Thought of oneself will destroy all other thoughts

In a comment on my previous article, Is there more than one way in which we can investigate and know ourself?, a friend called Venkat wrote:

Given that the ego/mind is non-existent, and just a thought that pass across the screen of consciousness, what is it that choose to be attentively self-aware? Pure consciousness just is, and the body/mind/world are just thoughts/perceptions that flow across that screen. So the thought to be attentively self-aware is just another thought on that screen. I am struggling what is it that then directs attention. Apologies if I’m not being very clear.

When I read this comment, I noted it as one that I should reply to, but it soon led to a thread of more than thirty comments in which other friends responded to and discussed what he had written, so in this article (which has eventually grown into an extremely long one) I will reply both to this comment and to a few of the ideas expressed in other comments in that thread, and also to many later comments on that article that were not directly connected to what Venkat had written but that are nevertheless relevant to this crucial subject of self-investigation (ātma-vicāra).

Is there more than one way in which we can investigate and know ourself?

A friend recently sent me an email in which he asked:

I had mentioned to you that in my view there appear to be three different approaches to self-investigation, i) self-enquiry, which involves asking who am I and going to the root of the I thought, ii) meditating on I am, excluding the arising of any thought, and concentrating on I am, and iii) trying to notice the gap between two thoughts, expanding the gap, and being without any thought, summa iru. You had replied that these are not three different approaches but constitute only one approach. Could you please elaborate your comment?

This article is adapted from the reply that I wrote to him.

Sleep is our natural state of pure self-awareness

In the first comment on my previous article, What happens to our mind in sleep?, an anonymous friend wrote: ‘It cannot be correct that we experience ourselves in sleep and mind is absent. If that were true, everyone is realized during sleep. And once realized, he does not come back to the world. That is why it is said that the mind is in the dormant state. The I thought exists in its primitive form’.

As this anonymous friend wrote, this seemingly common sense reasoning is why it is generally said that our mind or ego exists in sleep in a dormant condition (known as the kāraṇa śarīra or ānandamaya kōśa), but such reasoning oversimplifies the issue, failing to recognise not only some important nuances but also some fairly obvious flaws in its own arguments. Let us therefore consider this issue in greater depth in order to see whether we can understand Bhagavan’s teachings in this regard more clearly.

What happens to our mind in sleep?

A couple of months ago a friend called Vilcomayo wrote a comment on one of my earlier articles, Our memory of ‘I’ in sleep, in which he or she asked, ‘what exactly means “absence of the mind” in sleep? In a state in which our mind is/was absent or subsided, does/did the mind “go” to any other place or does/did it rather subside in its source?’, and today he or she wrote another comment reminding me about this question.

Before replying to this question I would first like to apologise to Vilcomayo for not replying earlier. I receive so many questions by email and in comments on this blog that I am unfortunately not able to reply to all of them immediately, and if I cannot reply to any of them soon enough they tend to join the large backlog of hundreds of questions that I have not yet had time to reply to and may never have time to do so. Therefore, Vilcomayo, you are perfectly justified in reminding me about your question, and I apologise not only to you but also to all the other friends whose questions I have not been able to reply to yet.

What happens to our mind in sleep is not actually an easy question to answer, because it is a question asked from the perspective of waking or dream, the two states in which this mind seems to exist, about sleep, which is the state in which it does not seem to exist. According to Bhagavan the mind does not actually exist even when it seems to exist, so the correct answer is that nothing happens to the mind in sleep, because there is no mind to which anything could ever happen.

The logic underlying the practice of self-investigation (ātma-vicāra)

In a comment on my previous article, Self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) is just the simple practice of trying to be attentively self-aware, an anonymous friend asked, ‘Does this practice work?’ and went on to explain why he or she asked this question, saying, ‘There are so many Gurus each offering a unique method — a method that might have worked for them. The real question is does it work for others? Michael, from your writings I gather you have been practicing this for more than two decades (?). What is your realization so far? Have you been able to achieve what Bhagavan describes? Honestly, if the answer is no, then I will be very skeptical of this method’.

Self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) is just the simple practice of trying to be attentively self-aware

This article is adapted from the replies that I wrote to two emails written by a friend called Ladislav asking for advice on how to practise self-investigation (ātma-vicāra).

First reply

In his first email Ladislav wrote:

My issue: still I can’t feel ‘I’ or my self. I also tried to repeat in my mind the word ‘I’ or ‘I am’, but still I have not succeeded (i.e. I don’t feel anything other than before. I don’t feel myself). I don’t look for sensation but I seek sense of self. Please can you advise me, what do I do to know feeling self?

In reply to this I wrote:

When you say ‘I can’t feel I’, are there two ‘I’s, one of which cannot feel the other? Are you not always just one ‘I’? Are you not always self-aware? Are you not always aware that ‘I am’? There is nothing more to know than this.

Why is it necessary to be attentively self-aware, rather than just not aware of anything else?

A friend recently wrote to me asking:

I have a question if attention has to be drawn (intentionally) to the self, or is it enough if I just remain as I am, surrendering the filthy ego to God? No “fixing the mind into self”, nor “looking for the source” or “I-thought”, but just remaining?

I wrote a brief reply, and he replied asking some further questions, so this article is adapted from the two replies I wrote to him.

We ourself are what we are looking for

A friend wrote to me recently:

I am still struggling with understanding the concept of ‘Who am I’. Am I looking for that which existed before my body and mind came into this existence, i.e. emptiness/fullness etc.? Do I explore the personal ‘I’ and from where it arose? I understand that I am that source from which the body came into the dream but when I explore it there is nothing there and I cannot feel the love that is supposed to be the real me. Also why is the dream of life so unpleasant when it has come from a source of love? What is the point of the dream? I find it frightening and I worry so much about the animals/the environment and I feel such pain. Why would the self create such a dream?

In reply I wrote:

Yes, we are looking for that which existed before our body and mind came into existence, but that exists not only then but also now and always, because it is what we actually are, so since we cannot go back in time we must find it here and now.

Self-knowledge is not a void (śūnya)

In a comment on one of my recent articles, The term nirviśēṣa or ‘featureless’ denotes an absolute experience but can be comprehended conceptually only in a relative sense, a friend called Bob asked several questions concerning the idea of a void, blank or nothingness and expressed his fear of such an idea. He started by asking why all we can now remember about what we experienced in deep sleep is a blank, or rather why we cannot remember anything at all except that we existed, and he suggested, ‘Is this because the illusory dualistic knowing consciousness [our mind or ego] cannot conceive the real non-dual being consciousness[?]’. He then went on to say, ‘I would be lying to you if I said that surrendering myself […] isn’t scary. It is very scary as I am scared of dissolving into the unknown. It is like letting go of the cliff and falling into nothingness, the complete unknown … the cold empty void’, but then asked, ‘is it more accurate to say that myself as I really am, the infinite non dual being consciousness that experiences everything as itself, is not a mere blank void or cold nothingness but is just a reality completely beyond the conceptualisation of my limited dualistic egoic mind[?]’, and added, ‘This seems to make letting go less scary as I am not falling into a cold empty void at all’.

To clarify what he was trying to express he also asked several other questions such as ‘is it right to say the non-dual infinite being consciousness is not a blank void of nothingness, it is just a reality beyond what the limited mind can understand so it appears a blank when tried to be recollected from the illusory dualistic waking state[?]’ and ‘is it right to say when I experience myself as I really am with perfect clarity of self-awareness this previous seeming blank empty nothingness / void I once linked to deep sleep will now be the one true reality as waking & dream would have dissolved into it and the deep sleep state will now be all there ever was / has been[?] The veil of lack of clarity would have been lifted for ever’, before finally expressing his hope that ‘this once seeming cold empty blank void perception of the deep sleep state will not be so but in contrast it will be a reality of pure bliss ... pure happiness of being where I experience everything as myself .. it won’t be cold empty void at all’.

This article is therefore an attempt to reassure Bob that the experience of true self-knowledge is not as scary as it may seem, and that it is something way beyond any idea that our finite mind may have of it.

What is meditation on the heart?

In a comment on one of my recent articles, By attending to our ego we are attending to ourself, a friend called Viswanathan quoted the following passage from chapter 13 of Reflections on Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi by S. S. Cohen:

Now we turn to the positive side of the question, whether meditation on the Heart is possible. Bhagavan declares it to be possible, but not in the form of investigation, as it is done when the ‘I’ is the subject. Meditation on the Heart must be a special meditation, provided the meditator takes the Heart to be pure consciousness and has at least, an intuitive knowledge of what pure consciousness is. Only that meditation succeeds which has this intuitive knowledge, and is conducted with the greatest alertness, so that the moment thoughts cease, the mind perceives itself in its own home — the Heart itself. This is certainly more difficult to do than to investigate into the source of the ‘I’, because it is a direct assault on, rather direct contact with, the very source itself. It is no doubt the quickest method, but it exacts the greatest alertness and the most concentrated attention, denoting a greater adhikara (maturity).

