The word kutastha, ‘established on the summit,’ describes the man or woman who has learned the supreme skill of life, who has climbed the slopes of the Himalayas within to stand unshaken at the summit of human consciousness, no matter what storms rage about him or her. Not all the forces in the universe can shake one who is established in the Lord, the supreme protector. Gandhi’s life is a perfect example of how one man who is established in himself can stand against all violence and yet be neither afraid nor alone.
There is a story in the Mahabharata in which Duryodhana, the leader of the forces of selfishness, and Arjuna, the leader of the forces of selflessness, go to Sri Krishna to ask for help. Like a good Hindu god, Sri Krishna was having his siesta. There was one chair, a throne, near his head. Duryodhana, who always saw himself as the sun around which other planets should move, came in first and seated himself comfortably in his host’s chair with the complete arrogance of the inflated ego. Sri Krishna, who was not really sleeping, opened his eyes slightly and thought, “That’s where I thought you would sit.” Then Arjuna came in and, seeing the lotus feet of the Lord, sat on the floor with his head at Sri Krishna’s feet. When Sri Krishna opened his eyes, he naturally first saw the man sitting at his feet, and he asked Arjuna what he wanted. Arjuna, showing great love for his enemies, said, “There is somebody in the chair behind you who came before me. Give him what he wants first.” Sri Krishna was greatly touched by Arjuna’s putting Duryodhana first even on this special occasion, so he said, “I have two things to offer. To one of you I can give armies, navies, and any devastating weapon you want. To the other I will give myself.”
Duryodhana made a note of this and said, “This is what I’ve been looking for. Throw in nuclear weapons as well and we’ll be invincible.”
Sri Krishna said, “You can have everything you want, but I won’t come with it.”
“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Duryodhana said. “As long as we have a powerful arsenal, who can beat us?”
Then Sri Krishna asked Arjuna what he wanted, and Arjuna replied, “I don’t want weapons; I want you to be with me and nothing else.”
So Sri Krishna went with Arjuna, and to Duryodhana went all the forces of violence which finally destroyed him and his family. And in our lives, when we follow Arjuna’s example and seek to become united with the Lord of Love within, no amount of violence can shake us.
9. They are equally kind to relative, enemy, and a friend; to someone who supports them, someone who is indifferent or neutral, and even someone hateful. Through the ability to give love and respect to all, they rise to great heights.
One of the secrets of victorious living is found in the word samabuddhi, ‘having an equal attitude towards all,’ which tells us to live in harmony with the law of life, to realize that all of us come from God, exist in God, and return to God. In the supreme climax of meditation called samadhi, we see the Lord in everyone, because we see the indivisible unity which is the divine principle of existence.
To everyone, it is necessary to behave with respect: to those who help us, to those who hinder us, to those who talk nicely to us, to those who do not talk to us at all. This is the secret of perfect human relations. Showing respect to our parents, to our friends, and to our enemies not only helps us; it helps them as well. Even if others are not entirely worthy of our respect, when we show respect to them, they begin to rise up to it. If we can keep faith in even the most self-willed person, if we can put our trust in him and expect him to grow, gradually he will try to deserve our respect. We do not have to worry about how the other person will behave towards us, and we do not need to think constantly in terms of reciprocity: “You take the first step; let me see how long it is, and then I’ll take the next – not one inch shorter or longer.” Here my actions are dependent on the other person, and when we act in this way, our steps get smaller and smaller until we do not move at all. In all our relationships, our primary concern should be how best to give our love and respect. When we try in this way to give every possible service without any thought of return or remuneration, others respond deeply and reveal what is divine within them also.
