Skill in Action

Divinity has no identity of its own, yet it enables all identities. When it becomes imbued with individual selfhood, we call that self a jiva. As a creation of its own awareness, the jiva’s nature is summarized by its very existence. Reality remains hidden from the jiva. Perceiving itself as a separate entity, it devotes great effort and attention to its preservation, while being simultaneously haunted by the fear of its destruction. Thus, the individual self abides in a state of fear and desire, of profit and loss. The world is populated by innumerable such beings. Forming a whole, their experiences are limited to their own personal existence. Intoxicated by their self-created worlds, they remain insensitive to the existence of others. They may infer another’s existence through the mechanism of their own being, such as through their senses and thoughts. Yet, they cannot have the experience of being another person. Because they are isolated as individual beings, the rest of the world becomes an abstraction. Therefore, for the jiva, the essential value is itself.

The idea of personal motive lurks behind every act, albeit very subtly at times. Thus, the individual existence is egocentric. This self-preferential tendency is insidious, and ingrained in the very fabric of the jiva. Apart from its ultimate dissolution, the fundamental nature of jiva cannot be changed. However, its tendencies can be curbed through self-settledness, without which, its egocentricity cascades into selfishness.

Throughout our lives, we gradually understand that the spark that gives us life is the same spark that gives life to others and therefore, that each individual existence is of equal reality and value. We realize that we cannot harm one another for the sake of personal benefit. However, tension now arises between this purely abstract understanding and our acute personal experience of individuality. Self-preference pulls us in one direction, while the knowledge of others and of right and wrong drags us the opposite way. As a result, this knowledge is fallible and we remain subject to moral collapse.

Society and religion now assume the responsibility of protecting us from one another. Presuming that the best may only be wrung out of us through force, they use our fears and desires as tools by which to tempt us with rewards and threaten us with punishment. As a result of this conditioning, our fear and desire gets moulded into a fear of punishment and a desire for reward. Thus, our behaviour becomes modified through coercion. Yet, our hearts remain unchanged.

Morality is the regulation of self. If we were all alone in the world, morality would have little relevance. We would suffer no guilt from plucking a mango or papaya from any tree of our liking. Rather, it is out of consideration for others that we restrain ourselves. Without restraint, the self-preferential tendencies flourish and the sphere of self expands to the extent that its dissolution becomes unrealizable. On its own, , self-regulation is unable to effect our negation. However, it can render our inherent individualistic tendency inactive, thereby allowing the possibility of self-negation. As long as the self continues to exist, morality remains necessary. After its dissolution, morality becomes redundant, as there are no more selfish tendencies to check.

Morality has no doctrine. It seeks only to curb all selfishness in any form. We give due consideration to the laws of man and of religion, but controversy soon arises as to which laws are manmade and which are Divine. After all, every religion has its doc-which laws are manmade and which are Divine. After all, every religion has its doctrine, every culture has its traditions, and every nation has its laws. As such, the con-trine, every culture has its traditions, and every nation has its laws. As such, the conscience becomes our most reliable and immediate guide. When it becomes refined, it pricks us at the very hint of error. Conversely, if we ignore its dictates, it becomes silent. When we are sincere about our own betterment and become attentive, it speaks with increasing clarity. Our sense of right and wrong now becomes progressively perfected, as long as the ego can bear the weight of its own imperfection.

The conscience only tells us what we should not do. It does not congratulate us for our meritorious deeds any more than our lungs congratulate us for breathing normally. Neither does the conscience allow for inaction. Its pang is perhaps the most acute when we neglect our noble duty to perform rightful acts. For example, when a doctor passes an injured person on the road, his conscience signals him to stop and lend aid. If he were to ignore its call, his heart could become so laden with guilt as to haunt him all his life.

The conscience awakens as the deepest layers of consciousness become purified, allowing the light of divinity to emanate. Its perfection lies in the purification and poised interrelationship of the subtle bodies, which form the connecting link between soul and the physical body. Subtle bodies are numerous, but the primary ones are consciousness (chitta), mind (manas), intellect (buddhi), and ego ones are consciousness (chitta), mind (manas), intellect (buddhi), and ego (ahankar). At their best, they are as harmonious as the members of a closely united (ahankar). At their best, they are as harmonious as the members of a closely united family.

The loose hierarchical arrangement of the subtle bodies is in constant flux. Their action is far too fine and subtle to allow any definitive classification. They are like an ensemble of actors or musicians, effortlessly passing the lead and supporting roles back and forth, even appearing as a single entity at times. Like the four strings of a violin, they are only capable of harmonious resonance when finely tuned.

When the subtle bodies become fully harmonized and clarified, they become conduits for Divine inspiration. Through this harmonization, a beautiful eclipse is established between heart and mind. Conscience now becomes perfectly reliable and transforms into the voice of our own soul, which we follow with reverence. When our actions are in disharmony with its inspiration, we feel disturbance as a result. Such acts are not worth performing. Performing rightful acts, our inner peace is undisturbed. If our acts are evolutionary in their contribution, a mystical joy begins to vibrate in the heart. This is how we follow the dictums of the heart.

Consciousness is the field of action for the other subtle bodies. It can be compared to a cinema screen upon which the other three enact their dramas. The screen may be vast, covering the entire universe, or it may only be a pinhole. Whatever its degree of expansion, the field of the other subtle bodies also expands proportion-degree of expansion, the field of the other subtle bodies also expands proportionately.

