Friday, December 24, 2010
Life Experience
Unfortunately , If a human being neglects the regulative principles of civilized life that prohibit sex, meat-eating, intoxication and gambling, he will surely be overwhelmed by the waves of lust and anger, which completely covers one's consciousness of the reality of Spiritual life and draw one to engage in the phantasmagoria of the temporary material body.
Solution
There is no supernatural, says the yogi, but there are in nature gross manifestations and subtle manifestations. The subtle are the causes, the gross the effects. The gross can be easily perceived by the senses; not so the subtle. The practice of Raja Yoga will lead to the acquisition of the more subtle perceptions.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Vivekananda 100 Years Later
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Ramakrishna Paramahamsa
Friday, September 10, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Reality is an Illusion
The five senses make us feel that the world is real. Seeing the solidity of the objects around us, feeling the impact of the senses, it is hard to deny the validity of what we see. Everything looks real and we never stop to question this reality.
The mind is attached to the five senses and accepts everything as real without questioning. When we bump into a table or a wall and we feel pain, it is difficult to say that we are imagining it. When we see with our eyes, hear sounds, smell, or when we feel heat or coldness, we accept these sense impressions as real.
Some say that the world is an illusion, Maya in Eastern terminology. Can we accept this when everything looks so real? Can we regard the world as imagination?
We need the five senses and the mind to be conscious of the world, which means that the world is dependent on them. Without the senses and the mind the world does not exist for us.
If we say that a real thing is something that always exist with no gaps, then the outside world is not real. There are times besides sleep, when we are so busy that we are not conscious of what is going on around us. When there are no sensory sensations, as while being in a floating tank, or when in deep meditation, we are still conscious, but not of the world. This means that sometimes we are conscious of the world and sometimes we are not.
After we wake up from sleep, or get out of deep meditation and return to ordinary consciousness, we feel that there was a gap in our consciousness of the outside world. There was no world at that time. If we endeavor to pay attention to our consciousness we will come to the conclusion that the outside world comes and go, while the awareness of our inner consciousness never wavers.
The world exists for us only when the senses and mind are directed towards it, and cease to exist for us the moment we silence the senses and mind. During deep sleep we do not experience the world because the senses are not active. Can you prove the reality of the world while you are deeply asleep? When you wake up from sleep other people may tell you that the world existed, but can you prove that these people existed while you were asleep?
After waking up we may invent all kinds of theories to prove the realty of the world. Yet, these are only mental theories. During sleep it was non-existent for us. The world disappeared together with time.
During sleep dreams seem very real, but upon awakening we realize that they were just dreams. So it is with this world we call reality. It is possible to wake from it too. Sri Ramana Maharshi, the great Indian sage, has said that the difference between a dream while sleeping and the dream we call wakefulness is only of duration, one short and the other one long.
Further to the above, each person interprets and relates to other people's behavior, words and attitudes in a different way, according to the contents of his subconscious mind. No one's world is like another. Again, we see illusion at work. A world is created, based on our interpretation of what we see hear and sense.
Mind and thoughts create the world
Thoughts arise in the mind and we become aware of them. The same kind of thoughts tend to arise again and again. If we let this process continue, it goes on incessantly. These thoughts make us expect, behave, talk and act in a certain personalized way, and thus cause the people we come in contact with, to treat us and relate to us in a certain manner.
We usually continue with the same way of thinking, and live the same kind of life each day, whether we like it or not. These thoughts shape our circumstances and relationships. It is like watching the same movie over and over again. If we want to watch a different movie we have to change the reel or cassette. This happens by changing our thoughts. This is how creative visualization works, and there is nothing supernatural about this.
The world we experience and the life we live, are the reflections of our thoughts. The mind creates a world of illusion. By changing our thoughts, we change the illusion and experience a different reality. We do not create a world, only an illusion that looks real. No unusual power is involved here. We are living in Maya and are changing the Maya.
When we are able to still the mind and the senses, our consciousness seems to shift into a new dimension. Actually it is there all the time, only that the mind makes us think otherwise. When there are no thoughts in the mind, the world we know and believe is real, loses its reality. We become conscious of the world beyond the mind and illusions.
