Editorial: Mind Control for Spiritual Illumination
A circus actor who is undisciplined and flimsy about his training is unlikely to perform the precision acts that are required of him. A student inattentive to his studies will suffer dismal failure in examinations. Business persons fail largely through poor management practices. Likewise spiritual aspirants that are inattentive to the methods of self-mastery are unsuccessful in attaining spiritual illumination. In all matters of human endeavour, mundane or spiritual, it soon becomes evident that mind control is the key to success. The uncontrolled mind is the root cause of failure and misery. The controlled mind brings success and joy.
In the Bhagavad Gita, Arjuna uses four epithets to describe a chronically uncontrolled mind: restless, turbulent, powerful and unyielding. To these adverse qualities Arjuna significantly emphasizes that a mind burdened with such traits is as difficult as the wind to control. Arjuna is not alone in this battle for mind control nor is Lord Krishna's advice pessimistic in anyway. With comforting assurance the Lord tells Arjuna that these traits of the human mind that account for failure and unhappiness can be converted into means for success. Mental liabilities can be transformed into formidable assets that yield human fulfillment and peace. The Lord's discourse to Arjuna in the sixth chapter of the Bhagavad Gita is considered to be the gist of mental
transformation or what St. Paul called 'renewal of the mind.'
When Lord Krishna's advice in chapter six is read in its entirety one notices that self-effort is the first point of emphasis: "Let a man raise himself by his own self." In the Vedantic tradition spiritual aspirants are taught that self-effort is to be assiduously cultivated and practiced throughout the journey of mental transformation. But what is self-effort all about?
The Lord agrees with Arjuna (and indeed with all spiritual aspirants) that the mind is fickle and difficult to be checked. But it can be done. The unfailing method that Lord Krishna declares is twofold:
Regular spiritual practices (abhyasa)
Dispassion (vairagya)
Regular spiritual practices include the cultivation of noble character traits as well as prayer, devotion, meditation, selfless work, etc. All these practices are done to purify and turn the mind towards the supreme goal - the Self. Swami Vivekananda pointed out that "the purer the mind the easier it is to control. Purity of mind must be insisted upon if you would control it. " Purity strengthens practices and gives clarity of the Supreme Goal. Lord Krishna further elucidates his point of practice: "From whatever cause the restless and unsteady mind wanders away, from that let him restrain it and bring it back to be aligned to the Self."
Dispassion means non-attachment. Practice without dispassion only helps us to master the technique of mind control, but not to control the mind. If we are strongly attached to the pleasure of the senses while 'practicing' to free ourselves from them, we labour aimlessly and vainly, like the drunken men in Sri Ramakrishna's parable who row a boat the whole night without first loosening the rope that binds it to the shore. We may develop our muscles but we may not reach our destination. Dispassion implies an inner absence of infatuated desire or craving. It is not 'running away' from the world but voluntarily 'turning away' from worldly pleasures in order to experience that infinite joy of the Self.
All these practices purify the body, mind and intellect thus transforming the uncontrolled mind into a renewed state of consciousness that abides in the Self. When one becomes established in this state of consciousness one experiences an unabating state of bliss from which even the greatest sorrow cannot shake one. This is Spiritual Illumination.
The Healing Balm of the Paramahamsa - Swami Jagadananda
(The Lord incarnates Himself age after age for the good of humanity. He assumes a human form and fully participates in the joys and sorrows of this world so that the common man can relate to Him. In the following incident, the Master, Sri Ramakrishna, soothes the pain of a grieving parent who has just lost his son, by narrating to him how he himself had felt when he lost his nephew, Akshay.)
A promising son of Manimohan Mallick of Sinduriapati, Kolkata, died. No sooner had he performed the ceremonies connected with the cremation, than Manimohan came to the Master. Saluting the Master, he sat with a heavy heart in a corner of the room. He saw many inquiring devotees, seekers after truth, men and women, sitting in the room, and the Master was talking to them on various spiritual topics. He had sat for a short time when the Master's eyes happened to fall on him, and with a nod of his head, he asked him, "Well, why do you look so sad today?" In a choked voice, Manimohan answered, "So-and-so (naming his son) died today." Seeing his haggard appearance and hearing his choked voice, everyone in the room was dumbfounded and sat speechless. Everyone felt that any word of consolation could not assuage the deep pain and agony raging in his heart. Nevertheless they began to console him in words such as: "Such is the way of the world, everyone must die some day. Whatever has happened cannot be undone by shedding tears a thousand times. Therefore give up grief, have patience." From the beginning of creation we have been consoling men and women struck with grief in these words. But, alas, how few are the hearts that are thereby consoled! And how can they be? It is only when the three things viz., our minds, words, and actions are inspired by the same feeling, that our words can touch others' hearts and raise similar waves of feeling there. But with us this qualification is altogether wanting. We say, "The world is transitory," but every thought and action of ours is contrary to this idea. Though we advise others to consider this world to be transitory like a dream, we always regard it in our heart of hearts as eternal and make arrangements for living here for ever. How can our words acquire that power to carry conviction?
