BORN on August 15, 1930 in Manjakkudi, Tamil Nadu, little Natarajan was a fearless boy who caught poisonous snakes with his bare hands.
He had the guts to take on the burly class bully and cut him down to size. After his studies he became a journalist and contributed to important national papers, but all of a sudden he joined the Indian Air Force. A chance meeting with Swami Chinmayananda in 1952 changed his life, and he became Swami. Chinmayananda’s disciple. Ten years later Natarajan renounced the world and came to be known as Swami Dayananda. He has established centres for vedic studies in Rishikesh, Coimbatore, and Pennsylvania, Ontario, Rio de Janeiro, and New South Wales. Swami Dayananda spoke to Kuldip Dhiman and summed up his message thus: "The problem is you, and the solution is also you."
Q: Most of us know that there is something called Vedanta, which has the answers to our problems. However, not many really know what it is.
Vedanta means that which is at the end of the Vedas. At the end of each Veda, there is a section called the Vedanta. This section deals with reality. Upanishads are the subject matter of the Vedas. Upa indicates Sameepa or upasameepa - the nearest. The nearest to you is you alone. In fact the nearest to you is the one you want to know and want to be; it is not different from you - it is your self. The reason for all our suffering is ignorance about ourselves. So the knowledge of the self that frees you from all vagueness, doubt, and misery is called Upani or Brahma vidya. It is this self-knowledge that makes ignorance disappear, finally leading us to moksha or liberation.
Q: Adwaita and Dwaita are the two main schools of Vedantic philosophy. Since you are a proponent of Adwaita Vedanta, could you explain to us the difference between the two?
You might add another one to the list - it is called Visishta Adwaita- qualified Dualism. Dwaita or Dualism says that I am different from you, the world is different from you, and we are limited in power, knowledge, everything. So there must be one Lord who must be limitless. Because I am different from Him, how can there be an equation between the Lord and myself? Now, to understand Dwaitam you don’t have to study Vedanta. Dwaitam is a matter of belief. But God cannot be a matter of belief. He has to be understood. If you say ‘I believe in God’ I might ask "On what basis do you believe in Him?’ There is no basis for belief at all, for if your belief has a basis, then it no longer remains a belief: It becomes understanding! Belief is not
based on knowledge, and so it can always be shaken. Knowledge, on the other hand, cannot be shaken. Even if a million people say that fire is cold, you will not accept it, because the fact that fire is hot is knowledge, not belief. The second school, Vishista Adwaita, says you are not the Lord, but a part of Him. For example, a wave is a part of the ocean but it is not the ocean. This situation, in my opinion, is worse that the first one. Earlier, at least I had an identity, no matter how insignificant, but now I have become an insignificant part of the ocean; I have become a mere attribute, a nonentity.
Therefore, the Adwaita Vedanta that is Non-Dualism says eka vigyanena sarva vigyatam bhavati - through the knowledge of one thing everything is understood. To say energy is energy, matter is matter, gold is gold, silver is silver - you don’t have to know physics. But to say that all matter and energy is one, you require a lot of physics. Let’s go back to the wave-ocean analogy. Dwaita philosopher says a wave is a wave and an ocean is an ocean, and because they are different there can be no equation between them. Vishista Adwaita says, the wave is not different from the ocean, but a part of it, and without the ocean the wave cannot exist.
All right, suppose I touch a wave, am I not automatically touching the ocean? I can say I am touching the wave, or I can also say I am touching the ocean. But if I want to touch the ocean what do you think I would do?Wouldn’t I touch the nearest wave and say I am touching the ocean?Why? Because the wave and the ocean are basically the same thing. Hence, there is something else that is the wave as well as the ocean - it is water. This is Adwaita - the wave and the ocean, that is you and the Lord are one. In other words -You are Brahma.
Q: It is generally believed action without expectation of results is the core of Vedanta and the Bhagavadgita. Do you support this view?
No. Thanks to inexperienced commentators and translators, this is a misinterpretation of the message. Whenever we perform an action, it is but natural for us to expect a desired result. Only a mad man will perform an action without expecting a desired result. So we must definitely have an end in mind when we perform any action; it is a different matter that the end might not turn out to be what we originally wanted. For example you want to catch a bus. The action to be done is to cross the road and catch a bus. But there can be various results of your action. You might cross the road and catch a bus: the result matches your expectation, and you are happy. The second possibility is that you cross the road and a friend might give
you a lift in his air-conditioned car: here the result is far above your expectation: you are extremely happy. There is another possibility however.
While crossing the road you might get knocked down by a vehicle and land in a hospital with broken limbs: here the result is totally different from what you expected, and you are miserable. Hence, unlike animals, although you have the choice to act according to your conscience, the result might not be necessarily the one you originally desired. The relationship between an action and its results is governed by the laws of nature. We can attempt to understand these laws but we can never change them.
Q: Is wrong action better than no action?
Not at all. You have to first understand the difference between karma, that is action; vikarma, that is wrong action; and akarma, that is inaction. Just because you don’t act, it doesn’t mean you are inactive. There is an expression - naishkarmya - that is I am free from action, but this is different from being idle. You might think that by not doing anything you might become free of action. Not doing anything is also action, as long as you have this feeling that you are doing something, or not doing something for that matter. You must understand that you are not the doer. Only atma is inactive; it doesn’t perform action. Inaction is never suggested in the Bhagavadgita. Sri Krishna says let there not be any kind of attachment with the results that are the outcome of action or even inaction, that’s all - this is the real meaning of being free from action.
It does not mean you do any mindless act and claim that you did it and are now ready to accept the result without attachment.
The difference between you and an animal is that you have a conscientious mind that can decide whether an action is good or bad. If you stand behind a donkey, it might feel like kicking you. The donkey will kick you without having any compunction whether the act of kicking you is good or bad. It is up to you whether you wish to be a donkey or a human being.
Now, you know the difference between inaction and being free from action. Inaction is not anyway better than action, but wrong action is definitely worse than inaction; wrong action amounts to sin. Inaction
will not amount to sin, but it might create conditions conducive to doing wrong action. Inaction is, therefore, dangerous, but wrong action is the danger produced by inaction.
Q: Why is humanity in such a miserable state?
That is because all the time every human being feels that he is inadequate, deficient, or incomplete, and all his life his main pursuit is to become adequate, or complete. He tries to achieve this goal through artha - security and kama - worldly pleasures. However, any gain that comes as a result of effort is not absolute. Every gain of security through effort involves a concomitant loss. The gain obtained is always negated by the time and effort expended, by the responsibility assumed, by some other thing sacrificed. For instance,
when I buy a large house, the pleasure and security I gain are negated by the money spent, the debt incurred, the cleaning staff required, the fear of income tax authorities; all of which take away something from the feeling of adequacy and comfort that I sought before buying the house.
Remember, an inadequate person remains an inadequate person even after gaining a desired object. Even if you become a sanyasi it does not help, because earlier you were a miserable king, now you are a miserable beggar. So, one does not become complete by either gaining something, or even by giving up something. Therefore, a brahmanah or enlightened person is the one who recognises that what he really wants is a drastic change in himself; not a situational change. This realisation brings a certain nirveda - dispassion towards security towards his former pursuits and then he becomes ready to seek moksha or liberation directly.
Excerpts from the teachings of HH Swami Dayanandaji, Swami Paramarthanandaji and Swami Omkaranandaji.
