Dharma – The Balanced Equation

Transform Anger into Love: A Simple Ritual

Don’t you just love those moments when you think you’ve got life figured out, and then—bam—the universe sends a gentle (or not-so-gentle) reminder that there’s always more work to do? Yesterday was one of those moments for me. After what felt like a very long week, I visited my beautiful teacher. I’d gotten caught up in my own thoughts and tasks, letting the noise of the week, work, and the infamous “cactus incident” dominate my focus. My teacher saw it immediately, calling me out on my lack of presence. She said she felt anger in me. I was resentful, but I hadn’t been aware of the proximity of my feelings of anger. Astounded, I knew she was right.

Walking afterward, I tried to understand why this anger had suddenly bubbled up. I reflected on why I was so frustrated and found myself feeling resentment toward people in my life who, for one reason or another, seemed unwilling to take charge of their own healing. But rather than let this anger control me, I decided to take a creative approach to transform it. The ritual I created made me feel so empowered that I wanted to share it with you, in case you’re also feeling the weight of emotions you’d rather not carry.

The Ritual: Pouring Out Anger, Pouring In Love

This ritual is a simple way to shift anger, fear, or frustration into love, hope, and gratitude. Simon Haas explains in The Book of Dharma that it’s essential to treat the here and now—the “field of now”—as a sacred place. When we take care of our inner world, we create the space to nurture our highest self.

The idea is to transform what feels negative into something nourishing, like turning air into water in a jug. Or, if you prefer, you can expel the air (negative emotions) by replacing it with water (love). Here’s how I did it:

Set Up a Sacred Space
Find a quiet place where you won’t be disturbed. Gather a jug (or any vessel that feels significant), a candle, and a glass of water. The jug represents your heart—where all emotions reside. Lighting the candle is important, spiritually fire often represents transformation, purification and rebirth.
Pour Out the Anger
As you hold the jug, take a deep breath and begin verbalizing everything you’re feeling. Let it all out, there’s no one to hear or judge—your frustrations, disappointments, fears, resentments. Let your words flow into the jug, as though you’re physically pouring the anger out of you. Imagine that every emotion, every word, is leaving you and settling into the jug.
Pour In Love, Hope, and Gratitude
Take your prepared water and begin to pour it into the jug slowly. As you do, focus on feelings of love, hope, and gratitude. Imagine each drop of water washing away the negative emotions, replacing them with compassion, peace, and joy. Just as a swan is said to be able to extract milk from water, we, too, can learn to separate the good from the unwanted. By pouring in these positive feelings, we’re consciously choosing to let go of anger and welcome in love instead.
Reflect on Your Intention
Once the jug is filled, take a moment to focus on the peacefulness you feel. Commit to nurturing your inner world with the same care and intention, understanding that what we choose to focus on will come to pass.

The Power of Transforming Your Inner World

In The Book of Dharma, Simon Haas explains that protecting our inner world requires us to recognise when disabling forces, like anger and fear, are present. He outlines three stages of conscious creation, each representing a different level of awareness and ability:

Stage One: We recognise negative forces only after they’ve caused damage. In hindsight, we can see how fear or anger led to rash choices we later regretted. This stage teaches us to see the impact of negativity on our lives, even if only after the fact.
Stage Two: We become aware of negativity as it enters, without letting it control us. At this level, we’re wise enough to pause and avoid decisions while we’re compromised by negative emotions. This is where we begin noticing our feelings as signals, guiding us to protect our inner world before harm is done.
Stage Three: We recognise negative forces as they begin to form and are able to transform them into something positive. In this stage, we can replace anger and fear with love, hope, and gratitude. It’s here that conscious creation comes alive because we’re not just reacting—we’re actively cultivating the emotions we want to experience.

Just as filling a jug with water replaces the air within, filling our hearts with positive emotions like love, hope, and gratitude leaves no room for anger or fear.

My Journey of Transformation: From Anger to Peace

After leaving my teacher, I was surprised to find how deeply this anger ran. I’d spent so much time tending to my responsibilities and others’ needs that I’d let frustration fester. Walking later, I listened to The Book of Dharma, and it felt like Haas was speaking directly to me. I realized that I had failed to recognise the disabling force of anger creeping into my world. But thanks to my teacher’s insight, I could now see it clearly—and I was ready to transform it.

