How Spinal Breathing and Keval Kumbhak Opened My Door to Stillness: A Personal Journey Through Subtle Transformation

During a recent week-long spiritual ceremony — Shrimad Bhagavat Puran Saptah Shravan — I experienced something so profound yet natural that words may only scratch its surface. Each morning, I would sit silently in front of the Vyas (the orator), lay down my asana, and begin watching the breath gently move in and out. Very soon, it would begin to calm, slow, and gradually dissolve.
In that serene flow, I noticed something subtle: thoughts and old mental impressions arose not as distractions but as waves perfectly synced with the breath itself. The pace of thinking was no longer random — it was breathing itself. The passage of time changed too. An entire hour felt like just a few minutes. It wasn’t imagination — it was happening.
Then, something rarer occurred.
Infrequently, but unmistakably, the breath would entirely stop. Mind stilled completely. There was no effort to hold breath. It simply ceased, and with it, the world became a still pond. This was Keval Kumbhak — spontaneous breath suspension without control or intention. The experience was so still, it felt like someone might have left the body, yet it was deeply aware, rooted, and intimate. A sense of absorption that made even the thought of breath unnecessary. Means I was so deeply absorbed in stillness that even thinking about breathing felt unnecessary. It was as if breath didn’t matter — only silence remained. Prior to and after this stage, the feeling of the in-breath and out-breath was deeply absorbing. As I gradually moved toward full Keval Kumbhak, it began to feel as though no air was actually moving in or out — and yet, an inner breathing movement continued. The physical breath had nearly disappeared, but within, it felt as if something subtle was flowing like inner inbreathing and outbreathing movements along the spine. Also chest, abdomen and whole body was showing breath movements as usual but too subtly to allow physical air movement in and out. There was a gentle, rhythmic motion — more experiential and less overt or physical, but energetic — as if the energy itself were silently rising and falling, instead of air. This wasn’t imagined; it was vividly real. It felt as though prana had taken over the role of breath, flowing upward and downward through the central channel, the sushumna, without any air exchange. In that stillness, this inner current became more obvious — as if life itself was now circulating directly through the spine, without the need for breath. One major contributing factor that appeared to produce this state was that I was producing and conserving energy at lower chakras without releasing it outside through Tantric practice.

This experience I went through — of spontaneous stillness, subtle inner flow, and natural suspension of breath — is likely what ancient yogic texts describe using terms like “balancing prana and apana,” “the upward and downward currents,” or “the tug-of-war between prana and apana.” While these descriptions are accurate from the perspective of subtle physiology, in reality, they are just linguistic frameworks — conceptual attempts to explain what is essentially a practical and direct experience.
When we approach yoga only through these theoretical terms, it can create confusion or even fear. For a practitioner standing at the threshold of deep inner states, words like “prana-apana conflict” or “kundalini shock” can feel intimidating, and may discourage continued practice. But yoga is not meant to be a battlefield of concepts — it is a living, breathing path of experience. The body, breath, and awareness already know what to do when approached with sincerity and steadiness.
Once a genuine practical foundation is established through methods like Tantric or simple kriya yoga, spinal breathing, asana, and chakra meditation, these ancient terms begin to make intuitive sense after the fact — not before. They are meant to be confirmations, not prerequisites. When you actually feel the subtle energy dynamics within, you recognize that theory has its place, but practice is the true teacher. It’s only through consistent practice that one comes to realize: there is no need to wrestle with technical jargon. The inner intelligence of life — prana itself — begins to guide you, far more reliably than any book can.
So instead of getting caught in mental acrobatics or fearing whether prana and apana are balanced, just keep practicing. Let the breath slow, let the spine align, let stillness come. Everything else will follow naturally — not through intellectual effort, but through the quiet wisdom of the inner self.

