SAAMAKSHI MEDIUM

Dear friends, Writing has always been my way of pausing, of listening within, and of sharing little reflections that life gifts me. Many of you have been part of this journey through my blog, and I’m so grateful for that love. I’m now happy to share my new book with you:  Life in 21 Essays : Short, soulful writings to slow down and rediscover what matters.  These essays are simple, heartfelt pieces that came to me naturally. Words you can read in a quiet moment, and maybe find a little of yourself in. If this resonates, I’d be so grateful for your support: Get it here:  Amazon.com Get it here:  Amazon.in With love and gratitude, Saamakshi

Think back to the last time you truly prayed. Not the hurried words under your breath before a meeting, not the casual “please help me” whispered on the way out the door - but real prayer. You stood, hands joined, eyes closed, heart open. What did you pray for? Chances are, you asked for something. Strength, love, acceptance. Healing for yourself or someone you care about. Protection, guidance, forgiveness. And there’s nothing wrong with that, yet, in that very asking, prayer often loses its essence. Because when we pray only to receive, it becomes pleading. We hand over our power to something outside ourselves, hoping that the Divine will fill the emptiness we imagine exists within us. So often, prayer becomes a kind of bargaining. We sit before God, list our troubles, and say, “Please fix this for me.” In that moment, we unknowingly shrink ourselves. We reduce prayer to pleading, as though the Divine were a distant authority and we were helpless children waiting to be rescued. But Go...

A wise man once said that a grudge is like a stone in the heart. Heavy. Cold. Silent, yet weighing us down in ways we can barely measure. We’ve all been told to forgive, to release, to let go. And so often, we convince ourselves that we have, because we stopped reacting, because we distanced ourselves, because we quietly send love from afar while still holding that invisible wall. But deep within, the story remains. The story of what they did, how they failed us, how they broke us, how we will never let it happen again. That story becomes the lens through which we see them, the script we hand them to act out every time they walk into our lives. And then we nod knowingly “see, I told you so.” But this is not forgiveness. This is not letting go. This is living in a prison of your own making . We cling to the saying “forgive but don’t forget,” not realizing that this is exactly what keeps us chained. Because if you don’t forget, if you don’t truly delete the story, then forgiveness is onl...

The most beautiful step you can take on your journey is not a grand one. It is not in reaching the highest peak, nor in hiding away in silence. It is something much simpler, much softer: a prayer whispered for someone else. A prayer for Mother Earth, who carries us so faithfully. Think of her for a moment. How she gives without asking anything in return. The fruits, the air, the rain, the flowers that bloom only to make us smile. She doesn’t demand thanks, yet still she gives. To pause and say,  thank you, Mother,  is to remember what unconditional love looks like. Then let your prayer travel outward. First to those closest to you, those whose faces live in your heart. Then let it drift wider: to the neighbor you don’t really know, to the stranger you passed on the street, even to the one who once hurt you. Not because you must excuse them, not because they were right, but because blessing them frees you. You can say:  thank you for the lesson, I release you now.  Im...

We’ve all heard the saying:  life is not the destination, it’s the journey. And yet, when it comes to spirituality, we often forget this. We make it about the finish line. We imagine moksha, enlightenment, awakening, or union with God as the ultimate end. But here is the paradox: the closer you walk toward it, the more you realize there is no end. Every time you reach what feels like the summit, another horizon reveals itself. Another mystery opens its arms. Moksha is not a destination. It is a doorway. The only thing that can ever end is our willingness to keep walking. The human mind loves boundaries. It wants to define, to box, to label. It says opportunities are scarce, reality is only what we can touch and see. But those who dare to wonder, who dare to remain in awe, discover that life is boundless. Infinite. A current that never stops flowing. One of my most cherished books,  The Book of Mirdad  by Mikhail Naimy, has a line that captures this beautifully:  “As ...

It came to me one day, as if whispered by the Divine, that there is nothing called control. There is nothing called not knowing. What we call “control” is only the mind clutching tightly at its own fears. And what we call “not knowing” is the refusal to trust that life already knows. I began to see how many times we all hide behind definitions:  I’m not confident enough. I’m not strong enough. I’ve always been this way.  But look deeper when you say,  “I’m not confident,”  aren’t you already confident in that very belief? You are holding it with such certainty. That was my aha moment: so many of the limitations we live with are not truths, but habits of thought. Habits are not just actions. They are identities we pick up, little stories we wear like clothes until we forget they are not our skin. Yet the moment you become aware, the spell breaks. You see that what you thought was “you” is simply a pattern, and patterns are malleable. Reality itself bends when your per...