SRI KRISHNA: 1. Not those who lack energy or refrain from action, but those who work without expectation of reward have attained the goal of meditation and made true renunciation.

The Gita gives us three paths to illumination: karma yoga, the path of selfless action, jnana yoga, the path of spiritual wisdom, and bhakti yoga, the path of love and devotion. All three are based upon the practice of meditation.

Karma yoga appeals easily to people who are energetic and enterprising, but energy and effort are not enough. There must be no thought of feathering our own nest or of earning profit and prestige, for the moment these thoughts come in, our action is no longer karma yoga. This is what makes karma yoga so difficult, why it takes a giant like Mahatma Gandhi to practice it to perfection. But even though we do not have the stature of Gandhi, we cannot afford to wait until we are completely selfless to act, because that day is a long way off. We can begin karma yoga now, and through the practice of meditation, over a long period of time, we can gradually eliminate all our selfish motives. So for the vast majority of us, the practice of karma yoga has to be based on meditation.

Jnana yoga is even more difficult; it is like climbing a ninety-­degree precipice. Without meditation no jnana, or spiritual wisdom, will come to any of us. Jnana does not refer to intellectual effort but to leaping beyond the duality of subject and object, going beyond the finite intellect into the intuitive mode of knowing – a capacity which is characteristic of a great spiritual genius like Meister Eckhart, and present to some degree even in a great scientific genius like Albert Einstein. For most of us, however, the path of love or bhakti is the safest, the swiftest, and the sweetest.

This word “love” is easy to read and write, but very difficult to put into practice. The basis of all loving relationships is the capacity to put each other’s happiness first. Sometimes it is distressing to try to make another’s happiness more important than our own; yet when we keep at it, there comes a fierce exhilaration. We can go to bed knowing that we have grown a tenth of an inch that day; and one tenth of an inch every day will make us tall by the time the year is out. Spiritual awareness grows little by little; it is sometimes easy to make a spectacular, dramatic gesture, but it is very difficult to bear incessant pinpricks patiently. Life is a permanent state of pinpricks that come in the form of likes and dislikes. Through constant patience and the practice of meditation, we learn to bear these pinpricks until finally we can overcome them joyfully, without effort.

We call our age materialistic, but I notice there is a refreshing change in the younger generation, which has a good deal of detachment from material goods and money. But if detachment is going to be complete, we also have to become detached from our self-will, which often expresses itself in our opinions. People will give away their money, clothes, and gifts, but the one thing they do not know how to give away is their opinions. If we were to stand on a busy street corner tomorrow and distribute our opinions free to anybody who would come and take them, everyone would just ignore us. Nobody wants our opinions because everyone wants to keep his own. One of our strongest drives is to impose our will on others, yet we can never understand why others should want to impose their self-will on us. In personal relationships, love expresses itself in accepting the other person’s ways, particularly if they are better than our own.

To have harmonious personal relationships, the practice of meditation is necessary to keep the mind from getting agitated when someone goes against our grain. When we live together in intimate personal relationships, we have to expect a little bruising, a little spraining, and a little bumping, which are all part of life. Those who do not live together, who have not learned to accept the give-and-take of life, are forfeiting one of its fundamental joys: that of being a large family, in which we recognize the unity of life that is divine. In any home, whether with our family or with our friends, living together can multiply the joy of all, for the source of joy is in putting more and more people’s welfare before our own. When we follow the path of integrated yoga, there is a place for selfless action, a place for knowledge, and a special place for love. But all these are governed by meditation, which we should practice every morning and every evening.

SRI KRISHNA: 2. Therefore, Arjuna, understand that renunciation and the performance of selfless service are the same. Those who cannot renounce attachment to the results of their work are far from the path.

The expectation of getting money, prizes, prestige, or power, the idle imagination of rewards or results, is called sankalpa in Sanskrit. My grandmother, who was as good as Aesop, used to tell a story which conveyed to me the idea of sankalpa better than great scholars have been able to do. In her simple manner, she would describe a village girl of about ten, walking home gracefully with a pot full of milk on her head. Under the spell of sankalpa, the little girl begins to daydream: “I am going to sell all my milk for five rupees, and with the money I’ll get a dancing dress and real anklets with bells.” Then she dreams of how she will be able to dance; and carried away, she starts dancing. The pot falls and the milk spills. This is what we do every day, only we say, “When my novel has gone into its sixth edition, and the movie rights have been bought, I am going to buy a yacht and a villa on the Mediterranean.” People are given to this kind of imagining in all kinds of terms: money, pleasure, fame, and worst of all, power.

As long as we are subject to sankalpa, we are imprisoned in our selfish ways of thinking, and have no access to the deeper capacities in our consciousness that clamor to be used. There is no more effective way to rid the mind of sankalpa than the practice of meditation. Every time we meditate we free the mind a little more by not allowing it to wander off on a trail of fancy or vague associations. I am the first to admit that bringing the mind back over and over again to the words of the Prayer of St. Francis is dull, dreary work, but over a period of time this effort will free us from the oppressive memories of past events and the expectations of future actions. One of the signs that we are coming closer to this freedom is an increase in our vitality, energy, and capacity for selfless work. The more we work for others, stretching out our arms to embrace all those around us, the stronger our arms will grow.

SRI KRISHNA: 3. For aspirants who wish to climb the mountain of spiritual awareness, the path is selfless work. For those who have attained the summit of union with the Lord, the path is stillness and peace.

Now Sri Krishna uses an image from mountain climbing, a sport that requires great endurance and skill. He compares two types: one is arurukshu, someone who wants to climb the mountain of spiritual awareness; the other is yogarudha, the adept who has already made it to the top. In order to climb the Himalayas within us, we have to train ourselves, little by little, every day. Sir Edmund Hillary, who climbed Mount Everest for the first time, did not just stand at the bottom, take one leap, and land on top of the Himalayas. He practiced climbing mountains for a long time to learn all the required skills; and for you and me to climb the ­spiritual mountain, we too have to strengthen our muscles over a long, long period of time.

When those of you who lead the householder’s life are asked what you are doing, you can say, “Learning to climb a mountain.” You are getting your training experience in the heart of your family. In mountain climbing, you tie yourself to others with ropes so that if somebody slips you do not say, “Have you hit the ground?” or “Good riddance”; you try to prevent that person from falling by hauling him up and saving him. Similarly in living with family or friends, if somebody slips you do not say, “Aha! Serves you right,” or “You’ve been asking for that for a long time.” Instead you pull them up. Even if they have offended you, do not tell them, “Remember what you did last week? You’d better just stay there on the floor.” If you do not like someone, it is good for both of you if you can pull the person up and offer support. People whom others have abandoned, who are looking at you through their own selfishness, expect you to walk away and wash your hands of them. At first they do not believe you are coming to help them, but when you support them, help them walk, and then give them something to get home with, they begin to think about what you have done; and on the way home they begin to like and finally love you.

There is no other way to deal with people who are difficult, who make mistakes. Demonstrating violently against them only makes the situation worse by making everyone blind with fury. This is where the practice of meditation is invaluable: when we are surrounded by people who cause us harm, we can help them by being patient and loving and returning good for their evil. To work like this for those whom we do not like, especially when we are involved in a tense emotional situation, is hard work. But when we work wholeheartedly in the service of others without thought of profit or prestige, we are using karma yoga every day as a mighty ladder to climb safely and steadily on the spiritual path. For a long, long time we will be aware only of the distress and the difficulty of always trying to turn our back upon ourselves; but after a period of years, when we think we have been stagnating all the time, we turn the corner and suddenly the goal is in view. We are no longer in the foothills; we are near Lhasa, the capital of Tibet, high among the clouds. We can see the Ganges flowing down, we can see views of some of the peaks, and we cannot help but thrill with exultation.

After we have reached the top of the spiritual Mount Everest, shama, perfect peace, becomes our ladder. This stillness of the ego means that we have become infinite love: that all our agitation has died down, all our anger, fear, greed, malice, and envy have died down, and there is a vast ocean of love flowing in our consciousness. This is what we discover after many years of assiduous effort. When our ego is completely eliminated and we have become all love, we no longer work; the Lord works through us. Our work then is to be the still center in the eye of the storm of the world which rages all about us.

SRI KRISHNA: 4. When a man has freed himself from attachment to the results of work, and from desires for the enjoyment of sense objects, he ascends to the unitive state.

Here we have a perfect picture of the person who has climbed to the summit of human consciousness, who sees the complete unity of all life and has the wisdom, the will, and the energy to live in harmony with it. The Buddha calls such a person one who has attained nirvana – that is, one who has broken out of the prison of selfishness, self-will, and separateness in which most of us spend our whole life.

The person who has become established in the Lord within cannot be pushed about by selfish cravings, which can overwhelm even the most cultured and humanitarian among us if we let ourselves be drawn by prestige, fame, and power. Entirely independent of the external world for support, the person who has attained the unitive state lives in abiding joy and security. As long as we lean on anything outside ourselves for support, we are going to be insecure. Most of us try to find support by leaning on all sorts of things – gold, books, learning, sensory stimulation – and if these things are taken away, we fall over. To the extent that we are dependent on these external supports, we grow weaker and more liable to upsets and misfortune.

Our sole support is really the Lord within. In a magnificent verse at the end of the Gita (18:66) Sri Krishna tells us not to cling to anything outside ourselves, but to cast aside all other supports and embrace only the Lord of Love who is within us all. Then we shall be free. It is a strange paradox that when we surrender everything to the Lord, we receive everything: when we depend entirely on the Lord, we become independent. In meditation we slowly learn to depend more and more on the Lord by increasing our concentration on the words of the inspirational piece. When the mind tries to slip out to the movie theater or the ice cream parlor and we bring it back to the words of St. Francis or the Gita, we are gently dislodging external supports and turning our eyes to the Lord.

SRI KRISHNA: 5. A man should reshape himself through the power of the will. He should never let himself be degraded by self-will. The will is the only friend of the Self, and the will is the only enemy of the Self.

No one can help us grow up, no one can help us become beautiful, except ourselves. We cannot expect anyone on the face of the earth to do the work necessary for our own enlightenment. Great teachers only show the way; we have to travel it, and the first step we can take is to accept responsibility for the position in which we find ourselves today and not try to leave it at the door of our parents, our partner, our children, or our society. By accepting this responsibility we immediately gain the certainty that if we brought ourselves into this morass, then we have the power to pull ourselves out completely, reshape ourselves, and become perfect.

The seed of perfection is within all of us. Meister Eckhart, in his inimitable way, tells us that as apple seeds grow into apple trees and pear seeds into pear trees, so the God-seed within us will grow into a mighty God-tree if it is watered, weeded, and protected. In India, the price of seeds goes up during the rainy season because that is the right time for planting. Because the seeds are expensive, the foolish farmer says, “I think I’ll wait until there is a fifty-percent reduction in the price of seeds. During the summer months you can pick up two packets of seed for the price of one.” But at that time, when there is not a drop of water in the ground, nothing is likely to grow. Similarly, the right time for leading the spiritual life is now. When my grandmother used to ask me when I was going to do a certain good deed, I would say, “One of these days, Granny.” She would immediately retort in my mother tongue, “One of these days is none of these days.” Most of us have a tendency to put things off until the right moment, the auspicious day, when everything is right. There are people who throw away jobs or move to a new home just because what they have now doesn’t feel right. I would suggest a little less concern with feeling right and more with doing things now. If you want to lead the spiritual life, the time to start is immediately, and not one minute later. We have a venerable Hindu friend who says, in frightening language, “Don’t postpone the spiritual life until tomorrow. How do you know you will be here tomorrow?”

