a bit of a reset.
i’m on a new journey, and this account is part of it.
this account has existed through many versions of me. from here, i want it to reflect more of what i actually love, what i’m learning, and how i see the world.
within māyā.
trying to understand kāla without fearing it, karma without surrendering to fatalism, ambition without becoming possessed by it, and love without mistaking it for permanence.
notes on jyotiṣa, dharma, philosophy & the strange experience of being alive.
@suryaschariot Going through an 8th house antardasha right now and honestly the best remedy has been to embrace the chaos and learn from it.
Sometimes you have to truly feel the pain and let it deliver much needed lessons you might be avoiding otherwise.
@shreemastrology exalted Venus explains him, I need to know where her Jupiter is bc 18 years in and still speaking about your husband with that much gratitude has to show somewhere in the chart
So what exactly persists?
I don’t have an answer.
But perhaps “Who am I?” becomes interesting only after every biographical answer stops satisfying you.
A thought that has been bothering me:
How much of what I call “my personality” did I actually choose?
My ambitions were shaped by what I learned to admire.
My insecurities by what I learned was inadequate.
My desires by what I learned was desirable.
So where exactly am “I” in all of this?
But stories require memory.
And memory is frighteningly unstable.
Forget enough of your past and your personality changes.
Change enough of your beliefs and the person you once were becomes almost incomprehensible to you.
Yet through every version there remains the experience:
“I am.”
"Just as a pure crystal assumes the color of whatever object is placed before it, so the mind, when cleared of thought-waves, achieves sameness and absorption with the object of its concentration."
— Patanjali (Yoga Sutras, 1.41)
There is a strange, almost metaphysical violence in witnessing life continue after the future you once carried has quietly died within you.
The sun still rises. People still go to work. Your phone still vibrates with its indifferent insistence. Hunger returns with its ancient regularity.
The machinery of prakṛti keeps turning, untroubled, as though nothing has shifted as though an entire inner sky has not collapsed into a wordless, weightless silence.
The cosmos offers no acknowledgment. There is no tremor, no pause. What has fallen was never the world itself, but a private cosmos you had woven over it stitched from desire, expectation, and the illusion of continuity.
And so begins the first, unromantic teaching of vairāgya:
what you mourned was never reality, but your attachment to a borrowed image of it.
The world, in its unbroken becoming, was never bound to the shape your mind had briefly mistaken for it.
@suryaschariot 100% agree, i used to absolutely dread presentations.
a teacher taught me to act confident before i felt confident.
eventually my mind caught up. we condition ourselves into fear all the time I learned that day courage isn’t exempt from the same principle