Part One: The Collapse of the Nervous System
You must be wondering—what was this?
Not just epilepsy, but also episodes of neurodegenerative problems and brain disorders: Alzheimer’s, dementia, schizophrenia, multiple sclerosis, and many more. Alongside these conditions came constant nervous sensitivity, an inability to ground oneself, and the collapse of life’s basic stability.
This was the suffering of one of my clients, William, from Florida, USA. He is forty-seven years old now, and for two decades he wandered in search of spiritual awakening through every path available. In that search, he consumed different psychedelics: weed, synthetic substances, mushrooms, and other medicines. He experimented with them as if they were keys to higher states of consciousness. Yet instead of liberation, they left behind silent destruction. His nervous system and brain began to collapse under their weight.
When William came to me, his state was one of tragedy. He was alive in body but dead in function. His brain was not working like a living man’s brain, but like that of someone in a coma. He could not ground himself to the earth. He could not sit still even for a few seconds. His body shook and shivered constantly, like an electrical current had taken permanent residence inside him.
If he touched a piece of metal, he felt a shock. Any surface of steel or iron would jolt him, as though his own body had lost the ability to distinguish between living tissue and conducting wire. This meant he could not live normally in his own house. Every object became a reminder of his broken state.
He lived with sensations of shivering, levitation, derealization, and depersonalization. These were not mystical samadhis or awakenings but torments, ungrounded states of collapse. He suffered at the highest degree, beyond what he had imagined was possible for a human life. He told me often, “I never thought I would be reduced to this—a living dead man.”
At forty-seven, this burden became unbearable. Imagine the condition of a man in the prime of life, fully grown, yet dependent on his parents for everything. For five years he had been unable to walk. His body grew obese day by day, trapped in immobility. His nervous system was broken, his brain functions dismantled. His last resort was me.
When he arrived, his condition was like a warning written on the body itself: “Do not play with the nervous system.” Yet he had no choice but to hope that I could pull him back from the edge.
At that point, William had suffered every form of collapse that comes from damaging the nervous system through misused Kundalini awakening and uncontrolled psychedelic use. He had become an example of how the spiritual search, if misdirected, can become self-destruction. But his story also became an example of how the Energetic Mastery Method, applied correctly, can restore life from even the most hopeless conditions.
Before we go into the techniques, you must remember one thing: the brain and nervous system are the most delicate instruments of existence. They are the head office of your life. When they are damaged, no guarantee can be given. But relief and recovery are possible when you realign yourself with the original design of nature.
In William’s case, I guided him step by step with methods of breath, grounding, movement, and natural reconnection. He practiced diligently, and slowly he began to feel himself again. What I share now are the exact processes he used. If you are suffering with similar nervous system problems—whether from Kundalini awakening, psychedelic overload, or neurological disorders—you too can learn from these steps.
However, let me repeat: do not experiment recklessly. Follow these teachings with reverence, with care, and preferably under guidance. The techniques I will explain may sound simple, but they penetrate deep into your energy body and nervous system.
The first step was to diagnose his condition through breath. The breath is the mirror of the nervous system. In William’s case, his sympathetic nervous system—the system of fight, flight, stress, and survival—was locked in a permanent state of overdrive. The parasympathetic nervous system—the system of rest, digestion, healing—was almost absent. This imbalance alone was enough to explain his symptoms: memory loss, hallucinations, extreme mood swings, schizophrenia-like states, even Alzheimer’s patterns of forgetting.
So I asked him to check his nostrils. You can do this as well:
- Sit quietly in any position.
- Close your eyes and become aware of your breathing.
- Place two fingers under your nostrils.
- Inhale and exhale normally, and notice which side has stronger airflow.
Do this test several times a day. You will notice that in a healthy body, the dominance of breath shifts between nostrils every hour or two. But in William’s case, the right nostril was always dominant. His left side was completely blocked. This showed that the sympathetic system was hyper-activated and never switching off. This constant overdrive was burning out his brain, frying his nerves, and breaking his body.
The challenge was to shift him from this extreme sympathetic state into parasympathetic calm. In yogic terms, his Kundalini was trapped in Pingala nadi (the right, solar channel), with no balance from Ida (the left, lunar channel). It had not risen through Sushumna nadi, the central channel where true awakening flows. This was why his energy felt chaotic instead of divine.
This was where the techniques began.
Part Two: Breath and Grounding — Returning to Instinct
Once William had learned to check his breath and discovered the dominance of his sympathetic nervous system, the next step was grounding. Grounding means returning the energy to the body, to the earth, to stability. A nervous system that is overstimulated cannot hold energy properly. It leaks energy in every direction. The first work was to teach him how to hold himself together again.
