Friday, July 10, 2009
Living is Life's only Purpose
Questioner: What does it mean to fail in Yoga? Who is a failure in Yoga (yoga bhrashta)?
Maharaj: It is only a question of incompletion. He who could not complete his Yoga for some reason is called failed in Yoga. Such failure is only temporary, for there can be no defeat in Yoga. This battle is always won, for it is a battle between the true and the false. The false has no chance.
Q: Who fails? The person (vyakti) or the self (vyakta)?
M: The question is wrongly put. There is no question of failure, neither in the short run nor in the long. It is like travelling a long and arduous road in an unknown country. Of all the innumerable steps there is only the last which brings you to your destination. Yet you will not consider all previous steps as failures. Each brought you nearer to your goal, even when you had to turn back to by-pass an obstacle. In reality each step brings you to your goal, because to be always on the move, learning, discovering, unfolding, is your eternal destiny. Living is life's only purpose. The self does not identify itself with success or failure -- the very idea of becoming this or that is unthinkable. The self understands that success and failure are relative and related, that they are the very warp and weft of life. Learn from both and go beyond. If you have not learnt, repeat.
Q: What am I to learn?
M: To live without self-concern. For this you must know your own true being (swarupa) as indomitable, fearless, ever victorious. Once you know with absolute certainty that nothing can trouble you but your own imagination, you come to disregard your desires and fears, concepts and ideas and live by truth alone.
Q: What may be the reason that some people succeed and others fail in Yoga? Is it destiny or character, or just accident?
M: Nobody ever fails in Yoga. It is all a matter of the rate of progress. It is slow in the beginning and rapid in the end. When one is fully matured, realisation is explosive. It takes place spontaneously, or at the slightest hint. The quick is not better than the slow. Slow ripening and rapid flowering alternate. Both are natural and right. Yet, all this is so in the mind only. As I see it, there is really nothing of the kind. In the great mirror of consciousness images arise and disappear and only memory gives them continuity. And memory is material -- destructible, perishable, transient. On such flimsy foundations we build a sense of personal existence -- vague, intermittent, dreamlike. This vague persuasion: 'I-am-so-and-so' obscures the changeless state of pure awareness and makes us believe that we are born to suffer and to die.
Q: Just as a child cannot help growing, so does a man, compelled by nature, make progress. Why exert oneself? Where is the need of Yoga?
M: There is progress all the time. Everything contributes to progress. But this is the progress of ignorance. The circles of ignorance may be ever widening, yet it remains a bondage all the same. In due course a Guru appears to teach and inspire us to practise Yoga and a ripening takes place as a result of which the immemorial night of ignorance dissolves before the rising sun of wisdom. But in reality nothing happened. The sun is always there, there is no night to it; the mind blinded by the 'I am the body' idea spins out endlessly its thread of illusion.
Q: If all is a part of a natural process, where is the need of effort?
M: Even effort is a part of it. When ignorance becomes obstinate and hard and the character gets perverted, effort and the pain of it become inevitable. In complete obedience to nature there is no effort. The seed of spiritual life grows in silence and in darkness until its appointed hour.
Q: We come across some great people, who, in their old age, become childish, petty, quarrelsome and spiteful. How could they deteriorate so much?
M: They were not perfect Yogis, having their bodies under complete control. Or, they might not have cared to protect their bodies from the natural decay. One must not draw conclusions without understanding all the factors. Above all, one must not make judgements of inferiority or superiority. Youthfulness is more a matter of vitality (prana) than of wisdom (jnana) .
Q: One may get old, but why should one lose all alertness and discrimination?
M: Consciousness and unconsciousness, while in the body depend on the condition of the brain. But the self is beyond both, beyond the brain, beyond the mind. The fault of the instrument is no reflection on its user.
Q: I was told that a realised man will never do anything unseemly. He will always behave in an exemplary way.
M: Who sets the example? Why should a liberated man necessarily follow conventions? The moment he becomes predictable, he cannot be free. His freedom lies in his being free to fulfil the need of the moment, to obey the necessity of the situation. Freedom to do what one likes is really bondage, while being free to do what one must, what is right, is real freedom.
Q: Still there must be some way of making out who has realised and who has not. If one is indistinguishable from the other, of what use is he?
M: He who knows himself has no doubts about it. Nor does he care whether others recognise his state or not. Rare is the realised man who discloses his realisation and fortunate are those who have met him, for he does it for their abiding welfare.
