The Upanishads for Awakening Abbot George Burke Swami Nirmalananda Giri 1 © Copyright 2012 by Light of the Spirit Monastery http://ocoy.org 2 Preface The upanishads The sacred scriptures of India are vast. Their importance is ranked differently according to the particular viewpoint of the individual. In Indian philosophy there are six darshanas, or systems of philosophy. They often seem to contradict themselves (and their professed adherents usually do contradict those of the other darshanas), but the wise know that they are only different ways of seeing the same thing, and it is that One Thing which makes them both valid and ultimately harmonious. That unifying subject is Brahman: God the Absolute, beyond and besides Whom there is no “other” whatsoever. Yet, according to differences in outlook, there is difference in evaluation of the scriptures. However, all followers of dharma in India agree that the Vedas are the supreme authority, and the Vedas are always understood to include those treatises of mystical and speculative philosophy known as the upanishads. They are also known as the Vedanta, “the end of the Vedas,” because they are the philosophical and spiritual culmination of the Vedic scriptures, and Veda literally means “knowledge” (vidya) in the sense of the ultimate knowledge of Brahman. The word “upanishad” itself comes from the root word upasana, which means to draw or sit near, and is usually considered to mean that which was heard when the student sat near the teacher to learn the eternal truths. We do not know who wrote or relayed from inner perception the Vedas or the upanishads. We do have the names of some of those considered the original seers of the Vedic knowledge, though we know virtually nothing about their lives. This has a distinct advantage over the scriptures of other religions, for then the image of a historical, finite personality does not intervene to obscure the revelation they handed on to their students. It is in no way unjust to say that in other religions concentration on, adulation, and worship of the person who gave the revelation has often obscured and even abrogated their purpose in giving the teachings. Words and behavior diametrically opposed to the Messenger’s teachings are sanctified by “devotion,” “love,” and “dedication” to “the Master,” “the Lord,” or “the Savior” who has a heaven to which he will welcome all faithful and believing devotees. “Following” is the ideal rather than becoming what the Teacher was. Lost in the personality of the Messenger, they forget the Message. Adore the Messenger and ignore the Message becomes the norm. The authority of the Vedic scriptures rests not upon those who wrote them down but upon the demonstrable truths they express. They are as self-sufficient and self- evident as the multiplication tables or the Table of Elements. They are simply the complete and unobscured truth. And realization of that Truth alone matters. Translation The upanishads have long interested students of philosophy in the West. The English philosopher Hume translated some of them into English in the eighteenth century. Later he travelled to America where he taught Sanskrit to Thomas Jefferson and together they studied the upanishads in their original form. The greatest boon seekers of truth in this country have received are the translations of the upanishads and the Bhagavad Gita–The Upanishads, Breath of the Eternal, and The Song of God, Bhagavad Gita–made by Swami Prabhavananda of the Vedanta Society of Southern California in the nineteen-forties. I was privileged to hear 3 him speak in 1962, and the value and clarity of his insights were remarkable. In his translations he did not attempt an exact literalism, yet they convey the meanings of the texts far better than most who try for literal wording. Reading his translation of the Gita changed my life in 1960, and everything which happened afterward was a consequence of that. My debt to him is incalculable and therefore unpayable. I looked at many translations before taking up the task of commenting on the upanishads, and I found Swamiji’s version inescapable. The Light of the Self (Atma Jyoti) radiates from the pages, conveying to us the illumination and blessing of his teacher Swami Brahmananda and his master, Sri Ramakrishna Paramhansa, of Whom it can be rightly said: “He shining, everything shines.” Omissions In his translations of some upanishads Swami Prabhavananda omitted parts that were in such obscure language that any attempt at translation would really only be speculation. He also omitted very repetitious passages and those that dwelt with matters irrelevant to the knowledge of Brahman and the Self. I think that if you get complete translations of those you will see he was quite justified in this. Anyhow, I am writing this to explain why in the references to the verses of the upanishads in this commentary there will be some jumping around. Further study If you wish further and more complete study of the upanishads, I recommend that you obtain from the Vedanta Society of Southern California (vedanta.org) the translations of Swami Gambhirananda and Swami Madhavananda. Also valuable are the translations of Swami Sivananda of the Divine Life Society and The Principal Upanishads by Radhakrishnan. 