Sat Nam everyone,

Since so many have asked for my thoughts, I’d like to share my perspective on the upcoming Breath of Fire Kundalini trailer, which I just watched…

It’s the same old story resurfacing—the allegations against YB that shook the Kundalini community during the pandemic. But now, it seems they’ve added a twist by dragging in the woman from RaMa (above), notorious for bullying those around her. Despite her behavior, she built a massive following. Even 2-3 years after her death, people are still obsessed with her, almost worshiping her posthumously.

I’ve seen this not only with her but also with the latest so-called spiritual teacher in town (if it’s a man, they almost always seem to embody the archetype of a messiah, for reasons I still can’t quite understand). People follow them mindlessly, completely ignoring the red flags—often signs of narcissistic personality traits or, in many cases, obvious mental health issues. Yet common sense and glaring warnings are thrown out the window.

The real question we need to ask ourselves is why intelligent, coherent, wholehearted people—people like you and me—allow themselves to be mistreated, used, and abused by someone of this nature. But the harsh truth, or universal irony if you prefer, is that none of us are immune to it. We’re all susceptible to falling into this trap, no matter how wise or self-aware we believe ourselves to be. In our search for meaning, connection, or healing, we can overlook the red flags and trust too easily. It’s a humbling reminder that this vulnerability is part of the human experience, and it’s something we must recognize with compassion, not judgment.

What’s even more unsettling is the feeling that if she somehow came back from the dead, they’d follow her again without question. The issue isn’t just about charismatic personalities with large followings—it’s about why so many people are willing to subject themselves to someone so unrefined and, frankly, unqualified to lead.

I recently saw the trailer for this new so-called "documentary," and it was disappointing to hear her constantly referencing my teacher, YB, as if they had some deep, personal connection. The truth is, she wasn’t even around when he was alive—she came into the picture years later. It’s frustrating how these narratives get twisted to imply relationships or insights that simply didn’t exist.

But let’s be honest—this was bound to happen. In today’s world, where controversy sells and spirituality is commodified, it was only a matter of time before someone with the means to create a documentary seized the opportunity to profit from it. We’ve seen it before with other spiritual teachers—Kripalu, Osho, Bikram (who’s honestly a clown)—all facing similar allegations. The sexual misconduct accusations pile up, and we, as a society, are left grappling with the fallout.

But what does that say about us? We’re living in a time when people are desperate for connection and meaning. So many of us feel lonely, depressed, and lost, searching for a sense of purpose. What psychologists call "empty lives"—everything looks fine on the surface, but inside, we feel hollow.

What frustrates me most about these documentaries is how they completely skip over the essence of the spiritual teachings. Have you seen the Osho documentary? It’s a perfect example. They focus on portraying him as a cult leader, showing only small snippets of his teachings but never diving into the depth of his wisdom. The result? Followers are made to look like fools—either duped by a magnetic personality or portrayed as innocent victims who gave away their power without a second thought.

What really drew us in wasn’t the personality, it was the practice. For me, it was those beautiful summers in New Mexico practicing White Tantric Yoga. I’d come home feeling renewed, stronger, and happier. I built lasting friendships, and most importantly, I felt connected.

In reality, that’s what we’re all searching for—connection, meaning, and a place to belong.

I remember a particular Winter Solstice event where one of my students and her new friend spotted the woman from RaMa walking by. The friend, full of excitement and pride, turned to my student and said, "Look, that’s my teacher!" She waved eagerly, trying to catch the woman’s attention. After several calls, the so-called teacher barely glanced her way before immediately turning her head back and walking on, completely dismissing her. My student, understandably, turned red with embarrassment.

A minute later, I happened to walk by. My student said, "Look, that’s my teacher," and called out to me. (I don’t actually remember this moment.) But I’m told that I approached them with warmth, greeted them, and introduced myself to her friend before moving along.

