Twelve Facets of Reality , THE JAIN PATH TO FREEDOM
BY
GURU SHREE CHITRABHANU
Edited by Clare Rosenfield
NEW YORK DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
Jain Meditation International Center
120 East 86 Street
New York, NY
Tel: 212-722-7474
Copyright c 1980 by Jain Meditation International Center, Inc.
All rights reserved No part of this book may be reproduced in any form
without permission in writing from the publisher
Printed in the United States of America
1 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 I0
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Chandraprabhsagar, Muni, 1922-
Twelve facets of reality.
1. Jaina meditations. 2. Spiritual life (Jainism)--Collected works. 1. Rosenfield, Clare.
11 Title.
BL1378.7.C6 294.4'44 80-16773
ISBN 0-396-07902-4
To My Immortal Father
Pujya Munishree Chandrakant Sagarji
Whatever blooms have
blossomed forth are all from
the seeds you planted
Other Books By Gurudev Shree Chitrabhanu
Lotus Bloom
Fountain of Inspiration
Inspiring Anecdotes
Bondage and Freedom
The Beacon
Jain Master Speaks to One World
Ten Days Journey into the Self
Sense Beyond the Senses
The Philosophy of Soul and Matter
Realize What You Are: The Dynamics of Jain Meditation
The Psychology of Enlightenment: Meditations on the
Seven Energy Centers
TWELVE FACETS OF REALITY, THE JAIN PATH TO FREEDOM
The Immortal Song
May the sacred stream of amity flow forever in my heart,
May the universe prosper, such is my cherished desire;
May my heart sing with ecstasy at the sight of the virtuous,
And may my life be an offering at their feet,
May my heart bleed at the sight of the wretched, the cruel, and the poor, And may tears of compassion flow from my eyes,
May I always be there to show the path to the pathless wanderers of life, Yet if they should not hearken to me, may I bide patiently;
May the spirit of goodwill enter into all our hearts,
May we all sing together the immortal song of brotherhood,
The immortal song of sisterhood,
The immortal song.
--SHREE CHITRABHANU
Introduction
JUST as a mighty mango tree is hidden within the stone of the mango, even so, O man, divinity itself is hidden within you. Rest not until you uncover it."
These words, spoken more than twenty-five hundred years ago by the twenty-fourth Prophet of Jainism, Bhagwan Mahavir, resounded in the heart of Gurudev Shree Chitrabhanu when he first heard them as a young adult. This seed-thought continued to grow, blossom, and bear fruit throughout his life's experiences. Before he became a monk at the age of twenty he was inspired by two shining examples of the divine in man: his loving and highly principled father, and Mahatma Gandhi, with whom he worked for the freedom of India.
Events in his life accelerated the process of his inner ripening. At four years of age, he lost his mother, and at eleven his younger sister. As a college student, he won a severe bout with rheumatic fever, during which time he glimpsed his soul's longing to live in light and service to all. In his second year of working in Gandhiji's non- cooperation movement, he lost his closest and dearest friend. Then he lost his peace. He confronted and unmasked questions which lay smoldering in his consciousness "Is there some meaning to life? Do we have some mission, or are we to pass the years only in filling and emptying the body, in
collecting and rearranging things? Where did my loved ones go? What is the point of living if those dearest to us depart from us sooner or later?"
Rather than give in to the pain, depression, and confusion of those moments, he took a positive step. In search of permanent understanding, he discovered a genuine master who initiated him into the Jain monkhood and advised him "Books and other people's answers alone cannot illumine you. You have to dive into yourself. Why do you not have the experience of your own life"
Through patience, introspection, and the practice of silence for the greater part of five years, he began to remove the clouds of his unawareness. Living the itinerant life of a monk in the inspiring company of his master as well as his revered father, who became a monk along with him, he came closer and closer to his own reality. One night he unlocked the door which had sealed him from the knowledge of Self. He experienced fully the radiant sunlight of his being.
From that moment, his life became an actualization of his inner reality. It was his inborn gift to be able to melt the hearts of listeners and readers by his vibrant, poignant, and direct words arising from his own experience. In twenty-nine years as a monk, he walked barefoot over thirty thousand miles bringing people out from their pettiness, sectarianism, and closed-mindedness into the realm of the highest and noblest in them. As people's hearts were touched, they began to transform their lives. They attuned themselves to Mahavir's universal message and took the ideal of reverence for all life into the practical details of their day-to-day living.
In Bombay, Gurudev turned his energies to the stream of social action. He founded the Divine Knowledge Society, to which his students offered complete dedication. When a natural disaster, famine, or flood struck, teams of volunteers would go to those areas and distribute food, clothing, blankets, and medicines. The words of Mahavir came to life in the numerous instances of their giving of themselves: "Since you receive more than any other form of life, it is natural that you will want to give more."
Gurudev soon became one of the well-known spiritual leaders of the Jains in India. Founders of the Temple of Understanding invited him to address their First, Second, and Third Spiritual Summit Conferences in Calcutta and Geneva and at the Harvard Divinity School in 1968, 1970, and 1971, respectively. Gurudev's decision to attend in person the last two conferences represented a daring step. It was the first time in five thousand years of known Jain history that a Jain monk had traveled out-side of India. The winds of change were stirring within him. He rejected precedent, tradition, and
public opinion, and risked his position of great authority and respect in order to bring the universal teaching of reverence for life to the larger human family.
Inspired by the genuineness of his message, Gurudev's audiences in Europe, Africa, and America urged him to stay and teach them. Moved by their sincerity and eagerness to learn, Gurudev gave up the orthodox life of a monk, his title and post, and accepted the many invitations to teach in America. Among the institutions of human development sponsoring his talks were the United Nations, Koinonia Foundation, Pendle Hill, Wainwright House, Princeton, Sarah Lawrence, Cornell, the State University of New York at Purchase, and many others. He became for a time president of the World Fellowship of Religions, and worked closely with individuals involved in the Temple of Understanding and in the fields of yoga, psychiatry, philosophy, and government.
Founder of the Jain Meditation International Center in New York City, of which Gurudev is the spiritual leader he has inspired his students in Brazil, India, Canada Kenya, England, and diverse parts of America to open centers where the philosophy of reverence for life can be taught and practiced. Throughout the many changing phases of his life, as a monk or a family member , as a teacher or a student he has been communicating from his heart the underlying oneness he feels with all forms of life inviting mankind to see, experience, and rejoice.
--Clare Rosenfield
PREFACE
The Twelve Facets
1)THE CHANGELESS BENEATH THE CHANGES
2)OUR PROTECTION IN AN UNPROTECTED WORLD
3)LIBERATION FROM THE CYCLE OF BIRTH
AND DEATH
4)FREEDOM FROM DEPENDENCY
5)IN SEARCH OF THE INCOMPARABLE
6)THE FLAME IN THE CANDLE
7)OBSERVING THE INFLOW OF VIBRATIONS
8)THE ART OF THE FULL STOP
9)THE ART OF CLEANSING
10)THE NATURE OF THE UNIVERSE
11)THE RARE OCCASION
12)THE NATURE OF OUR NATURE
GLOSSARY OF SANSKRIT TERMS
Preface
IN this universe, all of us are on different levels of
seeing, of understanding, of experiencing. Some of us are caught by the bramble
bushes at the foot of the mountain. Others are halfway to the summit, but
because of clouded vision, take two steps backward for every two steps forward
and reach nowhere. Still others are hurtling their way
downward, unable to keep their footing, unable to glimpse their purpose. Those human beings who consistently and carefully remove the obstacles, meet the challenges, and climb onward toward the peak are rewarded with the panoramic view. What we long for is that--comprehensive awareness of all life as one, the experience of completion and fulfillment, a unity of our seeing, knowing, and living. In this clarity of understanding lies our true freedom.
According to Gurudev Shree Chitrabhanu, the great masters were those who, like a doctor, knew just where to operate to remove the cataract, the confusion in thinking. Because they stood at the peak, the height of self-mastery, they were able to show others the way. In this book, Gurudev draws upon his own thirty-eight years of experience in meditation to bring to life ancient reflections on twelve different facets of reality known as bhavanas. The insights which have arisen from his authenticity of experience and which he shares with us here can help us stop clinging to a distorted or dogmatic view and correct our vision.
