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Part 1: The Secret of Om: Unpacking the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad Thank you very much for the warm welcome. I am happy to be here for the second time on this Austria tour, and Vienna is now the conclusion. I was a bit surprised that there is also a webcast, but that is fine. I have already addressed this topic once on the webcast, in English, but today we will do it in German. So I also welcome everyone joining us online. The topic is the secret of Om. It might sound like making something special out of it, as if it is a secret. But I think in this case it really must be put that way, because Om is a mystery. It remains a mystery, and even after this workshop it will still be a mystery. When someone claims they will now explain Om to you, you don’t even have to listen, because it is not that simple. Svāmījī has already spoken extensively about this, and ultimately what I am now trying to convey to you is essentially 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 primordial 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. This is because one connects with this truly existing Om. Strictly speaking, one cannot actually produce Om—in the sense of generating it oneself. That would imply that when I am not chanting, Om is not there, which is not true at all. When we chant Om, we are actually trying to connect with the ever-present Om, to resonate with it. The effect of chanting Om is not due to our own effort in singing, but rather the impact of this truly existent Om. So before we delve into too much theory, let us simply do it. But let us do it with great awareness. Normally we chant Om in a fixed rhythm, usually three times. However, it can be a very beautiful and special experience when we do this as a group. I recall a similar experience many years ago with Richard Field, a Sufi master, in Hamburg. It was a large hall with several hundred people, and the effect was incredible. Today we are not so many, but let us see if we can experience something of that. We will now sing Oṃ together for some time. I won’t say for how long—perhaps around five to ten minutes—and I won’t announce the end. We will decide together as a group when it is time to conclude, and it will gently come to a close. So we all sing Oṃ, each breathing as they wish, so that through the overlapping of the individual voices a group Oṃ emerges, a long, continuous sound. You can sing slightly higher or lower, as you like, but listen to one another. This is a genuine group process. At some point, collectively, we will feel it is time to stop, and the sound will fade away. Please close your eyes and attune yourselves inwardly to this truly existing Oṃ with which we now try to connect as a group. It is important that everyone understands this: if one person keeps singing on alone, it can disrupt the whole. Each one breathes individually, following their own rhythm, and then joins the Oṃ again. As rhythms overlap, a continuous, great Oṃ arises. Sometimes it may grow louder in one place, softer in another, almost dying away and then rising again, but eventually we all stop together. [After the group chanting] Did you feel anything from the Oṃ when we stopped? That is actually the important thing. Basically, when we chant Oṃ, we are actualizing it, making it conscious—the Praṇava, the subtlest vibration, that again is the Oṃ. I know people who have truly experienced this in meditation, but it requires great quietude—a very subtle vibration—in order to experience the Oṃ. Not that one generates it, not even as a lingering resonance from singing, as we just did, but it is simply there. Oṃ is a mantra. It is, so to speak, the root mantra of all mantras. Where do the mantras come from? Who creates them? Who invents them? Or do they just come up with them? A true mantra cannot be made. Whoever 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, recognized mantras such as Oṃ, So'ham, the Gāyatrī Mantra, and many others. Where do they come from? At some point, in deep meditation, they were experienced by the Ṛṣis, the Yogis. This is called mantra-dṛṣṭi or śruti. Dṛṣṭi means seeing; it indicates that in meditation they saw the mantra. Śruti means they heard it—or both. In other words, they experienced it. One can experience a mantra, but one cannot make, develop, or construct it. Thus, mantras have been passed down through the tradition from master to disciple over the centuries and have eventually reached us. Mantras are thus a reality—a divine reality that can reveal itself. In principle, this could happen to any of us at any time: we might become, so to speak, a mantra-dṛṣṭi or śruti, meaning that in deep meditation we experience a mantra. But that does not mean we created it. The entire Veda actually originated in this way. When you look at the Vedas—in our library in Jadan we have them—you always see at each section: Ṛṣi so-and-so, Ṛṣi so-and-so. One might spontaneously think, “This is the author; he composed this.” But that is not true at all. He is the one who recorded it, who brought it into the tradition. He is the one who experienced it. The Ṛṣis who wrote down or transmitted the mantras did not create them; they experienced them. Mantras are a divine revelation, and this is especially true for Oṃ. Oṃ is the primal mantra. Oṃ is the origin of the entire universe. There is practically no sacred scripture in which Oṃ is not used in one form or another. Svāmījī says that no true mantra can exist without Oṃ. As far as I know, all the mantras Svāmījī gives as initiations begin with Oṃ. Is this an exception? Does anyone have a mantra from Svāmījī that does not contain Oṃ? The essence of a mantra is the name of God. The name of God can take two forms: nirguṇa or saguṇa. Nirguṇa means formless—not a particular