Commentary on the text “Tripura Rahasya,” Chapter 17 “On the Futility of Fleeting Samadhis and the Path to Wisdom”
Now I shall explain to you the process of liberation.
A person learns true devotion to God after leading a commendable way of life over several births, and then worships Him for a long time with devoted diligence.
Three Categories of Beings
All people are divided into liberated and unliberated souls. The liberated are called mahatmas, while the unliberated are called bandHikas (the bound) or duratmas (the deluded Atman). The liberated include rishis, mahasiddhas, devatas, gods, and yogis who have attained liberation through persistent sadhana. The unliberated include humans, gods of passion, gandharvas, asuras, demons, rakshasas, pishachas (malevolent spirits), pretas, beings of hell, various classes of negative beings, serpent-like beings of the naga class, animals, souls who have gone to the ancestral world and pure lands, and others.
There is also a special category of beings who have embarked on the spiritual path, that is, entered the process of liberation. They are in a marginal, intermediate state. In other words, they do not yet belong to the class of the liberated, but they can no longer be called a class of deluded souls. They are in such a dependent position; they are called sadhus. You, too, belong to those who have entered the process of liberation and are called sadhus.
A sadhu is one who has become disillusioned with the unliberated state, who avoids the unliberated state like poison, and who wholeheartedly strives for liberation, just as the flame of a lit candle reaches toward the sky. A sadhu is one who has embarked on the path of evolution, applying effort and understanding. One who does not possess these qualities is not a sadhu.
When we enter the process of liberation and become sadhus, it means that a great deal is being decided in this life: whether we will once again enter the path of samsara or follow the path of nirvana. We may not be fully aware of this, but this is precisely the colossal decision we are bringing into reality. Vast opportunities open before us, but this is still only potential.
For example, looking back at your former worldly life, you can assess how you studied at school, university, or somewhere else. Perhaps you did not fully understand that certain small things would determine the course of your life for 30–60 years. In other words, if you had lost heart and decided not to attend university, your destiny might have taken an entirely different direction, but you made the effort and obtained higher education. Click—suddenly you moved to a certain new level in the social hierarchy. New opportunities opened up before you, and a new circle of acquaintances appeared. In the same way, on the spiritual path, when we make a certain decision, it affects our entire subsequent life.
The Nature of Worldly Pleasures
Dispassion toward worldly pleasures arises in a devotee who gradually begins to experience a strong desire to know the truth and becomes absorbed in the search for it.
Dispassion toward worldly pleasures arises in a yogi who strives for liberation. What are worldly pleasures? They are not merely scuba diving in Cyprus and staying in a six-star hotel; in fact, they are everything that binds our consciousness. Everything in which there is a selfish element of enjoyment that makes us forget our true nature, become distracted from contemplating the Supreme Source, and compromise our awareness, attentiveness, and pranas—these are worldly pleasures. This is difficult to understand for someone who is not engaged in transformation, but essentially everything that arises from egoism, from identifying with “I am the body,” is a worldly pleasure. One could say that the entire world consists of what is called worldly pleasure. In other words, the perspective of saints and siddhas differs greatly from that of ordinary people.
The desire to communicate with a friend is a worldly pleasure. The desire to share something or listen to another person is a worldly pleasure. The desire to possess something is a worldly pleasure. The desire to be loved and spoken of favorably is also a worldly pleasure. The desire to look worthy in the eyes of others, the desire for praise and honors, the desire to engage in a favorite occupation or some kind of creative activity, and so on—these are also worldly pleasures. The desire to communicate with relatives and maintain family relationships, the desire to defend one’s views, concepts, and ideals—this is a worldly pleasure. I even find it difficult to name anything that is not a worldly pleasure.
