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We now come to the last of the five yamas, titled Aparigraha. The prefix "A" indicates a negative rule, something we should not do. It is not easy to translate precisely; one could say, "Don't be greedy." A good translation is non-possessiveness. Some also interpret it as not accepting gifts offered to you. When we speak of non-possessiveness, we must clarify its meaning, as there is a difference between non-possessiveness and non-possession. Non-possession would mean giving things away and having nothing. But that is not the meaning here. Non-possessiveness speaks about our attitude towards our possessions. We could express it like this: do not allow your possessions to possess you. We should not be overly attached to our possessions or become dependent on them. This yama concerns our relation to the physical world around us, which is a significant point in our modern, materialistic life. Today, business revolves around advertisement and shopping. Advertisement tries to make us unhappy by telling us there is something we urgently need. If we are foolish enough to believe it, we become unhappy because we do not have it yet. We develop a desire we did not have before, and as long as it is unfulfilled, we feel unhappy. As soon as we acquire it, the advertisement tells us there is now something much better, unfortunately a little more expensive. I recall an example from many years ago with a colleague. We both enjoyed classical music. He was always seeking the best quality, the latest product. At that time, we used audio tapes, not yet CDs. He found a tape that tested very well, so we both used it and were satisfied with the sound quality. A year later, a new, much better tape was developed, but it was double the price. I said I was satisfied and did not need it. For him, however, the old tape suddenly became worthless because something slightly better existed. He could no longer appreciate what had previously made him happy. In this way, our modern society constantly tries to awaken more desires and attachments within us. We surround our lives with a wall of material possessions we believe are necessary. Perhaps the best approach is to think about what we truly need. This is, of course, individual. For one person, something might be a necessity; for another, a luxury. It depends on your work, lifestyle, surroundings, and where you live. I learned about this, for example, from Jainism. It is one of the world's religions; there are quite a lot of Jains in India, but not so many outside. They clearly declare that you should limit your needs. I think this is very practical advice. I naturally did this before I ever heard about it theoretically. As a student, I had hardly the bare necessities. When I started earning money, I was happy to afford things I had always desired. But as I earned more, I realized I did not really need so much. I had something left to invite people or for other purposes. I think this is valid for many of us. Our modern lifestyle constantly brings us into a situation where we think we do not have enough and need even more. We are always chasing something, creating permanent stress for ourselves. If we compared our lifestyle with that of the majority of people in the world—in Asia, Africa, and elsewhere—we would realize that even our low needs are still much more than what they have. Here, we are practically already at the point of santoṣa: be content with what life gives you. Swāmījī always expresses this as the yogic life principle: simple living and high thinking. The quality of life does not depend on material luxury but on our inner attitude. The quality of life depends not on the material luxury surrounding us but on our inner quality. In aparigraha, the main topic is greed. We always want more and more. This is a basic principle of desires; they simply have no end unless we make an end through a clear decision to limit our lifestyle to a certain level. But this greed has become a normal lifestyle and a global problem. All financial crises and many global problems arise from greed. Swāmījī always quotes Mahātmā Gāndhī: "Our world has enough for everyone's need, but not for everyone's greed." So, aparigraha is all about our relation to the material world. This is the point for our self-inquiry: How much are we longing for material things? How much are we attached to them? Sometimes you read really crazy stories in newspapers. People die, and when their apartment is opened weeks later, it is found full of stuff, so full you can hardly enter. I have read more than one article like that. In one case, someone was collecting newspapers, and the whole apartment was full, so you could hardly move. I also remember a neighbor in Hamburg many years ago. At that time, Hamburg had a system where you could put things you did not need on the street for one night, and they would be taken away the next morning. During that night, anyone could come and take something, which from a recycling point of view is not bad. My neighbor was always active in different parts of the city on these nights, collecting many useless things he thought he might use one day. His flat was basically full of garbage collected over the years. It is also common to collect specific items. I myself collected postal stamps, which was quite popular at the time. In the age of emails, there are not so many stamps anymore. I remember when I was in New Zealand, they were looking for a center outside. At that time, they did not have one yet. There was a church building for sale, and our people tried to buy it as a yoga retreat center. Unfortunately, we did not get it. The man who bought it wanted it for a museum of watches. Can you imagine? He must have collected so many clocks and watches