Kriya Yoga: Synthesis Of A Personal Experience Today

The synthesis happened in the stillness that followed the breath. Usually, my mind is a frantic librarian, constantly filing away anxieties or pulling out old regrets. In that gap of "breathless" silence, the librarian simply sat down and went to sleep.

As the breath moved, I stopped feeling my ribs and lungs. Instead, there was a sensation of cool silver light tracing the interior of my spine. It wasn't an "out-of-body" experience—it was the first time I felt truly in it. The boundary between the air in the room and the air in my lungs dissolved. Kriya Yoga: Synthesis of a Personal Experience

But a synthesis isn’t just a collection of parts; it’s the moment they fuse into something new. The synthesis happened in the stillness that followed

I remember sitting on my worn meditation cushion, the city traffic humming a dull gray rhythm outside my window. I began the Pranayama , drawing the breath up the spine. For the first thousand times I’d done this, it felt like pulling a heavy rope through sand. But that afternoon, the friction vanished. As the breath moved, I stopped feeling my ribs and lungs

The technique was the spark, but the experience was the fire.