SELF-KNOWLEDGE

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Adhyatma Yoga and Advaita Vedanta

The highest wisdom experienced by the Seers of Truth has been passed down from ancient times to the present day through a line of traditional teachers. Its metaphysical side, Advaita Vedanta, establishes by reasoning a non-dualistic explanation of the universe; its practical side, Adhyatma Yoga, gives guidance on the life of thought and action, so that the purpose of life may be fulfilled. The essential teachings are:

The universe is a phenomenal expression of the supreme Reality, which is by nature Existence-Consciousness-Bliss Absolute.

Our innermost Self transcends the limitations of body, mind and ego, and is not other than the supreme Reality.

The purpose of life is conscious realisation of this identity, and this can be achieved while engaged in the duties of life.

Self-realisation gives unbroken peace, poise and bliss. It is the ultimate goal sought consciously or unconsciously through philosophy and religion, art and science.

The one Reality reveals and pervades all beings, and underlies the highest teachings found in the world’s religious traditions.

Shanti Sadan is a Centre of Adhyatma Yoga, founded in 1933 by the late Hari Prasad Shastri, where the teachings continue to be given and practised in the traditional way.

Information about meetings and events can be found at shantisadan.org/meetings

SELF-KNOWLEDGE

Autumn 2025

Vol. 76 No. 4

Contents

How to Be Popular

The Shvetashvatara Upanishad

Atman – the Self

Aids to Enlightenment

Liberation and Action

Listen Carefully

Seeing Ourselves in a New Light

The Goal of Transcendence

Bhakti Yoga – the Way of Devotion

How to Be Popular

Popularity is generally thought of as one of life’s desirable comforts, and if it is achieved, its subsequent loss tends to weigh heavily on our hearts, and often gives rise to an exaggerated sense of failure. To be popular is often the outcome of success in our enterprises, although we sometimes forget that no human being can retain the love of the people for long, and that prize-winners and champions are bound to be outperformed in the course of time; their names, if not forgotten, will be hard to recall.

But there is another form of popularity that has nothing to do with personal eminence or with being viewed as an exceptional and uniquely gifted individual. It concerns not the way we rank with other people, but how they rank with us. In fact, the way of wisdom has nothing to do with our graded evaluation or snap judgment of the worth of particular individuals. It is based on our recognition of the deepest aspect of human nature, and our understanding that there is one Self in all.

This idea of universal equality at the deepest level is expressed in a striking way in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad. There is a terse warning (in part two, section four, paragraph six) for those who insist on their fundamental and real difference from others. The statements affirm that this narrow and divisive way of looking on one’s fellow humans—or any living beings—as ‘different from the Self’, will never win the love of the people, who will recognise that they are rejected by us, and who, in turn, will reject us when the opportunity presents itself:

The Brahmin rejects one who knows him as different from the Self; the warrior rejects one who knows him as different from the Self; the worlds reject one who knows them as different from the Self; the gods reject one who knows them as different from the Self; the beings reject one who knows him as different from the Self; all reject one who knows it as different from the Self; for all this is in truth the Self alone.

The teaching warns against hypocrisy. If our affection and regard are feigned, the people won’t really be deceived or misled. They will know that really, we are regarding them as inferiors, and they in turn will reject or ‘oust’ us (as one translator puts it) because of this alienation.

The answer is for us to learn how to appreciate the essential excellence of all, by virtue of the immutable reality or ‘light’ that ever abides in the core of our being. Besides, it is futile to judge others based on appearances, casual encounters, or hearsay. We experience, often wrongly, only an infinitesimal part of what they are. All possess good qualities, which will manifest and surprise us, if we approach or receive them with patience, empathy and interest, based on the recognition of one essential Self in all.

As the poet Ibrahim Zauq has written:

In this world of forms, O Zauq,

there are a million appearances.

All are the creations of the Supreme Artist

and none is mediocre.

The Shvetashvatara Upanishad

The Shvetashvatara Upanishad combines the deepest devotion with the highest knowledge. Human beings are both intellectual and emotional, and both these aspects of our nature need to be trained and transformed. Emotion and intellect, heart and mind, can be united creatively in the same inner quest. When this happens, a great power is awakened within the personality.

Let us consider how this is to be achieved. Provisionally, we may say that the intellect is concerned with how things are, and the emotions with how things affect us. The emotions are most affected by what is visible and tangible, while the intellect understands abstractions and that Reality is different from appearances. Therefore, it is sometimes taught that the way of devotion must be a preliminary stage of refining the emotions and reactions, leading on to the way of knowledge through the intellect of what transcends appearances.

It should be remembered that the intellect is limited to the realm of time-space-causation, and the emotions can rise to unselfish love, so the idea that one is higher than the other, or that they are incompatible, is misleading if taken too far.

Intellect is concerned with knowledge of what exists, and the highest knowledge is to realise that all things are phenomena appearing in absolute Being-Consciousness, Brahman, which is none other than our ultimate Self, Atman. The emotions are concerned with devotion to what affects us most, and the highest devotion is to realise that the absolute Being-Consciousness in which all phenomena appear is none other than our ultimate Self. The way of knowledge means overcoming all that seems to separate us from the Reality in all, and the way of devotion has the same goal. This is the subject of the Shvetashvatara Upanishad.

The Shvetashvatara is believed to have appeared several centuries after the oldest Upanishads, possibly about 200 BCE. No name is mentioned until the end, when we are told that such were the teachings given by the sage, Shvetashvatara. Even this is an epithet rather than a name. It means White Mule, suggesting that the teacher was a sage who rode a white mule, which may symbolise a pure mind. Thus we are encouraged to forget what is superficial, like the name of the teacher, and focus on the essence of what is being taught.

Being a later text, the Shvetashvatara Upanishad draws on vocabulary and ideas from various previously established schools of thought, perhaps in an effort to highlight and synthesise what is best in them all. This contributes to the richness of this Upanishad and has also led to its being interpreted in various ways, which might seem confusing at first. There is a commentary on it attributed to Shri Shankara. Although this commentary may in fact have been written by a follower, Shankara himself certainly quotes the Shvetashvatara, treating it as an authoritative expression of the non-dual teachings. Here we will consider it in the light of, and as a pointer towards, the pure truth of non-duality.

It consists of six short chapters. The first begins with questions:

Those who speak of Brahman ask: What is Brahman, the source? From what are we born? By what do we live? Where do we abide? O knowers of Brahman, what rules our lives, happy or otherwise? (1:1)

This shows that devotion is only one aspect of the Upanishad; these are philosophical questions based on reason about the ultimate origin and controller of the world. Non-duality is a path of enquiry, which begins when such questions begin to press upon us. Verse two considers some provisional answers:

Is it time, nature, necessity, matter, life? These cannot be the source because they depend on the one for whom they have been combined. And the individual self cannot be the source because of joy and suffering. (1:2)

Neither time nor nature nor any of these principles could be the ultimate source of all, because none of them exists independently. And nothing would be the source of its own suffering. The enquiry must go deeper:

By practising the way of meditation, the sages discovered the supreme Being’s own power hidden within the effects. That One alone controls time and the rest. (1.3)

The sages realised that the logical and empirical methods, which are effective in investigating the material world, cannot be applied to the ultimate source of phenomena. So they turned to meditation, which involves withdrawing awareness from objects and focusing on the nature of awareness itself. There, they made the great discovery: they realised that the apparent source of all is their own ultimate Self.

This principle is central to our philosophy and practice. The mind is a facet of the phenomenal world and cannot go beyond itself to the Absolute. The phenomenal world is both a pointer to the power that lies behind it, and also a screen that seems to hide that power. The Upanishads offer guidance through this dual aspect of our perceptions and conceptions of reality to Reality itself.

The Upanishad describes what inner explorers might encounter on the way:

They saw a vision of the All as a great wheel, with one circumference, a triple-layered rim, numerous spokes, joins and fasteners, drawn by a rope of many strands along three paths, and illusion arising from two sources. (1:4)

Much is packed into this expression, which can be explicated in various ways. In essence, it presents a unified vision of the world as a great wheel, comprised of inertia, energy and order (the ‘triple rim’), and the elements of nature as understood at the time. The wheel is pulled in three directions—to vice, virtue and knowledge—by the rope of love-desires. The result is two-fold: good and bad actions. The effect of both is one illusion—the experience of mortal individuality.