To the Jains, the ultimate experience of reality is one universal, unfragmented. Like a perfect diamond, it is radiant, luminous, reflecting its source, that in each of us which is flawless, enlightened, pure, conscious.
When that conscious reality comes into manifestation it has a multitude of facets, countless rays of wisdom. Individually, each living being experiences that heart of the Self in his or her own unique way. That is why an integral part of the Jain philosophy and practice is anekantavada, a deep respect for others' viewpoints, an honest appreciation of the complementary nature of many approaches to truth. Behind this recognition, there is the feeling of wordless oneness which experiences the unity amidst all diversity. As the third in a trilogy of Gurudev's books, Twelve Facets of Reality: The Jain Path to Freedom reflects this principle, for it complements and completes its companion volumes, Realize What you Are: The Dynamics of Jain Meditation, and The Psychology of Enlightenment: Meditations on the Seven Energy Centers. Supportive to one another, these books take a person from the beginning steps in meditation to progressively deeper levels of practice and greater dimensions of awareness of life.
Gurudev's purpose in elucidating the bhavanas is to offer contemplations, pathways, open windows from which to see and feel the freshness of life. In each chapter, Gurudev presents a different pair of angles of vision different facets of reality. When you plunge into the meaning of each one, a moment comes and your mind calms down. It hushes its chatter and ceases to breed dissension, friction, doubt and fear. It stops clinging to the past and fantasizing about the future. It disengages. When the mind is not engaged, it is possible for you to have a genuine experience of reality. There is
silence, space, receptivity. The glimpse strikes home and you bask in uncluttered awareness, in wonder and ecstasy. At that point, the window drops its frames and you are one with infinite vision. This is how these twelve facets can help you, as they have helped Jain monks for thousands of years, to take a leap beyond all limitations into your own vivid pulsating life.
Once Gurudev's master told him, "I can give you the maps, the teachings, the guidelines, the steps, but I cannot give you the eyes." Underlying these twelve contemplations is the same statement. Are you eager to grow? Are you willing to give up pain and suffering? Do you long to open your eyes and see clearly? If you have this quest for freedom, take this map in heart and mind. With patience and energy, enthusiasm and confidence, you can reach the peak.
In Gurudev's words, "For those who open themselves, there is transformation, from age to youth, from misery to joy, from pain to peace, from dwelling on one's mortal frame to feeling one's immortal life."
It has been a privilege and a joy to work on these chapters which were originally a series of twelve talks given by Gurudev to his students at the Jain Meditation International Center from March 2 to May 18, 1977. I am deeply grateful to three special people who gave to this book their loving help, enthusiasm, and spirit: John Miller and Richard Kleifgen, who went over the text with a careful and caring eye, and June Fogg, who coordinated many of the details which enabled this project to come to completion. In particular, a warm word of appreciation to Allan, my husband, for continuing to understand, accept, and give me the loving space I never had to ask for in order to concentrate on and complete this endeavor.
To Gurudev Shree Chitrabhanuji who has shared with us all this gift of his experience, insights, and ancient teachings, and to you, fellow travelers on the path to freedom, I bow, in deep reverence, friendship, and love.
--Clare Rosenfield
FACET ONE: The Changeless Beneath the Changes
In this course we are going to meditate and reflect on twelve different facets of reality. Reflecting on these aspects, we will come closer to seeing life as it really is. When our mind does not see life as it is, it acts and reacts according to its preconceived concepts of what should be. It then uses all its energy to make these concepts concrete.
When concepts become concrete, then life becomes rigid, like a crystal. Whenever life becomes crystallized, there is no flow. Because of rigidity, we take stands. We go to the extent of fighting in order to maintain our bias. As a result, we become either temporarily happy or temporarily unhappy. If we watch ourselves at such times, we can see that we have lost pliability. In this way, we lose touch with the flow of life.
The twelve facets upon which we will meditate are twelve steps leading to the experience of reality. They are meant to awaken our inner awareness. In ancient days, they were called bhavanas, or reflections. Originally, they were given as meditation subjects to the Jain monks, to the initiates who had just left the worldly life with which they were familiar and whose taste was still upon their lips. They were to steep themselves in these meditations in order to remove this taste from their consciousness and come out from inertia, anxiety, distraction, moods, and desires. Absorbing and ruminating the meaning, they would come to penetrate the depths of their own reality.
Now these same bhavanas are offered to you, the serious students, the genuine seekers, to help you overcome the coverings and delusions which prevent you from seeing life as it is. The first and greatest stumbling block to confront and examine is trushna, or craving. Craving arises in your unawareness when you do not see an object as a thought crystal but, rather, as a means to gratify your desire. Then you put all your energy into getting it. Sometimes you never get it, and sometimes you do. But in any case, the time comes when you have to leave it. If you are aware when you have it in your palm, you look at it and smile at yourself, saying, "Is this the thing I have used so much effort to get? For this I have spent my energy?
What attracts and allures you from a distance does not look the same at close range. When you go nearer, you wonder, "Is this the same as what I saw from a distance?" You might have noticed at some time that when you are far from a mountain,
it appears mellow, round, and soft. Covered in mist, it looks like wax. When you are right next to it, though, you see the sharp stones and rocks.
That is why, in order to understand the nature of reality, we have to see what is real without distorting or hiding it. We have to remove all the outside wrappings which are created by our mind. The mind creates many beautiful phrases and mirages. It likes to hide reality with glossy coverings. Like the deer who runs toward a mirage of water when it is thirsty, we too are in a frenzy to get that which is merely an illusion.
If you want to feel the refreshing touch of a lake in summer, you have to remove your clothes. Otherwise, you will not get direct contact with the cool water. In the same way, if you want to enjoy the freshness of life, you must shed your coverings. Words, concepts, beliefs, crystallized thoughts act as coverings. Puncture them and you will see how hollow and insubstantial they are. Remove them and you will see yourself.
So the initiates are taught that they are deluded by outside things. They are given symbolic things to watch. For example, at dusk, the master and student may go out and sit and meditate. When it is monsoon season, there are clouds in many colors. Sometimes there is a rainbow. The master might tell the student, "See the beauty. Experience these colors. Notice in each cloud a shape. Be in tune with nature. Forget everything else. Then close your eyes."
The student becomes attuned to the colors and the shapes of the clouds at dusk. Then he closes his eyes and brings the picture of this to his mental eye. Over and over, he opens his eyes, watches the changing scene of nature, closes his eyes, and meditates.
After two hours, everything becomes dark. Then the teacher asks, "What do you see?"
The student answers, "I see nothing. Everything has gone."
Then the teacher asks, "Where have they gone--the beauty, the shapes, the clouds, the colors?"
The student remains in silence, pondering. And yet there is an answer. The beauty, the rainbow, have gone and yet they have not gone. They are there in a way. This is the point of meditation: everything is still there in the universe.
The teacher tells the student, "Nothing has gone. Everything is there. But because of the rotation of the earth, you see changes. Your physical eye sees that something has gone.
"Now use your inner perception. See that the whole galaxy is moving in an unbroken rhythm. The same sun we think of as vanishing here is being seen across the globe as rising. And yet it is the same sun. Lift yourself above the level of earth to the height of the sun. You will always see the sun. Be conscious of that sun in you, there is changeless life in you."
Behind the continuous changes is the continuity of the changeless. Changes themselves indicate the ever-presence of the changeless.
As soon as a dry leaf drops, a new green leaf is already sprouting. If we are aware, we realize that behind the tiny new leaf there is changeless, vibrant life. Because of that life, one form is dropped and another emerges. And the soul of the old leaf has already gone on to a new form, one with more sensory equipment with which to perceive the world in a new, more sensitive way.
We begin to see that all life longs to move to higher realms of awareness. For that, change is inevitable. Change is what allows the changeless to reveal itself as ever fresh. Without it, there is no growth, no renewal.
