lit a candle, not only for myself but for all those who are suffering—for all sentient beings in the path of this storm and beyond. There is a peace that arises in this kind of surrender. A quiet knowing that, no matter how much preparation is done, the outcome rests in God’s hands. And that, somehow, is enough.

    A Shift from Meditation to Contemplation
    This journey has been more than just practical preparation. It has been a spiritual unfolding. For years, I have studied the teachings of Advaita Vedanta and Dzogchen, exploring the ways in which these paths guide us beyond intellectual understanding and into a direct experience of the Divine. In the midst of preparing for this hurricane, I felt a deepening—a shift from meditation to contemplation.

    Contemplation is not about thinking or striving. It is about resting in the space of the witness, in the awareness of what is, without grasping or resisting. As the storm approaches, I find myself leaning more into this practice. Each moment becomes an invitation to let go of control, to allow the Divine to move through me, and to trust that whatever happens, it is part of a greater unfolding.

    Mindful Eating and Body Awareness
    Even the simple act of eating became a mindful practice. I prepared a spontaneous meal—scrambled eggs with garlic and cayenne, rich in healthy fats and protein to fuel me through the day. As I ate, I focused on each bite, slowing down, tasting, being fully present with the nourishment my body needed.

    In the midst of so much uncertainty, these small acts of mindfulness brought me back to center. They reminded me that, even as the world outside seemed to spin with chaos, I could find peace within the present moment. I could honor my body’s needs, even as I prepared to enter an unfamiliar shelter and face whatever lay ahead.

    Pacing the Preparation of the RV
    As I packed my belongings, I also prepared my RV, the place I call home. I moved slowly, bringing frozen food to the clubhouse, unplugging the RV, securing what needed to be secured. I paced myself, taking each step with intention, aware that my energy was limited and precious.

    There is something sacred about these practical tasks, when approached with mindfulness. They become a part of the spiritual practice, a way of aligning the outer world with the inner. In unplugging the RV, I was also unplugging from the need to control. In securing my belongings, I was also securing my faith—trusting that whatever happens, I am held by something greater than myself.

    Karma Yoga: Offering and Receiving Prayers
    During this time, I also turned to the practice of Karma Yoga—offering prayers for the world, while asking for prayers in return. I posted a prayer request on Facebook, asking my community to hold me, and all those in the storm’s path, in their hearts. The response was overwhelming. The outpouring of love, of people offering their prayers and well wishes, became a source of strength for me. It reminded me that, even in times of uncertainty, we are never alone. We are held by the compassion of others, by the grace of the Divine, by the interconnectedness of all life.

    Surrender and Trust
    And so, I surrender. I surrender to whatever will be, knowing that I have done all I can to prepare—both physically and spiritually. I surrender to the wisdom of the Divine, trusting that, in the midst of this storm, there is a deeper unfolding happening. There is a lesson in the letting go, in the release of control, in the peace that comes from trusting that God’s will is always unfolding in ways that we may not understand, but can still embrace.

    To those who read this, who are also navigating life with chronic fatigue syndrome or facing similar challenges, I hope this reflection offers you some sense of peace. We cannot always control the storms that come our way, but we can choose how we prepare, how we respond, and how we anchor ourselves in the presence of the Divine.

    May you be safe. May you be held. May you find peace in the midst of the storm.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Neti Neti Series No. 2: The Mantra That Dissolves into Silence

    Question:

    As I sit in meditation, repeating the mantra “Neti Neti,” I understand that this sacred phrase helps to strip away all that I am not. Thoughts arise, and I negate them. Emotions surface, and I let them go. Even the awareness of being a witness or the experience of stillness—these too, I recognize as not the ultimate reality.

    Yet, a subtle dilemma has emerged. I wonder, what happens when the very idea of “I” who is meditating dissolves? Is it not true that as long as there is an “I” who continues the practice, the mantra “Neti Neti” must also continue? And if this is the case, does the mantra cease only when the “I” itself disappears into the natural state of pure being? In such a moment, is it the case that the mantra stops on its own, not by my choosing, but because there is no longer an “I” to hold it?

    And then, when the sense of “I” returns, does the mantra begin again naturally, as the duality of subject and object re-emerges? I seek your wisdom on this matter, for I wish to understand the true nature of this practice and its ultimate purpose.