Although all the others poured forth the hackneyed phrases of consolation to Manimohan, the Master was all the time merely listening to his words of grief without speaking anything whatever. When they saw that indifferent mood of his, some were surprised and thought how hard, how devoid of compassion, his heart was. As he was listening to the words of the old man, the Master gradually passed into ecstasy - a state of divine semi-consciousness. Suddenly with the stance and energy of a wrestler, he struck his left arm just below the shoulder with the palm of his right hand, stood up and began singing with an unprecedented vigour:
O man, prepare yourself for battle,
There, see Death entering your house in battle array;
(Therefore) ride on the chariot of great virtue,
Harness to it the two horses of devotion and spiritual practice,
Stretch the bow of knowledge,
And set the unfailing arrow of the love of God
Listen, there is another plan of good strategy;
All the enemies can be killed without a chariot or a charioteer,
If Dasarathi* takes the field on the bank of the Bhagirathi.
(* - Composer of the song)
The tune of the song, expressing great vigour and the appropriate gesture coupled with the spirit of heroic renunciation and strength coursing from the Master's eyes, produced in the hearts of all a current of wonderful hope and energy. The heart of every one was raised from the realm of grief and delusion, and filled with a wonderful divine bliss which was beyond the senses and beyond the world. Manimohan too felt it in his heart, forgot the agonizing grief, and was now calm, grave and in perfect peace. The song came to an end; but the few words constituting it, sung in the manner described above ,generated waves of spirituality which filled the room for a long time and were palpably felt like a presence by all. All were still, being lost entirely in that spiritual mood, which seemed to declare: "It is God alone who is our own; we have to offer our heart and life to Him. May He bestow His compassion on us and reveal Himself to us!" When the Master's ecstasy came to an end a little later, he sat by the side of Manimohan and said, "Ah! What burning pain is there on earth which can compare with the grief at the death of a son? A son is born of this sheath (body); isn't he? So his relation with the body persists as long as it lasts." Saying so, the Master began to describe to him so touchingly about the death of Akshay as an example, that it seemed as if he was visualizing before his eyes the death of his relative. He said, "Akshay died. I felt nothing at the time. I was standing and was witnessing how man dies. I saw there was, as it were, a sword in a sheath, and the sword was being drawn out of it. The sword was not at all affected. It remained as it was, and the sheath lay there. I felt great joy to see it. I laughed and sang and danced. They then burnt the body and returned. The next day I was standing there (pointing to the verandah to the east of the room, near the courtyard of the Kali temple), and do you know what I felt? I felt as if my heart was being wrung in the way a wet towel is wrung. My heart was feeling for Akshay like that. I thought, 'Mother, this (his body) has no relation with (i.e. cannot retain) even the cloth it wears; what attachment can this (himself) have for a nephew! Still how bitterly I feel his demise! When it is so even here (with himself), how agonizing the pain must be to the householders! Thou art showing that, aren't you?"
Sri Ramakrishna
"But do you know?" continued the Master, a little later, "those who take refuge in Him do not sink to the bottom even on account of this unbearable grief. They regain their balance after a few tossings. Persons of small capacity, like small vessels, lose their control, their balance, altogether and go down. Haven't you noticed the plight of the small fishing boats when steamers pass through the Ganga? It looks as if they are lost and are gone. Some are capsized altogether. The bigger vessels, carrying tons of load, regain their balance after a few tossings. But a toss or two must be felt by all."
After a short pause of serious gloom, the Master added again, "How few are the days during which the relationship among all these (sons, parents, etc.) in this world lasts! Desiring happiness a man enters the world; he marries; begets a son; the son grows; he gets his son married; thus a few days pass pleasantly. Then one gets ill, another dies, still another goes astray, and the man is beside himself with worries and anxieties. The more the frustration, the louder the lamentation! Haven't you noticed how the wet fuel burns in a sweetmaker's oven? It burns well at first. Then as it is burning, the sap begins to ooze out through its hinder part and assumes the form of froth which bubbles and bursts and produces various kinds of hissing sounds. It is just like that."
