Easter Thoughts? And, why not?

I just finished a book on the spiritual life of Abraham Lincoln: "Lincoln's Battle with God" (Mansfield). The author describes how Lincoln, as a young man, questioned his Christian faith, made light of buffoon-like-ministers, decried sectarianism, dogmatism, and all the craziness that abounds in the name of religion. Lincoln openly and publicly cast doubt upon and scoffed at passages in the Bible. He wrote, but was wisely advised by friends not to publish, a tract essentially declaring himself a "scoffer." In his young adult years, his near-agnosticism and extreme use of reason haunted him, politically, all his life and beyond.

The narrative goes on, however, to trace Lincoln's "conversion" into a deep and abiding faith in God and love for the Bible. Nonetheless, he never joined any church and spoke but rarely of Jesus Christ. His widow, Mary Todd, however, claimed that seconds before her husband was shot by an assassin in Ford's Theater he was speaking to her about his desire, after retirement, to make a pilgrimage to Palestine, the land of our "Savior," as he put it.

Quotes from Lincoln's life are frustratingly at odds and often contradictory. But in this book old Abe is quoted as having remarked that no matter what doubts he might have in regard to the Bible, its clear spiritual authority and its overall positive and uplifting impact upon humanity simply makes it far easier and more reasonable to accept its sacred authority than to reject it. While the de facto thesis of the book, "Lincoln's Battle with God," was to show that Lincoln's faith evolved much further than this simple, tentative and reasoned conclusion, it nonetheless offers the example of a great and noble soul who, like many of our culture who go by the way reason and science, walked step-by-step from rejection toward the direction of a deeper understanding and acceptance of the Bible's true message.

After all, in our age of education, reason and scientific experimentation, and faced with the fractious and bickering and narrow mindedness of so many orthodox religionists, it is all to easy to dismiss the lot, throwing out "the baby with the bath water." Putting President Lincoln's example aside for a moment, let us move on to explore another perspective.

I have previously written about another book, "The Yugas," by authors Joseph Selbie and David Steinmetz. Padma and I recently conducted a 6 week class on this book. "The Yugas" presents to us a view of history that is nothing less than revolutionary. In a larger sense, however, its view is also classically ancient, and it is simply this: we humans once, long ago, lived in a golden age of enlightenment. We lived in harmony with one another and all life and with our creator. We spoke the one universal language of intuition and had mastery over the forces of nature and consciousness. This view, shared by every ancient civilization, averred that our planet goes through a cycle of many thousands of years (aligned to the "precession of the equinox") that takes us through an ascending as well descending cycle of spiritual wisdom and material knowledge and power.

Thus, as an example of turning current opinions upside down, the appearance of literacy marked not an advance in culture but a decline: a decline because humanity could no longer retain knowledge without writing it down! (Sound, ahem, familiar?) The legend of the Tower of Babel also hints at the decline of intelligence and wisdom. From the perspective of the ancients, the so-called miracles of Jesus Christ, including his resurrection, are but hints of the powers of matter that are latently possible to enlightened humans and were in evidence in higher ages (while all too rare in the lower ages that include what we consider to be human history: roughly 2,000 BC - today).

Shifting now to another subject, a number of books have been written on the life Therese Neumann, a Bavarian mystic who lived through the Nazi era (she died in 1962) and bore on her body the five wounds of Jesus Christ. In addition, it was proven to the satisfaction of skeptical medical authorities that she did not eat food or drink water. She only partook of the Friday communion wafer. This was so for several decades of her life. Paramhansa Yogananda, whom I consider my spiritual preceptor, or guru, visited her in 1935. He attended one of her weekly trances in which she re-lived the experience of Jesus' passion and death. Yogananda said that these extraordinary manifestations were given her by grace so that she would be living proof that the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ was real. During the first half of the twentieth century Germany epitomized the questioning, materialistic, scientific mind, even among Christian theologians and ministers, many of whom declared their doubt or even denied as preposterous the miraculous aspects of Jesus' life such as his resurrection after the crucifixion.

Shifting our perspective yet again, turning the prism of wisdom round about: imagine the impact on a person from the Middle Ages who would come forward in time to encounter the ordinary day-to-day marvels of our world such as cell phones, computers, television, the internet, air and space travel, just to name a few. To such a person, our world would seem fantastical and rife with miraculous powers.

Down through the centuries of our known history, hints of our human potential have been revealed to "those with eyes to see," east and west, in the stories of saints performing miracles such as raising the dead, bi-locating, levitating, demonstrating telepathy, foresight and much more.

