Friday, March 28, 2014
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Sustained effort ends in effortless being
In action there is bound to be conflict. When can there be freedom from this conflict? When there is no question of feeling hurt. Even in the midst of work, at all times and under alt circumstances, one must be prepared to obey any kind of order Imagine you are hungry, and just as you are raising your hand to put food into your mouth, you are asked to go elsewhere. At that very instant, you should gladly let fall the food you were about to eat, and obey the call. Such an attitude is an indication of one’s becoming established in a happiness that is not of this world.
When one is nearing effortless being ( "Sustained effort ends in effortless being - in other words, what has been attained by constant practice is finally transcended. Then comes spontaneity" ), whether one is blamed or not for some short-coming in one’s work, leaves one quite indifferent.
Then only does one become an instrument in His hands.
The body moves like a tool, and one watches it in the nature of a spectator. Then one observes what a great variety of work gets done by such a body, and in how very smooth and efficient a manner.
When one is nearing effortless being ( "Sustained effort ends in effortless being - in other words, what has been attained by constant practice is finally transcended. Then comes spontaneity" ), whether one is blamed or not for some short-coming in one’s work, leaves one quite indifferent.
Then only does one become an instrument in His hands.
The body moves like a tool, and one watches it in the nature of a spectator. Then one observes what a great variety of work gets done by such a body, and in how very smooth and efficient a manner.
Saturday, March 22, 2014
Is it harder for Westerners to withdraw inwards? Bhagavan Ramana answers.
Q: Is it harder for Westerners to withdraw inwards?
M: Yes, they are rajasic, their energy goes outwards. We must be inwardly quiet, not forgetting the Self, then externally we can go on with our activities. Does a man who is on the stage acting as a female role forget that he is a man? Similarly, we too must play our parts on the stage of life, but without identifying ourselves with those parts.
In the West only those that are disgusted with material life may turn to the path.
Q: What is the difference between West and East?
M: All have to come to the same goal.
Q: I am a sinful man.
M: Why think of yourself that way? You have rightly thrown all responsibility onto God in whom you have faith and He
will look after that.
Some devotees came and complained to the Maharshi about another's behavior.
M: Did you come to reform others or to reform yourself?
Q: In this pure atmosphere it is easy to practice but in towns
it is difficult.
M: When you see the true Self, is it not a pure atmosphere?
Let the body think what it wishes, but why should you think so? It is very good if you can just keep quiet without engaging in any other activities. If that can't be done, what is the use of being quiet? Even if you are obliged to be active, do not give up your attempt to realize the Self.
Conscious Immortality
M: Yes, they are rajasic, their energy goes outwards. We must be inwardly quiet, not forgetting the Self, then externally we can go on with our activities. Does a man who is on the stage acting as a female role forget that he is a man? Similarly, we too must play our parts on the stage of life, but without identifying ourselves with those parts.
In the West only those that are disgusted with material life may turn to the path.
Q: What is the difference between West and East?
M: All have to come to the same goal.
Q: I am a sinful man.
M: Why think of yourself that way? You have rightly thrown all responsibility onto God in whom you have faith and He
will look after that.
Some devotees came and complained to the Maharshi about another's behavior.
M: Did you come to reform others or to reform yourself?
Q: In this pure atmosphere it is easy to practice but in towns
it is difficult.
M: When you see the true Self, is it not a pure atmosphere?
Let the body think what it wishes, but why should you think so? It is very good if you can just keep quiet without engaging in any other activities. If that can't be done, what is the use of being quiet? Even if you are obliged to be active, do not give up your attempt to realize the Self.
Conscious Immortality
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Contemplate deeply what I am about to say now. Grasp it and you will be out of the mind-trap for good! - Mooji.
You say you are trying very hard to be the Presence.
But That which is observing the effort to be the Presence, is that making any effort?
The flip-side of the ego is pure Awareness.
Flick over into the Awareness position in which the effort to be the Presence is seen in much the same way as you would watch a movie of yourself. The one watching the movie is separate from the image of himself which is unreal. There is a natural detachment present.
That which is observing the effort, can it be other than your Self, the living, unchanging Source?
