Once, after undergoing an endoscopy, I experienced a strange and unexpected shift—a transformation marked by a subtle but clear nondual awareness. It wasn’t the usual meditative insight or blissful state. It was raw, neutral, and intensely present. I could feel the endoscope entering, touching the inner lining of my stomach, crossing it, and going even deeper into the small intestine, right into the belly’s core. The body was utterly passive—there was no choice, no resistance that could prevent the process. What ego remains in a body that cannot stop the entry of an unwelcome foreign object? That question echoed somewhere deep and unfamiliar.
Though I didn’t feel that it changed anything on the surface immediately, with time, I started sensing that some layer of my subconscious structure had been pierced. The sense of control, subtle tension, and the feeling of “I am the body” had taken a hit—not visibly shattered, but weakened. This moment didn’t bring sudden enlightenment or peace. But it quietly accelerated a journey I was already on—a path of nonduality, one increasingly flavored by a kind of holographic sharirvigyan darshan, a direct perception of the body not as “mine,” but as a transparent field of changing phenomena.
Looking back, the whole experience now feels similar to what yogic traditions aim for in dhauti kriya. Especially in Vastra dhauti or Vaman dhauti, where cloth or water is intentionally introduced into the digestive tract. These aren’t just about cleaning the stomach. They are about softening the grip of the ego through raw confrontation with the body’s inner vulnerability. In both dhauti and endoscopy, the deepest part of the body—where the manipura chakra resides—is entered, stirred, and exposed. In the silence that follows, something becomes undeniable. The doer is missing. The ownership feels fake. There’s just sensation and witnessing.
I now see how such kriyas, when done with awareness, aren’t only about purification. They are tools to break the boundary between the inside and the outside, to dissolve the illusion of control, and to reawaken a primal intelligence that doesn’t belong to the mind or ego. My endoscopy was clinical, sterile, and completely non-spiritual in intention. But still, it acted like a mirror—a sudden and sharp insight into the powerless ego and the ever-present field of awareness that holds everything, even medical instruments and internal helplessness, without flinching.
This event taught me that not every spiritual push comes in the form of light or bliss. Some come quietly, disguised as helplessness, medical procedures, or discomfort, but if the mind is ready—or even half-cracked open—they do their work. And the journey moves forward, not always dramatically, but inevitably.
Demystifying Kundalini 