Author: kirtisaran

“The impermanent has no reality; reality lies in the eternal. Those who have seen the boundary between these two have attained the end of all knowledge. Realize that which pervades the universe and is indestructible; no power can affect this unchanging, imperishable reality. The body is mortal, but he who dwells in the body is immortal and immeasurable.”
-The Bhagavad Gita II.16-18

Why is the relationship between a father and a daughter so special? A father is the only one who sees his daughter as an individual – not as a wife or a mother. After all he is the one who brought her up and is aware of all of her dreams, aspirations and belief system. There are many women who have never had fathers or who lost them when they were very young, the bond is so deep, they also grieve the loss of a paternal figure. I have had my share of paternal love and I have had plenty of it, for which I am eternally grateful.

It has been almost thirteen years since my father passed away and I can honestly say that I have forgotten what it felt like to have that caring person. Losing a parent is a rite of passage. There is a certain wisdom in the eyes of those who have lost a parent. The truth about death has already been unraveled to them. Death is not sorrow or grief, death is final. It is that final goodbye of the physical presence of that being. Of course, the relationship lives on – it is a soul to soul connection, a feeling of having a guardian angel. Prayers become personal when your own parent is in heaven. To grieve the passing of a loved one is not a sign of weakness, but rather an expression of the deep love that exists. Those who have yet to lose parents, visualize death as a missing of that person, like a child misses a blanket. This is far from the truth. It is the transformation of the self and the relationship. Basically, it is the entering of a different phase of your life, without that umbrella of protection. All decisions become your own, which transforms the functioning of the mind and so the cycle of life goes on.

Congratulations to all fathers, who have molded their daughters’ lives, and given them the self-esteem to stand on their own. Congratulations to my own father who left me almost a decade and a half ago, but whose lessons I still remember and cherish. Thank-you for being there for me every time I ardently prayed for my children. They are alive, well and strong because of you and I know that for a fact.

“The Self cannot be pierced by weapons or burned by fire; water cannot wet it; nor can the wind dry it. The Self cannot be pierced or burned, made wet or dry. It is everlasting and infinite, standing on the motionless foundation of eternity. The Self is unmanifested beyond all thought, beyond all change.”
The Bhagavad Gita II.23-25

If the soul lives on, soul to soul connections still exist, and relationships cannot die. I still feel your presence, and I know that you are there. Thank-you for the unique life that you gave me… You are omnipresent… You live in my heart… and I will always… always love you.

Kirti Saran (June the 21st, 2020)

How many of us have heard the expression, “Take yoga off of your mat and into your life.” What is implied by this expression and how do you apply age-old principles from the Yoga Sutras to the modern-day world? Let’s take a look at Yoga Sutra 1.14,

“Sa Tu Dirgha Kala Nairantarya Satkarasevito Drdhabhumih”

Sa = this, tu = and, dirgha = long, kala = time, nairantarya = without break, satkara = earnestness, asevitah = well attended to, dridhabhumih = firm ground

“It is only when the correct practice is followed for a long time; without interruptions and with a quality of positive attitude and eagerness that it can succeed.”

The first requirement for success is that the practice should be done for a long time. The second requirement is that it must be done continuously. Once a student asked Swami Satchidananda, “I’ve been practicing yoga for the past ten years, but I’m still the same. “How often?” asked the Swami. “Oh, off and on” replied the student. So, continuity is the next step towards success. Finally, the last requirement is “with a quality of positive attitude and eagerness”. This means with full attention, with the entire application of your mind and with full faith in your achievement.

Now let’s take a look at these principles and apply them to Malcolm Gladwell’s ten-thousand hour rule from his book, “Outliers : The Story of Success”. First of all, what is an outlier? An outlier is something/someone that is situated away from or classed differently from a main or related body. It is also a statistical observation that is marked different in value from the others of the sample. For example, Mozart, The Beatles and Bill Gates are outliers. What do these three have in common? Upon close investigation it is discovered that it is not talent alone that made them successful, but the opportunity to practice – hours and hours of practice. How much practice did they need before they became successful? Ten-thousand hours. Ten-thousand hours is a lot of time, it most certainly cannot be done overnight – usually it is the equivalent of ten-twenty years of practice. According to Malcolm Gladwell, this is the golden rule for success.

Mozart’s early works were not outstanding, according to psychologist Michael Howe in his book, “Genius Explained”. Even though he started composing at the age of six, many of his earlier compositions were probably written by his father and perhaps improved in the process. It wasn’t until he was twenty-one that his earliest masterwork (no. 9, K271) was composed. The music critic Harold Schonberg said that Mozart did not produce his greatest work until he had been composing for twenty years.

In 1960, the Beatles were a struggling high school band, which were invited to play at Hamburg and this was their golden opportunity. In an interview with John Lennon he stated, “We got better and got more confidence. We couldn’t help it with all the experience playing all night long. It was handy them being foreign. We had to try even harder, put our heart and soul into it, to get ourselves over. In Liverpool, we’d only ever done one-hour sessions, and we just used to do our best numbers, the same ones, at every one. In Hamburg, we had to play for eight hours, so we really had to find a new way of playing.”

They started playing seven nights a week once they became popular, five-eight hours a night. By the time they had their first burst of success in 1964 they had performed for an estimated twelve-hundred times. Philip Norman who wrote the Beatles biography, “Shout” stated, “They were no good on stage when they went there (Hamburg) and they were very good when they came back (Liverpool). They learned not only stamina, they had to learn an enormous amount of numbers. They weren’t disciplined on stage before that, but when they came back they sounded like no one else. It was the making of them”.

Now let’s turn to Bill Gates. Bill Gates was placed in a private school named Lakeside at the beginning of the seventh grade. Midway through Gates’ second year at Lakeside, the school started a computer club funded by a rummage sale by the school’s Mothers’ Club. In 1968, most colleges did not have computer clubs. Furthermore, Lakeside installed what was called an ASR-33 Teletype, which was a time sharing terminal with a direct link to a mainframe computer in downtown Seattle. Bill Gates got to do real-time programming as an eighth grader in 1968. From that moment on, Gates lived in the computer room. However, buying computer time was expensive, so one of the mothers of Lakeside, who was also one of the founders of Computer-Center-Corporation (C-Cubed), proposed that the computer club at Lakeside could test the company’s software over the weekends in exchange for free computer time. In this manner, Gates found one opportunity after another, anything for free time on the computer. Those five years, from the eighth grade through the end of high school were Bill Gates’ Hamburg. In the words of Bill Gates, “It was my obsession. I skipped athletics. I went up there at night. We were programming on weekends. It would be a rare week, that we wouldn’t get twenty-thirty hours in.”

