The Taste of Loneliness and Effortless Living

The Taste of Loneliness and Effortless Living

To leave the inertia of food consumption and indulgence with food, we need to taste how fasting is beautiful — to understand the nature of the stomach, the inner systems, how repair happens, and how the body becomes clear, quiet, and calm when minimal or no food enters, allowing the body to complete its renovations. In the beginning stages of fasting, it is very difficult for the body to leave the inertia of food. In the first one or two days of long fasts or early fasting practices, the body never easily releases this inertia. It has been conditioned for years to consume food at fixed times, creating a very strong inertia. When this pattern does not dissolve immediately, acids and various secretions still occur according to habitual timing. But if we wait and repeat cycles of fasting — two or three days at a time — slowly the body recognizes a different state of being, a state where life continues without food. Then it begins to identify that no food itself can be the greatest therapy, the greatest medicine, even the greatest nourishment. This is not verbal understanding. Verbal knowledge is not understanding. Understanding happens only through experience.

To know the taste of fasting is essential to live free from food and to recognize limits clearly, registering them accurately. In the same way, in a chaotic world, internal clarity alone does not matter unless we give the body and psyche a chance to live alone. Over time — one month, two months, three months — for those with deep-rooted impressions, strong traumas, or intense past conditioning, the first few months of loneliness can feel like hell. If one has not identified their own inner tuning and clarity, this loneliness can push them toward madness or depression. But for someone who has inner clarity yet has not allowed the psyche to recognize what is safe, unsafe, liberating, or restrictive even at the surface level, the psyche remains unregistered. Once the psyche registers a state where it is free of thoughts, living effortlessly, or performing activities purely as play without cause, something fundamental shifts. Where there is no cause, there is no effect, no residue. Everything happens playfully, yet with high focus. Play itself is a highly focused state. There is focus without indulgence. When boredom arises, one shifts naturally to another activity or continues with minimal mental involvement. One can sit for long periods doing nothing, simply looking around like a child watching the sky for no reason. That is a peaceful state.

At least at the psyche level, one begins to taste nothingness — no engagement with people, no engagement with belongings, no engagement with lovers, nothing. Just being. Slowly, observation shifts inward, and even the body becomes less observable. This is a slightly advanced stage. The first step is willingly giving the mind isolation for a few months. In my own case, childhood experiences, deep chaos, and long-standing depressions formed strong inertia in my nervous system. Suppressed effects surfaced intensely during the months of June, July, August, September, October, and November. Despite internal clarity, psyche-level stillness was not possible. I once believed psyche-level stillness was impossible for anyone, but I realized that the psyche too needs complete space to understand what is fundamental and what is not. Without doing anything, without communication, without even conscious self-interaction, the psyche must register how happiness can exist without reason. That registration requires space. Once the psyche knows this state, it begins to crave it. Neural memory expands, recognizing this state as more tasteful than all others. This is a practical experience.

The general perception is that loneliness is dangerous, dark, or destructive. But why not reverse this view? This is not affirmation or rebellion; it is nature’s way. Animals are not afraid of loneliness, nor do they intentionally seek groups. They respond situationally. That is nature’s rhythm. This is why animals carry no karmic residue. They respond instantly to biological needs and move on. Humans, too, can recognize that perception itself is human-made. I realized only recently that my entire perception was my mind. Even with internal clarity, the external surface must be organized. The psyche requires discipline — not imposed rules, but a natural ordering. One must allow the psyche to discover which states are livable. Only then does the sweetness of loneliness appear. This does not happen in days or months; it may take six months or a year. Isolation is not avoidance of people; it is allowing the psyche to exceed its habitual social conditioning. There exists a state even at the physical level where one can stay without reason.

The time required depends on past impressions, traumas, depressions, and emotional depth. The first few months may be anxiety-filled, just like early fasting stages when the body demands food. Slowly, as the body recognizes fasting’s subtlety, the psyche recognizes its own stillness. Psyche-level stillness does not require complex practices or spiritual techniques. When the external surface is still, the inner journey becomes automatic. This realization was revolutionary for me. Over time, when all engagements close, one begins to ask: with whom am I engaging now? Sitting without purpose, playing with a stone without outcome — yet every movement is graceful and focused. That is effortless living.

This does not mean doing nothing or escaping life. The misunderstanding is that withdrawal is the solution. The truth is that the psyche must register happiness without objects. Even a selfish person can reach this state if given enough isolation. But tolerance limits matter, and overwhelming nervous dynamics must be managed. Not everyone can cross this gap. Those who do find paradise everywhere. Stillness is not a property of the psyche; it is its demand. Biological attractions may arise momentarily, but no residue remains. Training the psyche means doing nothing — sitting quietly without people, without mobile phones, without attachments, simply looking at the sky. This is a powerful practice. The psyche then reaches a clear conclusion: stability is possible at the psyche level. Reactions may occur, but they do not persist. Intentions dissolve quickly. Calmness becomes inertia. The psyche shifts from chaotic inertia to stillness because it has tasted it.

After tasting this, activities continue as before, but the psyche has expanded toward something more profound. Every action becomes graceful, focused, and free of residue. Work is done for basic needs and then released. Baggage disappears. These are not verbal truths; they must be experienced. Proper self-isolation helps, but without understanding, isolation can harm. Once this state is registered, even public life does not disturb the psyche. Isolation then becomes internal, not physical. Within chaos, one remains untouched. This state cannot be forced. It naturally arises. When the psyche understands this, recollection happens automatically. Stillness becomes the preferred state. From here, the spiritual journey becomes simple.

If one understands this experientially — not verbally or mentally — then it becomes clear that stillness cannot be created. One can only allow it. One can become still only by surrendering completely to nature. This surrender is not bodily; it is intellectual. And in that surrender, effortless living reveals itself.