Page 157 of 207 ·
Jump to page #:
Go
· Jump To Random Page 
Even after realising the Self, don't be surprised if your mind sends thoughts like: ' Now, you are boring!' or ‘You are always going to be alone,’ or, ‘It cannot be this simple,’ whatever might catch your attention, it will try.
In fact, it will keep sending little messages to see which key works to break your resolve so that you return to the old false identity; such is the game of existence.
The fire of the mind may go out, but its smoke lingers on awhile.
Don't panic, at a certain point you may even see the humor in it.
Simply, remain as the unchanging, imageless Self you are.
In fact, it will keep sending little messages to see which key works to break your resolve so that you return to the old false identity; such is the game of existence.
The fire of the mind may go out, but its smoke lingers on awhile.
Don't panic, at a certain point you may even see the humor in it.
Simply, remain as the unchanging, imageless Self you are.
Be aware now of that effortless silence and space.
You don’t know if it is inside or outside.
There is no edge, no boundary for your being.
Confirm that.
In this instant, in this moment,
observe that your being is not in a state of waiting.
The pure Self is not an event. If there is an event,
it is the event of recognizing this ever-present fact.
That already IS.
Do not purchase the futuristic promises from the mind.
Once you have said 'Yes' inside your heart,
the whole universe supports your seeing,
because it is natural.
Don't try strenuously to figure things out.
Pay attention instead only to that space - like being,
which is beyond time and change,
but in who's presence such phenomena are perceived.
Devote as much attention to staying conscious of the Self until it becomes effortless for you.
Om.
You don’t know if it is inside or outside.
There is no edge, no boundary for your being.
Confirm that.
In this instant, in this moment,
observe that your being is not in a state of waiting.
The pure Self is not an event. If there is an event,
it is the event of recognizing this ever-present fact.
That already IS.
Do not purchase the futuristic promises from the mind.
Once you have said 'Yes' inside your heart,
the whole universe supports your seeing,
because it is natural.
Don't try strenuously to figure things out.
Pay attention instead only to that space - like being,
which is beyond time and change,
but in who's presence such phenomena are perceived.
Devote as much attention to staying conscious of the Self until it becomes effortless for you.
Om.
I would not encourage anybody to try to study life, because you can never get it. No one can even begin to comprehend a moment of its magnificence, its mystery, its sheer glory.
You have to fall fully in Love with the very heart of existence and then its essence is miraculously revealed to you somehow – a kind of an intuitive knowing happens out of this love.
But to study life doesn’t work, because your attitude and even you, the student, is phenomenal.
You have to first fall inside yourself until there is no longer ‘you’ and ‘life’—there is only Life. There is no ‘person’ living life. There is just Life expressing itself in, as and through this form called a person, watched simultaneously in pure consciousness.
How funny that the simplest of teachings seems to be the most difficult. This is like a circus of concepts. We fight, creating devils out of nowhere, in order to defend our identity—sheer ignorance.
Now I’ve said it and now I want to see it alive in you. I want to see it germinate inside your heart. It must flower, bear fruit and give shade. That’s it.
You have to fall fully in Love with the very heart of existence and then its essence is miraculously revealed to you somehow – a kind of an intuitive knowing happens out of this love.
But to study life doesn’t work, because your attitude and even you, the student, is phenomenal.
You have to first fall inside yourself until there is no longer ‘you’ and ‘life’—there is only Life. There is no ‘person’ living life. There is just Life expressing itself in, as and through this form called a person, watched simultaneously in pure consciousness.
How funny that the simplest of teachings seems to be the most difficult. This is like a circus of concepts. We fight, creating devils out of nowhere, in order to defend our identity—sheer ignorance.
Now I’ve said it and now I want to see it alive in you. I want to see it germinate inside your heart. It must flower, bear fruit and give shade. That’s it.
All thinking is in duality. In identity with Atman/Brahman, no thought survives.
Shariputra,
form does not differ from emptiness,
emptiness does not differ from form.
That which is form is emptiness,
that which is emptiness form.
The same is true of feelings,
perceptions, impulses, consciousness.
form does not differ from emptiness,
emptiness does not differ from form.
That which is form is emptiness,
that which is emptiness form.
The same is true of feelings,
perceptions, impulses, consciousness.
He has only to act according to the words of the master and work inwardly. The master is both ‘within’ and ‘without’, so he creates conditions to drive you inward and at the same time prepares the ‘interior’ to drag you to the Centre. Thus he gives a push from ‘without’ and exerts a pull from ‘within’ so that you may be fixed at the Centre.
What is the Ultimate Understanding? That there is no one to understand anything.
