Untying the Inner Knots: The Courage to Feel, the Strength to Act
From ancient times, these have held their power through the One:
Heaven, through the One, remains clear.
Earth, through the One, stands firm.
The gods, through the One, receive their strength.
The valley, through the One, becomes full.
All living things, through the One, come alive.
Princes and kings, through the One, become rulers of the world.It is the One that gives each its nature.
Without it, Heaven would fall apart.
Without it, Earth would crack open.
Without it, the gods would lose their power.
Without it, the valley would run dry.
Without it, life would vanish.
Without it, rulers would fall and lose their place.Greatness is rooted in humility.
What is high must be built upon what is low.That is why princes and kings call themselves “orphans,” “alone,” and “worthless.”
Does this not show that humility is the true foundation of excellence?
The highest honour carries no pride.
Do not seek to shine like jade.
Be plain like a stone.Tao Te Ching — Chapter 39
Every person carries hidden tensions in the mind and body. These tensions feel like tight knots in a rope. They show up as fear, anger, guilt, low self-worth, or old habits we cannot break.
In oriental teachings this bundle of knots is called karma or samskara. In modern psychology it is simply stored memory and emotion. When the knots pull tight we react by blaming others, blaming ourselves, or feeling stuck.
How many knots I have loosened, yet a few still cling.
Gold rings once praised as beauty have left their mark on my skin.
I keep untying, knot after knot, breath widening in silent relief.
When the final loop falls open, there is no one left to blame.
only clear, living space.
When the old, lower mind starts its tricks like “You’re not good enough,” “Stay small,” “Feed the habit,” recognize the con. It isn’t fate or some outside enemy. It’s your own neural wiring replaying yesterday’s survival script. The body tenses, the gut tightens, the story loops. That’s a psychological knot.
“The natural mind shines like a lamp; greed, hate, and delusion are just passing soot.”
Two layers of mind
- Surface mind: Thoughts, moods, impulses, the “old ego software” that spins stories. “I’m stuck… they don’t respect me… I need a hit of sugar.”
- Luminous mind: Clear, alert awareness itself—silent, bright, unhurt. The steady knowing that notices those thoughts without getting dragged.
How to see the luminous mind
- Stop, feel, name. When an ego-game fires up, label it: “Worry story,” “Anger movie.”
- Stay with raw sensation. Let the body’s heat, tightness, or buzz be felt without commentary.
- Notice the knower. Behind the swirl is a calm witnessing—clear, spacious, present. That’s the luminous layer.
Your mind is already light. Defilements are weather. Learn to watch the clouds, and the sky is obvious.
Archetypes as Mirrors of the Deep Mind
When the surface mind is muddied by fear, doubt, or distortion, the deeper mind responds. Archetypes rise like hidden springs, bringing shape, meaning, and direction to the chaos.
Archetypes emerge from the depths of the psyche precisely when the surface mind can no longer guide us. They appear not as fantasies but as inner realities that reshape perception and restore meaning.
“It seems to me probable that the real nature of the archetype is not capable of being made conscious, that it is transcendent, on which account I call it psychoid.”
— Carl Jung, Collected Works, Volume 8, Page 417
Jung is saying that the true nature of archetypes cannot be fully grasped or made conscious. They exist beyond ordinary awareness. Archetypes are not mere thoughts or symbolic decorations. They arise from a deeper layer of reality—at once psychological and more than psychological.
Because they do not belong solely to the mind, yet influence it profoundly, Jung called them psychoid. This term points to their mysterious nature, existing at the threshold where mind meets matter, where the visible brushes against the invisible.
In essence, archetypes are not our inventions. They shape us. They rise unbidden from beyond thought, touching both soul and world. They are the language of the deep psyche, echoing the rhythms of the collective and the timeless.
“The psyche is not of today; its ancestry goes back many millions of years. Individual consciousness is only the flower and the fruit of a season, sprung from the perennial rhizome beneath the earth; and it would find itself in better accord with the truth if it took the existence of the rhizome into its calculations. For the root matter is the mother of all things.”
— Carl Jung, Collected Works 18, xxv
Jung is reminding us that the psyche is ancient, not a modern invention or just a product of the brain. Our personal consciousness, what we call “me,” is like a flower, temporary and seasonal.
But this flower grows from a rhizome, a deep and enduring root system that lies beneath the surface. That rhizome is the collective unconscious, the timeless layer of the psyche that holds ancestral memories, archetypes, and primal forces.
To truly understand ourselves, Jung says we must include this root layer in our awareness. It is not enough to analyze thoughts or behavior at the surface. We must reconnect with the deep source that shapes all life, the “root matter,” which he calls the mother of all things.
In short, the psyche is not a new spark. It is a living branch of an eternal root.
Archetypes arise from the luminous mind as skillful means—forms shaped by wisdom and compassion. They are not final truths, but reflections designed to train and refine the deluded mind. When approached with awareness, they serve as sacred mirrors. When their work is done, let them dissolve like dreams returning to the clear light of knowing.
The three protectors and why they matter
Tibetan Buddhism offers a vivid picture of how to loosen these knots. A famous mantra calls on three figures:
“Om Vajrapani Hayagriva Garuda Hum Phat”
Vajrapani – protector of power
Image: a blue being holding a thunderbolt.
Meaning: pure courage that smashes fear and hesitation.
Inside you: the will to face truth instead of avoiding it.
Hayagriva – guardian of truth
Image: a horse head of red or green fire placed above the main figure.
Meaning: fierce compassion that burns lies, sickness, and pride.
Inside you: honest passion that refuses self-deception.
Garuda – spirit of freedom
Image: an eagle-like bird flying above all.
Meaning: clear vision and rapid liberation from heavy energy.
Inside you: the viewpoint that rises above drama and sees the bigger sky.
When these three work together you meet problems with strength, burn away confusion with truth, and then fly free with clarity.
Facing the Naga
Nagas appear as serpent beings in Hindu and Buddhist lore. Psychologically they are the deep unconscious currents of desire and fear. If we pollute the mind with greed or hatred these currents turn toxic and make us restless or ill.
