Not a New Year Resolution

I don't believe in them.

However, something pretty groovy happened last year.

I'd gone back into the office after the Christmas/New Year break, and was standing in the queue for Starbucks (Starbucks was in my office building, and 30 yards from my desk), and I suddenly decided I needed to give up chocolate bars.

Some background will assist at this point.

Chocolate is my main vice and dietary weakness. Most people who meet me and don't know me assume I drink, and that my belly is the result of beer. But no, I don't take alcohol at all. It's entirely down to chocolate and sweets. And I'm diabetic, so that's not great. Especially as I would often visit the chocolate vending machines at work several times a day.

So, I needed to give up chocolate bars. I had the bars in mind specifically, as there are other chocolate products I was not yet ready to give up, such as brownies and pain au chocolat. Bars would be a good start, though.

But, the problem is, New Years resolutions are rubbish. The problem with them is that you are just making a promise to yourself, so, if you break the promise, all you have to do is forgive yourself, and no harm done. You don't even have to feel guilty, because you are utterly forgiven.

So I hatched a plan. At first, I thought of making a promise to Someone significant, but then I thought, if I failed, I would be letting them down, and I would have the guilt trip, because I wouldn't be able to ask for forgiveness. Not because it wouldn't be given, but because I would be too ashamed to ask. So that road could only lead to failure, guilt and shame. Not a good option.

Realising that the problem was that I am weak-willed ("Will power of a moth", as my brother-in-law says), what I needed was not the rod of promise and commitment, but the gentle caress of helpful assistance.

So, what I did was this: I asked my Guru that every time I saw a chocolate bar, I would be immediately reminded of Him.

This has meant that since that moment of asking, I have not bought (or otherwise procured and consumed) a single chocolate bar. How could I? Every time I see a chocolate bar, my Guru is there, and I can't eat chocolate in front of my Guru!

The strength and success of this is a little scary.

The reason it is strong is that it depends not on me and my will-power in the slightest. I have done nothing. I don't have to remember my Guru whenever I see chocolate. This is the amazing thing about having such a beautiful Guru: I genuinely asked for his assistance in an important matter, and by His Grace, he has helped me at every moment of my need. I don't need to remember my Guru: the memory of Him just comes to me whenever I see chocolate. And then I don't have to struggle to avoid the chocolate, because it would make me feel so small, ungrateful and plain stupid to eat it despite Him. With His face in my mind, I cannot even think about buying or eating the chocolate.

The reason it is scary is that I feel like I have been handed a useful but dangerous power tool. That doesn't express it properly, but it's the closest I can get: If this way of doing things can cut off chocolate bars so easily and so utterly, then what else might be achieved? What other parts of me might be easily and painlessly removed? What if I am not ready to lose those things?

I'm not doing, but suppose I asked my Guru to help me eat a completely yogic diet?

I have no doubt it would happen.

But I'm not sure I'm ready for that. In fact, I'm quite ure I'm not ready for it! I like bacon sandwiches, and a I like beef curry. I eat meat several times a week. I eat other chocolate products, and other sweets and biscuits. I visit restaurants - good restaurants with Michelin stars, and I enjoy it all.

So, having gone a full year with this support from my Guru, I feel that it is time to extend the parameters a little, and although this happens to fall around New Year, it is not a New Years resolution.

But what to do, and how far to go?

I'm getting close to a decision. It's not about what I think I can manage, it's about what I think I'm ready to do without. When I manage to articulate what I feel the next step is, I will ask my Guru for His further assistance. And then I'll let you know how it goes this time next year.

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.

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

Bhagavad Gita 3.29 - 31

Continuing my look at the verses selected for the next Mrityunjaya meeting, lets move on to verse 29:

29. Those who are deluded by the qualities of material nature become attached to material activities.

The cause of attachment to material activities is delusion brought on by misunderstanding of the qualities of material nature.

The nature of the misunderstanding was mentioned previously: the idea that we carry out actions, and that we have a a conscious free-will.

It is this delusion of our activity in the world that gives rise to us believing we have some kind of investment in what goes on. We believe, mistakenly, that we are making decisions, and we are carrying out actions, and therefore we feel a sense of responsibility and ownership for the results of those actions. We also believe that just as we make our decisions and our own choices, so do other people. So when someone else does something that contradicts our expectations and desires, we get all hot under the collar about that, too.

It is our delusional belief that we are acting and being acted up by others that leads us to this feeling of interacting with the world, when in fact our true nature is as observer of the world.

30. Dedicating all actions to Me, meditating on the Supreme Spirit, becoming free from the wising and selfishness fever, you must fight!

We all know that 'fight' is figurative, and part of the story structure of the Gita, and that what it really means that we must do our duty. We must carry out our lives by following our Dharma and our samskaras.

And we can best achieve this by dedicating al actions to Krishna (or however you choose to name your conception of the Devine). So we perform our actions, to the best of our abilities, but we do them not for ourselves, but for God. Keeping God in mind at all times, we perform our duties with no selfishness, and no formulation of wishes for the results or outcome of our actions, as our actions are not ours, they belong entirely to God.

31. Whoever constantly practices tis teaching of Mine, with pure faith and without complaint, is released from karma.

Released from karma.

I can think of two ways of interpreting this: The way for mere mortals, and the real deeper meaning that applies only to those really elevated beings we hear about on occasion.

