Demands

Raqhel once told me about a man she had been deeply involved with, who found himself on house arrest. He was stuck thirty minutes from her, tethered to his home by the law. One day, he suggested that maybe—just maybe—God had orchestrated this twist of fate. Perhaps the universe had confined him close to her so they could finally live the Ayurvedic, yogic, spiritual life together that they had both spoken of, off and on, for years.

If that was the case, Raqhel had one condition: monogamy. She desired it. She demanded it. But “getting” him to commit to that wasn’t realistic, not with his complicated situation. Though they had been involved for years, he had another woman, a girlfriend across the country who supported him financially. The relationship was far from simple.

Still, Raqhel did not walk away, though to do so would have been an immense act of strength. It takes power to love someone so deeply, to long for a life of spiritual connection, and still have the humility to let go when it's clear that the dream isn’t meant to materialize. But instead of bowing out, she chose to stay. She told me her goal was to experience Yoga—not just as physical postures, but as spiritual awareness, Divine power, stillness, and love—in everything. In food, in sex, in work, in relationships. She wanted to taste that sacred union in every corner of life.

For a time, she believed this situation offered a path to that understanding. But as she quickly discovered, living in extremes—whether they be emotional highs, passionate pursuits, or the illusion of spiritual enlightenment—can burn out quickly. Yoga, like life, is about balance. And living well, living truly well, takes time.

Consider the art of cooking: the slow ritual of crafting a perfect meal from scratch, each spice measured with care. Or the intimacy of exploring your partner’s body, learning the hidden spots that bring both pleasure and healing. It’s the same with exercise, with hobbies, with the daily grind of working to your fullest potential. None of these things come in an instant; they take energy, they take intention, and they take time.

Over time, we learn to let the bliss we feel in those intense moments of joy, passion, or love settle into the background, like a hum beneath the surface of everyday life. We begin to seek balance instead of living in the extremes. And as we appreciate the steady rhythm of our daily activities, we start to crave the wild, intense highs a little less.

Extreme bliss is intoxicating, but it isn’t sustainable—not for long, not in this human life. The key is to let those moments of ecstasy resonate in everything we do. To allow the vibration of joy to carry us through the mundane.

Desires are beautiful. They fuel us, ignite us. But we must learn to set boundaries around our desires—especially when they involve others. Demanding things from people is selfish, it’s unfair. Demanding things from God, however, is different. God is our Creator, and we are allowed to ask the Divine, to say what we need and want, and to surrender when we can’t see the path ahead. “I can’t, You can. I bow to the Divine,” becomes our prayer.

Humility is the key. It’s why we bow, why we perform Sun Salutations. Every time we get on our knees or bow our heads, we honor the radiant One, the Creator. Just as the Sun radiates light, we acknowledge that we, too, are here to shine—but with grace, balance, and humility. And everyone can do this, no matter their limitations. It’s not about perfection; it’s about connection.

So yes, Raqhel’s story taught me that living an Ayurvedic, yogic life takes more than desire. It takes time, discipline, and most importantly, surrender. We can't demand from others what is not theirs to give, but we can always ask the Divine for strength and find it within ourselves to walk away when needed—with love, grace, and gratitude.