Nagas are the serpents of the unconscious. To confront them is to meet your own karmic knots, your hidden fear, suppressed desire, and unprocessed pain. To pacify the Nagas is to bring light to your inner depths.
They are neither inherently evil nor inherently good. They are powerful elemental spirits—sometimes symbolic of deep subconscious forces, unawakened desire, or ancestral karma.
If we respect them through sincere practice they become guardians and healers. So a Naga is not evil. It is suppressed energy waiting for proper care.
Within the Vajrapani-Hayagriva-Garuda thangka, the Nagas are the very knots.
- What you see: Garuda grips the serpent, Vajrapani stands in fire, and Hayagriva’s horse-head blazes above.
- What it means: The serpents picture the deep, twisted drives of fear, craving, and old hurt. Left unhealed, they coil into illness or sabotage.
Vajrapani supplies raw courage to face the knot. Hayagriva brings the fierce truth that melts its poison. Garuda then lifts the cleansed energy into clear awareness.
So a Naga isn’t evil; it is suppressed life-force waiting for care. When the trio works together the knot loosens, the serpent straightens, and that same energy becomes a guardian instead of a threat.
The mantra that brings it together
“Om Vajrapani Hayagriva Garuda Hum Phat“
- Om – The universal seed syllable, opening the mantra and aligning with the enlightened body, speech, and mind.
- Vajrapani – The wrathful protector and embodiment of the Buddha’s power. He holds the vajra (thunderbolt) and destroys delusion and ignorance.
- Hayagriva – A horse-headed wrathful deity and manifestation of Avalokiteshvara (compassion). Known for curing diseases, especially those caused by nagas and dark forces.
- Garuda – The celestial eagle who conquers snake energies (nagas), poisons, and subtle energetic blockages.
- Hum – Hum represents the unshakable and indivisible unity of wisdom, which is understanding emptiness, and method, which is compassionate action. It is the grounded presence within.
- Phat – A seed syllable used to cut through obstacles, illusions, and demonic forces instantly.
Purpose of the Mantra:
- Protection from psychic, energetic, and emotional disturbances
- Liberation from naga-related illnesses and subtle poisons
- Awakening of inner strength and clarity
- Cutting through egoic delusion and inner demons
This mantra unites power (Vajrapani), compassionate wrath (Hayagriva), and visionary freedom (Garuda). When chanted with deep intent and visualization, it burns through inner knots. Chanting this mantra while picturing the thangka painting ignites the same qualities within you.
The Tao, kundalini, and holding space
In Taoist language the ultimate reality is the Tao. The Tao is not a belief or a distant place. It is the silent flow that allows everything to grow.
When you stop forcing and start allowing, the Tao simply holds. This firm but gentle holding is like an anchor in the middle of life’s storm.
The same idea appears in yoga as kundalini. Kundalini is a living current coiled at the base of the spine. When the ego relaxes and spaciousness opens, this current rises.
If the ego curtain is thick the energy can turn sideways into anger or pride. If the curtain is thin the energy creates wisdom and compassion.
Inner knots are real, yet they can loosen. The power of Vajrapani, the fiery truth of Hayagriva, and the soaring freedom of Garuda live inside you as natural qualities of mind.
The mantra calls these forces forth. The Tao holds them in quiet presence. Kundalini supplies the rising energy. When you honour the Nagas—your own psychological knots—and allow this sacred trio to move through you, fear unravels, blame dissolves, and only clear being remains.
Summary
- Vajrapani = Power
- Hayagriva = Truth
- Garuda = Freedom
- Nagas = Hidden Energy
- Hum = Presence
- Phat = Breakthrough
Cut through illusion. Face each karmic knot. Burn away fear and repression. Release hidden energy with conscious, liberating power. Let steady presence ignite the breakthrough.
“The lower self burns, the higher self soars, and the True Self stands unshaken amid the flames.”
Sky and Thunder as One
The journey comes full circle.
Vajrayoginī, the crimson dawn of naked wisdom, slices every illusion, showing that all forms are empty light. When emptiness is clear, fear has nowhere to hide.
Out of that boundless sky rises the blue thunder of Vajrapāṇi—power devoted to service, not domination. Emptiness turns outward as unstoppable compassion, action that harms nothing and helps all.
Feminine and masculine are one unbroken breath:
- Vajrayoginī is the inward collapse of every false wall.
- Vajrapāṇi is the outward surge of fearless love.
Emptiness is not a bleak void. It is the seamless field where every being inter-is. When you know this, you feel every heart beat inside your own. Compassion is simply honesty in a borderless world.
- Prajñā (wisdom) — Vajrayoginī: Deep seeing that finds no solid core, only a shimmering web. “Form is emptiness; emptiness is form.” When this wisdom ripens, seer, seeing, and seen blend into clear light.
- Upāya (method) — Vajrapāṇi: Skillful means that sparks like lightning. From the sky of wisdom, deeds burst forth—teaching, feeding, protesting, or silently listening—whatever eases pain here and now. Upāya shields the Dharma and breaks obstacles so insight can dawn.
If you rest only in emptiness, the mind can feel like a clear but chilly sky—open, yet without warmth. If you move only in restless effort, your actions become thunder without rain—loud, yet feeding no one.
Buddhist teaching says wisdom and compassion must travel together. When clear seeing joins kind action, the sky gathers gentle clouds and rain falls, cool and life-giving to all.
Final Turn Holding the Center of the Storm
When anger flares the mind whirls like a water spout. Thought hooks thought, each sharper than the last, and you sink into the vortex that provoked you. Stop there. You are not the whirl.
Step one pace back and simply watch the spinning. In that single movement Vajrayoginī’s blade flashes, cutting the lie that you and your thoughts are the same.
From that still stance you meet the next challenge: other people’s shadows. Parents, bosses, strangers on a screen may project their own knots of fear or cruelty.
Meet their eyes without flinching. Feel the sting, let it pass through, and refuse to tighten. The Nagas cannot coil around your heart when you stand open.
If their words still hook you, a knot remains inside. Turn inward, breathe into the bruise, and allow it to soften. The world acts as an x-ray; anyone who upsets you points to unfinished work.
