Tag: wellness

Meditation, Diet, and Inner Clarity: A Veterinarian’s Journey from Grass to Conscious Eating

The First Question: Can Life Be Sustained on the Simplest Form of Nature?

The inquiry began with a very fundamental and almost ascetic curiosity—whether a human being could survive entirely on grass, especially soft, succulent green grass with the least fiber, and even whether cooking it could make it suitable for human consumption. This was not merely a nutritional question but a deeper exploration into minimal living, purity of intake, and the possibility of aligning the body with the most basic form of nature. However, it soon became clear that regardless of tenderness or cooking, grass remains primarily composed of cellulose, which the human digestive system cannot process. Unlike ruminants, humans lack the necessary enzymes and microbial systems to break down cellulose into usable energy. Cooking may soften grass, but it does not transform its fundamental nature into digestible nutrition.

From Grass to Vegetables: Understanding What the Body Accepts

This led naturally to the question: if grass is also a plant, then how do vegetables nourish us? The answer revealed a fundamental distinction. Not all plants are equal in their nutritional design. Grass is structural, meant for survival and resilience, whereas vegetables are specific plant parts—leaves, roots, and flowers—that are softer, water-rich, and contain accessible nutrients. Over time, humans have also cultivated vegetables to enhance digestibility and nutritional value. Thus, while both grass and vegetables belong to the plant kingdom, their usability for human nutrition differs profoundly.

Grains and Seeds: Nature’s Stored Energy for Life

The exploration then moved toward grains, which are also plant-derived. The key realization here was that grains are seeds, designed by nature to store energy for the growth of a new plant. Unlike grass, grains are rich in starch, which the human body can easily convert into glucose. Cooking further enhances this process by breaking down the structure of the grain, making nutrients readily accessible. Thus, grains serve as a primary energy source for humans, unlike grass, which remains indigestible.

Legumes, Cooking, and the Hidden Barriers to Nutrition

The discussion deepened into legumes such as dal, chana, and rajma. These too are seeds but contain protective compounds like phytates, lectins, and enzyme inhibitors. These anti-nutrients make raw legumes difficult and sometimes harmful to consume. Cooking becomes essential, as it breaks down these compounds and unlocks the protein and nutrients within. This introduced the important concept that nature often protects its nutritional reserves, and human intervention through cooking is necessary to make them usable.

Soaking and Sprouting: Awakening the Seed

Further insight emerged through the processes of soaking and sprouting. Soaking activates enzymes within the seed, reduces anti-nutrients, and prepares it for digestion. Sprouting takes this transformation further, breaking down complex nutrients into simpler forms and increasing vitamin content. This stage represents a transition from dormant seed to living plant, making the food lighter and more bioavailable.

Vegetarian Diet: Possibility and Limitations

The conversation then shifted toward whether a person can live entirely on vegetables, especially in cooked or uncooked forms. It became evident that while a plant-based diet can sustain life, it must be properly structured. Merely consuming leafy vegetables is insufficient. A complete vegetarian diet requires a balance of grains for energy, legumes for protein, vegetables for micronutrients, and some fats for overall function. Without this balance, deficiencies and weakness can arise.

The Question of B12 and the Nature of Vegetarianism

A deeper philosophical question emerged regarding vitamin B12. Since B12 is not naturally present in plant foods, does dependence on it imply that humans are not truly vegetarian? The understanding clarified that B12 is produced by bacteria, not plants or animals. Historically, humans likely obtained B12 from soil, water, and less sanitized food sources. Modern hygiene has removed these natural pathways, making supplementation necessary. This does not negate vegetarianism but highlights a shift in environmental conditions.

The Veterinarian’s Inner Conflict: Profession and Personal Choice

As a veterinarian, the presence of animal farming systems raises an internal question. If animals are being raised for consumption, why not participate personally? This is not merely a dietary question but a matter of alignment. The clarity that emerged was that working within a system and making a personal ethical choice are not contradictory. A veterinarian’s role is to care for and reduce the suffering of animals, while choosing vegetarianism is a personal stance of non-participation in consumption. These two roles can coexist harmoniously.

Occasional Non-Veg: Experience of Energy and Satisfaction

The discussion then returned to lived experience. Occasional non-vegetarian food, even in small weekly amounts, seems to provide a unique sense of energy, satisfaction, and completeness. This experience was acknowledged as real. The explanation lies in the dense nutritional profile of animal foods—complete proteins, B12, iron, and certain compounds that are easily absorbed. If a vegetarian diet is slightly lacking, non-veg can act as a quick correction, producing a noticeable boost.

Meditation and Diet: The Shift from Activity to Stillness

The most refined insight arose in relation to meditation. Non-veg food, while energizing, introduces a certain heaviness that can reduce clarity in advanced meditative states. It may support dynamic or active phases of practice but becomes less suitable as one moves toward deeper stillness. Lighter, vegetarian food supports subtle awareness and sustained attention. This is not a moral judgment but a functional observation based on experience.

Toward a Balanced Understanding

The journey leads to a simple yet profound conclusion. There is no absolute dietary rule that applies universally. Instead, diet evolves with one’s stage of life and inner practice. Non-veg may serve a purpose in earlier stages, while a well-balanced vegetarian diet becomes more aligned with advanced meditative states. Supplementation, particularly for B12, ensures that nutritional completeness is maintained.

Ultimately, the path is not about rigid categories but about awareness. The body provides feedback, and the mind interprets it. When both are understood clearly, diet becomes not a source of conflict but a tool for alignment with one’s deeper pursuit of clarity and stillness.

Yoga Grows in Action, Not Escape: A Personal Realization That Changed My Understanding of Spiritual Practice

The Misconception That Yoga Needs a Workless Life

There is a very common belief that yoga requires a silent, withdrawn, workless life to truly succeed. Many people assume that unless one steps away from worldly responsibilities, real yogic progress is not possible. This idea sounds convincing on the surface, especially when we hear about sages meditating in isolation, but my own direct experience has shown something completely different. I have come to see that yoga does not grow in the absence of life, but rather in the midst of it. In fact, some of my deepest inner shifts and breakthroughs have occurred not when I was resting, but when I was fully engaged in intense work, growth, and activity.