These examples fulfill the first two requirements of the Yoga Sutra 1.14. The practice must take place for a long time and must be continuous. What about the third requirement – “a quality of positive attitude and eagerness” – where does this come from?

Malcolm Gladwell has divided his book into two sections: Opportunity and Legacy. Opportunity is what Mozart had at the age of six, he had his father, the Beatles had Hamburg and Bill Gates had Lakeside. The other requirement is legacy.

The best example of cultural legacies is described in the chapter, “Rice Paddies and Math Tests”. What is a cultural legacy? Cultural legacies are powerful forces. They have deep roots and long lives. They persist generation after generation, virtually intact, even as the economic and social demographic conditions that spawned them have vanished, and they play such a role in directing attitudes and behavior that we cannot make sense of our world without them.

From a yogic perspective, a cultural legacy is “Sanskara”. These are ingrained deep into our psyche. Sometimes, they help us and sometimes they do not. For example, in the chapter, “The Ethnic Theory of Plane Crashes” it is clear how cultural legacies create communication problems between pilots, co-pilots and traffic control between different countries, which can result in plane crashes. At the same time there are certain cultural legacies, which can help foster a positive attitude, perseverance and success. There is a Chinese proverb, “No one who can rise before dawn three-hundred and sixty-five days a year fails to make his family rich.” This is the slogan of every rice farmer. They do not blame the land, they do not blame the weather, instead they know that their harvest is directly proportional to the amount of work that they put into their rice paddy. Rice agriculture is skill oriented. If you are willing to weed a bit more diligently, become more adept at fertilizing, spend a bit more time monitoring water levels, do a better job at keeping the clay pans level, and make every use of each and every square inch of the rice paddy, you’ll harvest a bigger crop.

Students from the same culture approach Mathematics in the very same way. According to Allan Schoenfeld, a Math professor at Berkeley, ”We sometimes think about being good at Math as an innate ability. You either have it or you don’t. But to Schoenfeld it’s not so much ability as attitude. You master Math if you are willing to try. Success is a function of persistence and doggedness and the willingness to work hard. For example, spending twenty-two minutes to make sense of something that most people would give up on after thirty seconds.

What we learn from cultural legacies is that success is a function of attitude – the desire to achieve. This is good news for those who have always believed that they either “have it” or “don’t have it”, because now we know that everyone has it – everyone is deserving and capable of success. All that is required is the correct mindset.

In the words of Swami Vivekananda, “Think of one idea. Make that one idea your life – think of it, dream of it, live on that one idea. Let the brain, muscles, nerves, every part of your body, be full of that idea, and just leave every other idea alone. This is the way to success.”

~Kirti Saran
December the 9th, 2015

My grandmother, my father’s mother, was the only daughter, the middle child in a small family of three children. She had the gift of the pen, and could express her emotions with ease through writing. This gift came in handy and was used as an outlet for her innermost emotions after marriage. She bore four children of which only three survived. My father was the second-born son.

Her youngest son passed away when he was only sixteen. He had succumbed to a disease and begged for tea, during his last moments of life, which he did not get. After that, my grandmother never drank tea again. To live with the memories of a son, whom you had loved and lost, is a pain that only a mother can understand. The unbearable loss of a child, the immense guilt of not being able to save your son, is an enormous burden to bear and the worst kind of grief to deal with. My father tried to fill the void in her life, but unresolved grief is very difficult to get rid of. He had his own grief too, which remained unresolved. Death remains a topic which is rarely spoken about and often avoided. My grandmother expressed her pain in her poetry, which we found later on in her diaries.

Six years later, my father got married and started a new life in Canada. Making a living was not easy at first; he often described the rigors of working in a nickel mine in Sudbury to me. Dealing with frostbite on your toes and fingers is a painful experience for an Indian immigrant, especially while your whole family, including your new wife, is back in India enjoying the mild weather. Mining, a profession chosen by his father, was not one of his passions. About a year after my mother migrated to Canada, and I was born, we moved to Ottawa.

Life was frugal at first in Ottawa as a student of Electrical Engineering at Carleton University, but my father embraced his new life with all of his heart. He welcomed other Indian immigrants into our family, in order to fill up the void that he had of losing a little brother. Sometimes, I would wake up in the morning and find another person inhabiting my house. But I didn’t mind at all. I enjoyed the extra attention. These friends would soon get married and have families of their own, which would all become a part of my extended family. The difficulties of being new immigrants in a new country caused us to bond in such a way that we would have never bonded if we were comfortable and complacent. My father always sent money back to his mother, even when we hardly had any. My grandparents came to visit when my brother was born. These friends helped out, during their stay as well. As the years rolled by we grew financially stronger and belonged to many different social circles. There were many circles in which I was the oldest, as if I were everyone’s older sister, and they were my younger siblings. This added the attribute of responsibility to my personality. Some of my father’s friends were older than him. Perhaps, he wanted them to replace his older brother. I grew up never feeling devoid of any kind of relationship. We had everything we needed in our little paradise… our home away from home.

Our paradise was shattered when my grandmother grew ill. My father was relieved when her surgery was successful and we threw a party in honor of that. At the party, one of the children climbed up the shelf that held two glass vases, given to my grandparents on their anniversary, who had later gifted it to my parents. One of those glass vases broke. My father always told me that things try to give you important messages. The message, that we refused to accept, was that my grandmother was not well.
We were told that my grandmother was still ill, so we went to visit her a few months after her surgery. I was twelve years old and saw my father in a new light. He was a different person here; he was somebody’s long, lost son. Finally, his mother wanted him, and not the son that she had lost a long time ago. They spoke volumes to each other through their eyes. Her regret of being away from him for so long, and his longing for her love for all those years. I had never seen so much depth in a relationship before. I wondered how my father managed to build a world for us so far away from her, all this time while hiding his pain from us.

In order to protect my father from grief, he was told that his mother had cancer, the very day that we had to go back to Canada. She had already reached an advanced stage and there was no chance of survival. I am certain that something inside my father died at that moment, because he was never the same person again. My father felt that it would have been better if he had known before. I still remember him, holding his mother in a tight embrace, both of their faces buried in each other, crying as if there were no tomorrow. If one heart could have assimilated all of that pain present in that room at that moment, it would have burst.