Now action is needed. This is Vajrapāṇi’s moment. From the clear sky of witnessing let the right response arise: a firm boundary, a calm no, or fearless kindness. This is power that serves awakening for everyone involved.
The cycle now turns around:
- See the spin.
- Step back from it.
- Untie the inner knot.
- Act from sky clarity.
Repeat until the whirlpool is nothing but moving water, and the water is nothing but bright space.
When wisdom and method move together like this, no insult sticks, no fear commands, and no knot stays tied for long. The red wisdom sky and the blue thunderbolt share one body, your own. Walk on.
Remembering Totality
- Aham Brahmāsmi — I am Totality.
- Tat tvam asi — You are That.
There is only one indivisible field of consciousness. It is whole, it is aware, and you are that. The prescription is simple: remember you are That. The conclusion is the same: Aham Brahmāsmi, I am Totality. These words cure nothing; they awaken the ancient memory of who you have always been.
They do not heal like medicine. They stir the knowing that one field of awareness looks through every pair of eyes. When that memory opens, the true cure appears by itself.
The cure is compassionate action.
Vajrayoginī is the red sky of wisdom that sees all forms as empty light. Vajrapāṇi is the blue thunderbolt of love that moves to help where pain appears. Two names, one reality: stillness flashing as aid, emptiness flowering as care.
To know you are the whole is to care for the whole. The breath of that care is Vajrapāṇi in motion, and its insight is Vajrayoginī at rest. Words become medicine, hands become shelter, silence becomes permission for another heart to breathe.
Remember you are That: the boundless, luminous emptiness uncovered by Vajrayoginī, where every form is unborn yet vividly alive.
From that same source, let power rise as Vajrapāṇi’s fearless skillful means, adaptive compassion that shapes word and action to the unique needs and capacities of each being in every moment.
“The wisdom of emptiness embodied by Vajrayoginī and the dynamic compassionate action embodied by Vajrapāṇi are sky and thunder, one indivisible reality.”
The Psyche, the Flame, and the Infinite
“Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited to all we now know and understand, while imagination embraces the entire world, and all there ever will be to know and understand.”
― Albert Einstein
The psyche is not a machine. It is not your brain. It is not a collection of thoughts, nor a list of traumas and triggers. The psyche is something far older, deeper, and more luminous.
It is the soul in motion, the inner landscape where experience, memory, image, and longing converge into the mystery of being human.
In ancient Greece, psyche meant soul and was pictured as a butterfly, delicate, transformative, and eternal.
In Jungian psychology, it is the totality of the conscious and unconscious—ego, shadow, dreams, symbols, the personal and the collective all woven into one living field.
In “The Spiritual Problem of Modern Man” (from Modern Man in Search of a Soul), Jung writes:
“The psyche is a self-regulating system that maintains its equilibrium just as the body does. The psyche is real. It is not a product of the brain.”
In CW11, Psychology and Religion, Jung says:
“The psyche is a world in which the ego is contained.”
Also in Letters, Volume 2, he writes:
“It is quite wrong to think that the psyche is identical with the brain or is a mere function of the brain.”
In Eastern traditions, it is called the subtle body: manas as mind, buddhi as intelligence, ahamkara as the ego-maker, and chitta as memory, all revolving around the silent witness, the Atman.
In Buddhist thought, the psyche is not a fixed self but a stream of appearances arising in the mirror of awareness. It is like a pattern in water, vivid, impermanent, and beautiful.
The psyche is where the drama unfolds, but it is not the stage itself. The stage is consciousness, the open and boundless presence in which all things appear. Consciousness is not a product of the mind; it is the light by which the mind is seen.
It does not belong to space or time. It simply is. Timeless, formless, and silent. The psyche is the vessel that holds that light, sometimes stained with confusion, sometimes clear with insight, always capable of reflecting the divine.
And beyond even this lies spirit. Not something separate, but the very flame at the center of it all. Spirit is the breath of life, the current that animates both psyche and body.
If the psyche is the lamp, and consciousness the glow, then spirit is the unstruck fire, the source from which both arise. The purpose of the psyche is not to be escaped, but to be refined, made transparent enough for the spirit to shine through.
This is why the psyche holds within it faculties that defy logic and time. Imagination that sees beyond space, intuition that knows without learning, love that touches beyond death.
These are not tricks of a clever brain; they are glimpses of a deeper order. The archetypes we dream, the symbols that move us, the stories that echo across cultures, all speak from the depth of a shared soul, not a private mind.
Science may measure the brain, but the psyche sings. And in that song is longing, myth, madness, poetry, prophecy, grief, and beauty.
It carries the memory of what we are and the possibility of what we may become. It is not an illusion. It is a mirror, a womb, a crucible. A bridge between the finite and the infinite.
Mother and father, red sky and blue thunder, wisdom and method—these appear as two only until you look from the still point within.
Remember you are That, the boundless luminous field where every form flashes into being and melts back into silence. From that same source let compassion rise as fearless skillful action, shaped to each beating heart.
Walk this world as Vajrayoginī at rest, seeing emptiness, and as Vajrapāṇi in motion, serving life. Sky and thunder are one indivisible reality, and it lives through you.
Time is brief; joy is now.
Step off the sidelines.
Forge what you know into action.
Live it all the way.
Mother → Child → Mother again
To live wisely is to come home to what you already are. Life begins in the quiet presence of the Mother, the still awareness at the heart of everything. We leave that calm center to explore, chasing names, roles, and desires. This outward journey is knowing the Child.
The farther we run, the more scattered we feel. The mind narrows like a laser, slicing life into tiny pieces, and peace slips away.
Clarity returns when we soften our focus and let the broader light fill the view. Grabbing every detail only breeds trouble. Restraint is strength. Silence is emptiness, yet emptiness brims with life; it is the open space where wisdom softly speaks.
Turn back to the Mother. Close a few doors of distraction. Drop the habit of constant judging and comparing. Then action becomes effortless, contentment rises on its own, and you walk through the changing world unharmed.
In the end, the Child longs for the Mother, and the seeker awakens to the stillness that has been here all along.