Pay attention to yourself as the serene and formless Seer instead of identifying with the frustrated seeker.
Do you feel the difference?
Confirm your Reality here as the formless observing.
You are already the ' somewhere' you are trying to get to. Be clear about this in your Heart.
That's it - job done.
~ Mooji
March 2014
But That which is observing the effort to be the Presence, is that making any effort?
The flip-side of the ego is pure Awareness.
Flick over into the Awareness position in which the effort to be the Presence is seen in much the same way as you would watch a movie of yourself. The one watching the movie is separate from the image of himself which is unreal. There is a natural detachment present.
That which is observing the effort, can it be other than your Self, the living, unchanging Source?
Pay attention to yourself as the serene and formless Seer instead of identifying with the frustrated seeker.
Do you feel the difference?
Confirm your Reality here as the formless observing.
You are already the ' somewhere' you are trying to get to. Be clear about this in your Heart.
That's it - job done.
~ Mooji
March 2014
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
What is your responsibility, if you decide to become Ishanga Teacher.
Questioner: Namaskaram Sadhguru. I am training to become an Ishanga teacher. What does it mean to be an Ishanga, and what do you expect from us?
Sadhguru: The word “Isha” means “that which is the basis of everything.” Nothingness is the basis of everything. If you look at the world as various reverberations, then silence is the basis of everything. If you look at the world as various forms, then the formless is the basis. If you look at the world in terms of measurements, then the limitless is the basis. If you look at the world as something or everything, then nothing is the basis. Isha is that formless basis of creation or formless divinity. Anga means to become a limb of that.
Anyway, you are a limb of that which is the basis of existence – you are just not aware of it. Human ignorance is such that each person becomes a world by himself or herself. Every simple transaction becomes complex just because every human being is a creation by himself or herself. And not only that – they consider themselves as bigger than creation. Because they are so big, whichever way they move, they clash with something. Their everyday walking through life becomes a hazard. What we want to do in the form of programs is to ease this hazard – if not to absolutely remove it – so that people can naturally find expression to their ultimate possibility.
Three simple lessons of life
It does not matter what happens as long as at the end of the day, you can look back on your stupidity and laugh at yourself – not at the other. This is a simple exercise everyone must do. At the end of the day, sit in your bed and look back at the whole day from the moment you got up, how you have been. You will see, at least 90% of the time, you are quite stupid.
#1
If you are just given a little responsibility, suddenly, you become so important. Look at how many times you became bigger than the universe. You will see, most of the time, you are bloated.
#2
Look at how many times you became immortal, that is, you were notconscious of your mortality.
#3
Look at how many times you looked at people and things around you without any sense of involvement.
If you just watch these three things, you will see you will have to laugh through the night. Do not start crying. If you learn to laugh at your stupidity, all the rubbish you carry will turn into manure very fast, and manure is very good for growth.
Being an Ishanga means understanding the reality of your existence. You are just a small limb of this large universe. You are just a small limb of this large nothingness. And there is another dimension to it. When we call you “Ishanga,” you are a limb of Isha Foundation, or in other words, an extended arm of me. When you stand there as an Isha teacher, people will not see you as a person – they will see you as a projection of Sadhguru. I do not make a long face. I do not sneer at people. People do all kinds of things to me too, but I am going through life smiling and laughing. Not because everything is fantastic around me. It is just that I am fantastic within me. Since I am fantastic, the world is okay.
Put your judgments aside
People see you as an extended limb of me – you must live up to it. The most important thing is not to look at people with two eyes that support the duality. “She is nice – she is not nice. He is good – he is not good. She is okay – she is not okay. He is rich – he is poor. This is all right – that is not all right.” All this rubbish. You must learn to see only with one eye, that everyone is the same. Once there are people in front of you, your life is no more about you. If you just bring this into you, I will take care of the rest for you. If you learn to keep yourself aside, if you learn to keep your likes and dislikes, your wants and your judgments aside, if you simply stand there as an extended limb of me, I will take care of every aspect of your life.
