A Commentary on the Upanishads by Swami Nirmalananda Giri -6

A Commentary

on the Upanishads

by

Swami Nirmalananda Giri

The Sorrowless Self

“Formless is he, though inhabiting form. In the midst of the fleeting he abides

forever. All-pervading and supreme is the Self. The wise man, knowing him in his true

nature, transcends all grief. (Katha Upanishad 1:2:22)

Yama continues to instruct us regarding the nature of the Self, using the most

simple words yet with the most profound meanings.

Formless is he, though inhabiting form

Ashariram sharireshu–the bodiless within bodies–such is the Self. Though ever

without a “body” or adjunct in any form (as far as its true nature is concerned), yet all

bodies are inhabited by the Self. There is no form in which the Self, the Formless, does

not dwell. Who can number the forms in which we have manifested from the beginning

of our evolutionary peregrinations in relativity, yet we have slipped away from each

embodiment as bodiless as we were from the first. Being one with Brahman, it can be

said of the Self as well as of Brahman:

“Everywhere are His hands, eyes, feet; His heads and His faces: this whole world is

His ear; He exists, encompassing all things; doing the tasks of each sense, yet Himself

devoid of the senses: standing apart, He sustains: He is free from the gunas but feels

them. He is within and without: He lives in the live and the lifeless: subtle beyond

mind’s grasp; so near us, so utterly distant: undivided, He seems to divide into objects

and creatures; sending creation forth from Himself, He upholds and withdraws it; light

of all lights, He abides beyond our ignorant darkness; knowledge, the one thing real

we may study or know, the heart’s dweller.” (Bhagavad Gita 13:13-17)

In the midst of the fleeting he abides forever

Anavastheshv’ avasthitam–the stable among the unstable, the unchanging among

the ever-changing–so is the Self. For aeons we are entertained with the ever-shifting

kaleidoscope of Maya’s web. Finally we are no longer entertained by it, but wearied.

Yet we find ourselves addicted to it. Only in the beginning do addicts love their

addiction. In time they come to loathe it, yet refuse to even hear of ridding themselves

of it. And then at last they see themselves as slaves, hating their bondage but incapable

of shedding it. Yet we are ever free.

People bound by various addictions, including alcohol and drugs, would come to

Sri Ramakrishna and plead for help. Often he would just touch them, and their

enslavement would be gone forever. Learning of this, we naturally glorify Sri

Ramakrishna for his power of merciful deliverance, but we must not overlook the great

truth it demonstrates: It was the nature of those people to be free. Otherwise he could not

have freed them.

If we would seek freedom, then, we must seek it only in the Self. And the Self being

within, we must seek within. For “Without meditation, where is peace? Without peace,

where is happiness?” (Bhagavad Gita 2:66)

All-pervading

Time and space being mirages, the Self is everywhere. Infinity is not “bigness” so

big it cannot be calculated, it is beyond measuring because it transcends the modes of

measurable being. It is simply another mode of existence altogether. The truth is, the

atman, like the Paramatman is omnipresent, omniscient, and omnipotent. (This latter is

easy, since the Self never “does” anything.) So there is no place where the Self is not

present. It goes everywhere without moving.

Supreme

The Self is supreme, but not in the sense of earthly entities. It is all-embracing. Not

only is there nothing above it, there is nothing beneath it, for such states are not

native–and therefore impossible–to it. But Maya is doing a superb job at convincing us

otherwise and fooling us into thinking that the purpose of both material life and

sadhana is to expand in the illusory realms of conditioned existence, to become large

or small, to enter in or depart–none of which are even possible for the Self.

Simply hearing about the Self can make us more ignorant than we were before if we

interpret the Self in terms of samsaric delusion.

The wise

The wise are those who know the Self as it is. And that they have accomplished by

shedding their association with the unreal and turning back to their own reality.

Transcend all grief

They transcend all grief by removing their center of awareness from the realm in

which suffering is possible. Suffering being an illusion, they need only awaken from

the dream and abide in the Real. This is not a negative state, for it is not just a removal

of sorrow, but the entering into the bliss that is the nature of the Self.

“Well done, thou good and faithful servant: enter thou into the joy of thy

lord.” (Matthew 25:21)

Who Can Know the Self?

The sense of nonsense

I once read a long and rather tedious essay on Shakespeare’s policy of putting

discomfiting truths into the mouths of fools so people could scorn them and not get

upset with him for unmasking their folly. It often happens that what people hope is “just

fun” or “nonsense” is really insightful commentary on their foibles. This happens very

often in poetry, for everybody “knows” we need not take poetry seriously.

Edward Lear, who protected himself by first claiming that he wrote “nonsense

verse,” made some profound observations on life. Some of his limericks have a lot to

say about how life should be lived. One of his wisest works was a poem entitled “The

Jumblies,” in which he tells us at the end of every verse:

Far and few, far and few,

Are the lands where the Jumblies live;

Their heads are green, and their hands are blue,

And they went to sea in a Sieve.

These exotic people went to sea in a sieve. Everyone else said they would drown,

considering that a sieve is more holes than anything else. Some even told them that

though they might manage, it would be a wrong thing to do. But they did it anyway–

excellently and to great profit. Upon their return, all the nay-sayers announced that

they, too would go to sea in a sieve. But Lear assures us still that “Far and few, far and

few, are the lands where the Jumblies live.” No; everyone will not be going to sea in a

sieve. Just the far and few Jumblies.

The requirements

Perhaps Lear, as he wrote the poem, thought of the following from the Gospel of

Saint Luke: “Then said one unto him, Lord, are there few that be saved? And he said

unto them, Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to

enter in, and shall not be able.” (Luke 13:23, 24) This is not a statement of pessimism,

but of simple fact. All manage in time, but in dribbles.

Yama has been very encouraging in his exposition of the Self, but now having told

of its wonder he enters upon the subject of what is required to know the Self. Actually,

the “price” he presents to us is quite simple and direct. If we are interested, then the

price is substantial but not impossible. If we are only window-shoppers, then the price

seems unreasonable and beyond payment. Here it is in two verses:

“The Self is not known through study of the scriptures, nor through subtlety of the

intellect, nor through much learning; but by him who longs for him is he known.’

Verily unto him does the Self reveal his true being.”

