The Audacity of Simply Being: Resting in Svarupe Vasthanam

We live in an age of constant visibility, where the self is perpetually under review—not just by others, but by the relentless internal editor who demands perfection. Our modern vrittis (fluctuations of the mind) are no longer confined to internal worry; they are tied to the external performance of wellness, success, and authenticity. We are caught in the endless loop of viewing and being viewed, crafting a ‘self’ for external consumption.

It is into this curated chaos that the simplicity of Patanjali’s third sutra, Tada Drashtuh Svarupe Vasthanam, lands like an anchor. “Then the Seer rests in its own essential nature.”

Patanjali tells us that when the mental movements are stilled (I.2), the Drashtuh—the pure Seer, consciousness itself—settles back into its authentic state. For us, the radical nature of this promise often gets lost in translation. We think of resting as lying down, or perhaps shutting off social media for an evening. But Patanjali is pointing toward an ontological rest, a deep settling in the very core of who we are, independent of the roles we play or the filters we apply.

The unique challenge of modern life is that we spend so much energy defending, adjusting, and perfecting the external narrative that we forget what the internal reality feels like. We mistake the curated self—the professional biography, the highlight reel, the ‘authentic’ vulnerability shared in a caption—for the Svarupe, the essential self. When the Seer is confused with the performance, deep fatigue sets in.

To truly practice Svarupe Vasthanam today is an act of deep internal rebellion. It means deciding that the audience is irrelevant and the stage is empty. It is the profound relief found in realizing that you do not need to check your own reflection in the eyes of others to confirm your existence. The Seer simply is. It is the permission to drop the internal critic, the digital curator, and every expectation that does not originate from your essential truth.

The greatest knowledge we can reclaim is the silent, unquestionable authority of our own being.