End Of Knowledge

Tag: spirituality

  • Total Bliss

    THE QUESTIONS

    1. My understanding is that, after my body dies, I will remain pure consciousness. As my brain stops functioning, I lose my identity as a person immediately. No brain, no nerve activity, no mind, no intellect, no memories no thoughts, no life. In this state of being, am I (as pure consciousness) experiencing something at all? If so, what?

    2. As I understand it, ‘Total bliss’ is a human definition for some kind of long term ‘elevated’ feeling. Therefore, the feeling of Total Bliss at the level of the mind/ego. If this is the case, how can I (pure consciousness) feel Total Bliss without a body?

    THE ANSWERS

    Yes, when the body dies, you remain pure consciousness. 

    The scriptures say that, in the case of those who haven’t gained self-knowledge, the mind continues after death.  Really though, there’s no way to prove that one way or another so I honestly don’t know what happens to the mind after death.  What I do know is that whether the mind is there or not, you’re there as pure consciousness. 

    You, pure consciousness, never experience anything.  You only reveal the experience of the mind. So after death, if there’s still a mind present that’s having an experience, you’ll be there revealing it.  But you yourself, pure consciousness, won’t be experiencing anything. 

    You’re totally right, bliss is a feeling that occurs purely at the level of the mind.  As pure consciousness you don’t feel bliss, with or without a body/mind/ego.  You only reveal the experience of bliss in the body/mind/ego.  But you’re never affected or touched by it. 

    All my best, Vishnudeva 

    Questions?  Contact me HERE.   

     

  • Erroneous Goals

    J:  I was thinking about the goal of Vedanta and how the desire for moksha appears erroneous since the fervent desire for freedom can become binding. The goal of knowledge appears to be the way since once we have assimilated knowledge we know we are free, because we have never been not free. This desire for knowledge seem better than some desire to be free.

    V:  Hi J.  Here’s the short answer: 

    I understand what you’re saying and in essence you’re correct insofar as there’s no need to desire freedom when you already are, and always have been, free.  So if it’s helpful for you to think of the goal of Vedanta as knowledge rather than freedom, go for it.  I don’t see any harm in that.  If that’s a sufficient answer for you, then read no further. 

    But just in case…here’s my picky, possibly pedantic answer:         

    Really, you can’t separate moksha and knowledge—specifically, self-knowledge—because in Vedanta the two words are synonymous.  While moksha does technically mean “freedom,” that freedom isn’t something different from self-knowledge because self-knowledge is the clear understanding, “I am free.”  Like you said, it’s true that it doesn’t make sense to have freedom be your goal when you’re already free, but that only applies after you get the knowledge that you’re already free.  Before that, freedom is a perfectly sensible goal, assuming it’s sensible to you.  If not, call the goal knowledge.  It doesn’t really matter. 

    To be a real stickler—as crotchety Vedantins are prone to do—following your logic regarding freedom as a goal, I could argue that the goal of knowledge is also erroneous because at the dawn of self-knowledge you see that you weren’t ignorant in the first place.  Nor have you attained knowledge because knowing and knowledge are seen to be properties of the mind alone.  And as the non-dual, ever-free brahman you are not the knowing mind.  To illustrate, here is a verse from the Astavakra Samhita, one that I’ve been looking for an excuse to quote.  So thank you for that.    

    2-15:  Knowledge, knower and the knowable—these three do not actually exist.  They merely appear in me, the stainless self, through ignorance.  

    Also, I could say that the desire for freedom can be just as binding as the desire for knowledge.  But to repeat, whether you want to make moksha your goal or knowledge your goal, either way is fine.  You’ll end up at the same destination regardless.  I only added the second answer in case my first answer happened to cause another doubt.  And if I didn’t this would’ve been a really short satsang 🙂  Thanks for bearing with me.      

    J: Loved the explanation you gave directly above (the crotchety Vedantic one).  

    This whole process reminds me of an expedition into the wilderness.  First there is the journey by air to your first destination, then the over land journey in a convoy of 4×4’s.  Then transfer to river boats, before the final leg on foot.  On reaching the destination there is just the Self.

