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Hari Om, dear friends. Hari Om, dear brothers and sisters. For those watching on Swāmījī TV, we are here in Střílky. We are a little confused by the weather. I keep feeling as if it is Guru Pūrṇimā, yet it is not even May. The weather is truly beautiful, and you will see that many of our friends here in Střílky are trying to find the shade. Those who were in the sun yesterday look like sannyāsīs—not in their dress, but their faces are completely orange. We have a very nice program here, a Mantra Anuṣṭhāna program. What could be better than being at a Mantra Anuṣṭhāna with Swāmījī? What more should we try to get in life? Today, Swāmījī gave me the duty to speak about mantra. It is something both very hard and very easy. If you ask someone who has a mantra to tell you about it, they will say it is easy. But if you want to truly organize your thoughts and explain mantra, it is very hard, because mantra is almost everything. If we start only with the theory of what a mantra is, it remains dry knowledge. But if you ask a true bhakta, for them, mantra is prāṇa. It is life itself. Yesterday, I tried to organize what I would say about mantra. On one hand, I am very happy to live in the Kali Yuga because in this age we have the opportunity to access a wealth of information from all fields of knowledge. First, it is good to know from Western knowledge, not just about mantra but about the brain, that everything we experience in life is given an emotional color by one part of our brain: the limbic system. When the limbic system is overactive, like an engine running too hot for too long, we see almost every situation in life as a half-empty glass. When you go to bed to sleep, you may have trouble sleeping; you may get sleepiness. Why? Because thoughts are constantly flowing through our mind. In the West, doctors say the best thing for such a state of mind is to try to be aware of your breathing process. Be aware of abdominal breathing. Something repeats, yet something remains constantly the same. In our culture, if you have trouble sleeping, you might try to count sheep. But in yoga, it is said that you become what you think upon. If you constantly count sheep—one sheep, second sheep, third sheep—you have three opportunities: to become a dog, a shepherd (ovčácký psem, the person who tends the sheep), or the sheep itself (ovcí samotnou). In Vedānta philosophy, there is a story: "Oh lion, open your eyes and realize that you are not a sheep, that you are a lion." This is very important for us in yoga. We must take that knowledge from Western culture and science, and through the knowledge of yoga, realize that we have consciousness of breathing, abdominal breath, and we have our mantra. Constantly, as we think and repeat the mantra, we will reach that point which is within the mantra. Our Guru Mantra has, how to say, two parts. The first part is what we want to achieve, and the second part is our prayer to God, to Mahāprabhujī. If you have a mantra from another school, it contains a prayer and greeting, that we may achieve what is stated in the first part. The second part is a prayer, an appeal to God, to Mahāprabhujī, depending on which school your mantra is from, and a greeting or thanksgiving for what we are attaining. It is said that mantra is the essence, the very substance of prayer. How do you feel about mantra? It is like having a balloon filled with helium, a light gas. That balloon is our consciousness. There is wind. Who knows where that balloon will go? But we have a thread and we have a stone. Constantly, the mantra and our mālā—when you repeat your mantra with the mālā, the mālā is that thread and the mantra is like that stone. What keeps our consciousness in one place? You have experience during meditation: thoughts come, but you remain mostly here, not somewhere else in the universe. Thoughts come and change, but you keep coming back here, not anywhere else. Most of you know a story Swāmījī told about a farmer. That farmer went into the forest to chop wood and met a ghost. The ghost said, "Fight with me." The farmer said, "No, please. I am just passing through to get wood. I practice ahiṃsā." The ghost insisted, "You must fight with me. If I win, I will eat you. If you win, I will be your slave." The farmer agreed. He was strong and somehow won the fight. Immediately, the ghost said, "Okay, I am your slave. But you know, in every agreement there is something in the small print." At the bottom, it said: "You must give me a job all the time. If you do not give me a job immediately, I will kill you." The farmer was happy. Imagine having a slave who must work continuously. The ghost was also happy, completely sure that in half an hour he would be free and have a full stomach. The theater began. The ghost started saying, "Give me a job, give me a job." The