***

Readers of “59 plus” are often startled by its most provocative assertion: far from fading away, certain human capacities actually flourish and expand beyond age sixty. This notion challenges our cultural assumptions about aging. After all, conventional wisdom paints later life as an inevitable downward trajectory—a time when both body and mind gradually surrender their powers.

Yet 59 plus presents a radical proposition: just as toddlers cannot walk until their legs develop the necessary strength, and adolescents cannot experience sexuality until puberty completes its work, certain human capacities remain dormant until our seventh decade unfolds.

This assertion—that our developmental timeline extends far beyond youth—challenges fundamental assumptions about human biology. We confidently map the arc of physical maturation from infancy through adolescence, but have we been premature in declaring its completion? What if our understanding of biological development has been artificially truncated, blind to the subtle metamorphoses awaiting us in later life?

Among the revelations in 59 plus is a startling concept: “quantum empathy”—a profound emotional capacity that typically remains dormant until our seventh decade. The book further challenges convention by suggesting our cognitive powers actually expand after sixty, as we finally shed the mental frameworks imposed throughout our lives. Such assertions directly contradict our cultural mythology that innovation belongs exclusively to the young. At first glance, these claims might appear to be mere wishful thinking—comforting fictions we tell ourselves about aging. Yet what if our dismissal is premature?

In October 2025, the Intelligence journal published findings that upend our understanding of cognitive development. The Australian research team, under Professor Gilles Gignac at UWA’s School of Psychological Science, created a comprehensive psychological index that tracks mental capacity across the lifespan. Their data reveals a surprising trajectory: our mental faculties actually strengthen through middle age, reaching their fullest expression between 55-60 years, only then beginning a gentle descent that accelerates after 75.

This research reveals a counterintuitive truth: when faced with complex decisions, leadership challenges, or emotionally charged situations, individuals in their sixth and seventh decades frequently demonstrate superior outcomes compared to those in their twenties and thirties. While conventional wisdom celebrates the apparent speed of younger cognition, Professor Gignac’s findings suggest this advantage may be illusory when measured against the deeper capacities that flourish only with time.

There are additional details:

Conscientiousness usually peaks around the age of 65.

Emotional stability peaks around age 75.

Moral judgment and the ability to resist cognitive biases may continue to improve into the 70s and 80s.

These findings align with ancient Jyotish wisdom about Saturn transits, suggesting our third life cycle—from our sixties through our nineties—may actually represent a period of continued growth rather than inevitable decline.

What makes this research particularly compelling is that it contradicts our cultural expectations, even as it studies individuals fully immersed in those same limiting beliefs. One can only wonder what untapped potential might emerge if we collectively reimagined this life stage. Should we shed our preconceptions about aging, I believe we would witness the blossoming of capacities currently beyond our imagination—latent abilities awaiting only our permission to flourish.

Let me elaborate on the concept of quantum empathy, which features prominently in my work. Current research reveals a fascinating pattern: while our intellectual ability to understand others’ perspectives may slightly diminish with age, our capacity for genuine sympathy and our motivation to act compassionately actually strengthen over time. This suggests a profound shift—the analytical mind steps back as the heart steps forward. Quantum empathy—a term unfamiliar to contemporary researchers—represents the culmination of this developmental journey. If we conceptualize empathy as evolving from cognitive understanding to emotional resonance and finally to what I call “complete empathy,” it follows that this most sophisticated form would emerge latest in our developmental timeline, flowering entirely only as we enter our eighth decade.

Another dimension explored in 59 plus concerns the relationship between consciousness development and biological changes in our endocrine system—particularly the pineal gland, long considered the biological seat of transcendent awareness. While conventional science documents an apparent decline in these systems after sixty (pineal calcification and disrupted melatonin cycles that compromise sleep quality), emerging research challenges this narrative. These changes, once considered inevitable aspects of aging, now appear to be malleable responses to environmental and lifestyle factors—suggesting that what we’ve labeled “natural aging” may instead be optional deterioration.

We can also prevent what many consider inevitable hormonal shifts of aging. Consider the parathyroid: rather than accepting diminished bone density and vitamin D synthesis as unavoidable, evidence suggests we can stimulate increased parathyroid hormone production well into our later decades. Similarly, research indicates that the aging adrenal system often develops an enhanced cortisol response—not a deficiency but an adaptation that sharpens our survival instincts and danger recognition when we need them most.

The aging body reveals remarkable resilience: when seniors adopt regular exercise routines, their pituitary glands often respond by increasing growth hormone production. Similarly, while thyroid hormone naturally declines with age, the body usually compensates by elevating TSH—a sophisticated adaptation that highlights the endocrine system’s inherent intelligence rather than its deterioration.

These findings suggest we may be witnessing only a shadow of what’s possible in our later decades. The interplay between our beliefs, daily habits, and genetic expression could transform the post-sixty landscape entirely. Even leading researchers acknowledge that the vast territory of human potential remains largely unmapped.

While contemporary science works to quantify what ancient wisdom traditions intuited through direct experience, we stand at a threshold of possibility. The third Saturn cycle—those years from sixty to ninety—need not follow the script we’ve been handed. Rather than surrendering to decline, we might instead discover this as our richest season—a time of unprecedented emotional depth, cognitive clarity, and vibrant engagement with life itself.

***

In English, the book “59+” can be purchased through Amazon in print and electronic editions: https://www.amazon.com/59-Get-ready-best-come/dp/9538370236/

Also, the English edition is available here: https://books.by/adriankezele

This method is grounded in the fundamental principles of effective silent meditation, yet it incorporates my unique insights on what truly matters and what doesn’t. The key element of this meditation technique is a personalized adjustment to ensure it yields the desired outcomes.

I’m referring to Integral Meditation (IM). This isn’t just a catchy title; it accurately reflects what the technique achieves. I have practiced IM myself for many years and have taught it to thousands of others. Due to the personalized adjustments and the delicate nature of the practice, mastering IM requires direct interaction with me. The IM course only takes a few days, perhaps a weekend. While in-person sessions are preferable, it can also be conducted online.

Here is the essential information about Integral Meditation.

