I wasn’t massaged as a baby and only discovered in India what it means to feel good inside, or even to be able to feel ‘inside’ at all. Yoga, pranayama, and meditation helped me. These are methods practiced in India for millennia, making people receptive to simply FEELING their inner selves without thoughts commenting on these feelings. These methods direct attention inward, where more blissful tranquility is present than we realize. Simply being aware how it feels inside, and even if you don’t feel anything, staying with it for a while, helps to direct attention in the right direction – towards our essence.

A vibrant stillness, pulsating with intense joy, is what remains when the ego stops making noise with negative thoughts and feelings. It is the invisible foundation of everything, the subtle essence in everything, hidden deep within every person, regardless of their external circumstances. And this essence is accessible precisely because it is contained within each human being, much like the ocean is contained within every wave, or rather, every wave is made entirely of ocean.

Theoretically, accessing this essence sounds easy: Attention must shift away from objects (one’s own person and thoughts are also objects in this sense) and toward attention itself. In other words, consciousness, which normally is aware of objects in this universe, must become aware of itself, or rather, recognize itself.

In practice, it’s not so easy, because it requires at least some moments of stopping thoughts, going deeper, and feeling this wonder of one’s own existence within. Perhaps consciously folding one’s hands in gratitude and noticing the goosebumps, and not brushing them off as insignificant and moving on in our daily routine. Access to one’s own essence is possible at any moment. Inner stillness and joy are, so to speak, waiting to be discovered. They are always ready, always present, and they may wonder why people seem to prefer inner noise and restlessness to this stillness and joy.

The mind pulls outward but it’s worthwhile to resist this pull

Yet strangely, it appears to be more satisfying to read the newspaper, or watch TV (nowadays it is looking at the mobile), or make a cup of coffee than to quietly turn inward.
For many years in India, I had no home and therefore had no newspaper, no telephone, no television, and no kitchen, and therefore plenty of time for meditation. I regularly sat for an hour each morning and evening, and earnestly asked for help to recognize my true self. Yet, I cannot say that I clearly felt my essence. It seemed more as if I were merely looking at the veils that conceal it.
Once, I even stayed for three days in a room furnished with only a bed, table, and chair, resolving not to write, not to read, and not even to go out onto the veranda. The housekeeper cooked for me, so I had nothing to do – I either sat on the floor trying to meditate, did yoga, or lay on the bed. Enlightenment didn’t come, but in the days following my retreat, an article poured out of me, which a psychology professor in Germany happened to read. He felt, I would be the right person to contribute a chapter on the Bhagavad Gita to a reader for psychology students. And a few years later I came to know that a philosophy professor of my own Alma Mater, Hamburg University, recommended to his students my articles to learn about Indian philosophy. Thus, my retreat led to a greater engagement with the world. It was personal evidence that meditation is not escapism.

Moderation and a pure aspiration are needed

However, some Westerners overdo it and can be very rigid when it comes to their spiritual practice. In the 1980s, I met Gopi Krishna in Dehradun, who had written several books on Kundalini energy. He knew that it is dangerous to overdo meditation – in a manner of “come hell or high water”. He had done just that himself and had subsequently suffered under mental problems for 12 years.
Kundalini is a powerful force, not to be trifled with. Because of his books, he attracted Westerners who had also meditated too rigidly, and I met several of them. Most had problems, and Gopi Krishna’s main advice was to lead a moderate life.

“We Indians don’t need to meditate. Only you foreigners do,” a friend once remarked with a smile. He had picked up a Frenchman in the city who was wandering aimlessly through the streets of Dehradun after a 10-day Vipassana meditation retreat. My friend offered him a place to stay for a few days and was then stunned at how inflexibly the man adhered to his meditation schedule. Indians are generally adaptable: his family only ate their meals when it suited their guest (in my view, they shouldn‘t have waited).

Small, but helpful reminders

Life in India these days is hectic, and few Indians take the time for meditation. They leave it to the hundreds of thousands of sadhus, or ashramites who have dedicated themselves, so to speak, to the professional and full-time search for truth.
Nevertheless, many begin their day with a small puja at home. In the morning, before the first passenger boards the auto-rickshaw, taxi, or bus, many drivers hang a small garland of flowers in their vehicle, fold their hands, and close their eyes for a moment. They surely do it with genuine fervour, for they truly risk their lives anew each day and need divine protection.
Many shop and restaurant owners also light an incense stick and pass it before a small shrine in a corner of their shop before attending to their first customer. They may be asking for good business, but it is a prayer nonetheless. There are also countless moments throughout the day when many pause and remember the divine. Every time I pass a small temple in one of the three-wheeled share taxis, several of the passengers look in its direction, lower their heads, and respectfully touch their eyes. Even ‘modern’ young men in jeans and with fancy hairstyles do it.
In the evenings, many light an oil lamp in the prayer room or in front of the house before switching on the lights. And at sunrise, many spontaneously fold their hands, and I get goosebumps.