farmer said, "Cut the grass and put a fence around the grounds." Every job he imagined—making a roof, all work—the ghost finished immediately. The farmer was happier than before. But after a few minutes, he realized he had no more jobs. When you are in panic, when you have a really big problem in life, in that moment you realize, "Oh, I have my guru." Immediately, the farmer ran to the Gurujī. They said around the ashram, "Where is the guru? No such creature as a ghost can enter." This area was a little oasis for the farmer. He explained everything to his Gurujī and asked for help. Gurujī said it was no problem. The farmer replied, "Yes, Gurujī, for you it's not a problem, for me it's a big problem. What should I do?" Gurujī said, "Just tell your ghost to find the biggest tree and plant it in your garden." The farmer told the ghost, and immediately the tree was in the garden. What next? In panic, he asked Gurujī. Gurujī said, "Nothing. Just tell the ghost he has finished his job. His job now is to climb up the tree and then come down. Up and down, up and down. When you have a job for him, call him and give him the job. After finishing, his job is climbing up and down." You know, that farmer is us. That ghost is our mind. All the time, storm... not storm, tree. "Tree" in Croatian is "stablo", but "strom" is tree. It is our spinal column. Climbing up and down is concentration: inhalation, exhalation, the so’haṁ mantra, or repeating our guru mantra. All of us know that if our mind does not have a job, it will constantly try to kill us with stupid, nonsensical thoughts. A víte, že když naše mysl není zaměstnaná, neustále se bude snažit nás zabít, nám ublížit hloupostmi, hloupými myšlenkami. In Croatian, it is said that if you are late coming home, it is better that neither what you think happened, nor what your mother thinks happened, comes to pass, but it is best if what your wife thinks happened does not happen. There is a story of a man who wanted to borrow a bicycle from a friend. On the way to his friend's house, he had constant thoughts. At first, he was completely sure his friend would lend him the bicycle. Slowly, he began to think, "Maybe not, but he must. I lent him something else." All the time, quarreling in his head. In the end, he was so angry that he knocked on his friend's door and said, "Go to hell, you and your bicycle!" How many times in our life do we act like that man? A better question: how many times are we not acting like that man? We have medicine against such thoughts: our mantra. First, what we repeat, we will become. Second, we give a job to our restless mind. If we are constantly relaxed in a queue at the bank, breathing normally with abdominal breath and repeating our mantra, we will not only transform ourselves but also influence the people around us. Perhaps the atmosphere in the bank queue will be much better than thoughts like, "Oh, that lady is so lazy. They must open a second counter..." You know such thoughts. If you look at it this way, mantra is everywhere; it is everything. It is our whole life. We start today with the mantra "Nāhaṁ kartā." If we are truly aware of that mantra, like a yogī teacher, we will not have a problem with our ego. Also, the yoga class will be much, much better. Because it is not "Ahaṁ kartā"—I am the doer—but "Nāham"—it is not me; it is Gurudev who works. Yesterday, Swāmījī spoke, and I hope he will speak today and tomorrow about the many stages of practicing mantra. Someone asked about this during coffee time this morning. When we receive a mantra, it is the same as when we start to read. In the beginning, we read letter by letter: T, A, T, A. After that, TA, TA. Then we read, but our lips move. Later, because we are slow readers, someone might teach a child to put a pen in their mouth so the tongue stops moving, and they start to read without moving the tongue. In the end, some people have the talent, or gain it through practice, to read a book in 10 to 15 minutes. Similarly, in repeating a mantra, there are many stages. But it is not just one stage followed by another after a few months. We all practice together. When you repeat your mantra at home with no one around, you can sing it like a bhajan. Když si opakuje mantru doma, když tam zrovna nikdo není, můžeme jí zpívat jako bhajan. A mantra will transform the entire atmosphere of your home. Also, when you have foolish or perhaps dangerous thoughts... It is a good picture if you have a dog or a small child. If you have a small child—it's not the same as a dog, but a very small child—it is hard to explain things. They do not understand. If you start to explain, a dog and a child will understand only "blah, blah," nothing else. Later, it will be different, but in the beginning, it is almost the same. If they take something dangerous or something petty that could be destroyed, and if you run