The concept of Integral Meditation is rooted in the Yoga Sutra, a text traditionally attributed to the sage Patañjali. At the outset of this text, Patañjali introduces the notion of “the state of yoga,” which he describes as “unmovable consciousness”—a poetic way of referring to a consciousness free from disturbances. Thus, yoga is synonymous with “pure consciousness” or “consciousness as it inherently is.”

Suppose you wonder how to achieve this state. In that case, Patañjali suggests: “by surrendering to the natural creative process” (1:23). Although this may seem abstract, it involves refraining from action and allowing nature to take its course. Note that “surrendering,” or letting go, forms the core of an effective meditation practice. A trained meditator can easily apply these principles in daily life.

Does “surrendering” imply that we must be passive during meditation? Do we simply sit and do nothing? In a way, yes. However, meditations where you literally do nothing and let your mind wander freely have a few significant drawbacks.

To begin with, people often naturally start focusing on observing their own thoughts. This divides their attention, and instead of achieving yoga (which essentially means “connected” or “harnessed”), their consciousness is split into two parts: one that is active (thinking) and another that is observing (which is also a form of activity). Essentially, merely observing your thoughts leads to nothing and doesn’t bring you any closer to achieving complete silence.

This approach creates a divided awareness that undermines the very purpose of meditation. While such self-observation might serve introspective contemplation, it fails entirely as a meditative practice. Even in the rare instance where thought-flow subsides, the observational stance persists, preventing access to pure consciousness—the undivided awareness that meditation aims to cultivate.

Secondly, at its deepest levels, our consciousness generates tremendous creative energy. In the third book of Yoga Sutras, Patañjali illuminates these latent powers we all possess and outlines methods for awakening them. While the Integral meditation program includes advanced exercises for this activation, we should recognize that this process operates continuously in our minds, producing our creative insights, novel concepts, and intuitive flashes. Think of awakening these hidden abilities as similar to computer programming—the software determines the operations. When you program with intention and knowledge, you achieve desired results. However, random, uninformed inputs send your mental “computer” chaotic instructions. The best outcome might be mere static; the worst could be genuinely unpredictable and potentially destabilizing.

Individuals who engage in passive observation of their thoughts unknowingly trigger powerful processes. Typically, neither their mind nor body is prepared for such effects, which is why this practice is not advised.

Instead of aimlessly wandering around, Patañjali advises using “the vibration of a thought” or pranava, as mentioned in sutra 1:27. Surrendering to the natural flow of consciousness is just one aspect of the practice. The second aspect involves the pranava of a specific sound, such as the sound of a word, a thought, or “the shape of a sound.” The term “pranava” is not widely recognized in the West, but it is typically associated with the word “OM” or “AUM” in yogic tradition. When an average person hears this, they often follow an unusual but generally accepted train of thought and arrive at the word ‘mantra’.

So, do we use a mantra in IM?

Certainly not. We use a pranava, just as Patañjali advised in his foundational yoga texts.

But what’s the distinction, and why shouldn’t we call it a “mantra”?

The term “mantra” is not entirely accurate, and there’s a significant distinction between a mantra and a pranava.

When people hear about mantras, they often assume these are mysterious Sanskrit words, Hindu prayers, or some mystical spell. A common misconception about proper meditation is that it involves “mantra practice.”

Consider what typical “mantra practice” entails: the continuous repetition of a phrase, either indefinitely or for a predetermined count. Now reflect on our earlier discussion about mental silence and pure consciousness. How could repetition—an inherently active process—lead to stillness? It cannot. When you assign yourself the task of endlessly repeating a mantra, your mental activity doesn’t subside—it intensifies. Rather than quieting your mind, you’re filling it with the very phrase you’re repeating.

Thus, we have reached another definitive conclusion: mantra practice is not the same as meditation!

Because of this, and considering that the term mantra is often misused and many people have their own interpretations of what a mantra signifies, its meaning, and its purpose, I prefer to use the original term—pranava—in my approach. Patañjali clearly defines and explains the process of meditation, including how and why it occurs.

The pranava serves as a cornerstone of Integral Meditation, but only when properly integrated with the surrender to natural creative impulse. As you master IM, you’ll discover your own personalized pranava. Each individual resonates with a unique vibrational signature—it’s far more effective to harness the sound already vibrating within you than to impose an external one. Think of pranava as the singular harmonic expression of your mind-body system, a distillation of your internal symphony into one resonant mental tone. Before proceeding further, we should examine the concept of sound vibration in various meditation traditions more closely.

Various meditation schools, while aiming for Patañjali’s “unmovable consciousness,” employ different approaches—typically using what they term “mantras.” These mantras often fall into two categories: universal ones, such as OM or SO HAM, that aren’t personalized, and those carrying explicit meanings, which contradict Patañjali’s guidance about using “sound shapes without content.” When a mantra contains meaning, it ceases to function as a true pranava. Contemporary meditation methods, such as Benson’s Relaxation Response, suggest that any word will suffice—whether invented, meaningful like “Love,” or even divine names. Even the technically sound Western practice, as found in “The Cloud of Unknowing,” overlooks this crucial distinction regarding the sound’s meaning. With meaning-laden mantras, the meditation no longer leads to Patañjali’s pure consciousness but instead produces alternative states colored by the mantra’s content. While these states may be pleasant or spiritually significant, they don’t reveal consciousness in its content-free essence—the true goal of pranava meditation.

Many traditional meditation schools, particularly those with religious foundations, often assign practitioners what they call “mantras” that are actually divine names from their sacred texts. When questioned, some teachers may initially deny that these words carry specific meanings. Yet, a persistent inquiry typically reveals the truth—these are indeed the names of deities. While such practices might superficially appear to meet Patañjali’s criteria for pranava (especially to Western practitioners unfamiliar with the source language), they leave little room for personal resonance. More troublingly, this approach raises ethical concerns about cultural appropriation and potential religious indoctrination that occurs without full disclosure.

So, what steps should we take? We are unfamiliar with the correct methods for meditation and the pranavas, and it’s clear that there are significant variations in teachings. Even Patañjali’s writings don’t provide us with the guidance we need. He only outlines the basic concept—the use of the “shapes” of sound, meaning the energy of the words, without focusing on the meaning they convey.

