Greater Than I

 Martin Luther King, Jr. is famously quoted as saying: “If you have never found something so dear and so precious to you that you will die for it, then you aren’t fit to live.”

Few people are asked to reach this height of sacrifice but there are very few exceptions to life’s invitation to give oneself to a greater reality. For most it is their family; for many, a friend or a career; to a few, their community or even their country; and for fewer still, to the search for God and for truth.

Such a man who gave his all to God and the work of his guru was Swami Kriyananda. Despite condemnation and fierce opposition at times and despite having no outside financial backing, Swami Kriyananda gave his enormous intellect, will, devotion and energy to serving the work of Paramhansa Yogananda. He founded what became the worldwide spiritual work and communities of Ananda. His legacy included an entire new genre of music and a veritable library of books and countless recordings of talks and classes. The memory of his service and divine friendship has been attested to by numerous followers in books and talks that have been published posthumously.

In the footsteps of the Old Testament prophets, the apostles, saints and martyrs, perfection isn’t a prerequisite to dedication and personal sacrifice. No one could deny the inherent talent and vibrant energy that Swamiji possessed. Yet, when offered at the feet of his guru and his dharma, those talents multiplied like the “talent” in the biblical parable.

September 12, 1948, the young Don Walters met Paramhansa Yogananda and said those inimitable words, “I want to be your disciple.” Words which even he could not have imagined but a week prior to when he had read Yogananda’s now famous life story: “Autobiography of a Yogi.”  It is in honor of that date that I write these words.

It is not uncommon that a person’s worth is more greatly esteemed long after his passing. This is not because a person’s shortcomings are too obvious during his life, but the personality, mannerisms, and appearance of a person act as distractions to their inner spirit. That spirit is felt more clearly when seen in its proper perspective: its consequences upon one’s life and the world around.

As I foresee entering the distinguished ranks of the elderly, I see that it matters less that Ananda, the work Swami Kriyananda founded, flourishes or withers. The measure of a man is not material success or popularity so much as the degree of self-sacrifice to a greater good. While martyrdom isn’t the hallmark characteristic of devotees of Self-realization in this age, Swami Kriyananda certainly experienced a form of martyrdom apropos to the age we live in: the courtroom and the courtroom of social media. But that dark era is long behind us and the shining spirit of his soul’s greatness illuminates his memory ever more with each year’s passing.

Nonetheless, Martin Luther King’s statement about self-sacrifice holds true for everyone at least to some degree. Parents, employees, devotees: all are asked to give ourselves to something “greater than I.”

On the spiritual path this takes the most common form of one’s religion. But for those whose lives aspire to sanctity and not just conformance to rules and rituals it takes the form of discipleship. There are few exceptions because the effort it takes to achieve sanctity is entirely personal. That the goal of that aspiration would acquire a human form should not surprise us. It is no coincidence, moreover, that escaping the prison of ego should require that we give our ego to the (seeming) ego of a God-realized soul. Few religiously minded people are prepared to do this except, perhaps, “in principle.”

This is precisely, however, how Swami Kriyananda lived his life. He aspired to be a “good disciple.” Not a teacher; not a guru, but a good disciple. In this he had no pretense of being perfect, but he had an unwavering conviction that his guru had the power to liberate him from the ego-prison. As Krishna promises in the Bhagavad Gita, “I make good your deficiencies and render permanent your (spiritual) gains.”

It is Swami Kriyananda’s example of discipleship, more than even his “good works,” that I honor as his greatest gift.

Hear ye, hear ye! Tales of Hearing Loss

 

Hearing loss has taught me many things about speech and communication. I’ve gained an appreciation of the value of projecting one’s voice; of speaking clearly, slowly, in complete sentences while making eye contact with another person. I have let go of the pleasure of witty repartee and of the expectation that one can have meaningful communication in noisy or crowded situations.

“Hear” are some of the observations I’ve made while coping with hearing loss:  

1.   Hearing is different than understanding. The spoken word consists of sounds, but the meaning of those sounds is what is important. Understanding is not necessarily a matter of the loudness of a person’s voice. It also includes the clarity of thought that is transferred to speech, enunciation, sentence structure, and context. One who speaks a language that is foreign to the listener may be loud enough to be heard but the listener may have no clue as to their meaning if he doesn’t speak that language.

