Western minds made of Faustian bargain which entailed closing itself to the experience of God. When Jung wrote about this in the 30s he warned about psychic inflation and the spirit of Wotan behind Hitler. You see when Nietzsche declared that God is dead he instantly began to transform according to Jung. He became possessed by the archetype of rebirth because those vital powers in us which we associate with God are powers of self renewal and eternal change. Nietzsche said taht all his thoughts jumped out of his brain like Pallas jumping out of the head of Zeus. But on the next page he complained about terrible vomiting and awful headaches that pestered him while he worked. Before he could write about the Superman he had to created the Superman. Who is bold enough or courageous or mad enough to suppose that he is capable of creating beyond himself, to suggest that in the absence of God he is the carrier of divine activity? Nietzsche was. He said, “ The ray of a star may shine in your life and your hope may be called: ‘I am, I give birth to the Superman.’”
According to Vedanta there are four paths to liberation:
-
The path of action through selfless service to others.
-
The path of devotion directed to one’s highest ideal.
-
The path of knowledge discriminating the eternal from the impermanent.
-
The path of meditation stilling the mind by concentrating on breath or a mantra.
People selfishly think that they belong only to themselves so they compare themselves with other people and then they think that they are suffering. In fact, though, every person is a part of nature. Nature itself is only an empirical reality of the senses. That is, we only know it phenomenally. To know it as it is, still the mind. All that is left is the pure consciousness that you are.
Atma Vichara
Atma Vichara, often translated as “Self-Inquiry,” is a contemplative practice central to the teachings of Advaita Vedanta, a non-dualistic school of Hindu philosophy. It was popularised by the Indian sage Ramana Maharshi. The practice is designed to help individuals discover their true nature by questioning the identity of the self.
Key Aspects of Atma Vichara
1. Core Question: “Who am I?”
The primary technique involves persistently asking oneself the question “Who am I?” or “To whom do these thoughts arise?” The purpose is to direct attention inward to the source of the mind and ego.
2. Turning Attention Inward
Rather than seeking answers in external phenomena or intellectual reasoning, the practitioner continuously turns attention inward, seeking the origin of the “I” thought.
3. Disidentification from the Ego
The practice helps disidentify from the ego, which is seen as a false self-constructed by thoughts, memories, and experiences. By persistently inquiring into the nature of the self, one realises that the ego is not the true self.
4. Realization of the True Self (Atman)
The ultimate goal of Atma Vichara is to realize that the true self (Atman) is pure, infinite consciousness, which is identical with Brahman, the ultimate reality in Advaita Vedanta. This realization is often described as an experience of non-dual awareness or enlightenment.
Steps in Atma Vichara
1. Sit Quietly
Find a quiet place and sit comfortably. Close your eyes and take a few deep breaths to settle your mind.
2. Ask the Question
Silently ask yourself, “Who am I?” or “To whom do these thoughts arise?”
3. Observe Thoughts and Feelings
Observe any thoughts, feelings, or sensations that arise in response to the question. Instead of engaging with them, use them as pointers to return to the inquiry.
4. Trace Back to the Source
Whenever a thought arises, trace it back to its source by asking, “To whom does this thought occur?” The answer will usually be “To me” or “To I.” Then ask, “Who am I?” again.
5. Rest in the Self
The practice is not about finding an intellectual answer but about sinking into the sense of being and the awareness of the self. Rest in the feeling of “I am” without attaching it to any attributes or identifications.
Benefits of Atma Vichara
- Self-Realization: The primary benefit is the realisation of the true self, leading to a profound sense of peace and liberation from the false ego.
- Emotional Healing: By uncovering the true self, individuals can experience emotional healing and freedom from psychological suffering.
- Enhanced Mindfulness: The practice cultivates a deep state of mindfulness and presence, requiring continuous attention to the inner experience.
- Spiritual Growth: Atma Vichara is a direct path to spiritual growth and enlightenment in the Advaita Vedanta tradition.
Conclusion
Atma Vichara is a powerful practice of self-inquiry that seeks to uncover the true nature of the self beyond the ego and mind. It is a central practice in Advaita Vedanta for realising one’s true identity as pure consciousness. By persistently questioning the nature of the “I” thought, practitioners can experience profound spiritual insights and liberation.
Vichāra (Sanskrit: विचार) means deliberation; its root is वि (prefix to verbs and nouns it expresses) – चर् (to move, roam, obtain knowledge of). It is the faculty of discrimination between right and wrong; it is deliberation about cause and effect, and the final analysis.
To whom is this experience arising?