Clearly, we’re navigating uncharted territory and need to find a secure way out. One option is to dismiss the entire concept of pranava as unnecessary. Alternatively, we could embrace one of the traditional teachings as truth, but this requires selecting from hundreds, based solely on our limited understanding. We could also conduct extensive scientific studies to evaluate the effectiveness of various mantras or pranavas. For those interested in meditation, any of these approaches—or even a combination of them—could be pursued. Lacking other options, people often do just that, inadvertently adding layers of misunderstanding to the practice of meditation.

Ah, there’s another path to explore. Naturally, it’s the less-traveled road. This path involves rediscovering the original pranavas of Patañjali.

Having devoted twenty years to meditation practice—following Patañjali’s methodology though without fully grasping the concept of “sound shapes”—I eventually resolved to seek knowledge about pranavas directly from consciousness itself. I should emphasize that this approach isn’t reserved for specially gifted individuals. If pranavas truly function as gateways to pure, unmovable consciousness, then this knowledge must be universally accessible within everyone’s awareness—an inherent aspect of consciousness’s architecture, woven into the fabric of natural law.

While it might seem like a challenging and bold endeavor, everything proceeded smoothly and with relative ease. Naturally, achieving this wouldn’t have been possible without prior experience in proper meditation and a strong drive from a discerning mind. The outcome is Integral Meditation, which I consider my finest offering. With all due respect to other options, let me briefly explain the fundamental concept of personalizing pranava and the entire process of instructing IM.

***

In our eagerness to provide our analytical minds with unrestricted access to all types of knowledge, we often overlook the principles of the spirit. Scientists aim to clarify the process and effects of meditation, yet teaching this skill is quite intricate. It encompasses numerous aspects, not only technical, but also psychological and social. You cannot examine the impact of meditation on people as you would assess the functionality of a machine or software. Applying scientific methods to the spiritual domain is challenging, and attempting to do so may lead to confusion.

The transmission of meditative knowledge transcends mere technical instruction—it’s a deeply psychological exchange. Success depends on far more than mechanical steps; a student’s receptivity and expectations often determine outcomes more than the technique itself. Likewise, a teacher’s presence, authenticity, and embodiment of the practice can either illuminate or obscure the path for their students.

When examining the vast amount of scientific research on the effects of meditation, you can easily spot the shortcomings. A major issue is the inability to compare different techniques unless they are at a similar level of instruction, learning, and practice. Only a few studies address this problem. In 1978, psychologist Patricia Carrington sought to establish a standardized clinical practice for meditation to eliminate errors and redundancy caused by varying teaching methods from different psychologists or instructors. She demonstrated that the success of meditation is significantly influenced by factors such as the candidates’ expectations, the impact of their learning group, the ritualized teaching method, the presence of a charismatic teacher, and even whether the course is free (with free classes being less effective).

Can science truly isolate the essential variables of meditation? Even if researchers managed this feat, they would capture only a partial truth. Unlike medication, where placebo effects operate on a single level, meditation creates recursive feedback loops within consciousness itself. A properly executed meditation practice doesn’t merely reduce stress—it gradually transforms the practitioner’s entire belief system. With sustained practice, these internal shifts naturally extend outward, reshaping daily habits and fostering a more balanced lifestyle.

Nevertheless, when beginning from the start, it’s logical to inquire about the initial conditions. For instance, is meditation more effective when taught within a rigid belief system, or should it be approached merely as a self-help method? Is it more beneficial for an individual to have the backing of a group, and how can one distinguish between the effects of group dynamics and the effects of the meditation itself?

Patrizia Carrington penned her conclusions in “Clinically Standardized Meditation: Instructor’s Manual” (1979). As indicated by the title, it serves as a standardized guide for teaching meditation. Interestingly, many traditional meditation schools also emphasized the necessity of standardized and verifiable teaching processes. In the absence of scientific reasoning, this concept was realized through a framework of strict, orthodox rules governing the conduct of both teachers and students equally.

Many meditation traditions have guarded their methods as closely held secrets—not out of mysticism, but pragmatism. This apparent contradiction to scientific openness actually aligns with Carrington’s research findings. Her work demonstrates that standardized teaching protocols protect the practice’s integrity. When instruction varies too widely or depends excessively on individual teachers’ interpretations, the effectiveness of meditation diminishes predictably and measurably.

Whether we appreciate the mystical secrecy of traditional teachers or favor the latest research advocating for a standardized approach to ensure successful practice, the conclusion remains unchanged: the teaching process is just as crucial as the meditation process itself!

Here is the detailed answer to the question of whether to learn meditation from a book, a YouTube channel, or a friend. Attempting to learn meditation in these ways may not only lead to missing out on the potential psychological boost that comes from being part of a supportive group, but also the spiritual guidance provided by a seasoned teacher—an individual who, by definition, should be an experienced meditator. Moreover, this approach often overlooks the unique individual differences that a skilled teacher would factor into the meditation practice. One of the most significant individual differences lies in the distinct mind-body structure each person possesses, which requires a tailored approach and a customized pranava that is explicitly designed for them.

Some researchers, such as Benston (1975, 1984), attempted to demonstrate that the specific “tool” for meditation, which he referred to as a mantra, is not crucial. To test this, they allowed participants to select meaningless syllables as their mantras randomly. The meditation did produce a relaxation response, showing favorable effects. However, these effects were only temporary, as participants did not continue the practice once the research concluded. This raises the question of whether using any word or sound could yield long-term beneficial effects.

Western civilization largely lacks an understanding of how sounds impact people, whereas Eastern traditions, such as those in India, boast—or claim to have—an extensive and profound comprehension of the human voice and its effects on our minds. This knowledge likely includes insights into the link between the meaning of words and their “shape” or vibration. I believe that selecting the right pranava is vital, perhaps even crucial, for successful meditation. So, how is this applied in the case of IM?

The first principle is broad yet crucial. It aligns perfectly with our central theme of synchronicity: the universe reflects itself. Every part of the universe, even the smallest, contains information about everything, much like a hologram.

