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  • Post 11: A Moment of Reflection: Integrating the Yoga Sutras So Far

    Post 11: A Moment of Reflection: Integrating the Yoga Sutras So Far

    As we come to this point in our journey through the Yoga Sutras, it is important to pause for a moment. These sutras are not just words to be read; they are seeds, planted within the soil of your mind, each one carrying the potential for deep transformation. And like all seeds, they need time, space, and the right conditions to grow.

    Take a breath. Feel the stillness in the space around you. Notice the quiet beneath the surface of your thoughts. There is a place within you—a place of silence—that is always there, waiting to be discovered, waiting to be touched. It is here, in this silence, that the teachings of the Yoga Sutras truly begin to take root.

    You have been walking alongside Patanjali, exploring the nature of the mind and learning to witness its fluctuations with clarity and detachment. But now, it is time to look not only at the words but at how they have woven themselves into the fabric of your being. How have these teachings touched you? How have they begun to shift the way you move through the world, the way you sit in meditation, the way you witness your thoughts?

    An Invitation to Reflect

    As you sit with these questions, allow yourself to soften. There is no rush to find answers, no need to judge or evaluate where you are on this path. Simply notice. How has the practice of Neti, neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer shaped your understanding of who you are? Have you begun to feel the space that exists between your thoughts, that stillness where you rest in the awareness of the Seer?

    Patanjali’s teachings are an invitation to remember who you are beyond the mind’s fluctuations. Perhaps you have felt moments of clarity, where you touched this deeper awareness. Or perhaps the mind has resisted, pulling you back into its familiar patterns. Either way, you are exactly where you need to be. The journey through the Yoga Sutras is not about perfection, but about presence.

    A Space for Questions and Contemplation

    Take this time to contemplate any questions that may have arisen in your practice. Have there been sutras that resonated deeply with you? Or perhaps certain ideas that feel more challenging, more difficult to integrate? Sit with these questions, knowing that they are a natural part of the process.

    Sometimes, it is in the asking of the question that we find our deepest understanding. Allow the questions to arise without needing immediate answers. Trust that the clarity will come, not through force, but through the gentle unfolding of your practice.

    A Guided Meditation: Resting in the Seer

    Let’s take a few moments together to deepen into this practice. Find a comfortable place to sit, allowing your body to soften, your breath to slow. Close your eyes, and begin to feel the rise and fall of your breath, noticing the gentle rhythm that brings you back to the present moment.

    As thoughts arise, gently say to yourself, Neti, neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer. Let the thoughts pass by like clouds drifting through the sky. There is no need to follow them, no need to push them away. Simply observe, allowing yourself to rest in the stillness that lies beneath the mind’s activity.

    Feel the spaciousness that opens as you release each thought, each sensation. This is the space of pure awareness, the space of the Seer. As you sit in this awareness, notice how the fluctuations of the mind begin to soften, how the stillness becomes more apparent. You are the witness. You are the Seer.

    Rest here, in this stillness, for as long as you need. There is nowhere else to go, nothing else to do. Just this moment. Just this breath.

    Moving Forward with Compassion

    As we prepare to move forward in our journey through the Yoga Sutras, remember that this path is one of compassion—toward yourself, toward your practice, toward the fluctuations of the mind. You are learning to meet yourself with clarity and kindness, to sit in the presence of whatever arises without judgment.

    Allow yourself to take this pause before we dive deeper into the next set of sutras. Let the teachings settle within you, like seeds planted in rich soil. Trust that in time, they will blossom into the wisdom and understanding that you seek.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will return to Patanjali’s teachings, exploring Sutras 1.19 and 1.20. These sutras delve deeper into the nature of samadhi, the highest state of meditative absorption, and the paths through which it can be attained. We will reflect on the qualities needed to reach this state, including faith, energy, mindfulness, and wisdom. Join me as we continue this journey toward deeper understanding and inner peace.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • The Six Types of Courage in the Journey with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

    The Six Types of Courage in the Journey with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome

    For those of us living with post-viral chronic fatigue syndrome (ME/CFS), the path we walk is not a simple one. Each day brings its own set of challenges, often invisible to the outside world but deeply felt within. Yet, amid the fatigue, the uncertainty, and the pain, there are moments where we are called to draw on reserves of strength we didn’t even know we had. Courage, in its many forms, becomes a quiet companion on this journey.

    As I reflect on the Six Types of Courage, I am reminded that courage isn’t always the grand, heroic act we see in stories. Sometimes it is found in the smallest actions, the quietest moments, and the internal shifts of perspective that allow us to keep moving forward. Let me share how each of these types of courage has come to life in my experience, and perhaps in yours, as we navigate the complexities of chronic illness.

