Words Diana Bou Dargham Tannoury
When I close my eyes and remember India, my memories linger on two voyages. Voyages to a land that deep within me, I had always sought.
It was February 2015 and I was boarding a plane to Coimbatore when the realization that I had been preparing myself for this moment since I was aware enough as a child to ask why?, dawned on me. Why am I here? Why is there so much suffering in this world? Why do we die? What can I do? This was the first time in a very long time that I was on my own journey, a journey through which I had the possibility to explore my spiritual yearnings, to seek the unknown, to seek what is and what is not.
This journey commenced, seven years ago, not in India but in Lebanon. It began the first time that I was in the presence of Jaggi Vasudev Sadhguru, a spiritual master, yogi, mystic, humanitarian, visionary, and the founder of Isha Yoga Foundation, at a two-day speaking engagement in Lebanon. Back then, I had read books about how to unleash our hidden forces, about how to visualize what we want from the universe, about how to train our minds, about love, philosophy, religion, spirituality, God, and much more. A lot of my readings made sense on an intellectual level, but the hard part was applying this knowledge to life. One thing I had read that I recalled afterward, when I saw Sadhguru, was that there is no need to seek your Guru because he will come to you. Here was the Master, all the way from India, giving a talk at the Regency Hotel, which was right next to my home in Adma. After this first encounter, listening to him speak for hours as well as experiencing his guided meditations, I discovered a logic with which my energies identified, it was a logic that I not only grasped on an intellectual level but that also shook up my stagnant energies to their core. I did not realize the extent of my readiness or the intensity of my thirst for the ancient science of yoga until days after, when on a trip, I found myself yearning to sit, close my eyes, and meditate.
That same year, I attended my first yoga program, Inner Engineering, at the Isha Yoga Centre in Lebanon and over the next two years, I completed all the other ones (three- to seven-day programs). I spent the following years doing my daily practices and meditations on my own as often as I could. Although I experienced my yoga practices as a support system that helped me to live well in full awareness of and gratitude for the present moment, aligning my mental, physical, emotional and inner energies, I wanted more. I had reconnected with my inner being, with the breath that infused life within me and I sought to explore the deeper realms of my life. It was time for the Samyama Program, the Silence Program in India, given by the Master himself, by Sadhguru at the Isha Yoga Foundation.
After two months of disciplined yogic practices and a vegan diet, as I boarded the plane that morning in February, leaving Beirut and all its madness behind, I felt stir within me the words a yogi friend had uttered a few days before: “Let the silent revolution of self-realization begin, have a nice last evening before your life changes forever.” I answered that I was ready for the silent revolution of self-realization to begin.
But was I ready for my life to change forever? I asked myself. I brushed the thought aside as I settled into my seat on the plane and began to daydream of the soon to be adventures. Looking back today, two and a half years later and after my second trip to India and to the Isha ashram, my life on the outside is more or less the same but my being has changed. I prefer to say that it is returning to its true nature.
In the taxi, leaving the sleeping small town of Coimbatore heading toward the natural reserve where the Isha ashram is located in the foothills of the Vellangiri Mountains, I watched my first sunrise in a land to which I was so connected and I felt the sun’s first timid rays gently bathe my skin. The heat at that early hour and during the month of February was still bearable. Entering the beautifully and powerfully energized space of the ashram at dawn touched by the first morning light, embraced by the Vellangiri mountain range, I was coming back to a place my spirit had always known. The taxi drove up a rock-paved road surrounded by trees, reached another gravel road and stopped at the entrance of a small building, its doorway bursting with colors from the blooming trees nearby. I took off my shoes, walked into the reception area, and admired the open courtyard with a garden in the middle. My room was in the adjacent two-story building, one of many housing facilities at the ashram, with open-air stairs and a bigger courtyard connected to the same garden. It was spacious and very comfortable. I had one week to settle into the rhythm of life here before I would leave the haven of this room and move to the Adiyogi (first yogi) hall with seven hundred other men and women to begin the silence program.
I relished that week, woke early to the sounds of the birds and animals in the reserve, took my yoga mat to a beautiful garden with a small pond, and did my yoga practices facing the magical Vellangiri mountains. I felt grounded walking barefoot in the ashram’s consecrated spaces, meditating in these powerful and subtle energy centers in which I promised myself to spend more time, on my next trip. I could finally just be.
