i turned 25 in the Himālayas, on the resplendent Khaliya trek, and camped in a remote meadow that can only be described as the land of the apasāras. 
hiking, i reflected on 24, which was the year of the great heartbreak: of fierce grace. the path burned through what i had worshipped as truth and held most dear, and violently pushed me to transform.
on last year’s pilgrimage to the Himālayas, i had prayed on a trek to Gomukh: “free me. i will do whatever it takes.” when the whatever it took came, it was not what i had imagined, and it broke my heart. i had thought i had known heartbreak, but all paled before the pain of facing the untruths i had clung to under the name of God. seeing through your own deceptions is a harsh business.
as the projections i had built my spiritual life around began crumbling, i was left feeling disillusioned, and i was tempted to renounce my search for God. one of the darkest nights of the soul of 24 was one of doubt, in which i doubted everything. i bitterly cursed my trust, and felt repulsed by the dynamics of modern spirituality. i reasoned, if such power dynamics can be built on spiritual teachings, then the teachings must be false.
and yet my intuition, which i had cut myself off from, arose gently; a tiny voice silently telling me that the truth i was seeking does exist. it is pulsing underneath the mirage. my intuition told me not to close myself. to trust the play and uncover the teachings. to keep moving and follow the energy.
diving deep into disillusionment paradoxically opened my system to increasing expansion as well as to a love of an encompassing nature that i had not tasted before.
followingly, one thing i have experienced, is this: freedom rests in autonomy on the spiritual path. the teachings, the dimensions of God, such as the Mahāvidyās, the Devas and Devīs, are real – only not in the way we tend to think about them and not in the way they are taught in modern spirituality. you have to experience them for yourself. you are intrinsically worthy of it. keep moving.
my motto for 25 is: whatever it takes.
excerpt from a poem from my upcoming collection “the Monsoon One and the pilgrim”. photo: Gangotrī at night. the Himālayas are calling again. 
amaryllis 