The I I (I AM) that sheds its mortal coil.
Nondual evolutionary catholicism. https://youtu.be/-uBN2bh2rjs?feature=shared
Given the complexity of one human life, the ups and downs, the ins and outs, the idea that I am permanently impacting someone with my thoughts is just a horror show. Expand that by the number of lives that have been lived, and you have a chaos. You can imagine it, but the implications of it as a reality are horrific. To sit there and say it with a smile seems to be unaware of the implications.
I hear you. Arjuna couldn’t stand it when Krishna showed Himself to him. Arjuna asked Krishna to end the divine vision.
The universal form of Krishna is vast and awe-inspiring, encompassing all of creation. It is described as having countless faces, eyes, and arms, and being adorned with divine ornaments and weapons. The sheer scale and majesty of this form are beyond human comprehension.
Along with the divine beauty, Krishna’s universal form also includes terrifying aspects. Arjuna sees scenes of destruction, with gods, demigods, and countless beings perishing. The form includes images of time and death, illustrating the ultimate destiny of all living beings. This vision of cosmic destruction is frightening and overwhelming.
The vision includes a multitude of beings and forms all at once, showing past, present, and future simultaneously. Arjuna witnesses the entirety of the universe’s cycle within Krishna, which is beyond the capacity of human perception and understanding.
In simple terms, Arjuna’s senses and brain hurt …
I know the feeling. Arjuna’s dilemma has been my own. I’m in recovery. Under a non-dual tent.
I believe that life is often a compromise between the situation we are born into and the chances we get. We make mistakes along the way that we only recognise in review but can’t undo. Our maturation and socialisation often depend on our environment, and when we want to change things, our choices are often restricted. I, for example, tried to get into nursing at 25, but we were unable to finance the vocational training, so I was 38 before it worked out and I finally had a feeling of doing some good. I’ve known many people who have done their best in such a situation.
As weak as it is, my example is just one of millions. I know people whose lives were messed up as children or after puberty who have struggled to get on their feet despite living in a supposedly social climate, and there are even more people living in worse conditions and even poverty. I have difficulty with people who live in the West who are indirectly critical of people who have problems coming to terms with reality as we have encountered. People who are struggling with nature to bring food to the table, let alone a balanced diet. People who haven’t the peace of mind to stand in awe at the Oneness of it all are struggling to survive.
Therefore, the awful experience of Krishna’s reality, as impressive as it is supposed to be, leaves me thinking that it is also a “finger pointing to the moon” and how capable we will be of facing such a reality after we leave our mortal coil will just have to be seen when it comes around.
From what I have read while emphasising the ultimate reality of non-duality, Advaita Vedanta does not dismiss the experience of suffering in the empirical world. Advaita Vedanta distinguishes between empirical reality (vyavaharika) and ultimate reality (paramarthika). While suffering is considered part of the empirical world, this does not negate its impact on individuals. The teachings of Advaita recognise the reality of suffering from the standpoint of everyday existence and offer ways to alleviate it.
Adherents of Advaita Vedanta are encouraged to act with compassion and engage in ethical behaviour. Realising non-duality naturally leads to empathy and a sense of responsibility toward alleviating the suffering of others. The Bhagavad Gita, for instance, teaches selfless action (karma yoga) as a means to serve others and reduce suffering.
The wise, those who have realised the non-dual nature of reality, play a crucial role in the world. Their wisdom and compassion can guide others, providing solace, support, and practical solutions to alleviate suffering. The presence of such individuals can have a transformative effect on society.
While the immediate benefits of wisdom might seem small compared to the vastness of suffering, its transformative potential is profound. Wisdom can change perspectives, leading to a reduction in fear, attachment, and ego-driven conflicts. Advaita Vedanta offers practical tools, such as meditation, self-inquiry, and devotion, to help individuals cope with and transcend suffering. These practices can lead to inner peace, resilience, and a deeper understanding of the nature of existence, which can mitigate the impact of suffering. Over time, this can significantly reduce suffering at both individual and collective levels.
Therefore, Advaita Vedanta does not advocate passivity in the face of suffering. Instead, it encourages active engagement in the world, informed by wisdom. This means addressing the root causes of suffering, such as ignorance, greed, and injustice, through compassionate and wise actions. The realisation of non-duality highlights the interconnectedness of all beings. This understanding fosters a deep sense of solidarity and responsibility, motivating individuals to work for the well-being of others as they recognise the shared nature of existence.