A few months later, we received a letter from my grandmother on my father’s birthday. She was known for her perfect handwriting; however, this letter conveyed a completely different message. The words were written with great difficulty on the postcard and resembled the scribbles of a child. It was not what she wrote, but how she wrote it that disturbed us. The thought of her uncomfortably sitting at a table, enduring the physical pain that cancer imparted to her body, and painstakingly writing my father a letter really hurt him. Making a phone call to India was very difficult in those days, and by the time my father got through, all he could do was cry.

After my grandmother passed away, every comfort in my father’s life pinched him. The death of a loved one is much easier to bear with closure; unfortunately he did not get any. If he had known earlier or seen her lifeless body he would have received the visual confirmation of her passing. Grieving as a healing process is not acceptable for a man, as a result of which he was never able to heal. The only dream of his mother’s that he could fulfill was to move to India. He asked us numerous times if that is what we wanted to do. I was too young to help him in the decision making process, and could only feel what he felt, so I replied in the affirmative. My mother and brother replied in the affirmative every time they were asked and we moved to India.

I watched my father re-adjust to a country he had left behind sixteen years ago. It was not an easy job to do. He missed the discipline and orderliness of Canada, but he refused to give up. He believed that anything could be accomplished with a positive attitude and so did I. I enjoyed my popularity at school. Back in those days there were very few people who returned to India, especially Patna, and the girls at school were proud to have a Canadian girl in their class. They were curious, enthusiastic and wanted to learn French. I got to know my cousins much better than I ever did before, and realized that we weren’t so different after all. I gradually developed a strong study ethic, because I became conscious of my reputation, and I also learnt that academics were very important in my family. One day when I came back from school, I went upstairs to see my father who had returned from a trip to our village. I will never forget the look of satisfaction that I saw on his face. In spite of having typhoid, he was happy about all of the work that he had done in the village.

As the years rolled by my father became adept at dealing with people in Patna. He built three apartment complexes in his lifetime: one for his family, one for his Uncle’s family and one for my mother’s family. He was proud of the fact that I was able to adjust to a different culture and did well in University even though I was on my own in another city. I learnt that higher studies were better abroad. Looking for a suitable boy for marriage became a new project for my father. I got married, moved to California, and gradually re-adjusted into the culture that I was born into. My father missed me, as any father misses a daughter who has moved away to establish a home of her own. I missed the long conversations that I had with my father every morning while he had his tea. But for me, life was new and exciting, with plenty of opportunities to tap into, whereas for him life became bleak. After I had children, I was overwhelmed with maternal responsibilities. I became aggressive, outspoken and very independent, and my father felt that I did not need him anymore. During my trips to India, I spent most of my time running after my children, as opposed to sitting down and having meaningful conversations with my father, which we both missed. I wanted to tell my father to have patience, that one day when my children were older, we would be able to talk to each other the way we used to. I wanted to tell him that I never outgrew him and that I still needed and loved him, but I never did.

I received a phone call late one afternoon. My father’s surgery was successful and he was going back home. In my mind, the worst was over. The phone rang four times after which the answering machine went off. As soon as I picked up the phone I heard incoherent voices in a background of incessant chaos, along with my own voice on the answering machine, as if I had received a call from a mental asylum. I began to get irritated and was about to hang up when I heard crying. The voice sounded familiar and a fear gripped my heart. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart and two little words “…no more…” which my sister-in-law said between whimpers. “What are you saying?!” I screamed at her in exasperation, “It’s not possible!!” “Yes, Didi…” she said meekly while I threw the phone away as if doing so could reverse everything that had happened. I felt the weight of the whole world on my head as I sat down on the ground moaning and rocking myself. I started pulling out my hair when my husband asked me what happened. I looked at him as if nothing in the world mattered anymore. “Pick up the phone…” I managed to say as my hair was still clenched in my fists. Gradually the realization of my father’s passing filled my whole being with grief. Every ounce of my body ached with the pain of being left alone and deserted. I felt as if my whole world had turned upside-down. I rocked myself while wondering what to do. Suddenly, I felt as if I needed to see my father one last time, before his face vanished from the surface of the earth. But he was cremated before I could get there and I never got my closure.

After my father passed away, I understood the grief he felt when his mother passed away. His grief was suppressed, just like my grandmother’s, and I felt that I had opened up to three generations of unresolved grief. I decided that I needed to resolve it before I pass away, so that it doesn’t pass on to my children. I think about it, write about it and cry whenever I need to, in order to heal, and I am better today than I was a year ago. After the passing of a loved one it is normal to feel a void. The void says, “You are alone.” It hurts like a physical pain which is very real and not a figment of the imagination. The world appears to be a shallow, materialistic, transient place with no sustenance. Dependability on objects seen today vanishes because a particular face has vanished forever. The nurturing of every relationship seems futile, because the outcome of each one is separation. The heart which has learned to love also learns that it must grieve one day for every individual that it has embraced. But there is more than the eye can see in the spiritual world. I cannot see my father, but I know he is there. I don’t know which world he is in, but I know he can hear me. My heart says, “I never outgrew you and I always loved and needed you. I would not be the person I am today if it weren’t for you. I don’t regret any of your decisions because every hardship I endured led me to a new path of self-discovery. Every life experience made me wiser and stronger. Thank-you for the unique life you gave me. Some souls are never meant to part and certain relationships are timeless. You were my confidante, my mentor, my emotional pillar, the only human being in the world who knew me and loved me for what I am…you were my father…and I will always, always love you.”

Dedicated to my father, Mr. R. K. Saran (May 21st, 1941 – Dec. 9th, 2007)

It has been ten years since you left me, and I have forgotten what it feels like to have a father. A person who saw me for who I am, and told me that I was too talented to waste my time doing mundane things. A person who did not want to see me fall into the same trap that other women fell into, sacrificing their own dreams for their family. It was this faith, that I was someone special, which forced me to be different.

“Kirti bahut door chali gayi hain…”, (Kirti, has gone too far away…) was a constant lament on your lips, but it wasn’t until you passed away that the distance between California and Patna became unbearable for me. That flight and train ride back to Patna, immediately after you passed, was the longest journey of my life. No one will ever understand how painful it is to travel 10,000 miles back home after a parent has passed away, unless you have already done it. I never got my closure, because you were cremated immediately. I knew before I boarded the plane that your physical presence was gone. I hadn’t seen you for two years, and I needed to see you or talk to you one last time. I needed to go back home, to the same place where you passed away, hoping that you would talk to me in my dreams, but you were already gone. All I had to hold on to were memories. After your passing, my whole childhood flashed before my eyes, and memories long forgotten submerged.