Yoga and the Role of a Hardworking Life

My observation has been simple yet powerful: yoga seems to grow more strongly when life is active, demanding, and full. A hardworking phase does not obstruct yoga; instead, it appears to nourish it. This goes against the usual narrative, but it aligns with what I have lived through. During periods of intense work, the mind naturally becomes more focused. There is less unnecessary thinking and more direct engagement with the present moment. This creates a kind of natural concentration that resembles meditative absorption without deliberate effort. It is as if life itself starts doing the work of yoga.

At the same time, effort and pressure bring hidden patterns to the surface. When one is dealing with real situations, responsibilities, and challenges, the mind cannot hide behind artificial calmness. It reveals itself more honestly. This exposure becomes a powerful opportunity for inner clarity. Without such friction, many tendencies remain dormant and unnoticed.

Understanding Stillness and Movement in Yoga

A deep question arose during this exploration: how can something already still be made still? If stillness is the goal, then what exactly are we trying to still? The answer became clearer with reflection. It is not awareness that needs to be stilled, because awareness is already still. What moves is the mind. Thoughts, reactions, and mental patterns are constantly in motion. Yoga is not about forcing stillness onto something that is already still; it is about recognizing the difference between what moves and what does not.

When this is understood, the idea of “stilling the mind” changes meaning. It is no longer about suppression or control. It becomes a process of seeing the movement so clearly that one stops being carried away by it. The stillness is not created; it is revealed.

One who tries to still the mind cannot truly do so, because the mind continues to remain in the background in a latent or impression form. If one is identified with the mind, then even after stilling it, one remains identified with it and does not experience the freedom of awareness. Therefore, breaking identification with the mind is the only way to transcend it.
Once identification is lost, the mind moves within awareness like clouds in the sky. When the mind becomes still—or dissolves, as its very nature is movement—awareness rests in itself, no longer attached to the imprints of the mind. However, if awareness is already attached to the mind, then even when the mind becomes latent, self-awareness remains subtly bound to it and does not experience its omnipresent and blissful nature.
This is why forceful dhyana and samadhi, practiced through yoga while still living an attached lifestyle, often produce an unsatisfying feeling. Experienced yogis, therefore, enter dhyana slowly and naturally, allowing it to deepen into a breathless state while simply witnessing thoughts with natural, spontaneous breathing. In this way, meditation slips on its own into real and blissful dhyana, because the practitioner first detaches from thoughts and thus remains free even from their latent forms.

Patanjali defines yoga as the stilling of the mind. Therefore, it may be argued that a moving mind is a prerequisite for yoga, just as motion is a prerequisite for stillness. In other words, Patanjali’s definition shows that yoga concerns the stilling of mental movement. Movement does not create stillness, but it makes the process of stilling meaningful and observable.

The Real Meaning of Yogic Progress

Another realization emerged: yoga does not depend on whether one is busy or free. It depends on the quality of awareness present in any situation. A fully engaged life can accelerate growth if awareness is present. However, activity alone does not guarantee anything. Without awareness, busyness can simply create more distraction and deeper identification with mental patterns.

Similarly, reducing activity does not automatically lead to stillness. In many cases, less work leads to dullness, inertia, or subtle restlessness. The mind may appear calm on the surface, but internally it continues its movements. This is not true stillness but merely a lack of external stimulation.

Breakthroughs During Peak Activity

Looking back, I noticed a clear pattern. My major breakthroughs in yoga did not occur during passive or quiet phases. They happened during times when I was deeply involved in work, growing, and pushing my limits. During these periods, attention became naturally one-pointed. There was less room for unnecessary thinking. Energy was active and flowing. The ego had less space to dominate because the focus was on doing rather than on self-image.

There was also an interesting effect of exhaustion. After intense effort, a certain openness appeared. The usual resistance of the mind weakened. In that state, even a small practice, like a few rounds of spinal breathing, became deeply effective.

A Direct Experience with Breath and Energy

One such experience stood out clearly. After becoming mentally tired from updating my old writings to newer standards, I paused and practiced a few spinal breaths. The effect was immediate and surprising. It brought satisfaction, released body stress, and created a sense of fulfillment that was far deeper than what I usually experience in a rested state.

In contrast, when I practice breathing techniques like anulom vilom or kapalbhati in a workless condition, they do not feel as energizing or blissful. But in that moment of exhaustion, the same practices felt alive. There was even a sensation that resembled a rise of pleasure from the base of the spine, something that could easily be interpreted as sexual bliss.

However, on closer observation, it became clear that this was not ordinary sexual energy. It was a movement of life energy, a natural upward flow that the body interpreted in familiar terms. The key difference was that it did not lead outward into desire but inward into fulfillment.

Why Breath Works Better After Effort

This experience revealed an important mechanism. After intense work, the system becomes open. Resistance reduces, and the mind is less cluttered. When breath is introduced at that point, it penetrates deeper. Energy flows more freely, and the effects become more noticeable.

This does not mean that one should depend on exhaustion for progress, but it shows how effort can prepare the ground. Work creates the conditions, and practice directs the outcome.

The Balance Between Work and Awareness

A crucial understanding developed from all this: it is not work that creates yoga, but the state of consciousness during work. A busy life can either support or hinder growth depending on how one engages with it. If work is done with awareness, it becomes a powerful tool. If it is done mechanically or compulsively, it becomes another layer of distraction.

The same applies to rest. A quiet life can either deepen awareness or lead to stagnation. Neither activity nor inactivity guarantees progress.

Refining the Insight

The initial conclusion that yoga succeeds after a fully engaged life needed refinement. It is not that engagement alone leads to success. It is that engagement, when combined with awareness, creates powerful conditions for transformation. The real factor is not the outer situation but the inner relationship to it.

Final Clarity on Work and Yogic Growth

The most accurate understanding that emerged is this: less work does not always lead to yogic growth, and more work does not block it. What matters is whether awareness is present and whether identification with mental movement is reducing.

Yoga is not about escaping life or intensifying it blindly. It is about remaining steady within both. A truly mature state is one where the same clarity remains whether one is active or at rest.

Closing Reflection

What began as a simple observation has turned into a deep shift in understanding. Yoga is not confined to quiet spaces or special conditions. It is not dependent on withdrawal from life. Instead, it unfolds through the way one lives, works, observes, and breathes.

The real journey is not about choosing between action and stillness. It is about discovering a stillness that remains untouched by action, and an action that does not disturb stillness. When this balance begins to emerge, yoga is no longer a separate practice. It becomes the very nature of living.

