Ch. 18, Verses 53-55
The following is a talk I gave to my Gita satsangh in May of 2006. We have been meeting twice a month for years in order to read and discuss the Bhagavad Gita. This is the first new article I have placed on this webpage in several years.
We are coming to the end of our long study over many years of the Bhagavad Gita, and I wish to reflect on what this study has done for me, from a practical point of view. This includes not just the study itself but also the spiritual practice based on the study, meager though it may be. My strong feeling is that all of these scriptures are useless to us unless they make a difference in our actual life. Therefore, I may expand a bit beyond the actual verses I am supposed to discuss tonight, but fortunately the verses are suitable for this purpose. I will begin with some general remarks before getting to the verses.
The first point to emphasize is that spiritual progress means neither thunderbolts from the sky nor permanent ecstasy in the brain. For a few this may happen, but for most of us the vasanas (our habitual tendencies) remain very powerful, long after we have started to take the first few steps along the spiritual path.
However, I think it is wrong to gauge oneself against the ultimate state, or to worry too much about one's imperfection, as is common in other religions such as Christianity and Islam. Rather, I subscribe to Ramana Maharshi's positive recommendation that
Even if one be a great sinner, one should not worry and weep 'O! I am a sinner, how can I be saved?'; one should completely renounce the thought 'I am a sinner'; and concentrate keenly on meditation on the Self; then, one would surely succeed.
The Zen Buddhist says something similar when he insists that we already enlightened. The Advaitin would say that we are already Brahman but do not know it. Dwelling too much on one's imperfections only nourishes the ego-sense and resulting illusion.
Indeed, the main problem is not so much sin or imperfection as ignorance of our true nature, whether you call it Brahman, Pure Consciousness, Emptiness, or whatever. It is a fundamental paradox of Vedanta (or at least Advaita) that we are always Brahman, but the mere thought that we are not obscures the realization. This obscuring thought can take the form of egoism, but it can also take the form of self-deprecation, which can lead to frustration and depression, which are no more satvic (illuminating) than is arrogance. It is best to let go of all such thoughts and obscurations and allow the underlying pure consciousness to manifest of its own accord. If what we are studying has an iota of truth, then we can have faith that the underlying illuminated state of consciousness, our true being, will manifest once the disturbances of the mind are allowed to dissipate like smoke by simply letting go of them. This is the fundamental message of Advaita and seems implicit in the Gita, as I will discuss. It also suggests a 'lazy man's' path to realization, which I sorely need.
Now I would like to make a claim which may sound arrogant or obnoxious if I do not choose my words judiciously. During a rare few moments of meditation, it seems that such a pure and illuminated state of consciousness has broken through for a brief moment, like a shaft of sunbeams through the dark storm clouds of the mind. There was happiness, perhaps even bliss, but one cannot (and should not) say that anything grandiose happened. Rather, it would be much better to describe those brief moments as pure, luminous, subtle, spacious, natural, simple, refreshing and carefree. Furthermore, an interesting aftereffect occurred, namely that my nervous system continued to feel refreshed for some time afterward, like awakening from a good sleep.
Indeed, sleep is a key aspect here. The illuminating moments happen when the mind manages to quiet down without going to sleep. Or perhaps one could say that one remains awake while falling asleep. Swamiji has said several times that this is a good description of the realized state, so I know I am on firm ground. I think this state can also be compared to a lake, which becomes a shining mirror of the sky, when it is no longer ruffled by the winds of the mind. We reach such a state in deep sleep, when even the dream-mind has subsided, and consciousness is very close to the unitary state of pure Brahman, except for one serious problem: the deep sleep state is one of ignorance so that realization cannot occur. Again, this is Swamiji's teaching rather than my own idea, though I may have misinterpreted it.
The trick of meditation and of spiritual practice, as I see it, is to achieve such a state of mental quiescence while remaining fully awake and conscious. Then the light of Brahman shines forth as it truly is, without being distorted by the ego-driven turbulence the mind. Unfortunately, I often find it difficult to resist drowsiness and sleep when meditating, but that is my problem and not yours.
