Beyond the Body and Mind: Why True Yoga Begins with Your Relationship with Life
This conversation has the potential to become one of the most powerful episodes of The Shoonya Code because it moves through three dimensions:
- A person's extraordinary experience of transcending bodily sensations.
- Why meditation without understanding relationships, life and participation can become isolation.
- Why a neurologist must understand life, humanity and relationships—not merely prescribe medicines.
A conversation with Dr. Parth on transcendence, loneliness, human relationships and the deeper meaning of health
What if the peace we experience in meditation is not something we need to escape into, but something we must learn to live with—even with our eyes open?
During a conversation with Dr. Parth, Ryan Mehta recalled an experience that had left a profound impression on him.
He described a moment during a meditation session when he was sitting still, without any particular effort or expectation. As Dr. Parth gently touched his leg, something unusual happened.
"Suddenly, I lost the experience of my left leg. Then I lost my right hand, and even the tip of my right little finger. It was as though those body parts no longer existed in my experience. I tried to feel them, but there was no sensation coming back. It was so sudden, intense and powerful. I was in such a blissful state."
What made the experience even more remarkable was that its influence seemed to continue long after the meditation session.
"For almost three days, I remained in that state. It felt like a process of purification. I was untouched by life, by my likes and dislikes. Life was simply happening, intensely, but nothing disturbed me. Slowly, however, I came out of that experience. Later, when I tried to recreate it on my own, it did not happen. Why, Parth?"
Dr. Parth's response took the conversation beyond meditation techniques and into the very nature of human existence.
The Unconscious Way of Transcending
"Have you noticed what happens when you fall asleep?" Parth asked.
"Regardless of the state you were in before sleeping, the moment you fall asleep, something changes. Your usual experience of the body and mind recedes. For a while, you are no longer engaging with the world in the same way.
In a sense, human beings use sleep as an unconscious way of moving beyond their usual bodily and mental limitations.
Why does this happen?
One important aspect is that your active engagement and interaction with the external world have significantly reduced. The demands, reactions and constant exchanges that occupy your waking experience become quieter.
Have you noticed how the system responds when the sun rises? The day begins, activities begin, interactions begin, and the mind becomes occupied with the world again. For many people, the night feels peaceful partly because the demands of external engagement have reduced.
But this relationship with the world is happening without your conscious participation.
When the same relationship with existence happens with willingness, awareness and full participation, we call it Yoga."
This is where Parth introduces a different understanding of yoga.
Yoga, in its deeper sense, is not merely a physical exercise, a breathing technique or a practice performed with closed eyes.
Yoga is the experience of your relationship with the whole of existence.
Why Are We Peaceful with Our Eyes Closed but Disturbed with Them Open?
According to Parth, one of the fundamental contradictions of modern human life is that people seek peace by withdrawing from the world, while continuing to experience the world as a source of conflict.
"Right now, you have made yourself in such a way that perhaps the only time you experience some peace is when you close your eyes, put on your headphones and fall asleep.
But the moment you open your eyes, you are ready to make a hell out of the world.
You like someone. You dislike someone else. You hate this person because of what he did. You resent another because of what she said. Someone has offended you. Someone has disappointed you.
You carry all these likes and dislikes as though they are your personal achievements.
But tell me, where is the problem actually coming from?
Your anger, hatred, jealousy and resentment are experiences happening within you. Yet you continuously project them onto the outside world.
If you want to understand meditation, if you want to understand yoga, first look at the creature sitting inside your own head who constantly sees the world as a problem.
You must first learn to transform your relationship with yourself."
Parth's point is not that human beings should accept injustice, abandon discernment or stop addressing problems. Rather, he questions why every external situation must become an internal disturbance.
Can you respond to life without constantly becoming disturbed by it?
Can you disagree without hatred? Can you participate without resentment? Can you encounter different people and situations without making your inner experience dependent on them?
For Parth, these are not secondary questions in the journey of yoga. They are its very foundation.
From Yourself to the Whole: The Expansion of Human Relationships
Parth describes human development as an expansion of one's relationship with life.
