Namaste…

I long believed that each of us possesses the power to shape our destiny by our own hands, much like a baker firmly grips the dough, molding it through sheer will and reshaping it with the sharpness of his mind. For years—decades, in fact—I lived within this illusion. I was convinced that I was the master of this stage, standing at its center, playing the role of the hero, while life itself bowed to my performance, submitting to the tyranny of my will.

Until time itself came to a halt at a decisive moment, when the role of the hero dimmed, and I collapsed upon the stage. It was that very moment when life confronted me with its majestic face—the face that strips the soul bare before its own truth, revealing it as it is, without pretense.

I recall now the harshness of that experience. Yet it was the harshness of a compassionate mother toward her wayward child: a sternness imbued with mercy, carrying within it enough wisdom to strip a person of the rigidity of thought and inherited belief. A sternness that reshapes the human being anew, polishing him once more, so that he may return as a child—crossing in innocence into the Kingdom of Heaven.

This experience was my first baptism: the moment of crossing from the illusion of control into the vastness of surrender. Perhaps The Divine Comedy itself took it upon its shoulders to tame me—this cosmic play into which I entered believing myself the hero—only to unveil, in a moment of revelation, that it was teaching me to laugh at the illusions I had crafted with my own hands, and at the arrogance of a knowledge I mistook for certainty. Divine providence, it seemed, was gently playing with me, allowing me to stumble so that I might see.

Only then did I realize—late, as great truths are always realized—that we do not choose the path; the path chooses us.

Thus began the story.

The beginning was in India, when destiny carried me there, to a land I never once imagined I would tread upon. It was as though I did not reach it by will alone, but by a subtle attraction—an inner call that led me, unknowingly, to where the path itself was waiting for me.

In Indian philosophy, this calling is named vasana: a deep inclination arising from profound layers of the unconscious, drawing one toward what prepares them for a revelation they did not know they were ready to receive. And so I found myself in India in 2013, not as a traveler wandering through a new country, but as a seeker excavating the inner meanings concealed within the secret folds of language.

The Sign That Caught My Attention

From the moment I arrived, I felt as though I were entering a space my soul recognized—something it had known long ago, then lost to the depths of forgetting. Amid the abundance of faces, colors, and sounds, what struck me was neither the noise nor the rituals, but a simple gesture repeated everywhere: palms pressed together near the heart, a gaze uniting gentleness and humility—Namaste. A slight bow, as if saluting the sanctity that resides within the other.

At first, I regarded it as a cultural courtesy, an effort to respect the customs of one’s host. But slowly, something deeper began to unveil itself.

The Stage of the Mind

The first stage of my experience in India was purely mental. I stood before this spiritual heritage armed with an analytical mind hungered for understanding. I measured and compared, weighing what I encountered there against the exclusively Abrahamic spiritual legacy I carried within me. I sought meaning through reason alone, unaware then that the treasuries of the spirit do not open their doors to those who knock with thought alone.

Only later would I discover that the mind can observe a truth, but cannot taste it; can describe the path, but cannot walk it. Understanding begins in the mind, but revelation begins elsewhere.

The Shift From Concept to Experience

Transformation did not begin with books, nor with analysis, but with the quiet presence of a man named Palpandian—a man sparing in words, yet overflowing with stillness that spoke more eloquently than any sermon. In his presence, my understanding of Namaste transformed. It ceased to be a ritual gesture and became an act of embodied presence. When he brought his palms together before his heart, he was not greeting the name or role of a person, but acknowledging the divine secret dwelling within them.

I learned much from him, but the first lesson that left its imprint into my heart was his saying:

“Whoever does not see the light within himself will never behold it in others.”

And I remember his words clearly:

“Within you is a luminous essence that perceives what your thoughts cannot reach and your mind cannot contain. When you grant your full attention to this silent guidance, the nearest path to truth unfolds—because then you cease resisting life, and begin harmonizing with the rhythm of its dance.”

From the Outer to the Inner of the Inner: When Does Namaste Become Alive?

Palpandian taught me that the difference between performing Namaste and living Namaste lies not in the gesture itself, but in its inner source. A movement that does not rise from depth cannot touch depth. When intention, feeling, mind and body unite, Namaste becomes a greeting that touches the heart, and the human being himself becomes a witness rather than a mere performer.

Pressing the palms together and bowing the head can be done mechanically, from memory. Namaste, however, is the movement enacted by the totality of one’s being, not by thought alone. It is an act of remembrance, and a surrender to the concealed light within each of us.

Embodiment

Pal teaches that when the body joins the mind in perception, action becomes lived experience, and movement becomes a doorway into awareness. At the heart of his guidance lies a simple truth: in non-duality, there is no separation between mind and body.

Pal teaches that the body is the anchor of awareness, the ground that keeps perception honest and whole. To be embodied, he says, is to allow insight to arise through presence, and direct experience rather than mental analysis. Through this integration, understanding is no longer an idea in the mind but a truth lived through the whole being.

When We Worship God Yet Deny Him in Creation

Often, we encounter people who consider themselves among the “chosen,” withdrawing into narrow circles or isolating themselves from others, believing that their relationship with God alone matters, and that they worship Him perfectly. Yet reality exposes a subtle illusion: their worship drifts into separation from creation, instead of a living presence inside it.

The Qur’an points to this symbolic meaning in the story found in Surah Al-Baqarah, verse 34:

“And when We said to the angels, ‘Prostrate to Adam,’ they prostrated—except for Iblis (Satan). He refused and became arrogant and was among the disbelievers.”

Iblis did not reject the worship of God; he failed to see God manifested in creation. He separated Creator from created, worship from love.

On a deeper symbolic level, Iblis is not an external being detached from humanity, but a shadow of unconsciousness dwelling within the human soul—the inner voice that refuses to recognize the divine light in the other. Every human carries this Iblis-like seed, whenever they worship God with the mind yet cannot bow to Him with the heart.

This, precisely, is the core of the human dilemma: to know God intellectually while failing to live Him through the heart. True unity is not fulfilled by thought alone, but by love that sees God in everything. Whoever closes their heart to creation closes it to the Creator—for one who does not see God in beings has not yet truly known Him.

As Ibn Arabi said:

“The prostration of the heart is the witnessing of the Truth in every face.”

And the Qur’an says:

“Wherever you turn, there is the Face of God.”

Returning to the Beginning… With New Eyes

Today, I return to Raed of 2013—the young man who performed the movement without touching its inner dimension. Namaste has now become an act of inner revelation, a living connection to the sanctity of the divine self slumbering within all human souls, even when veiled by the fog of illusion, isolation, and individuality.

Namaste reshaped my path and my understanding of non-duality, and I found myself resonating with Ibn Arabi’s words:

“You will grasp nothing of religion if you fail to honor all of creation. Do not look down on any being, for every creature bears the imprint of the One who created it.”

And finally… Namaste to the sacred Siddha lineage that carried me from the shell of doctrine to the eye of truth.

Namaste to my beloved teacher Palpandian—without his patience and love, I would not have touched that sacred place within my own spirit.

Namaste to all the saints and faithful friends who lit my path and stood beside me through every moment of darkness and doubt.

And Namaste to all who crossed my life, without dividing them into good or bad. The gentle and the hurtful alike were mirrors on my path, silent teachers in my journey toward inner wholeness.

Perhaps this is the true meaning of Namaste: to see God in every face, and to bow in reverence to what the Creator has placed within every heart.