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Part 1: Ascending the Spiritual Mountain: The Path to Crystal-Clear Purity Presently, I am in Kathu, where Mahāprabhujī lived, and I greet you all here in this Bhakti Sāgara where we are, and all brothers and sisters, all devotees and friends around the world. I am very happy that Swāmījī gave me the task and the challenge to speak today about the spiritual path. It is a very good subject because all of us sitting here and listening are on the spiritual path. So, what is spirituality? I love most the definition that Swāmījī gives: Spirituality means crystal-clear purity. A crystal, which was not clear due to much pressure and high temperature deep in the earth, is then worked on until it becomes completely clear. That is the aim of the spiritual path: to become like a clear crystal. Then you can see inside your real nature, which is only light. If you look at a crystal, you see the light coming inside, and thousands of colors appear. It is beautiful; it is pure purity. That is why at the beginning I was singing some mantras. For instance, Oṃ Pūrṇamadaḥ Pūrṇamidaṃ. This means that God is complete. And as we are a part of this completeness, we are complete as well. Like if you take a drop of water from the ocean, the water is the same as the water in the ocean. If you take one piece out of the completeness, the completeness always remains complete. So the aim of our path is to reach this crystal-clear purity, where the light of knowledge—of Jñāna—can sprinkle, where God can give us the knowledge and the wisdom of our true nature, which is Sacchidānanda: the consciousness of truth and eternal happiness. Now, let us come to a very practical thing. I want to take you on a mountain, a very high mountain, because the spiritual path is also about going to a high, high level, like climbing a mountain. On the top of a very high mountain, if you have ever been there, you feel it is wonderful because you are in the absolute ākāśa, like the divine consciousness. There is nothing around you anymore, and you stand above everything. There is this light shining outside of you. This is the path toward completeness; that is the path of spirituality. As I told you already, nearly every one of you has been to a mountain, haven’t you? No one has lived only in the desert. And even in the desert, we have a little mountain here in Jadan, Kailash. There are the same principles for how to climb a mountain, especially a high one. So first of all, if we go on a path, what is needed? What do we need first? Starting from point A—let’s say from Jadan—we have to know where we are going. Isn’t it? It is an important thing. If we go out on the street now and we do not know where we are going, what will happen? You go nowhere, you meet nobody, and you end in nothing. You are lost. You go out, go right, go left, this and that—nothing. So the first thing is, you must have a determination. In the morning when you go by car, on foot, by plane, on a horse, or on a camel—it doesn’t matter how you go—you should know your destination. This is important, and only you yourself should decide what your aim is. Now, let’s say we go on a 3,000-meter mountain. This we can more or less enforce. We must know how to go. In the mountains, you should never go too quickly—never. And you should not change your tempo. One of you may want to press ahead, but you will soon become tired and have to stop. The other one, who goes step by step, in a very regular walk where his whole body, blood pressure, heart, everything can adapt, will endure and reach the first level. It is not advisable to run and fall over certain things on the way, like stones, due to tiredness. There is a small story. Two men were walking on a dark night and could not find the way. One was a very intelligent high professor, a university professor; the other was a simple farmer. They had no torch, nothing. Then by luck, a flash of lightning came, and by the lightning everything could be seen. The professor looked up, but in the moment of the lightning he was blinded and could not see anything. The simple farmer just looked at the floor. Then he saw which road, which way he had to go. So it is also important to be very careful where you are going, how you are going, and with whom you are going. Do not blind yourself by saying, “I must achieve this in one year; I must have attainment.” And if it doesn’t work, you go to a guru who shows miracles. A guru who does not show miracles—what is this? This is not a guru. This is like the lightning: it comes quickly and blinds you, and you miss your way. So the guru, the master, can guide you. Especially Yoga in Daily Life, the whole system that Swāmījī created—this is his little steps: go step by step. Do not wait for the lightnings, please. The light will come on its own—in one