In this meditation, we use the story of Kali Ma as a mirror for our own inner world. It is a space to notice what feels stuck, what feels heavy, and what may be ready to change.

I created this audio as a companion to a painting I made after a monthlong meditation sit, as a way to translate that experience into something you can feel for yourself.

You do not need to believe anything about this deity to do this. You just need to know her story to understand. Just bring your attention, your breath, and a willingness to see.

Sit, look into the eyes of Kali, and let me tell you an old story.

Here is the full transcript of the story of Kali Ma and the meditation practice.

Long ago, when the world was still young and full of shadows, something ancient began to rise.

Not just a creature, but a force inside all beings.

It came like a storm, laughing, demanding, devouring.

Wherever it moved, it wanted more.

More praise, more power, more control.

It could not be reasoned with.

It could not be satisfied.

It was not just a monster.

It was the ego made flesh.

It burned villages, shattered temples, and made even the gods tremble.

Worse still, every time someone struck it down, its blood hit the ground.

And from that blood, a copy of that being would rise.

Every womb gave birth to another self. The more it was fought, the more it multiplied.

This being was not content with the earth.

It began climbing toward the heavens to steal the thrones of the gods themselves, according to the old Hindu myth.

And then the gods whispered the name of this being.

But when they whispered it, they whispered it in fear.

Raktavija.

The gods had faced many demons before, but this one could not be defeated by force alone.

So they did what they always had done in the most desperate hour.

They called on her.

Her name was Durga.

Throughout the ages, she was the goddess they turned to when no one else could finish the battle.

She is where grace meets power. Where gentleness becomes fire.

Her name means the invincible one and she who eliminates suffering.

Durga came into being through the light of all the gods.

Each one gave her their power, their weapon, their faith.

And she rode into battle on a lion with fire in her eyes.

She fought that demon fiercely with every weapon in creation.

But even Durga could not stop the blood from falling.

Even she could not halt the ego’s endless replication.

And so, from the heat of her frustration and the depths of her knowing, Kali was born.

She burst from Durga’s brow like a flame from a storm cloud.

Her skin was black and blue as deep space.

Her hair flew wild.

Her tongue hung long and red from her mouth.

Around her neck was a garland of skulls.

In her hands, she held the tools of truth and time.

Kali did not ask.

She did not hesitate.

She stormed into the battlefield and began to devour.

She caught every drop of the demon’s blood before it could touch the earth.

And she drank it all.

And so, at last, he was destroyed.

Not by power alone, but by the force that swallows illusions whole.

But ego, once swallowed, can still burn inside you.

Kali could not stop.

She raged on, drunk on justice and holy fire.

She struck down everything in her path.

The world held its breath.

Then from the edge of the battlefield came Shiva.

The god of stillness. Of presence. Of pure being.

And he laid down in her path, offering nothing but himself.

When Kali’s foot landed on his chest, she stopped.

She looked down and saw the one who loved her.

And at that gaze, she remembered herself.

Her eyes widened. Her tongue pulled back.

And with that breath, the fury passed.

And that is why she is remembered today.

Kali is not just a goddess of destruction.

She is the mirror of truth.

She teaches that the ego cannot be fought with fists alone.

It must be faced, swallowed, and transformed.

Durga reminds us that love can fight and protect and rise.

Kali reminds us that even the fiercest force must one day return to stillness.

So as you sit with this image, let your body be still.

Let your gaze settle gently on her eyes.

Kali Ma.

Let them meet yours.

She does not look away.

She does not flinch.

She has seen it all.

The fear, the pretending, the hiding, the harm.

Now let your own seeing deepen.

Notice the skulls that hang around her neck.

Each one was once a hindrance.

Each one a lie shed, a mask removed, a fear devoured.

They are not trophies of violence.

They are symbols of what she has helped you let go.

Kali Ma is a scary being to look at until you realize she is there to eat your pain.

Your fear.

And the things that stand in your way of your spiritual path.

Now ask yourself quietly inside.

What in me is ready to be released?

What part of me is clinging to something that no longer serves?

You do not need to name it out loud.

Just see it.

See it in her eyes.

Feel it.

Let it rise.

And now, if you are willing, offer it to her.

Let Kali take it.

Not with anger, but with fierce compassion.

You do not have to believe in Kali.

You do not have to think that she is real.

You only have to believe that there is something inside of you that is ready to transform.

Whatever that part of you is, give it away to that part.

There is no judgment.

There is no shame.

There is only transformation.

Let her wear it as a skull around her neck.

Not to shame you, but to remind you.

You are not that fear anymore.

Take your time.

Look into her eyes.

You are safe to change.

You are allowed to release.

You are allowed to be free.

Let her show you what it feels like to stand in your ruthless liberation.

Feel what it is to be still with the groundlessness.

You do not have to be Hindu.

You do not have to believe in Kali Ma.

You do not have to be or believe anything.

But the truth inside of you.

Let the truth inside of you be alive.

Believe in your truth and your power to transform.

The fire of transformation is not out there.

It is here, now, in this moment, in this body, in this breath.

In this breath.

And you have already begun.

The rest of us sit at home watching Star Search trying to forget what day it is.

Can I offer myself the same softness I rush to give someone else? Can I celebrate my own survival? My own becoming?

This episode of Meditation Club is a practice called Metta Meditation. Metta means loving-kindness. It’s one of the Brahma Viharas, or as I like to call its,
the four divine vibrations of the heart:

Metta is about generating good vibes on purpose. Not waiting until I feel loving. Not waiting until life calms down. Practicing and generating the vibe of love before I get caught on the high way with a jerk that cuts me off. I’m ready for the jerks before I even meet them because of Metta.

It is, practicing safety before I feel threatened.

Practicing ease before I’m overwhelmed.

This is grown-man work, son.

Usually, we do this, picturing people outside of ourselves, but today we’re doing it for us, to us, about us, with us. Cause, this is how I’m going to boo me.

I learned this from a great teacher and practitioner Joshua Alafia.

Boo-bop-bin-bing-boo-bop-bam.

Here’s how it goes in short - we offer the same phrases over and over:

May you be happy.
May you be safe.
May you be protected.
May you be at ease.

-

This isn’t therapy.

It’s cultivation. It’s a valentines day date with yourself for 20 minutes. Do this alone. Do this with your lover. Do this with your kids. Do this in your car. Just do this.

I’m boo’ing me this year.

And hopefully building a heart that doesn’t collapse when love gets complicated.

This one is different. This is my remix on an ancient Tibetan meditation practice.

You can do this with my guided recording or do it with the sound in your room. No sounds are off limits. Or bad sounds. There is no such thing as a distraction from the meditation because all your sensations and sounds and thoughts and feelings are all a part of the meditation.

In this practice, the anchor is listening with the breathing. Not listening to anything in particular, but listening itself. Placing your attention fully in the ears and letting sound be the doorway into presence.

Breathing and listening work together as the anchor.

When attention wanders, as it always does, it doesn’t wander to something wrong. It wanders to seeing, thinking, tasting, feeling, remembering, planning. All normal. All human.

When that happens, the instruction is simple. Quietly say to yourself, “drifting.”

No judgment. No correction. Just noticing the movement of attention and gently returning to listening or breathing. Do this with gentleness.

Not because you did it wrong, but because noticing and coming back is the entire point.

That’s the whole practice.

Not staying perfectly still.
Not emptying the mind.
Just noticing where attention goes and coming back, again and again.

This is a love practice.
For attention.
For awareness.
For being here.

And when we do this, we see more clearly the hooks. And when we see the hooks more clearly, we are less hooked.

Don’t forget to enjoy the practice.