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Part 1: The Secret of OM Thank you very much for the warm welcome. I am happy to be here for the second time, now concluding a kind of Austria tour in Vienna. I was a bit surprised there is a webcast, but that's fine. I have covered this topic once before in a webcast in English, and today we are doing it in German. So, I also welcome everyone joining us on the webcast. The topic is the secret of OM. It sounds a bit like making something special out of it, a mystery. But in this case, it truly must be said this way because OM is a mystery, remains a mystery, and even after this workshop, it will still be a mystery. If someone says, "I will now explain OM to you," you don't even need to listen, because it is not that simple. One can at most try to approach this mystery very cautiously, but it will always remain a mystery. Svāmījī has already spoken quite a lot about it. Ultimately, what I am trying to convey to you is really just the essence of Svāmījī’s teaching. OM is the origin of the entire universe. OM is the origin of all mantras. OM is the origin of life; OM is truly the primal source of everything. OM is the divine primal sound. When we chant OM in yoga classes, every student, even those who have never practiced anything before, immediately senses that something special is happening. That is because one comes into connection with this truly existing OM. Strictly speaking, one cannot really sing OM in the sense that I now produce OM. That would mean that in the moment I do not chant OM, OM is not there. That is actually not true at all. When we chant OM, we are essentially trying to connect with the truly existing OM, to resonate with it. The effect of chanting OM is not our own effort in singing now, but rather the impact of this truly existent OM. Therefore, before we start with too much theory, let us simply do it. But try with great awareness. Normally we chant OM in rhythm, usually three times. What is very beautiful, a special experience, is when we do this as a group. I experienced that many years ago with Richard Field, a Sufi master, in Hamburg. It was a really large hall with several hundred people, and it was incredible. Now, unfortunately, there aren’t that many of us, but let's see if we can perhaps experience a little of it anyway. What we will do now is all sing OM together for some time—perhaps about 5 minutes, maximum maybe 8 or 10 minutes, but I won't specify exactly. We will conclude not individually, but as a group. That means we all sing OM together, and each one breathes in the way they wish. Through the overlapping of the various individual OMs, a group OM emerges—a long, continuous OM. You can sing a little higher, a little lower, or however each of you wishes, but listen to each other. We have a genuine group process. At some point, as a group, we will decide that we are now coming to the conclusion, and then it will gently come to a close without me saying anything special. It is important that everyone understands. If an individual keeps singing on their own, they can essentially disrupt the whole process. Each one breathes individually, has their own rhythm, and then sings along again. Others have a different rhythm. It will overlap like a constant sound, a continuous, great OM. It can also happen that it is louder here at times, and louder there at other times—almost coming to an end, then becoming loud again. But at some point, we will stop together. Let us close our eyes and attune ourselves inwardly to this truly existing OM, with which we will now try to connect as a group. Let us conclude this with three times OM. (After the chanting) You gave up very quickly. But when one is not completely alone... You can also do that for a longer time. It’s really good when many are together in a confined space. Truly, it can then be a very powerful process. Now, did you feel something of the OM when we stopped? That is actually the important thing here. Essentially, when we chant OM, we are, so to speak, actualizing it, making it conscious, producing it loudly, externally, physically, perceivable by our physical ears. But in reality, it is there all the time. In Rāmrī Prāṇāyāma, you also do a kind of humming. This is actually a kind of introduction into Nāda-Yoga, where one listens to the inner sounds—not producing them, but listening. It is meditation on the inner sounds. One begins with the gross sound, for example, the pulse or the breath, then moves to ever subtler sounds. Ultimately, where does one arrive? At the last, the subtlest. That is indeed the OM. I know people to whom this has truly happened in meditation. But it must be very quiet there, a very subtle vibration, so that one can experience the OM—not that one creates it, not even as a resonance of the singing, as we have just done now, as if it lingers, but it is simply there. OM is a mantra. It is, so to speak, the root mantra of all mantras. Where do the mantras come from? Who makes them? Who invents them? Or do they just come up with them? A true mantra cannot be made. One who creates a mantra, that is actually not a mantra in the precise sense. Mantras cannot be made, assembled, or created. Mantras are a reality. They already exist. They are God-given. We have a multitude of mantras—well-known mantras, recognized mantras: OM, Sohaṁ, the Gāyatrī Mantra, and so many mantras. Where do they come from? They have always been experienced at some point in meditation by the Ṛṣis, by the Yogīs. This is called Mantra Dṛṣṭi or Śruti. Dṛṣṭi means seeing. That means, in meditation, they have seen the mantra, or Śruti—they have heard it, or both. They have experienced it. You can experience a mantra, but you cannot make it, develop it, or anything like that. And so it has, so to speak, been passed down from master to disciple through the centuries and eventually reached us. Mantras are a reality, a divine reality that can reveal itself. Basically, this could happen to any one of us at any time—that we become, so to speak, a mantra-dṛṣṭi or śruti. That means that in deep meditation we experience a mantra. But