Sadhguru explains his Beyond the Body experience in a Sadhguru Sannidhyan at Rudraprayag. He said the divine is not a distant force, but the essence that flows within us, waiting for the moment we open our eyes to its presence. In the embrace of the infinite, there is no 'I,' only the pure, blissful realization of oneness with all existence.
Article | October 10, 1999
Sadhguru: The sky was aflame with the vibrant hues of twilight, casting a surreal glow over Rudraprayag. The sacred confluence of the Alakananda and Mandakini rivers lay before me, their waters merging in a divine embrace that seemed to hum with a pearl of ancient, unspoken wisdom. The air was crisp, the soft murmur of the river the only sound breaking the profound silence of the evening. The distant peaks of the Himalayas, bathed in the last light of the sun, stood like silent sentinels, guarding the secrets of the cosmos.
I was weary from my journey toward Kedarnath, and my body yearned for rest. On the banks of the Alakananda, a simple, timeworn kutir (hermitage) stood in quiet isolation, the abode of an aged sage who had long renounced the distractions of the world. He was a man of few words, his silence deeper than any conversation could ever be. When I approached, he nodded in recognition, as if he had been expecting me, and gestured toward his humble abode.
The moment I stepped inside, I was enveloped by a sense of timelessness. The kutir was small, with mud walls and a thatched roof that seemed to blend seamlessly with the earth itself. A solitary hurricane lamp flickered in the corner, casting a soft, golden light that danced like fireflies on the walls. There was an unmistakable presence of stillness, as though the very air was imbued with the power of countless hours of sadhana.
I bolted the wooden door, separating myself from the external world, knowing that this night would be spent in deep meditation. The scent of incense still lingered faintly, mingling with the fresh, earthy smell of the riverbank. I adjusted the hurricane lamp’s wick, increasing its glow, then seated myself in Siddhasana, ready to surrender to the inner journey that awaited me.
True vision is not of the eyes, but of the soul, where the formless takes shape in the light of boundless consciousness.
The Invocation of the Guru
As I settled into the stillness, I invoked my Guru with every fibre of my being. His image came to mind as clearly as if he were standing before me. The moment his presence filled my consciousness, something within me stirred. The air around me seemed to thrum with energy, and a deep vibration resonated through my body—a powerful, pulsating force that rippled through my entire being. It wasn’t just a sensation; it was as though I had tapped into the very essence of the cosmos, the primal hum that reverberates through all creation.
I focused on the vibration, allowing it to guide me deeper into my meditation. With each passing moment, the boundary between my physical body and the world around me began to dissolve. I could no longer feel the weight of my limbs or the coldness of the air that had begun to creep in. The body was still, but my awareness had expanded far beyond its confines. I was no longer just sitting there; I was hovering above, observing my own body as though it were a separate entity.
When you surrender to the flow of life, like the river, you become one with the source from which all things arise.
Beyond the Body
And then it happened—a moment of profound realization. I had left my body. There, before me, sat my motionless form, cross-legged in perfect Siddhasana, like a statue carved from stone. I was not afraid, nor was I in awe. Instead, there was a sense of serene detachment, an understanding that I had transcended the limitations of the physical form. I was pure consciousness, free from the constraints of the body and the material world.
In this state, I began to move—swiftly, effortlessly—through realms that seemed to exist far beyond the physical. Time and space no longer apply to me. I was floating, traversing planes of existence that shimmered with a light so pure, so radiant, it was beyond description. The energy around me was alive, vibrating with a frequency that resonated deep within my soul. I felt as though I was being pulled toward something vast, something infinite.
One realm after another passed before me, each more ethereal than the last. The worlds I journeyed through were not bound by the laws of physics or matter. They were made of light, of pure consciousness. The very fabric of these realms seemed to hum with an ancient knowledge, a wisdom far beyond human comprehension.
