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  • Neti Neti Series No. 12A: The Ego’s Journey Toward the Pristine Mind

    Neti Neti Series No. 12A: The Ego’s Journey Toward the Pristine Mind

    Question:

    I’ve realized that the I-sense, or ego, cannot directly experience the pristine mind because it exists beyond duality. What now?

    Dear Friend,

    You have touched upon a profound and subtle truth in your reflection—the realization that the “I-sense,” the very sense of being a separate self, will never directly experience the pristine mind, for in the pristine mind, there is no “I” to experience anything at all.

    The “I-sense,” as you have observed, is the part of us that identifies with the individual self—with the body, the mind, the personality. It is the ego, the center of our personal world, through which we navigate the dualities of life—self and other, subject and object, right and wrong. This “I-sense” is deeply embedded in the fabric of our everyday experience, always seeking, always striving to maintain its sense of identity.

    And yet, beyond this “I-sense” lies the pristine mind, a state of pure, unconditioned awareness. In this state, there is no separation, no duality, no “I” that stands apart from the whole. The pristine mind is simply being itself, free from all concepts, all identifications. It is the ground of all existence, the true nature of consciousness that underlies every thought, every sensation, every experience.

    As you so rightly observed, the “I-sense” cannot directly experience the pristine mind because the very presence of an “I” implies duality, and in the pristine mind, there is no duality. The ego, by its very nature, is a construct that stands apart, that defines itself in relation to others. To dissolve into the pristine mind is to let go of this sense of separateness, to merge with the whole in a state of pure being.

    Yet, there is a way in which the ordinary mind, the ego, can approach this state, can come to reflect it as closely as possible. Through spiritual practice, the mind becomes refined, quieted, and purified. Meditation, mantra, mindfulness—all of these practices serve to soften the boundaries of the “I-sense,” to still the constant movement of thought and identification.

    In this stillness, the mind begins to mirror the qualities of the pristine mind—peace, clarity, non-attachment. While the ego may never directly experience the pristine mind, it can come to a place where it reflects this deeper reality, where the sense of separation diminishes, and the boundaries of the self become porous, transparent.

    It is in these moments, dear friend, that you may catch a glimpse of the truth that lies beyond the “I,” a truth that cannot be grasped or held, but only reflected in the clear, quiet mind. Continue with your practice, allowing it to guide you ever closer to this state of reflection, where the ordinary mind becomes a mirror for the pristine mind, and the boundaries of the self dissolve into the whole.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Ramayana No. 19: Revisiting the Ramayana with Venkatesananda’s Take: Lessons from Valmiki’s Experience

    Ramayana No. 19: Revisiting the Ramayana with Venkatesananda’s Take: Lessons from Valmiki’s Experience

    As we begin our exploration of the Ramayana through Venkatesananda’s version, it’s fascinating to revisit the early stages of this epic tale, particularly through the lens of Valmiki’s own transformation. In this version, we are reminded of how the sage first heard the Ramayana from Narada and later expanded upon it after a transformative experience with the hunter and his divine encounter with Brahma. This opening passage introduces us not only to the story of Rama but also to the profound personal growth of Valmiki, a theme that resonates deeply with our own spiritual journeys.

    One particular quote stands out:
    “Yet, the mystery that even he could lose his temper and thus risk losing the merit of his asceticism intrigued him.”

    This moment captures a crucial aspect of the human condition—our struggle to control our emotions, even after years of spiritual practice. For Valmiki, witnessing the hunter’s cruelty toward the birds brought forth both compassion and anger, leading him to curse the hunter. It’s a reminder that even great sages can lose their temper, risking their spiritual merit. For me, the Dalai Lama’s teachings on anger come to mind here—anger is often seen as the opposite of love, and when we give in to it, we lose touch with our pristine, true nature. But the important lesson is that we can always return to our senses, regain our inner peace, and continue on the path of righteousness.

    This story, to me, also inspires compassion for ourselves. If even Valmiki, with all his ascetic discipline, could slip into anger, we too can forgive ourselves for the times we fall short. The key is recognizing these moments, learning from them, and using them as opportunities to realign with our higher purpose. Valmiki’s regret and his ability to transform his curse into a verse is a powerful reminder that even our missteps can lead to something greater, if approached with the right mindset.

    In this retelling, Valmiki’s divine encounter with Brahma affirms the purpose of his story. Brahma reassures him that the verse he uttered, born out of both anger and compassion, is a blessing. From this moment of emotion, a profound epic was born—a story that would inspire righteousness, compassion, and wisdom for generations. This theme of duality—anger and compassion, curse and blessing—reflects the constant struggle humanity faces with its own dual nature.

    What I find particularly compelling in this passage is how the Ramayana is positioned as medicine for a world in turmoil, a story that speaks to the heart of our modern struggles. Today, as in Valmiki’s time, people are often disconnected from their conscience, their true nature, and their pristine mind. This disconnect creates inner chaos, much like the mental fluctuations Valmiki experienced. The Ramayana, with its timeless wisdom, offers a path back to harmony with the divine. It reminds us that even in moments of anger or despair, there is always a way to transform that energy into something positive.

    Valmiki’s transformation from anger to inspiration is a beautiful metaphor for our own lives. In the same way that he found his path through a moment of passion, we too can use our struggles as stepping stones toward greater understanding and compassion. The passion that Valmiki felt for the hunter’s cruelty was ultimately transformed into the creation of a story that would inspire righteousness and compassion for millennia.

    As we continue this journey through the Ramayana, let us reflect on how we, too, can transform our moments of anger or frustration into opportunities for growth. The challenges we face—both internally and externally—are all part of our spiritual journey. Valmiki’s story is a powerful reminder that the path to self-realization is not without struggle, but each step along the way can lead us closer to our true selves.