The code of behavior that many so-called civilized people observe is stimulus and response: you love me, I’ll love you; you hate me, I’ll hate you in return. But through the practice of meditation, when we begin to mold ourselves in the image of an inspiring incarnation like Sri Krishna, Jesus the Christ, or the Compassionate Buddha, we will find, to our great delight, that we are no longer dependent on how others conduct themselves towards us. This is real freedom. Now we are far from free; we are always wondering how the other person is going to react. We have all kinds of defenses – moats, drawbridges, walls, and then several trapdoors – which prevent us from acting with natural grace. But when we find the exhilarating freedom in which we are able to give our very best without getting caught up in others’ reactions, others’ attitudes, we find that those around us begin to benefit from our freedom. Those who come into close contact with us will start to lower their defenses, little by little, centimeter by centimeter, and slowly they too will learn to give their very best without worry or fear.
If there is just one person in the family who is self-willed and always on guard, everyone else will automatically raise their defenses a little when they are around that person. It is almost like a reflex; as soon as we see people who are on guard we say, “He makes me feel uncomfortable.” When we become comfortable with ourselves, we make everyone else comfortable too. The way to be permanently free from these tensions in personal relationships is to put the welfare of those around us first.
At Ramagiri some of our young men have become master carpenters. One of them is making an oddly shaped table which is full of angles and corners, but all the pieces fit so well that when they are together there are no angles or corners at all. When we try to manipulate someone else to fit into our angles and corners, we are actually making the corners sharper, and the sharper they get the more difficult it is to fit the pieces of our own life together into an harmonious whole. How much happier we would be if we could think less about everyone else’s angles and corners and more about how we can dovetail into their lives: if we could concentrate less on others’ reactions and more on how best to conduct ourselves. Even if others are irritable, we can be more generous. This is the attitude that comes from learning to see the Lord of Love in everyone.
Yesterday when I was taking our dog Muka for a walk I saw a jackrabbit in front of us seated on the road, full of confidence that none of us at Ramagiri would harm him. But seeing Muka, he became unsure and gave a couple of leaps, getting out of our way. Muka looked up at me as if to say, “Why does he have such abnormal legs? Why are the back two so much longer than the front ones?” Muka looks upon his four legs of equal length as normal, and he measures the world from this point of view; anything not conforming to his dimensions is abnormal. The jackrabbit is no different. Looking at the world from his vantage point, he would have said, “What strange legs your dog has – all equal length. How does he manage to hop?” Of course, from our point of view the rabbit’s legs are just right for a rabbit and Muka’s are just right for a dog.
Similarly, most of us live with people who have different opinions than ours. Everyone has different dimensions, and each walks or jumps forward in his own way; yet there is a common core in all of us. Twelve years ago, when I had just arrived in America, everyone asked me, “How do you like it here?” I always replied, “Just as I liked it there.” There are no differences between people, no matter whether they are in India, Africa, America, or Europe. All our greatness comes from this common humanity, and when we constantly keep our eyes fixed on it, we discover the unity of life which is divine.
10. The aspirant should constantly seek the Self within him through the practice of meditation. Controlling his body and his mind he should practice one-pointedness, free from expectations and attachments to material possessions.
Meditation is a dynamic discipl
ine by which we learn to focus our complete concentration at will. Every spiritual aspirant should try to practice ekagrata, or one-pointedness of mind, at all times. In order to become one-pointed, it is necessary to do only one thing at a time, giving full attention to the job at hand. This is a discipline which can deepen our love and loyalty to everyone around us. There is a close connection between deep concentration and loyalty, and with the practice of meditation, we can greatly increase this precious capacity to remain loving and loyal no matter what the vicissitudes or circumstances.
One-pointed attention is something we have to train our minds to achieve, and a good place to begin is with our senses. Often the agitation of the mind is reflected in the restlessness of the eyes. We have only to look at people for a little while to see how tempestuous their minds are; their eyes are like the pendulum of a clock, swinging from one side to the other. As the eyes have never been trained, however, we cannot blame them for thinking their dharma is to be a pendulum. We should train them instead to stop when they get to one side, and keep all their attention there rather than swing immediately somewhere else. Finally, when the mind becomes still, the eyes will become still also. Sri Ramana Maharshi’s eyes were extremely beautiful, for they were so still that to look into them was to fall fathoms deep into infinite love.
