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Part 1: The Essence of Satsaṅg and the Inner Path Salutations to the Cosmic Self. Salutations to Śrī Alakhpurījī, Siddhā Pīṭha Paramparā. Praṇāms to our beloved Gurudev, His Holiness, Viśvagurū Mahāmaṇḍaleśvara Maheśvarānandapurījī. Good evening to all. What makes a place beautiful, nice, or livable? It is not the place itself, nor merely the energies it holds. It is the love and support which all of you give. When we sit here together, we bring that joy and those energies to this place. The grace and blessings of Gurudev are always present, but what fills this place with light and joy is all of us—gathering, uniting, and becoming one. We each have our individual paths and daily duties. We come from different places around the world or within New Zealand, with different responsibilities. Yet, we still try to find time for things that bring us happiness—not merely external pleasure, but the inner happiness we are all seeking. When we come together and join here, that becomes satsaṅg. As I have explained in many gatherings, satsaṅg is a compound word. In Hindi, saṅg means gathering, and sat means truth. Therefore, a gathering full of truth, positivity, and joy is satsaṅg. Conversely, a place of negativity, wrongdoing, and lies is kusaṅg. The choice between satsaṅg and kusaṅg is the first step toward inner happiness and fulfillment. This choice arises from our vivekā—the intuitive power to discern right from wrong. We all possess this faculty of decision-making. God gave us two ears and a brain between them to process information: we take in what we like and let go of what we do not. This vivekā is crucial in daily life for making right decisions. Sometimes we think we know everything. That is our ego speaking—the notion that nothing is higher than us and we know absolutely all. But I do not know everything, and neither do you. We learn something from each other every day. There is always something new to discover, something more beautiful to learn. No one is higher or lower; we are one beautiful family having a discussion about something new or revisiting what we already know. Repetition is valuable. In school, teachers make us read the same chapter repeatedly until we remember it. Similarly, every time I read a bhajan—a devotional song—even after 26 years, I learn something new. Even if my lectures seem repetitive, or if Swāmījī has been teaching the same principles for 50 years, each time we listen, we can catch something we missed before. Whether discussing the four paths of yoga, the eight limbs, or inner happiness, repetition offers fresh insights. Vivekā is about choice. It is our choice what to do with our lives—whether to go out to a party or come here for a beautiful time. What makes it beautiful? Singing, listening, and feeling joy from within. External joy comes from many sources: the beach, travel, concerts, or parties. That joy fades by morning or lasts a day or two. The deeper meaning of life, the fulfillment we seek, is within us all. It is a matter of awakening it, of turning that inner switch on. We often think we can do this alone, but in reality, we need guidance—just as we needed parents to teach us to walk, or teachers in school. On the spiritual path, we need a Guru. He is the bridge or the boat that helps us cross the wavy ocean. It is not that we lack the potential within; deep meditation or silence may open something. But to fully activate and open everything, we need a guide. You may call this guide a higher spirit or a guru. From my experience, we need that catalyst for the click to happen. We can activate much through reading books, but reading without understanding or embodying the teachings is insufficient. We can read the same book ten times, but our innocent, ignorant mind may miss deeper meanings. For that, we need explanations that go beyond the written word. Scriptures and techniques abound, but there is knowledge hidden beneath the superficial, physical level. Each time we reread a text, we may connect with something new. Most of the time, we are seeking peace and joy. The question is whether we want it temporarily or long-term. Temporary peace and joy can be achieved through māyā—illusion, the material world. I always say, do not run away from māyā. How do you translate māyā in English? Illusion. But this materialistic world is part of our reality. We cannot just run away; we must work with it, use it rightly. Running away does not help. If we have something, like wealth, we have two choices: spend it on fleeting pleasures or utilize it for good—for nature, humanity, charity. When used properly, it affects us positively. If wasted, we become stuck, always wanting more. As human beings, we always want more. But there is a difference between wanting and needing. Most often, we want, not need. We usually have more than enough. That is santoṣa—contentment. We know we have it, and it is enough. Yet, our eyes and tongue are bigger than our belly. We see a pink boba tea and think, "That looks nice," and try it, only to find it not good. That is vivekā—choosing wisely. No