Before Labels, There Was Lalla

Before Labels, There Was Lalla

A contemplative offering on Lalleshwari

Long before the mind learned to divide the world into boxes—belief, caste, role, gender—there was a quieter knowing. Lalleshwari, lovingly addressed as Lal Ded and Lal Arifa, lived from that knowing. She did not remove labels as much as she preceded them. She stood at a point where the soul arrives before language, where identity has not yet hardened into armor.

To meet Lalla is to remember a time within ourselves when we were not yet named by others. A time when awareness moved freely, curious and unafraid, before it was told who to be. Her spirituality does not ask us to fight labels; it invites us to step behind them—into the original simplicity from which they arise.

Labels promise safety. They give the mind a place to rest. But Lalla knew their hidden cost: once named, life is filtered; once categorized, truth is negotiated. She chose a different fidelity—not to a category, but to immediacy. Her Vakhs sound like a mind that has not been trained to perform spirituality, only to recognize reality as it is.

What makes her incomparable is this refusal to arrive anywhere. Many seekers aim for a destination—enlightened, liberated, accomplished. Lalla aimed for honesty. She trusted the rawness of experience more than any conclusion about it. She allowed understanding to be provisional, always answerable to the next breath.

This is why her words feel startlingly fresh. They are not polished by tradition; they are alive with inquiry. She speaks as one who has not agreed to the terms of belonging that require certainty. She does not offer answers to be carried; she offers a stance to be inhabited.

In a culture that increasingly asks us to define ourselves quickly—by profession, ideology, tribe—Lalla’s life becomes a living question: What remains when definitions loosen? Her response is not abstract. It is practical and embodied. When labels fall away, attention sharpens. Listening deepens. Compassion becomes reflex, not virtue.

Lalla also teaches us that spirituality begins earlier than morality. Before right and wrong, there is presence. Before belief, there is awareness. When we live from that ground, ethics arise naturally—without coercion. Kindness becomes the shape of clarity, not a rule to be followed.

She did not erase difference. She refused reduction. She honored the uniqueness of expression while guarding the sameness of essence. In her presence, diversity was not something to manage; it was something to trust.

Today, many seek freedom by changing labels—switching identities, affiliations, ideologies. Lalla points to a subtler liberation: freedom from the compulsion to be labeled at all. Not through rebellion, but through ripeness. When awareness matures, it no longer needs a name to exist.

To approach Lalla with respect is to approach her gentleness. She does not demand that we abandon the world. She asks that we meet it freshly—without the haze of inherited conclusions. Her path is not dramatic; it is precise. It begins wherever you are, the moment you notice how quickly you say “I am this.”

Before labels, there was Lalla.
And before labels, there is still you—if you pause long enough to remember.

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Practical Daily Toolkit: Living Before Labels

1. Morning Reset (2 minutes)
On waking, sit quietly and notice sensations before thoughts. Let the day begin pre-definition.

2. The “I Am” Fast
For one hour daily, avoid describing yourself—even internally. Observe how spacious attention becomes.

3. Curiosity Over Conclusion
When forming an opinion, add one silent sentence: “What else might be true?”

4. Presence Check (Midday)
Pause and feel your breath without naming it calm or restless. Experience precedes commentary.

5. Evening Unnaming (5 minutes)

List the labels you wore today. Gently set them aside. Ask: What remains?