This passage is the later half of Cohen’s commentary on the following passage from section 131 of Talks with Sri Ramana Maharshi (2006 edition, page 119):

D.: There are said to be six organs of different colours in the chest, of which the heart is said to be two finger-breadths to the right of the middle line. But the Heart is also formless. Should we then imagine it to have a shape and meditate on it?

M.: No. Only the quest “Who am I?” is necessary. What remains all through deep sleep and waking is the same. But in waking there is unhappiness and the effort to remove it. Asked who wakes up from sleep you say ‘I’. Now you are told to hold fast to this ‘I’. If it is done the eternal Being will reveal Itself. Investigation of ‘I’ is the point and not meditation on the heart-centre. There is nothing like within or without. Both mean either the same thing or nothing.

Of course there is also the practice of meditation on the heart-centre. It is only a practice and not investigation. Only the one who meditates on the heart can remain aware when the mind ceases to be active and remains still; whereas those who meditate on other centres cannot be so aware but infer that the mind was still only after it becomes again active.

‘That alone is tapas’: the first teachings that Sri Ramana gave to Kavyakantha Ganapati Sastri

In the comments on one of my recent articles, Can we experience what we actually are by following the path of devotion (bhakti mārga)?, a friend argued that self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) is a two-stage process, and though I tried to explain in my latest article, Trying to distinguish ourself from ego is what is called self-investigation (ātma-vicāra), that it is actually a single seamless process with no distinct stages, various friends have continued discussing this idea, and at one point this discussion branched off into a discussion about the reliability of what is recorded in the ‘Talks’ section of Sat-Darshana Bhashya, which prompted me to explain (here, here and here) why I generally do not consider anything written or recorded by Kavyakantha Ganapati Sastri or Kapali Sastri to be reliable.

Since discussion of these two separate subjects continued side by side for a while, in one comment a friend called Wittgenstein suggested that it would be useful to consider the first teaching that Bhagavan gave to Kavyakantha in order to see whether he gave any indication at that time that ātma-vicāra is a two-stage process. Wittgenstein concluded that there was no such indication, but asked me to correct him if he had drawn any wrong conclusions from that teaching, so this article is written in reply to him.

1. The two replies that Bhagavan gave to Kavyakantha
2. The implication of Bhagavan’s first reply
3. The practice of self-investigation entails nothing but attentively observing ourself
4. The implication of Bhagavan’s second reply
5. Upadēśa Undiyār verse 30: experiencing what remains when ego dissolves is tapas
6. Guru Vācaka Kōvai verse 706: a paraphrase of Bhagavan’s second reply
7. Upadēśa Taṉippākkaḷ verse 14: Bhagavan’s condensation of verse 706 of Guru Vācaka Kōvai

1. The two replies that Bhagavan gave to Kavyakantha

Kavyakantha Ganapati Sastri had been living in Tiruvannamalai on and off since 1903, so he had known about Bhagavan since then, but he did not feel any particular interest in him until one day in 1907. On that day, 18th November, he was feeling dejected, because in spite of practising mantra-japa (repetition of sacred words) and other forms of tapas (religious austerity or spiritual practice) for many years he had not achieved any of his ambitions, so he suddenly felt inspired to approach Bhagavan and ask him for guidance. Finding him sitting alone outside Virupaksha cave, where he was then living, Kavyakantha prostrated to him and said something to the effect: ‘I have studied all the Vedas and numerous other books; I have done countless crores of mantra-japa; I have fasted and eaten very little; yet what is actually meant by ‘tapas’ is still not clear to me. Graciously explain to me what tapas really is’.

At first Bhagavan just kept quiet and silently gazed at Kavyakantha, but after about fifteen minutes Kavyakantha said: ‘I have read in books about such cakṣu-dīkṣā [initiation by sight] but I cannot grasp the truth that is taught thereby, so graciously explain verbally’. Bhagavan then said:

நான் நான் என்பது எங்கேயிருந்து புறப்படுகிறதோ அதைக் கவனித்தால், மனம் அங்கே லீனமாகும்; அதுவே தபஸ்.

nāṉ nāṉ eṉbadu eṅgēyirundu puṟappaḍugiṟadō adai-k gavaṉittāl, maṉam aṅgē līṉam-āhum; adu-v-ē tapas.

From where what says ‘I, I’ goes out, if one attentively observes that, there the mind will be dissolved; that alone is tapas.

However Kavyakantha was bewildered by the unfamiliarity of this teaching, so he asked, ‘Is it not possible to attain that state even by mantra-japa?’, to which Bhagavan replied:

ஒரு மந்திரத்தை ஜபம் பண்ணினால் அந்த மந்திரத்வனி எங்கேயிருந்து புறப்படுகிறது என்று கவனித்தால், மனம் அங்கே லீனமாகிறது; அதுதான் தபஸ்.

oru mantirattai japam paṇṇiṉāl anda mantira-dhvaṉi eṅgēyirundu puṟappaḍugiṟadu eṉḏṟu gavaṉittāl, maṉam aṅgē līṉam-āgiṟadu; adu-dāṉ tapas.

If one does japa of a mantra, if one attentively observes from where that mantra-sound goes out, there the mind is dissolved; that itself is tapas.

Let us now consider the meaning and implication of these two replies in more detail.

2. The implication of Bhagavan’s first reply

In the first of these two replies the phrase நான் நான் என்பது (nāṉ nāṉ eṉbadu), which means ‘what says I I’, denotes ego, because ego is the only form of ‘I’ that rises or goes out. In this phrase the repetition of நான் (nāṉ), which means ‘I’, refers to the fact that in both thought and speech ego repeatedly refers to itself as ‘I’, as Kavyakantha had done when saying ‘I have studied all the Vedas […] I have done crores of mantra-japa; I have fasted […]’.

எங்கேயிருந்து (eṅgēyirundu) means ‘from where’; புறப்படுகிறதோ (puṟappaḍugiṟadō) means ‘goes out’ or ‘starts out’; அதை (adai) is the accusative case form of அது (adu), which means ‘that’ or ‘it’; and கவனித்தால் (gavaṉittāl) is a conditional form of கவனி (gavaṉi), which is a transitive verb that means to observe or attend to, so கவனித்தால் (gavaṉittāl) means ‘if one attentively observes’. Thus ‘நான் நான் என்பது எங்கேயிருந்து புறப்படுகிறதோ அதைக் கவனித்தால்’ (nāṉ nāṉ eṉbadu eṅgēyirundu puṟappaḍugiṟadō adai-k gavaṉittāl) is a conditional clause that means: ‘from where what says I I goes out, if one attentively observes that’.

This conditional clause is followed by the main clause, ‘மனம் அங்கே லீனமாகும்’ (maṉam aṅgē līṉam-āhum), which means ‘there the mind will be dissolved’. மனம் (maṉam) means ‘mind’; அங்கே (aṅgē) is an intensified form of அங்கு (aṅgu), which means ‘there’, so it implies ‘in that very place’ or ‘in the very source from which ego rises’; லீனமாகும் (līṉam-āhum) is a compound of two words, லீனம் (līṉam), which means ‘melted’, ‘dissolved’, ‘absorbed’ or ‘swallowed up’, and ஆகும் (āhum), which means ‘will be’, so லீனமாகும் (līṉam-āhum) means ‘will be dissolved’.

Since that from which ego rises or goes out is only ourself, what Bhagavan describes in the conditional clause of this sentence is only the practice of self-investigation (ātma-vicāra), which is attentively observing ourself, the source from which we rise as ego, and what he describes in the main clause is the result of this practice, which is the complete dissolution of the mind along with its root, ego, in its source, which is ourself. Then in the concluding sentence of this first reply he says ‘அதுவே தபஸ்’ (adu-v-ē tapas), which means ‘that alone is tapas’.

Though tapas literally means ‘scorching’ or ‘burning’ and is generally used to mean any type of severe religious austerity or spiritual practice, what any form of tapas essentially entails is self-denial. Therefore according to Bhagavan real tapas is only the practice of ātma-vicāra, because this is the only means by which we can dissolve ego, and without the complete dissolution of ego we cannot really deny ourself. Any other form of self-denial is only a denial of what seems to be ‘mine’ but not a denial of what now seems to be ‘I’, namely ego.

Thus in this simple reply Bhagavan summarised the entire essence of his teachings, indicating clearly that the simple practice of being self-attentive or attentively self-aware is the only means by which we can dissolve ego back into ourself, the source from which it arose, and thereby remain as we really are.