Waking up from illusion
We can wake up completely, understand and become conscious of the illusion of Maya, and live, as we really are, as a pure, formless, beginning-less and endless consciousness. Due to illusion it seems as if we are all separated, having individual selves and each living a different life. Even when we wake up from Maya, its play may go on. We continue to see and experience it, yet it is of no concern to us anymore. Outwardly we may continue to live our life in the same manner, but we are really awake.
It is like a movie show. A person watching a movie gets so involved with the characters and with what happens on the screen. He may become happy or sad with the heroes, gets depressed, shouts or laughs.
If at a particular moment he decides to stop watching the screen and manages to withdraw his attention from the movie, he gets snapped out of the illusion the movie creates. The projecting machine will go on projecting images on the screen, but he knows that it is only light projected through the film onto the screen. What is seen on the screen is not real, but yet it is there. He may watch the movie, or he may decide to close his eyes and ears and stop looking at the screen.
Have you ever watched a movie, when at some point the reel got stuck or there was a power failure? What happens to you when you watch an interesting, absorbing film on the television and then suddenly there are commercials? You are snapped out of the illusion to the world around you. When you are sleeping and dreaming, and someone wakes you up, you feel thrown out of one world to a different one. It is the same in the life we call reality. It is possible to wake up from it.
One who has managed to still his mind and senses through proper training, may go on living and acting in the world like the person in the cinema hall, who is no longer interested in the movie. He learns how to get out of the illusion and wake up. If he is no more a slave to illusion and dreams, he is free. He sees everything as it really is. Contrary to what you might think, such a person functions in his daily life in a better way, is stronger, happier, very practical and free from worry.
In the East, metaphors are used in order to demonstrate what illusion is in relation to Reality. A jewel made of gold may be called an earring or a necklace, but actually it is only gold. Before it became a jewel and after it is melted it is only gold. Clay is shaped into vessels such as plates, cups, or vases, but they are only clay.
Due to convenience of speech we call these objects made of gold or clay by many names, but they are really only clay or gold. Everything in existence is "made" from the Original Substance, and is not a "real" thing standing by itself, exactly as in the above examples. Nothing has a reality of its own.
A mirage is not real, but yet we see it. A dream taking place while sleeping is not real, yet we experience it during the time of the dream as a reality. A hologram looks 3D, while it is actually flat.
In the East, one of the metaphors of explaining reality and illusion is that of the rope and the snake. In the dark we may see a rope and mistake it for a snake. When there is enough light we realize that it was only a rope, and the snake disappears. It is only due to some kind of illusion that we see a world. Everything is in the mind.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Venkatachala Nilayam
raagam: sindu bhairavi
10 naaTakapriya janya
Aa: S R2 G2 M1 G2 P D1 N2 S
Av: N2 D1 P M1 G2 R1 S N2 S
taaLam: aadi
Composer: Purandara Daasar
Language: Sanskrit
pallavi
venkaTAcala nilayam vaikuNThapura vAsam
pankaja nEtram parama pavitram
shanka cakradhara cinmaya rUpam
(venkaTAcala)
anupallavi
ambujOdbhava vinutam agaNita guNa nAmam
tumbur nArada gAnavilOlam
(venkaTAcala)
caraNam
makara kuNDaladhara madanagOpAlam
bhakta pOSaka shrI purandaravithalam
(venkaTAcala)
Monday, May 31, 2010
Each is Great in his Own Place
A certain king used to inquire of all the Sannyasins that came to his country, "Which is the greater man—he who gives up the world and becomes a Sannyasin, or he who lives in the world and performs his duties as a householder?" Many wise men sought to solve the problem. Some asserted that the Sannyasin was the greater, upon which the king demanded that they should prove their assertion. When they could not, he ordered them to marry and become householders. Then others came and said, "The householder who performs his duties is the greater man." Of them, too, the king demanded proofs. When they could not give them, he made them also settle down as householders.
At last there came a young Sannyasin, and the king similarly inquired of him also. He answered, "Each, O king, is equally great in his place." "Prove this to me," asked the king. "I will prove it to you," said the Sannyasin, "but you must first come and live as I do for a few days, that I may be able to prove to you what I say." The king consented and followed the Sannyasin out of his own territory and passed through many other countries until they came to a great kingdom. In the capital of that kingdom a great ceremony was going on. The king and the Sannyasin heard the noise of drums and music, and heard also the criers; the people were assembled in the streets in gala dress, and a great proclamation was being made. The king and the Sannyasin stood there to see what was going on. The crier was proclaiming loudly that the princess, daughter of the king of that country, was about to choose a husband from among those assembled before her.