He was thus consoling Manimohan by speaking to him on a variety of topics such as "the transitoriness and hollowness of the world", "taking refuge in the divine Lord, the only source of happiness" and so on. Manimohan felt consoled and said, "This was why, Sir, I came running to you. I knew that there was no one else who could assuage this fire of my grief."
We were amazed at this extraordinary behaviour of the Master and thought, "Is this the person whom we considered a short time ago to be hard-hearted and indifferent? One who is really great is not like the common run of people even in small matters. His greatness is discernible in every action, great or small. Is this the same person whose heart-beat stopped a little while ago as he was experiencing ecstasy or the nearness of God? Is he the same person, who, in sympathy with Manimohan's condition, is behaving like an ordinary man?
He could have altogether dismissed the words of the old man, saying, "It is all a mere delusion, a trifling matter"; it is not that he could not have done so. Had he displayed his greatness that way, we would have felt that he might be a great spiritual teacher or anything else, but that he was certainly not of this world; we would have felt that he had not the power to enter into the feelings of ordinary mortals and would have said, "We wonder how he could have remained indifferent to the play of Maya if he had fallen but once into the helpless condition into which we, weak human beings, have fallen owing to our attachment to our wives and children !"
(Reprinted from: "Sri Ramakrishna The Great Master", by Swami Jagadananda; Sri Ramakrishna Math, Chennai, 1978)
(Nihal Singh, world-famous journalist and doyen of Indian journalism, recalls from the depths of the remote past, the vivid image made on his mind by meeting and receiving the blessings of the Holy Mother, Sri Sarada Devi.)
I
Suryadeva [the Sun God] was being rapidly driven, in his seven-steeded celestial chariot, towards the line over which Akasha (sky) lovingly bends over Dharitri Mata (Mother Earth) before bidding her a final farewell for that day. By the time I, at the fag-end of a tiring tour, could climb to the crest of the holy hill, open the tripod, set upon it my large camera, and screw the right lens with the appropriate filter into it, the light had all but failed. The islets, applying a vivid emerald touch to the Brahmaputra's majestic breast, moved me to make a supreme effort. Convinced in my mind that I had given a long enough exposure, I went away happy in the belief that I had been successful in taking back with me at least a passable impression. When the film was developed days later, some hundreds of miles away from that exquisite scene, I realized that I had been cherishing a delusion. The image was too faint to be of much use. Being by nature an optimist, I pinned my hope to after-treatment of the negative.
I would reinforce the silver in the negative with another metal. This would strengthen it. Which metal? I pondered that question. More silver nitrate? Chromium? Copper? Lead? Something could be said for each: also something against it. Finally the choice was made. The gods smiled upon it. The image had been greatly strengthened by the time the negative came out of the last bath. When dried it would yield a print worth all the trouble that had been taken.
II
The image that I carry in my memory of the Holy Mother is something of this kind. I was only a child when I first set eyes upon that venerable face and figure. My parents, who carried me to her in the late eighteen-eighties or the early eighteen-nineties, kept, however, suggesting to me: 'Surely you remember the beatific expression on her features. She was mother-love in motion. Why, she actually patted you -gave you her blessing!'
[My] Mother, in particular, set great store by that blessing. She had had the misfortune of losing her first-born - a man-child of great promise. She persuaded father to proceed upon a pilgrimage to the holy places all over the north. When they reached Kolkata they visited the Kali temple. Someone told them of Dakshineshwar. There they went and had the good fortune of having darshan of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa. 'I have never met anyone so God-intoxicated as he was', Father would say whenever something happened that reminded him of the sage. My parents had a glimpse of the Holy Mother, too. This was, they would tell me, by the merest chance. They deemed it a very great privilege, for they had heard much of the beautiful relationship that existed between the two noble beings - they led a perfectly immaculate life. Time and again, as I was growing up, I was reminded that the Paramahamsa had renounced the world. Yet he never went to the woods. He remained in the temple built alongside Ganga Mai, only a few miles from the first city in the country. He did not forbid his wife to come to him. She cooked and cared for him as any wife would for her husband. To her he was Guru. To him she was the veritable representation of the Goddess.
'Was ever greater control exercised over the senses (Indriyas)?' Father would ask. 'Were there, anywhere, in any age, such Jatis (renunciants) as they were?'