Tuesday 13 July 2004
The Fundamental Problem
The Fundamental Problem
Discerning the Problem
There is a word in Sanskrit, “Moksa”, which means liberation. And one who is desirous of liberation is called a ‘mumuksu ‘. To seek liberation is different from seeking a solution to a specific problem. Liberation essentially is putting an end to all problems by the knowledge of the truth of the problem.
In the Upanisads, it is said “Jnanam eva moksah,” that is, knowledge alone is liberation. The knowledge it speaks of, is knowledge of oneself which is unfolded by the very teaching of the Upanisads, also known as Vedanta. If this is true that is, if there is such a thing as total liberation from all the problems and sorrows of life and one need not do anything but simply know something, why isn’t everyone a mumuksu?
Being a mumuksu requires a certain recoginition (which one can arrive at on one’s own or which one can be led to see by another) of one’s situation in the world. It entails a certain objective insight into a problem that is universal. We always tend to think in terms of our specific situation, in terms of a situation. A mumuksu is one who has begun to discern and enquire into the situation. This drastically changes his vision of the ends he wishes to achieve and of solving the problems.
There are two ways to approach a situation in which I wish to achieve a result:
(i) to determine the end I wish to achieve and thereby adopt an adequate and appropriate means, or
(ii) to know the nature of the problem and thereby determine the nature of the solution.
This is not a great wisdom; it is common sense. If I want to go to China, I know there is a series of means I must fulfil to gain that end. I cannot get there by sitting still unless I only want to go there in my dreams. Then, upon achieving my goal I am satisfied that I have reached the desired end. There is no question that I wanted to be in China and now I am in China. In a similar way, my problem that I feel cold is known to me and the solution is thereby clear that I require a thing or a setup which will provide me warmth.
Once these things are known, my life gains a direction. The problems or yearnings, no matter how unpleasant and distracting, are reduced to means and ends. There is a clarity about them.
But then, one does not find the situations in life so clear-cut. Either, I want to gain something, an object, a place, a situation, a state of mind, an achievement etc., or I want to rid myself of a particular state of mind or situation. I adopt what seems to be the proper means and even achieve the soughtafter end, but I do not seem to get the desired result, the desire being some form of satisfaction. If I am hungry and fulfil the hunger by eating, I should gain the satisfaction of having my hunger appeased, for that is the end sought, not the food. In the same way, if any one or a series of desired ends is attained I should be a satisfied person. My desire should be satiated. If I find a solution to a problem that is troubling me, I should be a satisfied person, for it was only because of that problem or that unattained end that I was dissatisfied. At some point, after putting forth proper efforts I should cease to be a dissatisfied being. If that does not happen, two reasonable questions to ask would be
(i) Is the end I wish to attain clear to me ? and
(ii) Is the problem I want to solve clear to me ?
It is from this very simple standpoint that we start the Vedantic enquiry: first ascertain the nature of the problem that is to be solved and that, in turn, will reveal the nature of the solution. Or we can approach it from the standpoint of ascertaining what end one is actually seeking and that will determine the necessary means. And so, we begin by simply stripping away the particulars and looking at the very urge in man for seeking ends and solving problems.
All of man’s problems and seeking originate in his mind. When he is in deep sleep, he is not conscious of any struggle. There is nothing he wants to change, nothing he wants to do. But when awake or dreaming, his peace of mind is constantly being challenged by thoughts and situations. And his urge is to resolve all disturbances, to make things better.
This is the glory of the human mind that it has a unique capacity to enquire into the nature and meaning of things, to reason out, to analyse, to appreciate subtleties, to imagine, to conceptualise, to come to conclusions, to make choices.
An animal makes minimum choices governed by its inborn instinct and the urge to survive. For example, a cow instinctively fulfils the need to nourish its body by eating grass. It does not deliberate to be a vegetarian. It does not insist, either, that the only way to enjoy the grass is with a special gourmet sauce. An animal’s instincts allow it to sustain its life and the consequence of that urge for survival is the attraction to that which supports and enhances its survival and a retreat from that which is painful or which threatens the survival of its body. Similarly, man wants his body with its various systems to survive and function without pain, disease or situations which threaten it. And these natural urges of the body must be fulfilled in order for the system to continue thriving. Whatever is born moves naturally toward sustaining its life and away from terminating it. But then, man has an intellect, a thinking faculty and mere bodily survival does not make his life. He not only wants to continue living but to live in a particular way.
If man naturally seeks to sustain his life, he also seeks to fulfil the natural urges of the mind. And his mind being an instrument of reason, seeks a certain modicum of clarity. It moves, shifts, and changes but still it does not like confusion or ignorance. It wants to make sense of things, it wants to know, it wants to feel at ease with its thoughts and moods, it wants to be at home in its environment. This mind of man makes him self-conscious and self-aware. And being aware of himself he cannot but be a desirer, a seeker. It means, the very essence of man’s life is that he is after ends. They may be lofty, profound, or profane. Nevertheless, at any moment in man’s life, we find that the life he leads is but an expression of the desires entertained by him till and at that point. Although the specific want varies from person to person and from time to time in one person, what does not vary is, “I want.” In every sought-after end is the desire, “l want something that will make me different from what I am now.’’ Although one may want to attain a particular thing or a situation or to rid oneslef of another, what one actually wants is something pervasive and elusive. It is an unqualified want. All that one knows is that the self he/she now is, is not the one he/she wants to be. Having a mind that is self-conscious, one is appreciative of a lack, something that one missed in oneself and being possessed of the mind that is an instrument of reason, one looks into this unqualified want and qualifies it according to one’s understanding and values.
What man really wants is to be free from want. That “I want” is exactly what one does not want. To fulfil a desire is actually to get rid of it. Therefore, to say “I want’’ is really to say, “I don’t want to have any want”.
Still one cannot help but want, because being self-conscious one is conscious of one’s incompleteness. If one does not take oneself to be incomplete, one would not want to be different from what one is. And this sense of incompleteness expresses itself through the seeking of different ends. This is not something one cultivates or learns in time. An infant is also a desirer. It may not know exactly what it wants, but in addition to merely wanting to live, it also wants that which will make it feel good, happy, secure etc.. As one grows, one’s desires become defined, refined, and constantly renovated according to one’s cultivated likes and dislikes, ethics, values, and whims and moods at a given moment.
Thus, we find that in addition to the basic urge to survive, there seems to be another basic urge to have things well with me and that manifests in the mind: “I want to be full. complete, adequate, fulfilled, happy, self-possessed.” However one says it, it amounts to the same thing. And unlike all the cultivated desires for specific ends that one picks up in time, this one seems to come along with birth. It is a desire that one’s forefathers had. No one has to be told that being full, happy, is a desirable thing.
In order to satisfy that urge one seeks something, be it an object, a situation etc., believing or hoping that a change in a given condition will result in or bring one closer to the full person one wants to be.
The water-buffalo does not desire to live in Brooklyn or to go to the Himalayas for a vacation or to change its hairstyle or to become a cow. But man always wants to change some aspect of his situation. Man is aware of his incompleteness and cannot stand it. And this urge to be full, complete, is not a peculiar trait of some particular man: it is common to all human beings of all times. It is implicit in any action that extends beyond mere instinctual bodily survival. It is, in fact, the desire behind all topical desires, the fundamentall desire, the mother desire, for it is the desire which gives birth to all desires and motivations.
One chooses to dress in a particular way, buy a summer house, get a better job, have a meaningful relationship, rid oneself of bad habits... etc. etc.. Why ? Not for the sake of the thing itself, but for one’s own sake, for what the thing will invoke in one when it is gained.