Whatever mistakes we have committed, whatever difficulties we have, all that we have to do is leave aside all supports and trust the Lord completely, because he is right within us. In trusting the Lord, we are trusting our real Self; in putting our life under his guidance, we are letting our life be governed by the wisest part of our consciousness. Ultimately we have only one friend in the world: the Atman, the Lord within, who is our real Self. He is telling us all the time, “I will forgive you whatever you have done, provided you now try to remove all selfishness from your heart and your life. I’ll support you despite all the mistakes of the past, if you will now start to live for your family and your community. And I will bring you into your full beauty and wisdom if you will meditate on me and remember that I am present in every creature that lives on the face of the earth.”

SRI KRISHNA: 6. To those who have conquered themselves, the will is a friend. But it is the enemy of those who have not found the Self within them.

We all have within us that curious pair, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. That is, we all have a pure, perfect, divine Self, side by side with a hobgoblin with cloven feet and wagging tail who tries to make us believe that he is our real Self. This hobgoblin is called by many names. When Jalalu’l-Din Rumi, the great medieval Sufi saint, would talk to his disciples about the devil, they used to retort in their sophistication: “Devil? Devil? Never heard of him! We don’t believe in him.” And Jalalu’l-Din Rumi replied, “You never heard of him? Just turn your ear inward and listen to some of your thoughts. ‘I hate him. Drop dead.’ That’s the voice of the devil.” We don’t have to go outside ourselves if we want to meet Mr. Mephistopheles. We have only to ask for an appointment, and he will tell us to come any time – to walk right in, sit down, and make ourselves at home. This is the selfish part of us, the monstrously ugly part of us. When we hate, when we carry resentments, when we refuse to forgive or become violent in our home, on the street, or on the campus, we are telling Mephistopheles that we look upon him as our leader and will do whatever he wants.

Side by side with this hobgoblin is our pure, divine Self. One of the beautiful names for this Self in Arabic is al-Rahim, ‘the Merciful.’ The beauty of forgiveness, compassion, and love is that they heal all the wounds within us, leaving not even a scar. Where there is no forgiveness, not only are there scars; there are festering wounds which sap our vitality. Remember the words of the Buddha in the Dhammapada: “Hatred does not cease by hatred at any time; hatred ceases by love. This is an unalterable law.” He did not say it is advisable to love, or it is recommended; he said it is an unalterable law: breaking it, we break ourselves; obeying it, we fulfill ourselves.

To learn to return love for hatred, all of us have to struggle for a long, long time. Learning any skill takes considerable effort, and we should not be surprised that learning to be selfless is the result of many, many years of difficult, exhilarating labor. Our niece Geetha has taken about a year to graduate from reading in that odd alphabet called ITA to the kind of books you and I read. When she came to us a year ago, she knew only a few words of English. Then she started going to school and saying b-u-k spells book, which really puzzled me. I would look this word up in the dictionary and say, “I don’t think buk is English.” She would say, “Uncle, it’s that thing you’re looking at – buk.” “Oh,” I said, “that’s b-o-o-k.” Now she too is beginning to read book, and there is such joy in the achievement. This morning, while Christine and I were meditating, a little slip of paper was passed underneath the door with a message written by Geetha, consisting of five words, every one of them lovingly misspelled: Anti, ples pik ar dreses; “Aunty, please pick our dresses.” We were so overjoyed that we didn’t see spelling peculiarities; we said, “How beautiful – she is able to communicate,” which we often forget is the purpose of language.

In communicating with the Lord, for a long time we are going to say “ples Lord,” and he is not going to consult the great mystics in heaven and say, “Poor English!” Instead he will say, “This person has turned to me and wants my help.” In other words, we are not going to be perfect for a long, long time. We are going to have lapses, outbursts of temper, and difficulties, but as long as we keep trying our very best, the Lord is more than happy to receive our offering.

SRI KRISHNA: 7. The supreme Reality stands revealed in the consciousness of those who have conquered themselves. They live in peace, alike in cold and heat, pleasure and pain, praise and blame.

To grow up we all need to learn to maintain an even mind in pain and pleasure, joy and sorrow, and we will find that keeping our balance, no matter how difficult the challenges we face, leads to security, cheerfulness, and the permanent happiness that is Rama. In our world we are slowly forgetting that, as Meher Baba puts it, “Cheerfulness is a divine virtue.” We go on a bus and see eyes that are glazed and faces that have no expression at all. It is as if some kind of arctic weather is blowing inside us all: our emotions are beginning to freeze; glaciers are forming, and icebergs are looming up everywhere. We are feeling less and less for others and less for ourselves as well. The impersonality of our modern urban society has become so frightening that people are trying to form smaller groups, smaller societies, where they can know and serve one another. It is a source of unending delight to all of us at Ramagiri to live as members of a large family, loving one another, working hard, and always being cheerful.

There are times when it is difficult to smile, but that is the perfect time to learn. When you are already happy, there is no effort in trying to smile. But when things are slowly beginning to look a little blue, when morale is sagging at the edges and people around you are beginning to irritate you, that is the time to start smiling. In the very act of smiling there seems to be some secret switch that is turned on, and somewhere inside a little fountain of joy begins to play.

Yogananda Paramahamsa has a beautiful suggestion for thawing the arctic state of our feelings; it is for all of us to become smile millionaires. This is the kind of millionaire that everyone can be, because everywhere we go we can always smile. Wherever you find someone seated alone, not knowing what to do, feeling utterly desolate, just smile. Almost everyone will thaw immediately and smile back. When you have been smiling at people in the park, at meter-maids passing by, at the mailman, and at schoolchildren, one day when you go to the mirror you will find smiling has become a habit. Your mouth has forgotten to droop at the corners; you try your best to scowl but you have lost the ability. Depression, unsociability, and lack of goodwill are beginning to get erased from your consciousness.

Every smile can be beautiful when we repeat the mantram, because gradually the mantram brings the smile into our eyes. We start smiling with our lips and end up smiling with our eyes as well. Once we have learned to do this we can never really be angry again. It is good to be with people who have smiling eyes – we do not even have to talk to them because communication is going on all the time at a deeper level.

SRI KRISHNA: 8. They are completely fulfilled by the knowledge and wisdom of the Self. Having conquered their senses, unmoved by opposition, they have climbed to the summit of human consciousness. To such a person a clod of dirt, a stone, and gold are the same.

It is good to remember that gold is not valuable by itself; it is valuable because there is so little of it. If sand were found only in small quantities, people would treasure it in their safe-deposit boxes; they would buy sand certificates, on important occasions they would exchange a little sand, and they would have the expression “as good as sand.” It shows how gullible we are and how little sense of value we have. What really gives value to anything is its usefulness in serving others. Our body draws its value from its usefulness in serving others, and our life draws its value not from the money we make, or the prizes we win, or the power we wield over others, but from the service we give every day to add a little bit more to the happiness of our family and our community. There is no better epitaph than “He lived for others,” and this is all that the Lord asks us to do in order to move closer to him day by day.

The word kutastha, ‘established on the summit,’ describes the man or woman who has learned the supreme skill of life, who has climbed the slopes of the Himalayas within to stand unshaken at the summit of human consciousness, no matter what storms rage about him or her. Not all the forces in the universe can shake one who is established in the Lord, the supreme protector. Gandhi’s life is a perfect example of how one man who is established in himself can stand against all violence and yet be neither afraid nor alone.

There is a story in the Mahabharata in which Duryodhana, the leader of the forces of selfishness, and Arjuna, the leader of the forces of selflessness, go to Sri Krishna to ask for help. Like a good Hindu god, Sri Krishna was having his siesta. There was one chair, a throne, near his head. Duryodhana, who always saw himself as the sun around which other planets should move, came in first and seated himself comfortably in his host’s chair with the complete arrogance of the inflated ego. Sri Krishna, who was not really sleeping, opened his eyes slightly and thought, “That’s where I thought you would sit.” Then Arjuna came in and, seeing the lotus feet of the Lord, sat on the floor with his head at Sri Krishna’s feet. When Sri Krishna opened his eyes, he naturally first saw the man sitting at his feet, and he asked Arjuna what he wanted. Arjuna, showing great love for his enemies, said, “There is somebody in the chair behind you who came before me. Give him what he wants first.” Sri Krishna was greatly touched by Arjuna’s putting Duryodhana first even on this special occasion, so he said, “I have two things to offer. To one of you I can give armies, navies, and any devastating weapon you want. To the other I will give myself.”

Duryodhana made a note of this and said, “This is what I’ve been looking for. Throw in nuclear weapons as well and we’ll be invincible.”

Sri Krishna said, “You can have everything you want, but I won’t come with it.”

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” Duryodhana said. “As long as we have a powerful arsenal, who can beat us?”

Then Sri Krishna asked Arjuna what he wanted, and Arjuna replied, “I don’t want weapons; I want you to be with me and nothing else.”

So Sri Krishna went with Arjuna, and to Duryodhana went all the forces of violence which finally destroyed him and his family. And in our lives, when we follow Arjuna’s example and seek to become united with the Lord of Love within, no amount of violence can shake us.

SRI KRISHNA: 9. They are equally kind to relative, enemy, and a friend; to someone who supports them, someone who is indifferent or neutral, and even someone hateful. Through the ability to give love and respect to all, they rise to great heights.

One of the secrets of victorious living is found in the word samabuddhi, ‘having an equal attitude towards all,’ which tells us to live in harmony with the law of life, to realize that all of us come from God, exist in God, and return to God. In the supreme climax of meditation called samadhi, we see the Lord in everyone, because we see the indivisible unity which is the divine principle of existence.

To everyone, it is necessary to behave with respect: to those who help us, to those who hinder us, to those who talk nicely to us, to those who do not talk to us at all. This is the secret of perfect human relations. Showing respect to our parents, to our friends, and to our enemies not only helps us; it helps them as well. Even if others are not entirely worthy of our respect, when we show respect to them, they begin to rise up to it. If we can keep faith in even the most self-willed people, if we can put our trust in them and expect them to grow, gradually they will try to deserve our respect. We do not have to worry about how the other person will behave towards us, and we do not need to think constantly in terms of reciprocity: “You take the first step; let me see how long it is, and then I’ll take the next – not one inch shorter or longer.” Here my actions are dependent on the other person, and when we act in this way, our steps get smaller and smaller until we do not move at all. In all our relationships, our primary concern should be how best to give our love and respect. When we try in this way to give every possible service without any thought of return or remuneration, others respond deeply and reveal what is divine within them also.