Q: When one looks round, one is appalled by the volume of unnecessary suffering that is going on. People who should be helped are not getting help. Imagine a big hospital ward full of incurables, tossing and moaning. Were you given the authority to kill them all and end their torture, would you not do so?
M: I would leave it to them to decide.
Q: But if their destiny is to suffer? How can you interfere with destiny?
M: Their destiny is what happens. There is no thwarting of destiny. You mean to say everybody's life is totally determined at his birth? What a strange idea! Were it so, the power that determines would see to it that nobody should suffer.
Q: What about cause and effect?
M: Each moment contains the whole of the past and creates the whole of the future.
Q: But past and future exist?
M: In the mind only. Time is in the mind, space is in the mind. The law of cause and effect is also a way of thinking. In reality all is here and now and all is one. Multiplicity and diversity are in the mind only.
Q: Still, you are in favour of relieving suffering, even through destruction of the incurably diseased body.
M: Again, you look from outside while I look from within. I do not see a sufferer, I am the sufferer. I know him from within and do what is right spontaneously and effortlessly. I follow no rules nor lay down rules. I flow with life -- faithfully and irresistibly.
Q: Still you seem to be a very practical man in full control of your immediate surroundings.
M: What else do you expect me to be? A misfit?
Q: Yet you cannot help another much.
M: Surely, I can help. You too can help. Everybody can help. But the suffering is all the time recreated. Man alone can destroy in himself the roots of pain. Others can only help with the pain, but not with its cause, which is the abysmal stupidity of mankind.
Q: Will this stupidity ever come to an end?
M: In man -- of course. Any moment. In humanity -- as we know it -- after very many years. In creation -- never, for creation itself is rooted in ignorance; matter itself is ignorance. Not to know, and not to know that one does not know, is the cause of endless suffering.
Q: We are told of the great avatars, the saviours of the world.
M: Did they save? They have come and gone -- and the world plods on. Of course, they did a lot and opened new dimensions in the human mind. But to talk of saving the world is an exaggeration.
Q: Is there no salvation for the world?
M: Which world do you want to save? The world of your own projection? Save it yourself. My world? Show me my world and I shall deal with it. I am not aware of any world separate from myself, which I am free to save or not to save. What business have you with saving the world, when all the world needs is to be saved from you? Get out of the picture and see whether there is anything left to save.
Q: You seem to stress the point that without you your world would not have existed and therefore the only thing you can do for it is to wind up the show. This is not a way out. Even if the world were of my own creation, this knowledge does not save it. It only explains it. The question remains: why did I create such a wretched world and what can I do to change it? You seem to say: forget it all and admire your own glory. Surely, you don't mean it. The description of a disease and its causes does not cure it. What we need is the right medicine.
M: The description and causation are the remedy for a disease caused by obtuseness and stupidity. Just like a deficiency disease is cured through the supply of the missing factor, so are the diseases of living cured by a good dose of intelligent detachment. (viveka-vairagya).
Q: You cannot save the world by preaching counsels of perfection. People are as they are. Must they suffer?
M: As long as they are as they are, there is no escape from suffering. Remove the sense of separateness and there will be no conflict.
Q: A message in print may be paper and ink only. It is the text that matters. By analysing the world into elements and qualities we miss the most important -- its meaning. Your reduction of everything to dream disregards the difference between the dream of an insect and the dream of a poet. All is dream, granted. But not all are equal.
M: The dreams are not equal, but the dreamer is one. I am the insect. I am the poet -- in dream. But in reality I am neither. I am beyond all dreams. I am the light in which all dreams appear and disappear. I am both inside and outside the dream. Just as a man having headache knows the ache and also knows that he is not the ache, so do I know the dream, myself dreaming and myself not dreaming -- all at the same time. I am what I am before, during and after the dream. But what I see in dream, l am not.
Q: It is all a matter of imagination. One imagines that one is dreaming, another imagines one is not dreaming. Are not both the same?
M: The same and not the same. Not dreaming, as an interval between two dreams, is of course, a Part of dreaming. Not dreaming as a steady hold on, and timeless abidance in reality has nothing to do with dreaming. In that sense I never dream, nor ever shall.
Q: If both dream and escape from dream are imaginings, what is the way out?
M: There is no need of a way out! Don't you see that a way out is also a part of the dream? All you have to do is to see the dream as dream.
Q: If I start the practice of dismissing everything as a dream where will it lead me?