When we become convinced that change is for growth and growth is for becoming aware of our inner divinity, we will be inspired to be free, free from the tendency to cling to familiar things. We will become eager to unshackle ourselves from the fear of change.
When this truth sinks into our consciousness, it opens a new door. We stop seeing in a rigid way. The words "gone," "disappear," "vanish," "death" are seen for what they are - as empty or misleading words, based purely on our visual perception, not on our inner insight. So what appears as "death" to one is "birth" to another both are two waves of the same ocean: life.
So the teacher explains to the student, "Changes are causing us to be aware of the changeless, and the changeless is causing all the changes to take place. Until we reach the 'best,' we pass through 'good' and 'better.' All the forms change in order to bring out a better and better form. Ultimately, we become so refined as to be able to experience the radiance of our inner reality, the permanent bliss of our being. So, as you grow, cultivate this awareness that in the sunset dawn is hidden, in the dawn sunset is hidden. Appearing and disappearing are the play of life. Both are manifestations of the changeless.
The reflection on this first point of meditation is called
anitya--meaning transient, ever-changing--and nitya--meaning permanent, changeless. For the mind to know the ever-moving nature of anitya is frightening. Why? Because the mind tends to take that which is temporary and believe that it is going to last forever. The mind clings to whatever it has created-- things, objects, ideas, relationships, positions. That is why it is not ready to give them up when the time comes. Such a mind says, "It is going to remain with me. It is mine now." But the nature of nature replies, "Nothing is thine and nothing is mine."
If it becomes yours, it is going to lose its nature. It will lose its capacity to change. If it loses its nature of change, it will lose its freshness of life. It will become stagnant. If it always remains summertime, you long for winter. If heat remains permanently high, you cannot bear it. In the same way, when winter becomes too prolonged, you dream of summer. Changes make everything new and fresh.
We have to reeducate our mind. Otherwise it tends toward attachment, thereby creating sadness. When things or people depart from us, our mind is not ready to accept it. Grasping, the mind kills the spirit of the relationship. People accept this truth more readily for others than for themselves.
Observe what happens when the mind is not attached. Once an employee in a factory received a telegram telling him that his mother had died. He wanted to take a week's leave to go to his hometown to console his relatives and to be consoled by them. When he went to the factory owner to ask permission for the leave, the owner was out to lunch. So the employee left his telegram on the owner's desk, went back to his work, and waited.
It happened that the factory owner's mother was ill, and when he returned to his desk, without reading the name on the telegram, he saw only the words, "Your mother expired." Immediately he became sad and depressed. He put his head down on his desk and began crying.
When the employee came back, he saw right away that his telegram had caused a misunderstanding. He wanted to clear it up, so he explained, "Sir, please, I came to ask for leave because my mother expired." The owner looked up and said, "Your mother has also expired?" "No, sir," the employee explained, "I put that telegram on your desk when you were not here. It is my mother who has expired, not yours."
"It is your mother, not mine?" The owner jumped up, and in a matter of seconds he had become light and happy again. His whole attitude changed.
"Yes, sir," the employee continued. "Please grant me leave to see my relatives."
Now all of a sudden the owner began to preach and moralize because it was not his mother. He said, "Why do you want to waste your time going there? She is gone, and everything in the world leaves us sooner or later. Why make yourself so unhappy?"
See how the mind can teach beautiful truths to others when it is not bound by attachment. When you weave a thread around something, you are caught by it. This is the way the mind acts. Even the smallest thing which breaks, changes, or goes away can make you lose your balanced mood. Why? Because on that thing you have placed a seal and labeled it "mine."
Now, if you don't weave a thread around things that are not related to you, and if you know how to be wise for others, why do you not train your own mind not to cling and be possessive? Why do you not take a loss in your life as lightly as you would have others take it when it happens to them? Why are there two laws--one for you and one for others?
When you have a toothache, you feel as if there were an earthquake in your head. But when a real earthquake occurs, you merely comment, "This is the law of nature." Why do you feel no effect? Because of your emphasis on "I" and "my," you have lost connection with life at large. You have put all your energy into your own need, greed, and attachment. You have placed importance only on preserving the cocoon you have built around yourself.
Because of the cocoon, you become sad, depressed, angry. The slightest word, gesture, or insult can upset your whole day. Yet in your callousness, you can insult others and not remember. Why? Because there is no connection with the universal. All is centered selfishly in the mind, and that mind is not permanent. It is everchanging.
So the master tells the monk, "Meditate on nitya and anitya. Find out what is permanent and what is impermanent. Separate the grain from the chaff. Now they are mixed together. You must winnow. Learn how to fan out the husk from the genuine kernel. Then you are able to know what is everlasting and what is temporary."
This process of winnowing is an inside process. For that you have to come to the center of yourself. First realize and accept the transitory nature of forms. Then you will experience the nature of nature, the changeless behind the ever-changing.
This winnowing makes you selective in your word, in your expression, in your relations. The phoniness goes away. You will not exclaim, "I will die for you!" It is easy to use such words, and yet nobody dies for anyone. It is only make-
believe. People die for their own attachment, not for another person.
Before you use a word, feel the word. Taste the word. Just as a person who hears the word "mango" gets a taste and desire for mango in his mind, you get the real feeling of the word in your being. When you really experience the truth of this, then every word comes directly from your experience. You are not in a hurry to be clever with words .
There have been great poets and writers who did not write a lot, but when they did write they experienced deep feeling. They felt what they were bringing out. Whatever they wrote emerged from the depths. And what comes from the depths becomes immortal. Such words carry the touch of immortality.
Now we move deeper into self-investigation. By winnowing the chaff from the grain, by revealing the authenticity of our feeling with each word, we come to what we call "I." Who is this "I"? Is it a temporary "I" which is there for some eighty to ninety years? When the body ceases to function, where does it go? Has it gone into darkness or does it have some deeper significance of immortality?
Most people don't know what this "I" is even though they put it in capital letters. When we say, "I want to see you and talk to you," who do we mean? Do we mean "I" the body, the senses? Are we saying, "My senses want to see you"?
Is there only the body? Or is there something beyond? After all, when the doctor declares that a person is dead, the body is still there, the sense organs are still there. But the conscious, sentient energy that was able to sense is no longer dwelling in that body. Everything you might have thought of as "I" is still there. So what has gone? One minute ago, there was hope. Now the doctor says, "There is no hope." What has changed? Is there another "I" other than the "I" of body and senses which has gone from the body?
Go directly to yourself and ask, "What is that which has gone? What do I mean by 'I love you'--is it the body?"
If so, then why do we put it into a casket? Why do we not keep it? With chemicals we can preserve the body, but we don't want to keep it. Why do we not have the same feeling of communication and aesthetic outlook, the same feeling of love and ecstasy toward a body that is missing the real "I"?
What is missing and where has it gone? That "something" has not ceased to exist. If it has, then the world becomes nothing but constant change, impermanence.
But there is the changeless; essence remains. Only in a particular moment, for a particular person, does it seem no
longer to exist. It only appears as though dusk with its beauty and glow has disappeared. And yet we know it has not gone permanently. Dusk is somewhere, in some new form.
If you take a plane which travels at two thousand miles per hour, you can catch the glow of the sun. You can keep up with it and see that it has not gone anywhere. Catching up to it, you will be able to go farther than dusk, farther even than the sun.
We say that the sun rises and sets, but we know that the sun does neither. The movement of the earth is what gives us the illusion of the sun's rising and setting. The words we use are not precise. In the same way, in reality, we cannot say that the "I" disappears. As soon as it seems to be gone, it has already taken another shape, another glow, another color. When someone is crying over the loss of somebody, already that somebody is making someone else happy! In some house, happiness is bubbling, and someone is realizing, "Oh, I am pregnant! "
What has gone? What has come? Only the forms, the garbs, the houses. Not this "I." This "I" is moving eternally from beginningless time, becoming more and more aware of its reality through the evolution of form. The whole universe is a means to reach ultimate freedom.