    Physical Courage

    Living with ME/CFS requires a deep well of physical courage. On the days when even getting out of bed feels like a monumental task, there is a certain bravery in simply continuing. To keep going, not by pushing beyond our limits, but by embracing our body’s need for rest, balance, and awareness, is its own form of resilience. The courage to honor what our body is telling us, to move slowly and deliberately through the fatigue, is often invisible to others—but it is no less powerful.

    I’ve learned, often the hard way, that physical courage isn’t about “fighting” the illness. Instead, it’s about recognizing that even the act of getting through a day, with gentle awareness of my body’s limits, is a courageous act of self-care.

    Social Courage

    One of the most difficult aspects of living with chronic illness is feeling misunderstood by those around us. Social courage asks us to be unapologetically ourselves, even when we feel like our world is shrinking. It takes bravery to share our reality with others, to say, “This is who I am right now,” even when we worry about judgment or pity.

    For me, social courage has meant being honest about my limitations, even when it’s uncomfortable. It’s meant declining invitations or stepping back from commitments without feeling the need to apologize. In a world that often celebrates busyness and productivity, social courage allows us to stand firm in our truth, even when it doesn’t align with society’s expectations.

    Moral Courage

    Moral courage comes into play when we choose to do what’s right for our well-being, even when it’s not popular or easy. It might mean saying no to well-meaning advice that doesn’t resonate, or it might mean standing up for ourselves in medical settings, advocating for the care we know we deserve.

    In my own journey, I’ve had to practice moral courage by trusting my intuition, even when others disagreed. Whether it was turning down treatments that didn’t feel right for me, or advocating for pacing and rest in a world that pushes us to keep going, moral courage has been about honoring my inner knowing and standing up for my own health and well-being.

    Emotional Courage

    Emotional courage asks us to feel everything—without guilt or attachment. Living with chronic illness brings a rollercoaster of emotions, from frustration and sadness to moments of peace and even joy. It takes real bravery to allow ourselves to feel the depth of these emotions, without judgment.

    For those of us living with ME/CFS, there is often a fear of being consumed by the negative emotions that come with illness. But emotional courage teaches us that by allowing ourselves to fully experience these feelings, we create space for healing. It’s okay to feel angry, to feel sad, to grieve the life we once had. And it’s equally okay to feel moments of joy, to savor the small victories without fear of losing them. Emotional courage is the bridge between feeling and acceptance.

    Intellectual Courage

    There is a constant need to learn, unlearn, and relearn when living with chronic illness. Intellectual courage encourages us to stay open, to question what we think we know about our illness, and to be willing to adapt as new information comes to light.

    In my own life, this has meant learning to let go of certain beliefs—like the idea that I must always be productive to have value. It has meant embracing new ways of thinking about rest, about healing, and about what it means to live a meaningful life, even in the face of limitations. Intellectual courage reminds us that growth is always possible, even when we feel stuck.

    Spiritual Courage

    Spiritual courage is perhaps the most profound of all. It asks us to live with purpose and meaning, even when our outer world feels small. For me, spiritual courage has been about embracing the stillness that chronic illness brings, finding the deeper meaning in quiet moments, and trusting that this path, though difficult, has its own beauty.

    Living with ME/CFS has drawn me inward, toward a heart-centered approach to life. Spiritual courage has helped me see that even when my body is weak, my spirit can remain strong. It’s about connecting with something larger than myself, whether that’s through mindfulness, prayer, or simply finding peace in the present moment. It’s about living with purpose, even when the world outside feels far away.

    As I reflect on these six types of courage, I am reminded that each of them plays a role in the journey we are on. Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes, it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, “I will try again tomorrow.” For those of us living with chronic fatigue syndrome, courage is found not in grand gestures, but in the small, everyday acts of resilience, hope, and self-compassion.

    We are all courageous, in ways both seen and unseen. Let us honor that courage in ourselves and in each other, as we continue to walk this path with grace, gentleness, and the quiet strength that comes from within.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • Neti Neti Series No. 8: Embracing Amusement as a Sign of Growing Detachment

    Neti Neti Series No. 8: Embracing Amusement as a Sign of Growing Detachment

    Question:

    During my recent practice, something new occurred. Instead of feeling disturbed by the usual mental events, memories, and thoughts, I found myself experiencing a sense of amusement and relaxation as they arose and passed away. It was as if I could observe the busyness of my mind with a lighthearted detachment, seeing these thoughts as just part of the mind’s activity. Is this sense of amusement a positive development in my practice, or is it just another mental event to be noticed and let go?

    Dear friend,

    What a beautiful shift you have experienced in your practice! The transition from feeling disturbed by the mind’s activities to watching them with a sense of amusement is indeed a significant one, and it speaks to the deepening of your understanding and awareness.

