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by Ramana Maharshi

Every living being longs always to be happy,
untainted by sorrow; and everyone has the greatest love for himself, which
is solely due to the fact that happiness is his real nature. Hence, in
order to realize that inherent and untainted happiness, which indeed he
daily experiences when the mind is subdued in deep sleep, it is essential
that he should know himself. For obtaining such knowledge the enquiry 'Who
am I?' in quest of the Self is the best means.
'Who am I?' I am not this physical body, nor am I
the five organs of sense perception; I am not the five organs of external
activity, nor am I the five vital forces, nor am I even the thinking mind.
Neither am I that unconscious state of nescience which retains merely the
subtle vasanas (latencies of the mind), while being free from the
functional activity of the sense-organs and of the mind, and being unaware
of the existence of the objects of sense-perception.
Therefore, summarily rejecting all the
above-mentioned physical adjuncts and their functions, saying 'I am not
this; no, nor am I this, nor this' -- that which then remains separate and
alone by itself, that pure Awareness is what I am. This Awareness is by
its very nature Sat-Chit-Ananda (Existence-Consciousness-Bliss).
If the mind, which is the instrument of knowledge
and is the basis of all activity, subsides, the perception of the world as
an objective reality ceases. Unless the illusory perception of the serpent
in the rope ceases, the rope on which the illusion is formed is not
perceived as such. Similarly, unless the illusory nature of the perception
of the world as a objective reality ceases, the Vision of the true nature
of the Self, on which the illusion is formed, is not obtained.
The mind is a unique power (sakti) in the Atman,
whereby thoughts occur to one. On scrutiny as to what remains after
eliminating all thoughts, it will be found that there is no such thing as
mind apart from thought. So then, thoughts themselves constitute the mind.
Nor is there any such thing as the physical world apart from and
independent of thought. In deep sleep there are no thoughts: nor is there
the world. In the wakeful and dream state thoughts are present, and there
is also the world. Just as the spider draws out the thread of the cobweb
from within itself and withdraws it again into itself, in the same way the
mind projects the world out of itself and absorbs it back into itself.
The world is perceived as an apparent objective
reality when the mind is externalized, thereby forsaking its identity with
the Self. When the world is thus perceived, the true nature of the Self is
not revealed: conversely, when the Self is realized the world ceases to
appear as an objective reality.
By a steady and continuous investigation into the
nature of the mind, the mind is transformed into That to which 'I' refers;
and that is in fact the Self. Mind has necessarily to depend for its
existence on something gross; it never subsists by itself. It is this mind
that is otherwise called the subtle body, ego, jiva, or soul.
That which arises in the physical body as 'I' is
the mind. If one inquires whence the 'I'-thought in the body arises in the
first instance, it will be found that it is from hrdayam (literally 'I am
the Heart), or the Heart. That is the source and stay of the mind. Or
again, even if one merely continuously repeats to oneself inwardly 'I-I'
with the entire mind fixed thereon, that also leads one to the same
source.
The first and foremost of all thoughts that arise
in the mind is the primal 'I'-thought. It is only after the rise or origin
of the 'I'-thought that innumerable other thoughts arise. In other words,
only after the first personal pronoun, 'I', has arisen, do the second and
third personal pronouns ('you, he' etc.) occur to the mind; and they
cannot subsist without the former.
Since every other thought can occur only after the
rise of the 'I'-thought and since the mind is nothing but a bundle of
thoughts, it is only through the enquiry 'Who am I?' that the mind
subsides. Moreover, the integral 'I'-thought, implicit in such enquiry,
having destroyed all other thoughts, gets itself destroyed or consumed,
just as the stick used for stirring the burning funeral pyre gets
consumed.
Even when extraneous thoughts sprout up during such
enquiry, do not seek to complete the rising thought, but instead, deeply
enquire within, 'To who has this thought occurred?' No matter how many
thoughts thus occur to you, if you would with acute vigilance enquire
immediately as and when each individual thought arises to whom it has
occurred, you would find it is to 'me'. If then you enquire 'Who am I?'
the mind gets introverted and the rising thought also subsides. In this
manner as you persevere more and more in the practice of Self-enquiry, the
mind acquires increasing strength and power to abide in its Source.