Sitting cross-legged on the clean floor in my kurta (loose collarless shirt) and loose pants with others, I enjoyed the freedom of eating tasty vegan meals with my fingers, of feeling the food with my bare skin, of feeding myself. I took care of and loved myself, it was just me, it was so simple an act, yet one I tended to forgot about at times back home.
I met people from all walks of life, swamis (a Sanskrit word that means one who knows, who is master of himself) who had made the ashram their home and worked there, teaching in the schools or in the various yoga programs, trained teachers from various nationalities including Lebanese and volunteers who had decided to live in the ashram, others who were passing through and had decided to stay a while and volunteer, visitors who had come to attend a program like myself and many others. I met a woman in her twenties who arrived in India from Beirut on a bicycle; she crossed the bodies of water by boat, the rest she traversed by bicycle, sometimes she rode in a group; other times, alone. She had shaved her head to attract less attention and was physically strong. Here I was, flying over and feeling so brave and this woman had ridden her bicycle for months. The ashram was a beautiful and clean small village with pulsating energies where everything seemed to effortlessly flow.
The night before the silence program, I was anxious and did not sleep well. Early in the morning, I walked toward the Adiyogi hall dressed in my white kurta and white yoga pants with some of my belongings in a small bag. I had seven identical outfits in my bag, all white. I registered and handed over my phone, watch and other valuables for safe storage. A doctor approved my health form and I was given the number 135, which would be the only thing that linked me to the outside world for the next week. I saw my favourite number 777 pass me by and I wondered who the lucky person was. I put my belongings in the baggage area, which I could access during breaks and entered the hall. I picked my mattress and left to get a pillow and sheets. When I headed back, a few minutes later, there was a number on the empty mattress next to mine, 777.
The Samyama program is an eight-day residential program conducted by Sadhguru. The Samyama meditations are described as providing the experiential possibility to free oneself from the bonds of karma and purify the body and mind to receive higher levels of energy. It presents the potential for heightened levels of consciousness and deep states of meditation in the presence of a living master. For seekers with great longing, Samyama is a possibility for true transformation, which has never in spiritual history been given to so many people at one time.1
The rules were simple. There would be no communication of any kind with anyone, including Sadhguru, the teachers and volunteers, either through speech, looks, smiles, eye contact, gestures, or notes. We were asked to bring all necessary medication in case we became sick because we were responsible for our own well-being. If silence was broken in any way, we would be asked to leave the program. We would be given breaks throughout the day, in which we were to maintain our state of silence and could leave the hall only to go to directly adjacent premises for eating, showering, or using the restroom facilities. The volunteers would help prepare our vegan meals and clean the hall burning incense every morning. The first day and the rest of the week was spent in intense guided meditations, our eyes open only during breaks that were sounded by bongs and to watch videos about the meditation processes.
The sound of the bong woke us up every morning at 4:30 a.m.; I would open my eyes, my ears catching the sweeping noises of floors being swept, ever so softly. I had no concept of time for the rest of the day but I think that we slept around 10 p.m.
I felt better on the second day, more adjusted and my nervousness had subsided. I was meditating with ease and had slept well. I could not believe how easy it was to share my personal space with seven hundred others.
I could hear some breathe heavy and sneeze, others snore or cough, but I felt that this was our world, that we were all protected in this womb, that we were one. By this time, although I had appeased the noises in my head and withdrawn into myself, I felt my ego resisting, needing to attach itself to an identity. I walked around during breaks wondering if this was all a figment of my imagination, questioning the fine line between my realities and illusions.
People moved around me, all in white, engrossed in their worlds just as I was in mine, each one with a different plan on how to use the free time during breaks. I realized that even when humans were left with the most basic of choices, they still managed to organize their time in different ways. One thing we all did unfailingly was our yoga asanas. As soon as I heard the bong,
I would grab my mat and run out to the open air space in order to ensure a place to practice my hatha yoga. In addition to a long practice we did every morning, holding the different yoga postures during breaks provided us with great support during meditations. The mind has a need to plan and I was grateful to it in this situation. Each free minute became precious for taking care of me in order to make it through the rest of the days. I organized my time to eat, rest, shower, get some fresh air and sun every day. It was in the courtyard on such a day, as I was washing my plate in a hurry before the bong sounded, that I realized that life can only be lived through experience; no amount of books could impart to me what I was experiencing. It sounds simple, but to grasp it on an experiential level is mind-blowing.
