A few days ago, something unusual happened. A boy in my house did a major mischief, and before I even realized it, a few objectionable words flew from my mouth. It felt completely unintentional. There was no anger in me at that moment, not even the conscious urge to speak harshly. The words just erupted on their own—as if they had a life of their own, like husk flying off from a wheat thresher. It left me puzzled. Were those words hiding in my subconscious, waiting for the right trigger?
After it happened, I felt disturbed. The boy sensed the energy too. I immediately told him, with honesty, that it had occurred without my knowledge. To help him understand and not carry any burden from it, I gently advised him never to use bad words, even in fun. I told him that such words may settle in the subconscious without our realizing it, and one day, they may come out impulsively—just as they did from me. He understood. A small, sensitive heart can often grasp the truth far more deeply than we assume.
But there was more to it. I had also been on a stretch of spicy, ceremonial meals over the past few days. These delicious foods, though celebratory, can disturb the inner terrain, especially for someone like me with a sensitive system and occasional GERD. Along with the physical inflammation, I began feeling tightness in my throat—a pressure that seemed to go beyond just acidity. It felt energetic.
In that same phase, I had begun a breath regulation practice. I was experimenting with a short withholding of breath after exhalation in the morning at times, after having meals. It was not forceful, but gentle—a way to regularize the breath and subtly dislodge recent emotional attachments, especially to manipulative or mischievous energies I had encountered in ceremonies. In the morning with fully empty stomach, this practice felt safe. It even brought clarity. But when I tried similar breath holds at other times of day, especially after meals, it seemed to trigger the very symptoms I was trying to release: throat tightness, irritation, even heat.
This made me reflect more deeply. The early morning kumbhaka (breath-hold after exhale) was harmless and even helpful. My stomach was empty, the energy calm, and the breath flowed with natural rhythm. But later in the day, especially when the stomach was processing food, the same breath control created an upward pressure that worsened my GERD and throat discomfort.
That’s when a larger picture began to form. The words I had spoken to the boy didn’t emerge from anger. They came out of that very throat irritation. It wasn’t a psychological reaction—it was a physical-energetic overflow. As if my body, unable to contain the pressure, vomited the words out. The cause was not the mind, but the body—and yet the words, once released, added to the emotional disturbance, which in turn worsened the physical irritation. A complete cycle was in motion—body affecting mind, mind feeding back into body.
This insight hit me deeply. I realized that speech, especially uncontrolled or involuntary speech, can be a direct expression of unresolved physical or energetic congestion. The Vishuddha Chakra—the throat center that governs expression—was not in its balance. And instead of filtering or transmuting the pressure, it had let it escape as sound, as words.
From here began a healing movement.
I gently stepped back from any breath retention after meals. I let the throat rest. I softened the diet—light khichdi, buttermilk, tender coconut water. I also began softly humming in the early morning, a vibration that didn’t disturb but instead soothed the irritated Vishuddha center. I continued my short, safe morning kumbhaka—holding breath only after exhaling, for just a few calm seconds, and only when it felt completely light and effortless. And also spinal breathing of Kriya yoga. I visualized blue light washing the throat from within, healing the leftover irritation, restoring the natural silence beneath speech.
And more importantly, I began to forgive myself—not from the mind, but from the heart. I saw clearly that it wasn’t me who had chosen those words. It was a confluence of physical inflammation, subconscious residue, and energetic imbalance. But I also saw that by acknowledging it, by explaining it honestly to the boy, and by reflecting deeply on it, something transformed. The cycle broke. Means, I advised the boy never to use bad words, even in fun, as they can lodge in the subconscious without our awareness and may resurface at any time without our knowing. The boy understood the message, and thus, this annoying incident was transformed into a mutual learning experience.
In those moments, I realized again that spiritual work doesn’t always unfold in calm meditation or grand insights. Sometimes, it takes the shape of an unguarded word, a burning throat, a realization in the midst of imperfection. I haven’t reached any final state. I’m still learning. Still refining. But this experience gave me a lived taste of how intricately our body, breath, energy, and subconscious are intertwined.
The throat chakra isn’t just about speaking truth. It’s about carrying the truth even when the body is inflamed and the subconscious is stirred. It’s about a silence that arises not from suppression, but from resolution. However, a mental trigger is still needed to initiate any action from the body — the body alone cannot act on its own. Therefore, it is essential to keep the mind clean and clear at all times, so that it does not provide even the slightest trigger for the body to initiate an unsocial response.
And if one word can erupt from pain, another can emerge from healing. That second word, spoken with awareness, has the power to restore not only the throat but also the heart. And in doing all this, it turned into a kind of funny play—life showing its strange humor through it all.
Demystifying Kundalini 