The Relevance of the Bhagavadgita to Humanity

The First Six Chapters of the Bhagavadgita

by Swami Krishnananda

Chapter 26: Being Spiritually Alone to Oneself

In the verse under consideration, which we were discussing yesterday, the Bhagavadgita precisely states its intention. The yoga of Self-realisation adopts the method of self-restraint, and the restraint of the self leads to the realisation of the Self. This would mean that an uncontrolled self is not a realised Self. The realisation of the Self is the Self becoming aware of itself. When the Self knows itself, we call it Self-realisation. If restraint of the self is necessary for the Self to become aware of itself, it will follow from this instruction that a self that is not restrained is not aware of itself. This unrestrained self, which is not established in itself and therefore not aware of itself, also is aware of something. The unrestrained self is also aware of something, but it is not aware of itself. It is aware of that which is not itself. The self is aware of the not-self in uncontrolled states. What is it that the uncontrolled self is aware of? Anything other than itself.

The world is the object of the unrestrained self. The world becomes an object of the unrestrained self by way of an externally communicated attachment artificially creating in that object of attachment a sense of secondary selfhood, so that in all our objects of attachment we are secondarily present, not primarily. The lover is present in the object of love in a sense which is not natural, because one cannot be present in another. We observed that the self cannot be the not-self at any time. Hence, the unrestrained self's longing for what is not itself is a sickness of spirit. It is the opposite of the state of yoga. Yoga is the union of the self with the Self, establishment of the Self in itself, and being aware of itself only and nothing else, not because there is something else of which it is not aware, but because really there is nothing of which it is expected to be aware.

There is no necessity for the Self to be aware of anything other than itself. Truly speaking, this is the truth of the matter, the reason being that outside the Self nothing is. Inasmuch as the externality that is characteristic of all attachments cannot be in any way associated with the true nature of the self, all attachments are unspiritual. Every craving, every prejudice, every desire, every emotion outwardly motivated in the direction of external objects is irreligious, unspiritual, unnatural – we may even say morbid. It is a kind of sickness which has descended on the self itself, such kind of sickness that is equivalent with mortality. Death is the punishment meted out to this unrestrained self which attaches itself to that which is really not there, as if it is giddy, out of its head and totally topsy-turvy in its perception. It sees the movement of objects outside as a giddy brain sees mountains revolving. Therefore, the restraint of the self is necessary for the self to be really healthy.

Hence, the outer self has to be restrained by the inner self. The inner self should be restrained by the universal Self. The lower self should be restrained by the higher self. The lower self should be subordinate to the regulations and principles of the higher self. The outer self should be conditioned by the principles and regulations of the inner self, and the inner self should be regulated by the law of the universal Self. So the movement from the outer to the inner, and from the inner to the universal, is also a movement from the lower to the higher.

While we are in states of attachment, sentiment, emotional longing, etc., we are living in a world of the externalised self. But the Self cannot be externalised, so the world of perception by the externalised self is, in a way, an illusion. Perhaps, there is a point in some masters telling us that the world does not exist. It cannot exist because the Self cannot be other than itself, and the world cannot exist unless the Self becomes another, quite different from itself. Thus, the world is a contradiction. Hence, it cannot be real. And for any kind of self to imagine that this contradictory experience of this world is real, for that self the fate is that of the enemy who opposes a higher regulation, a higher authority and a higher Guru. The outer is manifold in its nature. All sense objects may be considered as an outer form of selfhood. The yoga here described is a withdrawal of the self from this artificial location of itself in objects of sense. This is practically tantamount to what we call in common parlance pratyahara, restraint or withdrawal.

The self that is not so restrained stands opposed to the welfare of the higher self. The intentions of the higher self are contradicted by the longings and prejudices and the ways of life of the lower self. Whenever the lower self's way of life is not in harmony with the regulations of the higher self, the lower self stands opposed to the higher self. Then the higher self is an enemy, as it were, of the lower self, an enemy in the sense that the higher self cannot brook intervention in any of its regulations. It is an indomitable principle.

