Sat1176

Another technique of self-surrendering whilst listening to the naad.

Simply enlightening. Self-Surrender There may be some days when the seeker experiences a great lack of energy to carry out his spiritual practice—because of excessive fatigue, poor health, or even unfavorable atmospheric conditions. He finds himself weighed down and incapable of stimulating himself sufficiently to approach his meditation in a lively manner. His efforts appear to him to be half-hearted and forced. He cannot reanimate his sentiment sufficiently for his spiritual aspirations to find their strength again so as to support him in his meditation and his spiritual exercises. He feels in a foggy state, inwardly arid, poor, and discouraged. It is precisely at these moments, when he cannot restimulate his mind and his sentiment so as to be able to approach his meditation practice and his various concentration exercises with the necessary fervor, that he must learn the subtle art of “self-surrender.” However, in order to avoid a trap that the aspirant risks falling into without being conscious of it, it is necessary to specify that this delicate approach of “self-surrender” does not, in any way, mean sinking into a state of soothing passivity or pleasant subtle inertia—which could easily occur in an unwise seeker. If the aspirant is not sufficiently attentive and circumspect, he will, before he realizes what is happening to him, find himself cradled in a state of pleasant absence to himself, inwardly sleeping more than ever and even, without being able to control himself, drowsing during his meditation. Unlike that condition of mental torpor (a state of physical or mental activity; lethargy), which may result in a sort of agreeable unconscious resignation from which it would be very difficult to detach oneself subsequently, here it is a question of attaining a very particular state of being, characterized by the highest and most subtle inner activity, accompanied by an intense awakening of consciousness. It is also an act of inward opening, extremely subtle and vivid, through which the seeker puts himself at the disposal of a force within himself which is beyond him and through which he will feel an extremely fine vibration and energy begin to act within him and animate his being. If he wants to progress on this arduous path, the aspirant must succeed one day in combining all the spiritual efforts he tries to make—whether during his meditation or his concentration exercises in active life—with this very delicate and subtle inner act of “self-surrender.” He will thereby come to apprehend, through direct experience, what it means to submit to and allow himself to be carried by a superior force within him, which does not depend on his ordinary will, while continuing, simultaneously, to assume his part of the effort, which he must, in any case, still make in this enigmatic spiritual adventure. This approach of “self-surrender”—which the seeker undertakes at the same time as he tries to meditate or to practice a spiritual exercise—is the most difficult inner act to understand and accomplish. It is only after many attempts and following repeated failures—everything depends on his level of being and his sensibility—that he will succeed. He will then come to realize intuitively the necessity of not intervening when a superior force begins to act within his being in order to support him in this difficult journey in quest of his Divine Identity. To help the aspirant better grasp what is so difficult to describe in words, it is perhaps possible to compare this subtle inner act of “self-surrender” with the attitude of a newborn who surrenders himself quite naturally to his mother, with total relaxation and trust—a way of being that the aspirant must come to feel within him through a particular and lively understanding. He must give himself to something else within him—which, to an extent, will always be beyond him—and allow the space within him to be occupied by this Superior Aspect of his double nature. He must allow It to manifest Itself in his being, according to Its Will and according to what It knows is good for him, so as to animate his aspirations and keep his various spiritual practices alive. If the seeker succeeds in undertaking this delicate inner step of “self-surrender” in a right way during his meditation or his other spiritual practices—without allowing himself to sink into a state of torpor or agreeable lethargy, which could seize him so surreptitiously that he may only realize what has happened to him when he is recalled to himself—and if he succeeds in liberating himself from his ordinary will and from all that he habitually wants and does not want, then an out-of-the-ordinary state of being will begin to reveal itself mysteriously within him. This superior state of consciousness will subtly replace his customary individuality and elevate him to another plane of being that is inhabitual to him. At these privileged moments, the aspirant will feel an immense reverential respect arise within him, because he will realize that what he feels belongs to another dimension, outside time and space, ordinarily unknown. At these most blessed moments, he will be permeated by a strange sentiment of the Sacred, accompanied by an indescribable Love, which will take possession of his being, filling him with tranquil felicity. * * * At the beginning of his mysterious spiritual adventure, the seeker may not realize that this inner act of “self-surrender,” which must, little by little, become for him a permanent and natural way of being, in reality constitutes an apprenticeship and an important preparation for the hour of his death, the hour of the dissolution of his corporeal form—a phenomenon that no living creature (who, for a usually unfathomable reason, has taken on a visible body), no celestial star, not even the Universe can escape. Knowing how to surrender himself inwardly will be an inestimable aid for the aspirant when the moment of his physical death comes and he is carried away by an invisible force, in the face of which he will find himself totally helpless. At that fatal moment, it will be so precious to him to be already familiar with this subtle inner approach of “self-surrender.” All his spiritual work must, in fact, become a preparation for that implacable hour, that crucial instant when he will be initiated into something whose immensity he cannot usually conceive—unless he has already had, during his meditation, a glimpse of that enigmatic state, into which he will be reabsorbed after his death; he will then be more confident and be able to surrender himself inwardly without fear when the moment comes for him. Self-surrender (which also involves renunciation of what one is in oneself and all that makes up one’s ordinary personality) will become easier to practice for the seeker the day he sees, with all of himself, the futility of his habitual state of being—a state of being and a way of feeling in which human beings are so tragically trapped, without understanding their situation or even being conscious of it. This delicate inner approach of “self-surrender,” which the aspirant must succeed in undertaking during his meditation and various spiritual exercises, will teach him to accept that life cannot be other than it is and, thus, to submit to the inevitable with the necessary understanding, which will allow him to bear with courage the vicissitudes of earthly existence. This particular attitude that he must, little by little, come to establish within himself, will also teach him how to assume his destiny without rebelling if that destiny seems difficult to him. It will also prepare him to accept his physical death without resisting when that inexorable moment arrives and the god of death stands before him in all his might, enjoining him to quit the world he has known hitherto for another world with which he will, willingly or not, have to familiarize himself. Paradoxically, “self-surrender”—if it is accomplished in a right way—can open to the seeker a door to the possibility of being. As long as he is not capable of being, he cannot do otherwise than react to the circumstances of external life. People are generally not capable of being; consequently, they have no control over their emotions, their thoughts, or the unfolding of their existence. Ordinarily, everything happens to them involuntarily. To be able to act or to have a certain degree of control over the events of their lives, they first need to be able to be. As long as they remain what they are, it is difficult for them to understand what it really means to act. Without ever knowing it, most of the time they only endure. They are constantly manipulated by those around them and drawn along by the changing conditions of the manifest world, without even being able to give any determined direction to their existence. When an aspirant begins to “be,” not only does he have a little choice in relation to the unfolding of his life, but he also attracts more favorable conditions than those he has known hitherto and which correspond to a new way of “vibrating” within himself. Thus, his new way of being can change the course of the rest of his sojourn on Earth. So as to avoid any misunderstanding about a approach that is so difficult to explain and to put into practice correctly, it is necessary to specify once more that this subtle act of self-surrender does not, in any way, consist in remaining inert and passive; on the contrary, it involves a particular inner opening, which makes the seeker extremely alert and through which the seeker is put into contact with an aspect of his nature that exerts the highest and finest inner activity, which he cannot know in his customary state—an aspect of his nature that never sleeps and that manifests itself through a form of consciousness that he cannot not recognize when it reveals itself to his inner vision. It is also important to emphasize that this act of “self-surrender” cannot, in any way, be conditional. It must, effectively, be accomplished without conditions of any sort, without expecting or anticipating anything, if the aspirant does not want to interfere with the action of a superior force that does not depend on his ordinary will and that may begin to manifest itself within him in order to illuminate his being. His attitude must be like that of a small child who does something simply for the pleasure of doing it. That is why the aspirant must be careful not to expect, consciously or unconsciously, a reward of any sort for any spiritual effort he tries to make. As the seeker detaches himself from his ordinary will and becomes more open and more inwardly receptive, he will see his prayer itself transform into wordless meditation. One has less and less to say, until a mysterious and tranquil inner silence installs itself within one. Only then does it prove possible to begin to hear within oneself what was hitherto inaudible. The Superior Aspect of his nature can be recognized by the aspirant only in the interval or the void separating two states or two thoughts. In this moment of silence and inner receptiveness, he will grasp this mystery that is usually completely inexplicable. God only recognizes him when he recognizes God! * * * To be aware of being consciousness of oneself is to begin to die to oneself and one’s ordinary will. It is also, paradoxically, to begin to be able to be, because it is only to the extent that the aspirant dies to himself that he begins to be. And it is only to the extent that he becomes capable of being that he can begin to act in life in a more right way, instead of simply reacting subjectively—as he habitually does. Self-surrender also involves, for the seeker, the surrender of all the things and all the beliefs that are useless to his spiritual evolution and to which he is so attached. Because human beings are cut off from their Primordial Source, their attachment to material goods, their beliefs, and their various physical sensations has become for them a way of assuring themselves that they exist. Their attachment to the beings and things around them gives them the feeling that their identity is assured; in this way, they unconsciously have the impression of perpetuating the survival of their physical bodies. And, curiously, they are even attached to their various torments, their griefs, and their irrational fears in order to have the assurance that they exist. Now, they do not see that their attachment to objects, to the people around them, and to external contingencies only reinforces their desires, which ceaselessly grow and trap them. Consequently, they draw ever further away from their Divine Essence and become more than ever incapable of regarding the world around them and manifest life in an uninvolved and objective manner. Through the study of himself and his various desires, the aspirant will come to notice that it is always the thought that appears first, then this thought leads to the action; in other words, the intention always precedes the act. There is also a close relationship between the action and the motive that incites the action, whatever it is. For that matter, every desire or every irrational dream of something he cannot obtain only causes torments within him. Moreover, every refusal of a situation or of the conditions of life in which his destiny has placed him only brings him sorrows—with no benefit to him. If the seeker succeeds in detaching himself, even if only a little, from his ordinary state of being, in order to study himself, he will remark the contrast between the rare moments when it is really he who speaks and the long moments when he is quite simply manipulated from outside and driven to speak, the contrast between the rare moments when it is truly he who listens and the long moments when he finds himself in the grip of the external and driven to listen, the contrast between the rare instants when it is truly he who acts and the long moments when, without ever being conscious of it, he is driven by external forces simply to react, and so on. Human beings are unaware of the way in which they are helpless and do not see the extent to which they are simply the playthings of external forces that are beyond them. As long as they remain unconscious of themselves and incapable of being, there can be no choice for them in anything. In the artistic domain, the creation of a pictorial or musical masterpiece can only be accomplished if the painter or the composer is capable, at least to some degree, of being while he brings forth his work. One is dazzled when contemplating the extraordinary paintings of Leonardo da Vinci or listening to the immense orchestral compositions of Richard Strauss or Gustav Mahler; however, the creation of such masterpieces was only possible because, without knowing it, the artists demonstrated, during the creative process, a certain degree of being. When this delicate approach of “self-surrender” is undertaken in a right way, it results in a very particular inner awakening. The aspirant will then be put in contact with a superior force and intelligence within him which will instruct him and guide him during his difficult journey in this form of existence. He will not only be protected from himself and his ordinary desires, but also helped so that his intellectual faculties and his physical aptitudes are used towards a more elevated goal than the dreams and ambitions he pursued hitherto. He will become more conscious of the external impressions he allows to infiltrate his being. He will also be able to see when he is influenced by inferior forces within him and when he is inspired by the Superior Aspect of his nature. However, this act of “self-surrender” must not, in any way, be accomplished with the desire, conscious or unconscious, of obtaining anything; that would be a sterile attitude that would bring him only disappointments or even torments. This approach must be free of all personal interest. Self-surrender, as well as attempts to remain inwardly present and awakened, must be acts of recollection and become a sort of silent prayer for the seeker. It is very important that the seeker realize that is only through his patient and repeated attempts to remain present and conscious of himself in the difficult conditions of the external world that he will break, little by little, the chains of his past karma and will protect himself from any act likely to bring him new karmic debts. He will also weaken and cause to disappear the undesirable tendencies installed within him and, thus, he will change the course of his current life and his future destiny. Moreover, by trying to remain conscious of himself at the same time as he tries to surrender himself inwardly, he will note, in a very particular manner, the uselessness of his ordinary state of being. An ardent wish will then be born within him to liberate himself from his servitude to the insatiable desires of his inferior self, which are obstacles on his route towards the Infinite. What prevents human beings from recognizing their superior nature and attaining enlightenment is that they are not capable of grasping, or rather that they are not ready to understand the subtle aspect that is behind manifest existence. Because of an unfortunate tendency within them to always seek ease in everything and in all that they do, their gaze and their attention are, without them realizing it, only attracted to the exterior and directed passively towards the visible and concrete aspect of life. They content themselves with what their sensory organs convey to them by way of impressions. Meditation practice and spiritual exercises have the precise goal of elevating the seeker’s level of consciousness in order to allow him to inwardly cross the threshold of the tangible and recognize, behind it, the subtle and immutable aspect of his double nature, which the laws of gravity and dissolution cannot affect. As, ordinarily, human beings are unaware of the superior aspect of their being, they lose themselves in the pleasures of the senses, in fantasies of all kinds, which bear no relation to reality or the maintenance of their earthly lives, and in futile mental ruminations that are often even self-destructive. The superior nature within them is a state of grace that eludes the comprehension of the mass of humanity, whose sole interest is centered on the visible and material aspect of Creation. When, through sincere and tenacious efforts, the aspirant succeeds in discovering the Light of his Superior Being and immersing himself in it, subtle creative energies will awaken within him, which will be able to accomplish miracles in his mind and in his way of seeing himself. These subtle energies will be able to give his existence a new direction, completely different from that taken previously. All that used to preoccupy him and be close to his heart before will then lose its importance in his eyes, thus liberating his mind and his thoughts, so that he can put himself at the disposal of this other aspect of his nature. The transformation that will occur in his being will make him capable of apprehending Creation from a radically different perspective. He will draw his inspiration and his strength from an invisible Universe within his being, allowing him