M: Wherever it leads you, it will be a dream. The very idea of going beyond the dream is illusory. Why go anywhere? Just realise that you are dreaming a dream you call the world, and stop looking for ways out. The dream is not your problem. Your problem is that you like one part of your dream and not another. Love all, or none of it, and stop complaining. When you have seen the dream as a dream, you have done all that needs be done.
Q: Is dreaming caused by thinking?
M: Everything is a play of ideas. In the state free from ideation (nirvikalpa samadhi) nothing is perceived. The root idea is: 'I am'. It shatters the state of pure consciousness and is followed by the innumerable sensations and perceptions, feeling and ideas which in their totality constitute God and His world. The 'I am' remains as the witness, but it is by the will of God that everything happens.
Q: Why not by my will?
M: Again you have split yourself -- into God and witness. Both are one.
Saturday, July 04, 2009
In retrospect ...
----- excerpt from Something More by Sarah Ban Breathnach -------------
Monday, June 22, 2009
Happiness, misery and the Atman
- Swami Vivekananda
Retreat given at the Thousand Island Park, USA. June 25, 1895. Complete Works, 7.11.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
The Distant Footsteps
suggests a mild heart;
He is so sweet now....
If anything bitter is in him, I must be the bitterness.
There is a loneliness in the parlour; they are praying;
And there is no news of the children today.
My father wakes, he listens
for the flight into Egypt, the good-bye that dresses
wounds.
Now he is so near;
If anything distant is in him, I must be the distance.
savouring a taste without savour.
Now he is so gentle,
So much wing, so much farewell, so much love.
no news, no greenness, no childhood.
And if something is broken this afternoon,
And if something descends or creaks,
It is two old roads, curving and white
Down them my heart is walking on foot.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Quotes on Solitude
For unmeasurable periods, I seem divorced from my body, as though I were an awareness spreading out through space, over the earth and into the heavens, unhampered by time or substance, free from the gravitation that binds to heavy human problems of the world. My body requires no attention. It's not hungry. It's neither warm or cold. It's resigned to being left undisturbed. Why have I troubled to bring it here? I might better have left it back at Long Island or St. Louis, while the weightless element that has lived within it flashes through the skies and views the planet. This essential consciousness needs no body for its travels. It needs no plane, no engine, no instruments, only the release from flesh which circumstances I've gone through make possible.
Then what am I - the body substance which I can see with my eyes and feel with my hands? Or am I this realization, this greater understanding which dwells within it, yet expands through the universe outside; a part of all existence, powerless but without need for power; immersed in solitude, yet in contact with all creation? There are moments when the two appear inseparable, and others when they could be cut apart by the merest flash of light.
While my hand is on the stick, my feet on the rudder, and my eyes on the compass, this consciousness, like a winged messenger, goes out to visit the waves below, testing the warmth of water, the speed of wind, the thickness of intervening clouds. It goes north to the glacial coasts of Greenland, over the horizon to the edge of dawn, ahead to Ireland, England, and the continent of Europe, away through space to the moon and stars, always returning, unwillingly, to the mortal duty of seeing that the limbs and muscles have attended their routine while it was gone.
Daphne is wooden. She is that which doesn't want to be communicative, available, friendly, present, or articulate. Instinctively she flees from the most noble of attentions, the most humane of admirers. She would rather be like a tree than a person, an it rather than a thou. The Daphne spirit is so pure that it has no use for the sentimentality of relationship.
Modern psychological thinking doesn't appreciate the necessity presented in this myth. We consider it normal and healthy to be intimate with each other and communicate well. We interpret flight from intimacy as neurotic, abnormal, and practically immoral. But within this myth, flight from interpersonal contact is the norm. Resistance to humanitarian sensitivity is valid. Disappearing from the human scene somehow protects and preserves Daphne in a completely acceptable way.
Rather than judge each other and ourselves for our failure to be sociable, we might reconsider our biases and assumptions, even our sentimentality, about relationship. Perhaps some of our narcissism is a symptomatic attempt recover as strong unrelated sense of self. How can we reach out to another anyway, if we don't have strong devotion to our individuality?
Source on the web
Saturday, June 13, 2009
A Buddhist song
alone, without companions,
without joy and without sorrow,
with only the sacred certainty that all is a dream?
When, in my rags - without desires -
shall I retire contented into the mountains?
When, seeing that my body is merely sickness and crime, age and death,
shall I -
free, fearless and blissful - retire into the forest?
When?
When, oh when?'