The Hindi explanations in the afternoon had similar effects. The ambience played its part too — the sound of bells, the conch, the continuous chanting of Vedic mantras, incense, flames, and the presence of devoted priests doing their japa. The whole environment supported and gently deepened the inner silence. Some people noticed my unmoving posture and wondered how one could sit so still for so long — but I myself felt like I wasn’t doing anything.
This deep state, however, didn’t just arise from attending the event. It had a silent preparation behind it.
Every morning, I continued my routine as usual: 15 minutes of Kriya Yoga spinal breathing, followed by one hour of yogasana including chakra meditation. What I noticed over time is that spinal breathing created a sort of “potential difference” between the lower and upper chakras — a real energetic tension, not just symbolic. As this potential rose, the breath naturally became subtle and eventually stopped — Keval Kumbhak again, this time without any willful breath retention.
At first, this kriya process brought heaviness to the head — a sign that energy had risen and accumulated in the upper centers, especially Ajna. But this was not a disturbance. Interestingly, this head pressure would later discharge on its own — sometimes during Keval Kumbhak or a spontaneous moment of stillness — and the mind would become crystal clear.
On one such morning, I did my spinal breathing at 5 a.m. and then lay down on the bed. Though I had gotten little sleep the night before, I slipped into a beautiful, restful sleep for half to one hour — not drowsy, but deeply silent. On waking, the heaviness in the head was completely gone, but I could still feel the energy axis — the same potential difference — humming quietly. It felt like this charge was preserved and would discharge later at any quiet moment during the day through spontaneous Keval Kumbhak.
This left me thinking deeply: perhaps it is not always necessary to push toward stillness. The energy, once awakened, seems to have its own intelligence. It knows when to rest, when to flow, when to stop — like a river that doesn’t need help to find its sea.
As I reflected on all this, I realized: this is not an achievement but a stage of unfolding. I haven’t yet reached the full stability of Nirvikalpa Samadhi. My earlier experience of cosmic consciousness in a dream during adolescence felt even more transformative than this. That adolescent glimpse left me craving renunciation and freedom — a longing that shook my sense of reality. What I’ve experienced now, in contrast, is more peaceful, more grounded, and more systematic. The craving has lessened, but the understanding has deepened.
I now believe that Kriya Yoga is gently reintroducing what I had once touched too suddenly. Earlier, I had tried to raise energy quickly — from base to brain — skipping over the chakras, focusing only on the endpoint. Now, with more awareness, I see the importance of balance. I’ve started grounding practices as well — not through force, but simply being in the world while staying anchored in that silent current.
Sometimes the bliss is strong, sometimes it’s subtle. The energy goes up and down — and I let it. I no longer feel the need to force it into permanence. I’ve realized this: the real maturity is when bliss doesn’t chase us, nor do we chase it — it becomes a quiet companion.
These subtle breathless moments, these silent pauses — whether during a ritual, after kriya, or randomly in the day — have taught me more than many words ever could. I now see spiritual growth not as something I must accomplish, but something I must allow.
And perhaps, that’s what it means to truly begin the inner journey.

Unlocking Bliss at the Ajna Chakra: A Real Kriya Yoga Experience of “Eating Air”

Sometimes, the most unexpected experiences during breathwork reveal deep truths. What started as a simple observation during my Kriya Yoga practice became a subtle, yet profound moment—where breath didn’t just fill the body but seemed to nourish the soul.

Let me share something that might feel familiar if you’ve walked the path of breath and awareness.

The Subtle Discovery

While practicing Kriya Yoga, I noticed that when I simply filled air into the belly, it didn’t bring any blissful satisfaction. It felt like air was just going in—mechanically, lifelessly. But then something shifted.

I gently turned my inner gaze upward toward the Ajna Chakra—the space between the eyebrows—while breathing in. To my surprise, it was as if some vibrations moved upward, along with the breath. And suddenly, a blissful satisfaction emerged, as if I was eating the air itself. Not just inhaling it—but receiving it, drinking it, being nourished by it.

It wasn’t forced or imagined. It came naturally, like a soft wave of fulfillment that appeared when breath met inner attention.

What I Realized

After reflecting deeply (and with guidance), I came to see what was really happening.

  1. Belly-only breathing works with the lower pranic force—Apana Vayu—which is grounding, but not necessarily uplifting or blissful.
  2. When the gaze moves to the Ajna Chakra during inhalation, another current awakens—Udana Vayu, the upward pranic force that supports clarity, spiritual lift, and subtle joy.
  3. This combination creates a moment where the inner prana (life-force) begins to move upward through the Sushumna Nadi, the central channel described in yogic texts.
  4. The Ajna Chakra, in that moment, seems to “drink” the air like amrita (nectar), giving rise to what I experienced as “blissful satisfaction of eating air.”

It wasn’t just a technique. It felt more like an inner shift in the way the body and soul relate to breath. This deepened my Kriya practice naturally—not by force, but by noticing what was already trying to happen.

How I Refined My Practice

From this, I created a refined variation of Kriya Yoga that worked with this blissful “air-eating” phenomenon. Here’s how it unfolds:

1. Preparation (1–2 mins):

  • Sit upright and still.
  • Let the breath settle.
  • Gently turn the gaze inward and upward, resting attention between the eyebrows.