The image suggests that our lives are driven by events and circumstances beyond our control. It makes clear that our own psychological forces—our emotions, our wishes, and so on—play their part in driving the motion of this wheel. Our understanding, while revolving on this wheel, is limited: we do not see the whole picture, which is distorted by our desires and self-interest. But, most importantly, knowers of Truth ‘see’ the wheel in its right perspective: for them, the wheel is a phenomenon that seems to appear in universal consciousness, the true Being in all.

We know that no analogy is entirely adequate, and the following verse presents a different vision of the world and our situation:

We see (a river of) five streams, with five sources, five stormy rapids springing from the mind, five whirlpools, five branches, each with multiple outlets. (1:5)

The experience of life is compared here to a great river. Within it are five streams flowing through the five sense organs, which perceive the elements of nature. The river of life flows through the five stages of conception, birth, growth, decline, and death. We are challenged by a lack of knowledge, egoism, attachment, aversion, and the fear of death. In the end, the streams return to the ocean and individuality is dissolved.

Again, the imprisoning force is not envisaged as entirely external: our own habits of sense, thought and desire make their contribution to what the Upanishad calls the stormy course of this river.

Like the wheel, the river is also perceived by the wise as a phenomenal appearance that does not limit the true Self. It is noteworthy that in this Upanishad, the wheel is not called the wheel of Sansara (repeated worldly existence). Instead, it is called the wheel of Brahman, the supreme power, which is said to sustain and nourish the wheel and the beings within it. Even on this wheel, therefore, there is an intimate link with the supreme reality. Our choice is either to become absorbed in the details of the wheel, confining our attention to our own particular spoke, or to seek to know the supreme power which is the ultimate mover. The Upanishad declares that the individual soul (‘jiva’), feeling itself to be different from the Supreme Reality, suffers on this wheel. But when it realises its essential identity with the ultimate controller of the wheel, then it knows itself to be free and immortal:

So long as individuals (jivas) believe that the self is separate from the inner ruler, they wander around on the great wheel, which sustains all beings and into which they dissolve. When the inner ruler is adored as identical, they attain immortality. (1:6)

This is the heart of non-duality. Ignorance and suffering are rooted in a distorted view: the conviction that one is an individual separate from the Absolute. When one begins to adore the inner ruler as one’s own true self, one is on the path to liberation and fearlessness. This is an example of how the Shvetashvatara Upanishad fuses the highest devotion and knowledge. The next verse continues:

It is the supreme Brahman alone that has been proclaimed. On that appears the threefold world. Brahman is the immutable foundation. The sages, having realised Brahman as the essence of phenomena, become devoted to Brahman alone; completely merged in Brahman, they attain immortality. (1:7)

In accordance with the limitations of our mind, Brahman has been indicated as the ultimate foundation on which the threefold universe appears to exist. The threefold nature may refer to matter, energy and order; or to knowledge, knower and known; or to objects, experience and the controller. Regardless of how it is understood, all three are aspects of the phenomenal world. Brahman is not limited by the world, and to know Brahman as Self is to be free of all limitations.

For the enlightened sages, there is no separate world to have a separate cause; there is only Brahman, the Absolute Self. We should not think that the world has any existence independent of Brahman, nor that Brahman is in any sense limited by the phenomenal world. The phenomenal world depends on Brahman, but Brahman depends on nothing else because ultimately there is nothing else. Devotion means controlling the mind and instincts by bringing them into harmony with the power that governs the manifest world, and then becoming absorbed in the contemplation of Brahman as the only Reality.

The Upanishad continues to indicate how Brahman is to be understood as both apparently supporting and transcending the world:

The Supreme Being (here called Isha, ‘Lord’) supports this universe, which consists of a combination of the perishable and the imperishable, the manifest and the unmanifest. When separated from the Lord, the individual soul (jiva) becomes bound by attachment to worldly pleasures; when it again realises the Supreme (Devam), it is freed. (1:8)

The Upanishad is helping us to understand an important distinction. It suggests that the universe may be understood as consisting of two aspects. One is the manifest forms which we perceive through our senses. The other is the cause of these forms. The cause is not manifest; we cannot perceive it, but we logically infer that the manifest world must have an unmanifest cause. When we begin the path of enquiry, we usually think of the unseen cause of what we can see as the highest Reality, or God, or whatever we call that. Here, the Upanishad teaches that both the manifest and the unmanifest are aspects of the limited, phenomenal universe. Transcending both is the Absolute Reality, Supreme Being, beyond all limitations and divisions, the ultimate support of the apparent universe.

Now we have a distinction between the unmanifest cause of the manifest world, and the supreme Reality in which all forms, manifest and unmanifest, seem to arise. Both these may be referred to, in different contexts, as the Source, the Support, God, the Lord, the Highest. For clarity, let us refer to them by the names ‘Ishvara’ (the relative) and ‘Brahman’ (the Absolute), respectively.

In verse eight above, the words Isha, Lord, and Devam, Divinity, are used. It says that when there is experience of being separate from the Lord as our ultimate nature, there is bondage to cause and effect, and therefore suffering; and when Divinity is known, there is total freedom. The words Isha and Devam often refer to Ishvara, the ‘Source’ or ‘God’ which is limited by its connection to the apparent world; here, they both refer to Brahman, the Absolute. It is only knowledge of the absolute Brahman that confers total freedom.

We might wonder why words are being used interchangeably in this way. Would difficulty and confusion be avoided if Ishvara and Brahman were referred to consistently as we have defined them? There are reasons why, at times, other words are used that have different meanings in different contexts. We distinguished between Ishvara and Brahman, but we have also stated that ultimately, there is only Brahman; therefore, in this sense, Ishvara and Brahman are not different. Provisionally, we could compare Jiva, Ishvara and Brahman, to waves, ocean and water. Using this analogy, Ishvara is not different from Brahman, as the ocean is not different from water. Therefore, it is legitimate and necessary sometimes to use names that refer to the ocean, or the water, or both.

We also said that Brahman is the ultimate support on which all depend. However, even this is speaking imprecisely, because logically, Brahman cannot be the source or support of anything, because there is nothing other than Brahman to be supported or dependent.

In this sense, the real meaning of the word Ishvara, the apparent support of the apparent world, is Brahman, the ultimate Reality in all. And if we use the word Brahman in relation to anything else, it must refer to the ‘Support’ or ‘God’ conditioned by its apparent relation to the world, that is, Ishvara. Both words, rightly understood, imply each other. What is important is that we should respect, and, as far as possible, understand, the meaning of both correctly. And thus we find the Shvetashvatara Upanishad using various words, names and expressions of respect, all pointing to that which both supports, and transcends, the phenomenal world. Its verses combine heartfelt devotion to what we depend on, and penetrating enquiry into that in us which transcends all dependency:

The all-knowing and the ignorant, the almighty and the powerless, are both unborn. The one who brings together the enjoyer and the enjoyed (subject and object) is also unborn. When all three are realised as Brahman, the Self that assumed the form of the universe becomes inactive. (1:9)

This is another analysis of our apparent situation and the right knowledge that liberates. What is here called ‘all-knowing’ and the ‘almighty’ is Ishvara, the source and inner ruler of the phenomenal world. The one called ‘ignorant’ and ‘powerless’ is the Jiva, cut off from true Self-knowledge and subject to forces beyond its control. A question arises: how has this situation come about? How is it that within Absolute Reality, Brahman, there seems to have appeared a phenomenal world, and within the world, individuals experiencing themselves as the subject, and things as objects? There is no entirely rational answer to this question; we can only observe that it appears so. The inexplicable source of the inexplicable appearance is referred to as Maya. It is philosophically important to understand that Maya is not a real power with real products; the word Maya is simply a label for the appearance of a phenomenon that only appears in the absence of right knowledge.

The key to liberation is the knowledge that all three, Ishvara, Jiva, and Maya, do not ultimately exist independently; they are phenomenal appearances which seem to exist in Brahman. To help us understand this, the Upanishad says further that none of these three are born; they are birthless. They are not the real effects of a real cause separate from Brahman. This does not mean that babies are not born in the world. It means that the whole world of birth and death and causation appears phenomenally; there is but Brahman, birthless, immutable, Self-luminous. When this is known directly, as one’s own true nature, there remains no possibility of any limitation or suffering.