Silence is the most potent form of work. However vast and emphatic the scriptures may be, they fail in their effect. The Guru is quiet and peace prevails in all. His silence is vaster and more emphatic than all the scriptures put together. These questions arise because of the feeling that, in spite of having been here so long, heard so much, striven so hard, you have not gained anything. The process that goes on inside you is not apparent to you. In fact, the Guru is always within you.
You say the mind is blocking the Self.
Can the mind block the Self?
What watches blocked mind?
Is there anything that the mind is blocking that you need to see?
You are always reporting about what you are looking at, but the important things is: Where are you looking from?
And who are you looking as?
This is your moment to look From This as This itself.
The great Saint Frances of Assisi said:
What we are looking for is where we are looking from.
Rumi also said: I was knocking at a door. It opens.
I was knocking from inside.
I am not here giving you 10 steps to follow.
I am pointing you to the stepless truth.
You must discover THAT inside yourself.
I point you to That, where you can never not be.
Something has brought you to this.
Here is your opportunity, an invitation to jump into in the ocean of your own being, which is here and now—your very Self.
Your part, our part from my view is to say inside your heart:
Yes, take me!
Yes, replace me with You. Merge my mind in You.
And this ‘You’ is who?
The Satguru within your own Self.
It is not a person. It is not an object.
Then you will know that this is your mighty existence!
Can the mind block the Self?
What watches blocked mind?
Is there anything that the mind is blocking that you need to see?
You are always reporting about what you are looking at, but the important things is: Where are you looking from?
And who are you looking as?
This is your moment to look From This as This itself.
The great Saint Frances of Assisi said:
What we are looking for is where we are looking from.
Rumi also said: I was knocking at a door. It opens.
I was knocking from inside.
I am not here giving you 10 steps to follow.
I am pointing you to the stepless truth.
You must discover THAT inside yourself.
I point you to That, where you can never not be.
Something has brought you to this.
Here is your opportunity, an invitation to jump into in the ocean of your own being, which is here and now—your very Self.
Your part, our part from my view is to say inside your heart:
Yes, take me!
Yes, replace me with You. Merge my mind in You.
And this ‘You’ is who?
The Satguru within your own Self.
It is not a person. It is not an object.
Then you will know that this is your mighty existence!
Whenever an action of some other body-mind mechanism happens to hurt me it may cause some physical, psychological or financial imbalance, but having totally accepted that there are no individual doers, I never feel hatred.
SIMPLICITY
Recently, while coming from Bangalore, Arvind Bose brought some costly pencils and gave them to Bhagavan. After answering the usual enquiries about his welfare he went away to his compound, named “Mahasthan”.
After he left, Bhagavan examined the pencils closely, wrote with them, appreciated their good quality, and handed them to Krishnaswami, saying, “Please keep these carefully. Our own pencil must be somewhere. Please see where it is and let me have it.” Krishnaswami carefully put away those pencils, opened a wooden box which was on the table nearby, and, after searching for a while, found a pencil and gave it to Bhagavan.
Turning it this way and that, and examining it, Bhagavan said, “Why this one? This is from Devaraja Mudaliar. Our own pencil must be there. Give it to me and keep this one also safely somewhere.”
Krishnaswamy searched everywhere but could not find it. “See if it is in the hall,” said Bhagavan. Someone went there and came back saying it was not there.
“Oh! What a great pity! That is our own pencil, you see. Search properly and find it,” said Bhagavan.
Devaraja Mudaliar, who was there, said, “Why worry, Bhagavan? Are not all these pencils your own?”
Bhagavan said with a smile, “That is not it. You gave this one; Bose brought the other ones. If we are not sufficiently careful, somebody may take them away. You know, Swami is the common property of all people. If your pencil was lost you might feel aggrieved, for you bought it, spending a good amount of money, and gave it to me. If it is our own pencil it does not matter where it is kept. It costs half-an-anna and even that was not purchased. Some one brought it and gave it, saying it had been found somewhere. So, it is our own. As regards the others, we are answerable to the donors. No one will question us about this one and that is why I am asking for it. The others are for the use of important people. Why do we want such pencils? Have we to pass any examination or have we to work in an office? For our writing work, that pencil is enough.” So saying, he had a search made for it and ultimately got it.
Sometime back, a similar incident happened. Some rich people brought a silver cup, saucer and spoon and placing them reverentially before him, said,
“Bhagavan, please use these when you take any liquid food.” Bhagavan examined the things and passed them on to his attendants. As the attendants were placing them in the bureau in the hall, he objected and said,
“Why there? Let them be kept in the office itself.”
“They were given for Bhagavan’s use, were they not?” said a devotee.
“Yes,” replied Bhagavan, “but those are things used by rich people. What use can they be to us? If required, we have our own cups and spoons. We can use them — why these?”