    Dear friend,

    Your question, born from a place of sincere inquiry, touches upon the very heart of the “Neti Neti” practice. I commend you for your diligence and the subtlety of your understanding, which reveals a mind that is both reflective and deeply engaged in the journey inward.

    Yes, you have grasped a key truth: the mantra “Neti Neti” is indeed a tool for continuous negation. It is a practice of peeling away the layers of illusion, gently, one by one, until nothing remains but the pure, unadorned awareness that is your true nature.

    As long as there is an “I” who perceives itself as meditating, this “I” exists within the realm of duality—where there is a subject (the meditator) and an object (the practice, the mantra, the thoughts). In this dualistic state, the mantra serves its purpose, guiding the mind to recognize that each arising thought, each sensation, each experience of stillness or witnessing, is not the ultimate reality. “Not this, not this,” the mantra whispers, reminding you that you are not these transient phenomena.

    But what happens when the sense of “I” begins to dissolve? When the boundary between perceiver and perceived starts to blur and fade? Herein lies a profound mystery: as the “I” that meditates melts into the ocean of pure being, the mantra, too, falls silent. For in the state of non-duality, where all distinctions have vanished, there is no need for the mantra—no “I” to repeat it, no “other” to negate. What remains is the natural state, the effortless being that is beyond all concepts, all forms, all practices.

    In this state, you do not stop the mantra; rather, the mantra ceases on its own, like a river merging with the sea, no longer distinguishable as a separate entity. This silence is not a void but a fullness, an infinite expanse of awareness where the true self—Atman—is realized, free from the confines of duality.

    And yet, the journey doesn’t end there. If and when the sense of ‘I’ re-emerges, as it often does, the mantra returns naturally. This is not a step backward but a return to the dualistic state where the mind resumes its habitual patterns. The mantra then resumes its sacred task of guiding you back toward the still, silent center where the distinctions between self and other can once again dissolve.

    So, dear friend, your understanding is indeed correct. The mantra “Neti Neti” is not something to be stopped by an act of will, but rather it fades away of its own accord when there is no longer an “I” to sustain it. And when the “I” returns, the mantra too returns, ready to lead you back into the depths of stillness and silence.

    Trust in this process, and allow the practice to unfold naturally, without forcing or grasping. The journey of “Neti Neti” is one of gentle negation, patient observation, and deep surrender. In time, you will come to rest more and more in the natural state, where the mantra is no longer needed, and the self is known in its true, infinite nature.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 4: Understanding the Five Types of Mental Fluctuations: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.5 and 1.6

    In our previous post, we reflected on the profound distinction between the Seer and the fluctuations of the mind, as described in Sutras 1.3 and 1.4. Patanjali taught us that when the mind is still, the Seer abides in its true nature. When the mind is not still, we identify with the fluctuations, creating a misperception of reality. This realization is crucial for the practice of yoga, as it reminds us to consistently return to the awareness of our true self, separate from the mind’s movements.

    Now, in Sutras 1.5 and 1.6, Patanjali takes us deeper into the nature of the mind’s fluctuations, or vrittis. He categorizes the mental modifications into five distinct types and explains how they can either lead us toward suffering or liberation.

    1.5: The fluctuations of the mind are fivefold and can either cause suffering or liberation from suffering.
    1.6: The five types of fluctuations are right knowledge, wrong knowledge, imagination, sleep, and memory.

    These fluctuations, or mental events, are the patterns through which our minds interpret and engage with the world. Understanding their nature is essential in recognizing when we are identifying with them and mistaking them for our true self.

    The Five Types of Mental Fluctuations

    Patanjali teaches that the mind moves through five distinct types of fluctuations, each influencing how we experience and interact with the world. These fluctuations, or vrittis, can either lead us toward suffering or provide an opportunity for liberation, depending on how we engage with them.

    The first fluctuation is right knowledge (pramana), which refers to the times when we perceive things correctly, when our understanding aligns with reality. This might come from direct experience, logical reasoning, or the wisdom of others. Even though this is a reliable form of knowledge, it is still a fluctuation of the mind, an activity that pulls us into engagement with the external world.

