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The Ineffable Nature of the Cakras and the Guru's Grace

The nature of cakras and spiritual reality is ineffable, beyond full description by words. The Guru is the principle that leads from darkness to light, a salvation for the soul from rebirth and suffering. This transcends a mere teacher-student relationship. The cakras are energy centers, yet their exact nature and location are difficult to define. Feelings arise from how experiences are accepted and manifest within the body. Reality is an illusion, a net in which all beings are caught. This illusion, Maya, is like a mirage—perceived but ultimately not real. Attachment, or Moha, binds the soul like a strong rope. The mind creates all states of experience and consciousness. Purification requires addressing three impurities: Mala (dirt), Vikshepa (disturbances), and Avarana (the curtain that obscures). True wisdom awakens one to one's real nature, beyond the veils of misconception.

"Gu means darkness and Ru means light. The Guru is that consciousness, that principle, that person who leads us from darkness into light."

"Mo Māyā Kā Jāla Prabhu Nirachāyā. He who has tied the knot of karmas to this net. All individuals, all fish are in this net, they cannot get out."

Part 1: The Ineffable Nature of the Cakras and the Guru's Grace Today, we begin again with the topic of the cakras, specifically the Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra. We have spoken much about it before, yet I wish to delve even deeper. For many, it is profoundly difficult to conceive of what a cakra truly is—how it functions and what it does. A cakra is exceedingly difficult to describe with words. It is akin to a person who cannot speak tasting sugar or an apple; they know the taste intimately, yet cannot explain it. So it is with our deepest personal feelings, which often defy verbal expression. There is a beautiful poem about the Guru. 'Gu' means darkness and 'Ru' means light. The Guru is that consciousness, that principle (tattva), that person who leads us from darkness into light. The light we realize is indescribable. There are no words adequate to express our gratitude. It is like someone saving us from death. If a person who cannot swim falls into water, a savior comes and rescues them. The rescued person can say "thank you," but that single word cannot convey everything. The heart's inner feeling, the consciousness of that person, is millions of times stronger and more grateful than the mere utterance. Thus, the Master is the Saviour of our soul, our Ātman. He saves it from eternal suffering, pain, darkness—namely, rebirth and death. Those who cannot fully understand this may see the Guru merely as a teacher, like a school teacher, a sports coach, or a riding instructor—a good, kind, and likable person with whom we have a pleasant relationship. But this view is incomplete. What is missing is the praise, the price, for the element that stands between student and teacher. That is the most important thing: the result and God. It is the intermediate connection, that invisible wisdom and invisible love which flows between them. This kind of love, this devotion (bhakti) or gratitude, is nearly impossible to describe. There is a poem: You could use the entire Earth as paper, all the forests as pens or quills, and all seven great oceans of the world as ink. Still, oh Lord, it would be too little to write what I have received or what it means to me. I try to write with compassion, I try to write with a pen, but the ocean of truth is vast, and I cannot fully describe the glory of my Gurū Mahāprabhujī. He is the one who has understood himself, who has realized these tattvas. For others, it is only about a personal relationship—as a friend, or as someone who influences you to become good or bad, gentle or tough. For such persons, it is indeed difficult to realize the ultimate truth, the ultimate reality. So it is also with the topic of cakras. We all know the word means 'energy center,' and many books write many different things. It is valuable to ask: Do these cakras truly reside along the spine? If so, then they depend on our physical body, and on a specific part of it. In reality, feelings arise—not from the lower part of the body or the torso, nor from the brain, nor from thought, nor from experiences, nor from objects. They arise from how you accept them. Just like that, feelings develop within you. When you see a cross, you experience a feeling—devotion, meaning, a symbol, a love for God, for Jesus as the holy cross. When one sees a terrible symbol, like a devil's pitchfork, it awakens feelings of negative things. These feelings then go into certain parts of our body, manifest and store themselves there. In this science of the cakras, it is easier when someone has whispered this word into our ears. Now it is difficult for us. It is said that God created the world, but in reality, He created a