3. The practice of self-investigation entails nothing but attentively observing ourself

As Wittgenstein wrote in his comment, there is absolutely no suggestion in this reply that ātma-vicāra entails more than one stage. In fact in this reply Bhagavan implies quite the opposite, namely that in order to dissolve ego in ourself we need do nothing else but try to attentively observe ourself.

Since we now experience ourself as this ego, which is a mixture of ourself and various adjuncts that we currently mistake ourself to be, when we begin trying to attentively observe ourself we will be observing ourself as this ego. However, so long as we understand that what we actually are is only pure self-awareness, which is the essence of this ego, what we will try to observe attentively is only our self-awareness and not any of the adjuncts with which it is now mixed, such as our body, and by thus trying to observe only our essential self-awareness we will gradually manage to separate this self-awareness and thereby experience it in complete isolation (kaivalya) from all our adjuncts.

This separation and isolation of ourself by keenly vigilant self-attentiveness is the only means by which ego and the rest of our mind can be dissolved back into ourself, because we seem to be this ego or mind only so long as we experience ourself mixed with any adjuncts. Therefore simple self-attentiveness is all that ātma-vicāra entails from beginning to end, so there is no stage in ātma-vicāra other than trying to be attentively self-aware as much as possible.

That is, by simply observing ego attentively as much as we can we will eventually succeed in dissolving it back into ourself, its source. No effort other than this is required, and indeed any effort other than this will only distract away us from attentively observing ourself alone.

4. The implication of Bhagavan’s second reply

What Bhagavan taught Kavyakantha in his second reply is essentially exactly the same as what he taught him in his first reply, because just as we ourself are the source from which we rise as this illusory ‘I’ called ego or mind, we are also the source from which everything else arises, including the sound of any mantra that we might be repeating, so attentively observing the source from which a mantra-sound goes out is the same as attentively observing the source from which we go out as this ego. Both entail only being vigilantly self-attentive.

In the second reply there are two conditional clauses, of which the first is a condition for the second, and the second is a condition for the result expressed in the main clause (which is the same as the result expressed in the main clause of the first reply). The first conditional clause is ‘ஒரு மந்திரத்தை ஜபம் பண்ணினால்’ (oru mantirattai japam paṇṇiṉāl), which means ‘if one does japa of a mantra’, except that மந்திரத்தை (mantirattai) is the accusative case form of மந்திரம் (mantiram), which is a Tamil form of the Sanskrit word मन्त्र (mantra), so it is the direct object of the conditional verb phrase ஜபம் பண்ணினால் (japam paṇṇiṉāl), which means ‘if one does japa’ or ‘if one does repetition’. However in English the verb phrase ‘do repetition’ cannot take a direct object, so we have to add the preposition ‘of’. Therefore we either have to translate this clause as ‘if one does japa of a mantra’, or in order to make ‘mantra’ a direct object, as it is in Tamil, we have to paraphrase the meaning of this clause simply as ‘if one repeats a mantra’.

The second conditional clause is ‘அந்த மந்திரத்வனி எங்கேயிருந்து புறப்படுகிறது என்று கவனித்தால்’ (anda mantira-dhvaṉi eṅgēyirundu puṟappaḍugiṟadu eṉḏṟu gavaṉittāl), which means ‘if one attentively observes from where that mantra-sound goes out’. In this context the term மந்திரத்வனி (mantira-dhvaṉi) or ‘mantra-sound’ does not literally mean a physical sound, because such a literal meaning would apply only in the case of japa done aloud and not in the case of japa done mentally, so we should take it figuratively to mean the ‘mental sound’ or thought of a mantra. That is, if we repeat a mantra in our mind we are mentally enunciating the sound of that mantra, so that mentally enunciated sound arises only in our mind, and the source from which it arises is the same source from which ego and everything else arises, namely ourself.

Therefore what Bhagavan implies in this clause is ‘if one attentively observes oneself, the source from which that mantra-sound goes out’. If we try to do this in practice, what will happen sooner or later is that our mental japa will cease, because we can do such japa only by attending to the thought of whatever mantra we are mentally repeating, so if we try to focus our entire attention on ourself, the source of that thought, the thought itself will thereby be prevented from rising.

However, this cessation of our japa does not matter, because if we are following Bhagavan’s instruction correctly, what is important is only that we attentively observe ourself. So long as we allow ourself to be attached to attending to the mantra, we will not be able to attentively observe its source steadily, because our attention will then be divided between the mantra and ourself, fluctuating back and forth between one and the other, so at best our self-attentiveness will only be partial. Therefore if we want to go deep into this practice of attentively observing from where the mantra-sound goes out, we have to be ready to let go of the mantra-sound in order to focus our entire attention on ourself, its source.

What will happen if we thus attentively observe from where the mantra-sound goes out is expressed by Bhagavan in the main clause of this sentence, ‘மனம் அங்கே லீனமாகிறது’ (maṉam aṅgē līṉam-āgiṟadu), which means, ‘there the mind is dissolved’. This is further evidence that he did not mean that we should continue clinging to the mantra or mantra-sound itself, because so long as we allow our mind to cling to anything other than ourself we will be preventing it from dissolving. It is only by our attending to ourself and ourself alone that our mind will dissolve back into ourself, its source.

As in the case of his first reply, in this reply after saying that our mind will dissolve in ourself if we attend to ourself he ends by saying, ‘அதுதான் தபஸ்’ (adu-dāṉ tapas), which means, ‘that itself is tapas’ or ‘that alone is tapas’. Thus what he implies in both of these replies is that real tapas is only the dissolution of our mind, which can be effected only by our attentively observing ourself, the source from which ego and all its thoughts arise.

5. Upadēśa Undiyār verse 30: experiencing what remains when ego dissolves is tapas

This idea is also expressed by him in verse 30 of Upadēśa Undiyār:

யானற் றியல்வது தேரி னெதுவது
தானற் றவமென்றா னுந்தீபற
     தானாம் ரமணேச னுந்தீபற.

yāṉaṯ ṟiyalvadu tēri ṉeduvadu
dāṉaṯ ṟavameṉḏṟā ṉundīpaṟa
     tāṉām ramaṇēśa ṉundīpaṟa.

பதச்சேதம்: ‘யான் அற்று இயல்வது தேரின் எது, அது தான் நல் தவம்’ என்றான் தான் ஆம் ரமணேசன்

Padacchēdam (word-separation): ‘yāṉ aṯṟu iyalvadu tēriṉ edu, adu-dāṉ nal tavam’ eṉḏṟāṉ tāṉ ām ramaṇēśaṉ.

English translation: ‘What [state of egolessness is experienced] if one knows what remains after ‘I’ has ceased to exist, that alone is good tapas’: thus said Lord Ramana, who is ourself.

In this verse the phrase யான் அற்று இயல்வது (yāṉ aṯṟu iyalvadu), which literally means ‘I ceasing what remains’ or ‘I having ceased what remains’, and which therefore implies ‘what remains after I has ceased to exist’, denotes ourself (what we actually are), because we alone will remain when ego has dissolved and thereby ceased to exist. தேரின் (tēriṉ) means ‘if one knows’, and since knowing ourself, who alone will remain after ego has ceased, is the state of true self-knowledge or pure self-awareness, what is denoted by both the pronouns எது (edu, which means ‘what’) and அது (adu, which means ‘that’) is that pure self-awareness.

The suffix தான் (dāṉ) that is appended to அது (adu) is an intensifier, so அதுதான் (adu-dāṉ) means ‘that itself’ or ‘that alone’, which refers to the egoless self-awareness implied by the previous clause, ‘யான் அற்று இயல்வது தேரின்’ (yāṉ aṯṟu iyalvadu tēriṉ), ‘if one knows what remains after I has ceased to exist’. நற்றவம் (ṉaṯṟavam) or நல் தவம் (nal tavam) literally means ‘good tapas’, but since ‘good’ is an understatement in this context, what is implied by நல் (nal) or ‘good’ is excellent, genuine or real. Therefore what is implied by the main clause, ‘அது தான் நல் தவம்’ (adu-dāṉ nal tavam) or ‘that alone is good tapas’, is that real tapas is only the egoless self-awareness that alone will remain and be experienced after the annihilation of ego.

Thus the definition of tapas that Bhagavan gives in this verse closely parallels the definitions of it that he gave in his two replies to Kavyakantha, because in all these three cases he clearly implies that real tapas is only the state in which ego or mind has been completely dissolved and eradicated.

