Yoga

Raja Yoga

published by The Chiltern Yoga Trust - Australia

Om Namah Shivaya

Om Namah Venkatesaya

 49. Yoga of Meditation

"The glass may be made of gold, but what makes the glass useful is the place where there is no gold - the empty space." - Taoist maxim. That is meditation. It is not the feverish activity in which you are engaged constantly that ensures your prosperity, but the period when you are in meditation. That is the creative vacuum, that is the creative silence, the creative peace.

Hence, yogi Svatmarama declares in the Hatha Yoga Pradipika: "Without hatha, raja yoga is not fruitful; and hatha is not fruitful, is not fulfilled without raja yoga. Hence, one must practice both. At the conclusion of the kumbhaka, and the restraint of prana, one should make the mind supportless - unconditioned. Then, one will attain the goal of raja yoga."

All this is laconically expressed in the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali. He declares that the mental modifications cease when the breath is suspended after being expelled. Then, surely the mind stands supportless. That is meditation.

Gheranda, however, gives the student some support! Gheranda Samhita describes three kinds of meditation - the gross, the luminous, and the subtle.

The gross meditation involves elaborate visualization, in the region of one's heart, of a heavenly abode of god, who reigns supreme in that heaven. It is contemplation of god with name and form, to be visualized in elaborate detail. This is extremely popular, especially with devotees of god. The legends known as puranas provide the devotee with very many variations of the theme for his contemplation.

The second type is the contemplation of light. The focal point can either be the muladhara chakra, or the center of the eyebrows. The student contemplates muladhara chacra, in all its glowing details, and visualizes the light of the jiva or the living soul in the form of a radiant flame. Or, he can contemplate the light of 'om' in the eyebrow center.

The third type is regarded as 'difficult to be attained, even by the gods, as it is a great mystery', in the words of the Gheranda Samhita. The student practices the sambhavi mudra during his meditation. The kundalini is awakened. Along with the self, this kundalini shakti - life-force - leaves the body through the eyes, and appears in front of the yogi. This is not easy even to imagine!

Meditation is the art of realizing the universal self, beyond the ego-sense. Universal is one, and not many; What is it that appears to have created a division in the one, so that this one appears to be many? Meditation is the quest for the answer to this question.

In the practice of the yoga asanas, we sense an intelligence which is beyond the 'me'; during the practice of pranayama, again we realize that life is governed by an intelligence that is distinct from the ego-sense. In meditation, we actually pursue this ego-sense, to see what it is, and how it veils that intelligence. In samadhi or vicara - inquiry, we discover that the ego-sense is a non-entity; it has always been a non-entity. The transcendental intelligence alone is the reality at all times. Even ignorance and enlightenment, covering and discovery, are words invented by the mind, to rationalize all this.

The one is one; it only appears to be many. Even the three factors that we discussed in the last chapter - consciousness, energy, and matter - are really not three, but one unity apprehended at three stages. If you have watched trees in early spring - especially in countries like Canada, where the growing season is brief - you see this clearly. In winter, the trees have no foliage at all. Early in spring, you go near a tree and watch; the tree knows the season, the temperature, and the climatic conditions; it has also the know-how of sprouting fresh leaves. When these sprouts emerge triumphantly, you see the fiction of the energy, the will; and then you see its materialization.

Such division of this phenomenon into knowledge, will, and action - or consciousness, energy, and matter - is not a fact, but the fruit of your own mental conditioning. You think that one has become three, and then you think that the three are somehow one. As long as this thinking thinks that it thinks, it will continue to think diversely creating contradictions, conflicts, conditioning, happiness and unhappiness, fear and anxiety.

You think that you are unhappy, and therefore you feel unhappiness. It is true that there is a temporary benefit if you come face to face with the truth that you are unhappy, only because you think you are unhappy. You know that this unhappiness is not something real in itself, but is the product of your thinking. All the great movements, which pretend to cure all ills, by enabling one to think one way or the other, are based on this wonderful formula. But, unless this discovery is your own, you do not know how to think! You think you are unhappy, so you feel unhappy. The obvious inference here is that, if you think you are happy, you will feel happy! Theoretically, it seems to be sensible, but only theoretically. It does not work, because you do not know what it is that thinks. In the case of the unhappiness which you are experiencing now, the thinking is there already. You are not producing anything, it is there, and you are observing it; whereas in the other case, are you thinking that you are happy, or are you thinking that you are thinking that you are happy? The happiness is twice removed! You are only sitting and thinking that you are thinking that you are happy. In other words, do you know what this thinking means? Who thinks? That is the problem.

There is another problem. You are seriously observing a thought - let us say of anger, and you think you discover that a thought of anger is later felt as anger. This apparent discovery sometimes makes it appear that the anger has gone, or it seems to have gone. Perhaps, it has merely been overlaid with dullness; perhaps, you are looking away inwardly. Because, to observe the anger is painful. Or perhaps, having understood all this theoretically, you imagine that, in the light of your observation, it has gone. A few days, later it comes back! That means, it was there, hidden all the time, covered with a lot of thinking and imagination. When it is thus covered, there is no longer the pain to provide the incentive to look within. What do you do now? You look within. Everything is calm - or appears so. The mind has not been conquered. A few days later, somebody else provokes you, and suddenly you realize that anger was there all the time - but you were 'asleep'. So, during that period of dullness, you lose the edge, the incentive. What must you do?

The yogi suggests that you practice an exercise. As you inhale, repeat the mantra mentally. As you exhale, repeat the mantra mentally. As this mental repetition of the mantra goes on, the mind forms a habit. This habit is not looked upon by the mind as a threat or a challenge. If breathing itself is not a challenge to the mind, then this automatic repetition of the mantra is not a challenge either. The mind is not bothered at all. The habit is formed.

You sit listening to your own mental repetition of the mantra. You hear the mantra. Who is it that is repeating the mantra? 'Me.' Who is it that is listening to the mantra? 'Me.' Now there is a new incentive to watch the mind. The thing that repeats the mantra inside, and the thing that listens to the mantra inside, both seem to be your objects of observation - and you are watching both these. You can similarly observe anger or other psychological factors now.

Only a calm mind can observe itself, can reflect. Any reflection that takes place in a distracted mind is a perversion. You can neither meditate nor reflect when the mind is in commotion. Whatever is reflected, when the reflecting medium is disturbed, is a distortion. You cannot make the mind calm, because any effort to do so is going to disturb the calmness of the mind, is going to alter the essential nature of the mind. All the methods that people have invented - including the methods of visualizing an image of god - are confessions of failure, though they are excellent aids. You do not know how to still the mind. Therefore, instead of allowing the mind to think of a million things, you make it think of just one thing - call it Krishna, Buddha, Jesus, Moses, or a mantra. When you successfully plant this mantra or image of god in the mind, you have only succeeded in creating one huge tidal wave in the mind - with the result that all the little waves disappear.

Hence, Krishna, in the Bhagavad Gita, after giving elaborate instructions for meditation, suddenly reveals the essence of meditation: "Don't think anything!" There lies the problem.

Try this exercise. Grind your whole thought process to a stand-still, by using one thought, 'I will not think,' like a broom, and sweep all other thoughts out with it. This is not meditation, but merely sitting and thinking 'I will not think'. Do this for a few minutes, then let go. Let the mind think what it likes for a couple of minutes, then begin again. You will see the fun.

You may find as many methods for meditation or for concentration, or for entering into samadhi as there are teachers in the world. Because, meditation is not a technique which can be taught, but an experience which can be caught by each one in his own unique way. Having learned these methods, when you go into your own meditation room, you will find you will still have to evolve your own method. What is good for another person, may not be good for you. After studying everything on earth, eventually you will have to discover for yourself how not to think.