2. Inhale: Sip the Breath Into Ajna

  • Inhale slowly through the nose.
  • Imagine the air being drawn through the Ajna Chakra, not the nostrils.
  • Let the belly expand naturally, but keep 80% of awareness at Ajna.
  • Feel a wave of coolness or subtle bliss, as if the air is being “tasted” by the inner eye.

3. Optional Pause:

  • Briefly pause at the top of the inhale (1–2 seconds).
  • Let the Ajna “digest” the prana.

4. Exhale: Let the Awareness Rest

  • Exhale slowly.
  • Let awareness descend into the heart or belly.
  • No effort—just presence and letting go.

5. Repeat (9–18 cycles initially):

  • With each cycle, the experience deepens. The mind becomes still, the body light, and a subtle bliss lingers like a fragrance.

How Many Cycles? What’s Safe and Effective?

To keep it gentle yet deep:

  • I started with 12 cycles per session.
  • When it felt grounding and calming, I went up to 24–36 cycles.
  • When energy felt too intense or “floaty,” I scaled back to 6–12 and added grounding.

Important Signs I Watch For

Positive indicators:

  • Mental clarity
  • Stillness and ease after practice
  • Gentle bliss at Ajna without pressure or force

When to scale back:

  • Head heaviness or spaciness
  • Restlessness or emotional shakiness
  • Feeling too detached or ungrounded

On intense days, it’s better to do fewer cycles or balance it with grounding techniques—walking barefoot, warm food, or awareness in the lower belly.

What I’ve Not Yet Reached, But Walk Toward

Though I’ve had brief inner openings and unmistakable experiences of bliss during practice, I do not claim to have entered Nirvikalpa Samadhi or any final stage of realization. These glimpses feel like whispers from the deeper Self, not destinations. There is no need to exaggerate or label these moments. I remain a seeker who’s simply watching what unfolds naturally.

What I do know is this: The path gets more real when small things—like a shift in gaze or breath—open inner doors.

Closing Reflection

You don’t need to chase big spiritual fireworks. Sometimes, the truth gently rises like breath into the Ajna, bringing with it a moment of fulfillment so real, it feels like eating air.

If you’ve practiced Kriya Yoga or even just mindful breathing, try this:
Turn your gaze inward. Let the breath come in like a gift to your Ajna. Don’t force. Just receive.

You may discover, like I did, that the air we breathe isn’t just oxygen—it’s subtle nourishment, a sacred food for the soul.

Keval Kumbhak, Turiya, and the Simplicity That’s Often Overlooked

I began reflecting on a very personal and experiential question: If deep sleep is experienced with self-awareness, can it be called Kaivalya or Turiya? What is the nature of this awareness — not just philosophically, but from within my own being? I felt that watching the sleep state unfold — not as a dream, but as awareness of the sleep itself — seemed to hint at something beyond ordinary waking or dreaming states.

But then the paradox arose: in deep sleep, there are no thoughts. So how could there be any “witnessing” if the instrument of thought was absent? I kept asking myself: How is it even possible to say one witnessed deep sleep without a trace of mental activity?

And then a deeper question emerged: If this witnessing without thought in deep sleep is already so subtle and mysterious, how can Kaivalya be ahead of it? Shouldn’t this be the final frontier?

A vivid image arose in me — like the sky watching the weather. And I wondered, does the weather represent thought? Then what is sky? It is just being. The sky remains unchanged, whether storms or silence pass through. In the same way, awareness remains, whether thoughts arise or fall silent.

Witnessed Deep Sleep (Conscious Sushupti): No ego, no mind, but awareness remains. This is Turīya.

Kaivalya: Even the notion of “I am witnessing” dissolves — there is just the Self, no relation to states. By going deeper within, even Turiya dissolves into Kaivalya — the ultimate and final state.

But another question surfaced — in this context, is this self-awareness in Turiya or Kaivalya depicted as light? And if so, why? After all, there is no physical light, nor even the shimmer of thought. Yet, something in that awareness feels radiant — not bright like a bulb, but self-luminous — a knowing that knows itself.

It felt as if ordinary deep sleep is darkness, but when deep sleep is entered with awareness — it becomes light. Not in terms of visual brilliance, but as pure self-awareness. A very subtle, unshakable presence.

The soul is often likened to light — not because it is something visible itself, but because, like light, it makes everything else perceivable. Light, by its nature, remains unseen unless it reflects off an object. When it touches matter, matter becomes visible. Similarly, the soul or pure consciousness is not an object of experience — it cannot be seen, touched, or grasped — yet it is that by which all experiences are made known. Just as light reveals forms without itself having form, the soul illumines thoughts, emotions, dreams, and even silence, without being any of them. When consciousness touches the mind, the contents of the mind become known. When it withdraws, only itself remains — luminous, still, and self-aware.