When you loosen your grip on endless doing and knowing, and rest in the quiet awareness that was with you before every thought, life looks simpler, feels fuller, and danger has few places to enter.
The Child’s long journey was only a dream, a brief spark in the boundless fire of awareness. Every quest, every ripple of joy or sorrow, every shifting mask of identity was the Mother’s own play of light.
Now the dream can relax and the play settles into quiet. What remains is presence, vast and radiant. The fire burns without effort, and the Mother holds all forms in her silent embrace.
Let go and close your eyes for a moment. You are not the spark that flickers and fades; you are the flame itself, the unborn source that never left.
No judgment, no fear, no guilt, no right or wrong. Life is a play. Open your eyes and flow. Chop wood, carry water, breathe and walk. Whatever you do, do it with full awareness and enjoy the show consciously. Live free.
Row, Row, Row Your Boat
Row, row, row your boat,
Gently down the stream.
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Life is but a dream.
You are not the voice in your head. You are not even the dream. You are the dreamer, slowly waking. So rest now into what is. The thoughts may dance. The world may change. But behind it all is that silent awareness, pure, whole, and free.
The psyche is your journey, but not your jail. Let it serve, not rule. Let it open, not trap. Let it be the painted glass through which the light of your being shines.
This is the secret known to sages, mystics, poets, and lovers. You are not the flicker. You are the flame. Not the echo, but the voice. Not the image, but the light behind the eyes. Timeless, vast, and whole.
And from this knowing, live.
Create beauty.
Love deeply.
Break old masks.
Burn false stories.
And become, fully, what you already are.
“Your soul won’t rest until you remember—you are the flame, not the spark; the dreamer, not the dream; the knower, not the knowing. You are the fourth. You are beyond number, beyond name, never born, and never to die.”
The ego appears as a spark, momentary and restless, grasping at identity. It believes it is the source, yet it is only a ripple of the deeper flame.
In Vedanta, the ego is a misidentification, a veil placed over the pure awareness of the Self. In Buddhism, it is empty of essence, a fleeting arrangement of causes and conditions. The Tao reveals that true power flows without assertion, and that wholeness moves quietly beneath all form.
From the view of the limited self, life often seems chaotic or unjust. But in the vision of truth—what Advaita calls the Self, what Dzogchen names the Ground, what Taoism describes as the Way—there is only unity.
No separation, no other. The ego does not endure. It arises, plays for a while, and fades. To surrender is not to lose. It is to remember. You are not the spark alone. You are the flame itself. You are the silent, indivisible fire that dances through all things.
Return often to the Mother, the source of all becoming.
Return often to silence, where no voice has yet risen.
Return often to emptiness, untouched by thought or form.
Return often to awareness, timeless and unborn.
Is it possible for the ego to know itself? Can the mirror reflect itself without distortion? Can a shadow trace its own edge without light?
We often ask whether the ego can become aware of its own selfishness, its fear, its deep hunger for worth and belonging. But how can a mask know the face beneath it? How can the one who hides be the one who sees?
And yet, something happens—something rare. A moment arrives when the mask begins to crack. Not by effort, not by will, but through the weight of life itself. The death of illusions, the failure of control, the silence that follows exhaustion—these open a space.
When ambition exhausts itself and suffering deepens into stillness, the ego begins to see. But it cannot see alone. It requires the presence of something deeper.
A Self that does not judge, does not interfere, but simply watches with unshakable stillness. The ego learns only when it is no longer the one in charge.
Can the ego escape its own torment? Or is that torment not the flaw but the fire? The furnace that softens its rigidity. The pain is not a punishment. It is the refining process. The agony is the very tool through which something greater begins to breathe through us.
The ego burns not because it is evil, but because it resists what it cannot control. It resists surrender. And yet, the burning is a sacred offering—fuel for the transformation of the whole.
When the ego glimpses the true Self, the vast unbroken field of being, it does not surrender easily. It resists. It rebels. It bargains. It plays victim. It plays god. And then it asks for sacrifice—not to give, but to delay.
Like the lamb on the altar, it does not know that it is both the offering and the one clinging to the knife. It drains you even as it fears dying. But beneath its noise lies something fragile. The ego is not a beast. It is a frightened child that learned to survive by pretending to be in control.
Look closely. Beneath the greed, beneath the envy, beneath the pride—there is confusion. There is fear. There is a hunger to belong. It does not know how to be free. It only knows how to cling. The very behaviors we resent in ourselves are the cries of a self trying not to disappear.
In this, the ancient image comes alive. Life does not destroy the ego by violence. It subdues it through rhythm. Through repetition. Through the steady return of truth.
As Shiva dances on the demon, not to kill but to awaken, so does reality press itself into every layer of illusion until only awareness remains. The demon does not scream—it sleeps under the weight of truth. The dance is not anger. It is the pulse of the real.
And here lies the mystery. Every ego believes it is the final self until it feels the gravity of something higher. Every self, when seen from above, reveals itself to be just another layer of ego.
What we call growth is simply the loosening of identity, the peeling back of one mask after another. What we call awakening is not a single leap but a continual surrender, layer after layer, identity dissolving into presence.
What we thought was the top was only the next step. What we thought was the end was only the middle.
This pressure from above is not punishment. It is grace—the foot of truth reminding each layer of what it is not. And from below rises the fuel of longing, the fire of suffering that pushes upward to meet it.
Together they create the forge. Grace presses from above, and fire rises from below. Only what is false burns in the meeting place between them. When the illusions fall away, what remains is not light alone, but the union of light and shadow.
Awareness that holds both. Presence that rejects nothing. Not sterile perfection, but living wholeness, where even darkness belongs. No ego, no fixed self, only the ever-turning mystery that reveals itself through contrast.
This is how the ego must be met. Not with a sword, but with compassion. Not with force, but with presence. Be the ground in which it collapses safely. Be the Mother, the space-holder, the still witness.
The ego is not your enemy. It is not your friend. It is a formation—shaped by survival, reinforced by time. The root of suffering is not the ego itself, but the forgetting of what is beyond it.
There is nothing to fight. Nothing to destroy. When remembering returns, the structure begins to loosen. The ego lets go, not by force, but by clarity.
