From Surging Joy
By Dr Sarada Nataragan
The mind, or the root of the mind, the "I"-thought, is as adaptable, as malleable to protect its own existence as any specimen of the physical universe. One could even say that the mind is more flexible. The chameleon only changes color, a horse its coat of hair, but the mind is capable, in time of need, to change its entire identity, name, form and all. The mind has the great advantage over the natural world of having no fixed shape to call its own, thus, it can take on any shape. There is no limit to its techniques of camouflage, no ceiling on its defence equipment...
The "I"-thought hides itself in numerous guises. It may appear as the subtle ego of achievement, the satisfaction of self-control, the ego of intellect, the pride of devotion, the complacency at progress, even the pride of humility. The ego is adept at assuming the form of every activity and every non-activity. When "active" it attaches itself to the spirit of activity, it revels in being quick, efficient. The danger is greater, not less, when the activity is rendered as service to the Lord, for, then the ego could take the subtle aspect of being His servant, there could even arise an ego of selflessness. If there is non-activity, the ego wallows in its sense of detachment, in its ability to stay without activity.
..there is one weapon the ego dreads...the weapon of self-enquiry. And, surely though perhaps gradually, it retracts, retreats inward towards its source. It does not suffice, therefore, to use this weapon of self-enquiry once in a blue moon. At every turn the ego must be pursued with self-enquiry, relentlessly. Its every posture, every mask, must be stripped off by constantly questioning it. Who is it that is serving? Who is it that is active? Who humble? Who detached? Who efficient? Who creative? Who is this I? For every identity that the "I"-thought assumes it must be countered with the attack, "Is not this also an identity? Then who is the "I" at the root of this identity? Who am I?" Attention must be constantly focused on the root of the "I"-thought, attempt ever be made to isolate it and turn it back to its source. All its disguises must be unearthed, ferreted out, smoked out as bees from a hive until it remains absolutely alone, and unable to withstand the scrutiny, falls headlong back into its source, the Self.
Saturday, July 29, 2006
Catching the Chameleon
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
Related to the excerpt just posted there is a saying:
"A saint is a saint until he knows he is one"
I was given an administrative duty, something no-one would desire to do, but doing the duty faithfully some things began to be understood about action without "anything in it for me". It was purifying. It was also of the nature of sacrifice, so something was practically understood about this too. All this is valid, except almost simultaneous to the understanding was the realisation that this had already been 'hijacked' by the ahankara to start creating a new identity. An identity based upon notions of selfless action and sacrifice. Like the excerpt just posted, the subtlety of the ahankara is astounding. It leaps in and claims anything and everything.
Challenging this doesn't often appear to be welcome? Is it because we should encourage people in virtuous action rather than dissuade them? Hoping that the 'selfless' action will lead to freedom? There's a problem here. What if it's no longer selfless? What if the ahankara has crept in in the way described? Continuance of this will not benefit anyone. Like the excerpt says, we need constant self-enquiry. "Who is it that is feeling pride at his sacrifice?", "Who is it that now considers himself purer because of performing 'selfless' action?".
Sometimes I find the fact that we study these things in such detail to be rather perverse. You can observe countless small actions by ordinary people in their daily lives which are selfless. Sure there's lots of 'me' going on as well but selfless in the sense of "giving without mindfulness of virtue" (Gibran). Simply giving for the joy of giving, or helping naturally without thinking "I am practising something spiritual" (this is a great one to mark yourself off as different and/or special compared to the rest of humanity). The fact that we study these things to death just seems to make us more mindful of virtue, not less. It could be asked how often the approach in study and practice may be reinforcing rather than removing ahankara?
To speak from another specific experience: Where I live the streets are quite narrow and it's close to the centre of town. Many people use my road and the one adjacent as a 'rat run'. This is a source frequent irritation. A few days ago I had meditated in the morning and the mind was in a more peaceful state than usual. Driving off towards work, I stopped to let three oncoming cars past doing the 'rat run' thing. There wasn't a flicker in mind, not even the thought of 'rat run'. The habitual thought was, for the moment, gone.
Now could the above be achieved by 'practising patience'? Let's just look at this. I experience impatience which is agitation in the mind. "I need to get somewhere and you're preventing me", "you are being inconsiderate in using my road as a rat-run" etc. On top of this agitation I add the notion of "practising patience". And if I practice patience enough I will eventually achieve a state where I am completely patient. And no doubt on route I will be able to say, "I have progressed further in patience than you have". Yet more activity, yet more claims. Ahankara wins all. It's crazy. The true patience is a quality and by-product of being still as was experienced, therefore it is only necessary to practise being still.
Why can we not just return to the simplicity of being still and watching how ahankara keeps creating new places to hide? I'm beginning to find other practises more of a burden than a blessing as it's obvious ahankara can assume the shape of any of them.
This seems so right. It's a never-ending game with ahankara. The quote you gave - and your comment - have lightened the burden. Thanks.
The example is really illuminating ... more so than the quotation, if I may say so. The quote is all right, but it seems to advocate another practice - ferreting out the 'i' thought - and I don't find that productive.
What's different about what you say is perhaps that the practice of meditation brought you to a place of stillness where there was a cessation of habitual activity - it gave the space in which it was recognised that there is really no need for that activity. What you didn't do was to go looking for ahankaric activity.
Maybe there's another way to look at the quotation ... and it was obviously the springboard ... but on the face of it I much prefer your course of medicine than the one proposed by Dr Surging Joy.
A comment by Gitalover recently quoted Ramana Maharshi: "when one has truly accepted that the Self is present only when the mind is quiet, then what is the need of book learning?"
This phrase "the mind is quiet" ... I don't want to disagree with RM, but in the School I am 100% sure we hear those words differently than he spoke them.
In the Indian tradition, mind and heart are part of a single entity; but for us, "mind" and "heart" are divided from each other as "reason" and "feeling".
His Holiness said that "stillness of the body, and stillness of the mind, are only relative states. The real stillness is that of the heart".
Stilling the mind, to a Western mind, is about competitiveness, aspiration, sharpness etc ... but stilling the heart is totally different. Kapila is describing the latter.
I shall refrain from 'defending' Dr Surging Joy. :) < see the Buddhas enigmatic smile?
Actually, having given up the defence, one should still act. I accept the excerpt can be read as meaning a thinking process, a literal questioning "what am I identified with right now", which would clearly be counterproductive. But I don't think that's what it's actually saying. It's saying "Simply observe these identities being assumed and drop them".
Post a Comment