I asked William to stop sitting on couches, chairs, or beds that were artificial. Soft furniture gives comfort, but it disconnects you from the ground. For someone whose nervous system is hyperactive, this comfort becomes poison. He needed the floor beneath him, the earth’s pull, the weight of gravity. So I guided him to always sit on the ground. If he had a woolen carpet, it was even better, for wool grounds energy and reduces electrical disturbances in the body.
From here, we began with Malasana, the yogic squat. In this pose, the knees are bent fully, the hips lowered close to the ground, and the entire body resembles the instinctive posture of our earliest ancestors. It is a pose of natural grounding. I asked him to sit this way several times a day. It was difficult for him in the beginning, because his obesity and stiffness resisted. Yet slowly, his body adapted.
But Malasana alone was not enough. His reptilian brain—the most ancient part of the nervous system that controls instinct, balance, survival—had gone into dysfunction. To awaken it again, I guided him into crawling. Yes, crawling like a child on the floor.
He resisted at first. He felt humiliated. He said, “How can a man of forty-seven crawl like a baby?” But this is exactly the problem: we forget that the body must sometimes return to its original language. Crawling reactivates deep neural pathways. It re-establishes coordination between the brain hemispheres. It restores the primal rhythm of movement.
William began crawling on the floor each day. Slowly, slowly, his nervous system responded. His shivering lessened. His scattered movements became more organized. His brain began to communicate with his body again.
After some days, I introduced the next activity—mopping the floor with his whole body. For this, he placed himself on all fours, extended his arms forward, and began moving as if cleaning the floor with his chest and belly. His hips and pelvis moved in rhythm, his arms extended, and his entire torso pressed against the ground. All the while, he exhaled through the mouth.
This was not just physical exercise. It was instinctive therapy. The act of pressing the body against the floor, of moving in rhythm with exhalation, awakened the reptilian brain and integrated his nervous pathways. His spine, which had been rigid and unstable, began to align naturally. His posture corrected itself. His body, which had been a bundle of scattered impulses, became an integrated field.
He did this for one hour each day. Thirty days later, he himself reported: “I can feel my body as one again. I am not broken pieces anymore.”
Alongside crawling and mopping, I gave him the second pillar of practice: continuous mouth exhalation. Whenever he walked, sat, cleaned, or even moved from one room to another, he exhaled through his mouth. Why? Because the mouth releases energy quickly. It expels the excess fire of sympathetic dominance. Every out-breath became a release of tension, a discharge of electrical storms from the nervous system.
This was combined with Malasana ten times a day, each session lasting ten minutes. Sitting low to the ground, exhaling through the mouth, and pressing the body into the earth became a daily ritual. He began to feel negative energies flowing out through his base.
I, too, practice this often. Even today, when I feel my energy field is too heavy or overcharged, I sit in Malasana and exhale through the mouth. It is simple, yet it is one of the most powerful ways to ground.
To strengthen the grounding even more, I guided William to surround himself with wool. He slept on a woolen blanket, wore a woolen cap to cover his head, and pulled woolen socks over his feet. Wool has a subtle property: it absorbs electromagnetic charge and stabilizes it. For someone with nervous sensitivity, wool becomes a medicine. It keeps the energy close to the body without letting it scatter.
At night, instead of sleeping under artificial lights, William switched them off completely. He remained in natural light by day, and by night he lit an earthen lamp—a diya. For ten minutes, he would gaze into its flame. This simple act connected him to the fire element. It strengthened his focus, calmed his senses, and gave him the natural light of consciousness. Artificial light overstimulates the nervous system; firelight heals it.
I also instructed him to connect with flowers daily. He picked fresh flowers, touched their petals, smelled their fragrance, absorbed their colors. By engaging his five senses with a natural object, his broken sensory pathways began to heal. Touch, smell, vision—all became reconnected with the living essence of life.
Slowly, William discovered that life was not in psychedelics or artificial stimulation, but in the simple acts of crawling, exhaling, sitting close to the ground, gazing at fire, and touching flowers. He was beginning to return to instinct, to his original design.
These were not small exercises. They were deep medicines for a broken nervous system.
Part Three: Navel Breathing and Entering the Flow
After William practiced crawling, mopping, Malasana, mouth exhalation, and grounding with wool and fire, his nervous system had stabilized to some extent. He could sit longer, his shaking had reduced, and his body was beginning to act as a whole. But still, the deepest healing was incomplete. His brain centers were exhausted. His nerves, though calmer, still carried scars from years of overstimulation. What he needed next was regeneration at the root level of breath.
