10/1/13
Verse 33
Knowledge,
to know its own nature here,
has
become earth and the other elements;
spiraling
up, back and turning round,
like
a glowing twig it is ever turning.
Free
translation:
As when a burning ember is twirled in a figure-eight movement
and produces endless patterns, knowledge, in order to know its own potentials,
modifies itself into endless eidetic modes, like earth and all such, and
creates the phenomenal flux.
Nataraja
Guru’s:
Awareness, in order to find its proper state,
Itself the earth and other manifestations became;
In inverted state thus, now mounting, now changing over
Like a circulating fire-faggot it keeps turning round.
Verse
33 presents an achingly beautiful visual image, and one with deep roots in
human history. Somewhere on Earth a group of humans sits around a campfire in
the dark, with showers of sparks roaring up and flaming out. As they merge into
a deeply meditative state, mesmerized by the play of light, one picks up a
stick that has an end in the fire and begins to whirl it around. Everyone is
entranced as the glowing tip creates patterns in the blackness that seem to
take on a life of their own. Their attention is captured by the afterimages,
rather than their cause, their source, that continuously and playfully emits
shape after shape.
The
burning ember leaves a memorable mark in the air—actually in our mind’s
eye—that lingers awhile before disappearing without a trace. Such is our hour
upon the stage, a tale told by an idiot indeed, the airy nothing that takes on
a local habitation and a name, as the Bard would have it.
In
Nitya’s commentary he translates the burning ember to the tip of a pen, in
which case the afterimages can last for a very long time, as in the great
writings of humanity’s treasury of wisdom. In any case, the meaning is derived
from what we make of the afterimages, combined with the infinitesimal actuality
of their cause.
Each
moment bursts from a point source, expands into all this, and then gradually
fades away. But the source is “ever turning,” producing experience after
experience. It is the fleeting eternal Now, pursued by the Merry Pranksters of
the game of life, yet our entire structural constitution is aimed at analyzing
its aftermath, so we may get close but then some notable aspect catches our
attention and we are hurled into the past again, boats against the current.
Remaining in the creativity of the Now turns out to be supremely challenging.
Mick
talked about his work in martial arts to discover the “one-point” at the center
of the torso, the point of balance of the body. When grounded in the one-point,
a martial artist (or dancer, or athlete) acts effortlessly in balance, but when
he allows himself to be drawn out of it by reacting fearfully or otherwise
prejudicially, his actions will be chaotic and unharmonious. It’s an apt
metaphor, and everyone saw the relation to the present verse. Many people do
physical posturing practices to help with their balance. Still, I couldn’t help
recalling a paragraph from Verse 29:
We
say, “Close your eyes and look deep into yourself.” What depth—the stomach? Is
that all the depth there is in us? Physically we are not very profound—most of
us anyway—but when we look deep into ourselves spiritually we see a real depth
which has no end. When we say “sublime heights” we are not thinking of the sky.
Within our own spirit we see a sublimity which soars high. You can spread out
the wings of your imagination and soar like a lark into that unknown realm. So
we need symbols like these only to gain the new dimensions of mind that we
seek. Once you catch on they are no longer necessary.
We
have arrived at another of the peak moments sprinkled throughout the Hundred
Verses of Self-Instruction. Verse 34 likens the moving ember to our whole life,
and Verse 35 describes the experience of oneness with the present moment, if we
can penetrate through the swirling phantom sparks to discern their cause: like
ten-thousand suns flooding our dim consciousness with such light that we are
unable to attend to anything else. Our normal persona melts in the intensity,
and we are transfigured: free to start anew, to construct a much better cloak
to wear. Some—the Ramana Maharshis and Narayana Gurus—even succeed in remaining
clothed forever after in only the suns themselves. They are “sun-clad,” and
what people see of them is merely their own projection. But most of us wind up
constructing a new persona out of an amalgam of our history and the new
awareness, which is both interesting and perilous.
It’s
interesting because we can begin to take in some of the richness of the
universe, instead of simply viewing our retreaded imagery about it. The peril is that the ego is never far off, and loves
nothing more than to conscript transcendent experiences to its personal glory.