Like Kavyakantha, the so-called ‘rishis’ (ṛṣis) in the Daruka forest, to whom the teachings in Upadēśa Undiyār were addressed, were doing tapas for the fulfilment of their personal ambitions, so after weaning them away from their kāmya karmas (desire-motivated actions) by telling them that such actions cannot give liberation, then explaining to them the relative efficacy of a broad range of other practices, and then teaching them that the best of all practices is only self-investigation (ātma-vicāra), because it alone is the direct path to liberation, Bhagavan finally tells them that real tapas is only the egoless state of pure self-awareness that will alone remain as a result of the annihilation of ego by means of ātma-vicāra. However whereas this was the final teaching (upadēśa) that he as Lord Siva gave in ancient times to the ṛṣis in the Daruka forest, it was the first teaching that he gave to Kavyakantha Ganapati Sastri, thereby indicating to us that in his manifestation as Sadguru Ramana he would not beat around the bush but would from the very outset guide his devotees onto the direct path of ātma-vicāra.

Though both the ṛṣis in the Daruka forest and Kavyakantha had been doing tapas for the fulfilment of their personal ambitions, we should not think that they are very different to us, because like them we each have our own desires and trivial aspirations that we hope to fulfil. So long as we experience ourself as this ego, we cannot completely avoid having desires, because desire and attachment to things other than ourself is the very nature of ego. If we aspire to experience ourself as we really are, we obviously need to try to minimise our other desires and aspirations as much as possible, but we cannot root them out entirely by any means other than persistent self-attentiveness.

That is, the root of all our desires and ambitions is only ego, so even if we manage to curb or reduce the intensity of some of our desires, other desires (perhaps more subtle or seemingly altruistic ones) will keep on sprouting as long as this ego survives. Therefore the only effective way to curb all desires, both long-established ones and newly sprouting ones, is to curb the rising of ego, which we can do only by attentively observing it as much as possible. So long as we allow ourself to be aware of anything other than ourself, we are giving ego freedom to rise, so we can restrict its freedom only by trying to be aware of ourself alone as much as we can.

We may consider our desires to be altruistic, as Kavyakantha no doubt did, but no matter how altruistic they may be, desires are desires, and they bind us to ego and all its adjuncts. Therefore if we are intent on rooting out ego, we have no option but to try to curb all our desires, even our seemingly most altruistic ones, by persevering in our effort to attentively observe ourself, the source from which ego arises along with all its desires. Thus at each moment of our life we are faced with a choice: whether to allow ourself to be drawn away by the outward-going flow of our desires, or to cling firmly to self-attentiveness. The extent to which we choose the latter option indicates the extent to which we have genuine love to experience ourself as we really are.

I can only speak for myself when I say that I know my own love to experience myself as I really am is woefully inadequate, so I am constantly carried away by the flow of my desires to experience things other than myself alone, but I suspect that most of us feel more or less the same. However, we should not despair, because however little effort we may make to be self-attentive, every attempt we make is a small step in the right direction, and Bhagavan has assured us (in the twelfth paragraph of Nāṉ Yār? and elsewhere) that if we persevere as much as we can we will certainly succeed sooner or later. He has given us the golden remedy, so if we yield ourself to him by trying to avail of it as much as possible, we can be sure that our small efforts to do so will unfailingly lead us to our destination. Therefore let us each continue trying to do our own little bit of tapas by attentively observing ourself, the source from which we have risen as this devilish and self-deceptive ego.

6. Guru Vācaka Kōvai verse 706: a paraphrase of Bhagavan’s second reply

In many biographies of Bhagavan, such as Self-Realisation (which was first published in 1931 and which being the earliest detailed biography became the basis for most subsequent ones), the reason why he gave his second reply to Kavyakantha is not clearly indicated, so he was often asked by devotees why he had done so, and he would then explain that he did so because after hearing his first reply Kavyakantha had asked him whether it is not possible to achieve the same state by doing mantra-japa. On one such occasion he elaborated on the inner meaning and implication of his second reply, and what he said then was summarised by Sri Muruganar in verse 706 of Guru Vācaka Kōvai:

யானென் றெழுமிடமே தென்னத்தந் நுண்ணறிவாம்
மோனத்தா லுண்மூழ்க மாட்டாதார் — மானதத்தாற்
பண்ணுஞ் செபத்திற் பராவாக்கு யாண்டிருந்து
நண்ணுமென் றாய்த னலம்.

yāṉeṉ ḏṟeṙumiḍamē deṉṉattan nuṇṇaṟivām
mōṉattā luṇmūṙka māṭṭādār — māṉadattāṟ
paṇṇuñ jepattiṯ parāvākku yāṇḍirundu
naṇṇumeṉ ḏṟāyda ṉalam.

பதச்சேதம்: யான் என்று எழும் இடம் ஏது என்ன தம் நுண் அறிவு ஆம் மோனத்தால் உள் மூழ்க மாட்டாதர் மானதத்தால் பண்ணும் செபத்தில் பராவாக்கு யாண்டு இருந்து நண்ணும் என்று ஆய்தல் நலம்.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): yāṉ eṉḏṟu eṙum iḍam ēdu eṉṉa tam nuṇ aṟivu ām mōṉattāl uḷ mūṙka māṭṭādar māṉadattāl paṇṇum jepattil parāvākku yāṇḍu-irundu naṇṇum eṉḏṟu āydal nalam.

English translation: Those who are not able to sink within by silence, which is their sharp awareness, what the place is from which it rises as ‘I’, in japa done by mind investigating from where the supreme word approaches is good.

Explanatory paraphrase: Those who are not able to sink [or submerge] within by silence, in which their sharp [acute, refined or subtle] awareness [keenly investigates] what the place is from which it [ego] rises as ‘I’, in [or during] japa done by mind investigating from where parāvāk [the supreme word, speech or sound] approaches [begins to shine forth] is good.

The grammatical structure of this verse may be somewhat difficult to understand in English, because it is a single sentence in which the verbal noun ஆய்தல் (āydal), which means ‘investigating’, together with all that precedes it is the subject of the main clause, so the entire verse except the final word, நலம் (nalam), which means ‘good’, is a single noun phrase with ஆய்தல் (āydal) as its head. Within this noun phrase, the entire portion up to and including உள் மூழ்க மாட்டாதர் (uḷ mūṙka māṭṭādar), which means ‘those who are not able to sink within’, is another noun phrase and is the subject of the verbal noun ஆய்தல் (āydal), so the basic structure of this sentence is equivalent to saying in English ‘their investigating is good’, where ‘their’ represents the noun phrase ending with மாட்டாதர் (māṭṭādar), ‘those who are not able’, and ‘investigating’ represents the rest of the main noun phrase ending with ஆய்தல் (āydal). Though the basic structure is therefore quite simple, all the other words that form both the main noun phrase and the noun phrase embedded within it make this sentence seem rather difficult to understand without adequate explanation when it is translated accurately into English.

There are several useful ideas in this verse that were not explicit in the second reply that Bhagavan gave to Kavyakantha. Firstly the first noun phrase, ‘யான் என்று எழும் இடம் ஏது என்ன தம் நுண் அறிவு ஆம் மோனத்தால் உள் மூழ்க மாட்டாதர்’ (yāṉ eṉḏṟu eṙum iḍam ēdu eṉṉa tam nuṇ aṟivu ām mōṉattāl uḷ mūṙka māṭṭādar), which means ‘those who are not able to sink within by silence, in which their sharp awareness [keenly investigates] what the place is from which it rises as I’, indicates that what Bhagavan suggested in his second reply is an option that needs to be offered only to those who feel they are unable to silently subside within by investigating what the source is from which ego rises.

Another important point in this complex phrase is the simpler instrumental phrase ‘தம் நுண் அறிவு ஆம் மோனத்தால்’ (tam nuṇ aṟivu ām mōṉattāl), which means ‘by silence, which is their sharp [acute, refined or subtle] awareness’ and which therefore implies that the instrument by which we can investigate our source is silent and keenly focussed self-awareness or self-attentiveness.

In his second reply to Kavyakantha Bhagavan advised him to attentively observe from where the mantra-dhvaṉi or sound of the mantra arises, but in this verse he expresses the same idea in a slightly different way by saying ‘பராவாக்கு யாண்டு இருந்து நண்ணும் என்று ஆய்தல்’ (parāvākku yāṇḍu irundu naṇṇum eṉḏṟu āydal), which means ‘investigating from where parāvāk approaches’. பராவாக்கு (parāvākku) literally means ‘supreme word’ or ‘supreme sound’, and in verse 715 of Guru Vācaka Kōvai he indicates that what he means by this term is the silence that shines ‘I am I’ pervading the heart-space in which ego has been destroyed, so it is obviously not the same as the mantra-dhvaṉi but is the source from which the mantra-dhvaṉi arises, namely our own being, so Bhagavan’s instruction in both cases amounts to saying that we should attentively observe our being even while doing mantra-japa. Therefore his use of this term பராவாக்கு (parāvākku) in this verse is further evidence that what he meant by attentively observing from where the mantra-dhvaṉi arises is only attentively observing ourself.