day, in one month, in one life, in ten lives, in a hundred lives—but it will come. The main thing is that at one time you decided to aim for this goal. And when you go on the spiritual path, one step towards God, He will come towards you a thousand steps. This is a reality, and I think every one of us has experienced this. We also have in our bhajans, which are from Holy Gurujī and Mahāprabhujī, one bhajan that is really a mountain bhajan, exactly describing this spiritual path and how to go. But I will just be practical now. So, do not fall into the trap of the lightning. Look at what kind of people go beside you and what kind of steps you have to take. If you have a high aim, then always take small steps. Small steps are sure steps. One time, we have a very wonderful practice in yoga: Yoga Nidrā, a deep relaxation technique. In Yoga Nidrā, you can make a Saṅkalpa, which means a vow or a decision at the beginning or at the end. Because Yoga Nidrā works at a very subconscious level, it affects your subconscious deeply. I speak from experience, not from books. I am a person who also took high aims. I was—maybe still am—but now I am careful about the steps. Some years ago, I took a Śaṅkalpa like self-realization, something like that. And you will not believe, so many things happened—but not good. In my work, things happened; the car broke down; everything was a disaster the next month. I said, “What is going on? Is it astrology?” Then I realized: oh my goodness, I made such a Saṅkalpa. If you make such a Saṅkalpa, God is listening to you. He sees everything and listens to you. He listens to everything, knows everything, and says, “Okay, my dear, if you want, no problem, but you have to go through all your karmas now.” So one after the other came, and when I realized this, I immediately changed my Saṅkalpa. I said, “No, no, just a little bit less angry,” or just relaxation. These are small things, but God is listening. Believe me, this is everything. He fulfills your wishes, and that can sometimes not be so easy. Anyway, we were starting from our base point, going to Mount Kailash, a higher one—another 3,000 meters. We said we have to know where to go, right? And we decided to look at the path. So what we need and what can happen when going up? You will need good equipment. You might go barefoot. There can be a glacier, traps, a waterfall. Many things. Good equipment is necessary. Good equipment you get from a good shop, a sports shop. In this case, it’s not a sports shop, it’s a spiritual shop. And a spiritual shop is Yoga in Daily Life: 4,000 centers around the world will give you the right equipment, good shoes. Then what more is needed? You have to go through forests, stones, and there is no road. When you come up very high, there is no path anymore; you have to find your path. So what is good to take with you? A guide. This is the most important, actually. That is what Swāmījī always says, and I like very much how he says it: “See, everywhere you need a master, no? There is a shoe master, a clothes master, and when you are driving, you need guidance everywhere. So in spirituality also you need guidance, because otherwise you can reach, but maybe you go in the wrong direction, or you go back, or you go five times around, and you do not know which way you are going up.” There is again a little story. There was one blind man in a room—a round room like where we are sitting. In this room there was only one door. He wanted to go out and to measure how big the room is. Because he was blind, he could not see the door. So he went with his hands along the wall. But in the moment when he came to the door, something on his head started to itch. He removed his hands from the wall to scratch, but he kept walking. So he missed the door. Then he walked again along the wall and came to the door again. In that moment, his underarm started to itch. Just before the door came, he had to put his hands away from the wall again to scratch himself, and again he missed. He went to the wall, walked, and then his back itched. Again he put his hands like that and passed the door. This kept happening, and he did not find the door. This is a little symbolic for the many, many lives we have been going in this Chaurāsī Cakra, in this circle of birth and death. Because of some attachment, some passion, something that holds us back in the world—this itching—it did not let us go out, it did not let us find the door. In the moment we were very near, something disturbed us, and we put our hands away. So the master can open the door for you and take your hand, lead you out of this room, and guide you towards the light, so that your blindness—which means you have forgotten, we have forgotten our true nature—is removed. This blindness, and the aim is to know our real nature, which is called ātmā jñāna. It is necessary that