That’s why we have hitched our stars to a wise teacher who will help us avoid
that all too familiar pitfall. Verses 36-41 teach how the ego can find its
rightful place in spiritual life. Having an ego is fine, it just needs to be
constrained to its proper role. Doing away with the ego (the #1 spiritual
cliché) is fraught with grave danger. Narayana Guru says we should tame it, not
kill it.
Synchronicity
continues apace. Just by “accident” I was sent an article this week on a new
geometry that radically simplifies quantum mechanics: https://www.simonsfoundation.org/quanta/20130917-a-jewel-at-the-heart-of-quantum-physics/
. One of its major implications is that time and space, among other things, are
not real, but are merely constructs we have devised to make sense of the welter
of mystery in which we find ourselves. Nitya reminds us here that dedicated
souls have known that all along:
In our study of Atmopadesa
Satakam, we have learned how
to go beyond time, space, names and forms. When considered from this
perspective, the Self is beginningless and endless. It is not confined to any
form or name. In spite of having no special attributes, every attribute that we
can give to conscious life is part and parcel of it.
Nitya’s commentary also anticipates the discovery, some
fifteen years later, of mirror neurons, which seems to confirm the idea that
the brain models its selected input in a kind of internal theater. Input per se
is like a vast cloud of static, but the dear old brain converts the static into
a coherent picture which makes sense to us. Nitya writes:
All our philosophy, history,
poetry and even art have passed through the tip of a pen. Like that, this whole
universe which we see, with all its vastness, is the composition and
organization coming from our own individual consciousness. No one else sees for
us or knows for us. Even what are considered to be the experiences of other
people have to be recycled and made our own before we can truly know them.
It turns out that this is precisely how our brain works.
It’s not a metaphor. We really do model the world in our mind’s eye, and that’s
what our conscious mind perceives, not the original. The keen insights of
contemplative rishis are at long last being confirmed by the tool-assisted
observations of neuroscientists. In case you’ve missed it, I’ll add some
background on mirror neurons in Part III.
The
key implication of mirror neurons for a spiritual aspirant is that our
prejudices and opinions pervert the purity of the model we make of reality. We
shape our imagery according to our learned limitations. Unless we subtract our
personal obsessions from the models we construct, we are seeing what we believe
rather than what actually is. The reason we perform self-examination is to root
out these veiling tendencies so we can produce a more accurate model and
thereby see more clearly. This is the opposite of religion, or any kind of
dogmatism for that matter, where belief is the filter that is more or less
intentionally erected to screen out anything that doesn’t match our petty
preferences. The ego wants very badly to believe its perversions are just the
way things are, but Narayana Guru has convinced us (if we didn’t suspect it
before) that the ego is wrong about this, and we have to reform ourselves in
order to recover some degree of honesty. And we can’t do it alone. We need
help.
The
theory is that we increase our chances of a breakthrough when we pare away our
psychological blindnesses, and even without a breakthrough we are still much
better off.
Again,
this is a preeminently important concept, and much will be made of it in the
upcoming verses. We may believe we are simply screening out undesirable elements
of the environment, but we are actually constraining ourself, condemning
ourself to a limited and, yes! false interpretation of reality. This course is
for those who won’t permit themselves to accept falsehood for truth.
As
the class quieted down and prepared for a closing meditation, there was
universal agreement that this seemingly simple verse packed a tremendous
impact. It implies that we can deconstruct our false self and rebuild it in a
much healthier way. If we are the universe’s way of seeing itself, shouldn’t we
dedicate ourselves to that high ideal? That turns out to be the best
contribution we can make to the world we live in. It recalls my favorite quote
from Teilhard de Chardin, “The history of the living world can be summarized as
the elaboration of ever more perfect eyes within a cosmos in which there is always
something more to be seen.” And despite the newfound fatalism of modern
science, we can evolve here and now—we are the agents of our own evolution.
Let’s bow out with Nitya’s beautiful closing words:
This is one of the greatest
miracles of life, that the very creator whom we praise for having made all this
universe is still sitting here and creating the very nucleus of our own being.
