GOOD BYE, GOOD LUCK & GET LOST

I have said this to many people.

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

you come to my door with a collapsing body.

heavy blood.

swollen joints.

fatty liver.

high sugar.

high blood pressure.

bad digestion.

weak muscles.

broken sleep.

diabetes.

pcod.

thyroid.

addiction.

back pain.

heart disease.

kidney disease.

liver disease.

even cancer.

different names.

same root.

same body ignored for years.

same signals switched off one by one.

and the moment you stop feeding the root, the body answers back almost overnight.

sugar drops.

pressure eases.

joints loosen.

sleep returns.

the mind clears.

not because of any medicine.

because you finally listened.

you want me to do something to you.

some treatment.

some medicine.

some magic trick.

something that will repair your body while allowing you to continue living exactly as you are living.

I don't do that.

I start with the simplest things.

your food.

your sleep.

your movement.

your addictions.

your habits.

your daily life.

and I don't tell you to stop eating rice.

I don't tell you to stop drinking milk.

I don't tell you to stop eating sugar.

I don't tell you to stop drinking alcohol.

I tell you to minimise them.

take them down.

and down.

and down.

until they reach the lowest possible level at which they no longer disturb your body, your mind, your health or your life.

until they no longer control you.

until they are no longer an addiction.

no longer a craving.

no longer a habit.

no longer a compulsion.

because I know how human life works.

you have a family.

you have friends.

you have neighbours.

you have festivals.

you have weddings.

you have birthdays.

you go to somebody's house.

somebody offers you tea.

your mother serves you rice.

your friend orders food.

somebody brings sweets.

somebody insists.

"Just a little."

this is life.

I am not asking you to run away from society.

I am asking you to become free inside society.

eat a little if you want.

leave it if you don't.

take it occasionally.

don't need it tomorrow.

don't crave it tonight.

don't become angry when it is unavailable.

don't feel deprived when somebody else is eating it.

don't let one wedding become three weeks of overeating.

don't let one cup of tea become five cups every day.

don't let one drink become a weekend requirement.

don't let something you occasionally enjoy become something that owns you.

that is the point.

I want you to reach the place where you can take it or leave it.

and when I tell you this, some of you get offended.

you clutch your familiar foods and habits like favourite children.

you explain your circumstances.

you tell me about your family.

your culture.

your work.

your social life.

your stress.

your childhood.

your friends.

your festivals.

your mother.

your husband.

your wife.

your boss.

your guests.

there is always a reason.

and I understand.

but understanding your reason does not change the consequence.

so I say,

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

you leave angry.

sometimes you feel insulted.

sometimes you think I am arrogant.

sometimes you tell other people that I am too harsh.

some of you never return.

and that is fine.

I never wanted everyone to stay.

but some of you come back.

and because you came back,

we go to the next layer.

I tell you,

now move.

walk.

climb.

carry.

lift.

squat.

sweat.

use the body you have spent years avoiding.

you sit ten hours in an office.

then sit in traffic.

then sit at home.

then sit in front of the television.

then sit with the phone.

and then drive to a gym to walk on a machine.

you tell me you have no time.

you have time for meetings.

time for WhatsApp.

time for television.

time for social media.

time for arguments.

time for traffic.

time for everybody else.

but no time to use your own body.

I tell you to sleep.

you tell me you have stress.

I tell you to put the phone away.

you tell me you need it.

I tell you to go outside.

you tell me it is too hot.

I tell you to walk.

you tell me you are too busy.

so I give you something to hold onto.

black castor oil.

made by my own hands.

on a wood fire.

in my own off-grid homestead.

no factory.

no shortcuts.

you rub it over your whole body.

then you sit in a hot water bath.

every day.

and you drink five ml of it every morning.

not as medicine.

as a small daily discipline.

something to gently clean the gut while everything else in your life is being cleaned too.

one habit that asks nothing of you except consistency.

again I say,

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

this time you leave less angry.

more uncomfortable.

because somewhere inside you know I am right.

some of you never return.

some of you return again.

and we go deeper.

because your problem is no longer only food.

you are dependent.

you depend on your mother to cook.

your wife to serve.

your husband to manage things.

your parents to make decisions.

your children to obey.

your employer to give your life direction.

your doctor to take responsibility for your health.

your guru to tell you how to live.

your school to raise your children.

your phone to occupy your mind.

you don't know how to cook.

you don't know how to grow anything.

you don't know how to repair anything.

you don't know how to sit quietly.

you don't know how to make a decision without asking somebody.

you don't know how to say no to your family.

you don't know how to say no to your employer.

you don't know how to say no to society.

and you tell me you want freedom.