    In future posts, we’ll continue to explore the wisdom within this and other versions of the Ramayana, diving deeper into how these timeless stories offer guidance for our modern lives. Let’s stay open to the lessons each passage holds and, like Valmiki, allow our moments of weakness to be transformed into opportunities for growth and inspiration.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Metaphysics and Modern Science: Dark Energy, Awareness, and Expansion

    Metaphysics and Modern Science: Dark Energy, Awareness, and Expansion

    How the Mysterious Forces Shaping Our Cosmos Reflect the Boundless Potential of Awareness, Transformation, and Free Will in the Mind

    In the vast reaches of the cosmos, scientists have discovered a force they call dark energy. It is a mystery, one that baffles and intrigues, for it behaves in a way that defies everything we know about matter and gravity. Dark energy doesn’t pull things together; rather, it creates space. This elusive force opens up the cosmos, expanding it, pushing galaxies apart, allowing for movement and growth. And yet, in calling it “dark,” we perhaps miss its true essence. What if, instead, we saw it as a spaciousness, a boundlessness that allows the universe to breathe and evolve?

    Much like this cosmic spaciousness, there exists within us a similar vastness—a pristine awareness that holds everything we experience. This awareness is not the “content” of our minds—our thoughts, emotions, or memories. It is the space in which these mental events arise, dance, and dissolve, as naturally as stars come to life and fade in the night sky. Just as dark energy creates the room for galaxies to move, our awareness creates a space within for our thoughts to drift, soften, and eventually find peace.

    Gravity and Dark Energy: The Yin and Yang of the Cosmos

    In the universe, gravity and dark energy perform a subtle dance, each one essential to the other. Gravity, with its contractive force, brings form and structure to matter, pulling stars and planets into familiar orbits, giving shape to galaxies. It is the cosmic yang—a force of density and cohesion. Without it, there would be no structure, no foundation upon which the stars could shine.

    And yet, if there were only gravity, the universe would collapse into itself, bound and heavy. Enter dark energy—the cosmic yin, a spacious force that does not bind but liberates, that does not constrict but expands. Together, gravity and dark energy form a balance, a yin-yang of contraction and expansion, holding the cosmos in a delicate equilibrium that allows both stability and growth.

    The Pristine Mind: Inner Spaciousness as Anti-Gravity

    So, too, in our inner world, we find a similar duality. Within each of us lies a set of patterns, habits, and conditioning—our own inner gravity, drawing our minds into familiar cycles and reactive patterns, binding us to repetitive thoughts and emotions. These are the mental sanskaras, the engrained impressions and reactions that pull us toward familiar paths. This inner gravity, like its cosmic counterpart, shapes our minds, creating a certain order but often at the cost of freedom and flexibility.

    And yet, there is also an anti-gravitational force within us—a spacious awareness that holds everything without attachment, without pulling or pushing. When we rest in this pristine mind, we create inner space, an ether-like quality that softens our attachments, loosening the pull of our conditioned thoughts. Here, our minds expand, just as the universe expands through dark energy. This inner spaciousness allows our mental patterns to dissolve naturally, creating room for compassion, wisdom, and kindness to arise in place of habitual reactivity.

    The Element of Ether and the Throat Chakra: Creating Space in the Inner Cosmos

    In the traditional chakra system, this expansive force is represented by the Throat Chakra, or Vishuddha, often associated with ether—the element of space. Yet, the Throat Chakra isn’t about the physical throat; it’s a placeholder for this concept of inner spaciousness, a bridge between the tangible and the intangible, the material and the immaterial. Here, at the level of ether, the mind gains the freedom to open, allowing thoughts and emotions to move apart and breathe.

    When we cultivate this spacious awareness, we’re touching into the vastness of ether, where mental events no longer feel crowded or heavy. Instead, they float within a boundless inner field, much like galaxies drifting in an expansive universe. In this space, we rest not in the content of our thoughts but in the openness that holds them—a quiet, liberating freedom.

    Rethinking Dark Energy as Cosmic Spaciousness

    What if we thought of dark energy not as something “dark” but as cosmic spaciousness? Rather than framing it as a mysterious force, we could see it as a liberating presence, a space-creating force that mirrors the quality of the spacious mind. Perhaps it would be more fitting to call it cosmic ether or the space-generating force, something that emphasizes its role in making room for movement, for expansion, for the ongoing dance of creation.

    In both the universe and our inner world, this spaciousness allows for freedom and growth. Just as dark energy creates space for galaxies to drift apart and evolve, our own inner spaciousness allows our thoughts and emotions to expand and transform, to loosen their grip and settle into peace. This, perhaps, is the true gift of dark energy—not as a mystery but as a reminder of the boundless spaciousness available to us when we rest in awareness.

    The Inner Dance of Yin and Yang—Balancing Gravity and Spaciousness

    As we embrace this inner spaciousness, we find a balance between the structured and the unstructured, the contracted and the expansive. Gravity and dark energy, yin and yang, remind us that true harmony comes from both grounding and freedom, both stability and fluidity. Within our minds, this means holding space for our thoughts while remaining unattached, creating room for compassion and wisdom to arise naturally.

    In both the outer universe and our inner cosmos, spaciousness and gravity dance together. We find our true nature in this balance—rooted yet open, structured yet boundless. By resting in awareness, in this inner anti-gravity, we touch into a field of freedom that allows us to let go of old patterns, to expand into our fullest potential, and to rest in the peace and spaciousness of our boundless minds.

    A Final Thought on Humor and Cosmic Spaciousness

    As we reflect on the spacious forces of the cosmos and our minds, perhaps we can see dark energy as the universe’s own sense of humor. Humor, after all, creates space where there was none before, loosening our grip, lightening our load, and opening us to the vastness of possibility. In the same way, the spaciousness within us allows thoughts and emotions to dissolve, to spread out, to be seen with a gentler perspective.