It is important that this be seen for this is the end one is really after.
The Means of Completeness
Having determined the end, we should now be able to arrive at the appropriate and adequate means to achieve that end. But first let us see what is meant when we say one wants to be complete, full adequate. This particular “state of mind” or experience we seek, is known to all of us. And since it is known, we have all our searches and struggles for it. For when I was happy at a particular time, I was free of all my limitations, I was myself. It is that self I love to be, live to be, I seek to be in all my desired ends. Could I call that completeness I seek as something limited, something relative ? If what I am seeking is actually that specific object, then I am, in fact, seeking a limited end, for all objects are limited in time and space. The completeness one seeks cannot be limited because whatever is limited is dependent on factors other than itself for its sustenance, and is therefore incomplete. At the present moment, one is dependent upon a number of things and situations for the sense of well-being. And it is this very dependency which gives one a sense of incompleteness. What one wants is freedom from dependency, because otherwise one’s well-being is at the mercy of conditions which themselves are subject to change, based on yet other conditions. Thus, if behind all one’s seeking and struggles, what one actually sought was only another state - just like the one that obtains at present - there would be no sense in any pursuit.
Completeness or fullness is not a measureable entity. It is not a finite quantity - that I keep adding things to myself and one day I become full and complete. That is like saying 1000 units of achievements will make me full, but subtract one and I become incomplete. This thinking is fallacious and that kind of fullness is not even within the realm of experience for we find that the person with name, fame and fortune is not necessarily the fulfilled person. Such a person in fact is found to be seeking more.
If in every desire one has, what one really wants is to put an end to the wanting person, it is clear that the wanting person will not go unless the person is already complete, limitless, lacking nothing. Then alone can one say “enough”. Is it realistic and reasonable to say that I want to be free from want ? It is, because what one finds is that no matter what the gain, no matter how rewarding it be for the time being, one does not cease being a seeker, a desirer after ends. No end satisfies that urge for completeness. In fact, there is the expression “that’s life” in commiseration with the fact that built into the nature of every gain, is a quality which makes it fall short of its intended mark. One either laughs or weeps at that fact and goes on to the next pursuit, as though it will bring one closer to the end. In addition to the temporariness of all acquired ends is the fact that my values my moods are constantly changing and so the one who is receiving the sought-after end is not exactly the one who was seeking it. So even the impact of the gain loses its potency or meaning. Then, too, the gain itself is limited. For every gain there is always a price, always a loss. If nothing else, there is the loss of the prior condition. And even as one is reading these pages, one is losing the opportunity to watch television which may be equally appealing. One has to choose. Under no circumstances can I physically be here and there also at the same time. Any choice has to necessarily involve a negation, an elimination and we always hope we have chosen the befter alternative. Thus all that we find in the world is the limited ends.
What we have discerned logically and experientially, is that what a man seeks in his heart is to be free of limitation; he wants an end that does not come to an end. Perhaps we do not know the nature of such an end, because we do not seem to have employed the proper means. Can there be a means which would result in a limitless end? For gaining the ends one has not yet achieved, there is a spectrum of means available in the world. Between an end to be accomplished and the one who wants to accomplish it there is always a distance a gap in terms of time and/or space. And to bridge that gap vie must put forth the proper effort, be it physical or mental. But then, what one can produce by effort will always be limited, because the very effort itself is limited.
An action cannot produce a result that is not inherent therein. I cannot walk lying down. An action can only produce a result which is appropriate to that action. So by the very laws inherent in any action, we find that what we gain in the world is limited, whereas what we seek is limitless. It is really what you call a Catch-22. And it is logical. I am limited and I go after something, which is limited through limited means. Insecure plus insecure (being bound by time) equals insecure. Incomplete plus a million equals the same incomplete, because that is logical and it is also our experience. A finite sum like one and a finite sum like a million are both equally away from infinity. So in discovering the end one is really seeking, what we have done is to arrive at the problem one is really facing. And that is: one cannot help but seek completeness, yet there is nothing available by which one can gain it.
This is the realization of a mumuksu. And although there may be a sense of despair upon this realization, it is not a state of self-condemnation but of self-appreciation, for that is the nature of the solution.
At the moment, though, there still seems to be one remaining alternative. We seem to have gotten ourselves into a corner and the only solution one can conceive of, is to give up this desire for completeness and accept the fact that life consists only of limited and relative gains. After all we know that any desire one picks up in time can also be given up in time by growing out of it through a change in values, education, outlook, or by will, knowing it to be an impossibility. But just as one cannot give up the urge to nourish the body one cannot give up the urge for completeness, happiness. Try! This is what makes it the fundamental problem. The problem is natural and what is natural should be meaningful. As a natural urge, the desire to be limitless must have a solution as even other natural urges, like hunger, thirst etc. have. And whatever is natural about the self is always gladly accepted. For example, no one complains “My eyes see.” No one is irritated because there are eyeballs in the eye sockets. But if there is a small speck of dust in the eye, you cannot stand it. Even the physiological system cannot accept those bugs that do not belong to the system; in fact, there takes place a big battle leading to the body running a temperature because the intruders must be rejected. Similarly, no one wants to remain inadequate, unhappy, incomplete. All these are conditions the mind cannot accept. One wants to shake them off. Why ? Because they are intruders, they are unnatural. Since one is opposite of what one cannot stand, it is natural for one to be without them. Therefore, one naturally goes about working for that which is one’s own nature and ridding oneself of the intruders.
If I cannot stand sorrow and agitation, my nature must be happiness, peacefulness. Otherwise why should I not stand sorrow ? I should be quite at home with sorrow if it is my nature. But I am not, because like a virus, it is an intruder.
Thus all I seek is my own nature. Whatever I seek I am. But then, if it is, so why do I miss it ? I cannot miss myself. Still, if I keep missing it and keep searching for it, through countless plans and schemes doing endless things, the search, I say, stems from self-disowning, self-ignorance.
The problem is now clear. It is a problem of a kind, different from ordinary problems, for the end is of a different nature. What I want to gain is not something away from me, not something different from me, not something yet to be achieved. What I want to gain is what I want to be. What I want is myself. The means for this end must be of a nature different from just putting forth effort, however great that effort be.
If either going after, or getting away from something is not involved, does that mean that without any motion one will become complete? Yes, but then the word “become” has no meaning here, for, every becoming involves a change and a change involves a loss. If without a change I am to “become” complete, then clearly it must be the gain of the already gained.
It is because of this, that this search always seems to be shrouded in mystery. What one is seeking is hidden in the most secretive of the hiding places, in the very seeker himself. In the very act of seeking, one is denying the sought, for all one can seek is what is different from oneself.
If what one seeks is already gained, one is ignorant of the fact and the only means for gaining it is knowledge. I seek to be the possessor of my eyeglasses, which I have absent mindedly placed on the top of my head and I go about searching for it. All efforts are in vain. I simply do not know that I already own them. It is that knowledge that will make me the possessor of the glasses.
The seeker and the sought are identical. The problem is one of ignorance. Therefore the solution can only be knowledge.
If there is such a thing as self-disowning and self-ignorance, there must be such a thing as self-knowledge. That is what the mumuksu comes to seek - and that is Vedanta.
What is the Nature of Self?
When we talk about self-knowledge, we have to determine what that self is that I am. What do we mean when we say “I” ? It is an irony that the word “I”, which we use constantly throughout the day and from the standpoint of which we view and judge the world, has no definite object for it in our mind.