one is perfect. We all have flaws and desires to experiment. We must realize the difference between needing and wanting. Most of the time, we have everything we need to sustain our lives. If we have trust and faith, what we need will come, from wherever. In recent years, as I worked on giving up wanting things—it is a process for all of us—I learned that once we say, "I am okay with this," life moves. Things function. You may not get the exact specifics you wanted, but it is functional and more than enough. As I always say, the neighbor’s grass looks greener because we do not know how much pesticide they used. Our grass may be patchy, but it is organic and good. Let us be happy with that. If we have a bicycle and our neighbor has a motorbike, our inner enemies arise: krodha (anger), kāma (lust), lobha (greed), moha (delusion), mada (pride), mātsarya (jealousy), ahaṅkāra (ego), and īrṣā (envy). We want the motorbike. Then we get it, and the neighbor has a car. The loop continues with a car, a Lamborghini, a helicopter, a private jet—it is never enough. We will never be satisfied until we realize we have enough to live and be happy. But what is happiness? Is it having everything externally but nothing inside? Or having nothing but being happy within? I know well-off friends who are not truly happy, and friends with modest means who are deeply happy, living in smaller homes with many family members, cooking, eating, and discussing together. That is true happiness. A fancy mansion with servants but disconnected family members is not happiness. It is having wealth but not knowing what to do with it, leading to distraction and sadness. I personally disagree that money buys happiness. I believe contentment comes from within, from acceptance rather than expectation. When we expect things from others or ourselves and those expectations are not met, anger and disappointment arise. Anger harms only us, eating us alive from within. Shouting at someone who is at peace within does not affect them; it only wastes our energy. Consider brahmacarya. People immediately reference celibacy, but brahmacarya means self-control—not just sexually, but also controlling anger and other impulses. It means not shouting at someone, even when stuck in traffic with someone honking behind you. Just turn up the music and enjoy. Reacting violently only destroys our inner peace. In close quarters with family, arguments and dysfunction are normal. How we deal with it is our choice. How we react is our choice. No one is forcing us. If we want to do something, we do it. If not, we do not. No guru drags you by the hand, saying you must follow or your life will be a disaster. Coming to satsaṅg is your wish. Gaining something from it is your wish. We do things because we feel an inclination, a pull. Consistency is again our choice. Patañjali’s Yoga Sūtras begin with yogaḥ citta vṛtti nirodhaḥ—yoga is the cessation of the fluctuations of the mind. He never said this is the only path. He invited experimentation: if you like it, follow it; if not, do not. It is simple. You like yoga classes? Enjoy them. You do not? There are many other paths. Nothing binds or glues us to a path; it is about what feels right, what brings inner peace. To find that inner peace, we need something higher than ourselves. We may know everything intellectually, but we need someone to open that channel, to make everything flow. We all look up to someone—parents, friends, a role model in our field. In every aspect of life, someone teaches us. Enlightenment is not instant; mokṣa (liberation) is not instant. The only instant thing here is instant coffee. Ṛṣis and munis meditated for years; techniques have been passed down. How we use them is up to us. We come to a spiritual path seeking a higher meaning, something not achievable in normal daily living. Yet, these paths can be integrated. A normal householder can become enlightened; you do not need to wear orange, renounce marriage, or lecture others. But you need a guide to show the way. The eight limbs of yoga are: Yama, Niyama, Āsana, Prāṇāyāma, Pratyāhāra, Dhāraṇā, Dhyāna, and Samādhi. Yama and Niyama are the do’s and don’ts. Āsana is the physical postures. Prāṇāyāma is breath control. Pratyāhāra is withdrawal of the senses. Dhāraṇā is concentration. Dhyāna is meditation. Samādhi is the deepest meditative state, which we all wish to experience, even momentarily. But we cannot jump directly to Samādhi; we must start with the foundations. Yama includes principles like ahiṃsā (non-violence). Non-violence is not merely refraining from physical harm like punching someone. It also means refraining from speech that hurts others. It includes self-love. Love is a big word we use easily, but true feeling is essential. If I did not love carrying forward Gurudev’s message, my speaking here would be meaningless. If we do not love ourselves, we cannot fully love others or nature. Ahimsa applies to ourselves. Saying, "I am not good enough," is a form of self-harm. We must accept that we are the best versions of ourselves. The ātmā (soul) is ajar and amar—immortal. Everything