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Śrī Dīp Nārāyaṇ Bhagavān kī, Śrī Śrī Dev Purīṣa Mahādeva kī, Alak Purījī Mahādeva kī, Dīp Nārāyaṇ Bhagavān kī, Satguru Svāmī Madhvanājī Bhagavān kī, Jai Satya Sanātana Dharma kī, Oṁ Śānti, Śānti, Śānti. Good evening, welcome everybody. Energy, prāṇa, everything is a game, a play of the energy. When the energy is present, everything functions perfectly: strength, abilities, control, and balance all depend on that energy. As the energy slowly diminishes, all functions become less and less. This is in nature, which is why there are generally four seasons. In spring, new life emerges from nature, full of energy—shooting, budding, leaves sprouting. That is full of power. Then comes summer. Everything is balanced, beautiful, with nice color, full of energy. Then comes autumn, a time of tyāga, renunciation. In renouncing, this is a time to cultivate detachment. Attachment leads us to nothingness; detachment leads us further toward our destination. Then comes winter; everything is without leaves, everything is sleeping. These four seasons correspond to the four different stages of human life. The first is childhood, the student life called brahmacarya. Then comes the householder stage. After that, when you have children and retire, you hand everything over to your children and renounce; that stage is called vānaprastha. You renounce and withdraw yourself somewhere to be peaceful. Then comes sannyāsa, complete renunciation, the life of the monk, the life of the ṛṣis. By then, you know your whole life. You did a lot of work, made many collections, and now it exists only in your memory. There was a time you bought beautiful things—a very nice ornament, fine furniture, a nice picture, a very nice carving. You spent thousands of dollars, came home and said, "Wow." But by the time you are 99 years old, everything becomes an object for collecting dust. Everything in the house—your carpet, a handmade silk Kashmir or Arabian carpet—is now dusty. You are not even able to close the door quickly; it takes time to walk slowly, close the door, come back slowly, hold your bed, sit on it, and lie down. Energy is missing, so everything becomes a burden. Therefore, it is said: "Oh Lord, God, give me that much so I can feed my family, so my family can live comfortably and have enough for our needs. But let there not be enough for our greed. And may someone who comes to my door not go away with empty hands or hungry." That is enough. All other kinds of collection are a burden. In the book Hidden Powers in Humans, where we talk about kuṇḍalinī and different śaktis and vṛttis, there are two principles: pravṛtti and nivṛtti. Pravṛtti is that collection, that working—"I want to do this, I want to do that." Vṛtti means nature, desires, attachment, greed, the impulse to create or do something. Pravṛtti is all the collecting we do; this is called the householder life, and it becomes a burden. You are collecting burdens that one day will weigh you down. The second is called nivṛtti. Nivṛtti is the best. It means you have finished everything. No more desires, no more wishes, nothing more to do. Let God's will be as it is. At least maintain yourself, maintain your body. Have no desires. So, before you go, empty your bank account; otherwise, someone else will. How hard you worked and collected a lot of money, and one day you die. Then they will check every bank, every account, to see how much money you have. Where will it go? Nothing will go with us. So, pravṛtti and nivṛtti. Before going toward mokṣa, liberation to God, you should not have any burden. Otherwise, these vṛttis—our ambitions, thoughts, desires, attachments, and detachments—bind us. Attachment is there: "my house, my car, my furniture, my chair, my husband, my wife, my child, my horse... my, my, my." But when you go, all that is "yours" will not come with you. At most, people will come only until the funeral. If you ask your best friend, "Will you go with me to the funeral?" they say, "Yes, I will come to your funeral." But will they lie down with you and have earth put on them? No. We only come to the funeral; we do not go to burn with you in the crematorium or be put in the earth in a grave. That is saṃsāra. How long will you keep this person? One day they will go away. Again you will go away alone. And suddenly, when the soul goes out of the body, your memory remains, your feelings remain, your knowledge remains. And you see everything: what your children are doing, what your wife is doing, what your husband is doing, what is happening with your money, what is happening with your car. But you have no more access. You are completely detached from the family. One goes to the