“By learning, a man cannot know him, if he desist not from evil, if he control not his

senses, if he quiet not his mind, and practice not meditation.” (Katha Upanishad 1:2:23,

24)

Not through study of the scriptures

I was fortunate some years back to live near an ideal Brahmin scholar, a professor

of mathematics at a university. Together we formed a Hindu Parishad to help Indian

residents stay focused on Sanatana Dharma while living in the West. At our first

meeting several of us spoke. In his discourse, Sri Dwivedi spoke of the nature of true

dharma as a way of life and not a system of abstract concepts. In contrast, the other

religions of the world are all “people of The Book.” Their entire identity is taken up

with following a Book and professing its teachings. As a consequence, he pointed out,

they can all “dialogue” with even the Marxists, for they, too, are people of a Book. But

what can they say to real dharma, which cannot be gotten out of a book? See how vast

are the sacred writings of Sanatana Dharma, yet we know that they are of limited value

once true wisdom is gained.

Reading the Bhagavad Gita opened to me a world I had never thought could exist.

How many wonderful things I found therein! Many were amazing, not the least being

the statement: “When the whole country is flooded, the reservoir becomes

superfluous. So, to the illumined seer, the Vedas are all superfluous.” (Bhagavad Gita

2:46) Here was a scripture that told me I should go beyond it and know for myself–and

showed me the way to do that! Sri Ramakrishna often used the simile of a letter. Once

you read it and know what it says, what more need do you have for it?

The self cannot be known through scriptural study, for Krishna tells us that “he

who even wishes to know of yoga transcends the Vedic rites.” (Bhagavad Gita 6:44)

Books are nothing more than paper and ink. Obsession with them is detrimental,

proving the truth of the statement that: “the letter kills, but the spirit gives life.” (II

Corinthians 3:6) We must get behind the words of even illumined masters and tap the

Source of those words.

Sri Ramakrishna frequently pointed out that almanacs predict rainfall, but you

cannot get a drop by squeezing them, however hard. In the same way, intense study of

scriptures cannot give a drop of spiritual life, for no book can reveal That which lies

beyond all we think or know.

Not through subtlety of the intellect

We cannot possibly figure out the nature of anything, much less the Self, by mere

intellection. This is not the fault of the mind, any more than it is the fault of a blender

that you cannot get television programs through it. There is absolutely no faculty

which can perceive or reveal the Self. The Self alone knows Itself. As long as we

attempt to perceive the Self through any intermediary, just so long shall we be

frustrated–or worse, deluded. There is no instrument, however subtle, no capacity of

the mind, however refined, that can reveal the Self. Yet, the purified intellect (buddhi)

can intuit the presence of the Self and even some of its traits, and this is good, but this

is not Self-knowledge. Many intelligent people with highly developed intellects mistake

this intuition for direct experience and knowledge. This is a subtle trap we must avoid

diligently. How could we know if we have fallen into the trap rather than risen into the

Light? That actually is easy to determine. If we can talk about what we perceive, and

define it, then it is not the Self, but only our approximation. That which lies within the

range of speech lies outside the Self. No matter how near we can come to the Self, it is

not the same as knowing the Self. For when the Self is revealed, all “knowing” not only

ceases, it becomes impossible.

Intelligence should not be confused with intellectuality. Intelligence is a help to the

revelation of the Self, but intellectuality is an insurmountable hindrance. That is why

Jesus said to God: “Thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and hast

revealed them unto babes.” (Matthew 11:25) To demonstrate this vividly, “Jesus called

a little child unto him, and set him in the midst of them, and said, Verily I say unto you,

Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the

kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:2, 3) Think how direct and uncomplicated a child’s

mind usually is. Also, they are capable of intensely magical/mystical thought. How

unquestioning they accept the idea of the miraculous, including the power of the

individual–including themselves–to work marvels. How sad that they ever come to

“know better” in a wrong way. A friend of mine was watching a television program in

which a pianist seemed to be floating in the air and even turning over and over. “How

do you suppose they do that?” she mused to herself aloud. Instantly her five-year-old

said: “Easy! There’s a magician hidden in the piano.” And that is so true: there is a

magical being hidden in each one of us known as the Self which can do–and does–all

things.

Not through much learning

Vyasa was the greatest sage of post-Vedic India, codifier of the Vedas,

commentator on the Yoga Sutras, author of the Mahabharata (which includes the

Bhagavad Gita), and the Brahma Sutras (Vedanta Sutras). Vast as his writings were, he

summed up everything that was taught by these holy books, saying:

I shall tell you in half a verse what has been written in tens of millions of books:

Brahman is real. The world is unreal. The jiva [individual spirit] is none other than

Brahman.

That is it. So when the future Swami Turiyananda told Sri Ramakrishna that he

studied Vedanta for several hours a day, the great Master was astonished. Quoting the

words of Vyasa, he asked: “How can you spend hours studying something so simple?

What more is there to say?” Turiyananda got the idea behind the idea and himself

became a knower of the Self.

All the learning in the world is futile in relation to the Self and Brahman, for they lie

outside the scope of the intellect. The ear cannot hear color, the eye cannot smell

fragrance. No thing can know the Self but the Self.

It can be done

Yama’s words of seeming negation are really quite positive, for he then tells

Nachiketa: “But by him who longs for him is he known. Verily unto him does the Self

reveal his true being.”

This is a remarkable statement. There are no tools or gimmicks that can

mechanically lead us to the vision of the Self. Certainly there are methods that aid in

our search–that is what yoga is all about. But it is a mistake to think that a technique

can be applied like a crowbar to break open the inner treasury and loot the vault. (And

this is the attitude of most “seekers.”) Methods, such as yoga (meditation), worship,

and good deeds are necessary to successfully prosecute our quest for God. Their

function is twofold: they prepare us–make us capable–for the attainment of selfknowledge,

and they are manifestations–evidence, actually–of the genuineness of our

aspiration. By engaging in them we live out our intention.

Ma Anandamayi continually assured people that the desire for God was the way to

God–everything else were aids or expressions, but it is our own divine self-will that

accomplishes our liberation. This is very important to understand.

It is commonly said that all religions are valid, that they all led to the same goal.

That is true to some degree, but it leaves out the real fact: it is the seeking that brings

about the finding. Frankly, it is the seekers who validate the religions, not the other

way around. People finding God in all religions is not a statement about the worth of

those religions, but a statement about the worth of those people. Sri Ramakrishna

attained God-vision through the various religions he practiced and thereby

demonstrated their viability as spiritual paths. But he also revealed that it is the nature

of the individual to attain that vision whatever the path that is followed. For without

that innate capacity what value would the religions have? The jivatman by its nature

can know the Paramatman. As the Psalmist said: “Deep calleth unto deep.” (Psalms

42:7) Like attracts like; it really does take one to know one.