else is perishable. This body, this life, will pass. Just as we choose clothing from a closet each morning, the ātmā chooses a body. When the ātmā unites with Paramātmā (the Supreme Spirit), that union liberates us. A guide helps facilitate that union. Guru literally means "from darkness to light"—one who brings us from any darkness, internal or external. We must realize that all things shall pass; nothing is permanent. As the bhajans say, money, palaces, houses—all will stay behind. Only our good deeds and karmas accompany us, along with the love and respect we earned. Yet we remain attached to material things, thinking they are our pride and will free us. They do not; they bind us tighter, like a spider’s web. The more an insect struggles, the more entangled it becomes. Similarly, we become entangled in the illusory, material world. Instead of trying to run away, we must work with it and move forward. Integrating spiritual aspects into daily life is key to inner joy and peace. This does not mean immediately bowing before an altar. Start with simple practices: chanting, sitting in the presence of bhajans and kīrtans, entering a meditative state, or practicing prāṇāyāma. Begin with Yama and Niyama. After ahiṃsā comes asteya (non-stealing). Non-stealing is not just about robbing a bank. Stealing someone’s time by talking incessantly, or stealing someone’s happiness, is also a violation. It is not merely physical theft. Part 2: The Yamas and Niyamas in Daily Life If we are stealing something from someone in any possible way, physically or mentally, that is also stealing. Then there is Aparigraha. Yes, and Satya. But Aparigraha—how would you translate that? Not accumulating, which we already discussed. Then Satya: truth. Simply say the truth. But it doesn't mean we say, "Oh, I'm just being honest," in a way that might really affect or hurt another person. That is also not the best idea, because that is putting other things in place. So we try not to hurt someone. It doesn't mean we have to be so brutally honest that it negatively affects others. So Satya means to be truthful. It is better to be truthful than to say one line and then make up a hundred lies to cover the first lie. That is truth. Then there is Svādhyāya. Svādhyāya means repetition. We somewhat touched on this: even if we know something, even if we have heard something, it is okay to do Svādhyāya. Svādhyāya means to repeat, repeat, repeat again and again. This includes the mantra we chant with our mālā. A mantra is a chant, a vibration, something that is much deeper than just the words. Why do we repeat it again and again? Because that energy then flows within us. So Svādhyāya is very important. Then there is Īśvarapraṇidhāna. That, I think, is in the Niyamas. So, the Yamas and Niyamas are the don'ts and do's, the initial stages. We all practice these in our day-to-day life. Maybe we just don't know the Sanskrit meaning of what we are doing, but we are in one way or another practicing all these things. But do we implement them in the right way or not? That is upon us to decide. No one else is going to decide what is right and what is wrong except ourselves. And that clarity, that right path we need to choose, is upon us. The Four Types of Kṛpā There are four types of Kṛpās. Kṛpā means blessings. Our Holy Gurujī, Swamijī's master—his photo is completely on the left—he used to say there are four types of blessings. As said in Indian mythology or in the Śāstras, our scriptures, there are four types of blessings. The first blessing is the blessing of the gods or goddesses: that we got this human life. It is said that there are 8.4 million creatures in this world, all different types. They are divided into three aspects: Jalchar, Nabchar, and Thalchar. Jalchar means those who live in water. Thalchar means those who live on land. Nabchar means those who live in the sky. All these different types of insects and creatures, big and small, are part of this world. After crossing all of these, finally we are given this human birth. So, when we got this human birth, we should take care of it. We should nurture it and take it forward in the right manner, not wasting our time. That is why it is said the first kṛpā, or first blessing, is the blessing of the God and Goddesses that we got this human birth. Then comes the second kṛpā, the second blessing, which is Śāstra Kṛpā, the blessings of the scriptures. Any type of knowledge which we are getting within us, any type of knowledge which goes within our brains—whether from school, college, books, any book—if that knowledge is going within us, that is the blessing, the kṛpā, of the scripture. The third one is Guru Kṛpā, which means the blessings, guidance, and protection of a master. When we have that, we are in ultimate bliss. But he said the fourth blessing is the most important: khud kī kṛpā, the blessings or the guidance from ourselves. Because no one will push us, no one will force us. At the end of the day, it is our decision to make a certain choice. It is our willingness, our pull towards a certain thing, whether we want to do it or not. That