According to "The Yugas," humanity is on an ascending escalator of expanding awareness. It may take many thousands of years yet to reach the zenith of human consciousness, but the rapid pace of increased knowledge and power, physical stature and longevity, and overall awareness supports, the authors say, this view. Humanity is still not very far along this path toward enlightenment, and so there remains much ignorance which, when armed with modern weaponry and communication, has produced violence and suffering on a scale never before seen in recorded history. Thus for now there are some, principally those of orthodox faiths, who believe human faith and morals are on the decline, not the ascendant. But the long and ascending view says this is temporary and is the result of the transition from old and to new, with the stimulated energies of the ascendant quickening, as it were, the old attitudes, prejudices, and mores. The struggle between old and new is, in this view, the birth pangs of humanity's unfoldment toward a higher awareness.

Here then we have, albeit only by reason and inference, an avenue by which we might reexamine the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. If there did exist in the dim past a golden age (as all great civilizations bore witness and for which there is a rapidly growing body of evidence, otherwise and heretofore considered merely anomalous) in which "men were like gods," and, if considering the pace and form of modern technology, why would raising the dead be so completely out of the running of reason? If energy cannot be created or destroyed, why should life and consciousness not know continuity and rebirth?

We take almost for granted that someday, Star-Trek-like, we will teleport our bodies across vast expanses of time and space. So, why not consider, even but tentatively, the possibilities?

There is an exponential growth in the testimonies of past life memories and a growing and consistent body of testimony in regards to the near-death experiences. Evidence is growing that consciousness exists outside the brain.

Celebrate, then, the promise of immortality of consciousness, immutability of self-awareness and the freedom from suffering that can be achieved in an eternal and transcendent expansion of consciousness. Easter represents the promise of redemption: the superiority of consciousness over matter, of consciousness AS the heart of matter and the promise of freedom in God. We have lived since the beginning of time and creation. We need only to march forward buoyed by the example of great saints and masters, walking where they have walked: toward the Light. In this way we resurrect our soul's changeless bliss from the tomb of change, time, space, and matter.

Perhaps more angles from the prism of Easter's message to come!

Blessings,

Nayaswami Hriman

The Soul's Story of Redemption: Mary Poppins & The Saving of Mr. Banks!

We watched the Tom Hanks movie, "Saving Mr. Banks." I had no idea what to expect and I generally don't watch a movie that I have no inkling of its pedigree. But this was well worth it, and I rarely make movie recommendations.

I think the only aspect of it that might prevent the movie from becoming one of the all time classics is that it is close-to-essential to know the story (and movie), Mary Poppins, starring Julie Andrews and Dick Van Dyke (and produced by Walt Disney and first screened in 1964).

If you don't know the Mary Poppins story and movie, well, you can skip this blog article, as I don't want to take the time and space to explain it. 

The lead character, the author of the original Mary Poppins story, "P.L. Travers," is played by Emma Thompson, of Shakespeare play renown. I do not know to what degree the movie, "Saving Mr. Banks," follows the real story of the author but, no matter. 

Why, "no matter?" Because truth is greater than fact. "Saving Mr. Banks" is a story of redemption. In this archetypal genre, such stories have for their truth the reality that we are need of redemption from the past, from ignorance, from delusion. Every great classic story of redemption involves the wisdom and love of another person who aids in the process of releasing the past and finding one's true Self. In the world of spirituality, God takes the form of the guru to lead us home to soul freedom.

This story of redemption is what makes this movie great. Well, ok, not just the story, but the acting, scripting, and, to whatever degree the facts behind it are true, all give it power beyond philosophy or mere intellectual analysis (like I'm doing!).

In this story Travers is a young girl whose father is an alcoholic and his disease destroys him and his career in banking--a career that stifles his creativity and his joy in life. As a young girl she watches her mother's attempted suicide, her father's public humiliation, and finally his death. As a young woman she achieves some financial security from her writings, beginning with the Mary Poppins childrens story that she writes. 

The movie unfolds via flashbacks and fairly slowly, but it crescendos in the realization that her beloved children’s book is her own attempt at redeeming her father, Mr. Banks. It is Walt Disney himself who unlocks the door to her secret. So, too, does her chauffeur (played by Paul Giamatti--leading role in and as "John Adams").

The acting is superb; the lines and music priceless; but the cathartic lesson is timeless. 

As souls we are prodigal; we are lost in the wilderness of our own separateness. The pain of separation, the existential angst, drives us to desperate measures of resolution: including destructive behaviors such as alcoholism, just to name one (of the more popular) of an infinity of ways to "lose our mind." 