Riding Over Sleep

The very next day, my sleep broke at 2:30 a.m. I left the bed and sat on the ground in asana. The breath was agitated but not as rocket-like as the previous day. After trying for an hour, I did yogasana for the next half hour, followed by spinal breathing. Then I again tried dhyana for an hour — no success, though the witnessing of buried thoughts continued with a sense of bliss. But how can the mind be satisfied with that once it has tasted the deep breathless dhyana?

Afterwards, I ate a bowl of khichari, a ripe apple, and some herbal tea. However, the herbal tea, being strong, caused a little acidity, so I decided not to use it in a strong ratio in the future. Then I sat again for half an hour, but there was not much improvement. The morning light has grown outside. After that, I did chakra meditation on each chakra. A blissful yogic pressure arose, and I felt dhyana ripening. There was some throat obstruction, so I did jala neti. At various moments during the entire sitting since beginning, pranic energy was rushing upward.

Then deep dhyana launched — the breath became very shallow, and there was a partial entry into pure awareness. For a moment or two, the breath stopped completely, with total merging into pure awareness, but it was too transient. Suddenly, the face of a man seemingly practicing distorted tantra appeared with a strange, cursing expression—though silent, it felt as if he were speaking ill behind my back. This vision dislodged me from that dhyana despite my attempt to remain unaffected.

A new understanding emerged — Dictatorial control, even if positive in intent, should not be held in mind toward such selfstyle people. The amazing thing is that it becomes little bit difficult to reopen the pranic channels and flow energy inside them even after just a few days of yogic inactivity or worldly involvement, or both. Moreover, sexual energy had also been drained away to clean and freshly refill the reservoir. This, too, had slightly slowed the upward movement of energy. Truly, successful yoga depends on many positive contributing factors, not just one. Each factor adds gradually, culminating in a unified whole. Like bricks coming together to build a sturdy home, all these elements combine to create the full structure of yoga practice. Let us now pick up the formal yoga blog next.

Riding Over Sleep

There’s something I keep noticing — sleep and yoga feel almost the same sometimes. When I sit quietly, some people around me say I’m not meditating, just sitting and pretending while actually dozing off. They don’t know how thin that line really is.

In a jagrata, during an all-night bhajan or kirtan for Mata or Shiva, something similar happens. You ride on the wave of sleep instead of letting it swallow you. The body is tired, but you don’t collapse. You stay alert through music, rhythm, and devotion. Slowly the boundary between waking and sleep melts. If you manage to stay aware at that edge, you touch a state that feels like Nirvikalpa — awareness without thought, just stillness watching itself. However if one is highly tired, he may sleep too while sitting in meditation pose. Moreover, it is better to meditate at a sufficient distance from such kirtans; otherwise, the loudspeaker’s sound can be disturbing. However, it should still be faintly audible so that its sattvic vibrations can have an uplifting and purifying influence.

Spiritually it makes sense. The repetition of divine names and surrender quiets the usual noise of the mind. Consciousness stays bright though the body is dull. You hover right between wake and sleep — the thin doorway the scriptures call Turiya, the state behind waking, dream, and deep sleep.

Even physiologically it fits. Chanting soothes the nerves, slows the breath, and keeps you relaxed but awake. Sleep pressure builds, yet rhythm and emotion don’t let you slip into full sleep. The brain rests while awareness stands guard — a soft, glowing balance that scientists call a hypnagogic state, and yogis call bliss.

So yes, jagrata can really open that doorway if the inner condition is right. Not everyone reaches Nirvikalpa through it, but the path runs that way.

The Mandukya Upanishad describes this beautifully. It speaks of four states — waking (jagrat), dream (svapna), deep sleep (sushupti), and the fourth one, Turiya. The first three come and go, but Turiya stays untouched. When you are at that sleepy edge during bhajan yet remain aware, you are already brushing Turiya.

Yoga Vasistha echoes the same truth. Sage Vasistha tells Rama that a wise person “sleeps even while awake and is awake even while asleep.” It means a yogi’s awareness doesn’t blink, no matter what the body does. What ordinary people call rest becomes conscious rest for the yogi. The body may be half asleep, yet awareness shines quietly. This is Yoga Nidra or Jagrat Sushupti — wakeful deep sleep, the art of riding over sleep instead of sinking into it.

Now, look at it through the Kundalini–Tantra eye. The state between waking and sleep — jagrat sushupti sandhi — is where prana turns inward. Usually energy flows outward through senses. In sleep it withdraws, but awareness also fades. If, by mantra or kirtan or still meditation, awareness stays awake while energy turns inward, you catch the serpent of sleep consciously — that’s Kundalini entering Sushumna, the central channel. This edge is the real turiya-dwara, the doorway to the fourth state.

During long chanting or meditation, breath evens out, emotions settle, Ida and Pingala — the left and right flows — come into balance, and Sushumna opens. Energy that once fed thoughts now rises upward. When awareness is pure and surrendered, it merges into silent consciousness — Nirvikalpa-like stillness. When awareness wavers, it still brings a wave of bliss or devotion, though not full samadhi.

Tantra says nothing is to be rejected, not even sleep. “Whatever binds you can liberate you, when seen rightly.” Even sleepiness can help if you meet it consciously. At that edge, Muladhara energy melts upward, the Ajna and Sahasrara light up. A tired body with wakeful awareness is fertile ground for spontaneous samadhi. That’s why many saints reached awakening through music, love, and surrender rather than severe austerity — their prana rose gently, effortlessly.

If you learn to watch yourself at the point where waking becomes sleep and stay aware with devotion or mantra, that small passage turns royal — it takes you straight toward Turiya. Nothing to force, nothing to do, just don’t fall unconscious.

The same energy that pulls you into sleep can, when met with awareness, lift you into samadhi.

It all began from a simple feeling that yoga and sleep seem alike. Yet behind that simple resemblance hides a deep secret — both touch the same doorway. In jagrata or devotional wakefulness, sleep stops being an enemy. It becomes a wave to ride — one that can carry you beyond waking and dream into that luminous stillness where only awareness itself remains.

Morning Dhyana: My Journey Through Nirvikalpa and Heart-Space Purification

Recently, I noticed a new development in my morning sadhana. Immediately after rising from bed, I concentrated on the Ajna and Sahasrara chakras, with subtle awareness of breathing seemingly rising from there. My mind waves began dissolving into a vast background space, leaving a sense of stillness. It felt effortless, as if the nirvikalpa-type dhyana was happening naturally without any prior yoga or preparatory practices.

