A Breatharian

The beauty of time lies in the remembrance that we are Love.

-Vanessa Liu

I believe food is everything. It is light manifested in our bodies, arriving to all beings the way air and sunlight arrive without effort. Today, I understand that I have always been a breatharian. When I was young, I struggled with the idea that I needed to eat. The truth is, I do not need to eat. Other people do, and I find that strange. They only need to eat in a better way, the way of light. If they remembered that their bodies are made of light, they would find consuming light to be the natural way of living.

In 2016, I decided to leave the conventional ways of our world. Deeply unhappy, I knew I had to eat differently. Living in San Francisco, I walked past restaurants every day that simply were not for me. I continued eating two meals a day because I thought it was necessary, but I struggled to find my place.

The awakening

To lessen my pain, the Buddha appeared to show me that I could eat nothing. I did not understand his message until I met a breatharian. That was when everything began to shift.

I went through a breatharian initiation, one that took me to the far edge of what I believed the human body could do. I wanted to know the truth, the real truth, not the one offered by systems or textbooks or fears. I had already been vegan for years. From there, I moved to juicing. Then to water. Then eventually to nothing. Dry fasting is the practice of taking neither food nor water and allowing the body to rely entirely on prana. Prana is the life force that surrounds everything and moves through everything. Many traditions describe dry fasting as the deepest form of cleansing and energetic recalibration. It returns the body to its original intelligence. It is known to heighten perception, repair the cells, and lift the body into a state of pure clarity.

For 22 days, I lived this truth. I ate nothing and drank nothing.

My body began to change in ways I cannot fully explain.

The initiation

My body felt lighter, and movement became effortless. Everything around me synced in a quiet, natural way. I experienced more synchronicity. I needed less sleep. Distractions faded. I realized I no longer needed a refrigerator because nothing called to me. Walking through the grocery store felt unreal, like being inside a painting where everything pretended to be food. I never felt hungry. I did feel thirsty for a short time, and that sensation disappeared.

Cravings became energetic rather than physical. I wanted specific frequencies. Music, journaling, meditation, and art could satisfy what food once represented.

Then something even more profound happened.

How I Felt

I realized there is no time. Not in the way we believe. Time is a feeling linked to the idea that we have no choice. Once the body clears itself, time behaves differently. It stretches. It folds. It dissolves. A second can feel like minutes or vanish entirely.

I learned that reality becomes softer and more responsive. Flowers, air, and sunlight brought joy I had never known. I wanted to be near the ocean and feel the waves. I wanted to listen to birds and walk through nature. Everything felt alive in a new way.

I learned that this reality behaves like a simulation. We create our stories and then live inside them. That means we can rewrite the script and step into another version of life at any time. We are the creators of our own reality.

Science has value, but this experience went beyond what is considered possible. Studies say a human being cannot live for 22 days without liquid, yet I did. I became the living proof of what is considered impossible.

My sleep eventually reduced to about an hour each night. When you eat, your body needs sleep to process food and waste. When you do not eat, the body no longer requires that recovery time. I suddenly had more time to experience life.

After 22 days, I made a conscious choice.

I decided to stay grounded in this physical world.

I wanted to share meals with people and reconnect with the community.

I wanted to sleep in a way that aligned with the rhythm of others.

I slowly returned to juice. Then to soft foods. Then, to a way of eating that felt intentional instead of obligatory.

Even now, I still eat very little. I rarely feel hungry. When I choose to eat, it is because I want to experience the moment. A few bites can be a complete meal. Sometimes, a single piece of fruit. Sometimes, a small bowl of soup. I treat food as a conversation with life, not a mere requirement for survival. The simplicity feels natural to me. It allows my body to stay light, my mind to stay clear, and my spirit to guide what feels nourishing. Eating is no longer consumption. It is joy.

What I Learned

I came to understand something important. We do not eat because our bodies demand it. We eat because life, love, and connection often gather around food. I chose to return to these traditions because I wanted to live with people, not apart from them.