Giving Myself Carte Blanche


What does it mean to give oneself carte blanche without becoming irresponsible? In this reflective piece, I explore a deeply personal decision: to spend most of the day in deliberate solitude. Not as withdrawal. Not as rebellion. But as a conscious turning inward.

Rooted in the wisdom of Nisargadatta Maharaj, this practice centers on abiding in the simple yet profound sense of “I am.” Beyond roles, beyond relationships, beyond achievements—what remains when one rests in bare awareness?

This inward freedom does not violate the moral boundary articulated by Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes Jr.: “The right to swing my fist ends where the other man’s nose begins.” Instead, it is an experiment in inner sovereignty—an attempt to discover whether sustained attention to the “I am” can transform not only solitude, but relationship, responsibility, and presence itself.

Is solitude an escape, or the highest form of engagement with truth?

Why I Have Gone Into Seclusion


In this candid reflection, Sam opens up about stepping away from social chatter and phone calls—not out of indifference, but as an act of quiet rebellion against the noise of life. He muses that most of our problems arise from the restless mind and its endless buzz, which we often mistake for living. Through this introspective note, he invites readers to pause, sip coffee at sunset, and ponder whether peace begins where the “I, Me, Mine” ends. Honest, humorous, and deeply meditative, Sam’s farewell is less a goodbye and more a gentle nudge toward inner stillness.

A Journey from Worldly Noise to the Quiet of Consciousness


I no longer seek guidance from heart or mind, for both belong to the restless play of duality. Instead, I turn inward, where Advaita Vedanta reveals the true relief of emptiness: the Self as pure awareness, untouched by sorrow or delight. Solitude is not misanthropy but clarity—a freedom from humoring the world’s illusions. To abide in stillness is to realize that the knower of light and darkness is itself eternal.

I WISH TO ABANDON WORDS FOR THE MOST PART


Ramana Maharshi reminds us that silence alone can reveal the whole truth. Words, bound to duality, divide what is indivisible; silence unites and liberates. Even seekers well-versed in scriptures often remain entangled in the world of appearances, missing the essence. True teaching, as Ramana showed, does not lie in dialogue but in presence—in the quiet where the Self shines unobstructed. Silence is not emptiness but fullness, the eternal ground of being. To rest in it is to discover that truth is not attained but simply lived.