Swami Prabhavananda notes that an alternate translation can be: “Whom the Self

chooses, by him is he attained.” In India they have the saying: “He who chooses God

has first been chosen by Him.” Jesus told his disciples: “ Ye have not chosen me, but I

have chosen you.” (John 15:16) The very fact that we are seeking God is guarantee of

our finding, for it is an indication that He has called us. And He does not call in vain.

Nor do we seek in vain. “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock,

and it shall be opened unto you.” (Matthew 7:7) “Verily unto him does the Self reveal

his true being.”

Yet there are obstacles to knowing the Self: “By learning, a man cannot know him,

if he desist not from evil, if he control not his senses, if he quiet not his mind, and

practice not meditation.” (Katha Upanishad 1:2:24)

Learning

Yama lists mere intellectual study, the heaping up of extraneous “knowledge”

which by its character is external and superficial as an obstacle–not so much in itself,

but by the illusion of knowledge that arises in the self-satisfied mind of the “knower.”

Yama’s assertion shows how mistaken it is to translate swadhyaya (self-study) as “study

of scriptures” when we encounter it in the Yoga Sutras.

The Kena Upanishad examines this matter, saying: “He by whom Brahman is not

known, knows It; he by whom It is known, knows It not. It is not known by those who

know It; It is known by those who do not know It.” (Kena Upanishad 2:3) Obviously the

word “know” has two meanings here. One is the mere intellection about Brahman, the

other is knowledge derived from the direct experience of Brahman, from conscious

union with Brahman. There is a knowing that is unknowing and an unknowing that is

knowing. That is why Swami Prabhavananda renders the Kena verse: “He truly knows

Brahman who knows him as beyond knowledge; he who thinks that he knows, knows

not. The ignorant think that Brahman is known, but the wise know him to be beyond

knowledge.”

Persisting in evil

Evil in all forms must be abandoned if the Self, which is all good, is to be known.

This should not be hard to understand, but many deny it anyway, or try to skirt around

it. Of them Jesus said: “They have their reward” (Matthew 6:2, 5, 16)–a false security

that is really “the sleep of death.” (Psalms 13:3) But for us who wish to live it is

important to determine what is good and what is evil, what is right and what is wrong.

Sanatana Dharma has a concept of right and wrong unique among the world

religions. The others teach that something is right or wrong because their God or

Prophet has said so in their infallible scriptures. “It is in the Bible,” “It is in the

ZendAvesta,” “It is in the Koran,” etc. Although the scriptures of Hindu Dharma do

mention things as being good or evil, the basis for the statements are utterly different

from that of other religions.

Sanatana Dharma does not look upon a thing as wrong because God or gods have

declared it wrong or some lawgiver has prohibited it. And the same in relation to the

things that are right. Rather, a thing is good or evil according to its innate character.

Many times people tried to get Mata Anandamayi to approve or disapprove of

something. But she would simply say: “If it takes you toward the Goal it is good. If it

takes you away from the Goal it is evil.” That which darkens, obscures, or limits our

consciousness is bad. That which lights, clears, and expands our consciousness is

good. That which helps in the search for God is good; that which hinders or delays it is

not.

We all know people who declare that their addictions and illusions either do not

hurt them or even are good for them. Very well; they have their reward. But the

intelligent do not engage in such childish rationalization. They impartially examine and

conclude accordingly. It is all a matter of the individual’s interest and honesty. In other

words, it is all in our hands–as are all the aspects of our life if we face up to it. Sanatana

Dharma does not list “bads” and “goods” because it assumes that those who wish to

pursue dharma can judge for themselves. Though we can certainly determine whether

the Vedic scriptures consider something harmful or helpful, we should look upon the

list as neither exhaustive or even binding. Sanatana Dharma is Manava Dharma–

human dharma. And human beings use their intelligent reason. Sanatana Dharma also

leaves every one free to be wise or foolish. Dharma never condemns or praises. It just

waits to be fulfilled.

Lack of sense control

The senses must be controlled, but we usually mistake the way to do so. The

upanishads use the simile of horses pulling a chariot, and we mistake that, too,

thinking it a symbol of incredible forces to be overcome. But we need not think of it so

drastically. Before you control a horse, you tame it. So before we control the senses we

“tame” them through purification. Sadhana is the only way. Meditation alone purifies in

a lasting manner. At the same time we purify the senses by directing them Godward.

We make the eyes look at sacred symbols or depictions, the ears to hear the words of

sacred texts and sacred music, the nose to smell the offered incense, the tongue to

taste the offered sweets or food, and the inner sense of touch to feel the exalted

atmosphere created by worship and contact with the holy. Pilgrimage is valuable

because it is a “total sense” experience of holiness. The good news is that we need not

struggle with the senses, but turn them in spiritual directions.

Restlessness of mind

Restlessness of mind is itself great suffering. Yama says that a quiet mind is

indispensable to self-knowledge. Here is what Krishna has to say about it:

“If a yogi has perfect control over his mind, and struggles continually in this way to

unite himself with Brahman, he will come at last to the crowning peace of Nirvana, the

peace that is in me.” (Bhagavad Gita 6:15)

“When can a man be said to have achieved union with Brahman? When his mind is

under perfect control and freed from all desires, so that he becomes absorbed in the

Atman, and nothing else. ‘The light of a lamp does not flicker in a windless place’: that

is the simile which describes a yogi of one-pointed mind, who meditates upon the

Atman. When, through the practice of yoga, the mind ceases its restless movements,

and becomes still, he realizes the Atman. It satisfies him entirely. Then he knows that

infinite happiness which can be realized by the purified heart but is beyond the grasp

of the senses. He stands firm in this realization. Because of it, he can never again

wander from the inmost truth of his being.” (Bhagavad Gita 6:18-21)

Can I say more than that?

Without meditation

“Wi thout medi tat ion, wher e i s peace? Wi thout peace, wher e i s

happiness?” (Bhagavad Gita 2:66)

The sine qua non of self-knowledge is meditation. The Self is ever-present but we do

not perceive it because our vision is obscured by the illusion known as Maya. After

describing the method of meditation, Krishna says: “If he practices meditation in this

manner, his heart will become pure” (Bhagavad Gita 6:12) and the Self will become

literally self-evident. In conclusion he remarks: “Make a habit of practicing meditation,

and do not let your mind be distracted. In this way you will come finally to the Lord,

who is the light-giver, the highest of the high.” (Bhagavad Gita 8:8)

The formula

The Self can be known by those who truly desire to know. And that true desire

manifests through desisting from evil, controlling of the senses, quieting (restraining)

the mind, and practicing meditation. This is the real Formula For Success.