Any word I use elicits an external object or a concept in the mind. I utter the word “pot’’ and a thought-form corresponding to the object pot occurs. This is how communication takes place. If I hear the word “pot” and see a “cot”, you would say that my knowledge is erroneous; if I see nothing you would say I am totally ignorant of the object “pot”. If I use the word “gagaboogai” - a meaningless word - I use it as just that but definitely not to connote something specific in the world. Every word has a corresponding object. But when I say I-I-I-I-I-I hundreds of times in a day, who is this I ? Who is this, that I experience so intimately, that is myself`? For it seems it is this I who is unhappy, who can’t get his life together, who wants to fulfil his potential, his capacities, who wants a meaningful relationship, who does not want to suffer, and who now wants to know himself. I want to address this I, I want to see this I. Who is he ?
Upon enquiring into who I am, it is clear that I am a conscious being and that everything other than I is the world. That is, we can reduce the entire creation into two factors: one, the subject and the other, the object. Anything one can objectify is the object and the one who objectifies is the subject. In an object, one does not have the “l” notion, the “I” sense. I am not where the object is, because it is something I know. “I” is always the subject. And an object need not always be a tangible thing; there are also intangible things we appreciate and come to know. I am aware of time and space, for example, which are not tangible things but are still objects of my knowledge.
Although it is quite clear that “I” is the subject and as the subject is distinct from any object of knowledge, one tends to conclude that the physical body is I, the subject. It is the intimate experience of everyone, that “I” is confined to the extremities of the physical body, and the world is that which exists outside its boundaries. I do not exist, for example in the space between my fingers, while, there is certainly no remoteness about the feeling of pain taking place, even in some remote corner of the body. When my toe is hurt, I am hurt. I know my body with all its corners and crevices. Thus, we tend to overlook the fact that the physical body is as well an object of knowledge for us, as it is for others also.
Now the subject and the object are two distinctly different entities. The knower of anything is distinct from the thing he knows. Therefore, I cannot be the physical body. Similarly, I cannot attribute the identity of “I” to any function or system of the body, because it involves the same subject-object, knower-known relationship. For example. my sense organs are known to me as are their functions. When I say, “I am tall”, “I am short”, with reference to the body, or I say “I am hungry” with reference to the physiological system, or I say “I am blind”, with reference to a sense organ, it is all with reference to something just as one says “I am uncle”, “I am cousin”, “I am father”, etc. with reference to different people. Clearly, “I” is not any of these nor a composite of these. In each case I am looking at myself only from a particular standpoint, which is objectifiable. Every situation, from moment to moment, naturally invokes in you a person relevant to that situation (i.e. when I see my son, I am father etc.). It is this relative “I” that we are confronting all the time. And it is this relative “I” that has all the problems. “I” as daughter has a problem. “I” as short person has a problem etc.. Never do we confront the “I”, that is present in all these relative roles. That is, if there is an absolute “I”, a central “I”, an “I” as such, there is no occasion when that “I” is known.
When I commit an error, taking myself to be other than the complete self, that error cannot be beneficial to me; it involves a great loss for me. “I” is free from any limitation and I have concluded that I am the body and am taking onto myself all its limitations. If I am not the physical body nor the sense organs nor the physiological systems nor any relative role I play, then what is that “I” ? I must be the mind. Mind means what ? You do not mean that you are the tangible brain. The brain itself is an object. Then, the functions of the brain are known too. That is the thoughts of the mind are as well known to me as any object. Every perception, conclusion, doubt is known. Restlessness, depression, agitation are all known to me. Furthermore any one thought cannot be “I”, because when the thought goes, somehow “I” remains. Thus, when I say “I am restless”, “I am agitated”, I am speaking only of conditions that belong to the mind. I am not the mind, for I am the one who is aware of all thoughts. The thoughts come and go and I remain. Before the thought arrives, while the thought is and even after it goes away, I am very much present, which means I am independent of thought.
In Sanskrit, we call the mind with its various functions as antahkarana. Karana means instrument. So the mind is an instrument, capable of giving me knowledge, imaginations, memories, emotions, problems. Being an instrument, it must necessarily be in the hands of someone different from it, like any other instrument (the telescope does not see through itself). Therfore, “I” cannot be the mind. You could say perhaps that what is different from all this is ignorance, but even ignorance is known to me. What I know I know, and what I do not know also I know. (I know, for example, that I am ignorant of Russian language.)
Therefore, if you analyse you would have to say: I am... I am... I am... I ammm. I exist and I know. I am but a knower of various things. Things I know vary, but I am the one who knows all the time. But here, we have to go one more step. For, if I am the knower of all these, I am the knower only when there is something to know. That is, with reference to things known, I am the knower. If I reduce the identity of “l” to knower, what does “knower” mean ? It means the one who is aware of I am the awarer. Awarer and knower are functional words. The er is added with reference to a function like driver, speaker meaning, “the one who”, and it is again a relative name. The “I” I want to know, is the one who is unrelated to anything. And that can only be the content of the knower, the awarer, which is awareness. This unqualified awareness is the meaning of the word “I”. If you place the “I” anywhere other than in the subject, the ultimate subject, awareness, you commit a mistake.
In the body, awareness is. In the thoughts, awareness is. But awareness is also independent of both. Both depend on awareness for their existence. Awareness depends on nothing. It is self-existent, self-evident. Once I see that I am this awareness, which is independent, on which all thoughts and the objects thereof depend, I am free from all possible limitations that I can ever suffer from.
The Self is Fullness
Our lives are spent seeking happiness. We consider happiness or fullness to be a state of mind... an experience. Being an experience, it comes and goes. It does not stay for long and even at that, it has to be worked for and hoarded, for its brief moment of glory.
What is this happiness and where is it ? In the Vedantic teaching, the self is said to be of the nature of ananda, which means fullness. If the self is pure Awareness, it is formless, having no characteristics to circumscribe it; it is free from all limitations. It is the very fullness, the very happiness one seeks. It must be clear that fullness is not the quality of an object outside... nor is it somewhere inside the physical body. Since happiness often coincides with the gain of a desired end or condition, we attribute it to the very end or condition. The fact is, at that moment the mind is not wanting nor projecting. It is a wonderful moment, for I am simply with myself. And so the happiness, fullness which seems to come and go, dependent on various conditions, is really present all the time as the nature of one’s own self. I am that fullness always but because of ignorance about myself, I take myself to be other than what I am. The truth about myself is covered by ignorance like the sun being covered by clouds. The sun does not change nor does it cease shining, but it appears other than what it is, when covered by clouds.
The self which is said to be cit (awareness) and ananda (fullness) is also said to be sat, that which always is, which cannot be negated.
We showed in the beginning that all man’s urges and pursuits thereupon, if reduced to their fundamental forms, would be expressed in the desire to live and live happily and to be free from ignorance. When the teaching properly unfolds the nature of the self, its identity is revealed as:
Sat = existence which can never be negated,
Cit = awareness, the basis of all that is known,
Ananda = fullness, without limit.
If awareness is the real rneaning of “I”, “I” is no more a historical person. All the problems one suffers from belong to the historical I, the relative I, the falsely identified I, to the role one plays at any given moment. It is something like an actor who, playing the part of a beggar, takes the hunger and poverty of the beggar home with him after the show. And then, again, in saying,” l am restless”, “I am depressed”, “I am fat”, “I am lean”, all these problems belong in fact, to that which is the object of one’s knowledge and not to the subject who witnesses them. It is something like watching a congested traffic scene and saying, “I am congested”. Yet, we watch the traffic-flow of our thoughts and take its various conditions as belonging to the self. It is true, the mind is agitated, the body is fat. These problems belong to the mind and the body, not to I. This knowledge puts one’s immediate problems in the proper perspective. The problems belong to the object, not to the subject. That is true objectivity.
