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Freedom from Worry Is True “Rajyoga”

Freedom from Worry Is True “Rajyoga” Introduction Human beings desire to conquer the world. By acquiring position, prestige, wealth, and power, they begin to regard themselves as rulers. But if a small apprehension can steal their sleep, an unknown fear of the future can destroy their peace, and an unfavorable circumstance can govern their mind—are they truly sovereign? In my view, true Rajyoga does not mean gaining control over an external kingdom. Rajyoga is the state in which a person is no longer a slave to the mind, but becomes its conscious witness and discerning master. Freedom from worry is true Rajyoga. The moment worry vacates the throne within us, consciousness begins its coronation. What Is Worry? Worry is the mind’s unsuccessful attempt to secure the future according to its own expectations. The mind creates countless negative images of something that has not yet happened—and then becomes frightened by the very images it has created. The event may belong to the future, but...
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When the Sun Rose Within Me

 While watching the sunrise, have you ever felt that the light is awakening within you, too? A moment on my morning walk made me see my connection to time, my body, and the universe in a new way. “I step out every morning to watch the sunrise—to reconnect with that moment of awakening within.” Stepping out every morning to watch the sunrise is my meditation practice. In that quiet moment, the sun rising outside feels as though it is rising within me, too. This piece is a journey through that experience—where distant galaxies and the intimate closeness within the body are felt simultaneously, and a single, tiny tear touches the vastness of the entire universe. When the Sun Rose Within Me I wake up early and step out for a walk, as witnessing sunrise is my meditation practice. When I watch the sunrise in quiet stillness, I truly become a part of this beautiful spectacle. Throughout the experience, I realize that the sun is not rising outside, but within me. I feel— That moment is spe...
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The Rhythm of Life: When Living Becomes an Art

  The Rhythm of Life: When Living Becomes an Art Every Human Being Is a Note in the Music of the Universe Birds do not earn degrees from schools before learning to fly, nor do they take real estate courses before building their nests. Yet they fly, create their homes, raise their young, and live naturally in harmony with the rhythm of nature. Human beings, however—regarded as nature’s finest creation—are deeply familiar with pain and suffering, yet often remain strangers to joy and inner happiness. How is this possible? How did human beings become disconnected from their own existence? How could someone who is a magnificent work of nature lose the art of living? Why do we remain unaware of the extraordinary art already present within us? Has our inner connection with nature been broken? Has some inner fuse blown? Or has that connection simply become covered with the rust of time, fear, stress, and ignorance? The surprising thing is not that we have been unable to repair this inner ...
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Not the Age of Information—but of Direct Experience

  Not the Age of Information—but of Direct Experience When Nature Becomes the Teacher of Today’s Generation When the heat of thirty-two years of life dissolved, joy blossomed within me, and love longed to walk toward people and embrace them; I saw life expand in an entirely new way. I asked myself: What is life? Is life only love? Perhaps not, because it also contains pain. Is life only pain? That cannot be true either, because the search for love within it never ends. Whether it is the life of a human being, a bird, an animal, a nation, or a religion—every life ultimately searches for love. But where do we search for it? Searching for Love in the Pit of Pain We often search for love in the pit of pain. What, then, do we find there? More pain in place of pain. Another wound in place of a wound. A harvest of sorrow from the seeds of sorrow. Gradually, life turns into a deathlike silence. Its vitality, enthusiasm, and inner music disappear. Our lives continue to ache upon the fire of...
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The Harmonium of Life and Death

 The Harmonium of Life and Death Finding stillness within the movement of life The relentless speed of today’s world does not carry me forward; it holds me back. It leaves so little room for stillness that I sometimes feel it denies me the opportunity to participate in life in my own natural way. Even if I wished to join this race, I could not. Racing is simply not in my nature. I pause. I have always paused, and I believe I will continue to pause. But I will never race. Nor do I wish to learn how to swim merely to reach the shore everyone else is trying to reach. I can only drift. And even my drifting must happen in silence—not toward another shore, but deeper into the mystery of existence. The Disciple Hidden Within Me Every movement of life carries a lesson. Every event, relationship, silence, difficulty, and passing moment has something to teach me. When I become attentive to these movements, life transforms me into a disciple. I do not need to enter a classroom to learn from e...
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When Death Became the Leader

“Death taught me about death. Now life will teach me how to live.”   When Death Became the Leader When the fear of death disappeared, the journey toward life truly began. What makes a person a leader? Is it power? Is it authority? Is it the ability to command others? Or is leadership something much more intimate—the ability to discipline oneself so completely that even fear can no longer dictate the direction of one's life? I began to understand leadership differently when I discovered a purpose so compelling that the fear of death itself began to lose its authority over me. My purpose became stronger than my fear. And that changed everything. I Could Not Place Myself Above Anything I knew that I loved everything in the world. Nature. Living beings. The visible world. The invisible world within me. I could never place myself above anything else. How could I? How could I claim superiority over the world when I was itself a part of that world? I could hide something from another pers...
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When Beauty Looked Back at Me

 Beauty becomes shy when innocence recognizes itself. The face changes with time; consciousness changes the face's meaning. When Beauty Looked Back at Me A Conversation with My Own Beauty Today, when I looked at myself, something unexpected happened. I began to see a wondrous beauty within me. For a few moments, I simply looked. Then, strangely, I began to feel shy of my own beauty. It was not the shyness of someone seeking admiration. Nor was it the pride that comes from believing oneself superior to others. It was something entirely different. It felt as though, after a long journey, I had suddenly encountered someone I had always known but had never truly met. My own beauty. Unable to remain before that moment any longer, I closed my eyes. I wanted to spend a few quiet moments with this mysterious beauty that I had suddenly discovered within myself. But then, something even more astonishing happened. My beauty asked me a question: “What if I were ugly?” For a moment, I became si...
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The Workings of the Universe: The Process of My Existence and the Way I Gaze

 The universe is vast, but perhaps the greatest mystery is the one who is observing it. Eyes hold stories that the tongue has never spoken. The Workings of the Universe:  The Process of My Existence and the Way I Gaze There are moments when we look at ourselves and see more than a face. Something else appears. A memory. A feeling. A philosophy born in another moment of life. Today, I found myself truly endearing. The affection with which I looked at myself was extraordinary. Yet, as I continued to observe my own gaze, I felt something even more mysterious. It seemed as though a moment from my past was looking back at me through my own eyes. And suddenly, a question arose: Does the story of a past moment continue to reveal itself in the way we gaze? Perhaps a moment never completely disappears. Perhaps time carries the event away, but the experience remains. It may no longer exist as a visible memory. It may no longer speak through words. Yet somehow, it survives—in the way we ...
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