Regaining Innocence
Mind has rightly been compared to an energetic and fickle monkey. It jumps from branch to branch, throws objects here and there and is constantly on the move. It is also compared to a mad elephant which runs about aimlessly everywhere. Unfortunately it is our only tool, or may be, the only precious instrument either to understand the world outside, or to look inwards. It is said – mana eva manuShyANAM kAraNaM bandhamokShayoH – which means that mind is the only cause either for bondage or for freedom. Looking outwards leads to bondage and looking inwards leads to liberation or freedom.
This we have heard enough. But how are we to look inwards? Sages and shastra-s have told that the five senses we have are all outward bound. The kaThopaniShad is rather angry with the creator – the creator has condemned them to look outwards. parA~nchi KhAni vyatRRiNat swayambhUH – it says. The word ‘vyatRRiNat = hiMsitavAn’ as Shankara explains, shows frustration and anger that the creator has made them so. It takes a mighty effort to turn them inwards and only a heroic person can do it, says the same upaniShad – kashchit dhIraH – ‘some hero’ alone can do so. Some scholars have explained the word dhIraH as dhiyaM = buddhivRRittim, rAti = gRRiNhAti, sAKshitwena pashyati iti dhiIraH. It means that he who can witness his mental cognitions as an outsider is the really heroic person. Cognitions come and go, but he remains as the pure consciousness principle witnessing all cognitions. But this is the final stage of realization.
It requires lot many years to do body-building, taking loving care of every muscle and it also requires further care to keep it so. Mind is similar, it requires a long time to practice the exercises prescribed for this – shama (control of senses internally), dama (control on the body), titikShA (enduring the dualities with a feeling of equanimity) and so on. But yet, the mind is mercurial, slippery and fickle.
I have several times tried the well known techniques of mediation – they are all theoretically clear, but in practice something slips underneath my feet, as though. I start trying to meditate on the meaning of a mantra, but the mind escapes. Our sages have given some techniques like rotating of a string of beads held in the hand, keeping the eyes closed, looking on the tip of the nose etc., but somehow all these muscles will be doing their job but the mind wanders. Kabirdas, the famous saint described this in a Hindi couplet saying – the string rolls in the hand, the tongue rolls in the mouth but the mind rolls all around.
Long ago I noticed an interesting thing in a martial arts movie. The teacher tells the student that as and when the opponent’s punch comes the hand should automatically block, without thinking, with what is ‘muscle memory’. Constant practice develops this. But in my case the muscle memory is acting adversely. The mind has taught enough drill to the tongue that it keeps rolling, reciting the mantra with all the expected intonations. It is not merely the tongue but also the fingers, wrists, and other limbs which do their job perfectly as I do various mudra-s as part of the upAsana, like in my daily ritual of sandhyopAsanA. The tongue is inviting the deity, but its master the mind, is absent. It is as though you have an honoured guest at home, but you don’t bother to speak to him but your servants are ushering him in and treating him. But their master, that is, the mind has gone for an outing. It is as though the mind and the limbs are fellow thieves.
Shankara gives an example of how meditation should be. He says – ‘tailadhArAvat tulya pratyayasantatiH’ (taittirIya upaniShad, 1-3) which means that the stream of thoughts should be uninterrupted like the narrow string of oil poured slowly from a beaker and it should be unmixed by dissimilar thoughts. Such meditation can be on a god-form or on an idea or the meaning of a mantra. Upanishads call this upAsanA or upAsanaM. Anandagiri, who wrote further notes on the above, has explained that meditations for material gains would yield material results and meditations done in a self-less fashion would lead to mental purity and prepare the seeker for the knowledge of Brahman.
The chAndogya upaniShad tells about many kinds of upAsanA-s. One way is to meditate on a god form either seeking material boons or in a self-less manner. This is on the first plane. In the second plane there are meditations associated with a vedic ritual, to enhance the result of the ritual. This also can be for material gain, or done at a self-less level. At a time when the ritualism was dominant, introduction of meditation was perhaps a breeze of fresh air which slowly changed a ritualist into a thinker.
The third variety described is the ahaMgrahopAsanA, which is, meditating on a divine form as not different from oneself. This is supposed to take the worshipper to the level of the divine entity, which would ultimately help him in brahmavidyA, i.e. self knowledge.
All the above are on what we call a saguNa form of reality, that is, a god or a goddess or some natural force which would give me the purity of mind to know Brahman. Initially it starts on a psycho-physical plane of sitting quietly in a place, senses withdrawn, (as a tortoise, says Krishna in the Gita), and slowly moves on or graduates to the spiritual plane of uninterrupted thinking on Self. There is an element of attribution of greatness on an ordinary object – like in having the feeling of god in a stone idol or contemplating on the sun as Brahman.
The Upanishads warn us that meditating with a feeling of duality, thinking that one is a finite entity worshipping another finite entity will lead only to servitude to gods – in fact, gods would love to keep us as servants, says the Upanishad, just to warn us like parents in olden days warned a child by taking the name of a ghost. In other words, we are asked to be more intelligent in establishing an equation with god.
Viveka i.e. discrimination is a word commonly used in Vedanta. It means distinguishing between what is real and what is unreal, what is permanent and what is impermanent and thus evaluating things. It finally results in removing what is useless and keeping what is useful, removing the chaff from the grain. This is an exercise to know the serpent and the rope, and that for driving away the serpent what I need is not a stick but a torch light.
In self enquiry I am supposed to contemplate that I am the Brahman. How can I straightaway equate myself with the Ultimate without going through any spiritual discipline? Self-enquiry is not mere logic but also a self transformation arising from handling and thinning down my own passions. It is like rediscovering innocence and staying like the child sages who appear in bhAgavataM – Sanaka, Sanandana, and the other two and becoming children again. In fact the Upanishad says – pANDityam nirvidya bAlyena tiShThaset – stay as a child after understanding all that the Vedas can give. Education has to lead me to innocence.
Here I recall the line from the English poet WB Yeats – ‘the ceremony of innocence is drowned’. We have a huge list of saints (and may be a host of unknown, unsung persons) who exemplify this innocence, which has to be regained by discarding all the non-self by saying ‘neti’, ‘neti’ .This innocence cannot be an affectation, it has to naturally descend on me if I am a genuine seeker. I will not be able to proclaim about it, the others should feel it. It would be like the king’s new clothes if I say that I am enlightened, only others should know it from my conduct. This may not be a miraculous moment but a slow process.