It was not until the third day that my mind started acting up. There were scary moments in which I thought that I would never leave the hall, that nothing existed in my life prior to the silence program, and that the rest was all an illusion. I also felt I had lost my previous life and my loved ones; that my old self had never really existed or had died. I would feel my mind try to take over, it was afraid of change, even for the better, only wanting to stay attached to that with which it could identify. However, the time spent in breathing awareness and meditations accompanied by live music was so relaxing and soothing that all my fears quickly dissipated. I remembered what I had learned in my first yoga program, in Inner Engineering: this is my reality now because this moment is the only moment that I will ever experience. I have never experienced the past nor will I ever experience the future; it was always now. I need to trust this moment that I am in and be aware enough to glide smoothly into the next one.
During the most intense sessions, I cried and I felt myself surrender, letting go of all attachments, my ego was stripped naked of all pretences, and I was reunited with the source of creation. I experienced that I was not the body and not the mind, that my breath was my connection to the infinite and immortal source of life within me. The rest of the time seemed to fly by, my struggle was nearing its end and I flowed in and out of the days. With each passing one, I felt myself shedding baggage that I had been carrying for so long that it felt like second skin; heavy skin that had been stuck to my flesh for decades and maybe even lifetimes. I realized that it was all about the life within me, about my breath connecting this life to the world we call Earth. I had spent eight days cherishing this breath, concentrating on it, as if it were the first breath I had ever taken or will take again. I became my main focus, I had finally come home.
After the program ended, I met the woman with the number 777, the woman who had been sleeping on the mattress to my right over the past week. She was staying in a room not far from mine; we broke our silence together. Her name was Geeta and she told me that she was writing a book about Indian fashion, from thousands of years ago until the present, to be published by Hachette. I was thrilled to learn about her book and I felt that it was a sign for me to advance with my writing and publish my book of poetry. As we took a walk together, it started to rain and we both ran. In that moment, I was the lightest, happiest, and most carefree that I had ever been so far in my life. It is the memory of this feeling, if only for a fleeting moment, that keeps the flame burning within me. It is the realization that we are the masters of our own happiness and that we complete ourselves within that has transformed my life forever. In that moment I understood what my friend meant when she said to get ready for my life to change forever. I was ready for my life to change and it had. Nothing around me has changed but my awareness of life has and even in my saddest moments, if I close my eyes and seek, there is peace within me.
Two years passed during which I continued to meditate and do my yoga practices as often as possible considering my other responsibilities and the busy lifestyle that I led. During these two years, I continued to shed the extra skin; I did not even have to shed because it came off on its own. I could take care of myself, love myself, put myself first without feeling guilty that I had forgotten to do something for someone or that I had not given enough time or attention to this or that person. I finally gave myself a break; I started understanding who I was as a being and listening to my needs. Once again, this did not happen on a mental level, it happened on an experiential and energy level. The more I practiced yoga, the more balanced my energies became and my innermost core started finding its expression. This is how I discovered what I wanted to do and how I wanted to deal with many aspects of my life, not from the impressions the world had imparted in me over the decades, not from the environment in which I lived, nor from the relations I had with others but from my inner self. My perception and experience of life were enhanced and I lived it fully in the moment. My interpersonal relationships deepened because I only accepted to spend time with and energy on the ones that welcomed this exchange with me.
There were still challenges and struggles but I no longer resisted, I experienced them in the moment and ultimately, being present with all my senses even in suffering yet also capable of being an observer, of maintaining a distance between myself and my mind, my physicality and my emotions, pushed my spiritual growth further. My mental clarity and sleep quality improved, my energy levels increased. I had access to the innate intelligence within me and my creativity blossomed. I entered the Walt Whitman poetry competition, but I needed a total of forty eight poems. I was missing twelve which I wrote in a week before the deadline, pouring my being into my writing. I had finally found greater peace and joy in everyday life.