On the flight back to India, at one of the airports, I saw a little girl eating breakfast with her Daddy and remembered our car trips when we were in Canada. You would stop at McDonald’s and it was really early in the morning. We were sleepy. “What’s this?” I would ask, still half-asleep. “It’s a hash brown. Eat it… It’s good.” Such an insignificant memory, became so relevant. I woke up from my reverie, staring at this little girl and her father, and realized that I had lost this care and affection forever. In one instant, you were gone.

Whilst tightening the seat belt strap on the plane, my mind went back to when I was fourteen years old. This was our big move from Canada to India. I was very skinny back then, and the tightest setting of the seat belt was too loose for me. I was sitting beside you and I showed you the seat belt, and you just grinned and shrugged, “I guess it’s not meant for skinny people.” Both of us laughed and I saw the laugh of a man who was finally free, as if you didn’t have a care in the world. We had sold everything in Canada including our house, and were moving to India. There was a certain feeling of lightness in this journey, as if we had left everything behind and were venturing into the unknown, embracing the future. You felt like you were fulfilling your mother’s dream (my grandmother). Whoever knew, that you would pass away in the same house where she passed away. I finally understood the grief you felt after her passing because now it was happening to me. You were in Canada when she passed away, and I was in California when you passed away. You got a phone call after her demise and I got a phone call after yours. When I received that phone call, I threw the phone away. I felt the weight of the whole world on my head as I sat down on the ground moaning and rocking myself. I started pulling out my hair when my husband asked me what happened. I looked at him as if nothing in the world mattered anymore. “Pick up the phone…” I managed to say as my hair was still clenched in my fists. Gradually the realization of my father’s passing filled my whole being with grief. Every ounce of my body ached with the pain of being left alone and deserted. I felt as if my whole world had turned upside-down. That feeling of hopelessness and despair… That huge ache in the heart… Now that pain was mine.

When I landed in Delhi, I saw a father receiving his daughter, with the same pride and joy that you would receive me after I got married. That look of happiness on the father’s face when he saw her, and that sudden transformation in the stance of the young woman when she saw her father, her sudden burst of confidence and familiarity. As I looked at them, I stood there feeling absolutely alone and abandoned, with a sharp stab of pain in my chest, “Where was my father?” my heart cried. Never again would I see your face beaming with pride… Never again would you pick me up… Your face had vanished forever. You were gone.

The train-ride from Delhi to Patna had even more memories. We always travelled sleeper class because you wanted us to see the real India. You were never arrogant or pompous and we always lived beneath our means. “Machhad Singh! (Mosquito face)”. It was 2003 and the children in the train were beckoning my son, Raghav, to come and play with him. He was twenty-months old at the time, and was delighted to see other children. You looked at Raghav and said, “Children have a language of their own.” At that time all my son could say was, “What’s that?” to which the children replied to in their own language. Children have no boundaries or barriers, they don’t look at race, color, nationality or status… all they can see is pure love.

It was 2005 and you were looking at Dhruv in the train compartment. Dhruv was twenty-one months old and Raghav was three years old.. “Dhruv is weak.” You said to me. “No, he looks delicate, but he’s strong.” I responded. You agreed immediately. That is the exact same thing people would say when they looked at me as a child and that is exactly how you responded. You were there when Dhruv had open-heart surgery. You prayed for him with me. Now he is strong and he is just like you.

You left far too soon. After I became a yoga teacher, I found an old yoga teacher training form in your “Kriya Yoga” book from 1975. You were contemplating studies in yoga, but never did, because you had to support us. You were an Electrical Engineer, and were good at it, but never really got to pursue your passions. You would have loved that I teach yoga but you never got to see that.

Both of my children had a very short time span with you. Now they are sixteen and thirteen. Remember when I won a gold medal for the 400-meter relay race and you were so proud of me? Now both of my children run much more than I ever did and win awards. You would have been so proud of them and they would have loved you.

Grief has an interesting way isolating a person. It makes you feel like you’re all alone. Around the time that you passed away this song from “Om Shanti Om” reverberated in my heart, “Chhan Se Jo Toote Koi Sapna… Jag Soona Soona Lage… Koi Rahe Na Jab Apna… Jag Soona Soona Lage… Hai To Yeh Kyon Hota Hain… Jab Yeh Dil Rota Hai… Roye Sisak Sisak Ke Hawaayen… Jag Soona Lage”. (When a dream is shattered the world feels barren… When no one is yours, the world feels barren… Why does it happen that when the heart cries, it feels like the winds are trembling, whimpering and crying too?   The world feels barren…”

Grief takes it’s own sweet time.  For many years after that, the month of December brought back that same pain and this song by Green Day echoed in my soul,

“Here comes the rain again, falling from the stars…
Drenched in my pain again becoming who we are…
As my memory rests, but never forgets what I lost…
Wake me up when September (December) ends.”

Ten years later, the heart is lighter, but that same love remains, and I still cry whenever I write about you. Grief is not a figment of the imagination; it is real. It is not something you can shake off immediately, it not something that you can shake off ever. The loss of a parent is not trivial, it creates a shift in your personality, a paradigm shift that makes you see the world differently.

On a lighter note, we both loved to write. In large families there is very little personal space, and you often complained that for writing, silence and quiet contemplation were necessary.  Our conversations were filled with silence. We spent many hours sitting together in silence, while you drank your morning tea, and I my vitamin milk. We spoke about life, but there was very little speaking and more thinking. The words we spoke were filled with meaning, because they were spoken after so much contemplation. The books we read, the ideas we shared, were all discussed, after a lot of thought processing. So, here is your favorite essay in your own words:

SILENCE by R. K. Saran

Once an old Rishi and his disciple went on a pilgrimage. Often people gathered around them to listen to the Rishi, whose simple and wise words went directly to their hearts. The Rishi was a great saint, although he was clothed like a beggar and didn’t have many disciples. He did not talk much, and sometimes many days passed by without him saying anything at all and people often wondered why.

“Silence is power.” the Rishi once said. “What is the use of talking? You learn through silence and not through words.”

Old sages used to say, “Be still and know that I am within.”

Silence is one of the powerful sources of communion of souls. Two people can remain together physically, silently, no words need to be said, yet these people communicate telepathically.