The code of behavior that many so-called civilized people observe is stimulus and response: you love me, I’ll love you; you hate me, I’ll hate you in return. But through the practice of meditation, when we begin to mold ourselves in the image of an inspiring incarnation like Sri Krishna, Jesus the Christ, or the Compassionate Buddha, we will find, to our great delight, that we are no longer dependent on how others conduct themselves towards us. This is real freedom. Now we are far from free; we are always wondering how the other person is going to react. We have all kinds of defenses – moats, drawbridges, walls, and then several trapdoors – which prevent us from acting with natural grace. But when we find the exhilarating freedom in which we are able to give our very best without getting caught up in others’ reactions, others’ attitudes, we find that those around us begin to benefit from our freedom. Those who come into close contact with us will start to lower their defenses, little by little, centimeter by centimeter, and slowly they too will learn to give their very best without worry or fear.

If there is just one person in the family who is self-willed and always on guard, everyone else will automatically raise their defenses a little when they are around that person. It is almost like a reflex; as soon as we see someone who is on guard we say, “That person makes me feel uncomfortable.” When we become comfortable with ourselves, we make everyone else comfortable too. The way to be permanently free from these tensions in personal relationships is to put the welfare of those around us first.

At Ramagiri some of our young men have become master carpenters. One of them is making an oddly shaped table which is full of angles and corners, but all the pieces fit so well that when they are together there are no angles or corners at all. When we try to manipulate someone else to fit into our angles and corners, we are actually making the corners sharper, and the sharper they get the more difficult it is to fit the pieces of our own life together into an harmonious whole. How much happier we would be if we could think less about everyone else’s angles and corners and more about how we can dovetail into their lives: if we could concentrate less on others’ reactions and more on how best to conduct ourselves. Even if others are irritable, we can be more generous. This is the attitude that comes from learning to see the Lord of Love in everyone.

Yesterday when I was taking our dog Muka for a walk I saw a jackrabbit in front of us seated on the road, full of confidence that none of us at Ramagiri would harm him. But seeing Muka, he became unsure and gave a couple of leaps, getting out of our way. Muka looked up at me as if to say, “Why does he have such abnormal legs? Why are the back two so much longer than the front ones?” Muka looks upon his four legs of equal length as normal, and he measures the world from this point of view; anything not conforming to his dimensions is abnormal. The jackrabbit is no different. Looking at the world from his vantage point, he would have said, “What strange legs your dog has – all equal length. How does he manage to hop?” Of course, from our point of view the rabbit’s legs are just right for a rabbit and Muka’s are just right for a dog.

Similarly, most of us live with people who have different opinions than ours. We all have different dimensions, and we each walk or jump forward in our own way; yet there is a common core in all of us. Twelve years ago, when I had just arrived in America, everyone asked me, “How do you like it here?” I always replied, “Just as I liked it there.” There are no differences between people, no matter whether they are in India, Africa, America, or Europe. All our greatness comes from this common humanity, and when we constantly keep our eyes fixed on it, we discover the unity of life which is divine.

SRI KRISHNA: 10. The aspirant should constantly seek the Self within him through the practice of meditation. Controlling his body and his mind he should practice one-pointedness, free from expectations and attachments to material possessions.

Meditation is a dynamic discipline by which we learn to focus our complete concentration at will. Every spiritual aspirant should try to practice ekagrata, or one-pointedness of mind, at all times. In order to become one-pointed, it is necessary to do only one thing at a time, giving full attention to the job at hand. This is a discipline which can deepen our love and loyalty to everyone around us. There is a close connection between deep concentration and loyalty, and with the practice of meditation, we can greatly increase this precious capacity to remain loving and loyal no matter what the vicissitudes or circumstances.

One-pointed attention is something we have to train our minds to achieve, and a good place to begin is with our senses. Often the agitation of the mind is reflected in the restlessness of the eyes. We have only to look at people for a little while to see how tempestuous their minds are; their eyes are like the pendulum of a clock, swinging from one side to the other. As the eyes have never been trained, however, we cannot blame them for thinking their dharma is to be a pendulum. We should train them instead to stop when they get to one side, and keep all their attention there rather than swing immediately somewhere else. Finally, when the mind becomes still, the eyes will become still also. Sri Ramana Maharshi’s eyes were extremely beautiful, for they were so still that to look into them was to fall fathoms deep into infinite love.

We can begin practicing one-pointed concentration today by giving our complete attention to whatever we are doing. While eating, for example, we can give our complete attention to our food and not to the newspaper or book we have brought with us. On one occasion in San Francisco we saw a businessman eating the Wall Street Journal for lunch. He wasn’t paying any attention to his food, so only a few morsels went into his mouth; but he was gorging himself on the newspaper. The same principle of training applies to all the other senses too. Personal conversations give us a splendid opportunity to train our ears. If we are listening to a friend, even if a parrot flies down and perches on his head we should not get excited, point to the parrot, and break out, “Excuse me for interrupting, but there’s a parrot on your head.” We should be able to concentrate so hard on what our friend is saying that we can tell this urge, “Keep quiet and don’t distract me. Afterwards I’ll tell him about the bird.”

Finally we come to the concept of nonattachment. This is where most of us are vulnerable, for just about everyone is caught and ­entangled in all sorts of selfish attachments to people and material objects. As long as we are susceptible to these attachments we are not aware that they are ropes tying us down. It is good to remember the picture of Gulliver lying on the ground, tied by innumerable little ropes to innumerable little pegs by innumerable little men that seem almost like hobgoblins. We, too, are prostrate when we are tied down by countless little selfish, self-willed, and separating attachments to people and to things. It is only when we have broken loose from these ties through the practice of meditation that we find freedom.

SRI KRISHNA: 11. Establish yourself firmly in a clean spot, neither too high nor too low, seated on a cloth, a deerskin, and kusha grass.

Here Sri Krishna advises us to choose a clean place for practicing meditation – clean in the sense of having pure air, quietness, and austerity. Next we should find a suitable way of sitting. It should not be too high, for if we are prone to bouts of sleep we may fall and hurt ourselves. It is wise to sit on the floor, or in a chair with arms. Then Sri Krishna mentions spreading kusha grass and a deerskin. This is how it is done in the traditional ashrams of India, but we can sit on an Acrilan blanket or on our bed and still attain spiritual awareness. What is important is to keep our mind one-pointed. To any question of whether we should sit in the full lotus, half lotus, or quarter lotus positions, we can apply Sri Ramana Maharshi’s pungent comment that we should sit in the posture in which the mind is still.

Currently we are seeing all kinds of paraphernalia advertised for meditation: special incense, shirts, pillows, and even, I am told, kits for regulating brain waves. Please do not fall for this talk about chemical or mechanical grace; there is only one form of grace: that which comes from the Lord of Love within, which leads to self-purification, strengthening of the will, and selfless service.

SRI KRISHNA: 12. Having taken your seat, strive to still your thoughts. Make your mind one-pointed in the practice of meditation, and your heart will be purified.

In order to sit for meditation one has to be firm, not only in body, but in mind as well. Here firmness does not mean sitting rigid and tense as if rigor mortis had set in; it means sitting with the firm resolve to train the mind to come gradually to rest in the Lord.

No matter whether you sit in a chair or on the carpet, the proper posture for meditation is with the spinal column erect. Every time your mind wanders away from the subject of meditation, or you get drowsy or get into a deeper state of concentration, check to make sure your spinal column is straight. Many people are not aware of how their heads droop or turn in meditation, or of how their bodies sway back and forth when a deeper level of consciousness is reached; so without dwelling on it, please check your head and back position occasionally during meditation to make sure they are correct.

Again, Sri Krishna emphasizes here the need to cultivate a one-pointed mind. Our mind is like a grasshopper chirping and jumping from one blade of grass to another, and to train the mind to be one-pointed, we should do only one thing at a time. In our kitchen at Ramagiri this is one of the main principles our cooks observe; when they are cutting a vegetable, they keep their eyes completely on the knife. On one or two occasions they didn’t do this, and minor first aid had to be rendered.

When our attention is wandering, we have to render first aid mentally. People whose attention wanders easily are subject to one of the greatest sources of suffering – boredom. There is nothing more disastrous in life than to be bored, and one of the effective ways to relieve boredom is to give more concentration to whatever we are doing, because it is the quality of attention we give to a job that makes it interesting. Unfortunately, most of us cannot give our attention with complete freedom. We are likely to give it only to things we like. There are people who can give their attention freely to trigonometry, but when you give them poetry they will find it impossible to concentrate. My suggestion is that there is real challenge in doing something we do not like, especially when we are overcome by lethargy, backache, and all kinds of problems that seem to prevent us from getting down to work. At first the mind says, “You may want to work on this project, but I’m not with you.” But you tell it, “It isn’t as bad as it looks, really. Let’s just see what it is like. After all, there is no harm in putting our toes in the water and seeing what the temperature is like.” Then, when the mind has touched the water, you go a little further and say, “Let’s play about a little and see what happens.” Little by little you can coax the mind to get so absorbed that it will say at last, “I’m not going to get out of the water. I like playing about.”

The capacity to give our undivided attention is one of the essential ingredients of the learning process. All of us have unpleasant chores to do, and sometimes it is helpful to draw up a list of things which need to be done joyfully and without delay, including in this list the jobs we detest, the jobs we would rather delegate. By working at such jobs we gradually release ourselves from the tyranny of likes and dislikes, which means we can give our complete concentration to any task, whether it is pleasant or not.

SRI KRISHNA: 13. Hold your body, head, and neck firmly in a straight line, and keep your eyes from wandering.

To sit in meditation with the back, neck, and head in a straight line is not as easy as it sounds. As long as your eyes are open, everything is straight. But once you gently close your eyes and start going through the Prayer of St. Francis slowly in the mind, word by word, you begin to concentrate, which means you begin to sink below the surface level of consciousness. As your concentration increases and the mind begins to get one-pointed, forgetting all the distractions you have been occupied with throughout the day, your nervous system starts to relax. All your knots and taut nerves begin to loosen and there is a very natural sense of how good meditation feels. But simultaneously the trunk begins to shorten, the shoulders hump, the neck disappears, and before you know it, the chin has come to rest on the chest. This is just the time, when meditation feels so nice, so relaxing, to draw yourself up, move away from the back support, and sit again with the back, neck, and head in a straight line. The mind says, “I’m alert now. You can trust me.” You start the memorized passage again, but it is the same old story. You have to keep straightening your posture over and over again until at last, when a wave of sleep comes near you, your will says, “Vanish. Go back where you came from.”

The problem of sleep in meditation will haunt us for some years and as meditation deepens, the will must be strengthened in order to remain awake on a plane of consciousness on which we are not at home, on which we have not learned to travel. In the final stages of meditation, when we go down like a plummet into the depths of our unconscious, there is nothing we can do if we fall asleep. So from now on in meditation, when sleep is overcoming you, draw yourself up by sheer exercise of willpower, keep your spinal column erect, and if necessary open your eyes for a moment and repeat the mantram. At such times you may find it helpful also to look at a picture of Jesus, the Buddha, or some other inspiring spiritual figure. When you have overcome the obstacle of sleep, close your eyes and go back again to the passage.