Obviously to attentively observe ourself we do not need to do any japa, but if like Kavyakantha we are so habituated to doing japa that we are unwilling to give it up, Bhagavan suggested that even while doing japa we should attentively observe our own being, which is the parāvāk from which the mantra-sound arises. Therefore the essential import of the two replies that Bhagavan gave to Kavyakantha is that whether we do japa or not, what we should try to attend to is only ourself and not anything else.

Another useful idea in this verse is expressed by the words ‘மானதத்தால் பண்ணும் செபத்தில்’ (māṉadattāl paṇṇum jepattil), which mean ‘in [or during] japa done by mind’. In his second reply Bhagavan said ‘ஒரு மந்திரத்தை ஜபம் பண்ணினால்’ (oru mantirattai japam paṇṇiṉāl), which means ‘if one does japa of a mantra’, without specifying whether he was referring to oral japa or mental japa, but in this verse he indicates that it is preferable to interpret what he replied to Kavyakantha as referring to mental japa rather than oral japa. Of course we can also apply what he suggested in that reply to doing oral japa, but since he said in verse 6 of Upadēśa Undiyār that mental japa is more beneficial than oral japa, we can infer that what he replied to Kavyakantha can be more effectively applied while doing mental japa.

7. Upadēśa Taṉippākkaḷ verse 14: Bhagavan’s condensation of verse 706 of Guru Vācaka Kōvai

After composing the above verse of Guru Vācaka Kōvai Muruganar showed it to Bhagavan, as he always did whenever he composed any verse, particularly a verse of Guru Vācaka Kōvai, and rather than suggesting any correction or improvement, as he sometimes did, Bhagavan composed another verse in which he expressed the same idea in a more succinct manner. His verse is now included in Guru Vācaka Kōvai as verse B12 and in Upadēśa Taṉippākkaḷ as verse 14:

ஞானத்து ணானாருந் தானமுறார் வாக்பரையார்
தானந்தேர் தல்சபத்திற் சால்பு.

ñāṉattu ṇāṉārun thāṉamuṟār vākparaiyār
thāṉandēr taljapattiṯ cālpu.

பதச்சேதம்: ஞானத்துள் ‘நான்’ ஆரும் தானம் உறார் வாக் பரை ஆர் தானம் தேர்தல் சபத்தில் சால்பு.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): ñāṉattuḷ ‘nāṉ’ ārum thāṉam uṟār vāk-parai ār thāṉam tērdal japattil sālbu.

அன்வயம்: ‘நான்’ ஆரும் தானம் ஞானத்துள் உறார் சபத்தில் வாக் பரை ஆர் தானம் தேர்தல் சால்பு.

Anvayam (words rearranged in natural prose order): ‘nāṉ’ ārum thāṉam ñāṉattuḷ uṟār japattil vāk-parai ār thāṉam tērdal sālbu.

English translation: Those who within jñāna do not reach the place where ‘I’ pervades, in japa investigating the place where parāvāk pervades is appropriate.

Explanatory paraphrase: Those who within [the path of] jñāna [namely the practice of self-investigation] cannot reach [and remain firmly fixed as] the place where ‘I’ pervades [namely sat-cit, pure being-awareness], in [or during] japa investigating [and knowing] the place where parāvāk [the supreme word, namely the infinite silence of pure being] pervades [which is the source from which the sound of the mantra arises] is appropriate.

The grammatical structure of this verse is basically the same as that of the verse of Guru Vācaka Kōvai that Bhagavan summarised in it, so the noun phrase ‘ஞானத்துள் நான் ஆரும் தானம் உறார்’ (ñāṉattuḷ nāṉ ārum thāṉam uṟār), which means ‘within jñāna do not reach the place where ‘I’ pervades’, is the subject of the noun phrase ending with the verbal noun தேர்தல் (tērdal) , which means ‘investigating’ or ‘knowing’ and which is in turn the subject of the main clause.

உறார் (uṟār) is a personal noun formed from the negative of the verb உறு (uṟu), which has a rich range of meanings including to be, exist, happen, occur, dwell, reside, be permanent, be stable, be attached to, be devoted to, love, join, associate with, touch, contact, move towards, approach, gain access to, reach, attain, perceive by touch, experience, suffer, think and resemble. The meaning of உறு (uṟu) or உறார் (uṟār) is therefore determined in each case by the context in which either of them is used. In this context உறார் (uṟār) means those who do not, will not or cannot steadily be, abide as, intimately experience, move towards, approach, gain access to, reach or attain, so ‘ஞானத்துள் நான் ஆரும் தானம் உறார்’ (ñāṉattuḷ nāṉ ārum thāṉam uṟār) means ‘those who within [the path of] jñāna [namely the practice of self-investigation] cannot reach [and remain firmly fixed as] the place where ‘I’ pervades’.

ஆர் (ār) is a verb that means to become full, spread over, pervade, be satisfied, abide, stay, experience or obtain, and ஆரும் (ārum) is a relative participle form of it, so நான் ஆரும் தானம் (nāṉ ārum thāṉam) means the place where (or in which) ‘I’ pervades, abides or is experienced. தானம் (thānam) is a Tamil form of the Sanskrit word स्थान (sthāna), which literally means a place (particularly a holy place) or a state of being fixed and stationary (being cognate with English words such as stand, state and static), but which is used here in a metaphorical sense to refer to ourself, the abode or static state that is filled only by ‘I’.

Likewise, வாக் பரை ஆர் தானம் (vāk-parai ār thāṉam) means the place where vāk-parai pervades, abides or is experienced, because ஆர் (ār) is used here to represent its relative participle, ஆரும் (ārum). வாக் பரை (vāk-parai) is an alternative form of the term பராவாக்கு (parāvākku), which Muruganar used in his verse, so it literally means the ‘word supreme’ or ‘supreme word’, and as we saw in the previous section, this is a term that Bhagavan used to describe ‘I’, the natural name of ourself, the supreme and only reality. Therefore, since வாக் பரை (vāk-parai) means நான் (nāṉ) or ‘I’, and since in practice investigating ‘I’ entails just experiencing and abiding as ‘I’ without rising to attend to anything else, ‘வாக் பரை ஆர் தானம் தேர்தல்’ (vāk-parai ār thāṉam tērdal) or ‘investigating [or knowing] the place where vāk-parai pervades [abides or is experienced]’ means exactly the same as ‘நான் ஆரும் தானம் உறுதல்’ (nāṉ ārum thāṉam uṟudal) or ‘abiding as [or intimately experiencing] the place where ‘I’ pervades [abides or is experienced]’.

Therefore the only difference between the practice that Bhagavan describes in each of these two noun phrases lies in the two words ஞானத்துள் (ñāṉattuḷ) and சபத்தில் (japattil). ஞானத்துள் (ñāṉattuḷ) literally means ‘within jñāna’ or ‘inside jñāna’, but in this context implies while practising self-investigation (ātma-vicāra), which alone is the path of jñāna, as taught by Bhagavan in verse 29 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu, in which he says ‘உள் ஆழ் மனத்தால் நான் என்று எங்கு உந்தும் என நாடுதலே ஞான நெறி ஆம்’ (uḷ āṙ maṉattāl nāṉ eṉḏṟu eṅgu undum eṉa nāḍudalē ñāṉa-neṟi ām), which means ‘investigating by an inward sinking mind where it rises as I alone is the path of jñāna’. சபத்தில் (japattil) likewise means ‘in japa’, which in this context implies while practising japa, so what Bhagavan implies in this verse is simply that for those who think they cannot practise self-investigation on its own, it is appropriate to practise self-investigation while doing japa.

That is, for those who are accustomed to doing some action (karma) such as japa in the name of spiritual practice, just being silently and attentively self-aware may seem to be too abstract and may therefore not seem to be a spiritual practice at all, so for such people it can be helpful to continue doing japa (or whatever other such action they are used to doing) but at the same time trying to attentively observe themselves, the source from which japa or other such actions arise. By continuing to do whatever they are used to doing, they will maintain their impression that they are doing a spiritual practice, while at the same time by trying to be attentively self-aware they will be beginning to do a spiritual practice that is actually far more beneficial and efficacious than any action could ever be.

Thus in this verse Bhagavan clearly indicates that the practice he taught Kavyakantha in his second reply is essentially exactly the same practice of self-attentiveness that he taught him in his first reply. The only reason he worded his second reply as he did was because Kavyakantha had asked him whether he could not attain the same state by doing mantra-japa, so what Bhagavan implied in his second reply is that he could do so provided he tried to be self-attentive while doing his japa.