Most people tend to misunderstand the soul. They imagine it as a kind of shimmering, radiant substance — something glittering to be chased in the outer world. This misconception fuels an endless pursuit of worldly experiences, pleasures, achievements, or emotional highs, mistaking these for glimpses of the soul. In doing so, they often fall deeper into illusion. Yet, if approached with clarity and right understanding, even this outward journey doesn’t go to waste. Through this extroverted chase, some eventually reach a peak experience — a moment of dazzling inner light often referred to as Savikalpa Samadhi or awakening. This moment satisfies a deep craving. And after this satisfaction, a quiet turning happens — they begin to seek not the shimmering reflections, but the pure, thoughtless source of that light. This marks the inward journey, toward the still and self-aware silence of the true Self — beyond shimmer, beyond form.

Then another analogy struck me: if deep drunken states also contain long intervals of no-thought, and sometimes one feels that they are aware without thought and even blissful — is that like Turiya? Isn’t that awareness still there, despite the body being non-functional? In fact, I observed that in drunken states, sometimes self-awareness feels more prominent than in deep sleep, even though both are devoid of thought.

In such intervals during drunkenness, there can be full cessation of thought, accompanied by a sense of being present, sometimes even with bliss. And yet, we don’t usually equate that with higher spiritual states. Why? However this state is full of ego offcourse in depressed state and there’s also no surrender in this state but it’s illusory or forced or pseudo surrender.

That led me to the heart of the matter. Why is Keval Kumbhak — the effortless, natural cessation of breath — not given its due credit as perhaps the most direct, reliable, and simple gateway to Turiya and Kaivalya? Why are all the complex techniques and doctrines more popular, despite being less scientific or accessible? I asked this from myself for I prefer Keval Kumbhak as the most direct path to the final result, without getting entangled in unnecessary jargon.

The answer became clear after listening inwardly — and hearing from sources that resonate from experience rather than theory.

Keval Kumbhak is the master key — but it is subtle. It’s not something you do, but something that happens when thought, effort, and breath all come to stillness together. Not forcibly, but through surrender, through inner silence.

Because it is so ego-less and natural, it is often overlooked. You can’t package it, can’t teach it step-by-step like a mechanical breathing practice. It arises when the pranic mind quiets, when even wanting to achieve something has died.

And yet, popular methods are often complex because they give the ego something to cling to — a path, a technique, a sequence. They cater to the mind, not to the silence beyond it. And so, Kriya, chakras, visualizations, and other practices dominate the landscape.

But truth, I realized, is simple. Keval Kumbhak can’t be sold. That’s partly why it remains hidden. Also, because if someone is not inwardly ready, they might try to force it — and that very force keeps them from discovering its real nature.

Interestingly, authentic Kriya Yoga, when practiced deeply and subtly, can lead to Keval Kumbhak naturally. The repeated inner breathing calms the prana so deeply that breath begins to pause on its own. That’s when the magic happens. Not because you made it happen — but because all effort ceased.

Over time, the inhale and exhale become so subtle that you enter the gap. And there, breath stops, thought stops, ego stops. And you remain. That is not sleep, not dreaming — that is the taste of Turiya.

But even in Kriya circles, this is often missed. People get caught up in numbers, techniques, effects, visions — and miss the most sacred: the silent presence that remains when breath and thought are no more. Others expect a dramatic mystical event, not recognizing that breathless awareness is itself the miracle.

That’s what Keval Kumbhak really is — the doorway to yourself. A doorway not with hinges, but with stillness.

And yes, it’s true — I haven’t yet fully entered Nirvikalpa Samadhi. I’ve tasted states of silence, even seen the movement of awareness without thought. I’ve watched my own deep sleep and noticed its transitions. I’ve seen how drunken stillness can sometimes mimic that gap. But I’m still walking this mysterious, beautiful path — open, curious, and more silent than ever before.

And I now know, without doubt, that the real secret was never far. It was simply the breathless silence behind all things, always available when I stop seeking and simply remain.

That is where I now return again and again. Into that breathless cave, where neither dream nor sleep nor ego can follow.

Into that which simply is.

The Power of Breath and Meditation: A Personal Journey

I’ve found that the simplest things, when practiced with awareness, have the potential to shift our entire experience. One such practice is yoga breathing, something that has helped me transform my daily life in ways I never anticipated. It’s not just a matter of breathing; it’s about becoming deeply aware of the breath throughout the day and learning to regulate it, creating a natural flow of calm and clarity. This realization started with a deep connection to the breath itself, something that yoga breathing nurtures effortlessly.

