RG Firmly established in the Self, undisturbed by the least ripple of thought, as still as an idol of stone or wood, dissolved completely in Brahman-Self, even as water is in milk, with awareness devoid of all impurities of thought and drowsiness, standing clear as the pure sky, the grandeur of the Jnani’s nishta (firm stance in the Self) defies thought and expression. (Ch.19, v.21)
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SWVVKA
Birth, life, and death are but old superstitions. None was ever born, none will ever die; one changes one’s position – that is all. Try to think of yourself as dead, and you will see that you are present to see your own dead body. The whole universe, therefore, is a unit, from whatever standpoint you view it. Just now, to us, this universe is a unit of Prana and Akasha, force and matter.
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PRAKASHA VIMARSHA
THOUGHTS- VIKALPA
VISUDDHA VIKALPA- I M SHIVA
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B Compassion in the Face of Impermanence
Change is the very nature of life. Whenever things begin to feel stable or solid in our lives, we can be sure that the winds of change will blow again, leading us back into the unknown.
The Buddha taught that the fleeting nature of our experience, when embraced, can become the doorway to an awakened heart.
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One night, long, long ago, I sat in a meditation hall. It was the last meditation period of the day, the hall was dark, only one candle burned at the altar. I sat in darkness and the darkness expanded, it expanded into a limitless, boundless, seamless space. I’ve experienced that space before, the place where all forms vanish and there is only presence, only being, but this time there was a form there: a little flea.
In this formless, limitless, boundless space I saw a little flea. The flea was hopping up and down in great agitation. Looking closer, I realized that the flea wasn’t just hopping, it was pulling, it was tugging and yanking at the space, trying to tear a bit of it out of the seamless whole. As I looked, I realized that the flea was my mind. I realized that I am seeing my mind trying to tear a bit of reality so that it could have it for it’s own, so that it would be separate, distinct, clearly defined. But it couldn’t do it.
No matter how frantically, how desperately the little flea-mind tried to to tear a bit of reality for itself, no matter how much it tried to separate a bit of that space from the rest of it, it couldn’t do it. Reality would not tear, the space would not separate into pieces. It remained seamless, boundless, endless.
The mind wants to be distinct, it wants to be it’s own, separate entity. It wants to be it’s own person. It wants it’s own body, clearly defined, clearly delineated. It wants it’s own bit of awareness, clearly defined, clearly delineated. But it can’t have it. The mind can’t have it’s own, separate being, because reality will not be torn into bits and pieces. Awareness can’t be separated into individual chunks, so that every mind can have their own. Consciousness can’t be divided among humans, so that each can have their own, separate, distinct soul.
I saw my mind trying to do it, trying to get it, and it couldn’t. It wouldn’t work. Reality would not tear.
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