4 THE ISHA UPANISHAD Seeing all things in God The first Upanishad we will look into is the Isha Upanishad, so called from its opening word: ishavasyam. An instructive story Just before going to India for the first time in 1962, I had the great good fortune to meet and hear Sri A. B. Purani, the administrator of the renowned Aurobindo Ashram of Pondicherry, India. From his lips I heard the most brilliant expositions of Vedic philosophy; nothing in my subsequent experience has equaled them. In one talk he told the following story: In ancient India there lived a most virtuous Brahmin who was considered by all to be the best authority on philosophy. One day the local king ordered him to appear before him. When he did so, the king said: “I have three questions that puzzle–even torment–me: Where is God? Why don’t I see Him? And what does he do all day? If you can’t answer these three questions I will have your head cut off.” The Brahmin was appalled and terrified, because the answers to these questions were not just complex, they were impossible to formulate. In other words: he did not know the answers. So his execution date was set. On the morning of that day the Brahmin’s young son appeared and asked the king if he would release his father if he–the son–would answer the questions. The king agreed, and the son asked that a container of milk be brought to him. It was done. Then the boy asked that the milk be churned into butter. That, too, was done. “The first two of your questions are now answered,” he told the king. The king objected that he had been given no answers, so the son asked: “Where was the butter before it was churned?” “In the milk,” replied the king. “In what part of the milk?” asked the boy. “In all of it.” “Just so, agreed the boy, “and in the same way God is within all things and pervades all things.” “Why don’t I see Him, then,” pressed the king. “Because you do not ‘churn’ your mind and refine your perceptions through meditation. If you do that, you will see God. But not otherwise. Now let my father go.” “Not at all,” insisted the king. “You have not told me what God does all day.” “To answer that,” said the boy, “we will have to change places. You come stand here and let me sit on the throne.” The request was so audacious the king complied, and in a moment he was standing before the enthroned Brahmin boy who told him: “This is the answer. One moment you were here and I was there. Now things are reversed. God perpetually lifts up and casts down every one of us. In one life we are exalted and in another we are brought low–oftentimes in a single life this occurs, and even more than once. Our lives are completely in His hand, and He does with us as He wills” (“He hath put down the 5 mighty from their seats, and exalted them of low degree.” Luke 1:52). The Brahmin was released and his son was given many honors and gifts by the king. The Isha Upanishad opens with the answer to the question as to God’s whereabouts. He is within all “In the heart of all things, of whatever there is in the universe, dwells the Lord” (Isha Upanishad 1). Whatever we experience, whether through the inner or outer senses, it is a covering of the Lord (Isha). Since it conceals, it necessarily blinds, confuses, or inhibits us. It is a door closed in our face. Tragically, throughout lives without number we have not known this simple fact and have as a consequence believed that what we have experienced, whether objective or subjective, is the sole reality and have dissipated life after life in involvement with it to our pain and destruction. A door is never the way out: the way out is revealed when the door is moved aside–eliminated. Not knowing this, either, we have clawed, hammered, and hewn at the door–at least in those lives when wewere not adulating and worshipping it or calling it “God’s greatest gift to us”–to no avail. The root problem is our believing in the door’s reality, thinking that it is the beginning, middle, and end. Only when it disappears will we see the truth that lies beyond outer appearances. We must not just get inside things, we must get to their heart. And how is that done? By getting into our own heart, into the core of our own being. There everything will be found. The key to the door is meditation. Another viewing Prabhavananda has conveyed the ultimate message of these opening words of the Isha Upanishad. The literal translation, however, gives us another view which we should consider: “All this–whatever exists in this changing universe–should be covered by the Lord” (Translation by Swami Nikhilananda). Rather than speaking of piercing to the heart of things, the literal meaning is that the Lord should be seen covering–that is, enveloping–all things. This has two meanings. 1) What I have just expressed, that we should experience–not just think intellectually–that God is encompassing all things, that we should not see things as independent or separate from God, but as existing within God. And this vision should extend to us: we, too, exist only within Him. 2) In our seeing of things, God should always be between us and them. First we should see God, and only secondarily see the things. The renowned Swami (Papa) Ramdas in his spiritual autobiography In Quest of God writes of his initial spiritual awakening in these words: “It was at this time that it slowly dawned upon his mind that Ram was the only Reality and all else was false.