Sticking, though loosely, to the story line, Mr. Banks is a free spirit. He loves his wife and his children and the last thing he's good at is buckling down to support them. His free spirit rules him however and soon produces the clash between his spirit and his actions; between his free spirit and the consequences of his own actions in a material world split by duality, a fatal dichotomy is created. 

He resorts, then, to alcohol to ease the stress and anxiety of his nonconforming behavior. But his habit leads him step-by-step down the rabbit hole, and his family suffers with each his humiliation. But he adores his children and especially our protagonist, his daughter.

She, in turn, innocent as a child and not understanding, but experiencing the tragedy of her parents' respective death wishes, despite their love for her (and her siblings), grows up deeply cleaved and soon shuts out the inner child who is playful, imaginative and free. She develops a compulsive personality that is so rigidly and merely factual, that few can abide her presence. Being a lone writer then suits her just fine. She controls the world around her rigidly and makes no accommodation to her own strict rules and perceptions, sparing no expense of the comfort of others.

In time and in her later years, however, the world catches up with her. She has spurned Walt Disney's annual appeals for movie rights but finally succumbs because she is about to lose her home due to financial woes caused by her own need to be perfect (and thus unable to be creatively inspired as a writer).

Well, the rest of this story is simply the story. You'll have to watch it yourself. As Mary Poppins helps free Mr. Banks (in the children’s story) so he can fly his kite, so P.L. Travers eventually is freed from the straitjacket of her rigidly correct and reasoning mind. In short, she finds redemption.

We have then a classic story whereby the spirit which is within us is held ransom by our fears or rejection of the world around us, its expectations of us, and our proper role in it. It is painful to love, to be vulnerable, to be spontaneous. But our free spirit must also remain in touch with Spirit so that it doesn't descend progressively towards a hell of our making: the subconscious, disconnected from the reality of the world around us. We can retain our innocence--which is our soul's eternal joy, untouched by suffering and death--if we seek that innocence at the heart of all that we do; at the heart of all that is dutiful and right for us to fulfill. It is we who create the tension between the "ought" and the "is." Once we view the world as a battle of wills between what we want and what it wants, it’s a fight to the death: the death of our soul.

"Joy is within you" even as you "do as you ought." This is the secret of redemption. The inner joy of which we speak is of God. It is transmitted to us by those souls who have achieved it as a permanent beatitude. Great saints can show us the way to the freedom of the soul. Freedom is not doing what you want, but doing, with joy, what is right.

What a difficult and daily lesson for each and every person who makes the effort to live intentionally, to live consciously, and, better yet, to live super-consciously, in harmony with the Divine Will, with the divine "lila" (movie or play), and in concert with the great script of our life’s dharma.

So, now, you can watch "Saving Mr. Banks."

"Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down."

Nayaswami Hriman

Meditation: Is it Just Me, or, Is Anyone Om?

I was re-listening to a recorded talk by Paramhansa Yogananda today while jogging, and he reminded his audience how easy it is to be "out of tune with God" while meditating. It was an odd way to put it and he may have meant more than I could glean from it, but the basic interpretation is one I can relate to: "I can meditate" and that's all I am doing. Let me try that again:

Over the years as I've been in the position to teach meditation, I've reminded folks to not mistake the "path for the goal." I think this is basically what Yogananda was saying. Patanjali (think Yoga Sutras) described "missing the point" as one of the yogi's spiritual traps. It is very easy for those who meditate to focus on the techniques of meditation and never get beyond their own thoughts and preoccupations.

Now this subject is going to take a little work on my part. So let's sit back, take a deep breath and be still.

First: many meditation teachers and students approach meditation as a mindfulness exercise involving just "me" and not "Thee." This is as far as millions of people even intend to go when they meditate. So these folks aren't really in the "game" of this article at all! To paraphrase a Sixties song, "It's my mind and I can do what I want to." (Leslie Gore) So, fine....to quote another Sixties song, "Is that all there is?" (Sinatra) This use of meditation (probably the most common use) is like flossing between the ears. Good mental hygiene with many medical and psychological benefits. End of my article? (You wish!)

This psychological approach may be healthy but I suspect it is difficult to sustain unless the meditator achieves sufficient depth often enough to be desirous of continuing. The simple fact is that meditation takes self-discipline; self-discipline takes motivation; motivation requires necessity. So either one's life is intensely stressful and meditation is a life saver, or, you're likely to be distracted by surfing the net or answering emails or writing blogs, or simply going to bed on time.