that does not mean that we have done it. The entire Vedas actually originated in this way. If you look at the Vedas, in Jaden, in the library, we do have them. There it always says Ṛṣi so-and-so, Ṛṣi so-and-so, at every section. One naturally thinks spontaneously that this is the author who did it, but that is not true at all. He is the one who wrote it down, who, so to speak, brought it into the tradition. He is the one who experienced it. These Ṛṣis, who wrote down or transmitted the mantras, did not create them themselves, but they experienced them. Mantras are a divine revelation, and this is especially true for OM. OM is the primal mantra. OM is the origin of the entire universe. There is practically no sacred scripture in which OM is not used in one form or another. There is no mantra—at least Svāmījī says no true mantra can exist without OM. As far as I know, all the mantras that Svāmījī gives as mantra initiation always begin with OM. Is this an exception? Does anyone have a mantra from Svāmījī that does not contain OM? The essence of a mantra is the name of God. The name of God can be in two different forms, either Nirguṇa or Saguṇa. Nirguṇa means formless, not a specific historical aspect of God, so to speak, but simply the divine, pure consciousness. Or in a concrete form, a specific God, such as Mahāprabhujī, Kṛṣṇa, Rāma, Jesus. This is then the specific name, the specific Saguṇa aspect of God in the mantra. The mantras that Svāmījī gives usually have both: Nirguṇa and Saguṇa. Some mantras, for example, also include Sohaṁ. Sohaṁ is also Nirguṇa, formless. But then we usually have either Mahāprabhujī’s name or Śrīdevapurujī’s name or perhaps other names of God that encompass a specific form of God. Almost all the Upaniṣads, the sacred scriptures of India, speak about OM in one way or another. But there is an Upaniṣad that is entirely dedicated to OM: the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad. It sounds a bit strange because it reminds one of the frog—Maṇḍūkya Āsana. That means there must have been a saint named Maṇḍūkya. He must have meditated in a certain posture. I don’t know the exact background, but in any case, it is not the name of the frog, but the name of a saint. So, not loud, but not as if a frog wrote the Upaniṣad. It is beautifully said that the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad is at once the shortest and the most essential Upaniṣad. That means, if you meditate on just this one Upaniṣad, that should actually be sufficient for God-realization. If it doesn’t work out, well, okay, then perhaps you should meditate on the ten principal Upaniṣads. If one still hasn’t managed it, then on the 30 most important Upaniṣads. And if it doesn’t quite work out, well, then through all 108 Upaniṣads. But the first and actually sufficient one should be the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad. I have been engaged with this topic for a very long time. Even before I became a Svāmījī, in 1993, I once gave a seminar on mantra and also on OM. Back then, I had already made a translation from the texts, from the sources available to me—a German text of the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad. It just came to my mind because whenever I am on the road now and speak about mantra or OM, it is always in English. Over the last two or three days, I took the effort to sit down once more and prepare a new translation for you, based on my current understanding of the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad. Do you have them? They should have been distributed by now. Yes, could someone please take care of making sure that everyone gets this in their hands now? We urgently need this now because I actually want to go through this text with you. That is why the board is here. The Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad is very short. It has only twelve ślokas, but everything is essentially contained within them: our entire life, our entire consciousness, all the various states of consciousness. The Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad belongs to the Atharva Veda and is a special Upaniṣad also in the sense that one of the four Mahāvākyas is found in this Upaniṣad. You know the Mahāvākyas; they are, so to speak, the great, the special mantras. Each Veda is associated with a Mahāvākya, and the Mahāvākya of the Atharva Veda is found precisely in the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad. This is, so to speak, in the second verse—the second śloka of the Upaniṣad: "Ayam Ātmā Brahma." This Ātmā is Brahman. So this is a special point, that here we find one of the Mahāvākyas in the Upaniṣad. Now, does everyone have a text? Good. As I said, this is now my translation, and I take full responsibility for it. I have made every effort, to the best of my knowledge and conscience and by consulting many sources, to translate it as accurately as possible. Ultimately, it cannot truly be translated. One cannot translate a sacred scripture. Even translating the Bhagavad Gītā is very, very difficult, almost impossible. But I have made the effort because I know you would like it here in German. And I can still speak a little German. I have already had a week to reactivate my German. Well, so, OM—this word encompasses all of this, that is, the entire universe. To explain: everything that was in the past, that is in the present, and that will be in the future—all of that is OM. And that which exists beyond these three times, that too is OM. All this is Brahman. Brahman is a typical term from the Vedas and Upaniṣads. In the Vedas, we do not so much find the various aspects of God, which we usually have in the form of stories—Kṛṣṇa, Śiva, and so on—but in the Vedas, it is actually mainly spoken about Brahman, God. Brahman cannot be translated, but actually the simple translation "God" comes closest to it. That which has no specific qualities, the formless God, the one God. It does not matter at all what you call Him, or how you come close to Him, by whichever path that may be. Ultimately, everyone who experiences God experiences a reality. As