When someone goes from your sight, remember the relation, the communication you had. To accept with solemnity and understanding is different from resisting with depression and sadness. To accept with calmness and deep feeling is not the same as crying, falling into deep mourning, and losing interest in life. People cry and sink to the bottom because of dependency. There was a crutch to lean on, and now that crutch has gone. People mourn not the person but the crutch. Where can they lean now?
It is not so easy to change thinking patterns. We live in a world of concepts, beliefs, and taboos. These are the walls and coverings preventing us from seeing and experiencing the real "I" of ourselves and others.
There is a beautiful example of a young monk named Upagupta. It was nighttime during the rainy season, and the path in the forest was covered with a blanket of darkness. Upagupta found his way to a certain tree and sat down to meditate.
It happened at that time that a famous dancer was going through the same forest to meet her beloved. The darkness was so thick that she could not see where she was going. She was still trying to feel the track underfoot when she bumped into Upagupta.
Oh!" she exclaimed. "Who is this human being?"
Just then there was a flash of lightning. In that flash she saw the person she had accidentally come up against.
"Such a beautiful person is sitting there," she thought. "So calm and serene he is. His lovely face and body look as though they were carved out of pure marble. Oh, if I get this man, this will be heaven on earth!"
She was proud of her beauty. She was the most famous dancer of her time and men would flock to her feet. She said, "You are so calm. You have such a radiance. Please come with me."
When he did not respond, she shook him and said, "You are meditating on what? See who I am!" Upagupta recognized the dancer. "I know who you are. But this is not the time, though I know that you love me. You go on your way. I will see you one day."
The dancer thought, "He knows I love him, he says. Then why delay?"
So she spoke to him again. "What is the reason for postponing? It will be too late. This is the right time."
He answered, "I know it, but the right time has not come in the right way. I promise you I will meet you. And remember, as you love, I too love. When it is the right time, I will come."
The dancer thought he was not in his right mind. And she went on.
Youth is like lightning, like a shadow, like the flow of water, ever-moving, so swift. Ten years passed. The dancer had overused her energy of youth and was now exhausted. She had not taken care of her body and was now suffering from a skin disease. She was trembling with fever and there were blisters on her skin. Nobody would even look at her, and the king drove her from the town. She was compelled to go out to a deserted village and live in a tiny hovel. There she was wasting away, crying and alone.
The time was right and a man came to see her there. He took her head in his lap. She was shivering with fever as he applied medicine to her sores, mouth, and head.
"Who are you?" she mumbled.
"I am Upagupta. Do you remember? I promised you. I love you. I have come to take care of you."
"Now I don't have anything to offer you," she moaned.
"No," he told her, "at that time you had something to offer which was transient, something which you yourself could not keep. Now you have something real to offer. I love that
which is not going to go. Our relation is for that. It is the relation of soul.
"In the glamour and ego of the past years, you did not realize the changing nature of all that--of your body, beauty, wealth, and your circle of partying friends. They were all there because there was that need. They were feeding it and now that need is over. My need is not that. Mine is the need of the soul."
Tears started rolling down the dancer's cheeks. She began sobbing. All ignorance was washed away by her tears. Upagupta took great care of her.
"Now," he told her, "let us transcend the small "I" and help others become aware of the real "I."
Soon the dancer recovered, and when she became healthy and strong, she renounced her old life and became a student of Upagupta. She spent the rest of her days peacefully meditating and sharing her insights with others .
When we are not aware of the real "I" in us, we are continually engaged in trying to keep the unreal "I" intact. The artificial "I" is the one created by society, emotions, and needs. It is what we call the body "I,'' the name "I," the form "I." Whenever we sense some danger to this superficial "I," we become upset, angry, and depressed. We have a sense of fear. We are ready to do anything to protect this "I" which cannot be protected.
The intrinsic nature of the superficial "I" is to change. That is why there is fear. Something in us knows that this "I" does not have the quality of permanence. If we identify totally with the ever-changing "I," we don't have that fearlessness which comes from knowing that in us which is changeless.
What we need is that fearlessness. It can only unfold in us when we know the real "I" and its permanence, when we know the difference between nitya and anitya. By knowing the "I" which is real, we are sure it is going to remain. Once we know it is not going to go anywhere, we don't make any effort to keep it.
It is like the difference between a candle and an electric lamp when you stand by the window. Near the window the candle is always flickering in the wind, so you put a protective covering over it. That is like the unreal "I" which we are constantly trying to protect, though it can-not be preserved permanently. But if you have an electric lamp, you have no need to protect it. You are not afraid that it will go out. The wind cannot extinguish it. The real "I" is like this, secure in all circumstances.
From where does this superficial "I" come? It is created, built by karmas, customs, creed. It is a social "I." Because of different geographical, physiological, and emotional programming, it creates barriers among people. Your unreal "I" is not the same as someone else's because what is important for your nation, race, or society is not important for his. So our mental structures and emotional needs are relative. And what is relative cannot become permanent.
That is why wise people don't try to impose their values on others. They see things as they are. They know the difference between the social "I" and the real "I." They are aware that the temporary "I" is a product of their conditioning and their society's values. Going further, they see something transcending. The transcending "I" has no local or geographical limitations. It has no fear of losing. That "I" is nitya, ever-remaining, immortal. That "I" is in you. That "I" is in me. That "I" is in everyone.
Your relationships must begin with yourself. First you know that "I" in you, then you will see it in everybody. If you cannot see the real "I" in you, you won't be able to see it in anybody.
Taking time to know it does not mean you are selfish. It means that you are experimenting with truth on yourself first. Then you will be able to share it with others. Before you give something hot to someone, don't you first test it on your own skin? In the same way, before you give this truth to someone, first experience it yourself.
So in the light of this meditation, see your own reality. Throw off the outside coverings and see the inside substance. Observe that until now you have made a box around yourself. Now you want to know what is really inside. If you don't go to your reality, your whole life will be nothing but pretense and fantasy. Living in make-believe, you will not be able to take the last step of evolution. So if you want to go further, be genuine. Go beyond words and come to the truth of experience.
See that although "I" appears to change with the change, in reality it is changeless. When people depart from you or you depart from them, see with the knowledge that something in you both will stay, something in you will meet again. As understanding deepens, relationships become profound. They are not only of the body, but they are perfumed with essence.
Otherwise, life is filled with so much fear and anxiety that
it is unbearable. But if you know that essence is never lost, though you feel
sadness at a dear one's departure, still you can come back to your work,
continue your routine, and experience living fully. Though there is seeming
disappearance, this disappearance is in order to appear
somewhere else. In order to go there, you have to leave here. In pure relationship one companion goes ahead of the other. The other follows later. The parting is temporary. They meet again. The changeless indicates that which cannot die, for it was never born; it is the very life of life.
Meditating in this way, we develop a sense of discrimination and a vast vision. Small things which used to trigger our addictions no longer bother us. There will be no need to use so much energy on temporary things. We become generous toward the shortcomings of others. We start to experience a deep feeling of oneness with all life, and we will not cry over the spilt milk of transitoriness. With our inner vision, we see that which is continuously pulsating in all, and rejoice.
SEED THOUGHTS FOR MEDITATION
If I accept rather than deny the transitory nature of all forms, then I can go deeper and realize that there is changeless life behind the ever-changing:
Change is for growth, and growth is for change. Both are for helping us become aware of our inner divinity and for inspiring us to move into higher life.
Let me stop trying to preserve the temporary cocoon I have built around myself so that I can connect to life at large.
Something in us will stay. That I love. It is the relation of soul to soul.
Appearing and disappearing are the play of life. Both are two waves of the same ocean. Both are there to reveal reality in a new and fresh way.
FACET TWO: Our Protection in an Unprotected World
Just as we need food for our body to nourish it, so we need food for the nourishment of our mind. When our mind does not get good thoughts, positive ideas, which are its nutrition, it becomes weak. And just as a weak body becomes the victim of any disease or virus, in the same way a weak mind can become the victim of any influence. It becomes impressionable, and wherever it goes, it takes on the color of that influence. It doesn't have its own special way of thinking.
A weak mind is more dangerous than a weak body. If somebody has a weak body, it is noticeable, and he can take vitamins, proper food, or yoga postures to strengthen it. But if the mind becomes weak, it is not so easily noticed.