Your nucleus and the nucleus of the universe are not two. When you attain that
identity in every moment of your daily life, you become the centerpiece of the
universe; your actions, your ideas and your thoughts become the very thoughts,
ideas and variegations in the composition of your universe. This brings you to
an ultimate identity with the creating faculty. You are at once the Absolute
and the very many relatives within it. You are the one unconditional Being who
is also causing the many conditional states.
Part II
A
particularly excellent chapter of Neither
This Nor That But . . . Aum:
That
which shines by itself in the dark is the Self. It is pure knowledge. To the
seed lying asleep in the earth it whispers, “Wake up, there is water, salt and
nitrogen in the earth, enjoy them. Stretch your roots, there is a feast of
abundance around you. Oh, sprout, break the shell, pierce through the earth and
come out into the open sky. Feel the warmth and glory of the sun that comes day
after day, he is the nourisher of all life. You can breathe in carbon dioxide
and breathe out oxygen. Cook your food in your leaves in the sunlight by
processing the carbon dioxide. Like magic out of nowhere, you can increase your
girth. You can even open energy banks in the chlorophyll of the leaves, both
for you and for other living creatures. Thus, you can green the earth and be
the handmaid of Mother Nature to feed everyone.”
When
two members of the human species, a male and a female, bring their love to
consummation and millions of sperms run helter-skelter, this knowledge
stealthily opens the door of a single ovum and leads into it a chosen sperm to
begin the magical growth of an organism. Even the man and the woman, blinded by
their orgasmic ecstasy, have not the least idea of this grand manipulator who
is causing the beginning of a new beginning in a dark cell, nurtured in a dark
womb. Like a mathematical genius, the same knowledge computerizes the
duplication and replication of the cell with such ingenuity and skill that out
of an amorphous mucus emerges an ugly-looking fetus which will become a
blue-eyed or dark-eyed child soon to be as dear to its parents as a priceless
treasure.
The
same knowledge causes a whirl in itself, turns with great speed and produces a
vortex. Lo, it has become a galaxy of countless stars! Like restless eels, it
swirls in the depth of the ocean as hot and cold currents and provides the
earth with a temperate atmosphere that nurtures life.
The
same knowledge causes strange irritations in the synapses of the brain so that
a man picks up his pen and writes an epic like The Iliad and The Odyssey of
Homer or The Mahabharata of Vyasa. When it pleases it can create a Kalidasa or
a Shakespeare without the “paraphernalia” of a university. It has its own time
schedule to reveal scientific truths without making the error of bringing about
an Einstein before a Galileo. This knowledge puts into the human brain
mathematical equations which can guide the dexterity of human hands into
creating devices that can go from the earth not only to the planets of the solar
system, but also wander among the stars. It can take eternity to eternity and
suddenly smash everything as if nothing had ever occurred.
Think
of this vast universe with its starry heavens and the beautiful earth and no
human eyes to see it with, no mind to appreciate its enormity and beauty; what
a terrible waste it would be! A world without space and time, mass and energy,
colour and sound, fragrance and taste, and without the coordination which makes
chaos into cosmos!
In
short, there is only knowledge. That is the Self. That is the Oversoul. That is
God. That is Goodness. That is Truth. I am that. I am the eye of the world.
Only is is.
*
* *
Nataraja
Guru’s commentary:
ALL things as seen manifested are phenomenological events
in consciousness. The
phenomena themselves have a double origin psychically or physically. In terms of unitive
awareness the duality is reduced into vertical self-awareness instead of
being conceived as two
distinct functions in consciousness. Reflexive Self-knowledge is what, as neutral awareness
which is neither subjective nor objective, witnesses from a central position
both the events called perceptions as well as conceptions. The a priori and the
a posteriori thinking processes are events or chains of events in pure contemplative
consciousness which are capable of envisaging them both as part of one single
process.
If two opposite forces act on a particle of which the
negative one is considered as the cause of the positive one, we are able to
imagine, under such conditions, a circulation of thoughts in consciousness made
up of a chain of cause-effect links. The cause-effect links are monadic units
of thought which could be spoken of as sparks of light. Pushing the analogy
further, it would not be too far-fetched even to think of this fire as
circulating inasmuch as there is actually, as experienced by the contemplative,
a rising, a changing-over and a fall of thought-elements in keeping with a
certain inner order or law of thought in a living being. The pulsations of thought
are not static but dynamic and circulate within the amplitude of two poles, one
belonging to ‘matter’ and the other belonging to ‘mind’.