The second principle suggests there is a single origin for everything that exists. This idea can sound philosophical (if you refer to the source as ‘Being’) or religious (if you call it ‘God’). Still, it also aligns with modern scientific pursuits, such as the search for a unified field theory.

When you combine these two principles, you realize that the origin of everything is present everywhere. It must also be within us.

The third principle states that every mutable form in the universe originates as a kind of vibration from a single source—similar to a vibrating string or ocean waves. The forms that appear are essentially vibrations or waves, and the entity that vibrates is the foundation of all existence.

Modern physics reveals that what we call “particles” at the subatomic level are actually energy fields vibrating at specific frequencies. This principle extends upward: atoms vibrate, the molecules they form vibrate, and ultimately, everything we perceive as solid matter is fundamentally vibrational in nature. This applies universally—to rocks, trees, animals, and yes, to human beings. The seemingly solid world around us is more accurately described as a complex symphony of mathematical patterns and harmonious resonances interacting in precise ways.

In this perspective, you and I exist as unique vibrational signatures within the cosmic orchestra—distinctive patterns in the grand mathematical equation we call existence.*

(Important note: When I teach Integral Meditation, I utilize an enormous variety of sound combinations, known as pranavas: 8.1 x 10^23 in total! That’s 8.1 followed by twenty-three zeros. To put this into perspective, there are currently about 7 x 10^9 people living on Earth. The total number of potential pranavas is millions of times greater. This highlights the profound level of personal customization involved in teaching IM.)

Before your thoughts wander too far into unfamiliar territory, let’s refocus on our main topic: meditation. You likely recall that meditation is described as “the process of reducing mental activity” or “quieting the mind.” We understand that we are essentially vibrations. Reducing this activity equates to quieting that vibration—your mental vibration, or more accurately, a vibration that represents you.

To achieve effective meditation, start with the vibration that truly represents you. This vibration serves as the ideal catalyst for calming the mind. Reflecting on what we’ve discussed about pranava, it’s clear that pranava is a sound, a vibration that embodies who we are, making it ideally suited for meditation.

Consider this: if you could hear every sound, every vibration of each atom in your body, alongside all the electric impulses traveling through your nerves, you would hear your pranava—the form, the sound, the word without meaning that is most fitting for effective meditation.

Most individuals cannot perceive their own vibrational signature without specialized training. A meditation teacher serves as both interpreter and guide—someone who can discern your unique resonance pattern through direct perception or analytical methods. Just as a physician uses instruments to detect what the body cannot self-diagnose, a qualified meditation instructor reveals the precise pranava that harmonizes with your essential nature.

The reasons for learning meditation from a qualified teacher are both practical and profound. A teacher provides concise, methodical instruction tailored to modern life while maintaining the technique’s ancient integrity. Psychologically, the presence of an experienced guide creates a motivational container—the subtle encouragement that comes from witnessing others transform alongside you. Most crucially, a teacher’s trained perception can detect the unique vibrational signature that constitutes your ideal pranava, that perfect sound which resonates with your essential nature. When practiced correctly, meditation doesn’t merely relax—it fundamentally recalibrates your existence, dissolving the restrictive thought patterns that have imprisoned your consciousness. Like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, you transcend mere existence to become both Acceptor of life’s fullness and Co-Creator of your reality.

Do not miss that opportunity.

***

Chapter from the book “Synchronicity – The Wholeness Awakening”.

Read previous chapter: “What is Meditation?”.

The term “meditation” appears frequently in various contexts, yet its meaning can be elusive. Many meditation practices aim to induce particular mental states rather than accessing the fundamental emptiness of content-free awareness. Achieving this state of pure consciousness—where awareness exists by itself in complete stillness—demands a distinct methodology.

Meditation IS NOT:

…concentration, which involves focusing your attention on a specific object or activity.

…contemplation, where you deliberately ponder ideas or concepts.

…visualization, which requires you to create and manipulate mental images.

…suggestion, where you attempt to influence your physical or mental state through directed thoughts.

If you’ve engaged in any of the activities mentioned earlier and labeled them as meditation, you were actually misusing the term. True meditation is distinctively defined as the gradual quieting of mental processes, ultimately leading to the experience of pure consciousness, with no activity other than self-awareness.

Achieving this state of pure consciousness and the liberating experience of timelessness cannot be done through concentration, contemplation, visualization, or suggestion. These methods involve activity, while meditation is about silencing and stopping all activity.

Here is a crucial understanding of meditation: asking how to do it is misguided if it involves stopping activity! Meditation isn’t something you actively perform; it’s about stopping all actions. While it may seem straightforward, halting activity is indeed the easiest thing imaginable. No special skills, knowledge, or conditions are required—just cease what you’re currently doing, and that’s all. Honestly, this is nearly all that needs to be conveyed! If you can sit quietly and gradually let go of all actions, this process of calming down, or stopping activity, is what we call meditation.

The state that remains after complete mental stillness has countless labels across traditions. Some traditions name it the Self, others the absence of self. Some describe it as fullness, others as emptiness. Some reference yoga, others the divine presence. The label you choose holds little significance—once you’ve reached this state of pure awareness, words fall away. Through this clarification, we’ve lifted one layer of confusion surrounding meditation: at its core, meditation is simply the quieting of mental activity.

Perhaps you’re thinking: “Perfect! Meditation simply means sitting quietly and doing nothing.”

I invite you to experiment with this right now.

Find a comfortable position, close your eyes, and attempt to do absolutely nothing.

What’s happening in your mind? Are you truly able to cease all activity?

Most likely, while your body remains still, your thoughts continue their relentless parade—memories surfacing, plans forming, worries circling, each thought triggering the next in an endless chain that seems impossible to break.

If your mind remains busy despite your attempt to quiet it, you’re not alone. Countless seekers have encountered this paradox: the seemingly simple act of doing nothing proves surprisingly difficult. Logically, ceasing all activity should require no effort—after all, what could be easier than not doing something? Yet when we attempt this with our minds, we discover a curious resistance, as if the mind has its own momentum that defies our intention to still it.