A law is expected to be obeyed. A law that is not obeyed is no law at all. The intention behind a regulation is that it has to be enforced, and the self in a particular status of itself enforces its law. It enforces it vehemently, as strongly as the self can be, and if there is any other self than itself which has its own laws subsumed under the mentioned self, which is higher, there will be a reaction automatically set by the operative law of the higher Self in respect of that disobeying self. In one sense this is karma, bondage, caused by what we call the reactions produced by unlawful and unprincipled, unspiritual behaviour. The unspiritual behaviour is the essence of disobedience to the law of the higher self. That which is spiritual is the law of the Self. The Self is spirit and, therefore, the law of the spirit is called spirituality. To live the life of spirituality is to obey the law of the spirit, to be subservient to the law of the Self, which means not to disobey the law of the self-complete nature of that Self. It is self-complete, and therefore the imagined dissatisfaction felt in any status of self, due to which it is propelled to move in the direction of outward things, would be unspiritual. Any longing for objects of sense, therefore, may be regarded as opposed to yoga. Therefore, it is necessary to exert the influence of the higher self upon the lower self. Uddhared ātmanātmānaṃ (BG 6.5): The lower self has to be lifted by the power of the higher self. We have to enforce upon the lower self the law of the higher self.

But it is never to be pampered. The lower self is not to be indulged in. That would be the avasadhana of the self: nātmānam avasādayet. To pamper the cravings and passions of the lower self would be to allow it to go down and down into greater and greater pits of sorrow. This should not be done, and such a state of affairs should not be permitted. There should always be the control of the higher self over this little self.

All morality is obedience to the law of the higher self. The restraint of the higher in respect of the lower is called the ethical mandate. The determination of the lower in terms of the higher is morality. If the higher is not to operate in the life of any particular person, there would be no ethical behaviour, and there would be no moral conduct. So morality, while it is a voluntary acceptance of a disciplined way of living, is also a kind of control exerted upon oneself by a higher principle superior to the one with which one is individually accustomed in one's physical and social life.

Thus is the importance, at least in the case of a yogi, a spiritual seeker, of perennially keeping watch over the movements of the lower self as a policeman would keep watch of permanent vigilance over conditions which may go out of control. Vigilance is yoga. Any kind of heedlessness is the death of yoga. The great Sanatkumara says that heedlessness is equivalent to death. In a moment we may slip down, and one slip is sufficient to tumble us down to the lowest level. A little kick is enough to go down and down until we are at the lowest. To rise up once again would be very hard. So never allow the lower self to have a free hand. Do not give it a long rope. Let it be always under the subjection of the law of the higher self. Never befriend the cravings of the lower self, because the higher self is the real friend of the lower self. Law is a protector, and not a punisher. It is intended for the welfare of people, and not to destroy them. Discipline is not a pain-giving mandate. It is a protective measure and a health-giving procedure.

The law of the higher self, therefore, is a protector of the lower self. Hence, the higher is the friend of the lower, but law can also look like a terror. The disobedient may feel that law is an enemy. The obedient feels secure in the face of law. The one who is obedient to law is ever secure, always protected, guarded by the strength of law. But the disobedient is always in fear of law. The rods of administration are frightening. The arms of law reach up to the corners of the earth, and so the thief has no place to stay anywhere. So the law, the administration, is an enemy sometimes, but we know very well it is really not an enemy. Thus is the meaning here. The higher self is the friend and also the enemy: ātmaiva hy ātmano bandhur ātmaiva ripur ātmanaḥ.

Bandhur ātmātmanas tasya yenātmaivātmanā jitaḥ (BG 6.6). The higher self is the friend of that self which is controlled by its own self. Anātmanas tu śatrutve vartetātmaiva śatruvat: The unrestrained self will feel that the higher is always its enemy, a dreaded spectre. We fear God Himself. We do not know what God can do to us, merely because we know that we are always disobedient to His principles. Not for a moment can we fully obey His law, and therefore we are always awfully in fear of that Being who looks like a terror incarnate, while the greatest friend is God Himself. Suhṛdaṃ sarvabhūtānāṃ jñātvā māṃ śāntim ṛcchati (BG 5.29): The great friend of mankind is God the Almighty, who is apparently looking like a great enemy of man, insisting on obedience to His law.