In the pursuit, there are three types of internal obstacles. One - thinking itself. Streams of thought occur in the mind. From where do they come? Two - what are known as emotions. These emotions are a bit more problematic than mere thoughts. You will find that, when there is a thought, you are able to observe the thought fairly dispassionately; but when there is an emotion, it carries you off. E-motion is a motion outward. Three - the manifestation of energy - restlessness. You cannot pinpoint it as a thought or a feeling; it is just an amorphous disturbance of energy. You will have to discover it yourself, a description will not help.

The yogis have simplified our approach to these three. But, unless we come face to face with them in ourselves, this simplification is useless. The theory is that thought has its seat in the brain, emotion has its seat in the heart, energy has its seat in the solar plexus. If you have a bee buzzing in your bonnet, it means your mind is focused too much on your head - shift it. If you are going crazy with some emotion, your whole attention is focused on your heart - shift it. There seems to be a simple method for doing this. In the case of both mental and emotional upheaval, try to see if you can shift your attention to the solar plexus. Then you have withdrawn the energy from the thinking and from the emotion, and you are in contact with the energy center. From there, you are looking at the emotion or the thought. When you are looking at the emotion in this manner, it does not move outside anymore. The emotional disturbance or mental disturbance is checked, and you have acquired some ability to look within yourself. Each one has to do it for himself - one cannot explain it too much.

You will discover that emotion is nothing more than thought of a different intensity of energy, a greater voltage. Thought is made of energy. The brain cells generate a minute electrical charge. That means, prana moves in the brain cells, and they produce this thought. But that is not all; there is a second element to it. In those brain cells are hidden some past impressions. That is what you call memory. When this energy moves among those impressions, something comes up - this is what you call thought. This understanding helps you by revolutionizing your observation. You are no longer caught up in these emotions; you are merely an observer. You see that energy activating brain cells produces thought, energy activating latent impressions produces thought. Thus, you become free of your thoughts and your emotions.

In the Yoga Sutras, a beautiful series of meditation exercises is given. Vitarka vicara nanda 'smita 'nugamat sampra jnatah - in which a kind of path is carved out.

First, vitarka: you allow the mind to indulge in thinking thoughts and counter-thoughts. Then you look directly within to see where thought arises. Can you distinguish that spot where the thought arises? Is there any difference in the source, in the ground of the experiences, of pleasure and pain, of happiness and unhappiness? Are they not all different waves that are the one ocean?

That intelligence which sees this directly, is called vicara. Vicara is not analysis or inquiry. It is when this awareness moves directly within to see that all these thoughts, all these feelings, are of the same substance, whether called pleasant or unpleasant, pleasure or pain, happiness or unhappiness.

The aggregate of all these is what we have so far considered as 'me'. The 'me' is, therefore, the ground of all these. When thus the ground of thoughts, feelings, and experiences is directly seen, there is peace, not unlike the experience of sleep in which, however, there is still this 'I'.

We started by seeing differences in this world, good and evil etc. Then these seem to disappear, because we realize that all these divisions were in 'me', created by 'me'. Finally, there is just 'me' left. But the 'me', so long as it is there, is capable of creating a division. Why do we run after what is called pleasure? Because we have given them a lot of value. Switch off this attraction-repulsion, and the mind naturally moves in one area called 'god'. That is brahmacharya, which means the mind moves in Brahman. But, although the object seems to have gone, the 'I' is still there.

You look at a mountain, and even though the idea that it is a mountain may not arise, there is still the feeling: 'I see ... ' When the eyes are open, there is seeing. What is it that jumps up within you and says: 'I see'?

There is a lovely sutra in the Yoga Sutras which says: "The seen is the seeing." With this realization, there is great delight within you. There, your inquiry ends. Then, Divine Grace steps in. For, the undivided intelligence or cosmic consciousness cannot be realized by the finite, by divided consciousness. 'I' cannot see God. 'I' cannot see the totality.

All this is part of what we call meditation. Meditation is self-discovery. It leads to self-knowledge, which is synonymous with samadhi, enlightenment, freedom, liberation, etc. We readily understand what is meant by knowledge; it is knowledge of another, of an object. But, self is not an object; self-knowledge is not knowledge of another. Hence, self-knowledge poses a big problem. All other knowledge is associated with thought; hence, self-knowledge is said to be free of thought, a direct realization. Self-knowledge is free of interference of the mind; hence, it is declared that it follows control of the mind - though that is an extremely inadequate term.

There is a very big difference between our physical and psychological being. In the case of the body, exercise or work brings on fatigue. In the case of the mind, if it does not do anything, there is fatigue. If you make the mind stop functioning, you will feel as though you are carrying a terribly heavy load, you are so fatigued. So, we should neither stop the mind, nor let the mind flow as it will, but bring it under the control of our intelligence, so that we may be able to observe it. It is possible to vary the technique, vary the method, but not the goal. Instead of sitting upright and meditating, one can walk about and meditate. Instead of inactively and passively sitting in your own meditation room or on the seashore, one can be active and meditating. Instead of outwardly seeming to be in the meditative mood, one can even go into a club or a hotel or a theater, sit and listen to some music, and, at the same time, inwardly be watchful. One can do all sorts of things, if one is sincere.

The whole problem of yoga or meditation is one of sincerity. If you are sincere, you will find some way out. If not, nothing in the world will be of any use. Here, one must use common sense all the time, and modify the method of meditation, to bring it in alignment with life itself, and bring life in alignment with our attempts at meditation. Our daily life and our meditative life should not be in conflict with each other, other wise there is no meditation at all. Everyone must constantly be watchful and alert.

 50. The I-dea of I

Such watchfulness or alertness itself generates virtue and order in one's life. It harmonizes what is initially called the daily secular life, and what is practiced as yoga or meditation. This division of life is also the work of the ego, which pretends to holiness, while clinging to unholiness. All division is ego; and evil and unwisdom flow from the ego.

Commonsense tells us that east and west, above and below, right and left, meet in 'me'. When you stand on the ground, all that lies in one direction is to the east, and all that lies in the other direction is to the west. If you move a mile in the easterly direction, what you previously considered east has joined the west! Is it difficult then to see that you are not only the meeting point, but you are also the dividing factor?

Caught in this trap of 'I am this' or 'I am that', we are not of aware that there is a state of peace of mind, an existence that is unconditioned. Every time we want to get out of one trap, we walk into another trap. This is so, because we have no idea whatsoever that a state beyond all this exists.

In yoga, at the beginning of our practice, it has to be taken for granted that there is a state of consciousness, accessible to all of us, provided we are willing to take the necessary steps, in which there is no confusion, conflict, distress, or disharmony - a state of bliss, joy, and peace, which is reached through yoga, through meditation, through the understanding of the mind and its modifications - citta and vrtti.

When you are not in that state of yoga, then the state of your mind, the thought, and the feelings that prevail in it, determine the world around you. An object does not exist except as the sum total of all the thoughts of all the observers. When all these thoughts and viewpoints, opinions, and descriptions are dropped, the object is what it is, not as an object anymore.

These are words. It is when you become like little children, as Christ enjoined, that you can get an idea of this. Hence, the Bhagavatham declares that the greatest sages are like little children. If you wish to learn to meditate, the only person to teach you is a baby less than six weeks old. When you look into its eyes, you will know what yoga means. There, it is in all its absolute purity, gazing at you, without projecting a single thought of what you are!

Patanjali gives us a three-word phrase about yoga in his Yoga Sutras: yogas citta vrtti nirodhah - yoga is citta, vrtti, nirodha. These three words cannot easily be translated into English.

What is citta? Mind-stuff. This citta throws up countless vrittis (explained later). Something has to be done with these citta vrittis to bring about a condition of yoga. That something is nirodha.

We want to know exactly what citta is, what mind is. Let us say that you have your eyes open, and see something sitting in front of you, and a thought arises in you, 'He is a swami'. Someone else may think, 'He is a man', or 'He is an Indian', or 'He is a nice man', or 'He is not a nice man', and so on. How does all this happen? A totally blind man would not see a swami. What makes you see? Your eyes, the optic nerve, and the particular brain center. But, in the optic nerve brain complex, there is no swami, but merely light waves, vibrations. Where and how are these sensations or vibrations decoded into, 'He is a swami'? The material of which the sensations in their essential nature are made is citta.