Rest between Yes and No. Between control and collapse. Do not push. Do not pull. The illusion will burn when it must. The truth will rise, not as a thought, but as what has always been.
“Let it come by itself, by itself, by itself. There is no need to interfere. The psyche reveals itself in stillness, in its own rhythm. Just stay. Just breathe. Just witness. Just flow.”
I am everything and I am nothing. Both are true. It all depends on the lens. From one angle, I am the center of my world. From another, I am just a moment in the turning of time.
And from a broader perspective—from far above—you see a vast green meadow, and in it, a single raindrop disappearing into the soil. That too was me. That too mattered.
Is there a God? Is there not? Both answers carry truth. One sees God as the final peak of hierarchy, the grand design above all things.
But when hierarchy dissolves, when we stop looking up and start looking within, we see that divinity does not live only at the top. It lives at the center of everything. Each moment. Each atom. Each one of us.
And with that recognition comes humility. We begin again. We walk differently. We give equal pace to matter and spirit. Because when we grow only in material power, we build weapons. We chase control. We destroy what we fear.
But if we evolve inwardly with the same intensity, those weapons can become fireworks. Symbols of celebration, not domination. Sparks of joy, not war. Explosions of light to mark the end of illusion and the beginning of understanding.
And so, what now?
Sit. Breathe. That’s the first step, the last step, the step that was always waiting.
Let meditation be your medicine—not to numb, but to reveal. Not to escape the fire, but to burn rightly in it. Let the smoke of your own illusions choke you if it must, until the air clears, until clarity steps forward, not as a choice but as the only thing left standing.
You do not need to force your way through the dark night of the soul. You only need to sit long enough to see in the dark.
This stillness is not passive. It is revolutionary. Because the mind that no longer reacts becomes a mirror for the world. Because the one who does not flee the inner storm becomes a shelter for others.
Meditation is not only a personal path. It is planetary. A single candle does not erase darkness, but many together shift the atmosphere.
Perhaps that is why, across time and geography, some are called to stillness. To different corners of the Earth. To meditate not only for themselves, but for the whole. To anchor the collective in awareness, so the unconscious doesn’t drown the world.
You can join them. You can be one of the quiet ones holding the center, invisible but unshakable. Because in the end, the greatest revolution is not outer conquest, but inner clarity. And sometimes, the most radical act… is to take no action at all.
Just stay. Just breathe. Just be.
The inner universe will move when it’s ready. Until then, become the still point. The eye in your own storm. The meeting place of light and shadow.
Be the axis around which clarity turns. Let stillness do what force never could.
And in that silence, you will remember:
You were never waiting for the world to change.
You were waiting to wake from the dream,
to return to what has always been.
To stand naked in the now,
fully here, already whole.
Why are you afraid of your own Self? Why are you afraid of your own DNA? From top to bottom, left to right, your entire being is a dancing, wiggly field, a pulsing, vibrating pattern, alive with possibility.
Why fear this wiggliness? Perhaps deep in our subconscious we still carry old jungle fears, the fear of snakes, the fear of what moves, the fear of what cannot be pinned down. But listen carefully: most of this is just a story. And if it is a story, you have the power to awaken from it.
Your so-called “junk DNA,” those dormant strands, hold within them the Mother code, the deep creative force, the generative, living field that resides in you. When you activate this Mother DNA, you awaken ancient memory, you reconnect with your intuition, and you open to the subtle vibrations you were born to feel.
But be warned: as you awaken, guilt and fear will arise, not from within you, but from the outside world, from a society that wants to keep you controlled, silent, small. Do not let that stop you. Keep moving. Keep flowing.
The Tao is not rigid. The Tao is the eternal yielding, a flexibility that bends but never breaks. It is the eternal constancy, a quiet, steady return to the source, again and again, no matter the storm.
The world has lost its connection to this living, wiggly energy because of greed, envy, and the hunger for control. But you can reclaim it.
So ask yourself: What are you watching? What are you eating? Are you breathing consciously? Learn to sense your own vibrations. Feel your own stories, not the ones imposed on you.
Feel the Mother within. Emptiness is not absence. Emptiness is pregnant, full, waiting, alive. And it is waiting for you to wake up and dance.
When that particular DNA is activated, you will know it is alive within you. All that is required from you is to remain spacious so you can hold everything from top to bottom and from left to right without guilt, without fear, fully present and open.
Take care of yourself. Love yourself. Trust the quiet wisdom that lives within you.
The Tibetan Book of the Dead (Bardo Thodol)
The Bardo Thodol is a Tibetan Buddhist guide intended to help a person navigate the states between death and rebirth. It teaches that, after death, consciousness enters the bardo—an intermediate realm filled with enlightened and wrathful visions that mirror the mind’s own nature.
If these appearances are recognized as projections of the clear light, liberation is possible; if not, karma and desire propel the being toward another birth. Traditionally the text is read aloud to the dying or the recently deceased to guide them toward enlightenment or at least a favorable rebirth.
The Six Bardos
- Kyenay Bardo — the bardo of life: The entire span from birth to death, our ordinary waking experience.
- Milam Bardo — the bardo of dreaming: The dream state, where subtle visions arise each night.
- Samten Bardo — the bardo of meditation: Deep meditative absorption in which consciousness turns inward.
- Chikhai Bardo — the bardo of the moment of death: The dissolution of the elements and the first flash of clear light as life ends.
- Chönyid Bardo — the bardo of luminous reality: Post-death encounters with peaceful and wrathful deities, symbolic displays of one’s own mind.
- Sidpa Bardo — the bardo of becoming (rebirth): Karmic winds gather, driving consciousness toward its next embodiment.
Together, these bardos map not only death but the whole cycle of existence, highlighting many points at which freedom can dawn.
Freedom from Attachment
Guilt, fear, shame, craving, anger—none of these are the true enemy. The problem is the clinging that makes them seem solid. Tibetan masters say:
“Thoughts are clouds; mind is the open sky.”
Clouds need not be destroyed. See that they were never solid, and you stand in the clear light—timeless awareness beyond every story. Liberation begins not by fighting the mind but by seeing through it.
