The remedy for all this is meditation itself, for there is no other way. The laws of Nature seem to be such that one can neither live nor die happily. This difficulty is summed up in a single word, 'Samsara'. The cure for Samsara is spiritual meditation, and it has a great many varieties of techniques which have to be employed with incisive carefulness. Nothing would appear to be happening when the meditation process is dull or when a blade of grass sweeps over a sleeping hand. It is only when an intruder seems to be arriving that the watch-dogs wake up to a violent activity and offer attack with all their might. The sensory beauty and personal grandeur which are all hidden within the resources of Nature get stirred up when meditation commences in right earnest.

The universe is something like a powerful radar system that is set up from all sides to record every action and every event that may take place anywhere, even of the least intensity or momentum. Meditation, when it is properly done, is not a silent and non-interfering process of thinking by some individual in some undisturbed corner, but a positive interference with the very structure of the universe and, sometimes, a directly employed system starts working at once and the forces around receive a warning, as it were, that someone is in a state of meditation. Immediately, counter-forces are gathered by what is generally known as the lower nature and the meditation receives a setback. The greatest obstacle in meditation arises from one's emotions, for human life is essentially a display of feelings. Forgotten memories get revived and they assume a life once again, creating a powerful disturbance and vehemently striving to bring back the worldly circumstances of love and hatred in the concentrated state of consciousness. It is here that desires which have once been suppressed get intensified and the occasional cravings of a dedicated one in spiritual pursuits can be worse than those seen even in the normal man of the world. For the rebuff that comes with a vengeance is always more vehement than the usual working of forces. Loves and hatreds are here magnified and even an ugly object looks beautiful. Silly things may assume great importance and even the least reaction from anyone may be looked upon with positive enmity. Imaginary fears crop up, which cannot be remedied by any available means, and attachments of a peculiar nature, sometimes difficult to understand, arise in one's heart. Well-to-do persons may steal a pencil or penknife in such a condition, an act which one would not do normally. Appetites become more virulent and hunger can become insatiable. Aspirants begin to develop affections in spite of themselves. To the starved emotions, everything appears beautiful and lovable. Attachments get formed to such things as a dog or a cat. The variety of the trouble is unthinkable.

Saints have reiterated that the primary oppositions to spiritual meditation come from the desires for fame, power, wealth and sex. The desire to earn good name is indeed quite natural. Censure is never tolerated, for it is a condemnation of the ego. The love for power may also insinuate itself into the mind of a seeker; and one might be satisfied with exercising one's power, over one's attendant or servant, when there is none else over whom it could be exercised. The desire for wealth does not always come as an ambition for vast riches, for desires are also shrewd in the ways of their working, as if they are aware that asking for too much would not succeed, and so they ask for small things which would easily be granted. Money, at least in small quantities, becomes a need, and there are obvious arguments in its favour. No desire presents itself without a good reason behind it. Every preference or wish looks rational and justified. But, mostly, the desire for sex, however, tops all others. This urge is said to die only when the person dies. In our scriptures we are told anecdotes of anchorites, and the primary weapon that was discharged against them by the celestials was the object of lust. This temptation can hardly be resisted. Not even the wisest of the Yogins is regarded as completely free from susceptibility to sexual armour. That one has already led a householder's life and then taken to a life of meditation guarantees no immunity from the further temptation of sex, for this desire is endless and it does not seem to get exhausted by constant use or be satisfied even with repeated enjoyment. Those who are not fully acquainted with this apparatus of the Tempter would indeed prove a miserable failure in their attempts, and suffer a defeat in their meditation.

In educated seekers, the ego may become over-weening and vain due to which there may arise desire to show oneself off, or they may suddenly imagine that they have a mission to save the world from downfall. Many seekers have honestly felt that they are veritable Avataras (divine incarnations) and that their knowledge is matchless in the world. One may begin to feel that one is always in the right and will never go wrong, and here any advice or suggestion for an alternative gets resented. This is the dominance of the ego, to which aspirants can easily fall a prey.

A sense of an unknown fear often begins to grip the aspirant by the heart, the sources of which he cannot easily discover. It looks as if the earth itself gives way under his feet and everything in the world has left him to his fate. There is desire and it cannot be fulfilled. There is anguish which cannot be recompensed. Occasionally, there is anger which cannot be adequately expressed. There may come even fear of death as the last of all threats, and all effort would appear to have been in vain. Life would appear to be ending without one's achieving anything, except suffering. These are some of the horrid scenes which the seeker on the path of meditation may have to witness, and blessed indeed are those who come out successful through these dangerous precipices and pitfalls. Gautama, the Buddha, had undergone all the trials, but he was a man of a sterner stuff; he attained enlightenment in spite of these oppositions.