…All thought, all mind, all heart, all soul was concentrated on Ram, Ram covering up and absorbing everything.” In the Bhagavad Gita, considered to convey the essence of the upanishadic wisdom, both Prabhavananda’s and the literal translations are put together when Krishna tells Arjuna that the wise see God in all things and all things in God. “Those who see Me in everything and see everything in Me, are not separated from Me and I am not separated from them” (Bhagavad Gita 6:30). He IS all If we accept the foregoing, then we will take the next step and experience that “He 6 alone is the reality” (Isha Upanishad 1). This can be understood more than one way. We can conclude that God alone is real and everything else is unreal. The problem with that is our tendency to equate “unreal” with non-existent, and wrongly belief that everything is only an illusion, that it has no reality whatsoever. The great non-dual philosopher Shankara explained the accurate view by likening our experience of things to that of a man who sees a rope in dim light and mistakes it for a snake, his mind even supplying eyes that glitter and a mouth that hisses at him. When light is brought, he sees that there is no snake, only a rope. The snake was not real, but his impression, however mistaken, was real and did exist. The rope was the reality and the snake was an illusion overlain on it. In the same way God is the reality and everything else is illusory like the snake. But illusion does exist. Denying it gets us nowhere; we have to deal with it by seeing through it, by dispelling it. Then we will see the reality: God. After that we can progress to the understanding that even though our interpretation may be wrong, what we perceive does have a real side to it, and that is God Himself. Hence, all things are God in their real side. The “wrong” side is in our mind alone. We can say that God is the reality of the unreal, which we need to see past. And that is the whole idea of the opening verse of the upanishad. He alone is real; He is all things. Be at peace “Wherefore, renouncing vain appearances, rejoice in him” (Isha Upanishad 1). All of our sorrows and troubles come from our mistaking vain appearances for reality, from our looking at them with our outer eyes instead of beholding God with the inner eye. But we are addicted to those vain appearances–we have to admit that. Yes, we are even addicted to all the pain and anxiety they bring us. That is foolish, but is it any more foolish than it is to be addicted to drugs or alcohol–or to people that harm us? We are insane on certain levels; this world is a madhouse for people of our particular lunacy. The sooner we understand this and resolve to be cured and released, the better things will be for us. For from “things” we will move on to God-perception. For this reason the yogis, those who seek God in meditation, should be the most cheerful and optimistic of people. If we look to God we will see only perfection and rejoice in it; if we look at ourselves, others, and the world around us we will see only imperfection and be discontent. Depression comes from looking in the wrong place. It is the bitter fruit of ego-involvement, of ego-obsession. The remedy is not to have “high self-esteem” but rather to have God-esteem. And since we live in God, we will see the divine side even of ourselves and be ever hopeful. Once God spoke to a mystic and said: “I am He Who Is. You are She Who Is Not.” Now to the ego that may sound hateful, but to the questing spirit it is a liberating assurance. The unreal which we call “me” need not be struggled with: it is only a ghost, a shadow. Bringing in the light of God-contact will reveal that to be the truth. Then we will be at peace and in perfect joy. What a burden is lifted from those who come to know that God alone is real and true, and that we need only look to Him. When we look within we find Him at the heart of our selves. We must renounce unreality. As I say, we are addicted to it, so we will have to struggle to break the terrible habit of delusion, just as those addicted to the hallucinations produced by drugs have to break away from them and discard them forever. Then we will “rejoice in Him.” Desirelessness “Covet no man’s wealth.” Why? Because it does not exist! It is just a bubble 7 destined to burst leaving nothing in its place. There are no “things” to covet or possess. They are the fever dreams of illusion from which we must awaken. No one really owns anything–firstly because the thing (as we perceive it) does not exist, and the “man” does not exist either; and neither do we–as least so far as our perceptions of “them,” “it,” and “me” go. God and I in space alone And nobody else in view. “And where are the people, O Lord!” I said. “The earth below and the sky o’erhead And the dead whom once I knew?” “That was a dream,” God smiled and said, “A dream that seemed to be true, There were no people, living or dead, There was no earth and no sky o’erhead There was only Myself–and you.” “Why do I feel no fear,” I asked, “Meeting you here in this way, For I have sinned I know full well, And there is heaven and there is hell, And is this the judgment day?” “Nay, those were dreams,” the great God said, “Dreams that have ceased to be. There are no such things as fear or sin, There is no you–you have never been– There is nothing at all but Me.” (“Illusion” by Edna Wheeler Wilcox). 8 Living a Life Worth Living How to live “Well may he be content to live a hundred years who acts without attachment who works his work with earnestness, but without desire, not yearning for its fruits–he, and he alone” (Isha Upanishad 2). It is generally felt that this verse–and other passages from scriptures and books on spiritual life–indicates that one hundred years is the normal lifespan for a human being. On the other hand, the figure of one hundred years may also symbolize the complete lifespan of a person, however brief or long, the idea here being that not one moment of our life need be a burden nor should we ever wish to shorten our life by a single breath–that life should be lived in fulfillment with peace and happiness all the way through. That this is possible has been shown well by the saints and masters of all religions and ages. We need only know how to do it; and these words give the way. Acting without attachment and desire In the Bhagavad Gita Krishna