I began noticing that yoga breathing makes an ordinary breath feel regular and perceptible all day long. When you practice breathing with intention, it becomes something you can always be aware of, a constant thread running through your day. It’s like it’s always present, just waiting to help you center yourself in any moment. This presence and awareness of the breath naturally create a sense of inner peace and connection to the present, even amidst distractions.

One thing I’ve experienced is that, as I become more attuned to my breath, everything in life seems to become peaceful. Not just a passing sense of calm, but a deep, lasting peace. It’s as if the regular practice of being mindful of the breath is starting to shape my intellect and intelligence, making me approach everything with greater clarity. The more I breathe with awareness, the more I feel my thoughts becoming clearer and my emotions more balanced. This change is especially noticeable in my relationships, where there’s now a sense of understanding and no enmity felt for anyone, no matter what might have happened before. I’ve learned to let go of bad experiences rather than holding onto them, allowing them to slip away and fade into the background.

This doesn’t mean everything is perfect. There are still moments where that peace fades, and it becomes challenging to maintain that clarity. I’ve noticed that the peace I feel after practicing breathwork can fade if I don’t consistently dedicate time to the practice. The solution, I found, is daily practice of Kriya breathing, a technique that provides enough strength and focus to anchor that sense of inner peace for a longer period. Without it, the effects are temporary. But when I practice regularly, especially with deep commitment, I can feel the lasting effects not just for hours but through the day.

I’ve also noticed that spinal breathing is incredibly effective for me, particularly when I wake up around 3-4 AM. This time feels sacred, as if the world around me is quieter, and the energy within me is more accessible. When I engage in spinal breathing at this hour, a sense of head pressure develops after some breathins, likely from the energy rising through the sushumna nadi. It’s a familiar sensation, one that tells me something is shifting. After some time, I let myself sleep again with help of chanting soham mentally with breathings, and when I wake, the head pressure is relieved, but the effect of the breathing practice lingers, adding a sense of lightness, clarity, and peace that carries me through the day. It’s almost as if the energy becomes deeply embedded within me, and its effects continue, even without active focus.

That lingering effect—where the peaceful, grounding sensation stays with me—is perhaps the most profound aspect of this practice. Even when I’m not consciously thinking about it, I can feel a subtle undercurrent of calm and clarity throughout my day. It’s as though my entire energy field is recalibrated each time I practice. This has been especially noticeable in how I approach tasks. Things that might have once caused stress or frustration now feel lighter, and I can move through them with more ease.

But, of course, I’m still on a journey. I haven’t yet achieved everything I envision for myself. Nirvikalpa Samadhi still feels distant, and I haven’t fully arrived at that state of unchanging bliss I once glimpsed. But I’ve experienced enough glimpses to know the truth of its potential. The practices, like Kriya Yoga, continue to shape me, helping me refine my approach to both life and spiritual growth.

Every day, I find myself stepping closer to the state I aim for, and I’m learning to integrate this practice not as a goal, but as an ongoing process. It’s not about reaching some final destination but rather about allowing this energy and peace to infiltrate every moment. The more I practice, the more I experience a shift in my relationship with myself and the world around me. The breath, once an unconscious process, has become a tool for transformation—spiritually, mentally, and emotionally.

I believe that anyone can experience this transformation, no matter where they are on their journey. The practice of yoga breathing, especially when paired with spinal breathing and Kriya Yoga, creates a gateway to deeper awareness and inner peace. And even if you’re just starting, you don’t need to wait for the perfect moment to begin. Every breath is an opportunity to align yourself with the present and to let go of what no longer serves you. And through that, the world becomes a little brighter, and we become a little lighter.

In the end, it’s not about achieving a perfect state but about becoming more fully present in the unfolding of life—breathing in peace, breathing out clarity, and allowing the rhythm of the breath to carry us through each day. The journey, I believe, is just beginning.

Tantric-Kriya Awakening: The Most Powerful Yet Practical Path

Disclaimer:

This post discusses Tantric sexual practices and may contain sexually explicit content. Proper guidance is essential, as incorrect practice may cause physical, emotional, or psychological imbalances. This content is for informational purposes only and not a substitute for expert instruction. Practice responsibly and at your own risk.

In my spiritual journey, I have experimented with different approaches to energy awakening. While many people talk about Kriya Yoga and breathwork, my own experience has shown me that nothing compares to the power of Tantra—especially Tantric Maithuna—as a kickstarter.