It is only when the subtle mind is externalized
through the activity of the intellect and the sense-organs that gross name
and form constituting the world appear. When, on the other hand, the mind
stays firmly in the Heart, they recede and disappear. Restraint of the
outgoing mind, and its absorption in the Heart, is known as introversion (antarmukha-drishti).
The release of the mind, and its emergence from the Heart is known as
bahirmukha-drishti (objectiveness).
If in this manner the mind becomes absorbed in the
Heart, the ego or 'I', which is the center of the multitude of thoughts,
finally vanishes and pure Consciousness or Self, which subsists during all
the states of the mind, alone remains resplendent. It is this state, where
there is not the slightest trace of the 'I'-thought, that is the true
Being of oneself. And that is called Quiescence or Mouna (silence).
This state of mere inherence in pure Being is known
as the Vision of Wisdom. Such inherence means and implies the entire
subsidence of the mind in the Self. Nothing other than this, and no
psychic powers of the mind such as thought-reading, telepathy, and
clairvoyance, can be Wisdom.
Atman alone exists and is real. The threefold
reality of world, individual soul, and God is, like the illusory
appearance of silver in the mother of pearl, an imaginary creation in the
Atman. They appear and disappear simultaneously. The Self alone is the
world, the 'I' and God. All that exists is but the manifestation of the
Supreme.
For the subsidence of mind there is no other means
more effective and adequate than Self-enquiry. Even though by other means
the mind subsides, that is only apparently so; it will rise again.
For instance, the mind subsides by the practice of
pranayama (restraint and control of breath and vital forces); yet such
subsidence lasts only as long as the control of breath and vital forces
continues; and when they are released, the mind also gets released and
immediately, becoming externalized, it continues to wander through the
force of its subtle tendencies.
The source of the mind is the same as that of
breath and vital forces. It is really the multitude of thoughts that
constitutes the mind; and the 'I'-thought is the primal thought of the
mind, and is itself the ego. But breath too has its origin at the same
place whence the ego rises. Therefore, when the mind subsides, breath and
vital forces also subside; and conversely, when the latter subside, the
former also subsides.
Breath and vital forces are also described as the
gross manifestation of the mind. Till the hour of death the mind sustains
and supports these forces in the physical body; and when life becomes
extinct the mind envelops them and carries them away. During sleep,
however, the vital forces continue to function, although the mind is not
manifest. This is according to the divine law and is intended to protect
the body and to remove any possible doubt as to whether it is dead or
alive while one is asleep. Without such arrangement by nature, sleeping
bodies would often be cremated alive. The vitality apparent in breathing
is left behind by the mind as a 'watchman'. But in the wakeful state and
in samadhi, when the mind subsides, breath also subsides. For this reason
(because the mind has the sustaining and controlling power over breath and
vital forces and is therefore ulterior to both of them), the practice of
breath control is merely helpful in subduing the mind, but cannot bring
about its final extinction.
Like breath control, meditation on form,
incantations, invocations, and regulation of diet are only aids to control
of the mind. Through the practice of meditation or invocation the mind
becomes one-pointed. Just as the elephant's truck, which is otherwise
restless, will become steady if it is made to hold an iron chain, so that
the elephant goes its way without reaching out for any other object, so
the ever-restless mind, which is trained and accustomed to a name or form
through meditation or invocation, will steadily hold on to that alone.
When the mind is split up and dissipated into
countless varying thoughts, each individual thought becomes extremely weak
and inefficient. When, on the contrary, such thoughts subside more and
more till they finally get destroyed, the mind becomes one-pointed and,
thereby acquiring strength and power of endurance, easily reaches
perfection in the method of enquiry in quest of the Self.