After about an hour, my awareness shifted downward to the heart area. There, I felt a heavy darkness, which I realized was the emotional weight stored over time. Slowly, emotions and thoughts associated with those impressions emerged into my awareness, making the space lighter. It felt like an inner cleansing, a natural process of emotional and karmic purification.

From a Kundalini perspective, this process shows a beautiful rhythm: first, energy rises to higher centers, giving freedom from thought and and bringing waveless awareness. Then, it naturally descends to integrate higher consciousness into the emotional body. The darkness I felt in the heart was dense energy, now being slowly dissolved. This combination of upward transcendence and downward integration is rare, as many practitioners rise without cleansing the lower centers.

From a psychological perspective, the heaviness in the heart reflected unconscious or repressed emotions. By observing them in awareness, they surfaced without resistance and gradually lightened. This is a natural catharsis — the mind sees what was hidden, allowing tension and stored impressions to dissolve.

This experience made me question whether my usual physical asanas, cleansing techniques, and pranayamas were necessary before morning dhyana. I realized that if nirvikalpa absorption arises naturally, intense or long practices could drain the subtle energy needed for it. Gentle, minimal preparation, however, can support the body and subtle channels without interfering with the natural flow.

My guru had suggested a few practices: Jal Neti, Vastra Dhouti, Vaman, sneezing, Kapalbhati, Anulom Vilom, Sarvottan Asan without stretching, Greeva Chalan, Skandh Chalan, Nabhi Chalan (10 forward + 10 backward), and Sarp Asana. Upon reviewing them, I found them light enough if performed gently, slowly, and briefly. Vaman should only be done when advised or needed for it may be heavy in gerd; Kapalbhati should be mild; movements should be smooth and relaxed.

I created a light, energy-preserving morning prep routine to complement my dhyana: start with 3–5 minutes of gentle cleansing (Jal Neti, Sneezing, Vastra Dhouti), then 4–6 minutes of light movements (neck, shoulder, and core), followed by 3–5 minutes of gentle pranayama (Anulom Vilom and mild Kapalbhati), a short Sarvottan Asan without stretching, and finally 2 minutes of settling into stillness. After this, I enter nirvikalpa-type dhyana, focusing first on Ajna and Sahasrara for 15–20 minutes, followed by heart-space descent for 5–10 minutes to observe and release emotional heaviness. I end with integration and gentle awareness for 2–3 minutes.

The guiding principle is simple: let the dhyana arise naturally and effortlessly. Pre-dhyana practices exist only to prepare the body and subtle channels, not to produce forceful energy. Overdoing movements, pranayama, or cleansing can drain the subtle prana that fuels morning absorption. Consistency and gentleness are more valuable than intensity.

However, this is not always true. Most often, my rigorous energy work with strong āsanas, spinal breathing, and chakra meditation creates such potential in the brain that, after deep nirvikalpa dhyāna within five to ten minutes, I feel the āsanas themselves become perfected. When the same āsanas are practiced for many years, they seem to make the nāḍīs flow better, whereas new or even complicated āsanas do not have the same effect. Of course, these are simple ones like leg lifts, shoulder turns, and similar stretches. Probably, the nāḍīs develop in better alignment with the direction of those habitual āsanas with time. Interestingly, the guru-given effective āsanas did not work as well for me as my own simple stretching poses, which I had been doing for decades. No doubt, the guru’s prescribed āsanas will also become perfected with time, perhaps in an even better way. Thus, time and habit seem to be the main factors. When I am sufficiently tired, simple dhyāna starts by itself; when I am fresh and energetic, energy work leads to better dhyāna with greater awareness.

Through this approach, I am learning to harmonize high consciousness in the brain and subtle emotional purification in the heart. Simple Thokar practice also helps heart a lot. The upward flow gives bliss and waveless awareness, while the downward flow clears the unconscious, leaving a light, integrated, and balanced inner state. Observing my own responses allows me to adjust pre-dhyana practices, ensuring that maximum absorption and minimal energy drain occur every morning.

This journey teaches me that advanced sadhana is not about more effort but about precise awareness, gentle preparation, and letting the natural currents of energy and mind guide the practice. By honoring this rhythm, the heart opens, the mind rests, and the subtle energy supports a consistent and deepening nirvikalpa experience. However, all of this is relative. The definition of effort, energy, and practice may vary from person to person. So the approach is simple: try, observe, and practice — the “TOP” formula.

My Experience with Dhauti, GERD, and Food Sensitivity

The other day when I practiced vastra dhauti, I noticed something very interesting. As I started to draw out the cloth, it felt like it was being gripped from inside. When I kept a constant, light pull, it didn’t slide out smoothly. Instead, it came out in small pulses, as if something inside was releasing it little by little.

The Haṭha Yoga Pradīpikā (2.24) and Gheraṇḍa Saṁhitā (1.16–18) describe Vastra Dhauti as a practice where a moist, clean strip of cloth is swallowed and later withdrawn, purifying the stomach. The texts say the stomach “grasps and pulls it in”, which should not be taken literally; rather, once throat resistance is overcome, the natural peristaltic movement of the esophagus and stomach muscles carries the cloth inward, giving the yogi the feeling that the stomach itself is drawing it inside. It purifies the stomach, removes excess bile and phlegm, and prepares the yogi for subtler practices.

That made me wonder: was the cloth stuck in my stomach? Or was some sphincter muscle holding it?

After thinking over it, I realized the esophagus has two main sphincters. One is the cardiac (lower esophageal) sphincter, which sits just above the stomach, and the other is the pyloric sphincter, which sits at the stomach’s exit into the intestine. The pulsative grip I felt was most likely from the cardiac sphincter. This sphincter naturally prevents food or foreign objects from falling freely into the stomach, so the entire cloth cannot simply slip down and get trapped.

That discovery was a relief. It meant that if one end of the vastra is held in the hand, even a beginner should be able to withdraw it safely, though slowly and with patience. The pulsating contractions and the irritation from the cloth itself help in gradually pushing it upward.

Then another thought struck me: if my cardiac sphincter can grip the vastra this strongly, does it mean my sphincter is not weak? I’ve been dealing with GERD (acid reflux), and one common explanation is that the lower esophageal sphincter gets weak. But maybe in my case, that isn’t the whole story. Perhaps there are other reasons for my reflux.