    You have touched upon a subtle but profound truth: that the mind, in its busyness, is simply doing what it has always done—arising and passing away, presenting thoughts, memories, and experiences. And now, rather than being entangled in these mental events, you observe them with a light heart, a sense of amusement. This amusement is not trivial; it is a reflection of your growing detachment, your ability to see the mind’s activities for what they are—transient phenomena that do not define you.

    This sense of relaxation that accompanies the amusement is a sign of your deepening practice. No longer do you resist or try to control the flow of thoughts. Instead, you allow them to arise and pass away, knowing that they are but fleeting ripples on the surface of a much deeper stillness. This relaxation is the fruit of your perseverance, a gentle release that allows you to rest more fully in the present moment.

    While it is true that amusement is itself a mental event, it is one that points toward equanimity—a state of balance where the mind’s activities are met with calm and openness, rather than resistance or attachment. This is a significant step on your journey, as it reflects a mind that is beginning to find peace amidst the fluctuations of thought and feeling. You are learning to greet whatever arises not with annoyance or disturbance, but with a kind of playful acceptance.

    Indeed, dear friend, this experience is a step in the right direction. It shows that your practice is maturing, leading you to a place where the mind’s busyness no longer holds the same sway over you. You are learning to watch the mind with a sense of lightness, knowing that its activities are not a reflection of your true self, but simply the passing clouds of thought that move across the sky of your awareness.

    Continue with this practice, allowing the amusement and relaxation to guide you further into the stillness that lies beneath all mental activity. Trust in the process, and know that you are moving ever closer to the peace and clarity that are your true nature.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 10: Stages of Meditative Absorption: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.17 and 1.18

    Post 10: Stages of Meditative Absorption: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.17 and 1.18

    In the previous post, we explored the power of detachment and how cultivating non-distraction allows us to rest in the awareness of the Seer. Now, Patanjali takes us deeper into the process of meditation by introducing the stages of meditative absorption, where the mind gradually becomes still and clear. In Sutras 1.17 and 1.18, Patanjali outlines the progressive levels of absorption (samadhi) that arise as the mind moves from engagement with mental events to pure awareness.

    1.17: The first stage of meditative absorption is characterized by reflection, contemplation, bliss, and a sense of individuality.
    1.18: The higher stage of meditative absorption is characterized by the cessation of mental events, revealing a state of pure awareness.

    The Four Layers of Absorption

    Sutra 1.17 describes the initial stages of meditative absorption, where the mind moves through four layers of experience: reflection (vitarka), contemplation (vicara), bliss (ananda), and a subtle sense of individuality (asmita). These layers are not linear but overlapping, offering different aspects of deepening concentration and stillness.

       •   Reflection: At this level, the mind still engages with objects of focus, such as the breath or a mantra, but there is an increasing sense of calm and centeredness. The fluctuations of the mind are present, but they are observed without being disruptive.
       •   Contemplation: As the mind settles further, reflection deepens into contemplation. Here, there is less attachment to external objects and more focus on the inner experience. The mind becomes absorbed in its own stillness.
       •   Bliss: The third layer is characterized by a sense of bliss or joy that arises as the mind releases its habitual attachments. This bliss is not emotional but an inner feeling of contentment and peace.
       •   Sense of Individuality: Even at this stage, there remains a subtle awareness of oneself as an individual, the witness of the experience. This is a more refined level of the ego, still present but not as dominant as in ordinary states of awareness.

    These four layers of absorption allow the mind to rest in deeper levels of concentration, but they are still within the realm of mental events. At this stage, the practitioner is aware of the experience but has not yet transcended the subtle identification with the mind.

    Moving Toward Pure Awareness

    In Sutra 1.18, Patanjali introduces a higher stage of meditative absorption, one that is free from the pull of mental events. Here, the fluctuations of the mind have ceased, and what remains is pure awareness—often described as nirvikalpa samadhi. In this state, there is no longer any identification with thoughts, emotions, or even a subtle sense of self. The Seer abides in its pure, natural state.

    This level of absorption is not easily attained. It is the culmination of disciplined practice, non-attachment, and sustained meditation. It requires the mind to become so still that it no longer engages with even the subtlest of mental events. In this state, there is no longer a division between the Seer and what is seen; there is only pure awareness.

    This experience of pure awareness is often described as the goal of yoga. It is the state where the practitioner experiences freedom from the mind’s fluctuations and rests in the infinite stillness of the pristine mind.

    Bringing It Into Practice: Deepening Your Meditation

    As we practice, we can begin to notice these layers of absorption in our own meditation. At the beginning of meditation, the mind may still be engaged in reflection or contemplation. By gently repeating “Neti, neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer,” we allow the mind to gradually release its attachment to these mental events and move into deeper stillness.

    Over time, as the mind settles, we may experience moments of bliss or peace. These are natural signs that the mind is letting go of its habitual distractions. However, even in these moments, it’s important to remember that the goal is not to cling to these experiences but to continue moving toward deeper levels of absorption.

