Imagine devotion as the spark plug that sets the whole engine of God-realization roaring to life. In Ramakrishna’s universe, bhakti isn’t an optional extra—it’s the very lifeblood flowing through every teaching and experience. Putting the heart on one’s sleeve, he’d chant, dance, even weep before Kali or Krishna, showing that raw, unfiltered love for the Divine melts ego faster than ice under the noon sun.

His approach feels surprisingly modern: much like today’s mindfulness apps encouraging daily gratitude, Ramakrishna urged daily, heartfelt worship—whether through song, prayer, or even simple remembrance of God’s name. That single-pointed focus trims away distractions, ushering in moments of ecstasy where the seeker “forgets” the self completely. Stories from The Gospel fit together like Instagram stories of divine rapture: dervishes of joy spinning in ecstasy, visions of the Mother, and tremors of bliss that make ordinary life seem pale.

Devotion, for him, was also a democratic highway—open to householder and hermit alike. A busy shopkeeper in Kolkata could reach the same heights as a renunciate in the Himalayas, so long as the heart’s devotion was unwavering. In a world buzzing with hustle culture and the latest TikTok trend, Ramakrishna’s message remains refreshingly simple: deep, sincere bhakti cuts through the noise.

By pouring all one’s love into worship—seeing God in a flower, a song, or even a beggar—the seeker becomes a living temple. And that, according to his timeless guidance, is where God reveals the secret: not as a distant monarch, but as an ever-present friend.