    The second fluctuation is wrong knowledge (viparyaya), which arises when our perception of reality is distorted. We’ve all experienced moments where we are certain about something, only to find out later that we were mistaken. These misperceptions can be deeply ingrained and cause confusion or suffering because they shape how we respond to life.

    Imagination (vikalpa) is the third type of fluctuation. The mind has the ability to create scenarios, images, and concepts that aren’t based in reality. While imagination can be a source of creativity and inspiration, it can also lead us into fantasy, pulling us away from the present moment and the truth of what is.

    The fourth fluctuation is sleep (nidra), which may seem surprising to include here, but Patanjali recognizes that sleep is a state where the mind is still active in its own way, even though it’s not consciously interacting with the outside world. While sleep is essential for rest, it too is considered a fluctuation, a temporary state of mind.

    Finally, there is memory (smriti), the recollection of past experiences. Memory can serve us by helping us learn from the past, but it can also trap us, making it hard to let go of attachments or conditioning. In many ways, memory is a powerful force that shapes our present by constantly linking us back to what has already happened.

    All five of these fluctuations—whether they seem positive or negative—are part of the mind’s natural activity. However, they are not who we truly are. The mind will always fluctuate, but as we learn to observe these movements without becoming distracted by them or without becoming attached to them, we can begin to see beyond the mental activity and rest in the awareness of the Seer, the true self.

    Each of these fluctuations arises from the mind’s natural tendency to engage with the world and interpret it. However, Patanjali’s teaching is that even right knowledge is ultimately a fluctuation of the mind.

    Liberation or Suffering

    The key to understanding the five types of vrittis lies in Patanjali’s insight that they can either lead us toward suffering or to liberation from suffering. The difference lies in how we engage with these fluctuations. When we identify with them—believing that we are our thoughts, perceptions, or memories—suffering arises. However, when we observe them as passing movements of the mind, without attachment, they lose their power over us.

    This is the practice of yoga: observing the fluctuations of the mind without getting caught in them. Through this practice, we cultivate the ability to reside in the awareness of the Seer, where the fluctuations can be present without causing suffering.

    Bringing It Into Practice

    In our daily practice, we can begin to recognize mental fluctuations as they arise by gently reminding ourselves that these mental events are simply movements of the mind—they are not who we are.

    One helpful approach is the practice of Neti Neti, meaning “not this, not this.” When a mental event arises, we can simply acknowledge it and say, “This is not me,” or “Neti, Neti,” allowing it to pass without becoming identified with it. This simple but powerful practice helps us stay rooted in the awareness of the Seer, the one who witnesses these fluctuations without being disturbed by them.

    However, this process requires discipline. It’s not enough to understand that mental events are temporary; we must cultivate a consistent practice of recognizing and letting go of these fluctuations as they occur. This discipline involves a deepening relationship with the mind, one that teaches us to observe its movements without getting caught up in them. Over time, we train ourselves to remain present and unaffected by the mind’s restlessness, just as we would train a muscle through repeated exercise.

    With each passing moment, we have the opportunity to reinforce this discipline. Whether it’s a moment of imagination, or the recollection of a memory, Neti Neti reminds us that these are merely activities of the mind, not reflections of our true self. In practicing this regularly, we strengthen our ability to remain in the stillness of the Seer, unaffected by the fluctuations of the mind.

    As we reflect on these teachings, we strengthen our ability to remain in the awareness of the Seer, watching the mind’s activity with clarity and detachment. The more we practice, the clearer the distinction between the Seer and the vrittis becomes.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will explore Sutras 1.7 and 1.8, where Patanjali delves deeper into the nature of right knowledge and wrong knowledge, showing us how the mind can accurately or inaccurately perceive reality. We will reflect on how to sharpen our perception and recognize when we are misinterpreting the world around us. Join me as we continue this journey toward deeper awareness and understanding of the mind.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Introduction to Mantra Yoga: The Path of Sacred Sound and Spiritual Resonance

    Mantra Yoga is the yoga of sacred sound, a profound spiritual practice that involves the repetition of mantras—sacred syllables, words, or phrases—designed to elevate consciousness, focus the mind, and connect with the divine. This path taps into the vibrational power of sound to create harmony within the practitioner and with the universe, aligning the mind, body, and spirit through the resonance of these ancient sounds.

