THE MAHARSHI 3-4/2002

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THE MAHARSHI

March/April 2002Vol. 12 - No. 2

Produced & Edited byDennis HartelDr. Anil K. Sharma

My Life and Quest By Arthur Osborne

The following are extracts from the new publication, My Life and

Quest, the autobiography of Arthur Osborne. The manuscript for this

book was long buried among other writings and recently made available

to Sri Ramanasramam for publication by his daughter, Katya Douglas.

Copies are now available at Arunachala Ashrama (see page 7).

There is one flank of the mountain where the ascent is sheer, with no

pleasure groves to rest in on the way, where, to compensate for this,

the path is direct and the crest already visible from the plains below

and throughout the ascent. This is the direct path taught by Bhagavan.

There are no stages on this path.

It was about 6 o'clock one June morning in 1956 that the first

awakening to Reality occurred. I was alone in the room when I awoke

and sat up

in bed. I just was - my Self, the beginningless, immutable Self. I had

thought 'nothing is changed'. In theory I already understood that it

is not anything new; what is eternal cannot be new, what is new

cannot be eternal. The only description is what Bhagavan has given:

"It is as it is." Only now I experienced it. There was no excitement,

no joy or ecstasy, just an immeasurable contentment, the natural

state, the wholeness of simple being. There was the thought: 'It is

impossible ever to be bored.' The mind seemed like a dark screen that

had shut out true consciousness and was now rolled up and pushed away.

 

I do not know how long this experience lasted. In any case, while it

lasted it was timeless and therefore eternal. Imperceptibly the mind

closed over again, but less opaque, for a radiant happiness

continued. I had my bath and shaved and dressed and then went into

the sitting room, where I sat down and I held the newspaper up in

front of me as though I was reading it, so that no one would see the

radiance. I was too vibrant with happiness really to read. Why did I

want to hide the radiance? Why did I not shout and dance with joy?

A person's whole life is a path he treads, leading to the ordained

end. If at some point it becomes consciously so, that is the great

blessing which makes achievement an envisaged goal.

It is dissatisfaction with the false that leads a man to seek the

true. When asked why one should seek Self-realization, Bhagavan has

been known to answer: "Who asked you to? If you are satisfied with

your present life, stay as you are. But many people become

dissatisfied, and when you realize the Self your discontent will

vanish."

As I have already explained, outer activity is useful on Bhagavan's

path, but it should be aloof activity which keeps the mind working

smoothly on the surface while underneath the current of meditation

can continue. Emotionally involved activity, on the other hand, is

harmful, since it turns the mind outwards, absorbing it in the

activity and thereby impeding spiritual progress.

Once Bhagavan has taken up a person, his destiny becomes more

purposeful, is speeded up, so to say. From a worldly point of view

this may be for good or ill; prosperity may be needed for one's

development, adversity for another.

The purpose of meditation is to steady the mind and prevent it jumping

and chattering like a monkey by holding it to one thought. If you

suspend its activity without the one thought, that is still better.

If it becomes too restive the best way of controlling it is either by

an act of Self-enquiry, turning steadily to see whether it really

exists or not, and what it is that exists, or by an act of faith and

submission, resigning yourself to keep still and let the Unknown take

charge.

Restricting activity is like trying to kill a tree by picking off the

flowers and fruit; attacking the vasanas is like breaking off the

branches; Self-enquiry is like uprooting the tree. The worst method

is to try to destroy the vasanas by gratifying them. That has the

opposite effect, like trying to put a fire out by pouring oil on it.

It is not actions that impede one's sadhana nor spiritual strife, but

the vasanas, that is the deep-seated desires or tendencies giving

rise to the actions. Indeed sadhana is sometimes represented simply

as the elimination of vasanas, since it is these which turn the mind

outwards, fling one into unnecessary activity, and drag the

consciousness back to rebirth after this life has finished. Aloof or

routine activity which does not nourish the vasanas is harmless; only

emotional activity is dangerous.

Indeed after coming to Bhagavan I never prayed for anything, except

sometimes for greater energy and determination on the quest - and

that prayer is part of the quest itself. Not that there is anything

against prayer in the sense of request. If a man makes physical and

mental efforts to attain his desires it is only sensible to make

spiritual efforts also. But the man who follows the direct path of

Self-enquiry is striving to dissolve the ego that has the desires, so

how can he at the same time pray to gratify them? It would be

contradictory, going against his own efforts, however high or

unselfish the desires may seem to be. He simply lets things come as

they will, asking to whom it is that they come.

Even the path of devotion and submission leaves no place for prayer in

the sense of petition if it is wholehearted as Bhagavan demanded.

Asking is not submitting. If one is totally submitted to the Will of

God, the only prayer that remains is 'Thy Will Be Done'. And since

one knows that God's Will is always done, whether one prays for it or

not, even that becomes redundant. All one can say is: "I surrender

myself to You; do as You like with it." And beyond even that comes

the attitude: 'There is nothing to surrender. All this is Yours. I

surrender only the false idea I had that it was mine.'

Retirement did not mean a life of hobbies and gentle pottering, but

only of a more complete dedication, more constant effort. Indeed it

is dangerous for one on the quest to retire from life in the world

too early. If the mind is not yet capable of holding day long to the

quest, it is better for it to have some surface activity such as

professional work. Failing this, it will find relief in some

trivialities, daydreaming, imagination or erudition, or fall into

some false kind of half-sleep, half-trance; in some way its keenness

will be impaired.

The mind is like a mill grinding the thoughts that we constantly feed

into it in an unbroken though ever-changing flow. It doesn't care

whether grave or trivial so long as it is kept constantly supplied.

And at night, in dreams, it chews over the cud of what was supplied

to it by day. Nearly all this activity is wasted energy. It prevents

concentration and does not really clarify one's mind. And all of it

is based on the very assumption one is trying to destroy, of an

individual being who decides and acts. So I began instead to suspend

thought, refusing to feed anything into the mill, retaining only pure

consciousness - and, of course, observation of things happening. The

mind was allowed to deal with anything requiring thought as and when

it arose, but not prefigure it before it arose or re-enact it after

it was finished. I

was surprised how simple and what a relief this was and wondered why I

had not started doing it systematically long before; and then it

occurred to me that without a good deal of previous meditation it

would not have been feasible. Until it has been brought well under

control the mind abhors a vacuum.

Therefore what has to be done is to submit, take life as it comes, let

things happen, while at the same time striving to wake up from it all.

As long as it is taken to be real, the dream cannot be recognised as

one and therefore there is no awakening.

 

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