graveyard, they perform the funeral, and they come back. All are unhappy at home, missing the person. One chair is empty. How many family members? Everyone had their favorite sofa or chair for sitting. Today, the grandfather's chair is vacant, empty. We are unhappy, crying. "Grandfather went." Grandfather decides to come back because his grandchildren are so unhappy. On a dark winter evening, around 10 or 11, grandfather comes and knocks through the window. "Will you go and open the window or the door? Grandfather, my children, it is very cold. Open the door." Oh, God, what should we do? Grandmother, Granny, says, "Close the curtain. Put off the light." That is it—our relation is finished. He comes to the window: "Show your poor face." Everybody is paralyzed. He came as a ghost. Yes, so our relation is finished. We came to disconnect the relation to the minimum. We walk to the graveyard, and then from the grave we put a lot of earth so he doesn't get up again. And where is he to go? A beautiful tree, like a maple with beautiful leaves, enters autumn and then winter. The wind comes and the leaves fall down; the wind blows a leaf somewhere to the other side of the hills. That leaf is thinking, "That is grandfather, now yellow and weak." Yellow means no more energy. It is a patta tutta dal—the leaf broke or separated from the branch. The wind came and took it somewhere far away. It will fall down somewhere in the far distance. You cannot walk from there back to the tree now. This separation—when will we come together again? We will fall down somewhere far away. When the soul goes out of the body, there are two possibilities. One is attachment: you are still attached to your property, your children, and many things. You want to do something, but you do not get liberation. The second is described as a beautiful flame, a dīpak light, moving at high speed into the far distance. When it dies, it is gone. Now you are crying, you are sorry, you are conducting a funeral. For whom? For the body, not for that reality. The reality has gone that way, and you are going to the graveyard this way. We celebrate every year in the beginning of November, going to the graveyard. In one way, you might not believe; some say after death everything is gone, nothing is there. Then why do you go to the graveyard? Everyone goes there. It is a symbol of love, to remember—that is all. But that person is not there anymore; it is gone. It is a testament. How many countries and kingdoms were there? How many kings fought for their land, and how many soldiers died? Do you think that king is born again in that country where he was fighting, thinking, "This is my country, my kingdom; I am the king"? Forget it. Perhaps you are born in your enemy's land, where you were the enemy, and now you will fight against your own children. So, Nātha, the relation is gone. Therefore, a human should know that this time, this life, is for doing good things and preparing for the further journey. That is all. Offer everything back. Prapañca means, "Oh, I must work, I must do this." All the time we are very, very active. Did you ever see an ant sleeping? Day and night they are running, collecting, but they have no time to eat; someone else is eating. This is our condition. We have many, many things, collections we never see. How many photos have you taken with your cameras? Do we see them again? Very rare. Somebody else will see them, or somebody will throw them away. That is the problem. The collection—these are all collections. That is called moha, attachment. Moha means ignorance, and attachment is ignorance. Why are you fighting, crying, unhappy? This does not belong to you; it is not yours. So, nivṛtti and pravṛtti. The kuṇḍalinī, the śakti, always leads us toward that liberation, that freedom. We get more and more energy that brings us to that point; that energy becomes our knowledge. It is not easy to renounce. We talk a lot about renunciation, but still we cannot. "My, my..." But then what is "yours" is not here anymore. The ātmā, the supreme self, does not need anything. Therefore, it is said: "Oh traveler, you gave up everything, or you lost everything, or you gave everything back." And you went alone. Now you are residing, perhaps, in some lonely forest. Sabi chhodkar chala mushafir. Mushafir is a traveler. That traveler, who once was collecting and collecting, has now given up everything. Sabi chhodkar chala mushafir, baas kia banka. And now he has made his residence somewhere in the forest. No one is there. No one asks how you are. No one asks where you are coming from. Nothing—alone. We all will go alone. That is what we are afraid of: how it will be. In endless space we are; we do not know