In other words, though both in his second reply and in this verse Bhagavan mentions doing japa as an optional extra, he makes it clear that whether or not we do japa, what is essential is only that we should try as much as possible to be self-attentive. To illustrate how we can apply this in practice without being distracted away from our main aim, which is only to be self-attentive, I will end by relating it to my own experience.

That is, I find it is useful occasionally to apply what he suggests in this verse in the following way: sometimes when my mind is engrossed in other thoughts and seems to have no interest or liking even to try to be self-attentive, to restore my interest I start to mentally repeat his name, ‘Ramana, Ramana, Ramana, Ramana’ (often in one of the tunes in which Sadhu Om used to sing it, which involves lengthening the final ‘a’ to make it vocative case, a prayerful call to him, just as he himself lengthened the final ‘a’ in ‘Arunachala’ at the end of each verse and the refrain of Akṣaramaṇamālai), and while doing so I try to be self-attentive. Using his name (or that of Arunachala) for this purpose is particularly appropriate and effective, because he taught us that he is in fact our own self and therefore shines eternally within us as ‘I’, so his name not only rekindles our devotion to him but also draws our attention back within to experience him as he really is. When I succeed in restoring my interest in being self-attentive by this means, the repetition of his name naturally subsides, because the more strongly our attention is drawn to ourself the less we need to or are able to pay any attention to doing japa.

Trying to distinguish ourself from our ego is what is called self-investigation (ātma-vicāra)

In a comment on one of my earlier articles, Can we experience what we actually are by following the path of devotion (bhakti mārga)?, a friend called Shiba wrote about the practice of self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) as if it consists of two distinct stages, saying that to ‘concentrate on I-thought is preliminary stage’ and that the next stage is ‘real atma-vichara’, which begins ‘when our minds are fixed in Self’. In reply to this I wrote a comment in which I said:

Shiba, when you write in your first comment, “Atma is true Self. To fix attention on I-thought leads to Atma. Real atma-vichara begin when our minds are fixed in Self. I-thought is best clue to reach Atma and begin real atma-vichara. To concentrate on I-thought is preliminary stage and when other thoughts disappear and I-thought go back to the source (Atma), the next stage, real atma-vichara begin. I think those who can graduate from the preliminary stage are rare. I don’t know when I can graduate from the preliminary stage...”, you imply that ātma-vicāra consists of two distinct stages, and that only the second of these is ‘real atma-vichara’, but this is not actually the case.

Ātma-vicāra does not consist of any distinct stages, because it is a single process in which our self-attentiveness is progressively refined until we experience nothing other than ourself alone. Moreover ātman is ourself as we really are, whereas our ego or ‘I-thought’ is ourself as we now seem to be, so these are not two distinct things, but only one thing appearing differently. Since what we now experience as ourself is only our ego or ‘I-thought’ (which is a confused mixture of ourself and adjuncts), when we investigate ourself we are investigating ourself in the form of this ego, but as we focus our attention or awareness more and more keenly and exclusively on ourself, our ego subsides more and more, until eventually it will vanish in pure self-awareness, which is ourself as we really are (our real ātman).

What is cidābhāsa, the reflection of self-awareness?

In a comment on one of my recent articles, Can we experience what we actually are by following the path of devotion (bhakti mārga)?, an anonymous friend quoted a translation of verses 8 and 9 from Ātma-Vicāra Patikam (a song of eleven verses composed by Sri Sadhu Om about self-investigation, which is the first appendix in Sādhanai Sāram). What he wrote in verse 9 is:

நானெதென் றாய வஃது நலிவதற் கேதே தென்றால்
நானெனு மக விருத்தி ஞானத்தின் கிரண மாகும்
நானெனுங் கிரணத் தோடே நாட்டமுட் செல்லச் செல்ல
நானெனுங் கிரண நீள நசித்துநான் ஞான மாமே.

nāṉedeṉ ḏṟāya vaḵdu nalivadaṟ kēdē deṉḏṟāl
nāṉeṉu maha virutti ñāṉattiṉ kiraṇa māhum
nāṉeṉuṅ kiraṇat tōḍē nāṭṭamuṭ cellac cella
nāṉeṉuṅ kiraṇa nīḷa naśittunāṉ ñāṉa māmē.

பதச்சேதம்: நான் எது என்று ஆய அஃது நலிவதற்கு ஏது ஏது என்றால், நான் எனும் அக விருத்தி ஞானத்தின் கிரணம் ஆகும். நான் எனும் கிரணத்தோடே நாட்டம் உள் செல்ல செல்ல, நான் எனும் கிரண நீளம் நசித்து நான் ஞானம் ஆமே.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): nāṉ edu eṉḏṟu āya aḵdu nalivadaṟku ēdu ēdu eṉḏṟāl, nāṉ eṉum aha-virutti ñāṉattiṉ kiraṇam āhum. nāṉ eṉum kiraṇattōḍē nāṭṭam uḷ sella sella, nāṉ eṉum kiraṇa nīḷam naśittu nāṉ ñāṉam āmē.

English translation: If anyone asks what the reason is for it [the ego] being destroyed when one investigates what am I, [it is because] the aham-vṛtti [ego-awareness] called ‘I’ is a [reflected] ray of jñāṉa [pure self-awareness]. When together with the ray called ‘I’ the investigation [attention or scrutinising gaze] goes more and more within, the extent [or length] of the ray called ‘I’ being reduced [and eventually destroyed], [what will then remain as] ‘I’ will indeed be jñāṉa [pure self-awareness].

By attending to our ego we are attending to ourself

In certain contexts it is of course necessary for us to distinguish our ego from ourself as we actually are, because our ego is not what we actually are, but drawing this distinction is not necessary or helpful in every context, because what seems to be our ego is nothing other than ourself as we actually are. This seeming paradox can be reconciled by considering the analogy of a rope that seems to be a snake. The snake is not what the rope actually is, but what seems to be the snake is nothing other than the rope as it actually is.

If we were walking along a narrow path in semi-darkness and were to see what seems to be a snake lying on the path ahead of us, we would be afraid to proceed any further and would wait till the snake had moved away. However, if after waiting for a while we see that the snake does not move, we may begin to suspect that it is not actually a snake, in which case we would cautiously move forwards to look at it more closely and carefully. If it were not actually a snake but only a rope, our investigation or close inspection of it would reveal to us that what we had been looking at and afraid of all along was only a rope, so our fear of it would dissolve, and with a sigh of relief we would continue our walk along the path.

Our investigation or close inspection of the seeming snake would begin only after we have begun to suspect that it may actually not be a snake but only something else, such as a rope, so once this suspicion has arisen, we would stop insisting to ourself that it is a snake that we are looking at, but would instead consider it to be a seeming snake and perhaps a rope. This is similar to our position when we begin to investigate ourself, this ego. We investigate ourself or look closely at ourself only because we suspect that we may actually not be the ego that we now seem to be, but may instead be something else altogether. Now that this suspicion has arisen in us, we need not continue insisting to ourself that we are only an ego, but can with an open mind begin investigating ourself in order to find out whether we are this ego or something else.

Can we experience what we actually are by following the path of devotion (bhakti mārga)?

In a comment on one of my recent articles, In order to understand the essence of Sri Ramana’s teachings, we need to carefully study his original writings, a friend called Sanjay wrote, ‘I have also noticed that many of the current devotees of Bhagavan somehow are not able to reconcile to the advaitic standpoint of Bhagavan, Shankara and others, but are more comfortable to accept and believe in all their own dualistic ideas’, and this triggered a long discussion, with some other friends defending the path of dualistic devotion against what was perceived to be criticism of it by those who are more attracted to Bhagavan’s non-dualistic path of self-investigation (ātma-vicāra). This article is written partly in response to that discussion.

However, I actually began to write this article before that discussion started, and I did so in response to a comment on one of my earlier articles, What is unique about the teachings of Sri Ramana?, in which a friend called Viswanathan wrote:

[...] I feel that if one continues with total faith in whatever path one goes in, be it Bakthi Margam or Jnana Margam, the destination will be the same — realization of self. [...] it appears to me that it might be just an illusory divide in one’s mind that the two paths are different or that one path is circuitous and the other path is shorter.

Though there is some truth in what he wrote, we cannot simply say that the path of devotion (bhakti mārga) and the path of knowledge (jñāna mārga) are not different without analysing what is meant by the term bhakti mārga or ‘the path of devotion’, because bhakti mārga encompasses a wide range of practices, of which only the ultimate one is the same as self-investigation (ātma-vicāra), which is the practice of jñāna mārga.