Ultimately, the strength of the mind helps strengthen the body; and together they help the soul on its journey. That is why these twelve reflections are given--to use mind and body for the journey of soul, to use meditation to uncover that which is permanent, to see life as it is.
Meditation can be used also for only temporary things --to feel good, to get wealth, to have pleasant relationships. If you offer these reflections to those who want only the temporary, they will reject them. Why? Because they are not ready to go deep. They want what they can get immediately.
We are talking of something permanent, of long-term things in which some people have no interest. Those whose quest for the permanent has not yet awakened think, "Who knows what will happen later, after fifty years? Let me enjoy now!"
So the twelve reflections are given to the initiates, to people who are sincerely interested in life and the life to come; or, let us say, in the flow of life. Those who have given us these bhavanas saw the continuity of life, the eternal flow. They didn't start with birth or end with death. For them birth is a wave and death is another wave. If you ask, "Where is the first wave?" the wise ones answer, "It exists in the second wave. Show me the first wave and see the second wave. The first wave has created the second wave."
If you want to know the existence of the first wave, then you
have to know the second wave. If the first wave has not subsided, then the second wave will not come. The coming of another wave itself indicates that the previous wave has already merged. Something merges and something emerges. This is the whole process--merge and emerge. So birth is nothing but somewhere else a death. One wave merges in death, and another wave emerges in birth.
These two waves are connected deeply with one another. When we start experiencing this deep truth, this deep instinct, not only in words or phrases but in our real experience, we are then able to live in this world in the state of fearlessness. We can use all the techniques to overcome fear, but as long as we remain on a level of quotations without experience, the fear remains. Why do people have fear? Because they see everything decaying, disappearing. They have not gone beyond this level. That is why fear is always at the back of their mind.
This meditation helps us gradually experience another approach, a space where fear does not exist. How is this possible? Because the consciousness starts experiencing the permanent behind all the impermanence. It starts seeing the merging of the wave in the emergence of another wave.
Someone may say, "'The thing has disappeared." The person who has meditated will answer, "You talk of disappearing. Do you not see something appearing? Why emphasize that which is lost? Why do you not see that which is gained?" That is why our first meditation was on the changeless behind the changes. The world you see is ever moving. It moves and that is why it is new and fresh. But our ignorant mind wants to hold on to the things as they were and keep them. The mind has the habit of turning everything into an antique; it loves antiques !
When you have realized the difference between the permanent and the transient exactly, then you are ready to come to the second reflection--asharana, meaning unprotectedness. Beyond that is sharana, meaning protection. The initiate thinks, "I am always trying to seek some protection, some savior. My mind has been comfortable when somebody was leading me, taking care of me. Now I know that what I cannot do for myself nobody will do for me." This reflection gives a new insight--not to be dependent.
Mental dependence is built from childhood. If the mother goes away, the baby cries. It is natural. But even in their sixties people are like babies crying when mother leaves. Why? Because they always have that feeling of helplessness. They aren't ready to stand on their own feet. When you see that on which you were leaning slipping away, watch the fear arise. See how panic overtakes you. This second meditation helps us see that other people, and things as well, are
themselves helpless. How can they help you when they too are helpless?
In reality, as long as you have the appropriate karmas the person or thing will remain with you. You may do a hundred things to hold on, but when the karmas are over, the thing will go. And if you are not ready to see the truth, you may crumble completely. You find that it was a prop, a support, or a crutch. When you completely lean upon a prop or a crutch, what happens when it breaks? You tumble down. The idea is to build your inner muscles. Meditation, if rightly digested, gives you great strength. You start building inner power.
This does not mean you never accept anybody's help. It means you don't depend on it. If any help comes, take it, appreciate it, and be thankful for it. The difference is this: if you are not dependent, and help does not come you do not mind; but if you are dependent, and help does not come, you wait and build expectation. When your expectation is not fulfilled, you feel fear and panic "What will happen now? Who is mine?"
There is a meaningful story in Jain tradition about a young monk who had come to understand asharana in his life. One beautiful morning, he was sitting under a tree meditating. In that era the king of that area was Bimbisara, who was also in his youth, and very handsome. At the time, he was full of ego, for he did not know anything about religion, spirituality, or the inside world He gloried in his own youthful strength and prosperity. He was the biggest king of Magadha, now known as Bihar.
ON this morning, as Bimbisara was riding along on his horse, the birds were chirping, the flowers were blossoming, and nature was in full bloom.
Riding by, he saw the monk sitting under the tree meditating, and thought, "Why is this young man sitting and meditating here? He must be engulfed in poverty. Let me help him." So he called out, "Young man, what are you doing here? You appear like a mendicant."
"Yes, sir," answered the young monk.
"What is your name?" the king inquired.
"My name is Anatha, the unprotected one. I am protectionless.
The king was shocked. "When a king like me is lord of this whole province, how can you call yourself Anatha, kingless ?
"Sir," answered the monk, "shall I tell you my story? Do you have patience?"
"Yes," said the king eagerly. "I would like to hear you."
This is the story he related. "I was in my twenties and I had a beautiful wife, a big family, wealth, a beautiful house, plenty of money, food, and jewelry. All loved me, and at that time I was in the full bloom of youth. I became so egotistical and proud of myself I would not look down. I thought that the world must be at my feet. 'Whatsoever I desire, the world brings to me,' is the way I used to think.
"This ego I continued building inside. As a result, I continued treating other people as nothing.
"Then one day I came home from a walk in the garden and felt a little uncomfortable. I got a headache and fever. Slowly the fever increased. By night I was in bed. My body was shivering. My mother, who loved me, said, 'My darling son, what can I do for you? I am helpless. Let me bring something.'
"Physicians came, the herbalist came--but nothing helped .
"Here were so many people caring for me, but they could not protect me. Each pore was burning like fire. I was crying. Sir, Bimbisara, hear me! I was so helpless! And my wife, who loved me from her heart, prepared and applied sandalwood paste to cool my body. But as soon as it dried up, again the burning started. So it was applied for two, three, and four hours at a time. And then even that was too much, and it led to too much cold.
"Sir, will you believe it? In twenty-one days I became a skeleton and I could not digest any food or medicine. At that time, I thought, 'What shall I do?' I became desperate, and although my wife, mother, and servants were there, I was alone in the bed, without any refuge or strength to turn to.
"Then a thought came to my mind. Once when I was going somewhere on my horse, the great sage Mahavir was speaking and I heard him as I was passing by. He said, 'When you are helpless and there is no protection, accept the protection of these four pure elements: Arihanta--those who have conquered all inner weaknesses; Siddha--the Perfect Souls; Sadhu--the Saints, whose energy is vibrating in the universe; Dharma-- the Pure Teaching which comes from the Enlightened Ones. With pure feeling, move toward that. When there is no protection, take the protection of these four.'
"This idea came floating to my mind. I thought, 'Now that nobody is able to protect me, let me surrender my-self to this.' My mind became so engaged in repeating these blessed words that I started absorbing the energy.
"Exactly at midnight, my eyes were so calm and clear that I was able to sleep peacefully the whole night. In the morning when my wife saw me, she thought, 'Last night I applied sandalwood paste especially and now I see it has worked.' And the doctor thought, 'My medicine is working now.' Another came and said, 'I gave roots and now the juice from them is working on him.' Everyone was ready to take credit for my improvement.
"In the afternoon, when I opened my eyes, everyone started to tell me what they were thinking. I told them, 'Thank you for what you have done for me. I appreciate your care and your help and your feelings. But let me tell you the truth: in this world when a person becomes protectionless, there is nevertheless one protection: the Higher Self.'
"I connected to that invisible inner force, which is always there, and ultimately I became in tune with it. My mind which was creating so many turbulent thoughts became calm. In the state of calmness, I merged into that pure state, and I thought, 'I take protection of all the Perfect Souls who became pure consciousness. I associate with their vibrations. I take refuge in the Conquerors of inner weaknesses. I join myself with the Saints of the universe wherever they are. And I merge in that Teaching of Dharma, that flow which comes from the compassion, love, and deep peace of the Omniscient Ones.