    Maybe humor is the subtle spaciousness woven into the fabric of everything—a reminder that even the cosmos knows how to laugh, expanding ever outward with a boundless spirit. And in that spirit, may we each find the freedom to rest in our own spaciousness, meeting life’s patterns and cycles with a little more lightness and joy.

    Related Quotes on Spaciousness, Awareness, and the Universe

    Rainer Maria Rilke

    “I live my life in widening circles that reach out across the world. I may not complete this last one, but I give myself to it.”

    Rilke’s words remind us of life’s expansive nature, a continuous unfolding that mirrors the boundlessness of awareness.

    Chuang Tzu

    “Flow with whatever may happen and let your mind be free. Stay centered by accepting whatever you are doing. This is the ultimate.”

    This quote speaks to the fluidity that arises when we rest in spacious awareness, letting each experience come and go without attachment.

    The Buddha

    “Just as a snake sheds its skin, we must shed our past over and over again.”

    Like the spaciousness of dark energy that allows for expansion, this quote reflects the spacious quality of mind that allows us to release and grow, unburdened by old patterns.

    Albert Einstein

    “The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and all science.”

    Einstein’s words celebrate the mystery of the universe, reminding us of the wonder that arises when we embrace the unknown, much like dark energy or spacious awareness.

    Nisargadatta Maharaj

    “Wisdom tells me I am nothing. Love tells me I am everything. Between the two, my life flows.”

    This profound reflection mirrors the balance between spaciousness (nothingness) and the content of our experience (everything), held together in the dance of awareness.

    Lao Tzu

    “Empty yourself of everything. Let the mind become still. The ten thousand things rise and fall while the Self watches their return.”

    Lao Tzu captures the essence of resting in spacious awareness, where thoughts, like stars, arise and dissolve in an infinite, open space.

    Rumi

    “You are not a drop in the ocean. You are the entire ocean in a drop.”

    Rumi’s words point to the boundless quality of awareness, where each of us holds the whole of existence within, reflecting the spaciousness of both mind and cosmos.

    Dōgen Zenji

    “To study the self is to forget the self. To forget the self is to be enlightened by all things.”

    Dōgen’s teaching invites us into the spacious mind that sees beyond individual identity, resting in the vast, interconnected awareness that holds all experience.

    Carl Sagan

    “The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.”

    Sagan’s words capture the interconnectedness between the universe and consciousness, hinting at the idea of spaciousness as both a cosmic and inner truth.

    Thich Nhat Hanh

    “Breathing in, I calm my body and mind. Breathing out, I smile. Dwelling in the present moment, I know this is the only moment.”

    This quote beautifully reflects the simplicity of resting in awareness, where each moment opens into the spaciousness of now.

    🙏🕊️🙏

    If you enjoyed this article and would like to explore more on these themes, you can find a collection of related posts in the category Metaphysics and Modern Science: Dark Energy, Awareness, and Expansion.

  • Tibetan Buddhism: A Path of Mind Training and Intrinsic Wisdom

    Tibetan Buddhism: A Path of Mind Training and Intrinsic Wisdom

    In our journey of exploring spirituality across traditions, it is time to welcome the teachings of Tibetan Buddhism. At first glance, the colorful rituals, sacred music, and intricate costumes may seem confusing or overwhelming. Yet these outward forms are simply expressions of an inner practice that remains deeply practical and profound: the training of the mind. Tibetan Buddhism is not a religion in the conventional sense of belief or dogma but rather a transformative path aimed at purifying the mind. Through meditation, visualization, mantra, and ritual, the practice cultivates clarity, compassion, and liberation from egoic tendencies.

    A recent film about Dilgo Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoche, the reincarnation of the revered master Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, offers a glimpse into the heart of this tradition. Watching the young tulku receive teachings and grow within a vibrant Tibetan community reveals how this ancient wisdom lives on, passed from one generation to the next as a thriving, living practice. The film gently invites viewers into a deeper understanding of the teachings, dissolving the outer complexities to reveal a path focused on inner transformation.

    One recurring theme throughout the film is that all Buddhist practice, no matter its form, is centered on mind training. The rituals and prayers, while beautiful, are not the essence; rather, they serve as vehicles to refine awareness and soften the grip of delusion. The practice is about gently cleaning the mind, sweeping away negativity and confusion like a gardener tending to weeds, leaving space for the natural qualities of wisdom and compassion to emerge.

    Vajrayana Buddhism offers a unique method for engaging with life’s challenges. Instead of rejecting or avoiding difficulties, the practice transforms even negative thoughts and emotions into opportunities for awakening. It becomes a skillful means of shifting the mind’s energy toward positive states. This approach is not about suppressing thoughts but about meeting them with awareness, transforming suffering into insight and confusion into clarity.

    Tibetan Buddhism emphasizes the reduction of ego grasping, fostering a spirit of nonviolence, and cultivating compassion. It shifts attention away from religious belief and toward the inner work of softening the heart and taming the restless mind. These teachings are not confined to cultural forms but reflect a universal truth—the journey of every human soul toward peace and freedom. The path’s essence aligns beautifully with the teachings of Advaita Vedanta and even echoes the mystical experiences of figures like St. John of the Cross. While each tradition expresses itself differently, the underlying message is the same: the liberation of the mind from illusion, opening into a state of oneness.

    In this light, Tibetan Buddhism can be seen as a cultural version of the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali, offering practices that lead to inner stillness and self-realization. It is, in essence, a kind of spiritual atonement—a process of purification and return to the true nature of mind, much like the mystical experiences found in other traditions.