We have thought about distinctions such as Jiva, Ishvara and Brahman, and the path may be seen as a gradual expansion in our sense of identity, from the limited to the universal:

By knowing the Lord (deva), all fetters are broken; with the dispelling of ignorance comes the end of birth and death. When there is no longer identification with the body, there is the state of universal Lordship (vishvaishvara). Then all desires are fulfilled and the Absolute (kevala) is realised. (1:11)

Meditation on the Real leads out of limitations and suffering, to identity with the source and support of the apparent phenomena. Finally, even that state is transcended, realising identity with the Absolute, one without a second.

The promise of this progression may be helpful and inspiring up to a point, but it is important to remember that the concept of stages on a path is provisional. The truth is:

The eternal Self is to be known in direct experience; there is nothing beyond this to be known. The subject, object and their controller are nothing but Brahman. (1:12)

The purpose of all study and philosophical reflection is to clarify a simple principle: the solution to all our difficulties is true Self-knowledge, the realisation that nothing exists independently of our own Being.

Like several other Upanishads, the Shvetashvatara refers to OM as a focus for practice on the way to Self-Discovery:

Fire remains latent even while unseen in the fuel, and it appears when the fuel is ignited by friction. With OM that is to be found.

Making one’s body-mind the fuel and OM the igniter, producing friction by meditation, discover the Real. (1:13-14)

All the non-dual philosophy and practical principles are condensed and symbolised in OM (as discussed in a recent article on the Mandukya Upanishad). Progress on the path requires both legs, theory and practice:

As oil is found in seeds, butter in milk, water in wells, fire in fuel, so Self is realised in oneself through truth and concentration. (1:15)

Oil is found in seeds through pressing them, milk by churning, water by digging wells, and fire by igniting fuel; similarly, Self is realised through discipline, which begins with truthfulness and concentration. Here, the milk stands for the mind, and the butter for the peace and light that we are seeking. As with milk, the butter does not just appear, even if we want it to. The milk has to be churned, that is, given a thorough stirring, and if this is done patiently, the butter will emerge. The path laid down in the Upanishads is a comprehensive course of inner transformation, which brings out the best in us, and clears aside all tendencies that stand as obstacles to our enlightenment.

(To be continued)

Atman – the Self

Atman is not the knower and of course not the known. Atman is the ground and source of all reality and intelligibility of the Universe. It is an error to think that Shri Shankara’s philosophy of Advaita (non-duality) is subjective idealism. Deussen is wrong when he says that in the state of liberation, all plurality is annihilated and only the knower in us, and therefore Atman, remains as the unity. How little this scholar understood the conception of Atman in Shri Shankara’s philosophy.

All varied means of knowledge have Atman as their goal. When Atman is comprehended, all empirical means of knowledge are cancelled out. Atman is the bedrock of certainty. Plato’s approach of monism of the Good, is nearer to Atman than any other European guess. The arguments of Descartes regarding the existence of the Self as an absolute certainty have little in common with the explanation of Shri Shankara, to whom Atman is the essence and basis of all epistemological enquiry. Descartes says nothing definite about the nature of the Self, while the Self of Shri Shankara is identified with Blissfulness. “Atman is Brahman; Brahman is Anandam (Bliss).”

Atman is not a theological conception; it is metaphysical, its existence is self-revealed and above all proof.

When the student is bewildered and begins to doubt whether Atman is something, nothing, or the Void, when his mind surrenders before the sublimity of Atman, when all reasoning falls fatigued in its attempt to understand the fundamental Reality, the Teacher gives a thrust, a ray in the gloom of duality, with the words “Tat Twam Asi—That Thou Art.” Nowhere in any philosophy of the world, is the Truth so boldly expressed as in the dictum “Tat Twam Asi”. The pupil who has freed himself from all ignorance (avidya) and its products, and has served a teacher to acquire this clear sightedness, now cries out: ‘Aham Brahmasmi’, I am Brahman.

Critical reflection on life, called Vichara or Mimansa, is a great help in the understanding of the central Truth of Atman. ‘We live forwards, but understand backwards,’ says Kirkegaard. The mind must battle with itself in order to evolve the truth of Atman. Progressive initiations help the capacity of the mind to adjust itself to the search into Atman. The final phase of Vedanta dialectics is anubhava—experience and logic. A stick placed in a basin of water appears bent. The logic of perception will not deny its crookedness, but experience will contradict the perception. Such is Shri Shankara’s philosophy of Atman.

Vedanta is for each and everybody whose enquiring impulses have not been suffocated by love of pleasure and power. Intellectual idealism is not enough for the afflicted. The philosophy of Shri Shankara offers the fullest intellectual and moral satisfaction and something more—a vision of the whole as Atman or the Self, to end our sense of duality and the sufferings of the individual forever. Brahman is verily Anandam (Bliss).

The mind-consciousness—Jiva—cannot determine the absolute Good without discovering the source of It. From Jivatman (the individualised self) to Paramatman (the supreme Self), is the way of Vedanta; from the empirical experience of sansara to the absolute experience of Brahman.

Hari Prasad Shastri

Aids to Enlightenment

There are ways and means by which our mind can make progress towards the great goal of enlightenment. Enlightenment, or illumination, is called the great goal because it leads to lasting fulfilment. It is also great because it reveals the greatness hidden in every human heart. In traditional schools of non-duality, this goal is always taught together with the methods that lead to its realisation in our own experience.

Some may ask: ‘Is there not a teacher who can simply confer on us this realisation?’ This is not the case. Whether or not we have an outer teacher, we also have to learn how to be our own teacher. We have to do it. There is a definite way to establish our mind in serenity and satisfaction. And this will reveal our essential oneness with the infinite life that underlies the whole universe. Let us focus on five key principles that are aids on the path to self-knowledge.

1. What really matters in life is the state of our own mind and how we guide it. This is because our happiness depends, not on factors outside ourselves, but on our mind. This may seem so obvious that it hardly needs saying. But is it obvious? How do most of us live our lives? Surely most are convinced that fulfilment will come through outer arrangements, achievements and gains. It is only when we find ourselves feeling incomplete and unsatisfied, despite such attainments, that we question the strategy that has so far guided our life.

The non-dual view is that happiness is always associated with a mind at peace. We will learn that peace is something we can develop. Everyone can work towards making their mind serene, calm, relaxed. The inner work is progressive and the inner peace is progressive. A mind at peace is one that is not dominated by instinctive likes and dislikes.

There is a saying: ‘East or West, home is best’. It means the best place is the one you feel at home in. What is the one place that we live in for the whole of our lifetime? It is our mind. The secret of life is to turn our mind into an ideal home. In an ideal home, there is not only comfort. There is beauty, utility, cleanliness, order. There is a good atmosphere not spoiled by conflicts and quarrelling. It is a place we are happy to be at home in.

2. Our second key idea is that I, in my ultimate nature, am not the mind. The mind is my instrument. I use the mind much as I use my hands to do practical work and as I use my voice to communicate or to sing. The mind is not self. Mind is not the fundamental, indispensable principle in experience. We can gain insight into our essential separation from the mind when we reflect on the fact that we see the mind. We don’t just think, we know that we are thinking. We know: ‘I am aware of the flow of the thoughts, but I myself do not flow with the thoughts. I am aware that the thoughts are passing, passing, passing. But I myself do not pass. I, as this principle of awareness, never change, and I never cease to be aware of all that the mind experiences.’ All this suggests—some would say proves—that I, as the innermost self, cannot be completely identified with the thoughts.

So what is the significance of all this? It is that we are given a new possibility in our inner life. If we choose, we can adopt a new and free perspective regarding our own mind. This is possible if we grasp the implications of this key idea that the Self is not the mind. The Self is deeper, more inward. The Self is consciousness itself, that never changes and has no limits. This is our true I. The nature of ‘I’ has to be uncovered as pure, infinite, and immortal. For our true being is one with the infinite life that underlies the universe.

3. This brings us to our third essential point. The mind has a higher and a lower phase. What is meant by the lower mind or everyday mind? It is that aspect of our inner life that reacts to the sense impressions, and therefore is never still. When it is not engaged with the outer experience in this way, it is inwardly occupied in the stream of thoughts—making plans, changing plans, having doubts, daydreams, worrying, and generally functioning in a way that has no clear or higher purpose.