network, a complex network for living beings. Now all living beings are caught in this network like fish in a net. There is will, but nothing can be done. Everyone wants it, but we cannot do it; we cannot manage anything. Illusion (Māyā) is like water, the Lord is like a boat; attachment (Moha) binds the soul like a rope. Illusion is attachment, clinging. This is a very important point. We know that attachment leads us to sorrow, yet it remains pleasant. If one has eczema, we know scratching makes it worse and can cause infection. Yet, even in sleep, the hand automatically goes there and scratches deeply because the itching is very pleasant. The foolish mind cannot comprehend that these pleasant feelings can also be dangerous. Thus is Moha. Moha is a strong attachment, a strong rope that has bound us tightly, extending outward. And Māyā is again this illusion. We live in a world of deception. Here, illusion means it exists, but it is nothing. And there we can comprehend nothing. We say, "It is." But the one who is beyond these things says, "It is nothing." That is our difficulty, our problem. I say it is nothing, and you say it is. For example, when driving a car on a dry road in bright daylight, you may see a water spot a few hundred meters ahead. The road seems full of water. It is nothing, yet it is, because we see it very clearly and distinctly. We come closer and closer, and it goes on and on. What do you say? A mirage (Fata Morgana) is like the horizon. Someone asked, what is a horizon? The horizon is such that the closer you get, the further away it moves. You can never reach a horizon. This mirage is like that too; you come closer, and it goes on and on. In Austria, there is very little chance to experience this, but one must go to the Sahara. You sometimes see it in the summer in Hungary at the Pusta. I know it well because in Rajasthan we have many deserts. When it is very hot after rain, many animals die of thirst. A deer sees what looks like a lake. It is so thirsty that it runs and runs to drink, crying out, but it does not reach it; there is no water. It can run no more, yet it rises again and runs until its last strength is gone and it dies. Therefore, this phenomenon, in our Sanskrit language, in Hindi, is called Mṛgatṛṣṇā. Mṛga means a deer, Tṛṣṇā is a desire, a longing that runs and runs and runs, but does not find. So this is Māyā. In reality, our body is Māyā. It does not truly exist. This body does not exist. But unfortunately, my fixed standpoint and your fixed standpoint say that this is wrong. We exist, we are sitting here. And the other says, "No, you are not sitting there; that is only an illusion." One day, someone will be right. Who? Not we, but the other. A person lives here, lives with us, speaks, does everything. Then it is over. It is like that mirage, unattainable. It is gone. Nothing there at all. If there is absolutely nothing there, that means there was nothing. And when it was, there was only disappointment. Accepting this is difficult for today's civilization, and it was the same back then. This is an eternal struggle between a sage who sees reality and not unreality—who knows the difference between reality and unreality—and us. There we got stuck. One side, our pride, our intellect, does not accept it. Our intellect does not accept it. That is the reason why, from time to time, spirituality diminishes. Because seeing reality requires a lot of strength; it demands great discipline. Getting lost costs nothing; you can get lost more easily. So it is when we engage with the cakras, with this power. It is indeed difficult to describe whether it exists and where it is. That is why many people cannot realize it. One may reach a point called Kuṇḍalinī. When the Kuṇḍalinī rises, energy moves upward or downward. Power is considered, but you can no longer control it. These are things that cannot be verified; they are unprovable. It can be an illness, it can be psychological disorders, it can be many things. That can be resolved with one explanation: you meditated incorrectly, or, of course, suddenly your Kuṇḍalinī has awakened, a certain cakra has opened. For me, this is often just a consolation. This comfort is like a little child crying for its mother. Someone says, "Look through the window, there you come, Mama, do you see?" And the child says, "Yes, there, I see you, you peek around the corner, there you come, do you see?" And the child believes, "Yes, Mama, come," but in reality, nothing comes. It is only a consolation, a reassurance. So Kuṇḍalinī is a wisdom. This wisdom is an experience of reality. Thus, it is difficult to prove exactly which cakra is located where. But these feelings have been distributed according to the qualities of certain cakras. They have been mapped to different organs or parts of the body. One cannot simply say, "Now I will focus on the Svādhiṣṭhāna-cakra." They say the Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra is located where the spine ends, somewhat above the last vertebra. This center is associated with our passion. Why? Because this center is below. But it is said passion can awaken nothing. Amitābha, Amitābha... When you see God, you rejoice in your heart. When you see someone you do not like at all, and it feels like a burden, you torment yourself inwardly. But if someone loses consciousness or memory due to an accident, then it does not matter who comes. He just sits there, looking blank. Sometimes a cow can recognize the farmer who tends to it every day. But this person who has lost their memory finds the whole world empty. It is like a shadow image; there are no images there at all. It is just a canvas; nothing else exists. This can happen. Then this person will seem as if no cakra is active anywhere. That means they are automatically bound somewhere. So everything we hear, see, read, realize, and describe is a manifestation of your mind. I often use these two words: mind and state. The state of the body, the state of the mind, the state of consciousness, the state at home, in families, at the workplace—the entire atmosphere you create has been created through your mind. This mind has manifested over several lifetimes. Once it was a king, once a beggar, once Indra, Brahmā, and once a little mosquito. It has persevered, continuously moving forward. Thus, the state has been created by the intellect. But if the state goes too far, then the human mind cannot endure it, cannot master anything. When the state runs on like wild horses and the mind remains as a rider with no reins, it cannot catch the horses. So the rider stands there with empty hands. When the state is no longer controlled by the mind, it becomes a dangerous situation. Such cakras each have a specific aspect, a particular connection with our daily life and our daily experiences. Every day, we are confronted with things that make a great impression on our mind. This mind further guides us into our consciousness—unconsciousness or subconsciousness, consciousness or highest consciousness, or cosmic consciousness. The nature of the knowledge of the cakras cannot be fully described or realized with brief writing. We can write so much, but when reality comes, then it is difficult. So we have reached this stage where for us there is a question: it is, or it is not. All of humanity suffers from this. All living beings suffer from it, but humans are particularly affected. Because if I say, "Swāmījī is not here," then everyone will say, "He is lying. He sits there, he is there." Part 2: The Paradox of Knowing and the Net of Illusion But the one who knows the Transcendental Reality says, "He is not there." And so, you are sitting here as well, but you are not present. This cannot be comprehended. That is a difficult point. As long as we cannot comprehend this, we will not be able to understand any of it. One aspect, thank God perhaps, is that we cannot comprehend anything. Because when we understand this, then something else happens. Other serious things can happen. One gives up on everything. One gives up, then one says, "Why should I eat? Why do I drink? Do I not want to drink? Why do I sleep? Why do I work?" And so on. This means one is ready to give their life. And that would then be wrong again; that would be schizophrenia. That would be a state of diffusion, explained as illness. So, one must consciously hold life and this body as a tool, to use it as a tool, and not to feel that "I am a tool." No. Your body is a tool for you. You are not a tool. Because without this body, we cannot experience this reality. If there is no person, then there is no horizon either. Or there are no Vāta organs. It is you who pulls. And so, it is difficult for us to say with one hundred percent certainty, "Yes, now I have cleansed my Svādhiṣṭhāna-cakra, now I have awakened my Svādhiṣṭhāna-cakra, now I know exactly where my Svādhiṣṭhāna-cakra is, what it looks like, and what I can do with it." These are very beautiful words and very beautiful things, but in reality, it is something entirely different. And so I would like to tell you about the Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra, but I did not want to disappoint you again, because on one hand it is, and on the other hand it is not. And now we stand between two chairs—what shall we do? No, it is there and yet nothing is there. So, what is there and what is not there, we should find out for ourselves. And then one becomes a master. The master is one who has everything under control, whom he has mastered. A driver is the master of a car, which he can control. And so the Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra appears. I have already spoken about the significance of the Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra in a previous lecture, and I hope everyone was present for that talk. "Sva" means self, Svayam, Svāmī, self. "Sthāna" means place. And so I can also see: there is Pakistan, Afghanistan, and many, many -stans, Registan. And also Russia was the Ṛṣi Land, the land of the Ṛṣis, they discovered. The word Russia comes from Ṛṣis. And back then, during the times of the Rāmāyaṇa, Mahābhārata, and Rāmāyaṇa, in this region, as mentioned in the Mahābhārata, all the Ṛṣis lived here. Svasthāna, Svādhiṣṭhāna—our own place, where we now exist, where we are. We are now in this situation, we are now in this state, we have remained here now. And that is the black star. And the black star is the center where everything now begins to contemplate. The black star, the Mūlādhāra, is more or less the frozen one. It is like a block of ice. And when the ice begins to melt, it becomes flexible, it moves, it flows. And so, our existence here means that now we are immersed in feelings. It flows into feelings. And these are the karmas, the impressions that exist on our level of consciousness. Or it is like a disk, a disk of a computer, where everything is stored. With the press of a button, you can trigger everything. Or now we know through this technique, we can keep everything inside for a long, long time, as long as this disc exists. And so it is, whether we try to find a button to dissolve all our karmas, but it is difficult. That is Karma. Therefore, "Mo Māyā Kā Jāla Prabhu Nirachāyā." "Jāla" means net. "Mo Māyā," I have already explained. "Jāla" is a net. And net means that one cannot escape anything. For example, a poem, a very good poem, is used in India, about a spider. A spider that weaves a nest from its own saliva and then gets stuck inside it. And whether she wants to or not, she cannot do anything about it. It has stuck. It is her own creation. And so our karma, our moha, our attachment, our error, our suffering—all of it we have created ourselves. And we have stayed inside. We hang there and we die in this net. "Mine, mine, mine." And one can see what a great mistake it is. For example, today you can see in the neighboring country Yugoslavia that they are fighting over this land. Yesterday, we saw in the Mahābhārata that the Ācārya, the royal guru, told the king, "The land does not belong to you, you belong to the land. The land will always remain, and the land belongs to God. We are here only as guests." How beautiful it would be if we could live peacefully with this wisdom. All those poor soldiers who die on the battlefield have lost this homeland forever. So the one who dies here, in this land, having fought against someone, will be born in another land. And then he fights back again on another side. So in reality, one does not know whether one is truly fighting against one’s own brother, mother, sister, or father. Because you only know this life, you do not know the other life. And the ātmā changes the body just as this body changes its clothes. This is the reality. And when someone experiences this reality, then nothing else matters. To kill someone, to take a life, just for that—such a possession is an illusion. We believe, "It is my possession, I own that." Yes, for everyday language, we use these words much more often. But in reality, it possesses you. And one day I will awaken you. And she remains as she is. Like these little stories with two brothers, I can repeat once more. It was in a small village, where a farming family lived along with two or three houses. And they were very poor, and it did not rain, and so on. There was too much snow and cold winters and dry summers and cold winters and dry summers. And they had nothing at all. Both brothers—there were two strong brothers—decided that they would go to Vienna or the big state and work there, earn some bread, and then come back, bringing something to eat and so on. Both brothers, they were in a small one, they were with a small horse, or with, let’s say in today’s time, a modern time, a small moped—they rode with a moped. And they were driving through the forest, when along the way someone came towards them, a saint or a monk or a yogī or something, and said to both of them, "Do not continue on this path. Why? Because there sits a spirit, the Ghost. And this mind, the devil, will kill you." Well, for all of us, the devil has become a fairy tale. They say, "Do not go through the dark forest, for the devil sits there and so on." Every day on the highway, many, many cars travel. Why doesn’t the devil stop every car? Whether the devil exists or not is difficult. And today’s people do not believe and they have no fear of this devil. So, the two brothers said, "Well, you poor yogi or something like that, does the devil exist for you? The devil cannot kill us. We both have a rifle with us. And we are experts, and we are strong, we are warriors, we fight. Please say, go, give us way, go away and let us go." He said once again, "I tell you once again, please do not go, the devil will kill you." He said, "Very well, then we shall see how strong your devil is, and you will also see that we have