"That turned into medicine. It became a soothing balm for my consciousness."
Then Bimbisara asked, "What did you do then?"
"After that," the monk continued, "when I became well, I decided to take another path. I left my prosperous life. I have taken the path of the unprotected. That is why I am Anatha, without any worldly resort or master. But if you want to know the spiritual master, it is Arihanta Mahavir."
"Who is Mahavir?" asked the king.
"Sir, fifteen miles from here, in your town of Rajagruha, he is living a beautiful life. Go there and see for yourself. "
Because of the young man's word, Bimbisara went to visit Mahavir and then and there became his disciple. He became his patron as well, and throughout his life he supported both Mahavir and Buddha, who also came to live and teach in the region at that time. Bimbisara de-voted his life to supporting the teachings and all the good causes because he felt it was his mission.
When we meditate on unprotectedness, we gain a different level of understanding. We see that the real help comes from the pure stream of consciousness. It is like a current that is always flowing. When we need it, we will have it. It is always there. We have only to remove the curtain and open ourselves to that energy whose nature is infinite knowledge, infinite bliss and infinite vision. We have only to turn our consciousness inward to connect with life. It is our sharana, our wellspring, our reserve strength, our invisible refuge, which will not exhaust itself at any time.
If you are able to connect with this source, then you are not helpless, for you are protected from within. As soon as you start knowing this protection, you start lifting yourself. The sinking boat begins to float.
Use this meditation as the young monk Anatha and King Bimbisara did. Take time to go on watching and pondering. Whenever fear comes, ask, "Why am I afraid? What is this anxiety? What is the cause of the fear? The cause is that I am not connected to my invisible world."
Build inner strength and power by connecting to the invisible world of these vibrations. Chant aloud or silently the entire mantra as follows.
Cattari Mangalam are the Four Blessings .
Arihanta Conquerers of inner weaknesses are blessing.
Siddha Mangalum Perfect Souls are blessing.
Sahu Mangalum Saints are blessing.
Kevali Pannato Dhammo The Teaching which has come from the Omniscient
Mangalum Ones is blessing.
Cattari Loguttama These Four are supreme, unsurpassed.
Arihanta Loguttama Arihanta are supreme.
Siddha Loguttama Siddha are supreme.
Sahu Loguttama Saints are supreme.
Kevali Pannato Dhammo The Teaching which has come from the Omniscient
Loguttamo Ones is supreme.
Cattari Sharanum Pavajjami These are the four protections
Arihante Sharanum Pavajjami I go to the protection of the
Arihanta.
Siddhe Sharanum Pavajjami I go to the protection of the siddha.
Sahu Sharanum Pavajjami I go to the protection of the sahu.
Kevali Pannatum Dhammum I merge with the Pure Teaching- Non-violence,
Sharanum Pavajjami Peace, Love, Love, Compassion.
When your small self merges with these four protections, the Higher Self, your reality, emerges.
SEED_THOUCHTS FOR MEDITATION
I am becoming aware of unprotectedness. One by one, I see that the things and persons on whom I depend are themselves helpless.
Let me turn my consciousness away from the temporary dependencies and connect with the pure stream of life which is prevailing. Merging with that consciousness, I find my everlasting protection, my inner world.
Let me experience the eternity of life, the eternal flow. That one wave has come means another wave has subsided. Birth is nothing but somewhere else a death. So this is the process-- something merges so that something else may emerge.
FACET THREE: Liberation from the Cycle of Birth and Death
To make room in our heart for truth, we have to clear away the clutter of false thinking. For that we need guidance, reflections. With introspection, we are able to see what is real, genuine, lasting. Using our inner eye, we are able to come out from under the domination of distorted thinking.
Why do we live in a world of make-believe? Why do we create so many fantasies? To protect ourselves from fear. Why are we afraid? Because something in us knows that the mind is weak and has the nature to disintegrate. The mind tends to scatter and jump from subject to subject, from form to form. Subconsciously, it has fear of its own decomposition .
In order not to be diffused or disintegrated, the mind seeks protection--in the husband and wife, lover and beloved, parent and savior. It relaxes under this false sense of security. It does not realize that this kind of outer protection is merely a prop. In search of some kind of shelter, we create a fence around ourselves. We may call this fence love, but in reality it is attachment. It is attachment covered up and decorated with beautiful outer wrappings of papery-thin love.
In each person's life the time comes when the mind scatters like a castle of cards. It stands firm so long as a gust of wind does not blow it down. When the reality of a crisis strikes, mind dips down. You feel depressed rejected, and lonely. Life appears dismal and dark. You experience a state of hopelessness.
Wise people know that the shelter created by fantasy and outside props will not last. This kind of shelter is too fragile. What to do when you are again out in the open naked, and without a roof over your head?
That is why we meditate on the bhavanas. They are a preparation. We build inner muscles with our awareness. Just as an athlete builds his muscles lifting weights, we build our inner strength with special tools. These tools are reflections, meaningful words, and insights.
You prepare yourself to know how to stand alone. And when you really know how to stand alone, you are all one. You have only to go into the depth of aloneness to know the meaning of all-oneness.
Not everyone is ready to do this. These facets are given only to those who are ready. Truth is dazzling. It has so much brilliance that weak eyes are not able to stand it. In the face of that brilliance, those with weak eyes do one of two things--either they turn away and change direction, or they cover their eyes with dark glasses .
But there are those who do want to see the truth. They say, "Let us see what may come." And ultimately what appears bitter turns out to be sweet honey. As you go on building inner strength, when the time comes for the support to go away, you won't tumble down.
Those who are eager to face truth reflect on the difference between attachment and love. In reflection, they see that attachment always comes with demands or conditions. Those who know how to stand back can notice it. Using their insight, they ask themselves, "Is what I am calling love really attachment thriving under the shelter of beautiful words? Do I have any demand on the person whom I love? Is it a kind of bargain? Is it a business?"
When we put love in the category of business, it is not love. In business, we see where we get profit. There is no feeling of giving, offering, accepting, only seeing who gets more. Both parties are watching out for themselves. If this is the case in a relationship, then are we not deluding ourselves?
So when you understand this truth, you understand your relationships. Your awareness becomes different. Your perception changes. You know how to give- space, how to give room. Relationships become sweeter, more meaningful. Then the other party starts learning from you. Love is vast. When you encompass that vastness, then you love all. When you love all, then you really love the one whom you love.
It may not happen overnight. It is a slow movement, a gradual growth, not an instant answer or a temporary satisfaction. You need to have patience. My teacher told me: "First you have to learn how to stand on the ground of reality, of truth. That ground has no route. You have to make your own track. It's a vast territory before you. All directions are open. So don't tread the well-worn path. That only becomes a rut. Select your way over fresh open ground. Then you will be making a new track, fresh footprints. "
Feel the newness. Tell yourself, "I am taking each step according to my insight." You can do it when you have faith in your feet and trust in your strength.
The third facet on which to reflect is called samsara, which means to move constantly up and down, down and up, in a smooth, circular, and rhythmical motion, like a Ferris wheel. It is a continuous process. When a person is motivated by greed for pleasure and power, he gets caught up in this perpetual motion and ends up where he began, like an ox circling around a treadmill. But the person with awareness of the purposeful direction of life can use each turn of the wheel for moving forward into evolution, for freeing himself from the need to rush after things which are on the periphery of life. So what is a cause of bondage to one can be used as a cause of freedom to another; it depends on the depth of one's understanding and approach. That is why this bhavana teaches the aspirant to watch the Ferris wheel of life, but not to identify with it.
We have all heard of prosperous famous families whose children lose everything and are forgotten. We have also observed those who, according to worldly standards, were "nobody" become "somebody." This wheel is always turning. It is an endless cycle. Sometimes we have days in which life is heavenly. Sometimes we have days in which life feels like a hell. The person you greet in the morning is not the same by evening. There are so many fluctuations in moods.