In fact, all desires colored by selfish vision, selfish attachment, and the pleasures resulting from satisfying them stem from the fundamental ignorance that you are this body. If you observe carefully, you can see that every desire has a selfish coloring and, accordingly, rightfully belongs to the category of worldly pleasure. Only if you are an honest practitioner, capable of looking within yourself, will you be horrified to discover that there is nothing there but worldly pleasures and tendencies, gross or subtle. The worldly pleasures of non-practitioners are gross, while those of practitioners are subtle. In other words, outwardly practitioners try to discipline themselves, but within there is an abyss of the same pleasures: a subtle desire for superiority, subtle pride, subtle self-satisfaction, a thirst for spiritual experiences, an aspiration to see something with the third eye. All these are countless worldly pleasures with which consciousness is overflowing.
Seeing such boundless samsara within himself, a genuine practitioner suddenly arrives at the following insight: “Hey there, old boy! So you are not at all what you thought you were. You are entirely made up of samsara, and with this approach you still have sixteen kalpas of practice ahead of you.” This is the first discovery a genuine practitioner makes about himself: he discovers boundless samsara within. Only when he makes such a discovery does he develop the great determination to transcend this samsara. Until this discovery is made, he remains in a relaxed, compromising, tamasic state. Only by understanding what an incredible task lies before him can a practitioner undertake heroic sadhana, heroic spiritual feats, radical self-transformation, and complete self-surrender. A mature practitioner is distinguished precisely by the fact that he harbors no hopes or illusions, and has no false pride or conceit. He sees how boundless the dharma is and how much he still needs to practice, and therefore approaches sadhana with the utmost care and seriousness.
In ancient times, saints tried to show this to a disciple by testing him for a long time. For example, a disciple comes to a teacher and asks him:
– Show me the path to liberation.
And the teacher says:
– First learn to listen. Go and learn to listen to a stream, and come back in three years and tell me what you heard.
For three years the teacher does not even listen to the disciple or speak with him. It does not matter what the disciple does: perhaps he cries, repents, or is on the verge of survival. After three years, the teacher asks him:
– What did you hear? Perhaps you are now ready to listen to the teachings?
In other words, this is already the beginning of the preliminary practices. Do you want to hear the teachings? Then be prepared to spend three years doing this. This is a very strict approach of the ancient teachers, yet it is fully justified in the sense that it immediately attunes the disciple to a different vision of the spiritual path.
Then the disciple asks again:
– Show me the path to liberation.
The teacher says:
– Well, let us see whether you can follow my instructions. Here is a cave; remain there for three years, and I will come after three years. If you manage it, you will receive instructions on liberation.
And once again, the disciple has to change a great deal within himself. Spending three years in a cave may seem incredible to many. However, from the standpoint of liberation, it is not something incredible; it is something insignificant. What are three years? Liberation encompasses billions of kalpas. In this way, a person begins to acquire a “taste” of the boundless and intuitively recognize the qualities required of him.
The Path to Knowledge of Truth
So, it says here: “He gradually begins to experience a strong desire to know the truth and becomes absorbed in the search for it.”
When a yogin has purified himself through the preliminary practices in this way, he develops a strong desire to know the truth and truly becomes absorbed in the search for it. From the standpoint of the teachings, a strong desire to know the truth does not mean that one must suffer and think: “How I long to know the truth! Yet it refuses to reveal itself to me in any way.”
I asked a disciple who had spent several months in the mountains:
– How is the practice going?
And he replied:
– I have not attained samadhi.
But this is not quite the approach that is needed. For us, a strong desire to know the truth means methodical and painstaking work on the practice of self-liberation without clinging, hope, or fear. If we have understood the practice of self-liberation, this gives us tremendous advantages in spiritual life, because the ability to remain in a self-liberated state begins to untie one knot after another. All the countless worldly states within us can gradually be untied if, from second to second, we remain in the correct self-liberated state. This self-liberated state must be genuine. It is not a matter of saying during self-liberation classes: “There are no such concepts in the Atman.” And so on. Then this impresses us, and we walk around in an altered state of consciousness. Self-liberation means that every second we impeccably recognize subtle clarity and nurture it just as a mother nurtures her child.