someone opens this door so that we can go out of the blindness and see who we are in reality. Now, why did I come to the door? Equipment, guidance, yes. One point was where we go, how we go, which equipment we have, and most important, the guide. The guide should have experience. Because it can be that a waterfall or ice is there, and he must catch you with a rope. He must have all the equipment with him to save you if something happens. Now we are going on this path upwards, and many things can happen. What can happen? Falling, sickness, fear, an avalanche. There can be traps, you can fall inside. And what can be in front of you? Suddenly, there is no road. Obstacles on the road, like a stone fall or an avalanche. So what will you do? Pray to God. That is a very good answer. Now, I tell you, this matter of obstacles is interesting. When I go sometimes in the Himalayas, you must know that Himalayan roads are not normal roads. There are stones and water, and the main thing is, the road is curved into the rocks. On one side is a rock where sometimes rocks can fall onto the road. On the other side, it is just 100 meters down, and down there is a river. If you fall, then it is Hari Om. Sometimes, especially in the rainy season, rocks or earth come down and block the complete road. And your car cannot go any further. This happens especially in August and July, in the rainy season. Then it is very interesting: they bring a JCB, a caterpillar machine—I do not know from where they come, I am always astonished, but Indian people are very clever. They come, dig out the whole thing, put it to this side and that side, and after waiting one or two hours, the obstacles are removed. I was studying this. If you see the normal things in life, you can learn a lot. I asked, “What is needed to remove obstacles, actually?” You know the main thing? To remove the rocks and the earth. But they need some action. God needs our hands. The main thing is the right tool to remove the obstacle. Otherwise, you can sit here for three years and pray to Gaṇeśa. It is very good because he was sending the caterpillars—that is good. But you need the right tools. Without the right tools, you sit there for maybe several lives, no? Before your obstacles: I hate my mother, I hate my husband, I hate myself. That is an obstacle. So the caterpillar has to come—do-do-do-do, ch-ch. Caterpillar means yourself. There must be some movement inside of you, and you remove the whole thing. Strong energy is needed, actually. So, first of all, the right tools. And those people driving the caterpillar operate very dangerously, right on the edge with 100 meters down—very dangerous. So what do they have to do? Because now we are in the caterpillar and removing the obstacles, okay? What is needed more? Concentration. Concentration. Part 2: The Spiritual Mountaineer: Awareness, Obstacles, and the Path to Liberation Along with concentration, we need awareness. You must be completely aware, and this is a quality we should cultivate in daily life. Be aware, and you will truly live. When you are aware, you are living in the present moment. Your thoughts, your mind, are not wandering into the past or the future; they rest solely in the now. This means removing obstacles. First, you have to know what the obstacle is, don't you? Just as with a caterpillar—you can steer it in another direction and avoid the obstacle. But you need to understand what kind of obstacles you intend to remove with that caterpillar. Then you require the caterpillar itself, which stands for a great deal of energy. Next, you need the awareness that in this very moment you want to clear away this or that. That is a kind of decision we must make daily. And it is very beneficial to make a daily decision, a daily Saṅkalpa—not too big. These are the small steps toward the summit. Yes, small steps and a modest Saṅkalpa each day: Which obstacle do I wish to remove? See, we have just celebrated Divālī. During this time, Swāmījī told us that we should forgive. Try to forgive the past, forgive your enemies. This is, for example, one such step: “Today I will try to forgive whoever crosses my path, no matter what they do.” So we must be very aware of what we want to remove. We need concentration and some fuel—something like petrol inside the caterpillar—otherwise we cannot clear the obstacles. That is how it is. Now we know how to deal with obstacles, so we move on. And now the path becomes very difficult, because you have to balance on stones, and there may be ice or something along the way. At this stage, the guide will give you something, since the going gets very steep. He gives you a rope. He gives you a rope, or even a stick. This means that He is now the guide, carrying you with this rope and protecting you so that you do not fall. And what could this rope be? The rope the Guru