This is where the question of food sensitivity came up. I wondered if gluten sensitivity might be a hidden factor, mainly in ankylosing spondyloarthritis like me. Gluten can irritate the gut lining in some people and worsen reflux or bloating, even when the sphincter itself is working fine.

But then I noticed something else: even when I ate jwar (sorghum) roti, which is gluten-free, it felt hard to digest. Although I found relief with it when well cooked, thin and in small to moderate quantity. This made me realize that digestion is not just about gluten. Foods like jwar, bajra, and chana are heavy, high in fiber, and too much can sit in the stomach longer, which can sometimes worsens reflux.

I considered mixing grains: jwar + bajra + chana multigrain roti. This could balance heaviness with variety, but it may still feel dense if digestion is already weak. On the other hand, lighter options like oats + kutki (little millet) seem easier on the system.

Yet, I have a deep habit of eating roti every day. It’s cultural, emotional, and satisfying. So the challenge is not to quit roti, but to find the grain combination that gives me both digestibility and comfort.

From this whole journey, my learnings are:

  • The body has natural safety mechanisms (like the sphincter grip in dhauti).
  • GERD is not always about a weak sphincter; food type and sensitivity matter a lot.
  • Heavy gluten-free grains can also be tough, so light mixes may be better.
  • Habits like roti can be kept, but with smart substitutions.

In the end, the practice of dhauti not only helped me cleanse but also gave me a direct insight into how my sphincter works. That, combined with my experiments with roti and grains, is slowly teaching me the personal balance I need for both yoga practice and digestive health.

I got help in meditative Dhyana, relief from GERD, and an improvement in personality through it. I felt I had come to know enough of the interior of my body. Dhouti Vastra was like a narrow clinical gauze bandage, about 1.5 feet in length. The throat resists it and propels it out with coughing; it only enters the stomach if enough normal saline water is drunk along with it. The outer end should never be swallowed, otherwise it may be lost inside and surgery could be required to remove it. Therefore, this is a serious practice and should be done cautiously, under the guidance of an expert.

Chapter 9 – Healing from the Inside Out

Human life is not just a chain of days and events. It is a flow of patterns, shaped by awareness, taking form as the body and mind we live in. In the last chapter, we saw how consciousness links experiences together and turns possibilities into reality. Now, we look deeper—into the body’s power to heal itself from the inside out.

Most of us are taught to think of illness as something that “attacks” us from outside—a virus, a germ, an injury. But seen more deeply, illness is often a disturbance in the body’s natural balance. It is like a musical note going slightly out of tune. The instrument is still there; it just needs the right vibration to return to harmony.

The human body is not just flesh and bone. On a finer level, it is a field of information. Every cell and atom follows a kind of invisible blueprint. That invisible blueprint can be understood as the subconscious mind, because the subconscious stores the deep patterns, memories, and beliefs that quietly shape how the body functions, heals, and responds to life—often without our conscious awareness—acting like the hidden master plan the body follows. When this blueprint is clear, the body is healthy. When it is disturbed—by stress, shock, or unprocessed emotions—the body’s image of health becomes blurred. Real healing happens when that inner pattern is restored. Then, the body’s physical parts follow naturally. The inner pattern or blueprint means the subconscious mind’s pattern becomes clearer through meditation and spiritual practices like dana (charity), tapa (discipline), and vrata (sacred vows), which purify hidden impressions and restore the mind-body field to its natural harmony, allowing the body to heal more easily.

Modern medicine sees disease as a chemical imbalance or physical damage. That is true, but these are often the surface effects of a deeper cause—the disturbance in the body’s energy or information field. I refer to the subconscious mind as the body’s energy or information field because it silently stores and transmits the mental-emotional patterns as information and energy that influence the body’s chemistry, cell behavior, and overall balance—acting like an invisible control network that links mind, energy, and physical form. Quantum physics tells us that many possible states exist at once. In the body, this means every cell can “choose” between states of health or illness. The choice depends on the signals it receives from the surrounding field.

From this point of view, the work of a healer is not only to fight the disease, but also to guide the body back into its natural rhythm. A certain threshold of subconscious clarity is needed for the body’s natural rhythm to hold; when clarity drops below that point, distortions build up in the mind-body field, and disease begins to appear. This is why some therapies—sound, light, gentle touch, meditation—can help. They are not magic; they are ways of sending the “right song” back into the body so it remembers how to be well.

Even the so-called placebo effect is proof of this. When someone truly believes they will heal, the belief itself changes the body’s energy blueprint. “Blueprint” is just a metaphor to make the idea visual, but it directly means the body’s energy field or subconscious pattern that belief can influence and change. It is not the pill but the mind’s certainty that triggers the body to repair itself. Far from being “just imagination,” it is one of the clearest examples of the mind’s healing power.

Deep spiritual states also create a powerful healing field. For example, Nirvikalpa Samadhi is often misunderstood as withdrawing from life and sitting in emptiness. But it is really about living and acting with the understanding that the doer, the action, and the result are one. When the sense of doer, action, and result being one is realized, stress and inner conflict drop sharply, which prevents new subconscious disturbances from forming—helping the body stay in its natural state of health. Simply saying, nirvikalp samadhi clears the subconscious mind. A person in this state naturally radiates balance and calm. Just being around them can help others’ patterns return to harmony.

In yoga, practices like Yam and Niyam are not strict rules but ways to keep the body’s field clear and steady. They prevent disturbances before they appear. A karmayogi—someone who works in the world with selfless awareness—may look fully engaged in life, but inside they are in deep alignment, already healing themselves and influencing others.

Healing and self-realization meet in the quiet space between thoughts. When we pause and rest in awareness, the mind’s noise settles, and distortions fade. This is not emptiness in the dull sense, but a full and alive silence where the body remembers its original state of balance. It means that in moments of pure awareness—when thoughts pause like in keval kumbhak—the mind becomes still, the subconscious clears, and the body naturally returns to its healthy, balanced state; this silence feels vibrant and alive, not blank or lifeless.