    What makes Tibetan Buddhism particularly rich is its capacity to embrace complexity. It does not reject thoughts, emotions, or even suffering. Instead, it teaches practitioners to meet these experiences with skill and openness, transforming them into pathways toward deeper insight. Watching the young tulku learn within the community demonstrates this beautifully—how every moment, even the difficult ones, can become part of the practice.

    We invite you to explore this film, which offers a rare and intimate view into the life of Dilgo Khyentse Yangsi Rinpoche and the vibrant Tibetan community that nurtures his path. Beneath the ornate rituals lies a simple but profound truth: Tibetan Buddhism, like all genuine spiritual traditions, is ultimately a path of mind training. It offers not only the possibility of individual liberation but also a way to cultivate compassion and wisdom for the benefit of all beings.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Finding Healing in the Fires Within: Shifting from the Ordinary Mind to the Pristine Mind with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

    Finding Healing in the Fires Within: Shifting from the Ordinary Mind to the Pristine Mind with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

    Discover how the quiet fire of the pristine mind can soothe the restless blaze of chronic fatigue, offering a path to inner peace and gentle transformation.

    I sit here today, tenderly aware of a fire burning within me—not the feverish blaze of energy or ambition, but a fire that comes with chronic fatigue, a fire that seems to consume my energy, that feeds on thoughts of worry, longing, frustration. This fire has been with me for as long as I’ve known this illness, and for many years, it seemed the fire was all I had—scorching, demanding, leaving me exhausted.

    But in recent days, I’ve come to see a new way of being with this fire, a gentle shift. There are, I believe, two fires within: one that belongs to the ordinary mind and another that belongs to the pristine mind.

    The fire of the ordinary mind is a hungry, restless flame. It feeds on what we give it—thoughts, fears, the inner whisper of “not enough.” It clings to the past and worries for the future, each thought a piece of wood thrown into the blaze, each worry an ember reignited. It takes, and takes, and when I stay too long with this fire, I feel myself slipping into exhaustion, my strength given over to a fire that never settles, never finds rest.

    And yet, there is another fire. It is quieter, calmer, like the deep glow of coals after the flames have settled. This is the fire of the pristine mind. It does not demand fuel; it simply is. It does not need anything from me, nor does it take. Instead, it offers a kind of sacred purification. It allows the impressions, the pratyayas, those old echoes of worry, disappointment, expectation, to rise up, to be seen, and then to burn themselves out gently, naturally, leaving a clean, quiet space in their wake.

    When I find myself caught in the ordinary fire—my mind racing, my heart feeling heavy—I take a breath and remember that there is another way. I sit with my awareness, letting go of each thought, letting each worry pass without adding to it. I let the flames burn low, and, slowly, I shift to the fire of the pristine mind, where each thought that arises can dissolve without reaction. I do not need to hold on to any of it, nor fuel it. In this place, I am simply present, letting what arises pass without attachment.

    This is, I’ve come to believe, a healing fire. Not a fire that consumes, but one that illuminates. When I rest here, I feel myself soften, as though I am held in a vast quiet. The pratyayas, those ancient patterns, have no hold here. They are seen, and then they drift away like ashes.

    Perhaps, if you too feel that restless blaze within, you can find this other fire. Sit with yourself, as gently as you would sit with a friend, and watch each thought arise and drift away. Do not reach to hold it, to make it stay, or to change it. Let it come, and let it go. Rest in the calm glow of the pristine mind, where there is nothing to fuel and nothing to fear. In this quiet, you are enough, you are whole.

    This journey, I realize, is very much a work in progress. Shifting from the ordinary fire to the pristine fire is not a one-time practice but an ongoing exploration—a gentle unfolding that reveals itself with patience and time. I invite anyone who feels drawn to this process, who wishes to explore this gentle technology of the mind, to sit with it and see if it offers benefit. Let it be an experiment, a curiosity, a way of tending to your inner world.

    This understanding has been inspired by the teachings in Our Pristine Mind by Orgyen Chowang Rinpoche. His work offers a profound look into the nature of the mind and the potential for peace that lies within each of us. If you feel drawn to explore this practice further, I highly recommend his book. It provides both guidance and wisdom for those seeking to discover the healing light of their own pristine mind.

    🙏🕊️🙏

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    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Finding Peace in Solitude: A Journey Through Chronic Fatigue

    Finding Peace in Solitude: A Journey Through Chronic Fatigue

    Navigating Loss and Connection While Embracing Spiritual Growth Amidst Life’s Transitions

    Dear Diary,

    Today, I find myself reflecting on my journey with chronic fatigue syndrome, a path often marked by feelings of isolation and longing. In the quiet moments, I feel a nostalgia for the connections that once filled my life, now distant and faded. This solitude reminds me of the loss and grief I carry for those connections, particularly with friends and family who do not understand what I am experiencing, and who, by their misunderstanding, make my own acceptance and adjustment that much more difficult.

    As I prepare to move into a new apartment, I feel a mix of excitement and apprehension. Starting anew in a different community presents both challenges and opportunities for growth. I realize that living with this condition has not only shaped my experience but has also become a vital part of my spiritual journey.

    Making friends with my unresolved feelings has become essential. I acknowledge the grief of lost connections and the isolation that accompanies it. This solitude is not merely an absence; it is a necessity for maintaining my well-being and allows me to cultivate a deeper connection with myself. I find inspiration in the challenges this illness presents, recognizing that they prompt me to grow in compassion and understanding—both for myself and others.

    As I approach this transition, anxiety rises within me. Moving into a new space means confronting the reality of my invisible illness in a community where no one knows my story. I grapple with the desire for genuine connections, yet I know from experience that sharing my struggles often leads to misunderstanding. I don’t have the energy to endlessly explain my need for solitude, nor do I want to feel the weight of others’ expectations. This conflict heightens my apprehension about the move, leaving me to process a blend of nostalgia and acceptance as I prepare to navigate new interactions.