Truth is a pathless land
|
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
The Art of Poetry
To gaze at a river made of time and water
And remember Time is another river.
To know we stray like a river
and our faces vanish like water.
To feel that waking is another dream
that dreams of not dreaming and that the death
we fear in our bones is the death
that every night we call a dream.
To see in every day and year a symbol
of all the days of man and his years,
and convert the outrage of the years
into a music, a sound, and a symbol.
To see in death a dream, in the sunset
a golden sadness--such is poetry,
humble and immortal, poetry,
returning, like dawn and the sunset.
Sometimes at evening there's a face
that sees us from the deeps of a mirror.
Art must be that sort of mirror,
disclosing to each of us his face.
They say Ulysses, wearied of wonders,
wept with love on seeing Ithaca,
humble and green. Art is that Ithaca,
a green eternity, not wonders.
Art is endless like a river flowing,
passing, yet remaining, a mirror to the same
inconstant Heraclitus, who is the same
and yet another, like the river flowing.
- Jorge Luis Borges
Sunday, June 07, 2009
An afternoon insight
Tumhein dekhti hoon ...
Great music has that alchemic effect on us. When the notes rise in perfect cadences, our mind drops and in the ensuing stillness, the music seems to rise and reverberate within us. We are aware only of oneness as barriers vanish. We become one with the music, one with all, one with the universe.
Nature had a similar effect. Lying on the grass under a tree, looking up at the sky through the lattice of leaves, the warm earth pulsating beneath ..... Or standing outside in the night looking up at the moon, the sky scattered with stars, the universe stretching out into infinity, we get a glimpse of our own magnificence, our mind-made barriers drop, our concepts vanish and we feel our own essence, our infinitude, our oneness with the whole.
Introduce a human being into this scene, may it be anyone, a spouse, parent, child, close friend and instantaneously the mind jumps up, puts up barriers of concepts. We step into our roles, our self-made cages, we become separate, we and the other. The mind starts humming out rules, codes, expectations, desires... In an instant, the world closes in, we become bodies with minds, oneness slips away, the glimpse of our soul is lost.
It takes diligence to remain in the world and still hold on to the knowledge that we are the soul. Anything that aids in dropping the mind should be pursued. Music. Being in nature. Any activity that requires focus and is done with love and at the same time gives immense joy. Watching a baby. Watching a flower. Ceasing from mindless, needless and endless activity. Solitude. Being in silence, not only verbal but stilling the mind too. Being in Being, being in the soul, in oneness, in bliss is the only treasure worth seeking.......
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Effortlessness
Effort belongs to the realm of the mind, how can a mind that wrestles with itself uncover the soul. The soul is beyond mind. The soul can be realised only when the mind is put away, without effort, like one would calmly put away winter clothes when spring has arrived :) We do not fight off the clothes, do we?
In our quest only intention is needed, pure unwavering intention. And stillness. In silence, in the absence of the mind, the supreme soul reveals itself. It has no other choice :)))
Friday, May 29, 2009
I am not I
in order to see your soul,
and I didn’t see it.
horizons of fields and oceans—
everything, even what was infinite,
was filled with a perfume,
immense and living.
the cricket is singing.
Are you going around naked
in the fields?
going in and out of everything.
Are you going around naked
in the air?
the ant is busy.
Are you going around naked
in the house?
I am this one
Walking beside me whom I do not see.
Whom at times I manage to visit,
And at other times I forget.
The one who remains silent when I talk,
The one who forgives, sweet, when I hate,
The one who takes a walk when I am indoors,
The one who will remain standing when I die.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Song offerings ...
Clouds heap upon clouds and it darkens.
Ah, love, why dost thou let me wait outside at the door all alone?
In the busy moments of the noontide work I am with the crowd, but on this dark lonely day it is only for thee that I hope.
If thou showest me not thy face, if thou leavest me wholly aside, I know not how I am to pass these long, rainy hours.
I keep gazing on the far-away gloom of the sky,and my heart wanders wailing with the restless wind.
~~~~~
I came out alone on my way to my tryst. But who is this that follows me in the silent dark?
I move aside to avoid his presence but I escape him not.
He makes the dust rise from the earth with his swagger; he adds his loud voice to every word that I utter.
He is my own little self, my lord, he knows no shame; but I am ashamed to come to your door in his company.
~~~~~~
Friday, May 22, 2009
Strength
First step in getting strength is to uphold the Upanishads, and believe -
“I am the soul,”
“Me the sword cannot cut;
nor weapons pierce;
me the fire cannot burn;
me the air cannot dry;
I am the Omnipotent, I am the Omniscient.”