made it through." So, hardly had they driven half a kilometer further through a dense forest when suddenly, they saw something. There lies a sentence, the press. A huge Ark of the Covenant filled with much gold and jewelry, as they say, inside, worth millions. And the two brothers got really worked up there and laughed. "You see, that was the Saint. He went there to fetch something, transport, because it is very heavy and he cannot carry it himself. And so, there is a wisdom in the trick. He wanted to distract us from this path, so that we do not take it away. But what he thinks now belongs to us. It is ours, and now we will carry this with us." Both brothers parked the moped and were very happy, embracing each other. Both brothers kissed each other on the cheeks. And he said, "Oh, how mature we are, and we really set off under a good, how shall I say, constellation of stars. Good luck." Well, they were like that, so happy, and they hugged and laughed. And as they say, "Meier makes everyone dance." Then they realized how hungry they were. So the eldest brother said to the youngest brother, "You take a gold coin from here and then, you see a small village and quickly ride the moped to get something to eat. By now, I will be careful—what does the Saint believe, the one who comes, who stands before my rifle, no one can come here." So the younger brother, who was kind, took a gold coin and rode his moped to a village. But throughout the entire journey, he only sees all these precious gems and gold that he has found. He comes to a village, sells this gold coin, and buys something good to eat, but he constantly sees how rich he is now. And all that they have found is happiness. And now, now his Buddhi. And now this Māyā will confuse him completely. "Bāpa Kā Loba." Yesterday I spoke, "Bāpa Kā Loba." The father of sin is greed, selfishness, greed. Where there is greed, there sin dwells. And now, greed comes and takes possession of his Buddhi. That means his mind will now become completely confused. "Yes, so much gold, that is how much it is. But I have to share that with my brother. If I could possess everything alone, then I could say, I am the richest. Well, why not, my brother is also wealthy. Yes, but still, we are two then. I am not yet rich enough. It may be that the eldest brother says, 'You are the younger brother, so you get the smaller portion. You get a small part.' What can I do?" He thinks, and now he forms one. Now he becomes wiser in his thoughts. "Yes, the Most Holy is the groove, and the wise one says, life is nothing. One day, you will die anyway. So, whether it is a brother or a father, one must die one day, sooner or later. Well, my brother must die someday too, so why not today?" So this is what he thinks now. And what he does, he buys poison and mixes poison into the food. "Well, I will give the food to my brother, then painlessly, he will fall asleep. And my sister-in-law, I will say, well, unfortunately she has passed away, and I will give her something that she can also read well." One brother before, both brothers loved each other so much, it was like two in one, like legumes, sharing one pod in a hall. So he bought poison, mixed it in, and set out on his way. The other side, the eldest brother, he stands beside, he sits beside, he cannot sit, he is restless. Then he stands up, then sits down again, and again, completely hypnotized by this whole Māyā, and he said, "The same thought: if I could inherit everything alone, I would be the richest, but unfortunately I have to share with my brother." Well, they say one day you die and everything is left behind. "Well, surely the brother doesn’t come prepared, he comes to me completely relaxed, and I have a rifle in my hand, just need to press a button. And with that, my brother is already in the happiest state. Hari Om." And he has resolved, with his rifle prepared, and the youngest brother comes, poison in his pocket, mixed into the food, and he comes, and the eldest brother kills him. So he’s lying there, one side is the moped, the other side is the brother, and the eldest brother is crying a little, "My beloved brother, forgive me, but it couldn’t be otherwise," and so on, a bit of theater. And now, the brother said, "Well, it’s also very good that I don’t need to sleep with the brother, but I can perhaps continue the whole treasure with this moped. But I am weak, I must eat first. So I say, brother, I am sorry, and so on and so forth." And he grabs it, eats. And he takes something, and he eats. And while he was eating, he began to yawn. And lies down, Hari Om, exhausted. And now both are dead, both have passed away. And the saint comes by again and goes, saying, "Oh God, I told them, this devil will kill them. And they did not believe it. Now I have to bury the two of them. How many people has this devil killed?" And then it continued, burying them and so on. And thus, that is Moha. Moha is this attachment, so strong that