Not only in meditation can the will be strengthened, but at breakfast, too, when we are eyeing the third piece of toast or the second cup of coffee. Even more effective, when we are greatly agitated and want to go our own way because our parents, partner, friends, or children differ from us, is to make a painful turnabout and go their way instead of ours. If we can do this, the following morning in meditation the wave of sleep will take one look at our will and subside without a murmur. For anyone who wants to overcome the problem of sleep in meditation, this is one of the surest ways to go about it: to make a sudden turnabout and violate one’s own self-will in order to foster the happiness of others. Gradually this turnabout will bring a delicious satisfaction, although not unmixed with pain.

Another reason this erect posture must be maintained, according to the Hindu and Buddhist mystics, has to do with the vast mass of evolutionary energy called kundalini that is located at the base of the spine. As meditation deepens, kundalini rises up through the spinal column, activating the different centers of consciousness. According to this theory, keeping the spinal column erect in meditation, when accompanied by allied disciplines such as discriminating restraint of the senses and putting the welfare of others first, helps kundalini to rise.

Sri Krishna also refers here to the position of the eyes, for this can indicate our state of mind. We can see from someone’s eyes whether the person is angry, sorrowful, or restless, because in these states the pupils keep darting to and fro. Similarly, when the mind is at rest and the heart is full, the eyes become still and begin to shine. If we want the beauty of the eyes to shine forth, we have to learn to still the mind through the practice of meditation.

SRI KRISHNA: 14. When his mind has ceased to wander, a man finds complete fulfillment in me. In this state all fears dissolve in the peace of the Self, and all actions proceed toward me.

As our meditation deepens, the mind will become so calm that agitated people will find rest in our presence, and angry people will be forgiving. Even without preaching to others or advising them, our conduct and our unfailing sympathy and support will have a beneficial influence on all those around us. We are all concerned about external pollution, but internal pollution is equally dangerous. One angry person, for example, can upset a whole family. For some, anger is even a feast, a way of introducing excitement into a dull, torpid existence. When people have been agitated for a long time, it is difficult for them to give up their agitation. We can help them by never indulging in violence ourselves: by never retaliating, never using harsh words, and never failing to love even those who hate us.

It is difficult to understand that most angry people are frightened. As Gandhi told us, those who carry guns are really walking about in fear for their lives. When we trust and respect others, all fear vanishes because those around us become our protector, our shield. Another fear that many have is of growing up. Many of us carry a big cradle on our backs, and wherever we go we put it down, get into it, and lie there saying, “You do what I want you to do, and if you don’t I’m going to howl and howl and howl.” Growing up means taking on life with all its responsibilities and facing whatever comes our way with courage, calmness, and security. We will lose all fears when we realize the Lord is in everyone, making them loving and merciful at heart.

Fear exists only when there is a division in the mind. In the mind there are deep crevices where little bugs of selfishness and separateness live, which thrive on all the minor irritations which occur day in and day out. To remove these little bugs we do not need to use pesticides; all we need to do is reduce our separateness by putting others first, by embracing in our consciousness not only those who support us, which is very easy, but also those who provoke and attack us. Meditation gradually transforms the negative capacity for resentment into a positive capacity for moving closer to our family, our friends, and finally our enemies. By overcoming the obstacles of separateness and self-will that come our way daily in all shapes and sizes, from little irritations to big storms, we eliminate all fear from our consciousness and move closer to the state of perfect peace which is union with the Lord.

SRI KRISHNA: 15. When he constantly controls his mind and senses through the practice of meditation and seeks the Self within, he attains nirvana, the state of abiding joy and peace in me.

Those who keep their eyes on the Lord all the time, who practice meditation regularly with sustained enthusiasm, train their senses, and discipline their minds to be obedient, at last become established in nirvana, the state of abiding joy, in which they see that all of us are one. Nirvana is not to be found beyond the grave; it is found right here in this life. As the Buddha teaches in the Dhammapada, worldly people who live for themselves suffer in this life and afterwards as well, while those who are established in nirvana live in joy both in this life and in the life to come. It is possible to live in the world and find nirvana; it is possible to live within the family and yet be established completely in oneself and see the presence of the Lord everywhere.

SRI KRISHNA: 16. O Arjuna, they will not succeed in the practice of meditation who eat too much or eat too little, who sleep too much or sleep too little.

We should always try to follow the middle path, which means we should strive to be temperate in all we do. We should neither indulge our senses excessively nor mortify them excessively; we should have neither too much wealth nor too much poverty, neither too much learning nor too much ignorance, neither too much work nor too much leisure. Striking this balance in all activities is an exhilarating discipline we all can learn to practice.

Most of us, for example, do not need as much food as we may think we do. One of the finer points of the art of eating is to stop just when you are about to ask for another helping: when your hand is outstretched, you should be able to get up and turn your back on the table. It can be a little distressing at the time, but afterwards you have much more appreciation of the meal. I would suggest that we eat just three times a day – a hearty breakfast after meditation, a moderate lunch, and a lighter dinner, based on the findings of modern nutrition rather than on fads or fancies.

There are all kinds of interesting ways in which we can keep the palate on the middle path. When it is craving candy or a hot fudge sundae, go for a walk repeating the mantram, and bargain for time with the mind by telling it, “In two hours when we are going home we can go to an ice cream parlor for a deluxe sundae.” Interestingly enough, two hours later the mind has forgotten ice cream sundaes and is thinking about the movie it will enjoy tomorrow evening. All you need do is put just a little break of time between the palate and its desire, for you can count on the mind to change its desires. A gentler technique, whenever the mind asks for some unnutritious delicacy like a chocolate candy bar, is to try giving it raisins instead. Very soon it will stop asking for candy.

Playing these little tricks on the mind will bring no harm, but do not be violent with it. Treat it gently, patiently, and compassionately; since we have allowed it license for so many years, it is not fair to expect it to come to heel in a day or two. Occasionally, however, when there is a first-rate conflict – when you see a wave of resentment, anxiety, or frustration welling up – it is helpful to skip a meal. When this is done with discrimination, taking particular care that the body is not deprived of its energy, you will find that not only is the mind easier to control, the body benefits too.

Too much sleep, too, is bad for the body, mind, and meditation. When we sleep too much, we may be unable to face a challenge; then, instead of stretching out to meet the challenge, the will simply becomes paralyzed. Sleeping too much is like saying, “I don’t like being human; I prefer to be inert like an old tree, or a rock.” But too little sleep is equally an enemy of meditation. In order to live in harmony with the laws of life, we need to observe the rhythm of night and day by going to sleep as early as possible at night and getting up as early as possible in the morning. When you get into bed early, repeat the mantram until you fall asleep. Though at first you may not fall asleep easily, you will have no trouble after your body has had a little time to recondition itself. All our habits can be changed completely by using the immense learning tool we acquire through meditation. Going to sleep too early or too late, getting up too early or too late, eating too much or too little, bursting out in anger or crying in agitation – these are all just repeated patterns of thinking, speaking, and acting which can be altered through the practice of meditation.

SRI KRISHNA: 17. The person who has learned to be detached in all his actions through the practice of meditation, who is temperate in eating and sleeping, work and recreation, will come to the end of sorrow.

Sorrow is necessary for us only when we require it to grow to our full stature. We can think of the Lord as a physical education teacher; he looks us over carefully and selects those of us who are drooping with selfishness and self-will. To these he gives sorrow, saying, “Let me give you some special exercises to help you grow as tall and as straight as you can.” When we have grown to our full height and can push ourselves out of the way to become sensitive to the needs of others, the Lord will say, “You don’t require any more sorrow, any more ordeals. You have gone beyond all suffering by extinguishing your self-will and selfishness. Now you are ready to help reduce the suffering and sorrow of those around you.”

If we start looking carefully at our own suffering, we shall find that it often comes to teach us to stop repeating our mistakes. In my young ignorance I committed many mistakes, and much sorrow came my way. But through my grandmother’s blessing came the desire never to be separate or selfish, and with it the horror of being angry or violent towards any living creature. I was able to learn the lessons of sorrow so that it became impossible for me to commit the same mistakes again. When we have learned not to commit selfish mistakes in life, not to impose our self-will upon our dear ones, our society, and even our enemies, there is no reason why personal suffering should come to us at all.

SRI KRISHNA: 18. Through constant effort a person learns to withdraw the mind from selfish cravings to the Self within, and thus attains union with the Lord.

In the early days of meditation we often seem to hear, as it were, two tape recorders playing in our consciousness at the same time. The first tape is the inspirational passage we are using in meditation; the second is a distraction expressing itself in words that contradict and distort the words of the passage. On such occasions all we have to do is give more and more attention to the words of the passage, which means that we are giving less and less attention to the second tape recorder. For a long, long time our meditation will be this dull, dreary discipline of bringing the mind back to the words of the passage and shunning associations and distractions. But if we persist the great day will come, through the grace of the Lord, when our mind will not wander once from the Upanishads or the Prayer of St. Francis. At that time we will not be aware of the jets roaring in the sky, or the trumpets blaring in our neighbor’s apartment; we will not be aware of the body which we have always believed ourselves to be. Even if the rapture of this state lasts for only a few minutes, it is long enough for the Divine Physician to dissolve our tensions, resolve our conflicts, and give us the certitude that we can function with a new freedom no matter what problems come our way.

In this verse Sri Krishna tells Arjuna viniyatam cittam: “Have a completely disciplined mind; be the master of your senses and mind.” The Buddha would say that most of us do not live intentionally. In fact, he would question whether most of us are actually alive; to him we are like puppets pulled by forces outside ourselves, running after what satisfies our senses and away from what violates our self-will. This is not living; this is being flotsam and jetsam on the sea of life. Only when we have brought our senses under control, when we have extinguished our self-will, can we say we live intentionally.

Just imagine what would happen if all the cars in a city were to roll out of their garages and roar out onto every road at top speed without a driver, without obeying signals or traffic rules. There would be hundreds of accidents. This is just what is happening today when people go about driven by their senses, controlled by their self-will instead of sitting in the driver’s seat directing their body, senses, and mind. I admire the ease with which good drivers drive; it is almost as though they have eyes in the back of the head. In order to master the art of living we too need eyes in the back of our heads to be able to look at our behavior in the past and correct ourselves wherever we made mistakes. When we have learned in this way to respect the freedom of all, never to manipulate others and never to attack others, we have a driver’s license which is valid always. This is the sign of those who are established in themselves: they do not collide with those who are angry but go about with love and respect for others no matter what the circumstances.

SRI KRISHNA: 19. When meditation is mastered, the mind is unwavering like the flame of a lamp in a sheltered place.

When I was at the University of Kansas I visited the President Truman Museum where I saw a little clay lamp from Israel, on whose pedestal were inscribed these words from Proverbs 20:27: “The spirit of man is the candle of the Lord.” These clay lamps, common in ancient Jerusalem, are still used today in Kerala, where they are lit and placed in an alcove of the shrine. Since there is no wind in the protected niche, the tongue of the flame burns without a flicker.

In the depths of your meditation, when you are concentrating on an inspirational passage such as the Prayer of St. Francis, your mind should be like the tongue of a flame in a windless place, motionless and steady. At that time you will be concentrating completely on the words of the prayer, which means that you are slowly becoming like St. Francis in your daily conduct and consciousness. It requires enormous endeavor to do this, but through ceaseless effort I think every one of us can reach the state in which the mind, like the flame of the clay lamp, does not flicker or waver at all.

