I am writing these pages on a hot summer day, actually, a scorching one.
Where humanity is heading remains a mystery. On the one hand, I trust in the human capacity to find solutions and compromises; on the other, climate change and the continuous wars put my optimism to the test.
In such a context, so heavily charged with conflicts, divisions and verbal confrontations, I have recently returned from an intense period of practice in the United States, at the Himalayan Institute in Pennsylvania. I went deeper into the tradition through the experience of Maha Sri Yaga, a practice involving meditation and collective ceremonies, and through teachings connected to Sri Sukta, over a period of two weeks. I am still processing all the teachings and everything I saw and perceived.
The experience represented an important passage for me because it was not merely a ritual practice, but an integration of Hatha Yoga, Vishoka meditation, mantra and Sri Vidya, within the lineage connected to Swami Rama. During the intensive, I received initiation into the Sri Vidya tradition and personal guidance regarding the practice.
My character and mindset have always been scientific and pragmatic, and I will maintain this approach in this article as well. But if there are psychologists, scientists or atheists among the readers, know that what I perceived goes far beyond what classical science is currently able to describe.
On the other hand, I did not use substances, nor did I have isolated or unrepeatable experiences. Repeated experiences, confirmed again and again, have shown me something about the essential and profound nature of the practice.
So, what did I do? Wasn’t it a Yoga retreat? Yes, it was… but we need to agree on what Yoga actually is. What conception of Yoga do we have, and what possibilities do we have, by reading these pages, of grasping new perspectives?
These possibilities open up only if we are willing to be humble, not to rush towards immediate judgments, and not to reject what we have not yet verified for ourselves. Only in this way can we continue our practice and expand it.
The mind is the most precious resource we have had available since birth. Through it, as a species, we have been able to evolve, expand our knowledge and create extraordinary things, pushing ourselves towards unimaginable achievements.
Yoga is the study of the mind
The premise — and here there may be your first act of trust — is that our body and mind are manifestations of a higher Mind. I am not talking about Sun Salutations, nor about emotional release, relationships with our parents, or pranayama. I am proposing a fundamental principle, one that must be verified through Yoga. This principle is explicitly mentioned in Patanjali’s Yoga Sutra, not as an alternative possibility but as something inevitable and certain.
How can we verify this, and why should we be interested when there are so many problems in the modern world?
I agree: asking ourselves about the existence of God when we are unable to respect those close to us, love our fellow human beings, live together, or take care of ourselves, our anxieties, fears and personal traumas, would simply be a philosophical exercise masking an escape from reality. So the necessary premise is that asking this question does not exclude the responsibility of working with the shit: our anger, our prejudices, our desires.
Clinging to an idea of God while rejecting the world around us is an insult to the very gift of life.
Isn’t it true that we are already deeply and constantly absorbed in success, achieving our dreams, pursuing personal happiness, power, fame and recognition? Aren’t we already doing enough of that?
And isn’t it also true that some of us have already embarked on psychotherapy in order to stabilize ourselves, find our center, and identify the causes of our suffering and trauma?
A life oriented solely towards the material world has already given us so many tools, so many satisfactions, struggles and disappointments. We study for twenty or thirty years, begin a life shaped by careers and sometimes passions, find a partner, start a family or follow a single life. But at night, when we lie down and the noise and fireworks subside, perhaps a deeper question arises, a voice whispers: what is the meaning of all this?
As we grow older, relatives and friends pass away. On those occasions of grief, we ask ourselves again about the meaning of life. We read books, go to some guru or priest, and seem to grasp a meaning. A few months later, all of this fades away and we return to our daily routine, made of excessive reactions, automatisms and prejudices. Or we continue with our conscious observations because we are “mindful.” But even those accustomed to observing themselves may ask: and then? What does it mean? What does it mean to observe ourselves through the breath and do things in a “mindful” way?
The point is that our lives often proceed without a spiritual essence, without a deep and intimate contact with what is. We are precise, we listen to ourselves, confusing yoga with psychotherapy, yoga with self-analysis. It is an excellent starting point, but it is not enough. We are still rejecting. We are still in technique.
What does this mean? Am I proposing a religion?
Not exactly. What fascinates me about Yoga is the return to its origins, to a time when religions did not yet exist. God — whether male or female, the Divine Mother, Chandra, the sacred fire, call it whatever you wish — the moment we name it and attempt to describe it, we lose its essence.
We turn towards this entity without really knowing whether it exists, whether it is real, how it manifests or under what circumstances. We turn towards it when we are in deep crisis, when the ego has been thrown to the ground before a precipice: then we are willing to bow down humbly. This happened to me many years ago, when I came face to face with death. But I am not here to talk about myself.
What kind of relationship do we think we have with this dimension? Is it a dimension that commands? That punishes? That grants favors if we behave well? That fights Evil? All these questions were addressed during this intensive period of practice, but I do not want to go too deeply into this subject, because these are questions that can easily be manipulated by those who read with malicious intent.