The All-Consuming Self

Somewhere along the line–perhaps when they stopped killing their own people for

sacrificial victims and committing genocide for the glory of their gods–the religion of

Westerners lost its vigor. “Spiritual” came to be equated with the insubstantial and

ethereal, degenerating in time into an airy and vaporous sentimentalism of the sickliest

character. Languishing in love for God became an ideal along with nobly bearing the

terrible burdens God threw onto a groaning and groveling humanity. The keynote of

all this was passivity, and not a passivity born of true courage or nobility, but from a

crushing sense of impotence and hopelessness. Hell became exalted to heaven, and

the contempt of a capricious and tyrannical God became Divine Love, a love that

demanded placation and acceptance-obedience. This God of love hated a lot more

things than he liked and basically tolerated nothing. His religion in time became just

like him, and so did many of his devotees–in attitude and deed. Since he was the ideal

Father, they began treating their children just as he did his. Contemporary Western

society is the result. Even the rebellion against this madness is as hateful, ignorant,

and repressive as that which is being supposedly rejected. Only the pious cover is

discarded; the evil core flourishes. The utter insubstantiality of the “spirituelle” has

become a logical doorway to denial of any spiritual reality.

In the East (India) things are fundamentally different, even if some of the sillier

ways of Western religion are also to be found there, particularly in the “bhakti

movement.” The concept of the Self as identified with the Supreme Self rather than a

creation whose tenuous existence is continually threatened by the possibility of divine

wrath, has produced a psychology and a society the reverse of that found in the West.

The Self is as eternal and immovable as God–because it is one with God. Always.

In the nineteenth century the remarkable poet, author, and mystic Emily Bronte

became exposed to the Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gita while studying in Belgium.

She had long before instinctually rejected the ignorant religion of her childhood, but

now she had an intelligent basis for her rejection. Fortunately it took the form of

affirmation rather than negation. She had seen clearly when nine or so that she and all

her sisters (and brother) would die young of the same disease (tuberculosis), and had

written a poem about it. When death was only a matter of weeks away, she wrote this

final poem:

No coward soul is mine,

No trembler in the world’s storm-troubled sphere:

I see Heaven’s glories shine,

And Faith shines equal, arming me from Fear.

O God within my breast,

Almighty, ever-present Deity!

Life, that in me has rest,

As I, undying Life, have power in Thee!

Vain are the thousand creeds

That move men’s hearts: unutterably vain;

Worthless as withered weeds,

Or idlest froth amid the boundless main,

To waken doubt in one

Holding so fast by Thy infinity,

So surely anchored on

The steadfast rock of Immortality.

With wide-embracing love

Thy Spirit animates eternal years,

Pervades and broods above,

Changes, sustains, dissolves, creates, and rears.

Though earth and moon were gone,

And suns and universes ceased to be,

And Thou wert left alone,

Every existence would exist in Thee.

There is not room for Death,

Nor atom that his might could render void:

Thou–thou art Being and Breath,

And what thou art may never be destroyed.

Yama’s analysis of the Self has had a very logical progression. Then he tosses out

to Nachiketa a single incredible sentence: “To him Brahmins and Kshatriyas are but

food, and death itself a condiment.” (Katha Upanishad 1:2:25)

All that we consider worthy of respect, either venerable (brahmin) or powerful

(kshatriya), is but a snack to the everlasting Self. Even death, which is ever with us and

seemingly rules our destiny, is but a flavoring for the Self at its feast of life, adding

spice.

Yama’s words are reminiscent of Arjuna’s vision of the Universal Self in the

eleventh chapter of the Bhagavad Gita. Since the individual atman and the Paramatman

are one they have the same qualities. Just as Arjuna saw that all things emanate from

the Supreme and are reabsorbed in the Supreme–are “eaten” by It, so it is with the

Self. All that is “us” has come from the Self and shall return to the Self. The Self is the

eternal immortal source of that which we think is temporal and perishable. But only

the forms are such. Their essence is the Self.

Unborn, the Self moves through many births. Formless, the Self inhabits many

forms. Untouched, the Self encounters a myriad objects. Unconditioned, the Self

manifests countless qualities. Remaining what it is, the Self appears to be all that it is

not. All that it encounters is but its repast, and its births and deaths merely a sauce.

“Licking with your burning tongues, devouring all the worlds, you probe the

heights of heaven!” (Bhagavad Gita 11:30)

The Divine Indwellers

“Both the individual self and the Universal Self have entered the cave of the heart,

the abode of the Most High, but the knowers of Brahman and the householders who

perform the fire sacrifices see a difference between them as between sunshine and

shadow.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:1)

The two selves

There are two selves–the many individual selves and the one Universal Self. The

Mundaka Upanishad likens them to two birds of the same appearance who sit in the

same tree. “Like two birds of golden plumage, inseparable companions, the individual

self and the immortal Self are perched on the branches of the selfsame tree. The

former tastes of the sweet and bitter fruits of the tree; the latter, tasting of neither,

calmly observes.” (Mundaka Upanishad 3.1.1) First we come to know the individual

self, and that enables us to attain the knowledge of the All-inclusive Self. How the two

exist as one yet two is incomprehensible to the intellect but is readily experienced by

the inmost consciousness of the persevering yogi. Yet intellectually we need to have

some grasp of the unity/duality, otherwise we can have no correct perspective on

anything, inner or outer. Extreme dualism is an error, and “monism” of any kind is

even worse in its “simplisticism.” For this reason the enlightened use the expression

Non-Dual (advaita) as the nearest we can come to conveying the truth of our existence.

The verse beginning Purnamadah purnamidam is usually interpreted as a statement

that the Relative has come from the Transcendent while retaining essential unity with

the Transcendent. But it can also be understood as referring to the individual Self that

exists rooted in the Universal Self. It, the atman, originates in the Supreme Self, the

Paramatman, and is never separate from that Self. If examined, the two will be seen to

be one. How is it possible? The One alone knows–and those who have united their

consciousness with the One through yoga.