The interpretation for mere mortals, such as myself:

Released from Karma does not really mean 'released from karma'. Karma is a natural law and applies to everyone and everything. What this means is, because you are no longer attached, you are no longer impacted emotionally, intellectually or otherwise by the events that occur to you. Stuff still happens, but you understand that it's not really you it is happening to. Stuff is happening, and it's just forces of nature acting on other forces of nature. You are not involved in it anywhere. You just observe, perform your duty with dedication to God.

But what it really mean is:
Karma is a natural law. That's like saying 'released from the laws of physics'. Hmmm.

Well, some people are that released. Some people so seriously 'grok' that they are not in this world, that they are just the observer, that they are genuinely no longer bound by it's laws.

Maharaji swallowed enough LSD give an elephant the trip of it's lifetime, but it had no effect on him at all. Because, tripping is the consequence that follows if one is subject to the laws of nature, and Maharaji was not so subjected. Te laws of physics state that you can only be in one place at one time. Maharaji was frequently seen in multiple places at the same time. He would be at a festival in Brindavan, with hundreds of devotees, and on the same day he would be in his Kainchi ashram with hundreds of others. The laws of physics say this is impossible. But Maharaji was not subject o the laws of physics.

Karma is just another such law, and in the final stage, freedom from karma ia accompanied by freedom from all limits.

This type of miracle is very rarely mentioned in the Satyananda tradition. It's not a tradition with a big focus on the sensational, but when we were in Rikhia in October, I was taling to one of the Swamis, and they mentioned something. They mentioned that at one of the big events where many people are fed at the ashram, the feast was underway, and the person managing the kitchen came to realise that people were taking much more of the sweets than had been anticipated, and there would be a considerable shortage, and not everyone would be served.

So the kitchen wallah ran to Paramahamsa-ji and said 'Paramahamsa-ji, we are running out of sweets, and there will not be enough for everyone!'

Before Paramahamsa-ji could answer, another swami ran in and said 'Paramahamsa-ji, the sweet seller from Deoghar has just arrived with two carloads of sweets. He decided to close shop today, and give them all to you!'

Paramahamsa-ji turned to the first fellow and said, 'Why are you bothering me about having too few sweets! You can see we have plenty!'

Guru and Disciple

Some Western people are suspicious of Gurus. Some gurus are suspect.
We'll gloss over that for now, and address it another time.

...

We're all in a room. It's a very big room, and very high. We spend our lives wandering around, and most of us never even realise we are in a room. It's so vast, we think everything is ok, be cause we never meet the limits imposed on us by the walls. Most people simply don't see the walls.

Some of us do.

Some of us encounter a part of the wall that contains us. Some of those bump off the wall, and choose to pretend to not notice. They wander back into the room, and maybe don't encounter the wall again for a long time.

Some others spend some time frowning at the wall, scratching their heads, then kind of carry on wandering, but keep the wall in view, off in the distance. They get the feeling it's important, but just not right now.

Some others meet the wall and wonder what lies beyond.

These people often spend more and more of their time approaching the wall, probing, examining. Sometimes they may find a small, dirty window, and through the window, they may see tantalising glimpses of a bright beyond. Some become intrigued by the wall. The wall becomes a big part of their lives, and examining and exploring the wall becomes a regular occurrence. For some it becomes their primary purpose.

Sometimes, someone finds steps.

The steps are treated the same as the wall. Some ignore them, some start to climb. But climbing is hard, and many give up.

Some though, are driven, and think this must be the way over the wall!

So they climb. And the climbing becomes harder. The stairs steepen, the steps narrow, and eventually, its almost like trying to climb the wall itself. It's slippery, and difficult. But to some it's also rewarding, and these press on.

Sometimes, on very, very rare occasions, someone on these steps encounters a fine golden thread, hanging down the inside of the wall. Many people ignore the thread, thinking it is just another vine, another creeper growing on the wall.

But some people look up. And those that choose to look up see that the wall is terribly high. The sides are smooth, like glass. It's virtually mpossible to climb. But there, in the farthest distance, there is a light. A beautiful, glowing light at the end of the fine thread hanging down the wall.

And as the eyes become clear and accustomed to the glare, what we see is our Guru waiting patiently, holding out the thread of gold, simply waiting for us to take hold.


You can read a greaqt deal of wisdom concerning the Guru in Satsangi's wonder full book Light on the Guru and Disciple Relationship

Karma Sannyass Diksha

After I received my karma sannyasa initiation from Sri Paramahamsa Niranjanananda Saraswati, maybe ten minutes after the ceremony, Sri Swamiji was 'hanging out' in the hall with his new disciples. As we (Poornamurti and I) were milling about, we came close by him, and he addressed us:

"Have I made you happy?"
"Oh yes Swamiji, you have made us very happy, we will try very hard to live up to this honour."
"I Know you will. You must come and see me in India some time."
"We'd love to Swamiji, thank you."
"Anytime, just come."

As we are having this conversation, I am looking up into his face, and the sun is shining behind him through the window, and my eyes are dazzled. I can't focus on his face, because the light is shining so brightly, I have to squint and raise my hand to shade my eyes.

The conversation ends and we wander away. I glance back over my shoulder and realise that there is no window.