A Moment From a Past Age

When we were in Munger, at the Bihar School of Yoga, Swami-ji was giving satsang. That's why we'd gone at that particular time. It also happened to be Navaratri, so there was a bit of a festival vibe, and even at Munger, I suspect things were a little more relaxed than normal.
Swami-ji would talk to us in the mornings in the main practice hall. This was always good. He spoke on a wide variety of subjects, but I can't remember anything really. It just washed over me. I was just enthralled at being so close to him.
Every ray of sunlight that reflects off him and enters my eyes is an incredible blessing. And that's all I was aware of.
Swami-ji also gave satsangs in the evening, in the courtyard. These were less formal somehow, and it was nice to sit in the cool dark evening, and just let his voice wash over.
One evening, we had all gathered in the courtyard, and a bunch of swamis came and started to usher us out of the courtyard, and across the car parking area. They were obviously excited. They were quite thorough in forming us into lines, and giving instructions. One of them told me that we had all been invited into a very special space. We were all going into swami-ji's garden, where there was a small room with some precious objects. Only one or two of the resident swami's had ever been allowed into the space. Normally it was off limits to everyone in the ashram.
We walked across the car park and after waiting in line, we passed though a gap in some bushes, and through a gate...and into wonderland!
It was dark, but hot, but as we entered the garden, the temperature dropped five degrees, with cool grass and gently swaying trees all around. And lights. Hundreds upon hundreds of buter lamps, all around the garden, twinkling like stars, and giving a beautiful golden glow to the whole scene.
It was simply breathtaking.
We were lead around the garden in a long line, past a central area with a couple of Murtis, and into and through the small building. The atmosphere in the building was intense. There was lots of incense smoke, but there was much else besides. I'm quite familiar with the trappings of Hinduism and Yoga, but there only a few things I recognised, such as sphatica mala and linga, some yantras etc. Some other things were simply mysterious. It felt like a tremendous privilege (which of course it was) just to be there.
After this we all sat in he garden whilst Swami-ji gave his satsang.
To say he was delightful that evening would like saying the Mona Lisa is a pretty picture. It would be like saying Mount Everest is a hill.
Those who know Swami-ji will know he has a great sense of humour. This evening he was on form. He told us a delightful story, filled with humour. At one point he was laughing so much, he couldn't get his words out. Everyone was literrally in tears of laughter. We were in the palm of his hand, and we were putty. He told the tale with mastery, eventually leading us around to the gentle moral of the tale. And it was such a gentle moral, delivered with such sweetness and grace, that the tears were no longer with laughter.
When I look back on this now, I feel I have been given a moment outside of Kali Yug. Siting there, in the presence of such a great Sage, being entertained, educated and so gently nudged along the path, in the cool golden air was a moment from another age.

Bhagavad Gita 5: 4 - 12

These are the verses I suggest for contemplation for our next Saturday Sadhana (from Mascaro):

5.4 Ignorant men, but not the wise, say that sankhya and yoga are different paths; but he who gives all his soul to one reaches the end of the two.
5.5 Because the victory won by the man of wisdom is also won by the man of good work. That man sees indeed the truth who sees that vision and creation are one.
5.6 But renunciation, Arjuna, is difficult to attain without Yoga of work. When a sage is one in Yoga, he soon is one in God.
5.7 No work stains a man who is pure, who is in harmony; who is master of his life, whose soul is one with the soul of all.
5.8 'I am not doing any work' thinks the ma  who is in
5.9 harmony, who sees the truth. For in seeing or hearing, smelling or touching,  eating or walking or sleeping or breathing, in taling or grasping or relaxing, and even in opening or closing his eyes, remembers: 'It is the servants of my soul that are working'.
5.10  Offer all thy works to God, throw off selfish bonds, and do thy work. No sin can then stain thee, even as waters do not stain the leaf of the lotus.
5.11 The yogi works for the purification of the soul: he throws off selfish attachment, and thus it is only his body, or his senses, or his mind or his reason that works.
5.12 This man of harmony surrenders the reward of his work and thus attains final peace: the man of disharmony, urged by desire, is attached to his reward and remains in bondage.

March/April Meeting

Well, the March/April meeting went ahead last night. There were six of us in all and it was a good session, I think.
I hadn't had much time to give thought to the Gita verses, and there wasn't rally much discussion about them, as I don't think anyone else had either.
The event took place in the evening of a MADYA seminar (Pornamurti and I are on the MADYA committee), and it left us in a bit of a rush to arrange everything.
The events are small but very enjoyable. I'd like to see a few more people ideally...

Vedanta

In another context, someone just asked me the meaning of advaita.

This is what I answered:

As I'm sure you are ware, much of Yoga philosophy is based upon the Upanishads. The Upanishads are a loose collection of writings from the Indian subcontinent. They date from around 1000 years old, to just a couple of hundred years old. There is no official collection, as such, and there are some Upanishads that are not always included in collections.

There are a few 'classics', though, such as Brihadaranyak, Mandukya, Chandogya, and Isa.

Upanishad means 'to sit near', and the implication is that it is the student sitting near to the teacher. Many Upanisads are written as a student asking questions of a teacher, and the teacher answering. The questions are profound, such as: What is the true nature of reality; What is the real significance of OM; etc.

As these books are old, they have been read by many people, and some of those people were remarkably bright. Some of these people commented on the Upanishads, and over time, 'schools of thought' grew up around these commentaries.

There are three main schools of thought:

Dvaita (dualistic): The true nature of reality is that there is a divine spirit which is separate from human consciousness. We can strive to approach the divine spirit, and find its grace and favour, but we can never become one with the divine spirit.

Advaita (non-dualistic): The true nature of reality is non-dual. We and the divine spirit are identical. What you are right now is the divine. What you see right now is the divine. Everything that is, is the divine, right here, right now, in its pure, perfect undiluted form. All we need to do is realise our present true nature, and we are one with the divine.

Vishist-advaita (qualified non-dualism): The true nature of reality is one divine spirit, but presently we are separate from that spirit. We can become one with the divine, but we have to strive to achieve this. It's not just a case of modifying our understanding (as in pure advaita), but of modifying our nature.

It's worth pointing out that, although in the past there have been fierce discussion (I mean, hundreds of years ago), most people now accept that each of these is really just a different way of approaching the same thing. Some people feel more comfortable thinking about things one way or the other. In the end, it matters little, as the Upanishads always say the same, whatever spectacles you look at them through!

Interlude

Everything that comes to me
       that I find to be agreeable
is my Guru's
              sweetest blessin'


Everything that comes to me
       that to accept, I am less able
is my Guru's
              welcome lessin