Svāmījī always says, there is one truth, one reality, and no one can change it. No philosophy can change it. Whether you call them this or that, it doesn’t matter. Brahman is not a specific name of God in this sense, but simply refers to the divine, pure, universal, highest divine consciousness. We cannot really say anything more specific about that. The main message of the Mahāvākyas, the main message of all the Upaniṣads, is essentially always about the unity of Ātman and Paramātmā. That means, from our individual soul—if we want to put it that way (it doesn’t fit perfectly)—but the divine aspect, so to speak, within us, the individual and the universal Paramātmā or Brahman. This is precisely the message here, and this is the essence of this Mahāvākya: "This Ātmā is Brahman." That means, simply put, one could say my soul is one with God. Only the term Ātman, as Svāmījī often emphasizes, is not truly translatable as "soul." For example, one speaks of a small village, a village of 100 souls. That means you now count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and reach 100. You cannot count the Ātman. Ātman is the divine quality within me, but it is not different from the divine quality within you and you. Therefore, I actually cannot say it is now 1, 2, 3, but it is still 1. I always give the example of the ocean and the wave. The wave identifies itself with its form as a wave, and from this arise many problems. Just as we identify with our individual existence as "I" and my body and my mind and all my qualities. But that is not the reality. What is reality? What is the wave really? Water. And that is the other wave—also water. So, the breath of the wave would be the water. That is what it consists of. The divine quality of the wave would be, so to speak, the water. But the divine quality of the next wave beside it is also water. One cannot say now, two waters. One water, two waters. There are 100 waves, there are now 100 waters. There is no plural of water. I mean, in Austria that sometimes happens: "Give me some water." Then I always say, rather give me two waters. You can give yourself two bottles of water, but not two waters. That means, it is the same water, and it is exactly the same water in the other wave as well. And this is the important point now, this is what the Mahāvākya here is about: It is the same water throughout the entire ocean. The water of one wave is no different from the water in another wave, nor at all from the water of the entire ocean. And that is precisely the statement of the Mahāvākyas: the unity between Ātman and Paramātmā, between the seemingly individual, which in reality is precisely not individual, and the universal. That means the divine consciousness within me is just as divine as the divine consciousness in God. There is actually no difference. And that is actually what it is about—that we should recognize this. The entire Vedas, the entire Upaniṣads, and especially the Mahāvākyas are aimed at this one realization. For when we have that, that is enough. That is then called self-realization or God-realization. That means, when the wave realizes, "I am water," that is self-realization. And when she finally realizes, "Oh, this is the same water as in all the waves and in the entire ocean," that is God-realization. It is that simple. Let us realize, waves and waves, let us realize that we are water. Drops and dripping. Yes, now in this Upaniṣad it is somewhat elaborated. That is why I have something here to write with, so that we can try to make it a bit more tangible, so to speak, even from the perspective of our intellect—although it is actually not possible, but a little bit. Now the Upaniṣad helps us with this. For it says, this Ātman has four aspects. When I read that for the first time—well, now over 20 years ago—I was very astonished. I was thinking, how can one now divide God into four aspects? That seems strange. But now it truly does. And indeed, these aspects can already be recognized in the form of the Sanskrit symbol. ... builds an ashram in Jaden. That means, the OM as we usually know it is actually like a 3 with a rightward tail. This is the OM symbol as we usually know it. However, this is not so common in India. This is a variation of OM. The more common OM, which you see, for example, when you buy something in life made of wood or metal or so, you actually always have this form. That means, the difference is only here on the right; this part is mostly round. With us, it flows more like a wave. And here you can already see these four aspects he mentions, graphically. That means, we have on the left side, the left part that looks like number 3—that is actually the "A." Then here on the right we have this tail or this curl, which actually turns the "A" into a "U." And then we have here above, now in Western terms, what I once spoke of—the musician. What do we call this here? What is it called in music, Shanti? You must know that. I am just reflecting. Ah, you are reflecting right now. Already forgotten. An eighth, a quarter. No, no,... no. That is a fermata. That means, normally in music you always have a very clear notation of how long a note should be: one beat, two beats, an eighth, a quarter, and so on. And more so towards the end, when it must be endured, it depends on the conductor how long he wishes to sustain it. That can be 10 seconds or even 30 seconds. That means letting the sound resonate for an indefinite period of time. So, within this sign, the fading away is already contained. And this is exactly "A," "U," just as we sang earlier up above. At some point, it faded away. We have, so to speak, sung a long fermata. The sound continued on and on, and at some point, it faded away. By the way, we now have that included in our logo as well. At that time, I did ask, I want it that way. We now also have that included in our logo. This is now called Chandra Bindu in Hindi. Does it suit you? Chandra, the sign of the crescent moon, and Bindu, the point—and connected with the Bindu. And here we have precisely this Bindu. What connection do you know? Bindu? Bindu Cakra. That