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Invoke the Highest

Dear friends,

Basant Panchami brings with it the freshness of spring and every possibility of change. Although we approach change with optimism and hard work, we still often find our efforts falling short.

Perhaps you made a New Year’s resolution to rise before dawn and complete your prayer and meditation before sunrise, but you find that now, some weeks later, the habit has not yet been established. Or, perhaps you resolved to stop wasting time and attention on useless online browsing, but the unwanted habit remains. You may sometimes find yourself dumbfounded: “Why did I fail? What was lacking in me? What is preventing me from achieving my goals? Why can’t I avoid negative traits and tendencies, despite my interest to remove them permanently?”

Over the course of a lifetime, we sometimes remain beset by the very same tendencies and limitations that have always troubled us. This situation is epitomized in the statement attributed to Duryodhana in the great epic story of the Mahabharatha: “I know what dharma is but I cannot abide in it. I know what adharma is but I cannot avoid it.” This cry highlights a familiar pain – the pain of being entrapped in flaws and tendencies, despite our longing to overcome them and our efforts to transcend them. Let us reflect on this Duryodhana syndrome, which is so prevalent.

As we progress, we expand the spectrum of possibilities until it touches the Divine. Nevertheless, in a moment of action, when our inner nature is measured through outer expression, our indefinite nature collapses and only the action remains – an action revealing a predominant level of consciousness. It is this which defines our nature.

And then there is the spiritual importance of overcoming imperfections of character. The shastras speak of the Divinity that resides in the hearts of all beings, but to what extent does that Divinity manifest and to what extent does it remain hidden? When it is hidden, the statement, “Our nature is Divine,” is mere philosophy. In fact, our Adi Guru, Lalaji Maharaj, writes, “If a person has established his approach to Dhruva Pad but still has weakness of character, then I consider that he has not yet attained the real gem.” A person may be a saint, but the moment they behave poorly they are simply a person behaving poorly and nothing more. On an inner level, their nature may be highly elevated; they may have progressed well as far as the yatra is concerned, yet that spiritual elevation is meaningless in that moment, due to a single act which is contrary to their spiritual status. It is like adding a single drop of poison to a glass of pure water – it becomes deadly. In other words, it is the character we express through various levels of action that truly defines us.

This is reminiscent of the “Copenhagen interpretation,” a way of understanding quantum behaviour proposed by physicists Niels Bohr and Werner Heisenberg. The Copenhagen interpretation posits that a system does not have any definite properties prior to being measured, when there are only probable outcomes. In the moment of measurement, however, all those probable outcomes collapse into one single reality.

This highlights the immense significance of character in a person’s spiritual life. In certain critical moments, our indefinite nature crystallizes into a character. If it were otherwise, the tests given to us by the Elders (whether we are aware of them or not) would have no purpose. Therefore, our spiritual destiny relies upon our ability to overcome our deeply entrenched tendencies. In a way, the yardstick of measuring our ever-evolving consciousness is the direct measure of our natural ability to master the tendencies.

Our spiritual destiny relies upon our ability to overcome our deeply entrenched tendencies. In a way, the yardstick of measuring our ever-evolving consciousness is the direct measure of our natural ability to master the tendencies.

Oftentimes, our efforts at self-change only tighten the strands of the net of complexity in which we are caught. While trying to free ourselves from tendencies, we end up becoming more involved with them, and this makes them stronger. It is as if our very efforts to free ourselves have become a part and parcel of the tendency itself. Just as Albert Einstein was supposed to have said, “We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used to create them,” when we try to remove insidious tendencies, our efforts are often insufficient and also counterproductive. Higher help is required.

The Cleaning technique offered by our Masters is unprecedented in its efficacy for removing the root cause of our tendencies, the samskaras that accumulate in our subtle body. But it is not so effective in removing the habitual thought patterns and behavioural tendencies that have arisen from those samskaras. Samskaras are like the strong currents of a river, in which even the strongest swimmer can be swept away. Their currents, filled with pushes and pulls, can divert almost any seeker from the path. Their removal is vital, and we accomplish this with our own daily practice of Cleaning, as well as through meditation sessions with a certified trainer or with the Master. Yet, even when we remove the flow of samskaras from this river, the riverbed still remains. If the flowing water represents the samskaras, the riverbed symbolizes the habits and tendencies.

A dry riverbed seems harmless. It cannot sweep us away. It cannot push or pull us in any direction. It is simply an empty channel. That is why, after practising Cleaning, the tendencies seem to be inactive. And yet, that riverbed still exists within us. In other words, the tendencies can remain despite all our Cleaning. Then, what will happen when it rains? The water will once more follow the same riverbed, and the samskaras will then start troubling us again.

