A New Language: Flowing in Being
By Avikal. Constantino
In his new book, A New Language: Flowing in Being, spiritual teacher Avikal E. Costantino explores how the words we use can either imprison us within old patterns or help us connect to a more authentic way of being.
Language is so deeply woven into daily life that we rarely stop to consider its influence. We use words to explain who we are, describe what we feel, communicate our needs and make sense of the world. Yet how much of this language genuinely belongs to us?
Many of the phrases we repeat were inherited long before we were old enough to question them. They came from parents, teachers, religious traditions, cultural expectations and the unspoken rules of the environments in which we grew up. Over time, these words and ideas became part of our identity. They taught us what was acceptable, what success should look like, how love ought to feel and which parts of ourselves needed to be hidden.
In A New Language: Flowing in Being, international spiritual teacher, mystic and author Avikal E. Costantino asks us to listen more carefully not only to what we say, but to the consciousness from which our words arise. His book is not concerned with learning a new vocabulary. It is an invitation to recognise the hidden grammar of conditioning and to discover a way of communicating rooted in presence, awareness and direct experience.
At the heart of A New Language lies one of the most fundamental questions a person can ask: Who am I?
For Avikal, this has never been a philosophical abstraction. It has shaped his personal journey and decades of work with people seeking greater authenticity and inner freedom. As a young man, he became acutely aware of the distance between what he felt inside and what he could express through words. Language often seemed inadequate, unable to carry the intimacy and immediacy of lived experience.
This struggle gradually revealed something important. The difficulty did not lie only in the limitations of words, but in the way language was filtered through expectation, self-protection and the desire for approval. Instead of expressing what was alive in the moment, words were frequently edited by an internal authority that decided what was safe, reasonable or acceptable to say.
Avikal calls this authority the Inner Judge.
Most people will recognise its voice. It is the voice that says we should be more successful, more spiritual, more attractive or more accomplished. It tells us that we must not disappoint others, that we ought to know the answer and that revealing uncertainty will make us appear weak. It compares us with other people, reminds us of previous failures and predicts what might go wrong.
Its presence can be heard in everyday expressions: “I should,” “I must,” “I can’t,” “I have always been this way” or “I will never change.” These may appear to be harmless turns of phrase, but Avikal suggests that they reveal the psychological structures beneath our words. When repeated unconsciously, they can reinforce a fixed idea of who we are and limit our ability to respond freshly to life.
The Inner Judge originally developed as part of our attempt to gain acceptance, love and protection. As children, we learned to adjust our behaviour to the expectations of those around us. The problem arises when this protective mechanism continues to govern adult life, long after the original circumstances have passed. We begin to censor ourselves before anyone else has the opportunity to reject us.
A New Language encourages readers to recognise this voice without turning it into another enemy. The purpose is not to attack the Inner Judge, but to understand it, loosen its authority and restore it to a more appropriate role. When its commentary no longer dominates our inner world, communication can become simpler, more immediate and more honest.
This honesty begins with the body.
Avikal describes a language that integrates the mind, heart and belly. The mind allows us to reason, interpret and give form to an experience. The heart brings feeling, sensitivity and connection. The belly, or hara, offers grounding, intuition and trust. When communication comes only from the mind, our words may be articulate but disconnected from what we genuinely feel. When these resources are activated and begin to work together, what we say carries more of our whole presence.
Consider an argument with someone we love. The mind may arrive armed with evidence, explanations and memories of previous disagreements. Beneath those thoughts, however, the heart may be experiencing sadness, fear, or a longing for closeness, while the body is signalling tension through a tight chest, a clenched jaw, or a knot in the stomach. If we communicate only from the prepared argument, the real experience remains hidden. If we pause, listen and speak from what is happening now, the conversation may take an entirely different direction.
Listening, therefore, is one of the foundations of this new language. It means listening to another person without immediately preparing a defence, but it also means listening inwardly. What is happening in the body? What emotion is present? Is the response coming from the current situation or from an old wound that has been activated?
The book supports this exploration with short meditations, breathing techniques, body-awareness exercises and personal inquiries. These practices are intended for ordinary life rather than an idealised spiritual existence removed from work, relationships and responsibility. A moment of tension, uncertainty or conflict becomes an opportunity to slow down, return to the body and notice the difference between direct experience and the mind’s interpretation of it.
One of the book’s most quietly radical foundations is the statement: “I know I don’t know.”
From childhood onwards, we are rewarded for producing answers. Not knowing may be associated with ignorance, inadequacy or failure. Consequently, many people feel compelled to form an opinion even when they lack direct experience. Knowledge becomes part of the identity we present and defend.
Avikal offers a different understanding. To acknowledge that we do not know can be an opening rather than a defeat. It releases us, however briefly, from the need to impose an old explanation upon a new moment. Certainty gives way to curiosity, and reality reveals something unexpected.
This principle becomes practical through what Avikal calls open inquiry. A reader might hold a deeply personal question such as: How can I love without fear? What prevents abundance in my life? What work genuinely expresses who I am? Instead of forcing an immediate answer, the question is held in the mind, heart and body.
Thoughts, memories, emotions, images and physical sensations may begin to surface. The task is not to seize the first convenient answer or reject what feels uncomfortable, but to remain open. Gradually, connections may appear, and a deeper understanding can emerge from direct experience rather than analysis alone.
This approach is particularly powerful when applied to the language of lack. Many people organise their lives around an unspoken conviction that something essential is missing. They may believe they lack love, value, beauty, strength, talent or recognition. The search for these qualities is then directed outward towards relationships, possessions, status and achievement.
Avikal does not suggest that external needs are unreal or that material circumstances should be ignored. Instead, he asks readers to investigate the source of desire. When we obtain something we have wanted, there is often a brief interval of peace, fullness or contentment before the mind searches for its next object. We usually attribute that feeling entirely to what we have acquired. Yet the book proposes that the pause in seeking may have allowed an inner quality to reveal itself.
Through this understanding, desire need not be condemned. It can become a path back to creativity, vitality and the deeper self. Abundance is no longer reduced to accumulation; it can be experienced through generosity, gratitude, connection and the freedom to express one’s uniqueness.
Although A New Language can be read independently, it also represents the culmination of Avikal’s wider body of work. His Flowing in Being guides readers through four interconnected stages: recognising and removing the mask of conditioning; gaining freedom from the Inner Judge; discovering the essential qualities of our true nature; and learning to embody that understanding in everyday life.
Earlier books including Who Is In?, Without a Mask, Freedom to Be Yourself explore different stages of this journey. A New Language brings these themes together and shows how inner transformation becomes visible through the way we live, relate and communicate.
The book will speak to anyone who has struggled to express what they truly feel, to recognise repeated patterns they cannot explain, or to sense a distance between their public identity and their private experience. It is also for readers who are tired of being told what they should become and are ready to explore what may already be present beneath the conditioning.
A new language does not require more impressive words. It asks for greater presence behind the words we already possess. As the Inner Judge grows quieter and the mind, heart, and body begin to communicate, language can become more than a description of life. It can become a living expression of Being.
A New Language: Flowing in Being by Avikal Constantino is available on Amazon, Kindle, as an audiobook, and wherever books are sold.
BOOK LINK: https://amzn.to/45OIFl4