east, west, north, or south. The sun we see, our sun, rises every hour. So far we are, and Earth is down, and we see the sun every hour. The sun rises and goes down, rises, and then after some time the sun never rises, and then after some time the sun disappears; we are going somewhere far away. Such is the high speed of your soul, very high speed. There are only two days of life in this world: one was yesterday, and the second is today. Tomorrow we have not seen, and who will see tomorrow? No one sees tomorrow. Like in a shop in a little village: people come and buy something and say, "I will pay you tomorrow." Okay, so he bought something and went home. Tomorrow, he did not come to pay. After one week, he came again for shopping and said, "Oh yes, I had no money, but I will pay you tomorrow." Again he bought something. So the shopkeeper wrote in big letters: "Today is cash. Today pay. Today pay the cash. Tomorrow I will give you something." How do you check udhār? Udhār ko kya kya te debt? So, today you have to pay cash. Tomorrow, I will pay you in debt. The next day he comes again to get something and says, "Please, can you give me today's debt?" The shopkeeper says, "No, I told you tomorrow." The customer says, "Yes, but I told you yesterday. But tomorrow is tomorrow. Look, read that." So tomorrow always remains tomorrow, and the past is always past. What you think you have to do tomorrow, do it today. And what you have to do today, do it just now. Therefore, what you have to do tomorrow, do it today; and what you have to do today, do it just now. Otherwise, within a second your soul will go; you will die. When will you do your work? Finish it, therefore. Do not leave anything for tomorrow. That is called discipline. That is called practice. That is called achievement. And that is called that kind of energy. We like that energy. So, kuṇḍalinī. Kuṇḍalinī is energy, and we should try to keep our energy in the body as much as possible and keep it pure. When you touch someone, your energy is not your energy anymore; it is mixed. Therefore, many people do not shake hands. When you go to the operation theatre, the doctor does not shake hands. They all have gloves, masks, everything; even the shoes are different. They also have a mask in front of the mouth because of infections. Similarly, the yogī says: try to avoid touch, try to sit at a separate distance, try to sit on your own yoga mattress, do not sit on others' because that energy comes to you. But we do not understand how the energy can transfer. Yes, infection can transfer very quickly. Infection is two kinds of energy. One is energy infection, which comes from negative people or negative things. Keep your body pure. Do not take energy from others. Do not become a dustbin where you throw all the garbage. So first bring purity, cleanliness. So, nivṛtti and pravṛtti. Pravṛtti means you have done everything and now have time for your meditation. In pravṛtti, you are all the time thinking, active, doing and doing. In this saṃsāra, this work will never be finished. Since Swayambhū, Śiva came, and even Śiva cannot finish any more work. Who are we? Śiva is also very active and raw, day and night. He cannot sleep because the whole world is singing, "Śiva, Śiva..." Everyone is praying to God. So God says, "What a headache I have created." So pravṛtti, attachment, is the biggest problem. Attachment is like cheese on a pizza. You cut a piece, and you take a slice, but still the cheese is coming bigger and bigger until you cut or bite again. So this is an attachment. It is like gum or plastic rubber, coming and going, pulling you back, pulling you back. How long? This attachment will slowly become thinner and thinner. How long? We do not know. How many generations? How many lives? So, kuṇḍalinī is that which we have to understand. What is kuṇḍalinī? Kuṇḍalinī is the śakti, and Śiva is the consciousness. So Śiva and Śakti together bring liberation. Therefore, Śakti and Śiva—Śakti is called Ardhaṅginī. When you marry, your wife becomes a half part of your being, and the husband is also a half part. Ardhaṅginī, Ardhāṅga is husband, or Ardhāṅginī is wife. That is called Śiva and Śakti. So this is your consciousness, the awareness that you are living, and the energy in your body is Śakti. So this is Śiva and Śakti: consciousness and the body. Activity—everything we do physically, mentally, emotionally, intellectually, all that we work and do—is Śakti, the power. That which is constantly in us, existing with us, is consciousness. When there is no consciousness, you are unconscious. And when you are unconscious, Śakti is also unconscious. Śakti is very sad; she is also unconscious. She is lying here, and he is lying