If you own a computer, you are probably familiar with the term “reboot” — the process by which a computer is restarted. Why bother restarting a computer? Because the longer a computer is on, the slower it often becomes due to the accumulation of countless invisible “background processes” going on behind the scenes — usually without our knowledge or consent.

So there you are, staring impatiently at your screen — waiting… waiting…. waiting — for what seems like an eternity to gain access to all that cool software you own.  What’s yours, unfortunately, has become frustratingly inaccessible.

The same phenomenon goes on inside of a human being.

During the course of a day or a week or a lifetime, all kinds of “stuff” is going on inside us — invisible stuff — the kind of stuff that bogs us down and ends up interfering, big time, with the quality of our experience.

For some of us, this stuff might show up as guilt, doubt or regret. For others, it’s fantasy, attachment or desire. And then, of course, there’s always a reliable cache of worry, sadness, anger, blame, projection and fear — a seemingly endless supply of bugs taking over our once perfect “human operating system.”

I’m not saying that human beings are computers. I’m simply noting the fact that sometimes all the stuff spinning around in our heads can have a limiting effect on us. It slows us down. It causes problems. It makes us prime candidates for a reboot — a simple way to get a fresh start.

This, in my experience, is what Prem Rawat is offering and it happens in two different ways.

When I sit down to practice the techniques he taught me for turning my attention within, I am restored to a pristine state of being — a state of optimal functioning.

The second way? Simply sitting before him and listening to what he has to say.

At that time (or should I say “timelessness”), all the static going on inside my head disappears. Sluggishness is replaced by responsiveness, fragmentation by wholeness, and all my needless spinning in space by the kind of stillness and presence I never want to end.

Illustration by Sara Shaffer.