Consider it like this: meditation is an innate process that your mind can perform effortlessly. However, like many inherent processes, it needs nurturing. Simply put, even the most instinctive skills require development and learning. Take walking, for example—it’s natural, yet if animals raised you, never observed adults walking, and were never prompted to walk, you wouldn’t naturally do it. You would need to undergo rehabilitation (or habilitation) to train for this natural skill you missed learning at the appropriate time.

Most of us were raised in environments where meditation was entirely absent. As children, we never heard the word mentioned, never witnessed anyone practicing it, and never received guidance on how to achieve mental stillness. Instead, our upbringing celebrated constant mental engagement. Our developing minds were crammed with facts, figures, and endless information. We learned that success demanded intellectual effort—studying, analyzing, memorizing, planning. From our earliest years through adulthood, every influence in our lives reinforced this need for perpetual mental activity. True cessation of thought—not merely shifting attention to entertainment or leisure, but genuine mental quietude—was never presented as an option, let alone a valuable skill.

Is it any wonder, then, that your mind resists stillness? Do those thoughts continue to swirl like leaves in an autumn gale when you attempt to quiet them? This isn’t a personal failing—it’s the expected outcome of a lifetime spent cultivating mental activity.

Yet here’s the encouraging truth: by finding this book, you’ve discovered what meditation truly is—the gentle quieting of mental processes. Even if you haven’t yet experienced the profound stillness of pure awareness, take heart. This natural human capacity remains intact within you, merely waiting to be awakened. Like any dormant skill, meditation can be developed with proper guidance.

***

Chapter from the book “Synchronicity – The Wholeness Awakening”.

Read previous chapter: “The Origin of Meditation”.

Read next chapter: “Integral meditation”

Indigenous spiritual leaders worldwide—from shamans to medicine men—have long practiced what we now recognize as meditation. These practices were invariably woven into their religious ceremonies and cultural rituals, which explains why meditation often carries associations with mystical experiences and seemingly exotic perspectives.

Yet meditation extends far beyond Eastern philosophies and indigenous practices. Throughout Christian history, contemplative traditions have flourished. Saint Augustine himself described how, through meditation, he “transcends even the power of memory in himself; passes around it so he can approach… the light of God.”

Revered Christian mystics such as St. Francis of Assisi and Hildegard von Bingen urged their followers to complement prayer with inward contemplation—what we now recognize as meditation. Christian meditative practices have a rich documented history, exemplified by the anonymous 14th-century text “The Cloud of Unknowing,” which guides practitioners toward experiencing the “unknowing” state where one encounters the divine beyond conceptual understanding. This tradition extends back even further: the Desert Fathers, among Christianity’s earliest monastic communities, sought purification through states where “non-existence and non-thinking purifies the soul.” In the fifth century, Hesychius advocated his “prayer of the heart” as a pathway to “reliable knowledge about God Almighty.” These ancient practices found renewed expression in modern Christianity when Father Basil Pennington reintroduced them as “Centering Prayer” in 1982, sparking meditation groups across numerous Christian denominations today.

When we consider the growing interest in meditation and other personal development practices, it’s clear that this is not a trend to be sidelined in our culture. Nowadays, meditation is firmly embedded in people’s lives. What’s new, however, is that in recent decades, individuals have been “discovering” meditation through mass media.

Today, meditation permeates our world in countless forms. In a single city, a Buddhist monk sits cross-legged on a worn cushion, seeking pure awareness beyond thought, while across town, a bank executive closes her office door and sets a timer for fifteen minutes, desperate to quiet the day’s chaos. In a sunlit studio apartment, the executive’s wife, a painter, meditates to access creative flow, while their son, hunched over law textbooks in his dorm room, practices mindfulness to improve his focus. Though they all engage in what appears to be the same practice, their intentions create entirely different experiences. The monk seeks enlightenment, the executive seeks relief, the artist seeks inspiration, and the student seeks concentration—same techniques, perhaps, but vastly different intentions.

The key distinction between modern and traditional views of meditation lies in the motivation behind its practice. Originally, meditation techniques emerged within spiritual and religious contexts. In the past, people used meditation to draw closer to God, and many continue to do so today. However, modern society, including the scientific community, approaches meditation from another perspective. If proper meditation results in a calm mind, then it’s precisely what we need! Our lives are filled with stress, tension, worries, and problems. Isn’t inner peace the remedy for such a state? Indeed, it is. So, how can we attain inner peace? The answer might be: meditation.

Once exclusively a religious practice, meditation has transformed into a modern stress-management tool—a shift that traditionalists often resisted. Eastern meditation teachers frequently clashed with orthodox authorities from their native traditions, accused of commodifying sacred knowledge. Osho Rajneesh, though rejected by many Indians, found a devoted Western following. Similarly, Maharishi Mahesh Yogi built a substantial Western organization around Transcendental Meditation while facing skepticism from traditional practitioners—though they readily accepted his financial contributions to their institutions.

Beyond questions of financial impropriety, these teachers’ true “transgression” was distilling practical techniques from their cultural and religious contexts, making them accessible to outsiders. While traditionalists mourned this extraction, humanity benefited immensely. Eastern and indigenous cultures developed profound insights into human consciousness that complement Western civilization’s outward focus. Just as science uncovered natural laws that serve everyone regardless of belief, these spiritual traditions revealed principles of consciousness equally valuable to the faithful and secular alike.

The acceptance of meditation wasn’t the first instance of one culture valuing another’s practices. During the Middle Ages, amidst the plague, some physicians like Paracelsus and Nostradamus advised people to maintain personal hygiene, recommending handwashing before meals and bathing at least once a week. This approach to hygiene was revolutionary at the time, as cleanliness was largely unfamiliar in the Western world. Conversely, Eastern cultures had long incorporated practices like religious bathing. Paracelsus, Nostradamus, and others never aimed to alter Christian traditions or introduce Eastern religious practices, yet they faced accusations of precisely that. The Church persecuted them for their hygiene recommendations, labeling them heretical.

This historical resistance stemmed from a fundamental misunderstanding about what constitutes religious practice versus practical human behavior. While bathing might occur within religious ceremonies, cleanliness itself isn’t inherently religious. Modern readers would find it absurd to reject personal hygiene merely because Eastern cultures embraced it earlier. We intuitively recognize that washing one’s hands before dinner carries no theological implications.