Source Link : http://blog.ishafoundation.org/lifestyle/lessons-of-life/
Sunday, March 16, 2014
WHAT 'IS' ALWAYS EXISTS - Bhagawan Ramana
WHAT 'IS' ALWAYS EXISTS
In 1930, one afternoon, when I entered the Hall I found Bhagavan all alone. Those were the days when I was disgusted with life, as I had to face too many family problems. In addition, I was entrusted with the supervision of a temple renovation which was a very tedious job. I was depressed and miserable, and had a longing to renounce the world and lead the life of a recluse.
Summoning my courage, I approached Bhagavan and said, "Bhagavan, to pursue spiritual sadhana one has to renounce worldly links, hasn't one?" His answer was a motionless silence!
After some time I broached the subject again and said, "I am not yet blessed with a reply by Bhagavan!" Bhagavan looked stern and said, "What do you mean by 'giving up' (something) and 'taking up' (something) else? Where to go, what to take? Everywhere, everything is only the 'I'. Who is to give up what and who is to go where?"
He uttered these words with such sternness that I took it as a reprimand and went out and started crying. After fifteen minutes, when I had calmed down, I became aware of the surroundings and wondered whether Bhagavan would have watched my crying. I was unnerved to see that Bhagavan was looking at me without any change in his stern face.
When I went into his presence again, Bhagavan turned to Muruganar and said, "Look at him! He wants to give up everything and run away. From where have we come to think of going elsewhere? What is, always exists. Where to go, and who goes?"
But then, suddenly, Bhagavan's face changed into one of love and compassion. He looked at me with tender affection and asked me in a sweet voice, "Who are you? Tell me."
Again, I gathered courage and said: "I know, Bhagavan, that I am the Self alone." Then, full of grace, He uttered the following words: "That is all that is to be understood. This intellectual conviction now is athida jnana (infirm knowledge). In due course, you will be established in thida jnana (firm abidance). That is the Final Truth - to be what you ARE!" I was fortunate indeed to get these words of assurance from the Master. What more do I want?
— Tapas Swami, From the Mountain Path, January, 1985
In 1930, one afternoon, when I entered the Hall I found Bhagavan all alone. Those were the days when I was disgusted with life, as I had to face too many family problems. In addition, I was entrusted with the supervision of a temple renovation which was a very tedious job. I was depressed and miserable, and had a longing to renounce the world and lead the life of a recluse.
Summoning my courage, I approached Bhagavan and said, "Bhagavan, to pursue spiritual sadhana one has to renounce worldly links, hasn't one?" His answer was a motionless silence!
After some time I broached the subject again and said, "I am not yet blessed with a reply by Bhagavan!" Bhagavan looked stern and said, "What do you mean by 'giving up' (something) and 'taking up' (something) else? Where to go, what to take? Everywhere, everything is only the 'I'. Who is to give up what and who is to go where?"
He uttered these words with such sternness that I took it as a reprimand and went out and started crying. After fifteen minutes, when I had calmed down, I became aware of the surroundings and wondered whether Bhagavan would have watched my crying. I was unnerved to see that Bhagavan was looking at me without any change in his stern face.
When I went into his presence again, Bhagavan turned to Muruganar and said, "Look at him! He wants to give up everything and run away. From where have we come to think of going elsewhere? What is, always exists. Where to go, and who goes?"
But then, suddenly, Bhagavan's face changed into one of love and compassion. He looked at me with tender affection and asked me in a sweet voice, "Who are you? Tell me."
Again, I gathered courage and said: "I know, Bhagavan, that I am the Self alone." Then, full of grace, He uttered the following words: "That is all that is to be understood. This intellectual conviction now is athida jnana (infirm knowledge). In due course, you will be established in thida jnana (firm abidance). That is the Final Truth - to be what you ARE!" I was fortunate indeed to get these words of assurance from the Master. What more do I want?
— Tapas Swami, From the Mountain Path, January, 1985
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Three Doorways to Silence
S I L E N C E
"Silence has three gates to pass.
One is the most peripheral: speaking.
Speak only telegraphically.
Speak the essential and you will be surprised that
almost ninety per cent of your talking is useless;
only ten per cent will do.
And you will also be surprised —
that ten per cent will become more effective
because that ninety per cent,
that unnecessary burden
is no more there.