This is where I introduced him to navel breathing.
Navel breathing is simple in appearance, but it is one of the most powerful methods to rejuvenate the nervous system. In it, we do not focus on the lungs or chest but on the navel itself. The navel is the center of prana, the hub where life force first entered your body when you were in your mother’s womb. To return breath there is to return life to its origin.
Here is how I instructed William:
- Posture: Sit or lie down comfortably. If sitting, sit on the floor, not on a chair. If lying, place a woolen blanket under your body.
- Hands: Place both palms gently on the navel, one on top of the other.
- Inhalation: Inhale slowly through the nose, allowing the belly to rise and inflate. Do not lift the chest. The expansion must be in the abdomen.
- Exhalation: Exhale slowly, allowing the belly to fall back inward. Release all tension with the out-breath.
- Repetition: Continue this cycle for thirty minutes, four to five times a day.
At first, William could do only five minutes. His nerves trembled. His mind wandered. But with daily practice, he extended it to half an hour. He reached four sessions daily, sometimes more. In each session, he completed 400–500 breaths.
This process was not about filling lungs with air but about flooding the nervous system with prana, the life energy that resides at the navel. Every inhalation gave strength to the nerves. Every exhalation grounded fear, tension, and chaos.
But I did not stop there. I deepened his practice by protecting his senses during navel breathing. Oversensitivity had been his curse. To calm it, I gave him specific instructions:
- For hearing: use earplugs. This removed external noise and gave silence to the auditory nerves.
- For sight: cover the eyes with a cotton cloth. Cotton absorbs excess charge and creates gentle darkness.
- For touch: wear woolen socks to stabilize electrical discharges in the body.
- For environment: practice in isolation, away from people, in a room without artificial lights or gadgets.
This way, William’s breath could work directly on his nervous system without constant external interference.
I also asked him to introduce a pause after the breath. After five to ten rounds of intentional inhalation and exhalation, he would place his full awareness on the navel, then allow the breath to slow and stop naturally for a few seconds. This was not forced holding but a spontaneous stillness. In those pauses, the autonomic nervous system began to rewire itself.
This pause activated his vagus nerve—the great regulator that connects brain to body, calming heart, lungs, digestion, and emotions. Slowly, the balance between sympathetic and parasympathetic systems was restored. His survival brain no longer screamed constantly. His healing brain awakened.
Over weeks of practice, the effects became visible. His brainwaves shifted. At first, he was trapped in beta waves—fast, chaotic, associated with stress and panic. With navel breathing, he began entering alpha waves, where relaxation and focus return. With deeper practice, he touched theta waves, the rhythm of dreams and intuition. Later still, he experienced delta waves, the rhythm of deep healing sleep. And finally, moments of gamma appeared—bursts of integration, clarity, and flow.
One day he said to me, “For the first time in twenty years, I feel silence inside. The noise is gone.”
This was the state I call flow. Flow is not an esoteric condition. It is the natural state when brain and body, breath and energy, are aligned. In flow, life does not feel heavy. The nervous system does not feel like a burden. Energy circulates freely, and the mind functions without effort.
William entered this flow gradually. It was not a sudden miracle. But every day, with crawling, with mopping, with Malasana, with mouth exhalation, with fire-gazing, with wool grounding, with flower-touching, and with navel breathing, he reclaimed a piece of himself. Step by step, the man who had been reduced to a living corpse returned to life.
When he first came to me, he was dependent on his parents, unable to walk, unable to think, unable to function. When he completed the practices under my guidance, he could once again live. He could move with stability. He could sit without shaking. He could engage with his surroundings without terror. Most importantly, he could feel alive.
This is the power of the Energetic Mastery Method. It is not a theory, not a promise, but a lived transformation. Even the deepest nervous system collapse, even the most severe damage from psychedelics or uncontrolled Kundalini awakening, can be softened, healed, and reversed.
The secret lies in returning to the body, to the ground, to the breath. Not through artificial highs, but through natural integration. By awakening instinct, grounding energy, and breathing at the navel, the nervous system is restored. The brain begins to heal. Consciousness flows naturally.
This is how William, once reduced to a state of the living dead, came back to life. And this is the gift waiting for anyone who chooses to walk the same path: the gift of flow, of wholeness, of being alive again.
When you practice sincerely, you too can feel your nerves soften, your breath deepen, your brainwaves shift, and your spirit return to its original balance. This is not imagination. It is the design of nature, waiting for you to enter.
And so, as I told William when he first touched silence after twenty years: Welcome back to life.
Thank you.