implements in anything and everything in our lives. The Nature of Worry and the Mind But worries stop us in between. We are worried about this and that. The worries are created by us; no one else is creating them. Again, a repetition for those who were in Auckland: in reality, maybe 0.1% of the things we imagine might happen will actually happen. Most of the time, we are just worrying about things that do not exist or that may not even happen. But our mind, subconsciously or consciously, is thinking about many things. That is why our mind is called a monkey mind. Why? Because a monkey is restless, and in the same way our mind is restless. How many of you have been to Australia? Yeah, that's why I picked something nearby. And how many of our minds are now in Australia, imagining something there? The thing is, we are here. We are sitting in satsaṅg, we are listening, we are talking, we are in this beautiful company, but our mind can be so fast it can go anywhere. If we are concentrated towards something we are doing, it doesn't matter what we do, our mind and consciousness should be aligned in what we are doing. If we are sitting together in this satsaṅg-like atmosphere, then we should be present here. But thoughts arise: "Did I leave my car on? Did I leave my AC on? Did I fold my bedding before getting out of bed? Did I leave the coffee machine on? I need to do this and that. When I get back home, I need to cook dinner for my family. Is my kid fine on the other side of the world?" So many thoughts come. Someone came to Swamījī and said, "Oh, I did my mālā for the past three years, and I believe that I'm enlightened." He said, "Yeah, try doing your mālā for three minutes without a phone, then we'll see." That's the problem. We are distracted by many things, and our mind being restless makes it much harder for us to concentrate. But when we practice concentration, which is dhāraṇā, we activate certain things which calm us down. This again comes back to the inner peace and inner joy we are looking for, because until we are focused and concentrated on the thing we are doing, we won't find or feel that peace. Or if we do feel it, it will be very momentary. If we want long-term peace, we need to be focused on whatsoever we are doing. When we are on our phones, be concentrated on that. I don't say don't use your phones—I also use mine—but concentrate on that specific thing. Now we are here, let's enjoy and be together. When we are at home with our family, with our children, with our partner, with ourselves, let's then enjoy that time. Everything has time and space. When we are here, this is the time and space for us to be here. When you're at home, you have those things. Everything has a certain time and space to be done. Clouds and the Blue Sky Whatever happens, happens for a reason. Whatever happens is happening for our good. As I said previously, the blue sky is us; the clouds are the problems. If it's white clouds like they are now, it's okay. If it's slightly darker, grayish clouds, those are some problems. Dark, heavy, black clouds, thundering and raining, are big problems. But did you ever see any cloud stay in one space, one place, for a longer period of time? In the same way, the blue sky is constant. That is our life. The clouds come and go, so problems come and go. Life without problems would become boring. Do we like boring? No. That's why we create problems for ourselves to make our life not boring anymore. Why? Because who likes boring? We like more juice, more masala, as we call it in India. We want something happening in our lives, and if nothing happens, we create something to make it happen. We just know that blue sky is there. Maybe it's not visible for a certain period of time, but it is there. Clouds come and go, so problems will come and go. Nothing is permanent. But the problem with us is that when happy moments are there, we don't enjoy them. What do we do? Our mind makes us think, "What will happen after this? Which problem is waiting around the corner?" And when sad moments come, we do the same thing. We don't then think about the future positively; we think, "Oh, how deeper can this go? How worse can it get?" So are we trying to find happiness ever? Because when there is happiness, we are more worried about when it will end. And when there are sad moments, we are just getting deeper and deeper into it. So just know: when sad moments come, know that this too shall pass. Happy moments will come. And when happy moments are there, try to enjoy them instead of being worried about when they will end and what is next. Our life is a constant journey, but how we live it is in our hands. Again, we are living it. We are the ones living that life. We all have our own individual lives and our individual way of living. But how do we live it? It is in our hands. As they have always said, "World peace." World peace is in our hands. So when we want world peace or inner peace or any type of peace, it is in our hands. He or me or someone cannot just give you, throw peace at you, and now you're going to be peaceful and happy. The techniques are taught, but