While Advaita Vedanta emphasises the ultimate spiritual goal, it also recognises the need for material support. Wise individuals and communities often engage in charitable activities, education, healthcare, and social justice work to provide immediate relief and long-term solutions to those who suffer. Advaita Vedanta offers a path to alleviate suffering and promote a more harmonious existence by fostering compassion, ethical action, and a deep understanding of non-duality. The journey toward wisdom is not just about personal enlightenment but also about contributing to the well-being of all beings.
The future is not yet. Therefore it is nothing. Nothing comes from nothing. The past is no more. Therefore, it is nothing. Again nothing comes from nothing. The present is a point without duration. Therefore it is unattainable. You are eternal.
Swami Vivekananda tells the story of a poor man who wanted some money; and somehow he had heard that if he could get hold of a ghost, he might command him to bring money or anything else he liked; so he was very anxious to get hold of a ghost. He went about searching for a man who would give him a ghost, and at last he found a sage with great powers, and besought his help. The sage asked him what he would do with a ghost. “I want a ghost to work for me; teach me how to get hold of one, sir; I desire it very much,” replied the man. But the sage said, “Don’t disturb yourself, go home.” The next day the man went again to the sage and began to weep and pray, “Give me a ghost; I must have a ghost, sir, to help me.” At last the sage was disgusted, and said, “Take this charm, repeat this magic word, and a ghost will come, and whatever you say to him he will do. But beware; they are terrible beings, and must be kept continually busy. If you fail to give him work, he will take your life.” The man replied, “That is easy; I can give him work for all his life.” Then he went to a forest, and after long repetition of the magic word, a huge ghost appeared before him, and said, “I am a ghost. I have been conquered by your magic; but you must keep me constantly employed. The moment you fail to give me work I will kill you.” The man said, “Build me a palace,”, and the ghost said, “It is done; the palace is built.” “Bring me money,” said the man. “Here is your money,” said the ghost. “Cut this forest down, and build a city in its place.” “That is done,” said the ghost, “anything more?” Now the man began to be frightened and thought he could give him nothing more to do; he did everything in a trice. The ghost said, “Give me something to do or I will eat you up.” The poor man could find no further occupation for him, and was frightened. So he ran and ran and at last reached the sage, and said, “Oh, sir, protect my life!” The sage asked him what the matter was, and the man replied, “I have nothing to give the ghost to do. Everything I tell him to do he does in a moment, and he threatens to eat me up if I do not give him work.” Just then the ghost arrived, saying, “I’ll eat you up,” and he would have swallowed the man. The man began to shake, and begged the sage to save his life. The sage said, “I will find you a way out. Look at that dog with a curly tail. Draw your sword quickly and cut the tail off and give it to the ghost to straighten out.” The man cut off the dog’s tail and gave it to the ghost, saying, “Straighten that out for me.” The ghost took it and slowly and carefully straightened it out, but as soon as he let it go, it instantly curled up again. Once more he laboriously straightened it out, only to find it again curled up as soon as he attempted to let go of it. Again he patiently straightened it out, but as soon as he let it go, it curled up again. So he went on for days and days, until he was exhausted and said, “I was never in such trouble before in my life. I am an old veteran ghost, but never before was I in such trouble.” “I will make a compromise with you;” he said to the man, “you let me off and I will let you keep all I have given you and will promise not to harm you.” The man was much pleased, and accepted the offer gladly.
This world is like a dog’s curly tail, and people have been striving to straighten it out for hundreds of years; but when they let it go, it has curled up again. How could it be otherwise?
One must first know how to work without attachment, then one will be free of despair. When we know that this world is like a dog’s curly tail and will never get straightened, we shall not become attached to our work.?If there were no fanaticism in the world, it would make much more progress than it does now. Fanatical self righteousness is a retarding element creating hatred and anger, and causing people to fight each other, and making them unsympathetic. We think that whatever we do or possess is the best in the world, and what we do not do or possess is of no value. So, always remember the instance of the curly tail of the dog whenever you have a tendency to despair for the world. Consciousness is not attached to the world. Karma yoga is about doing the best without being attached to the outcome. In theistic terms, one loses oneself, in service of others, the beloved.
So, in answer to
You offer me a story Swami Vivekananda told about a poor man who wanted money. Okay, I don’t see the connection, but I’ll play along. The story is a common analogy in which the poor man’s wishes get out of control. The solution is to give the ghost an impossible task.
The lesson follows: "One must first know how to work without attachment, then one will be free of despair.” This is the second jump away from what I was saying for me, as though contributing to the well-being of all beings is always “attachment.”