gives us to reach the top may differ for every master. Our master Swamiji’s main rope, which he offers us so we may reach the goal, is the mantra. And this mantra has been handed down through hundreds of years from our Guru Paramparā, coming, in fact, from the high mountains of the Himalayas where Alakhpurījī lived. The mantra is the guidance, the security, and the protection we need to ascend the high mountain. Perhaps now is the moment to tell you about the bhajan Mahāprabhujī composed. You all know it. In it, Mahāprabhujī tells us: "Oh my mind, go slowly, slowly, for steep, steep is the path to the Divine Homeland—the Heimat, the Homeland, the Divine Homeland from where we come and to where we will return." Seventy thousand rivers you must cross—these are the nāḍīs—and deep ravines you have to overcome. Thousands of miles above the heavens is the house of God. God’s house is above everything, above every human being, above all things. And this means we have to develop our kuṇḍalinī śakti and journey through all the cakras until we reach the Sahasrāra Cakra, which symbolically stands above everything, where liberation takes place. The way is narrow and slippery, and dark is the night. Dark is the night means that we do not actually see the path. We fail to see the way because of so much darkness. Yoga often says that in ignorance we do not know our real divine nature; we are disturbed and focused on all worldly things instead of the main thing. You know, one beautiful definition of Brahmacarya is to always think of God. So if we keep thinking of God in one way or another—by repeating mantras, chanting mantras, or singing bhajans—that is how light will illuminate the darkness, and you will be able to see your path. And if the way is slippery and you are sleeping—yes, sleeping—then you fall down, just as I told you about the Himalayas, and then it is “Hari Om.” That means if you do not succeed in this life in reaching the top—perfection, completeness—then you will have to be reborn again and again. Mahāprabhujī also tells us that the twenty-five temptations are a deterrent. They make you dance like a cobra before the snake charmer. Illusion comes to you, informed by twenty-five very special indriyas—temptations from all directions. And they play such beautiful melodies that you find yourself dancing after them. Then your way also ends with “Hari Om.” So we must be careful of all those temptations along the path. Perhaps on our journey there is a tea shop, and this, and a chapati shop, and on the other side lady dancers, and this and that, a nightclub, and so on, and Kuśaṅga is waiting, isn't it? If you go there, you forget why you came here and where you wanted to go. Mahāprabhujī tells you that when you pay attention to them, you become entangled. You forget to continue. That is why our masters, again and again in their bhajans, and also Swāmījī, repeatedly tell us about satsaṅg. For if we regularly attend satsaṅg, it will always put us back on the path. And you know, satsaṅg is not only once a week in the yoga center. It is even more important what kind of satsaṅg we practice with our own self—how we speak to ourselves, how we judge ourselves, whether we love ourselves, how we meditate, how we think about ourselves. You must first have love for yourself; then you can give love to others and to God as well. So satsaṅg is not limited to a weekly gathering. If possible, we should always be in satsaṅg—watching our thoughts about ourselves and others, our speech about ourselves and others. This is truly self-control. And it is like a staff you need to climb upward. Always check yourself—see how you are, but in a loving way, not a scolding one. You know, when you shout at children, they never listen. But if you give them a little sweet, then they pay attention. So you can also give yourself some sweetness; do something you enjoy. Too much harshness is not good. The middle way is always best. Of course, speaking with others in satsaṅg is also important, especially in times like those we have experienced this year in our yoga groups around the world. Be careful what you talk about, with whom you are talking, and what you are reading. Better still, do not read or speak. Maintain Mauna and chant Om within yourself if you are falling into Kuśaṅga. I think this is an important point, and sometimes we are not sufficiently aware of these things. So, as much satsaṅg as possible—singing, reading, speaking—is wonderful. And we truly have the great blessing of hearing Swamiji personally and through these media, which reach all over the world. You can have his divine darśana, receive his divine words, and listen to them. Do not judge; listen to his words, which are divine and flow from a very, very pure heart directly to you. Now Mahāprabhujī says: If you try to climb to the summit of the mountain without