Words become more pregnant
when you don't go round-about,
when you go directly.
And if one has to be telegraphic
one has to go directly.
That's why you can write a long letter
but it doesn't have that effect —
a small telegram is more effective [...]
All the great scriptures of the world are telegraphic.
That is the meaning of the sanskrit word sutra —
just a hint has been given but very pregnant.
This is the first step:
be telegraphic, speak the essential.
And drop the non-essential
and then the second step.
Think only the essential
and you will be surprised.
Ninety-nine per cent is unessential;
only one percent maybe is essential.
That too I say maybe, perhaps;
otherwise it is all holy cow dung.
So drop thinking unnecessarily
about unnecessary things [...]
So drop useless thinking
and you will be saving so much energy
that the third step can be taken.
the third step is the most subtle:
feel only the essential.
And if you come to the essential
then there is only love.
Anger, greed, lust —
all these things are non-essential.
They are parasites, they are exploiting you.
When you come to the essential only love remains.
And when your heart is only full of love
you can enter into the very centre of silence.
These three things have to be passed:
the outer part of the mind — talking;
the inner part of the mind — thinking;
and the innermost part of the mind — feeling.
And when you have passed all these three
then there is silence.
And that silence is the door to the divine."
— OSHO, The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Chapter #19 - 19 March 1981 pm
"Silence has three gates to pass.
One is the most peripheral: speaking.
Speak only telegraphically.
Speak the essential and you will be surprised that
almost ninety per cent of your talking is useless;
only ten per cent will do.
And you will also be surprised —
that ten per cent will become more effective
because that ninety per cent,
that unnecessary burden
is no more there.
Words become more pregnant
when you don't go round-about,
when you go directly.
And if one has to be telegraphic
one has to go directly.
That's why you can write a long letter
but it doesn't have that effect —
a small telegram is more effective [...]
All the great scriptures of the world are telegraphic.
That is the meaning of the sanskrit word sutra —
just a hint has been given but very pregnant.
This is the first step:
be telegraphic, speak the essential.
And drop the non-essential
and then the second step.
Think only the essential
and you will be surprised.
Ninety-nine per cent is unessential;
only one percent maybe is essential.
That too I say maybe, perhaps;
otherwise it is all holy cow dung.
So drop thinking unnecessarily
about unnecessary things [...]
So drop useless thinking
and you will be saving so much energy
that the third step can be taken.
the third step is the most subtle:
feel only the essential.
And if you come to the essential
then there is only love.
Anger, greed, lust —
all these things are non-essential.
They are parasites, they are exploiting you.
When you come to the essential only love remains.
And when your heart is only full of love
you can enter into the very centre of silence.
These three things have to be passed:
the outer part of the mind — talking;
the inner part of the mind — thinking;
and the innermost part of the mind — feeling.
And when you have passed all these three
then there is silence.
And that silence is the door to the divine."
— OSHO, The Sound of One Hand Clapping, Chapter #19 - 19 March 1981 pm
Monday, March 10, 2014
Friday, March 7, 2014
Thank you God! Thank you for everything. Joy and Suffering.
THANK YOU GOD!
About twenty years ago I read a Christian book entitled 'Thank You God'. Its basic thesis was that one should continuously thank God for the way things are right now, not petition Him for things to be different. That means thanking Him for all the terrible things that are going on in your life, not just thanking Him for the good stuff that is coming your way. And this should not just be at the verbal level. One needs to keep saying 'Thank you, God,' to oneself until one actually feels a glow of gratitude. When this happens, there are remarkable and unexpected consequences. Let me give you an example.
There was a woman featured in this book whose husband was an alcoholic. She had organized prayer meetings at her local church in which everyone had prayed to God, asking Him to stop this man from drinking. Nothing happened. Then this woman heard about 'Thank you, God'. She thought, 'Well, nothing else has worked. Let me try this.' She started saying, 'Thank you God for making my husband an alcoholic,' and she kept on saying it until she actually began to feel gratitude inside. Shortly afterwards, her husband stopped drinking of his own accord and never touched alcohol again.
