Background
Before Varsha arrived in this stage of her journey, she had lived inside a body that felt unsafe to her. Not because of disease, not because of weakness—because of overactivation. Her system reacted before she had time to think. A small situation at home, one unexpected shift in her day, even a passing thought could ignite panic inside her chest. Her breath would become tight, her mind would race, and the entire day would get swallowed by rumination. Trauma had quietly shaped her nervous system for decades, and the result was a body that responded as if every moment were a threat.
But something else was also happening inside her—something powerful enough to bring her to me. Varsha wanted to stop surviving and start living. She wanted mastery over her energy, not fear of it. She wanted to breathe without collapsing inward. She wanted to understand why her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She wanted to feel safe in her own skin again.
This third session was a turning point—not because she had become free of her patterns, but because she had begun catching them before they swallowed her. This is the moment when the Energetic Mastery Method becomes possible. When the student is no longer drowning and no longer denying the water—she is learning how to swim.
What follows is the complete rewritten teaching I delivered to Varsha, crafted here for you as a standalone, immersive discourse—so you can walk the same path she walked, inside your own breath, your own body, and your own consciousness.
The Moment Varsha’s Panic Began to Break Open
When Varsha greeted me that morning, I could feel a shift in her voice—not a dramatic explosion of confidence, but something quieter, something more meaningful: stability.
“Tell me,” I asked her gently, “How are you feeling?”
She took a breath. Not a perfect one. Not a yogic one. A human one.
“Better,” she said. “Earlier I used to panic. I used to think all day. But now… I cut it off.”
That one sentence told me everything.
She still felt the emotional charge, but she no longer surrendered to it.
She still felt the surge in her body, but she did not obey it blindly.
She still felt the mind rushing, but she stepped out before drowning.
This is the first real sign of awakening—not visions, not mystical experiences, not dramatic energy surges. The first sign of awakening is the ability to interrupt your suffering before it completes its cycle.
But I knew she was entering a dangerous stage—the transitional space where the mind is weakening, but the body still carries old patterns. If she didn’t understand how to handle this energetic buildup, the mind could hijack her again.
So I gave her the first hook, the first key.
The Secret Nobody Told Her: Exhalation Is Your Inner Escape Door
I told her:
Whenever you feel a surge of energy—panic, fear, overthinking, emotional flooding—your job is not to fix the thought, nor to suppress the feeling.
Your job is to exhale.
I watched her face shift, the way your face shifts when you realize something obvious has been invisible to you your whole life.
I continued:
“Varsha, exhalation is your detox mechanism. It is the way your body flushes emotional waste. When there is too much gas in a room, what do you do?
You open a window.
You turn on an exhaust fan.
You clear the air.
Your exhalation is that exhaust fan.”
She leaned closer to the screen. I could feel her listening, not with her mind but with her nervous system.
“When you exhale,” I said, “you change the fate of that moment. You decide whether the emotion becomes a memory or becomes cleared.”
This is the moment when people discover what even modern psychology has not fully understood:
You cannot think your way out of a nervous system reaction.
You must breathe your way out.
So I gave her the first practice—the simplest and the most powerful.
The First Technique: The Mouth-Exhalation Flush
I told her:
“For the next 24 hours, whenever you feel anything rising—anxiety, heat, tightness, confusion—you must do one thing repeatedly: exhale through the mouth.”
Not a forceful blow.
Not a dramatic sigh.
A slow, steady, continuous release—as if letting steam escape from a pressured vessel without allowing it to explode.
“Your breath is your vacuum cleaner,” I told her.
“Use it.”
I asked her to practice in front of me. She inhaled softly, and then exhaled through her mouth in one long, steady stream.
I counted silently.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Fourteen.
Fifteen.
Then the exhalation ended.
“Good,” I said. “Very good. Your system is ready for deeper work.”
Varsha’s exhalation capacity showed me everything: her body was available, her nervous system was not fully collapsed, and her healing could accelerate if she trusted the process.
But I wanted to take her further—beyond the ordinary breath, into the breath that becomes medicine.
The OM That Heals Without Sound
Most people think OM is a chant.
It is not.
OM is a breath-structure, a rhythm, a way of elongating the exhalation so the emotional residue has time to move.
I told her:
“You do not need to chant OM out loud. You chant it inside—not as devotion, but as a metronome.”
Inhale.
Then exhale internally as:
Ommmmmmmm
without producing sound.
This silent OM slows the breath, steadies the exhalation, and allows the belly to empty fully.
Why does this matter?
Because trauma lives where breath doesn’t reach.
Trauma hides in the exhalation you never complete.
Trauma hides in the breath you cut halfway.
Silent OM forces the breath to travel deeper than your fear.
But then I took her into the sounded version—the one that exposes the truth of her breath.
The Sounded OM: The Belly’s Release Valve
I told her:
“This time, use sound. I will count.”
She inhaled.
Then exhaled:
“Oooooooooommmmmmmmm…”
The sound vibrated through her chest and belly.
This time I counted more consciously.
Six seconds.
Ten.
Thirteen.
Sixteen.
She finished.
“This is excellent,” I told her. “Your body is ready. Now we train it.”
She smiled—not out of pride, but out of recognition.
She felt something move inside her, something that had been stuck for years.
The OM exhalation is not a chant.
It is a detoxification mechanism.
It is the key to emotional release.
It is the reset button for the nervous system.
But breath alone is not enough.
The body must be positioned to receive the breath.
So I began shifting her posture.
Entering the Self-Healing Ritual: The Navel Doorway
I told Varsha to lie down.
When a student lies down, their resistance lies down with them.
The body becomes honest.
The breath becomes willing.