The brain adds another mystery. Neurons send electrical signals in two-dimensional patterns, yet we experience a rich, three-dimensional world. This shows that depth and reality are not purely in the brain’s matter, but in how consciousness shapes information. In a hologram, if the source plate is clear, the image is clear. Healing works the same way—clarify the blueprint, and the whole picture changes. It means that just as a hologram’s image depends entirely on the clarity of its original recording plate, the body’s health depends on the clarity of its inner pattern or subconscious; when that inner “source” is clear, the outer physical condition naturally improves.

Life also gives us natural phases of alignment. In youth, energy flows strongly, and engaging fully with life strengthens harmony. Later, as the body slows, deeper stillness and states like Nirvikalpa come more easily, keeping the field aligned with less outward action. It means we have a better opportunity in youth to experience energy-awakening–based Savikalpa Samadhi, while in later life, silent Savikalpa Samadhi and even Nirvikalpa Samadhi can naturally arise as a result of the earlier energetic awakening.

In physics, the wavefunction holds all possible realities. What becomes real is chosen by the conditions at the moment. Healing is about tuning the conditions so the healthiest possibility becomes the natural choice. It means that, just as physics says all outcomes exist until conditions decide which one appears, the body also holds many possible health states, and by creating the right mental, emotional, and physical conditions, the body naturally “chooses” the healthiest state to manifest.

To heal from the inside out is to remember that the body is not a machine needing only external repair, but a living hologram in constant contact with infinite intelligence. At any moment, the song of the field can change—and when it does, the atoms follow. Whether through belief, sound, selfless work, or deep silence, we can invite the body back into its natural rhythm.

True healing is not about escaping the world or clinging to it. It is about walking through life as both healer and healed, knowing that the blueprint of wholeness is always present. Every mindful step strengthens the song of health. Every breath taken in awareness is a gentle return to balance. In this way, healing becomes not a struggle, but a natural expression of living in tune with who we really are—a spark of consciousness, shaping itself into the form of a healthy, living human being.

Living Samadhi in All Seasons of the Day

I have come to realize that Samadhi is not something to be locked inside a meditation room or reserved only for those rare moments when the world is quiet. For me, it has become a rhythm — like breathing in and out — flowing through the morning, afternoon, evening, and even into the busiest parts of the day. It’s not just about the cushion; it’s about carrying that awareness like a fragrance that lingers wherever I go.

My mornings begin with yoga, the body stretching and opening like the petals of a flower at dawn. The energy starts to hum in the spine, and before it dissipates, I let it settle in meditation for a full hour. This is not a forced concentration, but more like stepping into a quiet lake and letting the ripples fade on their own. The body is still, the mind settles, and the space between thoughts becomes more vivid than the thoughts themselves. I can feel the energy in the Ajna Chakra — steady, blissful — and this alone is enough to keep the mind detached from the usual noise of the day. Morning energy work creates a potential that lasts throughout the day, making it easier to enter deep dhyana during later meditation sittings, and sometimes even bringing brief, samadhi-like naps at intervals throughout the day.

Afternoons are different. Just after lunch, I sit in Vajrasana for about 30 minutes. This is a calmer, grounding period — digestion for both the body and the soul. Vajrasana itself is steadying, and I find that meditating right after a meal in this posture helps the body stay relaxed while the mind quietly tunes itself. It’s not as intense as morning practice, but it carries a deep, homely stillness, almost like a midday nap for the inner being — except you stay fully awake. I feel the downward spinal breath is more prominent during eating dhyana due to the downward movement of life force aiding digestion. However in early morning when belly is empty, the upward movement of breath seems more prominent.

Evenings are my favorite. About three hours after dinner, just before sleep, I give myself another hour. Here, there is no need to prepare the mind — the day has already done its work of tiring the body and mind. I simply sit, and the awareness slips into its place like a familiar old friend returning home. Often, this is the deepest session of the day because the body has nothing left to demand, and the mind knows there’s no more work to be done. The transition into sleep from this state feels like slipping from the banks of a quiet river into the open sea. When you fall asleep directly, the mind may stay restless, leading to light sleep and vivid dreams, which prevents full mental rest. But if you first slip into dhyana and then let sleep come naturally, the mind is already calm and inwardly settled. This allows sleep to be deeper, more blissful, refreshing, and satisfying.

But it doesn’t end with these sitting periods. My way of Karma Yoga — through Sharirvigyan Darshan — has become the thread that keeps it all stitched together. While working, I remain aware of the body as if it were an atom: the brain as the nucleus, the electrons as shifting personalities, thoughts as orbiting patterns that I don’t need to catch or control. The body works, the mind thinks, but I stand a little apart, like the witness. In this way, the practice is not interrupted by activity; it is activity that becomes part of the practice.

There is a sweetness in this rhythm. Morning freshness, afternoon grounding, evening melting into stillness — and in between, the flowing stream of Karma Yoga. Each session is like cleaning a window so that the view stays clear. Over time, I have learned that Samadhi is not only found in long stretches of sitting but also in these shorter, daily touchpoints that keep the awareness polished and alive. When combined, they become a continuous current, humming quietly beneath the surface of everything I do.

It is important to understand that while dhyana or samadhi itself is not dependent on the mind, the mind is still required to prepare the ground for it. In the early stages, mental focus and clarity are essential to enter the state. This is why being fresh, alert, and well-rested allows dhyana to establish more quickly and with greater depth. Once true samadhi is reached, it becomes self-sustaining — the mind in that state neither tires nor drifts into drowsiness or sleep over time. By contrast, if one attempts meditation in a dull or drowsy condition, the practice is likely to slide into yoganidra or ordinary sleep rather than samadhi.

Public demonstrations such as being buried underground for days cannot be equated with samadhi. These feats are often the result of advanced pranayama skills such as keval kumbhak (effortless breath retention) or other survival-oriented techniques. While impressive, they do not necessarily reflect inner absorption, and the ego investment in performing such displays can become a subtle obstacle to genuine spiritual advancement. True samadhi, as described in the yogic tradition, is free of exhibition and rooted in inner stillness.

Calm Your Mind with Water: A Simple Meditation Technique

Sometimes, ancient wisdom meets inner intuition, and something powerful yet simple emerges. That’s exactly what I experienced with a small but deeply calming practice I stumbled upon—holding a sip of water in the mouth while meditating. Over time, I noticed that this little act had a profound ability to pull my rising energy down, especially during moments when I felt heavy pressure in the head, stuck in thoughts, or uncomfortable upper body energy that wouldn’t settle.