    In embracing these feelings, I also choose to see them as stepping stones on my spiritual path. Each challenge offers me the opportunity to reflect and grow, reminding me that my journey holds purpose, even in its complexity. I aspire to be a positive contribution to the world, despite my limitations, and I believe that by sharing my experiences, I can help others feel less alone on their own paths.

    Let us continue to inspire one another as we navigate this journey together. Through our shared experiences, we can create a community of understanding and support, where we celebrate resilience and discover joy even in difficult times.

    With warmth and gratitude,

    Richard

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Dear Diary: Observing the Clouds of Emotion

    Dear Diary: Observing the Clouds of Emotion

    How Mindful Observation of Emotions Brings Inner Peace and Clarity

    Dear Diary,

    I write to you today, not with answers, but with the tenderness that comes from watching the sky change, hour by hour, and wondering what it all means. Have you noticed, as I have, how emotions can rise like a storm? Sometimes, they begin softly—like a gray mist that hangs just above the earth—and at other times, they roll in like thunderclouds, filling the horizon. It is so tempting, in these moments, to reach out, to try and push them away, or to brace ourselves for the deluge we think must come. But what if, instead, we learned to be still?

    I have come to realize that our emotions are not permanent; they are travelers, passing through. And though they demand our attention, we are not them. We are not the sadness or the frustration, nor are we the joy that sometimes feels so fleeting. We are the sky, vast and unshakable, watching with quiet patience as each cloud forms, darkens, and eventually dissipates.

    To witness without judgment is a practice, one that asks of us not resistance, but gentleness. It is in this gentleness that we find our true strength—not in control, but in allowing. We can observe the emotions without being drawn into their storm. When anger swells, or grief lingers, we remind ourselves that they are like clouds: they have shape and form, but they will pass. And we remain, unbound, beneath it all.

    I share this with you because I, too, am learning. Each day, I remind myself that I am not the shifting weather, but the sky itself. And I hope, in your own moments of storm and stillness, you might find comfort in this, knowing that the vastness within you remains untouched, no matter how strong the winds may blow.

    Yours in quiet reflection,

    Richard

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • In the Quiet of Healing: My Journey with the Parasympathetic Nervous System

    In the Quiet of Healing: My Journey with the Parasympathetic Nervous System

    Healing Through Rest: How the Parasympathetic Nervous System Can Support Recovery from Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

    In the aftermath of the recent hurricanes, Helene and Milton, I’ve felt post-exertional malaise weigh heavily on my body. The fatigue has been more than just physical—it’s emotional and mental, a deep, enveloping weariness that reminds me how fragile recovery can be. As I continue to mend from both the storms and the physical toll of chronic fatigue syndrome, I’ve found myself needing to return to the gentle practices that once brought me peace. The practices that help restore balance to my overstimulated system—those that invite rest rather than force recovery.

    Living with chronic fatigue syndrome is like walking on a delicate thread between exhaustion and healing. In these moments, the body feels like a battleground, constantly stuck in “fight or flight.” What I’ve learned, though, is that there’s another way—a softer, quieter way to approach healing. And this way begins with the parasympathetic nervous system.

    The Parasympathetic Nervous System: Our Body’s Quiet Healer

    The parasympathetic nervous system is often referred to as the “rest and digest” system, the opposite of the “fight or flight” response that dominates so much of my life with ME/CFS. While the sympathetic system pushes us to react, defend, and survive, the parasympathetic system invites us to slow down, to breathe deeply, to recover. It lowers heart rate, softens the breath, and gently restores the body to a state where healing is possible.

    For those of us with chronic fatigue, the parasympathetic nervous system is like a refuge, a space where our bodies can finally stop fighting and simply rest. But tapping into this refuge doesn’t come easily. It requires intention, mindfulness, and the willingness to let go of the push to “do” and embrace the power of simply “being.”

    Practices that Invite the Body to Rest

    Over time, I’ve gathered a small collection of practices that help me reconnect with my parasympathetic nervous system. One of the most powerful has been breathwork. By consciously slowing my breath—drawing in air slowly, holding the quiet pause between, and then releasing—I can feel my body begin to soften. It’s like a signal to my nervous system: “It’s safe. You can rest now.”

    Yoga Nidra has also become a vital tool in my recovery. It’s a guided form of meditation that allows me to rest deeply while staying present in the body. In this state, my body heals while my mind remains aware, a powerful reminder that rest is not the same as sleep. Restorative yoga, too, has been a way to surrender fully, each pose an invitation to soften into support, to let my body be held by the earth.

    And then there’s the Feldenkrais Method—gentle, mindful movements that teach me to listen to my body without forcing anything. These movements may be subtle, but they remind me that healing isn’t about big gestures or grand efforts. It’s about the small, quiet acts of listening to what my body truly needs in each moment.

    Learning to Listen

    As I move through these practices, I often find myself returning to Rilke’s words: “I am circling around God, around the ancient tower, and I have been circling for a thousand years, and I still don’t know: am I a falcon, a storm, or a great song?” Like Rilke, I am circling around the wisdom within me, learning the language of my body’s needs.

    Some days, I feel like the storm—torn by fatigue and pain. Other days, I am the quiet center, the stillness amidst the chaos. I am learning that healing isn’t about becoming something new or different. It’s about softening into who I already am and trusting that my body knows the way forward.

    An Invitation for Beta Testers

    If this resonates with you, I’d like to invite you to help beta test a new GPT model I’m developing. This model is designed to act as a relaxation coach, guiding you through practices like breathwork, Yoga Nidra, and gentle movements to activate the parasympathetic nervous system. It’s a tool I’m hoping will help others find the same peace and healing that these practices have brought me.