A wise man, a liberated being, knowing himself to be full and complete, is thus always full and complete, in spite of his situation and is not dependent on a situation or a thing or a condition to be full. You could say he is master of himself, because he knows the truth of himself.
In knowing the truth of oneself, one naturally comes to know the truth of the world, of the objects of one’s knowledge. (We have not even begun to touch this subject in this article). The problem that he originally took as being real and was therefore in dire need of resolving, he now sees as belonging to a false entity. He knows. “I am the one who gives reality to that entity.” “I have no problem”, “I am so full and complete that nothing can add anything to me nor can take anything from me”. That is seeing oneself and one’s life as they are. Only then can a topical problem be tackled for what it really is. There is a total release in this knowledge, for one is no longer a creature in the world.
The Methodology of Teaching
All I have said here, are a few words on paper and Vedanta has always been an oral tradition of teaching, passed from teacher to student. It is said to be a pramana, that which is instrumental in giving rise to knowledge. It is taken by those who come to it as serious dedicated students, to be a means of knowledge, as true as the eyes are a means of knowledge for knowing the colour and form of a physical object. Thus, two things are involved: the teacher and the student. As an oral tradition, it requires a teacher who handles the words, unlocks the meaning behind the words. To say, “You are full, you are limitless,” is one thing: To make the student see what that actually means, is another. If that is not done, the words just result into another conditioning.
There is a reason for the need for this methodology and it rests in the very nature of the subject-matter. What I want to know, is what I want to be, is what I am. And this I cannot be objectified and thus is not available for any known means of knowledge. All available means of knowledge, be it perception. presumption, inference, or illustration involve some sensory data. The only means of knowledge which has the scope to reveal the self, is the word. But even the word, producing thoughts in the mind, generally reveals but an object, which is different from the subject. To gain any knowledge, that knowledge must necessarily take place in the mind. But anything that can be objectified by the mind, is other than the subject. Furthermore, all I have available to communicate with, are known words, and known words can only produce knowledge of that which is known. If I say to you, You are “brahman”, the meaning of the word “brahman” is unknown to you. So I say, “Brahman means the limitless.” “Limitless” has no co-relative object in the known world and so all I can really communicate is a vague notion or a subjective concept (i.e. whatever you take the word to mean).
Thus, self being unique, it being neither an object nor a concept, yet undeniably present, the communication of it requires very special handling of words. Words must be elaborately defined, so that what is meant by the teacher is what is received by the student. Paradoxes must be juggled, illustrations handled, contexts set up, so that the implied meaning of words can be seen. For this, a teacher who knows the truth as well as the methodology for revealing it is necessary.
Secondly, the one who comes to learn this, comes to it with a particular attitude. Being a mumuksu, he has discerned to a degree, the nature of the problem and so there is a receptivity, an openness to what the teacher teaches. Because, what is being sought is not the solution to a relative problem; not the opinion of one man which may or may not be confirmed by additional information; not a speculative philosophy, or a system, or a school of thought which may be usurped at a later date by a greater intellect. What is sought, is very simply the Truth. This really distinguishes it from all other types of learning and problem-solvirig. And, we find that in the very learning process, is a love and a trust that comes from the relief of discovering the means to what you really want to gain. The teacher is not an authority, but is more akin to a candle who is going to light another candle.
Thus, this knowledge gives man, the end that he was seeking in all his pursuits and solves all problems in the sense that the true nature of the owner of the problem and the true nature of the problem itself is seen.
Om Tat Sat
Sri Swami Dayananda Saraswati
Discerning the Problem
There is a word in Sanskrit, “Moksa”, which means liberation. And one who is desirous of liberation is called a ‘mumuksu ‘. To seek liberation is different from seeking a solution to a specific problem. Liberation essentially is putting an end to all problems by the knowledge of the truth of the problem.
In the Upanisads, it is said “Jnanam eva moksah,” that is, knowledge alone is liberation. The knowledge it speaks of, is knowledge of oneself which is unfolded by the very teaching of the Upanisads, also known as Vedanta. If this is true that is, if there is such a thing as total liberation from all the problems and sorrows of life and one need not do anything but simply know something, why isn’t everyone a mumuksu?
Being a mumuksu requires a certain recoginition (which one can arrive at on one’s own or which one can be led to see by another) of one’s situation in the world. It entails a certain objective insight into a problem that is universal. We always tend to think in terms of our specific situation, in terms of a situation. A mumuksu is one who has begun to discern and enquire into the situation. This drastically changes his vision of the ends he wishes to achieve and of solving the problems.
There are two ways to approach a situation in which I wish to achieve a result:
(i) to determine the end I wish to achieve and thereby adopt an adequate and appropriate means, or
(ii) to know the nature of the problem and thereby determine the nature of the solution.
This is not a great wisdom; it is common sense. If I want to go to China, I know there is a series of means I must fulfil to gain that end. I cannot get there by sitting still unless I only want to go there in my dreams. Then, upon achieving my goal I am satisfied that I have reached the desired end. There is no question that I wanted to be in China and now I am in China. In a similar way, my problem that I feel cold is known to me and the solution is thereby clear that I require a thing or a setup which will provide me warmth.
Once these things are known, my life gains a direction. The problems or yearnings, no matter how unpleasant and distracting, are reduced to means and ends. There is a clarity about them.
But then, one does not find the situations in life so clear-cut. Either, I want to gain something, an object, a place, a situation, a state of mind, an achievement etc., or I want to rid myself of a particular state of mind or situation. I adopt what seems to be the proper means and even achieve the soughtafter end, but I do not seem to get the desired result, the desire being some form of satisfaction. If I am hungry and fulfil the hunger by eating, I should gain the satisfaction of having my hunger appeased, for that is the end sought, not the food. In the same way, if any one or a series of desired ends is attained I should be a satisfied person. My desire should be satiated. If I find a solution to a problem that is troubling me, I should be a satisfied person, for it was only because of that problem or that unattained end that I was dissatisfied. At some point, after putting forth proper efforts I should cease to be a dissatisfied being. If that does not happen, two reasonable questions to ask would be
(i) Is the end I wish to attain clear to me ? and
(ii) Is the problem I want to solve clear to me ?
It is from this very simple standpoint that we start the Vedantic enquiry: first ascertain the nature of the problem that is to be solved and that, in turn, will reveal the nature of the solution. Or we can approach it from the standpoint of ascertaining what end one is actually seeking and that will determine the necessary means. And so, we begin by simply stripping away the particulars and looking at the very urge in man for seeking ends and solving problems.
All of man’s problems and seeking originate in his mind. When he is in deep sleep, he is not conscious of any struggle. There is nothing he wants to change, nothing he wants to do. But when awake or dreaming, his peace of mind is constantly being challenged by thoughts and situations. And his urge is to resolve all disturbances, to make things better.
This is the glory of the human mind that it has a unique capacity to enquire into the nature and meaning of things, to reason out, to analyse, to appreciate subtleties, to imagine, to conceptualise, to come to conclusions, to make choices.