to realize his superior destiny and bring wisdom and hope to his fellows who, unaware of the existence of another world within them, live only in discord and perpetual conflict, without gaining any benefit for their evolution from it. Self-surrender is, in fact, a simple approach, but not easy to perform. Because human beings have left the domain of sentiment to fall into that of thought, they have lost a certain tranquility of mind and the sense of beauty. Consequently, they live more and more on the surface of themselves and are now only governed by their minds, instead of being governed by the wisdom and the aesthetic sentiment of their Superior Being. Being thus transformed into a coldly intellectual being, their minds and their emotions have become dramatically active and leave them not a moment’s respite. From this aspect of themselves, they do not know and cannot know peace. Because of the incessant activity of their minds, the screen of clean and immutable consciousness that exists behind all this uncontrolled agitation and din within them always eludes them. Being receptive to something higher within oneself necessitates distancing oneself from what one is habitually and concentrating, without distraction, until one accedes to an inner silence, which alone can allow the Sublime within one to be discovered. When a fierce storm strikes the ocean, the waves attain spectacular heights and furiously crash together. However, although the waves are performing their wild and chaotic dance on the surface, as one plunges into the mysterious depths of the oceans, one finds ever more tranquility, until one comes to absolute calm. It is the same for human beings; the more they succeed in descending into the depths of their being, the more they find inner immobility and peace of mind. Yet, they are like corks without consistency, floating on the surface of the sea, swept along by the waves, which carry them where they will; when one tries to pull them down into the depths, they systematically bob back up to the surface, as though on a spring. * * * Despite their efforts and all the technical means they may invent, however prodigious these means may be, human beings cannot succeed in making permanent their bodies or the objects of their pleasure or the conditions of this world, which, like all things created in time and space, cannot but be unstable and in perpetual movement and which are prey to the god of death—in the same way as the planet, on which they live and on which they depend entirely for the maintenance of their physical existence, is in continual movement, always changing and inexorably destined to disappear one day. One can only know what is immutable and celestial within one when one succeeds in detaching oneself from one’s ordinary desires, in calming the agitation of one’s mind, and in creating within oneself a certain degree of silence. To succeed in this, it is first necessary to accept the inevitable—to accept the precarious and uncertain conditions of this form of existence that cannot be avoided—then to really understand what this important act of “self-surrender” consists in. Despite what the word “surrender” might suggest, paradoxically this action is not, in any way, passive, but rather, as previously mentioned, belongs to the highest and finest inner activity, which has nothing in common with the crude and obvious activity of the external world. It is only when the aspirant succeeds in being conscious of himself in a way that is not habitual to him, that he will come to be sufficiently distant from himself to notice what is happening within him most of the time and which, ordinarily, eludes him. He will thus be able to discover, with a new gaze, the various manifestations and tendencies of his profane self, which are obstacles to his spiritual quest. Through continual repetition of this gaze on the one who habitually acts within him, the distance between the one who sees and the one who is seen will increase and, the greater this distance between the one who sees and the one who is seen, the greater will be the possibility for the seeker of recognizing this mysterious Immutable and Silent Spectator that he carries in his being. The aspirant will begin to perceive better, in brief flashes at the beginning, the aspect of himself from which he must detach himself so as to be capable of seeing what is happening within him. And, as he continues to observe who is acting within him habitually, a very particular knowledge of what must be inwardly sacrificed throughout his whole life—to allow his superior nature to reign in his being—will grow within him, in an ever clearer way. Self-surrender will also prove to be closely linked to the surrender of his ordinary self—of his individuality as he usually knows it. It is only on the day that he truly recognizes the futility of persisting in nurturing the changing and meaningless fantasies of his profane self that he will find the strength to turn his gaze inward, towards that other aspect of his double nature and to use the precious gift of his attention to maintain himself in that state of being that he must, henceforward, try to hold onto with all of himself. However, it is important to understand that the seeker will be unable to renew this effort of presence to himself—which is the condition of an inhabitual state of consciousness—if he is already carried away and engulfed in his customary state of absence, for, once trapped in this state of absence, it is impossible for him to remember to accomplish this particular effort so as to be inwardly present and conscious of himself. It is only after some time of absence to himself, when a recovery of consciousness suddenly occurs within him, that the aspirant will discover that not only was he absent the moment before, but also that this recovery of consciousness mysteriously occurred within him without him having sought it. This state of consciousness, which manifests itself within him in such an apparently unexpected way, is the result of his previous attempts to remain present to himself. This reminder arises within him as a reward for his previous efforts so as to help him better grasp what is involved for him in this spiritual practice that is so out of the ordinary and what his contribution must be in this strange adventure. What is required of the seeker at such moments is to try, with all his seriousness, to prolong this precious inhabitual presence for as long as possible, before it deteriorates and once again merges with his ordinary state and he loses it completely. It is necessary for him to realize that, once he has felt and recognized this particular consciousness within him, his task will then consist of trying to preserve it for as long as possible or, at the very least, to renew it before it becomes too weak and finally vanishes completely. By constantly trying to revive this state of presence within himself every time it begins to deteriorate and lose its initial force, the aspirant will, little by little, come to know the weak points that cause his fall. He will also be able to see once more that this inhabitual consciousness of oneself inevitably involves the renunciation of oneself and what one usually is—this habitual way of being and feeling which is so deeply rooted in human beings following long conditioning and to which they are not only enslaved, but also, curiously, tragically attached. Every time the seeker tries to remain conscious of himself, he will remark ever more clearly his enslavement to his customary state of being and the various penchants within him which prove to be obstacles to his spiritual aspirations. Thus he will understand, from the depths of himself, the necessity of liberating himself from all these tendencies in order to be capable of obeying something more elevated within him. It is only to the extent that he succeeds in remaining present and joined to this other aspect of his nature that the transformation of his undesirable traits can be effected. The aspirant’s attitude plays a determining role in this difficult inner approach. What matters here is that he continues to observe the manifestations of his inferior nature with the necessary tenacity and patience, but in an uninvolved way and without allowing, at any moment, a feeling of guilt to install itself within him. Corporeal sensation contributes enormously to helping the seeker become more present and conscious of himself. It also encourages that movement of “coming back to oneself” as well as a state of recollection, which is so important on every spiritual path. When the seeker succeeds in holding onto this particular state of consciousness and increasing its duration, it will prove to be both a detachment from what he usually is and a mysterious inner act of wordless prayer. Furthermore, he will discover that his desire to maintain this state of consciousness of himself is, in reality, a secret and imperative need to be. He will come to realize, from the depths of his being, in a way that is quite impossible to describe in rational language, that sinking into his habitual condition of absence to himself or waking sleep is a death and that, conversely, every time that inexplicable movement of coming back to himself occurs—after a brief or long moment of absence—and he finds this inhabitual state of presence again, this recovery of consciousness of himself is a true resurrection. He will then realize, in a way that will shake him, that this spiritual quest is truly a matter of life or death for him. * * * It is only to the extent that the aspirant is capable of remaining present to himself that he can be. However, he must first renounce in order to be able to be and, paradoxically, he must also be—at least to some degree—in order to be able to renounce. Thus, renouncing and being are two conditions that, on a spiritual path, are in continual interdependence. When the day comes that the seeker has the experience of being, even if only weakly to begin with, a strange intuition will arise within him. He will understand that, in fact, one does not need external supports or a physical body to be able to be and that, deep down, being is his true nature—which, generally, remains hidden from him, veiled by his ordinary personality which always needs external stimuli to succeed in feeling its existence. As long as human beings remain as they are, ignorant of their True Identity, no choice is possible for them in the unfolding of their sojourn on Earth; everything happens to them without them being able to change anything. To begin to have a little choice in life, it is first necessary to be a little. And to be able to be, it is first necessary to renounce. Now, to be able to renounce, it is necessary to have understood. Finally, to be able to understand, it is necessary to know what sort of questions to ask oneself—and how to ask them. If these questions are taken seriously by the aspirant and he is capable of keeping them alive within him, with the ardent desire to discover the enigma of his existence on this Earth, they will then, little by little, engender within him the intuitive understanding that his immortality—a word that falls so easily from people’s lips, but whose real meaning is generally so misunderstood—depends on his capacity to be. The seeker needs to accept participating with the Divine in the creation of his future being by making, throughout his life, efforts to regularly practice meditation as well as various spiritual exercises in active life. The Divine cannot oblige human beings to renounce their own will—what they are, what they want and do not want ordinarily—in order that Its Will be done. It would be unjust to force them and it would also not be in accordance with the rules of the Cosmic Game. The aspirant must, of his own accord, come to consent, through a vivid and sincere comprehension, to helping his Creator in Its Mysterious Work so that his accession to a completely different plane of being might be accomplished—a particular evolution, inconceivable to human beings in their habitual state. It is first necessary to understand in order to be able to renounce. It is first necessary to renounce in order to be able to remain conscious of oneself. It is first necessary to remain conscious of oneself in order to be able to be. And, paradoxically, it is necessary to succeed in being a little in order to be able to remain conscious of oneself. It is necessary to succeed in remaining conscious of oneself, even if only a little, in order to be able to renounce. And it is necessary to succeed in renouncing, at least to some degree, in order to be able to understand. Understand what? Renounce what? What does it mean to remain conscious of oneself? What does it mean to be? If someone is not profoundly motivated to approach such practice, the immensity of this spiritual work will frighten him and the tenacious efforts to be made will deter him. However, if the seeker tirelessly pursues his efforts—without considering a distant goal, but only the present moment—he will be able to continue his spiritual practice without becoming discouraged. He will nevertheless need all the help possible to accompany him and support him in his mysterious journey towards the Infinite. Thus, in addition to the corporeal sensation, mentioned earlier, he will sometimes have to use his breathing as a support. Taking a slow, deep breath from time to time during the day, with a brief retention of the breath after the inhalation, constitutes an aid to recenter oneself inwardly and find again in oneself that inhabitual state of being. Through these repeated efforts, the aspirant will come to see the extent to which he ordinarily only lives and acts from the surface of himself. He will then realize that succeeding in centering himself inwardly demands that he let go of and renounce all that usually preoccupies him, as well as surrendering to something within him whose existence he can only sense in the moments when he is trying to distance himself from himself in order to meditate or to perform a concentration exercise. * * * The seeker must remain on his guard and be careful not to approach this spiritual practice with overly rational thought, for this would smother the intuition within him; it would prevent him from accomplishing in a right way this subtle approach of “self-surrender”—which is of extreme importance in this quest. Furthermore, overly rational thought could eventually engender physical, psychic, and emotional tensions within him. Through continual practice of this inner act, the aspirant will finally discover that the fact of being conscious of himself and self-surrender are both closely linked to his sentiment and to a particular awakening within him. He will also perceive that this approach cannot be undertaken while relying on his mind or cold and rational thought. If he accomplishes it in a right way, he will then find himself in a state of extreme tranquility and inner receptiveness. The seeker can use the following exercise, (The author has never allowed a day to pass without practicing this special exercise for half and hour himself – often longer, when his activities allow him to) as an aid, in order to succeed in sensing what this subtle “self-surrender” consists in. He must lie down on the floor (or on his bed) with his head on a fairly flat cushion and his arms alongside his body. He needs to bring his attention to bear on all the parts of his body that are in contact with the floor (or his bed) and try, relentlessly, to remain conscious of them. When he can really feel all the parts of his body that are touching the floor, he must then put, or rather “drop” the weight of his body onto all these points simultaneously. He must remain very attentive to the parts of his body that are in contact with the ground and feel them without interruption, while continuing to “drop” the weight of his body onto these points. At the same time, he needs to listen to and follow the mysterious continuity of the Nada, that particular sound inside his ears, while being careful not to be, at any moment, overcome by a state of torpor—which may occur if he is not sufficiently vigilant. Remaining thus attentive to all the parts of his body that are touching the floor and continuing to “drop” the weight of his body onto these contact points, he will begin to feel pervaded by an immense corporeal and psychic relaxation. All his sorrows, his day-to-day worries, and his physical problems will mysteriously fade into the background, making way for a strange well-being that is not of this world. An intense sensation of surrender will take hold of him, and he will then feel the curious sentiment of being carried by an inner force that is beyond him and that does not depend on his ordinary will, which may even bring him the impression of being freed from the laws of gravity—an impression that he may also have when he attains a state of profound absorption during meditation. The aspirant must not, at any moment, allow himself to comment on what is happening within him, nor seek to explain it, in order to avoid interfering with this mysterious process which he must allow to act within him and nourish his being. He needs, quite simply, to continue to surrender himself with a tranquil confidence in that force that has awakened within him—just like newborns surrender themselves in the loving arms of their mothers, with absolute confidence, without concerning themselves over what will happen to them or worrying about the protection of their bodies or the satisfaction of their physical needs. The existence of every human being should unfold in the same state of mind as that of a newborn. Seekers must consecrate themselves to their spiritual quests without worrying about their futures, without fearing for the survival of their corporeal envelope, and without having an unreasonable fear of the external world. They must simply live in the present. What has just been said must not, however, be interpreted as an incitation not to fulfill one’s duty towards those close to one or not to assume one’s responsibility towards manifest life—which nourishes and sustains the aspirant’s existence in a thousand ways and to which he owes a debt he will never be able to repay. All that he does must be done with the maximum of care and as perfectly as possible, because the way he accomplishes his daily tasks, not only reflects what he is in himself at the present moment—and, consequently, has a favorable or unfavorable effect on his spiritual practice—but also determines what he will inevitably become in the future, for better or worse. When a certain threshold is crossed—whether during this exercise of “self-surrender” or during his meditation—the seeker must quite simply remain in a peaceful state of watchfulness, without seeking, desiring, or anticipating anything. He needs only to submit to that Indescribable Aspect of his nature, in relation to which his ordinary will no longer has any place, and allow It to do what It wants with him. The summit of meditation is reached when the aspirant has lost his individuality as he habitually knows it and he has become one with his Primordial Essence, absorbed into that mysterious Immutable and Celestial Witness that he carries in his being.