I was a nurse in geriatric care. People in my care always died because they were old and terminally ill, so I am quite used to working for small improvements without expecting someone to grow young or healthy again. The way I understand it, working without attachment means focusing on performing one’s duty (dharma) diligently and selflessly, without being overly concerned with the outcomes.
My team and I once succumbed to the attachment to the results of our actions, which often stems from ego and personal desires, when we received a patient who was 42 years old, who had suffered a stroke during an operation, and we desperately wanted to help her return home to her husband. We had succeeded in helping the house priest recover enough from a stroke, that he could continue his ministry, only dependent on a walking frame. When the young patient died, I realised that our ego and personal desires had taken a blow and had to get the team back on course.
I had to show them that detachment doesn’t mean indifference or lack of care. Empathy can sometimes have us suffering with a patient, which prevents us from doing our best. Instead, we must understand that while we have control over our actions, many factors beyond our control often influence the results. Accepting this helped reduce anxiety and stress related to outcomes, and the team was focused once more.
Learning to work without attachment is about adopting a mindset and approach to life where actions are performed with full dedication and sincerity but without the bondage of personal gain or loss. It’s about focusing on the process rather than the outcome, leading to greater mental clarity, inner peace, and spiritual growth.
So therefore, I return to the need for
Yes. Where does the concentration it takes to do that come from?
I focus not on the man who wanted money but the puppy’s “tail” —that elusive aspect of nature that is ever beyond human control. In some contexts they call it freedom. In others, pain and suffering. Ramakrishna called it “Mother” even when it brought him the throat cancer that ended his life.
My experience of that situation told me that relaxing into the idea that it was okay the way it was (is), giving up the attachment, releasing the dependency, and taking each step as we go along was the secret. However, what transpired was the fact that at least I had a path in the dark, or a light in the dark, on which I orientated myself.
I know many things are beyond my control, but I need a reference point to help me move on. That guiding star may be dim, but it gives me a direction. I always used to say that there is always a way. We just have to find it. The problem is that there are many people whose own attachment tries to suppress that light, who tell you that you have the wrong priorities and that you need more ambition and more desire to motivate you. That is where I dropped out.
In a way, I became what Erich Fromm called a “healthy neuroticist,” who couldn’t remain psychologically healthy in a sick environment. We plod on, doing what we can, but find consolation in the fact that it will end at some time. A premature descent to death is depression, but an acceptance of the inevitable allows life to play out and continue doing what we can.
If Ramakrishna named it “mother,” that’s okay. I wouldn’t use that name at this point in my life because it is associated with a particular person, but we have become used to using “father” in that context, and I am comfortable with that. Guanyin is a Bodhisattva associated with compassion that I have used in my meditation.
In Ramakrishna’s case “Mother” was Kali who became real to him when he was the priest in her temple.
“I suddenly felt that it was all the same to me whether the world existed or whether there had never been anything at all: I began to feel with all my being that there was nothing existing. At first I fancied that many things had existed in the past, but afterwards I guessed that there never had been anything in the past either, but that it had only seemed so for some reason. Little by little I guessed that there would be nothing in the future either. Then I left off being angry with people and almost ceased to notice them. Indeed this showed itself even in the pettiest trifles: I used, for instance, to knock against people in the street. And not so much from being lost in thought: what had I to think about? I had almost given up thinking by that time; nothing mattered to me. If at least I had solved my problems! Oh, I had not settled one of them, and how many there were! But I gave up caring about anything, and all the problems disappeared.”
― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Dream of a Ridiculous Man
The conditions for your existence are almost as old as the rocks. For thousands of years men have striven and suffered and begotten and women have brought forth in pain. A hundred years ago, perhaps, another man sat on this spot; like you he gazed with awe and yearning in his heart at the dying light of the glaciers. Like you he was begotten of man and born of woman. He felt pain and brief joy as you do. Was he someone else? Was it not you yourself? What is this Self of yours? What was the necessary condition for making the thing conceived this time into you, just you and not someone else? What clearly intelligible scientific meaning can this ‘someone else’ really have? If she who is now your mother had cohabited with someone else and had a son by him, and your father had done likewise, would you have come to be? Or were you living in them, and in your father’s father… thousands of years ago? And even if this is so, why are you not your brother, why is your brother not you, why are you not one of your distant cousins? What justifies you in obstinately discovering this difference — the difference between you and someone else — when objectively what is there is the same?
[…]
Inconceivable as it seems to ordinary reason, you — and all other conscious beings as such — are all in all. Hence this life of yours which you are living is not merely a piece of the entire existence, but is in a certain sense the whole.
Erwin Schrödinger (August 12, 1887–January 4, 1961) in My View of the World (public library)