All these are words. Citta cannot be grasped by your mind, however brilliant you are. In order to know the citta, you must experience it, here and now. It must be as real as the ant crawling on your back - felt externally, or the headache or anger - experienced internally. Seeing the chair is the perception of a material object. Being aware of the crawling of the ant on the back is a sensation, and the feeling of anger is an emotion. In one or all of these contexts, the citta must become visible to you. You must experience it, here and now. Just as you cannot experience a headache that is not there in you now, you cannot meditate unless there is meditation, you cannot know the citta, unless the citta reveals itself to you. This will happen only when the vrttis make life intolerable, when all your desires and cravings begin to hurt you, and the mind naturally turns upon itself.

Citta can only be experienced when desire naturally drops away. Only when it hurts, will the mind let fall what we have been calling evil - the cravings, the lust, the greed, and the hatred. You do not have to drop them at all. When you have developed sensitivity within yourself, then, without any outside persuasion, the mind is ready to let them drop. Then the citta is seen, is experienced. That is called meditation. Meditation is coming face to face with citta. In that state of yoga, there is an inner understanding of the vrttis and the citta. Such understanding is nirodha.

Nirodha cannot be adequately translated. You look at the ocean, and you look at the waves. Now there seems to be within you a notion that the waves are something apart, something which come into being, which seem to exist, and dissolve in the Ocean. You are creating a distinction, a division that is untrue, false. I am not suggesting that the wave is false, but the division that thought creates between the wave and the ocean is false. An enlightened person looks at the same ocean, and he has the same vision; but, in that vision there is no division. There is direct experience without the division created by the thought 'the wave has come out of the ocean'. Nirodha is the abolition of the non-existent division. The distinction between the wave and the ocean is only an idea. Let that disappear. Its disappearance is called nirodha.

Similarly, you have various ideas concerning the world and the objects around you. You need not suppress your thoughts, or express your thoughts; you need not run away from the world, or get drowned in it; you need not wipe the world out of your vision - but you should directly see the truth, and abandon the idea that you have concerning this truth.

In reality, the citta is undivided, indivisible. Not only indivisible in the sense that there is no distinction between subconscious, conscious, and superconscious, in what is called the 'me', but in the sense that consciousness is cosmic all the time. Cosmic consciousness is indivisible. There is no such thing as my consciousness as distinct from your consciousness. The citta is really not restricted to the individual body.

If you compare citta to an ocean, each individual is just a ripple, a wave, in that ocean. Having continually identified yourself with one ripple, you consider yourself a limited individual - and you think that that individual is the whole. This individuation is what has brought about trouble, and it is the identification with the vrtti that has caused the individuation.

You can probably study these vrttis more closely and thoroughly within yourself. But, one must never make the mistake of considering the cosmic intelligence to be limited to the individual. It is universal. Yet, it is easily accessible to each one within himself, within what he has come to regard as his self.

If you observe your own citta, you realize that vrittis - thought-waves, ideas - arise in it constantly, in that part of the citta where the attention is focused. Some of these thoughts or ideas are considered pleasant, and others unpleasant. The pleasant are pleasant because you like them - and of course you like them because they are pleasant; and the unpleasant are unpleasant because you dislike them - and of course you dislike them because they are unpleasant. Regardless of whether they are considered pleasant or unpleasant, good or evil, ugly or beautiful, they are all thoughts and ideas, vrttis.

The observing intelligence is obscured by these vrttis; and then there is the notion of an observer, the self, or the ego.

What yoga philosophy suggests, if one studies it without preconceived notions and prejudices, is this. When you observe the ego, it is possible that you discover that the ego is not an entity, like a table or a tape-recorder. The ego is more like an assembly, in the sense that Buddha used that word. What you call consciousness, the self, is nothing but an assembly of past impressions and experiences. Buddha did not deny the existence of the world and its objects.

A great Buddhist used the example of the bullock cart. He asked a disciple, "What do you see there?", as a cart drawn by bullocks passed. "A bullock cart." "What are those two circular things?" "Wheels." "Burn them." "Now what is sticking out there?" "The axle." "Throw it away." Then the body was discarded, then the yoke. "Where is the cart now?" If all the different parts that have their own name and individuality, have been dismantled, where and what exactly is the cart? If you put all these separate parts into a scrap heap, they would not make a cart. The cart is an idea. Even before the assembly of the parts, the idea of the cart was there, and it persists.

The ego, the 'I', is nothing but an idea, a vrtti. As an idea, 'I' exists, but not as an independent entity, capable of producing its own ideas. One must observe all this. As you observe for instance, seeing, you note that seeing takes place. Who sees? The eyes see. While seeing happens, from somewhere, for no apparent reason, the idea arises, "I am seeing."

Patanjali gives us a very beautiful sutra in which there is a description of what is the ultimate in yoga. Translated literally, it reads: 'Then the seer rests in himself.' When you are not in that state of yoga, you identify yourself with a million thought waves or modifications of the mind. But, 'in a state of yoga, the seer rests in himself.' What does the seer signify? Later in the text, we get an inspiring statement. "What one calls the seer, is only seeing." Why must you invent a thing known as 'I' which sees? When the eyes are open, they see. You have a beautiful expression in English, viz. 'sight-seeing tours.' The sight is what sees! Who sees the scenery? Sight sees. What you call the seer, is nothing but the action, the event of seeing. All our yoga practices lead us to this realization that seeing is not the doing of 'I', but a happening.

In exactly the same way, all of life can be lived. Sight sees, action takes place, everything in this world happens. Somehow, somewhere, we have been conditioned by the idea that, without this vanity, this ego, without a goal to reach and hold on to, we shall not progress, but our lives would be a failure. There is only one failure, the failure to do, not the failure to achieve. Success is always there. To succeed is 'to come after'. When one does anything, success follows. It is when you do not do what should be done there is failure.

Once you see the whole picture, action is spontaneous. The finite thing - I, you, he - does not exist in reality. It is only when you are not really spiritually awake that there is this division and confusion. Once the awakening has taken place, it stays alert until you discover the reality, and it swallows the 'I'.

As we have seen, citta is indivisible cosmic consciousness or intelligence, and the vrttis are ideas which may be knowledge, wrong understanding, imagination, memory, or sleep. These are all universal - wherever there is ocean, there are waves, wherever there is citta there are vrittis. It seems to be clear, but when you view the ocean as one indivisible entity, there are no waves apart from it. The whole thing, with all the waves, is the ocean.

Similarly, in the physical body, there are millions of cells sparking off, all sorts of streams flowing from the heart to the parts of the body and back again, there is tremendous activity; yet, because the organism is the activity, and there is no division, it is unaware of it. A body approaching fire is burned; but if you are the burning fire, you will not be burned at all. You are the burner, not the burned. Somehow, this fact that 'I am that' has been forgotten.

We ask, "Why should that cosmic intelligence forget that it is cosmic and create a diversity, change, or a becoming?" Why should this great universal being become anything? No one can answer. One can only, bluntly, frankly, and honestly, say, "Sorry, I do not know."

Somehow, mysteriously there is what philosophers call maya or avidya - translated as ignorance, which merely means, "I have no idea." But the question still remains as to how there can be ignorance in cosmic intelligence. This question is unanswerable. The same question comes round in countless different ways for us.

The body of everyone is made of the same substance. For, all of us, food, comes from the same source, the earth. Prana, the life force, is cosmic. We are all breathing the same air. We all have the same intelligence within us. It cannot be divided. Yet, when someone calls you a fool, you become angry. But, when you say, "My hand is dirty", the hand does not strike the tongue for this remark. Yet, this is what we do to one another. Somebody insults you, and at once you want to retaliate. We eat the same food; but each one wants to destroy the other, because "I feel that I am different from him."