So saying, Bhagavan told his attendant, “Look, from tomorrow we will use our own cups. Take them out.” A devotee asked, “What are those cups, Bhagavan?”
“Oh! Those cups are made of coconut shells, smoothed and preserved. They are our cups and spoons. They are our own. If we use them the purpose is served. Please keep the silver articles carefully elsewhere,” said Bhagavan.
“Are not those silver articles Bhagavan’s own?” asked the devotee. Bhagavan said with a laugh,
“Yes, they are. But tell me, why all this ostentation for us? They are costly. Should we be careless, some one might steal them. So they must be guarded. Is that the job for Swami? Not only that. Somebody might think, ‘after all, he is a sannyasi and so will he not give them away if asked?’ and then ask for them. It is not possible to say ‘No’. Yet, if they are given away, those who presented them might resent it, as they gave the articles for Swami’s use only. Why all that trouble? If we use our own cups it does not matter how we use them or what we do with them.” So saying, he sent away the silver articles, had his own cups taken out and shown to all present.
About the same time, a devotee brought a nice walking stick with a silver handle, and presented it to Bhagavan. Turning it this side and that, and examining it, Bhagavan remarked to the devotee,
“Good. It is very nice. Please use it carefully.”
“But it is not for my use,” he said. “I have brought it thinking that Bhagavan would use it.”
“What an idea!” exclaimed Bhagavan. “A nice walking stick with a silver handle should be used only by officials like you. Why for me? Look, I have my own walking stick. That is enough,” concluded Bhagavan.
“When that one is worn out, you could use this one, couldn’t you?” asked another devotee.
“Why these costly things for me? If a bit of wood were chiselled, a walking stick could be made out of it in an instant. While I was on the hill, I used to chisel a lot of wood into walking sticks, smooth them and preserve them. Not even a paisa was spent on that account. Several people took away those walking sticks. They were our own. Why all this ostentation for us? Those cheap walking sticks will do for us.” So saying, Bhagavan gave the stick back to the devotee.
As a rule, Bhagavan does not use costly things. He likes things which do not cost even a paisa.
-Letters from Sri Ramanasramam, 13th September, 1947
Recently, while coming from Bangalore, Arvind Bose brought some costly pencils and gave them to Bhagavan. After answering the usual enquiries about his welfare he went away to his compound, named “Mahasthan”.
After he left, Bhagavan examined the pencils closely, wrote with them, appreciated their good quality, and handed them to Krishnaswami, saying, “Please keep these carefully. Our own pencil must be somewhere. Please see where it is and let me have it.” Krishnaswami carefully put away those pencils, opened a wooden box which was on the table nearby, and, after searching for a while, found a pencil and gave it to Bhagavan.
Turning it this way and that, and examining it, Bhagavan said, “Why this one? This is from Devaraja Mudaliar. Our own pencil must be there. Give it to me and keep this one also safely somewhere.”
Krishnaswamy searched everywhere but could not find it. “See if it is in the hall,” said Bhagavan. Someone went there and came back saying it was not there.
“Oh! What a great pity! That is our own pencil, you see. Search properly and find it,” said Bhagavan.
Devaraja Mudaliar, who was there, said, “Why worry, Bhagavan? Are not all these pencils your own?”
Bhagavan said with a smile, “That is not it. You gave this one; Bose brought the other ones. If we are not sufficiently careful, somebody may take them away. You know, Swami is the common property of all people. If your pencil was lost you might feel aggrieved, for you bought it, spending a good amount of money, and gave it to me. If it is our own pencil it does not matter where it is kept. It costs half-an-anna and even that was not purchased. Some one brought it and gave it, saying it had been found somewhere. So, it is our own. As regards the others, we are answerable to the donors. No one will question us about this one and that is why I am asking for it. The others are for the use of important people. Why do we want such pencils? Have we to pass any examination or have we to work in an office? For our writing work, that pencil is enough.” So saying, he had a search made for it and ultimately got it.
Sometime back, a similar incident happened. Some rich people brought a silver cup, saucer and spoon and placing them reverentially before him, said,
“Bhagavan, please use these when you take any liquid food.” Bhagavan examined the things and passed them on to his attendants. As the attendants were placing them in the bureau in the hall, he objected and said,
“Why there? Let them be kept in the office itself.”
“They were given for Bhagavan’s use, were they not?” said a devotee.
“Yes,” replied Bhagavan, “but those are things used by rich people. What use can they be to us? If required, we have our own cups and spoons. We can use them — why these?”
So saying, Bhagavan told his attendant, “Look, from tomorrow we will use our own cups. Take them out.” A devotee asked, “What are those cups, Bhagavan?”
