“Why do you ask ‘How are you?’ every day? Out of love? No. Out of compassion? No. Out of consciousness? Absolutely not. You ask because you have nothing real to say, so you borrow society’s ready-made line. It’s a substitute for presence. You are not being with the other person—you are performing. It is mechanical.
And the tragedy is, the other person also knows the script. They will say, ‘I’m fine.’ Even if they are dying inside, they will say, ‘I’m fine.’ This is not communication. This is social hypocrisy disguised as kindness. Two robots bumping into each other, repeating old programs.
Have you ever watched? When you ask ‘How are you?’ do you even care to listen to the answer? Before they finish, you have moved on to your next line. This question is not for them—it is for you. To avoid silence. Because silence frightens you. You ask to fill the gap. The question is not love, it is fear.”
Master: Tell me, have you ever asked someone, “How are you?” Of course, you have. Everyone does. We call it courtesy. We call it care. But is it? Or has it become a ritual you no longer question?
Pause for a moment and reflect: Why do you ask this question so often? Is it because you truly wish to know their inner state? Or because society taught you to fill silence with words? If the answer is almost always the same—“I’m fine,” “All good”—what is the real purpose? This is not a small thing. A question repeated daily becomes a ritual. And rituals, even invisible ones, shape energy.
Seeker: A ritual? But how can a simple greeting do that?
Master: What is a ritual if not a repeated act that shapes the mind and energy? Every day, millions repeat the same question, and millions repeat the same kind of answers. This question is not neutral. It demands identification. The moment you ask, the person begins searching for a label: I am tired… I am happy… I am stressed. These words are not just sounds; they are seeds. Once spoken, they bind the mind to a state. The person who was only momentarily anxious now becomes “I am anxious.” The one who was simply quiet now feels “I am lonely.” Do you see? Words turn passing clouds into heavy stones.
Seeker: But isn’t this a way to show kindness, to connect?
Master: Care does not demand interrogation. Presence is deeper than questions. When you look at someone with full attention, without seeking an answer, without judgment—that is true kindness. That gives peace. Asking “How are you?” is often a ritual of noise. It fills space, but it empties awareness.
Seeker: And does this ritual affect the one who asks?
Master: Because the question opens a channel of energy. Their answer, whether heavy or hollow, flows into your field. Ten people, ten moods—you become a mirror for burdens that are not yours. And for them, it reinforces identification with passing states. Instead of freeing awareness, you drag them deeper into the drama of me and my story. Both become entangled. This is why it is a ritual of unconsciousness.
Seeker: But can’t this question help someone become aware of their feelings?
Master: Awareness is born in silence, not in social performance. When someone answers out of habit, they do not reflect—they fabricate. And even if they speak truth, notice how the mind clings to the label: I am sad, I am anxious. Real awareness needs no labels. But if you wish to use the question, turn it inward. Ask yourself: How am I now? Make it a meditation. Sit quietly. Watch without judgment. That question, when asked to yourself in silence, opens the door to awakening. When asked to others as a ritual, it closes the same door.
Seeker: Then what should we do instead?
Master: Replace the question with presence. Offer a blessing instead of a burden. When you meet someone, let your first thought be: May this soul be at peace. May their path be light. If you must speak, say words that uplift: “It’s good to see you.” “May your day be bright.” These words do not demand identity; they free it.
Break the unconscious ritual. Stop asking from habit. Start blessing with awareness. When the world stops performing kindness and begins radiating presence, it will know love again.