This is one side of the life of the mind. Higher than this kind of mental activity is our will, which can exert its power at any moment. It is through our will that we make decisions and rouse up our energies to get things done. And the will has a partner in the form of our intellect. Intellect means that part of us which has an understanding of experience and decides which course to take. The non-dual teachings add that this higher part of our mind, called the buddhi, when purified, first reflects the light of pure consciousness, the true I.

We have now added a bridge between our mind and Self. That bridge is our awakening intuitive faculty which becomes clear when we learn to use our will and intellect wisely. We have suggested that the wise use of will is to train itself in calmness, harmony and kindness, and at the same time to engage our intellect in the higher wisdom of humankind, with help from the non-dual tradition, which specialises in this quest for inner awakening.

4. The fourth principle is that the guidance we need is available. The source of the higher teachings is the ultimate reality itself, and that reality is present in every human heart. The teachings are implicit in all the great wisdom traditions and the higher phases of art, science and philosophy. The outer contexts differ, but the inner transformation and its goal are essentially the same. Reality is indicated as directly as possible in the non-dual teachings. Any doubts that arise in our mind, or apparent difficulties on the path, can be resolved and overcome if we seek with sincerity and determination.

5. The fifth of our great ideas that open a way to true freedom is expressed in the Upanishads as ‘not this, not this’, neti, neti in Sanskrit. This is the highest use of the power of negation, which is also a power of affirmation. It affirms that in my true nature I am nothing limited. We all come into the world with the ability to say ‘No, I don’t want it.’ A small child makes potent use of the word ‘No’ as soon as it is learnt. The power of saying no re-emerges in all sorts of contexts as we progress through life. Morally, we can invoke the power of ‘not this, not this’, to avoid courses of action that lead to weakness, danger or deception. We may use the word ‘no’, and the power behind it, to negate obstacles on our path: ‘No, I will not give up. I will not follow a wrong course.’

Above all, intellectually and philosophically, we can invoke this power of ‘No’ with regard to the ultimate nature of experience. We have understood that our true Self is not the mind. What, then, really is the Self? This question still needs clarification. We can talk about the freedom of the Self and its infinitude, but in practice, our sense of identification with the mind and its thoughts continues as a natural reflex. If someone finds fault with us, we tend to take it personally, which shows we are identified with our personality. We need a strong technique for reminding ourselves of our inner independence of the passing thoughts. And this is precisely the principle that is indicated in the expression ‘not this, not this’.

How does it work? One way is this: sit for a few minutes in silence, in inner reflection, and watch the thoughts coming and going. Get a sense that you are the consciousness that observes the thoughts. You cannot be both the observer and what it observes at one and the same time. Then say to the thoughts: Not this, not this. The implication is: These thoughts, these words, these pictures, memories, imaginations, are not the I, they are not my true identity. I am free from them. I take my stand on the conscious I. This is the ultimate light and it is in this light that the thoughts come and go, like birds visiting and leaving a garden. So the practice is to calmly negate the ideas that come into our mind by saying to them: Not this, not this.

We may ask: What about the ideas of the supreme Reality? There are many teachings on that in the Upanishads.

The non-dual principle is that even our ideas about God or ultimate Truth are inadequate. They are creations of the mind and are only pointers to Reality itself. And so the Upanishad, in answer to the question: ‘What is the Supreme Being?’ gives the answer: ‘Not this, not this. It is to be known as not this, not this. It is never seen but is the witness, It is never known but is the knower.’ This knowing principle is one in us all. ‘There is no other knower but this, no other seer but this... Everything else is part of the realm of limitations and is perishable.’ But the Self is infinite and imperishable.

We have looked at some ideas which show us how to help ourselves on life’s highest quest. First, we pointed out that our happiness or sorrow depends on our state of mind. The mind is our real home, and we can learn how to make it an ideal home. Then we were reminded that our true identity is not the mind in itself, but the light behind the mind, and that the mind’s role is to be used as an instrument.

Next we looked at the mind a little more closely, noting its higher and lower phases. We found that the higher mind, associated with our will and our intellect, has a transcendent potentiality which manifests when it is purified.

We then acknowledged that the help we need on this path to enlightenment is available, because Reality is the ground of Being, it is intrinsic to human nature, and in the light of the non-dual teachings, we can learn from all experiences.

Finally, we considered some aspects of the Upanishadic expression, ‘Not this, not this’. We saw how these words, or equivalents, are not only an aid to inner mastery over our thoughts, but also indicate the supreme Reality, our own ultimate, non-dual Self.

B.D.

Liberation and Action

The Thousand Teachings of Shankara, Metrical Part, Chapter One

Shankara, the great philosopher-sage who formulated the non-dual teachings, says in many of his writings that a seeker of liberation should give up action. Taken out of context, this could be misunderstood. The essential idea is that no action can result directly in liberation. The Sanskrit word ‘karma’ can be translated into English as ‘action’ or, more generally, as ‘the principle of cause and effect’, and it usually includes both aspects. Cause and effect apply in the phenomenal world, but not in the ultimate Reality. Therefore, Self-knowledge, liberation, cannot be the result of any action; the transcendent is unrelated to any causal process.

This does not mean that our actions are insignificant or that a seeker can be careless. Right action, dharma, is the foundation of inner discovery and has to be sustained throughout. The law of cause and effect is inescapable in the phenomenal world. To ‘forgive a wrong’ means to nurture no anger or hatred towards the one who committed it, and it is the most beneficial attitude for one who has been wronged; but nothing can undo or prevent the consequences of an act for the actor. Our actions and choices so far in life have led us to where we find ourselves now. Actions affect our state of mind, and vice versa, and it is states of mind that hide the truth from us. So, on the way to Self-discovery, our actions must be considered and managed carefully.

The practice of dharma brings about mental clarity, allowing one to contemplate and affirm the teachings. In this sense, right action is a stage on the path to Self-knowledge. But the necessary attention to right action should not lead us to forget that no action can be the immediate cause of liberation. If we believe that Self-knowledge could be the result of actions, we have misunderstood the nature of the Self, which is the absolutely Real, beyond appearances and change. And misunderstanding of Self is the primary obstacle on the way to Self-knowledge.

Shankara lived around the eighth century of the common era in what is now India, where priests taught that rituals and ceremonies were the necessary and effective means to the highest goal of life. Because these views were widespread and influential, Shankara often had reason to debate against them. Once non-duality has been understood in principle, it would be a wrong affirmation to engage in ceremonial actions in pursuit of self-realisation.

Does this mean that practices such as study, reflection and meditation are actions which should also be abandoned? This is a delicate point to be considered carefully by students of non-duality. Shankara distinguishes between two types of aspirants. The first are those who still identify with the body and mind and are experiencing the practical and philosophical challenges that arise from this. The second are those who have been convinced through study and reflection that it is the body and mind that act, while their true Self, the Self of all, is necessarily actionless. At this stage, the practice of study, reflection and meditation means maintaining and deepening this realisation. Right identification cannot be given up because it is the truth of our own nature; what has to be given up are thoughts and acts which appear to contradict it.

Most of Shankara’s writings are commentaries on the Upanishads. There is one text, known as the Thousand Teachings, which most scholars agree is definitely by Shankara himself and is a direct expression of his own views. It is partly in prose, partly in verse, and the first chapter of the verse part is about the renunciation of karma. Let us consider what Shankara teaches here. He begins with a salutation to truth and then says:

The Veda, having dealt with ritualistic and other enjoined actions from marriage onwards, begins to expound Knowledge of the Absolute (brahma-vidyā).

(The Thousand Teachings of Shankara, Metrical Part, Chapter One, Verse Two).

Ceremonies associated with marriage and other life events have their place, and references to such ceremonies are found in the revealed teachings. This text is intended for people who have led dharmic lives and are now beginning to explore the teachings that lead through dharma to metaphysical Knowledge.

Being in a body is the result of causes (karma). In a body, there is pleasure and pain, from which there is sure to be attachment and aversion, leading to more action and therefore more effects. Thus goes on the cycle of birth and death. (3-4)

This explains our situation in the phenomenal world. It is the outcome of previous causes. We inevitably experience well-being and suffering, giving rise to attachment (to what promotes well-being) and aversion (to sources of suffering). We act with attachment to the results of action, believing that those results are rightfully ours and wanting the results to be favourable to the well-being of the body and mind. Thus, we remain bound in the process of cause and effect, of life and death, with all the attendant limitations and anxieties. Eventually:

When the conviction arises that the cause of this process is ignorance, there is the desire to put an end to that ignorance.