means it is translated either as point or as drop—dry in the sense that the Bindu-Cakra is precisely the origin of the divine nectar, the Amṛta. Amṛta literally translates as immortality, as one says in German: immortality, eternity. That means, this immortality, eternity we have here, so to speak, in the OM. Immortality comes through OM. OM is connected with the Bindu. So here you practically have the "A" sound, here you have the "U" sound, and here you have the "M," this fading away, this Śānti, so to speak. And then, of course, there is a new quality when all three come together. Then you no longer have "A" or "U" or "M." This is a new quality. This is the fourth. These are exactly the four points he means: "A" and "U" and "M" and the quality that changes when all three come together as OM. Therefore, one can sing OM as "Aum," emphasizing the individual elements more, but we usually do not sing it that way, and that is actually correct, because we emphasize more the new quality that arises when this is one now. So, and he analyzes this now twice here: first from the three states of consciousness that we know, and the fourth, which we do not know; and then exactly as I have just indicated, from the letters "A," "U," "M" and OM as a whole. The first aspect is called Vaiśvānara. Another term, which sometimes even appears in the Upaniṣads, is Viśva, the universe. We usually know it as the universe, but it is the consciousness of the universe. His domain is the waking consciousness, the state in which we are now—unless someone has already fallen asleep. But I believe we are all still in Vaiśvānara or Viśva. So his domain is the waking consciousness. It is aware of the external objects, has seven limbs and 19 openings, and experiences the gross objects. There is nothing stated here in the Upaniṣad about what exactly these seven and nineteen are. One must now meditate on this or look it up. I tried to combine both because I was not completely satisfied with the explanations I found. So, what is clear is that in waking consciousness we are aware of the external, that is, of physical objects. And he says, he experiences the gross elements. Yes, that which I can touch, which I can hear, which I can perceive physically through my five senses. What I can taste, smell, and touch is now, so to speak, my object in waking consciousness. And the explanation of the seven limbs and 19 openings that I refer to is the correct one. The seven limbs are usually said to be the five elements plus two others. But then I finally realized, there are not just five elements, but seven. Do you remember? Oh yes, I actually wanted the Chakra book again, I had asked for it. Could you perhaps briefly bring up the chakra book again? Do you remember Svāmījī’s teachings about the cakras? We are talking about the Mūlādhāra Cakra; the element is the earth element. Then Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra; the element is the water element. Then Maṇipūra Cakra; the element is the fire element. Then Anāhata Cakra; the element of air. Viśuddhi Cakra; Ākāśa or space. But Ākāśa is actually better, because space sounds so empty. Ākāśa is more; it is the one with energy or consciousness, actually the space filled with prāṇa, the space filled with divine consciousness. These are the five elements that are, so to speak, close to us, that stand near. But if we look now, we still have more cakras and therefore also more elements. And that, if I remember correctly, is the next one after the Agni Cakra, which is Anupāda or something like that. Does anyone know this by heart? Yes, here. So the element of the Agni Cakra is called Anupāda Tattva by Svāmījī. And the element of the Sahasrāra Cakra Bindu is now omitted here. The element of the Sahasrāra Cakra is Ādi. And we already understand that. We have Ādi Anādi in many bhajans: that which is from the beginning and for eternity, which is, so to speak, without beginning and without end—what is eternal, the original Tattva, the primal Tattva. And the Anupāda, that is just so subtle that we cannot perceive it and therefore normally do not speak about it. But I think that is what is meant here. These are, so to speak, the elements; Tattva means the elements, the elements from which we are made and with which we, so to speak, operate. And the openings—these are now, so to speak, the instruments or the openings through which we now act and operate. And so now they are named, and in fact everyone agrees on what these 19 openings are, namely: the 5 Karma-Indriyas, the 5 Jñāna-Indriyas—that is, the 5 organs of action, the 5 organs of perception, which we usually simply call the sense organs; then the five prāṇas, the five main prāṇas (there are actually ten, but the five main prāṇas: Prāṇa, Apāna, Samāna, Vyāna, Udāna); and then the four antaḥkaraṇas, the mental functions: Manas, Buddhi, Citta, Ahaṅkāra—that is, our mind, our consciousness, our intellect, and our ego. But not in a negative sense now, rather our ego-consciousness, with which I identify myself as a wave, as distinct from the wave beside me: "I am I and you are you." This has nothing to do with ego in that sense yet, but it is indeed the origin of the ego. From this ultimately arises our egoism. But here it is still, so to speak, scientific: that which distinguishes me from the others. So, in my opinion, these are the correct explanations for what is not explained in the Upaniṣad itself. Then he moves on to the second aspect, the second state of consciousness, and he calls it Taijasa. He says that this is active in the dream state. It is aware of the inner objects, has again seven limbs and 19 openings, and experiences the subtle objects. That means, when we fall asleep now, we move to another level of consciousness: the astral plane, subtle plane. That means, for example, if I now, before falling asleep, I know exactly whether I am lying on my left side or on my right side. But if we have fallen asleep now and are dreaming, we no longer know that. That means we no longer have a connection with our physical body. We no longer know whether the window is open or