The Search for God and the Meaning of Life – An Experience Lived
It was the third month of my medication when I was prescribed a new composition for my mental health issues. I was going through several changes and adaptations at that point in time. Every day felt like stabilising with some feeling or body sensation, and every weekend brought something new to experience.
The changes were intense for the first two weeks, and then, over the next two, they began to stabilise, allowing me simply to be. All my emotions and feelings were clouded and wrapped in some kind of force, as perhaps I wasn’t ready to face them all at once. Somewhere beneath all of this was an old question – the search for God and the meaning of life – although I didn’t yet know that it would become the journey I was about to live.
But then the dams opened, and slowly, the next phase of adaptation came, tearing through my brain and body. It came like a lag or mismatch between my body and my brain. It started with looming anxiety, some panic episodes, and then, over the next few days, I had to get used to what was happening.
As the clouds of doubt slowly began to wear off, I was able to distinguish the phases I was going through. Initially, my experience of myself, my anxiety and life itself all felt like one thing. Later, I could see my anxiety and the scared feeling as something separate from me.
It felt like a relief.
But every morning brought some lethargy, and I had to push myself to act, walk and keep going until I could distinguish myself from my thoughts and anxiety.
Meanwhile, I was also travelling.
It started with a long train journey from my hometown to Delhi, and from there, I went to Vrindavan. I had no plans or particular feeling to visit the land of Shri Radha, but perhaps I had to. Maybe I was summoned through a dream I had a few days earlier.
From there, I went on to Rishikesh, which was my decision – to go to the place from where it all started: my love for the mountains.
While Vrindavan felt hectic because of the rush and a numbness that didn’t allow me to feel anything, Rishikesh felt more confusing. Most of the time, I felt trapped inside my head, with no feeling at all, while the place itself still remained a little distant from me.
It was irritating and, sometimes, scary.
The only thing that brought relief was sitting next to the Ganga while the misty wind kept touching my face, as if making my heart feel that it did exist.
But then it was time to return and set out on another journey – to Ujjain, the place of Mahakaal.
The journey, along with the effects of my medication, made the 13-hour trip even more hectic. But as I stood in front of the Shivling of Mahakaal, there was something in His eyes, and something within me, that I could feel after a long, long time.
It was as if a layer of me was being born – a layer that knew how life feels.
But even that was a process.
Over the next few days, I just walked, perhaps a little lost and startled at times, when I couldn’t differentiate the lag between the coordination of my body and mind. This phase was even scarier, especially when I felt afraid for what seemed like no apparent reason.
It took another three days – three laggy mornings – to realise and see this layer of adaptation separately.
And by then, I was already on my journey to my next destination: Omkareshwar Temple, another Jyotirlinga in Madhya Pradesh.
And right now, this is the moment I am writing this article, waiting for my bus, and having a realisation that I couldn’t stop myself from writing about.
The last five or six years have been a rollercoaster ride, bringing events and changes into my life that only moved me deeper into myself, into the corners of my mind, and towards finding that which is written in scriptures and verses.
But perhaps it needs a balance – a balance that I lost.
Somewhere in the dark corners of my brain, while searching for the meaning of life and wondering whether there is a God, I lost myself.
And today, a realisation has emerged from a faint, shining light.
I can see that perhaps none of these holy places I visited in the last three weeks were entirely my choices.
Whether it was Vrindavan, Rishikesh, Ujjain or even Omkareshwar, for which I am still waiting for my bus, none of them necessarily stood in accordance with what I was feeling.
But perhaps they were half-made choices, with the other half being held by something unknown.
Call it God.
Call it life.
Call it a good feeling.
Call it a blessing.
Whatever it was, it allowed a new life to breathe again.
Whatever it is, it feels no less than a blessing – a new chance to improve my life, and a lesson to carry forward from now on:
Perhaps words and meaning separate the way we perceive life, love, being, behaviours, habits, God, divinity and existence – as separate aspects of life – while beneath all of them lies the same feeling, meaning and intent that we bring to what we practise.
Praying to God, loving someone, doing our daily chores, working, and simply being are perhaps not as different as we make them.
They can all be practices carried out with the same pure feeling of love, intention and gratitude.
And perhaps, after that, godliness follows by itself.
And in the end, the best lesson I can take away is this:
Perhaps God is not something sitting in some temple whom we pray to in order to wash away our sins, bless us with what we want and need, or give us the meaning of existence.
Perhaps God is the pure feeling and satisfaction felt when everything is done with pure intention, love and gratitude.
When life is lived that way, perhaps godliness becomes a living feeling within ourselves – something beneath everything that reflects as contentment, happiness, love and peace.
If you liked this article, do give a read to another deeply explored journey on our blog named “What Solo Travelling Taught Me About Life“, where I have shared all my experiences of the ups and down in my life which has lately been a solo travel journey.
A profoundly beautiful and soul-stirring reflection. ✨
What makes this piece so powerful is the honesty with which you turn an inner struggle into a spiritual awakening. Perhaps the deepest journeys are not the ones we consciously choose, but the ones through which the Divine quietly leads us. Your realisation that God may not merely be found in temples, but in love, gratitude, intention, peace, and the way we live, is both profound and deeply spiritual. Sometimes, when we think we are searching for God, perhaps God is gently guiding us back to ourselves. This is a beautiful reminder that faith is not always about finding answers, it is about learning to feel the presence of the Divine in simply being. Truly an exquisite and contemplative piece. 🌿🕉️