Love, Strength, Transformation, and Stillness: A Journey Through Devotion and Balance
January 4th, 2025
This trip feels like a divine orchestration—a weaving together of Krishna, Hanuman, Kali, and Shiva. Each deity reflects a unique energy, a guiding force on this journey of devotion and self-discovery: love, strength, transformation, and stillness. Yet as I dive deeper
into their energies, I’m reminded that growth must be balanced with presence—the ability to truly listen to my body and spirit.
Today was a difficult day. Navigating the pain in my body, specifically my hands and wrists, has been challenging. The pain feels all-consuming at times, and it’s especially difficult because it affects my ability to play the instruments I came here to play. I feel like the pain demands to be felt, but I can’t quite tell where it’s coming from or where it’s going. It’s not just physical—it’s emotional. And when I try to lean into the sensations, a flood of other feelings rises to the surface.
I’ve also noticed myself eating more than usual during the day, and while the food is healthy and made with love and bhakti, the control element of the eating disorder (notice I’m not calling it my eating disorder anymore) feels overwhelming at times. By eating too much, I mean that back home, I would usually only eat pickles and seaweed before 5 PM, then consume an entire day’s worth of calories before dinner, going to bed feeling sick and stuffed. Here, my eating pattern is different, and though I know the portions are modest and the food is nourishing, the voice in my head tells me I’m doing it wrong. Not knowing exactly what’s in the food, or having many choices as a vegan and gluten-free eater, makes me feel out of control.
But the truth is, this isn’t about the food. It’s about control—or, more specifically, my lack of it.
Between the bhakti, the asana, learning a new instrument, adjusting to India, meeting new people, and processing so many emotions, it feels like everything is rising to the surface all at once. For the first time in months, I’m getting some alone time—real silence. Living with my parents for the past five months has been overstimulating for someone as sensitive as I am, and now, in the quiet moments here, I feel the waves of emotions I couldn’t process before coming up fast and hard.
There’s so much. Processing the remnants of a breakup with someone I’m still friends with and care deeply about. Dealing with new feelings of attraction to someone else and questioning if I even have the capacity to pursue an intimate connection again. The pain in my body. The loneliness I try to numb by putting in my AirPods, walking by the lake in the dark, hoping no one will talk to me. Oversharing out of anxiety. Crying at the back of the kirtans because I’m overwhelmed with feelings I can’t name.
And at the root of it all, this lingering thought: I don’t feel enough.
For so long, I thought my enoughness would come from losing weight. But it was never enough. I could always be skinnier, prettier, better. During satsang the other morning, Raghunath said something that hit me hard: “Changing your body is not changing your consciousness.” It’s so true. My practice requires discipline, but at this point, it feels like my monkey mind is the one in need of true discipline. And yet, the idea of sitting in silence terrifies me. I know a consistent meditation practice is likely the answer, but on a trauma level, I’m not sure I’m ready for what might arise in that stillness.
But I’m ready for change. I don’t want to feel sad like this forever. I don’t want to feel unseen, unchosen, or undervalued—though I recognize those are human desires. I want to step into my new form. I don’t know what it’s going to take, but I’m ready to level up.
I ask for guidance to lead me beyond these selfish desires and the selfish skin I feel trapped in. I want to transcend these cycles of doubt, sadness, and attachment.
A Moment of Devotion at the Hanuman Temple
In the midst of these overwhelming feelings, I visited the Hanuman temple today. I got down on my knees and prayed, surrendering everything I’ve been holding onto. It was such a grounding moment—just me, Hanuman, and my heart laid bare. On my way out, I noticed a group of beautiful Indian women gardening in vibrant sarees and traditional gowns. There was something so graceful about their presence, as if every movement was filled with
purpose. It reminded me how India has the ability to turn even the most mundane acts into offerings of service and devotion.
It made me pause and reflect on how often I take those “mundane” moments for granted in my own life. Whether it’s gardening, cooking, or simply breathing, there’s an invitation in every moment to turn our actions into a prayer.