The ‘alata’ (faggot of fire circulated) analogy for the
phenomenological chain of events in consciousness, is a
very time-honoured one in
Vedantic literature, and brings the pulsations of thought-processes to somewhat the
same
picture as is
implicit in modern quantum mechanics. Poets have compared the pulsations of the
mind to the fire-fly, but the circulating fire-faggot is better in that the
successive positions of the luminous spark trace a continuous line instead of
an intermittent one. The mind has what Bergson would call a ‘cinematographic
action’ which makes discontinuous events seem continuous. The chain of events
could be treated as ‘kshanika’ (momentary), repeated instant after instant, or,
with the help of the mind, as a continuous unbroken process. The two ways are treated
complementarily by the Guru here.
The reference to the ‘inversion’ here is nothing more than a
corollary or consequence of the methodology which gives primacy to cause rather
than effect. The subtle inversion is implicit in the ‘sad-karana-vada’ which is part of
the correct methodology of Advaita Vedanta when understood as a science and not
merely as speculative metaphysical lore. (16)
(16) Bergson’s methodology envisages this ‘double correction’
principle, as we have explained at length in our later work, ‘An Integrated
Science of the Absolute’.
Part III
John
brought up an important dilemma:
But that’s the hardest thing in the world - staying in
the
creative moment, the enlightened moment, the total loving moment. I just can’t
find the button in my head
to push or a knob to turn like in a refrigerator to keep the setting where I
want it. Alas, I’m not a machine.
I suppose that the train my mind I have to commit to being something
like a machine where I can turn on and stay turned on or off, as the case may
be?
My
response:
Should you turn yourself into a programmed machine? Not at all!
In fact, quite the reverse! Although we have unbelievably excellent machinery
at our disposal, being is not a product of any machinery--the machinery is
rather the outcome of being: being projected into actuality. We can repair and
refine our machinery so as to disrupt beingness less, and it’s a delightful
ongoing creative project in its own right, but the real cure for being
dissatisfied is to bathe in being, to relax and let go into it. When we do that
it puts us in touch with our core creativity, which tends to be eminently
satisfying. And the more we familiarize ourselves with it, the longer we can
stay there. We only lament its transience when we’re on the outside, cut off
from our true being.
The
course of That Alone is intended to awaken our innate enthusiasm, which acts as
a natural and effortless “turn-on button” if you will. Unlike many spiritual
paths with their repetitive techniques, it is not at all mechanical. The minute
we try to force or manhandle our enthusiasm, it becomes something else
entirely: essentially an albatross, an excess burden. Nitya succinctly
summarizes our predicament here: “Being ceases precisely when a subject and its
objects arise.” He is presenting an excellent, dynamic conception of being so
that we might dare to take a break from subject/object dualism for a moment.
While only one in a billion enters permanently into being, the rest of us
manage an occasional nibble, and incorporate the insights derived from it into
our everyday lives. If what we experience doesn’t quell the angst that
permeates ordinary adult consciousness, it means we haven’t really tasted
anything. It’s all too easy to imagine
we’ve nibbled, and leave it at that. In fact, it’s a quintessentially human
trait. Narayana Guru is trying to disenchant us with our imaginary experiences,
with all their mechanical explanations, and return us into the heart of genuine
aliveness.
We
should keep in mind that many repetitive techniques are stupefying to the mind,
but that in itself is seldom helpful, either. Self-hypnosis is yet another
subject/object program. The aim is to shed all programs and simply be fully
present.
*
* *
Here
are some highlights from Mirror, Mirror,
an article in Proto Magazine (Mass. General Hospital) Fall 2008, by Anita
Slomski:
[It was discovered in 1992 that} one neuron [launches]
electrochemical impulses for both perception and action. The existence of such
a multipurpose brain cell, which came to be known as a mirror neuron,
ultimately led to a hypothesis that would explain why, for example, watching a
newscast of a sobbing woman walking through the rubble of her former home may
move us to tears. Or how the sight of a spider crawling on someone’s shoulder
can cause an involuntary shudder, or why, perched on the edge of our seats at a
soccer match, our adrenaline and emotions may surge as if we were the ones on
the field....