My Awakening Through Tantra

Whenever I started from Tantric Maithuna, I experienced profound and blissful awareness similar to my glimpse of full awakening though at lower grade to it almost instantly. Then I turned to solo practice when prostate issues made it problematic. But honestly, after experiencing the real impact of Tantra, I found that solo practice is nothing but scrap in front of this.

I have also heard about meditation at the tip of the Linga while energizing in the Yoni. The process works like this:

Meditation image is contemplated continuously on Linga tip sensation while during spiritual union. Reaching the peak point of sensation—just before ejaculation—where the limit of tolerance is almost crossed.

Instead of letting the Yoni contractions trigger ejaculation, the Linga is withdrawn just before crossing the threshold.

Then, using yogic breathing, the meditation image rises along with the sensational energy through Sushumna.

Finally, when the energy reaches Sahasrara, the meditation image becomes lively, instantly producing all spiritual qualities.

For weeks, this low grade awakening remains. But worldly pull tends to draw the energy downward again, no doubt.

Why Tantra is More Powerful Than Solo Kriya Practice

Many believe Kriya alone is enough for spiritual transformation. But my experience tells a different story.

✔ Prana flows upward with inhalation, but the real question is—how does it come down from the chest? This is where Apana (the downward force) plays a role. If I explain it further, I mean that the accumulation of energy in the brain causes headache, heaviness in the head, a feeling of unconsciousness or darkness or joylessness or uneasiness. There is no dedicated channel to bring the energy down from the brain like the Sushumna. Of course some yogis take the energy down through the imaginary front channel, but this seems to be a makeshift arrangement and is not very efficient. In Kriya, the energy is also taken down through the Sushumna. But this is also a similar arrangement because the Sushumna is made to take the energy upwards. If a one way road is made two way, you can understand what will happen. On the contrary, the consort tied to the Yabyum is the best and most effective channel to bring the energy down. This makes the energy move like a truck in a loop road and continuously pours the loaded cargo in the form of meditation picture into the Sahasrara. That’s why Tantra works on Prana-Apana union, ensuring a strong energy circuit instead of just mechanical breathing. Let me just elaborate it little more. In solo practice, prana and apana sparingly move together. If it’s made possible with techniques even then movement isn’t that appreciable. But during yab-yum union, when in breathing causes prana move up, apana simultaneously flows through the consort’s body down. This is probably to balance prana and apana. This rotates energy constantly in dynamic loop. Energy is also of high intensity due to less restriction in movement. Prana and apana also meet together in this way constantly. In solo practice, while breathing in causing prana to move up, apana is visualised as coming down through front of body. This is done to unite prana and apana and to keep them in dynamic rotation. But front part of body is not as dedicated channel for apana movement as separate body of consort. Also solo method requires much practice. Probably backbone of consort acts as down channel for apana movement. Consort is actually embodied shakti. It’s real. It’s not just like visualising yoni or shakti in muladhara during solo practice as in yoni mudra, vajroli etc. Majority of advanced and secret hathyoga techniques are actually based on real sexual tantra.

✔ Kriya breath—whether it be spinal breathing, internal breathing, or reverse breathing—it somewhat mimics the energy movement as it happens in tantric union. But if there’s no sexual energy generated at the base, why pump a dry well? Although naturally too, sexual energy itself goes up compiling in lower chakras by default but it’s too slow as compared to tantric build up.

✔ That’s why a mix of both Tantra and Kriya is the most efficient approach. First, generate energy at the base (Tantra), then refine and lift it (Kriya). Refining means superimposing meditation image on energy. I’ll describe it in detail in next post.

Since I have already held the awakened state for weeks, I can confidently say that Tantra produces the most direct and undeniable spiritual shift. But let’s be real—this practice can’t be sustained for long periods because the physical body has its limits.

The Reality of Sustaining the Awakened State

Since the body has limitations, the next question is: How to sustain this awakening without frequent practice?

Here’s what I have learned:

Shifting From Physical to Mental Practice

Once the meditation image is fully alive in Sahasrara, one doesn’t always need the physical act.

Instead of restarting from Linga-Yoni, one can begin directly in Sahasrara and tap into the same energy state.

Energy Memory Activation

Every practice leaves a deeper imprint in the system. Meditation image linked to awakening adds up to this memory. But I just can’t do it that’s why I take help of kriya breathing. It’s a well balanced approach.

Over time, just recalling the experience can trigger the same state without any physical stimulation. However it seems remote or difficult without taking help of kriyas.

Letting the Energy Circulate in Daily Life

Instead of letting the world unconsciously bring energy down, I consciously direct it. I have made myself the controller of mine, not the world.