The term nirviśēṣa or ‘featureless’ denotes an absolute experience but can be comprehended conceptually only in a relative sense

In a comment on one of my recent articles, The ego is essentially a formless and hence featureless phantom, a friend called ‘Sleepwalker’ quoted a sentence from its thirteenth section, Can self-awareness be considered to be a feature of the ego? (which I had quoted from We are aware of ourself even though we are featureless, the second section in one of my earlier articles, Being attentively self-aware does not entail any subject-object relationship), namely “When we say, ‘I slept peacefully last night’, we are expressing our experience of having been in a state in which we experienced no features”, and asked whether the peacefulness of sleep is not just a feature.

Since the concept of nirviśēṣatva (featurelessness or absence of any distinguishing features) is a significant and useful idea in advaita philosophy, and since it is very relevant to the practice of self-investigation, I decided to write the following detailed answer to this question:

Prāṇāyāma is just an aid to restrain the mind but will not bring about its annihilation

In a comment on one of my earlier articles, The fundamental law of experience or consciousness discovered by Sri Ramana, a friend called Chimborazo wrote:

Michael, sometimes it is said that the source of the ego (all thoughts, ‘I’-thought) is the heart. And the same heart is said to be the source of the breath. Therefore thoughts and breath have the same source. So if one holds one’s breath no thoughts would rise.

I cannot confirm that and I did not learn it in my experience of meditation. Please could you comment on this or clarify.

In reply to this I wrote a comment in which I explained:

Attending to our ego is attending to its source, ourself

A friend recently wrote to me referring to one of my recent articles, The ego is essentially a formless and hence featureless phantom, and asked:

In your most recent post there appears to be two subtly different forms of Self-Inquiry. On the one hand, there is a section in which we are told to turn the attention directly at the ego-I, investigating it. Doing so, it will disappear and be known to be a phantom. On the other hand, in another section, we are told to investigate the source, or “place” from which the ego-I rises in order to annihilate it.

How is karma destroyed only by self-investigation?

A new friend recently wrote to me asking, ‘When we do meditation on I or atma-vichara will all the previous karma be destroyed? How is that?’ The following is what I replied to him:

In order to understand the essence of Sri Ramana’s teachings, we need to carefully study his original writings

In various comments that he wrote on one of my recent articles, Dṛg-dṛśya-vivēka: distinguishing the seer from the seen, a friend called Joshua Jonathan expressed certain ideas that other friends disagreed with, so the comments on that article include some lively discussions about his ideas. I will not quote all of his comments here, but anyone who is interested in understanding more about the context in which this article is written can read them here, here, here, here, here, here, here and here. The following is my reply to some of the ideas he expressed in those comments:

The ego is essentially a formless and hence featureless phantom

In the fourth section of one of my recent articles, ‘Observation without the observer’ and ‘choiceless awareness’: Why the teachings of J. Krishnamurti are diametrically opposed to those of Sri Ramana, I wrote:

The important principle that he [Sri Ramana] teaches us in verse 25 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu is that this ego is only a formless and insubstantial phantom that seemingly comes into existence, endures and is nourished and strengthened only by grasping form (that is, by attending to and experiencing anything other than itself), so we can never free ourself from this ego so long as we persist in attending to anything other than ourself (that is, anything that has any features that distinguish it from this essentially featureless ego). Therefore the only way to free ourself from this ego is to investigate it — that is, to try to grasp it alone in our awareness. Since this ego itself is featureless and therefore formless, and since it can stand and masquerade as ourself only by grasping forms in its awareness, if we try to grasp this ego alone, it ‘will take flight’ and disappear, just as an illusory snake would disappear if we were to look at it carefully and thereby recognise that it is not actually a snake but only a rope.

Dṛg-dṛśya-vivēka: distinguishing the seer from the seen

In a comment that he wrote on my previous article, ‘Observation without the observer’ and ‘choiceless awareness’: Why the teachings of J. Krishnamurti are diametrically opposed to those of Sri Ramana, a friend called Venkat quoted two passages that record what Bhagavan replied on two occasions, first in response to a question that he was asked about the teachings of J. Krishnamurti and second in response to a comment about them.

‘Observation without the observer’ and ‘choiceless awareness’: Why the teachings of J. Krishnamurti are diametrically opposed to those of Sri Ramana

In a comment on one of my recent articles, What is meant by the term sākṣi or ‘witness’?, a friend called Sankarraman wrote:

I wouldn’t say that JK advocated witnessing of thoughts, since he has said that the witness being the ego is tied to thoughts. So that position extenuates him from that charge. But he speaks of the observation without the observer, which is similar to Patanjali’s extinction of thoughts as paving the way for liberation, which is called transcendental aloneness. There are a lot of parallels one can find in the two teachings except that they don’t constitute the flight of the Ajada.

In reply to this I wrote the following comment:

What is unique about the teachings of Sri Ramana?

Last Sunday I talked via Skype with a friend in Argentina about the teachings of Sri Ramana, and at the end of our discussion he asked me to write a summary of the main ideas that I had explained to him, because English is a foreign language to him, so he wanted to be sure that he had correctly understood and grasped all that I had said. This article is the summary that I wrote for him, so some of the ideas that I express in it were what I said in reference to what he had told me. For example, what I say about our inability to meditate on ourself continuously for five hours, or even five minutes, was with reference to what he told about how in the past when he was practising other forms of meditation he was able to meditate continuously for five hours, but that now when he tries to practise self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) he finds that he is unable to do so for even five minutes.

Being attentively self-aware does not entail any subject-object relationship

In a comment on my previous article, Trying to see the seer, a friend called Diogenes wrote:

Is it at all possible to be attentively self-aware, that is, paying close direct high concentrated undivided attention and looking intensely-carefully to anything featureless? To try to keep our entire mind or attention fixed firmly and unshakenly on that which sees, i.e. our ego, is surely a reflective activity of the subject, i.e. ourself. You say that we ourself are not an object. But to gently see, attend to or observe ourself seems to be just an objective process to which the subject is involved.

The following is my reply to this:

Trying to see the seer

A friend recently wrote to me a series of emails asking about the practice of self-investigation (ātma-vicāra), so this article is compiled and adapted from our correspondence.

Witnessing or being aware of anything other than ourself nourishes our ego and thereby reinforces our attachments

After reading my previous article, What is meant by the term sākṣi or ‘witness’?, a friend wrote to me expressing some thoughts that he had after reading it cursorily for the first time, so this article is adapted from the reply that I wrote to some of his ideas.

What is meant by the term sākṣi or ‘witness’?

When I attended a meeting of the Ramana Maharshi Foundation UK in London earlier this month, one of the questions I was asked was about the concept or practice of sākṣi-bhāva or ‘being a witness’. I do not remember exactly what I replied at the time, but after seeing the video that was made of that meeting, a friend wrote to me saying that he agreed that the term sākṣi or ‘witness’ as it is often used is a misnomer, and he recalled that Bhagavan said in certain contexts that we should take this term to mean just ‘presence’ (as in the presence of our real self) rather than ‘witness’. He also added his own reflections on this subject, saying:

Do we need to try to ignore all thoughts, and if so how?

A friend recently wrote to me saying:

When you say to experience “I” in total isolation, I try to ignore thoughts, and other perceptions. But the “ignoring act” seems to involve some sort of force. Otherwise its duration will be so short, the thoughts are pounding at the door quite soon. The somewhat forceful rejection of thoughts maybe is the wrong way to do it? To ignore thoughts sounds like a soft and tender way, but I feel it to be a bit harsh. I do not see any other way though.

This article is adapted from the reply I wrote to him.

What is the difference between meditation and self-investigation?

A friend recently asked me several questions about meditation and self-investigation, such as what difference there is between them, so this article is adapted (and the third and fourth sections are considerably expanded) from the reply that I wrote to him.

How we can confidently dismiss the conclusions of materialist metaphysics

In one of my recent articles, All phenomena are just a dream, and the only way to wake up is to investigate who is dreaming, I wrote:

Moreover, since we experience ourself existing in sleep, when we do not experience anything else, the fact that we exist independent of whatever else we may experience in waking or dream is self-evident. Therefore we need not doubt this fact, or suppose that our existence could depend upon the existence of our body or any other thing, as is wrongly supposed by most present-day philosophers and scientists.

Quoting this passage, a friend called Sivanarul wrote a comment in which he said:

Any experience we can describe is something other than the experience of pure self-attentiveness

Last month a friend wrote to me describing what he experiences when he tries to practise self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) and asking whether his description indicates that his practice is on the right track. This article is adapted from the reply I wrote to him.

The experience of self-attentiveness or self-awareness cannot be expressed in words, because it is featureless, so any words we use to describe what we experience when we are trying to be self-attentive are only a description of something other than pure self-attentiveness.