Regulation of diet, restricting it to satvic food
taken in moderate quantity, is of all the rules of conduct the best; and
it is most conducive to the development of the satvic qualities of the
mind. These, in their turn, assist one in the practice of Atma vichara or
enquiry in quest of the Self.
Countless vishaya-vasanas (subtle tendencies of the
mind in relation to objects of sense gratification), coming one after the
other in quick succession like the waves of the ocean, agitate the mind.
Nevertheless, they too subside and finally get destroyed with progressive
practice of Atma dhyana or meditation on the Self. Without giving room
even to the thought which occurs in the form of doubt, whether it is
possible to stay merely as the very Self, whether all the vasanas can be
destroyed, one should firmly and unceasingly carry on meditation on the
Self.
However sinful a person may be, if he would stop
wailing inconsolably: 'Alas! I am a sinner, how shall I attain
Liberation?' and, casting away even the thought that he is a sinner, if he
would zealously carry on meditation on the Self, he would most assuredly
get reformed.
So long as subtle tendencies continue to inhere in
the mind, it is necessary to carry on the enquiry: 'Who am I?'. As and
when thoughts occur, they should one and all be annihilated then and
there, at the very place of their origin, by the method of enquiry in
quest of the Self.
Not to desire anything extraneous to oneself
constitutes vairaga (dispassion) or nirasa (desirelessness). Not to give
up one's hold on the Self constitutes jnana (knowledge). But really
vairaga and jnana are one and the same. Just as the pearl diver, tying
stones to his waist, dives down into the depths and gets the pearl from
the sea bed, so every aspirant pledged to vairaga can dive deep into
himself and realize the precious Atman. If the earnest seeker would only
cultivate the constant and deep contemplative 'remembrance' (smrti) of the
true nature of the Self till he has realized it, that alone would suffice.
Distracting thoughts are like the enemy in the fortress. As long as they
are in possession of it, they will certainly sally forth. But if, as and
when they come out, you put them to the sword the fortress will finally be
captured.
God and the Guru are not really different: they are
identical. He that has earned the Grace of the Guru shall undoubtedly be
saved and never forsaken, just as the prey that has fallen into the
tiger's jaws will never be allowed to escape. But the disciple, for his
part, should unswervingly follow the path shown by the Master.
Firm and disciplined inherence in the Atman,
without giving the least scope for the rise of any thought other than the
deep contemplative thought of the Self, constitutes self-surrender to the
Supreme Lord. Let any amount of burden be laid on Him, He will bear it
all. It is, in fact, the indefinable power of the Lord that ordains,
sustains, and controls everything that happens. Why then should we worry,
tormented by vexatious thoughts, saying: 'Shall we act this way? No, that
way,' instead of meekly but happily submitting to that Power? Knowing that
the train carries all the weight, why indeed should we, the passengers
traveling in it, carry our small individual articles of luggage on our
laps to our great discomfort, instead of putting them aside and sitting at
perfect ease?
That which is Bliss is also the Self. Bliss and the
Self are not distinct and separate but are one and the same. And That
alone is real. In no single one of the countless objects of the mundane
world is there anything that can be called happiness. It is through sheer
ignorance and unwisdom that we fancy that happiness is obtained from them.
On the contrary, when the mind is externalized, it suffers pain and
anguish. The truth is that every time our desires get fulfilled, the mind,
turning to its source, experiences only that happiness which is natural to
the Self. Similarly in deep sleep, in spiritual trance (samadhi), when
fainting, when a desired object is obtained, or when evil befalls an
object considered undesirable, the mind turns inwards and enjoys that
Bliss of Atman. Thus wandering astray, forsaking the Self, and returning
to it again and again is the interminable and wearisome lot of the mind.
It is pleasant under the shade of a tree, and
scorching in the heat of the sun outside. A person toiling in the sun
seeks the cool shade of the tree and is happy under it. After staying
there for a while, he moves out again but, unable to bear the merciless
heat of the sun, he again seeks the shade. In this way he keeps on moving
from shade to sun and sun to shade.
