VOLUME 10 ISSUE 1 SPRING 2024

SPIRITUALITY STUDIESVolume 10 / Issue 1 SPRING 2024

Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 Publisher: The Society for Spirituality Studies Published in partnership with the Monastic Interreligious Dialogue and the European Union of Yoga Available online: www.spirituality-studies.org Editor-in-Chief: Doc. Dr. Martin Dojčár PhD. Graphic Design: Martin Hynek Contact: editor@spirituality-studies.org ISSN 1339-9578 Donate Spirituality Studies’ mission is to deliver high-quality studies, articles, educational materials, and information related to spirituality in its various forms. At the same time, the journal provides a forum for sharing personal spiritual experiences. By combining academic and experiential approaches to spirituality, Spirituality Studies aims to provide a unique platform for dialogue between a variety of viewpoints, approaches, and methodologies in the study of spirituality. Spirituality Studies publishes all articles under the open access policy, allowing for unlimited public use. Please consider donating to support the continued publishing of Spirituality Studies as an open-access journal for free. ←← Śrī Ramana Maharshi (1879–1950). Portrait by G. G. Welling, 1948; colored. Content 1 Editorial Martin Dojčár 2 Self-Investigation and Self-Surrender: The Core Teachings of Bhagavan Ramana Michael James 41 Entheogens and Sacred Psychology Samuel Bendeck Sotillos 70 Interpreting UFO Events in a Post-Religious Culture Amir Azarvan 79 Hermeneutics of Scripture and its Relation to Personal Spirituality according to Gregory the Great Miloš Lichner 86 Internet Gaming Disorder in Adolescents in the Context of Spirituality and Life Satisfaction Veronika Mihaliková, Mária Dědová, Vladimír Filipovič

Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 1 EDITORIAL Editorial Spirit manifests in human experience as intentional consciousness – the innate human capacity to be aware of objects, either sensory or mental. To be aware of objects is to bring objects into consciousness, metaphorically speaking, to place them in the field or space of consciousness. Therefore, the fundamental structural component of intentional consciousness is attention. Attention is the ability to direct consciousness toward objects, so to speak, to illuminate them, and thus to make them knowable. Attention and awareness are synonymous. Intentional consciousness is also referred to as the ego. The term ego specifically relates to object-related consciousness, where consciousness is attached to an object through the mechanism of projecting attention onto it. This mechanism creates a subject-object duality with the subject, the ego, at its core. However, the subject is often immersed in an object to the extent that it loses itself in it. The immersion of the subject identified with the object describes the philosophical concept of existence. Existence literally means “to be outside oneself”, as the etymology of the Latin word existentia suggests: ex – “out of, from”, sta – “to stand” – one “stands outside of oneself” lost in an object. Insofar as human existence is an “alienation of being” or an alienation of consciousness as consciousness, i.e., Spirit, spirituality is an effort to transcend this self-alienation by overcoming the natural flow of attention to objects and its immersion in them caused by the ego. The spring edition of the tenth volume of Spirituality Studies brings together several studies on this key theme of spirituality. These studies include the non-dual philosophy and practice of the Tamil jñ ā nī Ramana Maharshi and perennial psychology, particularly in relation to the sacred practice of entheogens. Dear readers, please accept my invitation to delve into these topics and draw some inspiration from the insights of the authors featured in the Spring 2024 edition of Spirituality Studies. Cordially Martin Dojčár

2 Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 Michael James Self-Investigation and SelfSurrender: The Core Teachings of Bhagavan Ramana

Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 3 Michael James Received February 28, 2024 Revised March 9, 2024 Accepted March 10, 2024 Key words Self, being, awareness, happiness, bhakti, tmavic ra, ego Is it possible for us to attain infinite and eternal happiness, untainted by even the least misery, and if so, how can we do so and what is the price we must be willing to pay for it? According to the teachings of Bhagavan Ramana, it is possible, and the means to attain it is to investigate and know what we actually are, for which the price to be paid is complete surrender of ourself to what alone is real, which requires wholehearted and all-consuming “love” (Sa. bhakti) born of and nurtured in our heart by the grace of God, who is what we actually are and what alone is real. This paper explores these teachings and their rationale as expressed by Bhagavan in his own original Tamil writings. Michael James is one of the most prominent contemporary promoters of the teachings of the Indian sage Śr Ramana Maharshi (1879–1950). His approach is based on the primary sources’ scholarship and experiential practice of contemplation (self-investigation). Michael’s understanding of Śr Ramana’s teachings has been shaped by the direct influence of his close friendship and association with Sadhu Om (1922–1985), a Tamil j n , poet, writer, editor, and devotee of Ramana Maharshi. Michael can be reached by email at mdajames@gmail.com. ←← Śrī Ramana Maharshi (1879–1950). Portrait by G. G. Welling, 1948.