    The practice of cultivating pure awareness—free from the mind’s fluctuations—requires patience and persistence. Each time we return to the stillness of the Seer, we strengthen our ability to remain in that state for longer periods, eventually moving beyond the subtle sense of individuality and into the state of pure awareness.

    The Path to Pure Awareness

    The stages of meditative absorption are a gradual process, unfolding through disciplined practice and consistent effort. While the initial layers of reflection, contemplation, and bliss are important steps along the path, they are not the final goal. The ultimate aim is to experience the state of pure awareness, where the mind’s fluctuations cease, and the Seer abides in its true nature.

    As we progress on this path, it’s essential to remain patient and compassionate with ourselves. The journey toward pure awareness is not linear, and there will be times when the mind is more active or distracted. The key is to maintain a steady practice, trusting that each moment of mindfulness brings us closer to the stillness of the pristine mind.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will take a moment to pause and reflect on the journey through the Yoga Sutras so far. This will be an opportunity to contemplate how the teachings have shaped your practice and explore a guided meditation for deeper integration. After this reflective pause, we will continue the series with the next set of sutras, diving deeper into the path of self-realization.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Neti Neti Series No. 7: Deepening Practice Through Breath and Mantra Coordination

    Neti Neti Series No. 7: Deepening Practice Through Breath and Mantra Coordination

    Question:

    How does coordinating the Neti Neti mantra with the breath—such as repeating it during the inhale, pause, exhale, and pause—enhance the practice and contribute to deeper relaxation and mindfulness?

    Dear friend,

    It is a delight to hear of your latest insight, where you have begun to coordinate the mantra with the breath. This practice, so simple and yet so profound, brings together the rhythms of the body and the mind in a harmonious dance, guiding you ever deeper into the stillness that lies at the heart of all being.

    When you synchronize the mantra “Not This, Not This” with your breath, you are creating a unified rhythm that anchors you in the present moment. The mind, which so often wanders, finds a steady focus in the regularity of the breath, and this focus is reinforced by the repetition of the mantra. Each inhale, each pause, each exhale becomes a part of the sacred cycle, a cycle that quiets the mind and brings it into alignment with the natural flow of life.

    The pattern you have described—three repetitions of the mantra on the inhale, three on the pause, three on the exhale, and three on the pause—establishes a gentle, balanced rhythm. This regulation of the breath not only deepens your relaxation but also enhances your ability to remain present. The breath, in its quiet regularity, becomes a soothing presence, guiding you back to the center each time the mind begins to drift.

    In this practice, concentration becomes almost effortless. The mind, drawn into the rhythm of the breath and the mantra, finds a natural focus. The distractions that once seemed so persistent begin to fade, replaced by a calm, steady awareness. This concentration is not forced but arises naturally from the coordination of breath and mantra, leading you deeper into the silence and stillness that are your true nature.

    As you continue with this practice, you may find that your awareness expands to include both the body and the mind. The breath, as it flows in and out, becomes a bridge between the two, creating a sense of wholeness and integration. In this state, the mind is no longer separate from the body but is experienced as part of the larger rhythm of existence. This integration brings a deep sense of presence, a presence that is both peaceful and powerful.

    My dear friend, this practice you have discovered is a beautiful and effective way to deepen your meditation. Continue with it, allowing the breath and the mantra to guide you ever deeper into the stillness that lies within. Trust in the rhythm of the breath, and let the mantra carry you beyond the thoughts and distractions of the mind, into the infinite peace of your true self.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 9: The Power of Detachment: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.15 and 1.16

    Post 9: The Power of Detachment: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.15 and 1.16

    In the previous post, we explored the importance of discipline and consistent effort in mastering the mind. Now, Patanjali introduces the concept of detachment as a natural extension of that discipline. In Sutras 1.15 and 1.16, he reveals the deeper layers of non-attachment and how they lead to freedom from desires and aversions.

    1.15: Detachment is the conscious effort to let go of desires for objects or experiences, both seen and unseen.
    1.16: The highest level of detachment is achieved when there is freedom from the pull of even the most subtle mental events, leading to the experience of pure consciousness.

    The Practice of Detachment

    Detachment (vairagya) is the conscious practice of letting go of desires and aversions. In Sutra 1.15, Patanjali defines detachment as the effort to release attachments to both seen and unseen objects or experiences. This includes everything from physical possessions to emotional desires and even subtle expectations we might have about the future.

    Detachment doesn’t mean indifference or suppression of desires. Instead, it is about witnessing these desires as mental events without becoming attached to them. By observing them with clarity, we free ourselves from the push and pull of likes and dislikes. The practice of Neti, neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer helps us recognize these desires as fluctuations of the mind, not reflections of our true self.

