Yoga's Greatest Secret: It Is Hidden in Plain Sight

One of the things I often tell people is that it really isn't about who is senior, who is junior, who is new to the tradition, or who has been around for decades. The teachings themselves reveal their deeper dimensions only to the sādhaka who is ready for them.

That is the beauty of authentic Yoga. It is not for us to hide the teachings. In fact, I believe that is one of the great mistakes people make. They imagine that spiritual wisdom has to be locked away and protected from others. I don't see it that way at all.

You don't have to hide the teachings. You can keep them in plain sight, and only those who are ready will truly understand them, assimilate them, and live them. Others may hear the very same words, but they will simply pass by without leaving a lasting impression.

I often think of this in relation to the concept of God. People spend their entire lives searching for God—here, there, and everywhere. They undertake pilgrimages, visit sacred places, and seek extraordinary experiences. Yet where is the Divine hidden? Right here, within each and every one of us. 

God is hidden in plain sight.

The reason we fail to perceive the Divine is not because God is concealed. It is because we ourselves are not yet ready to recognise the Divine in everything. We continue searching elsewhere because our own perception has not matured.

The same is true of Yogic teachings. We cannot hide them, because they are not ours to hide. We are not the owners of this wisdom. We are merely its custodians.

That does not mean we recklessly throw every practice into the public domain without discrimination. That is certainly not what I do. Responsible transmission requires discernment, context, and an understanding of the preparedness of the student.

Sometimes people forget that I am the chosen successor of Param Pujya Swamiji and Param Pujya Ammaji. I have over fifty years of Yoga Sādhana behind me. I was born into Yoga, brought up in Yoga, and have lived and breathed Yoga every day of my life. Yoga is not simply something I practise—Yoga is my Divine Mother.

Do you really think I do not possess the discernment to know what should be shared, with whom, and at what time? When people question that judgment, I sometimes feel that it reflects a lack of trust—not only in me, but also in the wisdom and vision of Swamiji and Ammaji, who entrusted this responsibility to me.

I believe we should stop trying to possess the teachings. Just because someone has been associated with the tradition for many years does not mean they alone are entitled to its deeper wisdom. Another person may walk into their very first class and already be inwardly prepared.

Patañjali reminds us that seekers are of different temperaments and capacities. Some progress slowly, some steadily, and some possess tīvra-saṃvega—that intense, burning aspiration that propels them rapidly towards realisation.

A seeker is not made by the passage of time.

Fifty years in Yoga does not automatically make one ready. Another individual, carrying the fruits of many previous births of sincere effort, may arrive already prepared for the highest teachings.

We simply do not know another person's inner journey.

That is why I ask for trust.

Please trust my judgment. Trust that I will never cheapen the sacred culture of Yoga or exchange its timeless wisdom for the fleeting rewards of modern commercialism. That is simply not who I am.

Finally, have faith in the tradition. Have faith in the Guru. Have faith in the process. When we become truly worthy, the teachings will naturally reveal themselves. They have always done so, and they always will.

After all, truth does not need to be hidden. It simply waits for the seeker who is ready to see it.