We can begin practicing one-pointed concentration today by giving our complete attention to whatever we are doing. While eating, for example, we can give our complete attention to our food and not to the newspaper or book we have brought with us. On one occasion in San Francisco we saw a businessman eating the Wall Street Journal for lunch. He wasn’t paying any attention to his food, so only a few morsels went into his mouth; but he was gorging himself on the newspaper. The same principle of training applies to all the other senses too. Personal conversations give us a splendid opportunity to train our ears. If we are listening to a friend, even if a parrot flies down and perches on his head we should not get excited, point to the parrot, and break out, “Excuse me for interrupting, but there’s a parrot on your head.” We should be able to concentrate so hard on what our friend is saying that we can tell this urge, “Keep quiet and don’t distract me. Afterwards I’ll tell him about the bird.”
Finally we come to the concept of nonattachment. This is where most of us are vulnerable, for just about everyone is caught and entangled in all sorts of selfish attachments to people and material objects. As long as we are susceptible to these attachments we are not aware that they are ropes tying us down. It is good to remember the picture of Gulliver lying on the ground, tied by innumerable little ropes to innumerable little pegs by innumerable little men that seem almost like hobgoblins. We, too, are prostrate when we are tied down by countless little selfish, self-willed, and separating attachments to people and to things. It is only when we have broken loose from these ties through the practice of meditation that we find freedom.
11. Establish yourself firmly in a clean spot, neither too high nor too low, seated on a cloth, a deerskin, and kusha grass.
Here Sri Krishna advises us to choose a clean place for practicing meditation – clean in the sense of having pure air, quietness, and austerity. Next we should find a suitable way of sitting. It should not be too high, for if we are prone to bouts of sleep we may fall and hurt ourselves. It is wise to sit on the floor, or in a chair with arms. Then Sri Krishna mentions spreading kusha grass and a deerskin. This is how it is done in the traditional ashrams of India, but we can sit on an Acrilan blanket or on our bed and still attain spiritual awareness. What is important is to keep our mind one-pointed. To any question of whether we should sit in the full lotus, half lotus, or quarter lotus positions, we can apply Sri Ramana Maharshi’s pungent comment that we should sit in the posture in which the mind is still.
Currently we are seeing all kinds of paraphernalia advertised for meditation: special incense, shirts, pillows, and even, I am told, kits for regulating brain waves. Please do not fall for this talk about chemical or mechanical grace; there is only one form of grace: that which comes from the Lord of Love within, which leads to self-purification, strengthening of the will, and selfless service.
12. Having taken your seat, strive to still your thoughts. Make your mind one-pointed in the practice of meditation, and your heart will be purified.
In order to sit for meditation one has to be firm, not only in body, but in mind as well. Here firmness does not mean sitting rigid and tense as if rigor mortis had set in; it means sitting with the firm resolve to train the mind to come gradually to rest in the Lord.
No matter whether you sit in a chair or on the carpet, the proper posture for meditation is with the spinal column erect. Every time your mind wanders away from the subject of meditation, or you get drowsy or get into a deeper state of concentration, check to make sure your spinal column is straight. Many people are not aware of how their heads droop or turn in meditation, or of how their bodies sway back and forth when a deeper level of consciousness is reached; so without dwelling on it, please check your head and back position occasionally during meditation to make sure they are correct.
Again, Sri Krishna emphasizes here the need to cultivate a one-pointed mind. Our mind is like a grasshopper chirping and jumping from one blade of grass to another, and to train the mind to be one-pointed, we should do only one thing at a time. In our kitchen at Ramagiri this is one of the main principles the women observe; when they are cutting a vegetable, they keep their eyes completely on the knife. On one or two occasions they didn’t do this, and minor first aid had to be rendered.