This is surrender. It's not saying, 'Excuse me God, but I know better than You, so would You please make this happen,' it's acknowledging, 'The world is the way You want it to be, and I thank You for it'.
When this happens in your life, seemingly miraculous things start happening around you. The power of your own surrender, your own gratitude, actually changes the things around you. When I first read about this, I thought, 'This is weird, but it just might work. Let me try it.' At that point in my life, I had been having problems with four or five people whom I was trying to do business with. Despite daily reminders, they were not doing things they had promised to do. I sat down and started saying 'Thank you Mr X for not doing this job. Thank you Mr Y for trying to cheat me on that last deal we did,' and so on. I did this for a couple of hours until I finally did feel a strong sense of gratitude towards these people. When their image came up in my mind, I didn't remember all the frustrations I had experienced in dealing with them. I just had an image of them in my mind towards which I felt gratitude and acceptance.
The next morning, when I went to work, all of these people were waiting for me. Usually, I had to go hunting for them in order to listen to their latest excuse. All of them were smiling, and all of them had done the jobs I had been pestering them for days to do. It was an astonishing testimonial to the power of loving acceptance. Like everyone else, I am still stuck in the world of doing-doing-doing, but when all my misguided doings have produced an intractable mess, I try to drop my belief that 'I' have to do something to solve this problem, and start thanking God for the mess I have made for myself. A few minutes of this is usually enough to resolve the thorniest of problems.
When I was sixteen, I took a gliding course. The first time I was given the controls, the glider was wobbling all over the place because I was reacting, or I should say over-reacting, to every minor fluctuation of the machine. Finally, the instructor took the controls away from me and said 'Watch this'. He put the glider on a level flight, put the controls in the central position and then let go of them. The glider flew itself, with no wobbles at all, with no one's hands on the controls. All my effects were just interfering with the glider's natural ability to fly itself. That's how life is for all of us. We persist in thinking that we have to 'do' things, but all our doings merely create problems.
I am not claiming that I have learned to take my hand off the controls of life and let God pilot my life for me, but I do remember all this, with wry amusement, when problems (all self-inflicted, of course) suddenly appear. A couple of weeks ago, for example, I found myself in the middle of a publishing drama that seemed to be utterly insoluble. It was such a mess, I didn't even try to talk to all the people involved.
I went instead to Sri Ramana's samadhi, put the manuscript in front of it, and explained what had happened. I thanked him for the drama and added, 'This is your responsibility, not mine'. I had my eyes closed when I said this. When I opened them, an old friend was there, offering me some chocolate-chip cookies, something that had never happened before. I took them as Ramana's prasad. Later that day the problem was solved in five minutes. All the protagonists (who had been immovable antagonists the day before) came together and the work was completed amicably in record time.
David Godman
About twenty years ago I read a Christian book entitled 'Thank You God'. Its basic thesis was that one should continuously thank God for the way things are right now, not petition Him for things to be different. That means thanking Him for all the terrible things that are going on in your life, not just thanking Him for the good stuff that is coming your way. And this should not just be at the verbal level. One needs to keep saying 'Thank you, God,' to oneself until one actually feels a glow of gratitude. When this happens, there are remarkable and unexpected consequences. Let me give you an example.
There was a woman featured in this book whose husband was an alcoholic. She had organized prayer meetings at her local church in which everyone had prayed to God, asking Him to stop this man from drinking. Nothing happened. Then this woman heard about 'Thank you, God'. She thought, 'Well, nothing else has worked. Let me try this.' She started saying, 'Thank you God for making my husband an alcoholic,' and she kept on saying it until she actually began to feel gratitude inside. Shortly afterwards, her husband stopped drinking of his own accord and never touched alcohol again.
This is surrender. It's not saying, 'Excuse me God, but I know better than You, so would You please make this happen,' it's acknowledging, 'The world is the way You want it to be, and I thank You for it'.