This ritual of pouring out the anger and filling the jug with gratitude, love, and hope felt like a powerful act of self-care. It reminded me that while I can’t control everything around me, I can choose how to respond. By shifting my focus to the good, I felt my perspective expand and my heart feel lighter.

Moving Forward With Love

This ritual is one I’ll turn to whenever I feel negative emotions trying to take over. The lesson here is that while we can’t always prevent anger, fear, or frustration from arising, we can choose how to respond. By treating our minds and hearts as sacred places, we allow love, hope, and gratitude to replace the things we don’t need to carry.

If you find yourself overwhelmed by emotions that feel too big to hold, try this ritual. Let it be a reminder that you have the power to create a peaceful inner world, one drop at a time. May we all keep finding ways to transform our lives, turning anger into love, fear into hope, and challenges into lessons.

The Four Dharma Principles for Peace and Clarity

In 2016, I found myself lying on my bathroom floor, utterly spent from yet another round of chemo. I was somewhere between exhaustion and sheer determination. I started listening to Yoga and the Dark Night of the Soul by Simon Haas on Audible. As I have already mentioned, I was searching for anxiety antidotes. That book opened the door to new possibilities. A new way of thinking and over time, a new way of being. Soon enough, I had The Book of Dharma lined up. It was set to be my next dose of inspiration.

As the YogiCFO, I aim to balance Dharma and Data. I thought now is a good time to introduce Dharma.

I was drawn to yoga when I heard it described as the “Science of the Mind.” This wasn’t about blind faith or dogma. It was about trying things out and seeing what worked. I kept only what resonated with me. That same spirit of experimentation drew me to dharma. In ancient Indian texts, dharma was the set of principles used to guide sovereigns in ruling wisely. And, after facing cancer, I came to realize I was my own “sovereign” in the truest sense. Cancer made one thing clear: every choice I made came with consequences, and only I could walk that journey. I wanted my decisions to be rooted in wisdom, not fear. I realised life was short, and prior to this, I was not really fulfilling my potential.

For me, dharma has been less of a rulebook and more of a compass, as Simon Haas describes it. It’s a way to navigate life with purpose by holding close four principles: Truth, Purity, Non-Violence, and Discipline. I’m not here to tell anyone else how to live. I can say that these principles have offered me a lifeline when I needed one. Through the storms of cancer treatment and chronic pain, facing the haunting fears of recurrence, and learning to find peace in solitude, dharma has been a gentle guide back to myself. Here’s how each principle has shown up for me.

Truth: The Art of Being Honest with Myself

Truth sounds straightforward, right? Just be honest. But after a cancer diagnosis, honesty takes on a new level. I convinced myself for a while that I was okay, that I was moving forward without fear. But if I was honest, I was living with a constant, nagging worry about recurrence. Truth, I learned, isn’t about pretending to be fearless or always having it together—it’s about admitting when I don’t.

These days, Truth means being real about my fears and not burying them under a mask of “I’m fine.” Sometimes, that’s admitting I’m scared or that I’m not okay. By acknowledging what’s really going on, I can acknowledge it, notice how it makes me feel and let it go. Truth, as it turns out, has been a source of freedom for me. It allows space for the parts of myself that need compassion. This is much better than denial.

Purity: Clearing Out the Clutter to Find Peace

Purity isn’t about some impossible level of perfection; it’s about clarity. For me, this principle became vital as I learned to manage chronic pain. Pain is exhausting—mentally, emotionally, physically. If I let my mind fill up with resentment, it only worsens the situation. Adding frustration is like fueling an already intense fire.

So, Purity for me is about letting go of that mental clutter and simplifying. I make time each day to clear my thoughts through meditation or writing. I let go of the “extras” that don’t serve me. Even physically, I’ve pared down my space to include only things that bring some peace or joy. Creating this clarity doesn’t make the pain go away. However, it allows me to be present with it. Instead of getting lost in the fog of frustration, I can face it directly. When I keep things clear, I feel a bit more in control. I feel this way even when the pain is out of my hands.

