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The very words that we have in the
Bhagavad Gita, we have also in the Kathopanishad. "This is a wonder
indeed. The Self is a wonder." Why is it a wonder? Because, firstly,
it cannot be seen anywhere. Even when you say that it is everywhere, you
are making an understatement, because, as it was mentioned, the everywhere-ness
is connected with space. So don't say that the Self is everywhere. Don't
say that the Self is always, perpetually. By saying that, you are connecting
it with the time process. It is not quite fitting to say that the Self is
everywhere. Nor is it fitting to say that it shall be always. Neither is
it a proper definition to say that the Self is in all beings, because there
are no beings before it. Desha-kala-vastu-pariccheda: the de-limitation
caused by space, time and individuality does not apply to the Self.
No definition conceivable by logic
can apply to the nature of the true Self. No organ available with us as a
faculty of knowledge can apprehend it. We seem to be facing a wall in front
of us - a dark curtain - and we cannot pierce through it.
Does anyone realise the difficulty?
The difficulty is in the operation of our consciousness. It has involved
itself into a tangle of perceptions shrouded in the three states of waking,
dream and sleep. All these three difficulties mentioned are connected with
the three states of consciousness, jagrat, svapna, sushupti - waking,
dream and sleep.
Neither the waking nor the dream
nor the sleep condition is the essential nature of the Self, as we have already
noted. The Self is just as it is. It is Pure Being, Existence as such, Existence
which is aware of itself. It is not existence like a stone's existence. It
is a consciousness-existence, or rather, existence-consciousness. In Sanskrit,
we call it sat-chit. The Existence which is aware of itself is sat-chit. It
is not limited by any kind of conditioning factor in the world and, therefore,
it is utter freedom. So, it is bliss, ananda. Sat-chit-ananda is the
tentative nomenclature-definition which we associate with the nature of the
Self, for want of better words.
Can anyone contact Being, as such?
If this could be possible, one can contact the Self, also. Actually, there
is no such thing as contact with the Self, because contacts are always between
two things and in the Self, there are no two things. No one is there who
can contact it.
By hearing all this one can get
frightened, as children are frightened in a place where they can see nobody
outside them. A little baby cries because it cannot see anybody outside.
It cries not because it is seeing something, but because it is not seeing
anything. You place a baby somewhere where it sees nothing outside - nobody
is there; it will start screaming. It wants somebody to be seen.
Our ego-consciousness will, baby-like,
start crying in a state of consternation, fear arising from not something
that is there, but from that which is not there. Each one of us can experiment
with our own selves by living in a state of utter isolation for some months;
and one can see what one feels at that time in one's own mind. You should
not live in the midst of people. There should not be a second person next
to you. Let us see if you can live alone in such a way that for several kilometres
around you there is not one human being, and let this kind of life be lived
for a long time. You will be frightened - not by something that is around
you, but because of the absence of anything around you: Oh, there is nothing,
there is nothing! There is then a shuddering of the ego-consciousness.
The ego-personality lives on account
of contact with things outside. Any kind of non-contact is veritable death
for the ego. You have to go on speaking; you have to go on seeing. These
two things are very essential for your social existence. If you don't speak
for one year, you will feel like a half-dead person. You will feel miserable
to the core. And if you don't see anybody, it is still worse. And naturally
when you are alone in that condition, there is no question of speaking. To
whom will you speak? Will you speak to the sky?
So, neither will you see anything,
nor will you speak to anybody. What is that condition? Fear! In a few days
you will run away from that place, to the nearest market where you will have
somebody to talk to and chat with, and something to see with the eyes. The
desire to see and to talk is the basic impulse in a human being. Otherwise,
misery is the fate. But this sight that you are asking for, in search of,
this God-realisation that you are speaking about, the great God who is the
Self of all things - this Self cannot be contacted because there is nothing
with which it can come in contact.
Unthinkable, imperceptible, is the
way of Yoga. The way of the Yogi is like the track of birds in the sky or
of fish in water, as they say. The track is invisible. So are those of fish
in water; so is the path of the Spirit. It is invisible. The Katha Upanishad
warns us again - sharp as the edge of a sword or a razor, imperceptible is
the path of the Spirit - subtle, cutting, and you can slip down from it in
a second. One cannot always be in a state of Yoga for years. In a few moments
one can come down and slip to the lowest of social existence.
This is so because of the fact that
we are not prepared to face this condition of fearsome existence where there
is nothing outside us. You can sit in this hall with hundreds of people seated
here in the audience and yet negate the consciousness of their existence
by the affirmation of your mind and feel oneself alone if you so like. In
the midst of hundreds of people, it is possible to feel alone. But where
there are no people around, you can feel a city around you if your mind is
so constituted.
If the mind is thinking of marketplaces,
railway stations, bus stands, tea shops and societies, you are in a metropolis
even if you are in the thick of a jungle. But even if you are in a large
audience of people in a real city but the mind is withdrawn from the perception
of the externality of these individuals, you are alone, still. Let them be
there. There is nothing wrong with them. Let millions be there around you,
but you shall not allow the mind to cognise them as external locations. Then
in the midst of a large audience or even in a thickly populated street, you
will find yourself alone to yourself.