    V:  I think that’s a good metaphor.  The different modes of transportation (plane, automobile, boat) are a necessary means to get to where you’re going, but once you’re there, they become irrelevant.  Similarly, the teaching method of Vedanta is a means to understand what you really are.  Once that’s known, the teaching itself, and whatever terminology or concepts it uses (like freedom, knowledge, etc.) become irrelevant.  They’re just tools–or more specifically, pointers–and once the job is ‘done’ there is no need for them anymore.  But as I said, we can only argue that they are unnecessary after they actually become unnecessary. Before that, they do have relative value, same as a car has relative value before you get to where you’re going. 

    All my best – Vishnudeva

    QUESTIONS? Contact me HERE. 

     

  • The Process of Inquiry

    If you have questions about this satsang, contact me HERE. 

    THE QUESTION

    Can you please explain the process of self-inquiry?  I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. 

    THE ANSWER

    The process of self-inquiry was first enumerated by Yajnavalkya to his wife Maitreyi in the Brihadaranyaka Upanisad:

    The self, my dear Maitreyi should be realized—should be heard of, reflected on and meditated upon.  By the realization of the self, my dear, through hearing, reflection and meditation, all this is known.     BU II.iv.5 

     Later in the text, he repeats himself in a nearly identical verse:

    The self, my dear Maitreyi should be realized—should be heard of, reflected on and meditated upon.  When the self, my dear, is realized by being heard of, reflected on and meditated upon, all this is known.     BU IV.v.6

     While Yajnavalkya makes it clear that steps of self-inquiry are hearing, reflecting and meditating, he doesn’t explain them.  For further details, let’s look at Shankara’s commentary on the previous verse, BU IV.v.6:

    How is the self realized?  By being first heard of from the teacher and the scriptures, then reflected on, discussed through argument or reasoning—the hearing is from the scriptures (and the teachers) alone, the reflection through reasoning—and lastly meditated upon (lit. known), ascertained to be such and such and not otherwise.  What happens then?  All this (the mind, body and universe) is known to be nothing other than the self. 

    Step One:  Listen to the scriptures being taught by a capable teacher.  The teacher is a must because there’s an underlying methodology to the scriptures that’s not obvious unless it’s pointed out to you.  Without understanding the methodology, the scriptures appear to be contradictory or even nonsensical.  If you don’t believe me, just pick up a copy of the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad and start reading. 

    However, once you’ve been taught by a good teacher how to interpret the scriptures, you can then study them yourself.  The cool thing is that if your mind is properly prepared to understand what’s being taught, having the scriptures explained to you by a teacher is completely sufficient for removing ignorance regarding the true nature of your self.  If that happens, no independent study of the scriptures is required.  Granted, that’s the best case scenario, which is why the second step, reflecting on the teaching through reasoning, is often necessary.  But before moving on to the topic of reflection, let’s talk about the different ways to listen to the teaching.  It is, after all, the primary step.

    The most obvious way to listen is to attend a class.  This option can be inspiring owing to the example of the teacher—assuming they live according to the teaching—and the company of other dedicated inquirers.  But to be clear, actually seeing the teacher or having fellowship with other students is by no means a mandatory prerequisite for self-knowledge, which is good because the live teaching of Vedanta isn’t widely available (at least outside of India).  Luckily, many teachers record their lectures and make them available to the public.  These lectures are easy to find online and the recordings are just as effective as being taught in person (having studied Vedanta both ways, I can attest to that).  Most of the time I actually prefer listening to a recording because I can rewind the parts I want to hear again and take notes.  Also, I’m able to more effectively control my surrounding environment, thereby reducing potential distractions.  However, if you’d still like to hear Vedanta live but you either can’t, or don’t want to physically attend the class, teachers such as Swamini Svatmavidyananda broadcast their teachings live on the internet.  As an added bonus, video recordings of the lectures are then made available afterwards for you to review.  It’s the best of both worlds (a link to Swamini Svatmavidyananda’s site is on the Links page).  

    Despite the fact that the traditional way of listening to Vedanta is to literally hear a teacher giving a discourse, you can also expose yourself to the teaching through reading.  As I said, don’t simply go out and start reading the scriptures.  This won’t work.  Instead, find a book that is either an overview of Vedanta based on scripture, or find a translation of a scripture that includes a teacher’s commentary.  Good examples of Vedanta overviews based on scripture are Swami Dayananda’s Introduction to Vedanta or Ted Schmidt’s Self-Knowledge.  If you want a text that is both a scripture and a summary of Vedanta, Swami Dayananda’s Tattva Bodha is an excellent choice.  Here would be a great place to recommend my own Tattva Bodha commentary, but I’m currently in the process of revising it. 