It was an old custom in India for princesses to choose husbands in this way, each princess had certain ideas of the sort of man she wanted for a husband; some would have the handsomest man; others would have only the most learned; others again the richest, and so on. All the princes of the neighborhood put on their bravest attire and presented themselves before her. Sometimes they too had their own criers to enumerate their advantages and the reasons why they hoped the princess would choose them. The princess was taken round on a throne, in the most splendid array and looked at and heard about them. If she was not pleased with what she saw and heard, she said to her bearers, "Move on," and no more notice was taken of the rejected suitors. If, however, the princess was pleased with any one of them she threw a garland of flowers over him and he became her husband.
The princess of the country to which our king and the Sannyasin had come was having one of these interesting ceremonies. She was the most beautiful princess in the world, and the husband of the princess would be ruler of the kingdom after her father's death. The idea of this princess was to marry the handsomest man, but she could not find the right one to please her. Several times these meetings had taken place, but the princess could not select a husband. This meeting was the most splendid of all; more people than ever had come to it. The princess came in on a throne, and the bearers carried her from place to place. She did not seem to care for any one, and every one became disappointed that this meeting also was going to be a failure. Just then came a young man, a Sannyasin, handsome as if the sun had come down to the earth, and stood in one corner of the assembly, watching what was going on. The throne with the princess came near him, and as soon as she saw the beautiful Sannyasin, she stopped and threw the garland over him. The young Sannyasin seized the garland and threw it off, exclaiming, "What nonsense is this? I am a Sannyasin. What is marriage to me?" The king of that country thought that perhaps this man was poor and so dared not marry the princess, and said to him, "With my daughter goes half my kingdom now, and the whole kingdom after my death!" and put the garland again on the Sannyasin. The young man threw it off once more, saying, "Nonsense. I do not want to marry," and walked quickly away from the assembly.
Now the princess had fallen so much in love with this young man that she said, "I must marry this man or I shall die;" and she went after him to bring him back. Then our other Sannyasin, who had brought the king there, said to him, "King, let us follow this pair;" so they walked after them, but at a good distance behind. The young Sannyasin who had refused to marry the princess walked out into the country for several miles; when he came to a forest and entered into it, the princess followed him, and the other two followed them. Now this young Sannyasin was well acquainted with that forest and knew all the intricate paths in it, he suddenly passed into one of these and disappeared, and the princess could not discover him. After trying for a long time to find' him she sat down under a tree and began to weep, for she did not know the way out. Then our king and the other Sannyasin came up to her and said, "Do not weep; we will show you the way out of this forest, but it is too dark for us to find it now. Here is a big tree; let us rest under it, and in the morning we will go early and show you the road."
Now a little bird and his wife and their three little ones lived on that tree, in a nest. This little bird looked down and saw the three people under the tree and said to his wife, "My dear, what shall we do; here are some guests in the house, and it is winter, and we have no fire?" So he flew away and got a bit of burning firewood in his beak and dropped it before the guests, to which they added fuel and made a blazing fire. But the little bird was not satisfied. He said again to his wife, "My dear, what shall we do? There is nothing to give these people to eat, and they are hungry. We are householders; it is our duty to feed anyone who comes to the house. I must do what I can, I will give them my body." So he plunged into the midst of the fire and perished. The guests saw him falling and tried to save him, but he was too quick for them.
The little bird's wife saw what her husband did, and she said, "Here are three persons and only one little bird for them to eat. It is not enough; it is my duty as a wife not to let my husband's effort go in vain; let them have my body also;" then she fell into the fire and was burned to death.
Then the three baby-birds, when they saw what was done and that there was still not enough food for the three guests, said, "Our parents have done what they could and still it is not enough. It is our duty to carry on the work of our parents; let our bodies go too." And they all dashed down into the fire also.
Amazed at what they saw, the three people could not of course eat these birds. They passed the night without food and in the morning the king and the Sanyaasin showed the princess the way, and she went back to her father.
Then the Sannyasin said to the king, "King, you have seen that each is great in his own place. If you want to live in the world live like those birds, ready at any moment to sacrifice yourself for others. If you want to renounce the world be like that young man to whom the most beautiful woman and a kingdom were as nothing. If you want to be a householder hold your life a sacrifice for the welfare of others; and if you choose the life of renunciation do not even look at beauty, and money and power. Each is great in his own place, but the duty of the one is not the duty of the other."
