Observe your breath — just observe.

See it moving in… acknowledge that it has come in.
See it moving out… know that it has gone out.
That’s all.
Don’t try to change it, don’t modify it, don’t control it.

Simply watch the rhythm as it is. And if you stay with it long enough, you’ll notice something beautiful: the breath slowly becomes more rhythmic on its own. More deep, more full.
Sometimes, it will expand — you’ll inhale deeply, exhale completely. Other times, it will shrink — become so subtle that it feels like you’re sipping air through stillness. That’s the point of focus.

And then, without effort, something begins to shift.
You start to see the mind — not from the mind, but apart from it. You see how thoughts form:
Something enters through a sense… Or sometimes the mind randomly throws an image or idea on the blank canvas of your closed eyes. And then a whole web of associations begins.

But now, you can track it all — where it began, how it grew, where it’s going. Just by watching. No interference.

Sometimes you lose focus — and even this is noticeable.
You’ll feel how the breath changes. The steady rhythm is disturbed.
Eyes, which were resting quietly, start to drift slightly.
Everything is noticeable — if you don’t interfere.

Now, in this space of awareness, try something interesting:
Bring in a thought — something sexual, something angry, or something that inflates your ego.

You’ll notice what happens immediately:
The breath races.
It becomes shallow.
Not wildly, but just enough that you can feel it’s no longer natural.
Your eyes begin to wander toward the sides.
The whole system is shaken.

The breath now behaves like a bellows — needing more air, more push — because these thoughts require fire. And to sustain that fire, the breath must force itself.

Watching all this gives you a method.
When you can see the genesis of thoughts — how they arise, how they twist the breath, how they ripple into the body — you gain the power to not let them solidify into reality.

You can resist not by force, but by returning to center.
Just one deep breath — not from the head, but from awareness — and the storm passes.

It may sound simple. And it is.
But I’m not telling you something memorized — I’m sharing something lived.

I would like to add a refrence from bhagvat gita that fits perfectly to what I have realised:

स्पर्शान्कृत्वा बहिर्बाह्यांश्चक्षुश्चैवान्तरे भ्रुवो: ।
प्राणापानौ समौ कृत्वा नासाभ्यन्तरचारिणौ ॥ २७ ॥
यतेन्द्रियमनोबुद्धिर्मुनिर्मोक्षपरायण: ।
विगतेच्छाभयक्रोधो य: सदा मुक्त एव स: ॥ २८ ॥

sparśān kṛtvā bahir bāhyāṁś
cakṣuś caivāntare bhruvoḥ
prāṇāpānau samau kṛtvā
nāsābhyantara-cāriṇau
yatendriya-mano-buddhir
munir mokṣa-parāyaṇaḥ
vigatecchā-bhaya-krodho
yaḥ sadā mukta eva saḥ

Shutting out all external sense objects, keeping the eyes and vision concentrated between the two eyebrows, suspending the inward and outward breaths within the nostrils, and thus controlling the mind, senses and intelligence, the transcendentalist aiming at liberation becomes free from desire, fear and anger. One who is always in this state is certainly liberated.
Bhagvat Gita 5.27-5.28