What is this “rain” that rekindles a samskara back into existence? The “rain” represents our environment and external circumstances. When we are exposed to certain influences, similar in nature to the ones which created the samskara in the first place, the dormant tendency pushes us to react in a way that recreates the old samskara all over again, even if it was earlier removed. So, the effect of Cleaning is impermanent, as the tendencies and habits are not destroyed. That is why tendencies keep showing their faces throughout our lives, shocking us at times when we thought they were already transcended. This is the persistent nature of tendencies, and it is why Babuji said that we must “bulldoze the riverbed.”

As seekers, our objective is to remain connected to the Centre. Those who are oriented toward the periphery are generally not disturbed by their flaws, and they do not feel the need for change. Even if they make resolutions, they are made in name only, without any real intention to change. These are not true resolutions. They are more like passing thoughts, formed without reflection, and they are easily forgotten: “I’ll do my evening Cleaning from now on,” but then the thought is gone.

Resolutions made from such a surface level will not even stir up the resistances we tend to feel in the implementation phase. This is the most common reason that resolutions are not successful. Can a boulder be moved using a blade of grass? Until we try pushing that boulder with all our might, we won’t even feel its resistance to being moved. One who remains unattached to the Centre, who identifies with the periphery, does not take up the inner fight; they never try to push the boulders of samskaras and tendencies from their path. With this lack of trying, they have not even realized the difficulty of change.

As seekers, our objective is to remain connected to the Centre.

The committed spiritual warrior, battling their own imperfections, soon realizes the futility of such a forceful approach. The individual will-force is a limited power, as it is derived from manas (mind) and the constricting factor of ahankar (ego). Under most circumstances, will is applied from this mental dimension, and thus its action remains there, never reaching beyond to the emotional dimension – the field of the heart, where our tendencies thrive.

Exercising will-force represents an insistent approach. Insistence means enforcing and imposing. Imposing the will to enforce change is a kind of violence. For example, what happens when you rely on force to produce change in another person? You only create resistance. Even if the person complies with your wishes, it is only at the surface level. Your efforts have not produced true change.

A far better approach is to elicit willing cooperation. You can politely request, “Please do this.” Or, like Pujya Babuji, you can be quite indirect about it, and say, “It would be wonderful if this thing were to be done.” Such an approach creates even fewer ripples. The subtlest approach, however is not to say a word, instead, prayerfully and silently submitting, “May it happen like this.” Forming such a subtle will, and then prayerfully submitting that subtle will to the Lord, devoid of all attachment and insistence, is by far the most potent type of suggestion. The result may appear after a very long time, but when it finally arrives the change will be real and permanent. It is like planting a Holland bulb in the soil: it sprouts only after six months, but when it blooms it is so beautiful! The secret lies in being oriented to the Centre, forsaking the periphery, and invoking the Highest.

The seed of constant remembrance is meditation well performed. As meditation takes us from thinking to feeling, we feel, appreciate, and enjoy the nuances of each condition we receive. When this appreciation transforms and swells into gratitude, it creates bonding and resonance with the Giver. The position of devotee is thus established in a seeker, marking the true beginning of remembrance.

Constant remembrance is the foundation. It is no mere mental exercise, as many misunderstand it to be. People often read the “Constant Remembrance” chapter of Reality at Dawn and take it to mean that they should start mentally remembering the Master. They think of him again and again, aiming for this thought to become permanent. In reality, however, Babuji’s prescription is to move from this initial act of remembering the Master off-and-on to a much deeper state of feeling his presence all the time. In fact, when you remember him in the true sense, he is already next to you. Nay! He is already within you!

To think constantly about anything is a burden – a weight is always a weight, whether it is iron or gold. Should constant remembrance ever become a burden? In that case it becomes a penance, a self-punishment, a joyless affair; and if it is joyless it is also lifeless and loveless. If remembrance does not create love, it is useless.

Babuji has written that a devotee “is at liberty to put up humbly before the Master anything he likes,” and this implies a partnership between the Master and the devotee. Simply having a Master is not enough to rid ourselves of our tendencies; we also have a part to play in this process. The first step is to become aware of the inner tendencies we carry. Can you put them up before the Master while remaining unaware of them? It cannot happen. This knowledge of our tendencies arises due to our interest in purifying ourselves, and after sufficient practice of Cleaning. It is the cleaning of the samskaras that reveals the tendencies, just as removing the water reveals the riverbed.

Over the years, I have observed that the seekers who progress fastest are the ones who are highly aware of their faults. When you diagnose a problem in yourself, the solution is never far off, but your attitude must also be right. A reactive mind can certainly see the problem, but remains entangled in it, whereas a mind residing in the state of saranagati simply submits the tendency to the Lord, in utter humility and without demand or despair. There is only a feeling of, “Please, let Thy will be done!” It is only in such moments of total submission that the divine power can flow into us and negate our deepest tendencies. This attitude is called “living dead.”

Babuji said, “Travel light,” like the pilgrim who checks in their heavy luggage, entrusting it to the care of the train guard. To continue on our journey with a heavy load is impossible, and it is also not within our capacity to remove it. The only solution, therefore, is to entrust our load to the Master and enjoy the journey unencumbered.

With love and respect,