Two very old people who have lived together for many years as man and wife can anticipate the thoughts of each other. They, truly in love, do not engage themselves in senseless babble or small talk; they sit together, picking up silently the messages flowing from one brain to another. It was better, if they had learnt this when they were younger, because old people are at the end of their journey.

Two world famous thinkers, they were very old friends, once used to live together, met after a long time. They sat on a lawn – no talk, quietly and peacefully – they sat for hours. Before they parted, one said to the other, “We had a great time.” The other replied, “Surely it is not easy to get this kind of company.”

We talk too much, all of us, we let our brains clutter away like machines which have no thought. If we relax, we remain alone more and talk less, when we are in company of others, then thoughts of a greater purity are modified by the influence of the company of others.

Some of the old villagers who were alone all day had greater purity of thought than any person in the city. Shepherds, while by no means educated people, had a degree of spiritual purity which many priests would envy.

It is the thought and the reason which keep humans in their very inferior present position. Humans, inspite of their vaunted superiority, are in many respects lower than the lowest beasts. This is because we have wrong values, humans crave only money, and they crave the material things of this mundane life, whereas the things that matter after this life are the immaterial things.

Silence would be providing one of the most precious things upon this earth, for in the modern world, there is no longer silence, there is the constant roar of traffic, the constant noise of aircrafts overhead, and over that are unending episodes of radio and TV.

Let us try a day and see how quiet we can be? Say only what is necessary and avoid all that which is senseless, gossip and chatter. If we do this occasionally and deliberately, we will be quite shocked at the days and as how much we normally say which really doesn’t matter in the least.