“Oh! Those cups are made of coconut shells, smoothed and preserved. They are our cups and spoons. They are our own. If we use them the purpose is served. Please keep the silver articles carefully elsewhere,” said Bhagavan.
“Are not those silver articles Bhagavan’s own?” asked the devotee. Bhagavan said with a laugh,
“Yes, they are. But tell me, why all this ostentation for us? They are costly. Should we be careless, some one might steal them. So they must be guarded. Is that the job for Swami? Not only that. Somebody might think, ‘after all, he is a sannyasi and so will he not give them away if asked?’ and then ask for them. It is not possible to say ‘No’. Yet, if they are given away, those who presented them might resent it, as they gave the articles for Swami’s use only. Why all that trouble? If we use our own cups it does not matter how we use them or what we do with them.” So saying, he sent away the silver articles, had his own cups taken out and shown to all present.
About the same time, a devotee brought a nice walking stick with a silver handle, and presented it to Bhagavan. Turning it this side and that, and examining it, Bhagavan remarked to the devotee,
“Good. It is very nice. Please use it carefully.”
“But it is not for my use,” he said. “I have brought it thinking that Bhagavan would use it.”
“What an idea!” exclaimed Bhagavan. “A nice walking stick with a silver handle should be used only by officials like you. Why for me? Look, I have my own walking stick. That is enough,” concluded Bhagavan.
“When that one is worn out, you could use this one, couldn’t you?” asked another devotee.
“Why these costly things for me? If a bit of wood were chiselled, a walking stick could be made out of it in an instant. While I was on the hill, I used to chisel a lot of wood into walking sticks, smooth them and preserve them. Not even a paisa was spent on that account. Several people took away those walking sticks. They were our own. Why all this ostentation for us? Those cheap walking sticks will do for us.” So saying, Bhagavan gave the stick back to the devotee.
As a rule, Bhagavan does not use costly things. He likes things which do not cost even a paisa.
-Letters from Sri Ramanasramam, 13th September, 1947
Sattva is the radiance of your real nature. You can always find it beyond the mind and its many worlds. But if you want a world, you must accept the three gunas as inseparable, matter, enery, life—one in essence, distinct in appearance. They mix and flow in consciousness. In time and space there is eternal flow: birth and death again, advance, retreat, another advance, again retreat—apparently without a beginning and without end; reality being timeless, changeless, bodyless, and mindless awareness is bliss.
The World deluded by these Three Gunas does not know Me:
Who is beyond these Gunas and imperishable.
Who is beyond these Gunas and imperishable.
Dr. Paul Brunton (1898-1981), a British journalist, attracted by Indian mysticism first visited India in 1930. Author of eleven books, he has emphasized the value and importance of the Self within us. He is generally considered as having introduced meditation to the West. He once wrote: “Sri Ramana was a spiritual torch carried to the waiting souls in the West. I was only the unimportant ‘link-boy’, the humble carrier.” The Paul Brunton Philosophic Foundation, New York, has posthumously published his post-1952 writings (the year when his last book The Spiritual Crisis of Man was published), in 16 volumes. He was awarded a doctorate in philosophy by the Roosevelt College, USA.
During his first visit, among many saints and yogis, Brunton also met Sri Ramana. He stayed for a few weeks in an impro- vised shelter very close to Sri Ramana’s Ashram.The number of full-time devotees being limited at that time, Brunton had ample opportunity of observing the Maharshi at close quarters and interacting with him. He provides a dispassionate, illumi- nating and intimate account of the Maharshi’s divinity and its
impact in his A Search in Secret India published from London in 1934. In his inimitable way he says:
There is something in this man which holds my attention as steel filings are held by a magnet. I cannot turn my gaze away from him. I become aware of a silent, resistless change, which is taking place within my mind. One by one, the questions which I prepared with such meticulous accuracy drop away. I know only that a steady river of quietness seems to be flowing near me; that a great peace is penetrating the inner reaches of my being, and that my thought-tortured brain is beginning to arrive at some rest. I perceive with sudden clarity that intellect creates its own problems and then makes itself miserable trying to solve them. This is indeed a novel concept to enter the mind of one who has hitherto placed such high value upon intellect.
I surrender myself to the steadily deepening sense of restfulness. The passage of time now provokes no irritation, because the chains of mind-made problems are being broken and thrown away. And then, little by little, a question takes the field of consciousness. Does this man, the Maharshi, emanate the perfume of spiritual peace as the flower emanates fragrance from its petals? I begin to wonder whether by some radioactivity of the soul, some unknown telepathic process, the stillness which invades the troubled water of my soul really comes from him.The peace overwhelms me.