    This conscious effort to release attachment is a key part of cultivating equanimity. The more we practice detachment, the more we are able to rest in the pristine mind—a state of awareness that is unaffected by the mind’s desires.

    The Highest Level of Detachment

    In Sutra 1.16, Patanjali describes the highest form of detachment: the ability to remain unaffected by even the most subtle mental events. At this level, we are free from the pull of both desires and aversions, and we rest in pure awareness.

    This is not a state of cold detachment, but a profound experience of freedom. When we are no longer swayed by the mind’s constant fluctuations, we experience a deep sense of peace and clarity. This is the state of kaivalya—pure consciousness—where the Seer abides in its true nature, untouched by mental events.

    Sogyal Rinpoche, a renowned meditation master, often emphasized that meditation is about cultivating non-distraction. The state of meditation is, at its core, a state of non-distraction—remaining present and aware, without being swept away by the mind’s fluctuations. This ties directly into Patanjali’s teaching on detachment. By practicing Neti, neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer, we cultivate non-distraction, allowing us to remain steady in the awareness of the Seer, free from the pull of desires and aversions. Meditation, in this sense, is the practice of being undistracted by mental events, resting in the stillness of the pristine mind.

    The highest level of detachment doesn’t come overnight. It is cultivated through disciplined practice and sincere commitment, as outlined in the previous sutras. As we grow in our ability to let go of desires, we move closer to this state of pure consciousness, where the mind’s fluctuations no longer hold sway over us.

    Bringing It Into Practice: Cultivating Detachment

    Detachment is a practice that we can cultivate daily. Each time we notice a desire or aversion arising, we can pause and observe it as a mental event. Using the phrase “Neti, neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer,” we create space between ourselves and the desire, allowing it to pass without engaging with it.

    This practice of letting go doesn’t mean we should avoid enjoying life or fulfilling our needs. Rather, it’s about maintaining a sense of equanimity, where we are not defined by our desires or driven by them. We can enjoy what life brings while remaining unattached to the outcomes, staying rooted in the awareness of the Seer.

    Over time, this practice of detachment brings a deep sense of freedom. We begin to experience life more fully, without the constant push and pull of desires, aversions, and expectations. The mind’s fluctuations lose their power, and we rest in the stillness of the pristine mind.

    The Joy of Non-Attachment

    As we grow in our practice of detachment, we discover that non-attachment is not about losing joy but about gaining freedom. When we are no longer caught up in the mind’s desires, we experience a deeper, more authentic sense of happiness. This joy arises from being present in the moment, fully engaged with life yet unattached to any particular outcome.

    Non-attachment also allows us to respond to life with greater compassion and wisdom. When we are not driven by our own desires, we can see situations more clearly and act from a place of inner stillness. This is the power of detachment—a freedom that allows us to experience life in its fullness, without becoming entangled in its fluctuations.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will explore Sutras 1.17 and 1.18, where Patanjali describes the various stages of meditative absorption and the transition from mental events to deeper states of awareness. Join me as we continue this journey toward deeper clarity, peace, and self-realization.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Neti Neti Series No. 6: Guiding the Ego and Approaching Rig-pa with “Not This, Not This”

    Neti Neti Series No. 6: Guiding the Ego and Approaching Rig-pa with “Not This, Not This”

    Question:

    How does the mantra Neti Neti help the ego by constantly negating experiences, and how does this practice relate to moments of rig-pa or the experience of deep relaxation without a sense of self?

    Dear friend,

    It brings a quiet joy to hear of your continued practice with the mantra “Not This, Not This.” There is a deep wisdom in the way you have approached this mantra, almost as if you have gently given the ego a new role—one that is not about grasping or achieving, but simply letting go. By assigning the ego the task of negation, you are engaging it in a way that transforms its usual tendencies, guiding it to release its hold on whatever arises in your mind.

    Imagine, if you will, the ego as a diligent worker, tirelessly trying to define and control your experience. But now, you have given it a simpler, more profound task: to say “Not This, Not This” to whatever appears before it. In doing so, the ego no longer needs to dominate or possess; instead, it becomes an instrument of release, of gentle detachment. This redirection of its energy allows you to experience a profound relaxation—a state of being that is free from the usual burdens of identification and striving.

    You mentioned Rig-pa, the pure, pristine awareness described in Tibetan Buddhism. This state, as you know, is one of complete clarity and non-duality, where there is no separation between observer and observed, no “I” to claim the experience. It is true that when one is fully in Rig-pa, there is no one there to say, “I have experienced Rig-pa.” It is simply the natural state, beyond all dualistic notions of self.

    Perhaps you have touched upon moments of this awareness in your practice, moments so simple and clear that they passed by without fanfare. This is often the way of such states—they do not announce themselves with grandiosity but arrive in the quiet spaces of the mind. The fact that you find this mantra particularly relaxing might suggest that you are indeed drawing nearer to this natural state, even if it is not fully apparent to the ordinary mind.