Only knowledge can eradicate ignorance, not karma, for karma is not incompatible with ignorance.

Unless ignorance is eradicated, one cannot eliminate attachment and aversion and further action will certainly arise from these two afflictions. Hence pure knowledge is taught here for the sake of final beatitude. (5-7)

Ignorance (nescience) is the belief that we are the body-mind bound by causal laws in the world, and not knowing the true Self, which is untouched by suffering. This is the root of our discontent and anxiety. The solution to ignorance is knowledge, nothing other, so the teachings on Knowledge of the Real are given.

Someone who disagrees with this view might raise the following objection:

So long as one lives, one should do action (karma), which works together with knowledge for liberation. Knowledge and karma are both ordained. The revealed scriptures say that failing to perform karma is a sin of omission.

Knowledge has a definite result, but this does not mean that it depends on nothing else. Sacrifice also has a definite effect, but it depends on other factors (like the preparation beforehand). In the same way, knowledge depends on working together with karma. (9-11)

But, Shankara continues, this argument is wrong, because karma is incompatible with knowledge. Karma involves ego-feeling, the conviction ‘I am the doer and I will reap the results’. Knowledge means understanding that one is the changeless Self. Knowledge is based on the Truth that is known; action is based on the intention of the doer. So karma and knowledge are mutually exclusive. (12-13) The reference to the definite result of knowledge is a philosophical point, which will be resolved later. Then:

Knowledge annihilates the factors of action just as it annihilates the notion of water seen in the desert (in the case of a mirage). Having accepted this as the truth, how could one engage in action? (14)

Knowledge removes the nescience of identification with the body-mind. The knower is not the doer of action, or affected by karma, the causes and effects, which all belong to the mind-body in the phenomenal world. Karma no longer exists for the knower, so how could the knower act with the intention of producing a result? Therefore:

Knowledge and karma are incompatible. Karma is to be let go of by the seeker of liberation. (15)

For the liberated, there is no question of being involved in karma, and any instruction is superfluous. This verse is intended for the seeker of liberation who is convinced in principle that the Self is actionless, that is, who has indirect knowledge. The need, then, is to affirm this truth, which includes not performing any action in the belief that it could result in liberation. If the seeker has any residual sense of being bound to the world of cause and effect, and subsequent attachment to the results of their actions, this nescience is to be consciously renounced. The Bhagavad Gita teaches that it is sometimes best to see this letting go as an offering or sacrifice to Truth, to the Self. Shankara makes clear that the essential step is to abandon karma, the wrong idea that Self is bound by causality. Any instructions regarding action are intended for those still identified with the body. (16) Then:

When the body and all other superimposed elements have been eliminated by thinking ‘not thus, not thus’, the Self is left over at the end. Therefore, one eliminates nescience in order to become awake to the Self that is void of all distinctions. [17]

The Brihadaranyaka Upanishad teaches the method of saying ‘not thus, not thus’ (neti, neti). The meaning is: my true Self is not the body, and phenomena are not absolutely real apart from Brahman. What remains, what cannot be negated, is Self. No karma, no process of cause and effect, can bring about Knowledge. What is necessary and possible is the negation of nescience.

When nescience has been eliminated by knowledge, how could it recur? It does not exist in the Self. The idea of being the doer of action and experiencing the results cannot arise when one knows ‘I am Brahman’. Therefore, knowledge is not supported by anything. (18-19)

Karma does not exist in the Self. The only need is to sustain that knowledge and affirmation. It cannot be that karma is required to ‘support’ knowledge, because karma is incompatible with Knowledge and does not exist where there is Knowledge. Being non-existent, it cannot recur.

Therefore, it is taught that renouncing karma is superior to performing actions. In the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, it is said: ‘This much alone leads to immortality’. So karma is to be renounced by seekers of liberation. (20-21)

There are preparatory practices that must be done, including truth-speaking, self-control, and charity. These are performed with the feeling ‘I am the doer and will be rewarded by the results’. This stage is superseded when the conviction arises, ‘My Self is immutable Being and Consciousness; cause and effect apply only in the phenomenal world’. The quote shows that the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, one of the oldest and most revered texts, teaches action at the preliminary stage, but that liberation comes only with the superior knowledge that cause and effect do not exist in Self.

Next, a philosophical objection that was raised earlier is resolved. Knowledge has the certain and definite effect of ending ignorance. This is another reason why Knowledge does not depend on action. In verse ten, the opponent disagrees and says that this certainty does not mean that knowledge is unconnected to action. The opponent says that ritual acts also have a definite effect, even though those acts depend on external support. Equally, says the objector, although the effect of knowledge is certain, knowledge also requires external support, namely, the right performance of ritual acts. Shankara now replies that ritual acts vary, both in how they are done and in their results, but the effect of knowledge does not vary, so the objector’s argument is invalid and powerless. (22-23) (The opponent represents a view that is not widely held nowadays. If this point appears obscure, it need not detain us.)

The opponent also argued that, according to some texts, not performing certain acts is a sin of omission. Shankara replies that these instructions are intended only where there is egoity (ahankara), the conviction ‘I am the doer’. For one who knows the Self, there is no egoity or desire for results. (24) There should be no fear concerning the effects of not performing ritual acts when the limitations of those acts are understood.

The chapter concludes that the instructions about action in the preliminary stages have been completed, and now the Upanishad begins, so that nescience and bondage may be overcome (25). It is explained that the name Upanishad is formed from the verb ‘sad’, meaning to destroy, with the prefixes ‘upa’ and ‘ni’. (26) The meaning is that the Upanishad completely removes all that needs to be removed, that is, ignorance. There is nothing greater than this.

P.H.

Listen Carefully

A discourse by Hari Prasad Shastri, given September 24th, 1950

OM. O Varuna, Thou art the object of our worship. Remove our shackles—physical, mental, and those caused by the unseen agencies—because the shackles of the world in the form of infatuation lead to the degradation of the soul. O eternal God, enable us to obey Thy command so that we may be freed from all limitations, and may enjoy the bliss of Thy contemplation. OM

(Prayer from the Rig Veda)

I offer you a few hints on meditation. The texts of meditation are ideas, not thoughts, because thoughts arise spontaneously and are not governed by any visible law. Ideas are set and fixed, and they are like seeds planted in the mind. When we meditate, we take an idea, and it has a two-fold benefit. First, it comes from a source which is enlightened, and its meaning is very exalting; secondly, it has the quality of the enlightened source. And it may be added that certain meditations are selected for us, to be undertaken by us.

Then, meditation is an idea and it is to be planted deep. The mind is a field in which you can plant ideas, and therefore the meditation, which is an idea, is to be planted in the mind and held in the mind. The process is twofold. First, to make room for the idea by suppressing desires. Our mind is very often choked with desires; to ‘make room’ means to suppress the desires by telling the mind that they are useless, that their conception does not lead to any real good. Then secondly, to exercise the power of the will to plant the idea and to hold it there. To hold it, it is helpful to use a keyword, into which all meditation condenses. You may take ‘OM’. Many meditations begin and end with OM.

Let us remember that the study of the holy classics has a definite purpose and end. It is that we may become masters of our destiny. Destiny is the force generated by the accumulated actions of the past. Life is partly free and partly bound. We are bound by our past karma but we have the power to alter it and guide our life towards the right path. The purpose of the holy knowledge is to help us to be the masters of ourselves by revealing the true nature of the Self. You cannot be master of a thing unless you know it. This study is not just for intellectual benefit, but that our mind should be in a fit condition to receive the truth; and we should study to render it fit both to receive the truth and to meditate on the truth.

Pure consciousness alone does not produce knowledge of the outside world; it is made possible by consciousness encased in the vritti, or modification of the mind. Unaided by consciousness, vritti is dark. All the time, vrittis are arising in our mind, shaped by the effects of the past. The whole life, all day, we have to live like students and suppress those vrittis which are not useful. We should live in such a way that our actions and thoughts are progressive, suppressing the vrittis which are impediments to samadhi (deep meditation) and encouraging others which help us to attain samadhi. When eventually the great vritti “I am Brahman” arises, a great change takes place in the antahkarana (whole mind). We have to help the rise of this supreme vritti.