SRI KRISHNA: 20. In the still mind the Self reveals itself. From the depths of meditation a man draws the joy and peace of complete fulfillment.

21. Having attained that abiding joy beyond the senses, revealed in the stilled mind, he will never swerve from the eternal truth that all life is one.

22. In this state he desires nothing else, and cannot be shaken by the heaviest burdens of sorrow.

23. The practice of meditation frees him from all affliction. This is the path of yoga. Follow it with determination and sustained enthusiasm.

In these verses Sri Krishna is trying to tell us, as far as words can convey, the state we reach when our mind becomes completely one-pointed. First of all, we see ourselves as we really are. Up until this point, the one person we have never seen is ourselves. When Nureyev appeared in San Francisco not long ago there were quite a few ballet fans who, I was told, flew all the way from New York to see him. The mystics would point out how fruitless it is to go to see important people when our first priority is to see ourselves. We think we know Tom, Dick, and Harry, but we really know everyone, including ourselves, only on the surface level. If we could see our real Self coming down Ashram Street, we would wonder who this beautiful, radiant, magnificent creature could be. We would not be able to take our eyes away, we would be so full of love. Then our real Self would come to us, slowly, step by step, and enter our consciousness. All of us are full of dazzling beauty just waiting to reveal itself, and in order to let this radiance emerge all we must do is throw off the mask of the self-willed, separate ego with which we identify ourselves today.

Once we have seen our real Self in all its glory, no treasure on earth, no achievement, no pleasure is even worth mentioning. When we look at money, it is only dull metal; when we look at pleasure, it is just dull tinsel; when we look at power and prestige, they are no more than dime-store jewelry. Today we can be excited about the pursuit of little satisfactions because we lack a frame of reference in which to evaluate them meaningfully. It is only when we have made a certain amount of progress on the spiritual path through meditation that we develop a standard of comparison. When we acquire this deeper, clearer point of view, we can compare the joy of St. Francis to the joy of going into a pizza parlor, or the joy of Meister Eckhart to that of going into a beer garden. Then we realize we have been penny-wise and pound-foolish in life, going after trivia when we could as well go after the supreme goal.

In the final stages of meditation the whole burden of regret, resentment, vague longing, and restlessness falls away. This is the end of all sorrow. We become established in the Lord and see him in the heart of every creature – human, beast, bird – and in all life. With this inspiring picture of the goal of meditation, Sri Krishna appeals to Arjuna: “Make your will resolute, and throw yourself into this spiritual endeavor so that you too will go beyond sorrow to become established in the indivisible unity that is divine.”

SRI KRISHNA: 24. Renouncing wholeheartedly all selfish desires and expectations, use your will to control the senses.

In order to attain the supreme state of complete security and boundless joy, we have to renounce every trace of selfish desire and sweep away the last little selfish urge hiding in the cobwebs in the corner of the ego. For the vast majority of us, this takes a whole lifetime of sweeping with the broom of meditation.

Every morning my grandmother used to sweep the veranda of our house, which was constantly threatened by the dust of tropical India. If she had neglected her sweeping, the dust would have grown thick after just one morning; and if left unswept for a few weeks, the entire veranda would have been hidden under the dust. Similarly, our minds get cluttered and covered with debris when we fail to have our daily meditation. We may be tempted to meditate only once or twice a week, so that on weekdays we can devote all our time to pursuing our pleasure and profit. But when we try to clean only on the weekend, it takes all day. Even then we sometimes add further difficulties by stimulating our senses. After a few weekends like this, we begin to clean only once a month, but at that point the pile of dirt and debris is too high for even a vacuum cleaner to clear away.

The way to keep the mind clean and pure is to spend half an hour every day, no matter what other responsibilities we have, in the practice of meditation. If we do this regularly every morning, we gradually shall find that it becomes easy to keep the place clean. By practicing meditation regularly and keeping our senses under control, we can clean away the debris of sankalpa, all our selfish desires, and make room for the Lord of Love. Without the practice of meditation, it is difficult to bring the senses under control, and without sense control, it is difficult to rise above the physical body; without rising above the physical body, it is not possible to discover the indivisible unity of life. From this we can see how important it is to devote a half hour every morning – such a small amount of time – regularly and enthusiastically to the practice of meditation.

SRI KRISHNA: 25. Keep your mind from wandering. Little by little, through patience and repeated effort, the mind will become stilled in the Self.

Instead of being impatient and always wondering when the Lord will come, if we throw ourselves heart and soul into the practice of meditation and the allied disciplines of sense restraint and selfless service, gradually over the years we shall become complete master of every area of consciousness. On the spiritual path we must make every effort to move forward even if it is little by little, even if every day we keep making mistakes. Sometimes we are so insensitive and preoccupied with ourselves that when we try to put others first we simply are not aware of their needs. Our mistakes begin to haunt us; but rather than sitting in a corner and crying over the day’s errors, or developing a comfortable guilt complex, we should repeat the mantram and make sure that we do not repeat the same mistakes the next day.

I remember how difficult it was for me to change my food habits, especially after years of highly spiced Indian food which was sadly lacking in nutrition. In the company of friends, seated around the table, you sometimes cannot resist temptation. When they are smacking their lips over french-fried potatoes or English muffins spread thick with butter, you find yourself joining in, and before you know it you have eaten food that will not help your body, mind, or intellect. In meditation, when I used to come to the verse in the Gita where the Lord says, “Those who allow their senses to sweep them away are like little boats caught in a storm – they will never make harbor,” it would stab me like a dagger. The memory of something I had eaten would try to prevent me from meditating, but I would concentrate more and more on the words of the passage as hard as I could. During the day, when I was tempted to indulge in some special sweet, all that I had to do was think of how I would have to go through all that conflict again. When the senses are trying to sweep us away from the path, when our self-will is disrupting relationships with those around us, it is good to remind ourselves that even though we may get some temporary satisfaction, we will have to go through the pain of ridding ourselves of these selfish desires all over again.

In learning to control the mind, the repetition of the holy name is an invaluable aid. When we get angry or afraid, we should not ask the mind why it is in such a state, because this gives it more attention and intensifies its anger or fear. The mind is something like a high-powered computer which sometimes goes out of order, and when it gets angry or afraid, this is just a mechanical breakdown which does not affect our real Self at all. If anger or fear is taking possession of the mind, the way to prevent a breakdown is to go for a long, brisk walk repeating the mantram, and anger will become compassion, fear will become courage, and hatred will become love.

By doing this for many years, we can correct our destructive responses and cultivate a positive, constructive state of mind. Even if our habits have been developing since we were two years old, they can be changed through the practice of meditation. In this sense meditation is the most powerful learning tool we have, and though it may take years of hard work to get hold of it, once we have acquired this immense skill nothing on earth can equal the satisfaction, the joy, and the sense of mastery it will bring. We are all subject to deep resentments going back to the early days of our childhood. Usually there is very little that we can do about these deep-seated problems, but with the learning tool of meditation we can travel into the depths of our consciousness and get rid of them once and for all.

When you are able to travel into deeper levels of consciousness, you may have an experience in your sleep in which something ­almost like a pistol shot goes off in your head. On the following morning, you can almost see your inhibitions lying at the foot of the bed. You get up and feel as if shackles have been taken off your feet, as if handcuffs have been removed from your hands. This will take place over and over again, because we have a list of fears to shed as big as a Sears Roebuck catalog, and it is only after we have shed all these fears and resentments that we will find ourselves in the supreme state, seeing the Lord everywhere, in everyone, all the time.

SRI KRISHNA: 26. It is the nature of the mind to be restless and diffuse, always seeking satisfaction without. Lead it within; train it to rest in the Self.

The nature of the mind is to desire, to desire, to desire, and most of us firmly believe that permanent joy can be found by satisfying our desires. The mind is such a cunning, clever customer that I have a sneaking admiration for it when it comes and says it will make us happy by giving us, say, Helen of Troy. We fall for the mind’s tempting promise, but we find the Cyclopes instead. When we complain to the mind, “Hey, Desire, this is not what you promised – people with eyes in their foreheads trying to gobble us up,” the mind says, “Well, that was just an experiment; here is a real offer for happiness, and if you will accept it, I’m sure you will be completely satisfied.” Again we are convinced that we will not be led astray, but it is still the same story: we still haven’t learned; we still go searching for joy outside ourselves. Some of the great mystics have thrown up their hands at the number of times we have to go around the world before we see that it is round, at the way we turn our back upon joy until we discover, through the grace of the Lord, that joy has been right here within us all the time.

One of the games I used to enjoy was table tennis, and with concentration I mastered all sorts of styles of gripping the paddle and returning the ball. I haven’t played table tennis for many years now, but with the news of how table tennis tournaments between China and the United States have mended international relations, I had a little yearning to play the game again. Now when two people are arguing I can always bring them together and say, “Let’s play table tennis.” When we were in Portland, Oregon, we visited Reed College, where we found a room with tables and paddles but not a ball in sight. I felt a little frustrated having gone that far out of my way to play table tennis and not being able to, but I repeated the mantram a few times and forgot all about the incident. Then yesterday at dinner one of our friends told us he had discovered a table complete with balls and paddles in the barn at Ramagiri. Imagine going to Oregon and looking for table tennis equipment when all the time it is lying right there in your barn! This is my illustration of Jesus’ statement, “The kingdom of heaven lies within.”

In order to realize this inner joy for ourselves, it is necessary to still the mind, to rid it of all selfish desires and expectations. This is what we are learning to do in meditation when we bring our mind back every time it wanders away from the words of the inspirational passage to the movie theater or the supermarket. As time goes on, the mind will wander less and less, so that after some years we may have to bring it back only two or three times. In deeper meditation the great day may come when it does not wander away at all but stays put on the words of the inspirational piece, which means the mind is so concentrated in all its power that it lights up the whole passage. In the mystical tradition this is described as the words opening their doors and taking us in. They are no longer just words we are repeating in our mind; they have become integrated into our consciousness, transforming our character and our daily lives. When we can concentrate completely on St. Francis’s words, “It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,” then instead of holding things against our parents, our children, or our friends, we will be able to open our arms wide to them. We will be able to stand steadfast with love and respect for those who oppose us, and our former enemy will come to us as a good friend. This steadfast love for all is abiding joy.

SRI KRISHNA: 27. Abiding joy comes to those who still the mind and senses, who free themselves from the taint of self-will and unify their consciousness in the Lord.

Those who see the Lord present in all life have unshakable strength, for they are rooted in the Lord. Not all the dangers in the world will shake them out of their security, because nothing can agitate them: their minds are still, and their thoughts are completely under control.

Every day we have opportunities for spiritual growth when things happen to us which we do not like, which start the mind moving in all directions in agitation. There is no use getting mad at the mind, because the angrier we get at the mind, the more we will be agitated. The best thing to do is to keep the mind quiet by repeating the mantram over and over again. If you cannot repeat the mantram in your mind, write it in a book kept for this purpose. We used to have people dropping in at odd hours very agitated, and when they would start telling me what so-and-so said and how they wish they could have put him in his place, I would give them the mantram notebook and ask them to write the mantram in it two hundred times. When they had finished writing, they would leave with their minds peaceful. It is not at all helpful to exchange agitating stories, so when people start narrating their tales of resentment, ask them to write the mantram a number of times instead.