Incidentally, according to the Vijnanabhairava, a text of Kashmir Shaivism, goosebumps are very valuable. It’s a moment when thoughts stop, and therefore an insight into one’s own being is possible if one consciously “catches” this moment.

I am often amazed by the many small “reminders” that basically everything in this world is a miracle. According to the Indian calendar, we are currently living in the Kali Yuga, the darkest of all ages, where the world has become materially dense and separated itself from the divine. But in India, this separation doesn’t seem to be quite as complete as elsewhere. People are aware that Ishwara or Bhagawan (they have many names for what in English is called God) is present in this world and in themselves. They see the divine in earth, water, fire, air and in living beings – an attitude that we in the West are slowly learning to appreciate, although for centuries we devalued such views as a “primitive nature religion”.
One consequence of this Indian perspective is feeling protected within the Divine, rather than being a lone fighter in the world, or rather ‘against’ the world. This is probably a reason why Indians are generally calmer. They have a powerful ally right within themselves, always present, in whom they can fully trust. This brings a certain lightness to life. And when one manages to fully surrender to this inner Presence, it occasionally draws one into the still eye of the world’s storm, where it is at home and where absolutely nothing can harm one. And who knows, perhaps it will let one be at home there – in a loving embrace.
For this is possible, the Indian rishis claim, supposedly from direct experience.

(The above article is part 2 of a chapter for the German anthology “Wege der Stille”.)
Link to the first part: https://mariawirth.com/inner-stillness-in-outer-noise/

if you like my writing, consider getting my books
Title: “Why Hindu Dharma is under attack by Muslims, Christians and the Left” 2025, Rs 311
link: https://www.amazon.in/dp/8119670655 or

Why Hindu Dharma is Under Attack by Muslims, Christians and the Left: A Collection of Essays

Title: “Thank you India,a German woman’s journey to the wisdom of yoga” 2018, Rs 349
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The post Feeling Good within Oneself first appeared on Maria Wirth.

India and silence seem to be opposites, much like noise and silence.

On the other hand, India is called the spiritual teacher of the world, and no other country has yet challenged this title. There is a special atmosphere in the country that many visitors sense. It seems as if one becomes quieter inside, despite the unfamiliar noise. As if one automatically adopts a certain distance from what is happening to oneself – for example, when, travelling in an auto rikshaw in the chaotic yet swiftly flowing traffic, one is close to a collision at any moment, yet experiences the whole thing as impersonally as if one were casually watching a fast-paced computer game. Could it be that true silence can be found even in noise, and is not the opposite of noise? That it might even be more easily discovered amidst unbearable noise than when everything is outwardly quiet?

Anandamayi Ma, a saintly woman from Bengal (1896 – 1982), advised Melita Maschmann, a German journalist who lived with her for many years, to sit directly under the large bell in the temple every morning and evening during Arti and meditate amidst the cacophony of conch shells, bells, rattles, drums, and loud chanting. Melita told me that at first, she felt some resistance, but after a while it no longer bothered her, and she actually became still inside. Her resistance vanished. Anandamayi Ma was her guru, and it was a matter of course for her to follow her advice and accept the situation.

In all likelihood, accepting a challenging situation is the key to stillness—to a comforting stillness within one’s own mind, independent of external circumstances. And I feel that the special atmosphere in India is connected to the fact that thoughts are generally quieter in the minds of Indians than in the minds of Westerners, even though external circumstances in India are often more challenging. Indians resist relatively little, are rarely indignant, and are quick to accept difficult situations and difficult people.

Their philosophy is live and let live. They believe that everything is exactly as it has to be because a compassionate Ishwara is behind the drama in our lives and in the world. This belief lifts a burden from their shoulders and removes the reason to worry too much. It also helps to be a witness and maintain a certain distance from the drama and their own role in it, and not to be helplessly swept away by it. “What is, is” (Jo ho, so ho) I often heard Anandamayi Ma say when I frequently visited her at the beginning of my stay in India. It made perfect sense to me.