In the holy Yoga, to begin our day by meditation on a statement of truth is considered a benediction. ‘That which is bliss eternal, light, and all-pervasive, on which subsist names and forms, which is not perceived by the mind but by whose power the mind perceives, I am that pure and infinite Being.’

By whose power does the mind acquire the faculty of perception? We cannot think of eternal bliss in this world. The mind likes a new thing, but interest in any object wears off when we get used to it; it loses its charms. This is true of all objects in the world, for nothing in the world is nitya sukha (eternally blissful). But there is something which is eternal bliss and light. Man naturally desires light, spiritual as well as physical. Aristotle says: ‘Man delights in exercising his faculty of knowledge. He wants to know.’ Here it is said that it is not only bliss but light, and also that it is vibhu (all pervasive). It is available everywhere. If you want to see roses, you must go to a rose-garden; they are not all-pervasive. In order to be real, actual, a thing must be free from all limitation (upadhis) then only is it all-pervasive.

The world, when viewed without consideration, seems to be a conglomeration of names and forms. Is there anything behind names and forms? Name denotes the named; form denotes the formed. In this whole world, what is that on which the names and forms subsist? It is: ‘That which is bliss (sukha), light, all-pervasive, and namarupa adhara (the support of all names and forms)’, that is to say, the support of the universe which is nothing but names and forms. It is not perceivable by the intellect. The intellect claims to be able to know about everything, but it cannot know that which enlightens the intellect. The intellect functions in the realm of multiplicity. It is inherent in the nature of the intellect that it functions in the realm of multiplicity. But that Reality is One and above multiplicity; therefore it is beyond the power of the intellect to know it.

Is this the same as the philosophy of Herbert Spencer which postulates an unknown and unknowable, and a known and knowable? No! It looks unknown, but it is more than known because, animated by it, the intellect functions. That beyond which the intellect cannot go is the Reality, and ‘That I am.’ The eye cannot see itself; fingers cannot hold themselves. Such is the Reality which supports names and forms; therefore, we should give up all attempts to try to know it by the intellect. A cow will graze only on grass and not on the pebbly shore of the sea; flame rises upward, water runs downward; these are inherent tendencies. The intellect is an evolute of inert matter; its purpose is synthetic and analytic, and presupposes multiplicity. It cannot know the Knower. That is more than known and more than knowable. It is not knowable by the mind in its present state, but by the mind in samadhi. What is That? ‘That I am, pure (that is, unmixed with anything else), apara (beyond which you cannot go). I am that pure and infinite Being, which is bliss eternal, light, all-pervasive, the support of all names and forms, which the mind cannot know but by whose power the mind functions. My nature is comparable to a shoreless sea, and the waves rising in it are the Lord Creator (Brahma).’

The whole philosophy is revolutionary and goes beyond what you consider God in the ordinary way. The ‘Lord Creator’ is a product of Maya in Consciousness, a supreme phenomenon in the ocean of Consciousness. The shoreless sea is the sea of Consciousness and, as the sea produces waves and so forth, my nature produces waves as the Father in Heaven, the Three of the Holy Trinity, God the Creator, the God of all wealth, and the other deities. The absolute Consciousness, the Self of man, is like an ocean and all that is, all that can be comprehended and apprehended, is phenomenal, arising and subsisting in my nature. This nature is to be realised by means of meditation and yogic living, and when it is realised, you will understand that even the determinate God is also your creation. It is the boldest expression that can possibly be made. Even the personal God is the creation of this infinite Consciousness, which is of the nature of the Self of man, and there is nothing beyond It. Therefore, the yogi must detach his mind from all else and try to understand and realise his own nature, by realising which he will realise that he is the Lord even of God Himself. All the deities of nature, in any form, are the creations arising from the waves of Maya, having their existence, phenomenally and not really, in man’s own nature.

Seeing Ourselves in a New Light

Meditation helps us to acquire that inner peace and serenity which gives, not necessarily a life of joy, but joy in life. Such joy is available and close at hand. The non-dual teaching is that our innermost Self, our ‘I’, when truly understood, is the source of joy. Therefore joy is to be sought within our own being and not outside, and there are elements in our personality which even now are conducive to the revelation of that joy.

We need to see ourselves in a new light, and be convinced, intellectually, emotionally and intuitively, that the treasure we are seeking—the light of higher knowledge—is innate within our own being, and needs to be uncovered or released, not created anew.

There is bliss at the heart of human experience. It is close to the surface of the mind in early childhood, and seems, then, to be a natural condition, unless inhibited by pain, fear or hunger. But time passes and conventional influences shape our thoughts. The sense of being at one with all is replaced by the urge to possess and compete. Such considerations become habitual and steal away our joy, so that hardly anything sparks our genuine appreciation.

Two people were rambling across a hill. Birds were singing, a skylark hovered above, while at their feet were wild flowers of many kinds. Suddenly a man appeared, red-faced with anger and perspiration, shouting: ‘Where are the mushrooms, where are the mushrooms?’ The other people said: ‘We don’t know of any mushrooms here.’ ‘What!’, the man exclaimed. ‘I was told that there are good mushrooms here to be picked. If there aren’t any, then what’s the good of being here?’

This may be an extreme example, but the state of mind it suggests, burdened with care and lacking perspective, may well be one that invades us from time to time. The mind of the mushroom seeker was under a desire which, when frustrated, turned to anger, which easily happens. Our own personal difficulties may be less intense and under control. Nonetheless, while they lurk in our heart and influence our emotions, the inner sunshine of true joy is bound to be eclipsed.

The illumined teachers inform us that however deep and persistent the trends of our mind, they can be transformed in such a way as to release the inner sunshine. This principle is illustrated in the lines of the buddhist sage, Kobo Daishi:

By removing the mist, we see the light;

We find the inexhaustible treasury open to all to enjoy,

Shining forth ever more fresh day by day.

It is obvious that our mind is the hub of all our experience, but this inner centre is not usually scrutinised or analysed by us in the way that our outer affairs are—unless we are particularly interested in philosophy or psychology. But if we can occasionally pause and take note of our inner experience, we find that the mind is a fascinating entity, wonderful in its normal capacities, yet troublesome and hard to manage.

At first the mind gives no sure clue of the deeper and joy-giving values hidden at its source. All we know is that we want happiness, we want light, and we do what we can outwardly to secure it. At the same time we try to avoid every kind of pain. It is as if something in us has an affinity with joy and a natural impulse to shun its opposite.

Before reflecting deeply on why our mind naturally and automatically chooses joy, let us consider the typical, unreflective sense of ‘mind’ which forms in most people as life matures and our chief concern is the outer field. Here we have what might be called the everyday mind as a continuous presence, responding to life’s happenings with a sort of inner commentary, charged with feelings of varying intensity, like the background music that creates emotional drama in a film. We live with this mental activity, but our awareness of it is hazy, intermittent, unplanned and uncontrolled. Indeed it seems to be unimportant compared with the solid worldly affairs we are usually engaged in.

Even at this level, we experience a deeper phase of mental life that has brought us to where we are as civilised beings. We call it ‘reason’, and life depends on its ongoing organising power. Without it, there would be no education, no organised social or professional life with its multiple structures and infrastructures. Yet reason can be used to destroy as well as to construct. Human beings have been endowed with reason, ‘hence their power’s increased, to be far beastlier than any beast’, wrote Goethe. The secret of joy in life is not to be found within the range of reason.

If we examine more carefully our current mental range, we may discover tendencies that reach beyond simple sense-gratification, and some would place artistic appreciation in this category. When we rest our attention on a work of art, or a poem, or phase of nature, or small children playing, we may note in ourselves a different kind of joy that has nothing to do with personal gain. This is the liberating joy referred to by the poet Rilke as ‘to gaze without craving—the great artist’s gaze.’

A higher joy is thus emerging as a possibility, and some would feel that the obvious means of discovering such a joy is not so much art as religion. Here we find ourselves engaged in an emotive issue, where both joy and religion need to be more closely defined and understood. The glory of true religion, seen in the light of the non-dual philosophy, may thus be indicated: religion, in its true sense, is a non-material and yet non-psychological force, which binds the essence of consciousness to the universal consciousness and opens to the soul the door to a life of expanse, creative delight, benevolent peace and conscious immortality.

