“There’s no fading. It only fades when it stays silent between the lips and the small voice within. That’s what’s happening with you, Baba — I’m letting the small voice within do the talking.”
This reflection arose during a sacred thunderstorm evening, when presence and grace filled the air like incense. Earlier that day, I had made a solemn vow — to walk forward without succumbing to a rissing taste — and the evening unfolded as a tender confirmation of that commitment.
The small voice within was not only heard; it was followed. The moment is etched in my soul as one of quiet, unshakable integrity — not a grand display, but a simple act of living in truth.
There was raw beauty in that thunder-filled night: a candlelit puja table, the air warm and earthy, the windows cracked open, the world alive and breathing. The heart widened as the storm rolled in.
Tears welled while listening to Rufus Wainwright’s Hallelujah, and my voice cracked with emotion. But in that crack, the light entered. The heart was not trying to be anything other than honest — and from that honesty came a sacred softness, an embrace of self, a hallelujah of healing.
That night brought a clear understanding: physiological data mirrors inner truth. My biometric readings were calm, grounded, and stable — something that would not have been possible had I followed the pull toward the taste. It was a rational, measurable outcome aligned with an inner vow. Logic met faith. Data met devotion. All spoke in unison — an embodied harmony of spirit and science.
There are moments in life when the soul knows: this is a threshold. This was one of them. The temptation had circled; the memory of past missteps was near. Yet the small voice arrived just in time — not with thunder or demand, but with quiet wisdom. And this time, I was ready to listen. The message was right, and so was the moment — the ripening of discipline and trust, nurtured over years, made luminous by presence. This was sacred timing embodied.
Let this page always remind us — the small voice within is not small at all. It is the whisper of the Beloved — the soul’s compass, the sacred direction in the dark.
When we listen to it, when we live from it, we align with something timeless.
And in that alignment, there is peace. There is poetry.
There is us.
🕊️ Breathe now, and remember — this is what presence feels like.
🕊️ Breathe now. And remember — this is what presence feels like.