Excesses in the practice may cause physical illness, which can act as an impediment to progress. Overdoing of the practice may land one in dullness and lassitude of mind. One may be given to doubt as to the efficacy of one's own method, at a certain stage. Remission of practice and slackening of meditation may result from a lengthened period of continued effort. A general torpidity of the whole system and a feeling of 'enough' with what has been done may set in. Desire may arise for small satisfactions which, when fulfilled, may assume large proportions. Lights and visions seen due to pressure upon the Prana may be mistaken for God-vision or mystical experience. At times, one misses the point of concentration which refuses to come before the mind's eye. And, even when it is gained, it appears to shake and never gets fixed steadily. Tremors of the body, moods of depression and disgust may appear and disturb the peace of one's mind.

The tumult of obstacles in meditation is there so long as thought has not entered being, but struggles to gain entry into it. The value-judgements of individualistic feelings and emotions do not easily depart but persist in viewing objects as fit to be acquired or avoided. The centres of force of which the universe consists still appear as concrete objects localised in space and attract one's attention. As long as meditation remains only a thinking of the mind, the usual difficulties on the way cannot be avoided. The great war takes place when thought touches the gateway of being and seeks access into it. The oppositions are the strong gate-keepers that guard entry into the Absolute.

One has to be cautious in dealing with the opposing forces. A direct frontal attack does not always succeed, for the enemies are equally powerful, if not more equipped than the seeker's energies. The aspirant should never go to extremes on the spiritual path, but always follow the golden mean in consideration and judgement. Sometimes, a little satisfaction or relief from tension, kept under a strict watch or caution, of course, may be necessary when the mind and senses become turbulent and death seems to be the only thing inevitable. The Buddha, here again, is our example. Too much austerity almost killed his person and no benefit accrued to him thereby. Mild satisfactions, with a tremendous vigilance, may occasionally be advisable. All this has to be done with a superhuman understanding of the situation, for the usual ethics or morals of the world do not apply to the seeker in their mere letter. The ethics of spiritual life is a little at variance from that of the common public of the world. While the morals of the society may be stereotyped, descending unchanged from grandparents to grandchildren, the morals of spiritual life may shift their emphasis on different sides of the mysterious difficulties on the way. The famous verse of the Bhagavadgita on this subject speaks a truth for all times: Yoga is not for one who enjoys too much, or for one who abstains from all enjoyment; nor for one who constantly sleeps, or one who keeps always awake. Yoga ends the pain of him who is moderate in enjoyment, recreation, work, sleep, as well as wakefulness. This golden via media is difficult to perceive, but can be seen with an immense subtlety of discriminating understanding. In all these endeavours, the personal guidance of an experienced Teacher or Adept is necessary.

The obstacles to meditation can be met by meditation alone, practised repeatedly with undaunted vigour. In meditation, thought ant being coalesce and become one. This is the stage of intuition, where objects disclose their essential character and, giving up all their tactics of opposition and revolt which they resorted to earlier, they assume a friendly attitude, and the whole universe seems to be on one's beck and call. The denizens of the higher planes, themselves, begin to help the aspirant, instead of opposing him as they did before. Service starts flowing from all sides and joy supervenes in one's nature. Light begins to flash from every atom of space and time overcomes itself. Distance disappears between things and the far-off stars seem to be rolling under one's feet. All that is covetable or desirable presents itself in its real form as an eternal fact of which one can never be dispossessed. Infinity and eternity blend into pure existence. Friends and enemies meet and enter into one's bosom. The universe casts off its externality, objectivity, materiality and transiency and puts on its supreme form of absoluteness, spirituality, intelligence and delight. Immortality and death become the wings of a single experience and all judgements enter the very being of the Universal Judge. It is the beginning of a Universal Self-possession, where creation seems to seep into one's existence and, in a flash of consciousness, man achieves awareness that his entire nature, physical and intangible, is bound up with all life that throbs and pulsates everywhere. In the lofty reaches of spiritual experience, one becomes all-inclusive, and is included in all, cognises and realises everything. This experience is super-sensory, super-mental and super-intellectual, and here the personality tends to disintegrate and one feels like being swept into a sphere of vaster implications, plumbing abysmal depths, scaling dizzy heights, viewing vast vistas unknown on earth. There is a sensation of Power which affects every particle of one's nature, and one is bathed in the Light of indescribable brightness. There is an awareness of the interpenetration of all things, and one is simultaneously in all places. Every single detail is exactly known in its own place, and in its minute detail, in its relationship to the Whole. Everything becomes crystal-clear, light shines separately from each single point in space, not merely from some orb like the sun from somewhere in distance space. One becomes immortal.