I was just reading the significance of having a slight gap between breathing. "Taking a slow, deep breath from time to time during the day, with a brief retention of the breath after the inhalation, constitutes an aid to recenter oneself inwardly and find again in oneself that inhabitual state of being." It also helps balance flow in the two nostrils.

Bhai Balbir Singh has started weekly Katha on Sukhmani Sahib with emphasis on the aspects of naam abhiyaas and various nashanies along the way.

He pronounces it with a very short e, which most are not accustomed to and have never heard it said this way or sung in this manor. But what you need to appreciate is that the gurmantar is being used as a mantra in two quick parts with a distinct pause between the two parts "Wahe-Guru". One for inhale and the other for exhale. As you progress to doing simran faster and faster from bakhari, to quick saas saas, to even rom rom where you are saying it rapidly in sync with each beat of the pulse, you will begin appreciating the method that he uses as it is kept consistent through each of the stages. It takes a bit of getting used to as most are used to saying it in a elongated fashion of waaheeeguroo. This pronunciation won't work with rapid simran. Try for yourself and see.

Have you read through the all posts in this thread and the Mediation section already? Newcomers should start there. Expecting us to summarise it so you don't have to make the effort is expecting bit much. We are already sharing with this forum as much as we can as we learn ourselves slowly on this path. There is quite a lot info on the subject here already which has taken years to accumulate. Most who read this thread probably don't believe in it anyway yet. It's one thing knowing about it, and it is another actually practising it. What we have accumulated here is intellectual gyan that those who seek may find useful as it is really hard to come by. From what I have read and understood, the real gyan will come when we actually practice and dive in. The Divine bestows this gyan when we surrender ourselves, and this is very hard to do. Most of us can't even stop the chatter of our mind longer than a minute or two and just be present listening. Start with WaheGuru Gurmantar first. Build a solid foundation in this where you can keep your dhyan present and focused on it for decent period of time without useless chatter occurring and your mind drifting off into the waves of other thoughts. You will be astonished to observe how frequently your mind wonders.

I bought first one on Amazon Kindle. Then I was offered 30 day free trial on Kindle unlimited where you can read it for free. The 2nd one just reinforces the understanding of the mind and it tendencies to wonder and leave the present moment. There are other good chapters like Introvert vs Extrovert mind.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0713ZW118/ There are a few great chapters. I will see what I can share.