The cave of the heart

It is easy to see that the individual Self abides in–and as–the heart (hridaya), but

when we look at the vast manifestation of Cosmic Life we call “creation” it is natural for

our awareness to be drawn outward and thereby forget that the Supreme Self is right

there inside in the same space (akasha). The Paramatman is not in the cave of our

heart only incidentally, since It is everywhere, but that is Its abode, its “native place,”

Its center. Its manifestation can be found everywhere, but It can be found only in the

cave of the heart.

“Only that yogi whose joy is inward, inward his peace, and his vision inward shall

come to Brahman and know Nirvana.” (Bhagavad Gita 5:24)

“Great is that yogi who seeks to be with Brahman, greater than those who mortify

the body, greater than the learned, greater than the doers of good works: therefore,

Arjuna, become a yogi.” (Bhagavad Gita 6:46)

How foolish to climb mountains, delve into the earth, wander across the plains, or

cross the seas, thinking to find the Abode of God–which is the heart alone.

The two knowers

There are those who know Brahman directly and those who possess a secondary

knowledge based on intuition resulting from their seeking of Brahman. Though only

the first really know Brahman, yet the others’ “knowing about” Brahman is of such a

character that it can lead them on to the direct knowledge of the illumined. Both of

these have the same understanding without contradiction. Therefore the Finders never

disdain the Seekers.

The difference

What do the Finders and Seekers know? That the atman and the Paramatman,

though one, are as different as sunshine and shadow. But not in the sense of being

opposite or antithetical to one another. Rather, it means that the individual Self exists

only because the Supreme Self exists, just as a shadow can only exist because of the

light. As the Rig Veda says of the Supreme Self: “His shadow is immortality.” Also, the

idea is that the individual self (jivatman) is a reflection of the Supreme Self

(Paramatman). Later, Yama will say: “He shining, everything shines.” (Katha

Upanishad 2:2:15)

The aspiration

Since the foregoing is true, the next verse of the upanishad says: “May we perform

the Nachiketa Sacrifice, which bridges the world of suffering. May we know the

imperishable Brahman, who is fearless, and who is the end and refuge of those who

seek liberation.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:2)

What is the Nachiketa Sacrifice? It is not a secret fire ritual that produces a magical

enlightenment. The Nachiketa Sacrifice is the determined search for knowledge

(jnana) which stops not until the Goal is reached. That this is the correct

understanding is demonstrated by the results desired by the sacrificer: the knowledge

of Brahman.

The search for union with God is the bridge which we cross to be free from this

world of suffering. Seeking God is itself the guarantee that we shall find Him. Many

who lack confidence worry as to whether they can succeed in spiritual life, if they are

“ready,” and so forth. But the very fact that they wish to find God means that they have

already travelled far along the path in previous lives. Otherwise they would sleep along

with most of the world. “For the man who has once asked the way to Brahman goes

further than any mere fulfiller of the Vedic rituals.” (Bhagavad Gita 6:44) “The

scriptures declare that merit can be acquired by studying the Vedas, performing

ritualistic sacrifices, practising austerities and giving alms. But the yogi who has

understood this teaching of mine will gain more than any who do these things. He will

reach that universal source, which is the uttermost abode of God.” (Bhagavad Gita

8:28)

Truly, “May we know the imperishable Brahman, who is fearless, and who is the

end and refuge of those who seek liberation.”

The Chariot

Perhaps the most perfect simile of our condition as human beings as we meander

through the labyrinth of continual birth and death is that given in the Katha

Upanishad, and it is worthy of careful analysis.

“Know that the Self is the rider, and the body the chariot; that the intellect is the

charioteer, and the mind the reins.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:3) The first idea set forth in

this verse is the completely inactive role of the individual Self (atman). The other

“ingredients” in the list are actively involved in “living” but the atman is absolutely

beyond any activity, and is merely the observer. This is because its nature is pure

consciousness–and nothing else.

Body-chariot

The body is the chariot, a conglomerate of parts without any consciousness or will

of its own. (Did anyone else “out there” grow up hearing certain fundamentalists say:

“I don’t sin but my body sins”?) Yet, being pervaded by the intellect (buddhi) it does

seem to have “a mind of its own.” It does not, but it is an extension-expression of the

mind and as such has great relevance to the spiritual aspirant. Sri Ramakrishna used to

study the physical configuration of newcomers and thereby determine their spiritual

qualifications. So we must not think of the body as an inert thing. It is alive, but alive

through the indwelling spirit. We may not be the body, but the body is certainly an

expression of ourself. The body is not only the vehicle of our accumulated karmas it is

the embodiment of them. Our karmas are incarnated in the body much more than is

the Self.

Intellect-charioteer

“The intellect is the charioteer.” Our movement through “life” is solely through the

agency of the intellect, the buddhi. This is why Krishna speaks of Buddhi Yoga as the

process of liberation. Yoga is solely under the supervision of the buddhi. Yoga takes

place both through the buddhi and within the buddhi. This gives us a tremendous

insight into the nature of liberation: it is totally a matter of intellect, of reconstruction of

awareness. The wise certainly undertake many external, even physical, disciplines to

assist in their practice of yoga, but all of these are intended to affect the buddhi in its

striving towards enlightenment. Since the buddhi is the charioteer, its quality

determines everything in life. The cultivation of our buddhi, then, must be the focus of

our sadhana. Any humanimal can be taught asanas and pranayama, but only the

developed human can engage in real yoga. (By “pranayama” I mean only the physical

breathing exercises of Hatha Yoga, not the subtle practices of Raja Yoga–that is a

different matter altogether.) If you think this previous statement is extreme let me tell

you something I learned early on in my “yoga life.”

In 1962 I was privileged to meet and listen to the venerable A. B. Purani, the

administrator of the renowned Aurobindo Ashram. Sri Purani had been a fellow

revolutionary with the (future) great Master Sri Aurobindo Ghosh (who, incidentally,

was a high school teacher and inspirer of Paramhansa Yogananda). Later he became

Sri Aurobindo’s disciple and lived in the ashram for many years before the master’s

passing.

During one of his brilliant discourses at the East-West Cultural Center in

Hollywood, Sri Purani told of an experience he had while travelling to the United

States. He had stopped over in Japan where he was invited to speak to a yoga group in

Tokyo. This group taught and practiced only Hatha Yoga (asanas and pranayama). At

the conclusion of his talk, Sri Purani asked them: “Would you agree that the greatest

yogis of recent times were Sri Ramakrishna, Sri Aurobindo, and Sri Ramana

Maharshi?” They expressed unanimous assent to this statement. “Yet,” he pointed out,

“not one of them practiced Hatha Yoga. So why do you consider yourselves yogis when

you only practice that which they never bothered with?”