Another secret for stilling an agitated mind is to throw yourself into work with no thought of reward or remuneration. A necessary part of spiritual discipline for most young people is hard physical work, which when combined with the use of the mantram calms the mind.

When all our selfish, agitating desires have been expelled from our mind, what is left is pure joy, pure spirit, of which we have been unaware all this time. Joy is imprisoned within us, just waiting to be released from the jailer, our selfish desires. To release it, all we have to do is eliminate every selfish craving and extinguish every selfish impulse, which takes tremendous effort and inexhaustible patience.

Spiritual joy is sometimes described as a bashful girl who is just waiting to tiptoe up and put her arms about us, while all we are trying to do is keep her away. Our selfish desires and cravings tell us not to let her come near us because then they will have to go; and since we are under an hypnotic spell of ignorance, we believe that these selfish urges, which make us miserable to the point of agony, are our real friends. It is astonishing that we can be so perverse as to do just the things that will make us unhappy. Resentment and retaliation tear us apart, yet we let ourselves be driven by them. Instead, we need to learn to accept joy, who is always ready to come to us. This is what we are learning to do through the practice of meditation, to throw open our arms and welcome the joy of living that has been waiting all this time to embrace us.

SRI KRISHNA: 28. This infinite joy of union with the Lord is easily attained by those who are free from the burden of self-will and established within themselves.

It is wise to remind ourselves that our real Self is absolutely pure; in our natural state we are untainted by any selfish desires, completely free of self-will. Anger, fear, greed, lust, malice – these are all unnatural states that we have come to accept as natural. Today we are imprisoned by our passions and cravings, but through the practice of meditation we can break off these shackles and live freely like the eagle soaring in the air.

Several days ago at Ramagiri I watched six baby swallows learn how to fly. They were seated on the telephone wires observing the mother bird, who came flying slowly in front of them, doing the easier turns and showing them the basics of flying. There was no point in telling these baby swallows to read books or attend lectures on how to fly; they have an inborn instinct for flying. They learn the skills of flight by watching their mother, who was showing her babies that there was no need to sit there quaking as if they were going to fall. Learning to fly may not be easy, but this is what birds are born to do. This was the lesson she taught her little ones.

Likewise, Sri Krishna sees us sitting on a perch made of pleasure, profit, power, or prestige, quaking with every variation in our bank account and every critical comment that comes our way, and he asks us if we would not rather forget our failings, weaknesses, and insecurities and become united with him. This is what we are born to do: to turn our back on our selfish interests and give all our love to the Lord, so that all the faculties and resources which have been hidden in us can come into our lives to the great benefit of those around us. Then we will no longer be acting; the Lord will take hold of our arms and act through us.

Today at a park in San Francisco we saw a mime show in which a young man really illustrated, to my mind, how we can be transformed when we yield ourselves to the Lord’s direction. At first the mime was seated on a bench, talking and eating like everyone else; then he started his performance, and all his movements changed as if some puppeteer were standing behind him pulling the strings. There were all sorts of people passing by, and he had an uncanny knack for imitating them. I enjoyed the performance so much because it showed what all of us are like when we are ego-driven. For example, a high-powered businessman was shooting along to the financial district repeating his Dow Jones mantram. He was annoyed at the mime’s clever caricature of his self-important air, but the young fellow’s gestures were so eloquent that he forgot his high-powered business freeze and became a human being again and walked on smiling. The only occasion on which the young fellow lost was when a buxom, middle-aged lady came along; when he tried to imitate her, she just hugged him.

When we are ego-driven, living for ourselves, revenging the wrongs others do to us and hating those who hate us, we are like the people the mime was imitating. But if we surrender ourselves to the Lord, when he picks us up and pulls the strings behind us we can make a tremendous contribution to the welfare of all those who come in contact with us.

SRI KRISHNA: 29. They see that the Lord is enshrined in every creature, and that all creation comes from the Lord. With consciousness unified through the practice of meditation, they see the Lord everywhere.

The mark of the man or woman who has become united with the Lord is that he or she sees the Lord in all fellow beings, in every form of life. In one of the delightful anecdotes in the Mahabharata, Dharmaputra, the oldest of the Pandavas, turns up at the gates of heaven with his dog. Dvarapala, the gatekeeper, takes down all the vital information about Dharmaputra – name, address, siblings – and then he notices the dog. “Sorry,” says Dvarapala, “we don’t admit dogs. See that little sign? It says Dogs Not Allowed.” Then follows an awfully confusing situation: Dharmaputra is established in the Lord and should be admitted, but what should be done about the dog? Finally Dvarapala gives Dharmaputra a choice: to enter heaven alone, without the dog, or to go back where he came from with his dog. Without the slightest hesitation, Dharmaputra chooses to be with his dog, who is then immediately revealed as Lord Krishna in disguise.

Those who are illumined see the Lord in every creature and are incapable of exploiting any other being for their own profit or pleasure. When we were on the Blue Mountain, we once saw a little black calf, only a few months old, being led to slaughter. I looked at the calf, and it was as if tears were flowing from his eyes; he was trying to tell me in his dumb language, “See what your brother is going to do to me?” Right then I decided that at every opportunity I would put in a good word on behalf of all animals.

It is not easy to understand, when we are caught in cultural habits, that eating meat violates the indivisible unity of life. It used to be very difficult to find a restaurant that served vegetarian food. Now, however, there are good vegetarian restaurants springing up in many cities, and at every chance we get, we can recommend these restaurants to our friends. This is a simple way of showing our love and respect for the Lord, who lives in the lamb, the deer, the cow, and all other forms of life.

SRI KRISHNA: 30. I am ever present to those who have realized me in every creature. Seeing all life as my manifestation, they are never separated from me.

Now the Lord tells us that when we see him in everyone, when we show everyone the same courtesy and consideration regardless of what they do to us, we will receive his guidance, and he will protect us against all the storms of life. We can cultivate this equal vision every day by trying to see the Lord in everyone around us.

If in spite of our best efforts we become angry, agitated, or afraid, we can bring our mind back to the state of calmness by going for a walk repeating the mantram. The rhythm of our footsteps and the rhythm of the mantram will blend and stabilize the rhythm of our breathing, which is closely connected with our state of mind. Angry people breathe irregularly; those who are calm, loving, and secure breathe like a little child, smoothly, slowly, and deeply.

Even if we turn to the Lord as a last resort, when all else fails, he is still content to receive us. When I was at the University of Minnesota I became friends with a young fellow from Kerala studying to be an engineer. He had always been a good student, but the night before his final examination he came to me afraid and anxious that he might fail. He had tried pep pills and lecture notes, but when they failed to dispel his fears he had come to see if there was anything in the Gita that could help him. I did not ask him why he had not come six years sooner; I just told him that the Lord is always glad when we come to him, always ready to help us when ruin is staring us in the face and all other paths have failed. He was so relieved to hear this that he asked me what exactly Sri Krishna had to say about engineering exams in the Gita. I told him that there was no exact reference, but in times of danger – “Oh,” he broke in, “that’s my final, all right. Real danger – I’ll lose my scholarship and my lifelong desire to be an engineer will never be fulfilled.” So I asked him to repeat the mantram while I took him for a walk from Minneapolis to Saint Paul and then back again – a distance of about twelve miles. He was so completely relaxed when we got home that he was asleep before his head touched the pillow. The breathing exercise of walking with the mantram changed his anxiety and insecurity into calm assurance that he would do well in his exam, and he did, too.

Whenever we have a difficult examination or a trying emotional situation to face, the best thing we can do is repeat the mantram. In going to sleep at night, it is simple to close our eyes and repeat the holy name until we fall asleep. No matter how difficult the problems we have to face, this simple tonic will rest and refresh us so that we will be at our best in meeting the day’s challenges. I have the responsibility of guiding the meditation of hundreds of people, but when I go to bed now, after years of practice, I can just hand my responsibilities over to the Lord. The mantram takes over so that I hear it in my sleep, so that I see the Lord in my sleep; and when I wake up I am refreshed in body, mind, and spirit, able to face whatever the day brings because I have placed my burden at the feet of the Lord.

SRI KRISHNA: 31. They worship me in the hearts of all, and all their actions proceed from me. Wherever they may live, they abide in me.

Outward signs of spiritual effort such as going to temple or church are no substitute for the practice of meditation, for without meditation we will not have the capacity for transforming anger into compassion, ill will into good will, and hatred into love. We may have a brilliant intellect, may have won the Nobel Prize; but when it comes to changing anger into sympathy or hostility into kindness, we will be helpless without the spiritual discipline of meditation.

You have probably seen that huge machine which demolishes old buildings by hoisting a heavy metal ball high into the air and then dropping it with a terrific crash. This is similar to what occurs in the early stages of meditation, in which we destroy old habits of acting, speaking, and thinking. This is a painful process; the joy comes when we start rebuilding. At that point we do not have to drive miles to pick up materials, cart them home, unload them, and store them until we are ready to use them. The Lord has all the materials ready, and he is waiting to hand them to us as we need them. We have only to demolish our self-will and selfishness and he will give us the materials of love, wisdom, patience, and endurance with which to build a house that can never be destroyed.

If we continue to use our old house, built with selfishness, fear, and anger, without a secure foundation, it is likely to crash and bury us in its ruins. But if we tear down the old, creaking structure and build a new one on firm foundations, with materials given by the Lord, then we will live free from anxiety and fear. With such a house, we will be able to offer shelter to more and more of those around us. This is another way of phrasing the truth that Sri Krishna never tires of repeating: “Do not depend on things outside yourself, on money, possessions, power, or fame, for they will not bring lasting joy or security; they will bring only a temporary satisfaction which will leave you weaker and weaker with the passage of time.”

SRI KRISHNA: 32. When a person responds to the joys and sorrows of others as if they were his own, he has attained the highest state of spiritual union.

In this verse Sri Krishna sums up the entire art of living in one simple, practical suggestion: to understand how to behave towards others, all we have to do is understand that what gives us pain gives others pain also. Jesus uses similar language when he tells us, “All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.”

We can apply this wise advice even to the smallest trifles of daily living. When we are waiting for a friend who is a few minutes late, for example, we look at our watch, shake it, and get more agitated as the seconds go by. But when we are half an hour late, we expect our friend to be patient and understanding. We expect others to overlook our few foibles because of our many virtues, yet at the same time we consider it our prerogative to point out everyone else’s weaknesses and mistakes. To understand others, to be considerate towards others, we have only to recognize how much we appreciate consideration ourselves.

The person with real spiritual consideration will help others forget about their failings. Learning to make others comfortable, even when they have made a mistake, is another way of going beyond our petty little selves and becoming aware of everyone else’s needs. The more we can forget ourselves by being sensitive and aware of everyone else, the more the Lord comes to life in us. The Compassionate Buddha was good at driving this point home to his disciples. He would tell them there was nothing to discourse or debate about in understanding other people: what offends you, offends others. It is that simple. When someone makes a sarcastic remark about us, we are not exactly delighted; therefore, we cannot afford to make sarcastic remarks to others.