    Step Two:  Reflect on what you learned from the teacher and resolve your doubts through reasoning.  As I said above, the ideal situation is that you hear the teaching, understand it, and no further work is needed.  But usually doubts remain and reflection and reasoning are required to resolve them.  This can be done independently or if you need help, by asking the teacher or even one of your fellow inquirers.  Or doubts may simply be removed through further listening.    

    Step Three:  The first two steps, listening and reflection, together form the means to gain self-knowledge—or more accurately, remove self-ignorance—and nothing else is required.  This begs the question that, if listening and reflection accomplish the primary goal of self-knowledge, what’s the purpose of the third step, meditation?

    Here, it’s important to know that the word commonly translated as meditation in this text is nididhyasana in the original Sanskrit and nididhyasana is not necessarily a synonym to the meditation described in the Yoga Sutras (dhyana) or the meditation on the deities from other portions of the Vedic scriptures (upasana).  Similar to dhyana and upasana, nididhyasana is a form of concentration and contemplation.  However, unlike dhyana and upasana, whose respective aims are to stop the mind and contemplate deities, the goal of nididhyasana is to counteract emotionally disturbing thought patterns by assimilating the self-knowledge previously gained from listening to, and reflecting on, the scriptures.  This process of assimilation continues until it fully transforms the way you think about yourself, meaning until your thinking becomes completely harmonized with the implications of self-knowledge.    

    Why is assimilation required to change your thinking if you already have self-knowledge?  Shouldn’t your thinking change automatically? No, because the mind is a creature of habit.  After a lifetime of thinking erroneous self-limiting thoughts, it takes a while for the mind to change its ways, even when it clearly understands that it is none other than the limitless self.  Here’s an illustration.  There is a homely adolescent girl, overweight, who wears awkward, thick glasses.  She is constantly teased and develops a negative, emotionally disturbing self-image, thinking herself to be inferior and unworthy.  However, as she grows up, she loses the weight and glasses and develops into a beautiful woman.  Despite the obvious fact that she is physically attractive and in the face of advances from potential suitors, owing to mental habits developed from childhood, she continues to view herself as undesirable and suffers needlessly. In other words, the knowledge of who she is—even though it is clear to see—and how she thinks about herself are not yet in alignment.  Only over time, through combatting negative untrue thoughts with positive true thoughts about who she really is, does she develop a healthy self-image.  (I’m not trying to say that being physically attractive is necessary for good self-esteem or that it determines someone’s worth.  This is just a metaphor). Similarly, once it is totally clear that you are the self and that by extension, you are full, complete and always okay, it takes time and continued application of self-knowledge for the mind to accept that this is true and to develop new and healthy thought patterns in alignment with this truth.  

    The scriptures such as the Bhagavad Gita say that a healthy and balanced mental state is the mark of a truly enlightened person.  However, is mental stability the actual goal of Vedanta?  No, self-knowledge is the goal, and self-knowledge clearly shows that you are not your mind and that the mind never affects you.  This is true liberation because the mind can never be perfectly and perpetually balanced.  Regardless of that fact, self-knowledge only applies in the realm of our everyday transactional world.  So even if you know you aren’t the mind, the mind continues to exist.  Therefore, if self-knowledge merely shows you that you are not your mind, but your mind continues to be plagued by fear, anger, sadness and attachment, self-knowledge has little value.  What good is self-knowledge if you—at least the apparent you—continue being miserable? If could be argued that it doesn’t matter because you aren’t the apparent you, but as I said, self-knowledge only applies to the apparent you so it might as well help the apparent you be happier.  Otherwise, what is the point?     

    SUMMARY:  The two steps required for self-knowledge are listening (in whatever form you choose) to a teacher explain the scriptures and then reflecting on what you’ve heard until it’s absolutely clear and doubt-free.  Then, to change the way you think about yourself and to get rid of negative emotions caused by your previous self-ignorance, you meditate on the self-knowledge you’ve gained from listening and reflection until it is fully assimilated into your everyday thought-process.  Technically, since the first two steps give you self-knowledge, and self-knowledge shows you that you aren’t your mind, the third step of assimilation is optional, assuming you like how it feels when your mind is angry, fearful etc. 

    That’s the process of self-inquiry.  Now hop to it!  And let me know if you need any further assistance.       