The Maharshi turns and looks down into my face; I, in turn, gaze expectantly up at him. I become aware of a mysterious change taking place with great rapidity in my heart and mind. The old motives which have lured me on begin to desert me. The urgent desires which have sent my feet hither and thither vanish with incredible swiftness. The dislikes, misunderstandings, coldness and selfishness which have marked my dealings with many of my fellows collapse into the abyss of nothingness. An untellable peace falls upon me and I know that there is nothing further that I shall ask from life.
The Sage seems to carry something of great moment to me, yet I cannot easily determine its precise nature. It is intangible, imponderable, perhaps spiritual. Each time I think of him a peculiar sensation pierces me and causes my heart to throb with vague but lofty expectations.
I look at the Sage. He sits there on Olympian heights and watches the panorama of life as one apart. There is a mysterious property in this man which differentiates him from all others I have met.
He remains mysteriously aloof even when surrounded by his own devotees, men who have loved him and lived near him for years. Sometimes I catch myself wishing that he would be a little more human, a little more susceptible to what seems so normal to us.
Why is it that under his strange glance I invariably experience a peculiar expectancy, as though some stupendous revelation will soon be made to me? This man has freed himself from all problems, and no woe can touch him.
The Sage seems to speak not as a philosopher, not as a pandit trying to explain his own doctrine, but rather out of the depth of his own heart.
I am not religious but I can no more resist the feeling of increasing awe which begins to grip my mind than a bee can resist a flower in all its luscious bloom. The [Maharshi’s] hall is becoming pervaded with a subtle, intangible and indefinable power which affects me deeply. I feel, without doubt and without hesitation, that the centre of this mysterious power is no other than the Maharshi himself.
His eyes shine with astonishing brilliance. Strange sensation begins to arise in me. Those lustrous orbs seem to be peering into the inmost recesses of my soul. In a peculiar way, I feel aware of everything he can see in my heart. His mysterious glance penetrates my thoughts, my emotions and my desires; I am helpless before it.
At first, his disconcerting gaze troubles me; I become vaguely uneasy. I feel he has perceived pages that belong to a past, which I have forgotten. He knows it all, I am certain. I am powerless to escape; somehow, I do not want to, either.
I become aware that he is definitely linking my own mind with his, that he is provoking my heart into that state of starry calm, which he seems perpetually to enjoy. In this extraordinary peace, I find a sense of exaltation and lightness. Time seems to stand still. My heart is released from its burden of care. Never again, I feel, shall the bitterness of anger and the melancholy of unsatisfied desire afflict me. My mind is submerged in that of the Maharshi and wisdom is now at its perihelion. What is this man’s gaze but a thaumaturgic wand, which evokes a hidden world of unexpected splendour before my profane eyes?
During his first visit, among many saints and yogis, Brunton also met Sri Ramana. He stayed for a few weeks in an impro- vised shelter very close to Sri Ramana’s Ashram.The number of full-time devotees being limited at that time, Brunton had ample opportunity of observing the Maharshi at close quarters and interacting with him. He provides a dispassionate, illumi- nating and intimate account of the Maharshi’s divinity and its
impact in his A Search in Secret India published from London in 1934. In his inimitable way he says:
There is something in this man which holds my attention as steel filings are held by a magnet. I cannot turn my gaze away from him. I become aware of a silent, resistless change, which is taking place within my mind. One by one, the questions which I prepared with such meticulous accuracy drop away. I know only that a steady river of quietness seems to be flowing near me; that a great peace is penetrating the inner reaches of my being, and that my thought-tortured brain is beginning to arrive at some rest. I perceive with sudden clarity that intellect creates its own problems and then makes itself miserable trying to solve them. This is indeed a novel concept to enter the mind of one who has hitherto placed such high value upon intellect.
I surrender myself to the steadily deepening sense of restfulness. The passage of time now provokes no irritation, because the chains of mind-made problems are being broken and thrown away. And then, little by little, a question takes the field of consciousness. Does this man, the Maharshi, emanate the perfume of spiritual peace as the flower emanates fragrance from its petals? I begin to wonder whether by some radioactivity of the soul, some unknown telepathic process, the stillness which invades the troubled water of my soul really comes from him.The peace overwhelms me.
The Maharshi turns and looks down into my face; I, in turn, gaze expectantly up at him. I become aware of a mysterious change taking place with great rapidity in my heart and mind. The old motives which have lured me on begin to desert me. The urgent desires which have sent my feet hither and thither vanish with incredible swiftness. The dislikes, misunderstandings, coldness and selfishness which have marked my dealings with many of my fellows collapse into the abyss of nothingness. An untellable peace falls upon me and I know that there is nothing further that I shall ask from life.
The Sage seems to carry something of great moment to me, yet I cannot easily determine its precise nature. It is intangible, imponderable, perhaps spiritual. Each time I think of him a peculiar sensation pierces me and causes my heart to throb with vague but lofty expectations.