draws very clearly for us the picture of a person who lives in anxiety and misery and him who lives in peace and contentment. Both may be living in exactly the same situation, for it is not external conditions that make us happy or miserable, but our reaction to them. Krishna makes it quite plain that the secret of happiness or misery lies in the absence of two things: attachment and desire. Those who live in attachment to externalities, anxious to fulfill desire, must suffer and live in frustration. On the other hand, those who live without egoic desire are perpetually at peace. Nonattachment Krishna not only holds out the ideal for us, He also tells us how to accomplish it in the following verses from the Bhagavad Gita. “Perform every action with your heart fixed on the Supreme Lord. Renounce attachment to the fruits. Be even-tempered in success and failure; for it is this evenness of temper which is meant by yoga” (2:48). “In the calm of self-surrender you can free yourself from the bondage of virtue and vice during this very life. Devote yourself, therefore, to reaching union with Brahman. To unite the heart with Brahman and then to act: that is the secret of non-attached work” (2:50). “When your intellect has cleared itself of its delusions, you will become indifferent to the results of all action, present or future” (2:52). “The world is imprisoned in its own activity, except when actions are performed as worship of God. Therefore you must perform every action sacramentally, and be free from all attachments to results” (3:9). “Whosoever works for me alone, makes me his only goal and is devoted to me, free from attachment, and without hatred toward any creature–that man, O Prince, shall enter into me” (11:55). ‘Therefore, a man should contemplate Brahman until he has sharpened the axe of his non-attachment. With this axe, he must cut through the firmly-rooted Aswattha tree” (15:3). “No human being can give up action altogether, but he who gives up the fruits of action is said to be non-attached” (18:11). 9 “When a man has achieved non-attachment, self-mastery and freedom from desire through renunciation, he reaches union with Brahman, who is beyond all action” (18:49). In other words, keeping the mind on God frees us from egoic attachment to our activities. This is an extremely high ideal and one very hard to attain; yet we must strive for it through the practice of meditation, for only the clarity of vision reached through meditation can enable us to live out such a lofty ideal. Working with earnestness Lest we think thatnegative or passive indifference is detachment, or that carelessness and shoddiness in our daily work is spiritual-mindedness–a view that prevails in much of the Orient and among many in the West–the upanishad plainly tells us that the wise man “works his work with earnestness.” This is really a great portion of the Bhagavad Gita’s message: that we must work with skill to the best of our abilities–that is our part–while leaving the results to God–that is His part. In that way we truly are “workers together” with God (II Corinthians 6:1) in our life. Sri Ramakrishna said: “If you can weigh salt you can weigh sugar,” meaning that if a person is proficient in spiritual life he will be proficient in his outer life as well. That does not mean that all yogis need to become great successes in business or some other profession, but it does mean that they need to work with the full capabilities they possess and do absolutely the best they can–and need not worry about the results. In this way they will be at peace both internally and externally. Without desire The real cankerworm in the garden of our life is desire, whether in the form of wanting, wishing, yearning, desiring, hoping, demanding, or craving. Whether to a little or a great degree, desire destroys our hearts and our chances for inner peace. Desire is a wasting fever which drives us onward to spiritual loss. “For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?” (Mark 8:36). As Wordsworth wrote: “We have given our hearts away–a sordid boon!” I have spent my entire life watching people gain a little bit of the world and lose their souls. And ultimately they lost the world, too, either in the changes of earthly fortune or through the finality of death. “And he said unto them, Take heed, and beware of covetousness: for a man’s life consisteth not in the abundance of the things which he possesseth. And he spake a parable unto them, saying, The ground of a certain rich man brought forth plentifully: And he thought within himself, saying, What shall I do, because I have no room where to bestow my fruits? And he said, This will I do: I will pull down my barns, and build greater; and there will I bestow all my fruits and my goods. And I will say to my soul, Soul, thou hast much goods laid up for many years; take thine ease, eat, drink, and be merry. But God said unto him, Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee: then whose shall those things be, which thou hast provided? So is he that layeth up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God” (Luke 12:15-21). Desirelessness is not a zombie-like passivity, a kind of pious vegetating. Far from it. Krishna lauds the desireless in these words: “He knows bliss in the Atman and wants nothing else. Cravings torment the heart: he renounces cravings. I call him illumined. Not shaken by adversity, not hankering after happiness: free from fear, free from anger, free from the things of desire. I call him a seer, and illumined. The bonds of his flesh are broken. He is lucky, and does not rejoice: he is unlucky, and does not weep. I call him illumined. The tortoise can draw in 10