2.   What we see or hear is partly determined by what we expect to see and hear. As hearing loss grows the brain begins to fill in the gaps with what it expects is being said. The result can be a minor misunderstanding; an amusing one; or, a disaster.

3.   It is not necessarily difficult to understand a person who stands in front of you; who makes eye contact with you and who speaks intentionally with something to say. However, like the big trucks that carry a sign “If you can’t see my mirror, I can’t see you,” if I cannot see your eyes, my hearing loss may eviscerate my understanding of your words.

4.   Many sounds, consonants, and vowels are soft and difficult to distinguish. Enunciation with patterned speech (rather than monotone speech pattern) can make a significant difference.

5.   Names and pronouns are a deadly mix when more than one person is being referenced. Best to use the name of the person or object and avoid or limit the use of pronouns. With society moving towards pronouns like “they” instead of “he” or “she” it becomes even more difficult to link the name to the pronoun.

6.   Hearing loss impacts cognitive understanding, partly, I suppose because the strain to hear triggers tension or frustration which interferes with and worsens comprehension. (It is true, but easier said than done, that calm, sensitive listening enhances understanding.) 

7.   Beginning a conversation, or a new topic in a conversation, with the KEY WORD of the topic such as the name of the person, place, or object to be discussed is to risk leaving your listener in the dust of wondering who or what you are now suddenly talking about. The brain needs a moment to adjust to the introduction of a new topic. An easy solution is to give an introductory phrase or sentence to signal a change in topic. Examples of introductory phrases to introduce a new subject or change the subject can be throw-away phrases such as: “By the way, I wanted to mention something about so-and-so.” Or: “On different topic, I was thinking about XXXXX.” Thus, the KEY word isn’t stated FIRST in your sentence when your listener has no reason to expect it.

8.   The English language is structured loosely but generally follows the pattern of subject-verb-object. Throw in an adverb or an adjective now and then and we’re ok. But some speakers speak before they think, “so-to-speak,” and their sentences are all a jumble of words. While this can reflect incoherent brain patterns in the speaker, the result for a listener with hearing loss can be very disjointed. Frequent insertion of parenthetical thoughts on unrelated topics makes things worse. Speaking slowly and clearly (one thought at a time) allows for communication to be satisfying to both parties. Some people don’t use complete sentences at all, but tend to “bark,” “chirp,” or “blurt out” sounds or phrases. This pattern is more deeply embedded in people’s brain, chemistry, breath, and habits and is much more difficult to change. ADHD sufferers would be good examples of folks whose words just come tumbling out in all directions. There’s no easy fix to this but, just to acknowledge the reality, there are people whose conversation I simply cannot follow even when I hear their words.

9.   In a car, most of us speak facing forward and not necessarily turning to the other person. Given the loud noise of the street, engine and outside sounds, car conversations are difficult if the speech is directed to the window or the back of the front seat. Being confined to the back seat all but guarantees no participation in conversations from the front seat.

10.                Fortunately, very few people turn their backs on their listeners and continue speaking as they walk away. But I have known one or two friends who have the habit of doing this: as they walk away from you, they continue talking! This is neither polite nor effective.

11.                Some people are “all ears” and hear, whether they want to or not, the conversations going on around them. But others pay no attention and those with hearing loss usually have no choice in the matter. Calling someone by name may or may not get their attention if they’ve trained their brains to ignore general speech around them. If you wish to speak to me, first get my attention by addressing me by name and to my face, thus indicating a desire to speak to me!

12.                I never realized until dealing with hearing loss how many ventriloquists exist in the world: people who speak without moving their lips or without any air passing through them! I don’t know how they can be so unaware or not notice how often others ask them either to speak up or repeat themselves. Some people are, I assume, simply shy; others may be unsure of themselves and even lack confidence in their own statements. Some may be accustomed to talking out loud to themselves without regard to whether anyone else hears or cares. Are you one such person?