I look at the Sage. He sits there on Olympian heights and watches the panorama of life as one apart. There is a mysterious property in this man which differentiates him from all others I have met.
He remains mysteriously aloof even when surrounded by his own devotees, men who have loved him and lived near him for years. Sometimes I catch myself wishing that he would be a little more human, a little more susceptible to what seems so normal to us.
Why is it that under his strange glance I invariably experience a peculiar expectancy, as though some stupendous revelation will soon be made to me? This man has freed himself from all problems, and no woe can touch him.
The Sage seems to speak not as a philosopher, not as a pandit trying to explain his own doctrine, but rather out of the depth of his own heart.
I am not religious but I can no more resist the feeling of increasing awe which begins to grip my mind than a bee can resist a flower in all its luscious bloom. The [Maharshi’s] hall is becoming pervaded with a subtle, intangible and indefinable power which affects me deeply. I feel, without doubt and without hesitation, that the centre of this mysterious power is no other than the Maharshi himself.
His eyes shine with astonishing brilliance. Strange sensation begins to arise in me. Those lustrous orbs seem to be peering into the inmost recesses of my soul. In a peculiar way, I feel aware of everything he can see in my heart. His mysterious glance penetrates my thoughts, my emotions and my desires; I am helpless before it.
At first, his disconcerting gaze troubles me; I become vaguely uneasy. I feel he has perceived pages that belong to a past, which I have forgotten. He knows it all, I am certain. I am powerless to escape; somehow, I do not want to, either.
I become aware that he is definitely linking my own mind with his, that he is provoking my heart into that state of starry calm, which he seems perpetually to enjoy. In this extraordinary peace, I find a sense of exaltation and lightness. Time seems to stand still. My heart is released from its burden of care. Never again, I feel, shall the bitterness of anger and the melancholy of unsatisfied desire afflict me. My mind is submerged in that of the Maharshi and wisdom is now at its perihelion. What is this man’s gaze but a thaumaturgic wand, which evokes a hidden world of unexpected splendour before my profane eyes?
When your attention is off a thing and not yet fixed on another, in the interval you are pure being.
You say you have been having the sense that you are disappearing into space.
When the ‘I’ merges or disappears in that space that you speak about, who are you?
Do you feel any break in your being?
Is there any jerk in experience, like suddenly there is a sense that you have become something else, or is it that you simply stopped becoming? You understand?
When there is no ‘I’, ‘me’, the doer of actions or thinker of thoughts, did you suddenly become the Absolute or isn't it that the ‘I’ as a seemingly tangible entity could no longer be found?
As you come again into your natural state, you will see:I was never the idea I had of who I am. I have always been This. And a joy is there.
It is the most natural and beautiful discovery and you know:I didn’t ‘become’ this, I have always been This.
When the ‘I’ merges or disappears in that space that you speak about, who are you?
Do you feel any break in your being?
Is there any jerk in experience, like suddenly there is a sense that you have become something else, or is it that you simply stopped becoming? You understand?
When there is no ‘I’, ‘me’, the doer of actions or thinker of thoughts, did you suddenly become the Absolute or isn't it that the ‘I’ as a seemingly tangible entity could no longer be found?
As you come again into your natural state, you will see:I was never the idea I had of who I am. I have always been This. And a joy is there.
It is the most natural and beautiful discovery and you know:I didn’t ‘become’ this, I have always been This.
The truth of oneself alone is worthy to be scrutinized and known. Taking it as the target of one's attention, one should keenly know it in the Heart. This knowledge of oneself will be revealed only to the consciousness which is silent, clear and free from the activity of the agitated and suffering mind. Know that the consciousness which always shines in the Heart as the formless Self 'I', and which is known by one's being still without thinking about anything as existent or non-existent, alone is the perfect reality.
To meditate, you don't have to have any objective, which means you don't have any expectation at all. In these moments you don't find Reality, the Reality finds you. Just sit quietly for a moment.
The Maharshi occupied a couch in a corner of a middle-sized hall in the Asramam. Barring this corner the entire hall was at the disposal of the visiting public, and anybody could go into the hall at any time of the day or night. Visiting devotees would quietly steal in, sit for a while in quiet meditation and then leave unobtrusively. One day a man following the path of devotion came in and occupied a place very near the sage. Then he unburdened all that lay buried in his heart. His speech was choked with feeling. He poured forth, "I have gone on pilgrimage all over the land. I have been regular in my spiritual practices. Many a sleepless night have I passed in prayer. Still to this day I have had no mercy from the Lord. I am forlorn." He cried bitterly, but Maharshi sat unconcerned. Eventually all his suppressed feelings were worked out, and then in a measured voice the sage said, "Strange man. He cries – what is there to sob about? Instead of being poised in the blissful Self, he goes on wailing." This observation had a telling effect. The man saw that his problem was self-created, and a new chapter in his life started.