III
So, the very first time after my birth (which my mother attributed largely to the benign influence of the Holy Mother, whose blessing she had sought), my parents took me to Dakshineshwar. The Paramahamsa had, in the meantime, shuffled off his mortal coil. They enquired about the Holy Mother. They were told that she was not always to be found in Kolkata. 'She is often away performing tapasya', they were informed. Mother, exceedingly practical, asked them: 'But is she here now?' 'Yes, she is', they replied. 'Then take us to her', she insisted.
The Holy Mother was finally located. A doll's house it was in which she was living (patolian da ghar)1: but how redolent was it of sanctity - shining with the light from her large, lustrous eyes-'eyes black as kol (lotus seed)', Mother would recall. She would always end by insisting: 'Surely you must remember her. A short, plump body - one bare arm showing and her long, black tresses falling in front of her in her lap - her lips parted a little in the sweetest smile imaginable, as if in benediction'.
Father would, on occasion, add: 'She never bore a child, yet any number of men - among them the illustrious Vivekananda - called her mother and what is more, loved her as mother'.
The Swamis of the Ramakrishna Mission who met me from time to time helped me to reinforce - and to vivify - the image of the Holy Mother that had been formed through my child-eyes. I should no doubt have been infinitely richer had I been vouchsafed the privilege of spending a minute - an hour - a day - or a week in her immediate neighbourhood and been the recipient of that mother-love of which she was the embodiment and the vehicle. As it is, the effect of the pat she once gave me has lasted through nearly seven decades.
(Reprinted from: "Prabuddha Bharata", March 1954)
(1. In Punjabi, meaning 'the house of dolls')
Non-attachment The Secret of Happiness - Swami Vivekananda
This world is like a dog's curly tail, and people have been striving to straighten it out for hundreds of years; but when they let it go, it has curled up again. How could it be otherwise? One must first know how to work without attachment, then one will not be a fanatic. When we know that this world is like a dog's curly tail and will never get straightened, we shall not become fanatics. We think that whatever we do or possess is the best in the world, and what we do not do or possess is of no value. So, always remember the instance of the curly tail of the dog whenever you have a tendency to become a fanatic. You need not worry or make yourself sleepless about the world; it will go on without you. When you have avoided fanaticism, then alone will you work well. It is the level headed man, the calm man, of good judgment and cool nerves, of great sympathy and love, who does good work and so does good to himself. The fanatic is foolish and has no sympathy; he can never straighten the world, nor himself become pure and perfect.
Then again, there are people who are foolish in another way: they teach us that all these animals were created for us to kill and eat, and that this universe is for the enjoyment of men. That is all foolishness. A tiger may say, "Man was created for me," and pray, "O Lord, how wicked are these men who do not come and place themselves before me to be eaten; they are breaking Your law." If the world is created for us, we are also created for the world. That this world is created for our enjoyment is the most wicked idea that holds us down. This world is not for our sake. Millions pass out of it every year; the world does not feel it; millions of others are supplied in their place. Just as much as the world is for us, so we also are for the world.
To work properly, therefore, you have first to give up the idea of attachment. Secondly, do not mix in the fray, hold yourself as a witness and go on working. My Master used to say, "Look upon your children as a nurse does." The nurse will take your baby and fondle it and play with it and behave towards it as gently as if it were her own child; but as soon as you give her notice to quit, she is ready to start off bag and baggage from the house. Everything in the shape of attachment is forgotten; it will not give the ordinary nurse the least pang to leave your children and take up other children. Even so are you to be with all that you consider your own. You are the nurse, and if you believe in God, believe that all these things which you consider yours are really His. It is a weakness to think that anyone is dependent on me, and that I can do good to another. This belief is the mother of all our attachment, and through this attachment comes all our pain. We must inform our minds that no one in this universe depends upon us; not one beggar depends on our charity; not one soul on our kindness; not one living thing on our help. All are helped on by nature, and will be so helped even though millions of us were not here. The course of nature will not stop for such as you and me; it is, as already pointed out, only a blessed privilege to you and to me that we are allowed, in the way of helping others, to educate ourselves. This is a great lesson to learn in life.
President's Page: The Nine Forms of Devotion - Swami Vimokshananda
(Sri Ramakrishna declares that in this age the practice of Bhakti or devotion is the easiest path that leads to God-realisation. In the Tulsi Ramayana Lord Rama expounds nine forms of devotion to Shabari. In this article Swami Vimokshananda highlights these aspects of devotion and relates them to the teachings of Sri Ramakrishna.)
To the devoted readers of the epic Ramayana, the very mention of the name of the illiterate tribal women 'Shabari' evokes a deep sense of piety and adoration.