When this happens in your life, seemingly miraculous things start happening around you. The power of your own surrender, your own gratitude, actually changes the things around you. When I first read about this, I thought, 'This is weird, but it just might work. Let me try it.' At that point in my life, I had been having problems with four or five people whom I was trying to do business with. Despite daily reminders, they were not doing things they had promised to do. I sat down and started saying 'Thank you Mr X for not doing this job. Thank you Mr Y for trying to cheat me on that last deal we did,' and so on. I did this for a couple of hours until I finally did feel a strong sense of gratitude towards these people. When their image came up in my mind, I didn't remember all the frustrations I had experienced in dealing with them. I just had an image of them in my mind towards which I felt gratitude and acceptance.
The next morning, when I went to work, all of these people were waiting for me. Usually, I had to go hunting for them in order to listen to their latest excuse. All of them were smiling, and all of them had done the jobs I had been pestering them for days to do. It was an astonishing testimonial to the power of loving acceptance. Like everyone else, I am still stuck in the world of doing-doing-doing, but when all my misguided doings have produced an intractable mess, I try to drop my belief that 'I' have to do something to solve this problem, and start thanking God for the mess I have made for myself. A few minutes of this is usually enough to resolve the thorniest of problems.
When I was sixteen, I took a gliding course. The first time I was given the controls, the glider was wobbling all over the place because I was reacting, or I should say over-reacting, to every minor fluctuation of the machine. Finally, the instructor took the controls away from me and said 'Watch this'. He put the glider on a level flight, put the controls in the central position and then let go of them. The glider flew itself, with no wobbles at all, with no one's hands on the controls. All my effects were just interfering with the glider's natural ability to fly itself. That's how life is for all of us. We persist in thinking that we have to 'do' things, but all our doings merely create problems.
I am not claiming that I have learned to take my hand off the controls of life and let God pilot my life for me, but I do remember all this, with wry amusement, when problems (all self-inflicted, of course) suddenly appear. A couple of weeks ago, for example, I found myself in the middle of a publishing drama that seemed to be utterly insoluble. It was such a mess, I didn't even try to talk to all the people involved.
I went instead to Sri Ramana's samadhi, put the manuscript in front of it, and explained what had happened. I thanked him for the drama and added, 'This is your responsibility, not mine'. I had my eyes closed when I said this. When I opened them, an old friend was there, offering me some chocolate-chip cookies, something that had never happened before. I took them as Ramana's prasad. Later that day the problem was solved in five minutes. All the protagonists (who had been immovable antagonists the day before) came together and the work was completed amicably in record time.
David Godman
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Monday, March 3, 2014
Love is the power unto itself
An incident related by Sharada Maa:
At the Cossipore Garden the Master spent the last days of his life. The Master was completely bed-ridden. Swamiji (Swami Vivekananda) and other intimate devotees were serving him to the best of their ability. One evening they planned to drink juice by tapping a date palm which was in one corner of the Cossipore garden. The Master was told nothing of this plan.
In the evening, all of them proceeded towards the tree. Sharada Maa was staying then in the same building. She suddenly noticed the Master darting down like an arrow. Startled at this, she wondered, "Is it possible? How can one, who has to be helped even to change sides on his bed, rush down like that?" And yet, she had seen it happen actually before her eyes! She went to the Master's room and found his bed empty. In a bewildered state of mind, she searched for him everywhere. Not finding him, she returned to her room in extreme confusion and apprehension in her mind. A little later, she saw him again returning to his room as swiftly as he had left it.
Later when Sharada Maa asked him about this, he said, "Oh! Did you notice it?" He then continued, "They are all youngsters. They were proceeding merrily to drink the juice of the date palm in the garden. I saw a black cobra at the foot of the tree there which was so ferocious that it would have bitten them all. The boys did not know it. So I went by a different route and drove it away after warning, 'Never come here again'.
Sharada Maa was dumbfounded on hearing this. The Master had asked her not to divulge this to anyone then.
At the Cossipore Garden the Master spent the last days of his life. The Master was completely bed-ridden. Swamiji (Swami Vivekananda) and other intimate devotees were serving him to the best of their ability. One evening they planned to drink juice by tapping a date palm which was in one corner of the Cossipore garden. The Master was told nothing of this plan.