whether we follow those techniques or not is our wish. We, or Madhuramjī or Sevadhī or all yoga teachers sitting here, can say, "This pose is good for your back, and this pose is good for this." It's in the book and we read it and say, "Okay, good." But if we practice it, we might feel the difference. If we don't practice it, we don't see the difference. So it is for us to practice or not to practice something. It is for us to follow or not to follow something. I'm not saying to blindly follow something you don't know, but give it a shot. There's no harm in that. There's no harm in experimenting. You have experienced and experimented with so many things in your lifespan; experimenting with something more is not going to harm you. How many of you experimented with very interesting things at my age? Just go back in your head and imagine what all you were doing when you were 26. So, trying something which will give us inner peace—some techniques like mantra, like just listening. You know, even when I say, when people ask, "Oh, what is the meaning of this mantra?" I said, "You don't need to know the meaning. Just close your eyes and enjoy the energy which flows through." Close your eyes—I'm not forcing you to, it's again your wish—but if you wish, please do. The Power of Mantra Namo sananta. Just feel the energy of the mantra. Just try to. You don't need to understand a single word of it; just feel it. Feel the energy flowing through your body. Namo svānantāya sahasra-mūrtaye, sahasra-pādākṣi-śīroruhāve, sahasra-nāmne jalāśāyine, namo ’stu keśavānanta vāsudeva namo ’stu te vāsanāt. Vāsudevasya vāsitambhuvanatrayaṁ, sarva-bhūta-nivāso si Vāsudeva, namas te śaṅkaram Śaṅkarācāryaṁ, keśavam Bādarāyaṇaṁ, sūtra-bhāṣyakṛtau vande bhagavantau punah punah. Īśvarau guru-rāj meti mūrti-veda-vibhāgine. We owe, my, what we have today, hiya Dakṣa namo, today namo, guru rāma guru. Viṣṇu guru Devo Maheśvara guru sākṣāt para brahma tasmai śrī guru vena maha mannātha śrī jagannātha madhguru śrī jagadguru mama ātmā sarva bhūta ātmā tasmai śrī guru vena maha akhaṇḍa maṇḍala kāraṁ yaptaṁ yena... Even if we understand the meaning of a mantra, or even if we don't, these are some vibrations, some sound, which affect us internally. They may give us different feelings, different understandings. We don't need to understand the literal meaning of what the mantra chant means, but it has certain healing powers. Like, let's say, the Mahāmṛtyuñjaya Mantra. That is for the longevity of life, for health. These things can be given by the Mahāmṛtyuñjaya Mantra. So, even if we can chant it or not, even if we just listen to it: "Oṃ Tryambakaṃ Yajāmahe Sugandhiṃ Puṣṭivardhanam... Uruvarukam eva bandhanāt mṛtyor mokṣīyam amṛtat." This is for long health, for health and long life. There are so many mantras. All these mantras are not a religious practice. It's not something that you need to follow, but it is the vibration which can be felt if we are doing some rituals. If we are doing it without trust, nothing happens without faith, without trust. If you don't trust a person and that person says, "Can I borrow your car?" you don't have trust, so why would you? But if you have trust, you lend the car, you get your job done, and things function. For that, you need to have trust. In the same way, when you trust something or someone... If you would like a chair, there's a chair; you can sit on the chair. You're okay? Cool. So, when you have trust or faith, then many things move on. When we don't have trust and faith, then many times it may feel like we are stuck, or we wonder, "Why are we here? What are we doing?" Self-Inquiry and Surrender "What are we doing?" is a good question. The Bhagavad Gītā and Śaṅkarācārya said we need to ask these questions to ourselves: Who am I? Why am I here? What is the reason for my existence? From where did I originate? These are self-inquiry questions. We have to ask ourselves these. Then the answer comes: that Aham, which means "I", is not that egoistic "I". This is the realization that I am the Brahman. Brahman means I am that Ātmā, and that ātmā, that soul, is uniting or wanting to unite with the Paramātmā. When ātmā and Paramātmā, which means the soul and the higher spirit, unite, that blossoms something much deeper, much more beautiful. That realization is given or helped to achieve by the grace of a master. In simple language, we are in an illusion, a delusion: māyā, an illusional world which is a sea. In that sea, there is a boat. Here is another example: there is a river and there is a thin plank. A child is walking on the plank. But when he holds the hand of his parents, he has that trust and faith that nothing will happen to him, and he will cross that plank very easily. We have fear; we are scared; there are many emotions. In the same way, when we have that trust and faith within that master, within our guru, he helps us cross. But it is our choice if we want to step foot into that boat. Once we do step foot in that boat, then we know that this all wavy, illusional world of this ocean will be easily crossed. Why? Because we have trust and faith. We