The idea is extremely simple. Sit calmly with a glass of clean, room-temperature water beside you. Take a small sip—not a mouthful, just enough to comfortably rest in your mouth. Then, gently close your eyes and simply meditate on the presence of water inside your mouth. No breath control, no visualization, no technique—just awareness of the water. Let the breath be fully natural and free.

After a while, you may notice something amazing. Without any force, the body starts responding. Soft, involuntary pulses begin around the lower abdomen. It feels like a gentle version of Kapalbhati Pranayama, but it happens naturally. It’s not a forced kriya, just a downward pull, like the body wants to balance itself. The overcharged head space begins to lighten, the throat relaxes, and you can actually feel energy shifting down toward the navel and below.

One of the best parts is that you don’t have to hold the same sip of water for ten minutes. That would be uncomfortable. Just when the sip feels enough, either swallow or spit it out and take another fresh sip. Keep the cycle going for 5 to 15 minutes, depending on what feels good. It’s totally body-led and effortless. There’s no stress on the mind, no pressure on the stomach, and no disturbance to the breath. The water seems to anchor the mind and body together.

For someone like me, who has experienced occasional GERD or acid-related discomfort, this method came as a relief. Unlike deep breathing techniques or aggressive kriyas, this is safe, cool, and calming. There’s no strain on the diaphragm, no holding of breath, and no reflux triggered. The coolness of the water balances the heat inside, and the grounded awareness pulls prana down from the chest and head. It’s also useful for spiritual practitioners who often experience excess energy in the head after meditation or pranayama. It gently rebalances without any intense effort.

This simple water-holding meditation can be used before sleep, after meals (with a 1–2 hour gap), or anytime when you feel too much mental chatter, pressure in the forehead, or a rising kind of energy that needs settling. But best time is empty stomach immidiately after morning yoga when brain pressure is high, then it lowers excess energy very effectively. It’s safe, soothing, and so intuitive that you might wonder why this hasn’t been talked about more.

A word of caution—use only clean drinking water. Don’t overdo it or hold water too long if you feel uncomfortable. Avoid doing this with a sore throat or if you’re feeling cold. But generally, it’s a harmless, soothing practice that works like a charm when done with quiet awareness.

What began as a random experiment became one of the most grounding techniques in my personal toolkit. It’s not from a book, nor taught in any formal yoga class, but it’s one of the most peaceful meditative hacks I’ve found. Water, attention, and a little bit of stillness — that’s all it takes to reconnect with the body and feel balanced again.

Understanding Ayurvedic Basti: A Gentle Detox Method

Many people hear the word basti and think of it as something complicated or mysterious. Some even think it means sitting in a tub of water and sucking it up through the anus. Others think of it as a type of Ayurvedic enema. The truth is, both ideas are partially correct. But to really understand what basti means, and how it can help you, it’s important to know that there are actually two systems where this word is used — one is Ayurvedic basti and the other is yogic vasti.

In Ayurveda, basti is one of the five main detox methods called Panchakarma. It focuses on cleansing the colon, which Ayurveda considers the home of Vata — the dosha responsible for all kinds of movement in the body and mind. When Vata is out of balance, people can feel anxious, constipated, dry, weak, or restless. Basti helps bring Vata back into balance. There are two types: Niruha basti, which uses a water-based herbal mixture, and Anuvasana basti, which uses warm medicated oil. When done in a small daily dose, the oil-based version is called Matra Basti, and that’s the one most suitable for home use.

Matra Basti is very simple. You warm about 30 to 60 ml of special Ayurvedic oil and insert it into the rectum using a syringe or soft enema bulb. You lie on your left side, bend your right knee, gently insert the nozzle and squeeze. Then you just relax and allow the oil to be absorbed. It doesn’t create an urge to go to the toilet. The oil gets absorbed by the colon and nourishes your nerves, calms your mind, and even improves digestion and sleep. This is a safe, gentle way to maintain health, especially for those who often suffer from constipation, gas, low energy, or stress.

However, it’s important to use clean and safe methods. If the syringe or nozzle is dirty, or if the oil is contaminated or expired, there is a small risk of infection. This is rare, but possible. Infection can also happen if you try basti while having bleeding piles, cuts near the anus, or active infections. To stay safe, always wash your syringe or enema bulb thoroughly with hot water before and after each use. If it’s a reusable one, you can even boil it occasionally. Use oil that is fresh, sealed, and from a reliable brand. Store it in a clean, dry place. Never try basti when you’re running a fever or feeling too weak. And avoid using basti if you have diarrhea or bleeding from the rectum, unless a doctor guides you. Your hands, towel, and the space where you lie down should all be clean. And never share your basti tools with anyone else.

Some people ask if they can use modern disposable enema kits from a medical store for Ayurvedic basti. The answer is yes, you can. Just throw away the chemical solution inside, wash the bottle and nozzle, and fill it with warm Ayurvedic oil. It becomes a perfect tool for doing Matra Basti at home. This is very useful for those who want to avoid full Panchakarma sessions or can’t visit an Ayurvedic clinic often.

Now, here’s where the confusion starts. Some people hear about basti in yoga traditions and think it means sitting in water and sucking it into the anus. That’s actually a different practice called yogic vasti. In this ancient technique, a trained yogi sits in a tub or river and uses abdominal control to suck water into the colon through the rectum. This requires mastery of Nauli, a technique that churns the belly muscles. The water is then expelled after a short time. It’s a deep cleansing kriya and not meant for beginners. It’s rarely practiced today except by highly trained yogis. But since both involve cleansing the colon, the names basti and vasti sometimes get mixed up.

In truth, both Ayurvedic basti and yogic vasti aim to purify the colon and help the body and mind. But their methods are very different. Yogic vasti needs special body control, no tools, and lots of training. Ayurvedic basti uses oils and syringes or enema tools, and is much easier to do regularly at home under some basic guidance. You could say yogic vasti is more like a natural suction method for cleansing, while Ayurvedic basti is more like a healing and nourishing method that also removes toxins.

In fact, it’s surprising that Ayurvedic basti isn’t already sold like allopathic enema kits. There should be a product where you get a bottle of basti oil and a soft reusable syringe in a box. That would make basti simple and accessible for everyone. It would be useful for elders, office workers, women after delivery, people with stress or poor sleep, or anyone feeling dried out and exhausted. Such a product would also save people from relying too much on chemical laxatives or stool softeners.