Yet meditation faces similar resistance today. Though developed extensively within Eastern spiritual traditions, many Westerners still avoid this valuable practice due to unfounded fears that meditation necessarily imports foreign religious beliefs—as if quieting one’s mind somehow requires adopting an entire philosophical system.

Recent decades have decisively settled this question. Meditation has emerged as a universal tool for relaxation and stress reduction, divorced mainly from religious contexts. Religious practitioners indeed incorporate meditation into their spiritual lives, but they, too, recognize its practical benefits. The devout Catholic executive, the orthodox Jewish teacher, and the secular scientist all share a common vulnerability to modern stress—and increasingly, they share this common remedy.

***

Chapter from the book “Synchronicity – The Wholeness Awakening”.

Read previous chapter: “The Liberating Experience of Timelessness”.

Read next chapter: “What is meditation?”

When we see ourselves as victims or attempt to manage our problems through control, it’s because we view the world as a threat. This perception creates a sense of isolation, making us feel lonely, insignificant, and disconnected. Every anxious person experiences this sense of separation from the world. The dominant emotion in this situation is fear. We don’t understand “the other,” the world beyond ourselves. What we don’t understand feels threatening; its nature seems unpredictable, and its rules often appear illogical to us. Our response to this situation is either a sense of helplessness or a futile attempt to control “the other.” Seeing ourselves as separate from the world and experiencing this duality are key contributors to lower behavioral patterns. But is our perception accurate? Does it truly reflect reality?

The well-known quote from Thomas Aquinas states: “Quidquid recipitur, ad modum recipientis recipitur.” Translated, this means: “Whatever is received is received according to the mode of the receiver.” Our perception shapes how we see the world. If it appears divided between ourselves and the external, perhaps that division originates within us. The receiver’s perspective, regardless of reality’s true nature, shapes their own reality. This concept is also found in ancient Vedic texts. The Rg Veda (1:164:39) conveys: “richo akshare parame vyoman,” which can be freely translated as: “Knowledge varies according to different states of consciousness.”

What exactly constitutes this “mode of the receiver”? What state of consciousness creates the illusion of separation between self and world—a division that breeds fear and perceived threat?

To understand this, consider the three elements required for any cognitive experience: a perceiving subject, a perceived object, and the process of perception itself that connects them. These three components form the foundation of how we experience reality.

I am (the subject) experiencing (the process) the world (the object). These three components are present in every act of perceiving or experiencing.

In essence, both Thomas Aquinas and the ancient Vedic texts point to the same truth: our consciousness filters reality through its own unique lens. But what exactly are these filters that shape how we perceive the world around us?

We’re not concerned with how perception happens, but rather what the perceiver takes away from what is perceived. Consider a flower: one person might see its color, another might inhale its fragrance, while a third might feel its petals. These different approaches all generate unique experiences within the perceiver—what we might call knowledge. But when we talk about receiving “according to the mode of the receiver,” we’re pointing to something deeper. Even when two people use the same sense—say, both smelling the same rose—they create entirely different internal experiences. This diversity of interpretation, not the diversity of senses, is what truly matters.

At the heart of focus is the receiver, the individual experiencing the sensation. When two people smell a rose, each will form a unique experience and understanding. One person might find joy in the scent, while another might be moved to tears, reminded of a sorrowful memory. This is where, at the receiver’s level, lies the reason some individuals see the world as threatening and tailor their responses accordingly.

What makes us see the world as something that threatens our very being?

This goes deeper than the surface-level variations in perception caused by our individual histories. Whether you experienced childhood trauma or lived through devastating events matters less than you might think. What’s crucial is understanding the fundamental mechanism at work within our consciousness itself—a mechanism almost no one escapes. The process is straightforward yet profound: when we perceive anything, that perceived object temporarily “overlays” our pure awareness. The object doesn’t merely interact with our consciousness—it masks it, pressing its imprint onto the clean slate of our being.

Still struggling with this concept? Consider this: have you ever directly experienced your own consciousness, without any objects to perceive? Most people find this question perplexing. “Experience pure consciousness? That sounds paradoxical,” they might say. Yet it’s not only possible—it’s remarkably accessible. The subject (which is nothing but consciousness itself) can indeed be experienced directly. The tragedy is that most people remain unaware of both this possibility and the straightforward method to achieve it.

It shouldn’t happen this way, especially for those who are leaving or for those considering stepping down. The process of creating a sense of timelessness is crucial and cannot be ignored. Pure consciousness, free from any shadows, naturally provides a timeless experience because it lacks the boundaries imposed by objects. When consciousness contains anything other than itself, it becomes restricted by that content. It connects to something, an object or an experience, which is bound by time and defined by certain characteristics. This is true for any typical experience. Look around, and your senses fill your consciousness with information. Think about something, and your consciousness is again occupied, this time with content from your memory or newly created thoughts. Inevitably, you must position this content within the constructs of time and space.

Now imagine there is no content, but the consciousness stays awake. Like a vast, pristine mountain lake at dawn—perfectly still, reflecting nothing but clear sky, yet vibrantly alive with potential. No ripples of thought disturbing its surface, no images captured in its depths, just pure, luminous awareness extending in all directions. Neither sleeping nor dreaming, but alert and receptive. Can you imagine this boundless clarity that is both empty and completely full?

In theory, it’s possible, but the key lies in actually experiencing such a state. This is essential to complete your preparation for communicating with the Wholeness via synchronicity. Naturally, the freeing sensation of timelessness brings numerous other advantages. The most wonderful aspect is how effortlessly you can enter this state.

The timeless experience can be achieved through the proper practice of silent meditation. While the term “meditation” is widely recognized, few truly understand it. Many people have varying misconceptions about meditation, making it essential to focus on a genuine understanding of what it truly entails. I will outline some key aspects of this process. Although true meditation is best learned through personal interaction (and I will explain why), without grasping the process and having the experience necessary to achieve it, it’s impossible to truly alter the feeling of threat from a hostile universe. You can adjust your mindset or attempt to change the beliefs that govern your life, but only when you realize that absolutely nothing endangers the consciousness that defines you will you be genuinely open, allowing a connection with Wholeness through synchronicity to be possible.