4 Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 1 Introduction The core teachings of Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi (1879–1950) are centred around the need for us to investigate what we actually are and to surrender ourself, because he taught that knowing ourself as we actually are and thereby giving up all that we now mistake ourself to be is the summum bonum. But why is it the summum bonum? Why is it necessary for us to investigate and know what we actually are? Do we not already know what we actually are? If we are not what we now seem to be, then what are we? What stands in the way of our knowing ourself as we actually are? What is the nature of self-knowledge, and how does it differ from all other kinds of knowledge? How can we know what we actually are? Is self-investigation the only means, or are there other means? Is not the grace of God required? Can we not know ourself by means of “devotion” (Sa. bhakti)? What is self-surrender, and how is it related to self-investigation? How can we surrender ourself completely to God? How can we know God as he actually is? Can we know him as he actually is without knowing ourself as we actually are? Can we know him without surrendering ourself completely to him? All these and many other related questions have been clearly answered by Bhagavan Ramana either explicitly or implicitly in his teachings, so this paper aims to answer these questions on the basis of his teachings and the logical reasons they provide. However, if we want to understand what answers he provided clearly and unequivocally to all such questions, we need to consider what sources of his teachings we can confidently rely upon. The most popular sources are various books in which conversations with him were recorded in English, but such books are not the most reliable sources for a number of reasons. Firstly, though he could understand English and speak it when necessary, he seldom spoke more than a few sentences in English. He generally answered questions in Tamil, or occasionally in Telugu or Malayalam, so what has been recorded in English is not his own words. Secondly, whatever answers he gave were always tailored to suit the spiritual needs of whoever asked him questions, so the answers he gave were often not accurate representations of his core teachings. And thirdly, those who recorded his answers did so from memory, albeit often within a few hours of hearing them, so what they recorded was what they remembered of what they had understood rather than what he had actually said. If we listen to a conversation and afterwards try to record what we heard, what we record will not be verbatim but will only be our general impression of what was said, so it will have been filtered through and therefore coloured by firstly our understanding and secondly our memory. Therefore, though such books do contain useful ideas, and though we can get a general impression of his teachings by reading them, we should not assume that everything recorded in such books is an accurate account of his core teachings. Fortunately, however, we do not have to rely on such second-hand sources, because he wrote one original prose work and about a dozen poetic ones in which he expressed his core teachings in his own words, so these original writings of his are the primary and most reliable source from which we can understand the core principles of his teachings in a clear, coherent, systematic and unambiguous manner. Therefore in this paper I aim to discuss and explain his core teachings in the clear light of his own original writings. All the passages I cite are my own translations of these writings, in which I have endeavoured to convey their meaning as accurately as possible, and in the notes I give the original Tamil text of each of these passages. 2 We Like to Be Happy Because Happiness Is Our Real Nature It is the nature of ourself as “ego” or jīva (Sa. a “soul” or “sentient being”) to have likes, dislikes, wants, wishes, desires, aversions, attachments, hopes, fears and so on, and to act by mind, speech and body under the sway of such inclinations. That is, we are naturally inclined to like, love, want, desire, wish for, hope for or be attached to whatever we believe to be in some way or other conducive to our happiness or satisfaction, and to dislike, hate, be averse to or fear whatever we believe to be in some way or other detrimental to our happiness or satisfaction, so what we all ultimately like, love and want is to be happy or satisfied. Whatever we may do by mind, speech or body, we do it in the expectation or hope that it will at least to some extent give us happiness or satisfaction, or that it will at least to some extent relieve us of our suffering or dissatisfaction, which amounts to the same. Even the kindest, most caring, most altruistic or most self-sacrificing action we may do is ultimately motivated by our fundamental love for happiness or satisfaction. We are pained when we see others suffering, so we are relieved and happy when their suffering is removed, and hence we are happy to do whatever we can to help relieve them of their suffering or to give them whatever joy we can. Our liking to be happy or satisfied and to be free of unhappiness or dissatisfaction is therefore the fundamental liking that underlies and motivates all our

Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 5 Michael James other likes, dislikes, wants, wishes, desires, aversions, attachments, hopes, fears and so on, and hence all the actions that we do by mind, speech and body under the sway of these various elements of our will. What I refer to here as “happiness or satisfaction” is what is called in Sanskrit sukha, which means “happiness”, “satisfaction”, “joy”, “delight”, “comfort”, “ease”, “well-being”, “pleasantness”, “relief” or “alleviation”, and what I refer to here as “unhappiness or dissatisfaction” is what is called in Sanskrit duḥkha, which means “unhappiness”, “dissatisfaction”, “suffering”, “misery”, “sorrow”, “grief”, “sadness”, “pain”, “anguish”, “distress”, “discomfort”, “uneasiness”, “unpleasantness”, “difficulty” or “trouble”. The relief or alleviation of duḥkha is therefore sukha, and this is what we all ultimately want and are striving for, as Bhagavan Ramana points out in the first paragraph of his prose treatise Nāṉ Ār? (Who am I?): Since all sentient beings [Sa. jīvas] like to be always happy [Sa. sukha] without what is called misery [Sa. duḥkha], since for everyone the greatest love is only for oneself, and since happiness [Sa. sukha] alone is the cause for love, to obtain that happiness [Sa. sukha], which is one’s own nature [Sa. svabhāva], which one experiences daily in sleep [Sa. nidrā], which is devoid of mind, oneself knowing oneself is necessary. For that, awareness-investigation [Sa. jñāna-vicāra] called ‘who am I’ alone is the principal means. [1] Nāṉ Ār? was originally a series of questions asked by a devotee called Sivaprakasam Pillai and answers given by Bhagavan in 1901 or 1902, when he was in his early twenties, but was not published until 1923. Since it formed such a concise and accurate presentation of his core teachings, a few years later Bhagavan rearranged and rewrote it in the form of a twenty-paragraph essay, omitting most of the questions and refining the wording of some of his answers recorded by Sivaprakasam Pillai, and when doing so he added this introductory paragraph, which was not part of the answers he had originally given. This is therefore a very important paragraph and an apt introduction to his teachings. The arguments he gives in this paragraph therefore deserve careful consideration. In the first three clauses of the first sentence he states three premises, from which he expects us to conclude that happiness is our real nature. The first premise is that we all like to be happy and free of duḥkham (Sa. “misery”, “unhappiness” or “dissatisfaction”), which by itself is an indication that happiness is natural to us and unhappiness is unnatural to us, because as he points out in the same context in the introduction (Ta. avatārikai) he wrote for his Tamil adaptation of Vivēkacūḍāmaṇi, our liking to be free of unhappiness is similar to our liking to be free of disease and other conditions that are not natural to us. The second premise is that we all love ourself more than we love any other thing (because love for ourself is our very nature, and is therefore unlimited), and herein lies the significance of the third premise, namely that happiness alone is the cause for love. That is, since we love to be happy, we naturally love whatever seems to us to be a source of happiness. Therefore, the fact that we each love ourself above all other things is a powerful indication that we ourself are the ultimate source of happiness, because happiness is our real nature. Then he begins the main clause of this sentence, “to obtain that happiness, which is one’s own nature, which one experiences daily in sleep, which is devoid of mind, oneself knowing oneself is necessary” (Ta. “maṉam aṯṟa niddiraiyil diṉam aṉubhavikkum taṉ subhāvam āṉa a-c-sukhattai y-aḍaiya-t taṉṉai-t tāṉ aṟidal vēṇḍum”), by giving another compelling reason why we should conclude that happiness is our real nature, namely that we experience happiness (without even the slightest trace of unhappiness) daily in dreamless sleep, which is a state devoid of mind and hence devoid of everything else except our own being, “I am”. Since nothing other than ourself exists and shines in sleep, and since we are perfectly happy in that state in which we are aware of nothing other than our own being, it should be clear to any of us who consider our experience in sleep deeply and carefully enough that unlimited happiness is indeed our own real nature, meaning that it is what we actually are: our very being or existence. 3 To Experience Infinite Happiness, We Must Investigate and Know What We Actually Are When such is the case, “to obtain that happiness, oneself knowing oneself is necessary” (Ta. “a-c-sukhattai y-aḍaiya-t taṉṉai-t tāṉ aṟidal vēṇḍum”). In other words, it is necessary for us to be aware of ourself as we actually are, and for that, concludes Bhagavan, “awareness-investigation called who am I alone is the principal means” (Ta. “nāṉ-ār eṉṉum ñāṉavicāram-ē mukkhiya sādhaṉam”; in his original manuscript he underlined this clause in red ink, and hence it is generally printed in bold type). That is, in order for us to be aware of ourself as we actually are and thereby to experience the infinite happiness