All phenomena are just a dream, and the only way to wake up is to investigate who is dreaming

In the seventeenth paragraph of Nāṉ Yār? (Who am I?) Sri Ramana advises us that if we wish to know what we really are, we should completely ignore and reject everything else:

குப்பையைக் கூட்டித் தள்ளவேண்டிய ஒருவன் அதை யாராய்வதா லெப்படிப் பயனில்லையோ அப்படியே தன்னை யறியவேண்டிய ஒருவன் தன்னை மறைத்துகொண்டிருக்கும் தத்துவங்க ளனைத்தையும் சேர்த்துத் தள்ளிவிடாமல் அவை இத்தனையென்று கணக்கிடுவதாலும், அவற்றின் குணங்களை ஆராய்வதாலும் பயனில்லை. பிரபஞ்சத்தை ஒரு சொப்பனத்தைப்போ லெண்ணிக்கொள்ள வேண்டும்.

Is there any real difference between waking and dream?

A couple of months ago a friend wrote to me asking:

You often say that there is, in essence, very little difference between the dream and waking states. Upon reflection it indeed does seem to be so.

However, there does seem to be one substantial difference. There is continuity in the waking state both of location and body. When we enter the waking state we always find ourselves in the same place we left it at. We also find ourselves with the same body that went to sleep.

The dream state, on the other hand, is not like that at all. When we enter the dream state we often find ourselves in completely different places. One time we may find ourselves in the UK, another time in America or some place of our youth, etc. We may even find ourselves travelling somewhere in the outer space.

Self-attentiveness and self-awareness

A friend recently wrote to me three emails in which he asked a series of questions about the practice of self-investigation (ātma-vicāra), and the following is adapted and expanded from the replies I wrote to each of his questions:

Intensity, frequency and duration of self-attentiveness

A friend recently sent me an email in which he wrote, ‘I now clearly see that it is bhakti alone that can make me better and stronger at atma-vicara’, to which I replied:

Yes, Sri Ramana used to say that bhakti (love or devotion) is the mother of jñāna (knowledge or true self-experience), and what he meant by bhakti in this context was only the love to experience nothing other than ourself alone, as he clearly implied in verses 8 and 9 of Upadēśa Undiyār:

Investigating ourself is the only way to solve all the problems we see in this world

More than a year ago a friend wrote to me asking some questions about Sri Ramana’s teaching that what we now believe to be our waking state is actually just another dream, and last month he followed this up with a series of three more emails asking various questions, most of which were concerning the same subject. This article is adapted from the replies that I wrote to these four emails.

First reply:

In his first email my friend asked how we got ourself into this state of dream or forgetfulness if our real state is consciousness or spirit, and how it is possible for us to remain all the time in the state of self-abidance or self-awareness if we are at work, and finally: ‘Can you be in the state [of self-awareness] and yet optimally perform in the dream state (in the world) or do you forgo one when doing the other?’ In reply to this I wrote:

Just being (summā irukkai) is not an activity but a state of perfect stillness

A friend wrote to me recently asking, ‘Is there any way to ascertain whether the feeling of “I” is being attended to? Is it enough if the mind’s “power of attention” is brought to a standstill?’ He also quoted the following (inaccurate) translation of question 4 and Sri Ramana’s reply in the second chapter of Upadēśa Mañjari (‘A Bouquet of Teachings’, or ‘Spiritual Instructions’ as this English translation in The Collected Works of Sri Ramana Maharshi is called), and asked ‘How can remaining still be considered as intense activity? Is being still a state of effort or effortlessness? I am slightly confused’:

4. Is the state of ‘being still’ a state involving effort or effortlessness?

It is not an effortless state of indolence. All mundane activities which are ordinarily called effort are performed with the aid of a portion of the mind and with frequent breaks. But the act of communion with the Self (atma vyavahara) or remaining still inwardly is intense activity which is performed with the entire mind and without break.

Maya (delusion or ignorance) which cannot be destroyed by any other act is completely destroyed by this intense activity which is called ‘silence’ (mauna).

The following is adapted from the reply I wrote to him:

Self-investigation and body-consciousness

A friend recently sent me a PDF copy of The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle, and referring to the sixth chapter of it, ‘The Inner Body’, he wrote:

The chapter that talks on the inner body is quite remarkable, by taking the attention away from thoughts/body/sense perceptions and into the energy field of the body, there is the clear and vibrantly alive feeling “I Am” and nothing else. Going deeper into it, the feeling of inside and out dissolves, subject and object dissolve, and there is this sense of unlimited, unbound (by the limits of the body) and unchanging beingness or I Amness. Can this be likened to self-attention? Or more clearly, is this the same practice? Because in both we are removing attention from everything except the feeling “I Am” and focussing it on the feeling. Could it be that only the description is different? Where you describe it as focussing the attention on the consciousness “I Am” Eckhart describes it as focussing the attention on the aliveness/consciousness that pervades the physical body to the exclusion of all thoughts. He goes on to describe the state of pure being when the attention goes more deep.

This article is adapted from the replies I wrote to this and to two subsequent emails.

Why is it necessary to consider the world unreal?

In several comments on some of my recent articles various friends have tried to argue that we need not be concerned about whether or not the world is real or exists independent of our experience of it. For example, in his first comment on Science and self-investigation Periya Eri wrote:

What is wrong in our deep-rooted “but unfounded” belief that the world exists independent of our experience of it? The statement saying that the world is unreal does not in the least change the fact that we have to master all difficulties in our life. The same evaluation goes for the conclusion that the world does not exist at all independent of our mind that experiences it. And the same is true of the statement that even the mind that experiences this world is itself unreal. Also the account that the mind does not actually exist at all and that after its investigation it will disappear, and that along with it the entire appearance of this world will also cease to exist. […]

In reply to this I wrote a comment in which I said:

Self-attentiveness is not an action, because we ourself are not two but only one

In the final paragraph of one of my recent articles, The connection between consciousness and body, I wrote:

So long as we allow ourself to attend to anything other than ourself, our body and all the other extraneous things that we thus experience seem to be real, so Sri Ramana advises us to try to attend only to ourself, the ‘I’ who is conscious of both ourself and all those other things. Therefore if we wish to follow his path and thereby to experience what this ‘I’ really is, we should not be concerned with our body or any connection we may seem to have with it, but should focus all our interest and attention only on ourself, the one absolute consciousness or pure self-awareness ‘I am’.

Referring to this, a friend wrote to me asking:

The terms ‘I’ or ‘we’ refer only to ourself, whether we experience ourself as we actually are or as the ego that we now seem to be

In a comment on one of my recent articles, The fundamental law of experience or consciousness discovered by Sri Ramana, Palaniappan Chidambaram asked, ‘If the whole sadhana [spiritual practice] is in just being one self […] then why do we use the term vichara or investigation? When thoughts come we don’t investigate but just ignore and turn attention to ourselves. So ideally there is no investigation or enquiry?’, to which I replied in a comment:

Since pure self-awareness is our essential nature, being ourself entails being clearly aware of ourself alone. Therefore trying to be aware of ourself alone is the only means by which we can succeed in being what we really are.

The connection between consciousness and body

A friend wrote to me recently saying that in a German book on Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu called Über das Selbst (‘About the Self’) the author has written that the absolute consciousness is connected through our navel, and asked me to comment on this. The following is adapted from the reply I wrote:

I assume that what is meant here by the term ‘consciousness’ is what is conscious, which is the sense in which it is generally used in the context of the teachings of Sri Ramana or any other form of advaita philosophy. It is important to clarify this, because ‘consciousness’ is used in a variety of different senses, so its exact meaning is generally determined by the context in which it happens to be used.

Why are compassion and ahiṁsā necessary in a dream?

Last June, a few weeks after I posted on my YouTube channel the May 2014 video of me answering questions at a meeting of the Ramana Maharshi Foundation UK, a friend called Jim wrote to me asking:

In your latest YouTube upload you talk about being vegetarian, and sweatshops, and signing petitions. I’m confused in this point. So much is said about this waking state being exactly like our dream state, what does it matter what we eat, or wear, or where our clothes are made? If in a dream I’m eating a chicken, a carrot or a car bumper none of it matters. Upon waking I realize it’s just a dream all created by my mind. There is no boy toiling in a sweatshop upon my waking right? So why is the waking state different?

The following is adapted from the long reply I wrote to him, and also from shorter replies that I wrote to two of his subsequent emails:

The fundamental law of experience or consciousness discovered by Sri Ramana

My previous article, Our aim should be to experience ourself alone, in complete isolation from everything else, was adapted from an email I wrote to a friend in reply to some questions he asked me about the practice of self-investigation (ātma-vicāra), which led to an exchange of further emails on the same subject. Therefore this article is adapted from the subsequent replies that I wrote to him.