The Mantra Om Mani Padme Hum
- Om — the primal vibration that purifies body, speech, and mind, opening into the unborn quietude.
- Mani — the jewel of compassionate method, the thunderbolt of skillful action that shatters ignorance.
- Padme — the lotus of wisdom, unstained by samsara, flowering as the realization of emptiness.
- Hum — the indestructible unity of wisdom and compassion, the vajra mind beyond birth and death.
Mani resonates with Vajrapani (compassionate power), Padme with Vajrayogini (naked wisdom). Their union, sealed by Hum, is advanced understanding made simple:
“Be compassionate, act with love, yet know all things are empty—like dreams, reflections, flowing and free.”
Beyond God and Self
In the deepest Buddhist view there is no external creator. What exists is:
- Mind-nature: pure, luminous, empty.
- Awareness: unborn, unceasing, sky-like.
- Compassion: the natural outflow when emptiness and interconnection are seen.
Awakening means recognizing this buddha-nature—beyond ego, beyond the very idea of “me” or “God.”
Parallels with the Tao
The Tao of Daoism is strikingly similar:
- Not a god or ruler, but the nameless source and flow of all things.
- Ungraspable, yet present in every breath—soft, spontaneous, effortless.
“The Tao gives birth to one, one to two, two to three, and three to the ten-thousand things.”
Aligning with the Tao means ceasing force and clinging, letting the way move through you.
Breathe with the wind, let go of control.
Stand like the river, whole in each flow.
Empty your hands, no need to hold.
Walk as the Tao—silent, and bold.
Sky and Ocean Metaphors
The universal laws are intact; nothing is missing. Clouds may darken the sky, waves may toss the sea, yet:
- The sky is never the clouds.
- The ocean is more than its waves.
Remembering this is the task: live fully, knowing your nature is wider than every passing storm.
π as a Symbol of Infinity
Pi (π) is the ratio of a circle’s circumference to its diameter—an irrational, transcendental number:
π ≈ 3.1415926535… continuing forever without repetition.
See how a silent “0” stands before the leading “3”: emptiness first, then the trinity, and from that point the infinite dance begins. Thus π whispers of endlessness—truths sensed but never fully captured, just like the Tao.
Compassion: The Thread We Hold
Since nothing stands alone, let compassion weave us together:
“How can I help you?”
This simple mantra opens hearts, dissolves ego, and turns presence into healing. It is the path of the awakened heart—step by step, lifting one another when we stumble, holding the vision when the road grows dark.
Seeing Others as Ourselves
Ignorance (avidyā) reduces people to objects of lust, power, or use. Awakening reveals emptiness and interdependence, breaking the cycle of craving and suffering. One can no longer treat anyone as “other,” for their mind and pain are one’s own.
Beyond the Snake: Evolving Past Biology
“To go beyond the snake is to go beyond the limits of biology—beyond hunger, instinct, flesh.”
The snake is more than raw libido or cold blood; it is a coil, a knot of survival drives, traumas, and compulsions twisted tight inside the body-mind. Going beyond the snake is therefore not about killing it or fleeing biology. It is about uncoiling the knot until its tense spiral becomes a straight, open channel.
Oh Mother, look upon me, see how I have abused you, how I have used you for my small and selfish gain. Oh Mother, forgive me for my shortcomings, for this is who I am, shaped by my limits.
Oh Mother, guide me beyond the serpent’s coil, beyond the pull of biology, beyond the walls of my own making. Let me become a pillar of compassion, standing steady in your emptiness.
Oh Mother, surround me as the vast emptiness you are, the boundless space that holds all things. Let me rise through you, for you, as you — whole, humble, and free.
Raw Reflections
- “I need to stop eating meat. Why am I still eating it? Let me start with just once a week.”
- “We are not snakes… or are we?”
- “The next stage of evolution lies beyond this body.”
- “Perhaps the next evolution is not flesh, but a silicon chip.”
- “Beyond the snake means beyond biological limits.”
- “To go beyond the snake is to go beyond hunger, instinct, flesh.”
- “The dick — symbol of ego and desire — needs to shrink smaller and smaller, until we rise beyond the snake, beyond raw sexual drive, into something freer, vaster, beyond biology.”
- “The son must leave the mother’s wet womb and step into unknown lands to discover what lies beyond.”
- “Let me go, Mother. I must journey to distant lands, toward freedom.”
- “Thank you for giving birth to me, but now I need to go far, far beyond — toward more freedom.”
Key Reminders
- Be fully present, fully loving; know all is empty, flowing, free.
- Act without forcing, like the Tao.
- Ask, “How can I help you?”—and let compassion guide every deed.
Step by step, heart by heart—we move toward a horizon beyond bone and blood:
past the knots of hunger and fear,
past the coiled snake of instinct,
into a subtler architecture of being,
perhaps circuits of silicon, perhaps bodies of light,
perhaps consciousness free of any shell at all.
Each breath untwists another loop,
each act of compassion codes another lattice of clarity,
until the day the last coil falls away
and we stand upright in the open field.
life-force streaming straight as a beam,
able to choose flesh, chip, or pure radiance as our vessel.
That is where we’re going—together.
“The body appears, tires, and fades, yet the life that animates it is love itself—unborn, undying, without limit. Know this, and you live from more than survival; you live from the boundless.”
Whether we call the ground of reality “love” depends on what we mean by the word. If we reduce love to emotion or preference, it cannot span galaxies.
But if we use love to name the unbroken intimacy of everything with everything—the fact that atoms bond, stars fuse, minds feel, and beings reach toward one another—then yes: love is a precise pointer.
Physics calls it conservation and interaction; mystics call it boundless presence. Existential philosophers notice the same field from a different angle: in a universe with no predetermined meaning, we are still compelled to care, to choose, to create value.
That caring impulse is love wearing existential clothes. So the cosmic fabric is not sentimental, yet it is profoundly relational. Its very nature is to manifest, connect, and evolve.
Seen that way, love is not an added feature of existence—it is existence tasting itself in every form, from quarks to questions to the tenderness you feel right now.