So much for meditation. As for day to day living, I will simply say that I make an effort to be the sakshi or 'detached witnessed' at all times. I try to witness all activities of the world, body, and mind without getting engrossed or involved. For example, this means not taking anything personally, when someone is not as nice to me as I would like. I cannot stay in this state for more than a brief moment at a time, and faintly at that, but I try to gently bring it back as soon as I remember to. It seems that slowly over time I am learning to be in a calmer state, where life goes by like a movie on a screen, one of Swamiji's and Ramana's favorite analogies. Of course, if something drastic happens, like banging my head, or getting cut off in traffic, I may get upset for a moment. As I said, it is foolish to pretend that one can overcome one's human nature quickly. Fortunately, progress is made easier by the fact that it is actually possible for consciousness to split in two, with one part getting swept up in life, while another part remains detached and observes. This is like the two birds in the Shwetasvatara Upanishad, one who eats the berries (or bitter fruit) of life, and the other who observes the bird eating the berries.
So much for my experience. The relevance to the verses is clear, and can be dealt with quickly. (Note: Translation by Ramanand Prasad.)
After relinquishing egotism, violence, pride, lust, anger, and proprietorship; one becomes peaceful, free from the notion of "I, me, and my", and fit for attaining oneness with the Supreme Being. (18.53)
This repeats what I said, that one's natural state of Brahman is realized once the ego-driven mental disturbances have subsided. Then peace arises, and a peaceful consciousness is already close to the state of Brahman. My only innovation is to suggest that even an ordinary person with weak satvic vasanas can still experience a tiny taste of this from time to time in meditation. It may be a mere speck compared to the blissful infinitude of the ultimate state, but we should appreciate it as something positive and avoid self-defeating comparisons. It only stands to reason that if our true state is Brahman, then even a little peace of mind should allow a bit of Brahman to manifest. We should then pursue our sadhana without misgivings and the seed of Brahman will slowly grow like a tree.
Absorbed in the Supreme Being, the serene one neither grieves nor desires; becoming impartial to all beings, one obtains the highest devotional love for God. (18.54)
As I said, I have indeed become more impartial towards others. I used to be overly sensitive and take things personally, but I have largely outgrown this. I am sure I was helped by meditation and my study of Vedanta. Also, even though I am known as a critic of Islamic and Christian fundamentalism, I try to observe them in a detached manner as poisonous ideologies, much as a doctor observes a disease. I try to avoid hating the human victims of these poisonous ideologies, who must suffer themselves from their condition, as well as making others suffer.
By devotion one truly understands what and who I am in essence. Having known Me in essence, one immediately merges with Me. (See also 5.19) (18.55)
Devotion arises naturally when the happiness of the pure state is experienced. If we feel happiness, then we love that happiness. The Vedantin says that it is devotion to one's Self, which is entirely different from egoism. Those religions which understand devotion as submission to God are misguided and often turn religion into something harmful for themselves and others. All true happiness comes from within, like a spring of water from the ground. We can see this in children, who can be happy with the simplest games, or with nothing at all, because their minds are still pure. This inner source of happiness is called the Atman. When this is experienced, Brahman is tasted directly, and one cannot resist merging with it, as one merges with one's beloved. The difficult task is to get to the point where we feel some inner happiness, without getting distracted by the world. Then that happiness can serve as a lure to lead us further on the spiritual path. That is why it is essential to appreciate whatever small results we may have achieved from our feeble meditation and spiritual practice.
In summary, the study of Hindu scriptures means nothing to me unless they provide some tangible benefit in my life. I believe this benefit has occurred in a small but significant way, which agrees with the scriptures. The importance of the scriptures is to inform us that true and permanent happiness can be found in a quiet and egoless state, when the grasping and restless mind is allowed to subside. This can be verified in meditation, even if only in a brief and occasional flash. It would probably never occur to us that the bliss of Brahman is hidden deep within. On the contrary, our natural tendency is to seek pleasure by stimulating our brains and tickling our nerves, to use the words of Swami Advayananda. This can be seen, for example, in our addiction to turning on the television, an addiction which has also considerably diminished in my daily habits. Now I should concentrate on diminishing my sweet tooth, but that's a tough one.