    All my best – Vishnudeva

    QUESTIONS? Contact me.

  • Vedanta, Buddhism, Criticism

    THE QUESTION

    M: I’m studying Vedanta and I’m also a practicing Buddhist.  I feel like the Buddhist teaching of compassion really helps me.  Is this a problem?  The reason I ask is because Vedantins are usually very critical of Buddhism.  It seems to me that the Buddhist teaching is the same as Vedanta.

    THE ANSWER

    M:  I’m studying Vedanta and I’m also a practicing Buddhist.  I feel like the Buddhist teaching of compassion really helps me.  Is this a problem?

    V:  The shortest answer is: it’s only a problem if it’s a problem.  If it helps you to practice Buddhism along with your Vedantic studies, then go for it.  If, over time, you feel like the two start to conflict then re-examine the situation.  If not, then don’t worry about it.  As my friend Paul says (incessantly), “It’s about peace of mind”.  In other words, if there’s no problem, there’s no need to create one.

    You can honestly leave it at that.  I’m going to add some further remarks just because it’s a topic that interests me.

    M: The reason I ask is because Vedantins are usually very critical of Buddhism.  

    V:  Yeah, that’s true.  There’s a strong current of criticism directed at Buddhism by the teachers and commentators of Vedanta.  This is evident in the writings of Shankara, Vedanta’s most revered teacher.  Maybe that’s why (some) modern teachers of Vedanta do the same thing.  Monkey see, monkey do, as the saying goes.

    In fairness, in Shankara’s time and well beyond, it was the norm for different Indian religious and philosophical traditions to be critical of each other.  The antagonism between Vedanta and Buddhism was actually mutual, with teachers from both sides writing criticisms and counter-criticisms against each other for centuries.  So criticism isn’t limited to Vedanta alone.

    Criticism in and of itself isn’t necessarily wrong if it’s done with the genuine intention of helping a student.  Say there’s a spiritual seeker looking for answers.  She hears one thing from Teacher A and another thing from Teacher B that contradict each other.  A doubt arises.  To resolve the doubt both viewpoints need to be evaluated. On the one hand, the teachers can offer positive support for their own viewpoint.  On the other, they may also need to point out the flaws of the opposing viewpoint.  In this case criticism can be a helpful teaching tool.

    But I suspect that a lot of the time, criticism aimed at other viewpoints is simply done for the very base reason of establishing the superiority of one’s own viewpoint, school, tradition or position.  In that case it’s worthless and petty.  If a teacher offers a criticism of an opposing viewpoint in order to help a student, then good.  If a teacher goes out of their way to attack an opposing viewpoint for any other reason, not so good.

    M:  It seems to me that the Buddhist teaching is the same as Vedanta. 

    V:  The only way someone could verify that statement is if they studied both Vedanta and Buddhism deeply, practiced them both diligently for a very long time and then realized the respective truths of each teaching for themselves.  Only in that case could it be determined if Vedanta and Buddhism are the same. To my knowledge, no one has ever done that.

    This exposes the inherent problem of criticism.  How can someone accurately criticize a teaching if they don’t truly understand it?  At best they’re merely criticizing their own understanding of that teaching.  If their understanding of that teaching is limited, or outright incorrect, then their criticism with have the same defects.  I can attest to that fact by saying that many of the criticisms aimed at Vedanta are invalid simply because they are based on the critic’s inaccurate understanding of Vedanta.  In other words, most critics are criticizing what they think Vedanta says rather than what it actually says.  If I’m being objective, then I have to admit that this can go the other way too.  Perhaps Vedanta’s criticisms of Buddhism are based on what Vedantins think Buddhism says, rather than what it actually says.

    Chandradhar Sharma, in his book “Indian Philosophy:  A Critical Survey” points this out beautifully.  Sharma, whose personal viewpoint is obviously a Vedantic one, remains sympathetic to Buddhism.  He makes a very good case for the fact that Shankara didn’t fully understand Buddhism or that he misunderstood parts of it entirely.  Therefore, because Shankara’s understanding was incomplete or inaccurate, by extension some of his criticisms were incomplete or inaccurate.  I have a lot of respect for Shankara and it’s obvious in the book that Sharma does too.  But I find Sharma’s viewpoint to be completely reasonable and feasible.