Mind, intellect, and ego have their play within consciousness. They can be so closely interrelated with one another as to appear almost identical. However, each has its unique role. The task of mind is thought, which includes awareness, perception, and the formation of thought objects. When illuminated by its proximity to soul, mind becomes almost entirely passive. No longer having to think, it merely intuits through feeling.

The intellect is the determinative faculty, which reasons, discriminates, and concludes. The intellect is only an instrument. It cannot discriminate between right and wrong. It is like a computer, which arrives at conclusions based only upon the inputs that it receives. If its inputs consist of irrational likes and dislikes caused by impurities in the consciousness, its outcomes are unwise. When the impurities are removed and there are no erroneous inputs, the intellect becomes imbued with the quality of divine wisdom and assumes its real nature.

The ego is pure selfhood, which is defined by its self-awareness, in concert with the mind. It is a limited power that activates the functions of the mind and intellect. At its most refined, the ego constitutes our basic identity, but at its grossest levels, it completely upsets the relationship of the subtle bodies. When it assumes dominance, it becomes rigidly unreceptive to the inspirations received by the mind and to the discriminative intelligence of the intellect. Mind now loses its relevance and the intellect atrophies from disuse. Improvement only comes when we can accept our weaknesses. If we believe ourselves to be perfect, thereby not acknowledging any weakness, we cannot improve. Pride prevents us from such self-introspection.Because we believe that we are perfect and therefore always right, we remain deaf to the voice of conscience.

However, if properly utilized, the ego becomes a key ingredient in our alchemic evolution. After all, it is the ego that entices us to succeed in our work. Measuring our success against that of others, we fall victim to insecurity or arrogance, as the case may be. Competing only with oneself, we avoid these pitfalls and steadily improve. Indeed, it becomes a matter of personal honour to be unable to abide any stain upon our character or imperfection in our work. Although our perfectionism is but a manifestation of ego, it proves to be a motivating force, without which, we would timidly accept our own imperfections and weaknesses. With clarity, we take stock of ourselves, comparing our present state against our highest Ideal.

Often, we receive criticism from others, but rather than reacting with denial or anger, we absorb their rebuke with gratitude, for without it, we might have remained blind to that particular shortcoming. Through sincere introspection and intense self-effort, we gradually rid ourselves of defects and develop goodness. Yet, just as a foul stench overpowers the subtle fragrance of a rose or jasmine flower, the conspicuous presence of even a single flaw in our system invalidates a thousand virtues. However, it is our goodness that reveals our deepest flaw: we may take guilt as punishment for our wrongs, but if we also take virtue as payment for our noble deeds, our virtue is not truly selfless. On the contrary, selflessness is the only virtue.Now we realize that we are our ultimate defect, that self is our only obstacle to perfection. Becoming helpless, we have no resort but to throw ourselves upon His mercy.

Here begins the state of surrender. If our degree of purity allows us to have close proximity to the Divine, our every thought and deed then begins to resonate with its 3influence, which we continually draw and manifest. When our subtle bodies become perfectly receptive to the Divine impulses, our actions become truly His. Performing them automatically, we lack any feeling of being their doer. Originally, we sought only our own fulfillment and we were ignorant. Next, we pursued virtue and were wise. Now, our duty consists only of obedient service to God and we become innocent. Forgetting ourselves in His awareness, we march towards negation.

When deeply concentrated upon any object, we tend to forget ourselves.When we are totally absent, the object of our awareness also loses its identity. Now, we retain no awareness of either self or the object, which represents the collapse of duality. This is a relatively common experience in life. Great athletes and musicians are known for becoming so involved in their activities that they get lost in them, after which they retain little memory of having acted. However, the effect only lasts as long as the duration of their activity. Losing themselves in limited objects, they are bound to emerge again. Getting drowned in life’s activity, we die and are born again. Resting our thought upon the limitless, we gain infinite scope for our negation. Therefore, we practice meditation, taking the Ultimate as our object. 

In Sahaj Marg, we meditate upon the supposition that Divine light is present within the heart. Often, we struggle with this thought, wondering which form it should take.While some people imagine light illuminating the heart, others keep pondering over the words, “Divine light in the heart.” However, when we begin to feel its presence within, thinking becomes unnecessary and all questions are put to rest. This feeling constitutes its true form, as well as its knowledge. Simply closing our eyes, we sink into meditation. Going beyond thought, we become absorbed in Divinity. The distinction of self and object now dissolves and we enter the realm of pure being.

Eventually, our conscious awareness gets revived and we surface out of meditation. However, our true inner state need not change. The meditative state can go on and on, even after the formal conclusion of our meditation. When this state fully ripens, we become as absorbed in the waking condition as we were during meditation. This is the state of turiya, as described by Babuji Maharaj. Remaining absorbed in that sublime state, nothing can disturb our awareness.

The quality of unreality is “being,” but reality has no quality. In negation, we not only lack “being,” but we lack “non-being” as well, because “non-being” implies that something is in the state of non-being. Thus, no words can be adequate in expressing the final condition and so we must now content ourselves with half-truths for the sake of expression.

Sahaj Marg prepares us to renounce our role as the initiator and performer of our actions, allowing us to divest ourselves of our burden of ego. As a result, our actions become natural, skillful, effortless, and free from deliberation. Deriving the best possible results, we achieve excellence.

The dissolution of self is the dawn of selflessness – the very state of love. Under no circumstances can love and selfishness ever co-exist. As the original virtue from which all goodness flows, love is the root and perfect summation of all dharma. Having negated individual existence, we are unable to consciously love or not love.Instead, reaching the pinnacle of a stage known as being love, the alchemist’s Instead, reaching the pinnacle of a stage known as being love, the alchemist’s dream is finally realized.