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The Spiritual Import of the Mahabharata
and the Bhagavadgita

by Swami Krishnananda

Chapter 7: The Art of Meditation (Continued)

What is this objective? It is the higher self. The higher self also has degrees; we cannot suddenly jump to the highest Self. It is impossible to have even a conception of what the highest Self is. So we have various techniques of meditation wherein we are asked to regard a conceptual self as higher than our present self. The devatas, the deities, the bhagavans of bhakti yoga, the various angels and the digdevatas, the guardians of cosmos, the various gods that we worship in the religions of the world, are all the higher selves, tentatively accepted as necessary objects of meditation, because we have to move from the present state of our self to the immediately succeeding higher self. We cannot have the consciousness of what is beyond that.

For this purpose one has to regulate oneself with a sort of self-discipline, and yoga is self-discipline. Therefore it is necessary to put an end to all distractions, and a distraction is nothing but an agitation of the senses with respect to the objects outside, together with the similar and sympathetic attitude of the mind and the intellect. The mind, intellect and senses have all to be brought under control at one stroke. For this, a little hint has been given also in the third chapter where, in connection with the control of the emotions of the mind, the suggestion given was that: Indriyani parany ahur indriyebhyah param manah, manasas tu para buddhir yo buddheh paratas tu sah—something comparable to a similar verse occurring in the Katha Upanishad. “Above the senses is the mind, above the mind is the intellect, and above intellect is the higher Self.” So, one can control the senses by the mind, and control the mind by the intellect, and control the intellect by the Self. While there is some sort of a similarity of structure and function among the intellect, the mind and the senses, the Self stands apart from all these. The similarity of the intellect, mind and senses in their structure and function is this: they somehow or other acquiesce in their relationship with objects outside. But the Self has no object outside. That is the important distinction that we have to draw between the Self and the intellect, the mind and the senses. So, the intellect, the mind, and the senses can be subdued only by resort to the consciousness of the Self. What is the Self? The Self on which we have to meditate is that which includes the object towards which the senses are moving, and the direction in which the mind also is contemplating.

For the purpose of the achievement of this great success in yoga, one has to carefully regulate one’s daily activity. Various types of advice are given to us—we are to be socially free and free from family engagements, we should not have harassment of any kind outside, and emotionally we should be calm. We should not have tension in the nerves, not even in the muscles; all tension should cease. When we are seated in an atmosphere of distraction, we are automatically in a state of tension, and therefore we are asked to move away from human society and be in a secluded place for some time, at least, until we are masters of our own selves. Gradually, says the Bhagavadgita, the senses have to be brought back to their own source. Sanaih sanair uparamed buddhya dhriti-grihitaya, atma-samstham manah krtva na kincid api cintayet.

Gradually, slowly we have to educate the senses, the mind and the intellect, just as a father and a mother educate their children. The children should not be spanked, or threatened, or given unpleasant advice, even if they are going to school. So, a Montessori method or a psychological method, whatever we may call it, may have to be applied in educating the senses. We are like parents, and the senses are like children. Children are very unwieldy. We know very well that all children are naughty; they have their own ways, and it is very difficult to educate them unless, in the earlier stages, we are able to understand the emotions that work in their minds and their idiosyncrasies. So the senses, the mind and the intellect have to be gradually subdued very slowly, just as when we chew our food, slowly from the gross condition it becomes a little pulpy, and they from the pulpy condition it becomes liquid, and from the liquid condition it becomes very subtly adjustable to the alimentary canal of the whole body, then it is digested. If we suddenly gulp solid food into the stomach, it cannot be digested.

Likewise, we have to understand our weaknesses and also our strengths. One of the important things that a yogi or a meditator should do is to investigate into his own self. He has to become his own teacher; he is his own psychologist; he is even a doctor and physician. We have some strength of our own, it is true, but we also have weaknesses. The weaknesses are many a time known to us, and sometimes not known to us. But it is not difficult to know our weaknesses, because when we are absolutely alone we are free, to a large extent, to think in an impartial manner. We are not able to think in an impartial manner when we are in a public place or with a huge group of people, where our minds are diverted in a different direction altogether. When we are absolutely alone for a protracted period, we will be able to know our own subconscious, our desires which are vehemently troubling us—and we have to know how to deal with these desires.

Desires are the impulsions of consciousness in the direction of objects outside, and these impulses are like torrents of flood that bursts the bounds and damages villages and cities. Likewise can be the state of the meditator if he builds a dam across a river which is in flood. He has to have an outlet, a little gate through which the flooding water can escape and the dam may not burst. But if we block the water completely, under the impression that we can control it, there will be devastation and catastrophe. We are a dynamo and a magazine of power, like a river which has been dammed by the building up of a barrage. Hence, it is necessary to know where we have to exercise control, in what measure, to what extent, in what manner, etc. Like a physician treating a patient, we know that we cannot give the same medicine always. We check the patient’s temperature every day, whether it is high or low or normal, and look for possible complications. Many methods are involved in treating diseases, so there is no stereotyped treatment along a beaten path in medical psychology.

So is yoga. It is not a beaten track that we are running on directly, as if it is an open highway, but it is a zigzag path where at every moment of time we should exercise caution. We have to know where our emotions stand, and where our intellect and mind are directing themselves; what are our achievements and what are our problems. Many a time this will be a hard affair, because it is easy to control others, but it is not so easy to control one’s own self. Therefore a Guru is necessary. In the earlier stages, when we are just chanting a few mantras or rolling a few beads, it may look as if everything is fine—everything is milk and honey. But if we are sincere and honest and really go deep into our own selves, we will find wonder, to our surprise, and we will be unraveling mysteries of our own self of which we had no prior awareness. We will become a miracle to our own self. We will be surprised. “I am this person. I never knew that.” When we are confronted with our real personality that is placed before our eyes, we will not know how to face it. At that time we require a teacher, as in the case of psychoanalysis there is a well-versed guide who knows how to manipulate the mind of a person who is diseased mentally, and in which case the true personality has been projected out by various mechanisms of psychology. This is exactly psychoanalysis, which one does for one’s own self, where all that is inside us is brought to the conscious level.

