TV Channel

Nā’ham karatā, prabhu dīp karatā, Mahāprabhujī dīp karatā hai. Kevalam Oṁ Śāntiḥ Śāntiḥ... Good evening, dear sisters and brothers, to all yoga practitioners and daily life around the world, and to all yogīs, yoga teachers, and yoga students from various centers, ashrams, and gurus—we offer our Oṁ Namo Nārāyaṇa. Om Namaḥ Nārāyaṇa. Now, let us all say the prayer together. This prayer is very short and very beautiful. It is offered for you, O Mahāprabhujī, O Gurudev; we are all doing this for you and blessing you. And Gurudev, please give us your blessing. The sun slowly goes to sleep, and will awaken again for others. For us, it seems to sleep, but it is not sleeping. The sun, Sūrya, is present all twenty-four hours. Similarly, great saints and gurus never truly sleep. They are not just for one person, but for the whole, for all. That is why Mahāprabhujī composed such beautiful bhajans. This one concerns our meditations—different kinds of meditation, especially when we lie down. It is so wonderful: after working all day, the sun sets. After sunset, everyone goes to sleep. But bhaktas and yogīs also lie down, yet they remain awake; their awareness embraces all people, without distinction, and even other creatures and animals. This is the great oneness. How many hairs do we have on our body? Every single hair is happy and wants to be with us, clinging to the body. Similarly, our breath—inhaling and exhaling—we do not sleep day and night, yet sleep is also essential. We call it nidrā, sleep. In this nidrā, do not go empty-handed. When we were jāgrata (awake), we worked all day. Now, as everyone sleeps, we yogīs also sleep. But they continue constantly with the breath: inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. You may see great saints appearing to sleep. No, they are awake; they simply allow the nervous system and all body parts to relax while the awareness remains. It is said, “O Nidrā, do not come to me. Go elsewhere, you who bring laziness.” Without that, I abide in devotion, oneness, love. That is yoga nidrā. We have a beautiful bhajan; please listen carefully and learn every word. It is in Hindi, but many words you already know. Gurudev, though I never saw Mahāprabhujī, said, “Mahāprabhujī, I did not see him, for I was born later.” Mahāprabhujī passed away in 1963. Before that, he wrote this bhajan and gave this message to Holy Gurujī and all his disciples. The Guru, who grants study, is the one who gives everything. And the Guru said, “I am not yours. Why? Because I am yours—for everyone, like each and every cell in the body. We nurture this body, and it is constant, all wealth, everything, and it never ends.” But it is not that I wrote this or displayed something when I did not. It is in the books of Holy Gurujī and Mahāprabhujī, many of them. Do not sleep. Go forward. When we meditate and concentrate, we may sleep and awaken; but where is our ātmā? That ātmā, that jīva, is always awake. Yet it seems unable to go out. All our nāḍīs (subtle channels) in the body encircle the ātmā, the jīva, and we direct various feelings toward it. Thus we become bound. Bound by all this saṃsāra. What is saṃsāra? It has two meanings. First, saṃsāra means that as humans we busy ourselves here and there. It is as if we have caught and held on; we cannot go, nor do we let go. In that, the jīva or soul—we can also call it ātmā—the ātmā moves toward Paramātmā. It is like an ocean and a drop of water: they become one, yet remain separate. So we are bound in that. And that bond is constituted by the feelings of our entire body. We are bound by countless things. Right now, many of you are sitting here thinking about what you would like to have or get rid of. This attachment is not only to humans but to many objects, everything. Even building a house becomes a burden. And trees, vegetables, so many things—we become attached. For example, we are attached to a cherry tree. When beautiful blossoms appear, we gaze at “our” cherries. Then fruits come, and we say, “Oh, how nice,” and they turn a little yellow. “Oh, they are beautiful!” But many fall. Then comes a beautiful, dark, bright color. So from the moment we become attached to the tree, longing grows: leaves, plums—all very nice, very nice. Some have a cat, some a dog, some a tiger, a lion, a mouse, or good friends. Love is love. So we are bound by that attachment. Attachment means we are completely bound. Recently, a husband of some bhaktas from that place passed away. He had worked, earned money, traveled to many countries, and seen many things around the world. Returning home, he thought about many things and then gave up. He gave everything up—even his house, he left and went away. Whatever money or possessions, he gave them away, and said, “Please do not perform any ceremonies for my death.” He gave up, meaning he released. He didn’t want to talk to anyone; then he would talk, but not fully—“come to come, not come.” Such a person is called niradhārī (one without support). It is not an easy path. At least, it is a test. For example, yesterday after satsaṅg I went to Vienna. In the afternoon I returned—it was not 25 hours, yet in attachment I was attached to all of you. I was thinking: what techniques are you practicing? Did someone go and sleep under the trees? Was the satsaṅg not proper? And Uma Purī was speaking; I don’t know what she was talking about. It is like a mother who carries the memory of a little child in her womb. Now you see how attachment is. What about that attachment with her husband? They are both attached. Then both said, “Oh my God, now we can’t go anywhere.” Many things we are attached to, we want to have. And from the day they know they want a child, what happens until then? Until death, they are bound to themselves, their child, their children, and their children’s children. A few days ago I met a person. In one way it was great, but of course, in other ways, we have done what we should have done; yet we should have given everything. Indeed, we have done much, but we should be able to have a small overview of it. So yoga is a good movement for the body—physical, mind, breath, all five elements. But beyond that, we cannot give up the five elements. And there is that sense of “I am. I am great.” So this attachment is great. Therefore, what Mahāprabhujī said in this beautiful bhajan: Yogī Janakī Yoga. Only yogīs can attain this, not others. And what you practice daily, yoga nidrā—but in that yoga nidrā, many are snoring. They sleep unaware, yet they know they are sleeping, and that is great. When the master gives instructions, he knows that the sleeper is already awake. That means it was an awakening. So, Jāgrata, Suṣupta, and Svapna—in these three we roll. Twenty-four hours we are in these three states: awake, deep sleep, dreaming. In dreaming we keep working; whatever we do, we go somewhere or dream of a friend, God, or father. So this jīvātmā, this jīva, the soul, is in this situation. It is like a parrot in a cage; sometimes it looks out at other birds flying free. But it cannot go—its wings are clipped. What are these clipped wings? Our attachment to the second. So yoga is not merely āsana and prāṇāyāma. It is to go completely in freedom to God who dwells inside. Otherwise, we suffer more, and in that suffering we will come back again. In all religions, great saints—everyone thinks God exists. But have you seen? I have not seen, because there is no one to see. Each and every one is there. One drop of wind is there; this is the beautiful life. Slowly, slowly we should move from attachment to detachment. So it is very nice what Mahāprabhujī said.