    This model is still in development, and I’m looking for a small group of people willing to try it out and provide feedback. If you’re interested, please reach out to me in the comments section with a few sentences about why this model interests you, how it could benefit your journey, and why you’d be interested in providing feedback. Your thoughts and insights will be invaluable as I continue to shape and improve it.

    Thank you for walking this journey with me.
    In the quiet, I’m learning to heal. May we all be well and safe. 🙏❤️🙏

  • The Medicine of the Mantra: A Bedtime Story of Chenrezig and OM MANI PADME HUM

    The Medicine of the Mantra: A Bedtime Story of Chenrezig and OM MANI PADME HUM


    Chenrezig shares the story of OM MANI PADME HUM with children, guiding them to uncover their inner compassion and wisdom. A perfect bedtime story filled with peace, warmth, and unity.


    Long ago, in a beautiful land where the mountains touched the sky and rivers flowed like silver ribbons, there lived a wise and compassionate teacher named Chenrezig. He had a twinkle in his eye, as if he knew a great secret, and his heart was so full of love that just being near him made people feel lighter. But Chenrezig knew that many beings in the world carried an invisible burden—an illness of the mind, one that made them forget who they truly were.

    This illness, Chenrezig explained, was a kind of forgetting. “We have all mistaken ourselves for something we are not,” he said gently. “Like a dreamer who believes the dream is real, we have forgotten our true nature—the vast, boundless love and wisdom that live in our hearts. Instead, we believe we are small and separate, like waves forgetting they belong to the ocean.”

    Chenrezig often told stories to children, knowing that their hearts could understand what adults often forgot. One evening, as the stars glimmered softly above, Chenrezig gathered a group of children around a fire. They looked up at him with curious eyes, waiting for one of his famous stories.

    “Tonight,” Chenrezig said, “I will tell you a story about a great medicine—a medicine for the heart and mind. It is the mantra OM MANI PADME HUM. This mantra is like the most powerful medicine a doctor could ever give, one that can heal the illness of separation and help us remember our true nature.”

    He paused, watching the children lean in closer, eager to hear more. “But first,” he continued, “you need to understand something important. Imagine that you are wearing many layers of clothing—so many layers that you forget what you look like underneath. Each layer is like a thought or feeling you tell yourself: I’m not good enough. I need to be better.

    These layers are like cobwebs in the mind, making it hard to see clearly. And because we believe in these stories, we feel small and alone, like a candle separated from the flame. But the truth is, we are not the stories we tell ourselves. Beneath all the layers, beneath all the cobwebs, we are already whole, already perfect—just like a lotus flower, waiting to bloom.”

    The children sat very still, imagining themselves wrapped in layers of thoughts, feelings, and stories. “How do we take off the layers?” one of them whispered.

    Chenrezig smiled. “That is where the mantra comes in,” he said softly. “OM MANI PADME HUM is the medicine that clears away the layers, like a soft breeze sweeping away cobwebs. Each time you say the mantra, you peel back another layer. OM MANI PADME HUM… and the layers fall away. OM MANI PADME HUM… and your heart shines a little brighter. OM MANI PADME HUM… and with each breath, you get closer to your true self—your Buddha nature, the part of you that is pure love and compassion.

    He began to explain the meaning of the mantra, his voice gentle and full of care. “The first syllable, OM, is the sound of the universe waking up. It reminds us that we are connected to everything—to the stars, the rivers, the animals, and each other. OM is the sound of coming home to our true nature.”

    The children closed their eyes, listening to the sound of OM as if it were rising from the earth, the sky, and their own hearts all at once.

    “The next two words,” Chenrezig continued, “are Mani Padme—the jewel in the lotus. This means that inside each of us is a precious jewel—the light of wisdom and love. But just like a lotus flower that grows in muddy water, this jewel can be hidden by layers of thoughts and beliefs. Each time we chant Mani Padme, we open the lotus a little more, revealing the jewel inside.”

    The children imagined a lotus flower blooming in their hearts, each petal unfolding slowly, with a bright jewel glowing at its center.

    “And finally,” Chenrezig said, “we have Hum. This is the sound of unity—the sound that brings everything together. It is the moment when we remember that we were never separate, not from others, not from love, and not from our true nature. Hum is the sound of the Buddha mind awakening within you, shining with pure compassion.”

    The children whispered the mantra softly: OM MANI PADME HUM… OM MANI PADME HUM… Each repetition felt like a breeze clearing away the cobwebs in their minds, helping them feel lighter and brighter.

    “Now,” Chenrezig continued, “let me tell you one more secret. The mantra doesn’t just help you remember who you are—it helps others too. Every time you chant OM MANI PADME HUM, you are planting seeds of compassion, not just in your own heart, but in the hearts of all beings. These seeds will bloom in ways you may never see, bringing kindness and peace into the world.”

    He placed a hand over his heart. “It’s like sharing a gift that never runs out. Each time you say the mantra, you are offering love to the whole universe.”

    The children sat quietly for a moment, feeling the beauty of the mantra settling into their hearts, like a gentle rain nourishing the earth. “So the mantra is like a magic medicine?” one child asked softly.

    Chenrezig smiled. “Yes,” he said. “It is a medicine for the heart, a way of peeling back the layers until only love and wisdom remain. It helps us remember that we are not small or separate—we are like the ocean, vast and full of life. And each time we chant the mantra, we bring a little more light into the world.”

    As the fire crackled softly, casting warm orange light on their faces, Chenrezig leaned closer to the children. “Now, as you drift off to sleep tonight, you can let the mantra carry you, like a boat floating gently down a river. Whisper it in your heart: OM MANI PADME HUM… OM MANI PADME HUM… Let it peel back the layers of your mind, revealing the jewel of compassion that has always been there.”


    He kissed each child on the forehead and offered a final blessing:

    OM MANI PADME HUM . . .

    “With each breath, may you awaken to your true nature.”