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Mokshamu Galada
taaLam: aadi
Composer: Tyaagaraaja
raagam: saaramati
Language: Telugu
pallavi
mOkSamu galadA bhuvilO jIvanmuktulu gAni vAralaku
anupallavi
sAkSAtkAra nI sadbhakti sangIta jnAna vihInulaku
caraNam
prANanAla sam-yOgamu valla praNava nAdamu sapta svaramulai bAraga
vINA vAdana lOluDau shivamanO vidha merugaru tyAgarAja vinuta
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Shanti Mantra
Shiva Manasa
Shiva Manasa Pooja
Rathnai Kalpitham aasanam, Himajalai snaanam cha divyaambaram,
Naana rathna vibhooshitham mruga madha modhankitham Chandanam,
Jaathi champaka bilwa pathra rachitham, pushpam cha dhupam Thada,
Deepam deva dayanithe pasupathe, hrud kalpitham gruhyathaam.
Souvarne nava rathna Ganda Rachithe, paathre Grutham Paayasam,
Bakshyam pancha vidam Payo dadhiyutham, rambhaa phalam paanakam,
Shaaka naamayutham jalam ruchikaram, karpoora gandojwalam,
Thaamboolam manasaa maya virachitham Bhakthya prabho sweekuru.
Chathram Chaamarayoryugam vyajanagam, chaa darshakam nirmalam,
Veena bheri mrudanga kaahala kala geetham cha nruthyam thada,
Sasthangam praNathi sthuthir bahu vidha, hyethat samastham maya,
Sankalpena samarpitham thava vibho , poojaam gruhaaNa prabho.
Aathma thwam Girija Mathi sahacharaa, praana shareeram gruham,
Pooja theey vishayopa bhoga rachana, nidhra samadhi sthithi:,
Sanchara padayo pradakshina vidhi, , sthothraani sarva giraa,
Yadyath karma karomi thathad akhilam, shambho thavaaraadhanam.
Kara charana krutham vaak kaayajam karmajam vaa,
Shravana nayanajam vaa maanasam vaa aparadham,
Vihithamavihitham vaa sarva methath Kshamaswa,
Jaya Jaya karunabdhe sri Mahadeva Shambho.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Samadhi
We
have taken a cursory view of the different steps in Raja-Yoga, except the
finer ones, the training in concentration, which is the goal, to which
Raja-Yoga will lead us. We see, as human beings, that all our knowledge which
is called rational is referred to consciousness. My consciousness of this
table, and of your presence, makes me know that the table and you are here.
At the same time, there is a very great part of my existence of which I am
not conscious. All the different organs inside the body, the different parts
of the brain--nobody is conscious of these.
When
I eat food, I do it consciously; when I assimilate it, I do it unconsciously.
When the food is manufactured into blood, it is done unconsciously. When out
of the blood all the different parts of my body are strengthened, it is done
unconsciously. And yet it is I who am doing all this; there cannot be twenty
people in this one body. How do I know that I do it, and nobody else? It may
be urged that my business is only in eating and assimilating the food, and
that strengthening the body by the food is done for me by somebody else. That
cannot be, because it can be demonstrated that almost every action of which
we are now unconscious can be brought up to the plane of consciousness. The
heart is beating apparently without our control. None of us here can control
the heart; it goes on its own way. But by practice men can bring even the
heart under control, until it will just beat at will, slowly, or quickly, or
almost stop. Nearly every part of the body can be brought under control. What
does this show? That the functions which are beneath consciousness are also
performed by us, only we are doing it unconsciously. We have, then, two
planes in which the human mind works. First is the conscious plane, in which
all work is always accompanied with the feeling of egoism. Next comes the unconscious
plane, where all work is unaccompanied by the feeling of egoism. That part of
mind-work which is unaccompanied with the feeling of egoism is unconscious
work, and that part which is accompanied with the feeling of egoism is
conscious work. In the lower animals this unconscious work is called
instinct. In higher animals, and in the highest of all animals, man, what is
called conscious work prevails.