I ask you,

freedom from what?

you are surrounded by things you cannot leave.

food controls you.

money controls you.

work controls you.

family controls you.

social expectations control you.

your phone controls you.

your own cravings control you.

you are not free.

you are simply comfortable inside your dependencies.

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

some of you leave.

some of you stay.

and those who stay have to look at something even more uncomfortable.

your relationships.

the man who expects his wife to serve him.

the woman who has been taught that suffering silently is her duty.

the parent who thinks the child belongs to them.

the child who is never allowed to become an adult.

the father who decides his daughter's life.

the husband who decides his wife's life.

the family that decides what you study.

what you wear.

whom you marry.

where you live.

what you eat.

what you believe.

the family that treats a thirty-year-old person like a child.

everyone controlling somebody.

everyone obeying somebody.

and everyone calling it love.

tradition.

respect.

responsibility.

I start asking you about caste.

who are you willing to eat with?

who are you willing to touch?

who are you willing to marry?

whose house will you enter?

whose house will you refuse to enter?

who do you think is above you?

who do you think is below you?

what did you inherit from your family without ever questioning it?

then I ask you about class.

does money make you superior?

does poverty make somebody inferior?

does education make you a better human being?

does the person who cleans your house deserve less respect than the person who works in your office?

does the person who works with his hands become less intelligent?

does the person who serves you become less human?

then I ask you about gender.

why must a woman carry everybody?

why must a man always dominate?

why must a daughter obey?

why must a son inherit authority?

why must a wife serve?

why must a husband provide?

why must anybody fit a role simply because society assigned it to them?

you become uncomfortable again.

some of you tell me,

"Don't bring these things into health."

but they are already inside your health.

how can you live peacefully when your entire life is built on control?

how can you be free when you are constantly afraid of disappointing somebody?

how can your body relax when your mind is permanently obeying?

again,

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

some leave.

some stay.

and those who stay finally begin to see the larger machinery.

the school.

the office.

the hospital.

the market.

the corporation.

the media.

the religious institution.

the government.

the family.

you have given each of them a piece of yourself.

you let somebody else decide what your children should become.

somebody else decides when you work.

somebody else decides when you rest.

somebody else decides what you should buy.

somebody else tells you what is normal.

somebody else tells you what success looks like.

somebody else tells you what a good parent is.

a good husband.

a good wife.

a good child.

a good citizen.

a successful person.

and then you tell me you want health, freedom and peace.

I tell you,

look at your life.

you have outsourced it.

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

and then I meet another kind of person.

the rescuer.

you are always helping somebody.

you look after your parents.

your children.

your spouse.

your relatives.

your friends.

your neighbours.

your employees.

your patients.

your followers.

everybody comes to you.

and you are proud that everybody needs you.

you say,

"Without me, what will they do?"

I ask you,

why can't they do it themselves?

you cook everything for your children.

you make every decision for them.

you solve every problem before they face it.

you don't allow them to struggle.

you don't allow them to fail.

you don't allow them to become capable.

you call it love.

you call it service.

you call it sacrifice.

sometimes it is simply dependence.

you have not made them stronger.

you have made yourself necessary.

and now you cannot stop.

because being needed has become your identity.

you think that because you spend your life taking care of everybody,

somebody will eventually take care of you.

you think your sacrifice will protect you.

it won't.

your good intentions cannot protect your liver.

your service cannot protect your heart.

your generosity cannot replace sleep.

your usefulness cannot replace movement.

your love cannot cancel bad food.

your sacrifice does not make you immune to disease.

you are still a human body.

you still have to sleep.

you still have to eat.

you still have to move.

you still have to breathe.

you still have to live.

one day the great rescuer comes to me with high sugar.

high blood pressure.

obesity.

exhaustion.

broken sleep.

and a body that has finally collected the bill for twenty years of self-neglect.

and I say,

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

this one hurts.

because you thought you were the healthy one.

you thought you were the responsible one.

helping somebody does not mean carrying them.

loving somebody does not mean making yourself indispensable.

serving somebody does not mean destroying yourself.

and responsibility does not mean taking responsibility for everybody else's life.