around the table saying, "Give me, give me," they will think you are playing. They will think, "Oh, this is very precious. It's mine." But what will you do? You will take something else that is not so important, like a key, and say, "Look, look, it's mine." Immediately, they will put the other thing down and try to get what you have. How many times have you had the same situation in your mind? Somehow, not-so-nice thoughts come into your chidākāśa, into your mind, and you constantly try to press them down. But if you press them down, they will come up more, like a balloon under water. The more you press, the more immediately the balloon will rise. What should you do? Just relax. Be aware of that thought and repeat your mantra. Be aware of the mantra, the meaning of your mantra, and simply pray, "Please clean all garbage from my mind." Be aware that mantra is like fire, and that fire will burn everything. Sometimes you have dirt from a cow. If you keep poking it with a stick, it will smell. But if you put it in the sun, in a few hours it will become something very nice for burning, something very clean. If you have such thoughts—"No, no, it's not good that I think about this"—and you press down, press down, but they come up, up... just relax and repeat your mantra. Be aware that your mantra is that sun, and that sun will clean everything. Here at the Anuṣṭhāna, it is also very hard not just to sit but to repeat mantra. I remember many years ago, Swāmījī gave us the duty to repeat a mantra a certain number of times in four or five days. Some of you know this. Some of us were stressed. We had to repeat so many times in such a short period. Instead of relaxing, it was like being in a dentist's chair. But what I experienced is: just relax. Our meditation with mantra is just to relax. When you have a small child who is tired, immediately when they find a lap—mother, father, grandfather, some uncle—they relax and fall asleep. The same happens in meditation. We are here in Střílky, a truly beautiful ashram. When I say it is a beautiful ashram... that sentence is strong, yes. Why? Because in the beginning I said "Strelky," but now Střílky is really... it is so far, but truly Střílky is beautiful. If you are watching the webcast, really, if you have the opportunity, Střílky is a very nice ashram. When you come here, you find peace. You have a nice ashram area, nice trees, everything that brings peace. We have Swāmījī here as well, and that is the lap of the mother. Our duty is just to sit and relax—not laya samādhi, but just relax. Repeat our mantra, and everything will come. Once Swāmījī explained something about meditation that went very deep into my mind. He said he had thought for a long time about why it is so different when Indians meditate versus when Europeans or Westerners meditate. In India, nobody has a problem. In Western countries, you start to meditate and immediately have a problem. Why? Physically, it is the same. Almost all levels are the same. Where is the difference? The difference is that in India, they just relax, repeat the mantra, think about their beloved, and relax. Nothing else. And here in Europe, we think, "I must have a technique. This technique, that technique. I repeat mantra, but I must see this, that." All the time, some job. Once I bought some CDs which I thought at the time were music for meditation, but someone was leading a meditation. Too late, I realized. I put on a CD hoping for some good music—why not? But the best music for meditation is silence. At that time, I thought good meditation required good music for meditation. After a few seconds, it started: "Good day. I am Dr. Dead and Dead. I will lead you into the world of meditation." Okay. But then it began: "Imagine this. Imagine that. Imagine this. Imagine that." Immediately after a few minutes, it was in the garbage. Yes, if you constantly try to imagine something, you are under stress. Just sit, relax, repeat your mantra. Why is it important to think of your beloved? Because when you think of your beloved, you become completely relaxed. Your facial muscles relax, you attain madhurī mudrā, and everyone who looks at you will feel relaxed. But if instead of Madhurī Mudrā, I joke that it is the Gioconda smile—Leonardo da Vinci's Gioconda, the Mona Lisa—if you have that mudrā, you will immediately feel a contraction here in the abdomen. When you think about someone you do not hate but do not like, you will have such a mudrā, you will clench your teeth, and all your muscles will be tense. If someone with such a mudrā, with clenched teeth, writes a book about kuṇḍalinī, they will say kuṇḍalinī is very dangerous. It is not Kuṇḍalinī that is dangerous, but your thoughts. When you want to go to sleep, if you sit in bed and say, "I must dream, I must dream," you will not even relax; you will not sleep. What do you do? Relax. Take