SILENCE IS GOLDEN.
R. K. Saran

In the words of T.K.V. Desikachar, “The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali are more universal than any other text because it focuses on the mind – what it’s qualities are and how we can influence it.” Although the 196 yoga sutras may feel intimidating, overwhelming and incomprehensible to many students, they are not meant to be followed religiously, rather they are to be used as a guide to enhance your personal practice and way of life. According to I.K. Taimni, the author of “The Science of Yoga”, “A system of philosophy however lofty and true it may be should not be expected to give us an absolutely correct picture of the transcendent truths as they really exist. The wise student of yoga takes the various doctrines of philosophy and religion lightly, as tentative explanations and interpretations of truth beyond the realm of the intellect, but uses them as best as he can in his direct discovery of those truths.” I.K. Taimni provides an example to explain this. He says that if you want to know a country you need to see it with your own eyes. That does not mean that you should throw away the maps and plans which are meant to give us a rough idea with regard to the country. These do not give us true knowledge, but they do help us in finding the country and seeing it. In other words, substituting theory for practice or practicing without any knowledge of theory could hinder a student of yoga from the attainment of their objective.
Yoga Sutra 2.17 states, “Drastr-drsyayoh samyogo heya-hetuh” or “The cause of that unavoidable pain is the union of the Seer (Purusha) and the Seen (Prakriti, or Nature)”. According to Samkhya philosophy (a mathematical philosophy, which is the basis of most of the Sutras) Purusha is one of twenty-five “tattvas” or meta-physical elements and the rest of the twenty-four elements basically belong to Prakriti. Nicolai Bachman, the author of “The Path of the Yoga Sutras” has dedicated a whole chapter in his book to the definition of the Purusha. He sums it up by stating a shloka from the Bhagavad Gita, “Weapons cannot cut this, fire cannot burn this, water cannot wet this, nor can wind make it dry.” The Purusha is the true self, the pure observer, the soul inhabiting the body, it is constant, and unlike Prakriti, does not change. In this sutra it states that the cause of misery is the union of Purusha with Prakriti. When Purusha starts identifying itself with Prakriti, and does not understand that it is separate, this creates Samyoga or non-separation of Purusha and Prakriti, which causes confusion (Klesh). T.K.V. Desikachar has provided an example to explain this in his book, “The Heart of Yoga”, in a section appropriately named constancy (Purusha) and change (Prakriti). “When we are swimming in a river and cannot see the bank, it is difficult to notice the current. We are moving so much with the river that we may scarcely see its flow. But if we go to the bank where we have firm ground it is much easier to see how the river is flowing.” This describes the entanglement of pure consciousness (Purusha) with matter (Prakriti). When Purusha is submerged in Prakriti, it cannot see how it is influencing it, however, if it is standing apart then it can observe its movements, and not be a part of it. A worldly example is provided by Swami Satchidananda, “It seems we always identify ourselves with what is seen, with what we possess. As the self, all things are possessed by us. That’s why we say – my body, my mind, my language, my knowledge. Everything we call ours cannot be us.” For example, a mother identifies herself with her thoughts and opinions. She thinks, “This is my thought, and this is who I am.” Her daughter also identifies herself with her thoughts and opinions. She thinks, “Well, this is my thought and this is who I am.” Since, they have differing opinions, they feel as if they cannot get along with each other, which causes misery. If both of them could understand that they are not their thoughts, which change from one fleeting moment to the next, rather they are the eternal light that resides inside of them, the same well of love and pure consciousness, then they would not feel so different. They would be able to see each other as manifestations of the same eternal light and become more kind and compassionate towards each other. Of course, you are entitled to have your own thoughts and opinions, but that is not you. It is this understanding that can help you see others as you see yourself.
After distinguishing between Purusha and Prakriti, Patanjali states in Yoga Sutra 2.20, “Drasta drisimatrah suddho ‘pi pratyayanupasyah”. This is translated as, “The Seer is pure consciousness (the power of seeing) but though pure, appears to see through the mind.” The Purusha is referred to as pure consciousness by I.K. Taimni and “the power of seeing” by Swami Satchidanda, which is essentially the same, but the similar point that they are trying to stress on is that even though the Purusha is pure, it still relies on the mind (Citta – a part of Prakriti) to see. The question that arises here is why does Purusha need Prakriti to see? This question is answered beautifully in Sutra 2.23. For now, it is important to understand the relationship between Purusha and the mind (Citta). When the mind is influenced by Avidya, which is defined by Pandit Rajmani Tigunait as our irresistible desire to see and find what our deeply rooted habits demand we see and find, and to reject discovering truth beyond the domain of our projections, then the mind is colored or not clear. When the mind is not clear then Purusha cannot see clearly. The less Avidya there is, the easier it is for Purusha to see accurately. Jiddu Krishnamurthi talks about the same conditioning of the mind in his book, “Freedom from the Known” which is a liberation from your Samskaras (what is deeply embedded in your psyche). According to T.K.V. Desikachar, “As the Purusha observes through and with the help of the mind, the quality of its observation depends totally on the quality of the mind. Since, we cannot work directly with the Purusha, we focus on the mind. Through yoga, the mind steadily becomes more transparent, so the Purusha is able to see more clearly and make this seeing more accessible to us.” An example of this, is the mind judging someone by their looks or what they have heard about them. This hinders them from seeing who they actually are. The yogic (clear) mind can see the whole of humanity as its own – and embrace all without any exceptions.
According to I.K. Taimni, Yoga Sutra 2.23 sums up the theory of evolution, for which Darwin is considered the Father. “Sva-svami-saktyoh svarupopalabdhi-hetuh samyogah”, this is translated in simple words as “The Union of Purusha and Prakriti causes the recognition of the nature and powers of them both.” In the previous Sutra we wanted to know why Purusha, which is pure, needs to be yoked to Prakriti. The answer is to enable Purusha to attain Self-realization and to unfold the powers latent in Prakriti. The ultimate purpose of Purusha is to be established in its own state of Kaivalyam, which is the final state of emancipation, where we are not affected by any conditioning at all in the Citta. This is a gradual process, which requires the Purusha to go through many stages. The Purusha transcends to one plane, masters that plane, and then moves on to the next one. Prakriti changes itself according to Purusha so that it may learn the lessons that it needs to learn and the Purusha in turn adapts itself to Prakriti as it evolves. In Science, a unicellular Amoeba becomes more and more complex, until it reaches the stage of Mammals and finally Homo Sapiens. The environment it lives in causes it to evolve in order to survive (“Survival of the Fittest” – Spencer). A worldly example of this is that there are many things for us to learn from the Universe. In our lifetimes, we meet many people, the true Yogi believes that every person has something to teach them. If we approach life with an open mind, much can be learned, from everyone and every situation that we are placed in. It is this learning that will make us more tolerant, and enable us to see others as ourselves.
In the next Sutra, 2.24, Swami Satchidananda says that Patanjali laughs at the idea he has just expressed. “Tasya hetur avidya” or “The cause of this union is ignorance.” It is as if Purusha forgot its essential nature due to Avidya, made a mistake, and merged with Prakriti. Even though this Samyoga is essential for its evolution, the act of yoking with Prakriti was under the influence of Avidya, so it was a blind union, or simply a mistake on the part of the Purusha. If the Union occurred in the full light of knowledge, which only happens in the case of very enlightened Purushas, then it is not blind union (according to Pandit Tigunait) however, this is very rare. From this Sutra we learn that making a mistake is part of the whole learning process. We all make mistakes, if we did not, we would not learn from them. When you understand that making mistakes is a part of evolving, as opposed to feeling intense regret over making one, or treating a mistake as if it were a hindrance to your progress, then only will you be able to learn from them. Once you learn from them, you become wiser, and this helps you to forgive others who make mistakes. This reminds me of the famous quotation by Alexander Pope, “To err is human; to forgive, divine.” Once you understand that making mistakes is a part of learning and that the realization of the mistake is what counts, then it is very easy to forgive.
Yoga Sutra 2.25, “Tad-abhavat samyogabhavo hanam tad drseh kaivalyam”, or “The dissociation of Purusha and Prakriti brought about by the dispersion of Avidya is the real remedy and that is the Liberation of the Seer.” Now that we understand why Purusha needs to yoke with Prakriti, and that this blind union creates misery, at this point we need to understand, what needs to be done after that. Let’s take the example of the mother and daughter. The mother knows that her identifying with her thought gives her grief. So, for a fraction of a second she is able to separate herself from that thought and her heart wells up with love for her daughter. As soon as the next thought enters her mind, she identifies with it again, and once more is plunged into misery. It is not enough to understand that associating yourself with your thought gives you grief, you have to practice to dissociate yourself from it all the time which is very difficult. Once, the Purusha is able to dissociate itself from Prakriti eternally, then that is true Emancipation or Kaivalyam. Realization of this fact is the first step and practice is the second step. This could take many lifetimes, but every step you take will reduce your misery, and bring you closer to your goal.
Yoga Sutra 2.26 is an extension of the previous Sutra. “Viveka-khyatir aviplava hanopayah” or “The uninterrupted practice of the awareness of the Real is the means of dispersion (of Avidya)”. How do we permanently dissociate Purusha from Prakriti or permanently remove Avidya? In this Sutra the concept of Viveka-khyati is introduced. Viveka-khyati is an actual awareness of Reality, a direct, immediate contact with the innermost spiritual consciousness. In this state there is complete knowledge of Reality which does not go away, or is not intermittently clouded by Avidya. Before entering a state of Viveka-khyati it is important to practice Viveka, which is knowing and consciously discerning one object from another. We use Viveka in our day to day lives. In the previous example, I referred to learning something from everyone. However, before you do that you must be able to distinguish between the good characteristics of that person and their bad habits. You may have a favorite teacher, but you do not want to imbibe their bad habits (everyone has them), you just want to inculcate their good characteristics, such as dedication, persistence and perseverance into yourself. Minimizing contact with those who bring us down and influence us in a harmful way, while maximizing our time spent in the company of people who support our chosen path, is also practicing Viveka. Practicing Viveka helps to reduce Avidya.
Yoga Sutra 2.27 states, “Tasya saptadha pranta-bhumih prajna” or “In his case the highest stage of enlightenment is reached by seven stages.” This Sutra points out that the state of uninterrupted awareness of Reality is attained though seven stages. This particular sutra boggles many yoga students. Remember that these are the seven stages after the Purusha has already reached the first stage of Samadhi. Swami Satchidananda says, “The teachings may help you slightly, but too much learning may just muddle your mind. We should learn a little and just work with that.” I will mention the seven stages and explain them as briefly as possible: Experience of the end of 1) desire to know anything more; 2) desire to stay away from anything; 3) desire to gain anything new; 4) desire to do anything; 5) sorrow; 6) fear; 7) delusion. The first stage refers to turning towards your inner teacher and stop searching for an external guru. The second stage refers to all pleasure and pain as being a manifestation of the mind. It does not come from the outside, but the inside. The third stage states that all learning must come from inside; not from books or any external factor. In the fourth stage Purusha is at peace with itself, and feels as if nothing needs to be done. In the fifth stage Citta lets go of its ego and in the sixth stage it completely loses itself. In the seventh stage, the Purusha rests in itself in a state of Kaivalyam. This Sutra basically tells you to turn your awareness inside. Your best teacher is your inner teacher, so always listen to your intuitions.
Yoga Sutra 2.28, “Yoganganusthanad asuddhi-ksaya jnana-diptir a viveka-khyateh” or “From the practice of the component exercises of yoga, on the destruction of impurity, arises spiritual illumination which develops into awareness of Reality.” This means that the same inner teacher, which you are listening to, becomes an illuminating light, which in turn develops into awareness of Reality. Your inner teacher is not just your intuition, it is your guiding light, without which you will not be able to attain the awareness of Reality. Never underestimate the power of your inner light. It is this light that will set you free.
Yoga Sutra 2.29 states, “Yama-niyamasana-pranayama-pratyahara-dharana-dhyana-samadhayo’stavangani.” The system of yoga put forth by Patanjali has eight parts (limbs) and is therefore called Ashtanga Yoga. These limbs are related to each other, but whether they are to be practiced sequentially or not depends upon the objective of the yogi (they may be practiced simultaneously). Yama, the first limb, refers to social ethics and can be practiced anytime one person interacts with another. Niyama refers to personal self-care where we observe ourselves and implement changes into our lives that can transform our personalities and increase our level of contentment and happiness. This is the equivalent to nourishing the Purusha. Asana refers to refinement of the body, and is much more than performing physical postures. As we perform asanas, impurities are churned up and released, which allows our life force (Prana) to flow more easily, improving our overall well being. The function of Pranayama, or regulation of breath is to open up the energy channels (Nadis) so that Prana may flow freely through them. Pratyahara is the tuning out of sensory input, for example, when you practice asanas you draw your senses inwards, and may not see or hear disturbances around you. Dharana is chosing a focus when the attention is held in one direction. Dhyana is when a link is established between the observer and observed and Samadhi is when the observer and observed become one.
According to I.K. Taimni, “The Science of Yoga cannot be mastered in one life but only in a succession of strenuous lives devoted exclusively to the yogic ideal.” This may seem discouraging to the impatient yogi, but that yogi must remember that, “A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step” as stated by Lao Tzu and Confucius. Swami Satchidananda states that, “Yoga helps in every aspect of our lives. It’s not something to be experienced after sixty years of practice, but something that can benefit everyone now.” For every step that you take, there is something to gain. Whether Prakriti is Maya (an illusion) as stated in the Vedantas or an independent existence of its own as stated in Samkhya philosophy, it does not matter, its purpose is to help the Purusha evolve. Prakriti could be compared to the woods in Robert Frost’s poem, and Purusha could be the traveller that is tempted to enjoy the woods (as Bhokta – the enjoyer) but is constantly reminded of his task at hand and tries to just observe the woods as remotely as possible. The last stanza of the poem is as follows:

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Life is a learning experience. Do not get lost in the woods. Remember your true purpose, and let your inner light shine.

“Conditioning of the mind” as stated by Jiddu Krishnamurthi in “Freedom from the Known” is the act of creating various patterns in the mind which become embedded deep in the psyche.  These patterns can be referred to as “Sanskara”.  This concept is also synonymous with “Domestication of the Human” explained by Don Miguel Ruiz in “The Four Agreements”.  The practice of yoga helps to reduce the conditioning of the mind until the mind becomes completely clear.  When the mind becomes clear, then only does the “Purusha” or the true self emerge.  Stephen Covey refers to a paradigm shift in his book, “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People” where readers are asked to look at a picture and interpret it in their own way.  On the next page an entirely different method of interpreting the picture is presented which demonstrates how the mind works.  Looking at the world in a different way, represents this same paradigm shift.

 

Domestication of the human is inevitable and a very normal learning process of life.  When a child is born, it is taught a language through conditioning of the mind.  It is shown the image of a tree and told that it is called a “tree”.  From then on, that baby is able to associate the image of a tree, with the word, “tree”.  When children are young, they are innocent, and most often will believe anything that they are told.  It is not the fault of the parents, because these parents were brought up in the same manner.  However, “klesh” or confusion and sorrow arise when that individual grows a little older and does not agree with certain patterns that have been embedded into the mind.  These patterns could be social, religious, based on a particular generation or based on gender.

 

According to Don Miguel Ruiz every human being has a judge, a belief system and a victim inside of them.  The belief system refers to the set patterns in the mind.  Every time the individual wants to deviate from that belief system, the judge rebukes the victim, which adheres to the belief system out of fear.  The belief system provides a safety net, from which the victim is afraid to escape, because it does not know what else exists in the world.

 

But why escape from the safety net at all?  Why not remain captive in that which is known instead of venturing into the unknown?  Living within established patterns is the equivalent of living in a world of “Maya” or illusion, or according to the Toltecs living in “Mitote” or fog.  The fog in the mind is conditioning which prevents the true self from seeing the world as it is meant to be seen.  For example, the mind can be compared to a pair of glasses.  The “Purusha” or the true self, can only see the world through the mind.  When the mind is not clear or the glasses are tinted, there is still significant conditioning in the mind or “fog” and the mind sees a distorted image of the world which is not real or an illusion.  However, when the mind is clear, when there is no tint in the glasses or absolutely no conditioning in the mind, then the “Purusha” or the true self, is able to see the world in all of its beauty and love.  This is pure enlightenment, when the real self sees itself in every other life form.  When a human being looks at another human and sees a reflection of himself.  All barriers, all walls disappear, and all that can be seen is light, the same light that resides within.  The clear mind has no rules, biases or prejudices, and does not see race, religion, gender or any form, it sees only love.  Once, this love is realized, all fear disappears, and the true talents of that person emerge.  The individual begins to live life passionately, with a purpose and without fear.  This is true freedom…  Freedom of the soul…  Freedom from the known… and it is with this freedom that we finally begin to live life as it should be lived…

 

“The body is the chariot, atman its owner.

The senses are its horses, and sense enjoyment is the green grass.

Intelligence is its charioteer, the mind its reins.

By controlling the mind, we can go anywhere.”

 

-Chandogya Upanishad

Dedicated to all those who taught me the difference between the character ethic, the personality ethic and the dilemma that lies within…

 

According to Stephen Covey, author of “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People” in modern society the personality ethic seems to dominate the character ethic, which was much more prevalent during the time of Abraham Lincoln, however seemed to dissipate over the years as the personality ethic presented a magic “fix” to modern day problems.  The personality ethic does work, but only if the character ethic is in place.  The character ethic refers to a person’s ethics, morals and values for example honestly, integrity and trustworthiness.  The personality ethic refers to techniques for example the “how to” approach as in “how to get a job”.  Stephen Covey describes both ethics using the example of an iceberg.  The tip of the iceberg which can be seen is the personality ethic, but this is only 10% of the iceberg.  What is submerged under water, the rest of the 90% of the iceberg, is the character ethic.  Although image, technique and skills can influence your outward success, the weight of real effectiveness lies in good character.