Stages of Training: Shravana and Manana
Then he finds his gracious teacher and learns from him everything connected with the transcendent state. Now he has acquired theoretical knowledge. After that, he is compelled to consider this matter from all sides in his mind until he gains satisfaction based on his own practical knowledge, in harmony with the injunctions of the sacred scriptures and the teachings of his teacher.
Here, the generally accepted stages of “shravana” and “manana” are being described. First, the student receives an explanation, a verbal transmission, and then carefully reflects on all of it, trying to eliminate all obscurities. Working with the teaching does not mean being a passive listener. The student must show initiative; if no initiative is shown, there will be no results from the teaching either, because the teaching is not theory, even though at a certain level it is presented theoretically. But the Teaching itself says: “Now go and do something! We are expecting something from you.”
Senior monks sometimes look at novices or laypeople so mysteriously, as though they expect something from them. Their expression seems to say: “We are expecting something from you. Do you even think about the fact that you should be doing something, changing in some way? Or do you intend to go on like this?”
What is meant by this “changing” and “doing something”? It does not mean that we are talking about any physical actions, since the teaching of laya yoga is very subtle. Doing something means beginning to work with contemplation, beginning to truly enter into presence and apply it in one’s life. That is, beginning to attain the level of self-control that actually makes you a laya yogi, and gradually beginning to live by it. The spiritual teacher also looks at the student, as if hinting: “You have to do something.”
What is the student trying to do? We are not talking specifically about technical or basic practices now, since that goes without saying. Nor are we talking about the external side of the teaching: daily bhajan mandalas, bows, prostrations—all of this is the external path of the teaching. We are talking about the subtlest thing the student must do. Laya yoga as the principal teaching consists in working with awareness and practicing contemplative presence, developing mastery in this. This requires great responsibility from us.
When we work with awareness, we can no longer rely on God in heaven, who is somewhere taking care of us; that is no longer enough. Nor can we merely rely on the guru, thinking: “Since the spiritual teacher has accepted me as a disciple, the work is done.” Nothing of the kind! Because becoming a disciple presupposes beginning some kind of work. Even the Buddha cannot save living beings if living beings do not practice themselves. Otherwise, the buddhas and saints would have transported all living beings from samsara to the pure lands long ago. Yet this does not happen. Why? Because the living soul possesses free will given to it by the Creator. In other words, it must itself come to understand the necessity of inner work. Subtle awareness cannot be generated by an act of will from outside or by any other means. A yogin can be given shaktipat, a direct transmission can be given, but he must work on maintaining subtle awareness himself.
Therefore, the student enters precisely into the process of working with contemplation. And this process begins with choosing one of the eight sankalpas and trying to train with it until the path of working with the sankalpa becomes clear to us. These may be the sankalpas of “Atma-vichara,” “Sleep,” “Divine Pride,” “Space,” “Brahma-vichara,” or others, but usually the simplest ones are taken as the main ones. The essence is that the sankalpa is the key to your contemplation. And then you see that within this entire vast world of samsara, which is contained in the subtle body and would confuse anyone, it is possible to work, and that in one lifetime it is possible to untie very strong knots.
Practical Application of Knowledge
The student is able to ascertain the highest truth clearly and confidently. After this, the established knowledge of the unity of the highest Essence must be applied in practice (even by force, if necessary) until he has an experience of the truth.
It is said: “It must be applied in practice even with effort, if necessary,” until the experience of the truth arises.
There comes a point when, if your abilities permit, you practice by exerting great willpower, performing tapas, and following an ascetic spiritual discipline. However, I do not recommend that beginners take up tapas from the very beginning. Tapas must be mature. In other words, in ancient India, siddhas and rishis began ascetic practice only after spending their entire lives in the Brahmin caste, engaging throughout their lives in Vedic rituals, absorbing yogic exercises into their blood, and imbibing the Vedas with their mother’s milk. Naturally, after forty or fifty years of life in such an environment, it is not difficult to take up tapas in the jungle, because through the entire structure of society, the varnas, ashramas, dharma, and upbringing, you had been moving toward it. But recommending that students begin with tapas is incorrect. Therefore, at first we perform tapas through service. For example, when you engage in service and train in the practice, that is your orientation toward dharma. Gradually, as your abilities allow, you move on to subtle inner tapas, when long and intensive retreats begin.
