Sharks, waves, and the moment everything broke open 

“In that moment, I felt an unconditional love I had never known before.” 

Vishrant shares a moment from his early thirties when life stripped him of every illusion of control, as he found himself lost at sea off the coast of Western Australia, far from help, with a damaged boat sinking beneath him, towering waves crashing every few minutes and hammerhead sharks circling as a cyclone pushed the ocean into chaos. In the freezing water watching his partner suffer from hypothermia and believing her death would be his responsibility, something inside him broke open completely, not into panic or collapse, but into a love so unconditional and vast that it eclipsed fear, blame, and self-protection all at once. 

That moment did not arrive as a spiritual insight or vision, but as a raw opening of the heart when there was nowhere left to hide, and Vishrant often points to this experience as the first time he saw clearly that love is not created by effort or practice but revealed when defences fall away. What remained with him was not the drama of survival, but the unmistakable knowing that this unconditional love was the most beautiful and truthful experience of his life, far surpassing success, achievement, or any sense of personal identity. 

They were eventually rescued and life continued, yet something irreversible had occurred because once the heart opens in that way, it cannot fully return to its former armor. Vishrant explains that although the experience was intense, its true gift was not the story itself, but the clarity it revealed about what truly matters and what quietly blocks love from being perceived. 

This breaking open was not framed as awakening at the time, but it planted a seed that would later grow into a complete reorientation of his life, values, and sense of purpose. What mattered was not that something extraordinary happened, but that for a brief moment, all protection dissolved and love was allowed to be felt without condition. 

When success becomes armor 

“The armor that made me successful was now in the way of love.” 

Before that moment at sea, Vishrant had already achieved what many people spend their lives pursuing, having retired from business in his late twenties after building a multimillion-dollar company and securing financial freedom that promised comfort and safety. Yet it became clear to him that the very qualities that supported his success, the drive, control, and emotional containment, had also hardened into armor that prevented genuine intimacy and openness. 

After tasting unconditional love in such a raw way, he found that the old identity of the successful businessman no longer fit, not because success was wrong, but because it was no longer aligned with what his heart now knew to be essential. That taste of love revealed how much effort had gone into maintaining a sense of strength and certainty, and how costly that effort had been to the heart. 

Seeking clarity, Vishrant spent five months on retreat in Italy with a spiritual teacher, not to escape life, but to understand what was now obvious yet unresolved inside him. When he returned, the insight was unmistakable; the armor was still there, and he no longer wished to live behind it. 

Rather than trying to integrate spirituality into his existing identity, he chose a far more radical honesty, walking into his companies and giving them entirely to his staff, along with offices, furniture, and outstanding debts, leaving with nothing and without a plan. This was not an act of renunciation driven by belief, but a simple refusal to continue living in a way that blocked heart. 

Walking barefoot toward the heart 

“I was looking to become a nobody going nowhere.” 

With his shoes off and his former life behind him, Vishrant began walking around Australia, not as a symbolic gesture, but as a lived inquiry into what remained when identity, status, and security were removed. He describes this period not as heroic or romantic, but as profoundly relieving, because for the first time, he was no one special with nothing to maintain. 

Living simply, sometimes relying on soup kitchens, he found unexpected freedom in anonymity, as there were no expectations to meet, no image to protect and no role to perform. In that openness, the heart naturally revealed itself, not as an emotion to chase, but as a way of being that felt beautiful, honest and deeply human. 

Vishrant often emphasizes that love is not something we generate, but something we perceive when openness is present, and that closure, whether emotional or psychological, is what obscures it. This period of becoming nobody going nowhere allowed him to see clearly how much effort goes into staying defended and how unnecessary that effort truly is. 

What emerged was a lived understanding that love does not flourish in control or certainty, but in receptivity and vulnerability, qualities that are often misunderstood or avoided in modern culture. The simplicity of that life stripped away concepts and revealed something far more direct and nourishing than any philosophy. 