No matter how many external assists we may use, yoga is essentially of the buddhi

alone.

Mind-reins

“And the mind the reins.” By mind (manah) is meant the sensory mind, the

intermediary between the intellect and the body–and the entire world, as well.

Through the mind the intellect sees whether the body should act or be still. For

example, the mind conveys the sensation of a hand burning to the intellect, which then

directs the body–again, through the mind–to pull the hand away from the fire and

plunge it in cold water or some such remedy.

The next element in the matter are the senses, without which the mind would have

nothing to show the intellect. Therefore:

Sense-horses

“The senses, say the wise, are the horses; the roads they travel are the mazes of

desire.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:4)

It is the senses that drag the chariot of the body along according to their impulses.

If the buddhi is weak or underdeveloped, the mind which is driven by pain-pleasure

motivation alone takes complete charge in giving “full rein” to the senses. Having no

intelligence they plunge onward, ever seeking fulfillment and, not finding it, hurtling

even further on the paths of unreason and folly. For “the roads they travel are the

mazes of desire” rather than intelligence. As a consequence the individual becomes

hopelessly lost and mired in the morass of external sensation. Enslavement to body

and senses is the only possible consequence–death in life and ultimately death in

“actuality”–of the body and senses.

Self-definition

“Who am I?” is the gate to real understanding, for it sets us seeking true

knowledge. And the upanishadic verse continues: “The wise call the Self the enjoyer

when he is united with the body, the senses, and the mind.” We certainly do not enjoy a

great deal of our experiences in/through the body, so perhaps a better translation of

bhokta is “experiencer” rather than enjoyer.

The major idea in this verse is that the Self is the actionless consciousness that

experiences the intellect, mind, senses, and body. As a consequence we can

understand that the Self is never “the doer” at any time. The Gita illumines this for us,

saying: “Every action is really performed by the gunas [sensory energies]. Man,

deluded by his egoism, thinks: ‘I am the doer.’ But he who has the true insight into the

operations of the gunas and their various functions, knows that when senses attach

themselves to objects, gunas are merely attaching themselves to gunas. Knowing this,

he does not become attached to his actions.” (Bhagavad Gita 3:27, 28) “You dream you

are the doer.” (Bhagavad Gita 5:14) “Let the wise man know these gunas alone as the

doers of every action; let him learn to know That Which is beyond them,

also.” (Bhagavad Gita 14:19)

There is more material like this, but the sum is: “The truly admirable man controls

his senses by the power of his will.” (Bhagavad Gita 3:7) This is because: “The senses

are said to be higher than the sense-objects. The mind is higher than the senses. The

intelligent will is higher than the mind. What is higher than the intelligent will? The

Atman Itself.” (Bhagavad Gita 3:42)

The practical application

“When a man lacks discrimination and his mind is uncontrolled, his senses are

unmanageable, like the restive horses of a charioteer. But when a man has

discrimination and his mind is controlled, his senses, like the well-broken horses of a

charioteer, lightly obey the rein.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:5, 6)

And more:

“He who lacks discrimination, whose mind is unsteady and whose heart is impure,

never reaches the goal, but is born again and again. But he who has discrimination,

whose mind is steady and whose heart is pure, reaches the goal, and having reached it

is born no more. The man who has a sound understanding for charioteer, a controlled

mind for reins–he it is that reaches the end of the journey, the supreme abode of

Vishnu, the all pervading.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:7-9)

The Chariot’s Journey

The upanishadic seers have just told us that the Self in the body is like a driver in a

chariot. Now they set the intended journey before us.

“The senses derive from physical objects, physical objects from mind, mind from

intellect, intellect from ego, ego from the unmanifested seed, and the unmanifested

seed from Brahman–the Uncaused Cause. Brahman is the end of the journey.

Brahman is the supreme goal.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:10, 11)

It is the genealogy of perception that is being outlined here, for if we reverse the

order of perception we will come to perceive the Source, the Eternal Witness Itself.

This verse, then, is a exposition of the chain, or progression of consciousness.

According to it, the hierarchy of perception is:

Brahman (Purusha)

Unmanifested seed (Avyaktam)

Ego (Atma Mahan–the Great Self or Mahat Tattwa)

Intellect (Buddhi)

Mind (Manas)

Senses (Indriyas)

Physical objects (Arthas)

The Bhagavad Gita (3:42) gives a similar but simpler list relating exclusively to the

individual (microcosm) rather than the Universal (Macrocosm), but we can translate

the foregoing list to relate to us as individual beings (jivas). In that case we get:

The Self

The unmanifested yet out-turned will-energy

The sense of “I am”

The intellect

The mind

The senses

The sense organs.

My list is more literal than that of Swami Prabhavananda. It is not more meritorious

when considering the Cosmos, but it is better when looking at the situation of the

individual being.

Having descended the ladder, how do we get back up–especially since we have no

memory of how we managed the descent? Luckily for us the yogis of India figured that

out for us untold eons ago, and it works as well today as it did then. Meditation is the

way of ascent back to awareness of the Self. It is possible to work our way back up the

ladder, for the “rungs” are not disparate elements but evolutes or emanations of those

above them. If all the rungs, including the senses themselves, were not extensions of

the Self, we could not reach back to the Self. This is as true on the microcosmic level

as it is on the macrocosmic. Fortunately Brahman has not “fallen” and forgotten Itself,

but It, too, withdraws and projects himself as creation–as we do ourselves by coming

into manifestation and eventually into physical birth. “As above, so below” has many

ramifications.

The destination and how to get there

“Brahman is the end of the journey. Brahman is the supreme goal.” But the simple

saying counts for little. So the upanishad continues: “This Brahman, this Self, deephidden

in all beings, is not revealed to all; but to the seers, pure in heart, concentrated

in mind–to them is he revealed.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:12) Who sees Brahman? The

sukshma-darshibhih–those who can see the subtle, the inmost Reality.