historical aspect of God, but simply the divine pure consciousness. Saguṇa is a concrete form, a specific deity like Mahāprabhujī, Kṛṣṇa, Rāma, Jesus, for example. That is the concrete name, the saguṇa aspect of God in the mantra. The mantras Svāmījī gives usually contain both nirguṇa and saguṇa. Some mantras, for instance, also include So'ham, which is also nirguṇa, formless. But then we usually have either Mahāprabhujī’s name or Śrī Devpurījī’s name, or perhaps other names of God that embody a specific form. Almost all the Upaniṣads, the sacred scriptures of India, speak of Oṃ in one way or another. But there is one Upaniṣad entirely dedicated to Oṃ: the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad. The name might sound a bit funny because it reminds us of a frog—Maṇḍūkāsana, the frog posture. Probably there was a saint named Maṇḍuka who meditated in a certain posture. I do not know the exact background, but in any case, it is not the name of a frog but of a saint. I don’t believe 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, it should actually be sufficient for God-realization. If that does not work, then perhaps meditate on the ten principal Upaniṣads. If still not, then the thirty most important. And if that too does not quite work, then go through all 108 Upaniṣads. But the first, and actually sufficient, should be the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad. I have been engaged with this topic for a very long time. Even before I became a Svāmī, in 1993, I gave a seminar on mantra and Om. Back then I made a translation from the texts available to me—a German version of the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad. Recently, while traveling and speaking on mantra or Om, I always do so in English. So, over the last two or three days, I took the effort to sit down once again and prepare a new translation for you, based on my current understanding of the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad. Do you have the handout? They should have been distributed by now. Yes, could someone please make sure everyone gets a copy? We urgently need this because I want to go through the text with you now. That is why the board is also here. The Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad is very short—it has only twelve ślokas. But actually, everything is contained within that: our entire life, our entire consciousness, all the various states of consciousness. The Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad belongs to the Atharvaveda and is special also because one of the four Mahāvākyas is found in it. The Mahāvākyas are, so to speak, the great, special mantras. Each Veda is associated with a Mahāvākya. The Mahāvākya of the Atharvaveda is precisely in the Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad, in the second śloka: ayam ātmā brahma—this Ātmā is Brahman. So it is a special feature that we find one of the Mahāvākyas here. Now, does everyone have a copy? Good. As I said, this is my translation, and I take full responsibility for it. I have endeavored to translate it as best I could, to the best of my knowledge and conscience, drawing upon many sources. Ultimately, a sacred scripture cannot truly be translated. Even translating the bhajans is very, very difficult, almost impossible. But I made the effort because I know you would like it here in German, and I can still speak a little German. I have had a week to reactivate my German. So here it is: “Oṃ, 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 Oṃ. And that which exists beyond these three times, that too is Oṃ. All this is Brahman.” Brahman is a typical term from the Vedas and Upaniṣads. In the Vedas we do not find as many stories of various aspects of God—Kṛṣṇa, Śiva, and so on. Rather, the Vedas primarily speak of Brahman, God. Brahman cannot be translated; the simple word “God” comes closest. It is that which has no specific qualities, the formless God, the one God. It does not matter what you call Him, how you approach Him, or by which path. Ultimately, everyone who experiences God experiences a reality. There is one truth, one reality; no one can change it, no philosophy can alter it. Whether you call it this or that makes no difference. Brahman is not a specific name of God in that sense, but simply denotes the divine, pure, universal, highest divine consciousness. We cannot really say anything more specific about it. The main message of all the Mahāvākyas and indeed all the Upaniṣads is the unity of Ātman and Paramātmā. That is, the divine aspect within us—the individual soul, if you will, though the term does not fit perfectly—and the universal Paramātmā or Brahman. That is exactly the message here, the essence of this Mahāvākya: ayam ātmā brahma—this Ātmā is Brahman. Simply put, one could say my soul is one with God. However, as Svāmījī often emphasizes, the term Ātman is not truly translatable as “soul.” For example, one speaks of a small village of a hundred souls, counting one, two, three up to a hundred. You cannot count the Ātman. The Ātman is the divine quality within me, but it does not differ at all from the divine quality within you or within anyone else. Therefore, I cannot say there are this many Ātmans; it is always one. I often use the analogy of the ocean and the wave. The wave identifies with its form as a wave, and from this many problems arise—just as we identify with our individual existence as “I,” my body, my mind, all my qualities. But that is not reality. What is the wave really? Water. And the other wave is also water. The true essence of the wave is water. The divine quality of the wave is, so to speak, the water. And the divine quality of the next wave is also water. One cannot say “two waters”—there is no plural for water. In Austria, it sometimes happens that someone says, “Give me a