My exploration of intermittent fasting began in 2021, during a period when I was dealing with ongoing health challenges. At the time, I did not know whether this approach would work. I only knew that I needed to better understand how my body and mind responded to change.

The initial motivation was simple and practical. I wanted to reduce excess body weight so that strain on my knees would lessen, running would become possible again, and maintaining a stable weight would feel realistic. Fasting was not something I saw as a philosophy or discipline. It was one of several things I chose to explore while trying to improve my overall well-being.

There was no shortage of advice around intermittent fasting. Articles, experts, corporate wellness programs, videos, and social media all promoted different approaches. Much of it felt strongly opinionated. Very little of it felt applicable to me. My food habits, vegetarian diet, physical limitations, and personal goals made it clear that I could not simply follow someone else’s plan. I was not trying to adopt a system. I was trying to observe what happened when I made small changes.

The first change was modest. I moved dinner to an earlier time. This naturally extended the pause between dinner and breakfast from about 8 to 10 hours to closer to 12. I began with one day a week and slowly increased the frequency. During the remaining meals, I paid attention to portion sizes and chose balanced, nutritious foods, guided by discussions with professionals for nutritional balance. The changes were gradual. Over time, they helped me feel more comfortable with my body and mind through awareness, and reduced the mechanical aspect of eating.

As my awareness grew, my attention turned inward. I became curious about where and how much I could extend myself. This was not a test of discipline or endurance. It came from a natural curiosity about understanding my physical and mental capacity. I began by skipping breakfast once a week. What I noticed first was not strong hunger. It was habit. When the usual breakfast time arrived, I started pausing and asking myself whether I was truly hungry. On many days, it became clear that the urge to eat was driven more by routine than by actual need.

This pause became important. It helped me distinguish between nourishment and automatic response. Awareness mattered more than restraint. To support this, I leaned more deliberately into prayer, meditation, and yoga, with the intent of staying present and observing what was arising.

Gradually, subtle shifts became noticeable. Some days the pause was steady but on other days, it was not. These practices helped me stay with sensations and thoughts without rushing to act on them. Fasting began to feel less like avoiding food and more like a way to observe how the body and mind communicate. As I stayed with the practice and with self-awareness, I found that I could gradually extend fasting on some days from 16 hours to 20 hours, without forcing it. At times, slowing my breath for a few quiet minutes (with pranayama) created enough space to check in again with my body and mind. At the same time, it became clear how stress, emotions, and external pressures could easily disturb the balance I was trying to maintain. These moments were not failures but observations.

There were also days when the inquiry did not hold. At times, listening to my body meant eating, without guilt or explanation. Over time, I learned that knowing when to continue and when to stop was part of the exploration itself.

My yoga practice at Yagnyashala quietly connected these experiences. The emphasis on pausing, reflecting, and staying engaged allowed fasting and self-observation to come together naturally.

For me, intermittent fasting became less about rules and more about staying with experience. It encouraged me to pause, reflect, and observe without rushing toward conclusions. Over time, fasting felt less about time without food and more about noticing how the body speaks, how the mind responds, and how easily both can slip into routine.

In that sense, this inquiry continues as an ongoing endeavor. The practice is simple, though not always easy: to pause instead of react, to reflect instead of justify, and to observe without the need to immediately change or control.

Hari Om!