sing in our prayers every day about Lord Rāma and Lord Kṛṣṇa, who were incarnations of Lord Viṣṇu. When they incarnated into this world, they also had to find a guru. Why? Because without a guru, many things are not possible. But I'm not telling you that you need to find one. I'm not telling you what you need to do. It is your inner viveka, your intellect, telling you what is right or what is wrong. Many things move, many things function when we have some type of guidance in our life, some deeper guidance. Many may say, "We know everything, we have everything." That is our ego speaking. Every time there is something new to learn, so there is no harm in testing. Call it a testing period. You like it, you don't like it—up to you. Give it a chance. There's no harm in giving things a chance. But is there a harm in giving up? The Spiritual Climb and Inner Enemies In the same way as you're climbing a mountain or a tall building with many staircases: when we get tired, we sit down, we take a break, we drink water. We don't just run down the mountain back and let everything go down the drain. No, we take a break. In the same way, in life, challenges come. In our spiritual path, challenges come. What do we do? We sit down, take a break, drink some water, whatever you need. Take your time, and then continue going upwards. But these inner enemies—jealousy, ego, anger—they are not doing any harm to others. They are just pulling us down, pulling our positive energies, our spiritual practices. Everything goes down the drain when these things awaken, and it is much harder to climb up again. Then again something happens and you go back down. So when you feel anger, try to understand: Why do we feel that anger? Why are we angry at someone? Why is that emotion being awakened? I was talking with someone a few days back, and we gave it a name: buffer period. When those emotions awake, take a break, step back, and realize why that emotion has awakened within you. Why is that? Is it you, or is it the other person, or are you projecting something from the other person? There's always a reason why something is happening, even within us, why our emotions are aroused. It doesn't matter what type of emotions. Understand that, and then react to it. It helps me personally a lot after I followed that—I call it the buffer period. When something comes, don't react immediately. Take a step back, understand the whole situation, then see what to do and what not. Because in the heat of the moment, our first reaction might not be the best decision. But when we give it a chance, when we step back, when we understand the situation, when we believe in the higher spirit—or whatever you want to believe in; for me, I believe in my master—and I believe that I am not the doer; He is the doer. When we understand that this ātmā, this body, is not the doer—the ātmā, the soul, is the one who is observing—then we see that whatever is happening will happen. Whatever will not happen will not happen. It's not in our hands. Living in the Present Can we see the future? I can't. Can we? No. Can we go back in the past and change the past? No. So, if we can't do it, then why do we bother thinking about it so much? What happened in the past? We are human beings; we all make mistakes. If we wouldn't make mistakes, we would be gods, not humans. So if we make mistakes, it's good. It's an indication that we are humans. Congratulations. So if we are making mistakes, we learn from them, and we learn how not to repeat them. We don't go into that regret mode and destroy half of our day or half of our life contemplating, "Why did we do it?" We did it. It happened. Past—let it go. I know letting go is hard. Once we do, and once we surrender—I'm not saying you need to surrender; I'm saying I did that. It works for me. You want to do it, up to you. But once I surrendered and I said, "My problems are yours, my happiness is yours, my sadness is yours, everything of mine is yours," my life became much simpler. People ask me, "What are you thinking about?" I love this answer. They don't love it; I love it. I say, "Nothing." They say, "How can you think about nothing?" I said, "I don't know, but I just don't." My life is much more peaceful after I started surrendering. It works for you, doesn't work for you—that's your personal thing. It works for me; I'm happy with that. That is something that gives me inner joy and inner peace. Letting go of things is sometimes hard: letting go of relationships, letting go of friendships, letting go of thoughts, letting go of this and that. But once we do, life becomes much more pleasant, much more peaceful, and we find or feel that inner joy. But most of the time we are holding on to something, some emotion. We are holding on to something that happened in the past. Until we don't let that specific memory, or specific thing, or whatever we're holding on to go, we won't feel that something has dropped off and we have become much lighter. But until we hold on, that is attachment. Attachment is not, "Oh, I'm attached to my beard," which I was last year. So attachment is not just when I