We have never stepped outside the Mother. We only drifted into layers of dream, each one more detailed than the last. Now we are adding new layers made of code, chips, and augmented worlds.
If we stay asleep, these tools become walls that separate and control. If we wake up, they become bridges that link mind to mind.
To wake up is to remember the Mother as empty, open potential. In that clear space we see that every person, machine, and ecosystem already shares one heartbeat.
Compassion rises on its own, and fear loses its grip. From this clarity we can design systems that heal rather than dominate, guide rather than imprison, and serve rather than exploit.
The task is not to escape the dream but to become lucid within it. A lucid dreamer shapes the story with wisdom and care. When ordinary people recognize their shared root, the next generation of technology can grow like a forest, not a cage.
Equality will follow naturally, because no one will feel separate enough to crave complete control.
Remember the Mother. Feel the quiet in every breath. Let that quiet inform every invention, every policy, every act of daily life.
Then the dream within the dream will unfold as a field of mutual freedom, and each new layer will open wider space for joy.
Owl Headed Dakini
Tibetan: ’ug gDong mKha’ ’gro
’ug = owl ; gDong = face / head ; mKha’ ’gro = dakini (“sky goer”)
Sanskrit: Ulūkha-mukha Ḍākinī
ulūkha = owl • mukha = face
Meet ’ug gDongma
’ug gDongma is a mystical female figure in Tibetan Buddhism, classed as a dakini. She has the head of an owl and stands for deep wisdom that reaches beyond ordinary thinking. She appears in darkness, hinting at hidden truths that shine out when we let rigid beliefs soften.
What She Represents
’ug gDongma shows that real understanding comes when we move past black and white thinking. Her presence invites us to welcome the unknown and find clarity in uncertainty. She helps melt arrogance and strict moralism, leading us toward a kinder and more open view.
In short, ’ug gDongma is a sign of the wisdom that dawns when we release fixed ideas and open to the deeper truths of existence.
“Look, you cannot see it; its shape slips away.
Listen, you cannot hear it; it sinks beneath sound.
Reach, you cannot hold it; it slides through the fingers.
These three mysteries blur together and return to one.When it rises there is no dawn; when it sets there is no dusk.
Boundless and unnamed, it cycles back into nothing.
It is the form of no form, the picture of emptiness, the faint and elusive.Stand before it and the start is nowhere to be found.
Follow after it and the end cannot be seen.
Rest in the ancient Way, move with the present moment, and you touch the hidden thread that runs through all things.”—Tao Te Ching, Chapter 14
Living the energy of 14 means taking the limitless Spirit of the circle and giving it form in honest words, fair systems, and helpful work. In this way the infinite meets everyday life and turns awareness into compassionate action.
The work is here and now in the material world. The Trinity of Mother, Father, and Son teaches that our higher self must act through our hands, feet, and eyes. Serve, build, and love in this place; that is the mystery made practical.
“I love science, and it pains me to think that so many are terrified of the subject or feel that choosing science means you cannot also choose compassion, or the arts, or be awed by nature. Science is not meant to cure us of mystery, but to reinvent and reinvigorate it.”
― Robert Sapolsky
We must be more compassionate—toward others and ourselves. We must become spacious enough to hold every possibility without shrinking, to see both extremes without collapsing into either.
We need to recognize the place where opposites meet, where the bell curves merge, and feel the mystery that waits there. To stand in the middle is not to be empty, but to touch infinite possibilities.
Each of us is the center of the universe; wherever you stand is your center. And to stand truly at that center, breathe from the heart.
Let stillness rest between spark and flame, a hush where ideas wait to unfold.
Breathe that open space; choices spread like wings in newborn light.
Thought flows on as a clear river, and action follows as a calm sea.
The pause that joins them beats as the silent heart of the universe.
When you and I are present, without fighting inside, peace is not something we need to search for; it is already here, alive in the simple act of being aware.
You see, it does not matter where we begin; everything finishes in silence, and that silence holds the seed of the next beginning. We just need to go into silence enough times to understand the dance of flow.
And if you ask me what the dance of flow is, it is infinite possibilities, each of us moving through our own dance. But from the still point, in the heart of silence, it is all one flow, one dance, one undivided oneness.
And if you ask me again where this flow comes from, I will tell you, it comes from emptiness, always returning to silence.
And in that silence, we remember we were never separate.
We are all fortunate to have infinite endings and infinite beginnings, each one a gift within the great flow.
“There is neither creation nor destruction,
neither destiny nor free will, neither
path nor achievement.
This is the final truth.”
― Ramana Maharshi
“Nothing in nature is unclean except when misunderstood. In the presence of the divine, all things are pure. Yet if someone holds something to be impure, then for that person alone, it becomes impure.”
Life is play. Silence and play are not opposites; they arise from the same awareness, like waves and calm water sharing one ocean.
Emptiness may seem endless, yet it is never separate from the dance of form. When form appears, tasting it is truth exploring itself. When form dissolves, silence remains and is just as real.
Words such as liberation, enlightenment, and kundalini are also part of this play. They point toward the emptiness already alive within every movement and every pause, but the words themselves are only reflections on the water.
So engage without clinging. Let forms come and go. Friend or foe, joy or sorrow—each ripple travels across the same sea. Witness the play, move within it, and remember that nothing ever departs from the stillness it was born from.
Play is silence in motion. Silence is play at rest. Both reveal the single reality inviting itself to be seen.
Every lack, leak, and tangle of hair shows where the small self clutches at certainty. When you loosen that grip and face the storm of dark feminine power rising within, chaos stops being a threat and becomes a sculptor.
Surrender is the turning key. In accepting life exactly as it arrives, whole or broken, generous or sparse, you discover a grace that cannot be measured, a quiet abundance that flows only through open hands.
With clear eyes lifted to the sky you meet the elephant spirit of steady strength, feel the gentle weight of sacred duty, and welcome the many feminine layers that challenge and refine you. Walk forward in their wisdom.
Let each step marry courage with humility, action with wonder. In this union of surrender and purposeful service the journey reveals its hidden rhythm, and every moment becomes an invitation to live wisdom rather than seek it.
This is the story of Fire Rabbit Ding Mao.