Learning to serve without hiding 

“I wanted to take care of people, but I needed the skills.” 

After years of living without a fixed identity, Vishrant felt a natural movement toward service, not as a mission or calling, but as a response that arose organically from an open heart. Knowing he did not yet have the practical skills to support others responsibly, he returned to university to train as both a naturopath and psychotherapist. 

For nearly a decade, he worked in clinical practice, offering care that was grounded not only in technique, but in deep listening and presence informed by his own lived transformation. This period was not about teaching awakening but about learning how to meet people where they were, and to help them out of mental suffering. 

He shares that this phase taught him the importance of humility, structure, and responsibility, showing that openness does not replace skill, but gives it depth and integrity. Serving others became a continuation of the heart opening that began years earlier, expressed in ordinary, practical ways. 

Rather than seeking to be seen or followed, Vishrant remained focused on what genuinely helped, allowing life to shape his expression gradually and naturally. This grounded approach laid the foundation for the clarity and steadiness that later defined his way of sharing truth. 

Seeing what blocks love 

“If you cannot see what is in the way, you cannot proceed.” 

When asked what someone can do without giving up everything or walking barefoot across a continent, Vishrant points to a far simpler and more direct starting point, learning to see what blocks the heart in daily life. For him, the central obstruction was defendedness, the subtle and constant closing that protects identity but prevents love from being felt. 

He explains that openness is not a technique, but a willingness to stop contracting around beliefs, emotions, and reactions that tighten the body and mind. Any belief that creates defensiveness becomes an opportunity for inquiry, not to fix oneself, but to choose love over protection. 

This practice of openness requires honesty and courage, because it means meeting discomfort rather than avoiding it, and allowing vulnerability to be present without immediately trying to control or explain it. Over time, what initially feels frightening becomes natural, even sweet, as the nervous system gets used to openness. 

Vishrant describes this way of living as the way of the heart, often referred to as the noble path, not because it is dramatic or impressive, but because it is grounded in sincerity and care. The reward is not an experience, but a life that feels aligned, responsive and quietly loving. 

Strength, softness, and true courage 

“It takes more courage to be open than to be closed.” 

From a masculine perspective, Vishrant addresses the common fear that openness is weak, explaining through Taoist principles that true balance requires both yin and yang, receptivity and action. He notes that modern culture tends toward excessive yang, outwardness, competitiveness, and control, leaving little space for softness and genuine presence. 

Yin, which he associates with openness and receptivity, is not passive or fragile, but deeply powerful, because it allows connection, warmth, and trust to arise naturally. When someone operates from yin, others feel welcomed and at ease, whereas excessive yang often creates tension, comparison, and subtle conflict. 

He emphasizes that real toughness is not found in emotional closure or hardened identity, but in the willingness to remain open and vulnerable in a world that often rewards armor. This kind of courage is quiet and steady, rooted in the heart rather than image or performance. 

For both men and women, reclaiming yin restores balance, allowing strength to exist without contraction and love to flow without fear. In this balance, care for others arises spontaneously, not as duty, but as a natural expression of being connected to life. 

A quiet invitation into openness 

“Love is perceived when we are open.” 

Vishrant invites seekers to begin exactly where they are, not necessarily by changing their lives outwardly, but by gently noticing where defensiveness lives in the body and mind. Each moment of contraction becomes an opportunity to soften, not through force, but through willingness and presence. 

As openness becomes familiar, life begins to feel less adversarial and more intimate, even in the midst of difficulty, because the heart is no longer hidden behind constant protection. This does not remove challenges, but it transforms the way they are met, allowing love to remain accessible. 

Sit in Satsang with Vishrant and allow this openness to be supported and deepened within the buddha field, where the presence of enlightenment naturally stabilizes the heart and quiets the mind. In this simple togetherness, awakening is not pursued or achieved, but can be gently recognized as what has always been here, waiting for defenses to fall.