closed as long as we are asleep. That means we move to another level of perception, where the subtle objects reside. That is what he says. So this is a pure level of consciousness. If a lion attacks you in a dream, in reality it is not a lion at all. It is only the thought of a lion, the image of a lion. Part 2: The Three States of Consciousness and the Fourth Although he can inspire fear just as much as if a real lion were coming through the door right now, in reality, all of this is only on the astral plane. These are, so to speak, the subtle elements that are emphasized here. Then there is the third aspect of Prajñā, or Pragya—Swāmījī would probably say Pragya. This is a question of transcription, so it is called either Prajñā or Pragya. Its domain is deep sleep. This is a state in which one has no desires and no dreams. Here, all experiences have merged into an undifferentiated mass of consciousness. He is filled with bliss and is the gateway that leads to dreaming and waking. Now, we can try to systematize this for ourselves. We want to separate, as mentioned. What is the name of the first area? Viśva. And what consciousness is that? The waking consciousness. I’ll simply write 'waking'. Then the second: Taijasa. And what is that? The dreaming state. I’ll write 'dreaming'. And the third? What is it called? Prajñā or Pragya. I’ll write it in parentheses as Swāmījī would probably write it. We also have an example: Ajña Cakra, and we then call it Ajña Cakra. And Jñāna, we then pronounce it Jñān. It is just a different pronunciation; it is naturally the same word. That is deep sleep. Swāmījī often explains this by saying that he is not speaking of waking, dreaming, or deep sleep, but rather of consciousness or waking consciousness. And what would Swāmījī say here? Subconscious. And here? Unconscious. Perhaps we should calmly write that down as well, because Swāmījī often says it like that: the subconscious and the unconscious. What is stored in the subconscious? Swāmījī always says this again and again. In the subconscious, our experiences from this life are stored, and in the unconscious, the experiences from previous lives, which we normally do not know—hence 'unconsciousness'. This unconsciousness or deep sleep is indeed highly interesting and somewhat confusing when we look at the text. There is actually another śloka that comes with it. As I said, the third aspect, deep sleep, is a state in which one has no desires and no dreams. We can relate to that. Here, all experiences have united into an undifferentiated mass of consciousness. That means consciousness is present. So this is not unconsciousness in the sense that we would have no consciousness at all; in that case, we would be, so to speak, dead. That is not the state. Consciousness is already present, but not consciousness of something concrete. It is, in a way, an undifferentiated mass—like when you shape forms out of clay and eventually gather everything together into one heap. You no longer have any forms, but the substance is still there. One must imagine that there are no longer any concrete perceptions of something specific, describable, experiential, or desirable. But consciousness as such is still present. And it is filled with bliss. Consciousness is indeed the divine consciousness. But now comes the "but": it is the gate that leads to dreaming and waking. Actually, it would be wonderful if we could always remain in this state of bliss. How do we experience that? How do we actually know? Normally we can’t really remember anything concrete, because one can remember a dream—something concrete, like swimming or flying. But here, there is nothing concrete. There is only a mass of consciousness, nothing one could truly remember. And yet, in a certain way, we remember that in the morning one is fresh. Where does that come from? It does not come from dreaming. The dream is actually somewhat like spiritual digestion. What was a bit too much during the day and occupied our minds, we chew over again at night so that we can let it go. Sometimes our dreams are therefore very intense. But that is not what we truly draw our strength from. That comes when we are in deep sleep. Experiments have been conducted on this. If one were to constantly awaken people just as they enter deep sleep, that would be hellish. Then you are completely exhausted the next morning; you basically did not sleep at all. That means, in reality, in deep sleep—which is the most important part for us—we go, so to speak, to the divine refueling station. We are very close to this divine consciousness and are experiencing this bliss. And that is what we also remember in the morning when we say, "I have slept well." Why do we say that we have slept well and not poorly? It is not because of back pain. This has to do with the fact that we have replenished ourselves with this divine energy, with this connection. But there is a but: this is the gate. The gate that leads to dreaming and waking. That means, what leads back to the dream state and our waking state. Why do we have to go back? Why do we even come out of there again? Why don’t we just stay? It is something very concrete that, so to speak, compels us to come out of it again: our karma. We have set ourselves a task; there is still something we have not completed. "Okay, so you have opened up, now continue, now go on." That means this is why we return again to the dream state and to the waking state, so that we can continue to work here on this Earth, namely Karmabhūmi: experiencing karmas, generating karmas, and working through karmas. For in that state, we are not yet liberated. It is actually a state of bliss combined with ignorance. That is the problem. We are still just as ignorant as before when we awaken. If this were, so to speak, Samādhi, then we would be enlightened upon awakening. Or we would not wake up at all; we would remain directly in Samādhi. That means it is quite interesting. Now you can take another look at the next śloka. This still actually refers to that Prajñā, the deep sleep. "He is the Lord of all. He is all-knowing. He is the inner