was growing my hair and thought, "Oh, I liked my hair." Yeah, that is also attachment, but I'm talking about the attachment which is harming us from inside. This beard and hair were shaved off this year; next year I'll grow it again—it doesn't matter. That attachment is different. The attachment I'm talking about is the inner attachment, where we are holding on to something which is somewhere deep within. When we let go of that, we will feel much lighter. We all have something inside of us which we are attached to, which we are holding on to. Are you grasping on? Let that go, and you'll feel that peace. And the future? "I wish I will do this, that's all." You know that? "I wish for this to happen. What if this will happen?" If it's the future, we don't know it, we don't see it. Let it be. When it comes, we'll deal with it. Until it doesn't come, let it be. Enjoy, be now, here in the moment. Be happy, be present in whatever we are doing. But it's hard to let things go. It's hard to just be. But try to be doing nothing. Try to just be in the moment. You will feel that peace. You'll see that whatever you're doing, if you are concentrated in that specific thing while doing it, without worrying and wondering about absolutely everything else in the world, you will start feeling that joy. You will start feeling that peace. But until we are distracted—which all of us are; that's human nature—like, I'm sitting here and there's a bird chirping there, my thought will go there. No, I'm here. Things around us will always happen. Even if you're sitting in meditation and something smashes in the kitchen, let it be. What will go wrong if you just let it be? It doesn't matter if someone else dropped it. It doesn't matter if the wind dropped it. Whatever it is can be dealt with afterwards. Right now, I'm focused on meditating. Or right now, I'm focused on reading. Or right now, I'm focused on work. It doesn't matter how boring that work is, but it has to be done, so let's just concentrate on it with full feeling and understanding. Let's get it done, and then we are free to do other things. But if you're working and have in our minds a hundred billion different things we want to do or have to do later, we won't concentrate, and it will take much longer to finish whatever we are doing. So the first step is to try—I'm not saying let it go—but try to let things go. Let things happen in their own pace, in their own speed, and their own way. Things will move on. Life moves on—let alone relationships, let alone a million other things. Everything has to move on, even us as human beings. We have to move on. The Cycle of Life and Liberation But hopefully, at least, our ultimate goal is to be free from this circle of death and birth. Samjī gave a very nice example which I use in most of my lectures: First, we are in mother's lap and cradle: mother's lap, cradle, mother's lap, cradle. Then after that, school, home, school, home... Then, finally, you're done with that, like me. Then we think we are free. Then it's work, home, work, home... Work. Then finally, after we hit a certain age, then what? Pension? But Swamijī used to say, "Retirement pension, whatever." But Swamijī used to say, "It's not pension; it's tension." Why is it tension? Because then we start with hospital, home, hospital, home, hospital, home. Then finally, when we are done with that, we think we are free: we die. But we are not, because then it's death and birth, death and birth, death and birth. But when we have a higher understanding of ourselves, when we move on to that spiritual journey and that spiritual path, we realize that this ātmā is the one which is immortal, and the rest everything is mortal. And when we are not attached to it, then hopefully we get freed from this circle of death and birth, and we can attain the higher consciousness, which is liberation and mokṣa, which frees us from this cycle. I know it sounds very deep, very nice. It's not something negative which I'm talking about. Death comes to all of us; it's not something that we can avoid. So what's wrong in talking about it? And it is true that this cycle is there: if you die, you'll be born; if you'll be born, you will die. The body is not permanent; the ātmā, the soul, is permanent. But again, attachment towards this body is something we are attached to. Attachment to this shawl, or "I like the shawl," that's also attachment. Anything that we are attached to will hold us back from progressing in our spiritual path. But to lighten the mood, I will ask Madhuramjī now to sing something with some kīrtan. Most of the time when I'm speaking, it's not me speaking. That's what I say when I sit on this; then it's... I just believe Nām Kartā, and what comes through comes through. Once I'm off this, then it's me. So don't mind me speaking whatever, because it flows. That's the meaning of paramparā, that's the meaning of lineage. That means that it flows. You close your eyes and you believe that there is someone else, and then they channel through. It's on me. Once I'm off this, then I'll be a different 26-year-old kid who will be talking to you.