How, then, can we become seers of the Subtle? By continually developing our

capacity for inner perception and simultaneously refining our inner faculties. To do that

we must “go inside” in meditation and work with our inner mechanism called the

antahkarana by the yogis. As the Taittiriya Upanishad says: “Seek to know Brahman

by meditation.” (Taittiriya Upanishad 3.2.1) And: “Om is Brahman. Om is all. He who

meditates on Om attains to Brahman.” (Taittiriya Upanishad 1.8.1)

“Within the lotus of the heart he dwells, where, like the spokes of a wheel in its

hub, the nerves meet. Meditate on him as OM. Easily mayest thou cross the sea of

darkness.” (Mundaka Upanishad 2.2.6)

“The mind may be compared to a firestick, the syllable OM to another. Rub the two

sticks together by repeating the sacred syllable and meditating on Brahman, and the

flame of knowledge will be kindled in your heart and all impurities will be burnt

away.” (Kaivalya Upanishad 11) “Let your body be the stick that is rubbed, the sacred

syllable OM the stick that is rubbed against it. Thus shall you realize God, who is

hidden within the body as fire is hidden within the wood.” (Swetashwatara Upanishad

1:14)

Turning back

“The senses of the wise man obey his mind, his mind obeys his intellect, his

intellect obeys his ego, and his ego obeys the Self.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:13) This, too,

is the product/effect of meditation! Meditation is the establishing of order within and

without.

Marching orders!

“Arise! Awake! Approach the feet of the master and know THAT.” (Katha

Upanishad 1:3:14)

In point of fact, the text does not say “approach the feet of the master,” but prapya

varan, which means “having attained boons.” The idea is to seek and attain kripa–

grace. Actually, the scriptures speak of three kinds of kripa: 1) sadhana kripa, the

grace of self-effort; 2) guru kripa, the grace of a teacher, and 3) divya kripa, divine

grace. This wise will gain all three. But there is no denying that kripa is a requisite for

those who, having arisen and awakened, seek Brahman.

The path

The verse continues: “Like the sharp edge of a razor, the sages say, is the path.

Narrow it is, and difficult to tread!” Immediately we think of Jesus words: “Enter ye in

at the strait gate: for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction,

and many there be which go in thereat: because strait is the gate, and narrow is the

way, which leadeth unto life, and few there be that find it.” (Matthew 7:13, 14)

Because popular religion, despite its attempt to entice followers, continually implies

or outright states that spiritual life is hard (I grew up with this in fundamentalist

Protestantism and found it outrageous), we tend to look at the principles of Sanatana

Dharma with a tainted perspective. The upanishad is not telling us in the manner of

Western religion how hard it will be to follow the way of life.

The clue to difficulty in spiritual is found in the description of the path as “like the

sharp edge of a razor.” The idea is that the path is extremely subtle–not arduous. But

that makes it all the more difficult, even impossible, for those of coarse minds. This,

and this alone, is what makes the path hard to tread.

No spiritual discipline comes near to being as hard as the things human beings

commonly do every day to get the things they want. And “want” is the operative word.

If we do not want a thing, then any action needed to obtain it will be tedious and “too

hard.” But if we want it intensely, then no effort is too much or too hard. That is why

the thirty-fourth Ode of Solomon says: “There is no hard way where there is a simple

heart, nor any barrier where the thoughts are upright. Nor is there any whirlwind in

the depth of the illuminated thought. Where one is surrounded on every side by

pleasing country, there is nothing divided in him.” So the problem is in us, not in the

path.

Here, as in the last essay, we see that the solution is to refine our consciousness

through meditation. We must also refine our physical and mental bodies through

purity of thought and deed and especially purity of diet. The ingesting of animal flesh,

alcohol, nicotine and mind-affecting drugs is a frontal attack on spiritual life. It is

completely insane for a seeker to engage in such destructive habits (and they are

addictions).

The subtle Goal

The absolute necessity for refinement of perception through refinement of all the

levels of our being is revealed by the nature of the path’s goal: “Soundless, formless,

intangible, undying, tasteless, odorless, without beginning, without end, eternal,

immutable, beyond nature, is the Self. Knowing him as such, one is freed from

death.” (Katha Upanishad 1:3:15)

We must become able to hear Silence, see the Formless, touch the Untouchable,

live to the Immortal, taste the Tasteless, perceive the fragrance of the Odorless, and

transcend all relative measure, and even relativity itself. Such a state is verily

inconceivable to us at the present. But it can be achieved through yoga.

Let us arise, awake, pass from death unto life, and lay hold of Immortality.

The Glorious Way

The Katha Upanishad is now going to elaborate on the path so we can better

understand how to journey upon it.

“The Self-Existent made the senses turn outward. Accordingly, man looks toward

what is without, and sees not what is within. Rare is he who, longing for immortality,

shuts his eyes to what is without and beholds the Self.” (Katha Upanishad 2:1:1)

Why?

The first thing this verse teaches us is that the Divine Itself has caused our

consciousness to turn outward. This is not the result of any negative force or “fall” on

our part. (The fall took place as a wrong response to the outward turn.) What was the

purpose of our turning outward? Evolution. We had to enter into relative existence and

run the maze of ever-ascending evolution in order to satisfy our innate urge for infinity.

(For more on this, see Ladder of Light.) Consequently, there is nothing wrong with the

senses turning outward; the problem is when the senses become locked in

externalizing. The purpose of our entering the field of evolutionary life was for us to

experience the many shades of evolving consciousness while never losing awareness

of our true nature or identifying with the costumes we constantly donned and put off as

the ages progressed. However it may have been intended, the situation has horribly

changed, making us blind to inner realities.

Sunk in awareness of seeming mortality, human beings either seek to distract

themselves from the terror and pain which arises from their delusion, or they seek

some way to attain immortality. Both searches are based on delusion, so they can only

fail. We need not become immortal, but must realize our present, eternal immortal

nature. Those who shut their eyes–their consciousness–to the false appearances of

external existence and turn within discover the truth of their immortality. No longer do

they think that the solution is to be found in some external factor, but clearly see that

their own Self is the wondrous answer.

The foolish and the wise

“Fools follow the desires of the flesh and fall into the snare of all-encompassing

death; but the wise, knowing the Self as eternal, seek not the things that pass

away.” (Katha Upanishad 2:1:2)

In its true state, relative existence is a vast field of life, but when it is overlain with

the veneer of our inner delusions, it becomes death to us. That which is meant to

expand our consciousness and free us into Infinity becomes a prison, a killer of our

soul–and this is all our doing. The world remains what it ever was, but we have lost

sight of its nature just as we have become blind to our own Self.

The urge to expansion of consciousness through upward-moving evolution

becomes distorted into a myriad desires arising from our false identity with the body

and its illusory mortality. “Seize the moment!” is our despairing cry. Seeking to live, we

plunge ourselves “into the snare of all-encompassing death.”