Once you know there is no mind, there is no longer the experience you’ve got to go through. All experiences cease. But be aware that all experiences have come from the mind. In reality there are no experiences. The life you’re living now is an experience.
As you look at the world without interpretation,
as you look at the world without attachment,
what the world is will be revealed to you.
as you look at the world without attachment,
what the world is will be revealed to you.
There is no non-self.
The non-self also exists in the Self. It is the Self which speaks of the non-self because it has forgotten itself. Having lost hold of itself, it conceives something as non-self, which is after all nothing but itself.
The non-self also exists in the Self. It is the Self which speaks of the non-self because it has forgotten itself. Having lost hold of itself, it conceives something as non-self, which is after all nothing but itself.
Whatever is destined not to happen will not happen, try as you may.
Whatever is destined to happen will happen, do what you may to prevent it.
This is certain.
The best course, therefore, is to remain silent.
Whatever is destined to happen will happen, do what you may to prevent it.
This is certain.
The best course, therefore, is to remain silent.
How do you create a dream? Does it start with a beginning? As soon as you start dreaming, there’s no creation. The dream just starts. Everything is already there. The trees, the sky, the earth, the flowers, the grass, people, insects, birds, flowers, everything just appears. Does it die in the end? You just wake up, and it’s all gone.
Annamalai Swami recorded conversations with Bhagavan in the late 1930s.
The following questions were asked by an aristocratic- looking American lady. Bhagavan's answers are a succinct summery of his practical teachings.
Q.: What is the truth that I have to attain? Please explain it and show it to me.
Bhagavan: What we have to attain and what is desired by everyone is endless happiness. Although we seek to attain it in various ways, it is not something to be sought or attained as a new experience. Our real nature is the 'I' feeling which is always experienced by everyone. It is within us and nowhere else. Although we are always experiencing it, our minds are wandering, always seeking it, thinking in ignorance it is something apart from us. This is like a person saying with his own tongue that he has no tongue.
Q.: If that is so, why did so many sadhanas come to be created?
Bhagavan: The sadhanas came to be formed only to get rid of the thought that the Self is something to be newly attained. The root of the illusion is the thought which ignores the Self and thinks instead, 'I am this body'. After this thought rises it expands in a moment into several thousand thoughts and conceals the Self. The reality of the Self will only shine if all these thoughts are removed. Afterwards, what remains is only Brahmananda, the bliss of Brahman.
Q.: I am now sitting peacefully without the thought 'I am this body'. Is this the state of reality?
Bhagavan: This state must remain as it is without any change. If it changes after a while you will know that other thoughts have not gone.
Q.: What is the way to get rid of other thoughts?
Bhagavan: They can only be removed through the powerful effect of the enquiry, 'To whom have these thoughts come'
The following questions were asked by an aristocratic- looking American lady. Bhagavan's answers are a succinct summery of his practical teachings.
Q.: What is the truth that I have to attain? Please explain it and show it to me.
Bhagavan: What we have to attain and what is desired by everyone is endless happiness. Although we seek to attain it in various ways, it is not something to be sought or attained as a new experience. Our real nature is the 'I' feeling which is always experienced by everyone. It is within us and nowhere else. Although we are always experiencing it, our minds are wandering, always seeking it, thinking in ignorance it is something apart from us. This is like a person saying with his own tongue that he has no tongue.
Q.: If that is so, why did so many sadhanas come to be created?
Bhagavan: The sadhanas came to be formed only to get rid of the thought that the Self is something to be newly attained. The root of the illusion is the thought which ignores the Self and thinks instead, 'I am this body'. After this thought rises it expands in a moment into several thousand thoughts and conceals the Self. The reality of the Self will only shine if all these thoughts are removed. Afterwards, what remains is only Brahmananda, the bliss of Brahman.
Q.: I am now sitting peacefully without the thought 'I am this body'. Is this the state of reality?
Bhagavan: This state must remain as it is without any change. If it changes after a while you will know that other thoughts have not gone.
Q.: What is the way to get rid of other thoughts?
Bhagavan: They can only be removed through the powerful effect of the enquiry, 'To whom have these thoughts come'
DIVINE FORCE
I went to the hall at 2-30 this afternoon. Bhagavan was there already, reading a slip of paper which someone had handed over to him. I sat there waiting to hear what Bhagavan would say. Bhagavan folded the paper with a smile and said, “All this will occur if one thinks that there is a difference between Bhagavan and oneself. If one thinks that there is no such difference, all this will not occur.”