According
to the mirror neuron hypothesis, it’s only when we mirror or imitate people’s
actions or expressions in our mind’s eye that we can understand their intentions
and recognize and respond to their feelings.
“This
is a major shift in how we think about the human condition and the human brain,”
says neurologist Marco Iacoboni, director of the Transcranial Magnetic
Simulation Laboratory at the Ahmanson-Lovelace Brain Mapping Center of the
University of California, Los Angeles, and author of Mirroring People: The New
Science of How We Connect With Others. “Mirror neurons show that we are
evolutionarily designed to be deeply connected with one another.”
Even though, at this stage, it’s difficult to envision
where
this research will lead, its ultimate impact could be huge. “I predict the
mirror neurons will do for psychology what DNA did for biology, says Vilanayur
S. Ramachandran, director of the Center for Brain and Cognition and professor
of psychology and neuroscience at the University of California, San Diego.
The Parma group’s first human studies, in the mid-1990s,
confirmed that both observing and making the action appeared to activate a
single neural circuit, and by 1999, three years after the first human mirror
neuron study was published, evidence supporting the reality of these
multitasking brain cells in people had become compelling, and a wave of new
research was launched.
[Later] researchers found that participants activated the
same areas of the brain whether they were observing emotions or experiencing
them.
Interestingly, the more emphatic an individual is, the more
robustly mirror neurons discharge.
As this research unfolds, many scientists are excited to
think they’ve found the neural mechanisms that explain such behaviors as
empathy and social perspicacity. The implications could be profound. “Our
survival today depends on whether we can cope effectively with our social
environment and stay in good relationships,” [one researcher] says. “And that
requires accurately perceiving the behavior and intentions of others.”
Learning
how mirror neurons help us make those social connections could, in turn, change
our image of ourselves as a species. “The discovery of mirror neurons shows we
are wired for empathy, which turns upside down the idea that our biology makes
us bad—that individualism and self-preservation are at our core and we only
become social animals through our higher intellect,” says Iacoboni. “Our
biology, in fact, is what makes us good, caring individuals.”
*
* *
Here’s
Jake’s take:
In
this verse, the Guru and Nitya examine the notion of existential beginnings and
endings. As Nitya opens his
commentary, he presents the two principle theories that seem to occupy general
awareness: a metaphoric description and a more literal one. For the former, Nitya
cites Genesis in which Yahweh creates all
manifestation in order to know himself and eliminate his loneliness. On other
hand are present day
materialists busily crafting a “scientific” description of the same process by
way of the Big Bang Theory (using words that are always by definition metaphors
for the thing.) The difference
between these two views appears to be important in our culture today even
though the similarities are far more basic. Both follow a linear trajectory. There is a beginning and an end in both illustrations, and
each follows a story line that moves through time (our mind’s construction) and
follows an evolutionary process along the way. The squabble between the two, it seems to me, is in the
minutia. On the one side is a
spiritual journey through manifestation while on the other is that same journey
accounted for in terms of material “progress.” In either case, our physical incarnation is a one-time
affair, the beginning and ending are recognizable events, and the rest is
mystery.
American
historiography offers a model of this general pattern. Cotton Mather’s
1702 Magnalia Christi Americana (The Ecclesiastical
History of New England)
constitutes the very first American history put to paper and placed the
then-forming nation in the Christian God’s general design—from Genesis
to Revelation. Later
historians—such as Whigs (nation-building myths trumpeted), Progressives, or
the Post-Moderns (gender, class, etc.)—offered alternative models through the
ensuing decades and centuries.
Whichever theme one chooses to
follow or develop, narrative history contains a story line, either explicitly
or implicitly presented that conforms to time as we have created it for our
getting by in a world of becoming and maximizing our physical life spans. The
Death’s head smiles in at the
banquet always, so the efforts to keep at bay all that will not conform to the
“story” requires enormous energy and attention. Those to be won over are essentially on the same page,
endeavoring to find ultimate meaning for beginning-less and endless
manifestation—a fish searching for the water it lives in while simultaneously
convinced it is a quality of the fish.
