How to Turn a Fight-or-Flight Surge Into Eternal Bliss

Cynicism does not come amiss, by Bodhangkur

 

If you’ve ever had a panic attack and thought,
“Damn, this is inconvenient,”
you’ve clearly lacked imagination.

Because with the right cultural vocabulary, a biological stress response can be upgraded to immortality. Yes, you too can turn a perfectly ordinary fight-or-flight surge into an eternal state of cosmic bliss, suitable for ashrams, biographies, and tax-free status.

Let’s begin.

 

Step 1: Have a Panic Attack, but Make It Sacred

Anyone can have a panic attack.
But only a future saint refuses to call it that.

Instead of confessing to biology, say this:

“A sudden fear of death seized me.”

Instant elevation.

Chemicals → Destiny
Sweaty palms → Revelation
Freak-out → First chapter of your hagiography

Congratulations, you’re already halfway to enlightenment.

 

Step 2: Reject All Medical and Psychological Interpretations

A normal teenager might say:

·         “I can’t breathe.”

·         “I feel strange.”

·         “Mom?”

·         “Someone call a doctor.”

But no — you transcend petty survival instincts.
You treat the whole event as a philosophical puzzle.

Ask:

“Who dies? What is death? What is the body? What is the knower?”

Notice how this cleverly postpones the need to deal with your heart rate.

 

Step 3: Apply Theoretical Advaita Vedānta as Emotional Morphine

Instead of grounding yourself, you grab the nearest metaphysical crutch:

·         “Body inert.”

·         “Self knows body.”

·         “Self cannot die.”

·         “Ātma = eternal.”

None of this is provable.
None of it needs to be.
You’re soothing your limbic system with metaphysical talcum powder.

Placeholder ontology works wonders during biological emergencies.

 

Step 4: Self-Hypnotise into a Coma Like a Prodigy

Now comes the genius move.

You hyper-focus on the Vedāntic placeholder (“I am deathless”) until it:

·         eclipses the panic,

·         monopolises cognition,

·         becomes the only running script.

This is not insight.
This is high-grade self-hypnosis:

·         narrow bandwidth,

·         no competing data,

·         single-point fixation.

And like any deep trance, and Ramana was really good at trances, it produces:

·         timelessness,

·         spacelessness,

·         numbness,

·         stillness,

·         a sense of “absolute reality”.

Voilà — panic attack defeated by attentional absolutisation.

 

Step 5: Declare the Afterglow to Be Enlightenment

Once the biological storm subsides, you are left with:

·         a quiet nervous system,

·         an emptied mind,

·         a lingering sense of unreality,

·         a memory of intense inner focus.

Instead of calling it,
“post-adrenergic dissociation,”
use the far more appealing:

“Absorption in the Self continued unbroken from that moment on.”

Self with a capital S.
As in: the universal, cosmic, primeval, absolute, eternal Self.

Capitalisation is half the miracle.

 

Step 6: Build an Identity on the Aftermath

Now that the panic is gone, commit to the bit.

Repeat the state.
Practice the focus, for a couple of years at least, in a cave, on a mountain, in South India.
Synchronise the mind with its own quiet core.
And eventually — honestly —
you will feel peaceful, steady, unthreatened.

Let people decide this is:

·         samādhi,

·         nirvāṇa,

·         the 4th,

·         God-consciousness,

·         Brahman-realisation.

Never disabuse them of the notion.

You’re not lying —
you’re allowing mythopoesis.

 

Step 7: Retroactively Mythologise the Event

Later, with followers, publishers, and photographers:

·         Add corpse-imitation,

·         Add rigor mortis,

·         Add the cremation ground,

·         Add the “flash of living truth,”

·         Add the “current” or “force” descending,

·         Add the “fear of death gone forever.”

Congratulations!
Your panic attack now has special effects.

Hollywood would be proud.

 

Step 8: Package It as a Teaching

Now teach others a method (and which you did not use):

1.     Turn inward.

2.     Drop all references.

3.     Find the “I.”

4.     Hold it with absolute focus.

5.     Ignore everything else.

6.     Stay there.

Which is, stripped of glamour:

The basic recipe for self-induced dereferencing → blissful dissociation → and carefully cultivated inner silence.

A reliable method.
A reproducible method.
A marketable method.

With no defined outcome (“You’ll know when you get it”)

Voilà — enlightenment on demand.

 

Step 9: Enjoy Eternal Bliss and Occasional Donations

By now:

·         the panic is gone,

·         the identity is stable,

·         the story is sacred,

·         the followers are loyal,

·         the photographs are iconic,

·         and the bliss is steady.

Nature gave you fear.
Culture gave you Vedānta.
Attention gave you absorption.
Followers gave you divinity.

And at least 1 Rolls Royce

 

Conclusion: Never Waste a Good Panic (or Love) Attack

In ordinary life, a panic attack is:

·         an inconvenience,

·         something to treat,

·         something to hide.

In spiritual life, a panic attack is:

·         a portal to eternity,

·         a foundational myth,

·         a career opportunity,

·         a metaphysical IPO.

Never underestimate the creative power of a frightened mammal equipped with a dense metaphysics and a gift for sitting still.

It’s not magic.
It’s narrative engineering over biological turbulence.

And yes — this is how saints are made.

 

From fear to absolutization

Ramana Maharshi’s game

The Sri Yantra of Fear

 

 

 

 

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