Harsh thoughts, resentful thoughts, can wound others more deeply than knives. We are not used to thinking of thoughts as things; our idea of a thing is something we can put in a cup and rattle. We are unaware of the cacophony of the thoughts that rattle in our consciousness. If we could open our inner ear, we would be surprised to hear these hateful thoughts making such horrible noises in our consciousness: “I hate you, I hate you,” or “Drop dead, drop dead.” Such hateful thoughts injure others like a knife we throw at them over and over, and injure us too because each thought rankles and digs further into our consciousness as the days go by. Yet thoughts can be curative also. When people burst out in anger against us, if we can remain friendly, not hold their mistakes against them, and move closer to them, we will bring them continual relief from their anger. This is true of even the roughest character; everyone responds to forbearance and forgiveness, which bless not only the one who gives them and the one who receives them, but everyone who associates with the man or woman who forgives.

ARJUNA: 33. O Madhusudana, the complete stillness of union which you describe is beyond my comprehension. How can the mind, which is so restless, attain lasting peace?

Madhu is the name of a demon, the ego demon; sudana refers to one who destroys. This is a beautiful name for Sri Krishna: Madhusudana, ‘the slayer of the ego.’ Arjuna addresses him in this way with great respect, confessing that he sees no way of conquering his restless, turbulent mind.

We know that in meditation there are days when we come confidently out of the meditation room thinking we have performed the funeral ceremony of the ego; but then, on the following morning in meditation, we hear a titter from the mind which says, “Fooled you, didn’t I?” Sometimes we feel almost ridiculous for trying to conquer this demon called the mind; yet we must not let ourselves lapse into negative thinking, for it is completely within our power to reshape our mind, our conduct, and our destiny. We do this by making intentional choices about how we act, how we speak, and how we think, day in and day out. By using inspirational passages like the Prayer of St. Francis or the second chapter of the Gita, our choices in daily living will become wiser and more in harmony with the selfless ideal we are meditating upon. In this way we begin to transform our thinking from fear, anxiety, and despair into courage, love, and wisdom.

ARJUNA: 34. O Krishna, the mind is restless, turbulent, and violent. Trying to control the mind is like trying to control the wind.

Now Arjuna gets down to specifics by telling the Lord, “You might as well ask me to control the wind, to ride on a storm or to master a hurricane, as to control my mind.” Even the expression “I think” is more a euphemism than a statement of fact: we do not think most of our thoughts; they think us. We sit in meditation with a deep desire to meditate on the Lord, but how is it our thoughts go to the local pizza parlor, or to the movie we saw? The answer is that the mind just thinks what thoughts it likes. When we at last become aware, through meditation, of the lack of liberty in our own realm, we get the incentive to drive the usurper, our ego, from the throne. The ego is seated there scepter in hand, and since we do not know that he really isn’t king, we all say, “You command, we obey.” Patanjali, the great teacher of ancient India, calls meditation raja yoga, the ‘royal path,’ the way to depose the ego and reinstate the Lord as the true ruler of our body, mind, and spirit.

Having listened to Arjuna’s lamentation that the battle of the ego is too fierce for him, and heard him say he can defeat others but not his own selfish passions, Sri Krishna now smiles lovingly, puts his arm around his friend, and encourages him to take on his greatest foe, his own selfishness and separateness.

SRI KRISHNA: 35. It is true that the mind is restless and difficult to control. But it can be conquered, O Mahabaho, through regular practice and detachment.

The Lord does not address Arjuna as “mister” here; he calls him Mahabaho, ‘you whose arms extend to the heavens.’ Our arms, too, can extend to the heavens if we try to reach beyond ourselves. Today we are leading selfish lives, going after what concerns us, oblivious of the needs of others, and this selfishness has crippled our arms. But the Lord of Love tells us that if we stretch our arms wide to embrace everyone, if we use them for comforting and strengthening others, we will find them growing longer and longer until finally we will be able to reach out and catch the Lord.

Stretching our arms is not easy, for it takes untiring effort and the grit to bear with others no matter how unlovingly they treat us. We start strengthening our arms right with our family, with our friends, and on our job, by doing little things for others. It is easiest to begin by establishing good relationships with our family, because they want to be loving and close as much as we do. Then, after we have brought a cease-fire to the guerilla warfare in our own home, we can gradually develop good relationships with our neighbors, then with our city council, then on to the state capital; and finally, when we have proven ourselves to be an unshakable negotiator for peace, we can work on a national and international level.

Yesterday we took the children to start their swimming lessons, and I was recalling how I learned swimming from my grandmother in just two easy lessons. First she showed me how; then she told me to get into the water and swim like her, reassuring me that she would rescue me if I needed help. I had such trust and faith in her that I plunged right in and, after swallowing some water, started swimming. In contrast, the gradual, incremental method of the modern instructor is a safe and sure way of teaching a large number of people to swim. From what I saw yesterday, they start you out in the baby pool, blowing bubbles. Then they take you on to kicking, and when this is mastered, you learn to dog paddle. Likewise, on the spiritual path the incremental approach is the logical sequence for us. We gradually make our arms long and strong by setting our lives right, first in our own homes and then in our community and society.

The instructions we need to follow to develop selflessness are very simple. Practice meditation regularly every day. Repeat the mantram at every opportunity. Restrain the senses with temperate, moderate choices, and put the welfare of all those around you first. At the swimming pool I saw an object lesson in what is meant by carrying out instructions. An excellent instructor was teaching four children to dive by showing them all the movements they should follow to do a perfect dive. Although all four were listening to everything he said, and watching him closely, each gave a different performance. The little girl did such a perfect dive that I had to hold myself back from applauding loudly. She had the capacity to translate instruction into practice. Then came the little boys: one did a belly flop, another tried to curl into a ball, and the third, overenthusiastic, landed on his back. For them, the capacity to translate instruction into practice was still in the making. Like the little girl, we should try to remember Sri Krishna’s instructions exactly and follow them to the letter.

In the second line Sri Krishna tells us there are two essential aids for bringing the mind under control. One is abhyasa: regular, systematic practice. Every day, no matter what problems try to interfere, we must get up as early as we can and meditate. When we do this regularly, our practice will become perfect. The other is vairagya: detachment from our opinions, our actions, our ego. We are so entangled and embroiled in ourselves that we take everything personally. Once, after I had been talking about some of our human weaknesses, someone in the audience indignantly asked me why I had been talking about her that way in public. Anger, jealousy, malice – these are weaknesses we all have. Instead of giving in to them, however, we should turn our back on these petty demands for attention and go against our frustration and anger when these demands are not met. With sustained practice of meditation and sustained detachment from the ego, Sri Krishna reassures us that we will be able to reach him at last.

SRI KRISHNA: 36. Those who lack self-control will find it difficult to progress in meditation. But those who are earnest in the practice of meditation and self-restraint will attain the goal.

If we are prepared to base our lives on meditation and follow Sri Krishna’s instructions exactly, union with the Lord is possible. But if we are lethargic or sporadic – if we start out on the spiritual path with a big bang and end up with a whimper – the unitive state is not possible. The Sanskrit word arambhashura, ‘hero at the beginning,’ describes this second type perfectly.

Those who succeed on the spiritual path are the pluggers, the ones who will not give up. If they cannot run, they will walk; if they cannot walk, they will crawl. They will not take no for an answer. To reach a selfless goal, they are prepared to climb over any obstacle; whatever barriers are in their way, they will pile them up into a big heap to climb over an even greater barrier. If we keep trying to make the most of these opportunities, we will discover that there is joy in overcoming what seemed to be an immovable obstacle. At first these efforts to grow are extremely painful, because they usually require us to go against our self-will. But if we keep our eyes on the supreme goal, these agonizing stabs will turn into little pinpricks and finally into just the tickling of a feather. When we have such complete, unqualified dedication to the supreme goal, we shall find what joy there is in going forward on the spiritual path.

ARJUNA: 37. Krishna, what happens to the man who has faith, but who wanders from the path and loses sight of the goal?

Here Arjuna is very much our representative, giving voice to the disquieting doubts that keep nibbling at little bits of our consciousness. Sounding like a skeptical modern man, Arjuna asks Sri Krishna: “Supposing that after practicing meditation for some years, a force beyond my control makes me give it up. Are all those years of hard discipline wasted?” This is a question we are all likely to ask in the early stages of meditation.

After we have been meditating for some years we will gradually begin to see some of its great rewards. By bringing the senses under control, we will come to have vibrant health; by bringing the mind under control, we will find a state of quiet joy; and by bringing the ego under control, we will develop more loving relationships with our family and friends. If, after having a glimpse of these rewards, we give up meditation for some reason, we will find there is nothing in the world to take its place. We can throw ourselves into feverish pleasure and excitement, into the driving pursuit of power, but there will always be a little voice inside us saying, “You’ve lost the path.”

This verse is very apposite today, especially with respect to the pressing problem of drug addiction. Thousands of young people are being misled by the assertion that psychedelic drugs can bring about spiritual awareness. Even well-known people have made statements about Indian sages using drugs; but I have no hesitation in saying that no sage worth his mantram has ever taken drugs for spiritual purposes. Meher Baba, a great modern mystic, warned us that not only do drugs not bring spiritual awareness, but when taken for a long time they may damage our capacity for spiritual awareness. If we look for a chemical shortcut through drugs, there is a possibility we will reach a point where we will be unable to meditate. Meditation is such a demanding expedition into the world within that we must have a strong, resilient body, a fit nervous system, a calm mind, and a lucid intellect, all of which are likely to be impaired not just by drugs, but by any form of excessive indulgence in the senses and in self-will.

ARJUNA: 38. If a man becomes deluded on the spiritual path will he lose the support of both worlds, like a cloud scattered in the sky?

39. O Krishna, you who are the dispeller of all doubts, remove this doubt which binds me.

Probably everyone has watched the wind break up a big billowy cloud into tiny pieces and scatter them all over the sky. Arjuna compares himself to such a cloud and asks Sri Krishna, “What will happen if some great calamity, some overwhelming desire, picks me up, cuts up my consciousness, and scatters my mind, my resolve, and my will in all directions, making my desire for the spiritual life disappear like a cloud? Will I have lost both the world of sense pleasure and the joy of the spiritual life?” This is a very practical question, which is likely to occur to all of us who have been used to indulging our senses and imposing our self-will on others. Having confessed his doubts, Arjuna here pleads with the Lord to give them a fatal blow. In samadhi, when the Lord of Love permeates our consciousness, all our doubts will cease, and there will come a tremendous inner certitude that will convey itself to everyone around us.

SRI KRISHNA: 40. Partha, my son, spiritual work will never be wasted, nor will one who does such work ever come to a bad end, either here or in the world to come.

Now we can almost see Sri Krishna coming closer to Arjuna, putting his arm about him, and saying, “Never will meditation on me be wasted, even if it has been done only for a short time. No step taken on the spiritual path is ever in vain.” According to the Hindu and Buddhist scriptures, no person is ever lost, for we are all children of the Lord. We can find the most secluded place to hide and delay our reunion all we want; but whether we like it or not, one day we are going to go home to the Lord.

A beautiful aspect of the Hindu mystical tradition is that the word damnation never occurs. All of us, even though we are tardy and playing truant, are still children of the Lord. A good way to strengthen ourselves and ward off negative states of feeling is to remember that in spite of our outward acts and appearances we are pure, perfect, and ever divine in origin.