Attention Every living creature—even a simple cell, however infinitesimal it may be—is conscious of its own life and apprehensive of death. From the moment that living beings—whether humans, animals, or corpuscles (i.e. minute body or cell in an organism) invisible to our senses—acquired a fragile body, continually menaced by all sorts of predators, by natural disasters, and by death, the necessity to protect it has engendered within them the elusive faculty of attention—which varies for every species, according to its degree of evolution, its intelligence, and its level of being. As, from their birth, living beings are obliged to struggle by all possible means to assure their subsistence and protect themselves from all that puts their physical existence in peril, they are, despite themselves, constrained to exert their attention without respite (i.e. without a short period of rest from something difficult or unpleasant) so as not to lose what has become most precious to them: their carnal envelope. For, as soon as a certain perception of their existence awakens within them, their corporeal form transforms into an indispensable instrument, by way of which alone they can feel themselves and be conscious of their existence in this world. Paradoxically, all these dangers that ceaselessly menace their survival not only encourage them to appreciate their incarnate existence, but also play a preponderant role in the development of their attention and in the growth of their intelligence. It is necessary—especially for a seeker already engaged on a spiritual path—to understand and accept the fact that, contrary to what one habitually thinks, without these external dangers that constantly menace human beings’ lives, without the unexpected problems that they must perpetually resolve, and without the physical and emotional suffering linked to such an uncertain and precarious earthly existence, they would sleep within themselves forever; there would be no way of persuading them to make the effort to awaken in order to discover within themselves another universe, beyond time and space, which alone can give meaning to their life. It is only with the development of attention that human beings’ intelligence grows. Their attention constitutes the third part of a trinity within them; it is situated between the Superior and Celestial Aspect of their nature, and the inferior and ordinary aspect of themselves. * * * Without the aspirant realizing it, his attention is the most precious weapon and the most precious treasure he possesses. When he allows his attention to be attracted and held by something, whatever it may be, without him being conscious of it, he places that thing between the Sublime and himself. And, as time passes, he finally becomes too identified with and attached to what holds his attention—whether that be an object of pleasure or a human being—which thus forms a screen between the Sacred and himself, blinds him, and does not allow the Divine Light to reach and illuminate his being. It proves vital for a seeker who has just set himself to meditation or Yoga practice, to be on his guard from the beginning, in order to clearly see that, whatever the object his attention gravitates towards, it is there that he will indubitably find himself. Every thought that occupies his mind, consciously or unconsciously, is only nurtured and maintained within him by his attention. It is his attention that gives it life. If he does not consent to give it his attention, this thought cannot continue to exist within him; it dies through lack of nourishment. Habitually, human beings do not realize to what extent nor in what way their attention constitutes a sort of combustible substance, because it is only through their attention that their thoughts and imaginings can find the force to manifest themselves and subsist within them. Without them being conscious of it, their attention acts as the indispensable combustible material through which their minds can dream and wander where they like—just like the oil in a lamp, which feeds and keeps alive the flame of the wick. Now, the Divine Aspect of human beings also has need of this combustible substance, of their attention, to be able to reveal Itself in their beings and manifest Itself within them. It is the precious gem of their attention that human beings use to set in motion their pointless inner chatter (which imprisons them within themselves and renders their lives sterile), their physical or other desires (which they want, most often, to satisfy without worrying about the consequences), as well as their incessant dreams of permanent earthly happiness (impossible to attain in this form of existence, which is so changeable and full of unexpected events). Without attention, no thought, no fantasy, no covetousness can take life within them. If the aspirant succeeds in awakening, even if only a little, in order to be sufficiently distant from himself, so that he can see what his attention is wasted upon most of the time and what kinds of useless and worthless thoughts or fantasies he is constantly nurturing and keeping alive within him through the precious tool of his attention, he cannot but be horrified! Human beings do not realize that at every moment they are forging themselves into what they are and what they will become, through the kinds of thoughts they allow themselves to feed with the precious treasure of their attention. They do not see the extent to which, unbeknownst to them, they are ceaselessly manipulated by their minds. Human beings are, in a way, comparable to land that one wants to make fertile. To start with, the weeds must be eradicated, the soil turned so that it can breathe, then fertilizer needs to be added; after that, the seeds have to be planted and every young seedling cared for daily so that it can become a tree bearing a great quantity of fruit that will, in the end, contribute to feeding a multitude. The seeker must also consent to go through fairly similar stages: first he must clear his mind, through conscious efforts, then he must sow, in the field of his being, all that is positive and noble so that he can be transformed into a fine instrument that is useful to his Creator and to his fellows. And it is precisely here that his attention plays such an important role in the transformation of himself and his tendencies. In addition, a plant needs light to survive. It is also necessary to water it regularly to assure its healthy growth. In the same way, the superior aspirations of human beings need to be continually fed by the spiritual light provided by reading sacred texts and spending time with men and women who are more evolved than they are. These aspirations also need to be fed every day by attention, so as to assure not only their survival, but also their development within human beings, because if these superior aspirations are not restimulated and maintained day after day, it will be human beings’ ordinary thoughts that will gain the upper hand and inhabit them to their cost. Thus they will live only a banal and vegetative existence. Their sojourn on this Earth will unfold only in the perpetual concern with preserving their physical envelopes and gratifying their various needs. The aspirant must understand that unless he makes conscious and tenacious efforts to awaken to another world within him, a world that belongs to another dimension, beyond time and space, he is programmed by Great Nature to be nothing but an instrument of reproduction, animated by an irrepressible sexual desire in order to serve its design, which is the perpetuation of the species. The sort of attention that human beings generally possess is sufficient for the protection and maintenance of their planetary bodies. However, it is far from being what is necessary for a spiritual quest, which demands a different sort of attention, entirely unknown ordinarily—such a subtle, alert, and vivid attention that it alone can allow the seeker to approach true meditation practice as well as true spiritual work in his daily life. * * * There is a particular link between attention and thoughts. As previously mentioned, it is attention that, without them being conscious of it, works in human beings like combustible material and, thus, animates and perpetuates thoughts within them. And they vibrate within themselves according to the sorts of thoughts that habitually unfold in their minds. Furthermore, they cannot avoid drawing to them the particular conditions corresponding to the way they think and vibrate within themselves. In their ordinary, passive state of being, they do not see that it is their minds that use them and not they who use their minds. It is here that lies the cause of all the misunderstandings and the dissension in the world, because the judgments people habitually make are solely based on what gives satisfaction to their desires and their ambitions and depend on what they believe to be good or bad. They are not capable of reflecting objectively nor of creating sufficient silence within themselves to be able to respond to the call of something more elevated in their being so that a change in their way of thinking and being might occur within them. An unenlightened person wishes for the world and all that surrounds him to conform to what he wants and does not want, as well as what he thinks is good or bad. Another does not agree with him, as he also desires everything to correspond to what he does and does not like and the way he thinks things should be. A third is outraged by what the other two want, for he also has his own ideas about the way everything should work. And so wars break out with all the destruction and suffering they bring in their wake. This phenomenon, alas, is even found in the various religions of the world. Because they are cut off from their Divine Source, human beings do not see that they are only thinking and acting through their ordinary aspect. Everyone has his or her own opinions about the way things should be and wants to impose his or her beliefs on others, by force if necessary. It is important for someone who has just set out on this spiritual journey in a country that is, as yet, unknown to him, to realize, with all of himself, that every tenacious thought, every fantasy (sexual or otherwise) and all inner chatter can only arise in his mind and continue to live within him through the invisible combustible element of his attention, which he consents to give to them. Without him usually being conscious of it, the priceless gem of his attention is, most of the time, wasted in feeding all his thoughts, all his fantasies, and all his inner chatter (most often harmful to himself as well as others), thus allowing them to occupy the hearth of his being—and always at his expense. As long as human beings use their attention to nurture and keep alive all that unfolds in their minds—without discrimination between what is useful and constitutes an aid to their spiritual evolution and what proves unfavorable and is a hindrance to that evolution—and as long as they continue, blindly or through weakness, to allow these spectral entities to take root in their beings, these entities will always remain masters of their inner dwelling, taking the place that should be occupied within them by their Supreme Self. In discovering the dark aspect of his inferior nature, instead of being discouraged or even demoralized, a motivated seeker can use all of his negative thoughts, every feeling of ill-will, and every harmful tendency he discerns in himself—on condition that he regards them without identifying or being emotionally involved with them—as so many means to awaken and turn towards another world within himself, where reigns the unchanging silence of his Celestial Being—just as a bird uses the very resistance of the air as a support to rise aloft. In this way, a mysterious and invisible alchemy may begin to operate in the aspirant, to transform the “crude metal” of his ordinary self into sparkling “Gold.” All his unfavorable penchants and habits—which not only have crystallized within him since he arrived on this Earth, but have also plunged their roots into a time that is so mysteriously distant—must inevitably go through the furnace of ardent work on himself to be sublimated and transformed into traits of inner beauty, so that he becomes worthy of bringing to others the Divine Light and spiritual knowledge he will have acquired after so many years of hard and tenacious efforts. It will then be possible for him to have a glimpse of the real meaning of the word “love”—a word that springs so often from people’s mouths, but whose true sense is so misunderstood, the sentiment itself being so rarely felt. This word “love,” which turns up continually in everyday language, is, alas, even used to express tastes or opinions on things that are entirely banal and unimportant! Ordinarily, one does not see that, generally, one speaks without being conscious of oneself or of what one is saying. The speed with which most people verbally express their thoughts—often without reflecting upon the true meaning of their words or the effect they have on others—does not allow them to see that they are only repeating formulae or phrases acquired mechanically from childhood, which have become habits within them that they practically never question. People do not realize that the word “love”—which is commonly uttered so easily, without concern for the use made of it or what one is associating it with—also signifies attention and compassion, because compassion cannot be dissociated from love. Again, one cannot but remark the extent to which attention proves to be a vital element in a seeker’s work and that it intervenes in all domains, including that of love. If human beings were sufficiently conscious of themselves—that is to say conscious in a way that is not habitual to them—and masters of their attention, they could no longer speak or act as they do ordinarily. Indeed, what one generally calls “love” is, most often, only the expression of the desire to gratify pressing physical needs or to satisfy one’s personal ambitions and interests of the moment. Moreover, human beings are, most of the time, so imprisoned within themselves and so identified with their daily worries that they practically never consider the problems or needs of others in a right way. Sometimes it takes very little for what one calls love to transform into indifference, if not hate. As long as human beings remain cut off from their Divine Source and as long as they do not know, through direct experience, the Divine within themselves, they, most often, only unconsciously obey an instinct of preservation that arises in their profane selves and drives them to live only for themselves and for the various goods they want to obtain from the great external world, in order to meet the pressing demands of their little inner worlds. As they ordinarily are, they are far too identified with what is happening most of the time in their minds, with their daily problems, and with their various physical needs to succeed in being sufficiently distant from themselves in order to begin to know themselves. Because of their conditioning, they spend their terrestrial existence with a sort of stranger within them or, one could even say, with an invisible entity that has taken possession of their beings, which inhabits them and manipulates them as it will, according to its desires of the moment. Furthermore, as their habits—whether they are good or bad—ceaselessly grow and become crystallized within them as they age, all that they see or hear around them sets in motion a mechanism that, without them being conscious of it, automatically sets off within them associations of ideas and corresponding emotions that succeed one another with great rapidity, just like in their nocturnal dreams. In all these mental processes, it is their attention that, without them perceiving it, is taken from them and used, most often, futilely. Unless they have the chance to meet someone who helps them to awaken, they will continue to remain at the mercy of this stranger within them—with which they are so identified, to the point of taking it to be themselves. This invisible aspect of their personalities keeps them in its grip and uses them for the gratification of its various ambitions and its physical appetites, which not only all constitute obstacles to their spiritual fulfillment, but also ceaselessly cause problems for their fellows as well as all other living creatures who have the misfortune to share this planet with them. Without them ever being conscious of it, the thoughts of human beings continually twist and turn and change direction endlessly within their minds, like clouds in the sky, at the will of the wind. Furthermore, like sleepers who—unless they are awoken—do not know that they sleep, they also do not realize that they are hardly ever conscious of themselves in the way they need to be in order to be able to realize what is happening within them. Sometimes, it takes so little for the thing they like at a given moment to lose all interest for them, especially if they no longer need it. On the other hand, tomorrow, they may like the very thing they do not like today, if they should discover that it can be useful to them after all. This also applies to the love a man bears a woman and vice-versa. True, disinterested, and compassionate love seems unknown to most of the human beings inhabiting this Earth. As and when the aspirant advances spiritually and his inner eyes open, he will no longer consider the outside world in the same way. Moreover, he will no longer be able to obey the blind impulses within him in the same way. He will no longer want to act for the satisfaction of his ordinary personal interests, but to respond to something elusive that belongs to another Universe within him, incomprehensible to the people of this world. He will then feel the imperative necessity to change his way of thinking, being, and behaving in everyday life, in order to be ever more honorable and true inside, to become worthy of being admitted into a Holy Place within himself and dwelling there. What one habitually calls “love” will take on a completely different meaning for him. He will begin to find himself in what can only be called a state of love that is beyond him—a compassionate and indescribable state of love that will rise from the depths of his being and cannot fail to touch the people who come into contact with him. As previously mentioned, one cannot dissociate love from compassion and attention. Thus, the aspirant will be ever more attentive and sensitive to the suffering and needs of others, in an entirely particular way that one cannot ordinarily know. He will feel their pain and their emotional distress with inhabitual compassion. This state of love in which he will so mysteriously find himself, as the result of his long years of spiritual practice, will always remain an enigma for him. He will be unable to describe or understand how it manifests itself within him. All he will know is that, suddenly, this state inhabits and illuminates his being. He will always be seized by wonder before its presence within him. This special love will radiate from him, independently of his will, to bring a little light and consolation to others in the painful moments of their lives—just as light emanates naturally from the sun. * * * It is always their attention that is involved in what is happening within human beings as well as in all that they do in the external world—whether for good or ill. It is only through their extremely developed attention that great composers can create musical works so prodigious that they elevate listeners to another plane of being, thus allowing them to experience entirely inhabitual sentiments which it is impossible for them to feel otherwise—sublime sentiments that belong to another elusive universe, inhabited by “Devas” (gods) and their “Gandharvas” (celestial musicians). Furthermore, this music, composed by geniuses with the help of their attention, will, subsequently, year after year, for centuries even, put to work the attention of all the members of symphony orchestras, without them being conscious of what is happening within them. Thus, one can say that through their attention and their great capacity for concentration, composers become, despite themselves, spiritual masters of sorts for all the performers in an orchestra, for the conductor, for the soloists, and even, to some extent, for the listeners too. Is it possible to imagine the many years of hard work on attention and concentration necessary for a pianist to one day be able to rise to the challenge presented by performing, from memory, before an extremely critical audience, a concerto by Beethoven or Brahms, which contains thousands of notes, changes in harmony, modulations, and complicated rhythms? Is it possible to imagine what a great singer needs by way of long tenacious practice of attention and concentration before being able to sing by heart, before an extremely severe public, an opera by Puccini, such as Madame Butterfly or Turandot? One might then, perhaps, understand how much more concentration and, above all, division of attention is demanded of a great composer to be able to write a symphonic work that requires such a great number of musicians for its performance and which is like the creation of a marvelous universe in miniature, where so many different things unfold simultaneously. Thus, it can be seen that, in every great artistic realization, it is always attention that plays the preponderant role. Through attention, the positive effect of these works continues, for centuries after the death of their author, to spread across the world in order to help other people in their efforts to master their attention. Moreover, one can only be filled with wonder when one thinks that, even a long time after the death of great geniuses (such as Beethoven, Brahms, César Franck, or Gustav Mahler), their music continues to nurture the sentiments and minds of an incalculable number of men and women, exalting them and bringing a little light into their lives—a light that is not of this world and that can, little by little, open to them an unhoped-for door to another Universe, so subtle, so fine, and so sublime, that they carry deep within their beings without ordinarily knowing it. Furthermore, music of such genius constantly helps humanity in other ways too; is it truly possible to imagine the number of people throughout the world who have been nurtured and financially supported by the very admirable musical creations of a great composer, such as Beethoven, since he departed this planet? All the performers and their families, the conductors, the soloists, without forgetting either all the people working in the concert halls, the music printers, the impresarios, the instrument makers, etc., all of whom have been able to provide for their needs through the attention and labor of a single human being—or perhaps it would be more correct to say of a giant: Beethoven! What immense work must have been produced by this prodigious musician to succeed in leaving behind him such a great quantity of works—despite the terrible handicap of deafness which began quite early in his life and even though he lived only fifty-seven years. Incidentally, to someone who exclaimed that he must live in a world of enchantments where inspiration flowed in abundance and without effort, he responded indignantly: “My music is only one percent inspiration, the rest is ninety-nine percent perspiration!” The people of this world, plunged into the darkness of their spiritual ignorance, cannot understand in what sense an enlightened being or a great artist is sacrificed. He comes to this earth predestined to be sacrificed for the whole of humanity, without them being conscious of it, in order to help them, directly or indirectly, to apprehend the meaning of their existence on this planet. A great musical genius is even sometimes condemned to spend his whole life in poverty, with no other desire within him than to occupy himself with his artistic creations, in order to accomplish an enigmatic destiny that remains forever elusive for the majority of those who people this Earth. Instead of wasting the precious tool of his attention in worthless thoughts and activities, as most men and women do, the musical genius, driven by a mysterious instinct that is beyond the comprehension of the masses, struggles ceaselessly with himself to concentrate all his forces and all his attention with the sole aim of bringing forth his creations. Indeed, it is only through the continual sacrifice of himself, of what he does and does not want ordinarily, and of everything that might bring him the distracting and fleeting pleasures that most people seek, that he succeeds in being sufficiently concentrated and inwardly silent to hear the mysterious voice that murmurs in his ears the inspirations that are so strangely sublime and moving that they will subsequently transport his listeners into the domain of the gods. It is in this way that not only does the whole of humanity benefit from the work and the sacrifice of a great genius, but the genius himself also benefits from it, because throughout his whole life, he exerts his attention—like an aspirant during his meditation practice or his spiritual exercises in active life. It is right that the price to pay should be so high; it could not be otherwise, with regard to the spectacular result for the world when the attention of a human being is employed in such a positive direction. When someone has used the gift of his life in a constructive way, not only does he leave a beneficial trace on Earth after his departure, but he is also an example for humanity, who can thus look at the future with hope, instead of remaining tied to their self-destructive belief in a material happiness that is impossible to make concrete. The wrong that one does also leaves its imprint upon the world. If, in acting to satisfy a personal interest or in not doing his work properly, someone causes suffering to another, that other may be so emotionally disturbed that, without him meaning to, the state in which he finds himself will trouble other people who come into contact with him and, in their turn, they will also be unable to help disturbing those around them. In this way, the problem caused at the beginning will continue to spread across the world. What a seeker does not generally realize is that, if everything he does is executed carefully and with consideration for others, it will not only be others who will benefit from that, but he will benefit too; in effect, this way of acting will, firstly, exercise his attention and, secondly, make all his qualities grow within him. In this way, it is he who will, in the long run, benefit psychically from his efforts. * * * Every action inevitably brings about consequences, good or bad. It is with their attention that wrong is done by human beings in the world and it is also with their attention that good is accomplished. What is more, where their attention is drawn, it is also there that their interest is. Thus, the aspirant can appreciate the inestimable value of his attention and understand the crucial role it plays in his life and in that of others—especially when he uses it consciously in his various spiritual exercises. Attention can be compared to the atmosphere that surrounds the Earth, because of which alone one can see the daylight and the blue of the sky; as one leaves the earth’s atmosphere, one encounters nothing but darkness. It is the same for human beings; without their attention, by way of which alone they can join with the Light of their Celestial Being, they lose themselves ever more in a state of near dark isolation. The incommensurable space of the Cosmos is made up only of eternal darkness, studded here and there with the minuscule points of light which are the stars, and of countless galaxies separated by inconceivably vast distances. The musical genius is, to some extent, comparable to one of these small points of light that tries to shine through the darkness in which humanity is plunged. He is like a solitary beacon in an immense ocean of men and women of all races who, like the waves of the sea, are ceaselessly born and die, without apprehending the true meaning of their existence on this planet. The composer struggles throughout his life to bring forth his artistic creations and, thus, to assume the mysterious role for which he was predestined. His music is like the light of a lamp that illuminates the souls of humans and shows them the path towards a subtle Universe, usually ineffable and indefinable, that they carry within their beings without being conscious of it. * * * An aspirant may benefit from observing a particular technology that can be found in the external world. If he grasps the principle, it could encourage him to become more serious and more motivated in his meditation practice, as well as in his spiritual exercises in active life, and help him to understand better the importance of his attention and the crucial role it plays in what he will become, for better or worse, according to whether he employs it in a positive manner or wastes it uselessly in thoughts and activities that are incompatible with his wish to know the Sublime within him and to accede to another plane of being beyond time and space. When, in a boiler, the flame transforms the water into steam and it is channeled and guided in a determined direction, the strong concentration of this steam becomes a formidable and powerful energy that can, then, set in motion enormous engines working for the good of all. Thus, it is through the intense concentration of steam that a locomotive can not only travel at high speed, but also draw a large number of very heavy cars, filled with merchandise of considerable weight. It is the same for the seeker. When his attention has passed through the fire of long and intense meditation practice and when he has finally mastered and channeled it towards a definite aim, then—just like the strong concentration of steam within a boiler becomes a force capable of moving a colossal machine—he will be able to transmute his unfavorable tendencies into positive and creative energies. Unsuspected forces will begin to awaken within him, making him capable of executing all that will be required of him very scrupulously and, even, with a perfection that is not within reach of someone ordinary, because all the tasks he will undertake will then be carried out by another aspect of his nature, which, hitherto, remained in a latent state. He may even discover that he is capable of realizations in various artistic domains with a talent that will astonish those who know him. Furthermore, the intensity of his sentiment will become a source of inspiration for the people who come into contact with him, continually encouraging them to become more motivated in their spiritual practice. A particular force that will emanate from his being will constantly touch aspirants who have come to seek from him the necessary help towards their own emancipation, because he will always want to act in their interest when they have need of him, despite the adverse circumstances he may find himself in. Thus, a serious seeker cannot avoid being profoundly troubled when, through intense and sustained meditation practice, he comes to awaken a little and distance himself from himself sufficiently to be able to note that, without him ordinarily being conscious of it, it is always his attention that is involved in all he thinks, says, and does, whether for good or ill, and it is also his attention that plays a determining role in his evolution or his involution. The way he uses the gift of his attention, as well as the goal he uses it for, will indisputably make of him what he is and what he will become. The moral integrity of human beings as well as their sincerity of spirit cannot subsist within them without being fed by the tool of their attention, just as evil cannot continue to exist within them either without being nourished by that precious combustible substance that is their attention. When attention is channeled in a determined direction, it becomes a phenomenal force, a force that, in the same way that it animates great painters or great composers in their artistic creations, proves indispensable to the seeker in his attempts to know the mysterious Source whence he emerged and in which he will be reabsorbed at the end of his temporary passage on this planet. It is only through the continual renouncement of himself and what he wants and does not want ordinarily (as the geniuses mentioned previously do) that the aspirant can come to master his attention in order to be able to hear within himself the voice of his Celestial Being which is trying to guide him on the path of his hope—a path that is sown with traps of all sorts that are difficult to recognize without the help of someone who has already gone through this kind of trial. * * * In addition to all that has previously been said about attention, there remains a fundamentally important point that a serious seeker must take into consideration and try to understand. It is the crucial question of his interest, because one cannot dissociate human beings’ attention from their interest. When someone is very interested in something, whether that be any sort of object or activity, his attention is inevitably used to feed that interest; effectively, what kindles his interest cannot but capture his attention. Thus, just like a great painter or a musical genius who is profoundly passionate and absorbed in his artistic creations, the aspirant must also come to be so intensely interested and occupied by his quest that it becomes a question of life or death for him. His spiritual practice—meditation and exercises undertaken in active life—must take first place in his existence. Nothing else must count for him. In addition, he must ceaselessly take care that his efforts and his interest do not weaken and lose their initial force, which will inevitably happen if he allows himself to be distracted by the futilities of the external world. This primordial quest must always remain the essential reason for his presence on this planet because, at the hour of his death—an inescapable moment that awaits all living beings without exception—a burning question will arise within him: “Does all I have thought and done, from the day I was born into this world, until this fatal moment, justify the enigmatic gifts of my mind, my attention, and my life?”