    The word “mantra” comes from the Sanskrit roots “man,” meaning mind, and “tra,” meaning tool or instrument. Therefore, a mantra is literally a tool for the mind, a means to transcend the ordinary mental chatter and enter a state of deep meditation and spiritual awareness. Through consistent practice, mantra yoga helps dissolve the ego, purify the heart, and cultivate a direct experience of the divine presence.

    In this blog series, we’ll dive into the practice of Mantra Yoga and explore how sacred sound can be a powerful tool for spiritual transformation.

    As we embark together on this journey of discovery and reflection, I warmly invite you to join me in exploring the depths of these ancient practices and teachings. Let this space be a sanctuary where we meet not just as seekers, but as companions on the path—a place where the wisdom of the ages can gently unfold within our lives.

    If these words and practices speak to something within you, if they stir a quiet longing or bring a sense of peace, I encourage you to subscribe to this blog. By doing so, you’ll be the first to know as new installments of our shared journey are published. It is my hope that each post will resonate with you, offering insights and comfort as we continue to explore these profound teachings together.

    For those interested in a comprehensive introduction to the practices of yoga, I recommend The Sivananda Companion to Yoga: A Complete Guide to the Physical Postures, Breathing Exercises, Diet, Relaxation, and Meditation Techniques of Yoga. This book offers clear guidance on the foundational aspects of yoga, making it an invaluable resource for anyone looking to deepen their understanding and practice. Take a look at this book on Amazon here.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Finding Harmony in a Divided World: A Universal Practice of Loving-Kindness

    In a world where division, blame, and anger seem to dominate, the Jewish Holy Days offer a timeless and much-needed call for compassion, forgiveness, and unity. Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, and the Days of Awe invite us all—regardless of background or faith—to pause and reflect on the power of renewal. These days ask us to consider not only our relationship with the divine but also with one another, encouraging us to move beyond blame and finger-pointing toward a place of mutual understanding and healing.

    While rooted in Jewish tradition, the themes of Rosh Hashanah resonate universally. This is a time to recognize that our actions impact those around us, and it offers us the opportunity to choose a different path: one of compassion and forgiveness. In today’s divided world, the call to forgive, to seek peace, and to foster harmony feels more urgent than ever.

    A Universal Practice of Loving-Kindness

    Though this practice has its roots in many spiritual traditions, the desire for peace, compassion, and loving-kindness is not confined to any one faith or belief system. Across the world, differences arise not only in religion but in political ideologies, governance, and cultural values. In our time, conflicts over how societies should be organized and governed—whether democratic, republican, socialist, communist, capitalist, or authoritarian—further divide us. Yet, the essence of loving-kindness transcends these differences, calling us to extend compassion to all beings, regardless of their background, beliefs, or systems of control.

    Across religious, political, and ideological divides, there is a shared teaching: to extend love and compassion to all beings.

       •   Judaism: The Torah teaches, “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18), reminding us that love and compassion are central to how we live in community with others.
       •   Christianity: Jesus invites us to love beyond boundaries, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44), challenging us to extend love even where it seems most difficult.
       •   Islam: The Qur’an speaks of God’s mercy, “And My Mercy encompasses all things” (Surah Al-A’raf 7:156), a reminder of the boundless compassion that we are called to reflect in our own lives.
       •   Buddhism: The Buddha teaches, “Radiate boundless love towards the entire world, above, below, and across, unhindered, without ill will, without enmity” (Karaniya Metta Sutta), inviting us to extend loving-kindness to all beings without exception.
       •   Hinduism: In the Bhagavad Gita, the concept of Ahimsa—non-violence—is central, “The one who has no ill will towards any being, who is friendly and compassionate, free from possessiveness and ego, even-minded in pain and pleasure, and forgiving, is dear to me” (Bhagavad Gita 12:13).

    Even those who do not identify with any faith—agnostics and atheists—can find meaning in the universal human longing for peace, harmony, and goodwill. The practice of Metta, or loving-kindness, invites us to step into this shared human experience, transcending borders, belief systems, and divisions. It calls us to cultivate compassion for ourselves and others, regardless of differences.