Non-Violence: Treating Myself with Kindness (and Forgiving the Not-So-Great Days)

Non-Violence, or Ahimsa, has been a real journey. It’s about compassion, both toward others and myself. This hasn’t come easily for me, especially when it comes to loneliness. Loneliness can make even the most grounded person feel off-kilter. But I’ve found that when I practice Non-Violence toward myself, I can transform loneliness into solitude. Solitude becomes a place where I can grow and find meaning instead of just feeling isolated.

Some days, that means I let myself rest rather than pushing through. Other days, it’s letting myself feel what I’m feeling without layering on guilt or criticism. And yes, some days it’s as simple as reaching out to a friend. I don’t have to sit with the feeling that I need to do it all alone. Non-Violence reminds me that I deserve kindness, even on the hardest days. This is one of the most powerful lessons I’ve found in dharma.

Discipline: Showing Up for Myself, No Matter What

Discipline used to feel rigid, all about self-control and willpower. But these days, discipline feels softer, like a commitment to myself. After cancer, I needed to rebuild my routines, to show up in ways that nurtured rather than depleted me. Discipline became my way of finding stability in the chaos.

Keeping a bedtime routine, doing my yoga, or sticking to my morning tea ritual are acts of discipline. They remind me I’m worth the effort. The small choices matter. Each one builds on the other. They create a foundation I can rely on even when life throws a curveball. Discipline isn’t about being harsh with myself. It’s about staying consistent with the things that help me feel grounded and whole. Over time, discipline enables freedom.

Living by Dharma as a Gentle Guide

As Haas explains, Dharma isn’t about rules. It’s more of a framework, a gentle guide that brings clarity and helps me focus on what really matters. I’m not here to preach. I won’t tell anyone else what to do. These four principles have offered me something I desperately needed: a way to live with intention. They help me stay present, choose peace over chaos, and show myself some compassion in the process.

The real beauty of dharma is that it doesn’t demand perfection. Some days I’ll nail it, and other days? Well, we all have those days. I realign with Truth, Purity, Non-Violence, and Discipline. Then I feel like I’m steering my life more purposefully. Life won’t ever be perfectly smooth. However, it feels a little lighter. It feels a little clearer. Life becomes much more manageable when I have these principles as my compass.

Finding Your Own Path

As Simon Haas explains, the power of dharma truly shines when all four principles—Truth, Purity, Non-Violence, and Discipline—work together, supporting each other to create a balanced and purposeful life. Each principle reinforces the others, guiding us to make choices with integrity, clarity, compassion, and commitment. If you’re curious about dharma, try engaging with each principle in small, manageable ways, observing how they resonate and complement each other in daily life. Or, you could read the book! The Book Of Dharma

You don’t need to dive in all at once; just allow these principles to be gentle reminders, guiding you towards choices that feel aligned. And if you feel like sharing, I’d love to hear how these ideas shape your journey. What practices or perspectives help you navigate your own path? Drop a comment below—I’d love to learn from your experiences, too. After all, we’re all finding our way, one choice at a time.

The Balance Between Rationality and Spirituality: Finding My Zen in a Spreadsheet

Hello, lovely readers! Today, we will dive into something that sounds like a contradiction but has somehow become my secret weapon: balancing rationality and spirituality. I know—it sounds like I’m trying to merge a calculator with a meditation cushion. And honestly? I am. But stick with me, because there’s some magic in finding the sweet spot between the two.

Data vs. Dharma: Why Not Both?

For most of my life, I thought I had to choose. I could be rational, data-driven, efficient—crunching numbers and organizing life with spreadsheets, knowing exactly how many grams of protein I ate that day and how many steps I took. Or I could be spiritual—connected, intuitive, meditating in the mornings and practicing yoga at sunset, finding meaning in the flow of life without needing it all quantified.

But then I realized something radical: why not both? Why couldn’t I be the Yogi CFO who finds peace in both a deep breath and a well-organized Excel sheet? And that’s where this journey really began—finding the balance between the data-driven part of me and the spiritual seeker. Because the truth is, rationality and spirituality aren’t opposites—they complement each other beautifully if you let them.