So repeat these blessed saving words and be strong.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You must know what you are , what your real nature is. You must become conscious of that infinite nature within. Then your bondage will burst.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Think all of you that you are the infinitely powerful Atman, and see what strength comes out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Knowledge is power,” says the proverb, does it not? It is through knowledge that power comes. Man has got to know that he is a man of infinite power and strength. Really he himself is by his own nature potent and omniscient. And this he must know. And the more he becomes conscious of his own Self, the more he manifests this power, and his bonds break and at last he becomes free.
-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The soul was never born and will never die, and all these ideas that we are going to die and are afraid to die are mere superstitions. And all such ideas as we can do this or cannot do that are superstitions. We can do everything. The Vedanta teaches men to have faith in themselves first... Not believing the glory of our own soul is what the Vedanta calls atheism. To many this is, no doubt, a terrible idea; and most of us think that this ideal can never be reached; but the Vedanta insists that it can be realised by everyone.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Always talk and hear and reason about this Atman. By continuing to practice in this way, you will find in time that the Lion (Brahman) will wake up in you too.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The self within is always shining forth resplendent. Turning away from that people say, “I”, “I”, “I”, with their attention held up by this material body, this queer cage of flesh and bones. This is the root cause of all weakness.
-~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hear day and night that you are that Soul. Repeat it to yourselves day and night till it enters into your very veins, till it tingles in every drop of blood, till it is in your flesh and bone. Let the whole body be full of that one ideal, “I am the birthless, the deathless, the blissful, the omniscient, the omnipotent, ever-glorious Soul.” Think on it day and night; think on it till it becomes part and parcel of your life. Meditate upon it... All your actions will be magnified, transformed, deified, by the very power of the thought. If matter is powerful, thought is omnipotent. Bring this thought to bear upon your life, fill yourselves with the thought of your almightiness, your majesty and your glory.
- Swami Vivekanand
Friday, May 15, 2009
The hidden world
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Hope ...
as leaves
to the tips of trees -
bare-limbed
and shorn by autumn.
Hope floats,
buoys, uplifts
a heart
almost drowning,
gives it sails.
Hope flies
on the gossamer tip of
a dragonfly wing,
ethereal
yet enduring.
Hope rises
eternally,
every morning
as the sun,
even after the blackest night.
Hope triumphs
over despair
always,
every time.
It cannot be otherwise.
Hope flows
like a river
in search of the sea,
like a soul
in search of the source.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
I am...
no purpose,
no direction,
no meaning,
it just IS...
It is our mind that seeks
purpose,
direction,
meaning,
where none exists...
If you ask a realised beggar,
"don't you want to be better off,
become something else?"
He would say,
"Why, what is wrong with me?
why change?
I already am.
Can't you see?
This being is immutable,
ageless,
can't be lost,
nor stolen,
not taken away.
I am Being.
I AM."
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Do you know?
Have you stopped to consider why it is never enough?
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Life
SUCCESS is counted sweetest
By those who ne’er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple host
Who took the flag to-day
Can tell the definition,
So clear, of victory,
As he, defeated, dying,
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Break, agonized and clear.
~~~~~~~~~~~
MUCH madness is divinest sense
To a discerning eye;
Much sense the starkest madness.
’T is the majority
In this, as all, prevails.
Assent, and you are sane;
Demur,—you ’re straightway dangerous,
And handled with a chain.
~~~~~~~~~
THE SOUL selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.
Unmoved, she notes the chariot’s pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.
I’ve known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.
~~~~~~
I’m nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there’s a pair of us—don’t tell!