It is an unwise person who acts thus, whereas the
wise man never leaves the shade: in the same way the mind of the
Enlightened Sage (Jnani) never exists apart from Brahman, the Absolute.
The mind of the ignorant, on the other hand, entering into the phenomenal
world, suffers pain and anguish; and then, turning for a short while
towards Brahman, it experiences happiness. Such is the mind of the
ignorant.
This phenomenal world, however, is nothing but
thought. When the world recedes from one's view -- that is when one is
free from thought -- the mind enjoys the Bliss of the Self. Conversely,
when the world appears -- that is when thought occurs -- the mind
experiences pain and anguish.
Not from any desire, resolve, or effort on the part
of the rising sun, but merely due to the presence of his rays, the lens
emits heat, the lotus blossoms, water evaporates, and people attend to
their various duties in life. In the proximity of the magnet the needle
moves. Similarly the soul or jiva, subjected to the threefold activity of
creation, preservation, and destruction which take place merely due to the
unique Presence of the Lord, performs acts in accordance with its karma
(fruits of past actions, in the present life), and subsides to rest after
such activity. But the Lord Himself has no resolve; no act or event
touches even the fringe of His Being. This state of immaculate aloofness
can be likened to that of the sun, which is untouched by the activities of
life, or to that if the all-pervasive ether, which is not affected by the
interaction of the complex qualities of the other four elements.
All scriptures without any exception proclaim that
for attaining Salvation the mind should be subdued; and once one knows
that control of the mind is their final aim it is futile to make an
interminable study of them. What is required for such control is actual
enquiry into oneself by self-interrogation: 'Who am I?' How can this
enquiry in quest of the Self be made merely by means of a study of the
scriptures?
One should realize the Self by the Eye of Wisdom.
Does Rama need a mirror to recognize himself as Rama? That to which the
'I' refers is within the five sheaths (physical, vital, mental,
knowledge-experience, and bliss), whereas the scriptures are outside them.
Therefore, it is futile to seek by means of the study of scriptures the
Self that has to be realized by summarily rejecting even the five sheaths.
To enquire 'Who am I that is in bondage?' and to
know one's real nature is alone Liberation. To keep the mind constantly
turned within, and to abide thus in the Self is alone Atma-vichara (Self
enquiry), whereas dhyana (meditation) consists in fervent contemplation of
the Self as Sat-Chit-Ananda (Being-Consciousness-Bliss). Indeed, at some
time, one will have to forget everything that has been learnt.
Just as it is futile to examine the rubbish that
has to be swept up only to be thrown away, so it is futile for him who
seeks to know the Self to set to work enumerating the tattvas
(classifications of the elements of existence) that envelop the Self and
examining them, instead of casting them away. He should consider the
phenomenal world with reference to himself as merely a dream.
Except that the wakeful state is long and the dream
state is short there is no difference between the two. All the activities
of the dream state appear, for the time being, just as real as the
activities of the wakeful state seem to be while awake. Only, during the
dream state, the mind assumes another form or a different bodily sheath.
For thoughts on the one hand, and name and form on the other, occur
simultaneously during both the wakeful and dream states.
There are not two minds, one good and the other
evil. It is only the vasanas or tendencies of the mind that are of two
kinds, good and favorable, evil and unfavorable. When the mind is
associated with the former it is called good, and when associated with the
latter it is called evil. However evil-minded other people may appear to
you, it is not proper to hate or despise them. Likes and dislikes, love
and hatred, are equally to be eschewed. It is also not proper to let the
mind often rest on objects or affairs of mundane life. As far as possible
one should not interfere in the affairs of others. Everything offered to
others is really an offering to oneself; and if only this truth were
realized, who is there that would refuse anything to others?
If the ego rises, all else will also rise; if it
subsides all else will also subside. The deeper the humility with which we
conduct ourselves, the better it is for us. If only the mind is kept under
control, what matters it where one may happen to be?
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