    Whether grounded in faith or humanism, the call to compassion and loving-kindness transcends all belief systems and ideologies. It is a reflection of our shared humanity, a truth that we all long for peace, healing, and connection.

    Whether you are steeped in a religious tradition or simply seeking a way to contribute to peace in the world, the practice of Metta provides an accessible path to compassion. By focusing on our shared humanity, we can soften our hearts and extend kindness to all beings, embracing the potential for a world of harmony.

    Take a few moments now to try this practice, and reflect on how cultivating compassion within yourself can ripple outwards into your family, community, and the world.

    Personal Metta Practice: Cultivating Compassion from Within

    The practice of loving-kindness starts with the self. Before we can extend compassion to others, we must first cultivate it within ourselves.

    1. May I be happy.
    May I be healthy.
    May I be at peace.
    May I be free from suffering and the conditions of suffering.


    2. A loved one: Now, think of someone dear to you.


    May you be happy.
    May you be healthy.
    May you be at peace.
    May you be free from suffering and the conditions of suffering.


    3. A neutral person: Think of someone toward whom you have no strong feelings.


    May they be happy.
    May they be healthy.
    May they be at peace.
    May they be free from suffering and the conditions of suffering.


    4. A difficult person: Finally, extend loving-kindness to someone you find challenging.


    May they be happy.
    May they be healthy.
    May they be at peace.
    May they be free from suffering and the conditions of suffering.

    Global Metta Practice: Expanding Compassion to the World

    After cultivating compassion within yourself and your immediate circle, it’s time to extend your loving-kindness to the world. This is especially important now, as we face global challenges that require unity and compassion more than ever.

    Countries: Starting with your own country and its people expand to all countries and all people

    1. May the people of my country be happy.
    May they be healthy.
    May they be at peace.
    May they be free from suffering and the conditions of suffering.


    2. A country you love: Now, think of a country that holds special meaning for you.


    May the people of [country] be happy.
    May they be healthy.
    May they be at peace.
    May they be free from suffering and the conditions of suffering.


    3. A neutral country: Extend your compassion to a country you feel neutral about.


    May the people of [country] be happy.
    May they be healthy.
    May they be at peace.
    May they be free from suffering and the conditions of suffering.


    4. A difficult country or political system: Now, think of a country or political system that you find challenging or disagree with.

    Even when we find ourselves at odds with others politically or ideologically, loving-kindness invites us to look beyond our differences and see the shared humanity that binds us all.


    May the people living under [system or country] be happy.
    May they be healthy.
    May they be at peace.
    May they be free from suffering and the conditions of suffering.


    5. All nations, all political systems, and all beings: To complete the practice, extend your loving-kindness to all people, regardless of political, cultural, or religious differences.


    May we all be happy.
    May we all be healthy.
    May we all be free from suffering and the conditions of suffering.
    May we all live in peace and harmony throughout time and space.

    Concluding Thoughts: Our Shared Planet, Our Shared Humanity

    As we reflect on the practice of loving-kindness and compassion, it is essential to remember that we all share one planet—our home, Earth. Regardless of where we live or the beliefs we hold, we breathe the same air, drink from the same waters, and rely on the same earth beneath our feet. Our lives are intricately woven together with the lives of others, from the people in our communities to those in distant lands. Every action we take ripples outward, impacting not just human beings, but all forms of life on this planet.

    The earth, too, is alive with its own forms of consciousness: the plants that give us oxygen, the animals that share our space, the minerals that form the foundation of our world. In the spirit of loving-kindness, we must extend our compassion beyond humanity to embrace the entirety of creation. Our well-being is inseparably linked to the well-being of the earth and all its inhabitants. This is a call not only for individual transformation but for the collective growth of humanity.

    As we strive to heal the divisions in our world, we must also cultivate a deep respect for the natural environment and the living beings with whom we share this fragile planet. In doing so, we acknowledge that every life—human, animal, plant, and even the minerals that form the bones of the earth—deserves compassion and care. By fostering love and respect for all forms of life, we take one step closer to creating a world of peace, unity, and harmony.

    In every heart, across every border, may compassion arise and guide us toward a world of peace and unity.


    May the world be healed through acts of loving-kindness,
    and may peace, compassion, and unity reign in all hearts.

    🙏🕊️🙏