They ’d banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody! 5
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
- Emily Dickinson
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Ode Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
| I |
| There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, |
| The earth, and every common sight, |
| To me did seem |
| Apparelled in celestial light, |
| The glory and the freshness of a dream. |
| It is not now as it hath been of yore;- |
| Turn whereso'er I may, |
| By night or day, |
| The things which I have seen I now can see no more. |
| II |
| The rainbow comes and goes, |
| And lovely is the rose, |
| The Moon doth with delight |
| Look round her when the heavens are bare; |
| Waters on a starry night |
| Are beautiful and fair; |
| The sunshine is a glorious birth; |
| But yet I know, where'er I go, |
| That there hath past away a glory from the earth. |
| III |
| Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, |
| And while the young lambs bound |
| As to the tabor's sound, |
| To me alone there came a thought of grief: |
| A timely utterance gave that thought relief, |
| And I again am strong: |
| The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep; |
| No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; |
| I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, |
| The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, |
| And all the earth is gay; |
| Land and sea |
| Give themselves up to jollity, |
| And with the heart of May |
| Doth every beast keep holiday;- |
| Thou Child of Joy, |
| Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy! |
| IV |
| Ye blessed Creatures, I have heard the call |
| Ye to each other make; I see |
| The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; |
| My heart is at your festival, |
| My head hath its coronal, |
| The fullness of your bliss, I feel - I feel it all. |
| O evil day! if I were sullen |
| While Earth herself is adorning, |
| This sweet May-morning, |
| And the Children are culling |
| On every side, |
| In a thousand valleys far and wide, |
| Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, |
| And the Babe leaps up on his Mother's arm:- |
| I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! |
| - But there's a Tree, of many, one, |
| A single field which I have looked upon, |
| Both of them speak of something that is gone: |
| The pansy at my feet |
| Doth the same tale repeat: |
| Whither is fled the visionary gleam? |
| Where is it now, the glory and the dream? |
| V |
| Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: |
| The Soul that rises with us, our life's Star, |
| Hath had elsewhere its setting, |
| And cometh from afar: |
| Not in entire forgetfulness, |
| And not in utter nakedness, |
| But trailing clouds of glory do we come |
| From God, who is our home: |
| Heaven lies about us in our infancy! |
| Shades of the prison-house begin to close |
| Upon the growing Boy, |
| But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, |
| He sees it in his joy; |
| The Youth, who daily farther from the east |
| Must travel, still is Nature's Priest, |
| And by the vision splendid |
| Is on his way attended; |
| At length the Man perceives it die away, |
| And fade into the light of common day. |
| VI |
| Earth fills her lap with pleasures of her own; |
| Yearnings she hath in her own natural kind; |
| And, even with something of a mother's mind, |
| And no unworthy aim, |
| The homely nurse doth all she can |
| To make her Foster-child, her inmate Man, |
| Forget the glories he hath known, |
| And that imperial palace whence he came. |
| VII |
| Behold the Child among his new-born blisses, |
| A six years' darling of pigmy size! |
| See, where 'mid work of his own hand he lies, |
| Fretted by sallies of his mother's kisses, |
| With light upon him from his father's eyes! |
| See, at his feet, some little plan or chart, |
| Some fragment from his dream of human life, |
| Shaped by himself with newly-learnèd art; |
| A wedding or a festival, |
| A mourning or a funeral; |
| And this hath now his heart, |
| And unto this he frames his song: |
| Then will he fit his tongue |
| To dialogues of business, love, or strife; |
| But it will not be long |
| Ere this be thrown aside, |
| And with new joy and pride |
| The little actor cons another part; |
| Filling from time to time his 'humorous stage' |
| With all the Persons, down to palsied Age, |
| That Life brings with her in her equipage; |
| As if his whole vocation |
| Were endless imitation. |
| VIII |
| Thou, whose exterior semblance doth belie |
| Thy Soul's immensity; |
| Thou best philosopher, who yet dost keep |
| Thy heritage, thou eye among the blind, |
| That, deaf and silent, read'st the eternal deep, |
| Haunted for ever by the eternal mind,- |
| Mighty Prophet! Seer blest! |
| On whom those truths do rest, |
| Which we are toiling all our lives to find, |
| In darkness lost, the darkness of the grave; |
| Thou, over whom thy Immortality |
| Broods like the Day, a master o'er a slave, |
| A presence which is not to be put by; |
| To whom the grave |
| Is but a lonely bed without the sense or sight |
| Of day or the warm light, |
| A place of thought where we in waiting lie; |
| Thou little Child, yet glorious in the might |
| Of heaven-born freedom on thy being's height, |
| Why with such earnest pains dost thou provoke |
| The years to bring the inevitable yoke, |
| Thus blindly with thy blessedness at strife? |
| Full soon thy soul shall have her earthly freight, |