observer." Here, the word Antaryāmī really appears in the text. "He is the origin of all. From him all beings arise, in him all beings dissolve." If you look at it this way, take it out of context, you would actually think that we are talking about divine consciousness here. I also found an interpretation on the internet where someone actually reversed it, so to speak, separated this śloka from the previous one and said that it already points to the next, but I don’t believe that is true. The text doesn’t really suggest that. It is yet another explanation of this Prajñā, this deep sleep state, to make clear that we are actually already truly connected to this divine consciousness. But our problem is that there are still karmas. Our problem is that this experience of divine consciousness is overshadowed by ignorance, and therefore we have to come out of it again. And then, because it is also undifferentiated, we cannot really take anything concrete with us. So, in a way, we go to the divine gas station, stay very close to this divine consciousness, but then have to leave again. This is what we need every day to recharge ourselves. So here we have now described the three states of consciousness that we all know and experience, indeed all 24 hours—I hope no one works too long. That means, within 24 hours we constantly move back and forth through these three states of consciousness, from the first to the second, to the third, to the second, to the third,... to the second, to the first, and then we awaken. Okay, the next day begins. Back and forth. And by now there is also a great deal of dream research and sleep research, scientific Western sleep studies on this subject, which investigate what actually happens in the dream, what happens in the brain, with the eye fluttering and the deep sleep phases and so on. There is already a lot of Western research on that. But where there is no research on it, that is the next step. And now it becomes interesting for us. The fourth aspect is called Turīya, or in Sanskrit, the original text uses the word Caturtha. It simply means "the fourth," and Turīya is the common term, which essentially also means number four. So this would now be what we have here as the fourth aspect. This is a term that we sometimes use in yoga, but mostly not. What other term is usually used instead, the one we normally use? Superconsciousness. Actually, normally we speak there about Samādhi. And more in the Buddhist context, is there another term? Nirvāṇa. That is essentially the very same thing. So whether we are now speaking about Samādhi or Nirvāṇa or Turīya, sometimes even together as Turīya Samādhi, to make it perfectly clear. So Turīya, literally speaking, actually just means number 4: the fourth state. That makes sense because you really cannot say much about it. The first three states are, so to speak, ordinary states of consciousness, but this fourth one is entirely different. And that is why one can hardly say anything about it. We are now speaking here about the divine consciousness. To describe it really isn’t possible at all. So now, the author, the saint who wrote the Upaniṣad, is trying here to make it somewhat tangible for us. He says: "This is neither the consciousness of the inner world, nor that of the outer world, nor that of both worlds." So he makes it clear: it is not our waking consciousness; it is not the subconscious where we dream; nor is it both together. It is not an undifferentiated mass of consciousness. That means it is neither the third state, nor this unconsciousness or deep sleep consciousness. Not that either. So we still know nothing, but at least we already know what it is not. This is precisely the way in which the Divine is most often described in the sacred scriptures, by always excluding certain things: "Not this, not this, not this." Nor ordinary consciousness nor unconsciousness. So that means: not an ordinary consciousness, nothing that we are already familiar with. Whatever state you may have experienced in some way, it is certainly not that. Nor unconsciousness, so to speak, no consciousness at all. Not that either. It is invisible, beyond ordinary experiences. It is not perceptible. That means many things can be, so to speak, intuited through their effects. One can draw conclusions. For example, we may find electricity very difficult to understand. But we can say, if I switch something on, then the lamp lights up, or the fan starts to turn, or it becomes warm. That means we still do not know exactly what it is, but we can already get a sense of it through its effect. But here it is said: no, not here. It is beyond such ordinary experiences. It is imperceptible. That means no chance with your sense organs. So it is not only simply invisible, but it is in no way perceivable, neither through the ears nor by any other means. And therefore it is indefinable and indescribable. That means he is now trying to describe it and says it simply doesn’t work. Actually, the text should end here. "It is the unique essence that is unique," hence the word 'eka' also appears there. So it is one. It is not dual. It is one. And indeed, the one very special, unique essence of divine consciousness. Beyond the world of appearance. Appearance now in a broader sense: not only physical appearance, but also astral appearance, mental appearance, whatever it may be. It is peace. It is divine bliss. And here it is interesting: the word for divine bliss is not Sukha or Ānanda, as we would normally expect, but here the word is actually Śiva. The word translated here as bliss, and everyone translates it that way, is Śiva. Śiva means bliss. Beyond duality. Here, the original text uses the word Advaita. Where do we know this from? From Vedānta. We distinguish between different forms of philosophy: Dvaita, Viśiṣṭādvaita, and Advaita philosophy. Advaita Vedānta, represented by Ādi Śaṅkarācārya. That means, with Non-Duality, it usually avoids 'unity', because that is again an attempt to describe it; it says it is not dual. This is a challenge for us when we try to understand this now, because our language is dualistic. We