The wise, who have come to know their immortality through the direct experience

produced (only) by meditation, turn from the snare and seek only that which cannot

pass away because it has never come into being at some point in time, but is immortal–

104

like us. In other words, we seek the kingdom of God that is nothing less than God–and

our own Self.

There is a seeking that is necessary, but a seeking for deepening consciousness

rather than for something that is not already ours. We must not fall into the facile

illusion that we have nothing to do or attain. Certainly there is nothing objective to be

done or attained, but in the subjective realm of Consciousness there is literally

Everything to be sought and attained. “Strive without ceasing to know the Atman, seek

this knowledge and comprehend clearly why you should seek it: such, it is said, are the

roots of true wisdom.” (Bhagavad Gita 13:11)

To Know The Self

Defining the Self

Recently I read of a yogi who was asked, “What is the Self?” The yogi answered:

“The one who knows the mind.” How simple! And the answer to the query, “Who/

What is God?” is equally simple: The one who enables the Self to know the mind and

Who knows the Self as its Self.

“He through whom man sees, tastes, smells, hears, feels, and enjoys, is the

omniscient Lord.” (Katha Upanishad 2:1:3a) All the doors of perception function

through the Divine Presence, not just the Divine Power. Our consciousness is the

Consciousness of God, the finite drawn from the Infinite, as the wave draws its

existence from the ocean. It is a grave error to decry the experience of our senses as

either illusory or somehow degrading. It is our response to sensory experience that is

often illusory or degrading. But we are at every moment living in and by God.

But God is not just the Power by which “we live, and move, and have our

being.” (Act 17:28) “He, verily, is the immortal Self. Knowing him, one knows all

things.” (Katha Upanishad 2:1:3b) He is the all-embracing Consciousness within our

consciousness and within all things. If we come to know–enter into the being of–that

Infinite One we shall know with His knowing, and therefore know all things. As Saint

Paul said: “Now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” (I

Corinthians 13:12) This is the inmost meaning of Saint John’s statement: “Beloved,

now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know

that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is.” (I John

3:2)

“He through whom man experiences the sleeping or waking states is the allpervading

Self. Knowing him, one grieves no more.” (Katha Upanishad 2:1:4) All states

of consciousness are directly rooted in the Self, individual and universal. When

through yoga this is truly known, all grief ceases, for the yogi identifies with his allperceiving

Self.

He transcends fear as well, for “He who knows that the individual soul, enjoyer of

the fruits of action, is the Self–ever present within, lord of time, past and future–casts

out all fear. For this Self is the immortal Self.” (Katha Upanishad 2:1:5) What an

incredible statement! We are thinking that we are poor, mortal beings swept along by

forces alien to us and totally beyond our control, when all the time we are the masters

of past and future. All our fear comes from our unawareness of this glorious fact. By

turning inward and discovering the truth of ourself we will pass beyond fear. The

message of the upanishads is inseparably bound up with the necessity for sadhana if it

is not to be no more than dead words on a dead page.

Seeing truly

“He who sees the First-Born—born of the mind of Brahma, born before the

creation of waters–and sees him inhabiting the lotus of the heart, living among

physical elements, sees Brahman indeed. For this First-Born is the immortal

Self.” (Katha Upanishad 2:1:6) The only way to “see true” is to see The True.

When we turn within, to the core of our being, there we will not only find the

individual self, the jiva or atman, but we will find its origin, the Supreme Self, the

Paramatman, the eternal Brahman. This is the true vision of God–that in which the two

are seen to be One, although their distinction is eternal. The word “born” is

misleading, for the Self is never born. There does come a time when it becomes

manifest in relative creation, but it existed before that “birth.” It is not even right to say

that God is our “origin,” for the Self is co-eternal with God. As Krishna told Arjuna:

“There was never a time when I did not exist, nor you, nor any of these kings. Nor is

there any future in which we shall cease to be.” (Bhagavad Gita 2:12)

The all-embracing Self

It is no news to us that God not only is within all things but in an ineffable way IS all

things. But there is a further fact: We, too, embrace all the levels of being on the finite

level, just as does God on the infinite level. So the upanishad further says: “That being

who is the power of all powers, and is born as such, who embodies himself in the

elements and in them exists, and who has entered the lotus of the heart, is the

immortal Self.” (Katha Upanishad 2:1:7) Again, this refers to both the finite and the

Infinite spirits.

Therefore we see that in the vision of the upanishadic sages we are not abstract

spirits with no connection whatever with the energies of prakriti. Rather, as with God,

those energies are our own expanded and “frozen” energies that in time are to be

revealed as consciousness and assimilated into our Self–from which they have never

really been separate. Everything is consciousness. In the final sense there is no matter

or energy at all. Yet, at the moment we find ourselves in the seemingly manifold

condition that is necessary for our evolution and ultimate freedom.

We not only mistake our own nature, we mistake the nature of God as well. We are

ourselves “the power of all powers,” having willingly embodied ourselves in subtle and

gross matter while still living essentially in “the lotus of the heart.” How then can we

consider ourselves the servants or slaves of any being–including God? There is no

“work of God” in this world for us to do–only our work, the ascension to perfect

freedom. There is a theism that is bondage and a theism that is freedom. We must

discriminate between the two.

The source

Because it fits better with the foregoing, let us skip a verse and read: “That in

which the sun rises and in which it sets, that which is the source of all the powers of

nature and of the senses, that which nothing can transcend–that is the immortal

Self.” (Katha Upanishad 2:1:9)

The Self and the Supreme Self are both the Chidakasha, the Sky or Ether of

Consciousness in which the sun of manifested life rises and sets. The waking,

dreaming, and deep sleep states take place within the consciousness that is the Self.

The experience of birth and death likewise take place within the Self.

The Self is, like the Supreme Self, the source of the energies that manifest as the

various levels of the subtle and gross bodies which we are presently evolving until they

manifest as the spirit-self. Nothing is ever destroyed, but is resolved back into its

origin, the spirit. This is the great and awesome assertion of the upanishads.

Nothing is beyond or higher than the Self–not even God, for God and the Self are

essentially one, as are the ocean and the waves. As long as we dream of separation, so

long will we continue to come and go, suffering the pain and fear of continual change.

But when we awaken into Unity, all sorrow and fear cease forever.

Om Tat Sat

                                                        

(Continued...) 

(My humble salutations H H Swami Nirmalananda Giri ji and   Hinduism online dot com for the collection)

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