Some Ayurvedic brands do sell basti oils like Kshirabala or Balashwagandhadi Taila, but you usually have to buy the syringe separately. Still, this is a great way to start. You don’t need to be a yogi or a doctor. Just learn the basics, use clean tools, and follow a gentle approach. The benefits are deeper than just clearing your bowels. People feel grounded, less anxious, and more mentally peaceful after regular Matra Basti.

Another safety point to remember is that basti should not be done immediately after eating. Wait at least two to three hours after a meal. Also, avoid it during your menstrual period or if you’re already weak from illness. Always test the oil’s temperature before use — it should feel warm but not hot. If you ever feel pain, burning, or swelling after basti, stop immediately. And if fever or rectal discomfort appears, consult a doctor. Though such cases are rare, it’s better to be cautious. Basti is very safe when done properly, but as with any healing practice, a little care goes a long way.

To sum it up, basti in Ayurveda and vasti in yoga both have ancient roots and powerful health effects. But for most people today, Matra Basti using warm oil and a syringe is the safest, easiest, and most beneficial version. It can be done at home, especially in the evening, and it supports the nervous system, gut, and mind. If done correctly, it’s deeply healing. Yogic vasti, on the other hand, is more of a rare skill that belongs to advanced spiritual training.

If you’ve ever wondered about basti, or felt confused about the methods, now you know the full picture. With the right oil, a clean syringe, gentle technique, and some care, you can bring this timeless wisdom into your daily life — and experience the calm, clarity, and strength it offers.

Jal Neti vs Sutra Neti: Which is Right for You?

Many people who start yogic cleansing often ask: is Jal Neti enough, or does Sutra Neti have some special benefit? I used to wonder the same. After practicing both and learning from yogic texts and real experiences, here’s what I’ve found, explained in the most down-to-earth way possible.

Jal Neti, the more common method, is done using a Neti pot filled with lukewarm saline water. You tilt your head and pour the water in one nostril, letting it flow out from the other. This cleans out the dust, mucus, and pollution from your nose and sinuses. It’s gentle, easy, and great for everyday use. Especially if you suffer from colds, allergies, or live in a polluted area, Jal Neti can make a big difference. For most people, Jal Neti is fully enough.

Sutra Neti, on the other hand, is more advanced. It involves inserting a thin rubber catheter or medicated thread into one nostril and pulling it out from the mouth. It sounds scary at first, but with proper training, it can deeply clean the nasal passages and sinuses, especially when Jal Neti doesn’t work fully. It’s helpful in chronic sinusitis, nasal blocks, or when you’re into deeper yogic practices. But Sutra Neti is not a daily thing and should only be learned under expert guidance.

So, to put it simply: If you’re doing Neti for regular nasal cleaning or breathing ease, Jal Neti is enough. Sutra Neti is like a specialist tool — only needed when the problem is deeper or if you’re pursuing intense yogic paths.

Tips to Avoid Complications in Both Jal and Sutra Neti

Now, both these practices are powerful, but you must be careful. Here are some simple safety tips that you should never ignore.

For Jal Neti, always use lukewarm sterile water — boiled and cooled. Mix it with non-iodized salt, about half a teaspoon per glass. Lean forward, tilt your head sideways, and let the water flow gently from one nostril to the other. Keep your mouth open and breathe only through your mouth during the process.

The most important step after Neti is drying your nose. If water remains inside, it can lead to infection or a headache. So after Neti, gently blow your nose and do about 30 to 50 rounds of Kapalabhati (fast breathing). It may seem like a small thing, but this step alone saves you from many issues.

For Sutra Neti, never try it on your own the first time. It must be learned from a skilled teacher. The catheter should be smooth and lubricated with edible oil or ghee. Insert slowly, gently pull it through the mouth, and move it back and forth carefully. Don’t do it if you have a nose injury, cold, or recent nasal surgery.

Whether it’s Jal or Sutra Neti, always clean your equipment well and never share it with anyone.

What If You Do Suction Instead of Neti Pot?

Now here’s an interesting thing. Some people (like I did earlier) don’t use a Neti pot but instead suck water from their hand or fist into one nostril and let it flow out from the other or mouth. This method, while practiced by some, is not the safest. It’s often called suction Neti or active Neti.

Though it works for some, it has more risks. It can pull water into your ear tubes (Eustachian tubes), causing ear pain or infections. The suction may irritate your nose lining and cause burning. You must be extremely gentle if using this method. But the safest and most beginner-friendly way is always the gravity-based Neti pot.

What If Ear Infection Happens?

Let’s say you feel pain or pressure in the ear after Neti. Don’t panic — it can happen if water gets into the middle ear due to improper posture or drying.

First, stop Neti practice immediately. Keep your head upright and avoid lying down right away. You can apply a warm compress behind the ear, do gentle jaw movements, or try steam inhalation to relieve pressure. Don’t poke anything into the ear.

If the pain doesn’t go away in a day or two, or if you notice fever or fluid discharge, visit a doctor (preferably an ENT). They might prescribe mild antibiotics, painkillers, or decongestants.

To prevent this in future, always dry your nose properly after Neti and never do it forcefully. Also, avoid it when you have a cold or nasal congestion.

Can I Use Iodized Salt in Jal Neti?

No. Never use iodized table salt in Jal Neti. It can burn, irritate, or inflame your nasal lining. Iodine and anti-caking agents in it are not good for your nose. Instead, use non-iodized rock salt (sendha namak) or pure sea salt. These are natural and gentle.

If you accidentally use iodized salt once or twice, it might just sting a bit. But for regular practice, switch to the correct salt.

Rock Salt vs. Black Salt — Can Both Be Used?

This is another common doubt. Rock salt (sendha namak) is perfect for Jal Neti. It’s clean, unprocessed, and non-iodized. It’s what is traditionally recommended.

Black salt (kala namak) is completely wrong for Neti. It has sulfur, smells like eggs, and can seriously irritate the nose. It’s used in food or for digestion, not nasal cleansing. So always check the label — use only pure rock salt or Neti salt.

So that’s everything you should know — not just about Jal vs. Sutra Neti, but about real-life practice, safety tips, mistakes to avoid, and what to do if something goes wrong.

Jal Neti is a gift from yoga. Done correctly, it clears the mind, purifies the breath, and protects against pollution and sinus troubles. Just practice it with care, patience, and proper knowledge.