But this acceptance of a situation is by no means a given, even when one knows that, essentially, one has no other choice but to accept a situation, precisely because it is already a fact that one is confronted with. The inner resistance and the screaming against it seem to be innate in human beings. And it is even considered by some to be the only sensible course of action.

I recall an episode from quite early in my stay in India which made me reflect:
It was in the tourist bungalow in Haridwar. Several foreigners were staying there, all on a spiritual quest and with Anandamayi Ma as their guru. In the morning, the hotel boy came to clean the floor. When he was finished in my room, he knocked on the next door. A Westerner was meditating there at that time, and every morning there was the same pandemonium. The tall, strong Westerner angrily opened the door and shouted at the skinny boy, who looked about 14.
“Damn it! How dare you disturb me during meditation! I want peace and quiet at this hour, and I’ve told you countless times not to knock…” At first, I felt sorry for the boy, but as time went on, I got the impression that the shouting didn’t affect him much. He probably didn’t understand how a knock on the door could upset an adult man so much. Perhaps he was even secretly looking forward to the spectacle, since he was only doing his duty. And, of course, he calmly let the storm pass without defending himself and moved on to the next door.

I noticed at the time that the foreigner’s peace was indeed severely disturbed, not because of the knocking, but because of his own reaction. Perhaps he didn’t realize that his thoughts were making far more noise than the boy, and that a shrug and acceptance of the situation (because the boy apparently couldn’t be taught not to knock) and a shout out: “no cleaning today” would have given him the peace he craved.

It’s always easier to spot foolish behavior in others, but once you’ve internally shouted at a hopeless situation often enough, you learn to see it in yourself, too. It was a slow learning process for me. Perhaps it was easier for me to go through this process in India, precisely because the irritations are often considerable. On the other hand, I’m certain that everyone is provided with the optimal environment in which they can access their quiet, subtle essence, if they so choose.

Even the frequent power outages in the 1990s helped me gradually bring my inner stillness to the surface. At that time, I wrote my articles on a word-processor, which required me to save my writing to a floppy disk. When I was fully focused on writing, despite my best intentions, I invariably forgot to save. And then the power would suddenly go, and everything I had so diligently written was gone. Simply gone. “No!!! This can’t be true!” was my (understandable?) reaction, accompanied by helpless anger. It happened often, but over time my reaction weakened until only a neutral “Everything’s gone again” flashed through my mind. I took a deep breath and started over.

It’s not worth getting upset about something that has already happened. Indians seem to understand this better. Many Westerners, on the other hand, even consider it abnormal not to be indignant and regard equanimity under all circumstances (the ideal of a yogi) as boring.
The reason is probably that we are primarily focused outwards. We always want something to be happening. We want action to take place, and we don’t feel anything within ourselves, because we never really look attentively inside. And we still don’t realize that lasting happiness can’t be found that way. It lies hidden within ourselves. The boundless, invisible, blissful “inner Self” is the more important dimension in life.
By Maria Wirth

the above article (translated) is part of a chapter which i wrote for the German anthology “Wege der Stille”.

if you like my writing, consider getting my books
Title: “Why Hindu Dharma is under attack by Muslims, Christians and the Left” 2025, Rs 311
link: https://www.amazon.in/dp/8119670655 or

Why Hindu Dharma is Under Attack by Muslims, Christians and the Left: A Collection of Essays

Title: “Thank you India,a German woman’s journey to the wisdom of yoga” 2018, Rs 349
link https://garudalife.in/thank-you-india-by-maria-wirth
they are also available as Kindle

The post Inner stillness in outer noise first appeared on Maria Wirth.

Yet he wrote this about Indian women and he meant Hindu women:

“There is a peculiar beauty in Indian women, whereby their face is covered with pure skin, with a slight, lovely blush, which is not just like the blush of health and vitality, but a finer blush, like a spiritual touch from within. The look of the eye and the position of the mouth, appear gentle, soft and relaxed – it is an almost unearthly beauty…”

In the 1960/70s, I remember that Indian women, with the characteristic red dot on the forehead, were considered as the most beautiful in the whole world. Of course, there were beautiful women also in other countries. However, Indian women stood out for their grace, and for that ‘spiritual touch’, apart from their good features, delicate body structure and long limbs.