A soft Ujjayi breath during normal activities can keep the higher state subtly active in the background. Instead of it, holographic sharirvigyan darshan is enough for me.

Despite this, in today’s chaotic world, purely mental activation without a physical trigger is difficult. That’s why a flexible approach is the most realistic—adapting between Tantra and Kriya based on the situation.

What I Haven’t Achieved Yet & What I Believe Is Possible

I won’t make exaggerated claims. I have held the awakened like state for long time, but the world eventually pulls it down.

I have also realized that Kriya alone can achieve the same awakening—if done for countless hours and repetitions. But in today’s chaotic era, that’s unrealistic. That’s why my practical approach is:

✔ Generate and refine energy with Tantra when possible. ✔ Use Kriya to refine and lift it. ✔ Adapt based on life’s situations.

Through all of this, I’ve realized something important:

✔ Rigid methods don’t work. ✔ Tantra alone is not healthy and social. Kriya alone is not enough. ✔ A mix of both—based on the situation—is the fastest, strongest, and most practical path.

This is not just theory. This is my own lived experience. And I can say without a doubt—this path works.

Keval Kumbhak, The Warrior’s Path, and the Battle of Integration

For a long time, I have noticed inflammatory pressure in the lower chakras, possibly linked to my prostate and ASA. I think it was the main reason for my quick keval kumbhak when I pushed it up through deep kriya breathing with spinal awareness. It’s just wareness of breath moving up and down just opposite to air movement inside. That’s why it’s also called reverse breathing or spinal breathing or inner breathing. I think my energy was stagnating near lower chakras that was activated and circulated in proper way with kriya breathing. When I started deep spinal breathing in Kriya Yoga, it quickly escalated into Keval Kumbhak—a state where breathing ceases naturally. This happened within days, without deliberate effort. The spinal ascending of shakti or inflammatory sensation of lower parts to brain that often preceded with keval kumbhak was quite blissful. That low grade prostate inflammation was reoccurring only with seminal withholding in Tantric Yoga, but diminishing with a few days of ordinary Kundalini Yoga through uprising, as the bliss reached the brain.

The upward movement of energy—rising through the spine and reaching the brain—was what brought the real bliss. It means this energy was in raw or poorly expressed form near lower chakras. But after ascending to brain, it was transformed into meaningful and blissful energy. Help from meditation image was additional. It gave blissful energy the pleasant visual appearance rather than dispersed abstract thoughts. These thoughts disperse energy all around in the worldly chaos instead single meditation image keep it focused. Due to single pinpoint meditation image getting most of the bliss and energy, it becomes better anchor mainly when hooked to agya chakra to pull and flow prana through sushumna to cause keval kumbhak. Dispersed and varying thoghts results in energy devided between them. This makes them less expressed or energetic that can’t provide enough pull to prana upwads through sushumna.

What I specifically seen is that during worldly business moods when hologram based sharirvigyan darshan is just thought of, the meditation image immediately appears in left side of brain. It’s because in worldly business left side of brain is more active. Then while little blinking the eyes and giving little attention towards both eyes, it tends to come to agya chakra at eyebrows centre. In that way it seems helping bend prana flow from left ida channel to central sushumna channel occassionally after little swinging towards right side pingla channel. This results in better feeling. May be spiritual swinging on a swing rope tied to big holy tree in shrawan month in the name of Lord krishna also denotes the swinging nature of prana in  channel.

Formerly, my approach was more dynamic, but now, I prefer a calm sitting practice at 9:30 PM, in Siddhasana, with normal breathing, mentally chanting Soham with each breath. It can lead to keval kumbhak automatically when one needs to surrender to event rather stressing in physical or mental activity. Mental chanting of soham even stopped itself. I have avoided deep pranayama at night due to feeling heavy after meals, despite eating lightly (like moong dal rice khichari) around 6:30 PM. My primary session remains a two-hour morning practice at 4:30 AM, when my belly is fully empty. There I attempt almost every type of yogic activity as per need and situation. I found way of Jainism community very healthy and meditational in this regard. They always finish their dinner before sunset and thereafter nothing eat. This is particularly helpful for people like me with issues of gerd and related sleep apnea.

Over time, I have been reducing daily spiritual activities while engaged in world in day time, instead gradually withdrawing into deeper spiritual focus during sadhna. For day time awareness, my purpose has been largely fulfilled through hologram based Sharirvigyan Darshan (body-awareness insight), which has resolved the need for constant spinal awareness, though I remain open to experimenting with it. During daily activities, Sharirvigyan Darshan serves as a momentary pause, allowing instant grounding without extra effort. It’s main advantage is that it’s two in one, means it also provides meditative awareness along with physical grounding. Only physical grounding isn’t enough for quick progress seekers. I recall it whenever needed rather than forcing continuous awareness.