    Where does that leave us on the topic of criticism?  As I said, I think criticism has value in the case of removing a student’s doubt because in that situation the doubt is the student’s own subjective understanding.  It doesn’t necessarily correspond to an objective teaching outside of the student, so the doubt can be legitimately criticized.  The teaching that the doubt supposedly comes from can be left aside and the student’s problem can be dealt with directly, using whatever reasoning or logic a particular teacher employs.  Anything beyond that is useless because in the end it doesn’t matter if Vedanta is right and Buddhism is wrong or vice versa.  It isn’t anyone’s job to establish the superiority of one over the other.  The point is to remove suffering and gain peace of mind.  If a particular teaching does that for you, then how could anyone criticize that?  Why would anyone criticize that?  Unless of course it’s their business to rob people of peace of mind.

    To put it in the vernacular, “Just do you, forget about the haters.”

    P.S. – Full disclosure, when I was younger this was not my viewpoint.  Growing up Christian, I thought that Christianity was right and everything else was wrong.  I later carried that attitude forward into Vedanta.  But pain is a great teacher and even someone like me can eventually mature and learn.  I finally saw that my attitude was causing conflict and this conflict hurt me and others as well.  It robbed me and them of peace of mind which was completely counter to the purpose of Vedanta.  So I gave that immature, unhelpful attitude up.  Or at least I’m trying reeeealllly hard to 🙂

    P.P.S – Be wary when someone starts a criticism of other viewpoints with this very common statement:  “Well, I’m no expert on (fill in the blank).  But this is what (fill in the blank) is saying and why it’s wrong.”  If someone isn’t an expert on a particular subject—and in the case of spirituality, a longtime practitioner—then they have no business criticizing it.

    P.P.P.S. – If the “Vedanta Police” come knocking, looking to pick a fight about my slightly unorthodox view, know that I will not answer the door.  Don’t waste your breath.  This is my opinion, take it or leave it.

    -Vishnudeva

    HAVE QUESTIONS? Contact me HERE.

     

     

     

  • Marriage & Moksha

    K:  I have a partner, and want to marry. Does it mean I have to give up moksha?

    V:  No.  There is absolutely no rule that says one must remain unmarried or even avoid relationships to get moksha (freedom from suffering).

    To elaborate, in Vedanta, any idea of moksha comes from the scriptures, namely the Upanisads.  Is there any injunction against marriage in the Upanisads?  No. Take for instance the Mundaka Upanisad, where Shaunaka approaches the teacher Angiras seeking self-knowledge.  Shaunaka is described as “a great householder” which means he was a married man, presumably with a family.  Does Angiras turn Shaunaka away for being a married man, deeming him unfit to seek self-knowledge (moksha)?  No.  Angiras is looking for other qualifications besides marital status, specifically mental qualifications.  Because Shaunaka is “a great householder” is implies that he has lived a good and pious life, thereby preparing his mind for self-knowledge.  Therefore it could be said that something like marriage can even be helpful towards the pursuit of moksha.  Married and family life is rewarding but challenging and therefore it is an ideal place for spiritual growth, a key ingredient in the pursuit of moksha. 

    Another scriptural example is the Bhagavad Gita, probably the most popular text in the Vedanta canon.  Both the teacher, Krishna, and the student, Arjuna are married men.  In fact, Arjuna had four wives.  And get this…Krishna had over 16,000!  While that is most certainly hyperbole the point remains that Krishna was not single.  If marriage were an impediment to moksha then certainly as a teacher, he would not have been married.  And he would have undoubtedly told his student that marriage is an impediment on the path to moksha. But Krishna doesn’t do that.  He simply tells Arjuna to go about his daily life with the proper attitude, the karma yoga attitude, in order grow spiritually.

    However, Krishna does not present marriage or spiritual growth as an end unto itself. It is a means to prepare one for self-knowledge.  And an essential part of that preparation is clearly understanding that things like marriage will never give lasting happiness.  For that matter, neither will money, fame, achievement, family or religion.  That fact doesn’t make those things wrong and doesn’t mean they need to be avoided.  But they MUST be understood for what they are:  limited means of gaining temporary happiness.  Only then will one be able to look past them to the source of a lasting satisfaction:  knowledge of one’s own true nature.

    So be married if you wish and enjoy it.  It is only an impediment to moksha if you don’t understand that things like marriage won’t give you moksha.    

    -Vishnudeva

    HAVE A QUESTION? Contact me HERE.