Why Me?
Who has not wondered “Why me” when destiny casts a shadow across
the path of one’s life? Even without the extremes of human suffering and
tragedy, there are the disappointments, heartbreaks, and disillusionments
experienced by most people.
After whatever initial response is required in the moment,
the first question too often asked is “Why?” Ironically, it’s the most
difficult question to answer with any certainty. Even if there may be a specific
answer, it generally won’t come until we’ve had some psychic distance (usually
in time and space).
The “why” question
can sometimes be a manifestation of the stage of denial because stopping to
ponder, doubt, rail in anger and to contemplate this question paralyzes taking
action and positive steps. (This isn’t always true because in the
infinite variety of human circumstances and consciousness there’s virtually nothing
that’s always!)
Nonetheless the hurt expressed in the question (and it is a
question I hear often) postpones the inevitable and necessary stages of acceptance
and redemption. As a teacher of metaphysical concepts in the lineage of raja
yoga, the question of “Why has God created us (or this world, or suffering, or
. . . . ) is a constant feature on the landscape of my daily life.
Paramhansa Yogananda, author of “Autobiography of a Yogi,” responded
to such questions in various ways but one of those responses was “You will know
when you will know.” He would counter that the more practical question is “What
can do I about it?” On other occasions he would comment that when we achieve
our true destiny (oneness with the “Father”), He will reveal all to us and we,
like others who have gone before us, will say, “What a wonderful show — the
greatest story ever told!”
An example Yogananda would give in this vein was to point
out how when reading a novel, play or watching a great classic movie we might
laugh and cry with comedy and tragedy, and then, leaving the theatre or putting
down the book, we say: “That was a great story. I learned so much!” But, he
would point out, how few of us can look at our own life with such a perspective?
Are we not simply one out of billions (and billions who have ever walked this
one planet, earth)? Even if every life is unique, do we not share essentially
the same hopes, dreams, and tragedies, at least relative to our own frame of
reference? Are not the crises of last year, last month, or yesterday, all but
forgotten today? Yes, but . . . .
And so it is that the human heart, when broken, needs time
to heal and time to find perspective. Yogananda once wrote that “the drama of
life has for its lesson that it is simply that: a drama.”
But why do we suffer? I mean: in time, we can usually let a
hurt go, cant’ we? The pain, at least, subsides, doesn’t it? If we can recover
later, why not sooner? But why don’t we?
An animal may suffer but to a large and observable degree
not as much as we. A child raised in a wealthy home with comforts will suffer
more from a physical injury than the toughened street-wise kid or farmer’s
child. Ironically, however, it may be true that the less self-aware we are the
less we suffer, but suffering serves as an incentive to probe into the source
of our suffering and to search for how to relieve or not repeat it. The street kid
or farmer is less likely to go on in life in response to his suffering and do
something about it, whether for himself or perhaps for others, or simply in a
creative response to a setback, he may accomplish something worthwhile. It is
an axiom of modern culture that the artist, writer, scientist, or saint is
spurred to his particular form of creative genius by overcoming setbacks or
tragedy early in life.
There appears to be in every form of consciousness (but let’s
stick with our own, human awareness, for now) a innate impulse to avoid
suffering and to seek happiness. This easily verified tendency is directional.
It is relative. For one person, this aspect of human consciousness relates the sensory
level of pleasure and pain, acquired through food, sex, comforts, survival, and
self-defense. For others it takes the form of long-term, delayed gratification:
seeking an education, to be successful in business, career, family, or health,
or to achieve name and fame, respect, and money. Subtler still would be the
inner drive to create beauty, to bring healing to others, to be a peacemaker,
problem solver, protector or to accomplish worthwhile goals on a large(r) scale
than one's own needs. The spiritual seeker or devotee epitomizes perhaps the most
subtle, most elevated human striving, directionally: avoiding the pain of
ignorance and delusion and seeking the joy of God.
Thus we, at last, come to my real topic: the promise of the
scriptures; the promise of immortality; and the message of saints and sages in
all ages. This grand creation of billions of galaxies and our own individual birth
and existence is royally endowed with an impulse that goes far beyond mere
survival and procreation (whose necessity and usefulness is readily admitted).
It is the impulse towards greater consciousness; a dawning self-awareness; and,
ultimately, the attainment of untrammeled happiness, unending existence, and
knowledge that knows no bounds. In short we seek bliss, immortality, and
omniscience.
[The evolutionary biologist observes the instincts of
survival and procreation but cannot explain the “why?” Surely lower life forms,
and, indeed, humans for that matter, don’t trouble themselves to think in terms
of their genes dominating the gene pool for generations to come! To say that we
seek to survive is, at its most basic level, a value judgment that exceeds the
proper inquiry of science itself! The strictly rational scientist cannot truly
say that it is better to survive than not to survive. He can only say that it
appears, generally, to be a fact. Besides, another, equally important and unalterable
fact is that we don’t survive anyway. Death comes to all beings! Seems,
therefore, like plants, animals and humans are being, well, irrational!]
Who planted this seed of striving into our bosom? Could it be the same One who
has dreamed us into existence? The dogma-bound materialist must turn his back to us and walk
away, but you and I are under no such compulsion. The rishis tell us that as
all creation is a manifestation of consciousness (sparks of the Infinite
Consciousness, the only reality that truly IS), so we partake of the
intelligence, the impulse, the deeper-than-conscious knowing that perfection
(bliss, immortality, omniscience) is our native land.
But like the prodigal son in the famous story told by Jesus
Christ, we have long wandered in foreign lands of matter attachment. It takes
the famine of unhappiness to drive us inward and towards the remembrance of how
we once lived in our Father’s prosperous home. This beautiful and poignant
story — so familiar and so natural to the human heart — dispels all notion of a
vengeful God, ready to cast our souls into the eternal fires of hell. The
corollary to this grand vision of life’s purpose must be the one fact that
makes it all work: reincarnation!
Hell there certainly is, no doubt about it. We don’t need to
die to experience it, either. Look around you. Genocide, suicide, depression,
insanity, war, famine and plague! Look within you! The hell of anger, addictions, compelling
desires and lusts which can never be quenched and which burn us with their
fevers. So, too, the hell of violence which causes unending cycles of abuse,
generation after generation. There is, even, we are told, hellish astral
regions where souls whose lives on earth were evil, dark or selfish sojourn
until their next incarnation.
But the masters come into every age with a message of glad
tidings and good news. We are not that sinful, broken, and hurting creature. We
are not the body, the personality, our past, our hurts, our desires — we are a
child of God. We princes who are dreaming we are paupers. We need first to
desire an end to the cycle of birth, death, pleasure and pain! Then we must be
blessed by an awakening in order to remember our birthright; then we must
summon the will, humility, and courage to begin the journey, long or short,
back to our home in God: in our own Self.
Kriya yoga has been resurrected from priestly secrecy and
human indifference in response to souls crying in the wilderness and tired of
sectarianism, mere beliefs, and religious rivalries. “The time for knowing God
has come!” Paramhansa Yogananda declared.
Calmness, meditation, introspection, good works, devotion to
the Supreme Lord, and attunement to the Guru who is sent for our salvation:
these are the keys to the kingdom, to the secret garden of our own heart. Kriya
yoga is an efficacious accelerator of inner awakening. The time is now!
Blessings,
Nayaswami Hriman