it confuses even the fully enlightened Buddha. And then one cannot think anything so purely and clearly. And unfortunately, our greed strongly supports it. And so this Māyā is the devil. "Mo Māyā Kā Jāla Prabhu Nirachāyā." It may be that God created this world, but that means, this complication, this web, was indeed created by God. "Mo Māyā Kā Jāla Prabhu Nirachāyā. Diyā Karama Kā Banda." He who has tied the knot of karmas to this net. "Jīvako Pāśāyā." All individuals, all fish are in this net, they cannot get out. A fish lies in the ocean, yet trapped in a net. Sooner or later, the fisherman will come and cast the net. Whether they want to get along, but they cannot get along, because they cannot. Then "Prajñādvaya" says, "Gurudeva Parama Upakārī." Therefore, the manifestation, the incarnation of the Guru, the Master, the Tattva is manifested in this world. The supreme benefactor, the highest benefactor, is virtue. The one, they say "Tugenda"? Can one say "Tugenda"? "Tugendha." Imprecise, thank you. "Mo Māyā Kā Jāla Kāṭa Diyā Hari." And then he cut through this knot, or this net of that Mo Māyā. Part 3: The Net of Consciousness and the Three Impurities Once again, all the fish are free, swimming away happily and swiftly. And so, we are trapped; we are caught in this net. These threads are so invisible, yet they are there, and they are so strong. Cutting through them is neither our task nor within our ability; it is not within our power. We need a wisdom that can cut through, that can dissolve. When light shines, then darkness disappears. These elements or feelings in the Chakras are the invisible network as qualities, as feelings. And so now it has begun in the Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra. In Svādhiṣṭhāna, one becomes aware in this phenomenon. Now he has become conscious: "Yes, I am." But you are, yet you are trapped. As long as the fish lives in the ocean, free, it does not know what life means. It gets its nourishment, perhaps eats a small fish or so, and lives without pain. Gently, it floats back and forth. But as soon as one is caught in the net and barely pulled out of the water, then one knows now what life means or what my free ocean means. And so, as long as one has not attained this consciousness, the human consciousness lives in ignorance and does not know what God means. But then, as soon as a person becomes conscious, unfortunately, they find themselves caught in a web. This phenomenon is a strong web, and we cannot cut it out. Of course, we have many techniques, many theories that tell us how we can do it. But again, this foolish mind cannot accept anything. So Mahāprabhujī said, even he himself does not know, do not believe the words of the master, what can God do with these persons. And so arguments always arise: when a mantra comes, when a prayer comes, when a technique comes, then, yes, that, but why not this, or why not that? Also, discussion would be a waste of time, a loss of time. It is very important that if we wish to free ourselves from this net, we must be consistent, practice it daily with discipline, reflect upon it, and not fall back into this Māyā again. So Māyā is, and Māyā is also nothing. Basically, we ourselves are the ones who disappoint ourselves. And so, in the Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra, there are certain qualities that are very strong, pleasant, and good. The mind creates the state. The mind creates the state. So the second part of it would then be consciousness. Consciousness is an important part of our existence. Consciousness is the light of the soul, the consciousness that guides us, that keeps us attentive. Consciousness is the state, or consciousness is the field where the soul abides. Consciousness is the womb where the soul develops, just as an embryo develops there. Consciousness has several levels, or this consciousness passes through several levels. Consciousness is consciousness; light is light, dependent on the light screen, how dense it is and what color it has. And so one can say, consciousness is also a stone, also a crystal that grows. Consciousness is everywhere, and consciousness is called the subconscious, the unconscious, consciousness, highest consciousness, divine or cosmic consciousness. Unconsciousness is like sleep; it is a state of sleep paralysis. Just as in this hot piece there is also fire, but this fire is no longer active. It is asleep. That is what the celebration means. And consciousness is the canvas where everything exists. The entire frequency or vibration of our karma exists on the canvas of our consciousness. From stone to plants, consciousness is very low. It is unconsciousness. From the fish to the animals is the second part: consciousness, subconsciousness. And human consciousness is a consciousness. And the consciousness that can be attained through meditation, through prayers, and so forth, is the highest consciousness. That means a consciousness