Is it enough if we say that there is no difference between Bhagavan and ourselves? Is it not necessary to enquire who oneself is, and what one’s origin is, before one thinks that there is no difference between oneself and Bhagavan? Why is Bhagavan saying this? I was thinking of asking Bhagavan why he was thus misleading us but could not summon up enough courage to do so. I do not know if Bhagavan sensed this misgiving of mine; but anyway he himself began speaking again as follows:
“Before one could realise that there is no difference between him and Bhagavan, one should first discard all these unreal attributes which are really not his. One cannot perceive truth unless all these qualities are discarded. There is a Divine force (Chaitanya Sakti) which is the source of all things. All these other qualities cannot be discarded unless we get hold of that force. Sadhana is required to get hold of that force.”
I got courage as I heard those words and said unconsciously, “So there is a force?”
“Yes,” replied Bhagavan, “There is a force. It is that force that is called swasphurana (consciousness of the Self).”
I said with a quivering voice, “Bhagavan said casually that it is enough if we think that there is no difference between us and God. But we can discard these unreal attributes only if we are able to get hold of that force. Let it be the Divine force or the consciousness of the Self. Whatever it is, should we not know it? We are not able to know it however much we try.”
Never before this did I ask Bhagavan questions in the presence of others so boldly. Today, the inner urge was so great that words came out of my mouth of their own accord in the course of the conversation, and my eyes were filled with tears and so I turned my face towards the wall. A lady sitting next to me told me afterwards that Bhagavan’s eyes also became moist. How tender-hearted he is towards the humble!
Bhagavan sometimes used to say, “The Jnani weeps with the weeping, laughs with the laughing, plays with the playful, sings with those who sing, keeping time to the song. What does he lose? His presence is like a pure, transparent mirror. It reflects our image exactly as we are. It is we that play the several parts in life and reap the fruits of our actions. How is the mirror or the stand on which it is mounted affected? Nothing affects them, as they are mere supports. The actors in this world — the doers of all acts — must decide for themselves what song and what action is for the welfare of the world, what is in accordance with sastras, and what is practicable.” That is what Bhagavan used to say. This is a practical illustration.
Letters from Sri Ramanasramam, 2nd February, 1947
I went to the hall at 2-30 this afternoon. Bhagavan was there already, reading a slip of paper which someone had handed over to him. I sat there waiting to hear what Bhagavan would say. Bhagavan folded the paper with a smile and said, “All this will occur if one thinks that there is a difference between Bhagavan and oneself. If one thinks that there is no such difference, all this will not occur.”
Is it enough if we say that there is no difference between Bhagavan and ourselves? Is it not necessary to enquire who oneself is, and what one’s origin is, before one thinks that there is no difference between oneself and Bhagavan? Why is Bhagavan saying this? I was thinking of asking Bhagavan why he was thus misleading us but could not summon up enough courage to do so. I do not know if Bhagavan sensed this misgiving of mine; but anyway he himself began speaking again as follows:
“Before one could realise that there is no difference between him and Bhagavan, one should first discard all these unreal attributes which are really not his. One cannot perceive truth unless all these qualities are discarded. There is a Divine force (Chaitanya Sakti) which is the source of all things. All these other qualities cannot be discarded unless we get hold of that force. Sadhana is required to get hold of that force.”
I got courage as I heard those words and said unconsciously, “So there is a force?”
“Yes,” replied Bhagavan, “There is a force. It is that force that is called swasphurana (consciousness of the Self).”
I said with a quivering voice, “Bhagavan said casually that it is enough if we think that there is no difference between us and God. But we can discard these unreal attributes only if we are able to get hold of that force. Let it be the Divine force or the consciousness of the Self. Whatever it is, should we not know it? We are not able to know it however much we try.”
Never before this did I ask Bhagavan questions in the presence of others so boldly. Today, the inner urge was so great that words came out of my mouth of their own accord in the course of the conversation, and my eyes were filled with tears and so I turned my face towards the wall. A lady sitting next to me told me afterwards that Bhagavan’s eyes also became moist. How tender-hearted he is towards the humble!
Bhagavan sometimes used to say, “The Jnani weeps with the weeping, laughs with the laughing, plays with the playful, sings with those who sing, keeping time to the song. What does he lose? His presence is like a pure, transparent mirror. It reflects our image exactly as we are. It is we that play the several parts in life and reap the fruits of our actions. How is the mirror or the stand on which it is mounted affected? Nothing affects them, as they are mere supports. The actors in this world — the doers of all acts — must decide for themselves what song and what action is for the welfare of the world, what is in accordance with sastras, and what is practicable.” That is what Bhagavan used to say. This is a practical illustration.
Letters from Sri Ramanasramam, 2nd February, 1947
Beings
Follow us on Facebook