In the evening, all of them proceeded towards the tree. Sharada Maa was staying then in the same building. She suddenly noticed the Master darting down like an arrow. Startled at this, she wondered, "Is it possible? How can one, who has to be helped even to change sides on his bed, rush down like that?" And yet, she had seen it happen actually before her eyes! She went to the Master's room and found his bed empty. In a bewildered state of mind, she searched for him everywhere. Not finding him, she returned to her room in extreme confusion and apprehension in her mind. A little later, she saw him again returning to his room as swiftly as he had left it.
Later when Sharada Maa asked him about this, he said, "Oh! Did you notice it?" He then continued, "They are all youngsters. They were proceeding merrily to drink the juice of the date palm in the garden. I saw a black cobra at the foot of the tree there which was so ferocious that it would have bitten them all. The boys did not know it. So I went by a different route and drove it away after warning, 'Never come here again'.
Sharada Maa was dumbfounded on hearing this. The Master had asked her not to divulge this to anyone then.
Arrogance and Living with a Guru, cannot go on together. Yogananda narrates.
Sri Yukteswar's impartial justice was notably demonstrated during the summer vacation of my first college year. I welcomed the opportunity to spend uninterrupted months at Serampore (Hermitage) with my guru.
“You may be in charge of the hermitage.” Master was pleased over my enthusiastic arrival. “Your duties will be the reception of guests, and supervision of the work of the other disciples.”
Kumar, a young villager from east Bengal, was accepted a fortnight later for hermitage training. Remarkably intelligent, he quickly won Sri Yukteswar's affection. For some unfathomable reason, Master was very lenient to the new resident.
“Mukunda, let Kumar assume your duties. Employ your own time in sweeping and cooking.” Master issued these instructions after the new boy had been with us for a month.
Exalted to leadership, Kumar exercised a petty household tyranny. In silent mutiny, the other disciples continued to seek me out for daily counsel.
“Mukunda is impossible! You made me supervisor, yet the others go to him and obey him.” Three weeks later Kumar was complaining to our guru. I overheard him from an adjoining room.
“That's why I assigned him to the kitchen and you to the parlor.” Sri Yukteswar's withering tones were new to Kumar. “In this way you have come to realize that a worthy leader has the desire to serve, and not to dominate. You wanted Mukunda's position, but could not maintain it by merit. Return now to your earlier work as cook's assistant.”
After this humbling incident, Master resumed toward Kumar a former attitude of unwonted indulgence. Who can solve the mystery of attraction? In Kumar our guru discovered a charming fount which did not spurt for the fellow disciples. Though the new boy was obviously Sri Yukteswar's favorite, I felt no dismay. Personal idiosyncrasies, possessed even by masters, lend a rich complexity to the pattern of life. My nature is seldom commandeered by a detail; I was seeking from Sri Yukteswar a more inaccessible benefit than an outward praise.
Kumar spoke venomously to me one day without reason; I was deeply hurt.
“Your head is swelling to the bursting point!” I added a warning whose truth I felt intuitively: “Unless you mend your ways, someday you will be asked to leave this ashram.”
Laughing sarcastically, Kumar repeated my remark to our guru, who had just entered the room. Fully expecting to be scolded, I retired meekly to a corner.
“Maybe Mukunda is right.” Master's reply to the boy came with unusual coldness. I escaped without castigation.
A year later, Kumar set out for a visit to his childhood home. He ignored the quiet disapproval of Sri Yukteswar, who never authoritatively controlled his disciples' movements. On the boy's return to Serampore in a few months, a change was unpleasantly apparent. Gone was the stately Kumar with serenely glowing face. Only an undistinguished peasant stood before us, one who had lately acquired a number of evil habits.
Master summoned me and brokenheartedly discussed the fact that the boy was now unsuited to the monastic hermitage life.
“Mukunda, I will leave it to you to instruct Kumar to leave the ashram tomorrow; I can't do it!” Tears stood in Sri Yukteswar's eyes, but he controlled himself quickly. “The boy would never have fallen to these depths had he listened to me and not gone away to mix with undesirable companions. He has rejected my protection; the callous world must be his guru still.”
“You may be in charge of the hermitage.” Master was pleased over my enthusiastic arrival. “Your duties will be the reception of guests, and supervision of the work of the other disciples.”