But
it does not end here. There is a still higher plane upon which the mind can
work. It can go beyond consciousness. Just as unconscious work is beneath
consciousness, so there is another work which is above consciousness, and
which also is not accompanied with the feeling of egoism. The feeling of
egoism is only on the middle plane. When the mind is above or below that
line, there is no feeling of "I", and yet the mind works. When the
mind goes beyond this line of self-consciousness, it is called Samadhi or
superconsciousness. How, for instance, do we know that a man in Samadhi has
not gone below consciousness, has not degenerated instead of going higher? In
both cases the works are unaccompanied with egoism. The answer is, by the
effects, by the results of the work, we know that which is below, and that
which is above. When a man goes into deep sleep, he enters a plane beneath
consciousness. He works the body all the time, he breathes, he moves the
body, perhaps, in his sleep, without any accompanying feeling of ego; he is
unconscious, and when he returns from his sleep, he is the same man who went
into it. The sum total of the knowledge which he had before he went into the
sleep remains the same; it does not increase at all. No enlightenment comes.
But when a man goes into Samadhi, if he goes into it a fool, he comes out a
sage.
What
makes the difference? From one state a man comes out the very same man that
he went in, and from another state the man comes out enlightened, a sage, a
prophet, a saint, his whole character changed, his life changed, illumined.
These are the two effects. Now the effects being different, the causes must
be different. As this illumination with which a man comes back from Samadhi
is much higher than can be got from unconsciousness, or much higher than can
be got by reasoning in a conscious state, it must, therefore, be superconsciousness,
and Samadhi is called the superconscious state.
This,
in short, is the idea of Samadhi. What is its application? The application is
here. The field of reason, or of the conscious workings of the mind, is
narrow and limited. There is a little circle within which human reason must
move. It cannot go beyond. Every attempt to go beyond is impossible, yet it
is beyond this circle of reason that there lies all that humanity holds most
dear. All these questions, whether there is an immortal soul, whether there
is a God, whether there is any supreme intelligence guiding this universe or
not, are beyond the field of reason. Reason can never answer these questions.
What does reason say? It says, "I am agnostic; I do not know either yea
or nay." Yet these questions are so important to us. Without a proper
answer to them, human life will be purposeless. All our ethical theories, all
our moral attitudes, all that is good and great in human nature, have been
moulded upon answers that have come from beyond the circle. It is very
important, therefore, that we should have answers to these questions. If life
is only a short play, if the universe is only a "fortuitous combination
of atoms," then why should I do good to another? Why should there be
mercy, justice, or fellow-feeling? The best thing for this world would be to
make hay while the sun shines, each man for himself. If there is no hope, why
should I love my brother, and not cut his throat? If there is nothing beyond,
if there is no freedom, but only rigorous dead laws, I should only try to
make myself happy here. You will find people saying nowadays that they have
utilitarian grounds as the basis of morality. What is this basis? Procuring
the greatest amount of happiness to the greatest number. Why should I do this?
Why should I not produce the greatest unhappiness to the greatest number, if
that serves my purpose? How will utilitarians answer this question? How do
you know what is right, or what is wrong? I am impelled by my desire for
happiness, and I fulfil it, and it is in my nature; I know nothing beyond. I
have these desires, and must fulfil them; why should you complain? Whence
come all these truths about human life, about morality, about the immortal
soul, about God, about love and sympathy, about being good, and, above all,
about being unselfish?
All
ethics, all human action and all human thought, hang upon this one idea of
unselfishness. The whole idea of human life can be put into that one word,
unselfishness. Why should we be unselfish? Where is the necessity, the force,
the power, of my being unselfish? You call yourself a rational man, a
utilitarian; but if you do not show me a reason for utility, I say you are
irrational. Show me the reason why I should not be selfish. To ask one to be
unselfish may be good as poetry, but poetry is not reason. Show me a reason.
Why shall I be unselfish, and why be good? Because Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so say
so does not weigh with me. Where is the utility of my being unselfish? My
utility is to be selfish if utility means the greatest amount of happiness.
What is the answer? The utilitarian can never give it. The answer is that
this world is only one drop in an infinite ocean, one link in an infinite
chain. Where did those that preached unselfishness, and taught it to the human
race, get this idea? We know it is not instinctive; the animals, which have
instinct, do not know it. Neither is it reason; reason does not know anything
about these ideas. Whence then did they come?
We
find, in studying history, one fact held in common by all the great teachers
of religion the world ever had. They all claim to have got their truths from
beyond, only many of them did not know where they got them from. For
instance, one would say that an angel came down in the form of a human being,
with wings, and said to him, "Hear, O man, this is the message."