So the practical methods of yoga of restraint of the self for the sake of the realisation of the higher Self are now being briefly stated in some of the verses.

yogī yuñjīta satatam ātmānaṃ rahasi sthitaḥ,
ekākī yatacittātmā nirāśīr aparigrahaḥ (BG 6.10).
śucau deśe pratiṣṭhāpya sthiram āsanam ātmanaḥ,
nātyucchritaṃ nātinīcaṃ cailājinakuśottaram (BG 6.11).
tatraikāgraṃ manaḥ kṛtvā yatacittendriyakriyaḥ,
upaviśyāsane yuñjyād yogam ātmaviśuddhaye (BG 6.12).
samaṃ kāyaśirogrīvaṃ dhārayann acalaṃ sthiraḥ,
saṃprekṣya nāsikāgraṃ svaṃ diśaś cānavalokayan (BG 6.13).
praśāntātmā vigatabhīr brahmacārivrate sthitaḥ,
manaḥ saṃyamya maccitto yukta āsīta matparaḥ (BG 6.14).

Here is a concentrated recipe of yoga. The yogi should unite himself with himself: yogī yuñjīta satatam ātmānaṃ. Satatam means always, permanently, without remission of effort. The yogin should always be engaged in being in union with himself. The yogi is the Self referred to here. We are all the Self. The Self is ever engaged in being what it is. Always exert effort to be what you are. Never be what you are not. What does it mean? Yogī yuñjīta satatam ātmānaṃ: The Self should always remain in its own status. You should not forsake your Selfhood at any time. You should not become other than what you are at any time, which means to say, you should not have any kind of longing for anything outside.

We are sunk in the world of outward longings. Every one of us can think of life only in terms of longing for things. A life without any desire is no life at all. Who can expect to live in that manner? There is always a need of some kind, a pressure, sometimes some comfort reaching up to a luxury. Can anyone think of a condition where it is not necessary to want anything? We cannot imagine such a state because we live in a world of relationships. We are immersed in a web of contacts with everything possible. The whole environment is sticking to us as an accretion grown on our own self. We carry the coat of externality wherever we move. We cannot be without it. So to be without this dress of external attachment would look like living naked. A totally desireless life is unthinkable to ordinary human minds. The difficulty in even imagining such a state arises because we have not been accustomed to think in these novel ways which may be considered as the spiritual outlook of life. We have a worldly outlook of life – a physical, social, political, economic and family-ridden life of attachments – which we consider as the only possible way of living, and there cannot be any other way of life. This is mine, that is mine, this is not mine, that is not mine, I am this, I am that. There is no other way of thinking except in these ways.

Therefore, we may have to get re-educated entirely into a new system of thinking. The mind which has been brainwashed into the belief that to be alive is to be desiring cannot understand how it can be alive without longing for objects outside, without possessing them and without enjoying them, because life is satisfaction. We do not live in a life of sorrow. We have somehow acquiesced in the conviction that to have nothing of one's own is to live a life of utter poverty, a life of vegetating, and not a real life at all.

What do you think of this state of affairs of the mind of a human being not wanting to live a life of yoga? It is lack of faith arising out of lack of understanding, an absence of yoga due to an absence of sankhya, to repeat the very words of the Bhagavadgita. We are totally deprived of correct understanding, and therefore the way of life chalked out by this right understanding is not acceptable to us. It is not intelligible and, therefore, not acceptable. But all the course that we have now covered through these chapters of the Gita would have given us a little bit of an awakening into the facts of life. The world is made in such a way, truly speaking, that it is not necessary to ask for anything in this world.

We can understand the meaning of this position only if we remember what we have studied earlier. The world is related to us in such a way basically that we need not expect anything from it, as when a customer goes and expects something from a shop. The world is not a market where we can purchase things or beg for things. It is our home. Therefore, we are secure in this world, but we are secure only if we are friends of the law of the world, which is also a state of the Self. As was stated earlier, we are ever protected and we can never be forsaken in this world, but we are protected only if we are friends of the law of that principle which is ever ready to protect us. Otherwise, the world is an impossible place to live in. We cannot live in this world for three days if we have a wrong notion of it. The world is sticking to our skin, as it were. It is our large self. It is one degree of the manifestation of the universal Self, and our little self, in its unitive association with this large Self, stands not only united but guarded, protected, and provided with every amenity. It will be told us later on that we shall be taken care of, and we shall be guarded: yogakṣemaṃ vahāmy aham (BG 9.22). Who says this? God says that, or the world says that, or your higher Self says that, the law says that: I shall look after you. Therefore, there is no need for asking. Hence, there is no point in the clamour of the senses for objects outside, especially as it is an unnatural way of thinking. Therefore, all our joys in life are, in a way, unnatural. The satisfactions of life to which we cling so much as the only normalcy in existence is utter abnormality. It is a spiritual sickness – a metaphysical evil, as philosophers call it. Therefore, let the yogin restrain himself: yogī yuñjīta satatam ātmānaṃ rahasi sthitaḥ. Ekākī yatacittātmā nirāśīr aparigrahaḥ: Be alone to yourself and live a life of seclusion.