So the initiates watch the Ferris wheel. They see that the down will not remain down. It will go up. It will go on. Through watching, the initiate learns not to take the downs and ups seriously. "It is the wheel which is moving, not me," he observes. "I am sitting in the same seat. What is going up and down is the wheel, but I am here --steady . "
Once you have this experience, you will see the game of life. The seriousness, the rejection, the clouds which cover your inner peace will be gone. And you will start enjoying life. Wherever you are and whomever you are with you experience and enjoy.
In this way, you slowly free yourself from identifying with the ups and downs of samsara. The wheel is always moving smoothly in order to bring change. With your awareness, you observe how it is moving purposefully to bring something beautiful, something fresh for you. The motion of the wheel is giving you a challenge. Without change, life becomes stagnant. If there is no test, there is no progress.
By identifying with the changeless beneath all the changes, you are transcending them. In this way, you experience the purpose of samsara--to transform your-self from lower to higher, and ultimately to reach moksha, complete freedom from the cycle of birth and death.
In meditating on this bhavana, we observe our whole cycle. We say, "When I was born, my mother was in pain, crying. Then she saw my face and was happy. The pain was gone." What the mother suffered for nine months was gone in one minute. At the same time, we look at those close to us in our lives- -a brother, sister, parent, or partner--and see that some have gone and some are still here. The dearest people whom we love and who love us come and go. They don't remain permanently. The people who hate and are hated also come and go. This is the Ferris wheel; this is the process.
The reflection continues in this way: "Why do I only think of others? I also will go. I will move on, and when I do, I will separate from others as others have separated from me. So why am I upset when others depart? I too will depart. Perhaps I don't think of that because of the mental fright it causes."
But the aspirant is not frightened. His mind is not shattered at the prospect of his own departure. Why? Because he or she is completely convinced that what is
permanent is not going to become impermanent. And what is impermanent is not going to become permanent. Each has its own nature. The seeker knows, "What I have at the center of myself is permanent. Only the house, the place, the dress, the form, will change. They are the persona, the mask, but the individual flame that I am, does not change."
What confidence to know that! When it happens, for the first time you are realizing the difference between the husk and the grain. You see how deeply you have identified the grain with the husk. You observe how you have seen your own friends in this fixed, static light--as their persona instead of their essence.
If we relate only to the persona of an individual, the friendship is shallow. It is built on material gain. The person with a spiritual outlook sees things from a different vantage point. He sees that those things on which he once placed so much value are not truly valuable. They are tokens for use in a certain period, in a certain place. If you take a subway token to Russia, it cannot be used. It is meant to be used here. Similarly, the things of the world are to be used as tokens; they take you from one place to another. Beyond that they have no meaning.
Friendship based on the spiritual level remains permanent. Why? Because it has an inner connection, above and beyond its outside connection. In The Last Days of Pompeii, a volcano was about to erupt. An old man of greed and covetousness had jewels and gold coins hidden away in his house. There was scarcely enough time for him to run for his life; nevertheless, he went back to take his box of jewels. It was heavy, and his son, who was also greedy, said,
"Father, let me carry the box for you. It is too heavy and you will not be able to run fast."
The old man did not trust his son even during that last moment. And the son became impatient and struck his father with a stick, grabbed the box, and ran. At that moment, the volcano erupted and the whole village was buried, father and son as well. Their relationship was superficial, based on need and greed. Their mutual protection was only to get material gain.
So become a spectator. See how the rich become poor, the young become old, the great become small. It is a joy to watch. The ornament changes but the gold remains.
Observe your form. It is beautiful. See who is in the center of your form, who animates all this. Who gives feeling to the body, allowing it to sense and to feel? Who gives voice to the throat and taste to the tongue? Who gives the sense of smell to the nose? Who gives light and sight to the eyes and hearing to the cars? Who gives awareness to the mind? When you realize that you are the one animating all your senses, you will stop accepting false beliefs and outside supports. You will have persuaded your doorkeeper mind to open the door and let you in--to see your own reality. Once you experience this changeless center of yourself, you exclaim, " That reality is here! That reality is I!"
Now you watch the circumference from the center. You observe life from that point which views all points. You are in a state of equanimity. You are not caught up with each turn of the wheel. In this way, you are free, not from past karmas which continue to move the wheel of samsara round and round, but from the ignorance which formerly made you cling to the changing elements themselves. Freed from
the swings of mood, you glimpse the real freedom of moksha. 2
With this glimpse, you have the power to use your will to make decisions, to change what you want to change, even to heal your body. You know that you have at your disposal the energy which is your life force itself. It is the energy which animates this body, its senses and brain. Knowing it in your meditative experience, with patience and persistent practice you can mobilize this energy to erase your karmas and stop the cycle of birth and rebirth. With awareness, you can change wrong kinds of eating, thinking, and living. You can get rid of heavy negative vibrations which you have absorbed and which have turned into mental disturbance or physical disease. For one who realizes how such vibrations came and how they can be removed, the process of self- healing can be accelerated .
There is a story of a woman whose husband was constantly gambling and getting drunk. He used to come home late at night, knock on the door, and wait for his wife to open it. She would do so at whatever hour he came home. Always she remained peaceful, patient.
Eventually, he grew tired of his own vices and ran away. After five years, with spoiled health, he returned home. His wife had known that one day he would. Mean-while, during the five years in which he had been absent, she had not lost her peace nor had she turned to vices herself. She had used her time to build her inner muscles.
She was so strong that the evening he returned and stood at the door, she only said, "Come in, please!" He could not believe that after five years, after having run away, he could be hearing these gentle words. Then she said, "You must be hungry. Have some dinner."
Hearing these sweetly spoken words, he began to melt inside. He started to cry. The tears kept on rolling down his cheeks. Gently his wife said, "Have I not told you--you are not bad. It was the company you kept. And don't these tears show that the core of your heart is good and soft?" He felt like bowing at her feet. "I have heard about saints," he said, "but if I had not seen you, I would never have believed. Now I know that I have no need to go away again." He then began moving forward into a purposeful life.
It is knowing your permanent reality which gives meaning to life. So meditate on your evolution and unite the world with your deep understanding of this. Let your real essence emerge and let outer superficiality melt away. This ground of truth has many routes; you create your own track. To reach your reality and feel your freedom, take a step which is full of positive feeling, radiant with light, and vibrant with awareness.
SEED-THOUGHTS FOR MEDITATION
The evermoving is a continuous cycle of change, moving in a smooth and rhythmic motion. I am in the center, steady, aware.
Let me watch the circumference from the center. Let me observe the kaleidoscope of changes from that point which views all points.
Each turn of the wheel can be either a cause of my bondage or a cause of my freedom. With awareness, I can use each turn as a challenge, to free myself from karmas, to bring out transformation, to feel new life, and to lead me closer to my reality.
FACET FOUR: FREEDOM from Dependency
Most people go through their lives not knowing what they want, yet sure that they did not get it. Because of that, they are sour and bitter. They go on grumbling even though they really do not know what they want. It appears a bit silly, but think of it. When you fall into a depressed frame of mind and someone asks you, "Why are you unhappy?" do you find the right cause of your unhappiness? Or do you start blaming something in general?
Let us probe this further. What is the real cause of unhappiness? Are outside things really deluding or tempting in themselves? Do they have the innate capacity to harass us or allure us? Or is it our addiction to them which makes us see them in that way?
It is our addiction which makes us blame outside things which, if we look closely, are themselves only things. We want to go beyond the blaming, beyond the addiction, beyond all these limiting conditions. That is our quest. We will not be satisfied with superficial answers or with a temporary boost. Genuine seekers do not spend their time in search of a mere "high." They know that like soda water when it is shaken, a temporary "high" will fall back down to the same state.
That is why we want to see both--the real and the
unreal, our essence and our addictions. The genuine teachers and teachings take us into the depth of reality and help us understand the nature of addiction. They encourage us to ask ourselves, "What is addiction? How have we built addictions around us? In what ways have we identified with them? Without them, does our life seem empty, miserable, and helpless?"
In order to see clearly, we meditate on the fourth facet, ekatva. Ekatva means One, and you have so many in your mind. Because of bahutva, or multiplicity, you don't see that One. Around that One everything is circling.
