In my recent meditation, I stumbled upon something subtle yet profound. I was in a state where breathing had nearly vanished — almost breathless on the outside, yet I felt an inner breathing through the spine. That familiar spinal flow of energy was alive and vibrant.
Curious, I did something simple: I closed both nostrils with my fingers, gently. And to my surprise, that inner spinal breathing stopped immediately. Just like that — the whole current was gone. It was as if some secret support had been pulled away.
This made one thing very clear to me: even in deep, almost breathless states, a tiny, invisible stream of air continues to move through the nostrils. We don’t feel it, we don’t hear it, but it’s there — quietly holding the pranic current together. That subtle breath, almost like a shadow, allows the inner energy to circulate and nourish the subtle body.
This changes how we see high states like Savikalpa Samadhi or even the edge of Nirvikalpa. We often think that in such states the breath must stop completely. But maybe that’s not entirely true. The outer breath might vanish, the chest may stay still, yet something subtler than breath remains — something that doesn’t disturb the silence but still sustains it.
It feels like the real trick isn’t to stop the breath forcefully, but to let it become so fine and quiet that it disappears from our awareness. Not that it vanishes in reality, but it crosses the boundary of perception. Life goes on — invisibly.
Yogic texts have hinted at this. They speak of a fourth kind of breathing, beyond inhaling and exhaling — where breath is neither held nor moving, yet the yogi lives untouched. I used to read those lines like poetry. But now I see their practicality. The body breathes without breathing.
This also helps explain something else I had noticed before: that Savikalpa Samadhi — where the mind is absorbed in a form or image — may be essential before Nirvikalpa. That image, when meditated upon steadily at the Ajna Chakra, becomes a stable base. Over time, the image dissolves, but the attention remains. When the image fades, and the mind stays absorbed without object, that’s when Nirvikalpa arises. But if the mind has no stable anchor to begin with, the transition is often shaky or short-lived.
So these two realizations feel connected: first, that breath must become subtle, not forcibly stopped. Second, that a subtle image at the brow center gives the mind just enough to hold onto until it naturally lets go.
Breath and attention — both become invisible before real Samadhi. And yet, both remain gently alive in the background. The key isn’t to destroy them. The key is to stop needing to feel them.
That’s the doorway.
Demystifying Kundalini 