Obtaining amrit ras from simran vidies

Liquidasky’s point about using the vices for gristi in small moderation is also mentioned in this katha from time index 31:30.

In the first part of this video Bhai Sahib explains the importance of listening to the sehaj dhun. (The high pitched frequency sound) and where it will lead. Gurmantar -> Sehaj Dhun -> Anhad Sounds -> Naad ->Parkash (aka Satguru /Sach and Agam Shabads) Nishanis along the path of listening to Sehaj dhun: Will begin to disconnect from body Sweet Mouth / Amrit Ras Jhill Mill (Flashes of lightening) 5 Shabads / More Anhad Sounds Parkash Once in Parkash and can head Shabad then your off.....

Think the writer has a point. As things generally stand in life, the human being is not, and cannot be, aware of the Divine he carries in him. This silent “Spectator,” this Celestial Consciousness and most faithful friend he has—which is the essence of his being, animating and giving meaning to his life, as well as to the lives of all other human beings, no matter what their race or creed—will remain mysteriously hidden from his inner vision unless it is consciously sought for and he arrives (as a result of the unremitting efforts and time he devotes to its quest) at recognizing it fully through immersing himself in it during his meditation, a state that must later extend itself little by little into his active life as well. Unless a human being has truly known the Sublime in himself through direct inner experience, his conviction in the existence of a higher power, no matter how strong it may be, will (apart from perhaps succeeding in sustaining him a little in moments of adversity and helping make him a somewhat better person than he would otherwise have been) continue to be no more than a mere belief. When looked at from another perspective, taking into account the higher purpose of his incarnate existence, this is far from sufficient to help him know himself in such a way as will leave no shadow of a doubt in him regarding his True Identity, and what he will be reabsorbed into when his time comes to bid farewell to his earthly life and all that he has known during his brief and tumultuous sojourn on this globe. His faith in the existence of a Supreme Power somewhere in the Universe far away from him, though it be very profound and sincere, while it remains just a blind and almost abstract belief, associated with all sorts of conscious or unconscious imaginings about the Sacred, will not only bear no resemblance to the reality, but will also always carry in it the baneful seed of separateness and difference from others—leading to passionate divergences of opinion among the diverse peoples of the world on the nature of this divine power and to the interminable religious quarrels that ensue from such unverified beliefs. Between the higher aspect of a person’s being and his ordinary self is a mysterious, highly fragile, and intangible element—his attention. To whichever side of his double nature his attention is attracted and gravitates, it will, knowingly or unknowingly, immediately start animating and nurturing it—and there he will also inevitably be! Through this quasi–irresistible attraction of gravity that is the strange characteristic of terrestrial existence, the human being’s attention, unless sufficiently constrained to the contrary by the hard blows of outer life, is mainly unconsciously drawn in the direction of least resistance in him, demanding no effort from him to achieve or to maintain. There is no value at all in continuously yielding to this “vegetating” state of inner sleep, as a person generally does, and in unquestioningly conceding to the ever-changing whims and wishful dreaming that keep arising in him—much of which, if viewed objectively, will be found to be impractical and absurd. One does not need to exercise strength of will, be audacious, or possess any talent whatsoever to follow the same drift and path as those of the masses in general. Anyone can accomplish such universal and easy exploits. But the moment that an aspirant decides consciously to alter the habitual direction of the flow of his energies and exert himself to proceed, as it were, upward against this descending force of attraction, then he will immediately encounter strong resistance, both in himself and from outside. He will suddenly become aware, on the one hand, of these inner and outer oppositions, and on the other, of a certain inner awakening that these resistances provoke in him (and the value of which he may not recognize or not sufficiently appreciate at first). In fact, his hope of rousing himself from the ease of mesmeric sleep—this mysterious inner sleep in which most people are tamely content to spend their lives without questioning it—lies in these very challenges that he will come up against inside and outside himself. Just as a fire is ignited through the continual rubbing together of two pieces of wood, so these resistances that a seeker will keep meeting with in himself and in life will serve to create in him the indispensable friction that he needs and without which a living spiritual flame cannot be kindled. That is the reason why they must be viewed with the right attitude and understanding, and not blindly regarded as being extremely irritating and valueless obstacles. The seeker’s regard must start turning inward instead of outward, and this will undeniably demand from him much conscious effort in the beginning, as well as the hard-won inner strength and will to keep redirecting his attention back onto its intended track each time it wanders away from it, until one day he arrives at discerning the miracle of his Supreme Being, this sublime consciousness that has all the time been there, secretly watching him and waiting for him to reverse the direction of his gaze in order to discover it and behold its ineffable beauty, filling him with the inexpressible happiness he has mistakenly been searching for outside himself all the time.