13.                Some cultures and some people speak very fast. Other languages or individuals add or drop vowels or consonants from words. Italians add an ‘a’ to the end of words while some Hindi or other speakers drop the ‘a’ at the end. (“Yoga” is sometimes written and pronounced in India as simply “yog.”). For clarity of speech, adding a sound is better than dropping one.

14.                Swami Kriyananda (my teacher) pointed out the tendency of speakers to drop the pitch and volume of words at the end of either the sentence or the word. Perhaps because they’ve run out of breath or energy, and they “swallow” the last word. A solution to this common tendency is to raise the pitch at the end. It makes for more interesting and clear communication. (This is related to diaphragmatic breathing, keeping the chest up and like trained singers, speaking consciously.)

15.                I like to joke that I can eat, talk, or listen but I can only do one of these at a time. So, when sharing a meal, I either need to chew, listen to you, or speak but only one of these at a time!

16.                Monotone speakers are either dull or maybe just sound dull as if slightly drugged. Without some variation in emphasis, for example emphasizing a key word like a person’s name, such speakers risk being ignored. Like Italians famous for talking with their hands, some liveliness, color, and modulation in speech is both effective and interesting.

17.                Suffice to say, I must walk a line between saying “What” so frequently that I might be mistaken for a parrot; or, simply staying out of many conversations and miss valuable sharing. There are numerous conversations I refrain from entering or I just simply smile and nod or offer some monosyllabic utterance to indicate that I’m still conscious. I have all too frequently listened to someone speaking and not even had a clue what they were talking about. Sad, but true.

18.                Despite both their expense and sophistication, hearing aids, while essential for many of us, can NEVER substitute for natural and efficient hearing.

19.                Captions are a great gift to humanity! There are movies out there whose directors seem to specialize in hiring ventriloquists. My phone now has captioning: yeah!

20.                It is simply amazing to me that humans EVER understand each other. It seems that communication is like a game of chance, or to misquote Forrest, Forrest Gump, like a box of chocolates (“You never know what you’re gonna’ hear.”). 

 

Thank you for “listening” even though I have no expectations as to this changing the conversations I encounter. 

 My favorite chant these days is “Listen, listen, listen” by Paramhansa Yogananda.

 

Swami Hrimananda

What is the Self of Self-Realization?

 

(I recently conducted a four-week course called "What is the Self of Self-realization." This article is a summary of the key points of that course.)

What does Paramhansa Yogananda, author of the now spiritual classic, Autobiography of a Yogi, say about this?

·        In his famous poem, “Samadhi,” he describes a vision of the universe as residing at the heart-center. Yogananda writes: “I cognized the center of the empyrean as a point of intuitive perception in my heart. Irradiating splendor issued from my nucleus to every part of the universal structure. Blissful amrita, the nectar of immortality, pulsed through me with a quicksilver like fluidity. The creative voice of God I heard resounding as Aum, the vibration of the Cosmic Motor.” Later he adds: “Spiritual sight, x-raylike, penetrates into all matter; the divine eye is center everywhere, circumference nowhere.”

·        In the same chapter of his autobiography, he describes his experience in prose rather than poetry, and it is similar: the experience takes him beyond the mortal frame and able to “see” through all things surrounding him and then beyond into final Bliss.

 In translating the word for the ultimate reality of Brahman, SATCHIDANANDAM, Yogananda added the phrase “ever-new” to “Ananda” or bliss. Thus, God (Brahman) is “ever-existing, ever-conscious, ever-new bliss.” Immortal, omnipresent, omniscient, immanent in all creation and of the nature of Bliss, this is the ultimate state of Being.

·        Swami Kriyananda, founder of Ananda worldwide and a direct disciple commissioned by Yogananda, describes unconditional love as “bliss in motion.”

·        Yogananda describes the process of ascension as experiencing the primordial “Word,” Aum, first in the body, then beyond the body, and then in all space; then entering Christ consciousness, the reflected bliss state, in the body and then in all creation; then, finally, beyond this into Cosmic Consciousness, Infinite Bliss and beyond all creation.

We humans are prone to see a goal as “out there.” God, the Father, then is seen “out there” in heaven (above). Heaven, itself, is “out there.” Death conveys us to that “place.”