of a certain kind. And then, when this consciousness unites, the individual phenomenon with the cosmic consciousness, it is called unity, cosmic consciousness. Now, although we are so divided as humans, we are still present, yet our roots are very deep, like stones. Our portion of our unconsciousness is all of our past lives. All impressions from the previous life are in the unconscious. Simply forgetting that is not enough. It is there, and you cannot simply overcome it. Only from, or to forget. One cannot walk on the path. You can run as fast as you want, but the shadow always runs along with you. The shadow moves just as fast as you do. So, whether this life or another life, one cannot run away from one’s śikṣā or from one’s karma. The subconscious is a part of our Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra. Where do we become aware now? Why do we become aware? Because we are human beings. We know the differences, we know what problems are. That means human consciousness is a brighter consciousness, the vigilant one. He is awake, and the more he awakens, the more problems he will notice. As long as you sleep very tired in your room, you do not notice anything around you, whatever lies there and so on. Unwashed dishes lie in the kitchen, and the laundry, and all that lies there, but you are so tired and you enjoy your sleep. Nothing disturbs you. You are asleep. But as soon as you wake up, you say, oh God, little rope, I have to clear all this away. Then you begin to purify things. And so now, from human consciousness, we have awakened, we have become aware from our subconscious. And the subconscious here consists of these qualities. These are the qualities that always pull us downward, that always want to lead us to other planes. And they are there as our difficulties, as problems. And here is the important thing: there are three aspects, which are called Mala, Vikṣepa and Āvaraṇa. And these three principles—Mala, Vikṣepa, Āvaraṇa—are very important for purification. Mala means impurity, dirt. Vikṣepa means disturbances. Āvaraṇa means curtain. For example, in this glass or in a hall, there is liquid inside and at the bottom lies a coin or something, a ring or anything. Now, this liquid is not pure. It has waves within it. They are constant, the waves. Can you not read or see what is down there? And on top of that, they are covered. It is there, but you cannot see through it. This curtain has covered it. When you remove the curtain, there are the disturbances, the waves, so that you cannot see clearly. And even one who is calm cannot see, because impurity is present there. And these are the things that cleanse the entire cakra pathway. Mala means impurity. And this impurity has two types. An impurity, as we say, always dust, it must move. Clothes will wear out, our body becomes dusty, it must wear out. Then we should go wash it and so on, and we wash our laundry and such. This is much easier to wash. This impurity is easier to cleanse. The second type of impurity lies very deep in the mind, in the mind. And this mind is not easy to purify. Our thoughts—how do we know how pure they are? Our feelings, how pure they are. Our experiences, how pure they are. So this impurity means dishonest thoughts. And this dishonest thought darkens the light of our consciousness. If it believes that someone cannot read my thoughts, then I have my freedom to think. We have the freedom to think, but we must know that this thinking has a repercussion on our own Self. And so the man destroys himself. The man stands on his own path. The self is an obstacle on its own path. To cleanse the body, to cleanse things, we may need an hour or a day or a week, perhaps a month or a year. But to purify this consciousness, we may need several lifetimes. One can be materially poor, but in thought one should not be poor. Think wisely, think positively, think fully with your love, devotion, grace. And this is the one who will guide us further. External purity is important for society. It is love first and foremost. Love your neighbor. Always listen, often there. Alright, it doesn’t bother you if you don’t wash your socks for one or two months. But it is not love at first, because the others actually come close to you. Right? It disturbs you. So that is not love, at least not initially. Disturbance, Vikṣepa. Vikṣepa means disturbances. Now, there are also two types of disturbances. A disturbance is the sound tone, a sound or a discord, a noise. And noise has several forms. Rushing from the car, rushing from the playground, rushing from the neighbor, from the radius and various rushing from the kitchen, from the woman who is always rushing, washing dishes, ironing, the man cannot sleep or meditate, or rushing, the man is working in the garden. All these kinds of traveling, whatever comes from outside, is like Vikṣepa. But these kinds of travels can be more easily avoided. If you have no opportunity to avoid it, then