In 1982, the physicist Fritjof Capra gave a talk at the Bombay University. He mentioned that everyone knows that Indian women are very beautiful and feminine. But now on his first visit in India, he realized that the whole culture is shifted more towards the feminine side. Even men are gentler.

Around the same time, in the early 1980s, a well-known German feminist gave a talk in the Max Mueller Bhavan in Delhi. For the first time I saw Indian women wearing jeans and smoking. They had a western feel about them, and no, they didn’t have an “almost unearthly beauty”.

Then, in the 1990s, the beauty of Indian women got internationally recognized in a big way. 1994, Aishwarya Rai was crowned Miss World and Sushmita Sen Miss Universe. From 1994 till 2000, India won four Miss World titles. In 1991, India had had to open its economy, and the buzz about the beauty pageants, was used to make Indians buy beauty products. Western companies benefited from a huge market. The focus was now on make-up, and no longer on grace or a spiritual touch.

In 2002, at a conference in Puducherry, a German psychology professor said, that Indian women are beautiful, but not sexy. He may have considered this as a drawback, but Indian women of earlier decades at least, would have seen this as a plus point.

Nowadays one hears little in the West about the beauty of Indian women, though the majority of them continues to have good features and well-proportioned bodies. Instead, one hears a lot about Indian/Hindu women being oppressed by male patriarchy – they suffer, they are abused…

On German Arte TV some years ago, Colin Gonsalves and Arundhati Roy drew an abysmal picture of the situation. According to those two, almost every woman had been subjected to abuse and rape. Culprit is supposedly the patriarchal Hindu society.

It was vicious propaganda. Hindus would be the group with the least number of rapes in relation to the population due to their mindset, if there was a truthful survey which took the religion of the criminal into account.

Yet the narrative was set after the sad case of Nirbhaya in 2012: ‘Hindu men are rapists. Nobody should have any doubt about this!’

Naturally the talk about the beauty of Indian women needed to stop. How can women, who are abused and suffer, be beautiful?

Meanwhile, entertainment and media steered young Hindu women towards Westernization and sexualization.

A German who visited Puducherry after a gap of some years, joked that it seems that the traditional Indian dress is the miniskirt. And a teacher friend tells me that it’s incredible, how sexualized the whole atmosphere in schools has become. Woke-ism and LGBTQ+ has reached Bharat. A 19-year-old student told me that about half the girls of her class confidently and openly claim they are lesbian.

It can be assumed, that this degradation of Indian society in general and women in particular was planned from a higher place. Maybe Hindu men were maligned, so that Pakistani Muslims don’t look so bad after the atrocious ‘grooming scandals’ in UK broke in the news?

Another possible reason: constantly talking about rape, lowers the resistance to ‘sexual education’ in schools and drives the Hindu society ever more towards Westernization and moral degradation.

Recently, on two Indian TV channels, ‘depression in women’ was the topic. It meant, the spiritual connection is weak or has been lost altogether.

I hope that Hindu women use their discrimination. I hope they realize that they are intentionally pushed into the wrong direction with wrong role models, like Hollywood or Bollywood actresses. A direction which makes them unhappy but makes them believe, they are ‘modern’ and ‘sexually liberated’. It is a direction that cuts them off from the vital connection to their inner Self or Atman, where inspiration, true happiness and love come from. And it makes them lose their beauty.

It is a direction, where only rights are demanded and duties are frowned upon as old-fashioned. Where women compete with men and do no longer complement each other. Where the trust between the sexes is severely damaged. And where women even exploit their husbands with the help of women friendly laws (and lawyers) and drive the husband to suicide.

After 34-year-old Atul Subhash’s painful testimony went viral, which he had meticulously recorded before his suicide on December 9^th, 2024, several other cases of men committing suicide after severe harassment from their wives, sadly came to light.

Such ‘modern’, ‘sexually liberated’ women may have good-looking features and bodies, but they are not beautiful. And not happy.

They may realize their mistake when they get older. But why not have now already the courage to stand up to peer pressure which demands from students to be ‘woke’? Why not now already nurture one’s spiritual connection and feel safe in Bhagawan’s embrace?

Yet there are still many truly beautiful women in Bharat, who have not lost their spiritual connection to their inner Self. The three young women in the photo surely strike everyone as beautiful. Indian culture is still very much alive. Fortunately.

By Maria Wirth

The post Indian women: no longer the most beautiful? first appeared on Maria Wirth.