As things generally stand in life, the human being is not, and cannot be, aware of the Divine he carries in him. This silent “Spectator,” this Celestial Consciousness and most faithful friend he has—which is the essence of his being, animating and giving meaning to his life, as well as to the lives of all other human beings, no matter what their race or creed—will remain mysteriously hidden from his inner vision unless it is consciously sought for and he arrives (as a result of the unremitting efforts and time he devotes to its quest) at recognizing it fully through immersing himself in it during his meditation, a state that must later extend itself little by little into his active life as well. Unless a human being has truly known the Sublime in himself through direct inner experience, his conviction in the existence of a higher power, no matter how strong it may be, will (apart from perhaps succeeding in sustaining him a little in moments of adversity and helping make him a somewhat better person than he would otherwise have been) continue to be no more than a mere belief. When looked at from another perspective, taking into account the higher purpose of his incarnate existence, this is far from sufficient to help him know himself in such a way as will leave no shadow of a doubt in him regarding his True Identity, and what he will be reabsorbed into when his time comes to bid farewell to his earthly life and all that he has known during his brief and tumultuous sojourn on this globe. His faith in the existence of a Supreme Power somewhere in the Universe far away from him, though it be very profound and sincere, while it remains just a blind and almost abstract belief, associated with all sorts of conscious or unconscious imaginings about the Sacred, will not only bear no resemblance to the reality, but will also always carry in it the baneful seed of separateness and difference from others—leading to passionate divergences of opinion among the diverse peoples of the world on the nature of this divine power and to the interminable religious quarrels that ensue from such unverified beliefs. Between the higher aspect of a person’s being and his ordinary self is a mysterious, highly fragile, and intangible element—his attention. To whichever side of his double nature his attention is attracted and gravitates, it will, knowingly or unknowingly, immediately start animating and nurturing it—and there he will also inevitably be! Through this quasi–irresistible attraction of gravity that is the strange characteristic of terrestrial existence, the human being’s attention, unless sufficiently constrained to the contrary by the hard blows of outer life, is mainly unconsciously drawn in the direction of least resistance in him, demanding no effort from him to achieve or to maintain. There is no value at all in continuously yielding to this “vegetating” state of inner sleep, as a person generally does, and in unquestioningly conceding to the ever-changing whims and wishful dreaming that keep arising in him—much of which, if viewed objectively, will be found to be impractical and absurd. One does not need to exercise strength of will, be audacious, or possess any talent whatsoever to follow the same drift and path as those of the masses in general. Anyone can accomplish such universal and easy exploits. But the moment that an aspirant decides consciously to alter the habitual direction of the flow of his energies and exert himself to proceed, as it were, upward against this descending force of attraction, then he will immediately encounter strong resistance, both in himself and from outside. He will suddenly become aware, on the one hand, of these inner and outer oppositions, and on the other, of a certain inner awakening that these resistances provoke in him (and the value of which he may not recognize or not sufficiently appreciate at first). In fact, his hope of rousing himself from the ease of mesmeric sleep—this mysterious inner sleep in which most people are tamely content to spend their lives without questioning it—lies in these very challenges that he will come up against inside and outside himself. Just as a fire is ignited through the continual rubbing together of two pieces of wood, so these resistances that a seeker will keep meeting with in himself and in life will serve to create in him the indispensable friction that he needs and without which a living spiritual flame cannot be kindled. That is the reason why they must be viewed with the right attitude and understanding, and not blindly regarded as being extremely irritating and valueless obstacles. The seeker’s regard must start turning inward instead of outward, and this will undeniably demand from him much conscious effort in the beginning, as well as the hard-won inner strength and will to keep redirecting his attention back onto its intended track each time it wanders away from it, until one day he arrives at discerning the miracle of his Supreme Being, this sublime consciousness that has all the time been there, secretly watching him and waiting for him to reverse the direction of his gaze in order to discover it and behold its ineffable beauty, filling him with the inexpressible happiness he has mistakenly been searching for outside himself all the time.

You are none of the following: Body Senses Mind Intellect Consciousness Ego - I exist Hmm if your not consciousness even in a pure state then what are you? For that to be discovered then you have to cease to exist.

Brilliant walkthrough on Gurmantar jaap and heading towards anhad. Highly recommended.

Abhiyaasan da Q&A. All from sangat that are having experiences hearing anhad shabads. Waheguru

Shabad Jot Da Khel. Why we can't see when we fall asleep.

Listen from 22:30 minutes where he explains stages of gurmantar jap and how to tell How to tell when Sass Giras Parpakh –Only sound of jap (Gurmantar) will remain and body will be forgotten –Rom Rom will start –Mind will enter in Sunn state either via sleep or consciously awake but silent (dhyan) –When you hear sehaj dhun in sunn then listen to this. –No load on body whilst listening (like listening in dream state) –When listening to sehaj dhun (anhad) •Jat/Sat/Sunjam •Mind will get brahm gyan •More anhad sounds •Naad - Toor (Loud Powerful Sound) •Parkash •Amrit Ras •Sunn Mandal / Astral Plane and beyond

There is nothing left to say after you read the following post. Experiences of the PHD Level.