What is called psychoanalysis is nothing but the simple process of bringing the subconscious and unconscious to the conscious level. We are not aware of what we are inside us. Therefore many a time we have moods; we have whims and fancies; we think differently on different days. Suddenly some thought comes, and we do not know why this thought has come. We say, “Well, I thought differently. Yesterday’s thought was different; now I give up that idea.” Why did we give up that idea? We do not know what we are inside. Something that has been working and trying to get matured has suddenly come up to the conscious level. A deliberate process of bringing out the inner residue of the subconscious to the conscious level is to be attempted, and this is done by concentration. This process cannot be achieved by diversification of thought. Whenever we concentrate our minds, it is like hitting the subconscious with a hammer—it bursts. Otherwise it is like a hard nut which does not let out all its secrets. Concentration is a death blow that is dealt at the very root of the subconscious and the unconscious levels; that is why the mind resents concentration. Nobody likes concentration; they get fed up. Ask anybody to concentrate continuously. They get tired and run away from that place for a long walk, because the mind is very unhappy, as if it is a thief who is going to be detected. A thief is very uncomfortable in a public assembly; he wants to escape, somehow or other, if he is going to be pinpointed and interrogated. So if we go on attacking this subconscious by concentration, again and again, thinking only that, it resents, and the resentment of the subconscious creates various complications. We become unhappy and give up the practice itself.

All this is very difficult to practice, says Arjuna—cancalam hi manah krsna pramathi balavad drdham. The mind is very fickle and impetuous, and we don’t know how to control it, just as we cannot control the clouds. But, abhyasena tu kaunteya vairagyena ca grhyate—by a real dispassionate attitude towards all externals and a persistent tenacity in the daily practice of concentration, we can subdue the mind. And finally, the great love that we have for the higher Self is itself a potent method of subduing the lower self. Towards the end of the sixth chapter there is a beautiful message for us, by which we are given solace that things are not as difficult as they appear to be. Sarva-bhuta-stham atmanam sarva-bhutani catmani, iksate yoga-yukta-atma sarvatra sama-darsanah: One who is in the state of the Self perceives the higher Self in such a manner that it is recognised in other persons also. All beings are seen in the Self, and the Self is seen in all beings. The vehemence exerted by the objects upon the senses decreases in its intensity when they are meditated upon as parts of one’s own Self. But if we reject them by force of renunciation, not having any positive attitude towards them, then they may do harm by retaliating or wrecking vengeance.

Therefore, the advice here is that the higher Self has to be recognised not merely in one’s own personality, but also in other beings—sarva-bhuta-stham atmanam, sarvatra sama-darsanah. Yo mam pasyati sarvatra sarvam ca mayi pasyati, tasyaham na pranasymi sa ca me na pranasyati: “He who sees Me everywhere and sees everything in Me, to him I am never lost, and he is never lost to Me,” says the Great Lord. God is ever with us as the supreme Guru and Guide, provided that we wholeheartedly surrender ourselves to Him. He is the highest Self, and when we are able to gravitate the mind and the intellect towards this highest Self, force descends automatically from there. In the same way as we touch a high voltage wire and draw energy, and we feel charged with that energy because we have touched a live wire, so it is, as it were, God is the highest live wire. The moment we contact Him inwardly, energy flows. But, it is not easy to contact that highest Self. So the layers of self are to be regarded as higher selves, by degrees. For this purpose the answer given by Bhagavan Sri Krishna to Arjuna’s query is that though all this may appear so difficult, it will become easy by daily practice.

When we were babies we could not even walk; we fell down many a time and injured our knees. When we learned bicycling we fell down many times, and so on. Swimming, cycling, walking—all these are difficult things, but once we master the technique, we can run without even being aware of our legs. Those who are master swimmers do not become conscious of the water in which they are swimming. People who are masters in cycling do not think of the cycle on which they are sitting, and when we walk, we do not even know that we have legs. But when we were babies we were very conscious, and therefore we fell. So, practice makes perfect.

Gradual, honest desire to move away from distractive atmospheres and to concentrate the mind on the higher Being is mumukshutva, and is itself a potent aid. And finally, surrender of self to God. The surrender of the lower self to the higher Self is again, to reiterate, done by stages, by gradual isolation in the beginning—socially, physically, and finally even psychologically. We must find ourselves in a psychological sequestration, not merely physical isolation. We find ourselves alone even mentally, and then the mind comes down on an emotional level and a perceptional level—then it is that we can be said to be in state of proper concentration. Atma-samstham manah krtva na kincid api cintayet: After the mind has established itself in its own root, which is the Atman, there is no necessity to think anything. All thought is external and is lodged in objects outside, but when it has been weaned from objects and centred in the inner selfhood of non-objectivity, no thought is permitted, na kincidapi cintayet, and an unknown joy bursts from within like the sun shining in the midst of dark clouds when the mind returns to its own source. All happiness, whatever be its nature, is only a modicum of the tendency of the mind to return to the Self within. The more we go inside, the more are we happy, so that when we are perfectly established in our Self, we are in the state of highest happiness. The seer establishes himself in himself when consciousness rests in its own Self; chit becomes sat and when cit becomes sat, it becomes ananda, and one exists in a state of the highest divinity.