How does this happen? We have missed two steps: we have forgotten that we are all one. And, when this is forgotten, there is a peculiar polarization - 'I' and 'the other'. Neither cosmic intelligence nor cosmic ignorance - avidya - creates the concept, the idea of you and me. It is in the shadow of avidya that the 'I' arises; and this 'I' creates 'you' and 'the other'.

Perhaps, the first person pronoun 'I' is nothing but the abbreviation of the full word 'idea'. The 'I' may itself be nothing more than an idea. However, as soon as this idea arises, it creates you, the other person, then he, she, and it.

The problem of our world is that the human being, the individual, each 'I', becomes the center of the universe as soon as the ego-sense arises. Why do two individuals fight? Because each one assumes that he is the center, and that everything must somehow be related to his pleasure, to his will. This self-limited cosmic being, which is the individual personality, then goes on building relationships. It is all ignorance. The child and the grandchild of ignorance can only be ignorance, just as all offspring of man can only be human. So, everything which manifests within this cosmic being or cosmic consciousness is born of ignorance. The self-limited infinite, which is called the individual, looks around, feels, registers, and reacts. Fear, contempt, like, dislike, attraction, repulsion, approval, disapproval - all these spring from the ignorant self-limitation that is called ego.

Once the idea of 'I' is there, it becomes the center of the entire universe. Who determines what is East and what is West? The deciding factor is where you stand at the moment. You lay down the law, as a nation or as a culture. It depends on where you stand physically, psychologically, morally, or spiritually. 'We' declare this to be good and that to be bad, that is pleasant and this is not pleasant. The center of creation is always 'I' and collectively 'we'.

From this 'I' comes raga - attraction, approval or liking, and dvesa - repulsion, rejection or dislike. Raga is better translated as 'approval', and dvesa as 'disapproval'. If someone gently scratches your back, you approve of him; but if he twists your arm, you disapprove of him. This is so because you see yourself as the center of the universe.

There is one more category, which the wise, keenly observant mind of the author of the Yoga Sutras recognized - a man clinging to one's physical life - or I would like to regard this as 'hope'. This clinging to life that is known to be temporary, which is found even amongst the wisest, absurd, though it seems is a trend away from the center, away from the cosmic intelligence. This trend is manifest in our lives as 'hope' - hope which is always related to the nonexistent future, hope of even an after-life, heaven, and so on.

How does one get over all this? How can one restrain all these innumerable thought-waves or ideas or notions with which one identifies oneself, because of one's original identification with one idea, the 'I'-dea? How does one return to the source, the truth, the reality of one indivisible consciousness?

Patanjali says that the answer is abhyasa and vairagya. Abhyasa means 'to be established in it'. All effort directed towards remaining established in the truth is abhyasa. So, abhyasa means, in one word, practice. The sutra concerning vairagya is somewhat complicated. It refers to objects seen and heard; longing for them is raga, and the cessation of such longing is vairagya. There is vairagya when the craving is turned upon itself - when there is intense craving, only to know 'what the craving is', as soon as it arises.

Although I have described abhyasa and vairagya as two separate steps, they really go together. They are two sides of the same coin. A holy man gave a remarkably simple definition of the two words abhyasa and vairagya. "To know that cosmic consciousness alone is true, is abhyasa; not to allow an idea of diversity ever to arise, is vairagya." Yoga does not restrict you to a set of practices; whatever enables you to be established in this cosmic consciousness, is abhyasa, provided you persist in that practice. Abhyasa requires the integration of your entire life. This is similar to the Hassidic teaching, that one's whole life should be offered to God, given a God-ward direction. If that is not there, then there is no abhyasa, no practice.

Abhyasa has to be combined with vairagya. What is called vairagya, is extremely difficult to define, because all the definitions pre-suppose the opposite. Detachment implies having been attached. Vairagya is not that. It is not dislike, or indifference. It is not aversion, or infatuation. If, during yoga practice, there is a soft towel under you, the back of the neck 'likes' it. If there is a rough mat, the neck does not 'like' it. This approval or disapproval belongs not to 'me', but to the body. The skin responds positively to a pleasant sea breeze, and negatively to ice cold wind or desert heat. That is understandable, natural. But, when you say, "I love him", or "I hate him", that is not natural. It does not exist in nature, but is a perversion of nature.

When you begin to see this, then your heart, mind, or consciousness, does not register the causative factors of raga-dvesa, whatever caused the attraction or aversion. That state in which your consciousness does not register these causes at all is vairagya. There is no more registration of experiences. Let life flow on. The sensations, the body, the life-force, approve of certain things, and disapprove of others. Let your consciousness not be tainted by this. If your finger intentionally or unintentionally pokes your eye, there is no accusation, because the finger and the eye belong to the same organism. There is no aversion, no hatred against the finger. When the hand drives away a mosquito sitting on the cheek, there is no special love relation between the hand and the cheek as a result. These things go on naturally. The inner consciousness is not modified at all by these experiences. There is no judging, no condemnation, and therefore, no need to forgive and forget.

How does one overcome the mad clinging to life, the desire to live - hope? Krishna expands this idea in the Gita. The first need is to perceive immediately that all life is tainted by old age, sickness, and death. This does not mean that one should not eat or marry and stop doing this or that. But when this immediate, direct, perception is there constantly, then one's consciousness is not influenced by those experiences called pleasure and pain. It no longer runs after pleasure, because it knows that it is temporary, not real. It will not masochistically look for pain. Pain and pleasure are inherent in life - there is no need to search for some more. When all desires re-enter oneself, return to the source, there is true vairagya, true dispassion - the total opposite of passion and craving.

The teaching of Patanjali points out that there is this cosmic being, cosmic oneness, cosmic harmony, cosmic consciousness, which has been mysteriously ruptured, fractured, by ego-sense. The ego-sense says, "This is I", therefore "That is you". From this division flows an interminable stream of worry, anxiety, fear, and hate. How does one put an end to this? By realizing that you are the stream. The moment you realize that, the menace has ceased. The 'I am anxious' duality creates a distinction between 'I' and the anxiety. If you know that "I am anxiety", anxiety no longer haunts you. You are it, and there is no more struggle. The anxiety, as anxiety, falls away.

A very holy man pointed out, "Fear is the first product of duality. The realization of non-duality, is yoga." But, you cannot create harmony, bring about unity, or non-duality; there is no need, no possibility of this. It is already there. But, what you can and must do, is observe how and where this oneness has been disrupted. If one sincerely and seriously carries out this observation, then it does not take a split second to realize that the break happens the moment the 'I' thought arises. The moment the feeling "I am this" comes up, that thought, the vrtti, mental modification creates the 'you', and there is conflict.

Meditation is the direct observation of the arising of the 'I', the ego, without a mediator. A mediator is merely another distraction. Even words, descriptions of meditation, may be disastrous. Meditation is observation without descriptions of any type that will give you an image of what it 'should be'. What you practice while you are seated in a meditation posture is meant as a help. But, even while talking, eating, looking at, or doing anything, one should watch the arising of the 'I'. This questioning is to be done continuously, not only in the morning and evening. If we continually observe the arising of the ego-sense during our waking hours, whatever we are doing, then even while dreaming there is the inquiry, "Who is dreaming, to whom is the dream occurring?" So, eventually, even while one sleeps, there is this continuing self-consciousness. This continuous awareness which runs through all states of consciousness is called samadhi, the fourth state of consciousness.

But, all these words are useless for us. So, we are given exercises to lead us on to the discovery of the ego. When one is able to see where the 'I' thought comes from, one immediately realizes, "Ah, this is the mischief-maker, this is the villain that has brought about a division, disrupted the harmony that in fact exists all the time." You observe where this fracture has occurred. You see that it is the 'I' that creates this disruption of harmony, and as soon as the 'I' consciousness yields its place and reveals that it is merely a shadow, there is realization of oneness.

 51. The Eight Limbs of Yoga

'I' makes the division, 'I' makes the disorder, and thus 'I' is responsible for evil in this world. To preserve all this, and yet to strive for meditation, or to pretend to meditate, is self-deception.