Here again, we have to appreciate the real intention of these instructions. Are we ever alone in this world? Is it possible to be secluded and to be in a state of utter retreat? Is it a practicability? The yoga of the Bhagavadgita is a novel teaching. It is always putting the finger on the knob. It always answers questions to the point without beating about the bush, and therefore it is so concentrated in its teaching that it may sometimes seem difficult to understand and to appreciate its meaning. What is meant by saying that yogins should be alone and be secluded? How could we become secluded in this world?

Well, as the yoga of the Bhagavadgita is also an instruction and a gradational ascent of the self from the lower to the higher state, the meaning of the terms 'seclusion' and 'aloneness' should also be considered in their gradational meanings. In the lowest meaning it may mean that you should physically be dissociated from the crowds of people as much as possible. You should not always be longing for association with herds, crowds, multitudes. The more you feel satisfied in being alone to yourself, the more is the progress you have made in living a spiritual life. If you feel sick and out of sorts because nobody is there to talk to, you may consider that you have not appreciably entered the field of spirituality. There is still a longing for something other than one's own self.

Here again we have to follow the law of what is called the via media, or the Golden Mean. This also will be mentioned in the coming verses. You should not go to extremes in your longing for seclusion or being alone. You should know your strengths and weaknesses at the same time. A good soldier capable of fighting in the field of battle is one who knows his strength and also his weakness. It is not good to either overestimate oneself or underestimate oneself. You should know where you stand, and then you will know how to prepare and guard yourself, and work ably in the condition in which you are placed. Likewise, in your aspiration for living a life of yoga, aloneness and seclusion, you must know what you actually are capable of. In the initial stages it may be a gradual elimination of unnecessary contacts with people and things. As Swami Sivanandaji Maharaj was ever fond of telling us, we have to keep a spiritual diary to check the daily progress that we make in our practice. What are the essentials and the non-essentials in our life? We have to demarcate these two things. Now, we have to be a little honest and dispassionate in distinguishing between the essentials and the non-essentials because if we are not honest in making this clear-cut distinction, the non-essential also may look like an essential and the luxury may look like a necessity. Thus, it has to be a dispassionate self-analysis.

In the earlier stages, therefore, the non-essentials should be avoided. Unavoidables, of course, are always unavoidables. You cannot give up those things. “This is impossible, and therefore I must have it. If I don't have it, it will be like death for me.” Well, in that case you have it. But if you can manage comfortably without something, that something is not a necessity. You have to use your own intelligence here if you are endowed with a dispassionate viveka shakti, or discriminative power. If this power is lacking in oneself, it is always good to consult a superior if a superior is available. “These are my ways of living, this is my daily sadhana, this is what I do from morning to evening, this is my routine for the day. Do you think this is all right, or am I making a little mistake?” A superior who has great experience and has trodden the path much before you will be able to guide you to some extent. So in the earlier stages, this instruction of being secluded and being alone may be taken as the elimination of the non-essentials and maintaining only the essentials.

What are the essentials? They are those things without which we cannot exist, and we cannot even sleep, the absence of which will cause restlessness and tragedy will befall us. They are the essentials. This is not easy to understand. You cannot know what are the essentials. Everything will look essential. Therefore, a careful self-analysis, mathematically precise, should be carried on with the help of a Guru, a superior, a teacher in whom you have faith and confidence.