Now, please don’t misunderstand me—I’m far from perfect. This isn’t about trying to elevate an unkindly proud moment of my own. What I want to highlight is a deeper question: Why do we allow ourselves to be dismissed like that? In one situation, there’s love, connection, and acknowledgment. In the other, there’s clear dismissal. The real question we should ask is: Why do we keep choosing dismissal?

I know many therapists and doctors in our community will be reading this, as our Kundalini community is filled with people whose life calling is to serve others. The simple answer to this question is that, deep down, we don’t feel like we’re enough. In our personal evolution, we all have to confront parts of ourselves, the basic nature of being human, and deal with specific wounds—like abandonment, which often starts at birth when we leave the safety of our mother’s womb. Of course, this experience varies depending on an individual’s childhood, but these are fundamental wounds we all face. Rejection is another. These wounds shape how we allow others to treat us and how they manifest in our lives.

The mind seeks to understand what is happening to us, and once it does, liberation follows. Understanding means being able to recognize these traits as they arise within us. However, none of these so-called documentaries will help with that. Most are profit-driven, masquerading as efforts to help humanity awaken.

Take the Osho documentary, for instance. If I had to choose, at least the ashram looked like a place full of fun and joy—something the townspeople couldn’t recognize because of their own envy. They lacked joy in their own lives, and their religious beliefs weren’t leading them toward love, as they should, but toward hatred, condemnation, and extreme violence toward others.

These documentaries won’t show you the real journey of self-discovery. That can only come from doing the work—understanding yourself, your wounds, and why you continue to accept behaviors that don’t serve your growth.

Meditation will lead you to self-reflection. But here’s the thing—you have to do the work. No one can hide behind a big, magnetic personality, white clothing, and lots of mala necklaces anymore. It’s on you to take responsibility for your growth. If you don’t, and instead choose to hand your life over to the latest so-called guru, you’ll end up paying for it in the long run.

Eventually, you’ll find yourself angry—not just at the guru, but at yourself—because you silenced that little voice inside of you that was calling out some of their words as BS. You ignored your own common sense, and after years of doing so, your soul, completely exhausted, will start seeking validation elsewhere.

That’s when the temptation for revenge or vindication comes in. You might turn to documentaries or stories that validate your pain, providing a momentary sense of satisfaction. But deep down, you’ll know the truth: you were responsible for your life, your actions, and every decision you made.

This fleeting sense of validation won’t be enough to fill that inner void because, on some level, you’ll always recognize the truth—you gave your power away. And until you accept responsibility for your own choices, no documentary, no public exposure, and no external validation will ever bring you the peace you’re truly seeking.

That peace can only come from within, from doing the hard, often painful work of looking inside and starting the journey. No guru is going to wake up early for you to meditate. No one is coming to take your phone away at 10 p.m. so you can go to sleep early instead of staying up past midnight. No one will stop you from buying unnecessary things to momentarily fill that void. No one will come. No one but you. You are the one you’ve been waiting for all along.

We all carry a void inside our hearts. We can feel it—it’s the emptiness born from separation, though we may not even remember what we’re separated from. But we feel it, the pain of that disconnection—the separation from the light within us. We are each responsible for trying to fill this void, often with whatever we can find: relationships, drugs of all kinds—ayahuasca, alcohol, marijuana, pain medication—extra binge-watching, shopping, cleaning... the list goes on. We know it’s "extra." There’s nothing wrong with shopping or cleaning, but deep down, we know when it’s excessive, when it’s just a way to mask the emptiness we feel.

But until we learn to fill that void with our own love, no drug, no AI device, no external thing will ever truly satisfy it.

I’m grateful to all the spiritual teachers who came before us. I deeply respect the incredible work they did. They taught us the lost techniques to connect with the deeper dimensions within ourselves. They took a society lost in the cycle of "born, grow, reproduce, work, die" and guided us toward experiencing something beyond the physical reality of being alive.

We needed them. We needed their teachings. But somewhere along the way, we forgot that they were human too. Now, it’s our time to rise. 

Look at the silver lighting in here because of all these experiences, now we have a chance! A real chance!!

With sincerity,

Indra K