How does one get rid of this disorder, this evil, and this sinful nature? Bhagavan Ramana Maharishi advocated the method of inquiry to trace all these evils to their single source - the ego - which when investigated further in what is known as vicara, proves to be unreal. A devotee once asked him, "This method seems to be quicker than the usual one of cultivating qualities alleged necessary for salvation." Ramana answered: "Yes, all bad qualities center round the ego. When the ego is gone, realization results by itself. There are neither good nor bad qualities in the self. The self is free from all qualities. Qualities pertain to the mind only."

The nature of life in which there is order, and in which there is not the division of the ego-sense, has been mapped out and charted in the yoga text of Maharishi Patanjali under the headings 'yama' and 'niyama'.

Yama

Yama is five fold:

1. Non-violence - ahimsa;

2. Adherence to truth - satyam;

3. Non-stealing - asteyam;

4. Continence - brahmacaryaram;

5. Non-coveting - aparigraham.

Swami Sivananda emphatically declares that ahimsa means positive love towards all beings. But, we should not mistake this divine love for the manifestation of lust, with which this sublime emotion of love is universally confused. Hence, Patanjali's cautious negative description. This love is not infatuation, attachment, or lust; it is pure and divine, selfless, cosmic, and self-sacrificing. This is a great truth which should not be forgotten.

Satyam or truthfulness has elsewhere been defined as that which is at the same time pleasant and beneficial. Our speech should be truthful, pleasant, and beneficial. Where these three criteria are not fulfilled, we should be silent.

Why has asteyam - non-stealing been given a place of prominence among these great canons? The secret is revealed in the universal scripture, the Bhagavad Gita. Lord Krishna calls him a thief who appropriates to himself all the gifts of the gods, without sharing them with others. My master lays the greatest emphasis on this: "Give, give, give. Share what you have with others," is His clarion call. That is what is alluded to by the word 'non-stealing' here.

Brahmacarya is generally translated 'continence' in connection with yama. Let us turn to Bhagavan Ramana Maharishi. A devotee asked him, "Is not brahmacarya - celibacy necessary for the realization of the self?", and the Maharishi replied, "Brahmacarya is 'living in Brahman'. It has no connection with celibacy as commonly understood. A real brahmachari - that is one who lives in Brahman - finds bliss in the Brahman, which is the same as the self. Why then should you look for other sources of happiness? In fact, the emergence from the self has been the cause of all the misery." To a further question, "Can a married man realize the self?", the Maharishi replied, "Certainly, it is a matter of fitness of mind." Surely, then, continence should happen as a consequence of 'living in Brahman' or the consciousness flowing in a single stream towards the self; forced restraint is force, and not restraint, and besides negating the definition of brahmacarya, violates ahimsa, too! However, when it naturally happens, it makes available a great source of creative energy.

Aparigraha, or non-acceptance of what belongs to others, saves us from our own greediness. It acts as a curb on desires. It generates contentment, the axle which cuts at the root of a sense of want, the enslaving lust for material possessions, which only oppress us by their weight, and pin us down to this earth.

Niyama

Let us proceed to the next limb: Niyama.

They are rules of conduct that govern our daily life.

Niyama is fivefold, too:

1. Cleanliness - sauca;

2. Contentment - santosa;

3. Austerity - tapas;

4. Study - svadhyaya;

5. Devotion to God - isvarapranidhana.

All-round cleanliness is indicated by sauca. Cleanliness of the surroundings, of the clothes, of the body, and of the mind and the heart. 'Cleanliness is next to godliness' is an accepted maxim. The prayerful devotee and the practitioner of yoga know that the mind tends to be pure and powerful in a clean body, in clean surroundings.

Santosa is contentment, cheerfulness, acceptance of what falls to our lot, without wry-faced grumbling. This enables us to be in a positive frame of mind, always up and doing, striving to steady the mind, free from distracting thoughts and desires, and their opposite counter-thoughts and frustrations.

Tapas or austerity is the twin sister of contentment. These two together bring about simple living and high thinking. "Simplify your life; purify your heart; intensify your sadhana and meditation," are Swami Sivananda's teachings. We cannot serve god and mammon at the same time. If we multiply our wants, suffer from luxury, our mind will be where our heart is - in our earthly possessions - and it will be almost impossible to practice concentration and meditation. An austere and simple life is indispensable for yoga. In the Bhagavad Gita Krishna has given a revolutionary definition of tapas. He calls for strict discipline of thought, word and deed. The aim is to awaken us from the earth-earthliness, and to inspire us to keep the ideal of yoga always before us.

Then comes svadhyaya, or study of scriptures, whose place in spiritual life cannot be over-emphasized. Scriptures and the words of our own preceptor - or the guru - are the two eyes with which alone we can see our way.

Finally isvarapranidhana, or devotion to god, without whose grace no spiritual progress is possible. It is when we recognize this truth, and surrender our finite little ego to him in prayerful devotion, that this subtle veil is removed, and we are enabled to perceive the divinity that we are in truth.

My master Swami Sivananda does not want us to wait until we are established in these virtues before attempting the advanced yoga practices. He asks us to strive to concentrate and meditate, at the same time endeavoring to cultivate these virtues. The destination is brought nearer our reach.

Asana

The third limb is asana - a steady and comfortable posture in which we can sit for a considerable time - a posture which enables us to forget the body without lulling us to sleep. Students of yoga all over the world have found padmasana to be the best. Patanjali says that, when you are able to sit steadily in this posture in a meditative mood, you 'overcome duality'. This is usually interpreted to mean pain and pleasure etc., but it may also indicate the overcoming of the sense of duality, which is possible only if the ego-sense ceases. The cessation of the ego-sense is the central issue.

Pranayama

After the body has thus been brought under control, we proceed to the next step. We have already seen that there is an intimate relation between the breath and the mind. When we are deeply thinking, when the mind is automatically concentrated, our breathing is slow, rhythmic and steady. When we suffer from that temporary madness of anger or lust, when our mind is agitated, we breathe hard, fast and haphazardly. Patanjali, therefore, prescribes control of breath or pranayama as the next step. Seated in padmasana, we try to regulate the breath - inhalation, retention, and exhalation. Do not forget the all-important criterion - slow, rhythmic, deep, graceful, and steady breathing.

Mantra

Even as this is being done, we shall not fail to notice that the turbulent mind has become tame. There is an experience of peace, a foretaste of the transcendental experience, which awaits us. We are ready to take the fifth step. Krishna asks us in the Gita to withdraw our senses from their objects, just as a tortoise withdraws its limbs into the shell. Our devotion to a personal deity helps us here. With closed eyes, we perceive Him within us. Swami Sivananda exhorts us to repeat the mantra - our ears listen to this inner 'sound'. The senses are thus withdrawn from their contact with the external world. The mind longs to taste the peace and the bliss that await it in the inner realm. When the senses are turned inward, it is as if a million flash-lights are focused into yourself. The light is brilliant. You are no longer interested in what goes on outside, but you are tremendously interested in what goes on inside. This is pratyahara.

Dharana

If we have succeeded in all these, we shall find the next one - the sixth limb - very easy. Dharana or concentration will be almost effortless, and effective. The mind of the common man knows only three states: it can either yield to a thousand distractions and roam about in the outer world - the waking state, or the inner world - the dream state, or it can succumb to inertia and ignorance - the deep-sleep state. The diligent practice of yama and niyama curb distractions. Asana and pranayama drive away inertia. Now we are ready to experience the fourth or superconscious state. The rays of the mind are focused on itself. When they are passed through the lens of concentration - dharana, they burn the ignorance that covers the self or god-head in us. Dharana is defined by Patanjali as focusing the mind within. This is not because the omnipresent god is only within us, but because the omnipresence is realized most easily as the indwelling presence. A dissipated mind is unfit for this realization.

Dhyana

By the Grace of God, we enter His presence, the kingdom of God within us. We roam that kingdom. We partake of the 'peace that passeth understanding', and the bliss that is perennial and unbroken. We drink at the fountain of immortality. This is dhyana or meditation, the seventh limb of yoga.