- First, guard your flame: choose people and places that lift your energy, not smother it.
- Second, take the hero’s inward path, whether through art, service, study, or prayer, until your inner center wakes and guides your steps.
- Third, master quiet diplomacy: move through the world with alert ears and a still heart, letting calm shape each response.
Remember the Mother, the emptiness shimmering with boundless potential, from which all dreams arise. You and the universe appear together, form and emptiness in one breath. Accept whatever life offers, even what seems lacking, and the dream softens.
If we carry this awareness while shaping new worlds of chips and code, our tools will nurture freedom and connection; if we forget, they will weave tighter cages of control and separation.
Awaken to the quiet emptiness within, and we can dream again together with clear eyes and open hearts.
This is the dance of the Ding Mao fire rabbit, and it is home. Die every night to be reborn anew the next day, that is how Ding Mao beats the spider and embraces the emptiness.
This is your hero’s journey, your living myth, your unfolding story. Here and now, in the heart of time and space, you stand at the center of your own stage. Breathe in, feel the pulse of the cosmos within you, and let your next step become a sacred act.
Eat and think only what strengthens your spirit. Say no with calm confidence, knowing that every boundary you set is an embrace of your higher self.
Dance your dance with unapologetic joy, perform your act with clear intent, and don’t bother with the echoes of doubt around you.
When you choose what truly nourishes you, the universe moves in rhythm with your courage, and healing rises like a quiet sunrise inside your chest.
Inside this body you stand alone. Whatever you chase, taste, or own, the same untouched space remains within you. Distractions can cloud it for a while, yet when the noise fades you meet yourself again. If you never learn to rest with this aloneness, you miss the heart of life.
See its beauty: no one can enter or take away your inner sky. That clear emptiness is yours alone, wide as the cosmos. Do not fear it. Sit quietly, breathe, and let the silence bloom into joy. In that boundless space you discover that aloneness and wholeness are one and the same.
“You are not the body. You are not the mind. You are the boundless sky—pure awareness.”
This realisation does not ask you to reject the body or the mind; it invites you to embrace every layer of being, the seven skies unfolding within emptiness. The only obstacle is a mind that insists on division.
See that the manifest and the unmanifest are just two faces of one reality, and even those faces dissolve in the open whole. Emptiness dances as form, form rests in emptiness—each level already complete and inseparable.
The lotus and the mud bloom together, inseparable and perfect. Accept the present moment without carving it apart, and the undivided mind shines as freedom.
Stop before the cup overflows.
Hone a blade too long, and it goes brittle.Load a hall with jade and gold; who can guard it?
Boast of wealth and rank, and you sow your own downfall.Withdraw when the work is done.
This is the way of the Universe.— Tao Te Ching, Verse 9
Remember who you are: Know Thyself. Then, understand this—the play isn’t elsewhere; it’s here, in the manifested. Don’t escape the world. Instead, embrace this profound call to action: live fully and consciously within the reality that’s immediately available.
“Unmanifest and manifest breathe as the undivided, seamless Now. Embrace this moment and dwell in perfect wholeness. Form and formless flow as one in the eternal present. Welcome the whole, play your part, and witness the flawless Lila unfolding.”
You are not going anywhere, nor are you reaching anywhere. You have always been here, and always will be. This is it—the present moment, the creative flow of the Now. Create a new story. Dream a new dream.
“This is the journey of the Son, born of the Mother and, in the highest realization, one with the Father. Yet in this world the pilgrimage must still be walked by the Father, guided by the Son, and embraced by the Mother within the unfolding Leela, so that, here and now, we may merge into the Absolute.”
End where flow begins. Let every teaching be a rung, not a throne. Gather insight from saints, scientists, poets, and skeptics, then fashion an inner compass that keeps turning toward honesty. When any idea grows stiff, breathe out, let it dissolve, and welcome the next current. The mind needs symbols as the body needs food, yet no single symbol can claim the whole sky. Pray to a stone if it steadies your heart, but remember the stone is one note in an endless song.
Let your chosen deity serve as a stepping-stone, then let the stone sink back into the river. The mind needs shapes to grasp, yet each shape is only a pointing finger, never the moon itself. When devotion ripens, the form dissolves into clear space, and you stand where symbols end and the boundless cannot be named.
Feel the pull of non-dual awareness: the quiet sense that the seeker and the sought arise together. Rest there, then step back into the world with clear eyes. When fear whispers of meaninglessness, answer with creative action. When certainty hardens into dogma—atheist or devout—soften it with curiosity. Keep testing your edges, breaking small limits so larger horizons appear.
Life is not a puzzle to solve but a dance to join. Stand with the simple fact that existence is valuable in itself; all else is commentary. Move, pause, move again. In that rhythm the crisis opens into possibility, and wisdom keeps renewing like water flowing around every stone.
Let every symbol be fertile soil. Draw out its finest qualities—compassion, courage, clarity—and let them bloom in your psyche, shaping thought, word, and deed. Treat each image as a mirror polishing the heart, a seed inspiring creative service, a lamp widening awareness.
Use symbols to expand consciousness, never to attack or divide. Upgrade them when they stiffen, release them when they rule, and let inner silence reveal their deeper meaning. In that quiet space between thoughts, reverence turns toward growth, nourishing life instead of narrowing it. Then symbols unite rather than separate, guiding you to create, to flourish, and to lift every being into an ever widening consciousness.
“Bow to the form until it melts into silence, then stand within that silence and know: the sheer fact of being is the highest gift. The ultimate treasure is not the symbol but the simple fact that you are here, aware, and alive.”
Now begin anew and choose a different play. Why repeat the same drama of enlightenment? The moment you grasp this, you are already free. Congratulations.
“Let us unite to dissolve all suffering, expand consciousness, create with fearless joy, and sail toward untold horizons.”
Download the certificate, add your name, and embrace your new life; only you can give this gift to yourself. There’s nowhere else to go apart from right here, right now. I am home.
“The instant you reach for words, the essence slips away.
Just let it go, just be.
You be you, I be me.
In the embrace of emptiness, let us wander, hold each other, and flow as One.”
“Let go”
“This is our HOME.”