"First, fix your relationship with yourself. Then extend that understanding to your family, your neighbours, your society, your nation, the world, this planet and eventually the whole of existence.
When you open your eyes, you must be able to come at ease with everything and everyone around you. When that happens, you also begin to come at ease with yourself.
And perhaps that is when you are ready for yoga."
This understanding reverses a common approach to spirituality.
People often begin by withdrawing from their surroundings, avoiding interactions and attempting to establish peace through isolation.
But Parth asks a more fundamental question:
If you cannot be at ease with life around you, what exactly are you trying to achieve by closing your eyes?
Yoga should not become an excuse to escape relationships, responsibilities or participation in life. Its deeper possibility is to transform the way we experience all of them.
The Hidden Poison of Modern Loneliness
The conversation then moves into one of the most significant challenges of contemporary human life: loneliness.
Parth observes that from childhood, people are trained to acquire skills, concentrate, focus, compete, achieve and perform.
Education teaches us how to study. Society teaches us how to succeed. Technology teaches us how to connect digitally.
But how much are we taught about living?
"From childhood, people are taught how to study, how to concentrate, how to focus, how to achieve one thing after another.
In the name of learning how to do everything, many have gradually lost their relationship with the world outside themselves.
They have become identified, limited and lonely creatures.
Loneliness is the poison we are unknowingly cultivating."
He makes an important distinction here.
The body and mind naturally require engagement. They need movement, meaningful activity, interaction, exploration and participation.
There is nothing inherently wrong with solitude. In fact, conscious solitude can be deeply valuable.
But there is a difference between choosing to be alone and experiencing loneliness.
There is a difference between withdrawing consciously for inner exploration and becoming disconnected from life.
Parth cautions that meditation should never become a substitute for living.
"If you want to sit with your eyes closed and explore dimensions beyond the body and mind, that is one thing. But if you are sitting because you feel lonely, disconnected and unable to participate in life, you must first understand what is happening within you.
Otherwise, you may slowly begin avoiding life in the name of spiritual practice.
You may avoid people, responsibilities and meaningful activity. Eventually, you may find yourself isolated, stressed and disconnected, while believing that you are progressing spiritually.
This is not the purpose of yoga."
What Neuroscience Tells Us About Loneliness
Parth brings a neurological perspective to this discussion.
"As neuroscientists, we understand that chronic loneliness is not simply an unpleasant emotion. Research has associated prolonged social isolation and loneliness with stress-related physiological changes, inflammatory processes and poorer cognitive and physical health outcomes."
Indeed, research has linked persistent loneliness and social isolation with increased health risks, including cardiovascular problems, cognitive decline and psychological distress.
The human organism is not designed merely to receive information. It is designed to participate in life.
A video call can transmit an image. A screen can deliver information. Social media can create the impression of constant connection.
But human beings also need embodied experiences: physical presence, meaningful conversations, touch, shared activities and genuine relationships.
Parth explains:
"The body wants to touch, feel, move and experience life. It wants to participate more intensely.
You cannot replace the entire experience of human relationships with virtual interactions.
What happens when the mind continuously consumes images, information and imagined possibilities without sufficient meaningful engagement with life?
There can be a growing gap between what the mind imagines and what the body actually experiences.
Over time, this gap may contribute to frustration, dissatisfaction and resentment."
This is one of the paradoxes of the digital age: we have more ways to communicate than ever before, yet meaningful human connection can still be missing.
Is Stress Simply Too Much Stimulation?
Parth also questions the way people understand stress.
He suggests that a significant part of modern distress arises from the mismatch between mental stimulation and actual participation in life.
The mind is constantly exposed to information, images, expectations and possibilities. It can imagine experiences that the body never gets to participate in.
We watch lives we are not living. We compare ourselves with people we have never met. We consume endless information while remaining disconnected from direct experience.
The result can be a sense of restlessness, dissatisfaction and unfulfilled desire.
Parth puts it this way:
"Your mind can keep imagining, comparing and demanding, but your body is living in a very concrete reality.
If your life becomes rigid, automatic and disconnected from genuine experience, you gradually lose your curiosity about life.
