TV Channel

Part 1: The Necessity of Unwavering Commitment in Kuṇḍalinī Practice and Guru-Disciple Fidelity Bhagavān, Deva, Īśvara, Mahādev kī; Satguru, Svāmī, Mādhavānandajī, Bhagavān kī; Satya, Sanātana, Dharma kī Jai. Eleven times we will chant Oṁ from the navel until the Sahasrāra chakra. A U M. Now place your hands on your knees and feel the resonance in the lower body, from the navel to the base of the spine and back again. Sit in Vajrāsana with the body straight and gently draw the chin toward the chest. Feel a cycling vibration from Mūlādhāra to Sahasrāra and back again, the energy descending from Sahasrāra down the front of the body and then, as we chant, rising from Mūlādhāra up through the spine to Sahasrāra. The sound passes through the chakras, but do not pause anywhere—simply continue. It is like driving on a highway: you go under a bridge or over a bridge, but you never stop. Close the chin to the chest once more. Stretch the legs straight, assume paścimottānāsana, inhale to saṁsāra, and slowly exhale. Go down as far as you can. Maintain a natural breath; you may hold your toes, calves, or knees while stretching the entire back. Slowly raise the arms and lift the body. With the hands above the head, interlock the thumbs, look upward, then release the hands onto the thighs. Perform the full butterfly posture, and then return to a comfortable seated position. When we take up kuṇḍalinī practice, understand foremost that it is not a five- or ten-minute program. Further, it is not meant for just one day. If you undertake kuṇḍalinī, it continues for years upon years. Sometimes people think they perceive a movement rising from bottom to top. That is not correct; such experiences signal a psychic disturbance. Even feeling a kind of vibration is not right. The practice should be deeply peaceful and harmonious, drawing you into your own inner space. And how far does this space extend? It is you, with your consciousness, expanding. You expand and you contract—not the physical body, but the astral body. The astral body maintains a very intimate and strong contact with the physical form. It expands far and then returns. If you are practicing certain techniques, especially kuṇḍalinī, you must remain intensely aware of yourself. Never entertain the thought that you are going somewhere far outside and coming back; that is incorrect. In a sense, you cannot go out alone, for you are always with your body. So three states exist for us, and these we call Jāgrat. This is kuṇḍalinī sādhanā—sādhanā meaning practice. Attempting it for a week or two, attending a seminar, and then stopping is mere amusement. It is play. Better not to waste your time: go swim in the ocean or run a little, that is all. Are you truly serious? Do you truly want it? You read many, many books—excellent books. The one who writes a book, imparting immense concentration and deep knowledge, does not find it easy. Writing a book is difficult. Sometimes we can write one in a week or a month, and then the next book cannot be written for ten years. So, are you earnestly willing to awaken the kuṇḍalinī, or is it merely a casual “yes”? Your experience is vast, and so is mine. This is the first point. Second, only the serious student should be taught by the master. If you are not serious, the master will simply tell pleasing stories, laugh, and say, “Oh, that was very nice,” and that is all. Herein lies the greatest problem between teacher and student. Out of five hundred, only one comes with sincerity. Even that one may, after some time, dissolve. Yet the energy remains, the practice remains, the kuṇḍalinī remains; all the work you have done stays with you. But it is like a tiny infant bird, only three days out of the egg, abandoned by its mother. You are there, but the master has gone—or the master is physically present yet not truly there. This is a grave matter. Otherwise, we are wasting our time and energy, both you and I. Do you understand? Or is it still unclear? You can sit on a chair if you wish. I know many people approach spirituality and yoga in various ways. All rivers ultimately merge into one ocean, so that is fine. Whatever technique you practice is acceptable, but you must remain on that path. If you are with the water of one flowing river, you cannot jump to another. The river carries you onward; if you leave it, you dry up. The master and disciple are like a river and its water. Now, a master comes and says, “I will teach you this,” and initiates you with mantras and practices—very good, perfect. You accept and receive initiation. The next year, someone else comes, offering different techniques and saying, “This is very good,” and you take another initiation. The third year, it changes again. You will not grow this way. It is like planting a seed and then, after some time, uprooting it because you are not satisfied with the spot, and then replanting it elsewhere. The seed dies. Similarly, our time is wasted. Every master is a real master, and every student is a real student. Every mother is a real mother, and her child is truly her child. You cannot treat all other women as your mother or their children as your own. We may regard all with love as if they were our own, but we must know where we belong. This is a challenge in Australia. Many of you were not born when I first came here—maybe only one or two. How many years? Since 1980, now forty years. My teaching here began even five years before that. People are honest and well-meaning, yet they cannot maintain