    The relaxation you feel is not just a fleeting sense of comfort—it is a deep, existential ease that arises when the mind is no longer tasked with searching or solving. “Not This, Not This” allows you to set aside the need to be anything other than what you are in this moment. It is a relaxation that goes beyond the physical or mental, touching the core of your being. This is a sign that you are moving in the right direction, toward a state of pure being, where the entanglements of the ego are gently unraveled.

    Continue with this mantra, my dear friend, for it seems to be guiding you beautifully on your journey. Trust in the relaxation you feel, for it is not merely a sign of peace, but a deepening into the essence of who you truly are. Whether or not you recognize moments of Rig-pa, know that you are cultivating the conditions for this awareness to arise naturally, in its own time and in its own way.

    Your path is unfolding with grace, and this mantra is becoming a trusted companion, leading you ever closer to the stillness and clarity that lies at the heart of all being. Continue with gentle persistence, and allow the simplicity of “Not This, Not This” to carry you further into the depths of your own true nature.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 8: The Importance of Discipline: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.13 and 1.14

    Post 8: The Importance of Discipline: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.13 and 1.14

    As we have seen in the previous sutras, Patanjali emphasizes the nature of mental events—fluctuations that arise in the mind—which can either distract us or be observed with clarity. Now, in Sutras 1.13 and 1.14, Patanjali shifts our attention to the importance of disciplined practice, showing us how consistent effort is essential in gaining mastery over the mind.

    1.13: The practice of yoga is the effort to remain steady in the awareness of the Seer.
    1.14: This practice becomes firmly grounded when pursued for a long time, without interruption, and with sincerity.

    These two sutras bring into focus the essential qualities of discipline in yoga: persistence, consistency, and sincerity. Patanjali emphasizes that mastery over the mind is not achieved through occasional effort but through sustained, dedicated practice over time.

    The Effort to Remain Steady

    Sutra 1.13 defines the practice of yoga as the effort to remain steady in the awareness of the Seer. This is where discipline truly comes into play. In our day-to-day life, the mind is constantly drawn into the fluctuations of thoughts, emotions, and external distractions. The practice of yoga, as Patanjali teaches, is the ongoing effort to maintain our awareness of the Seer—the true self—amid these fluctuations.

    This is not a passive state of relaxation but an active practice of mindfulness. Each time we notice a mental event, we have the opportunity to reaffirm our awareness of the Seer. Using the phrase “Neti, Neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer,” we can gently return to the present moment, reminding ourselves that we are not the fluctuations of the mind but the one who observes them.

    The effort here is not about forcefully suppressing thoughts or emotions, but about gently bringing the mind back to stillness each time it becomes distracted. Over time, this practice strengthens our ability to remain steady and centered, even in the face of mental events.

    The Power of Consistency

    Patanjali elaborates further in Sutra 1.14, reminding us that this practice becomes firmly grounded only when it is pursued for a long time, without interruption, and with sincerity. Consistency is key in yoga. The mind’s fluctuations are relentless, and it takes sustained effort to cultivate the steadiness of the Seer.

    Patanjali’s emphasis on long-term practice is important. Mastery over the mind doesn’t happen overnight, nor is it achieved through sporadic practice. The discipline of yoga requires us to show up again and again, each time renewing our commitment to remain present. Over time, this consistency bears fruit, allowing us to experience greater clarity, peace, and self-awareness.

    This is why sincerity is also essential. It’s not just about going through the motions of meditation or mindfulness; it’s about truly committing to the practice with an open heart. When we practice sincerely, we develop a deep sense of trust in the process, knowing that each moment of mindfulness strengthens our ability to remain in the awareness of the Seer.

    Bringing It Into Practice: Building a Steady Practice

    In practical terms, this means making space in our daily lives for consistent practice. Whether it’s through meditation, mindful breathing, or simply taking moments throughout the day to return to the awareness of the Seer, the key is to remain dedicated.

    When distractions arise, and they inevitably will, gently bring your awareness back with “Neti, Neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer.” This simple phrase helps you cultivate the steadiness that Patanjali describes, allowing you to witness the mind’s activity without becoming entangled in it.

    The power of this practice lies in its repetition. The more we engage with the process, the more natural it becomes to return to stillness. Over time, we develop a firm foundation of mindfulness that can weather even the most persistent mental events.

    Maintaining Discipline Through Sincerity

    As we practice, it’s essential to approach the discipline with sincerity. This doesn’t mean pushing ourselves harshly or becoming frustrated when the mind wanders. Instead, it’s about maintaining a gentle, loving commitment to the process. Each time we bring the mind back to the Seer, we do so with a sense of gratitude for the opportunity to deepen our awareness.