Let me repeat: if you read these pages with an attitude of challenging me, I don’t care. I am sharing a path with you, whether you like it or not. The question you should ask yourself is: do I want to go deeper in order to move closer to this dimension?
The other question is: is it possible that I — who am neither a guru nor a priest, who do not have a degree in Eastern studies nor an academic chair — could be so arrogant as to want to help you experience something so immense?
Can you respect my desire not to be a guru, not to have a turban on my head, nor a long white beard, a wild tattoo or barefoot friar’s sandals on my feet? If we get beyond this formality of appearances, then we can begin to focus on ourselves, not on my personal experience of the Absolute.
We were saying that our mind is our most precious resource. Here Patanjali helps us by formulating a wonderful project of practice: Abhyasa and Vairagya. Constant practice over time, without interruption and with trust; constant observation of oneself, which implies letting go. This is not passive letting go but active, dynamic, present letting go: not a force arising from rejection but an energy that spontaneously emerges over time, embracing with compassion and transforming. Only in this way can we understand that there are no commandments, but appropriateness, a sense of responsibility within space and time.
Being punctual and appropriate
When we practice, that is, Sadhana, with what kind of mind do we approach it? Do we practice so that we can relax?
If we are beginners, we may approach it with a “hobby” mindset or simply out of curiosity. In the first case, there is not the slightest trace of sacred respect towards the practice: we consider Yoga a form of exercise or, at most, a relaxation technique. In the second case, when moments of difficulty arise, we may feel that we are not progressing and curiosity, having not been fed and nourished, will lead us to abandon the practice itself.
I cannot force you, but I can help you experience something.
Something that is not visualized, not induced through verbal manipulation, nor stimulated through chemistry. What emerges is a space of inner joy and luminosity that arises through a sequential, consistent and methodical system of practice. The experience emerges through unveiling, not because I push or force it. Yet enthusiastic effort is necessary. Then, however, we have to let go of everything and allow ourselves to be guided.
The experience that emerges needs to be contextualized over the years through the study of texts, sharing, retreats and intensive periods of personal practice.
It takes time.
This is not a competition to see who can collect the most colors: please spare me these approaches. Whatever the experience may be, it is yours: it is dignified, loving and perfectly fine as it is. It may be more or less intense; it is equally fine.
It takes trust.
By studying the Yoga Sutra we can understand what it means that, when the mind relaxes, an inner dimension emerges.
We discover the causes of mental fluctuations, anxieties and fears. We discover why, in moments of silence, a sense of restlessness arises, a drive to search. And if we are not ready, we transform that drive into an attempt to fill the silence with activities that numb us: sex, alcohol, drugs, television series, social media, sport, travel. Anything can be used to put into motion a great escape. But how could we escape from our own shadow? What is this desire? Some propose eliminating desire. But a life without desire is a life that does not expand, that does not nourish itself. Desire must be redirected, enveloped in love and non-egoic compassion.
The mind operates in a mathematical and scientific way. The Yoga Sutra tells us exactly how its mechanism works and how to slow down negative tendencies and habits, cultivating inner peace and proactively moving away from what does not benefit us and distracts us from the path.
We discover that body and mind are manifestations of one another, and that the breath connects the mind to the body.
Are you interested in the theory of the vagus nerve and its scientific implications? I made a video on this subject, which you can watch here.
However, this still does not explain why we are here, why five thousand years ago we were told that consciousness was never born and never dies, why we have taken this physical form on this planet, and what our purpose is. Porges’ polyvagal theory will not explain all of this to us.
If we are willing to let go, to sit still in meditation for at least 40 minutes, not to fight but to surrender during those moments, then something happens. Some would say: nothing special. Fine. But isn’t it extraordinary to discover that there is a dimension of which we are a part, and that its intention is purely compassionate? And isn’t it extraordinary to discover that we are always in the company of a dimension of knowledge and wisdom?
How can I say such a thing when the world is literally on fire? How can such a compassionate dimension allow us to kill one another?
My limited understanding is that this system in which we live is a mechanism through which we experience something: the power of the mind, which derives from a Great Mind. We are talking about physical laws, energies and mathematical formulas that manifest pure compassion.
It is up to us to know how to use these laws to help others and create favorable conditions so that we can live together peacefully, and then unite with this dimension. Transforming, that is, the wheel of Karma into the wheel of Dharma.
And when we are in union, we no longer need to ask ourselves whether we are enlightened, whether God exists, or what the meaning of life is: we are That Which Is.
Am I saying something blasphemous? Yes, if you are entrenched in a religion. No, if you relax and accept that there is a sense of responsibility and ethics guiding us towards this dimension.
There is no point in looking for shortcuts or inventing new meditation methods while setting ethics aside simply to pursue approval. The practice must be embraced in its entirety, with patience and over time. It works deeply and in multiple directions, even when we are not aware of it. What truly matters is remaining sincere with ourselves and doing our very best, every day.
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