Samadhi

In the Light Divine, the little 'I' vanishes. In total self-forgetfulness, we commune with the Lord. The salt doll tries to measure the depth of the ocean - it gets dissolved. But, it is the ocean of bliss in which we get so dissolved. This is samadhi, the eighth limb. We have successfully cut ourselves away from the trammels of this world of pain and death. The cords of ignorance and egoism, that bound us to the relentless wheel of transmigration, have been broken. The vicious octopus - ego-sense - which, with its tentacles of the pairs of opposites - like and dislikes, pain and pleasure, honor and dishonor, success and failure - was strangling us, is dead. This is known as kaivalya. This is the goal. The yogi who has reached the goal, is once and for all liberated from sorrow; he swims in the ocean of bliss, he drinks at the fountain of peace and immortality.

It is important to understand both samadhi and kaivalya correctly. When, during meditation, That alone is - in other words, when the meditator has ceased to be a spectator and the truth or the consciousness alone exists - it is samadhi. It is the 'I' that creates the duality in all this, even up to the division of the meditator and meditation. In samadhi, even this distinction disappears. Meditation, which is non-different from consciousness, alone is. The ego-sense, which is non-different from it, is now really so, having abandoned its unreal duality. That alone - all-one - is. That is kaivalya.

The path is strewn with psychic powers. Dharanadhyana-samadhi - together called samyama - can be applied to various objects of phenomena. The concentrated beam of light can be focused on anything, and that thing will reveal its true nature to us. But, these powers are distractions and obstacles. The yogi should not be misled or waylaid by the spiritual bandits that these psychic powers are. With intense and unabated zeal, intense application and adamantine will, he should proceed direct to the goal, which is the realization of cosmic consciousness or the indivisible intelligence. Merely visualizing the divine presence, and visualizing oneself as being a cell in the cosmic body of god, is not samadhi; it is visualization. If this visualization is intense, it can appear to be and to materialize. That is not self-realization.

 

Control of the senses and mind is the indispensable pre-requisite to successful meditation. Exciting and animal food, intoxicating drinks and drugs, amusements and pastimes, that divert and distract the mind, are all obstacles to be avoided.

Progress in meditation is rapid if you lead a well-regulated life, and practice what my master called the yoga of synthesis. In your own daily life, combine hatha yoga, bhakti yoga, karma yoga, raja yoga, and jnana yoga. You will have integral development. Without God's and Guru's Grace, you cannot enter into deep meditation. Therefore, never give up japa, and worship, and devotion to and service of the guru. Maintain good health through the regular practice of some yoga asanas and pranayama. Selflessness in all your activities is a touchstone of progress in meditation. If you experience the presence of god in all, you will naturally be filled with love and compassion for all.

Patanjali, in his Yoga Sutras, and Krishna, in the Bhagavad Gita, prescribe two remedies for the waywardness of the mind:

1. persistent practice, and

2. giving up those pleasures and evil habits which show up during the meditation practice, and which thus disturb the mind. Regularity, which is absolutely essential, will establish the habit.

 

If you forget why you are practicing yoga, it is possible to amplify this abhyasa - practice, and vairagya - dispassion or uncoloredness - into a thousand divisions and sub-divisions, a thousand rules and their exceptions and amendments. If, however, you never lose sight of the main issue - the realization of undivided consciousness, then abhyasa can only mean being firmly established in the state of non-division; and vairagya, which is its necessary correlate, is the prevention of the consciousness being colored by the awareness of objectivity.

 

All these eight limbs of Astanga yoga have to be practiced from day to day, from moment to moment. The whole of life must be meditation, one continuous self-observation. One who does this, is a yogi. One who does this, is free from the painful effect of the ego-sense. He may still use the word 'I'. He will still eat, work, and live - but without ego-sense.

Yoga is that state in which there is no conflict, no anxiety, no fear, no false, 'I'-'you' relationship, no approval, no disapproval. That supreme state of bliss and peace, while yet still living, is what is meant by yoga.

Yoga welcomes you to test its doctrines in your own inner laboratory, and taste the delicious fruits it offers you.

 52. Why Meditate?

The basic problem in the world today seems to be that there is no interest in meditation as such. It is partly the fault of people who preach and do propaganda for meditation. When you want to spread the practice of meditation, and encourage people to take it up, you persuade them that there is some benefit in it. In order to do that, the preachers suggest, 'Practice meditation. You will be completely free of all tension.' The moment that aspect enters the field of meditation, the whole practice is ruined. From there on, you are not sitting completely relaxed, meditating, but you are tense, looking at the state of relaxation which the preacher suggested was your goal. Trying to reach out to it, you become more tense.

The moment you introduce a goal to meditation, it is gone. Happiness in life comes not by manipulating what you want to achieve, but by paying attention to something seemingly totally unconnected with it. In order to make the mouth laugh, you tickle the foot. This seems to be of fundamental importance. Concentration of mind is not achieved by concentrating the mind, but by going right round, doing something completely different. That is actually what the great masters of yoga suggested when they said to sit down and repeat your mantra.

The problem is that our minds are in a terrible state of disorder, our attention is not steady at all. Physically, we are tense; mentally, we are distracted. We go to a teacher and he says, "Sit down, and repeat a mantra." While you pay attention to the mantra, which is totally unrelated and unconnected with the problem, you are really trying to solve the problem. You don't have to solve the problem, the problem can be dissolved. That is much simpler; otherwise, when you have a problem, and someone tells you to solve it, the solution becomes another problem! The confused brain creating another solution, is in worse confusion. The mind, after all, is one thing, not a supermarket. You are happy sometimes, and you are unhappy sometimes. When you are unhappy, what happens to that happy person? And when you are happy, what happens to the unhappy person? Are you one or two? It is not difficult for you to see that you are one thing.

The mind is one substance which seems to assume several successively different disguises. It is not possible for the mind to be in two moods at the same time; and, even when one is able to juggle the moods quickly, it only means that the mind is able to change very fast.

There is no more mystification about meditation than this. The master, by suggesting that you sit down and go on repeating a mantra, has made you temporarily forget your problem. A problem that is forgotten does not exist; unhappiness that is forgotten, is happiness. It can come back again, but never mind. If you have been unhappy for 6 or 7 hours at a stretch, you have at least had 20 minutes of happiness. That is marvelous; the unhappiness was a mental state, nothing more than a mood.

In real life, we see quite plainly that, if an external situation was responsible for one's unhappiness, that situation is not going to be changed by being unhappy. Therefore, the yogi said, "Free yourself from this external compulsion, and realize that unhappiness is a mental mood." The mind substance is still there, it has temporarily assumed the form of unhappiness, the character of unhappiness. You can be sure that, even if you are in the worst of all moods now, the sun is not going to be veiled because of you; it will still shine brilliantly. And, if you shake off your bad mood, and get into the sun, it is to your advantage. You have been unhappy before, you may be unhappy later - 'so what'! All the problems are there waiting outside - let them! For the next half hour, sit down and say your mantra; and, as you go on in this way, suddenly you discover that the unhappiness is not there any more. Suddenly you realize that you - or something in you - is totally independent of the happiness or unhappiness that the environment imposes upon you. Coming out of your meditation room, you are able to say 'so what', right in front of the unhappiness that faces you again.

So, it is possible to free yourself psychologically from external compulsion, external imposition. Sitting there in that room for half an hour, you have tasted it. The mind, being of one substance, was fed with this mantra, or something totally unconnected with all worries and anxieties, happiness, and unhappiness.

You have not been struggling, you have not been praying to God to please take this problem away. That is useless - another one will come. But, in the meantime, you have discovered that it is possible for you, without changing the external environment, to be happy within yourself. You taste it. The most important thing in meditation is not to try to solve the outside problem, but to taste the present mood of peace and joy and happiness that is flowing inside. Then, when you come out, you are able to face this problem.

