Useless Nourishment: Ashtavakra on Feeding the Mind

“Useless nourishment is not only what you eat. Every meaningless word, opinion, and impression you consume feeds the mind. Ashtavakra calls you to drop this burden. When the unnecessary ends, revolution begins within.”

Dark foliage releasing leaves into a bright, glowing abstract landscape
Dark foliage dissolves into drifting leaves and radiant light, evoking renewal and freedom.

We are so careful about what we put into our bodies. Yet from the moment we wake, we feed our minds a steady diet of news, notifications, opinions and other people’s noise, and we rarely stop to ask whether any of it actually nourishes us.

The mind eats too

The Chandogya Upanishad (7.26.2) teaches that pure food leads to a pure mind. The Sanskrit word for food, āhāra, simply means ‘that which is taken in’, and Adi Shankara reminds us this includes everything we see and hear. In other words, the headline that unsettled us and the careless comment we keep replaying are all meals we have eaten, whether we meant to or not.

Why we feel so heavy

What we don’t need doesn’t disappear. Words keep echoing, borrowed opinions start to feel like our own, and the mind grows so restless that the moment things go quiet, we reach for our phones.

The sage Ashtavakra, teaching King Janaka, puts it simply: “If one thinks of oneself as free, one is free, and if one thinks of oneself as bound, one is bound” (Ashtavakra Gita 1.11). The weight comes not from the world, but from what we take in and refuse to put down. And, anything we are holding on to, we can let go of.

The revolution is in letting go

We usually try to grow by adding more. Another course, another book, another answer. Ashtavakra invites us to do the opposite. “Don’t let the mind hold on to anything,” he says. “You are free by nature” (15.20).

This is the revolution within. Nothing dramatic happens on the outside. We simply stop ‘doing’ long enough to remember our ‘being’.

Try this

  1. Before you scroll, pause and ask, “Will this nourish me, or just fill me up?”
  2. Notice how you feel afterwards, and take note of what leaves you drained.
  3. Give yourself a few minutes each day with nothing coming in, and let the mind rest and digest.

Peace is already here, sitting quietly beneath the noise. Our work is simply to stop feeding the noise. When the unnecessary ends, the revolution begins within.

References

  1. Ashtavakra Gita, tr. John Richards, verses 1.11 and 15.20. realization.org
  2. Chandogya Upanishad 7.26.2, on purity of food (āhāra-śuddhi). Hindupedia
  3. Adi Shankara’s commentary, quoted in Swami Yatiswarananda, Meditation and Spiritual Life (Advaita Ashrama), p. 172. Hindu Blog

The opening quote is a modern reflection on Ashtavakra’s teaching rather than a verse from the text itself.

-One Tusk supported by Claude

Book of the Month – October 2026 :

Awakening in the Final Chapter: Aging with Grace, Love, and Freedom  By Deepak Chopra

Awakening in the Final Chapter: Aging with Grace, Love, and Freedom Book Cover

Awakening in the Final Chapter is a deeply personal meditation on what it means to live fully in the face of impermanence. Drawing on a lifetime of inquiry into consciousness, spirituality, science, and human experience, Deepak Chopra reframes aging as an awakening into greater vitality, wisdom, love, beauty, creativity, and freedom. What many fear as an ending becomes, in these pages, an invitation to a more authentic and luminous way of being.

With warmth, humility, and insight, Chopra reflects on the lessons of nearly eighty years of life, exploring how presence transforms ordinary moments into sacred ones. Through personal stories, contemplative practices, and timeless spiritual teachings, he reveals that true fulfillment comes not from achievement or accumulation, but from deepening our relationship with ourselves, others, and the mystery of existence itself.

Ultimately, this book is a celebration of the enduring nature of consciousness and the extraordinary gift of being alive. It invites readers of every age to embrace life with greater wonder, gratitude, and courage, reminding us that the final chapter opens into life’s deepest meaning.

(Suggested by N.Satyendra)

Parenting – shifts from steering the boat to becoming the lighthouse….

Lighthouse shining across a winding path in a moonlit landscape
A lighthouse casts a warm beam across a winding path beneath a moonlit, star-filled sky.

There is a beautiful metaphor about parenting that has lingered in my mind ever since I first encountered it. It suggests that when our children are young, we are in the boat with them. We steady it through every wave, fasten every life jacket, answer every question, solve every problem, and quietly convince ourselves that our greatest contribution lies in protecting them from uncertainty. For a time, that is exactly what they need. Their world is our world, and our presence gives them the confidence to venture a little further each day.

Then, almost imperceptibly, something changes. They begin steering their own boats. They make decisions without asking us first, venture into unfamiliar waters, and occasionally choose routes we would never have recommended. It is a difficult transition, not because we have become less important, but because our importance has taken on a different form. We no longer sit beside them, holding the oars. Instead, we become the lighthouse, a constant presence that offers direction without taking control, reassurance without interference, and a reminder that no matter how rough the sea becomes, there is always a safe harbour to return to. The more I reflected on this metaphor, the more I realized that it describes parenting accurately.

The better parents understand that their greatest contribution is not measured by how indispensable they become, but by how confidently children perform when they are no longer in the room. Mature parents need to invest time in developing judgement instead of dependency. This transition requires restraint. It is often easier to provide an answer than to ask a thoughtful question. It is more comfortable to step in than to stand back. Yet growth rarely comes from being rescued; it comes from discovering that children are capable of navigating difficult waters themselves.

The image of the lighthouse captures this beautifully. A lighthouse does not chase ships across the ocean or attempt to control the tides. It remains steadfast, offering clarity rather than control. Its purpose is not to make every journey safe, but to ensure that even in uncertainty, sailors never lose sight of where they are or where they can return.

Maybe the highest form of parenting, is recognizing the moment when our responsibility shifts from steering the boat to becoming the lighthouse. That is the moment when influence becomes enduring, because we have stopped controlling and transitioned to being a Guiding Light.