The Mood Tracker That Became My Meditation Partner

Take, for example, my trusty mood tracker. If you’re thinking this sounds like something a Type-A personality would come up with, you’re absolutely right. I wanted to understand my moods, to see if there were patterns, to make sense of the ebb and flow of emotions that seemed to have no rhyme or reason—especially after chemo and the hormonal rollercoaster of early menopause.

So, I made myself a simple mood tracker. Each day, I rated my mood from 1 to 10 and wrote down a few notes about what was happening—stressful work deadlines, a good yoga session, an argument with the toaster (you know, the usual). It wasn’t fancy, but it was honest. And after a few months, I started to notice something: there were patterns. My best days weren’t the ones where everything went perfectly—they were the ones where I had made time for myself, to breathe, to move, to be still.

And that’s when the magic happened. I started integrating my yoga and meditation practices with my data. I noticed that on the days I took even 10 minutes to do some simple breathing exercises—Nadi Shodhana (alternate nostril breathing) or 4-7-8 breath—my mood improved. When I practiced yoga, especially gentle or restorative poses like Legs Up the Wall, I slept better. The data wasn’t just numbers—it was telling me the story of what I needed to feel balanced, whole, and genuinely myself.

Using Data to Deepen Spiritual Practice

You might be thinking, “That’s great, but doesn’t tracking everything take away from the spiritual side?” Surprisingly, no. If anything, it deepened my practice. I found myself using my mood tracker not just to analyze but to reflect. On the days when my mood dipped, I’d ask myself why—and then I’d use that knowledge to make changes. If I saw that I was consistently feeling low after skipping meditation for a few days, it was like a gentle nudge from my data-driven self to get back on the mat.

And when things were going well, the tracker became a celebration of the little wins—a reminder that when I showed up for myself, when I breathed, moved, and connected, it made a difference. The rational side of me loved seeing the trends, and the spiritual side loved the reminder that taking care of myself was, in itself, a form of meditation.

A Practical Example: Bringing It All Together

Here’s how it works in practice: every morning, I start with a few minutes of meditation, just sitting quietly with my breath. After that, I open my mood tracker, rate how I’m feeling, and jot down a few notes—anything from “Slept terribly” to “Feeling grateful for the sunshine.” It’s simple, but it’s powerful.

Then I move. Some days it’s yoga—a gentle flow or some restorative poses. Other days, it’s a walk in the garden or a few stretches while I wait for the kettle to boil. And every week, I look back at my tracker. If I notice a dip, I use it as a cue to ask myself: have I been skipping my meditation? Have I been spending too much time worrying about things I can’t control?

This balance of rationality and spirituality has become my compass. The data helps me see what’s working, what’s not, and where I need to focus. The spiritual practice helps me connect, breathe, and remember that not everything needs to be fixed—sometimes it just needs to be felt.

Tips for Balancing Rationality and Spirituality in Your Life

If you’re ready to give this a try, here are some tips to help you find your own balance:

Start a Simple Tracker: You don’t need an app or anything fancy (although if you have an iPhone, the Health App included has an easy-to-use mood tracker built right in). No smartphone? A notebook will do. Each day, rate your mood from 1 to 10 and write down a few notes—what you did, how you felt, and any significant events. It’s not about over-analyzing; it’s about noticing patterns.
Integrate Breathwork: Try Nadi Shodhana or 4-7-8 breathing. Set aside five minutes each day—morning, evening, whenever you can. Notice how your body feels before and after, and make a note in your tracker. Let the data tell you what works.
Move Mindfully: Yoga is a beautiful bridge between rationality and spirituality. Poses like Legs Up the Wall are easy, restorative, and don’t require you to be flexible or fancy. Just give yourself that time to move and breathe.
Reflect, Don’t Obsess: The goal isn’t to track every detail of your life or to force yourself into rigid routines. It’s about using the information you gather to help you understand yourself better, and to be gentle when things don’t go perfectly.

The Beauty in Balance

Balancing rationality and spirituality isn’t about choosing one over the other. It’s about letting them dance together. It’s using data to help guide your spiritual growth and letting spirituality bring depth and meaning to the numbers. It’s giving yourself the tools to understand and the space to simply be.

So here’s to finding that balance—where the spreadsheet meets the meditation cushion, and where we learn that data and dharma aren’t at odds, but rather two sides of the same beautifully balanced coin.