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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 so easy to translate clearly; 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. Advertisements essentially try to make us unhappy by telling us there is something we urgently need. If we are foolish enough to believe this, we become unhappy because we do not yet have it. 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 bit more expensive. This reminds me of a colleague from many years ago. We were both fond of classical music. He was always seeking the best quality and the latest product, which at that time was audio tapes, not yet CDs. He would say, "The test shows this tape is really good." We both used it and were very satisfied with the sound quality. A year later, a new, much better tape was developed, but at double the price. I said, "Sorry, I’m satisfied with this; I don’t need that." 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 deem necessary, though this is individual. What is a necessity for one might be a luxury for another, depending on one’s work, lifestyle, surroundings, and location. I learned something practical from Jainism, one of the world’s religions with many followers in India. They clearly declare that one should limit one’s needs, which is very practical advice. I naturally did this before ever hearing about it theoretically. As a student, I had only the bare necessities. When I started earning money, I was happy to afford things I had desired but could not before. As I earned more, I realized I did not need so much. I had something left to invite people or for other uses. This would be valid for many of us. Our modern lifestyle often puts us in a situation where we think we do not have enough and need even more. We constantly chase something, creating permanent stress. If we compared our lifestyle with that of the majority of people in Asia, Africa, and elsewhere, we would see that even our low needs are still much more than they have. Here, we practically arrive at the point of santoṣa: be content with what life gives you. Swāmījī always expresses the yogic life principle as "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—the constant wanting of more and more. This is a basic principle of desires; they simply have no end unless we end them through a clear decision, such as limiting 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 of our self-inquiry: How much do we long for material things? How attached are we to them? Sometimes you read crazy stories in newspapers: people die, and after weeks, they are found dead in their apartments, which are so full of stuff one can hardly enter. I have read more than one such article. In one case, someone was collecting newspapers, and the entire apartment was full, making movement nearly impossible. I also recall a neighbor in Hamburg many years ago. At that time, Hamburg had public garbage nights where you could put unwanted items on the street, and they would be collected the next morning. During the night, people could take anything they needed, which was good from a recycling perspective. My neighbor was constantly active in different parts of the city on these nights, collecting many useless things he thought he might use one day. His flat was essentially 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 email, stamps are less common, and some people hardly know about them. I remember when I was in New Zealand, they were looking for a center outside. At that time, they did not have one yet. A church building was 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 intended to use it as a museum for watches and clocks. Imagine, he must have collected so many clocks that he needed a big hall to display them all. It seemed 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 life phases, 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 toward the material world. How should our attitude be? In reality, we are here as a guest in a hotel. As said earlier, nothing truly belongs to us. When you go to a hotel, you know the bed, cupboard, and other items 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 toward 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 the attitude that things are given to you but do not belong to you. This attachment is not only a problem in our present life but also has a crucial implication for the future. When we die, what happens? Suppose someone collected stamps or clocks their whole life and even acquired a big hall to exhibit them. At the time of death, what will be in their mind? Most probably these clocks, as their whole life was devoted to them—so much psychic energy, money, and time invested. Now they must leave it 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 of the material world, we have so far only discussed 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 toward the material world and how much we identify with this physical body—and not just the physical body, but also the finer bodies. For example, the thought "I am the owner of these clocks" is not physical but mental, connected to the mental body. This is the biggest problem, and Aparigraha tries to help us with it. What would practicing Aparigraha practically mean for us? We say, "Okay, I shouldn’t be attached; I shouldn’t have so many desires." But what does this mean for me? Again, we must distinguish between householders and sannyāsīs. Regarding attachment, there are two different concepts: vairāgya and tyāga. Vairāgya is non-attachment for householders. It means you can have the things you should have. As a first step, you should not have too much; limit your needs. But non-attachment means not just having little; it refers to your attitude toward what you have. As said, like living in a hotel, you have things at hand but no strong attachment. 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; it is called tyāga. Tyāga means literally 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 that 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 conversing, a messenger ran into the hall shouting, "Fire, 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. This is a good example of who had the vairāgya. The second story is the opposite. A poor man was suffering and asked people for help. They told him about a sādhu living at 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. You come to a poor person. I am myself a beggar. I go to the village to beg for food, so I have nothing. What should I give you? You have to go to rich persons; they may give you something, but not me." The man saw this was true and was very disappointed. He accepted it and left. After about 100 meters, the sādhu called him back, saying a memory had come up. Five or ten years ago, he found a precious stone at the shore and thought it valuable. Having no use for it, he dug a hole and hid it in the sand, thinking maybe one day someone would need it. He offered to find it for the man. After digging a bit, he found the beautiful, big jewel and gave it to him. The man was overjoyed. But after half an hour, he returned. The sādhu, annoyed, said, "Do you still not have enough? I don’t have more than this one jewel." The man, with a humble voice, said, "When I looked at this jewel and saw how valuable it is, but 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 with me." He became a disciple of the sādhu. He realized that all that was previously important for him 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, what is the outcome of practicing Aparigraha perfectly? Honestly, when I first prepared this lecture in Canada, it took me at least a week to understand it, as there seems to be no obvious connection at first glance. Let’s look at Sūtra 39: When someone becomes steadfast in Aparigraha, they gain knowledge of how and from where birth comes. That means they understand reincarnation. The connection is not so obvious. It means that by not being attached to physical things, having a little, and maintaining a loose inner relation to them, one suddenly gains knowledge about the future, past incarnations, etc. 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 asked, "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 her body was born. Implicitly, this statement suggests that I started to exist when this body was born and will cease to exist when it dies. 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 toward the material world, we naturally develop a more distant attitude toward 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 our level of consciousness. When our consciousness is constantly on the physical level, we can only speak about physical things. In fact, there is no physical connection between this body and a past body from 60 years ago, as the physical body dissolves. But the subtle bodies do not dissolve. There is a connection in the subtle bodies; there is knowledge and memory. It depends on which level we are with our consciousness. The more we disidentify with our physical being, the more we can contact the subtle bodies, where memory resides. There is even memory of why we incarnate—our desires, attachments, and karma. That is why we reincarnate. When we reach these finer levels, this knowledge opens up to us. Thus, a seemingly small point can open a door to another level of consciousness. Now, let us sing the bhajan I spoke about. You can invite me to sing if you have a question or perhaps a question about this point. There is a question: Does the process of less identification with the physical body automatically lead to identifying more with the subtle bodies? There is no automatism; it depends on what is important for you. It is all about where we center our awareness. 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 as yesterday and today. No one has ever seen tomorrow, because when tomorrow comes, it is 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. 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.