Shabari used to stay as a disciple in the ashrama of the Rishi Matanga. The virtuous sage performed hard austerities in order to realise God. Before his death, Sage Matanga called Shabari and told her that she ought to stay on in the ashrama until she was visited by the divine incarnation, Sri Rama.
Accepting her Gurus's wishes, Shabari would make daily preparations for the Lord's arrival. Everyday, she would collect the best fruits, nuts and honey in the ashrama, wash them, arrange them and patiently wait near the entrance of the hermitage for the Lord.
Like this, many years went by and Shabari became an old lady. Yet her faith in her Guru's words and her devotion to the Lord carried her through these many years.
Then, one fine morning, the most compassionate Lord descended upon the ashrama. Sri Rama, along with his brother Lakshmana, looked most charming - the emerald blue Lord and his fair complexioned brother. Upon seeing the Lord with lotus-like eyes, long arms, a tuft of matted hair adorning his head like a crown and a garland of wild flowers hanging upon his breast, Shabari's joy knew no bounds and she fell prostrate at his holy feet.
The devout Mother Shabari feeding Sri Rama with her own hands.
After regaining her composure, she took Sri Rama and Lakshmana into the hermitage and seated them. Then she brought all of the delicious, freshly picked fruits, nuts and honey and began to feed the Lord.
After this, she lovingly joined her palms and stood before him and pleaded that she was the lowest in descent and dullest of wit, and that she was unfit to extol the Lord incarnate.
Sri Rama said to her, after accepting her hospitality, "Listen O good lady to My words. I recognise no other kingship except that of devotion." He further said that a person devoid of devotion was of no more worth than a cloud without water.
Sri Rama then narrated to Shabari the nine forms of devotion. These are indeed nine steps that would lead one to God and make a person dearest to Him.
We shall now see how Sri Ramakrishna, through the following teachings, explains each of these nine steps in his own inimitable way.
Keep holy company:
"If a man sees a lawyer, he naturally thinks of lawsuits and courts. Similarly, on seeing a pious devotee, one is reminded of God and of the life hereafter."
Delight in My Name:
"... pray with a yearning heart that He may teach you to relish His 'name'. Undoubtedly He will grant your prayer... So I say, 'Find joy in His name'. Durga, Krishna, Siva - any name will do. And if you daily feel a greater joy in it, you need fear no more."
Service to the Guru:
"He who considers his Guru to be merely human, what good can he derive from his prayers and devotions? We should not consider our Guru to be a mere man. Before the disciple sees the Deity, he sees the Guru in the first vision of Divine Illumination. And it is the Guru who afterwards shows the Deity, before himself mysteriously transformed into the form of the Deity. Then the disciple sees the Guru and the Deity as one and the same."
Singing of the Lord's glories:
"Sing with Bhakti (devotion) the hallowed 'name' of the Lord, and the mountain of your sins will vanish, just as a mountain of cotton will burn to ashes and disappear if but a spark of fire falls on it."
Repetition of the Lord's name:
"Chant the name of God morning and evening, clapping your hands all the while; all your sins and afflictions will then leave you. If you clap your hands standing under a tree, the birds perching on it will fly away. So if you chant the name of God clapping your hands at the same time, the birds of evil thoughts will fly away from the tree of your body."
Practice of self-control:
"Those who wish to attain God or make progress in their devotional practices should particularly guard themselves against the snares of lust and wealth. Otherwise they will never attain perfection."
Seeing God everywhere:
"The Ganges of Knowledge, flowing in the heart of a Jnani, runs only in one direction. To him the whole universe is a dream. He always lives in his own Self. But the Ganges of Love in a devotee's heart does not always run in the same direction; it has its ebb and flow. The devotee laughs, weeps, dances and sings. He loves to live in and enjoy God's presence; in that ocean of bliss he loves to cast himself, sometimes swimming, sometimes sinking, and again floating, as a block of ice dances in water, tossing up and down."
Contentment and not finding fault:
"There is necessity of money, no doubt, in worldly life; but do not ponder much over it and other material gains. Contentment with what comes of its own accord is the best attitude. Do not be anxious to hoard. Those who dedicate their very life and soul to Him, those who are His devotees and have taken refuge in Him, can never think of such worldly matters. With them, expenditure is commensurate with income. As money comes into their hands on one way, it is spent in another."
Simplicity and faith in the Lord:
"A landlord may be very rich, but when a poor tenant brings a humble present to him with a loving heart, he accepts it with the greatest pleasure. So the Almighty Lord, though so great and powerful, accepts the humble offerings of a sincere heart with the greatest pleasure and satisfaction."
To the Ramakrishna
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