Keval Kumbhak and Its Effects on Meditation

Ancient Hatha Yoga texts state that prolonged Keval Kumbhak (more than an hour) can lead to supernatural powers (siddhis). I have reached this state for two hours continuously, yet I have not observed these effects. Possible reasons:

These may be allegoric to attract more and more people towards real yoga. This thing I believe most at present although open to other explanations too like –

Siddhis depend on latent samskaras—if they are not within my tendencies, they may not manifest.

Keval Kumbhak alone is not enough—traditionally, siddhis arise when combined with one-pointed meditative absorption on tattvas (elements) or deities related to those siddhis.

Siddhis arise based on desire—since I do not seek them, they may not appear.

My path naturally bypasses siddhis—Kriya and Kundalini Yoga tend to dissolve them, as the focus is on higher states of awareness.

Instead of siddhis, Keval Kumbhak enriched my meditation image as l concentrated on it while situated in it as per my regular meditation habit, thus making it too strong near to self-existing—no longer requiring effort to sustain. It became more vivid, stable, and effortlessly present, almost like a mirror or a weapon. I am the warrior, and the image is my sword or shield in this battle for realization. I have seen many experts of yoga who even hold every single yoga pose for hours and have practiced each single pose for months to perfect it yet they are far away from samadhi and even Keval kumbhak. Even they are experts in different mudras, kumbhakas, cleansing processes like shatkarmas etc. In this regard original simple kriya yoga seems better as it quickens the process so much.

An Inborn Warrior in the Spiritual Battlefield

This warrior-like nature was not something I developed—it was inborn. My path was never about passive surrender but about active conquest, cutting through distractions and inner resistance. It’s real kshatriya stand just as great kshatriya sage Vishwamitra and many others shown. Many take realization as something that happens; for me, it has always been something that must be fought for and won.

Yet, the true battle is not just spiritual—it is integration. How to balance the world and spirituality? This is not a challenge that ends with enlightenment. It never ends.

Spirituality gives power, but life demands engagement.

The world tests realization, forcing it to be applied, not just experienced. If realization is the sword, the world is the battlefield where it’s tested.

The balance never settles permanently—one must adapt continuously.

Keval Kumbhak, the self-existing meditation image, and my inner warrior nature have shaped me into someone who does not retreat from the world but also does not lose himself in it. This is my battle of integration, one that has no finish line, no final resting place.

I do not claim to have achieved everything—I still navigate this path, testing and refining it. But I see it clearly: it is not a journey that ends, but one that evolves, deepens, and sharpens over time.

This is the warrior’s way—not renouncing life, not getting lost in it, but standing firm, weapon in hand, facing both the world and the infinite within.

Direct Awakening Through Kutastha: My Experience

Many say working with chakras and the spine is necessary for spiritual progress, but Kriya yoga Guru Mukherjee’s words struck me deeply—only concentrating on Kutastha (the spiritual eye) leads to salvation. He claimed that focusing on chakras for eons won’t bring liberation. I now understand why.

From the very beginning, I forced energy into Kutastha using Tantra. Or should I say, I meditated directly in the brain. I did not have any special knowledge and experience of chakras at that time. After awakening, I worked lightly on chakras but never let energy linger there. This led to a quick awakening. Unlike traditional methods that ascend gradually, my approach bypassed stages and reached the threshold directly. When energy wasn’t dissipated into chakras or the spine, the shift happened swiftly.

Yet, awakening came with a new challenge—balance. At that time I had become detached from worldly affairs. Deep and heavy work used to inflame meditation image in the mind along with pleasure. It used to increase the pressure in the mind and of course pleasure also. However, I used to get great help from leftist tantra (mainly yin-yang type) to control it. My energy naturally moves up and down now, but staying grounded is necessary. For this, I practice chakra meditation daily. I hold my breath on each chakra, visualizing its color, grain, and bija mantra, moving from top to bottom. Without Tantra, grounding takes a little time; with it, it happens instantly.

I’ve heard of many grounding techniques, but I only explore them for research, not necessity. My system stabilizes well with Tantra and chakra meditation. This direct method works for me. The key insight? Salvation happens when energy fully settles in Kutastha without dispersing. Focusing elsewhere delays it.

For those seeking the fastest route—aim for Kutastha, stabilize with chakra meditation, and use Tantra when needed. Awakening is simple when you don’t overcomplicate the path.