I am not saying the problems we are surrounded by can ever be removed; but, the inner attitude can be radically and instantly changed. It doesn't even take half an hour. Meditation makes this possible by not dealing with the problem head on, but by turning the attention to something completely different - which happens to be beyond the source of all problems. This is not a policy of escapism. Let us take a very simple example of inter-personal conflict. You and he are working in the same organization. You are saying something, he is saying something different; you have a little misunderstanding, a quarrel. He is too strong and powerful; so, you don't want to fight with him. You go into your meditation room, sit and repeat the mantra. After a short while, everything is at peace within yourself - there is harmony and joy within you. Are you escaping? No, because you have got to come out and meet him, again. Then you are a completely changed person, you realize that conflict can be ended by ending it within yourself. There is a lovely expression: "You cannot clap with one hand. It needs two to make a quarrel." But, I feel: "It needs only one to make a quarrel - me".

The yogi's approach through meditation deals with the fundamental problem of human response. Once you have trained yourself in this technique - you can call it meditation or concentration - then it is possible for this to happen throughout the day, when there is need for you to respond. And, though superficially it looks as if you are self-centered and selfish, you are not, because you have found the key to dissolving the problems and conflicts. That, I think, is the greatest contribution one can make to human happiness in society as a whole.

Half the problem connected with meditation springs from thinking about it. The thoughts that one may have about meditation are not meditation. It is possible to think about it, it is possible to talk about it, and it is even possible to 'do' it; but, none of these is meditation. Like sleep, it is something that has to happen, and one does not know when it is happening, but realizes something has happened in retrospect. What is it that puts an end to sleep? What is it that puts an end to meditation? Strangely enough, the desire to experience it.

We are trapped in a strange and delightful problem. We need to meditate, but we cannot will ourselves into meditation. Meditation is vitally important, not only to some of you who might be spiritual seekers, but also to people who want to become more alert in mind and in intellect, and even to people who pursue material goals. If meditation is a state in which there is no mental confusion, there is inner harmony and peace, then it is of vital importance to everybody. Whatever be your aspirations, whatever you are looking for - whether spiritual, intellectual, mental or material - one who knows what it is to meditate, or what it is to surrender oneself to meditation, realizes that the key to any achievement is there. But, fortunately or unfortunately, it is not possible to force it.

It is extremely fortunate that meditation cannot be made to happen, for the simple reason that if it could, it is liable to be marketed as we already see is being done, and what is even worse, it can be mis-used and abused. It is unfortunate, because, though we aspire for the state called meditation, it seems to elude us, and we are still groping. A few broad hints may be given; but, even these are like preparing the bed as an invitation to sleep. You cannot 'go to sleep'. It is an expression as inadequate and erroneous as all expressions are. Sleep has to come - you can only go to bed.

 53. How to Meditate

So many textbooks are available on meditation nowadays, that everyone has some idea of what it is all about. In brief, meditation is the most wonderful adventure - 'discovery of self'. Meditation enables us to enjoy consciously the peace, happiness, and revitalization that we unconsciously have in sleep. Meditation lifts us above the cares and anxieties of our daily life; it enables us to overcome our moral weaknesses and evil habits, and thus transform our very life. By dispelling ignorance, meditation removes all our morbid and childish fears, and leads us to the hall of divine light, where we perceive our self as the immortal essence of all existence, where we realize that we are at once linked in a bond of eternal love with all creation. By enabling us to get in tune with this cosmic substratum, and so with others, meditation gives us supernatural powers. Unless these powers - of whose existence we are not conscious and which we shall not deliberately use - become natural to us, they should be shunned as distractions.

 

'An ounce of practice is better than tons of theory'.

The following simple procedure will, in due course, enable you to enjoy deep meditation

1. Select a calm, quiet, clean, and secluded spot, or a room or corner of a room in your house reserved for this purpose. Sit there - preferably facing east - the run rises in the east - or north - there is a great power in the north pole - with a symbol of God or a lighted lamp or candle, placed at eye-level. The best posture is, of course, the lotus posture; if you cannot do this, sit in any comfortable posture with your body erect, as for the pranayama exercise discussed earlier. The yogi wants you to keep the back straight. All sorts of interesting reasons have been given, and one might be of interest to you. If the small of the back is held in, your back is naturally straighter than before. It seems to promote alertness of the mind. The moment you slouch, and the small of the back shoots backwards and the spine curves forward, your alertness is gone. The best time to meditate is from 4 to 6 a.m.; but if this is not possible, do this as soon as you wake up. It is good to have a quick bath; if this is not possible, without loss of the good morning hour, have a quick wash of hands, feet, and face.

2. Chant a few hymns, or offer your own prayer - audibly - to the lord; this is like switching the radio on, and tuning it. Raise the mind to a higher level. Imagine you are in the presence of God. This may appear to be self-hypnotism, but the results are astounding.

3. Become aware that you are seated in your room or wherever it is. You are now aware of even your body's contact with the seat. The knowledge 'I am sitting here' ensures that the mind is also here, and does not wander away. If the attention tends to wander, gently but firmly bring it back - 'I am sitting here.' Become aware of the sensation of the hands resting on your knees or in your lap. Immediately the attention is brought within the body and, once the attention is narrowed down, the whole inside seems to be illuminated. You realize that just one thing is happening - breathing. You are breathing.

4. Chant 'om' deeply, concentrating on the solar plexus, feeling that the sound vibrations arise from there. Feel that these sound vibrations travel upwards towards the crown of the head, through the vagus nerve. They actually will. When they reach the throat-region, close your lips and continue 'ommmmmmm', and let the sound fade out at the crown of the head. Do this three or six times.

5. It is one of those ironies of life that we seem to be interested in so many wonderful things in this world, without paying the least attention to the greatest wonder - breathing. It is because we are breathing that we are alive, that we are able to enjoy life. It is a supreme wonder. Ask yourself: "What makes you breathe out and having exhaled - what makes you inhale again?" What makes one take the next breath, or in other words, how does the breathing go on? When you pay attention to this, you have forgotten where you are sitting. That is, the attention has gone still deeper within yourself, and is now ready to go even deeper down. Breathe normally, effortlessly. At the same time, close the glottis a little bit, so that the breath itself produces some sound. It is not the vocal cords, but the glottis that helps to produce this sound. Let this sound also fade away, and not stop abruptly. You will find that your mind follows this sound and 'goes inwards.' You may do ujjayi or bhramari pranayama.

6. Breathe gently now. Watch the breath. Try to listen to it, without producing any sound even with the throat. It is good to use a visualization of the nadis in conjunction with the breathing, to bring about more intense concentration of the mind. Visualize the inhaled breath flowing down the ida and the pingala nadis on both sides of the spine. Hold the breath - kumbhaka - for just a moment. Kumbhaka literally means 'pot-like', which alludes to the abdominal cavity being filled by the inhaled breath. Visualize the exhaled breath ascending up the susumna - the central channel, at the same time drawing the abdomen in and up, as in uddiyana bandha.

7. Now, the only thing you are doing is breathing. That is the only action, motion, movement. Become aware of this. Let there be the inner awareness, "I am breathing," and let this stop the mind from doing something else. Gently but firmly hold on to the awareness, "I am breathing".

8. Repeat your mantra - any name of god or sacred formula or 'om' - as you breathe in and out, without straining the breath. Associate the mantra with the breath - this is the trick. Repeat it once while you breathe in, and once while you breathe out. If the mantra is long, repeat half while inhaling, and the other half while exhaling, without breaking it. Without tension, you gently but actively keep listening to the mantra being heard within yourself. Become more and more deeply aware of this sound. Listen to it with all your heart, with all your attention.

9. Keep looking at the picture, symbol, or the flame, in front of you - that is what you have been doing all the time, at least from step 5 above - but transfer that symbol to within yourself. Feel that the image is in your own heart. See it there. Do not stare at the picture or flame in front; if you do, then your eyes will get tired and begin to smart. If you merely look without staring or focusing, you will find that the symbol goes out of focus. Do not worry. Your eyes will not blink. They will not water or smart.