knowing the right technique, you will fall back to the earth. So you must know the correct technique, which you have already learned before attempting the ascent. And he says: without a Satguru you cannot go on the way. You need guidance. You must walk the path, but the Guru is the one who possesses the knowledge and can guide you. His aim is to ensure you do not lose this great opportunity of a human body, this life. He guides you toward perfection, toward liberation. Finally, Mahāprabhujī says: Śrī Devpurījī gave me this knowledge about right guidance, and through the grace of a Satguru you can reach this goal. So, maybe we will sing this bhajan? “Manavadire” is the key phrase in the whole song. “Manavar” means go, and “dire” means slow—thus, “go slowly.” I hope you were all singing on the mountain, on our path to the top. I too was singing. And I remembered what I forgot to mention, so I will tell you now. Another very important thing is this: What is essential when we climb high and it becomes very tough? Yes, physical strength, definitely. But what would you carry with you in your equipment? A rucksack. So, think about the rucksack. It should not have holes, because otherwise you will lose your footing. You should always check your equipment. This means check your mind as you go upward—it is a good practice. You know, corrupt gear—shoes with holes, a rucksack with holes, trousers that do not keep out the water—are no good. But I want something more from you: What would you put into the rucksack? Warm clothes, water, a torch. All of that is correct. But now, whatever we mention on the material level, we will transpose onto the spiritual level. So the torch is actually your knowledge, wisdom, self-confidence, and strengths. The food is spiritual nourishment—mantra, bhajan, satsaṅg with yourself or with others. Now, on a practical note, what would you not take? Someone said, “Not too heavy.” Indeed, you would not put three big rocks of five kilograms each into your rucksack. Why? Because you would be foolish. But we all carry stones in our rucksack. And what are these stones? Anger, greed, bad habits. One particularly huge rock is our past—we carry all our past memories and grievances: “Oh, my mother was like this… I suffered so much… my friend, my children, the teacher, the guru, everyone except me.” This is the heaviest burden of all, far heavier than any food or gear. See, it is not that I tell you this today and tomorrow you simply throw the stone away. I would be happy if you did, but awareness is the main thing. The definition of yoga I love most is “the consciousness that never sleeps,” meaning awareness. So becoming aware sometimes takes just a little nudge. Become aware that our past and our experiences are usually the heaviest burden. They rob us of the strength to go further. Perhaps I can offer a small suggestion at the end here. You are the one walking the path; nobody else walks it for you. You have your shoes, equipment, and your rucksack—and each of us carries a different rucksack. We may all share the same torch and the same food, but the stones we lug around are highly individual. So my wish for every one of us is this: tonight, or in the morning, take up your rucksack, examine what kinds of stones are inside, and then try to throw them out—try to let them go. For this purpose, it can be helpful to do something symbolic, like in a meditation. You can go to a river and first meditate or reflect on what burden you truly wish to place there. Then hand it over to Mother Earth. She accepts everything, and whatever you give her, she is able to transform into another energy. She is the Divine Mother, so you can offer your burdens to the Divine Mother in any form. You may light a real fire—but please do not burn yourself—and place some wood into it. You can do this physically or in meditation. We have a very beautiful meditation in our cakra book, I believe for the Maṇipūra Cakra, where you visualize a fire. Mentally imagine a fire, place pieces of wood beside you, and designate each piece: one for the past, one for anger, one for complexes, or whatever obstacle is weighing down your rucksack. Then mentally put them into the fire and watch until they burn to ashes. Ash is white, so nothing remains. I thank you very much for listening and for joining us on this trip along the spiritual path. I hope you receive a little inspiration. Mother Nature teaches everything, and you can learn from all things. Whatever you do, whatever we do, contains many spiritual lessons—even a simple walk to the mountains or the lakes. God always speaks to us. So I thank you deeply, and I wish you all the very best on your spiritual path. Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇ, Bhagavān, Kī Jai, Viśvaguru, Mahāmaṇḍaleśvara, Paramahaṁsa, Svāmī Maheśvarānandajī, Gurudeva, Kī Jai.