Fear arises due to the aloneness
of the mental operation at that time in the practice of Yoga, and not necessarily
because of the nonexistence of things outside. Everywhere there are things.
How can you say that things are not there? It is a question of perceptibility
or imperceptibility.
In the assiduous practice of Yoga
of the recognition of the Self, it is, of course, to some extent advisable
to physically wean oneself away from human society; but this is not a solution
to your problem, because in solitude also the mind can think of the world.
You will at least think that you have come from such and such a place: "I
have come from Rishikesh." There comes Rishikesh, even when you are
in a state of utter isolation of mentality.
Physical aloneness alone is not
a solution to the need for achievement of a real aloneness that is required
for Self-recognition. Yoga is not a social practice. It is not a political
administration. It is not a commerce. It is not a dealing with anything.
It is non-contactual contact, impossible even to perceive, to think. Even
Yogis are frightened by it. Yogis are frightened even to think of such a
predicament as what you are describing - what to talk of common people? But
you have to pursue it.
If you are persistent and tenacious
and bent upon getting it and will not budge from that attempt - day in and
day out - your mind is thinking, dreaming, and brooding over it:
"When shall I get it, when shall I get it, when shall I get it?";
if you have no interest in anything else, and you have a faith that you are
going to get all things by the invading of the ego into the Self, "Then
blessedness be yours," Prajapati, the Creator, said to the gods and the
demons. "Whoever knows the Self shall have everything."
The contact of things in this world, says
the epic Mahabharata, is like the contact of logs of wood floating on the
surface of the ocean. If two logs of wood somehow meet and touch each other
by the force of the wind that blows on the surface of the ocean, and if you
assume that each log of wood has a mind and a consciousness, it will think
that a friend has come. Shake hands. "How happy to see you, my dear
friend, my love." And they will hug each other and live together, not
knowing the fact that the contact has been caused not because of their effort
but because of the wind that blew from above. When the wind blows in another
direction, there is bereavement, "Oh, my wife died. My child has gone.
My relations are dead." Because the wind blew in another direction,
the logs are separated. Neither birth nor death, neither coming together
nor separation, is in anyone's hands. It is the will of the cosmos that operates.
Contacts of any kind are not to
tempt us to such an extent as to make us forget the true nature of the Self.
All joys born of contact of sense organs with things are wombs of pain, says
the Bhagavad Gita.
People who cling to persons will
also come to grief by bereavement and death. People who cling to money and
wealth and land will also come to grief by a loss of it. People who cling
to this body also will come to grief when it departs. There is no one who
will not be in a state of sorrow if clinging is the way in which we conduct
ourselves in this world.
Non-contact is the nature of the
recognition of the Self. Yoga of the Self - atma sakshatkara, or brahma
sakshatkara - the realisation of the Absolute is the way, the art, the
technique, the science of non-contactual contact. It is contacting oneself.
To contact yourself, you do not
require eyes. You close the eyes, don't see anything, and yet you will know
that you are existing. Let the ears be plugged; you will know that you are
existing. Let there be no sensation of any kind through the organs of perception.
You will still be conscious that you are there. There will be the existence-consciousness
of the personality. You will know that you are: "I exist, and I am aware
that I am existing." To have this apprehension, sense organs are not
necessary.
Sense organs are not the means to
practise Yoga. It is not even the mind that is thinking the soul; it is something
different from the mind that is asserting that you are existing. Even in
the early morning when you have got up from sleep, and the mind is not very
active, you will feel that you are existing. You get up from sleep - "I
am." The first awareness that is generated in your personality after
waking up from sleep is "I am." You don't start thinking of the
buildings and the walls and the things and the furniture in the room in the
earliest of stages of waking. The objects become objects of consciousness
only later on.
So, the first awareness is "I
am." How do you know that you are? What is the proof? Can you prove
that you are existing? People who always ask for proofs for the existence
of God should be asked to prove their own existence, first. How do you know
that you are existing? You may say, "Why should I want a proof for that?" If
that is the case, there is also no need of proof for the existence of the
Atman, the Self, or God, because the Atman, God, Self mean the same thing.
It is Self-identical consciousness of Being. As this kind of definition is
beyond the comprehension of the human mind, it is considered as a wonder
indeed if it could be really made an object of one's apprehension. By sense-control,
by the abstraction of the operation of the organs of perception, by freedom
from desires that are mortal, deceptive and perishable, by contentment with
whatever one has, by non-contact with people and having no attachment to
anything, the Self reverts to Self-consciousness, the Aloneness that it is.
A gradual inwardness has to be practiced
following the same process that perhaps Nachiketas adopted in his asking
for the boons, rising from the personality and society and going further
above into the cosmic existence, then finally centring oneself in the True
Self.
This indescribable thing is our
own Self. Myself, yourself, everybody, everything is the most important thing
in the world. Don't say that the most important things are the gadgets of
human creation. "You" are the most important thing in the world.
The greatest value that you can discover anywhere is your own Self. This
Self, that you call "Myself," - this is the greatest of values.
And if we can bring this Self of ours, which we consider as the greatest
value, into the surface of actual, visible contemplation, direct perception,
that would be the state of the practice of the Yoga of the Atman.
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