10. Now, close your eyes if you like, and visualize that image of god clearly within your heart. Let it be radiant and living. If the mind tends to wander, keep the eyes open, looking within.

11. Gradually let that image expand till it occupies your whole body, the room in which you are sitting and eventually the whole world. Feel this. Feel that you yourself are just a little part of god, one with him.

12. Sit like this for a minimum period of 20 minutes. The preliminaries may take about 10 minutes. Gradually increase this period.

13. After this period is over, offer a prayer to the lord for the health and long life of sick people - whom you can actually visualize in front of you, and for the peace and prosperity of those who are suffering.

14. Get up slowly. Do not immediately run away. Take a few minutes before you leave the meditation room. Your mind and your nerves were extremely calm during this practice, and if you suddenly jump out of that mood and rush into company, you might injure the nerves. This is very important.

15. You can practice this at other times, too - several times a day. Do not sit for this practice within two hours after a meal. Do not wear tight clothing.

16. Do not eat anything for half an hour after this practice. And, do not take bath immediately either.

17. If you wish to do a few rounds of pranayama, you may do so before you start this meditation practice, or soon after step 2 above. Bhastrika is useful.

 

If the mind wanders, open your eyes, gaze at the picture, and start all over again from step 5 above.

Japa - repetition of a mantra - itself will lead to meditation. The lord's Grace will lead you to meditation and samadhi.

If evil thoughts enter the mind, do not pay any attention to them. Let them depart, as uninvited guests will if totally ignored! Go on with your japa, visualizing the lord in the heart. If the mind wanders, resort to mental worship; or, open your eyes again, and gaze at the image.

It is very important to see that the body and mind are relaxed. There should be no tension anywhere. The posture of the body should be steady but not tense. The mind should be concentrated on the object with ease; otherwise, every extraneous thought entering the mind will also get fixed there! Let go your hold on the world, and gently hold on to the thought of God.

The secret in meditation is to be active without effort. Usually, we are either active and full of effort, or we go to sleep. But, there is a state which is the happy medium between the two - to be awake and alert, but without struggle.

In the initial stages of meditation, it is possible that, as soon as the mind is concentrated and you begin to do japa, something you had forgotten is recollected by the mind. If it pertains to the business of the day, the mind is distracted. It is therefore advisable, in the initial stages, to keep a piece of paper and pencil by your side and note these down, so that the mind may be reassured that they will not be forgotten again, and that it could go on with the japa. Use your commonsense in overcoming such obstacles.

Several methods have already been suggested, not only to offset obstacles, but to keep the meditation alive and alert. The very best is of course to seek the source of the sound of the mantra that is heard, and then the identity of the one that listens to the mantra. If this method is mastered, no disturbances - internal or external - need distract you, because you know how to make use of any disturbance! Anything that happens inside or around you is only going to stimulate you to greater vigilance. If there is a distraction, this vigilance will confront it with the question, "I am watching my breath and repeating the mantra; from where do you come?" Thus, there are no obstacles at all from there onwards.

On no account should you give up the morning meditation, and get up from your seat before the appointed time; if the mind knows that you are a hard taskmaster, it will meekly obey you.

One of the main reasons why this meditation exercise is performed in the early morning hours, is because it is then that the ego-sense arises after the period of deep sleep earlier. It is therefore possible to ask oneself: "Where was this ego-sense a few minutes ago? How does it arise, and what is its source?"

Even during the day, close your eyes every hour, and consciously withdraw the mind from the world, repeat the mantra, and meditate upon god for just a few seconds. Keep up the current. If you keep a small japa-mala - rosary - in your pocket, it will help.

By even attempting to practice meditation, you will enjoy peace of mind, and the ability to concentrate the mind at will, wherever you are.

Another period of meditation, just before going to bed, is of incalculable benefit. It carries the fruits of meditation into the state of deep sleep. If you restore order to the mind before you go to sleep, the mind is free to refresh itself thoroughly. Meditation restores order to the mind.

Of course, all that has been described so far, is no more than japa or the repetition of a mantra, and the visualization of what that mantra represents. These are effective aids - but in themselves they do not constitute meditation. The use of these aids is based on a simple and sound principle. The world outside is mainly name-and-form to us; the other sense stimuli are not so strong as the visual and the auditory. Our waking consciousness is dominated by sights and sounds. Our inner world is even more so. Our dreams - day dreams as well as night dreams - are also made up of these two. Objectivity is name and form. Hence, the student of yoga replaces the multitude of names and forms - worldly, exciting, emotion-generating, and pain-ridden, by one name and form of god - divine, sublime, peace-giving, and bliss-filled. This too is name and form, and this too is an object - though surely god is not a name and form, and god is not an object. Ultimately, therefore, even this will go; but, pushing it is foolishness.

Used rightly, however, these aids turn out to be valuable. And, what is their right use?

Patanjali's Yoga Sutras suggest the following:

When the name and the form are perfectly steady, the student begins to question it. "Is this the reality? Is this the self? Is this god? Is it not my own imagination, the object of my thought, the projection of my mental conditioning?" This questioning is not just mental or intellectual exercise; it is much deeper; for, by this time, the mind is fully concentrated, the image is clear and steady, and the mind is calm.

The answer to all these questions is an obvious 'yes'. However, the student does not abandon the whole thing, and get up and walk away. He enters into himself even more deeply. The inquiry may continue along these lines: "This is not the self or the reality. But, then, what is it? How is the unuttered sound heard within; what is it made of? How do I see this image, where is it, and what is it made of?" Surely, there are no verbal answers to these questions! The sound is not made in the usual way - by the vocal cords, etc. The image of god - or whatever it is that is chosen for the inner visualization - is not there as a solid substance. What is it made of? 'The mind-stuff' is an unacceptable answer; it is an expression as meaningless as the other one we suggested to ourselves as an aid - 'god within'. To be meaningful, it must be as real and as clear to you as this paper is. Thought answering a question concerning thought is waste of time. Hence, we pursue the inquiry by direct internal observation. The vital aspect of this part is to reject all thoughts concerning this phenomenon.

At this stage, the observing consciousness looks steadily at the object. There is no movement of thought. There is great clarity. Suddenly, it becomes clear that the object is but a reflection, a projection in the indivisible consciousness. Thus, the division between the observer and the observed is abolished; and this gives rise to an experience of inner delight.

However, there is still movement in consciousness. Consciousness is still aware of itself; this is the original division which is therefore potential diversity. There is the awareness of 'I am', which can easily expand itself into 'I am this', 'I am that' etc. Hence, even this is known as samadhi with consciousness, or samadhi with the seed of diversification present.

Beyond this, no effort on the part of the student is of any use, nor is it necessary. An effort is the expression of the ego, perpetuation of the division; abandonment of the effort is also the expression of the ego's inability or unwillingness to reach this point. The ego-sense should reach this point and, in total self-surrender, abandon all effort to abolish division, in the knowledge that the ego itself is the creator of the division, it is itself the division. What happens beyond this, the masters have alluded to as 'divine grace'. Patanjali also speaks of god as what remains after the ordinary self-awareness ceases to be - purusa visesah.

Awareness of division is the abolition of division. There is no division in the awareness which is undivided by the division. This position is not reached, it is not something to be attained; it 'is', it always is. When the dividing ego is seen to be incapable of dividing the indivisible, the shadow is seen as shadow. That which is, is; it alone is - and that is kaivalya - aloneness or all-one-ness, the knowledge that infinite diversity is infinite.

How this enlightenment takes place, no one knows. At one moment, this inner light begins to shine everywhere in your consciousness, and suddenly the 'I' has disappeared. It was not there in the first place. Only consciousness remains. Knowledge alone remains. Action alone remains. Seeing alone remains. Without the ego creating a division, a space between I and the other. When this light shines constantly within oneself, only then is one able to realize that what goes on inside is love; that that love is genuine, and that that love is directed towards the omnipresence.

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