Yogananda’s translation of Satchidanandam incorporates references to both stillness and perpetual change and motion. Yogananda was a bhakti who worshipped God in the form of Goddess Kali. He saw God in the form of his guru, and the other gurus of his lineage as well. His poetry celebrates the divinity hiding within nature and within all beings. Yet he also taught that the goal of our soul is to unite with our Creator, Satchidanandam.

Advaita Vedanta, classical nonduality, speaks of that state, Brahman, as the essence of all created things and yet is untouched by or unchanged by all created things; as if existing both within and apart from all change. This is the "both-and formula" but Advaita Vedanta expresses a clear and even severe preference for Brahman Untouched and Beyond all name, form, and change.

Again, we are led to an impression of Brahman as somehow apart, notwithstanding protestations to the contrary. One who “knows” Brahman is one who has experienced the transcendent reality of Brahman. This transcendent state is, relative to ordinary consciousness, “out there.” It is beyond ordinary consciousness even if it resides within or at the heart of all things and consciousness. It is difficult, logically at least, to wish-away the innate duality of this non-dual definition.

While the attribute of the eternal and changeless Brahman (or God) satisfies our need for a First Cause which is without beginning or end (and beyond change), it tends to imply to us that it is somewhere else; that it is something else; that it is NOT name and form. This is merely a logical deduction. Logically how can that which is ceaseless change be that which is not ceaseless change. There’s no escaping this: logically.

When Yogananda added the “ever-new” he opened a doorway to a modified view. How can bliss be “ever-new” unless it is ever changing, ever-freshly experienced? It might not change its nature as Bliss but being ever-new suggests something has been re-experienced and refreshed.

It is taught that the universe is brought into and out of manifestation over vast epochs of time. Could this “rhythmic reversion” be an eternal flux, an integral part of Satchidanandam? Can Satchidanandam be ever-new, both-and, encompassing change and changelessness simultaneously?

It’s not that we should suddenly worship change, worship the creation AS Brahman. It is always God AS immanent within change, not the change itself. God the “Father” is that aspect untouched and the origin of creation; God the “son” is that part of God the Father reflected at the still point of vibratory creation; God as “mother” or “Holy Ghost” is the very vibratory foundation of all created things. It is the “Word,” the primordial vibratory movement that produces the sound called the cosmic Amen or Aum that makes possible the illusion or the appearance of all things being separate. All created things are vibrating with energy. Energy is the mother of creation and, as such, is in ceaseless flux.

Therefore, nothing exists outside of God; outside of Consciousness, even if the spectrum of degrees of consciousness and self-awareness vary greatly.

Yogananda says that when we achieve moksha and our soul is freed from all delusion and karma we enter Satchidanandam and no longer are forced to reincarnate to learn new lessons. He also re-affirmed the teaching that for one to become free one must (help) free other souls (he said, at least six other souls). He added that one of those souls whom one has helped can, by the power of their devotion, call our form (in vision or in physical form) back out of Infinity into view. This can even take place if we have reincarnated into a different name and form. Our soul's essence, you see, is eternal and changeless. God, as our soul, will appear to the sincere devotee in whatever form and by whatever name is dear to the devotee.

He goes on to say that in God (Satchidanandam) nothing is ever lost. How can Infinity be anything less than everything past, present and future? All our past lives of misidentification exist in God but “we”, our divine essence as the Atman, are no longer identified with such experiences. The “we” must be that part of God which achieves Self-realization.

Perhaps Yogananda is saying that we, a drop in the sea, can still be extruded from the sea by the magnetic pull of other drops who remain yet self-enclosed.

Patanjali describes the state of yoga as the cessation of mental reactions (thoughts, memories, imagination and reactions etc.). Not unlike Buddhist language, this is a negative description: what yoga (enlightenment) is NOT. By contrast, Yogananda’s poem (Samadhi) and the description he gives of his own actual experience is positive. (By negative/positive I don’t mean good/bad. Rather the former says what it is not and the latter describes what it is like.)

Then there is the well-known Zen expression: “Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.”

