SAAMAKSHI MEDIUM

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...

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...

There comes a moment in the soul’s journey when the veil thins just enough for truth to shimmer through. There’s a moment, often quiet and unannounced, when life pauses just long enough for us to feel the truth rising beneath the noise. And in that comes the question: Are you walking in Faith… or surviving in Fear? Most of us are taught to chase success through effort, strategy, timelines - Ferrari by 50, enlightenment by 40, marriage by 30. We’re handed goalposts and told,  “This is how life works.”  But the soul doesn’t care for charts and calendars. It doesn’t tick boxes. It  blooms . You were not created to follow a formula. You were created to awaken to your own divine design. Somewhere deep inside, you already know, that the way you will succeed, love, heal, or rise… won’t look like anyone else’s. And that’s the point. Your journey is sacred. Your timing is precise. There is nothing about you that is accidental. But fear tells you otherwise. Fear says,  “What i...

  The Mind Thinks It Knows. The Soul Just Is. We live most of our lives thinking we are choosing. That we are behaving, deciding, reacting out of fresh free will. But beneath the surface, something quieter is at work — something older. The subconscious, which has watched every move, every disappointment, every praise, every survival tactic. It’s built a map. A blueprint. A formula it believes keeps you safe. And it runs the show. You believe you're making new choices, but more often, you're repeating the same ones — just dressed in different names. Different jobs. Different people. Different clothes, same pattern. You want to feel free, but your steps are already rehearsed. You’ve walked them so many times that they now feel like home. But are they? What we call safety is often just predictability. We’ve convinced ourselves that familiar discomfort is better than unknown possibility. We follow routines, replay conversations, assume outcomes — not because they serve us, but beca...

Have you ever noticed how some people seem to move through life effortlessly? Their plans work out, they get what they aim for, and things just seem to align for them. They’re not always deeply spiritual or endlessly self-reflective. They’re not constantly reading books about healing or manifesting under the full moon. And yet, somehow, they seem to get it right. It’s tempting to think they’re lucky or that their stars are better aligned. But really, what they have is clarity. And more than that, they trust themselves. They don’t sit for weeks doubting what they already know. They don’t need to collect twenty signs before taking one small step. They aren’t at war with their own intuition. They hear what their inner voice is saying and they listen. That trust becomes a frequency they move in. And life responds, not because they’re doing something magical, but because they’re in alignment with themselves. We often forget how energetic life is. Everything around us responds to how we trea...

Every now and then, someone will tell me, “I’m tired of thinking positive. It feels fake, like I’m lying to myself.” And I always pause before I respond, because I remember exactly what that feels like. I remember when I first started my journey with affirmations. I plastered sticky notes all over my mirror :  I am enough, I am worthy, I am loved.  I wanted to believe them so badly. But some mornings, I’d look into my own eyes and feel nothing. Or worse, resistance. That quiet voice inside would whisper,  stop bullshitting yourself.  And that voice… that was the real block. Not the lack of affirmations. But the presence of disbelief. Because if deep within you, there’s still a knot of old stories -  I’m not lovable. I’m not capable. Good things don’t happen to people like me,  then no matter how many times you repeat a beautiful sentence, it won’t land. It’s like pouring water over concrete, hoping something will grow. That’s when I learned: positive though...

There’s something both tragic and beautiful about how seriously we take ourselves. Every high, every heartbreak, every tiny win on a Tuesday — we hold them close like precious proof that we’re truly living. We celebrate, sulk, spiral, perform. We move through joy and despair as though they define us. And for a moment, they do. But what if it’s all just a play? Not to dismiss the beauty or the ache. Both are real in their own time. But what if pride, sorrow, laughter, longing — all of it — were just the costumes of being human? Experiences to pass through, not homes to live in. The truth is no matter what role you’re playing today, you’re also the one watching it unfold. And that watcher — still, aware, unchanging — is where freedom begins. Freedom is not in avoiding emotion. It’s in knowing it’s not you. It’s in being able to laugh gently at your own emotional weather without letting it storm inside you. We often think choice is grand. Choosing careers, partners, new cities....