there. The connection between them is broken. So do not understand Śakti like a husband and wife, or female and male, but understand the principle of the whole life. Every blade of grass has a Śakti; every tiny leaf, even the needle of a very big tree, has Śakti. That tree exists and holds because of Śakti, but inside is life, which is Śiva. So, Śakti is in the Mūlādhāra Chakra below, and Śiva is in the Sahasrāra Chakra above. Between them are so many obstacles, different directions, and difficulties. Whether you will manage to come up or not—therefore it is said: Guru Kṛpā hi kevalam, through the Guru's grace and the Guru's word. There is a bhajan that says: Bin jāne koī upāyo chāḍasī pade dhāraṇ par āī. That bhajan sings: Manvā, dheere dheere chāl, gagana gar chadnā... Chadnā re bhai, gagana gar chadnā, bhai. Oh my mind, slowly, slowly walk. Slowly, slowly we have to climb to the Brahma-loka, to the highest, supreme world. Slowly, slowly. So the whole bhajan is like that. That is the story about how to control the mind. The mind is like a devil. The mind is restless. The mind does not let us work on anything. The mind makes us work, but it does not work as we want. Though we are the king of the mind, the king has become a slave of the mind and senses. There was a big farm, and one man was the owner of the land, with thousands of hectares. He had a lot of work—a strong farmer with good will, like our Mr. Dean, who is always in the forest. One day, luckily or unluckily, Mr. Dean met a ghost. Oh, God! The ghost was coming toward Dean, and Dean was also interested, so he went toward the ghost. The ghost said, "What kind of man is this? Generally, they all run away, and he is coming toward me." So the ghost lost half his energy. He thought, "He is another ghost and stronger than me." Well, they came together, and Dean said, "Who are you on my property?" The ghost said, "I am the ghost. What are you doing here? I will kill you." Dean said, "Why will you kill me? It is my property. You came into my property, and you want to kill me?" The ghost said, "Yes, I am a ghost." Dean said, "You cannot kill me." The ghost said, "You have so much confidence. What are you doing?" Dean said, "Yes, I do yoga in daily life." The ghost said, "I want to know." Dean said, "One day will come, I will teach yoga in their life, but today I will kill you." The ghost said, "I will kill you." Dean said, "Okay. What are the prizes? What kind of medal will we get? Who will be the winner, and who will be the loser?" The ghost said, "It is very clear who will be the winner. I will kill you." The ghost was sure: "I have extraordinary power. I will kill him and eat him." So he said, "The winner will kill you." Dean said, "Okay, I will take my jacket off." So he took his jacket off, and they wrestled. Yes, Dean was the winner. He pulled the ghost down and sat on him and said, "Now, what should I do? I have already killed you." Well, the ghost said, "I am still not a loser. I will fight again." Dean said, "But what will you do?" The ghost said, "The loser will always be a servant." Dean said, "Okay, then I will fight again. I need a servant." So again, Dean won. The ghost said, "We also have discipline. We are ghosts, but we have discipline. We know when to kill, when to attack, when not, and everything. We have constellations." So Dean said, "Now I am the winner." The ghost said, "Yes, sir. But there is one principle, one agreement." Dean said, "What?" The ghost said, "I will be your servant. I will do whatever you want me to do. But if you do not give me work, then I will kill you. I want to work, and when you will not give me work, I will kill you." Dean said, "Oh, I am so happy. I will let you work day and night. I have hundreds of thousands of hectares of land to do this and that." The ghost said, "Yes, do not waste time. Give me work." The ghost was thinking, "Before sunset, I will kill him." Well, Dean said, "Clean my land from all these rocks." The ghost said, "No problem." And within no time, all the rocks were thrown to one side. The ghost came back: "Dean, my sir, boss, give me your work." Dean said, "Yes. Take all the dry wood away and clean this field." The ghost said, "Yes." Within no time, he collected everything. "Well, make a big wall, a fence around my property, about eight meters high." The ghost said, "No problem." He went, zzzz, and the wall was there. "Give me work." "Okay. Clean my old field and pull out the weeds." So he cleaned and made the field ready to harvest or sow seeds. "Give me work now." Dean was losing his confidence and energy. The ghost would not let him sleep. So Dean said, "Go and take care. Where are my cows? Bring my cows here and there. Clean all my