I've been left speechless reading the following. May Waheguru bless us all with such bhagti. MUST READ SANGAT JI. Sadhana and Enlightenment (Part One) All the laws of logic and the understanding the human being generally has of the Universe and life dictate that it is inconceivable for him to be able to contemplate his physical self without the aid of some external instrument such as a mirror, a piece of metal, a clear pond, and so on. As to the contemplation of one’s inner or spiritual self, this would normally be considered to be not only totally impossible but even grossly illogical and ludicrous. However, an enlightened being knows, through direct personal experience, that during deep meditation, as one rises to higher planes of consciousness, one attains to other dimensions where the ordinarily inconceivable act of the contemplation of one’s incorporeal Self does indeed become miraculously possible, albeit in a manner wholly inexplicable and incomprehensible to the rational mind. This extraordinary state can be experienced only from deep within and is perceived as a vast and transparent Self without form, spreading out in all directions beyond the physical frame into infinity, a mysterious and formless “Spectator” plunged in silent Self- contemplation. Like a limitless ocean of consciousness without beginning or end, this invisible Self, although formless, has a reality about it that is immeasurably greater than one’s tangible earthly body. Indeed, compared to this unusual state of being, the physical form loses all reality. In this sacred state, the contemplator, the contemplated, and the contemplation are all three united in one. It is a very mysterious and inexplicable act, in which, paradoxically, there is contemplation of the Self at the same time as being the Self that is contemplated. While merged in it, one has the strange feeling of going back into Eternity to one’s Supreme Source. One is pervaded with a sensation of indescribable purity, as well as a blissful feeling of vast “cosmic aloneness” and profound inner peace, surpassing anything one can know of in one’s habitual outer existence. Something of this unusual and beatific state must start to accompany the seeker when occupied in his daily work as well. At first, this will demand from him very delicate and repeated efforts of inner presence while simultaneously abandoning himself to the Sublime in him. Through the patient repetition of these subtle efforts, he will help create the necessary conditions for the transformation of himself, ultimately allowing his higher nature to occupy its rightful place in the celestial city of his being and rule through him. He will thus become a channel for the fulfillment of the Divine Will in himself and on the lower planes of existence. In carrying over this effulgent flame to the somber regions of his nature and to where there is the greatest need for it, he will, through the higher understanding he has so painstakingly acquired, show the way to alleviate the suffering of a forlorn and despairing humanity. After having found this light in himself, the aspirant may at first want only to retire into the quietness and felicity of his inner being, refusing all else. Intoxicated with this celestial wine, he may be tempted to wish solely to lose himself in this beatific state, rejecting the outer world altogether— an outer world that, by comparison, will now seem so crude and dissonant. He will be like a man deeply in love, having found a woman whose extraordinary beauty is beyond anything he could have ever dreamed of before, neglecting everything in life so as to be with her all the time. He may even believe that he has attained all there is to attain and know, and that there is nothing more for him to do but remain tranquil in this heavenly abode or Nirvana that he has, through much effort, deservedly earned. But, alas, it is not so easy as all that. As said earlier, enlightenment does not necessarily mean liberation. It should also not be forgotten that there are different degrees of enlightenment. For the great majority of seekers, enlightenment (if it did take place in them) signifies purely the start of this arduous journey toward their emancipation. Only outer life can provide the conditions the human being requires through which he can learn to know himself better, to find courage in the face of repeated adversities or defeats, not to hate when being wronged, not to take what rightly belongs to another, not to cause suffering around him in satisfying a transitory desire, not to behave dishonorably toward another for selfish reasons, and so on. Enlightenment is but the outset of real sadhana. It is the start of a lifetime’s work and study. For one must not forget where one has started from: one’s untransformed tendencies, as well as one’s sexual urges and other needs, will again and again raise their hungry heads and plague one. Even if a seeker decides to shut himself away from the world completely, he will find that, sooner or later, unless he is one of the rare exceptions, he will be forced out of his retreat, both to satisfy the exigencies of his various wants and by the necessity for him to put his spiritual work into practice in active life also. As in all domains, the right balance must be found between meditation and active life to permit true and healthy spiritual growth to take place. One needs to breathe in in order to breathe out, but one must also breathe out in order to be able to breathe in again. In spite of all the unusual spiritual experiences he may have had, the aspirant will have to face the hard fact that he is still an incomplete being, full of hidden undesirable tendencies, lacking in will and inner strength, and as yet unworthy to serve in a befitting manner. Even if at this stage he tries to impart to others whatever higher knowledge he may have gained, the latter risks being mixed up with inaccuracies, spiritual pride, and sometimes even salted and peppered with a little fantasy born of the concealed desire to appear important in other people’s eyes. If, after having known the luminous aspect of his being, an aspirant cannot raise in himself the strong and sincere wish to know the dark side of his nature as well— perhaps thinking that because of the lofty spiritual experiences he has had, this is no longer important— then he will render his emancipation very uncertain, if not impracticable. The discovery of the Sublime in oneself does not mean the immediate release from the bondage to one’s inferior nature. This divine light must not be misused solely in wanting to withdraw into the bliss of its celestial oasis. It could unconsciously remain a mere desire to escape into higher states only, which— because of one’s level of being— will not in any case last very long before weakening and becoming diluted with one’s ordinary state of consciousness, finally receding into the background, leaving one desolate again in the aridity of one’s habitual state. If, without really understanding what it involves, a seeker remains as he is, then each time he tries to touch these higher states again, they will last for short periods only, and without his realizing why, he will find himself continually flung back to the level that corresponds to his degree of evolution. If the aspirant cannot muster in himself the inner courage patiently to face and suffer again and again the truth of what he is in himself, with all his open or hidden negativities, ill will, conceit, laziness, instability, stupidity, unreliability, and so on, then his sadhana will not have fulfilled its true function for his transformation. It will simply remain a high- sounding word in his mouth, empty and unproductive, like a seed fallen on poor soil. He may not realize it at first, but, each time he can see himself as he is, a mysterious alchemy takes place in him, creating the right and probably only condition for his transformation. Although he will sometimes discover very distasteful things about himself, he must be careful not to brood negatively on them, forgetting the light that is eternally shining there behind them and through which they were seen. Part Two Without the aspirant reaching some degree of enlightenment, the real practice of sadhana cannot begin. He will not understand what this work is about and what is ultimately at stake for him. He will simply remain a prisoner of fantastic ideas and imaginings on spirituality arising from his ordinary self, containing no truth in them whatever. At the most, his concepts will be no more than a collection of intellectual speculations on the enigma of one’s being and existence— perhaps made with much good intention but having no foundation in nor any bearing on reality. In the end, all this will lead nowhere; it will certainly not bring him any nearer to the realization of his True Nature and to a correct comprehension of the hidden meaning behind life and death. Although it is absolutely right that the aspirant at first strive after enlightenment, it is also extremely important for him to understand that, paradoxically, he must under no circumstances do his spiritual practice with either the conscious or unconscious intention of obtaining results. Whatever the subject of his meditation, whether concentration on the lower abdomen while breathing, concentration on the mystical sound inside his ears, concentration on his feet in the slow walking exercise, concentration on a certain chakra (psychic center) situated between the nose and upper lip, he must be very careful not to seek unusual phenomena, even perhaps unknowingly, nor to be constantly on the lookout for results, nor project his imagination in advance of what he thinks illumination might be. All these things will certainly hinder him in his endeavors, which will continuously be colored by the desires and fantasies of his ordinary self, interfering instead of getting out of the way. The aspirant must learn, especially at the beginning of his practice, to concentrate on the subject of his meditation for the love of doing it and for no other reason. Generally, when meditating, the majority of people lose patience without being aware of it and relax the intensity of their concentration just at the very moment when they should more than ever be keeping it up and plunging ever deeper into themselves. Thus, they are never able to pass beyond a certain threshold in their being. But this should not be misunderstood. It is not at all meant as an incitement to be brutal in one’s endeavors, using violence in such sacred work— sacred work that, on the contrary, demands a most delicate approach and subtle understanding. Although it is true that one’s effort must be very firm and sustained, at the same time— as was repeatedly said earlier— it has to be extremely gentle and tranquil, accompanied by the simultaneous surrendering of oneself. The essential thing in meditation is to arrive at experiencing and recognizing with absolute certainty this sublime consciousness in oneself, this subtle, vast, and luminous consciousness that each being unknowingly carries deep within him. There are different paths to arrive at this supreme realization, and under the guidance of a master, this revelation can be attained either rapidly or progressively— depending on how ripe and ready the seeker is for it. But if an aspirant is striving without a guide, he may abruptly touch unusual states or go through exceptionally powerful experiences ordinarily absolutely inconceivable, which may later perturb him if he is not sufficiently prepared for them. It is to avoid any unnecessary shock for someone working alone, as well as to help him better understand his own spiritual experiences, that the following personal experience is recounted— fully realizing that this does not in any way imply everyone will pass through exactly the same states in exactly the same manner to arrive at a comprehension of his True Being. It is told simply to help him should he experience something similar. One day, after having gone through the most terrible suffering and despair, as the author was meditating, and as he kept plunging ever more deeply into himself, stubbornly holding onto the subject of his meditation with growing but quiet determination while at the same time constantly increasing the intensity and strength of his concentration without at any moment letting it falter or fluctuate, abruptly, as the sensation of his body became ever finer and more rarefied, this sacred Nada inside his ears started to vibrate in a most unusual way, thundering in his head with an incredible power and shrillness he had not known before. Suddenly, with a formidable force and astonishing rapidity, he was sucked up to the top of his skull. At the same time, he felt that his forehead had ripped open from inside, and the vision of his two eyes had inwardly merged into the center of his forehead. Simultaneously, he had the strong and strange feeling of having died and gone back to his Source of origin. He was also seized with the inexpressible sensation that he was immersed in and united with the Great Whole, and that he had discovered and understood the mysterious secret behind life, the stars, and the Universe. He was equally pervaded with an extraordinary sense of immense “cosmic aloneness.” An eternal vast silence reigned. Afterward, and for many days, his body seemed incredibly light and free, as if transmuted into ether. Something of this sensation has remained with him ever since. He also experienced a strange and indefinable state of well- being, bathed in an ineffable inner stillness, contentment, and indescribable feeling of love hitherto unknown to him, a profound melting tenderness in the solar plexus— as that of a speechless mother who, after many years of painful separation and suffering, has been unexpectedly reunited with her only child whom she long thought lost. Later, as he tried to formulate into words the strange secret he had discovered concerning life, the stars, and the Universe, he found himself utterly unable to do so. Although the reality of this mysterious comprehension has always stayed with him from that day onward, yet he has never been able to translate it to himself in any known language. He has also found it necessary to keep largely silent on such out- of- the- ordinary matters. These are intimate experiences between the Divine and oneself that cannot be shared with anyone else. Moreover, through this unusual spiritual experience, he had, without having fully understood it at first, received a foretaste and subtle knowledge of the after- death state, a subtle knowledge and higher understanding that have kept silently growing in him, becoming ever clearer, deeper, and more affirmative each time he sat and meditated again. Here also, he deemed it absolutely necessary and expedient never to speak about such a revelation to anyone. Apart from the reasons already mentioned, his silence is also to avoid wrong ideas about the supernatural from arising in the minds of people who might later desecrate a thing of such weighty importance, distorting it in reducing it to their own level of understanding. From that momentous day onward, his existence took an entirely different meaning for him. His thoughts and feelings flowed in a new direction, and his aims in life changed drastically. He looked upon everything from another perspective and in a totally new light. All the things that used to interest him in the past, and that had seemed so important before, suddenly meant nothing to him anymore. He began to see in everyone, without exception, the same Cosmic Consciousness animating their lives, only they are ignorant of it. It is crucified in them and will sadly remain so until they bring themselves to desire it above all else and succeed in making the necessary efforts to seek and discover it— a discovery that will bring in its wake a very particular understanding of the reason and sense of their lives, of where they originated, and into what they will one day be reabsorbed when this form of existence comes to its end for them, as it inevitably will do. Through this inner awakening, or rebirth, they will then start to live in, and through, the higher aspect of their nature, conscious of the supreme Unity behind all sentient beings and the seeming separateness of things. He equally saw the imperative need to strive to maintain as far as possible a state of self- recollectedness in active life as well. This ever- so subtle inward movement, or rather descent into oneself— which has to be continually renewed— is the key to the understanding of real inner presence. This inner descending movement is, in a certain way, always possible to accomplish, and one will find that, at the very instant when this descent into oneself is effected, the renunciation of one’s ordinary state of being mysteriously takes place at the same time. Later, other strange phenomena occurred during the author’s meditation: sometimes he was seized with a mysterious involuntary shaking of the entire trunk or the head, while at other times a gentle unintentional swaying of the body took place, all of which could last for a considerable length of time before stopping; on other occasions, he felt a strong and pleasant pressure on the top of the skull, at the back of the head, or in the region of the throat with the chin involuntarily pressing tightly against the neck— similar to the Jalandhara pose in Hatha Yoga. At other times, the whole of his abdomen would, of itself, extend outward and rise in a surprising manner, pressing against the solar plexus with considerable force. It would remain in this distended and suspended position for quite a long time— inconceivable in normal conditions. Now and then, he would feel himself taken by an invisible force and, in spite of himself, made to dance in his room in a most strange and ecstatic way while the strains of celestial music vibrated throughout his being. This strange sensation of the opening of the center of his forehead from inside has never left the author. Since the day it occurred it is as if, in some mysterious way, he is always looking out at the world deep from the back of his head at the same time as through the center of his forehead and his physical eyes. His experience also led him to the discovery that he could, through the power of Grace, confer upon another a direct silent transmission. Although this will without doubt be of inestimable help to a seeker, it will, nevertheless, not spare him his share of the efforts that he will have to make throughout his entire life. Part Three When the aspirant has arrived at experiencing and recognizing this out- of- the- ordinary state of consciousness in him as being his Supreme Nature, appreciating its capital value and profound importance for his transformation, he will come to see for himself the urgent need for him to always strive to turn to it, not only during the moments when he sits quietly and meditates but in his active life as well. For he will find that while he is inwardly present to this higher aspect of his being, he cannot any more conduct himself under its intransigent gaze in the same way as he does when