water,” and I joke, “Better give me two waters.” You can give two bottles of water, but not two waters. The water is the same. It is exactly the same water in every wave, and it is the same water throughout the entire ocean. This is the key point of the Mahāvākya: the water of one wave does not differ from the water in another wave, nor from the water of the entire ocean. That is precisely the statement of the Mahāvākyas: the unity between Ātman and Paramātmā, between the so-called individual, which in reality is not individual, and the universal. The divine consciousness within me is just as divine as the divine consciousness in God; there is no difference. The whole purpose is that we recognize this. The entire Vedas, all the Upaniṣads, and especially the Mahāvākyas aim at this one realization. Once we have that, it is enough. That is called self-realization or God-realization. When the wave realizes, “I am water,” that is self-realization. When it further realizes, “This is the same water as in all waves and in the entire ocean,” that is God-realization. It is that simple. Let us realize, waves upon waves, that we are water. Drops and dripping. Now, in this Upaniṣad, Oṃ is being somewhat unpacked. That is why I have something to write with here, so we can try to make it a bit more tangible, even from the perspective of our intellect—though truly it is not possible, but a little bit. The Upaniṣad helps us with this. It says this Ātmā has four aspects. When I first read that, over twenty years ago, I was astonished. How can one divide God into four aspects? That seemed strange. But indeed it does. And these aspects can already be recognized in the written form. These are the Sanskrit letters that we have constructed in our āśram in Jadan. The Oṃ as we usually see it is like a three, with a tail on the right and something on top. Part 2: The Symbol of Om and the Fourth State of Consciousness This is the Om symbol as we usually encounter it, but in India the more common form is slightly different. When you purchase an object made of wood or metal, the Om you see often appears as it does here: the right side is more rounded, while in our representation it curves like a wave. In this depiction, the four aspects he mentions are already graphically present. The left part, resembling the number three, is actually the letter A. The tail or curl on the right turns the A into a U. Above, we see what in Western musical terms might be called a fermata—a crescent with a dot. In Hindi, this is called Chandra Bindu: Chandra, the crescent moon, and Bindu, the point or drop. The verse runs: Oṁkāra bindu saṁyuktaṁ nityaṁ dhyāyanti yoginaḥ | kāmadaṁ mokṣadaṁ caiva oṁkārāya namo namaḥ || Om connected with the Bindu. And here indeed is that very Bindu. The Bindu is associated with the Bindu Cakra, translated as either point or drop. In this context, the Bindu Cakra is the source of the divine nectar, Amṛta. Amṛta means immortality, eternity. So this immortality, this eternity, is embedded, as it were, within Om. Immortality comes through Om, which is united with the Bindu. Here you have the A sound, the U sound, and the M—this fading away, this lingering resonance. When all three come together, a new quality arises: no longer A or U or M, but Om. This is the fourth. These are precisely the four points referred to: A, U, M, and the quality that transforms when they merge into Om. One can chant Om as A-U-M, emphasizing the individual elements, but we usually do not. That, in fact, is correct, because we stress the new quality that emerges when these become one. Now he analyzes this twice. First, from the perspective of the three states of consciousness we know and the fourth that we do not know; then, from the letters themselves: A, U, M, and Om as a whole. The first aspect is called Vaiśvānara, a term that sometimes appears in the Upanishads as Viśva—the universe, but here it is the consciousness of the universe. Its domain is the waking state, the condition we are in right now, unless someone has already fallen asleep. I believe we are all still in Vaiśvānara or Viśva. Its domain is waking consciousness; it is aware of external objects, possesses seven limbs and nineteen openings, and experiences gross objects. The Upanishad itself does not explain what these seven limbs and nineteen openings are, so one must meditate on them or look up commentaries. I tried to combine several sources because I was not entirely satisfied with the explanations I found. In waking consciousness, we are aware of external, physical objects and experience the gross elements: that which can be touched, heard, perceived through the five senses—tasted, smelled, felt. That is the object of waking consciousness. The seven limbs, in my understanding, are the elements. It is often said that they are the five elements plus two others. I eventually realized there are not simply five elements but seven. Do you remember? We discussed Swāmījī’s teachings on the cakras. In the Mūlādhāra Cakra, the element is earth. In Svādhiṣṭhāna Cakra, water. In Maṇipūra Cakra, fire. In Anāhata Cakra, air. In Viśuddhi Cakra, ākāśa—space, but ākāśa is actually a better term because “space” sounds so empty. Ākāśa is the space filled with prāṇa, filled with divine consciousness. These are the five elements that are closest to us. But looking further, there are more cakras and therefore more elements. After the Ājñā Cakra, Swāmījī speaks of Anupāda Tattva as its element. For the Sahasrāra Cakra, the element is Bindu—though that is omitted here for now—and also Ādi. We already understand Ādi from many bhajans: Ādi Anādi, that which is from the beginning and for eternity, without beginning, without end, the primal Tattva, the original Tattva. Anupāda is so subtle that we cannot perceive it, and therefore we usually do not speak about it. But