And when curiosity disappears, life begins to feel dull.
You are moving, but are you really living?"
For Parth, the restoration of human wellbeing requires more than reducing stress or seeking temporary relaxation. It requires rediscovering meaningful participation in life.
Ryan's Question: Why Does a Neurologist Talk About Relationships?
At this point, Ryan raises a question that many viewers might have.
"Parth, you are a neurologist. Why do you talk so much about relationships? From what I have seen, doctors generally prescribe medicines when we fall sick. They don't usually talk about these things. Right?"
Parth's answer reveals the philosophy behind his approach to medicine and human development.
"A doctor is also a human being.
He has a body, he has a mind, and most importantly, he is life.
If your understanding of a doctor is that he should only prescribe medicines while completely ignoring the larger experience of being human, then you are setting a very limited example for the next generation.
Medicine has an important place. When the body is sick, medical intervention can be essential. When someone has a neurological or psychological condition, appropriate diagnosis and treatment matter immensely.
But is health merely the absence of disease?
Is the purpose of medicine only to keep treating illness, without asking how human beings can live healthier, more meaningful and more conscious lives?
My understanding is simple: life, life and life alone.
I don't care whether I have studied medicine, neuroscience or any other discipline. If my understanding of these subjects cannot contribute to humanity, I must question how I am using that knowledge.
I do not want generations of human beings to become dull, rigid and disconnected, dependent only on external interventions to manage their existence.
Medicine must treat illness. But our understanding of health must also embrace the quality of human life."
This is an important distinction: medicine and inner development need not contradict each other. They can complement one another.
Medical science helps us understand and treat disease. Psychology helps us understand thoughts, emotions and behaviour. Yoga offers a discipline through which we can explore our relationship with ourselves and existence.
Each has its place in the larger journey of human wellbeing.
Stop Pretending to Meditate. Start Learning to Live.
Parth brings the conversation back to its original question: why did Ryan experience that profound state during the session, but could not recreate it later?
The answer, in Parth's framework, is that yoga cannot be reduced to reproducing a particular experience.
A moment of stillness, a feeling of bliss or a temporary absence of bodily sensation may be deeply meaningful. But the purpose of inner practices is not to become dependent on a particular experience or on another person's presence to access it.
Nor should the absence of bodily sensation be treated as a goal or proof of spiritual progress.
The deeper question is what happens to your relationship with life.
Can you remain inwardly balanced while participating fully in the world?
Can you engage with people without constantly carrying psychological conflicts?
Can you work, love, learn, explore, disagree and respond to life without being consumed by your likes and dislikes?
That is a much more meaningful inquiry than simply asking how long you can remain in meditation.
Parth concludes:
"Fix your relationship with the whole.
Don't just pretend to meditate and practise yoga while continuing to hate the world, avoid people and remain disturbed by everything around you.
If your eyes are closed and you experience peace, but the moment you open them you return to conflict, perhaps you need to look more deeply into your understanding of yoga.
The world is not something you must escape from to discover yourself.
Your relationship with the world is itself an opportunity to understand yourself.
First learn to be at ease with yourself. Then learn to be at ease with your family, your society, humanity, nature and existence.
Yoga is not about withdrawing from life.
It is about discovering a way to participate in life without losing yourself."
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The Real Question Is Not Whether You Can Meditate. It Is Whether You Can Live.
Perhaps the greatest misunderstanding about spirituality is that peace belongs somewhere outside ordinary life.
People search for it in silence, in isolation, in distant places and in extraordinary experiences.
But what happens when the meditation session ends? What happens when the eyes open, the phone rings, relationships demand attention and life presents its usual challenges?
Does the peace disappear?
If it does, perhaps there is still something to understand.
The possibility of yoga is not merely to experience a few moments of stillness. It is to transform the very way we participate in existence.
Beyond the body. Beyond the mind. Beyond likes and dislikes. Not away from life, but deeply involved in life.
That is where the journey of Yoga begins.
— Dr. Parth
Founder & Director, AMRQH®
Originator, Shoonya Ecosystem
AMRQH® — From Hospital to Harmony.
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