 

From the yogic perspective, the tip of the iceberg refers to “asana”  what is submerged underneath is the philosophy of the practice (yama – relationship to others, niyama – self-care, pranayama – breathing, pratyahara – withdrawal of the senses, dharana – focus, dhyan – meditation and samadhi – ultimate liberation).  These cannot be seen, but constitute the integrity of the asana.  Without these the asana cannot float and is meaningless.  Both compliment each other, and both are required for a complete experience.

 

Habit 1 : Be Proactive

 

Reactive people allow outside influences (moods, feelings or circumstances) to control their responses.  There is a stimulus and then an immediate response based on emotion or past experiences.  The majority of us react in this manner.  Proactive people receive the stimulus, understand the freedom they have to choose according to the values they have such as self-awareness, imagination, conscience and independent will and then respond accordingly.  A proactive person is able to stand apart from the situation and view it objectively.  However, this takes practice.  A beautiful example of this principle is stated in T.K.V. Desikachar’s book, “The Heart of Yoga”.  “Purusha” is referred to as the true self which never changes, and “Prakriti” is referred to as the mind, body and the whole of nature which always changes.  If “Purusha” is submerged in “Prakriti”, just as a man (purusha) is swimming in a river (prakriti), then that man is not able to feel the current in the river.  He flows along with the river, allowing the river to take him along its path.  However, if that man (purusha) stands on the river bank, outside of the river, then it can see the river flowing.  In the same manner, most of us allow life to take us on an emotional roller coaster ride, sometimes high and sometimes low, however if we stand apart from the river and view it objectively we will not be victims of circumstances, rather we will be presented with choices.

 

Habit 2 : Begin With the End in Mind

 

Mental creation precedes physical creation.  Start with a clear understanding of your destination and write a mission statement.  A mission statement refers to a powerful document that expresses your personal sense of purpose and meaning in life.  It is a governing constitution by which you evaluate decisions and choose behaviors.  Another chapter of the same book (The Heart of Yoga) is titled “Things that Darken the Heart”.  In order to have a clear vision, first it is important to clear the mind.  The mind is clouded by certain patterns of thinking which have been embedded deep into the psyche.  These patterns inhibit the individual from attaining his or her true potential.   These patterns are referred to as different things in different cultures.  They may be called “Sanskara” by Desikachar or “Conditioning of the Mind” by Krishnamurti or “Domestication of the Planet” by the Toltecs.  The cloudiness in the mind can be called “avidya – ignorance” or “mitote – fog”.  Yoga is the idea that something changes.  That change must bring us to a point where we have never been before.  In other words, that which was impossible, becomes possible.  The endeavor of yoga is to clear the mind, in order to attain that clear vision, which helps one to understand the true purpose of his or her life.

 

Habit 3 : Put First Things First

 

The key is not to prioritize your schedule, but to schedule your priorities.  Things which matter the most must never be at the mercy of things which matter the least.  However, this requires the quality of “Vivek”.  Vivek is the power to distinguish what is right for you and what is not.  For example, when you surround yourself by like minded people they will be able to support your goals.  However, if you are surrounded by people who do not share your point of views they will not be able to support you, and you will begin to  doubt your ability.  In addition to that, the correct intention must be in place.  Ravan, the ten-headed demon, used his yogic powers to manipulate minds for his own good, however this led to his destruction.  These yogic powers, or “Siddhi” should be used for the greater good of humanity, not in order to attain power over the world.

 

Habit 4 : Think Win-Win

 

This is the habit of seeking solutions so that everyone can win.  This refers to the abundance principle: there is plenty in the universe for everyone.  It is not necessary for one person to lose, in order for the other to win.  There is no dearth of happiness, it can only increase by sharing it. Everyone is talented and everyone is creative.  Everyone already has inside of them what they need to succeed.  It is just a matter of time before they realize it, and then discover how unique they are, and how to add this to the beauty of the world.  That light within them can be called “purusha” or “nagual”.  There is no scarcity of that light.

 

Habit 5 : Seek First to Understand, then to be Understood

 

This refers to the quality of listening.  A person who listens has the quality of understanding better than a person who is busy talking all day long.  Indeed communication is important, but listening is part of that communication.  Most people listen with the intent to reply, not to understand.  You listen to yourself as you prepare in your mind what you are going to say, the questions you are going to ask…  You filter everything you hear through your life experiences which is your frame of reference.  You check what you hear against your autobiography and see how it measures up.  Consequently, you decide prematurely what the other person means before he/she finishes communicating.  During the first year of yoga, the most significant change that you experience is the change in your relationship to other people or “Yama”.  This is how you treat others.  As the power of empathy increases, so does your understanding of other people.

 

Habit 6 : Synergize

 

The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.  Synergy takes place when two or more people produce more together than the sum of what they could have produced separately.  However, there are many blocks to synergy such as anger, anxiety, jealously, defensiveness, ego and fear.  This habit goes back to the principle of abundance.  There is plenty in the world for everyone.  When we let go of the feeling of competitiveness, and stop doubting ourselves, there is so much power in coming together with other people and working towards a common goal.  By valuing and respecting the differences between each other and viewing them as opportunities for learning, we equip ourselves with tools to synthesize superior solutions to problems.  All that is required is to clear the mind.  To get rid of that fog (mitote), all of the conditioning of the mind, and see each other as one whole.

 

Habit 7 : Sharpening the Saw

 

The first part of learning is knowledge.  The fact that we understand the theory behind the practice.  The second part is to practice, practice and practice some more…  An example of this can be a relationship between two people.  We often identify ourselves with our thoughts, ideas, ego and opinions.  However, a thought is not permanent.  It changes from one moment to the next.  Your true self is permanent, it is the steady light that resides inside of you, a constant source of love.  So, to identify yourself with your thought is a very common mistake.  Two people may have differing political opinions, religious or cultural beliefs, however, if they are able to dissociate themselves from their thoughts, then they will be able to discover the love that they have between them.  When “Purusha” the true self, is able to dissociate itself from “Prakriti”, matter, then that is true bliss or enlightenment.

 

“Strength lies in differences, not in similarities. ” – Stephen Covey (1932 – 2012)