Intensity, Passion and Devotion

For most of my life, I was told I was too intense.

Too much passion.

Too much fire.

Just… too much.

I heard it from nearly everyone except my close friends, who loved me for exactly who I was.

I was always mindful that my energy could overwhelm people.

They had no idea what living from the heart felt like.

But I did.

I knew it intimately.

And secretly…

I loved my intensity.

I loved my passion.

And I refused to let it be tamed.

Somewhere deep down, I knew it was a superpower.

And it's found its full bloom in the months after Ramana Maharshi first revealed himself as my guru.

In the weeks before that happened, I had been questioning everything.

I had seen people at the ashram praying at his photo, bowing at his shrine, walking slowly and reverently around his tomb.

But I hadn’t felt drawn to any of those things.

I wondered, what was wrong with me?

One morning, while standing in line for prasad around 10 AM, I met a Russian girl.

We started chatting.

She told me she was a journalist, and I told her I had worked in an ambulance.

We spent some of the day together.

At one point, she told me she didn’t feel any connection to this place and couldn't wait to leave.

Later that evening, we met up again at the ashram to sit for meditation.

I was shocked when I saw her praying at Ramana’s tomb.

Doing all the things I hadn’t been drawn to myself.

That’s when it hit me:

She was just pretending.

And I began to wonder…

Was everyone pretending?

Was all this bowing, this whispering of prayers, this circling, real?

What was true devotion?

Surely it wasn’t just a quick prayer.

That fire that intensity, that passion.

It didn’t disappear.

It magnified.

It grew stronger, deeper, more focused.

But now it was directed at Him.

At his form.

At his image.

At the thought of him.

The more I gave to him, the lighter I felt.

The more I surrendered, the more I smiled.

One day, sitting in the ashram, I told him straight:

I’m done.

I’ve given up.

I’m yours.

I know the price is my head and it’s a cheap price to pay.

I fully surrender.

I’ll give you my life.

Take me where I need to go.

I’m your servant.

I will serve until this body drops.

Guide me, Ramana. Guide me.

Take my life.

Take it.

Take it.

The search was over.

If he wanted me to feed people, I would

If he wanted me to be vulnerable, to share my real stories, I would.

If he wanted me to film interviews, I would.

If he asked me to jump off a bridge, I would.

Such is the intensity of my devotion.

It took me nine long years to understand what true devotion really is.

It’s not soft.

It’s not performative.

It’s not conditional.

It is the total and complete surrender to the Absolute.

All my worries.

All my fears.

All my actions.

Everything I gave it to my guru.

And the best part?

He loves my passion.

He loves my intensity.

I was laughing with my friend P this evening.

She reminded me of a conversation we’d had months earlier.

She said, “I remember you talking about devotion and how you just couldn’t understand it.”

I laughed and said,

“Yeah, I know now I fully love and am devoted to an old man who’s dead.”

We were both laughing so hard.

I was telling her how much I loved Ramana how deeply I was devoted to him.

And she could see it.

She told me, “I love this so much.”

I was finally home.

Not in a place.

Not in a temple.

But in the only place that ever mattered.

In my own heart.