| And custom lie upon thee with a weight, |
| Heavy as frost, and deep almost as life! |
| IX |
| O joy! that in our embers |
| Is something that doth live, |
| That nature yet remembers |
| What was so fugitive! |
| The thought of our past years in me doth breed |
| Perpetual benediction: not indeed |
| For that which is most worthy to be blest - |
| Delight and liberty, the simple creed |
| Of childhood, whether busy or at rest, |
| With new-fledged hope still fluttering in his breast:- |
| Not for these I raise |
| The song of thanks and praise; |
| But for those obstinate questionings |
| Of sense and outward things, |
| Fallings from us, vanishings; |
| Blank misgivings of a Creature |
| Moving about in worlds not realised, |
| High instincts before which our mortal Nature |
| Did tremble like a guilty thing surprised: |
| But for those first affections, |
| Those shadowy recollections, |
| Which, be they what they may, |
| Are yet the fountain-light of all our day, |
| Are yet a master-light of all our seeing; |
| Uphold us, cherish, and have power to make |
| Our noisy years seem moments in the being |
| Of the eternal Silence; truths that wake, |
| To perish never: |
| Which neither listlessness, nor mad endeavour, |
| Nor Man nor Boy, |
| Nor all that is at enmity with joy, |
| Can utterly abolish or destroy! |
| Hence in a season of calm weather |
| Though inland far we be, |
| Our souls have sight of that immortal sea |
| Which brought us hither, |
| Can in a moment travel thither, |
| And see the children sport upon the shore, |
| And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore. |
| X |
| Then sing, ye birds, sing, sing a joyous song! |
| And let the young lambs bound |
| As to the tabor's sound! |
| We in thought will join your throng, |
| Ye that pipe and ye that play, |
| Ye that through your hearts to-day, |
| Feel the gladness of the May! |
| What though the radiance which was once so bright |
| Be now for ever taken from my sight, |
| Though nothing can bring back the hour |
| Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; |
| We will grieve not, rather find |
| Strength in what remains behind; |
| In the primal sympathy |
| Which having been must ever be; |
| In the soothing thoughts that spring |
| Out of human suffering; |
| In the faith that looks through death, |
| In years that bring the philosophic mind. |
| XI |
| And O, ye Fountains, Meadows, Hills, and Groves, |
| Forebode not any severing of our loves! |
| Yet in my heart of hearts I feel your might; |
| I only have relinquished one delight |
| To live beneath your more habitual sway. |
| I love the brooks which down their channels fret, |
| Even more than when I tripped lightly as they; |
| The innocent brightness of a new-born Day |
| Is lovely yet; |
| The clouds that gather round the setting sun |
| Do take a sober colouring from an eye |
| That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality; |
| Another race hath been, and other palms are won. |
| Thanks to the human heart by which we live, |
| Thanks to its tenderness, its joys, and fears, |
| To me the meanest flower that blows can give |
| Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. - William Wordsworth |
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
The only desire ...
It is not a desire even, it’s more like heeding the call after ignoring it for ages,
like a flowing towards the Source,
like an awakening into a wondrous world, where joy and bliss abound.
All other desires lead to attachment and end in pain....
Sunday, March 29, 2009
More wisdom ...
- The very experience of Life is only in the depth of your involvement. Have you noticed whatever you did with involvement has always been a joy?
- Enlightenment does not mean Everyone becomes one way. Enlightenment means Everyone becomes their Own way. That is the beauty of it!
- "God Loves you" is not significant. If you are in such a way that everybody cannot help but fall in love with you - now, that is Great!
- Compassion is not an attitude of kindness but an instrument of unprejudiced involvement. All inclusive passion is true compassion.
- The very source of creation is throbbing within you. You ignored it for a lifetime - can there be a worse crime?
- To abuse somebody who abuses you, You do not need any awareness But in order to remain quiet, YOU need enormous awareness.
- As long as you live, living as a complete human being is what you owe to yourself and to the people around You.
- Whether you plan to go to the mountain or to the moon, you can start your journey from the seat in which you are sitting right now.
- Awareness is aliveness. How aware you are, is how alive you are.
- Spirituality is not something you do. If you stop all your nonsense, you are spiritual. Spirituality is ultimate sense.
- When you are torn by the pain of ignorance.... then the Master arrives.
- When you don't know what to choose, just show total involvement in everything you have. Then life will choose and it is never wrong.
- Human life becomes beautiful not because we do the right things. human life becomes beautiful because we put our heart into what we are doing.
- Every activity you perform has to become .... simply an offering. Only when everything becomes just an offering then karma has no bondage.
- If you have found one person with whom you can trust your life, you are very fortunate. many people do not even find that one person.
- Basic problem with humanity is that everyone wants to be special. Only when you become ordinary like a tree, can a greater dimension of life open up to you.