We can think of it in this way: We have a circumference and a center. The center is one, but on the circumference there are many. The circumference is so big and obvious that we don't have the insight to see the subtle center. That is why we are always moving on the circumference, outside of ourselves.
That is why we look for some scapegoat to blame. We like to pin our unhappiness on some-body, saying, "If you were not in my life, my life would be heaven." Or we say it the other way around. "If you were in my life, my life would be heaven."
The circumference plays such an elusive role that one loses sight of the center. One must see that the whole circumference is made for the center, that if there were no center, a circumference could not exist.
See yourself for a while, looking from the center to the circumference. Until now your mind has been engaged twenty- four hours a day with bahutva, the circumference. Always somebody or something has been there engaging your mind-- money, power, possessions, a friend, or a foe. That is why you are never completely with yourself. Even when you do sit down to be alone with yourself, even in that moment, something is there to distract you.
You act as though there were nothing in the center, as though everything were on the outside.
The tangible world does exist. It is the material half of our existence. In it we have trust. The problem arises when, instead of accepting this material world for what it is, we become obsessed by it. Then we neglect the invisible world. If something is not visible or tangible, then we don't have trust in it.
But we must open our minds and see that the visible depends upon the invisible. If there were no invisible, the visible would have no meaning. If there were no intangible, the tangible would have no feeling. The tangible cannot be felt without the intangible. The tangible is dear to us precisely because there is the intangible at the center of it.
Take, for example, a woman who wins first prize in a beauty contest. In all nations she becomes recognized as a universal beauty. Seeing her beauty, many people will want to marry her. They do not think of the soul inside this beautiful body. But one day her soul will leave its house. Her body will lie lifeless, and then even those who do not believe in soul will not be willing to marry her. Everything is still there--the eyes, ears, limbs, and shapes.
Why is it that now this tangible, visible body no longer has any attraction? Something surely has gone from it! The breath has gone. But who was operating the breath? Who was inhaling and exhaling? Who was in the center of that breath? Do you know? I tell you that is what you have to come to know. When you meditate on this, you will discover the intangible which makes this tangible body living, pleasant, acceptable, and social.
When you see something in you beyond the physical aspect, your life will become very meaningful. You will begin to appreciate your human beingness. You will change your attitude toward other people. You will not see only the physical body.
You will stop relating to people as objects. Your relationship will be that of the subject. Now you see someone only as an object and you do not feel oneness with the individual. When you see someone as the subject, you see the "I," the one who is.
When you experience "I am," you are living in your consciousness. There is no duality. As soon as you say "I want," desire begins. From desire comes the object. Now you are separating from the world. Out of the two, "I" and "want," a third thing comes, "the world"; "I want the world." This trinity is born from duality. The world out there is born every time you separate from the subject, your center, "I." As soon as you are out of your consciousness, duality is there, the world is there.
Ekatva means to realize ultimately "I am," not "I want." It means to break the concept of duality and be oneself. When you bring the whole world into "being," life merges into one flow. Then there is no manifestation of otherness, only oneness.
If you keep that essence in awareness, then seeing what you see does not create duality. You are not seeing someone or something through the eyes of wanting or judging. Rather, you see as if you were seeing in a mirror. The person whom you used to see as an object is now the subject, the same as you. You see the reflection equal to you, no less, no more. The reflection is not different from what you are.
Once there was an artist. He decided to put pieces of mirror all around his room, on the ceiling and on the walls, so that they would reflect the one light which was in his room. And it was his joy to sit and watch the reflected lights. By chance his dog entered the room. Not being able to understand that the dogs he saw in the mirrors were his own reflections, he started barking at what he viewed as rivals. He saw so many other dogs, and he could not stop barking. Eventually he became exhausted and collapsed. The poor dog saw the many reflections only as rivals biting and jumping at him. In this way, he created duality.
See the world as a reflection of your own desires. Remove your desires and only see. Do not bark. When you see yourself as the seer, the world merges in your awareness.
This is one insight. It is difficult to explain, but when you feel it, it makes you equal to all. Then it does not make any difference to you if you are with a rich man or a poor man, a prince or a pauper. It does not create any fluctuation in your mind. Why not? Because you now have a new perception. What you see in you is in him. His "I" and your "I" are the same in quality, pure Atma.
If you see in terms of "less" and "more," then you will see a common man as less and a friend with a high post as more. When you see another as object instead of subject, he who has more things is seen as a rich object and he who has fewer things is seen as a poor object. This kind of relationship, which we notice so often, is an objective relationship. And that kind of relationship is maintained only so long as certain things are there. When those things are no longer there, the relationship is over. Why? Because the dependency in the relationship is on outside things.
This reflection brings a new way of thinking. Starting with yourself, say, "Ekatva, I am One. I came as One into the world. Traveling alone and floating from the universe, I entered some sweet mother's womb and there I rested to grow.
In this way you go beyond and see how you came alone. At that time nobody knew you. You were a stranger. You did not have any address, acquaintance, or letter of recommendation. You had nothing.
All of us came alone in a small vehicle, in a microscopic form--a sperm and egg. At that time we had no equipment. Now we have so much equipment with which to see, express, speak, and move. But at the outset of this life, we entered in a small body, our vehicle. That's all!
At that time who was there? For whom were you crying? Now you are crying for so many things, but then you were crying for one--to take a deep breath! That was your first need. You cried, you breathed, and all the body processes started working. The first thing you could feel was the heart beating.
Go on working with the thought, "I came as One," and you will know how to stand on your own feet. Tears handicap your vision when you cry, "I can't live without you! I can't live without this or that!" It is all mental addiction . You have lived without them ! You came alone! At that time you wanted only breath and some-thing to sustain the body. So you can live without them now !
The idea behind this meditation is to make an individual strong to stand on his or her own. In this way, the person will not lean on anyone or become a burden to someone. The
point is not to separate you from the world, but to make you a healthy person. When you build your inner muscles, your mind becomes sound and vigorous. You realize you can be alone.
From the moment you came into the world, you started unfolding that invisible through the visible.
And the unfolding brings out so many qualities. Take the seed of any plant. It is so insignificant-looking. When it unfolds, sprouts up, and brings out a beautiful flower, then we realize that beauty was hidden in that tiny yellow, white, or black seed. At the beginning, we do not pay much attention to the seed, but when the seed uncovers its whole beauty, we notice it. In the same way, this invisible soul has had from beginningless time all this beauty. Now it is unfolding through human life.
According to the seed, the form is created. The quality of the seed determines the result, its blossoming. That is why, if we have the seed of a rose, then a rose flower comes. If we plant the seed of a mango, the seed will open its heart and turn into a delicious mango. When an apple seed grows, apples come. But you don't see the apples and mangoes when you first look at those small black seeds. Yet in your awareness, you can know that they hold unique qualities.
So meditate on that tiny beginning of yours. Go back and see, "I came alone, there was joy, no fear, no addiction.
You will be surprised to know that the more addictions you have, the sooner old age comes. The fewer addictions, the more youthful you remain. People wither because of their tensions and worries.
Watch yourself when you are on a vacation. You feel fresh. Why? You don't have any demands, any pulls. Demands and addictions corrode you. You think you are getting something by continuing with them, but really you are decaying inside.
That is why wise people don't have addictions to so many things. Once there was a wise man who lived in a big house. But his house was empty. One evening, some thieves came. "What to do?" the wise man thought.
Thieves don't have any sense, and when they find out that I don't have anything for them to take, they will be angry. They may try to harm me."
So he opened his only cupboard, which was empty, and hid himself inside. The thieves came and looked about. They found nothing. When they noticed the cup-board, they opened it. They saw the old man standing there.
"Why are you hiding yourself from us?" they asked.
"What to answer?" he thought. Then he said, "I am hiding from you because of shame."
"What is your shame?" they asked him.
"Sirs," he answered, "there is nothing in this house to present to you. I am ashamed to have nothing to offer to you guests. So I thought I must hide."
The thieves laughed. "Yes," they said, "you are a wise man because you don't have anything."
"Yes," answered the wise man, "if you have some-thing, you have worry. If you don't have anything, what worry can you have?"