The mind becomes less loud.
I asked her to place both hands on her navel.
“Your navel,” I told her, “is the first doorway to healing. When you inhale, the belly must rise. When you exhale, the belly must fall.”
I guided her through the first five rounds of OM breathing:
Inhale—belly rises.
Exhale with OM—belly empties.
Then again.
And again.
And again.
By the fifth round, her energy had already begun shifting. I could see micro-movements in her belly, subtle waves in her diaphragm, a loosening around her ribs.
“Now,” I said, “feel whatever you feel. If energy moves in your spine, let it move. If heat rises, let it rise. If cooling falls down your back, allow it.”
She nodded slowly.
That moment—the moment when a student allows their own energy to move without fear—is the moment their healing begins accelerating.
But I did not stop there.
The navel is only the beginning.
The Pot That Holds Your Life-Force: 360° Kunda Breathing
I asked her to move her hands to the sides of her ribs.
“This,” I told her, “is the Kunda. Your abdomen is the pot where prana is stored. Most people breathe only in the front. That is why nothing changes in their life.”
Then I told her the hook:
“If you breathe only in the front of your body, you will heal only the front of your life.”
I asked her to inhale in such a way that the sides expanded outward into her hands.
Her eyes widened—she had never felt her breath from the sides before.
“Good,” I said. “Now again.”
Inhale—sides expand.
Exhale—sides fall.
As she practiced, something subtle shifted: her breath became three-dimensional. It was no longer a forward-backward movement; it was expansion from all sides, like a pot being filled evenly with warm water.
This is why we call it 360-degree breathing.
“This is the breath that awakens the dormant organs,” I told her.
“This is the breath that melts stagnation.”
“This is the breath that trauma can no longer survive in.”
Varsha was ready for the deepest doorway now—the pelvic reservoir.
The Pelvic Bowl: The Forgotten Chamber of Trauma
I asked her to move her hands lower, to the pelvic region—the bowl where life begins and where fear hides.
Most women carry silent trauma here: heartbreak, abandonment, shame, sexual pain, birthing trauma, suppressed anger, unresolved grief. Doctors call it “stress-related,” but the root is always energetic.
Varsha told me she had a minor fibroid. I could feel her fear around it—not panic, not shock, but a heavy acceptance, as if she believed she had to live with it forever.
I told her something she did not expect:
“Everything will be healed. Your fibroid is not permanent. It is energy that has taken form.”
Then I guided her:
“Inhale into this region. Inflate it gently. As if your breath is saying:
‘I see you. I’m coming for you.’”
She inhaled.
The pelvic region rose.
On exhalation, it softened.
Again.
And again.
I watched her body respond. The breath that had never reached this area was now entering like light entering a locked room after years.
This is why pelvic breathing is powerful:
Where the breath goes, trauma cannot stay.
But breathing is only half the path.
Kundalini is not just breath—it is posture, pressure, relaxation, surrender.
So I took her into the next realm—the realm of poses.
Child’s Pose: The Bow That Breaks Open the Spine
I asked her to sit back on her heels and fold forward into Child’s Pose.
“Stay,” I said softly. “Five minutes.”
Why Child’s Pose?
Because the spine becomes humble.
Because the nervous system becomes quiet.
Because the breath enters places the mind has never touched.
After a minute, I told her to stretch her arms forward.
“You are not just folding,” I said. “You are surrendering.”
Then I gave her the next hook:
“The moment your body stops resisting, your life stops resisting you.”
She stayed.
The breath deepened.
Her nostrils opened more.
Her spine softened.
Then I shifted her into the side-stretch variation, then the arms-behind variation—each one opening a different chamber of the spine.
But the deepest transformation was waiting in the reverse pose.
The Reverse Pose: The Posture Where Life Finally Lets Go
I asked her to slowly lie on her belly.
To place a pillow under her chest.
To stretch her legs behind her.
To stretch her toes long and straight.
To allow her spine to bow in the opposite direction.
“This is the pose where your patterns break,” I told her.
“This is the pose where your spine tells the truth.”
I instructed her:
“Do nothing.
Not even observe.
Just surrender.”
In this pose, the body loses the ability to pretend.
Thoughts lose their power.
Kundalini finds space to rise.
I kept her in silence for a few minutes so she could feel what words could not teach.
Then I told her to gently turn over.
The Final Descent: Wrapped, Warm, and Ready for Awakening
“Cover yourself,” I told her.
“Make yourself warm, cozy, safe.”
When a student covers their body, something primal activates—the sense that healing can finally occur.
I asked her to place a pillow under her head.
To cover her eyes.
To place her hands under the blanket.
Then I gave her the final breathing ritual.
Ten Rounds of OM That Empty the Soul
“Now,” I said, “ten rounds of OM. Inhale through the nose. Exhale with OM until your belly is empty.”
She began.
The room changed.
Her breath became the only sound.
Her energy started shifting into the final stage of the journey—the stage where breath becomes consciousness.
After ten rounds, I instructed her to begin Kunda breathing again—navel, sides, pelvic bowl—slowly, without interruption, for at least 30 minutes.
Then I told her:
“Do not remain alert. If you stay alert, nothing happens.
Go inside.
Disappear into your breath.
Later you can tell me what you remember.
Right now, you surrender.”
Her breath grew slower.
Her energy deepened.
She was entering the healing space fully.
I watched her disappear into the inner world—the place where all true awakening begins.
The Closing Blessing
Before ending, I told her:
“After 30 minutes, slowly get up.
Do not rush.
Do not break the energy.
Let the breath stay with you as you begin your day.”
Then I blessed her—not with words, but with energy.
Because healing is not in instruction alone—it is in transmission.