***

Chapter from the book “Synchronicity – The Wholeness Awakening”.

Also read the following chapter: “The East and the West: The Origin of Meditation”

Obviously, this Club is not performance-orientated, at least not in the sense people usually approach sports. We are on the search for the experience of “the zone” or “the flow” while moving and exercising.

To achieve that goal, the usual principles of good exercising, healthy living, and fitness will apply only partially and up to certain levels. With time we’ll point out the differences, but for a start, we are in accordance with what is obvious: you have to exercise!

In this series of articles, I intend to follow the advancement of End7ess SoulSport Club with some instructions and goal settings for the whole group.

Let’s start with the statistics Strava provides in the form of a weekly Leaderboard. Here are the first three places for a second week (20 members at the moment.

Congratulations on the top achievements!

Let’s learn from the statistics and set up the goal for everyone in the group.

Distance statistics are of no particular value because cyclists will easily gain the distance numbers, while those who exercise statically travel no distance at all. I would like to see another kind of statistic here, for example, how many vigorous minutes per week, or even better applied power while staying in the second heart rate zone. For now, we’ll have to accept what is given. So, friendly distance competition is just for fun.

However, time spent exercising and the number of activities are quite important for our purpose. Let’s set a goal for each member of the group.

The minimum time spent exercising per day is 30 minutes. Don’t aim for some “serious” sport and wait for “the right time” to do it. Just do it every day, whenever you can. Vigorous walking is fine, some yoga is good, and calisthenics is even better because you can do it anywhere, without special equipment or conditions. Our first goal is to record at least one activity for 30 minutes every day. We can skip one day, and that leaves us with six (6) recorded activities per week.

The second important goal (actually the first according to Strava statistics) is time spent exercising. You have to add one longer exercise per week of a minimum of two hours. That can be a longer bicycle ride, a hike on the local hill, or something else that suits your inclinations. So we have five times 30 minutes, one day rest, and one day 120 minutes per week as our first goal. Altogether it is 4 hours 30 minutes weekly spent exercising.

And here we are: we have a clear goal for each member of the Club: a minimum of four hours and thirty minutes of activity spread over a minimum of six recorded exercises (no shorter than 30 minutes) per week.

So, let’s do it!

Next few weeks we’ll celebrate the success of those who will achieve that goal! Let’s make this a standard before we move on to further additions in our search for the flow!

It is a mess down there, and although it is sometimes lonely up here, I am glad I left the crowdedness of the human condition.

I am still here, trying to explain this view and how to find it. Some even listen. It is not that I care or that my explanation will change anything for the world. But the few might leave, just as I did. Funny enough, after some time, those leavers will stand in the same place, looking back and down on their previous lives, wondering how that was even possible. Were they really a part of this crazy circus, singing their songs as they should, like puppets in someone else’s play?

You believe that many things are an illusion, but you are all right because, whatever happens, you will survive; you are in control, and if sometimes you aren’t, that is just a temporary mistake. You’ll get it right next time; you’ll be victorious, and Life will obey your commands.

But the reality is the opposite of your mirror-like vision of it. Everything is; Life is, and the path is, but you… You are just a leaf in the wind.

Sounds terrible? Sounds pessimistic?
Again, you are wrong: that is the best news you heard in your whole Life. Some time will pass before you understand it entirely, but when you do, you will bow your head, and Life – the real one – will rejoice and celebrate.

Read the 20^th Chapter of the book “Viveka – the Voice of Inner Guru” entitled “Ekam evadvityam: Living without a Center”.

Remember: this article/chapter is tokenized, and you may buy it as a “writer’s NFT!”

Points to consider

The last chapter in the book and the last exercise in this series is about the question of what happens after.

The liberated person, the enlightened one, a sage, whatever we call him, does he perceive differences? If not, how can he, or she, continue to live among us? If he is thirsty, would he not take a glass of water? If yes, how and why? It’s all consciousness; why is there any need to continue with the show of multiple masks slipped on the face of the one?

How does life continue after liberation? Is it any different than before? Do enlightened people see and feel things that others don’t? Do they have any special abilities? Can they fly or visit other planets? Or are they turning into a passive bag of meat, waiting for a body to die out, so their soul can be free from that ultimate burden, too?

There are answers to these questions, and yet, those answers will probably confuse anyone in the usual human condition.

Here is how Vivekachudamani describes how the enlightened live:

“Established in the ethereal space of consciousness, he wanders in the world, sometimes like a madman, sometimes like a child. He may look like a ghost; he might be even drunk, wearing his clothes, or go around naked.

He walks alone, the embodiment of desireless desire, but still enjoys everything, remaining eternally satisfied with the Self that is present in all.

Sometimes, he is a fool. Sometimes, a sage. He might be a king with royal splendor. Sometimes, he wanders around and sometimes is calm and silent, immovable like a python. Sometimes he is respected, sometimes insulted, and sometimes unknown to anyone – such is a life of a liberated one, ever enjoying the supreme bliss.”

Apart from bliss, which is everpresent, anything else is a possibility. There are no rules, and there is no fixed way to live your life after the illusion is gone. It can be literary anything. There is no way to recognize an enlightened one by their words, actions, or behavior. Forget the pictures of sages on the mountain, holy men teaching the scriptures, or ascetics sitting under the tree. Forget any images you have or might have about life after. All are wrong, and all can be right.

Liberation, enlightenment, or moksha means freedom. No more, no less. Unpredictable, unconditional, never-to-know-in-advance freedom. That’s why Vivekachudamany speaks about a madman and a sage, about royalty and a drunkard, a respected one and the one insulted, a celebrity, or a complete unknown.

And to add to that, don’t think you are the one who will choose. The choice will be made, but not by the forgetful ahamakar, you, who believes he is „the other“, something different and separate from wholeness. Ekam evadvityam, remember? The separation is not true, nor will it ever be. So, why does it matter who will choose? The final answer is: consciousness will choose – the one that is.

***

Still, at the end of the book, aware of the curiosity and a need for at least some understanding of what unpredictable freedom means, there are some descriptions and explanations.

