The Two Polarities of Mind: Here's how to deal with the oscillating nature of the mind
- Aathman Awareness Centre

- 7 hours ago
- 4 min read
-By Shubham Singh

Since the beginning of my sadhana, HH Guruji Sundar gave me a direction that seems simple on the surface but unfolds endlessly in depth: go into the mind, understand its ways, and remain aware of whatever it is doing.
At first, this feels like observing thoughts - seeing what arises, what fades. But as time passes, one realises that the mind is not a fixed thing. It is a process, constantly changing, constantly creating.
Even after years of watching, it still surprises. It creates new patterns, new identities, new reactions. That is why no one can ever fully “finish” understanding the mind. It is like trying to map something that keeps reshaping itself.
But somewhere along this journey, something deeper can happen. Not by effort, but by grace. One begins to see that I am not the mind. This is not an idea or belief. It is a direct recognition. In that moment, a subtle gap appears. The mind continues its activity, thinking, reacting, feeling, but there is a distance now.
Before, there was complete identification: I am angry, I am happy, I am disturbed. Now, there is clarity: anger is arising, happiness is arising, disturbance is arising. This shift is small in appearance, but it changes everything. The doer dissolves into a watcher.
Now, if you observe carefully, you will see how the mind moves. When life is going well, when your sādhana feels deep, when energy flows upward, when there is lightness, love, and even a sense of bliss, the mind becomes absorbed in that experience. It enjoys it. It clings to it.
At that time, we rarely question anything. We assume this is the truth. We call it progress, growth, or even enlightenment. But in reality, it is still a state, which is indeed beautiful, but temporary.
Then, inevitably, the energy shifts. The same mind that was full of love may suddenly feel empty. The same clarity may turn into confusion. Negativity may arise without reason. Even if someone speaks positively, the mind may interpret it negatively. It may even begin to doubt spirituality itself, the very thing that once gave it joy. This is what we call a “down phase.”
But if seen deeply, both the “high” and the “low” are movements of the same mind.
The mind cannot remain stable. Its nature is movement. It swings like a pendulum, going from one side to the other. Today it clings to joy, tomorrow it clings to sorrow. One day, it is full of devotion; the other day, it questions everything. And because we are identified with it, we feel as if we are rising and falling. But the real path is not in these movements.
The real path is the middle. Not the middle as in a dull, lifeless state, but a deeper stillness that is untouched by both extremes. A space where highs and lows are seen, but not owned.
When it becomes clear that I am not the mind, then something shifts in how these polarities are experienced.
The high comes, you watch it.
The low comes, you watch it.
Neither is rejected, nor is chased.
Both are allowed, but neither is taken as the truth.
Because the truth is that which does not come and go.
Another subtle nature of the mind is its tendency to cling. It clings to pleasure. It clings to pain. It clings to the identity that I am this kind of person, I am progressing, I am failing, I am the watcher. But something very interesting happens when the mind is observed without interference. It loses its strength.
When you are unconscious, the mind is powerful; it can take you anywhere. But when you look at it directly, with simple awareness, it becomes quieter. It almost feels as if it is being exposed. Its patterns become visible, and in that visibility, they begin to dissolve.
It is as if the mind cannot fully operate when it is being clearly seen.
So the practice is not to control the mind, not to force it into positivity, not to hold onto highs or resist lows.
Let the mind move.
Let it go to its two polarities.
But maintain the same awareness in both.
When there is bliss, watch.
When there is heaviness, watch.
Because neither is permanent, nor does it define you.
This inquiry into the mind is not new. It has been asked by those who walked this path long before us.
Gorakhnath asks:
“If the mind is restless like the wind, who is it that knows this restlessness?”
Vasistha asks:
“That which observes the mind—can it ever be disturbed by what it observes?”
Atri asks:
“If thoughts come and go, what is it that remains to witness their coming and going?”
Yama asks:
“When the mind becomes silent, what remains that neither arises nor fades?”
And HH Guruji Sundar says:
“Always mingle with positive-minded fellow seekers, who can easily bring you out of your misery.”
These are not just philosophical questions. They are directions.
If you truly look into them—not intellectually, but through direct observation—you will begin to see something very simple and very profound:
The mind moves.
The states change.
The experiences come and go.
But that which is aware of all this… does not move.
Remain there. Just Be.
Always remember: "Tapas will burn all the negative orientation of your mind," - HH Saint Sundar.



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