I believe these are what is meant here: the elements—Tattva means the elements from which we are made and with which we operate. The nineteen openings are the instruments or the doorways through which we act and perceive. Everyone agrees on what they are: the five Karmendriyas (organs of action), the five Jñānendriyas (organs of perception, what we usually call the sense organs), the five main Prāṇas (there are ten, but the five main ones are Prāṇa, Apāna, Samāna, Vyāna, and Udāna), and the four Antaḥkaraṇas—the mental functions: Manas, Buddhi, Chitta, and Ahaṁkāra. That is, our mind, our consciousness, our intellect, and our ego. Here, however, it is not meant in a negative sense; it refers to our ego-consciousness, the sense by which I as a wave identify myself as separate from the wave beside me. I am I and you are you. This is not yet egoism; it is the foundation from which egoism later arises. Here it is, so to speak, scientific—that which distinguishes me from the others. In my opinion, this is the correct explanation for what the Upanishad leaves unstated. Then he moves to the second aspect, the second state of consciousness, which he calls Taijasa. Its domain is the dream state. It is aware of inner objects, likewise possesses seven limbs and nineteen openings, and experiences subtle objects. When we fall asleep, we move to another level of consciousness, the astral or subtle level. Before falling asleep, I know exactly whether I am lying on my left side or my right side. But once asleep and dreaming, we no longer know that; we lose connection with the physical body. We no longer know whether the window is open or closed as long as we are asleep. We move to a level of perception where subtle objects exist. 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. Yet it can inspire just as much fear as if a real lion were coming through the door. In truth, all of this exists only on the astral plane. These are the subtle elements he emphasizes here. And then there is the third aspect, Prājña—or Pragma, as Swāmījī would likely say. This is a matter of transcription, so it is called either Prajñā or Prāgya. His 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. So, at this point we can already try to somewhat systematize this for ourselves. What is the name of the first realm? Vaiśvānara, also spelled Viśva. And what consciousness is that? The waking consciousness. I am simply jotting down the waking briefly. Then the second is Taijasa (Tejas), and that is dreaming. And the third one is Prajñā or Prāgya. I will write in parentheses how Svāmījī would probably write it. We also have, for example, the Ājñā Cakra, and we then call it the Ājñā Cakra. Svāmījī often explains this as well, saying that he is not speaking of waking, dreaming, or deep sleep, but rather of consciousness or waking consciousness. And what would Svāmījī say here? Subconscious. And here? Unconscious. Perhaps we should calmly write that down there, because Svāmījī often says it that way: the subconscious and the unconscious. And what is now stored in the subconscious? That was with, as it is repeatedly said. Yes, the two do not matter. Yes, it’s all right. I keep going back and forth. That’s just how it is. He says that in the subconscious are stored our experiences from this life, and in the unconscious the experiences from previous lives—which we normally do not know. That is why it is called unconsciousness. So, this unconsciousness or deep sleep is indeed highly interesting and somewhat confusing when we now 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 understand that. Here, all experiences have united into an undifferentiated mass of consciousness. That means consciousness is present. So it is not unconsciousness in the sense that we would have no consciousness at all. Then we would be, so to speak, dead. That is not the state. Consciousness is already present, but not consciousness of something concrete—so to speak, an undifferentiated mass, like when you make shapes out of clay, for example, and eventually you get bored and just gather everything into one heap. You no longer have any forms now, but the substance is still there. So one must now, I believe, imagine that there are no longer any concrete perceptions of something specific, describable, experiential, or desirable, but the consciousness as such is still present. And it is filled with bliss. Consciousness is indeed the divine consciousness. Now comes the but. But it is the gate that leads to dreaming and waking. Actually, it would be wonderful if we could always remain there—in this state of bliss. How do we experience it? How do we actually know? I mean, normally we can’t really remember anything, because one can remember a dream. This is something concrete. I say, last night I dreamed that I was swimming or flying. That is something concrete. But here there is nothing concrete. There is only a mass of consciousness, nothing that one could truly remember. And yet we remember it in a certain way—how exactly? That one is fresh first thing in the morning. Where does that come from? That does not come from dreaming. Dreaming is actually somewhat, how shall I say, a kind of mental digestion. What was a bit too much during the day, what occupied us, we chew over again at night so that we can, so to speak, let it go. Sometimes our dreams are therefore also very intense. So mine were also very moving. I had very intensive programs in St. Pölten and Krems. I believe I had very vivid dreams then. But that is not what we are truly drawing our strength from right now. That is when we are in deep sleep. And when one, as we have also experimented, so to speak, keeps waking people up at the very moment they enter deep sleep, it is hellish. Then you are completely exhausted the next morning. You basically did not sleep at