at least you can use earwax and refrain from these kinds of travels. Or it happens in the park when we go into the forest. But there are other kinds of journeys that lie within ourselves. And these are the Vikṣepa. And this type of vikṣepa is very difficult to remove. And these vikṣepa are personal feelings, fear. It is fear that makes us restless. It is our insecurity that leads us into fear. Uncertainty, fear, fear of anything at all, illnesses, fear of people, fear of existence, no matter what kind, inner fear, is a powerful disturbance. This vikṣepa is very difficult to remove. Unfocused, restless thoughts, sleeplessness, anger, hatred—these are the inner disturbances. And as long as these waves are present, what Patañjali said in his theory, in the Yoga Sūtras, the vṛttis, the citta vṛttis, the vṛttis are the waves, the waves of the mind, that come and go, come and go. And when the waves are there, one cannot see clearly inside, even though the water is very clear. Now we come to clear water. The water is completely clear; something of you has entered the lake at the bottom, but it is perfectly clear. And you want to dive deep because it lies a bit deeper, and you cannot hold your breath for so long, Siddha Pīṭha Paramparā, Siddha Pīṭha Paramparā,... Siddha seat mantle. You want to share with your fellow human beings, and you want to explain to them, according to Yoga, what it is, and then you say, okay, you can do it, but please, I don’t want to hear about it, I have nothing to do with it. Do not leave me; you must not influence me. So this is an Āvaraṇa. And there is a little story about a lion cub, in Wales, a lion cub, a very freshly born baby. The mother has been chased away somewhere, has run away. And a herd of goats comes, and he takes this little baby with him. And he immediately gives milk from a goat to drink and takes it home, and again gives milk from the goat to drink, and he locks it up, in the same stable where the goats are. Other days he takes it along again, so to speak, he raised the lion cub like a goat. He also ate the grass, ate the leaves, and so on. Now, although he was the lion, he also thinks he is a goat. A bird suddenly flies from somewhere into a tree, and the goats get startled. And so the lion is now frightened as well. Once another lion came, a real grown wild lion, and he wanted to have a goat for breakfast. And all the goats ran away out of fear, and even this lion, who is now grown up, quickly ran away with the goats. The goats also made the small spheres, and he did something as well, apart from fear. Only the wild lion thinks, why is my relative there? Why is he running away? Is he afraid of the lion? So he ran quickly and handed over the goat, and then he wanted to catch his lion. And so, he has already captivated him. And he screams and closes his eyes and says, please don’t put it in my hand, please leave me alone, I am a poor goat and so on. And the lion says, you are not a goat, you are a lion. He said, do not lie, I am not a lion, you are a foolish, dangerous lion, please let me go. He says, you are a lion. I am not a lion. I am afraid and run away with my people. He said, no, you are a lion, you will set yourself free. I cannot see that you walk around as a lion among goats. He took him along and came to a puddle of water and said, now look into your own face and then look at me—do you look like me or do you look like a goat? And then he looks into the water and he sees little ears, lots of hair, and so on. No horns and no long ears and so on. And he looks at the lion and then back again and again. Are you really saying I am a lion? He said, yes, you are a lion. Then why am I wandering around with these goats? Why am I afraid? He said, this is a misconception. This is a society. Society has brought him this far. And now you are a lion and come with me, and he has returned to freedom in nature. So this breath is essence, a part of God. But we believe God is there and we are just small people somewhere. And we cannot do that, and we suffer, and we are afraid, and all of that. So we should awaken through our wisdom the fact that we are lions, that we are breathers. But there are many people who draw the curtain. They do not want that, even though you want to show them. But to say, no, I want nothing to do with it. Leave me alone, I am content where I am. Or as I am. And so are the veils, also the veils of the Śikṣā. These types of curtains are easier to open. But the curtains of the Śikṣā are difficult to open.

This text is transcribed and grammar corrected by AI. If in doubt what was actually said in the recording, use the transcript to double click the desired cue. This will position the recording in most cases just before the sentence is uttered.

The text contains hyperlinks in bold to three authoritative books on yoga, written by humans, to clarify the context of the lecture:

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