Recently, I came across a special 20% discount offer for the Inner Engineering program by Sadhguru. For those who’ve never heard of it, this isn’t your usual self-help course. It’s something deeper—something that brings you face to face with yourself, your habits, your emotional blocks, and your inner potential.
It helped me. It really did.
So I thought—why not share it?
I sent it to my sister, Xandra. She lives the kind of life people post about—luxury, movement, nonstop goals, high society events, power-packed speeches, luxury cars, motivational one-liners, the whole thing. I figured, with all that external success, maybe something inward could help her too. Maybe she’d appreciate it. Maybe even say, “Let’s do it together.”
But what I got in return wasn’t support. It wasn’t interest. It was… energy. And not the good kind.
Ever since I sent her that link, strange things started happening. Déjà vu moments. Disturbed sleep. Mental noise. Thoughts that didn’t feel like mine. Emotional fatigue. It was as if I had opened a channel without meaning to, and now the feedback was draining me.
She never replied. Not a thank-you, not even a simple “I’ll think about it.”
And it wasn’t just her.
I reached out to Dev too. A guy I once respected for his drive. Always speaking from his cuff, full of leadership energy and strong opinions. I thought maybe, just maybe, this course would interest him. That he’d see the value in aligning inner engineering with outer action.
But again, nothing. Not even a curious question. Just “too busy.” Too absorbed in being busy to care.
Still, I didn’t stop there.
I posted the Inner Engineering link in a group chat. A quiet post. Just a gentle invitation, nothing aggressive. And then I watched, one by one, people leave the group. No discussion. No response. Just exits.
It was shocking at first. Like my message had offended them simply by existing. I stared at my screen, wondering if I did something wrong. All I had done was share something that meant something to me.
What followed was a quiet frustration. Not just about their silence, but the weight of it. The pattern was becoming clear: I was trying to offer something meaningful to people who weren’t interested. And worse, I was receiving invisible backlash for it.
The more I tried to help, the more disconnected I became.
I started to ask myself: Am I looking in the wrong place?
Trying to get people to care about their inner lives when they’re addicted to outer noise is like digging through hay to find a needle. Exhausting. Painful. And sometimes—pointless.
You can’t make someone wake up. You can’t force someone to value silence if they thrive on noise. You can’t offer growth to someone who sees every invitation as an attack.
I shared Inner Engineering because I believed in it. Not as a product. Not as a brand. But as a tool. Something that helped me find peace. And I wanted to pass that on.
But what I didn’t expect was resistance, avoidance, and energetic backlash from people I thought would be open-minded.
Maybe I was wrong about them.
Or maybe they’re just not ready.
That was a hard truth to accept.
But it's real.
Not everyone wants to dive deep. Not everyone wants to change. Some people are happy being busy, reactive, restless, or emotionally unavailable. Some people only care about appearances. Others just don’t see the value in something until life forces them to.
And trying to wake them up before they’re ready is like knocking on a door that no one’s home to open.
I’ve come to realize that this path I’m walking—of reflection, of discipline, of spiritual practice—it’s not something I can share with everyone. And that’s okay now.
Because I know what it’s done for me.
I know what it means to sit in silence and find peace after years of noise. I know what it feels like to breathe with awareness instead of panic. I know what it means to observe my mind instead of being trapped by it. That is something no one can take away from me.
So even if my sister doesn’t reply…
Even if Dev thinks he’s too important…
Even if a group chat empties out like I dropped a bomb instead of a blessing…
I’ll keep going.
I won’t stop sharing what helped me, but I’ll be wiser about where I plant my seeds.
Some soil is just not fertile. And some people will always see light as a threat if they’re not ready to see their own shadows.
But someone out there is ready.
Someone who’s been waiting for something real.
Someone who’s tired of loud advice and looking for quiet truth.
Maybe they’re reading this right now.
To them, I say—Inner Engineering isn’t a fix-all. But it’s a powerful step. A foundation. It won’t make your problems disappear, but it will teach you how to face them with clarity.
To the ones who left, ignored, or reacted badly—I release you. I let you go in peace.
No more chasing. No more hoping for validation. No more trying to fit truth into ears that have been closed for too long.
I’ll continue to walk this path. With breath. With patience. With inner strength. Alone, if I must. But always aligned.
Because peace isn’t about how many people clap for you.
It’s about how deeply you sit in your own stillness, even when no one else understands.
So if you ever come across this program—or any real tool for transformation—don’t just scroll past it.
Pause.
Ask yourself if maybe, just maybe, this is what your soul has been quietly asking for all along.
React