This is a view of religion which may not gain our immediate comprehension, but which indicates a power that transcends dogma and sect, and promises expansion of consciousness and freedom to those who are willing to plumb its depth.

The non-dual philosophy and practice, though not itself a religion, deals with the realisation of these higher possibilities. It is not just a product of the everyday mind and its powers of reason. It helps us to expand into those higher forms of experience, and in so doing, reveals the innate joy at the heart of human nature. It presents the mind not as a hazy mystery that is beyond our power to control, but as a wonderful instrument which can be shaped and led according to our choice. It shows how we can not only think intelligibly about our thinking, but how we can live according to a mind-plan that makes for inner progress and revelation.

The great idea underlying this development is that there is a new way of knowing, if we are willing to take the trouble to calm, control and clarify the inner world of the mind. Such a tranquillisation is possible through meditation and through doing our best to keep our mind charged with good thoughts and good feelings. In that interior stillness there is, as it were, a clearing of the mists. A higher phase of our intelligence—all good—becomes operative and this in turn leads to the recognition that our nature—our true self—is the eternal source of joy and wisdom—the wholeness of being itself.

There is a sense in which we are already familiar with this aspect of our nature. It expresses itself as will and what may be called our wisdom-intellect or higher intellect. No one is without this faculty of will. It is the central power of our mind. Our wisdom-intellect is also operative in all of us. But these powers are not always used. To take an example, we say something we regret. We said it in temper. Our friend says to us ‘Can’t you think before you speak?’ The fact is, we always think before we speak. The process is so fast that it sometimes seems that our voice is working independently of the mind. First the thought, then the speech. What was not applied when we made the offending comment, was the will and the wisdom intellect. It is the intellect which knows ‘this is a silly thing to say—better not to say it’. This part of us is intelligent, and is a mighty inner power when coupled with its aspect as will. So there is something in us that knows more than the everyday mind. We can justifiably call this the higher mind. This is important because we bring these faculties into operation in our meditation.

In our higher training—our mind-plan—we slowly become aware of a gradation of interior powers—our powers. The wisdom of this wisdom intellect needs to be uncovered and goes very far indeed. The power of our will working in partnership with our wisdom intellect also has a great role to play in guiding and uplifting our inner life. But who and what we are goes even deeper than this.

Meditation and other mind-calming practices, gradually rouse into operation the higher phases of our will and intellect, and this process leads to a discovery. We find that this faculty—this higher mind—has something more to its composition than the world can analyse. This higher mind has a transcendent element in it—something superior to the mind itself. It is a genuine source of guidance, insight and overview, and it knows the way to freedom.

We still have not reached the source of our inner life, which is also the peak of our being. And this is what the non-dual philosophy identifies as our true nature: atman. It is the source of bliss. It is what is referred to in such sentences as:

Why do you seek for treasure outside?

Within yourself you have the bright pearl.

The kingdom of heaven is within you.

Allah is nearer to you than the vein in your neck.

The key role of our will and wisdom-intellect is that it has the capacity to be influenced and transformed by the power present in this ultimate principle.

Sometimes it is said that this great reality is reflected in the quiescent intellect like the full moon in still water. Thus our mind can become a mirror—not just of outer appearances but of inner reality.

Loosely speaking, our situation—our true status—may be compared to that of Gulliver in Jonathan Swift’s classic novel, Gulliver’s Travels. You remember Gulliver was shipwrecked on a remote island called Lilliput. Being tired he fell asleep on the beach. When he awoke, he found his body couldn’t move. It had been tied down to the sands by hundreds of threads and pegs. Actually he could move, but it was awkward and he was cautious. He could feel ant-like sensations crossing his body. Raising his head a little he found that he was surrounded by tiny people no bigger than a finger—hundreds of them who are the ones who had tied him down out of fear.

We can say that the thoughts that have overrun us, that seem to be driving us and seem to have the power to throw us into irritation, moods, misery and worries—this seeming multiplicity and multitude of our thoughts—are like the lilliputians, their so-called power to bind is no more than those threads and pegs.

Our higher being—the intellect and the will—is like Gulliver. He is never deceived by the apparent bondage of his position, and can manifest his freedom at any time. Subsequent illustrations show him propped up and watchful, and a final picture has him back on his feet, towering above the pygmy world fearless and also harmless.

In a similar way our relationship with our everyday mind is meant to be one of benevolent authority where we ourselves decide whether it should have a free range or whether it should be guided, whether it should think of this happening or desire, or replace it with thoughts based on the higher wisdom.

A.H.C

The Goal of Transcendence

There are basically two types of philosophy which the individual adopts in regard to the purpose of life. The first is ‘this-worldly’ and aims by one means or another to make the best of things as they are, or rather as they appear to be to the empirical eyes. Among such philosophies there are many different prescriptions of the best road to follow, but all are united in trying to achieve as nearly perfect an arrangement as possible in this world. Materialism is one form of such a philosophy, but in the modern world there are many people who are not necessarily out-and-out materialists but who put their faith in the empirical sciences of sociology and economics. The explicit, or implicit, basis of their prescription for mankind is that, by making the necessary adjustments in the outer organization of society or in the distribution of wealth, we can create a heaven on earth or at least the nearest approximation to it which is possible in life.

The essential character distinguishing such philosophies is that they find no place for anything beyond this world in their account of human nature or of the potentialities of the human spirit for further evolution.

The spiritual outlook is utterly opposed to this point of view. The idea that the purpose of life is simply to make the best of empirical things as they are is based on a totally inadequate view of human nature. The empirical world is ultimately unable to satisfy us permanently, since any of the objects which it offers to us have a deceptive element in them. Their attraction is due to something infinitely desirable, which is half glimpsed through the empirical experience but misinterpreted as residing in the object itself. We can only evolve by setting our mind on a transcendent goal, because the real object of our quest always is transcendent. It is the beauty and sweetness of Paramatman (highest Self) which is drawing us on, even in the empirical experience. Moreover, by their very nature, the sense objects which make up the empirical world are insubstantial and unsatisfying. How can one find and achieve permanent peace and satisfaction from something which is only an ever-changing appearance, and which dissolves like Shakespeare’s ‘insubstantial pageant faded’ when we try to grasp and possess it?

Even in terms of achieving their own ideal—the improvement of human society, the attainment of international peace and the elimination of the evils of poverty, starvation and illness—the this-worldly philosophies are not successful. If we look at the great ameliorative movements, which have led to a real improvement in the major ills endured by humanity, we find that it is the idealistic impulse, inspired by a transcendent philosophy, which has led the way. Prison reform, the abolition of slavery, the institution of modern nursing care of the ill, were not the fruits of ‘this-worldly’ philosophy. They arose from the initiative of individuals like John Howard, Elizabeth Fry, William Wilberforce and Florence Nightingale, who were all inspired by a strong spiritual sense of purpose. It was their urge for transcendence which sustained their self-dedication to these causes against all the empirical obstacles which were put in their way by the narrow self-interest and prejudice of their more empirically oriented contemporaries.

Sincere seekers of higher wisdom have the task of keeping this ideal of self-transcendence ever before us. Our greatest ally in this endeavour is the heart of man himself, which, however it may be bemused by temporary aberrations, contains within it the innate sense of that spiritual dimension in which spiritual perfection can be sought and found.

A.M.H.

Bhakti Yoga – the Way of Devotion

From a talk by Hari Prasad Shastri given May 7th, 1943

Mankind is a detail in this most wonderful universe where every detail is profound and defies human comprehension. The universe is a book, so to say, written by the august Author, the Lord Omniscient and Omnipresent, and each and every word of this book is infinite in its scope, most profound in its meaning and almost incomprehensible by the naked or unaided human intelligence. Our reason is a guide, to a certain extent, in things which are of our every day use, but when we come to assay the great purpose of our life or of the beginning of the creation or its end, reason can only say what it is not.

The august Author of the book of the universe reveals Himself in the hearts of those with whom He is pleased, and by virtue of His presence, realised by them, they are able to read a bit of this book of the universe. In Anthony and Cleopatra Shakespeare says, putting the words into the mouth of dear little Charmian: ‘In the book of nature a little I can read’. Neither Plato nor Hegel nor David Hume was able to read with any precision any two lines of the book of nature, but they have been read by what are called the sages who have risen above the worldly part of their mind and united the essence of their mind in devotion and contemplation with the Lord Himself. When we want to understand the divine mystery the surest way is to arrive with great reverence at the door of these Holy Rishis.