An animal makes minimum choices governed by its inborn instinct and the urge to survive. For example, a cow instinctively fulfils the need to nourish its body by eating grass. It does not deliberate to be a vegetarian. It does not insist, either, that the only way to enjoy the grass is with a special gourmet sauce. An animal’s instincts allow it to sustain its life and the consequence of that urge for survival is the attraction to that which supports and enhances its survival and a retreat from that which is painful or which threatens the survival of its body. Similarly, man wants his body with its various systems to survive and function without pain, disease or situations which threaten it. And these natural urges of the body must be fulfilled in order for the system to continue thriving. Whatever is born moves naturally toward sustaining its life and away from terminating it. But then, man has an intellect, a thinking faculty and mere bodily survival does not make his life. He not only wants to continue living but to live in a particular way.
If man naturally seeks to sustain his life, he also seeks to fulfil the natural urges of the mind. And his mind being an instrument of reason, seeks a certain modicum of clarity. It moves, shifts, and changes but still it does not like confusion or ignorance. It wants to make sense of things, it wants to know, it wants to feel at ease with its thoughts and moods, it wants to be at home in its environment. This mind of man makes him self-conscious and self-aware. And being aware of himself he cannot but be a desirer, a seeker. It means, the very essence of man’s life is that he is after ends. They may be lofty, profound, or profane. Nevertheless, at any moment in man’s life, we find that the life he leads is but an expression of the desires entertained by him till and at that point. Although the specific want varies from person to person and from time to time in one person, what does not vary is, “I want.” In every sought-after end is the desire, “l want something that will make me different from what I am now.’’ Although one may want to attain a particular thing or a situation or to rid oneslef of another, what one actually wants is something pervasive and elusive. It is an unqualified want. All that one knows is that the self he/she now is, is not the one he/she wants to be. Having a mind that is self-conscious, one is appreciative of a lack, something that one missed in oneself and being possessed of the mind that is an instrument of reason, one looks into this unqualified want and qualifies it according to one’s understanding and values.
What man really wants is to be free from want. That “I want” is exactly what one does not want. To fulfil a desire is actually to get rid of it. Therefore, to say “I want’’ is really to say, “I don’t want to have any want”.
Still one cannot help but want, because being self-conscious one is conscious of one’s incompleteness. If one does not take oneself to be incomplete, one would not want to be different from what one is. And this sense of incompleteness expresses itself through the seeking of different ends. This is not something one cultivates or learns in time. An infant is also a desirer. It may not know exactly what it wants, but in addition to merely wanting to live, it also wants that which will make it feel good, happy, secure etc.. As one grows, one’s desires become defined, refined, and constantly renovated according to one’s cultivated likes and dislikes, ethics, values, and whims and moods at a given moment.
Thus, we find that in addition to the basic urge to survive, there seems to be another basic urge to have things well with me and that manifests in the mind: “I want to be full. complete, adequate, fulfilled, happy, self-possessed.” However one says it, it amounts to the same thing. And unlike all the cultivated desires for specific ends that one picks up in time, this one seems to come along with birth. It is a desire that one’s forefathers had. No one has to be told that being full, happy, is a desirable thing.
In order to satisfy that urge one seeks something, be it an object, a situation etc., believing or hoping that a change in a given condition will result in or bring one closer to the full person one wants to be.
The water-buffalo does not desire to live in Brooklyn or to go to the Himalayas for a vacation or to change its hairstyle or to become a cow. But man always wants to change some aspect of his situation. Man is aware of his incompleteness and cannot stand it. And this urge to be full, complete, is not a peculiar trait of some particular man: it is common to all human beings of all times. It is implicit in any action that extends beyond mere instinctual bodily survival. It is, in fact, the desire behind all topical desires, the fundamentall desire, the mother desire, for it is the desire which gives birth to all desires and motivations.
One chooses to dress in a particular way, buy a summer house, get a better job, have a meaningful relationship, rid oneself of bad habits... etc. etc.. Why ? Not for the sake of the thing itself, but for one’s own sake, for what the thing will invoke in one when it is gained.
It is important that this be seen for this is the end one is really after.
The Means of Completeness
Having determined the end, we should now be able to arrive at the appropriate and adequate means to achieve that end. But first let us see what is meant when we say one wants to be complete, full adequate. This particular “state of mind” or experience we seek, is known to all of us. And since it is known, we have all our searches and struggles for it. For when I was happy at a particular time, I was free of all my limitations, I was myself. It is that self I love to be, live to be, I seek to be in all my desired ends. Could I call that completeness I seek as something limited, something relative ? If what I am seeking is actually that specific object, then I am, in fact, seeking a limited end, for all objects are limited in time and space. The completeness one seeks cannot be limited because whatever is limited is dependent on factors other than itself for its sustenance, and is therefore incomplete. At the present moment, one is dependent upon a number of things and situations for the sense of well-being. And it is this very dependency which gives one a sense of incompleteness. What one wants is freedom from dependency, because otherwise one’s well-being is at the mercy of conditions which themselves are subject to change, based on yet other conditions. Thus, if behind all one’s seeking and struggles, what one actually sought was only another state - just like the one that obtains at present - there would be no sense in any pursuit.
Completeness or fullness is not a measureable entity. It is not a finite quantity - that I keep adding things to myself and one day I become full and complete. That is like saying 1000 units of achievements will make me full, but subtract one and I become incomplete. This thinking is fallacious and that kind of fullness is not even within the realm of experience for we find that the person with name, fame and fortune is not necessarily the fulfilled person. Such a person in fact is found to be seeking more.
If in every desire one has, what one really wants is to put an end to the wanting person, it is clear that the wanting person will not go unless the person is already complete, limitless, lacking nothing. Then alone can one say “enough”. Is it realistic and reasonable to say that I want to be free from want ? It is, because what one finds is that no matter what the gain, no matter how rewarding it be for the time being, one does not cease being a seeker, a desirer after ends. No end satisfies that urge for completeness. In fact, there is the expression “that’s life” in commiseration with the fact that built into the nature of every gain, is a quality which makes it fall short of its intended mark. One either laughs or weeps at that fact and goes on to the next pursuit, as though it will bring one closer to the end. In addition to the temporariness of all acquired ends is the fact that my values my moods are constantly changing and so the one who is receiving the sought-after end is not exactly the one who was seeking it. So even the impact of the gain loses its potency or meaning. Then, too, the gain itself is limited. For every gain there is always a price, always a loss. If nothing else, there is the loss of the prior condition. And even as one is reading these pages, one is losing the opportunity to watch television which may be equally appealing. One has to choose. Under no circumstances can I physically be here and there also at the same time. Any choice has to necessarily involve a negation, an elimination and we always hope we have chosen the befter alternative. Thus all that we find in the world is the limited ends.
What we have discerned logically and experientially, is that what a man seeks in his heart is to be free of limitation; he wants an end that does not come to an end. Perhaps we do not know the nature of such an end, because we do not seem to have employed the proper means. Can there be a means which would result in a limitless end? For gaining the ends one has not yet achieved, there is a spectrum of means available in the world. Between an end to be accomplished and the one who wants to accomplish it there is always a distance a gap in terms of time and/or space. And to bridge that gap vie must put forth the proper effort, be it physical or mental. But then, what one can produce by effort will always be limited, because the very effort itself is limited.
An action cannot produce a result that is not inherent therein. I cannot walk lying down. An action can only produce a result which is appropriate to that action. So by the very laws inherent in any action, we find that what we gain in the world is limited, whereas what we seek is limitless. It is really what you call a Catch-22. And it is logical. I am limited and I go after something, which is limited through limited means. Insecure plus insecure (being bound by time) equals insecure. Incomplete plus a million equals the same incomplete, because that is logical and it is also our experience. A finite sum like one and a finite sum like a million are both equally away from infinity. So in discovering the end one is really seeking, what we have done is to arrive at the problem one is really facing. And that is: one cannot help but seek completeness, yet there is nothing available by which one can gain it.
