SAAMAKSHI MEDIUM

You can contribute only when your cup is full. Others cannot fill it for you. And you cannot overflow if you are already running on empty. We grow up believing the opposite. That giving more will somehow make us whole. That love, work, purpose, or even another person will pour into us what we are missing. Slowly, without realising it, we outsource our fullness. We wait for someone to show up differently, for life to be kinder, for things to finally make sense. Until then, we keep giving from whatever is left. But an empty cup does not overflow. It only leaks. True contribution does not come from effort. It comes from abundance. When you are full, giving is not a sacrifice. It is a natural movement, like breath leaving the body. When you are empty, every act of giving costs you something. You begin to resent what once felt meaningful. You feel tired even when you are doing what you love. You start asking for returns, for recognition, for reassurance, because deep down you are borrowing ...

For so long, all the counsel, all the systems, and all the psychology, the endless well of self-help has sung the same seductive song: The answer is inside you. You must become the archaeologist of your own pain. Dig deep. Find the old wound. Fix it. Let it go. And so, obediently, every time you felt that familiar ache of rejection, that heavy blanket of sadness, or that sharp sting of being totally down, you dedicated yourself to the task. You sat down with a notebook, meticulously looking through old memories, mapping every trauma, every slight, every fear, always in search of the one thing: what you were doing wrong. But I am here, standing firmly at the water’s edge, to tell you, with the force of a fundamental truth: Stop the digging. Stop the analyzing. You are not the problem. I have come to completely disagree with the models that demand this intense, intellectual picking apart of the self. Here is the quiet realization I’ve received: The more you try to learn, t...

Let's be honest. We all secretly want to be the Gandalf in someone else’s life story. We want to swoop in, drop a pearl of hard-earned wisdom, and watch as their life dramatically rights itself, all thanks to our brilliant piece of unsolicited advice. We crave that "Aha! You changed my life!" moment. We want to be the wise, appreciated sage. But today, I’m going to tell you a little secret:  guiding someone who hasn't asked you for directions is the absolute worst form of love. It’s a toxic little cocktail, and here’s why. The Ego Trap For one, it’s entirely driven by ego. We feel a little bit superior, don't we? We think,  “Oh, if only they did what I did, they wouldn’t be making that mistake.”  That feeling of being "ahead" is a massive ego boost. We're telling them what to do because we genuinely believe we know better, even when they’re perfectly fine finding their own way. And two, when they inevitably don’t listen to your sage advice (because i...

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...

There comes a time in life when you begin to notice the invisible frameworks that shape how people live. Some follow the path of ambition, climbing ladders in the corporate world. Others dedicate themselves to family, to tradition, to holding together the roots of belonging. Some define themselves through culture, others through rebellion. Each way of living has its own rules, its own rhythm, its own sense of identity. They are like rivers flowing in different directions, and most of us are taught to pick one and stay in its current. Society whispers that you must belong somewhere, or risk being left behind. Most people settle into these currents without ever asking if they truly chose them. Comfortable rules are easier to follow. They give a sense of safety, of belonging, of certainty. The herd moves one way, and it feels secure to move with it. But comfort has a quiet cost. It lulls us into believing that the familiar is the only truth, that to question is dangerous, that to step asi...

There’s something quietly breaking inside many of us. We love, we try, we give. But something still feels off. Our relationships feel heavy. Effortful. We find ourselves misunderstanding, pulling away, or just… going through the motions. Why? Because somewhere along the way, we stopped honouring our  core,  our dharma. We forgot who we are at the deepest level, and began living from roles, patterns, expectations, and wounds. And when we forget who we are, how can we truly meet another? Shiva and Shakti are not just deities. They are energies. Archetypes. Reflections of  you  and  me . The masculine and feminine forces that exist in all things. In every one of us. Shiva is consciousness. Intention. The stillness. The structure. Shakti is energy. Emotion. Creation. The movement. The flow. One without the other is incomplete. Let’s make it simple. To create a child, you need both: Shiva’s seed and Shakti’s womb. One without the other cannot create life. But this ap...