Our chief purpose in life is to discover the divine element in our own personality and to surrender it to the Lord of the Universe from whom it has come and to whom it is bound to return. Those who do not do so today have postponed a golden opportunity. This is the purpose of life. If this point is not understood, vain is our pretention to religion, vain is our study, vain is our life, wasted is all our energy.

There is a divine ray in the intellect of man, and man is here to purify his heart, to still his mind, to universalise his conduct and, through devotion, virtue and other means, know the nature of this divine ray, to realise the divine ray in its entirety, that is, God Himself. When this point is reached the purpose of the evolution of life is complete. There is no more wisdom to be learned, there is no more book to be studied, there is no action to be accomplished.

The second question is how can we do so? The right philosophy is that which accords with our nature. What is the nature of man? It is triple. To know, to feel, to act. Then the philosophy which accords with these three principles of our nature must be the philosophy of our life. Therefore the ancient Rishis who were masters of the psychology of man have founded three ways of accomplishing the purpose of life, that is the absorption or identification of the individual consciousness with the all-pervasive Consciousness of the Lord. It is expressed in different religions in a different way, but this is the meaning, this is the great truth.

There are three Yogas: Karma, Bhakti and also Jnana Yoga. That is to say, the way of union of the individual with the Universal by means of action, by means of love or devotion and by means of knowledge of philosophy. These are three ways. Here, we are studying the second way, the way of feeling.

The strongest element in human personality is desire. When desires are not studied and not controlled, and man follows them to execute them in life, he becomes dangerous to himself, dangerous to others. Take it my friends, a man is what his desires are. When Aristotle discusses in his Ethics who is a good man and what goodness is, he says the good is one whose desires are good. And what are good desires? Those which prompt the universal good as well as the individual good. First the universal good and then the individual good. A wandering mendicant in Holy Rishikesh whom I heard some 35 years ago used to have this cry: ‘O God, first give what is good to the whole world and then to me’. He was not a logician but his cry was piercing. Why do people marry, why do they study, why do they go about, because it is some desire impels them to undertake all these activities.

Is it possible, by means of these desires, to fullfil the purpose life, that is to know God in our being? It is a supreme question. There is a school which says ‘kill out all desires’. Very easy to read, but is it easy to do it? When teatime comes, if tea is not ready in time, there is a furrow on our brow of displeasure and disapproval, though only a short while ago we were saying to our friends and reading, how wonderful is the expression ‘kill out all desire’.

Desire is the greatest force in man, it is by desire that you can reach God. This is the Yoga of accomplishing the purpose of life by spiritualising our desires. Nothing in the world is absolutely evil. Patriotism, if allowed to run amok, results in hatred of all other countries; when sublimated it becomes a force of love of the whole world.

We have clearly to understand this point. How can we do it? There is one sharp difference between the teachings of the divine philosophers and of rationalist philosophers, and it is that it is only the divine philosophers who preach the way of love; the rationalist philosophers do not use the word love at all. The Psalms of David are unique in the spiritual literature. His theme is only one and that is raising the heart and soul to God. Why are the teachings of Christ accorded a place of honour? Because He also preaches the same theme.

Read the ninth chapter of the Gita: ‘I give thee this greatest secret because thou dost not speak ill of others’. Mind it. One who speaks ill of others is not entitled to this wisdom. What is it? ‘It is knowledge combined with experience by knowing which thou shalt be relieved of all sufferings’. Further on: ‘This is the royal science, it is the royal secret. It is holy and it is superior. It can be easily demonstrated. It is unopposed to right action, imperishable and easy to perform’. So many epithets have not been used in the Gita or in the sacred literature of the Jews or of Christians or Buddhists for any other path but this path, the path of Bhakti or Upasana.

Philosophy cannot be understood unless our intellect is trained philosophically or mathematically. But everyone, whether learned or intelligent or unintelligent, has a right to accomplish the purpose of life, that is to know God within. Surely one cannot do so by philosophy. How can he do so? By means of love, devotion. This is therefore the sovereign path, the great path, the high path. It is said it is easy to perform, which means it is natural. Everybody loves, nobody does not love. Some love foolishly, some wisely, but everybody loves, and therefore this path is easiest, the path of love.

You will say: What about virtue? Is not the path of virtue also necessary? By all means it is necessary, but virtue is an expression of the deep convictions of a man; unless there is conviction behind an action the action becomes unwarrantable. And how do those convictions about morality come which express themselves in virtue? I find agreement in this with Socrates, who has said knowledge is virtue. How does knowledge arise? You cannot know about a thing, or about a matter or about a science unless you pursue it with all your heart—that is love. The intellectual devotion of the great Jewish philosopher Spinoza is as great a devotion as the devotion of St. Catherine of Sienna or of St. Augustine or the refined devotion of St. Thomas Aquinas.

It is very easy to say: ‘Do good, do good’. Nobody does greater harm to others than those who talk of doing good. When man’s nature is refined, his actions also are refined. When all vulgarity has been cut out from one’s nature, deceit will go, ridiculing will go, adverse criticism will go and many other things including unkindness will go.

And what is the greatest refining force of the mind? Devotion to a higher ideal. The ideal becomes solid and easily approachable when its contents are reduced to a symbolical, tangible, form. The Seal of David signifies the secret of creation, a lofty ideal reduced into those triangles which form a star; the Cross is another symbol, the Crescent is another symbol, and the flute of Brindavan is another symbol.

There are two ways of studying. Studying on horseback and studying in an easy chair. Can you study when you are on horseback? Yes, one thing, and it is to shoot arrows at others like Gengis Khan. But you cannot do a mathematical sum or poem on horseback, you cannot study chemistry; but when you are sitting in a comfortable chair it is easy to study. As long as a man is conscious of a desire to extend his egotistic power over men and the environment—which constitutes the psychology of a conqueror like Tamerlane—man is trying to study while riding a horse; but when he sits calm and quiet, with most of his desires under the control of the faculties of his mind, his mind being purged of all desires to harm anybody, he is studying in his armchair and he can study better, and this armchair study is called the path of devotion.

We study this subject in terms of the Adhyatma Yoga (the way of the highest Self-knowledge), and the literature of the Adhyatma Yoga is written in Sanskrit, but it does not mean we study it from the point of view of India. The doctrine we study is neither a Hindu doctrine nor an Indian doctrine, it is the universal doctrine.

What is the foundation of this Yoga? A King once asked the sage Narada, who replied: ‘O King, I explain to thee this divine knowledge which I have heard directly from the lips of Lord God Himself. The root of this Yoga is perfect devotion to Him from whom the universe comes forth, in whom it stays, and to whom it finally returns, constantly remembering Him in your heart because thus man’s innermost Self is pleased and it opens out’.

Lao Tzu has said there is a mind within man’s mind and it is referred to here: the inner window of the heart opens out. Then he said that the following are the cardinal points of this doctrine. To speak words of truth which promote the universal welfare; practice of mercy, occasional fasts, forbearance, non-violence, continence, liberality, generosity, study of philosophy, simplicity of life, and contentment. Service of those devotees who are settled in equanimity and who love all. To free oneself from the conventions of the foolish, that is society, if they do not accord with spiritual principles.

Narad says that people usually obtain the opposite of what they strive for, and therefore always one ought to think what is best for all and give up cavilling and quibbling; to speak only as much as is necessary; to investigate the reality; to distribute property and wealth in such a way that it may be good to those who do not possess it; to let the mind dwell on the eternal principle in one’s own Self and on the Lord outside; to adore the Lord; to serve the Saints of God and particularly one’s Teacher; to cultivate the feeling of friendship with God and to offer one’s body, mind and wealth at the feet of the Lord.

The wisest thing which the Greeks have said are the words of Aristotle: ‘Man’s mind is educable’. If he likes, a man can form bad habits. Aristotle speaks in his Ethics at length about the formation of good habits. If we forget that man’s mind is educable, then our life becomes vain.

These are the foundations of the Yoga of Bhakti: write them down, keep them before you and every evening think where you have failed, and if you have failed, pray and start again. This practice is much greater than conquest of a nation or a continent, or accumulation of wealth, it produces peace and at the time of death it is most useful.