So, which is it? Negative or positive? The former sounds rather prosaic, or at least extremely stoical while the latter seems like a hallucinogenic LSD trip. Since Infinity encompasses a rather broad spectrum of possibilities (tongue-in-cheek), I can only conclude that it is BOTH-AND.

What seems clear is that it is not the content of enlightenment but the consciousness of enlightenment: the absence of ego involvement combined with the fullness of awareness. Whether that awareness is simply “in the moment and here and now” or coursing through the galaxies or immersed in cosmic bliss is a “mere” matter of content. Since awareness is always “of the self or Self” there is always “someone there” but the difference between the “someone” and the “something” (the experience) is irrelevant. As the Samadhi poem puts it: “Knowing, knower, known as One!”

Thus, Yogananda’s experience in cosmic consciousness can vary from seeing through a stone wall to observe a cow, to observing “sextillion worlds passed by in diaphanous lustre” or to an experience of an “oceanic joy upon calm endless shores of my soul.”

Enlightenment literature also refers to an experience of a darkless dark or a lightless light when every “thing” has vanished and only a void remains. Yet self-awareness persists. The implication is that this experience is not permanent or final. How could ultimate consciousness be a “nothing?” At minimum, it is self-aware, and such a state is a positive one. The only negative aspect is that there are no objects—whether subjective or objective—perceived by this Self. The Self isn't an object; it is an experience.

In any case, doesn't the so-called “survival instinct” form the foundation of consciousness? It would seem to be so in the famous definition of God as Satchidananda: ever-existing, ever-conscious, ever-new Bliss. How could such a state be a negative one? How could such a state aspire to nothingness?

“When this “I” shall die, then shall I know, who am I!” declared Paramhansa Yogananda. The death of ego is the birth of the soul. And, of course, technically, nothing dies. Instead, the ego expands beyond its self-imposed prison of body and mind. But the discipline needed to curb the ego’s impulses suggests a kind of annihilation and, as such, is emphasized in religion and by great saints, especially during the dark age of the Kali Yuga. (700 BCE – 1700 CE)

The medieval emphasis on ego-annihilation is now, in Dwapara Yuga (1700 – 3100 CE) being transmuted into ego transcendence by means of Self-expansion. The consciousness of these times is expansive, not contractive. We are eagerly exploring the atom, space, and all facets of nature and consciousness.

Who now sees joy and fulfillment in suffering? We all suffer by the nature of duality; so, equanimity and faith are of course perennially important. But in these times, we seek fulfillment. Most people seek fulfillment of their material desires, but devotees seek divine grace knowing that God’s nature (and our own) is joy. We seek “true joy” as St. Francis put it, or at least calm acceptance when suffering must needs come. Medieval spirituality mistook the suffering for the joy of the soul, as if suffering were the point.

This error in perception was born of the Kali Yuga consciousness and was the natural result of the intense suffering by crucifixion of Jesus. Yet, the same attitude existed in the East during the medieval period. Why? Because during such times (Kali Yuga), suffering was the dominant experience of life. But now humanity has an expectation of a better life even when for so many people today it hasn't arrived yet for them. That expectation did not and could not exist during the past two thousand years or so. Now, when we turn to God, we perceive the goal in terms of fulfillment rather than denial.

I come at last to my denouement: that enlightenment is not limited to any form but is a state of consciousness; it exists free from unfulfilled desires or fears; free from the limits of personality, habits, or self-definitions of any kind. Free from any definition or form. Truth simply IS. This does not intend to imply that anything less than union with the Infinite qualifies as enlightenment; it is, instead, only to say that no fixed state or experience can define the very nature of reality and truth.

A suggested meditation practice: At any time during your day, “stop, look, and listen” as the old-time railroad crossing signs commanded. Stop what you are doing; look straight ahead, take a slow but "happy" breath; gaze outward embracing whatever enters your field of vision; silently open the door of your heart; let all inner self-talk, thoughts and emotions subside as the Christ within you commands the stormy sea of the mind and body to be calm. Rest in this poise. Repeat as often as you are inspired to do so. Teach the mind and heart to be still, leaving behind body and ego activity. Expand your field of Self to include all that surrounds you.

Aum, peace, amen.

Nayaswami Hriman