CONNECT | GROW | TRANSFORM

Here, I explore that vision: the dream of the world, the seeker’s questions, the illusion of separation, and the ultimate awakening to the timeless Self — the silent sky within which all appearances shine and dissolve.

At this point, it’s worth asking: if polyunsaturated seed oils and plant sterols disrupt red blood cells, fuel oxidation, promote inflammation, and crystallise in plaques — then why are they still recommended as “cardioprotective”?

The demonization of saturated fat wasn't malice but a cascade: panic-fueled hypothesis, flawed cornerstone study, buried null results, and politicized policy. Vegetable oil industries lobbied (visiting scientists to yank papers), while a small cadre controlled grants and journals, stifling dissent.

When you drastically reduce your Calories In, your body does not just sit there and accept the deficit. It enacts a powerful survival response called metabolic adaptation or adaptive thermogenesis. You reduce Calories In, and your body reduces Calories Out.

The balance of effort (practice) and detachment (dispassion) parallels modern concepts in psychology: behavioural conditioning and cognitive distancing. The yogic insight here is that training alone is not enough — without inner detachment, practice becomes mechanical; without practice, detachment remains theoretical.

When the yogi masters these layers, what happens? The brainstem no longer shouts for survival, the limbic system no longer floods the mind with fear, and the prefrontal cortex ceases its endless strategising. The whole triune brain becomes a quiet instrument.

If our lives hinge on memories—real, imagined, or ephemeral—then what is reality? A collective hallucination? A neurological glitch in an indifferent cosmos? And if Alzheimer's or a rogue dream can dissolve it all, why persist? What purpose animates our striving—the careers we chase, the bonds we nurture, the dreams we dare? Why should we do anything when the ground beneath us is quicksand?

Every decision you make — what to eat, whether to snack, how much to serve — draws on this limited pool of cognitive energy. Psychologists call this decision fatigue: the more choices you face, the weaker your self-control becomes. This is why dieting is so hard. You’re not only fighting hunger hormones and cravings, you’re draining a limited mental resource dozens of times a day. And when it runs out, biology takes over.

If a calorie is not a calorie — if we can’t reliably know how much of it is absorbed, how much is lost in digestion, and what its metabolic fate will be — then how would anyone know how many calories to cut?

And if a calorie is not a calorie — if we can’t reliably know how much of it is absorbed, how much is lost in digestion, and what its metabolic fate will be — then how would anyone know how many calories to cut? Are people expected to constantly battle with calorie math, obsess over every bite, track every number on an app, and then feel guilty for “going over” — even though the body never sees those calories the way the food label does?