Meditation and The Burning Present Moment
In the unfolding journey of spiritual life, there comes a present moment when the shimmering ideal of awakening begins to take on the weight of reality. At first, we are filled with enthusiasm. We read Autobiography of a Yogi, we meditate with fresh devotion, and we long for the Real. But somewhere along the way, we enter what a friend recently called “the icky middle”—that strange, tender place where the early inspiration meets the work of transformation.
In that middle ground, we discover that the spiritual path is not merely about blissful moments or mystical insights—it’s about endurance, sincerity, and devotion to truth. We realize, sometimes painfully, that we cannot stay the same. To experience what is Real demands that we relinquish the small, familiar sense of “me” and step into something much larger, much more alive.
By: Ryan Kurczak
This article was made possible by our Kriya Yoga Online Patreon Community.
It’s one thing to say we want to experience the divine. It’s another to accept what that truly means. The spiritual path is not a hobby or a mood; it’s a restructuring of consciousness itself. It takes work, attention, and commitment.
In truth, everything meaningful does. Whether we’re building a career, raising a family, or nurturing a deep relationship, lasting fulfillment asks for endurance. Those who continually chase novelty—jumping from one teacher or technique to another, from one relationship or career to the next—often do so because they have not yet learned to rest in the steady warmth of what is real.
The same holds true in spiritual life. Depth comes from staying with the process when the glamour fades, when enthusiasm burns off, and when what’s left is the quiet practice of showing up day after day. Only then do we begin to sense the texture of something eternal moving underneath the surface.
Many seekers believe they are already present. But real presence, when it dawns, is startlingly different from what we imagine. It is not a mental concept but a direct, luminous contact with life as it actually is.
In my own practice, I’ve noticed that when I truly step into the present moment, it can feel almost painful at first. It’s as if I’ve been wearing the same layers of clothing for fifty years—stiff, dirty, and heavy—and then suddenly strip them away. The skin of awareness is raw, tender, exposed to the open air of truth.
This sensitivity is not a mistake; it’s the soul awakening from numbness. Just as a cave-dweller who emerges into sunlight must blink through the initial blindness before seeing the world’s beauty, we too must learn to endure the intensity of unfiltered awareness. That brightness can be overwhelming—but only because we’ve grown accustomed to shadows.
Plato’s allegory of the cave speaks deeply to this experience. Imagine having lived your whole life watching shadows on a wall, mistaking them for reality. One day, the chains that held you are broken, and you begin to crawl toward the light.
At first, the brightness stings. It’s too much. You want to turn back. And most do—they retreat to the safety of the familiar. But if you can stay, if you can bear that discomfort just a little longer, your eyes begin to adjust. You start to see shapes, colors, movement. You realize there is a whole world beyond shadow—a living reality that was there all along.
And once you’ve seen it, you can never truly return to the cave. You might still hear voices calling you back, but the heart knows: the shadows no longer satisfy. You’ve touched what is real, and the Real is now calling you forward.
There is grief in this process. As we move from shadow to light, from illusion to truth, something in us dies. We may mourn the familiar comforts of old identities, attachments, or the people who remain content in the cave. This grief is not a failure of spirituality—it is a sign of growth.
Letting go is an act of love. It is how the soul honors what once served its evolution while no longer being bound by it. The courage to grieve what’s passing makes space for the joy of what’s emerging. And in that openness, we begin to sense the subtle freshness of the divine moment—vivid, immediate, alive.
Every genuine path eventually brings us here: to a threshold where effort, faith, and surrender converge. In Kriya Yoga, we cultivate this through steady practice—through breath, mantra, study, and devotion. These are not ends in themselves but the chisels that carve open awareness.
There comes a time when those practices begin to bear fruit. The chains of karma loosen. The old compulsions lose their grip. And in meditation, there appears a subtle freedom—a lightness that whispers, You are no longer bound.
This is where the next work begins: learning to walk toward that light, to live from the awareness we’ve glimpsed. It is not about striving for mystical visions but about entering, again and again, into the radiant immediacy of the present moment—the burning core of consciousness itself.
For more information and a meditation practice session on this topic see Episode IS10 – The Burning Present Moment, released on October 30th, 2025 on The Kriya Yoga Podcast.
For books on Kriya Yoga Meditation – Kriya Yoga Books
For extensive classes on Kriya Yoga Meditation, Pranayama and Philosophy – Kriya Yoga Classes
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