Kumar, a young villager from east Bengal, was accepted a fortnight later for hermitage training. Remarkably intelligent, he quickly won Sri Yukteswar's affection. For some unfathomable reason, Master was very lenient to the new resident.
“Mukunda, let Kumar assume your duties. Employ your own time in sweeping and cooking.” Master issued these instructions after the new boy had been with us for a month.
Exalted to leadership, Kumar exercised a petty household tyranny. In silent mutiny, the other disciples continued to seek me out for daily counsel.
“Mukunda is impossible! You made me supervisor, yet the others go to him and obey him.” Three weeks later Kumar was complaining to our guru. I overheard him from an adjoining room.
“That's why I assigned him to the kitchen and you to the parlor.” Sri Yukteswar's withering tones were new to Kumar. “In this way you have come to realize that a worthy leader has the desire to serve, and not to dominate. You wanted Mukunda's position, but could not maintain it by merit. Return now to your earlier work as cook's assistant.”
After this humbling incident, Master resumed toward Kumar a former attitude of unwonted indulgence. Who can solve the mystery of attraction? In Kumar our guru discovered a charming fount which did not spurt for the fellow disciples. Though the new boy was obviously Sri Yukteswar's favorite, I felt no dismay. Personal idiosyncrasies, possessed even by masters, lend a rich complexity to the pattern of life. My nature is seldom commandeered by a detail; I was seeking from Sri Yukteswar a more inaccessible benefit than an outward praise.
Kumar spoke venomously to me one day without reason; I was deeply hurt.
“Your head is swelling to the bursting point!” I added a warning whose truth I felt intuitively: “Unless you mend your ways, someday you will be asked to leave this ashram.”
Laughing sarcastically, Kumar repeated my remark to our guru, who had just entered the room. Fully expecting to be scolded, I retired meekly to a corner.
“Maybe Mukunda is right.” Master's reply to the boy came with unusual coldness. I escaped without castigation.
A year later, Kumar set out for a visit to his childhood home. He ignored the quiet disapproval of Sri Yukteswar, who never authoritatively controlled his disciples' movements. On the boy's return to Serampore in a few months, a change was unpleasantly apparent. Gone was the stately Kumar with serenely glowing face. Only an undistinguished peasant stood before us, one who had lately acquired a number of evil habits.
Master summoned me and brokenheartedly discussed the fact that the boy was now unsuited to the monastic hermitage life.
“Mukunda, I will leave it to you to instruct Kumar to leave the ashram tomorrow; I can't do it!” Tears stood in Sri Yukteswar's eyes, but he controlled himself quickly. “The boy would never have fallen to these depths had he listened to me and not gone away to mix with undesirable companions. He has rejected my protection; the callous world must be his guru still.”
TRUE SILENCE
This evening the following statement was made "Through the observance of silence one attains to Supreme Knowledge (Jnana)".
SRI MA: How is that? Why has the word ‘through’ been used here?
A DEVOTEE : Silence is itself wisdom, the means is itself the end.
SOMEONE ELSE : By silence we have to understand the stilling of the five senses.
SRI MA : Yes, but why say ‘through’?
A DEVOTEE: Complete and exclusive concentration on the Self this is the significance of ‘through’.
SRI MA : When speech is suppressed, the activity of the mind still continues. All the same, such silence helps to control the mind. As the mind dives deeper, its activity slackens off, and then one comes to feel that He who provides for everything, will arrange matters. When the mind is agitated by thoughts of worldly things, the benefit that should be gained by abstaining from speech is lost.
One may, for instance, keep silent at the moment of anger, but some time or other it is bound to burst forth. When the mind is centered in God, it keeps on advancing steadily, and along with this emerges purity of body as well as mind. To let thought dwell on the objects of the senses is a waste of energy.
When the mind is thus occupied and silence is not observed, it finds release in speech. Otherwise, this kind of silence might put undue strain on the senses and possibly result in ill-health. But when the mind is turned inward, not only can there be no injury to health, but more than that, by constantly dwelling on the thought of God, all the knots (granthi) that make up the ego are unravelled, and thereby that which has to be realized will be realized.
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