I still yearned to go back to India and I felt the pull in my energies. I learned that the Isha Yoga Foundation had designed and built a steel 112-foot bust of the first yogi, the Adiyogi and the source of yoga, representing the 112 methods of yoga that he introduced fifteen thousand years ago in the upper regions of the Himalayas. The Adiyogi statue would be consecrated by Sadhguru on February 24, 2017 on Mahashivaratri night at the Isha Yoga Center in the presence of Prime Minister Modi. The Mahashivaratri celebration is the biggest and most significant amongst the sacred festival nights of India. It takes place on the darkest night of the year or the longest night of the year and celebrates the grace of Shiva, who is considered the Adiyogi or the First Guru. The unique planetary positions on this night initiate an upsurge of energy in the human system. One can reap immense benefits by staying awake all night and keeping the spine erect.
Starting on February 20th until the 23rd, Sadhguru would consecrate a unique linga (elliptical stone) that would be installed in front of the 112-foot statue of Adiyogi on February 24th. I knew that “participating in a consecration of this nature is a tremendously powerful process” in Sadhguru’s exact words. However, the dates coincided with a previously planned family trip, but I decided to do whatever was needed to be present at the unveiling of the Adiyogi statue. I returned to Beirut from my trip on the 22nd in the afternoon and on the morning of the 23rd, I was on my way to Coimbatore. I arrived at the Isha ashram on the 24th at dawn and found it bustling with people. There were thousands of visitors who had come from all over India and the world to participate in the consecration. The lodgings were all full and tents had been erected on vacant terrain inside and outside the ashram. There was a tremendous amount of activity going on with volunteers organizing the last details of the Mahashivaratri celebrations that would start at 6 p.m. that day. There would be around eight hundred thousand people that night, with a show lasting till dawn. There was intensity in the air and added excitement because it was finally confirmed that Prime Minister Narendra Modi would visit the ashram and inaugurate the Adiyogi statue. Many members of the government and dignitaries were staying at the ashram for the event and the security in some areas was very tight. This was a different ashram from the one that I left behind two years ago but I liked it.
I was registered to stay in one of the tents that had been especially erected for the event, complete with beds, furniture, rugs, an AC, and a bathroom. There were rows of these tents set up to accommodate the visitors who did not find rooms. As I waited for my tent to be prepared, I noticed that there was a Pancha Bhuta Aradhana ceremony taking place. The ceremony cleanses the five elements (water, earth, fire, wind, limitless space) in the human system, to establish overall wellbeing of body and mind. It is given on the 14th day of each lunar month with its culmination on the day of Mahashivaratri. In five minutes, I found a private space where I could change into my yoga pants and kurta, left my belongings at the welcome desk, and ran toward the temple of the Dhyanalinga.
Dhyana in the Sanskrit language means “meditation” and linga means “form.” It is a powerful and unique energy form created from the distilled essence of yogic sciences and the first of its kind to be completed in over 2,000 years. It is a meditative space that does not ascribe to any particular faith or religious system. The Dhyanalinga was consecrated by Sadhguru in 1999 after three years of intense prana (life force or life energy) work. Measuring 13 feet 9 inches in height, Dhyanalinga is the largest live mercury- based linga in the world; it is an energy center of tremendous proportions and a doorway to enlightenment as well as liberation. The cool and soothing space of the inner sanctum is spanned by a dome built from natural materials, mainly mud mortar, brick, and herbal additives.
There is a gold copper linga that covers the central opening of the dome, a design that helps in ventilation and regulating the temperature. There are twenty eight aura cells within the circular granite wall supporting the dome, which offer intimate spaces to sit and meditate. Just sitting silently for a few minutes within the sphere of Dhyanalinga is enough to make even those unaware of meditation experience a state of deep meditativeness.
I took part in the Pancha Bhuta Aradhana ceremony sitting in the energized space of the Dhyanalinga, experiencing the qualities of each of the five elements being made accessible through ancient scientific processes involving mantra (sound) and form (yantra). Soil was used to represent the element earth, water was brought from the Vellangiri Mountains, flames represented the element of fire, and wind was created waving colossal fans made of Mahavilva leaves in synchronized movements. Finally, there was the limitless space made available through Sadhguru’s grace, which holds the other four elements.
After the ceremony, I headed to my tent with my belongings. Although I had not slept in twenty four hours and I knew I would be up all night for Mahashivaratri, I felt energized and refreshed. I dozed for an hour, woke, and started preparing myself for the event. We were all supposed to leave the main gates by 4 p.m. before Prime Minister Modi’s visit to the Ashram and walk toward the Adiyogi grounds where the consecration would take place. I left the tent, picked up my color tag at the welcome desk, which showed my seating area, and headed toward my designated location.