Another says that a Deva, a bright being, appeared to him. A third says he
dreamed that his ancestor came and told him certain things. He did not know
anything beyond that. But this is common that all claim that this knowledge
has come to them from beyond, not through their reasoning power. What does
the science of Yoga teach? It teaches that they were right in claiming that
all this knowledge came to them from beyond reasoning, but that it came from
within themselves.
The
Yogi teaches that the mind itself has a higher state of existence, beyond
reason, a superconscious state, and when the mind gets to that higher state,
then this knowledge, beyond reasoning, comes to man. Metaphysical and transcendental
knowledge comes to that man. This state of going beyond reason, transcending
ordinary human nature, may sometimes come by chance to a man who does not
understand its science; he, as it were, stumbles upon it. When he stumbles
upon it, he generally interprets it as coming from outside. So this explains
why an inspiration, or transcendental knowledge, may be the same in different
countries, but in one country it will seem to come through an angel, and in
another through a Deva, and in a third through God. What does it mean? It
means that the mind brought the knowledge by its own nature, and that the
finding of the knowledge was interpreted according to the belief and
education of the person through whom it came. The real fact is that these
various men, as it were, stumbled upon this superconscious state.
The
Yogi says there is a great danger in stumbling upon this state. In a good
many cases there is the danger of the brain being deranged, and, as a rule,
you will find that all those men, however great they were, who had stumbled
upon this superconscious state without understanding it, groped in the dark,
and generally had, along with their knowledge, some quaint superstition. They
opened themselves to hallucinations. Mohammed claimed that the Angel Gabriel
came to him in a cave one day and took him on the heavenly horse, Harak, and
he visited the heavens. But with all that, Mohammed spoke some wonderful
truths. If you read the Koran, you find the most wonderful truths mixed with
superstitions. How will you explain it? That man was inspired, no doubt, but
that inspiration was, as it were, stumbled upon. He was not a trained Yogi,
and did not know the reason of what he was doing. Think of the good Mohammed
did to the world, and think of the great evil that has been done through his
fanaticism! Think of the millions massacred through his teachings, mothers
bereft of their children, children made orphans, whole countries destroyed,
millions upon millions of people killed!
So
we see this danger by studying the lives of great teachers like Mohammed and
others. Yet we find, at the same time, that they were all inspired. Whenever
a prophet got into the superconscious state by heightening his emotional
nature, he brought away from it not only some truths, but some fanaticism
also, some superstition which injured the world as much as the greatness of
the teaching helped. To get any reason out of the mass incongruity we call
human life, we have to transcend our reason, but we must do it
scientifically, slowly, by regular practice, and we must cast off all
superstition. We must take up the study of the superconscious state just as
any other science. On reason we must have to lay our foundation, we must
follow reason as far as it leads, and when reason fails, reason itself will
show us the way to the highest plane. When you hear a man say, "I am
inspired," and then talk irrationally, reject it. Why? Because these
three states--instinct, reason, and superconsciousness, or the unconscious,
conscious, and superconscious states--belong to one and the same mind. There
are not three minds in one man, but one state of it develops into the others.
Instinct develops into reason, and reason into the transcendental
consciousness; therefore, not one of the states contradicts the others. Real
inspiration never contradicts reason, but fulfills it. Just as you find the
great prophets saying, "I come not to destroy but to fulfil," so
inspiration always comes to fulfil reason, and is in harmony with it.
All
the different steps in Yoga are intended to bring us scientifically to the
superconscious state, or Samadhi. Furthermore, this is a most vital point to
understand, that inspiration is as much in every man's nature as it was in
that of the ancient prophets. These prophets were not unique; they were men
as you or I. They were great Yogis. They had gained this superconsciousness,
and you and I can get the same. They were not peculiar people. The very fact
that one man ever reached that state, proves that it is possible for every
man to do so. Not only is it possible, but every man must, eventually, get to
that state, and that is religion. Experience is the only teacher we have. We
may talk and reason all our lives, but we shall not understand a word of
truth, until we experience it ourselves. You cannot hope to make a man a
surgeon by simply giving him a few books. You cannot satisfy my curiosity to
see a country by showing me a map; I must have actual experience. Maps can
only create curiosity in us to get more perfect knowledge. Beyond that, they
have no value whatever. Clinging to books only degenerates the human mind.