all. That means, in reality, during deep sleep—which is the most important part for us—we, so to speak, go 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. Yes, why do we say that we have slept well and not slept badly? This is not due to back pain. This has to do with the fact that we have replenished ourselves with this divine energy, with this connection somewhere. But there is a but. And that is this gate here: the gate that leads to dreaming and waking. That means, in German, what leads back to the dream state, our waking state. Why do we have to go back? Why do we come out of there at all? Why don’t we simply stay? This is something very concrete that, so to speak, compels us to come out of it again: our karma. We have set ourselves a task. We still have something unfinished. Okay, so you have opened yourself up, now continue. Now go on. That means, this is why we return again to the dream state and 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 when we awaken. Or we would not wake up at all, we would remain directly in Samādhi. It is not. That means, it is quite interesting. And 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 Antaryāmi 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 one is speaking about the divine consciousness here. And I also found an interpretation on the internet where they actually reversed it, so to speak, separated this śloka from the previous one and said that it already points to what comes next. But I do not believe that is true. So 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 we are, so to speak, going to the divine gas station, staying very close to this divine consciousness, but then we have to come back out again. So 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 a day—I hope no one works too long. That means that within 24 hours we constantly move back and forth between these three states of consciousness. From the first to the second, to the third, back to the second, to the third, secondly, 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. Then investigate what actually happens in the dream, what happens in the brain, with the eye flickering and the deep sleep phases, and so on. Part 3: Turīya: The Fourth State of Consciousness and the Path of Surrender There is already a lot of Western research on this. But where there is no research on it, that is the next state. And now it becomes truly 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? Superconsciousness, when we speak English now, okay, exactly. 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 just means number four. The fourth state, and this makes sense, because one 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 therefore, one can hardly say anything about it. We are now speaking here about divine consciousness. Now God describes — that actually shouldn’t be possible. So now, the author, the saint who wrote the Upaniṣad, is trying to say here: 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 either. So we still know nothing, but at least we already know what it is not. This is precisely the way the Divine is usually described in the sacred scriptures, by always excluding things. “Not this, not this, not this.” Nor ordinary consciousness nor unconsciousness. That means 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 imperceptible. That means, one can, so to speak, intuit many things through their effects. One can draw conclusions. For example, we can also find it very difficult to understand electricity. But we can say, if I switch something on there, then the lamp lights up. Or then the fan starts to turn. Or then 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 it is said here, no, not here. It is as if beyond such ordinary experiences. It is imperceptible, meaning there is no chance with your sensory 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 cannot be done. Actually, the text should end here. It is the unique essence that is unique, and here the word Eka also appears, meaning 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 appearances. Phenomena now in a broader sense, not only physical phenomena, but also astral phenomena, spiritual phenomena, whatever. 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 the philosophy of Advaita, Viśiṣṭādvaita, and the Advaita philosophy. Advaita Vedānta, representative 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. And that then becomes a challenge for us when we try to understand this, because our language is dual. 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. Any qualities. As always, we have to say something and thereby exclude something else. That is duality. All our 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 the consciousness or state of consciousness Ātma. 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 sages think or teach us, this is what there is to realize. 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 of it. We are, so to speak, already beginning to touch this divine consciousness. We are already very close to the Ātman, and this description of that subconscious, unconscious deep sleep state is indeed quite similar, but unfortunately it is the gateway to the other two, and we must always return there again and again. 