    In this way, discipline becomes less of a burden and more of an act of devotion. We are not forcing the mind into stillness; we are guiding it, with patience and sincerity, toward a deeper connection with our true nature. Over time, this practice becomes a source of joy, as we witness the mind’s fluctuations without becoming attached to them, remaining steady in the awareness of the Seer.

    Coming Up Next:

    In the next post, we will explore Sutras 1.15 and 1.16, where Patanjali introduces the concept of detachment and deeper levels of non-attachment. We will reflect on how this practice of detachment can free us from the grip of desires and aversions, allowing us to remain centered in the Seer. Join me as we continue this journey toward mastery over the mind and deeper self-awareness.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Neti Neti Series No. 5: Integrating “Not This, Not This” into Daily Life

    Question:

    How can the mantra Neti Neti continue to arise spontaneously throughout the day, and how might one practice it during ordinary tasks and interactions in the dualistic world

    Dear friend,

    As your practice deepens, it is only natural that the mantra “Neti Neti” begins to echo beyond the confines of formal meditation, weaving itself into the very fabric of your daily life. This is a beautiful and auspicious development, for the true power of this practice lies not only in moments of stillness and silence but in its capacity to transform your experience of the world in each passing moment.

    Imagine, if you will, the gentle rhythm of “Neti Neti” accompanying you throughout your day. Whether you are engaged in the simplest of tasks or the most complex of interactions, this mantra can serve as a quiet, steady undercurrent, reminding you of the deeper truth that lies beneath the surface of all appearances.

    As you move through the day, allow “Neti Neti” to arise naturally in your mind, especially when you find yourself caught up in the dualities of life—the push and pull of desires, the highs and lows of emotions, the ceaseless demands of the world around you. When a thought or feeling arises that seems to pull you away from your center, gently remind yourself, “Not This, Not This.” This simple act of negation is not a rejection of life, but rather an invitation to see beyond the fleeting, to touch the eternal within the everyday.

    Consider the ordinary tasks that fill your day—the washing of dishes, the folding of clothes, the tending to work or errands. These moments, though seemingly mundane, are fertile ground for your practice. As you engage in these tasks, silently repeat “Neti Neti” to yourself. Notice how this mantra helps to dissolve the sense of separation between you and the task at hand. The distinction between the doer and the doing, the subject and the object, begins to fade, leaving you with a simple, clear awareness of being.

    This practice brings a certain lightness to even the most routine activities, a reminder that nothing in this world can truly define or confine you. “Not This, Not This,” the mantra whispers, freeing you from the weight of identification, allowing you to move through your day with a sense of ease and grace.

    And what of your interactions with others, in this dualistic world where we often find ourselves entangled in the roles we play—the parent, the partner, the friend, the colleague? Here, too, the mantra “Neti Neti” can be a guiding light.

    When you feel the pull of attachment or aversion in your relationships, when you sense the stirrings of ego in your interactions, gently remind yourself, “Not This, Not This.” This does not mean withdrawing from the people you care about or disengaging from the world. On the contrary, it allows you to engage more fully, with a heart that is open and free from the constraints of egoic identifications.

    In this way, you interact not from a place of separation or need, but from a place of wholeness and completeness. “Not This, Not This,” the mantra says, and in doing so, it clears the way for true connection, untainted by the projections and fears that so often cloud our relationships.

    As you continue to carry “Neti Neti” with you throughout your day, you may find that the boundaries between your formal meditation and your daily life begin to blur. The mantra becomes a thread that connects all aspects of your existence, reminding you constantly of the truth that lies beyond all appearances.

    There will be moments when the mantra arises spontaneously, without any effort on your part. In these moments, let it guide you back to your center, to the stillness that underlies all movement. And in the spaces between the mantra, rest in the awareness that is your true self, free from all identifications, all dualities.

    Dear friend, this is the essence of living the practice—allowing the wisdom of “Not This, Not This” to permeate every aspect of your life, transforming the mundane into the sacred, the ordinary into the extraordinary. It is a journey of continual letting go, a path that leads ever deeper into the heart of your being.

    May your practice bring you the peace and clarity you seek, and may you walk this path with the gentle strength and quiet joy that comes from knowing you are always, already whole.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Post 7: Memory and Non-Attachment: Patanjali’s Sutras 1.11 and 1.12

    In the previous post, we explored the nature of imagination and sleep as mental events, recognizing their potential to distract us or be witnessed with clarity. Now, Patanjali takes us further into the exploration of mental events, focusing on memory and the practice of non-attachment.

    1.11: Memory is the retention of mental impressions from past experiences.
    1.12: Non-attachment is the practice of detaching from mental events, leading to mastery over them.

    These sutras offer a profound reflection on how the mind holds onto the past and how cultivating non-attachment can free us from the grip of these mental events. Memory, while useful, can often bind us to patterns of thought that shape our perception of the present. Non-attachment becomes the key to releasing these patterns and living more fully in the pristine mind.

