TV Channel

Good evening, everyone, and welcome to this satsaṅg at our beautiful Jhara Nasham in the presence of Gurudeva. In a satsaṅg, it is always safe to speak about humans—about you, about me, about us. It is safe because one can hardly say something wrong, in the sense that whatever we address concerns us as humans. And we humans are very complex: complex in structure, complex in appearance, complex in our adventure, in our mysteriousness, and in our depth. If we were so easy to understand, we most probably would not be sitting here and listening. We would either roam freely in this world, or most likely would not be in human form at all. A human being is complex in structure and in patterns. It is not just one, two, or three things, but has many levels. In yoga terms, we speak of different kośas. First, there is our body, which correlates and corresponds to our inner world. Everyone has a different inner world: what they live, what they experience, what they express, and what they try to manage. This exists on the material, physical, social, intellectual, emotional, and, of course, the spiritual level. If we were to extract only one piece from this structure, one part of the puzzle, we would do humans a great injustice. Those who have studied a little psychology will know of a pyramid describing the different needs and wants of people. First, we must satisfy our basic needs. These basic needs are based on the development of certain energy. In yoga terms, we speak of Kuṇḍalinī and how it manifests differently in each of us. We also refer to two main needs, two main forces, two main śaktis. One is the śakti to preserve ourselves, our body—by taking food, nourishment, and creating life circumstances so that we do not die. The second force is to multiply ourselves. These two forces are inherent in the Kuṇḍalinī and express themselves in various ways. If I mentioned that human existence is very complex, I would also say it is very mysterious. The more one explores oneself, the less one seems to know about oneself. Yet, at the same time, one comes closer to one's own real Self. It is a kind of paradox: the more we give up in the right way, the more we can gain in knowing our true Self. In human life, some people are lucky, some are happy, and many are unhappy. What is happiness, unhappiness, or good luck for one may not be so for another. It depends on one's own spiritual development. By spiritual development, I mean that degree of desire, wish, or longing to know who we are in reality. This does not necessarily mean we lead a conventionally happy life, nor that others do not lead a spiritual life without knowing it. There are many people, like great artists, who live a spiritual life without being consciously aware of it. On the other hand, there are many who strive consciously for spirituality, and it is very hard work, connected with much pain and suffering. What, then, is the motor, the driving force to know more and to overcome that? It is, truly, interest in one's own Self. This is the first point: interest in one's own real Self. This interest can have many phases. We can commit to a spiritual path—and there are many such paths. We can also serve on a social level; selfless service can be done in many ways and does not necessarily require a spiritual background. It can involve delving into psychological schools or exploring our own limitations and borders through various activities, even the adventurous or extreme sports popular today. All this is somehow connected to a feeling of "I am bored; I want to know more about myself: how I feel, how I react, how far I can go." Yet all these contain certain limitations. Of course, there is one final spiritual experience that nature denies to no one and that everyone must face: death. It is the great spiritual experience of life. But truly lucky are those who have an interest in their own Self on the spiritual path and have found the way. Blessed are those who realize that certain things are necessary to proceed on a spiritual path in a very safe way. These include interest in one's own Self, right guidance through a mentor, teacher, or guru, and the readiness for selfless service—though selfless service is not something we can do easily, as we often ask for certain fruits, even on a fasting day. Happy and lucky are those who can travel on a train running on a track with two lines. In our tradition, one line is the Guru Paramparā: an unbroken lineage from master to disciple, who in turn becomes a master. Every master in the Paramparā is different. Each has a different work to be done, different responsibilities, and different surroundings of disciples that they attract and accept. They have different natures and teach accordingly. If you look at Śrī Devapurījī, an incarnation of Śiva, of the nature of Śiva, Param Yogeshwar is very strict. He does not compromise in implementing the law and looks at this world as, let us say, bullshit. Śrīdīp Nārāyaṇ Bhagavān, Mahāprabhujī, whom we call a Viṣṇu avatāra, expresses the nature of Viṣṇu with all his mercy and abundance of giving. I do not wish to express with words what he may think about this world, this māyā, this