Jacob’s Ladder

Raffles at Zorlu

Istanbul, 10.02.2025

A year later, I am here again, on my yoga mat with Yara Ulcay, tears of gratitude falling off my cheeks. Last January, it was her who held me in her center when I was completely off balance, arriving in Turkey not knowing what was going to happen.

It’s not that I know now—on the contrary. It’s more and more unknown. One thing has changed: I am back in my center thanks to Kriya Yoga practice.

Last February, I visited the ashram of Yara’s guru, Paramahansa Vishwananda, in Germany, right after my birthday. I had mixed feelings about this visit and about him as well.

Two months prior, his incredible smile greeted me on social media, and I was in awe, perceiving his Guru in his face—without a doubt, it was divine presence.

I was blessed to receive his Darshan and saw him again in Bali later last year.

Today, Yara and I discussed the possibility of interviewing him, as I am starting a new chapter of my journey: sharing the knowledge I received from living Kriya Yoga Masters - they are much more compentent than I to do that. 

There are many of them on the planet in these turbulent times, and each of the ones I met brought new pieces of the puzzle into my own Kriya map and enhanced my practice.

I am not a teacher. 

It’s a blessing not many people can receive in their lifetime. 

I am a great student, and I’m really good at finding the best teachers—or maybe it’s God who is very good at finding good students.

One way or the other, I am back in Turkey after a year of mad travels. We didn’t make it to the World Sacred Spirit Festival in Nagaur because I got very sick. 

After three blissful weeks in PachaMama Ecovillage in Costa Rica, eating clean vegetarian food and not drinking any Coca-Cola, my body felt violated when I stuffed it with excellent French fries and liquid sugar at Sakhalin Istanbul—one of my favorite restaurants in Istanbul before I turned into an aspiring vegetarian.

Be careful what you wish for.

Today, I went into the shopping mall to get some socks from Visvim. They only had two pairs left; I am happy with that too. It’s a Japanese brand created by an ex-Burton designer who decided to give a chance to dying Japanese ateliers. All items are crafted in Japan: a different person makes all the buttons, another handles knitwear, another dyes, and another the zippers. Their socks are very durable, super comfortable, and they support craftsmanship—no wonder I came back. (I also lost both pairs last year.) That was the nice aspect of shopping.

After 30 minutes in the labyrinth, anxiety attacked. I felt like a mouse in a maze, not being able to get out. My attention was jumping from shop to shop, scanning in my head what else I might need, when what I really needed was to get out of there. 

It’s not easy. 

The floors are designed so that even if you are on the stairs, you cannot immediately exit from all levels. You are required to stay in the maze.

It was raining and hailing outside. People were rushing inside to hide; I was rushing outside to breathe.

For 20 years, I was stuck in shopping addiction. It still holds a grip on me to a certain degree and is very dangerous. This is not real life. We do not need 99.99% of these things. It is conditioning, desire, greed, and feeling not good enough that enslaves us in these corridors of false promises. Each level of the shopping mall is designed for a different group of buyers—it’s manipulation at the highest level.

Of course, on a bigger scale, it’s the same thing: cars, houses, yachts, planes, jewelry, private islands, custom-made everything. It never ends.

Spiritual life is no different: my guru is better than your guru,this ashram versus that ashram,this yoga lineage is the only one,and only I am right, and you are wrong. Division on top of division.

I’m a happy hippie now. What a paradox. I get to observe all this while still in it; still playing the same game. Wasting time on social media but learning a lot from it at the same time.

Dopamine addiction is developed.

I’m about to change my iPhone for an old Nokia for a bit to check whether I am actually able to do it.

WhatsApp makes life so easy, communication so easy, that I keep forgetting that life is actually happening inside of my heart and outside of this little screen I am typing on.

The consciousness that I am longs for nature. I am so excited to be back in Ibiza, roaming the hills in peace and silence.

Margot and I started a YouTube channel and recorded some material while in Costa Rica. It went viral.

We have a studio in Ibiza where all of us can share with our friends our discoveries on the path. My intention is to keep using the gift of my voice in the best of possible ways: by staying in silence and asking better questions. 

My idea was to stop the blog altogether. 

It seemed like a waste of time. 

Same with YouTube. 

I am doing it but feel that this is nothing compared to what I know, what I was blessed with. 

I am trying, learning how to express myself in the best ways. Margot says: You have to be provocative and tempt people with controversial statements so they watch the videos. I love her, but she’s missing the point. 

I am not recording this for people. I am recording all this for the algorithm—not the social media algorithm, which is a tiny little bug influencing our life like influenza, but the big algorithm that we live in.

The so-called reality molds itself according to how my belief system changes. Each meditation I attempt to sit in, no matter how short; each Kriya practice; each Rudolf Steiner I listen to; each Swami Rama lecture I absorb; all masters in all forms—including fresh spinach on my plate—are here to show me that the social ladder exists everywhere, in every universe, on all levels. 

The only ladder I am still willing to climb is Jacob’s.

Thanks God for The Ritman Library.

Viviana Czapracka Gogacz