that he needed a big hall to display them all. It was like a karmic joke that this was deemed more important than having a yoga center. When we hear such extreme cases, we all smile. But we should take them as inspiration to inquire about our own attitude. Because here or there, in some phases of life, we all have some kind of such craziness. Nowadays, it is more on the computer: people collect movies or photos, accumulating gigabytes, terabytes, and more. For what? So, we must understand it is not about extremes but about our general attitude towards the material world. How should our attitude be? The reality is that we are here as a guest in a hotel. As said earlier, in reality, nothing belongs to us. When you go to a hotel, you know the bed, cupboard, and everything else are not yours; you can use them, but in the end, you must return them and pay the bill. That is the attitude we should have towards this world: nothing belongs to me. It is only given to me for a certain time or purpose. We have a bhajan about this. All this world is just for two days. It is just an assemblage of coming and going, like at a railway station: someone is just arriving, someone is waiting for their train, someone is just departing, and someone has already gone. Arriving means being born, and departing means dying. That is the reality of life. With this attitude, we would not be so attached. Aparigraha means developing this attitude: it is given to you, but it does not belong to you. This attachment is not only a problem in our present life but also has a very important consequence for when we die. Let us say someone collected stamps or clocks their whole life. At death, what will be in their mind? Most probably these objects, because their whole life, psychic energy, money, and time were invested in them. They must leave it all behind. Thoughts arise: who will get it now? I would like to hold on, but I cannot; at least I would like to have it back. Practically, this means we program our future life. Through our desires and attachments, we give direction for our own future. I always say it is like an application to God, and God is merciful. He says, "You want it? Okay, approved." But that means you have to come back. When we have these attachments and desires, we program our future incarnations. We must go one step further. When speaking about the material world, we have so far only spoken about things. But what is the most important material thing for us? Our own body. That is the biggest problem: our attachment and identification with this physical body. It is hardest to leave this behind at death. This goes hand in hand with our attitude towards the material world and how much we identify with this physical body—and not just this body, but also the finer bodies. For example, the thought "I am the owner of these clocks" is not a physical thing but a mental thing connected to my mental body. This is the biggest problem, and aparigraha tries to help us on this point. What would practical aparigraha mean for us? We say we should not be attached and should not have so many desires. But what does this mean? Again, we must distinguish a little between householders and sannyāsīs. When we say attachment, there are two different concepts: vairāgya and tyāga. Vairāgya is non-attachment for householders. This means you can have the things you should have. As a first step, you should not have too much; you should limit your needs. But non-attachment means not just having little, for you can be attached even to a little. It refers to your attitude towards possessions. As I said, like living in a hotel: you have things at hand but no strong attachment to them. For example, King Janaka had all power and riches without limitation, yet he was an enlightened saint with perfect vairāgya. He was not identified with his possessions. This is the quality we must achieve. For sannyāsīs, it is different. There it is called tyāga, which literally means not having things or giving them away. Of course, one needs a certain minimum. Living this in our modern world, especially in the West, is not easy. Our world has changed so much; even I, as a sannyāsin, could hardly do anything without a computer. It depends on culture and surroundings. Traditionally, a sannyāsin is a beggar who has nothing except a small bundle—maybe a blanket and a bowl for food. But again, more important than the outer characteristic—having little or a lot—is the inner attitude. I have two small stories about this. First, a sādhu came to a king. The sādhu had just a small bundle, which he put in a corner. He tried to explain to the king that everything in this world is just material and that we should not be attached, developing vairāgya. The king listened keenly and realized a deep truth in the sādhu's words. While they were still talking, a messenger ran in shouting, "Fire! The palace is on fire!" Interestingly, the king remained completely calm, thinking if it is God's will that the palace burns down, it is okay. But the sādhu jumped up and ran to save his bundle. However little he had, he was attached to it. That is a good example of who had the vairāgya. The second story is the opposite. There was a poor man who was suffering and asked people for help. They told him about a sādhu living by the riverside. Full of hope, he went to the sādhu, greeted him, and explained his problem. The sādhu answered, "Sorry, you misunderstand who I am. I am a beggar myself; I go to the village to beg for food. I have nothing. What should I give you? You must go to rich people; they may give you something, but not me." The man saw this was true and was very disappointed. He accepted it and left. When he had gone about 100 meters, the sādhu called him back. The sādhu said a memory had come up: five