continuity. In other countries, like China, they remain very steady, working and practicing diligently; Mexicans too. But each country is different. I have experience everywhere. This is the first thing, my dear. Secondly, any master who simply gives you a mantra just because you ask is no master at all. If I came and said, “I give you mantras, I give you this and that,” then the response is, “Yes, thank you, I will overthink”—and that is it. When disciples ask, “Can I receive your mantra?”, a true master will say, “Wait, let us see.” The master will reflect. That is the ideal. Once you have a master and receive mantras in the context of spirituality, that master is for your whole life—and not only for this life; the same master will come for you in future lives. So, please do not waver. If you already have a master, I will not give you a mantra. Instead, I will give you support. I will help you and affirm that your master is good; the only shortcoming may be yours. Remember, the master is not your body, and your body is not the master. Knowledge is one thing, the physical body quite another. What is given spiritually is of utmost importance. Therefore, if you have a master and yet come to me, I will respect you deeply and assist you in some way, but I will still say, “My dear, your father is your father.” If you tell me, “My father died,” I will reply, “Yes, your father has died, but still he is with you.” You cannot change masters. My own master has died, yet he did not die—just as you die, yet do not die. The soul and the feelings remain united. And so we grow. We are all one group here. Perhaps she has another master, he has another master, and one has none—but we are all together in a beautiful community. That is good. But carry out your practice exactly as given. Otherwise, it is all right. I travel a great distance, and I offer many questions, answers, books, chakras, and insights into kuṇḍalinī. Within me is an immense ocean of wisdom, and you possess an open heart vast as space. But how will these meet? Do you understand me? If you received a mantra from one master—presuming that master is genuine—then honor that. There are people who dabble in astrology and the like; they are like school teachers, and that is fine. But as for the wisdom of the real guru: I cannot claim “I am a real guru,” nor can you declare that I am your true guru. It is your own heart that will say, “I am a disciple, I am only a disciple.” You are a disciple, and so am I. I sit here only so everyone can see me; otherwise, I would sit among you. My master is the true master; he gave me a duty. When I reach a certain point, then I become a master. This is called a spiritual lineage. It is like the Ganges: we speak of the river originating in the Himālaya, and many rivers and creeks join it as it flows. But the Ganga flows on and on, many streams merging, yet it remains the same Ganga until the Indian Ocean. Similarly, we have many good friends and everything we need, but we must follow our master. When someone says, “I am the master,” inwardly we will say no. Outwardly we thank them and show respect, but the inner voice refuses. I will openly state that I have a master—and where is that master? You will respect and accept that. Do you understand? Our program has concluded, yet some people wish to receive a mantra. The day before yesterday, yesterday, and today people have approached me. So I ask: if you already have a mantra from a true master, do not ask me for another. If you say, “No, I have no master; please give me a mantra,” but in truth you do have one, also please do not do this. I will help you and love you like my own child. But if you genuinely have no mantra and seek one, make certain that you will never change again. If you change, the cosmic energy will become confused. I teach you this with great respect. I am not saying anything wrong. I will assist you in every way, but I cannot give you a mantra when you already possess one. It is like trying to graft a eucalyptus branch onto a banyan tree; one or the other will die. You are truly good people with spiritual thoughts. You are conscious about organic food and healthy eating—that is excellent, and it makes me happy. The only thing I do not like is the tendency to shift from one place to another, today here and tomorrow there. That turns the path into a football, kicked here and there. This is not a game; it is a game for our soul. We do not know through how many lives this soul has traveled. All creatures are good. But now we have an opportunity to lift ourselves up. If we commit negative actions again, we will fall away once more; the soul will pass into another body. This is not in our hands but in the hands of our actions, our karma. I am certain that those sitting here do not do evil things. Yet sometimes it happens: you drive a car, a small animal suddenly appears, and you hit it—a little kangaroo, for instance. Part 2: The Mūlādhāra Chakra and the Awakening of Kuṇḍalinī We do not harm any creature intentionally, and for that we pray. While driving a car, we unknowingly injure so many beings, and we pray, we offer our prayers. In this way, we nurture goodwill and loving feelings for everyone. With that, we come to a question: what of Kuṇḍalinī? So now we turn to the art of all the chakras, beginning with the Mūlādhāra Chakra. Mūlādhāra means “root support.” Mūla is the root, and ādhāra is the basis, the foundation—that upon which we depend and from which we receive. It is the Ādhāra