Be alone to yourself when it is not necessary for you to be in the midst of other people. Sometimes it is compulsory for you to be in the company of somebody when you are working somewhere, or for some obligation that you have to discharge. That is an essential. Where it is not obligatory for you to be in the company of somebody or in association with something, that association should be avoided. Thus, you may find more time to be alone to yourself instead of saying, “I have no time.” There is time for everybody. When prarabdha is so heavily weighing upon our shoulders that we cannot find enough time to contemplate, study and be true to ourselves, what to do? Sometimes it may be even necessary for us to reduce our sleep. We have to undergo this little extra sacrifice of reducing the sleep without injuring ourselves. The Bhagavadgita is a good physician and a good parent. It tells us, “Don't ruin your health.” Extremes are not permitted in the yoga of the Bhagavadgita.

Thus, in the beginning non-essentials may be eliminated, and one may resort to only essentials. Being alone and living in seclusion may be regarded as an achievement, but there is a higher meaning hidden in this instruction when we try to understand it from a purely spiritual point of view. You can be alone even in a marketplace; it is not impossible. Even in a railway platform you can be alone to yourself. Even in the din and bustle of a large clamouring crowd of people, you can be as if in a forest with utter desolation around you. This experience is possible even in the midst of dinning noise and the pressing crowd. This is to understand these instructions spiritually, which is a better way of understanding than physically interpreting them as being isolated inside the room, not being seen by anybody, shutting the windows, doors, etc. All that is one thing; a better thing is to be spiritually alone because it is possible that you may be physically, socially alone and in a state of retreat, yet mentally in a crowd. You may be psychologically in a club or in a market while physically in a jungle or in a closed room or a cell or a cave.

Hence, another caution has to be injected into these instructions that one should be alone in a state of concentration in yoga; one should be secluded. There is no real friend in this world. Nobody is your friend. All friendships are an artificial concatenation of forces, relative associations conditioned by factors beyond your control. Nobody will help you finally, and therefore you stand alone when death yawns before you. When the greatest tragedy of quitting from this world is to stand face to face with you, no dear friend, no husband, no wife, no wealth, no property, none whom you hugged as your dearest and nearest will come to your aid. Therefore, that predicament of utter isolation which you may have to face one day or the other should be considered by you as your real status even now. That which you may have to face last is also the condition into which you were born first. You were utterly unbefriended when you came to this world. Nobody came with you – no relation, no friend; nobody knew from where you came, and you will go in a similar condition. How is it that in the middle you had so many friends? You brought nothing with you, and you shall take nothing with you. How is it that in the beginning you had nothing and in the end you had nothing, but in the middle you became so rich with so many things? By exploitation, by imagination, by artificial association you imagined yourself to be rich with friendship and wealth, and so on; hence, dehypnotise yourself. Do not be under the hypnotic effect of artificial friendship. Nobody is your friend, finally. There is no one in this world who, under certain circumstances, cannot deal a blow to you; therefore, do not trust anybody as your utter friend. That is to be guarded.

But thirdly, there is a higher philosophical way of looking at things. The whole universe is a mass of uniformly spread-out forces. You have already been told that sattva, rajas and tamas are the properties of prakriti, which constitute the whole cosmos, of which you are also an embodiment. Your whole personality, body and mind, are made up of these forces only; therefore, you have no friends. You are not in association with anything. Association is unthinkable in this circumstance of your whole personality being made up of the very same substance out of which the whole cosmos is made. Hence, no outward relationship is conceivable. There are no friends, no associations, and nothing can belong to you. So now you are alone in a very lofty sense. This is to conceive aloneness in a philosophical and universal sense. At other times you may consider yourself as alone, as explained, but in the lowest of stages it will be a physical attempt to be isolated from unnecessary connections with unwanted people and things.

Ekākī yatacittātmā: Yata is 'united, restrained, controlled, and in a state of communion'. The mind and the soul have to stand together in union in yoga. Citta is 'mind', you may say, and atma is 'what you are'. Your self, your whole being and your thoughts are united. Your thoughts are not outside you; they are with you; they are you. The thoughts do not move outward. They are in you only; they are restrained. Here again is an injunction on pratyahara. The mind and the intellect and the self stand united as a single experience. This is to be yatacittātmā. Nirāśī: Wanting nothing. And aparigrahaḥ: Expecting nothing. Thus, one can be happy, and a yogi is always happy. Under every circumstance of life he is ever contented.