Realization of the Inner Essence
After experiencing the inner Essence, he will now be able to identify his highest Essence with the Supreme Essence and thereby destroy the root of ignorance. There is no doubt about this.
The inner Essence is realized in advanced contemplation, and this state of realization is called nirvikalpa samadhi. The memory of this realization makes it possible to identify the inner highest Essence with the universal highest Essence as “I am That.”
As you know, we have seven stages of training, seven levels of spiritual realization. I always recommend that students orient themselves toward them. If monks use them as their reference points, then among lay students there are currently only two people who have passed the first stage. These stages are not formal. Formal examinations, theory, and technical methods are only a small part; the essence of the examination for a stage reflects your spiritual realization, samadhi. For example, the examination for the sixth stage presupposes samadhi lasting several hours with cessation of breathing, nirvikalpa samadhi; the examination for the fifth stage presupposes the development of visions during a dark retreat. In other words, to pass a stage and take the examination for it means reaching a new level of awareness and opening up an entirely new world. Thus, by practicing through the stages, you move toward the summits of mastery. Without passing through these stages as special key points in the teaching, it is impossible to rise. The examination for the fourth and fifth stages means passing a nonconceptual dialogue with the guru. It is difficult to pass, nevertheless it is possible.
One lay student who had practiced yoga for about thirty years once approached me and said:
– Well, why should I take the examination? I have been practicing for so long already. I fully understand everything you write about, and I like it all very much. I am very confident in myself. And retreats? My whole life is a retreat!
I sensed a completely frivolous state and said to him:
– Let us test you a little, so that you can be confident in the high level of your own realization, – and I began asking him special questions, but I heard absolutely nothing that would indicate a high level. – You see, you are already 50 years old, and yet you have such a frivolous attitude toward dharma. If Son Chol Sunim were in my place, you would receive a teapot on the head, whereas I treat the students gently. You need to engage seriously in the practice and meditate next time in such a way that you can answer the questions asked.
Spiritual Growth Through Progressing Through the Stages
It is precisely testing and progressing through the stages that allows us to see certain personal mistakes and barriers standing in our way. It is a challenge to us, so that we can move forward by changing ourselves. With all my heart, I wish to assign the highest stages to the students, but if I do this without cause, the benefit will be the same as that of handing out medals indiscriminately. The true purpose of the stages is the student’s spiritual growth, so that they actually dissolve all dualistic ideas about themselves.
“This is the unity of the highest Essence, and it is the same as identifying the individual transcendent with the transcendence of the entire diversity of the world, which appears to be divided into separate individuals. This destroys the root of ignorance immediately and completely.
It is said that dhyāna passes into nirvikalpa samādhi. While modifications signify the multifaceted nature of consciousness, nirvikalpa signifies its unified, unitary nature.
When the mind does not generate an image conditioned by thoughts, this is the unchanging state that is its original and pure condition.
When the images that were painted on the wall are erased, only the original wall remains. No other work is required to restore its original state.”
Three Types of Spiritual Seekers
Spiritual seekers are divided into three groups: the best, the middle class, and the worst. The best are called divya (divine), the middle class are called vīra (heroic yogis), and the lowest are called paśu (bound by their nature). It is very important to determine the type of our nature so that we can work specifically with the circumstances in which we find ourselves. If we incorrectly determine the type of our nature, we may choose the wrong tactics and expend a great deal of effort on the wrong path. Naturally, many people want to belong to the best nature, that is, to the divya. And they think: “Surely I am definitely divya!” When they hear that divya attain realization spontaneously at the moment of explanation, without effort, this is especially appealing to them.