in his ordinary state of being. All the things that he generally thinks, says, and does when sunk in the habitual condition of unmindfulness are inconceivable in a state of self- recollectedness. He will perceive that, as long as he is aware of himself, inwardly connected to his Supreme Being, he will not be able to do other than act in conformity to this hallowed Witness. His thoughts, speech, and actions will inevitably be influenced and governed by a higher knowledge and very particular understanding proceeding from it, rendering him compassionate in his contact with the outer world and conscious of the feelings, problems, and sufferings of others. And he will discover that, as soon as he forgets himself again, becoming inwardly disconnected from his True Source, he will start once more to behave through his ordinary lower self, with all its blind urges for the immediate relief of its discomforts, as well as the gratification of its ever- changing cravings and ambitions, oblivious of the consequences of its actions and the unhappiness it inflicts around it, its personal satisfaction being the only thing it knows and cares for. When the seeker is identified with this side of his nature, he generally, knowingly or not, approaches others solely through his needs and desires, which impel him to act mainly in his own interest. Like an iceberg whose biggest and most important part remains submerged and hidden from sight, the human being’s most essential aspect lies mysteriously veiled beneath the mists of his illusory ordinary self. And, because the desires and clamors of this perceptible little self are so noisy, he is impelled to notice only this small part of himself, totally unaware of the majesty of his Supreme Nature concealed behind all this wild uproar in him. To arrive at perceiving the huge and vital part of an iceberg covered from view, it is necessary to make the effort of plunging into the waters that surround the small exposed fragment. Enlightenment reveals how little and insignificant is the visible aspect of the human being, but attaining enlightenment is not easy. Not only does it demand much patient struggle from the seeker but also, and above all, a profound and sustained sincerity. This spiritual struggle equally signifies the start of true sincerity in the aspirant’s relationship with the outside world. For, although he may not be especially aware of it at the time, the very desire to be sincere inevitably entails a very special and subtle effort for its fulfillment, which— at the instant when he is being sincere— automatically brings with it an inward movement, or rather, a particular descent into himself that the seeker normally does not perceive. This descent into himself is the start of and key to self- recollectedness— even though, in the beginning, he may not necessarily recognize or sufficiently understand it. Furthermore, he may also not fully comprehend nor appreciate the secret action and effect this mysterious descent into himself has, both on his feelings and on his mind. Thus, he might perhaps let slip a precious opportunity and means for opening the door that can eventually lead to the realization of his True Nature. All strivings to be sincere call for an act of inner presence, which is the start of inner awakening and the “pushing out of the way” of the seeker’s ordinary self to be replaced by something more worthy. Sincerity, to both himself and others, is the beginning and the end of all things. It is, in any case, unquestionably the basis of all spiritual search. Without it, enlightenment is absolutely impossible. Sincerity is also the very life and force of all great artistic creations. The exalted feelings that a sublime musical work inspires in its listeners are nothing less than the expression of the same lofty sentiments and profound sincerity its creator, the composer, had in him at the time of its creation. For it is solely in the degree to which a composer is himself stirred and elevated when working that he will stir and elevate his audience (if they are receptive enough), and the depth of his sincerity cannot fail but evoke its equivalent in them. The mysterious effect that music can have on the feelings and thoughts of those who listen to it is often colossal. It can even be strangely disquieting at times, showing the terrible responsibility a composer has to all who come under the influence of his music and receive in their being the subtle suggestions his work secretly imparts to them. Ordinarily, there is no way of explaining life and death. To understand life and its meaning, it is necessary to understand death a little; and to understand death a little, it is equally necessary to understand life better— and above all, “That” which is behind it, animating it and sustaining the whole Universe. It would seem there is no possibility of finding the answer to this enigma if it were not that, during particularly profound mystical states in meditation, one can have some foretaste and subtle knowledge of the after- death state— that is to say, into what one will be reabsorbed on leaving this form of existence. Understanding death a little better helps one understand life a little better too, and understanding life a little better helps one understand death also a little better, until one finally arrives at discovering that these two conditions mysteriously merge into one another, revealing a state of nondifferentiation between them— just as there is only one atmosphere surrounding the globe, unchanging in its essence, whether it is day or whether it is night. But these are understandings that can never be clearly and correctly expressed in words. One cannot explain such things beyond a certain limit: firstly, because it would not be possible to avoid distorting them to some degree; and secondly, to prevent their being misunderstood and misrepresented later by others. In addition to the above reasons, the author, having received no education, is extremely mistrustful of himself, considering himself far from qualified to put into words, beyond a certain point, revelations of such importance. Ultimately, each person must seek out and live these extraordinary experiences and truths for himself to be able to understand them. They cannot be understood with the mind, nor transmitted intellectually. In fact, the mind is a veritable handicap in this area. The subtle language of great symphonic music can sometimes explain life and its meaning in a manner that can never be done intellectually nor understood with the rational mind, even though it should not be forgotten that, no matter how great a work of art may be, it is still mixed up to some degree, be it ever so slight, with the artist’s habitual state of being. However, this does not exclude the fact that very elevated feelings and subtle understandings reaching him from higher invisible spheres can, to some extent, mysteriously be translated into music. Its wordless speech, made up of exalted sentiments and silent suggestions, immediately touch the listener’s very being and is secretly understood by him through direct intuition. Although great beauty and spiritual truths can be transmitted through the medium of literature and speech, nevertheless, there is always a considerable danger of their being misinterpreted, each person understanding them in his own way according to his education and conditioning, which, in turn, leads to his deforming them, often resulting in fierce dissension and violence between people. But there is a superior kind of art, or medium of transmission, where the intellect and mouth are silenced. In this form of art, the beauty and spiritual truths imparted are received directly by the eye through sacred paintings, religious sculptures, certain forms of dancing (in particular Indian dancing), and special architectural masterpieces (such as temples, shrines, mosques, and so forth), with a lesser possibility existing of deforming these truths. However, an even higher form of art exists in which the intellect, the mouth, and the eyes are completely passive. The spiritual truths, beauty, and love communicated are received directly through the feelings by the subtle language of music that vibrates deep inside the listener’s heart. Here, the chances of misrepresenting these truths are greatly reduced. For, whatever their creed or race, and no matter where they happen to be, when a group of people are assembled together, listening to the sublime harmonies and wonderful orchestral “colors” of a great symphonic work secretly imparting to them an ineffable truth through expressions of elevated sentiments, the minds, thoughts, and feelings of all are then united in one silent communion. At that exalted hour, words have lost all their meaning. If the aspirant is receptive enough, he will discover that listening to certain music can mysteriously help bring about this important descent into himself spoken of earlier. Some rare beings gifted with very unusual sincerity, capacity of concentration, and great sensitivity, rendering them capable of capturing these invisible influences coming from “the spheres of the gods,” are chosen by higher forces— and are, in an ordinarily incomprehensible way, sacrificed— to transmit to the world through music a ray of light and the enigmatic message of this inward descent into oneself. The force born of the unusual sincerity that some rare composers have in them during their creative moments is something that only someone who has experienced it himself in some form or another can understand, appreciate, and speak of. The inspiration and aesthetic sentiments that move a genius in his periods of creativity can arise in him only in a state of extreme inner stillness, receptivity, and exceptional sincerity, rendering every note he writes inevitable. That is to say, each note of the theme and harmony of his music go where they ought to go and could not possibly have gone anywhere else, evoking in the listener the strange feeling of rediscovering an evident truth that he seems to know already from some enigmatic source— even though he is, in fact, listening to this music for the first time in his life. Apart from the profound sentiments and lofty intimations that some musical masterpieces convey (like a mysterious wind blowing from an invisible and strange land, whispering softly inside the ear of humanity an ever- so- subtle message), the particular sort of tenderness and unusual love that music (especially Indian music) sometimes communicates to the human soul are perhaps its most important contribution to the field of art. This kind of love does not in any way resemble the ordinary love one is familiar with in life, which is always directed outwardly to something or somebody, and mainly aroused through desire. Such love is unstable and unpredictable, influenced by outer circumstances and the need of the moment. It changes like the wind, and is even often transformed into its contrary. The unusually tender love that one encounters in music, speaking subtly to the heart of the human being in the sublime language of the gods, sometimes moving him to tears without any apparent reason for it, comes down to him as an indication pointing the way inward, secretly influencing his feelings and opening his mind to something higher that he otherwise could not experience nor know of in his customary state of being. More so even than in art, sincerity in meditation and sadhana is absolutely vital. It is the essential pillar upon which all spiritual efforts must rest and is unquestionably the seeker’s strongest arm and protection in his difficult quest. Without genuine and profound sincerity, he will merely dream that he is meditating or practicing a sadhana. Each time the aspirant sits and meditates, he has to do it with all his being, with ever renewed sincerity, always meditating as if for the first time, no matter what exalted spiritual experiences he may have been privileged with before. To help an aspirant who— depending on his type and temperament— may pass through similar experiences as those of the author (who was atrociously alone at that time, with no one around him capable of sufficiently understanding his problems, needs, and sufferings to guide him), the following painful trials he underwent will be indirectly recounted, together with some important advice for the seeker. As the aspirant quietly descends into himself during his meditation, remaining inwardly ever so still and silent in a state of continual self- abandonment, a moment may come when, through Divine Grace, he will be stirred by a most unusual feeling of love, filling him with a sublime and tender melting sensation spreading all around from his solar plexus, a sensation so unusual and strong that he may afterward find himself weeping violently without fully understanding why. This out- of- the- ordinary sentiment may, in a very inadequate way, be compared to the strange sensation of experiencing extreme sadness and happiness simultaneously, such as the intense emotions of a bereaved woman who, having lost her beloved under tragic circumstances, suddenly dreams of him in her sleep and is so overcome with joy and affection at seeing him whom she believed dead that her heart is gripped with the most singular feeling of profound pain and felicity as she ever- so- fondly tries to smile at him while shedding endless tears of bliss in her dream. The experience of this uncommon love will deeply affect and mark the seeker. He will unmistakably recognize that what has taken place in him is an out- of- the- ordinary sentiment of mystical love, a most tender and strange love that cannot be compared to anything one normally knows in life. For in this case, this particular love is not stimulated by nor directed to anyone or anything external. There is simply an inexplicable state of love, a most unusual melting sentiment of profound mystical love that one has become immersed in and one with. When the seeker first goes through this unusual experience, he may be so deeply moved that he will afterward find his whole body shaking with the weeping that this strange and ecstatic love will have provoked in him. This intense weeping with which he is so suddenly seized is mainly due to an aspect of his being that is not ready to support such an uncommon and powerful experience, and he has to be extremely careful afterward, since there is the risk in such cases of a destructive emotional state settling in without perhaps his being aware of it. If allowed to remain, it will be very difficult to dislodge, for, strangely enough, one can become attached to this emotional state, which will then devour the person in whom it has installed itself, rendering him tense, withdrawn, and melancholic, unable to work and only wanting to retire ever further into himself and brood on this experience. The danger is even greater when it is accompanied with the avid desire to relive these intense moments. If the seeker gives in to this craving, it will seriously perturb all his future meditations. It will become an obsession, constantly gnawing at him, and drawing him away from what his true aim should be. He will then go through much torment and suffering before he realizes his mistake. This warning applies equally to all other powerful mystical phenomena or states that the seeker may go through. He should never at any time, either consciously or unconsciously, seek to recreate such moments, no matter how fascinating and wonderful they may have been. It is important in any case to understand that experiences of such an extraordinary nature cannot come again at one’s command, in exactly the same manner, bringing with them exactly the same states that one has had before. The aspirant will have to realize that both he and the conditions that helped bring on these states have changed. As already repeatedly stressed, he must learn to cultivate in himself the attitude and subtle art of always starting his meditation with the utmost sincerity and inner stillness as if it were for the first time, forgetting all that took place on previous occasions. Although during one’s meditation one sometimes experiences very strange mystical phenomena and is given foretastes of transcendent emotional states, it should be understood that this does not necessarily mean that one has fully earned or deserved them. They may come as an encouragement and subtle indication only, silently showing the way, according to the particular need of the moment, before being partially withdrawn from the seeker for a certain time. He may afterward have to pass again through terrible moments of uncertainty and despair until he succeeds in making the right efforts to rise to yet greater heights in himself. At that time, other experiences will unexpectedly come to help him advance still further in his spiritual journey. As a result of all his previous inner work he may, at certain privileged moments, suddenly touch a higher dimension and mysteriously see what will seem to him to be all the different aspects and different possibilities of a thing or a situation simultaneously. But the aspirant has to be extremely circumspect afterward, and watch that these exalted states and out- of- the- ordinary experiences that he is sometimes permitted to have are not immediately taken by his lower self and used for itself. There is a lot of stupidity, foolish ideas, and egotism in every man and woman that have to be “knocked out” of them, and this “cleaning up” of oneself is not achieved without much struggle, pain, and suffering. As the seeker becomes more practiced and mature, his lower nature will also have undergone much transformation through all these lofty spiritual experiences and the higher understanding they have brought him. Then a profound cosmic stillness will descend upon him when meditating, and this ineffable state of ecstatic love will also have a different effect on him; he will feel a very tranquil but sublime tenderness into which he will quietly merge; and, as always during such out- of- the- ordinary moments, this enigmatic Nada will more than ever make its presence felt and, with its eternal jewel- like glitter, sing in his ears its supernal song at the same time as it helps him increase his inner absorption. This, as it deepens, will always bring him the strange yet curiously familiar sensation of having returned to the mysterious Source whence he originated, and to which he belongs. The way this divine flame may affect an aspirant the first time it illuminates his being with its ineffable love can be compared to that of a fierce fire consuming a log of wood, its flames leaping about wildly in all directions in the wind. And the way it will affect him later, when he will have acquired deeper spiritual comprehension, more control over his thoughts, and greater inner calm, can be compared to the immobile, soft, and beautiful flame of a candle on a perfectly windless evening. Something of this beatific state will— apart from the moments when he sits alone and meditates— afterward extend itself of its own accord into the seeker’s active life, silently stirring him with a melting feeling of quiescent and compassionate love.