can only describe something and then understand it when we make a statement about it. So I say, for example, you are a man or a woman, you are old or young, you are white or green or fast or slow or whatever—some qualities. As always, we have to say something and thereby exclude something else. That is duality. Our entire thinking is based on language, and is therefore dual. That means, in fact, we cannot really conceive of Advaita. We cannot speak it, cannot describe it, we cannot even think it, because our thinking is based on language. The word itself is already a challenge for us. Basically, there is something to say again, but what you think or can say—that is not it at all. Something beyond that. So, it is peace, divine bliss beyond all duality. And that is the Ātman. "And the sages think, this is what there is to realize." Here we now have the word Ātman appearing. This is consciousness, the state of consciousness Ātman. If we had already experienced this state, realized it, well, then we would have realized our Ātman, then we would already be enlightened. Then we would no longer be sitting here, but there. That is why it is said: this is what the wise think or teach us, this is what is to be realized, this holds true. We know and experience the first three states of consciousness, although the third one is usually very unconscious and remembered only vaguely. But at least we say, "I have slept well, I feel good, I am fresh." This is, so to speak, the kind of remembrance we still have at all of it. We are, so to speak, already touching this divine consciousness; we are very close to the Ātman. And this description of the subconscious, unconscious deep sleep state is quite similar, but unfortunately, it is the gateway to the other two, and we must always return. That means, basically, we are now moving, so to speak, from the gross consciousness—our waking consciousness in which we currently reside. That is the coarsest, most superficial. And this is where most people get stuck. And where Western science usually gets stuck; it actually deals only with the gross material. Then we move on to the next level. It becomes subtler there, the astral. But concrete forms are still present: concrete experiences in dreams. Then we move on to the next level. There we are already very close to the divine consciousness. And actually, we only need to take one step further. But we do not create that. And time and again, it goes back. We are, so to speak, oscillating back and forth and unable to take the final step. That is what it is about. And the wise say: now we finally take this last step. Now comes the second part of the Upaniṣad, where he directly relates it to OM. He now says that the Ātman corresponds to the syllable OM as a whole. And these three aspects mentioned earlier, these three states of consciousness, correspond to its letters A, U, and M. That is why I have left a little space here on the left. So this is the A-consciousness, this is the U-consciousness, this is the M-consciousness, and this is the OM-consciousness. From A, from the gross, to the subtler, to the very subtle—and that is what yoga is truly about for us: to take this final step from M-consciousness to OM-consciousness. He explains it further here. The first letter A corresponds to Viśva, the waking state, because it pervades everything and stands at the beginning. Whoever has realized this knowledge, all their desires are fulfilled, and they stand foremost. To understand this more precisely now, I think the best is simply to take it as a meditation instruction and meditate on it: meditate on A, on the A-consciousness. The second letter U corresponds to Taijasa, the dream state, because it is superior—that is, subtler—and occupies a middle position, namely the middle position between A and M, and also the middle position among these three levels of consciousness: A, U, M. Whoever has realized this knowledge accelerates the state of their spiritual development and feels equally connected with all. That is actually what Svāmījī, I think, calls Samadarśitā: to see the same in all. It is therefore already a stage of divine experience when we, so to speak, see the identity in all and then also accept everyone. It is truly a significant step in our development when we reach that point: no longer distinguishing between friend and foe, but recognizing the same in all. "No one is born in their home without knowing Brahman." That is already a very elevated state of consciousness. The third letter M corresponds to Prajñā, the state of deep sleep, because it emits and absorbs within itself. Whoever has realized this knowledge embraces the entire universe and becomes the place of its dissolution. This is perhaps interesting because he radiates and absorbs within himself. We also had the description earlier: he is the origin of all; from him all beings arise, and in him all beings dissolve. So far, we have actually viewed it more in this way, and this is our usual manner of perceiving the world. We are identified with the waking consciousness of the material plane, and then, so to speak, we become subtler: from the coarse to the subtler to the very subtle. And then, at some point, it goes back again, and then we say, "I have awakened. This is not really real at all; now I am back in the real world." We usually identify with this world as the real world. We start from here and end up there again. Here it is exactly the opposite. It says the true beginning is here. From here it is emitted and then dissolved again. That means, in reality, the origin is always the subtle. Here in the subtle consciousness is the origin, then comes the grosser, and finally the very gross, where we are now. And then it goes back again: there are still individual experiences, and in the end, it dissolves once more, so to speak, into the ocean of consciousness, this undifferentiated mass of consciousness. Like an ocean of consciousness, from which something arises and then sinks back into the ocean. This is what is actually being said here now: that from the M-consciousness the other forms, the coarser forms