Many years ago I went to a church service where the minister delivered a very strong sermon. The congregation seemed to enjoy it tremendously, and I realized how, in today’s world, we need someone who will occasionally shock us into the awareness that we are on the wrong path. Once in the pulpit this minister started hurling forked lightning in all directions; and when the climax of the sermon came, he started singling out members of the congregation whom he knew, telling them, “You’re a sinner.” I was cowering, hoping that he wouldn’t call on me, because in the Hindu way I had always been told, “You’re a saint.” When everyone is in a conspiracy to convince us, even when it seems unjustified, that we are a saint, one day we give in and actually become one. On the other hand, when our negative behavior is emphasized, when we are told we are sinners, we develop guilt feelings. So please tell your children that they are little saints, even when they seem not to warrant it. We can help adults in this same way too by always emphasizing their bright side. Everyone has a favorable side, and when we are patient and forbearing, people will rise to our expectations.

SRI KRISHNA: 41. When such people die, they go to other realms where the righteous live. They dwell there for countless years and then are reborn into a home which is pure and prosperous.

In this verse Sri Krishna tells us that if we give up meditation after some years because of overpowering sense-desires or self-will, he will carefully store our sadhana for us so we can pick it up later. The Lord is a good storekeeper, and he will keep our sadhana in a packet carefully put away on the shelf until we come and reclaim it the next time we enter the human context. When we return to the store and ask him, “Will you look for something I forgot last time? It’s a packet of six years’ meditation,” Sri Krishna will say, “I’ve kept it very carefully up on this shelf. It’s a pretty good packet; weighs a good bit, you know.”

As proof of this he tells us we will be born next time into a family with good parents, who will help us by their personal example to be patient and forgiving and to lead the spiritual life. This is perhaps why I had the great blessing to be born as the grandchild of my grandmother. If you ask my mother how she accounts for her boy, who led such an ordinary life, becoming aware of his real Father, she will say that I have been looking for Him for many centuries, practicing meditation and calling, “Where are you, Dad?” all the time, until one day He said, “Here I am, son.”

SRI KRISHNA: 42. Or they may be born into a family where meditation is practiced. To be born into such a family is extremely rare.

It is a sound law that whatever effort we put forward on the spiritual path is never wasted. In accordance with the theory of rebirth or reincarnation, Sri Krishna reassures us that if we find it too difficult to meditate and lead the spiritual life, then in our next life we may be born into a home where our parents meditate. There is no greater privilege than this, for it gives us an early start in our search for the Self.

According to the theory of reincarnation, we have chosen every one of our relationships carefully, especially our relationship with our parents. In Bardo, where according to the Tibetans we wait to come into this life, all of us have scorecards, and we tally up our samskaras to make sure we have a perfect match. Parents and children resemble each other in so many ways that it is unfair for us to criticize our mother or father, for we are so much like them. In Bardo nobody gets a lemon; there are good points about every parent and every child that we should always emphasize. Where the parents support meditation, it is especially fortunate; and where the family considers it a great boon for the son or daughter to be meditating, it is a blessing to the whole family. But even if our parents are not meditating with us, they will come to have a certain gratitude that their child is striving to lead a life that will benefit everyone around. Therefore it is good for all of us to begin or end our meditation with a prayer for the welfare of our parents and all the other members of our family.

SRI KRISHNA: 43. The wisdom they have acquired in previous lives will be reawakened, Arjuna, and they will strive even harder for Self-realization.

44. Indeed, they will be driven on by the strength of their past disciplines. Even one who inquires after the practice of meditation rises above those who simply perform rituals.

For twenty or twenty-five years we may have been studying at school, going surfing, and learning all kinds of skills, but never thinking about meditation or the spiritual life because the need for it seemed far away. Then one day we go to the Tilden Meditation Room at the University of California, where someone is talking about the Bhagavad Gita. Some words and phrases get into our consciousness, and we go home dazed. We think about what he said, we ponder over it, and finally a little window in our consciousness opens and we decide to give meditation a try.

There is a certain magnetism between us and the Lord which we have been unaware of all this time. Until we come of age we are like little magnets, trying by our own efforts to find fulfillment; but when we bring ourselves close to the Lord, his immense magnetism draws us on effortlessly.

According to the Gita, desire for the spiritual life is not a sudden development. It lies within us, just waiting for us to remember it. After meditating several years there is a sudden deepening in meditation, and we start regaining the memory of what we had already learned; our values become more selfless, more noble, and more spiritual. When this occurs, we are not adding anything new to our knowledge or wisdom; we are remembering what has been within us all the time. All of us who are meditating have had some previous spiritual experience; and in certain cases this experience is rather substantial, which explains some of the differences in progress in meditation. These dissimilarities need never dishearten us, because we all can pick up and go forward as rapidly as we want from wherever we stopped before.

When the power of our spiritual efforts in past lives begins to rise up in our consciousness, it is often felt as restlessness, a condition that is characteristic of many young people today. Restlessness is really a call to meditation; and once we have regained our previous knowledge, once we have recalled our previous sadhana, all our desires, all our motivation for the spiritual life will deepen tremendously. The first three or four years of meditation require a lot of strenuous, often painful effort, but once we have regained our knowledge, much of the pain and many of our doubts fall away. Then we want to strive even harder and give all we can to the spiritual life, which is a sign that we have regained our spiritual heritage. It is as if we were vina players who have not played for twenty-five years. When we pick up the vina, it feels so strange; our fingers do not know their way. But we go on practicing day after day, day after day, and suddenly our fingers remember their skill and the song comes out in all its sonorous glory: Hare Rama, Hare Rama, Rama Rama, Hare Hare; Hare Krishna, Hare Krishna, Krishna Krishna, Hare Hare.

SRI KRISHNA: 45. Through constant effort over many lifetimes a person becomes purified of all selfish desires and attains the supreme goal of life, union with the Lord.

One day Sri Ramana Maharshi was telling those around him that they had been together for many, many centuries, and Major Chadwick, a good British disciple, said, “I don’t believe it.” Sri Ramana Maharshi just smiled and told his disciple, “You have simply forgotten.” We, too, have forgotten our previous sadhana; but even if we try to lead a careless, sensate life, the power of our past efforts will turn all pleasure to ashes.

I have seen people plunging into the world of sense pleasure in the hopes that this would lead to joy, and I have seen these hopes turn into frustration and despair in a very short time. Sri Krishna says that these are people who are highly evolved but do not realize their true capacities, who are highly spiritual but like to think that they are very sensate. They go to every restaurant on Telegraph Avenue, but only find their palate clamoring to be controlled. Terribly bored, they ask if this is all there is to the pleasure of the senses. There are many such young people today who have forgotten their real spiritual stature, and it is a great pity that in spite of their boredom and frustration they should keep on trying to play the game of the senses, which I sometimes call the sad-go-round. Instead of criticizing such people, we should remind them of the joy which awaits them if they will only reclaim their spiritual heritage.

Sri Krishna tells us that when the power of our previous spiritual development forces us to turn to meditation as a last resort, even on these terms he will welcome us, saying: “This is one of my thousand names, the Last Resort. Far from holding it against you, I welcome you with open arms; for you have come in spite of yourself, driven by your true spiritual nature.”

In order to claim our past sadhana, in order to recall our old disciplines, the family context is just right for us. Instead of trying to embrace the whole world at the outset, we should learn to love our family and then gradually extend this love more and more. We are living in a world racked with violence and agitation, and in the early days of our sadhana it is difficult to go against our self-will, say no to our senses, and put the welfare of others first. Yet we have to learn not only to swim in this sea of strife but to contribute to its calmness and peace. So Sri Krishna tells us to jump in and he will teach us to swim; and when we jump we find ourselves safe in his arms.

Yesterday at the swimming pool I played the role of instructor. Geetha, who had missed a number of swimming lessons because of a cold, made me promise to give her special instructions. First I had to get her to jump into the water, which naturally frightened her. She loves me very much, so I had only to tell her to jump into my arms and she jumped. Then, holding on to me tightly, she kicked her way across the pool. I told her that next time she should hold on to me with only one hand; then the third time, she should use both her arms and feet to swim. In this way she would soon discover she could swim, and I would be by her side all the time. Similarly, when we become completely self-reliant and depend on the Lord of Love within in order to live for those around us, we will find he is there all the time. Even if we try, we cannot be drowned.

Around the pool there were swimming instructors walking about with long poles to rescue anyone in trouble. To me, living today is like being in a swimming pool without knowing how to swim. When we hate those who hate us, when we burst out in anger against those who are angry against us, it is because we do not know how to swim. But when we try to swim – returning love for hatred and compassion for anger – even if we sink a little and gasp for air, Sri Ramana Maharshi, Sri Ramakrishna, St. Francis, and many others are there holding out a long pole to rescue us. There is no need to be afraid, for there is always some illumined person to rescue us from the sea of life called samsara.

SRI KRISHNA: 46. Meditation is superior to severe asceticism and the path of knowledge. It is also superior to selfless service. May you attain the goal of meditation, Arjuna!

Here Sri Krishna tells Arjuna that the person who meditates is superior even to those who follow ascetic disciplines. The Buddha, who once underwent such disciplines, reminds us that by starving the body or breaking the senses we cannot attain illumination, but by treating the body with wisdom, by giving it what it needs and gently denying it what it does not need, we turn the body into a true servant.

Sri Krishna also says the person who meditates is superior to those who follow the path of knowledge. Knowledge is looked upon here as a steep slope up which ordinary people like us cannot climb, but meditation enables us to acquire wisdom gradually and become wise by developing a higher mode of knowing.

Finally, the Lord tells us that the person who meditates is superior to those who are devoted to selfless action, for without meditation, self-will can enter into the most loving relationships and distort the most selfless efforts. The verse ends with the Lord’s blessing, given out of such love and compassion that it should be dear to everyone who seeks the Self: “May you attain the goal of meditation.” So may we all attain the goal.

SRI KRISHNA: 47. Even among those who meditate, that man or woman is dearest to me who has become completely absorbed in me, and worships me with perfect faith.

Even among meditators, Sri Krishna has a special favorite whom he loves to support, whom he wants united with him. This is the one who meditates on the Lord with a one-pointed mind, who does everything in life for the Lord’s sake. Such people will ask themselves: “If I eat this, will it strengthen my body so that I can serve the Lord? If I act this way, will it strengthen my mind and my will so that I can serve the Lord?” Sri Krishna is deeply in love with such a man or woman, whose consciousness is permeated with the presence of the Lord.

Every one of us can become Sri Krishna’s favorite through sustained, systematic, enthusiastic practice of meditation. In this sixth chapter, “The Practice of Meditation,” the Lord has told us that without meditation it is not possible to acquire spiritual wisdom, to act selflessly, or to bring about the much-needed transformation of our character, conduct, and consciousness. When we take to meditation and persevere, no matter what the obstacles, we will find the Lord’s grace coming to us in many ways; we will be blessed with vibrant health, with increasing security, and with the ability to harness our creative resources to solve even the most difficult problems. By seeking the Self through meditation, we will come to live in awareness of the unity of life expressed in everyone, everywhere, every minute.