I met up with friends who had attended the three days’ consecration processes by Sadhguru, which began on February 20th. They described the intensity of the experience and the depth of the meditations to me while I listened to them wide-eyed with a little remorse that I had been unable to attend this once in a lifetime experience from the start. However, I was overcome with gratitude that I had made it for Mahashivaratri.
The evening started at 6 p.m. with performances by famous Indian singers. I looked around me in a daze. As far as my eyesight could reach behind me stretching for miles, there were hundreds of thousands of people. I was impressed that the venue was so easily accessible to so many spectators and that everything progressed in such an orderly fashion. There was a huge stage set up in front of the breathtakingly grandiose Adiyogi statue and in front of the energized Yogeshwar linga that had been consecrated by Sadhguru during the last three days. To my left and right were enormous screens broadcasting the event live, simultaneously in seven languages, to over fifty million people through over twenty three satellite television channels and several online platforms. A man sitting next to me showed me the front page of the India Times with a picture of the 112-foot statue of the AdiYogi telling me that it would be the largest face of the planet and was recognized as the largest bust in the Guinness World Records.
Just as his words resonated in my ears, the sound of helicopters caught my attention and I looked up to see them flying overhead. One was transporting Prime Minister Modi to the ashram. We watched on the screens as Sadhguru welcomed him, took him to the Dhyanalinga, and escorted him toward the event venue.
Upon his arrival, PM Modi unveiled the Yogeshwar linga and introduced the 112-foot Adiyogi sculpture. He expressed his desire that the Adiyogi would inspire many generations to take up yoga and his gratitude for Sadhguru for bringing it to us. Describing the significance of Adiyogi, Sadhguru said: “It is essential that the next generations of people on this planet are seekers, not believers….For the first time in the history of humanity, Adiyogi introduced the idea that the simple laws of nature are not permanent restrictions. If one is willing to strive, one can go beyond all limitations and attain liberation, moving humanity from assumed stagnation to conscious evolution”.
The rest of the night was filled with musical and dance performances by world-class artists as well as colorful cultural programs. I was enthralled by the choreography of the dances, the colourful costumes, the talented acrobatic dance troops, the African drum players, the Indian singers and musicians, by sounds of Isha (Isha’s home grown group of musicians), and so much more.
It was an endless array of shows, one after the other, which even included child performers and lasted till dawn. At midnight, we all partook in a powerful meditation guided by Sadhguru and listened to his discourse. This was followed by other meditations throughout the night and by an oath that one million people took to teach a simple form of yoga to at least a hundred people each in the coming year, and touch at least a hundred million people before the next Mahashivaratri.
At 6 a.m., with the first morning light, eight hundred thousand people gracefully left the venue as quietly and gently as they had arrived. I had never witnessed such a procession of humans glide effortlessly and disappear. I reached my tent still in a dream.
I had danced, laughed, and meditated all night, my senses filled with music and art. I fell onto the bed and slept until the early afternoon. The next day, the Ashram slowly started to retake its original form, with tents being pulled down and people departing. The day after, the government officials and security personnel had left and I moved into the lodgings that I had occupied on my first trip to India.
I was happy to rediscover the quiet and serenity of the ashram grounds and I spent eight days on a well-planned schedule. I did my practices every day in my favorite garden surrounded by the Vellangiri Mountains. I would eat light at the little eatery next to the yoga shop and buy some fruits from the minimarket. I enjoyed some ayurveda treatments at the wellness center. I visited the Dhyanalinga energy center twice a day at 11:45 a.m. and 5:45 p.m. for Nada Aradhana or the offering of sound. The etheric blend of flowing vocals, singing bowls, and melodious instruments enhances one’s receptivity to the energies of the Dhyanalinga. In these moments of ecstatic meditations, I felt my spirit soar, I was vibrant and alive. In all the beauty I had experienced in life, my moment sitting cross-legged open to the universe, just being, was ultimate in its purity and infinite in its possibilities.
As I closed my eyes and breathed, I awakened to the eternal possibilities within me, to the blossoming awareness of all that I was and will always be.
Nearly every night after dinner, I visited another beautifully energized center consecrated by Sadhguru called Linga Bhairavi, or the Devi Temple. I loved to meditate there because of its subtle form of female energy. It is not as intense as the energy at the Dhyanalinga, but it is strong in a gentle way and is felt gradually. After which, if it were not too late, I would walk toward the Adiyogi statue and admire its beauty, basking in the energy of its newly consecrated Yogeshwar linga.