    “With each dream, may your heart bloom in kindness.”

    “May all beings remember their light, and may the world be filled with peace.”

    The mantra hummed softly in their hearts: OM MANI PADME HUM, OM MANI PADME HUM… clearing away the cobwebs, layer by layer, revealing the truth that they were never separate, but always part of the great ocean of love.

    May your hearts always shine with the light of compassion, and may OM MANI PADME HUM guide you, now and always. Sleep well, children. The jewel in the lotus is already blooming within you.

    As the children drifted into a peaceful sleep, the mantra whispered in their hearts… OM MANI PADME HUM… until their dreams were filled with rivers of kindness, endless skies of compassion, and the light of love.

    Goodnight, little one. ❤️

    🙏🕊️🙏

    If you’d like to explore more bedtime stories for children, including tales that nurture compassion and mindfulness, you can find our collection here.

  • Verse 3: The Mirror of True Knowledge — Insights from Ramana Maharshi

    Verse 3: The Mirror of True Knowledge — Insights from Ramana Maharshi

    “Having known the Self, which is awareness, there is nothing more to know. That which is, is consciousness itself. To seek it elsewhere is to wander far away.”

    — Ramana Maharshi, Forty Verses on Reality

    There comes a moment in each of our lives when the questions that have followed us, haunting our thoughts, cease to carry the same weight. It is as though we have been wandering through a vast wilderness, searching endlessly for something, only to realize that it has been with us all along. This, Ramana tells us, is the moment of true knowledge—the moment when we recognize the Self, and in doing so, find that there is nothing more to seek.

    This knowledge is not like the knowing of facts or the gathering of worldly wisdom. It is the unveiling of the very essence of awareness, that which sees all, yet remains unseen. To touch this awareness is to come home, to realize that the search has always been for ourselves.

    And how often we search elsewhere! How often we cast our gaze into the far distance, imagining that the truth lies in some distant land, or hidden in the words of another. But Ramana reminds us that to seek it elsewhere is to wander further from the source. The truth we seek does not live in far-off places; it lives in the heart of our own being, as close as breath, as present as this very moment.

    Like a mirror reflecting all without judgment, true knowledge is the simple, clear awareness of what is. When we come to see that all that exists is consciousness itself, we are no longer captivated by the shadows on the wall. We see, instead, the light—the steady, unwavering light of awareness, which has been with us from the beginning.

    To know the Self is to realize that there is nowhere else to go. The seeking ends, and in its place arises a quiet, unshakable peace. It is not the end of curiosity or wonder, but the end of searching outside ourselves for what can only be found within.

    To know that there is nothing more to seek is not to say there is nothing more to do. In the realization that the Self has always been present, there is still the practice of abiding, of resting in the gentle awareness that is always here. It is this abiding, this quiet discipline of being, that becomes the ongoing practice.

    Yes, the search has ended, but the journey of returning, over and over again, to the pristine mind continues. For in this ordinary mind—this space filled with distractions, thoughts, and the pull of the world—there is the temptation to forget, to stray from the simplicity of awareness. And so, we practice. Not as seekers anymore, but as those who have touched the truth and wish to live in its light.

    The practice now is not one of effortful striving, but of allowing—of surrendering into the effortless effort, the gentle doing of non-doing. This is where the paradox lives: to rest in what is, and yet remain disciplined in that rest. It is not that there is nothing more to do, but rather that what is to be done is a continual letting go, a surrendering to the ever-present awareness that requires nothing from us but our willingness to be with it.

    And so, we abide. With each breath, with each passing moment, we return—not to search, but to rest. And though the Self needs no searching, the practice of staying with it remains. In this, there is the dance of wu-wei, the graceful action of inaction, the peaceful unfolding of all that is.

    Perhaps one day the effort, too, will fall away, and only the abiding will remain.

    Coming Up Next: Verse 4

    In the next verse, we will reflect on the nature of thought and the root of all actions. How do our thoughts shape our reality, and what lies at the core of true understanding? Join us as we continue this journey through the depths of Ramana Maharshi’s teachings.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Navigating the Unexpected: A Journey Through Post-Viral ME/CFS

    When post-viral ME/CFS first appeared in my life over 30 years ago, it was like a sudden, uninvited guest that turned everything upside down. The plans I had carefully laid out—the career, the teaching, the travel—came to a screeching halt. My body, which once felt like a reliable vehicle for my ambitions, became a source of constant limitation.

    For many people today, especially in the aftermath of COVID, the experience of long COVID or post-viral ME/CFS can feel like a similar trainwreck. The life you knew, the expectations you had, are suddenly out of reach, and you’re left grappling with a new reality—one that modern medicine often struggles to explain, let alone resolve.

    I remember the early days well. The confusion, the depression, the overwhelming frustration that came with the unrelenting fatigue. In the beginning, it was hard to see any way forward. It felt like I was being asked to surrender everything I had worked for, again and again. Every time I hit a new limit, I had to lower the bar, lower it again, and lower it even further. It was a painful process of letting go, not just of my physical abilities, but of my identity and the future I had imagined for myself.

    But over time, and through countless moments of surrender, I began to see that while the path I had planned was no longer possible, there was another way forward. It was a quieter path, more inward, but it was no less valuable. Writing became my outlet, my way of contributing to the world, even while living in solitude and spending much of my time in bed.

    For those of you reading this who are newly facing the reality of post-viral ME/CFS, I want to acknowledge that this is not an easy journey. It’s okay if you need to take breaks, both from reading and from the mental and emotional load of processing what this diagnosis means. Be gentle with yourself, and if you find the post too long, take it in pieces, come back when you’re ready. The key is to pace yourself, in life and in reading.