The Divine Light of Shiva
Finally, I arrived in a realm bathed in a divine, piercing light. As my eyes adjusted to this overwhelming radiance, I beheld the ultimate form of Shiva. He stood before me, but not as the familiar ascetic. This was a vision of unparalleled magnificence—Shiva with twenty-five heads, seventy-five eyes, and fifty arms. And beside Him, seated on a blossomed lotus, was the goddess, His consort, embodying the eternal feminine. The sight was beyond words, beyond comprehension, leaving me utterly speechless. A profound wave of energy coursed through my entire being, filling me with an indescribable sense of divine completeness.
His form was made entirely of light, a radiant figure that stretched out into infinity, merging with the very essence of the cosmos. There were no boundaries, no definitions—just pure, boundless energy. He was both the stillness and the movement, the void and the creation, the destroyer and the preserver, all at once. In His presence, I felt the pulsating force that governs the universe, the rhythm of creation and dissolution.
An illustration of Param Shiva the absolute consciousness
Time ceased to exist at that moment. I was enveloped in a sense of infinite peace, a bliss so profound that it erased all traces of my individual identity. There was no "I," no separation—only the realization that I was part of this cosmic dance, this eternal flow of energy that we call life. In that instant, I understood that Shiva was not a deity residing in some distant realm; He was the very essence of existence itself, the source from which everything emanates and into which everything dissolves.
How long I remained in that state, I do not know. It could have been moments, or it could have been eons. Time had lost all meaning in the presence of the divine.
In every breath of silence, there is a doorway to the divine, a chance to touch the vastness that lies within.
The Return to the Body
Eventually, I felt a gentle pull, as if the universe itself was guiding me back to the physical world. Slowly, my awareness began to shift, and I found myself returning to my body. The journey back was not abrupt but gradual, like a feather falling through layers of air. The ethereal realms I had passed through folded away, one by one, until I was back in the humble kutir, seated in Siddhasana.
When I opened my eyes, the world had changed. Dawn was breaking, and the soft light of the early morning sun filtered through the cracks in the kutir’s walls. The hurricane lamp had long since burnt out, and the air inside was cool, almost cold. My body, which had remained in stillness for what felt like an eternity, was stiff and chilled, but I felt an inner warmth, a glow that came from a place beyond the physical.
The sense of peace that filled me in that moment was unlike anything I had ever known. I sat there for a long time, motionless, absorbing the magnitude of what I had just experienced. My body was back in this world, but my soul had touched the infinite. I had crossed the threshold between life and death, between the finite and the eternal, and returned with a deeper understanding of the vastness of existence.
It was only much later that I realized what had happened—I had experienced the separation of the soul from the body. It was a moment of transcendence, a glimpse into the boundless nature of the self, beyond the limitations of time, space, and form. I had seen the divine, and that vision had forever changed me.
Reflections at Rudraprayag
As I sit here today, sharing this experience with you, the memory of that night is as vivid as ever. It wasn’t just a vision—it was a journey, a profound awakening to the truth that lies beyond the veil of the material world. The divine is not some distant, unreachable force. It is here, within us, waiting for the moment when we are ready to see beyond the illusions of the physical realm.
The banks of the Alakananda have witnessed countless sadhanas, countless seekers who have come here in search of the ultimate truth. And it is here, in this sacred space, that I remind you: the journey inward is the greatest journey of all. In every breath, in every moment of stillness, you are connected to that infinite source, the divine that resides within.
Let the river of life flow through you as effortlessly as the Alakananda flows toward the ocean, carrying with it the wisdom of the mountains. And remember, the divine is not something to be sought—it is something to be realized, something to be experienced. It is always within reach, just waiting for you to awaken to its presence.
With those words, the Sadhguru fell silent, his eyes gazing into the distance where the first rays of sunlight kissed the peaks of the Himalayas. The disciples sat in quiet reverence, absorbing the profound wisdom he had shared, each one feeling the subtle pull of the divine, calling them deeper into their own journey of sadhana.
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