We love the idea of the “gut feeling” That silent whisper of intuition That sacred signal from within that tells us which road to take What if it’s simply data = memories, patterns, conditioning, wrapped in the illusion of instinct. There is only this. The present choice You become deliberate, not reactive You learn to wait. To observe. To choose We don’t need certainty. We need presence Not the flutter in your stomach But the calm in your choosing. Think of a recent decision you said was based on a “gut feeling.” Ask: What did I already know that may have shaped that feeling? Was I responding, or just recognizing? But pause for a moment What if that gut feeling isn’t divine guidance It feels sacred because it arrives without explanation. But not everything inexplicable is mystical. Often, it’s just processed information our conscious mind hasn’t yet caught up with. Every feeling you call “gut” is stitched together from a million impressions you’ve gathered. Childhood pat...

What would you do if you were no longer afraid? If your bank account were full, your family cared for, your future sealed in the soft certainty of enough, what then? Would you still run? Would you wake with the same urgency? Would you check your phone within seconds, race through breakfast, and offer your peace as payment for ambition? Or would you pause? Would you remember what light feels like on your skin? Would you sit beside a window, or pick up something you left behind years ago : an old paintbrush, a poem, a dream? They say, “Do what you love.” But love is not loud. It doesn’t compete for attention. It lives in quiet corners and asks only for your presence. The problem is not that people don’t want to live meaningfully, it’s that they’re tired. Tired from running in circles that promise everything and give back so little of what matters. You hear it often: “If I had enough money, I’d do nothing.” But what they mean is:  I want to stop surviving. They long not for stillness,...

If I asked you,  “Tell me about yourself,”  what would you say? You might smile politely and begin listing the usual things: your name, your job, where you live, maybe what you like to do on weekends. And I’d nod, of course. But what if I gently asked again: No titles No roles No labels No timelines No definitions Now, tell me about yourself. It’s not such an easy question anymore, is it? We spend so much of our lives being introduced to ourselves through the eyes of the world. We are told who we are, how to be, what to become. We build ourselves around labels like stones: daughter, manager, Hindu, artist, overachiever, dreamer. We begin to think these bricks are the house. But they’re just the outer walls. The deeper truth of who you are is not in your bio or résumé or in the roles you juggle with grace each day. It's not in what you do or what you believe. It's not even in the stories you’ve told yourself to make sense of your life. So, who are you underneath? What remains w...

There comes a moment, often subtle, often inconvenient, when you’re staring at an organisational chart, a power matrix, a hierarchy carved in lines and titles, and something shifts. You realise: Everyone wants respect. But not the kind that once came with titles or seating order or income brackets. Not the kind that stood on a podium and looked down. Not anymore. The hunger now is for something more elusive: A respect that feels like reverence. A presence that isn’t bought but felt. Not fear cloaked as obedience, But something softer, something kinder. And so, the question arises: Do we want respect, or do we crave control? Are we commanding reverence, or are we demanding submission? Too often, what we label as leadership is a theatre of dominance, Where voices are lowered to assert, not to listen. Where tone becomes a weapon. Where we build walls instead of bridges Because we’ve confused power with being feared. But what if we flipped the script? What if power lived in how gently we c...

We are taught early to seek fairness, as if the world runs on equal measure. Do good, and good will return. Offer kindness, and it will be returned in kind. We chase this invisible symmetry like a rhythm we’re meant to dance in, and when the beat slips, when something feels off, we call it unfair. We blame the world, or power, or systems. But sometimes the imbalance isn’t out there. It’s in what we hold back. We think fairness lives in rules, in being right, in keeping peace. But much of what we call peace is just unspoken tension. Quiet avoidance. We soften our words to be palatable. We laugh when something stings. We lower our voice when it should rise. Not because we don’t see the wrong, but because we fear what happens if we name it. We hold ourselves back. Not for their sake, but because deep down, we don’t yet trust that our truth will be met with love. When we do not trust ourselves, we look at others through that same lens. Every silence feels loaded. Every misstep, betrayal. W...