This
general condition, this way of knowing the world by turning outward, applying
names to forms, following cause and effect, and so on, constitutes our natural
procedure in dealing with the world of necessity. And it does work—ask anyone driving a car or using a
computer. We begin life by
immediately developing skills for this kind of knowing because our survival
here depends on our level of expertise, and the education industry dedicates itself
to developing those skills so vital for a functioning society. In a sense, we
almost always become a
victim of our own success by honing our skills so keenly in this knowing; but being is quite different: “When we look outward and perceive it is
called knowing. When we turn inward,
though, it is not knowing. As we are conditioned to knowing things we have a feeling
that realization must be a similar kind of knowing, but it is not. . . . Being ceases
precisely when a subject
and its objects arise” (p. 232).
Our
conscious awareness in a world of necessity represents one isolated domain of
our totality of consciousness, which we change throughout the day from an
absolute darkness in deep dreamless sleep to subjective dream fantasies to the
subject-object “facts” of a manifest world. We continuously alternate, says Nitya, and at the core is
our not knowing in the way we have so carefully trained ourselves. It is the
absolute darkness of being,
not knowing, that bursts forth the Absolute in its discrete forms for our
senses to notice. The knowing of
the not knowing or being, so to speak, is made possible through this
continuously creative process at work both within and without. The creator of
myth and mystery is none
other than the Absolute spark within us shared by all in the manifest world through
the senses, which, as Nitya points out, are not the province of our isolated
egos but mirror the process of beginning-less and endless creativity in which
we and the Absolute are not two, a principle shared by at least one
distinguished member of the scientific community:
Suppose you are sitting on a bench
beside a path in high mountain country. . . . And facing you, soaring up from
the depths of the valley, is the mighty, glacier-tipped peak, its smooth
snowfields and hard-edged rock-faces touched at this moment with soft
rose-colour [sic] by the last rays of the departing sun, all marvelously sharp
against the clear, pale, transparent blue of the sky. . . .
What is it that
called you suddenly out of nothingness to enjoy for a brief while a spectacle which
remains quite indifferent to you? . . . A hundred years ago, perhaps another
man sat on this spot; like you he gazed with awe and yearning in his heart at
the dying light of the glaciers.
Like you he was begotten of man and born of woman. He felt pain and brief
joy as you
do. Was he someone else? Was it
not you yourself? What is this Self of yours?
What was the necessary condition for
making the thing conceived this time into you,
just you and not someone else? What
clearly intelligible scientific meaning can this “someone”
really have? If she who is now
your mother had cohabitated with someone else and had a son by him, and your
father had done likewise, would you
have come to be? Or were you
living in them, and in your father’s father . . . thousands of years ago? And
even if this is so, why are you not
your brother, why is your brother not you, and why are you not one of your
distant cousins? What justifies
you in obstinately discovering this difference—when objectively what is there
is the same? (Erwin Schrodinger, My View
of the World, pp. 20-21.
Part IV
Sujit
is working on some slide shows to present essential concepts of Vedanta
(including Atmo) in a newer format. Here’s the latest: http://www.slideshare.net/NPHIL/the-what-of-vedanta
.
*
* *
Susan
has been kind enough to compensate for her absence from class with a thoughtful
report:
Last
week, I had the fortunate experience of spending a few days in the wild and
fast-paced world of New York City. I felt as though I was a plodding turtle in
that city of hares. Along with the pace, I was awed by the vast diversity —
skin color, culture, language, facial expressions, hair dos, and all the ways
people present themselves in the world. How beautiful to see that we can all
coexist and in such close quarters. As I walked around the city, I pondered the
happiness and hardship that humans face and feel. Some have much opportunity
and run with it, some have no opportunity and find the light in the darkest of
places, some have no opportunity and can't find any light anywhere. And then
there are also those who can't find any light, despite having vast opportunity.
It is a wonder to see all the people and the possibilities and also sad to
glimpse the hardships. Riding the subways, crowded with people I would
sometimes close my eyes and find that glimmer of light that is the spark of my
being and the light of all. it was a tiny meditation in the middle of a small
sea of humanity. When my eyes were open, it appeared that the other people and
I were separate entities, each with our own lives, hopes, dreams, challenges.