illusion. Our dear beloved Gurujī would express it as, "Yes, very dangerous. Take care." You see the different ways they look at it and express it. And, of course, our dear Swāmījī might say, "Yes, yes, take care. Each leg will go," because his teaching is different from Gurujī's. In essence, it is the same, but the methods they use and how they present the teachings are different. These teachings are traditional, very sāttvic, and represent the truth in the sense of sanātana dharma, but they are molded and adapted to the circumstances of time and space. This is one line of the track on which our train travels. The other line is the basic teachings and techniques of yoga, given from guru to disciple for centuries. If we trace it back, it comes from the ṛṣis, especially the great ṛṣi Patañjali, who preserved it in the great work of the Yoga Sūtras. The deep knowledge and mystery of human existence are preserved in these verses, these ślokas. This is the other track we travel on. It has been adapted by Swāmījī and prepared in such a way that it is digestible for our mind and transferable into our daily life. There are three main pillars in human life. When we orient ourselves toward these three pillars, or try to establish them, we have a good and safe foundation to proceed in exploring ourselves, whether through yoga or any other path. The first pillar is strong determination. On the spiritual path, we must have strong determination, connected with our will and self-discipline. The second pillar is inner security, inner awareness, and inner confidence. The third pillar is faith, or trust. These three pillars are essential. They are like a stable tripod for a camera; if you have a statue on three pillars, it is safe. The recording will be stable with no disturbances. It is the same with these three pillars in life. From the perspective of the spiritual path, we can easily understand the first pillar: strong determination. In Jñāna Yoga, you have concepts like samādhi, uparati, and didikṣā. Sādhanā is all connected to willpower, strong determination in life, and self-discipline. Developing a strong will is necessary to sail through life, as it gives you an aim, a goal, and helps you act and react properly. This Icchā Śakti is a small part of the Kuṇḍalinī Śakti, expressing itself as willpower. History shows us people with very strong willpower who achieved a great deal. On the spiritual path, it is an essential tool. But like any sharp tool, it can do much good or much harm. One must be skilled in its use, knowing when and how to use it. A doctor uses a scalpel to perform an operation; he can do much good, but can also harm with it. So willpower, when properly settled and connected like a spider's web to all your other qualities, is a very useful tool. On the other hand, if you have only strong willpower, you may keep up your personality even in troubles, but that is not necessarily good. Sometimes it is necessary to break down—especially wrong ideas, concepts, and imaginations. If your willpower is strong and keeps them upheld, they become difficult to break. So willpower alone is not enough. In the long run, one must surrender the will. As it is said in Christianity, "Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." We also say, "Nāhaṁ kartā"—not "I am doing," but "You should do." Who are you? God. You should surrender that will, for then we can come out of time and space. As long as our will is connected to our ego, we still act within time and space. By surrendering, we surrender not to the karmic law, but to the cosmic law, the law of the cosmos. This means we become a tool—a complete human tool—to channel that divine energy and represent it in this world in whatever way we are asked. It becomes a kind of selfless service. We take responsibility and fulfill our duty. The same applies to self-discipline. The two words are "self" and "discipline." We discipline the self—but which one? Actually, it is our true Self, our real Self, that we want to come near and realize by being disciplined in our life. Self-discipline helps us discover our inner qualities because it gives us a certain border, a framework. Psychologically, we frame our life and find out what is within that frame. This does not mean we stop there; we take a part of our life, frame it, and look at it like a picture. Then we can see, find out, and start to put the puzzle together. Once achieved, the frame is no longer necessary, and we can extend it. If we look only from a very spiritual level, it may be quite difficult to achieve real success. When we look at the Yoga Sūtras of Patañjali, it is a very subtle approach to human personality and mind in the psychological sense. He was the first great psychologist on earth, and perhaps still the greatest, beside Freud, of course. Nowadays, psychology has made a great achievement by slowly starting to understand that it must take the human as a whole—not cut into parts and then glued back together. We cannot deny the spiritual level, and more schools are starting to involve spiritual approaches in their theories. This is a great thing, as psychology unfolds certain truths of human behavior, existence, and