• Enlightened hangover: A time (few months up to a few years) immediately following the full understanding of the illusion of the center.
• Identity: gone. A short explanation of how it is possible to function without it.
• Functional reconstruction: Whenever a need for action presents itself, the process of functional reconstruction of the previous personality with all its abilities, memories, likes, and dislikes, will commence.
• Thoughts: Thoughts are present, but there is no more I-ness who would say, „Those thoughts are mine, I am thinking them“.
• Emotions: Present. Stronger. However, there is no particular preference as to which one is welcomed and which is not. Derivate emotions, the ones initiated by interpretation, are gone.
• Global empathy: Since consciousness is one, the suffering caused by illusory separation is felt all around.
• Relationships: The standard obligations of a relationship might be respected, but they can be broken equally often. Freedom in thinking and feeling, non-attachment to emotions, and a capability to feel more, may lead to an entirely new relationship paradigm.
• Physical body: The physical body will have a mind of its own. It will rarely be the subject of common illnesses but can develop some unusual ones.
• Decisions: The liberated one does not make any decisions. If a decision is made, it is made by consciousness, the one and only.
• Plans: Time is a construct of the mind, and consciousness does not operate within it on the level of freedom. But, it does work within the time on the level of actions. Plans are decisions with consequences in time.
• Karma: With the karma factor (I-ness) gone, the consequences of actions can cling to no one.
• Behavior: The free flow of thoughts, and especially non-interference with the process of making decisions, can initiate entirely out-of-ordinary actions (crazy wisdom).

***

Ekam evadvityam – a life without a center. That is the promise of viveka, and fortunately, that is your destiny. I tried to describe it to you, but it is clear: you’ll never know until you live it. Don’t fall for a description. Go for it. Live it yourself, as soon as you can.

Questions for thinking

This is the end of the “Viveka talks” exercises. I hope you had a lot of food for thoughts going through them.

I also hope that I did/will answer all your questions. Nevertheless, here is one more chance to ask them.

It is your turn now. Write your thoughts, comments, or questions.

Read the 19^th Chapter of the book “Viveka – the Voice of Inner Guru” entitled “Dealing with fear”.

Remember: this article/chapter is tokenized, and you may buy it as a “writer’s NFT!”

Points to consider

Since you want reality, not a story about it, you have no other choice than to do something and check it for yourself. That is, if your mumukshuta, a desire for liberation, is strong enough.

But what if it isn’t? What if you have doubts, maybe even fears of losing the life you have?

Maya promises many wonders and delivers them, at least temporarily. The problem is that she dies out with time, and when that happens, everything that she gave you disappears with her. That will happen to you, too. That is happening to you, over and over again. But, every time it happens, you crawl back to Maya and do everything you can to gather yourself together and start serving her again.

So, it is quite natural to ask yourself what will happen to your life when (or if) Maya leaves.

Fear is not a problem. There is nobody out there, in the past, present, or future, who tried to sever the connection with Maya and bring her realm down without being afraid. So, it is entirely understandable and reasonable if you feel that way. I would not take you seriously if you claim you are not afraid to part with the illusion in your life.

However, I recommend that you face the fear BEFORE it consumes you entirely.

Spontaneous deconstruction of an illusion is a beach. It can ruin your life so profoundly that you would need another body to recover and start again. Hopelessness, depression, mental disorders, and all kinds of weaknesses of the body and the mind are quite possible. But, those experiences are not consequences of the deconstruction of the illusion; they are consequences of fighting against it due to fear.

That’s why you’ll do well if you follow your mumukshuta, even if it is not so overwhelming to make you give up everything in your life. Despite possible fear, deliberate and voluntary facing the illusion is the prevention of future hardships that are surely waiting for you around the corner.

However, you should be aware of one special feature of the fear ignited by the mumukshuta. Basically, all our previous fears were created by the threat of forces that hold the center of power. If we were fighting, the goal of the fight was to come nearer to the center or take it by ourselves. The whole drama of life is based on such a centralized structure of reality. It’s all about who is up (in the center) and who is down (far from it). If you are down, the solution is obvious – you have to climb up; you have to take control. Don’t be pussy; fight for yourself, claim your power, do your thing, make yourself strong, and rule over our universe.

But now, everything has changed. The fear and the fight you’ll experience are entirely different from anything you did before.

The insight of a decentralized reality changes everything you know about yourself. Until now, you have been the center of everything. All experiences are orbiting around you; they were yours. Now, you suddenly understand that „yours“ is an illusion, and there is nothing to cling on anymore.

The loss of control and identity is the root of existential fear during the deconstruction of an illusion.

Bear in mind that fear is not a problem. The problem is what we do to avoid it. So, don’t even try to do that. Face it. Go through it. You are not the first, nor the last, who is going through the same process of disillusionment. Fear will do you no harm, but avoiding it, running away, and all the things you do while trying to make it disappear might.

Think more about the fact that it is an illusion you are losing. The control you thought you had – it was not there. The identity you thought you had – well, just a mirage. The true reality is not changing just because your false reality is now crumbling into ashes. You never had that what you think you are losing now. So, what’s there to worry about?

***

The last part of the chapter, “Dealing with fear” speaks about what you’ll lose and gain with the deconstruction of the illusion.

You’ll not lose a capability for ordinary happiness (it will come and go as always), but you’ll gain access to ananda – inner bliss independent of outer circumstances.

You’ll not lose a capability for being successful (as until now, success will sometimes come), but you’ll gain access to punja – fulfillment in activity and perception of indicated activities.

You’ll not lose a capability for emotional relationships (they will stay more or less the same),  but you’ll gain access to prema – individualized but unconditional love.

Ananda, punya, and prema – not so bad, isn’t it?

And now, if you still remember the fear, don’t be a fool and a pussy. Fear will pass.

The bliss is forever.

Questions for thinking

You have read most of the Viveka book now. You should understand clearly that your life is probably 99% an illusion. Also, you must feel some level of mumukšuta; otherwise, you would not read until this point.

What about fear? Do you feel it? What is it that you fear the most?

When you think about severing the connection with Maya in your life, what are your doubts? Can you think about why not do it; why wait a little and give yourself some more time?

It is your turn now. Write your thoughts, comments, or questions.