    Surrendering to a New Reality

    One of the hardest lessons I had to learn was surrender—over and over again. Post-viral ME/CFS teaches you that you can’t control everything, no matter how hard you try. Every time I felt like I was getting close to managing the illness, there would be a setback. My energy would crash, and I’d find myself in bed for days or weeks at a time. At first, it felt like defeat. I had to give up so many aspects of life I’d taken for granted.

    But over time, I realized that surrendering wasn’t about giving up. It was about accepting what is, rather than constantly struggling against it. The more I fought the reality of my illness, the more frustration I experienced. Letting go didn’t mean that I had to stop hoping or working toward better health, but it did mean that I had to stop resisting what I couldn’t change in that moment.

    Surrendering, in this sense, became a way to make peace with the limits of my body, to find moments of ease even when everything else felt out of control. It was an ongoing practice, one that I still revisit, especially on difficult days.

    Navigating Others’ Reactions

    In addition to learning how to surrender, one of the most difficult challenges I faced early on was dealing with other people’s reactions. In those early days, many people didn’t even believe post-viral ME/CFS existed. I heard things like, “You just need to drink more coffee,” or, “Have you thought about taking naps?” Even when I was officially diagnosed as disabled by the government, my own mother thought I was just lazy and needed to be more active.

    This kind of misunderstanding, disrespect, and dismissal is, unfortunately, a common experience for many who suffer from post-viral ME/CFS. Family, friends, and even doctors would question or deny my experience. I’ve heard stories of doctors telling their patients not to even talk about ME/CFS because it “doesn’t exist.” It was often treated as a garbage-pail diagnosis, or dismissed entirely.

    While there is more understanding of post-viral ME/CFS today, the stigma still remains. Making peace with this aspect of the illness has been a long journey. What helped me most was cultivating compassion, not just for myself but for others. As Jesus said, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Having compassion for the people in your life who may deny or diminish your experience is a key part of finding peace.

    An Evolving Perspective on Post-Viral ME/CFS

    In the early days of my journey with post-viral ME/CFS, I found myself going through what felt like the stages of grief as described by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. At times, I thought I might be dying, and I cycled through stages of anger, grief, depression, and confusion. Acceptance didn’t come quickly, and it took years of processing and reflection before I could reach that place.

    One of the major steps toward acceptance came when I read How to Be Sick by Toni Bernhard. This book resonated deeply with me, and for the first time, I felt like someone truly understood what I was going through. Toni’s reflections on illness gave me a new sense of validation and self-respect, and her practical tips helped me develop a healthier way of relating to my experience. I highly recommend this book to anyone struggling with post-viral ME/CFS.

    Then, during a meditation class organized by students of Sogyal Rinpoche, based on The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying, I began to find deeper peace. It was around this time that I discovered a Tibetan sutra titled Transforming Suffering and Happiness onto the Path of Enlightenment. This teaching profoundly shifted my perspective once again.

    As I read the sutra, I realized that my anger, frustration, and negative emotions were not only draining my energy but also exacerbating my symptoms. It became clear to me that these stressful emotions were making my condition worse, and that when I was able to relax, let go, and find inner peace, I had greater capacity and longer periods of activity without crashing—or without crashing as severely. This was an important revelation: cultivating acceptance, forgiveness, and inner peace didn’t just feel better, it actually minimized my symptoms.

    Shifting Perspective: The Sutra That Changed Everything

    One passage from the Tibetan sutra resonated deeply with my experience of post-viral ME/CFS:

    “Whenever we are harmed by sentient beings or anything else, if we make a habit out of perceiving only the suffering, then when even the smallest problem comes up, it will cause enormous anguish in our mind.”

    This teaching hit home because, for a long time, I had been focusing only on the suffering. Everything in my life had become an enemy—my body, my circumstances, even the people around me. The more I centered my awareness on the pain and limitations, the heavier everything felt. Even the smallest setback would feel unbearable.

    The sutra showed me that the more we focus on suffering, the more it grows and colors everything we experience. By recognizing this, I began to understand that shifting my focus away from the suffering and toward acceptance could help me find peace. It wasn’t about denying the reality of the illness, but about no longer letting it dominate my entire perspective.

    The true transformation came not only by making peace with suffering but by learning to approach both suffering and happiness with the same equanimity. I had to remind myself that when I’m unhappy, this too shall pass, and when I’m happy, this too shall pass. This reminder became a useful way to stay balanced through the ebb and flow of life—the good days and the bad days, the good months and the bad months.

    Additionally, I found comfort in William Blake’s words: “He who kisses the joy as it flies lives in eternity’s sunrise.” It reminded me to appreciate the little moments of happiness, to savor them without attachment, knowing that they, too, are fleeting. This perspective helped me not to be disturbed by the constant changes and to find a sense of peace amidst it all.

    Discovering a New Path: Writing as Healing

    As I continued to navigate the ups and downs of post-viral ME/CFS, I eventually found a new passion that helped me stay connected to the world and give expression to my inner journey: writing. Although much of my life is spent in solitude, and my physical abilities are limited, writing has become my outlet, a way to contribute and share what I’ve learned.

    Through writing, I’ve been able to explore the lessons of impermanence, forgiveness, and acceptance, not just for my own growth but as a way to offer encouragement to others walking a similar path. Chronic fatigue may limit what I can do in the physical world, but it has opened up this creative space where I can still connect, reflect, and contribute.

    In this way, writing became not just a coping mechanism but a practice of karma yoga, an offering. It’s a way to kiss the joy as it flies, even amidst the challenges of chronic illness, and to embrace each moment—whether in suffering or happiness—as an opportunity for growth.

    🙏🕊️🙏

    “He who binds to himself a joy
    Does the winged life destroy;
    But he who kisses the joy as it flies
    Lives in eternity’s sunrise.”


    — William Blake, Eternity

  • 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.

    🙏🕊️🙏