One night, after a vegan dinner sitting on the floor in the Biksha dining hall, I looked across and saw Geeta. Our eyes met in instant recognition. She came over; we hugged and talked about all we had done the last two years. She had attended the Yogeshwar linga consecration and the Mahashivaratri event. I was excited to hear that Geeta had published her book called Style of India with Hachette. Since I had not yet found a publisher nor really started the process, I asked her a few questions and she gave me some invaluable insights. Geeta was leaving the next morning; we wished each other luck and promised to keep in touch. A few days later, I left the Ashram with my heart content and at peace, promising myself to visit again next year. On my return back to Lebanon, I basked in my serenity for months and whenever I felt drained, I would close my eyes, start my yoga practices, and through my energies, I would return to India.
I was asked many times what is so special about India. Why do people love being there and say that it has good vibes and great energies? While writing about my experiences, I touched upon the ancient science of consecration. The Isha ashram is a vibrant space in which to live because it is a consecrated space with three energized lingas. Sadhguru explains that India has a science of consecration, which is a live process because there is a need to get in touch with the source of creation. Every street has at least three temples because it is important for human well-being to walk in consecrated spaces. Temples were consecrated according to the science of energizing form, using life energies to enhance human life.
Everything thus can become a divine possibility and everything is the same energy manifesting itself in a million different ways. Thus idols in the Hindu way of life were not a mere depiction of gods, but were scientifically created as powerful energy centers.
“The significance of Indian culture is that it is a scientific process towards human liberation and well -being. No other culture has looked at a human being with as much depth and understanding as this culture has… Indian culture has been among the few cultures on this planet where for thousands of years, the whole population was focused only on the ultimate well-being of a human being” and “this sense of no human being should live in a non consecrated space is something which is deep rooted in this culture, because it is just like you plant something into this earth, only if the roots are sticking into a rich earth will the flower and fruit come out….it is not just about what you eat, it is not just about what kind of work you do, what kind of space you live in, this is very important in the East….because if you want to produce generations of enhanced human beings you need this kind of space…this culture produced a galaxy of knowledge, a galaxy of enlightened beings …but all that got fractured 800 to 900 years because of invasions and displacement of peoples…”(Sadhguru)
Sadhguru tells us that India is a land, where 1,200 years ago, ancient temples were only created for Shiva. The word Shiva literally means “that which is not,” that which is beyond the physical. Back then, thousands of temples were built with no deity in mind. They were only Shiva temples with a representative form and it was a linga, a perfect ellipsoid. Sadhguru explains that creation started as an ellipsoid and then became many things. Likewise, before the point of an absolute form of dissolution, energy takes the form of an ellipsoid or linga again. In between both is creation and beyond is Shiva. Thus, it is through this ancient science of form that all over India, temples were consecrated.
“A temple is the creation of a space where the physical becomes thin, and something beyond becomes visible to you. This science of making the physical less manifest is the science of consecration so that the dimension beyond physical becomes apparent or visible to you if you are willing.” (Sadhguru) The Kedarnath temple on the Garhwal Himalayan range is such a space that has been energised by thousands of mystics and yogis over the ages. These mystics’ way of making an offering to this world was by leaving their energies, their path, and their work in a certain energy form in these spaces. These energy forms are felt all over consecrated spaces, in temples such as Badrinath in Uttarakhand (Himalayan region) and Chidambaram in Tamil Nadu and Kashi in Uttar Pradesh, which was the centre of rituals and the oldest living city of the planet, planned 15,000 years ago, it was a complex and geometrically perfect design; in mountains such as Mount Kailash in western Tibet which Sadhguru calls the greatest mystical library. “For thousands of years realised beings always travelled to Mount Kailash and deposited their knowledge in a certain energy form…when I bow to Kailash, I bow down to it the same way I would bow down to my Guru…in terms of inner dimensions, anything that you ever want to know is in Kailash.”(Sadhguru)
It is only since 1,200 years that temples have been built with specific deities in mind and not specifically focused on the science of consecration. This is why Sadhguru’s consecrated spaces at the Isha ashram are powerful. He is reviving this lost science that has made it possible for India to reverberate with energy through thousands of years until today.
1. Information taken from Isha Yoga Foundation literature.