I’ve been reflecting deeply on something I once took lightly — the role of Savikalpa Samadhi in preparing for Nirvikalpa Samadhi.
Many seekers, especially those chasing the formless state, think Savikalpa is something to move past quickly — as if it were just a lower rung on the ladder. But experience has shown me otherwise.
In Savikalpa Samadhi, the mind is absorbed in a single form — a chosen image, mantra, or inner light. Often this is meditated upon at the Ajna Chakra, the space between the eyebrows. The form isn’t imagined with effort. It stabilizes naturally, and slowly, all other thoughts melt away. The image becomes vibrant, alive, absorbing.
Now here’s the key: this one-pointed image becomes a kind of anchor. Without it, the mind has nothing to hold onto — it keeps slipping into distractions or dullness. But with it, awareness stays awake and gathered. It doesn’t wander.
Once this deep absorption happens, something curious follows. The image itself, which had once seemed so solid, begins to fade. Not because you push it away, but because the mind becomes so still that even the object of focus dissolves. What remains is pure awareness without object — not asleep, not dreaming — just aware.
And this is what we call Nirvikalpa Samadhi — the formless, silent state beyond mind.
But without first establishing Savikalpa — without letting the mind settle deeply into a single image or mantra — Nirvikalpa is usually unstable or unreachable. It’s like trying to jump into space without standing on solid ground. There has to be a doorway.
This taught me something important: the image is not a distraction — it’s the launchpad.
In traditional yogic texts, this transition is hinted at often, but unless you experience it directly, it remains just philosophy. Now I see why the sages emphasized a form or focus in the beginning. Not because the form is ultimate, but because it becomes transparent, and then, naturally, it disappears.
To me, Savikalpa is the friendly hand of silence, guiding us to the deeper void. First, the mind clings to the form like a boat. Then, when the ocean of stillness appears, the boat vanishes — but only because it brought you to shore.
Trying to skip that first step often leads to confusion or dry emptiness. But when you embrace it fully, even formlessness becomes effortless.
Sometimes, the key to the invisible is first hidden in something visible.