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 as well. It actually deals only with the gross material. So, then we move on to the next level, where it becomes more subtle. The astral. But still, concrete forms are present. Concrete experiences in dreams. Then we move on to the next stage. There we are already very close to the divine consciousness. And actually, we only need to take one step further. But we just can’t. And again and again, it always returns 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. So, and now comes the second part of the Upaniṣad, where he directly relates it to Om. And 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 his letters A, U, and M. And that is why I have left a little space here on the left. This is the A-consciousness. This is the U-consciousness. This is the M-consciousness. This is the OM-consciousness. From A, from the gross, to the subtler, to the very subtle. And that is to take this final step from the M-consciousness to the OM-consciousness. And then he explains it further here. The first letter A corresponds to Vaiśvānara, 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 an intermediate position. Namely, the middle position between A and M, and also the middle position among these three stages 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 Samadṛṣṭi. 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 the point of no longer distinguishing between friend and foe, but instead recognize the same essence in all. No one is born in their home who does not know Brahman. This is already a very elevated state of consciousness. The third state M, the third letter M, corresponds to Prājña, the state of deep sleep. Trust and believe, it helps, it heals — the divine power! We identify with the material plane and then, so to speak, become subtler. From the gross 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 ourselves with this world as the real world. We start from here and end up there again. Here it is exactly the opposite. He says, the subtle state 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 grosser forms of consciousness arise and then again fall back into it. And that, of course, makes a lot of sense when we think of creation. It did not arise from the gross, but from the most subtle. However, then one step further, not from here, but from here. So 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. And now the last śloka. The entire Māṇḍūkya Upaniṣad is very short. It is only one page. The syllable Om as a whole corresponds to the fourth aspect Turīya. And this number twelve is actually quite similar to number seven. So, partly literally identical in the Sanskrit text. So it is no coincidence that the translation here is similar; rather, it is truly partly identical text. This 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, through the help of the Ātman, enters into the Ātman. This is truly repeated here; it 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 one single thing you must realize. This one realization, whoever realizes this, whoever realizes this, is self-realized. He says he enters the Ātman with the help of the Ātman. That is, of course, a bit of an absurd statement, strictly speaking. We want to enter into the Ātman, to realize ourselves through the Ātman, but for that, we need the Ātman. I have reflected on this a little, and I believe there is a subtle secret hidden within. Something we actually already know as Svāmījī’s students, because actually, that’s not really possible. I need what I want in order to attain what I do not yet have. Somehow, that is a contradiction in itself. If you look at the text closely, it says exactly that, and everyone interprets it the same way: one enters the Ātman with the help of the Ātman. So, what do I do now? Actually, nothing at all. I don’t even appear there. The practitioner, the seeker, who wanders through various states of consciousness, is actually not doing anything 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? What basically expresses it more clearly? Nāhaṁ 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 together, Om and Nāhaṁ kartā. Also in the Om Guru Brahmā Guru Viṣṇu. No, wait, the other one. Dhyāna mūlaṁ gurur mūrtiḥ, and in the end comes 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, Svāmījī always emphasizes, disciple comes from discipline. Who keeps discipline is a disciple. So practice, practice,... that is precisely why he created the entire yoga system. And again and again he scolds us for not practicing properly. Okay, but what is the result of all this practice? I believe one must be absolutely clear about this, and say it out loud with complete firmness. The result of all the practice is not liberation, but surrender, bhakti, letting go, devotion, trust, which 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, trust in the Master. That is, I think, what is somewhat implicitly behind it. To enter the Ātman with the help of the Ātman. Here, the Ātman 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 no difference at all. 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, it is very brief, but precisely because of that, very concentrated. One really has to think deeply about it, to sense that somewhere, something is there. What? So, yes, in my opinion, there is a lot in that; the statement clearly says, you cannot liberate yourself, you can only surrender. And every time we sing, Nāhaṁ kartā, it is actually this act of surrender, okay, I am doing something now, but I am aware that I can actually do nothing; at most, I can be an instrument of the Divine. Please be the one who acts. Surrender, open yourself. For it to be possible. 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. The Master may, so to speak, do something. When we completely surrender ourselves to the Master. That is how I understand it. So, now we have already... 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, that are partly known to you, in order to... Or I don’t know, should 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 bit more there. It is still a bit empty. And then I actually wanted to talk about Holi Guruti Spajan regarding the omens, that we sing it and discuss it once more. There is still a lot to cover. Okay, then let us perhaps take a first digestion break now, a pause here, and in about 10 minutes or so we will continue.