help people become capable.

don't make them dependent.

teach them.

don't control them.

support them.

don't carry them forever.

love them.

don't own them.

and take care of yourself.

because nobody gets an exemption from biology.

not the rich.

not the poor.

not the educated.

not the uneducated.

not the man.

not the woman.

not the parent.

not the child.

not the doctor.

not the patient.

not the guru.

not the disciple.

not the rescuer.

not the rescued.

not even me.

and now we reach the final problem.

you have stayed through everything.

you have changed your food.

you have reduced your addictions.

you have started moving.

you have started sleeping.

you have questioned your family.

your caste.

your class.

your gender roles.

your institutions.

your habits.

your dependencies.

your need to control.

your need to rescue.

your need to be rescued.

and now I have to tell you something about me.

don't make me your new dependency.

don't replace your old authority with me.

don't turn me into your guru.

don't turn me into your saviour.

don't ask me what to eat every morning.

don't ask me whether you are allowed to walk.

don't ask me what to think.

don't wait for me to tell you how to live.

because then you have learned nothing.

you have simply changed masters.

I don't want followers.

I want free people.

I want you to reach a point where you can walk away from me.

where you can think for yourself.

where you can observe your own body.

where you can make your own decisions.

where you can take something or leave it.

where rice doesn't control you.

sugar doesn't control you.

alcohol doesn't control you.

your family doesn't control you.

your caste doesn't control you.

your class doesn't control you.

your gender role doesn't control you.

your employer doesn't control you.

your phone doesn't control you.

your cravings don't control you.

your rescuer identity doesn't control you.

and I don't control you either.

that is freedom.

and this is why I keep saying,

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

not to everyone.

only to the one making the excuse in that moment.

the one who wants the result without the change.

the one who wants me to fix the body while the life stays exactly the same.

that one, I send away.

so they can sit with it.

so they can come back when they are ready.

if they come back.

every time I say it, some of you leave.

you leave angry.

offended.

hurt.

sometimes convinced that I am arrogant.

and some of you stay.

not because you agree with everything I say.

but because you are willing to look again.

then again.

then again.

but even staying is not the same as changing.

most of you agree with me in this room.

you nod.

you say yes.

you mean it, in that moment.

and then you go home.

and the tea is waiting.

and the sofa is waiting.

and the family is waiting with the same old plate.

and the phone is waiting.

and you go back.

not because you are foolish.

not because you didn't understand.

because agreeing in a room is easy.

living it in your kitchen, at the wedding, at ten at night when nobody is watching, is not.

I have watched this happen more times than I can count.

people who cried in front of me and understood everything.

and were back to the same sugar, the same sitting, the same excuses, within a month.

so even your yes here is not the end of the work.

it is only the beginning of the next test.

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

every "get lost" becomes another doorway.

the first door is food.

then movement.

then sleep.

then addiction.

then habit.

then dependence.

then family.

then caste.

then class.

then gender.

then institutions.

then control.

then rescuing.

then the need to be rescued.

then the need to be rescued by me.

and finally,

the door between agreeing and doing.

the hardest one.

the one most people never walk through.

one by one, people leave.

and the few who remain are no longer looking for a magic trick.

you are willing to look at the deepest habits of your life.

the things you don't want to see.

the things you inherited.

the things you defend.

the things you call normal.

the things you call love.

the things you call culture.

the things you call responsibility.

the things you call sacrifice.

the things you call success.

the things you call freedom.

and you begin removing whatever no longer serves life.

not because I ordered you to.

because you understood.

not only in the room.

on the actual day, in the actual kitchen, when nobody is checking on you.

you don't need to become perfect.

you don't need to stop living.

you don't need to run away from society.

you don't need another rigid list of rules.

you need to become free enough to choose.

free enough to take a little.

free enough to take nothing.

free enough to stay.

free enough to leave.

free enough to help.

free enough to let others help themselves.

free enough to love.

free enough to let go.

free enough to live without being controlled.

that is what I have been looking for all along.

not obedient patients.

not followers.

not dependents.

not people who need me forever.

not people who agree with me and go home unchanged.

people who want health.

freedom.

and peace.

and are willing to go all the way down into their own lives to find them.

so I will continue saying it.

good bye.

good luck.

and get lost.

to the one making the excuse.

including you, when it is your turn.

especially you.

because if you cannot get lost from everything that controls you,

you will never find your way back to yourself.