When I closed my eyes, I could feel how we were all one. It reminded me of that
bliss of meditating before and after Gurukula class and how easy it is to feel
the connection, the oneness by focusing inward.
Related to all this and to our study of Atmo 33 is a
wonderful passage from The Book: On the Taboo Against
Knowing Who You Are, by Alan Watts:
“As is so often the way, what we have suppressed and
overlooked is something startlingly obvious. The difficulty is that it is so
obvious and basic that one can hardly find the words for it. The Germans call
it a Hintergedanke, an apprehension lying tacitly in the back of our minds
which we cannot easily admit, even to ourselves. The sensation of “I” as a
lonely and isolated center of being is so powerful and commonsensical, and so
fundamental to our modes of speech and thought, to our laws and social
institutions, that we cannot experience selfhood except as something
superficial in the scheme of the universe. I seem to be a brief light that
flashes but once in all the aeons of time—a rare, complicated, and
all-too-delicate organism on the fringe of biological evolution, where the wave
of life bursts into individual, sparkling, and multicolored drops that gleam
for a moment only to vanish forever. Under such conditioning it seems
impossible and even absurd to realize that myself does not reside in the drop
alone, but in the whole surge of energy which ranges from the galaxies to the
nuclear fields in my body. At this level of existence “I” am immeasurably old;
my forms are infinite and their comings and goings are simply the pulses or
vibrations of a single and eternal flow of energy.
“The difficulty in realizing this to be so is that
conceptual thinking cannot grasp it. It is as if the eyes were trying to look
at themselves directly, or as if one were trying to describe the color of a
mirror in terms of colors reflected in the mirror. Just as sight is something
more than all things seen, the foundation or “ground” of our existence and our
awareness cannot be understood in terms of things that are known. We are
forced, therefore, to speak of it through myth—that is, through special
metaphors, analogies, and images which say what it is like as distinct from
what it is. At one extreme of its meaning, “myth” is fable, falsehood, or
superstition. But at another, “myth” is a useful and fruitful image by which we
make sense of life in somewhat the same way that we can explain electrical
forces by comparing them with the behavior of water or air. Yet “myth,” in this
second sense, is not to be taken literally, just as electricity is not to be
confused with air or water. Thus in using myth one must take care not to
confuse image with fact, which would be like climbing up the signpost instead
of following the road.”
*
* *
Perusing
Love and Blessings, I came across
Nitya’s moment of conversion that parallels the one of my own that I mentioned
in class:
Nataraja
Guru was waiting for his sixtieth birthday to officially adopt sannyasa even
though he had been living as a sannyasi all his life. Around this time the high
court of Kerala drew up a scheme for the Shivagiri Mutt to be managed by a
trust. This, in effect, brought an end to the guru-disciple hierarchy there.
Nataraja Guru considered the move contrary to Narayana Guru’s Will and
Testament. It was to continue that spirit that the guru-disciple hierarchy was
instituted in the Gurukula.
Guru deeply respected the lineages
of teachers found in a number of the world’s religions. His intention was to
institute a lineage of gurus with himself as the model disciple of Narayana
Guru and with the line to be continued by John Spiers, Mangalananda Swami and
me. He also wanted to make the Gurukula more independent, with a clear-cut
rejection of the other institutions named after Narayana Guru. Several such
institutions seemed to him to be doing no justice to the Guru’s name, only
using it for some sort of reflected glory and sometimes taking advantage of it
in a very inappropriate manner.
We
started publishing an English newsletter called The Gurukula Bulletin, whose
tone was highly critical of the other major organizations bearing Narayana Guru’s
name. Being young and egoistic, I took the criticism to another degree of
exaggeration, and in all my speeches I was vehement in denouncing the lifestyle
of the people connected with those organizations.
When
Guru saw that I was transgressing all limits of dignified criticism, he
corrected me. He told me whenever I was facing people, rather than hurling
angry shouts at them I should visualize only the Guru or God in my heart, and
all my speech should be like a supplication directed to this image within. In
public I had always spoken like an angry Marxist. Now that style of speech was
to be substituted with a more contemplative and lyrical tone. This new attitude
led to a wholesale change in my behavior, and before long brought me more
friends and fewer enemies. (164)