Cakra, the supporting center. As I explained yesterday, the chakras progress from the soles of the feet: the earth chakra from the ankle joints to the knees, the vegetation chakra from the knees to the hips, the animal chakras and energies from there up to the human level, reaching the Viśuddhi Chakra. Then, at the border of the highest reaches, is the Ājñā Cakra—ājñā meaning the gaining, the entrance into knowledge. These chakras can be animalistic in nature or human; the human can reside within the animal, the animal within the vegetation, and all of it can descend to the earth. The qualities are interwoven, and through our development we filter them. This filtering is a sacred process. At the Ājñā, which also means “command,” there are two points: the moon and the sun. Between them descends the supreme, arriving as the Bindu Chakra. Bindu means a dot, a drop, and this drop continuously drips; that single drop is called nectar. If through meditation we can reach the Bindu Chakra, we attain what we wish to attain. Further on lies the Sahasrāra Chakra, the thousand-petaled lotus. I am now focusing on the Mūlādhāra. The picture you see—the Guṇādhar Chakra—is not actually inside your body. Do not say, “Swamiji, I close my eyes and see nothing.” These are symbols bearing meanings. So many things are contained in this one representation. It resembles a lotus. The lotus holds profound significance: it grows in muddy water, yet emerges from the mud exquisitely beautiful. Each chakra has petals, and in Mūlādhāra there are four. In Svādhiṣṭhāna there are six; in others, different numbers, culminating in the thousand-petaled lotus at the crown. An artist once created a depiction with one thousand eight petals—you may have seen it. Every petal has its own quality, and every petal bears one alphabet of the Sanskrit Devanāgarī script. Each letter carries significance for our body, our attitudes, our way of living, and many subtle achievements. This is the essence of Kuṇḍalinī Yoga. Kuṇḍalinī is not a physical movement inside the spine; if you feel something crawling up and down your spinal column, it would be time to consult a doctor. Kuṇḍalinī is the opening of Divine Consciousness. It unfolds purity, clarity, spirituality—everything. Automatically, your entire being develops, and you feel happiness and goodness. That is all. So do not imagine Kuṇḍalinī rushing up and down. Many masters know this, but confusion persists because some misrepresent it. This center of energy lies at the end of our spine. There resides Gaṇeśa, the elephant-headed god. The seat of Gaṇeśa is at the mūlādhāra. Elephant symbolizes strength, solidity. Gaṇeśa—the “Lord of Gaṇas”—Gaṇa refers to the various goddesses or divine qualities. What do we mean by god or goddess? This beautiful flower here is a creation of nature; we can regard it as divine. Everything good—beautiful fragrance, beautiful appearance—is a form of the divine. So Gaṇeśa bestows goodness upon all. Now, Gaṇeśa is sometimes depicted with seven trunks. In India, Africa, and Bali, I have seen elephants, and none had two trunks. People may think Indians invent fairy tales. But consider: you are one person with one body, yet within that body you hold immense wisdom, knowledge, and qualities. Similarly, the seven trunks represent the seven fundamental constituents of the body—Sapta Dhātu in Āyurveda. Dhātu means metals; these are like seven vital metals in the body. If even one is missing, we become ill. When all seven are balanced, we enjoy perfect health. Therefore, at the root of our human existence, at the base of the spine, the best qualities and health begin to develop. Symbolically, the elephant is given seven trunks. This imagery originates from the churning of the ocean in the Satya Yuga, when an elephant with seven trunks emerged, embodying the Saptadhātus. When you visit temples in Bangkok, Hong Kong, or other islands, you may see this iconography. This means: the awakening of Kuṇḍalinī is the restoration of good health. Āsanas, prāṇāyāmas, meditation, concentration, and practices like agnisāra prāṇāyāma all lead to health. What is Kuṇḍalinī awakening? It is health, happiness, and—as one might add—wealth. But wealth here means wisdom. So keep an image of an elephant in your home; it carries very auspicious symbols. Further, the Śivaliṅga is also connected here. If you have been to Nepal, you may have visited the beautiful Paśupati Mahādeva temple. Paśu means animal; Deva means God. This quality blends animal and human energy, and that is why I call the Mūlādhāra a center where animal and human qualities must be balanced. The balancing is central, and then we encounter the popular image of Kuṇḍalinī as a coiled snake with its head downward. I will continue this tomorrow. So, study deeply. Read in this book where all principles are clearly written. The awakening of all energy in the chakras—the ṣaṭdhātu—proceeds from Gaṇeśa’s seat. These are symbols, and we place them to aid understanding. But the reality is within our body; if we mishandle it, everything breaks. Human life is a precious gift, but we must remain alert, conscious, and virtuous. Kuṇḍalinī yoga is the science of body, mind, and soul. Oṁ, Dīp Nār Bhagavānakī. Oṁ Satoma Satgamaya, Soma Jyotirgamaya, Mṛtyurma Amṛtam Gamaya. Sarveṣāṁ Svasti Bhavatu, Sarveṣāṁ Mantir Bhavatu, Sarveṣāṁ Maṅgalam Bhavatu, Sarveṣāṁ Pūrṇam Bhavatu. Loka Samasta Sukhino Bhavantu. Nāhaṁ Kartā. Prabhu Dīp Karatā Mahāprabhujī Dīp Karatā He Kevalam. Om Śāntiḥ Śāntiḥ...