When our attention is wandering, we have to render first aid mentally. People whose attention wanders easily are subject to one of the greatest sources of suffering – boredom. There is nothing more disastrous in life than to be bored, and one of the effective ways to relieve boredom is to give more concentration to whatever we are doing, because it is the quality of attention we give to a job that makes it interesting. Unfortunately, most of us cannot give our attention with complete freedom. We are likely to give it only to things we like. There are people who can give their attention freely to trigonometry, but when you give them poetry they will find it impossible to concentrate. My suggestion is that there is real challenge in doing something we do not like, especially when we are overcome by lethargy, backache, and all kinds of problems that seem to prevent us from getting down to work. At first the mind says, “You may want to work on this project, but I’m not with you.” But you tell it, “It isn’t as bad as it looks, really. Let’s just see what it is like. After all, there is no harm in putting our toes in the water and seeing what the temperature is like.” Then, when the mind has touched the water, you go a little further and say, “Let’s play about a little and see what happens.” Little by little you can coax the mind to get so absorbed that it will say at last, “I’m not going to get out of the water. I like playing about.”
The capacity to give our undivided attention is one of the essential ingredients of the learning process. All of us have unpleasant chores to do, and sometimes it is helpful to draw up a list of things which need to be done joyfully and without delay, including in this list the jobs we detest, the jobs we would rather delegate. By working at such jobs we gradually release ourselves from the tyranny of likes and dislikes, which means we can give our complete concentration to any task, whether it is pleasant or not.
13. Hold your body, head, and neck firmly in a straight line, and keep your eyes from wandering.
To sit in meditation with the back, neck, and head in a straight line is not as easy as it sounds. As long as your eyes are open, everything is straight. But once you gently close your eyes and start going through the Prayer of St. Francis slowly in the mind, word by word, you begin to concentrate, which means you begin to sink below the surface level of consciousness. As your concentration increases and the mind begins to get one-pointed, forgetting all the distractions you have been occupied with throughout the day, your nervous system starts to relax. A
ll your knots and taut nerves begin to loosen and there is a very natural sense of how good meditation feels. But simultaneously the trunk begins to shorten, the shoulders hump, the neck disappears, and before you know it, the chin has come to rest on the chest. This is just the time, when meditation feels so nice, so relaxing, to draw yourself up, move away from the back support, and sit again with the back, neck, and head in a straight line. The mind says, “I’m alert now. You can trust me.” You start the memorized passage again, but it is the same old story. You have to keep straightening your posture over and over again until at last, when a wave of sleep comes near you, your will says, “Vanish. Go back where you came from.”
The problem of sleep in meditation will haunt us for some years and as meditation deepens, the will must be strengthened in order to remain awake on a plane of consciousness on which we are not at home, on which we have not learned to travel. In the final stages of meditation, when we go down like a plummet into the depths of our unconscious, there is nothing we can do if we fall asleep. So from now on in meditation, when sleep is overcoming you, draw yourself up by sheer exercise of willpower, keep your spinal column erect, and if necessary open your eyes for a moment and repeat the mantram. At such times you may find it helpful also to look at a picture of Jesus, the Buddha, or some other inspiring spiritual figure. When you have overcome the obstacle of sleep, close your eyes and go back again to the passage.
Not only in meditation can the will be strengthened, but at breakfast, too, when we are eyeing the third piece of toast or the second cup of coffee. Even more effective, when we are greatly agitated and want to go our own way because our parents, partner, friends, or children differ from us, is to make a painful turnabout and go their way instead of ours. If we can do this, the following morning in meditation the wave of sleep will take one look at our will and subside without a murmur. For anyone who wants to overcome the problem of sleep in meditation, this is one of the surest ways to go about it: to make a sudden turnabout and violate one’s own self-will in order to foster the happiness of others. Gradually this turnabout will bring a delicious satisfaction, although not unmixed with pain.
The End of Sorrow Page 36