This is the realization of a mumuksu. And although there may be a sense of despair upon this realization, it is not a state of self-condemnation but of self-appreciation, for that is the nature of the solution.
At the moment, though, there still seems to be one remaining alternative. We seem to have gotten ourselves into a corner and the only solution one can conceive of, is to give up this desire for completeness and accept the fact that life consists only of limited and relative gains. After all we know that any desire one picks up in time can also be given up in time by growing out of it through a change in values, education, outlook, or by will, knowing it to be an impossibility. But just as one cannot give up the urge to nourish the body one cannot give up the urge for completeness, happiness. Try! This is what makes it the fundamental problem. The problem is natural and what is natural should be meaningful. As a natural urge, the desire to be limitless must have a solution as even other natural urges, like hunger, thirst etc. have. And whatever is natural about the self is always gladly accepted. For example, no one complains “My eyes see.” No one is irritated because there are eyeballs in the eye sockets. But if there is a small speck of dust in the eye, you cannot stand it. Even the physiological system cannot accept those bugs that do not belong to the system; in fact, there takes place a big battle leading to the body running a temperature because the intruders must be rejected. Similarly, no one wants to remain inadequate, unhappy, incomplete. All these are conditions the mind cannot accept. One wants to shake them off. Why ? Because they are intruders, they are unnatural. Since one is opposite of what one cannot stand, it is natural for one to be without them. Therefore, one naturally goes about working for that which is one’s own nature and ridding oneself of the intruders.
If I cannot stand sorrow and agitation, my nature must be happiness, peacefulness. Otherwise why should I not stand sorrow ? I should be quite at home with sorrow if it is my nature. But I am not, because like a virus, it is an intruder.
Thus all I seek is my own nature. Whatever I seek I am. But then, if it is, so why do I miss it ? I cannot miss myself. Still, if I keep missing it and keep searching for it, through countless plans and schemes doing endless things, the search, I say, stems from self-disowning, self-ignorance.
The problem is now clear. It is a problem of a kind, different from ordinary problems, for the end is of a different nature. What I want to gain is not something away from me, not something different from me, not something yet to be achieved. What I want to gain is what I want to be. What I want is myself. The means for this end must be of a nature different from just putting forth effort, however great that effort be.
If either going after, or getting away from something is not involved, does that mean that without any motion one will become complete? Yes, but then the word “become” has no meaning here, for, every becoming involves a change and a change involves a loss. If without a change I am to “become” complete, then clearly it must be the gain of the already gained.
It is because of this, that this search always seems to be shrouded in mystery. What one is seeking is hidden in the most secretive of the hiding places, in the very seeker himself. In the very act of seeking, one is denying the sought, for all one can seek is what is different from oneself.
If what one seeks is already gained, one is ignorant of the fact and the only means for gaining it is knowledge. I seek to be the possessor of my eyeglasses, which I have absent mindedly placed on the top of my head and I go about searching for it. All efforts are in vain. I simply do not know that I already own them. It is that knowledge that will make me the possessor of the glasses.
The seeker and the sought are identical. The problem is one of ignorance. Therefore the solution can only be knowledge.
If there is such a thing as self-disowning and self-ignorance, there must be such a thing as self-knowledge. That is what the mumuksu comes to seek - and that is Vedanta.
What is the Nature of Self?
When we talk about self-knowledge, we have to determine what that self is that I am. What do we mean when we say “I” ? It is an irony that the word “I”, which we use constantly throughout the day and from the standpoint of which we view and judge the world, has no definite object for it in our mind.
Any word I use elicits an external object or a concept in the mind. I utter the word “pot’’ and a thought-form corresponding to the object pot occurs. This is how communication takes place. If I hear the word “pot” and see a “cot”, you would say that my knowledge is erroneous; if I see nothing you would say I am totally ignorant of the object “pot”. If I use the word “gagaboogai” - a meaningless word - I use it as just that but definitely not to connote something specific in the world. Every word has a corresponding object. But when I say I-I-I-I-I-I hundreds of times in a day, who is this I ? Who is this, that I experience so intimately, that is myself`? For it seems it is this I who is unhappy, who can’t get his life together, who wants to fulfil his potential, his capacities, who wants a meaningful relationship, who does not want to suffer, and who now wants to know himself. I want to address this I, I want to see this I. Who is he ?
Upon enquiring into who I am, it is clear that I am a conscious being and that everything other than I is the world. That is, we can reduce the entire creation into two factors: one, the subject and the other, the object. Anything one can objectify is the object and the one who objectifies is the subject. In an object, one does not have the “l” notion, the “I” sense. I am not where the object is, because it is something I know. “I” is always the subject. And an object need not always be a tangible thing; there are also intangible things we appreciate and come to know. I am aware of time and space, for example, which are not tangible things but are still objects of my knowledge.
Although it is quite clear that “I” is the subject and as the subject is distinct from any object of knowledge, one tends to conclude that the physical body is I, the subject. It is the intimate experience of everyone, that “I” is confined to the extremities of the physical body, and the world is that which exists outside its boundaries. I do not exist, for example in the space between my fingers, while, there is certainly no remoteness about the feeling of pain taking place, even in some remote corner of the body. When my toe is hurt, I am hurt. I know my body with all its corners and crevices. Thus, we tend to overlook the fact that the physical body is as well an object of knowledge for us, as it is for others also.
Now the subject and the object are two distinctly different entities. The knower of anything is distinct from the thing he knows. Therefore, I cannot be the physical body. Similarly, I cannot attribute the identity of “I” to any function or system of the body, because it involves the same subject-object, knower-known relationship. For example. my sense organs are known to me as are their functions. When I say, “I am tall”, “I am short”, with reference to the body, or I say “I am hungry” with reference to the physiological system, or I say “I am blind”, with reference to a sense organ, it is all with reference to something just as one says “I am uncle”, “I am cousin”, “I am father”, etc. with reference to different people. Clearly, “I” is not any of these nor a composite of these. In each case I am looking at myself only from a particular standpoint, which is objectifiable. Every situation, from moment to moment, naturally invokes in you a person relevant to that situation (i.e. when I see my son, I am father etc.). It is this relative “I” that we are confronting all the time. And it is this relative “I” that has all the problems. “I” as daughter has a problem. “I” as short person has a problem etc.. Never do we confront the “I”, that is present in all these relative roles. That is, if there is an absolute “I”, a central “I”, an “I” as such, there is no occasion when that “I” is known.
When I commit an error, taking myself to be other than the complete self, that error cannot be beneficial to me; it involves a great loss for me. “I” is free from any limitation and I have concluded that I am the body and am taking onto myself all its limitations. If I am not the physical body nor the sense organs nor the physiological systems nor any relative role I play, then what is that “I” ? I must be the mind. Mind means what ? You do not mean that you are the tangible brain. The brain itself is an object. Then, the functions of the brain are known too. That is the thoughts of the mind are as well known to me as any object. Every perception, conclusion, doubt is known. Restlessness, depression, agitation are all known to me. Furthermore any one thought cannot be “I”, because when the thought goes, somehow “I” remains. Thus, when I say “I am restless”, “I am agitated”, I am speaking only of conditions that belong to the mind. I am not the mind, for I am the one who is aware of all thoughts. The thoughts come and go and I remain. Before the thought arrives, while the thought is and even after it goes away, I am very much present, which means I am independent of thought.