or ten years ago, he found a precious stone on the shore. He thought it must be valuable but had no use for it. He dug a small hole and hid it in the sand, thinking maybe one day someone would come who needed it. He offered to try to find it. After digging a little, he found the beautiful, big jewel and gave it to the man. The man was overjoyed. But after half an hour, he returned. The sādhu, a little annoyed, welcomed him by saying, "Do you still not have enough? I don't have more than this one jewel." But the situation had changed. The man said with a humble voice, "When I looked at this jewel and saw how valuable it is, yet for you it had no value at all, I realized how rich you must be. How much you must have that this jewel has no value for you. My request is: please take this jewel back and share a little of this inner richness and wealth which you have with me." He became a disciple of the sādhu. He realized that all that was important before had no value. In other words, just by the renunciation and vairāgya of the sādhu, he influenced the man so much that his whole life turned around. Now we must look at the outcome, the result of practicing aparigraha perfectly. I must tell you honestly, when I first prepared this lecture in Canada, it took me at least a week to understand it, because at first glance there seems to be no connection. Let us look at sūtra 39: "When someone becomes steadfast in aparigraha, then he gains the knowledge of how and from where birth comes." That means he understands reincarnation. The connection is not obvious. It means that when you are not attached to physical things, have little, and maintain a loose inner relation to them, through this you suddenly gain knowledge about your future, your last incarnation, for example. We have already explained it, but now we must bring it to the point. The main physical thing for us is our physical body. This is our identification: this is "I." When someone asks, "Who are you?" we spontaneously answer with our name. This means we identify with the attribute given to this body at birth. If someone says, "I am Andrea," and I ask how long Andrea has existed, she might say 40 years. That means 40 years ago this body was born. Implicitly, the statement is that I started to exist when this body was born; before, I did not exist. And when this body ceases to exist, I will not exist anymore. This is the root of ignorance. As Ādi Śaṅkarācārya said, the thought of "I" and "my" is the root of ignorance. When we develop the aparigraha attitude towards all the material world, naturally we also have a more distant attitude towards our own body. Through this, our consciousness can rise to a higher level. If I ask what you were in your last life, usually you cannot answer because you do not remember. This depends on your level of consciousness. When our consciousness is always on the physical level, we can only speak about what is physical. In fact, there is no connection between this physical body now and the last physical body from 60 years ago, because the old physical body dissolves. But the fine bodies do not dissolve. There is a connection in the fine bodies; there is knowledge and memory. It depends on which level we are with our consciousness. The more we disconnect, or disidentify, from our physical being, the more we can contact the finer bodies. In the fine bodies, there is memory—even memory of why we incarnate. We spoke about that: it is our desires, attachments, and karma that cause us to reincarnate. When we reach these finer levels, this knowledge opens up to us. So, you see, such a seemingly small point can open a door to another level of consciousness. Let us sing the bhajan I spoke about. You can invite me to sing if you have a question, or perhaps you have a question about this point now. There is a question: Does the process of less identification with the physical body automatically lead to identifying more with the finer bodies? There is no automatism, but it depends on what is important for you. It is all about where we center our awareness, what is important for us, and where we send our attention. It means when you truly begin to concern yourself less with material comfort. This is only one point to see in the context of others, but I think it is quite important. Develop the attitude of living in a hotel. This is described in the bhajan. "Dodin" means two days. It says our life here is just an assemblage for two days. Swāmījī always explains these two days: one is yesterday and one is today. No one has ever seen tomorrow, because when tomorrow comes, it is again today, and then today is already yesterday. So, we should not speculate about the future but live in the present. The melody is the same as the bhajan we sang before. It is all a game of coming and going. "Nāśa" means destruction. "Nāśvara" means impermanent. All this world is impermanent. Therefore, praise the Lord. Brahmanandajī says, "Oh my disciple, listen. All this is just a game of coming and going. Yesterday you came, tomorrow you go." Siddhi Pradhān Bhagavān Kī Jai. Koī challā dayā koī jāve, Koī gathrī bandh sī dāve, Koī karatīyār akelā, Sap challā chalikā akelā. Jodhin kajak me mela, sap chala chali kakela. ... Kar pāpa kapaṭa chalamāyā, dhanalāka karora kamāyā. Dhara pāpa kā patha chala māyā, dhanalāka karora kā māyā. Saṅga chalena eka aḍelā, sapa chalā ca līkā kīlā. Jodhin kā jag me melā, sapa calā calī kā kelā. Sutta nāra māta pitta-bhāi, kayaṃta-sahāyaka nahi. Jambhare pāpa kā telā, sapa calā calī kā kelā. Jambhare pāpa kā telā, sapa calā calī kā kelā. Jodhin kā jag me melā, sapa calā calī kā kelā. Yenāśvara Sapa Saṁsāra, Karabhajana Īśa Kapyāra Brahmanandaka he sūncela Sapa chalachalika kela Jodhin kajak me mela Sapa chalachali kakela Svāmī Pramānandī Mahārāj.