Love: Krishna’s Call to the Heart
Krishna embodies the bliss of divine love and joy. He teaches me that devotion is not only found in effort but also in surrender. This morning, showing up to satsang felt like aligning with Krishna’s playful yet profound energy—a reminder that love is about showing up fully, both for the divine and for myself.
As we sang kirtan, we called out for truth (which is essentially what singing is). Between songs, we reflected on the sweetness of Krishna—how he infuses everything he does with love. Even before the sun rose, we recognized the sweetness in the mundane, which is ultimately a reflection of the sweetness in our own hearts. But Krishna also whispers that love begins with presence, and sometimes, love is about resting in the sweetness of what is rather than striving for what that sweetness could be.
Strength: Hanuman’s Gift of Devotion
Hanuman represents the courage to serve and the faith to persevere. His energy inspires me to rise above limitations and show up even when discomfort arises. This morning’s yoga class was physically intense—amazing but demanding. I had to find the balance between challenging myself and modifying the flow to honor my body.
I caught myself hesitating to take modifications, worried others might think I was “lazy” or copping out. But then I paused to ask: Are these truly the thoughts of others, or are they my own projections? Hanuman teaches that true strength is rooted in humility. It’s not about forcing or pushing through pain but about aligning strength with devotion. Today, I’m asking myself: Can I honor Hanuman’s determination while listening to the wisdom that resides in the sacred temple of my body?
Transformation: Kali’s Fierce Wisdom
Kali, the goddess of destruction and rebirth, invites me to embrace the discomfort of growth. She asks me to look beyond my physical pain and question what I’m holding onto: old patterns, attachments, fears.
During yoga, I broke down in tears. The teacher, trained by Ana Forrest, embodied a fierce Kali-like archetype. Navigating the physical challenges on the mat brought up a deeply internal practice—one that had little to do with the asanas themselves. Kali’s energy is raw but liberating, a reminder that transformation requires courage. Am I brave enough to let go of my need to control or achieve? Can I surrender to the process of change, trusting that Kali’s destruction is always followed by rebirth?
Stillness: Shiva’s Eternal Presence
Shiva, the lord of stillness and transcendence, completes this divine composition. He reminds me that in the midst of love, strength, and transformation, there must be space for silence—for simply being. Shiva’s energy feels like the pause between breaths, the quiet knowing that all things are unfolding as they should. While Krishna moves through joy, Hanuman through action, and Kali through intensity, Shiva rests in eternal stillness. He teaches me that true power lies not in doing, but in being.
As I lay in savasana, I practiced what it might feel like to die. I reflected on the impermanence of everything and how my attachments—especially my attachment to pleasure—root me in cycles of pain. Shiva invites me to witness my pain, not as something to fix, but as something to hold in stillness. Can I trust this silence? Can I let go of the need to analyze or solve and simply rest in Shiva’s quiet wisdom?
The Balance Between Growth and Rest
As I reflect on these divine energies, I realize they are not separate—they exist together in every moment. Krishna calls me to love, Hanuman inspires strength, Kali demands transformation, and Shiva invites stillness. The challenge lies in discerning which energy I need most at any given time.
Today, I’m learning to trust: to trust my body, my intuition, and the divine unfolding of this journey. Whether I’m showing up in effort or resting in stillness, I know that each moment holds its own sacred wisdom. And that, I realize, is the essence of eternal practice.
To sum it up:
To anyone reading this, I invite you to explore these energies within yourself. How do Krishna’s love, Hanuman’s strength, Kali’s transformation, and Shiva’s stillness show up in your life? How can you honor all of these forces as you navigate your own balance between growth and rest? Let’s walk this sacred path together, guided by their divine presence.
I hope you find everything you’re looking for. Until then, enjoy the ride.
With love and gratitude,
Eve (AKA Kali Grayce)
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