of consciousness arise and then fall back again to it. And that, of course, makes a lot of sense when we think about creation. It did not arise from the gross, but from the most subtle. However, then one step further: not from here, but from here. He has now assigned these three forms, and the individual statements from them—I think it might be good to reflect on them a bit individually or meditate on them. "Whoever truly attains this knowledge embraces the entire universe and becomes the place of its dissolution." Now the last śloka. The entire Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad is indeed very short; it is only one page. "The syllable OM as a whole corresponds to the fourth aspect, Turīya." And this śloka is actually quite similar to the earlier one. So, partly literally identical in the Sanskrit text. It is no coincidence that the translation here is similar; rather, it is truly partly identical text. "He is beyond ordinary experiences, beyond the world of appearances. It is divine bliss, Śiva, beyond all duality, Advaita. Thus, OM is truly identical with the Ātman. Whoever realizes this, enters the Ātman through the help of the Ātman." This is truly repeated here. This is not a typo. That means here he becomes very passionate, very emphatic. He wants to awaken us now and says this is the one thing, the only thing you must realize: this one realization. Whoever realizes this is self-realized. He says: "He enters the Ātman with the help of the Ātman." That is, of course, a bit, strictly speaking, an absurd statement. We want to enter into the Ātman, to realize ourselves through the Ātman, but for that we need the Ātman. I have reflected on that a little. And I believe there is a secret in there in a very subtle form, something that we actually already know as Swāmījī’s students. Because actually, that is simply not possible. I need what I want in order to achieve what I do not yet have. So, in a way, this is a contradiction in itself. If you look at the text closely, it is written exactly like that, and everyone interprets it in exactly that way: "He enters the Ātman with the help of the Ātman." That means: what am I doing now? Actually, nothing at all. I do not appear there at all. The practitioner, the seeker, who wanders through various states of consciousness, actually does nothing in that context. He does not appear here at all. The subject is the Ātman. The Ātman acts. And the result is the Ātman. What does this mean for us practically in spiritual life? What other mantra comes to your mind in this context? One that basically expresses it more clearly? Nāham Kartā. That’s why I thought it would be fitting if we sing this. And since we all sang that together, I thought I don’t need to sing a mantra at the beginning, because we are all singing the mantra, OM and Nāmaḥ, together. Also in the "OM Guru Brahma Guru Viṣṇu..." no, wait, the other one: "Jñāna Mūlaṁ Guru Mūrti," where at the end it says, "Mokṣa Mūlaṁ Guru Kṛpā." That means this final step of union with the Ātman is actually no longer in our hands. This is the crucial point. We do need to practice—I have always emphasized that; disciple comes from discipline. Where there is discipline, there is a disciple. So practice, practice... that is what he created the entire yoga system for. And again and again he scolds us for not practicing properly. But what is the result of all this practice? I believe one must be absolutely clear about this and say it very plainly and unequivocally: the result of all the practice is not liberation, but devotion, Bhakti. Letting go, surrendering, trusting. It is not in your hands. You simply cannot liberate yourself. However you practice, you cannot liberate yourself. You can only surrender. That means, ultimately, the result of all our practice is Bhakti: devotion and trust in the Master. That is, I think, what is somewhat implicitly behind it: to enter the Ātman with the help of the Ātman. The Ātman here takes on a concrete form for us, namely the Guru. I would understand it as entering the Ātman with the help of the Guru, in the realization that the Guru is also the Ātman. There is absolutely no difference. That means the Ātman takes on the concrete form of the manifested Guru for us, and he is the one who helps us. That means, "Mokṣa Mūlaṁ Guru Kṛpā": through the grace of the Master, ultimately we attain this unity with the Ātman. Sometimes in these Upaniṣads, which are very brief but therefore also very concentrated, you really have to think deeply about them to sense that there is something there. So, yes, in my opinion, there is a lot contained within them. It says quite clearly... Clearly the statement is: you cannot free yourself; you can only surrender. And every time we sing "Nāham Kartā," that is actually this act of surrender: "Okay, I am doing something now, but I am... I am aware that, in fact, I can do nothing at all. I can be the maximum instrument of the Divine. Please be the one who acts." Surrendering, opening oneself, so that it can happen. And whether it happens, we do not know. That means a bhakta actually has no desires left—not even the desire for liberation. He simply surrenders. That is true Bhakti. And then the master sees: "Okay, this one is ready. Now we can do something about that." Is the master, so to speak, allowed to do something when we completely surrender ourselves to the master? That is how I understand it. So, now we already have... Is that reasonably clear so far? Perhaps we can add a few more things there. So, what now appears in the text: some additional aspects that partly appear in the text and are partly known to you. Or, I don’t know, shall we do this now? How are you all feeling? Shall we take a break now or take a break later? Okay, then we will sit again afterwards. We need to add a little more there. That is still a bit empty. And then I actually wanted to do "Hari Om Guru Om" or something about the OM, so that we sing it and talk about it again. There is still a lot. Okay, then perhaps let us now take the first digestion break here and in about 10 minutes or so we will resume.