Divya Yogis
The best class of spiritual seekers—the divya yogis—do not require great effort on their part for spiritual realization. They receive transmission at the moment of explanation, and then the transmission grows within them as a natural state, blending with life. The best type of spiritual seeker becomes disillusioned with saṃsāric life independently and gains knowledge by actively seeking it.
Vīra Yogis
The middle type of spiritual seeker—the vīra yogi—has a strong will and powerful concentration. They do not awaken at the moment of explanation, but possess tremendous determination and self-control. They are capable of heroic feats and tapas. They also easily part with saṃsāric attachments, never have doubts, and possess tremendous faith. They are free from human-bound concepts and fixed ideas, and value dharma as their life.
Paśu Yogis
Finally, a yogi of the paśu category, or one bound by a lower nature, has many doubts and hesitations. They part with attachments only with great difficulty. They assimilate the teaching only after hearing it repeatedly, and once they have assimilated it, they do not retain it. Such a yogi self-liberates the mind only after a very large number of years spent in spiritual practice and the accumulation of merit.
Paths to Attaining Liberation
It is said that yogis of the lowest type attain enlightenment through many births; their spiritual life is projected into the next life. In this life, they prepare so that in the next life they can begin their practice again. If they practice well in this life, in the future they are born in the human realm into a wealthy family of intelligent parents, in a country where dharma exists, and at a young age they find a teacher. Yogis of the middle type, preparing their consciousness throughout their entire lives for the culmination—the decisive act of reunion with the highest state—attain liberation at the moment of death. Finally, yogis of the highest type attain liberation while still alive.
It is reassuring that these three types are not something static. We can change the type of our own “self.” That is, starting from the lowest type, in the course of spiritual practice we can build ourselves as a vira yogin. In other words, the mind becomes clear, and suddenly we see that our potential is no longer satisfied with identifying itself as pashu, but already aspires to the status of vira. Then we can move on to another type of spiritual seeker, and a new set of possibilities opens up for us. Further, when we practice very deeply in the status of vira, we can also see that realization may spontaneously awaken within us, and that we may aspire to the type of divya. Thus, these three classes are not something fixed, but something we ourselves can regulate and choose—this is precisely how the ancient mahasiddhas practiced.
In the opinion of ordinary people, some mahasiddhas could even have been classified as pashu. For example, one was an avid dice player, another was strongly attached to food, and a third was a thief—all of these are characteristics pointing to pashu. Nevertheless, having received instructions from a master, they managed in a short time to transform their nature from pashu into vira and divya, and to become the greatest saints.
How Different Types of Yogins Perceive Tasks
How do yogins of different categories perceive a task? Even if it is a difficult task, divya perceives it with love and complete dedication. Vira perceives it as a challenge, as something to be fought and defeated, demonstrating oneself. Pashu perceives it as something best avoided if possible, since it disrupts his integrity.
Divya is guided by a divine state and therefore perceives everything as grace. Vira is guided by his own will, by notions of a practitioner’s honor, and by faith in himself. Pashu is guided by his own limitations.
For example, if a yogin of the divya category receives a task in practice or service, he perceives it as a blessing. If a yogin of the vira category receives a task or an act of service, he perceives it as an opportunity to demonstrate his qualities and higher abilities, to justify the trust placed in him and not to disgrace himself, and as a means of growth in his own eyes or in the eyes of those around him. Pashu has very limited notions of himself and does not believe in his own strength, so he perceives any new task approximately as follows: “I won’t be able to do it. It would be better if this had nothing to do with me. It would be better for me to live my usual life.” Vira perceives it this way: “Who won’t be able to do it? I won’t be able to do it?! That’s impossible!” Divya thinks as follows: “God does everything, and I am simply His instrument. It is impossible that I should fail, because God does everything, and God is perfect.”
This is precisely how we, as practitioners, develop in our own spiritual lives.