patterns of action and reaction. Yet, it is still stuck somewhere. I recall a story by the Indian Christian mystic, Antonio de Mello. He tells of a boy in school whom the teacher thinks is a bit slow. One day, the teacher sees the boy playing with mud and cow dung. The teacher asks, "What are you doing?" The boy says, "I'm playing with cow dung." "Yes, but what are you forming? You are making something." "Yes, I am making a teacher." The teacher thinks, "My God, this boy is regressing." He puts the boy in a box, labels it, and tells the principal. The principal comes, sees the boy, and asks, "What are you making?" The boy looks and says, "I am making a principal." The principal thinks, "This boy is regressing; we must send him to the school psychologist." The psychologist comes and asks, "Oh, what are you making here?" "I'm playing with cow dung." "But you are forming something." The boy says, "Yes, I am forming a psychologist." The psychologist looks at him and says, "Oh, no, there is not enough cow dung." You see the double point: they understand, but still they do not understand. As long as psychology does not involve the spiritual level of human existence, it will not be complete. Now, the first pillar is strong determination. The second pillar is inner security, inner awareness. What does this mean? Normally in life, we act and react without thinking. Sometimes we react with thinking, often with feelings, but hardly ever with awareness—awareness that we are acting and reacting, and awareness of how we are acting and reacting. This outer awareness is often lacking. Inner awareness is even more absent. How often are we aware of what we are thinking during the day? Are we aware that our mind works more or less 24 hours, whether with emotions, feelings, or thoughts? If we lack outer awareness, what can we say of inner awareness? Only when we start to develop this ability can we begin to practice basic yoga techniques like mantra, because only when we are aware and conscious do we know the absence. So inner awareness, inner security, and inner confidence are essential. Without them, we drift like foam on water, blown here and there by the wind of our destiny, by the wind of our karmas. The third pillar is trust. Trust comes into play when knowledge is absent or incomplete. Trust is connected with belief. We believe something is true or right for us. This belief, connected with trust, when put into action and explored in our inner being, leads to knowledge through meditation, through our sādhanā. Once you realize who you are, you no longer need trust or belief; you can let go of all ideas and concepts. But as long as we are not there, we must develop our trust, confidence, right beliefs, and faith—faith in others, faith in our mentor, and faith in ourselves. This is difficult because we do not even know who we are on the surface. How can we have trust in these ever-changing circumstances, our mindset, our personality, character, and nature? Only when we start to look beyond and get glimpses of that truth will we start to hold on to it and try to gain more knowledge. But first, we must develop trust. Trust is a safe transport to bring us from point A to point B. Without trust in ourselves, we could not even sit in a car and drive. Without trust in our driver, we would shake in fear. Trust is very common, but concerning spiritual achievement, it can be tricky. Often, we trust our own thoughts and feelings, only to realize suddenly, "Oh, I have been cheated." Therefore, it is good to have an outer source of trust on which we can rely when our inner trust is not reliable. Everything we do in our sādhanā, practice, daily life, and seva is connected with trust—the trust that we will reach that point where we say, "Yes, that's it." It is a very long way. So, basically, we must keep in mind that we use trust to realize our own Self. For a spiritual seeker whose longing is as strong as that of a drowning person gasping for oxygen, there is nothing else but to look for the Self, search for the Self, understand the Self, and realize the Self. For such a person, nothing else matters. But as long as we have not come to that point, we must utilize the tools given to us: willpower, self-discipline, trust, and all the techniques of yoga. We should look at the two tracks on which our train travels: our Guru Paramparā and our Yoga in Daily Life. It is an essential part. If you realize how beneficial it is, how lucky we are to have it, to be blessed with it, then our journey will be safe. So, look for the Self, search for the Self, realize the Self, and nothing else. Of course, something else is there: we have to live our life. We have a body, a healthy mind, emotions, and an environment—whether we live in an āśram or in the world, it does not matter. Everyone is in the right place. There is nothing else to do. Just do not look over the fence; the grass always seems greener on the other side. Turn into yourself. Look at yourself. That is all that matters. Śrīdīp Nārāyaṇ Bhagavān Kī Jai. Śrīdeva Īśvara Mahādeva Kī Jai. Śrī Mārav Kṛṣṇa Bhagavān Kī Jai. Viśva Guru Mahāmaleśvara Paramahaṃsavāmī Maheśvara Ānandapurījī Mahārāja Kī Jai.