cows." The ghost cleaned everything. "Give me work." Dean said, "Come with me for a moment; I will go to my master." The ghost said, "What will you do with the master? What work will you give to the master?" Dean said, "I am not giving the master; I will go to him." The ghost said, "Well, I have my saṅkalpa: before sunset, I want to separate your head from your trunk." There was a nice, beautiful hut. The master was sitting there, and the farmer came. The master said, "Oh, you are not in your field so early?" The farmer said, "Yes, Master, I have a problem." "What is the problem?" The ghost was thinking, "This clever master, I hope he will not create some problem. But I am powerful. If I need to, I will pull the master away too." But he could not come close. Ghosts, negative energy, cannot come to spiritual saints, sādhus, and they do not come where there are horses or cows; their scent keeps them away. Lightning will not disturb such places. The master said, "Have a cup of tea." The farmer said, "Yes, Master, but this is my problem now. Oh, that ghost is always moving around my hut, searching for someone. Yes, Master, the challenge is this, the promise is this, the agreement is this, the protocol is this: when he will not get work, he will kill me." The master said, "No problem." The farmer said, "Yes, sir, no problem for you, but for me it is a problem. I cannot get out of the door now. I do not know what to give him for work." The master said, "Have a cup of tea." Very nice. So he drank tea, and the ghost was sitting there. The farmer looked at the ghost and then at the master. "Master, what should I do?" The master said, "No problem, I will give you work. Go and tell him to bring the biggest tree from the forest, like an opa tree, and bring it to me." Within no time, the ghost brought the big tree and put it on the ground. "Give me work." "Master, he is still asking for work." The master said, "Yes. Now tell him to put this tree in the ground." So the ghost put it in the ground. "Give me work." "Master, what to do?" "Do not worry. He will have enough work." "Master, what work should I give him?" The master said, "Yes, go and tell him, 'Now your duties: climb up the tree. When you are up, your duty is to come down. When you are down, go up. Up and down, up and down—this is never finished. And if he breaks the tree, he will bring a new tree and put it here, and your duties are to work up and down. And when you need some work, tell him, "Come here." This work is finished. When that is finished, go and climb on the tree, up and down, up and down.'" The farmer went to the ghost. The ghost said, "Oh God!" No, he did not say, "Oh God." He said, "Oh devil, liberate me from this farmer and from this master now." The work: go up, come down, go up, no sleeping. If he sleeps and stops, give him a stick. So he is going and coming, still going up and down. The symbol of the story is: the field is our body, and the farmer is our consciousness, awareness—our jīvātmā, jīva. The ghost is our mind. This mind does not let us be free. All the time the mind needs something—this, that. You cannot sit peacefully. Suddenly, when you sit to relax, the mind says, "My horses are beautiful, but I must feed my horses. This morning they were not there to ride." So the mind is now with the horse; it is not here. The mind always needs something. So your master is your viveka, discrimination. The master gives the order to the jīvātmā: bring the biggest tree. That biggest tree is the spinal column. And when the mind has no work, then ascending and descending—your awareness in the body from Mūlādhāra to Sahasrāra, from Sahasrāra to Mūlādhāra, up and down, up and down—all your chakras will be purified, and your kuṇḍalinī will be awakened. Finally, the ghost will say, "Gurudev, liberate me." The master says, "No, no, still I cannot liberate you." Until Kuṇḍalinī comes to Śiva, then you will be liberated, and the farmer will be liberated; all will be liberated. So this is the story of our body. Always, when you have no work, then practice your mantra. Ascending and descending with the breath. Inhale: Om Prabhudeep Niranjan. Exhale: Sabdukha Banjan. Ascending and descending with the mantras, your chakras will be purified. So this is a story of the mind, soul, and ātmā. And this body is filled with Kurukṣetra and Dharmakṣetra. This is the Mahābhārata's battle in Kurukṣetra and Dharmakṣetra. This Kurukshetra is the body, and dharma is the goodness. So this is the body to gain more and more good things: Dharma Kṣetra, Kurukṣetra. So, Kundalini is that which can rise when our mind is pure; then it will come to the Śakti, to the Śiva. Tomorrow we will continue. Wish you good night, all the best.