Maya and Freedom

[Guest guest]

Is there no hope then? True it is that we are all slaves of Maya,

born in Maya, and live in Maya. Is there then no way out, no hope?

That we are all miserable, that this world is really a prison, that

even our so-called trailing beauty is but a prison-house, and that

even our intellects and minds are prison-houses, have been known for

ages upon ages. There has never been a man, there has never been a

human soul, who has not felt this sometime or other, however he may

talk. And the old people feel it most, because in them is the

accumulated experience of a whole life, because they cannot be easily

cheated by the lies of nature. Is there no way out? We find that with

all this, with this terrible fact before us, in the midst of sorrow

and suffering, even in this world where life and death are

synonymous, even here, there is a still small voice that is ringing

through all ages, through every country, and in every heart: " This My

Maya is divine, made up of qualities, and very difficult to cross.

Yet those that come unto Me, cross the river of life. " " Come unto Me

all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. "

This is the voice that is leading us forward. Man has heard it, and

is hearing it all through the ages. This voice comes to men when

everything seems to be lost and hope has fled, when man's dependence

on his own strength has been crushed down, and everything seems to

melt away between his fingers, and life is a hopeless ruin. Then he

hears it. This is called religion.

 

On the one side, therefore, is the bold assertion that this is all

nonsense, that this is Maya, but along with it, there is the most

hopeful assertion that beyond Maya, there is a way out. On the other

hand, practical men tell us, " Don't bother your heads about such

nonsense as religion and metaphysics. Live here; this is a very bad

world indeed, but make the best of it. " Which put in plain language

means, live a hypocritical, lying life, a life of continuous fraud,

covering all the sores in the best way you can. Go on putting patch

after patch, until everything is lost, and you are a mass of

patchwork. This is what is called practical life. Those that are

satisfied with this patchwork will never come to religion. Religion

begins with a tremendous dissatisfaction with the present state of

things, with our lives, and a hatred, an intense hatred, for this

patching up of life, an unbounded disgust for fraud and lies. He

alone can be religious who dares say, as the mighty Buddha once said

under the Bo-tree, when this idea of practicality appeared before him

and he saw that it was nonsense, and yet could not find a way out.

When the temptation came to him to give up his search after truth, to

go back to the world and live the old life of fraud, calling things

by wrong names, telling lies to oneself and to everybody, he, the

giant, conquered it and said, " Death is better than a vegetating

ignorant life; it is better to die on the battle-field than to live a

life of defeat. " This is the basis of religion. When a man takes this

stand, he is on the way to find the truth, he is on the way to God.

That determination must be the first impulse towards becoming

religious. I will hew out a way for myself. I will know the truth or

give up my life in the attempt. For on this side it is nothing, it is

gone, it is vanishing every day. The beautiful, hopeful, young person

of today is the veteran of tomorrow. Hopes and joys and pleasures

will die like blossoms with tomorrow's frost. That is one side; on

the other, there are the great charms of conquest, victories over all

the ills of life, victory over life itself, the conquest of the

universe. On that side men can stand. Those who dare, therefore, to

struggle for victory, for truth, for religion, are in the right way;

and that is what the Vedas preach: Be not in despair; the way is very

difficult, like walking on the edge of a razor; yet despair not,

arise, awake, and find the ideal, the goal.

 

- Swami Vivekananda

 

.... to be continued