Was there ever a more horrible blasphemy than the statement that all the
knowledge of God is confined to this or that book? How dare men call God
infinite, and yet try to compress Him within the covers of a little book!
Millions of people have been killed because they did not believe what the
books said, because they would not see all the knowledge of God within the
covers of a book. Of course this killing and murdering has gone by, but the
world is still tremendously bound up in a belief in books.
In
order to reach the superconscious state in a scientific manner it is
necessary to pass through the various steps of Raja-Yoga I have been
teaching. After Pratyahara and Dharana, we come to Dhyana, meditation. When
the mind has been trained to remain fixed on a certain internal or external
location, there comes to it the power of flowing in an unbroken current, as
it were, towards that point. This state is called Dhyana. When one has so
intensified the power of Dhyana as to be able to reject the external part of
perception and remain meditating only on the internal part, the meaning, that
state is called Samadhi. The three--Dharana, Dhyana, and Samadhi--together,
are called Samyama. That is, if the mind can first concentrate upon an
object, and then is able to continue in that concentration for a length of
time, and then, by continued concentration, to dwell only on the internal
part of the perception of which the object was the effect, everything comes
under the control of such a mind.
This
meditative state is the highest state of existence. So long as there is
desire, no real happiness can come. It is only the contemplative,
witness-like study of objects that brings to us real enjoyment and happiness.
The animal has its happiness in the senses, the man in his intellect, and the
god in spiritual contemplation. It is only to the soul that has attained to
this contemplative state that the world really becomes beautiful. To him who
desires nothing, and does not mix himself up with them, the manifold changes
of nature are one panorama of beauty and sublimity.
These
ideas have to be understood in Dhyana, or meditation. We hear a sound. First,
there is the external vibration; second, the nerve motion that carries it to
the mind; third, the reaction from the mind, along with which flashes the
knowledge of the object which was the external cause of these different
changes from the ethereal vibrations to the mental reactions. These three are
called in Yoga, Shabda (sound), Artha (meaning), and Jnana (knowledge). In
the language of physics and physiology they are called the ethereal
vibration, the motion in the nerve and brain, and the mental reaction. Now
these, though distinct processes, have become mixed up in such a fashion as
to become quite indistinct. In fact, we cannot now perceive any of these, we
only perceive their combined effect, what we call the external object. Every
act of perception includes these three, and there is no reason why we should
not be able to distinguish them.
When,
by the previous preparations, it becomes strong and controlled, and has the
power of finer perception, the mind should be employed in meditation. This
meditation must begin with gross objects and slowly rise to finer and finer,
until it becomes objectless. The mind should first be employed in perceiving
the external causes of sensations, then the internal motions, and then its
own reaction. When it has succeeded in perceiving the external causes of sensations
by themselves, the mind will acquire the power of perceiving all fine
material existences, all fine bodies and forms. When it can succeed in
perceiving the motions inside by themselves, it will gain the control of all
mental waves, in itself or in others, even before they have translated
themselves into physical energy; and when he will be able to perceive the
mental reaction by itself, the Yogi will acquire the knowledge of everything,
as every sensible object, and every thought is the result of this reaction.
Then will he have seen the very foundations of his mind, and it will be under
his perfect control. Different powers will come to the Yogi, and if he yields
to the temptations of any one of these, the road to his further progress will
be barred. Such is the evil of running after enjoyments. But if he is strong
enough to reject even these miraculous powers, he will attain to the goal of
Yoga, the complete suppression of the waves in the ocean of the mind. Then
the glory of the soul, undisturbed by the distractions of the mind, or
motions of the body, will shine in its full effulgence; and the Yogi will
find himself as he is and as he always was, the essence of knowledge, the
immortal, the all-pervading.
Samadhi
is the property of every human being--nay, every animal. From the lowest
animal to the highest angel, some time or other, each one will have to come
to that state, and then, and then alone, will real religion begin for him.
Until then we only struggle towards that stage. There is no difference now
between us and those who have no religion, because we have no experience.
What is concentration good for, save to bring us to this experience? Each one
of the steps to attain Samadhi has been reasoned out, properly adjusted,
scientifically organised, and, when faithfully practised, will surely lead us
to the desired end. Then will all sorrows cease, all miseries vanish; the
seeds for actions will be burnt, and the soul will be free forever.
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