Second: traditional use of meditation as a spiritual exercise, including a form of prayer, might be wholly centered on God, Christ, Buddha, Krishna or one of an infinite number of deities or one's teacher. I say "traditional" but I don't say that with complete confidence. Let's simply say, perhaps instead, that when meditation takes a more strictly or more focused devotional form it would be something like that. In this case, too, but for opposite reason, there's no question about "Who's who in meditation." In devotional forms the issue that arises is "When will you come to me?"

The counsel that wise teachers (which includes Yogananda and my own teacher, his direct disciple, Swami Kriyananda) give is that one should be non-attached in meditation and not engage in merchant consciousness, expecting results ("Or, I'll take my cushion and go home!") There's a lovely song, "Keep Calling Him" inspiring the devotee to be steadfast in his devotions whether it takes lifetimes. There's also the thought of "divine impatience" countered by "Patience is the shortest route to God." Now are we getting fuzzy (warm, too?) here?

By impatience we mean that the sense of energy, commitment, zeal and wakefulness of a sort that never gives up is essential. By patience we mean the depth of intuitive knowing that God is always with us and we are ever content in our Self. Yogananda would tell the story of St. Anthony of the Desert. After years of intense prayer and meditation and right on the cusp of his being destroyed by Satan and his minions and calling to Jesus Christ, Jesus finally appears and drives Satan away. Anthony is grateful but chides his Lord asking, "Ahemmm, and, Where were you all this time?" Yogananda would quote Jesus as saying, "Anthony (in a mildly rebuking tone), "I was always with you!" When we meditate with the thought of God's eternal presence we find blissful contentment and waves of grace flowing over us!

Nonetheless, the prayerful and meditating devotee can get discouraged if her entire focus is upon her Lord and he remains ever silent. How many lovers can sustain their love only in silence? In this case the I-Thou becomes one-sided: focused on Thou but Thou art AWOL! Certainly extraordinary bhaktis (lovers of God) will carry on for an eternity, but such devotees are in short supply at this time (of Dwapara Yuga, the age of energy and egoic self-interest).

So, the rest of us are somewhere in between. I assume that many of today's "modern" meditators would identify themselves with the motto, "Spiritual but not religious." Spirituality among this group is somewhat vague and fuzzy, ranging between "feel good" and "feel God," where the emphasis is on "feel." But even among my friends who, like me, are disciples of Paramhansa Yogananda and practitioners of Kriya Yoga, we find the range of intellectual, active, and feeling types.

For example, for years, considering myself more mental than devotional, my emphasis was on my practices (i.e. Kriya Yoga) and the uplifting, calming, and expansive effect meditation had upon me. With steady practice of devotion, including chanting which I love, I gradually became more steady and deep in my comfort with and feeling of and for Yogananda's presence during meditation (and during activity). I discovered from time to time that even with a great meditation, it could be all about having a great meditation and nothing more (devotional, that is)!

Meditation, in other words, can become self-preoccupying. I have often had the sense that some meditators around me (I spend many hours per week in group meditations) are simply sitting there quietly; perhaps contentedly; but essentially "doing nothing": neither striving for depth in meditation, nor offering themselves devotionally to God or guru, nor transcendent of passing thoughts having achieved (or even seeking) a deep state of inner stillness.

In meditation, then, there are several stages:   1) Withdrawal from outer activity;   2) Relaxation, mental as well as physical;   3) Internalization of mental focus;     4) Practice of and concentration upon one's chosen image, state or technique;    5) Having the desire to use one's technique to go beyond it;     6) Achieving a quiescent, inner state of awareness ; and, 7) Achieving upliftment into a higher state of being (than passive quietness).

The active or feeling types all have the same trap: engaging in their respective practices without going beyond them into the very state they are focusing on.

I have concluded after years of practice and teaching that a meditator needs to remind himself to go beyond himself. It's like being "Beside myself" except really, really different, as in "Being inside my Self." When therefore you sit to meditate remind your Self of the difference between your practices and their goal. Always desire and intend to reach your goal, "making haste slowly." Practice with infinite patience and with unstoppable determination. Attempt in every meditation to quiet the heart and breath and achieve a true moment (a moment can be infinite and eternally NOW) of perfect stillness and spiritual wakefulness.

We need the Thou (whether Thou is your practice or Thou is your "God") to replace the "i" and we need to replace the Thou with the I. The one seeks the Other and in the seeking we become ONE.

Are U Won, yet?

Ascending now, au revoir,

Nayaswami Hari-man