- If tears of love, joy ecstasy have not washed your cheeks, you are yet to taste Life.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Wisdom
- Gratitude is not an Attitude. It is something that flows out of you when you are overwhelmed by what is being given to You.
- Being Alive is not a small thing, it is the greatest phenomenon, not just on the planet but in the whole of the cosmos.
- Unless you are free from the Process of your own Mind, unless you are free from the Process of your own Body, there is really no such thing as Freedom.
- Enlightenment need not always happen with a Bang, it can happen quietly, it can be like a flower blossoming.
- If you think, you are big... You become Small. If you KNOW you are nothing, you become Unlimited. That is the beauty of being a human being.
- If Desire is a conscious process, then there is no problem. But now that you have lost your awareness and it has become a compulsion, you are a slave to your desire.
- If you are left out of the mad compulsiveness of society, you must be really blessed. You are not Excluded, you are Included into Life.
- When unpleasant things happen in our Life, either we can become wise or wounded. This is a choice every human has.
- Do not try to be in this moment. If you are totally involved with what you are doing right now, you can only be in this moment.Where else can you be?
- Where there is just teaching, there is adoration, there is worship. Only where there is method, there will be transformation.
- Your one and only Problem and the very basis of your misery is that life is not happening the way you think it should happen.
- Once you have an inkling of the immensity of Life, once you see how small and insignificant you are, you become receptivity itself.
- Either it takes enormous Intelligence or it takes enormous Trust. These are the only two ways one can grow without struggle.
- If you get too enamoured with your own creation, then you miss the Creator's creation!
Monday, March 16, 2009
Peace
So then why are we seeking for what we carry within us all the time? Why are we looking for reasons to be happy, for external means to be happy? Why do we say if such and such condition is fulfilled, then I shall be happy? When it is all there, all the time, already. Such foolishness. Such is the power of the mind, of illusions. Such is the tragedy of the human condition.
But there is hope. Because once in a while, the illusions drop off and we see things clearly as they really are. We see the shining truth. And we know that it is there even if it then gets hidden.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Fall into me
and pain sits on the edges,
and you plunge in headlong free-fall,
come, fall into me.
Bloodied, bruised and broken,
while you look for footholds,
among the broken pieces,
come, fall into me.
When you clear away the pieces
and seek to start anew,
take my strength, my sinew,
and come, fall into me.
Drop your fear, your sorrow,
into the deep cave of my silence,
lose yourself in vastness,
come, fall into me.
Saturday soliloquy
So what else is there? I find that once we put away the things of the material world, then a whole new world of the spirit opens up. In the material world there is always a feeling of lack, and in order to fill this up we keep seeking more and more. More money, more possessions, more knowledge, more sex, more relationships. But the world of the spirit is one of abundance. It is brimming over and over-flowing. And it is available to us at all times. It is our essential nature. We are abundant and over-full. But unfortunately, we identify so totally with with we HAVE in our lives instead of what we ARE. So when the externals fall away as they are always likely to do then we flounder and faint and then catch hold of other crutches. In the process we fail to realise that we as we are, in our essential nature, are whole and complete. We are limitless, flowing, boundless, we are one and we are all. We are the universe. And there is nothing lacking in the universe.
I am also at that point in life where I’m about to say goodbye to the known and launch into the unknown. All by myself. It is scary at times and thrilling at others. But strangely enough when I face my fears they go away :) I feel like a frontier explorer. This must be how Columbus felt when he sailed away looking for India. But then I don’t even have a destination. All I know is that I’m about to set sail. Once again looking at it from the material sense, it seems scary, but when i move into the realm of the spirit, all fears drop away and I feel a sense of adventure. It is more than just an adventure in the worldly sense, it is more than jumping off a cliff in a bungee jump or rocketing down some torrential river in a canoe. This is more of a spiritual adventure, at every turn I have to deal with the many heads of the ego-dragon. At every step I have to keep from falling into the mind-trap.
Speaking of which it seemed to me last week that I had lost my mind. Seriously lost it. I was thinking and saying and doing things which I would never have considered doing a few months ago. But after all the dust had finally settled around the crisis, I realised that quite the contrary had happened. I had not lost my mind, but my mind had taken over total control of me. It had unleashed the ego which had taken over my thoughtscape and my soul was just a dim memory. I had completely and entirely forgotten that I was a spiritual being with a human body and mind not a human being with a soul tucked away somewhere.
This is why I love crises. Boy! Does it teach me lessons ! :))))))