a deep inhale and exhale. Be aware of your abdomen and breath. You have your blankets, and you will sleep. After that, you will enter the dream. The same is true with meditation—not sleep, but just relax. You have concentration; be aware of your mantra because the mantra is what leads you. It is like driving at night on a road. What is most important in that moment? You have a light. If you have a light, you will see the way. That light will lead you. In this world, in this māyā, mantra is that light. That light leads us. Mantra is that fire, that sun, which burns all the seeds of our karma. It is good medicine against stress. We will become calm and relaxed. With bhakti, think about our Iṣṭa Devatā and relax. They say in one bhajan: "I will be with my Gurudev, and what happens will happen. If it comes, it comes. If it does not come, it does not come." Do not expect anything. Just relax. On one hand, this seminar, Mantra Anuṣṭhāna, is an excellent anti-stress therapy retreat. But more important than anti-stress therapy, such a program gives us strength for the rest of the year. During the year at home, you have a job, family, relatives. It is better said that you do not have them, but they have you. All the time, everyone wants a part of you. You must come here, you have your duty, your boss has expectations, and you have no time. You have to go there, and you have no time for that. In these moments, when we are here together, especially with our Gurudev, it is like healing. Your problem now is not that you are trying to escape your problems, but that in the moment you step out of this "Vili no kolo" circle—you know the European tradition of the fairy circle. There is a legend in Europe: if you enter this fairy round, you will lose yourself. You may stay not for one life, but for many lives, and you will lose all your friends, everyone, because you will lose time. The same is true in our life. If we step into this fairy wheel, we will be lost. We must step out, view all situations, and after that, we are able to act. Similarly, it is as if you have managed to step aside from it for a few days, because as soon as you get involved in the dance, in the circle, it will overwhelm you. So it is necessary, and now you have the opportunity to step aside, to step away from it. Such a nice weekend—Mantra Anuṣṭhāna or Kriyā Anuṣṭhāna, or just a seminar—when we have more time to just sit, close our eyes, and repeat our mantra without thinking, "Oh, I must go to the market, I must cook, I must wash dishes," is more precious for us. Now we recharge our battery. But what is most important? Not to lose all energy immediately in nonsense when we return home. Try to continue. If you do not have time, do one mālā more than usual. Be aware of what your mantra is. It is not just a political pamphlet. Mantra is my life. Mantra is light. It is okay to repeat it like a parrot, but try to feel this. Not just dry intellectual knowledge, but perhaps through some picture, you will feel what mantra is for you and what mantra truly is. Because of that, I did not want to explain that "man" means mind and "trā" means expansion, because you can read that in every book. But what you feel inside... Do not be in a constant hurry, thinking, "I must know this, I must be first." No, just relax, repeat your mantra, and try to feel what your mantra really is for you. Also, for the rest of our program, just relax, think about your beloved Iṣṭadevatā, and repeat your mantra. And be happy. Once, I also remember Swāmījī saying that if your normal, usual life is not so happy, your spiritual life must be delightful. How will our spiritual life be happy? If we just release... When I was a small child, I watched a movie about animals on television. Many of you also know the film "Poslední výkřik savany" or something like that. What was very interesting to me at that time was how to catch a monkey. In Croatia, we do not have monkeys. For me, it was fascinating: how do you catch a monkey? There was one very clever technique. You must have a hole in a tree. Monkeys like salt. You put a piece of rock salt in that hole. When a monkey sees you have put salt in the tree, it will put its hand inside, grab the salt, and try to pull its hand out. But the hole is small. You can only put your empty hand in. When you grab something, you cannot pull your hand out. Only if you release the salt can you go free. We are in that situation. "It's mine!" And as Swami Vivekānanda said, nature is constantly telling you, "Release this, release." "No, no, it's mine." They take a stick and hit your hand. "No, it's mine, it's mine." Only when you release are you completely free. Our mantra will cultivate us, change us, and make us realize that nothing is mine. Just release, and we will become free. Just relax and be happy. Repeat our mantra, your mantra, and enjoy. Hari Om.