In Sanskrit, we call the mind with its various functions as antahkarana. Karana means instrument. So the mind is an instrument, capable of giving me knowledge, imaginations, memories, emotions, problems. Being an instrument, it must necessarily be in the hands of someone different from it, like any other instrument (the telescope does not see through itself). Therfore, “I” cannot be the mind. You could say perhaps that what is different from all this is ignorance, but even ignorance is known to me. What I know I know, and what I do not know also I know. (I know, for example, that I am ignorant of Russian language.)
Therefore, if you analyse you would have to say: I am... I am... I am... I ammm. I exist and I know. I am but a knower of various things. Things I know vary, but I am the one who knows all the time. But here, we have to go one more step. For, if I am the knower of all these, I am the knower only when there is something to know. That is, with reference to things known, I am the knower. If I reduce the identity of “l” to knower, what does “knower” mean ? It means the one who is aware of I am the awarer. Awarer and knower are functional words. The er is added with reference to a function like driver, speaker meaning, “the one who”, and it is again a relative name. The “I” I want to know, is the one who is unrelated to anything. And that can only be the content of the knower, the awarer, which is awareness. This unqualified awareness is the meaning of the word “I”. If you place the “I” anywhere other than in the subject, the ultimate subject, awareness, you commit a mistake.
In the body, awareness is. In the thoughts, awareness is. But awareness is also independent of both. Both depend on awareness for their existence. Awareness depends on nothing. It is self-existent, self-evident. Once I see that I am this awareness, which is independent, on which all thoughts and the objects thereof depend, I am free from all possible limitations that I can ever suffer from.
The Self is Fullness
Our lives are spent seeking happiness. We consider happiness or fullness to be a state of mind... an experience. Being an experience, it comes and goes. It does not stay for long and even at that, it has to be worked for and hoarded, for its brief moment of glory.
What is this happiness and where is it ? In the Vedantic teaching, the self is said to be of the nature of ananda, which means fullness. If the self is pure Awareness, it is formless, having no characteristics to circumscribe it; it is free from all limitations. It is the very fullness, the very happiness one seeks. It must be clear that fullness is not the quality of an object outside... nor is it somewhere inside the physical body. Since happiness often coincides with the gain of a desired end or condition, we attribute it to the very end or condition. The fact is, at that moment the mind is not wanting nor projecting. It is a wonderful moment, for I am simply with myself. And so the happiness, fullness which seems to come and go, dependent on various conditions, is really present all the time as the nature of one’s own self. I am that fullness always but because of ignorance about myself, I take myself to be other than what I am. The truth about myself is covered by ignorance like the sun being covered by clouds. The sun does not change nor does it cease shining, but it appears other than what it is, when covered by clouds.
The self which is said to be cit (awareness) and ananda (fullness) is also said to be sat, that which always is, which cannot be negated.
We showed in the beginning that all man’s urges and pursuits thereupon, if reduced to their fundamental forms, would be expressed in the desire to live and live happily and to be free from ignorance. When the teaching properly unfolds the nature of the self, its identity is revealed as:
Sat = existence which can never be negated,
Cit = awareness, the basis of all that is known,
Ananda = fullness, without limit.
If awareness is the real rneaning of “I”, “I” is no more a historical person. All the problems one suffers from belong to the historical I, the relative I, the falsely identified I, to the role one plays at any given moment. It is something like an actor who, playing the part of a beggar, takes the hunger and poverty of the beggar home with him after the show. And then, again, in saying,” l am restless”, “I am depressed”, “I am fat”, “I am lean”, all these problems belong in fact, to that which is the object of one’s knowledge and not to the subject who witnesses them. It is something like watching a congested traffic scene and saying, “I am congested”. Yet, we watch the traffic-flow of our thoughts and take its various conditions as belonging to the self. It is true, the mind is agitated, the body is fat. These problems belong to the mind and the body, not to I. This knowledge puts one’s immediate problems in the proper perspective. The problems belong to the object, not to the subject. That is true objectivity.
A wise man, a liberated being, knowing himself to be full and complete, is thus always full and complete, in spite of his situation and is not dependent on a situation or a thing or a condition to be full. You could say he is master of himself, because he knows the truth of himself.
In knowing the truth of oneself, one naturally comes to know the truth of the world, of the objects of one’s knowledge. (We have not even begun to touch this subject in this article). The problem that he originally took as being real and was therefore in dire need of resolving, he now sees as belonging to a false entity. He knows. “I am the one who gives reality to that entity.” “I have no problem”, “I am so full and complete that nothing can add anything to me nor can take anything from me”. That is seeing oneself and one’s life as they are. Only then can a topical problem be tackled for what it really is. There is a total release in this knowledge, for one is no longer a creature in the world.
The Methodology of Teaching
All I have said here, are a few words on paper and Vedanta has always been an oral tradition of teaching, passed from teacher to student. It is said to be a pramana, that which is instrumental in giving rise to knowledge. It is taken by those who come to it as serious dedicated students, to be a means of knowledge, as true as the eyes are a means of knowledge for knowing the colour and form of a physical object. Thus, two things are involved: the teacher and the student. As an oral tradition, it requires a teacher who handles the words, unlocks the meaning behind the words. To say, “You are full, you are limitless,” is one thing: To make the student see what that actually means, is another. If that is not done, the words just result into another conditioning.
There is a reason for the need for this methodology and it rests in the very nature of the subject-matter. What I want to know, is what I want to be, is what I am. And this I cannot be objectified and thus is not available for any known means of knowledge. All available means of knowledge, be it perception. presumption, inference, or illustration involve some sensory data. The only means of knowledge which has the scope to reveal the self, is the word. But even the word, producing thoughts in the mind, generally reveals but an object, which is different from the subject. To gain any knowledge, that knowledge must necessarily take place in the mind. But anything that can be objectified by the mind, is other than the subject. Furthermore, all I have available to communicate with, are known words, and known words can only produce knowledge of that which is known. If I say to you, You are “brahman”, the meaning of the word “brahman” is unknown to you. So I say, “Brahman means the limitless.” “Limitless” has no co-relative object in the known world and so all I can really communicate is a vague notion or a subjective concept (i.e. whatever you take the word to mean).
Thus, self being unique, it being neither an object nor a concept, yet undeniably present, the communication of it requires very special handling of words. Words must be elaborately defined, so that what is meant by the teacher is what is received by the student. Paradoxes must be juggled, illustrations handled, contexts set up, so that the implied meaning of words can be seen. For this, a teacher who knows the truth as well as the methodology for revealing it is necessary.
Secondly, the one who comes to learn this, comes to it with a particular attitude. Being a mumuksu, he has discerned to a degree, the nature of the problem and so there is a receptivity, an openness to what the teacher teaches. Because, what is being sought is not the solution to a relative problem; not the opinion of one man which may or may not be confirmed by additional information; not a speculative philosophy, or a system, or a school of thought which may be usurped at a later date by a greater intellect. What is sought, is very simply the Truth. This really distinguishes it from all other types of learning and problem-solvirig. And, we find that in the very learning process, is a love and a trust that comes from the relief of discovering the means to what you really want to gain. The teacher is not an authority, but is more akin to a candle who is going to light another candle.
Thus, this knowledge gives man, the end that he was seeking in all his pursuits and solves all problems in the sense that the true nature of the owner of the problem and the true nature of the problem itself is seen.
Om Tat Sat
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