    Memory: A Mental Event That Holds Us in the Past

    Memory (smriti) is a powerful mental event that allows us to recall past experiences, feelings, and thoughts. On a practical level, memory is essential for learning and functioning in daily life. However, when we become overly attached to our memories, they can cloud our present awareness, trapping us in patterns of the past.

    For example, we often replay old memories in our minds, reliving past successes, failures, or emotional moments. These memories can influence our current perception, making it difficult to see the present clearly. They create mental events that may feel real but are rooted in the past, shaping how we engage with the world around us.

    Just as with imagination and sleep, memory is simply another mental event. The more we engage with it, the more it pulls us away from the present moment. However, by recognizing memory as a mental event, we can observe it without becoming attached, allowing it to arise and pass without coloring our awareness of the now.

    Non-Attachment: The Key to Mastering Mental Events

    Patanjali introduces the practice of non-attachment (vairagya) in Sutra 1.12 as the means by which we gain mastery over the fluctuations of the mind. Non-attachment doesn’t mean suppressing or avoiding mental events; rather, it is the practice of witnessing them without becoming identified with them.

    In the case of memory, non-attachment allows us to remember the past without letting it control the present. By practicing Neti, Neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer., we remind ourselves that we are not the memory, but the one who observes it. This simple practice of non-attachment creates space between us and the mental event, freeing us from the patterns of the past.

    Non-attachment is not something that happens overnight. It is cultivated through disciplined practice, returning to the awareness of the pristine mind again and again. As we grow in our ability to observe mental events without attachment, we strengthen our capacity to remain present, no matter what arises in the mind.

    Bringing It Into Practice: Letting Go of Memory’s Grip

    When memories arise during meditation or daily life, it’s important to acknowledge them without getting caught in their narrative. You can simply remind yourself, “Neti, Neti. I am the witness. I am the Seer.” This helps create the mental space to witness the memory and let it go without attachment.

    In doing so, we train ourselves to let go of the past and stay rooted in the present. We begin to see memory as just another mental event, not as something that defines who we are or how we must respond to life. With each practice of non-attachment, we loosen the grip that memories have over us, freeing ourselves from the patterns that bind us to the past.

    This practice doesn’t diminish the importance of memory but helps us place it in its proper context—as a useful tool rather than an overwhelming influence. As we continue to practice non-attachment, we experience more freedom, clarity, and presence in our everyday life.

    Maintaining Discipline in Non-Attachment

    The discipline of non-attachment requires patience and consistency. The mind will naturally want to hold onto memories, but each time we observe them without attachment, we take a step closer to mastery. Non-attachment isn’t about becoming indifferent; it’s about becoming fully present, without being swayed by the mental events that arise.

    Through this discipline, we can cultivate a deeper awareness of the pristine mind—a state of clarity, peace, and presence that is untouched by the mind’s fluctuations. The more we practice non-attachment, the easier it becomes to witness mental events and remain centered in the Seer.

    Coming Up Next:

    In our next post, we will explore Sutra 1.13 and 1.14, where Patanjali explains the importance of disciplined practice in achieving mastery over the mind. We’ll reflect on how consistent effort and non-attachment work together to bring us closer to the realization of our true nature. Join me as we continue this journey toward deeper self-awareness and inner peace.

    🙏🕊️🙏



  • Perception as Creation: A Choice for Love in Challenging Times

    We live in what the ancient Chinese might have called “interesting times.” These moments test us—not only our patience and strength but also our ability to remain anchored in love. In times of upheaval, it can feel easy to get swept into fear, division, or despair. Yet, even in the storm, we carry within us a sacred choice.

    Perception, they say, is an act of creation. The lens through which we see the world shapes not only what we experience but also how the future unfolds. So, as the winds of uncertainty swirl around us, I choose to see and create love. I choose to reflect kindness, courage, and grace—just as the Divine breathes these qualities into our lives each day.

    There is a peculiar magic in this practice: when we choose to view the world through love, we begin to reshape it. The storm becomes an opportunity for deeper connection. Division becomes an invitation to understanding. Despair becomes the fertile ground for hope.

    And so, we are called—each of us—to take part in this sacred creation. It’s a quiet revolution, rooted not in politics but in our collective soul. Every act of compassion, no matter how small, weaves us back into unity. Every moment of forgiveness plants the seeds of peace. Every word of encouragement, spoken even in uncertainty, becomes a candle in the darkness.

    May we walk gently through these “interesting times,” creating love with every step. And may we remind each other, again and again, that this too is part of the divine plan unfolding—a story that invites us to be co-authors of a more just and loving world.

    🙏🕊️🙏

  • 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.

    🙏🕊️🙏