6 Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 that is our own real nature, it is necessary for us to investigate what we actually are, so “self-investigation” (Sa. ātma-vicāra), which is investigation of our fundamental awareness, “I am”, is the “principal means” (Sa. mukhya sādhana), in the same sense that a major river into which many tributaries flow is the principal means by which the water from all those tributaries is to reach the ocean. Since the ocean we are all seeking to reach is the ocean of infinite happiness, which is the state in which we are eternally and immutably aware of ourself as we actually are, and since we cannot know what we actually are without investigating ourself, all other spiritual practices are like tributaries that must eventually lead practitioners to the great river of self-investigation, which alone can discharge them into the ocean of infinite happiness. 4 Though We Always Know Ourself, We Do Not Know Ourself as We Actually Are When Bhagavan says in the above passage that it is necessary for oneself to know oneself, that implies that in our present state, in which we are still seeking happiness as if it were something other than ourself, we do not know ourself, but what exactly does he mean by “oneself knowing oneself” (Ta. “taṉṉai-t tāṉ aṟidal”)? Do we not already know ourself? In a sense we do, because knowing ourself is a prerequisite for knowing anything else, since whatever else we may know, we know it as “I know this”, meaning that we know ourself as the first person or subject, “I”, the knower of all other things. In what sense, therefore, did he mean that knowing ourself is necessary? In this context “knowing ourself” means being aware of ourself, but there is never a moment when we are not aware of ourself. That is, we are always aware of the existence of ourself as “I am”. However, though we know that we are, we do not know what we are, because we now know ourself as something other than what we actually are. Therefore what he means by “knowing ourself” is not just knowing that we are but knowing what we are, and “knowing what we are” means not just knowing some factual information about our real identity such as “I am brahman” (in which brahman is a term that refers to “the one infinite, indivisible and immutable whole”, which is the ultimate reality of ourself and all other things, and whose nature is sat-cit-ānanda, “being-awareness-happiness”) but actually being aware of ourself as we actually are. 5 If We Are Not What We Now Seem to Be, Then What Are We? So what is it that prevents us being aware of ourself as we actually are? At present we are aware of ourself as if we were a person, a bundle consisting of “five sheaths” (Sa. pañca-kōśa), namely a physical body, the life that animates it, and the mind, intellect and will that seem to function within it. This bundle of five sheaths that we now mistake ourself to be is what Bhagavan generally referred to as “body”, as he points out in verse 5 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu: The body is a form of five sheaths. Therefore all five are included in the term body. [2] Throughout our states of waking and dream we are aware of ourself as “I am this body”, so why does he say that this is a false awareness of ourself, and the root cause of all our problems? We cannot be anything in the absence of which we still exist, nor can we be anything that we are not aware of in any state in which we are aware of our existence. In dream we are aware of ourself without being aware of the physical body that we now take ourself to be, and now we are aware of ourself without being aware of the seemingly physical body that we took ourself to be in dream, so neither of these bodies can be what we actually are. However, the mind, intellect and will that we take ourself to be now are the same mind, intellect and will that we take ourself to be in dream, so are these what we actually are? They cannot be, because we are aware of our existence in sleep without being aware of any of these things, so since the only thing we are aware of in all three states, waking, dream and sleep, is our own existence, our very being, “I am”, we cannot actually be anything other than this. Some people may object to this, arguing that we were not aware of anything in sleep, so it is not correct to say that we were aware of our existence then. It is true that we were not aware of any phenomena in sleep, not even of the passing of time, but we were nevertheless aware of our own existence, because if we were not aware of our existence while we were asleep, we would not now be so clearly aware of having been in a state in which we were not aware of anything else. That is, if we were not aware of our existence in sleep (in other words, if we were not aware of being in that state, in which we were not aware of anything else), we would not now be aware that we were ever in such a state, so what we would now be aware of ex-

Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 7 Michael James periencing would be a seemingly uninterrupted succession of alternating states of waking and dream without any gap between them. Therefore, since we are now clearly aware of having experienced frequent gaps between alternating states of waking and dream, gaps that we call sleep, in which we were not aware of anything other than ourself, we must not only have existed in such gaps but must also have been aware of existing then. In other words, if sleep were a state in which we were not aware of our existence, we would not now be aware of ever having existed in such a state. Therefore we can logically conclude that we were certainly aware of our existence while we were asleep, and no one who considers this carefully and deeply enough can reasonably doubt this to be the case. Moreover, to the extent to which we investigate what we actually are by being self-attentive in waking or dream, it will become clear to us, no matter how faintly at first, that our own existence, “I am”, is distinct from the appearance of all phenomena, including the person we seem to be (not only the physical body of this person but also all its other components, namely life, mind, intellect and will), and to the extent that it thereby becomes clear to us that we are distinct from all phenomena, it will also become clear to us that we did exist and were aware of our existence in the absence of all phenomena in sleep. What we actually are is therefore not any of the transitory phenomena that appear in waking and dream but disappear in sleep, but only our fundamental awareness of our own existence, “I am”, which exists and shines without a break throughout all these three states. All phenomena are objects known by us, so we are not any object, nor are we even the subject, because the subject who knows all objects is ego, which appears together with objects in waking and dream and disappears with them in sleep. What we actually are is the pure, adjunct-free awareness “I am”, whereas ego is the adjunct-conflated awareness “I am this body”. Therefore, though we now seem to be ego, it is not what we actually are, but a conflation of what we actually are and a set of adjuncts, namely a person, a body consisting of five sheaths. The two defining characteristics of ego are that as ego we are always aware of ourself as “I am this body”, and consequently we are aware of other phenomena. Since in sleep we are not aware of ourself as “I am this body”, nor are we aware of any phenomena, we seem to be ego only in waking and dream but not in sleep, so since we exist and shine in sleep without ego, ego cannot be what we actually are. Therefore we are not any object or even the subject, but only pure “being-awareness” (Sa. sat-cit), which is what always shines as “I am”, and which is therefore the sole reality that underlies and supports the seeming existence of ourself as ego. Since all phenomena seem to exist only in the view of ourself as ego, they depend for their seeming existence upon the seeming existence of ourself as ego, and ego depends for its seeming existence upon the one real existence, namely the pure awareness “I am”. Whereas ego is a transitive awareness, meaning that it is an awareness that is always aware of objects, the one real awareness that we actually are, namely the pure awareness “I am”, is intransitive awareness, because it is never aware of anything other than itself. However, though we can understand by carefully considering our experience of ourself in each of our three states, waking, dream and sleep, that what we actually are is not this body, mind or ego but only the fundamental awareness “I am”, we do not thereby cease to be aware of ourself as if we were this ego, which is what now experiences itself as “I am this body”, because our understanding is merely conceptual. Since ego is a mistaken awareness of ourself, being an awareness of ourself as something other than what we actually are, it can be eradicated only by correct awareness of ourself, so in order to be free of ego we need to be aware of ourself as we actually are. 6 Our Aim Is Not Manōlaya But Manōnāśa So long as we are aware of anything other than ourself, we seem to be ego, because it is only in the view of ourself as ego that other things seem to exist. Therefore in order to be aware of ourself as we actually are we must cease to be aware of anything else, but merely ceasing to be aware of other things is not sufficient, because we cease to be aware of anything else every day when we fall asleep, but ego is not thereby annihilated. Sleep is just a state of manōlaya, a “temporary dissolution of ego and mind”, because ego and mind rise again when we wake up from sleep or begin to dream. Therefore ceasing to be aware of other things is necessary but not sufficient. Not only must we cease to be aware of any other thing, but we must also be aware of ourself as we actually are, as Bhagavan implies in verse 16 of Upadēśa Undiyār:

8 Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 Leaving external phenomena, the mind knowing its own form of light is alone real awareness. [3] What he means here by “leaving external phenomena” (Ta. “veḷi viḍayaṅgaḷai viṭṭu”) is ceasing to be aware of anything other than ourself, and what he means by “the mind knowing its own form of light” (Ta. “maṉam taṉ oḷi-uru ōrdal”) is the mind knowing its own “form” or real nature (Sa. svarūpa), which is the light of pure awareness that shines eternally as our very being, “I am”. Moreover, the verbal noun ōrdal means not only “knowing” but also “investigating”, so in this context it implies knowing our “form of light” (Ta. oḷiuru) by investigating it, and we can investigate it only by being keenly self-attentive, carefully observing this light of awareness, which shines as “I am”, to see what it actually is. Knowing ourself thus as the light of pure awareness without knowing anything else is alone “real awareness” (Ta. uṇmai uṇarcci). In order to be aware of ourself as we actually are, namely as the light of pure awareness, we need to be keenly self-attentive. When we fall asleep, we thereby cease to be aware of anything other than ourself, but we fall asleep due to tiredness, not due to being keenly self-attentive, so ego is not thereby eradicated. Only when we attend to ourself so keenly that we thereby cease to be aware of anything else will ego be eradicated, because only by being so keenly self-attentive will we as ego be aware of ourself as pure awareness, namely awareness that is aware of nothing other than itself, and as soon as we are aware of ourself as such, we will thereby cease to be ego and remain eternally as pure awareness, which is what we always actually are. Dissolution of mind, which entails dissolution of ego, since ego is the root and essence of the mind, is of two kinds, namely manōlaya and manōnāśa, and the difference between these two kinds of dissolution is that manōlaya is temporary whereas manōnāśa (Sa. “annihilation of mind”) is permanent, as Bhagavan points out in verse 13 of Upadēśa Undiyār: Dissolution is two: laya and nāśa. What is dissolved in laya will rise. If its form dies, it will not rise. [4] What exists and shines in sleep or in any other state of manōlaya (Sa. “temporary dissolution of mind”) is only ourself as pure awareness, but ego is not thereby eradicated, because it is only after the dissolution of ego in manōlaya that pure awareness alone remains. That is, since ego has ceased to exist in manōlaya, albeit only temporarily, it cannot be annihilated by the pure awareness that then remains alone. In order to be annihilated, ego must itself experience itself as pure awareness, so it can be annihilated only in waking and dream and not in sleep or any other state of manōlaya. Whereas in the case of manōlaya ego is first dissolved and then as a result of its dissolution pure awareness alone remains, in the case of manōnāśa ego is dissolved as a result of its being aware of itself as pure awareness. That is, since ego is the adjunct-conflated and therefore impure awareness that always knows itself as “I am this body” and consequently knows the appearance of other things, and since (just as the sole reality underlying the false appearance of what seems to be a snake is just a rope) the sole reality underlying the false appearance of ego is just the adjunct-free and therefore pure awareness that always knows itself as just “I am” and consequently never knows anything other than itself, as soon as ego is aware of itself as pure awareness, it will thereby cease to be ego and remain eternally as pure awareness. Therefore what is called the “eradication of ego” or “annihilation of mind” (Sa. manōnāśa) is just the clear recognition that no such thing as ego or mind has ever actually existed, because what seemed to be ego or mind was actually just pure awareness, just as what seemed to be a snake was actually just a rope, as Bhagavan points out in verse 17 of Upadēśa Undiyār: When one investigates the form of the mind without forgetting, there is not anything called ‘mind’. This is the direct path for everyone whomsoever. [5] Since the snake that a rope is mistaken to be does not actually exist, in the sense that it is not actually a snake but only a rope, it cannot be “killed” or “annihilated” by any means other than looking at it carefully enough to see that it is not a snake but just a rope. Likewise, since ego does not actually exist, in the sense that what seems to be ego or mind is actually only pure “being-awareness” (Sa. sat-cit), it cannot be “killed” or “annihilated” by any means other than its attending to itself keenly enough to see that it is not any such thing as “ego” or “mind” but just pure awareness of being, “I am”. Therefore, after distinguishing manōlaya from manōnāśa in verse 13 of Upadēśa Undiyār, in verse 14 he points out that though manōlaya can be achieved by the yōga practice of “breath-restraint” (Sa. prāṇāyāma), manōnāśa can be achieved only by “self-investigation” (Sa. ātma-vicāra):

Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 9 Michael James Only when one sends the mind, which will be restrained when one restrains the breath, on the investigating path will its form perish. [6] This is also implied and further clarified by him in the eighth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?: For the mind to cease, except investigation [Sa. vicāraṇā] there are no other adequate means. If made to cease by other means, the mind remaining as if it had ceased, will again rise up. Even by breath-restraint [Sa. prāṇāyāma] the mind will cease; however, so long as the breath [Sa. prāṇa] remains subsided mind will also remain subsided, and when the breath emerges it will also emerge and wander about under the sway of its inclinations [Sa. vāsanās] … Therefore prāṇāyāma is just an aid to restrain the mind, but will not bring about manōnāśa. [7] Two key verbs that Bhagavan uses in this passage are aḍaṅgu, which means both “subside” and “cease”, and aḍakku, which is the causative of aḍaṅgu and hence means “to cause to subside or cease”, so it is generally used in the sense of “subdue”, “curb”, “restrain” or “constrain”. Since subsidence can be either partial or complete, and since complete subsidence or cessation can be either temporary or permanent, whenever either aḍaṅgu or aḍakku are used, we need to understand from the context whether they are referring to either partial or complete subsidence, and if they are referring to complete subsidence, which means cessation, whether that cessation is temporary or permanent. Temporary cessation of mind is called manōlaya, whereas permanent cessation of it is called manōnāśa. In the first sentence, “For the mind to cease, except investigation there are no other adequate means” (Ta. “maṉam aḍaṅguvadaṟku vicāraṇaiyai-t tavira vēṟu tahunda upāyaṅgaḷ-illai”), “for the mind to cease” (Ta. “maṉam aḍaṅguvadaṟku”) implies for the mind to cease permanently, or in other words, for it to subside in such a way that it never rises again, whereas in the subsequent sentences (in which aḍaṅgu occurs four more times and aḍakku occurs twice) aḍaṅgu is used in the sense of “subsiding” or “ceasing temporarily” and aḍakku is likewise used in the sense of “restraining” or “causing to subside or cease temporarily”. In the first sentence of this passage, “for the mind to cease, except investigation there are no other adequate means”, “investigation” (Sa. vicāraṇā) implies “self-investigation” (Sa. ātma-vicāraṇā), and the fact that there are no adequate means to make the mind cease except self-investigation is also emphasised by him in the first sentence of the sixth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?: “Only by the investigation who am I will the mind cease” [8], in which he likewise uses the verb aḍaṅgu in the sense of ceasing permanently. Just as we cannot see that what seems to be a snake is actually just a rope unless we look at it carefully enough, we cannot see that we, who now seem to be ego or mind, are actually just pure awareness unless we investigate what we actually are by attending to ourself keenly enough. In other words, since ego is a false awareness of ourself, being an awareness that knows itself as “I am this body” and that consequently knows the seeming existence of other things, it cannot be eradicated by any means other than our being aware of ourself as we actually are, namely as pure “being-awareness” (Sa. sat-cit), which alone is what actually exists and which is therefore never aware of anything other than itself. And we cannot be aware of ourself as we actually are by attending to anything other than ourself, but only by attending to ourself so keenly that we thereby cease to be aware of anything else whatsoever. 7 The Nature of Ego The very nature of ourself as pure being-awareness is just to be as we actually are without ever rising to know anything other than ourself, whereas the very nature of ourself as ego is to rise to know other things. Therefore as ego our nature is to always attend to things other than ourself, because we cannot rise or stand as ego without attending to other things, as Bhagavan points out in verse 25 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu: Grasping form it comes into existence; grasping form it stands; grasping and feeding on form it grows abundantly; leaving form, it grasps form. If sought, it will take flight. The formless demon ego. Investigate. [9] The penultimate sentence, “the formless demon ego” (Ta. “uru-v-aṯṟa pēy ahandai”), implies that what is described in the previous five sentences is the very nature of ego, which is a formless demon or phantom. Here “form” (Ta. uru) means not just physical forms but anything that can be distinguished in any way from any other thing, so phenomena of all kinds are forms in this sense. Ego is formless because it has no form of its own, so in its formless state it has no separate existence, meaning that it is nothing other than pure awareness, and hence it seems to have a separate existence only because it identifies itself as the form of a body consisting of five sheaths. This is therefore the first form it grasps, and without grasping such a form it could not rise or stand (that is, it could not come into existence or endure),

10 Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 so in the first two sentences of this verse, “grasping form it comes into existence; grasping form it stands” (Ta. “uru paṯṟi uṇḍām; uru paṯṟi niṟkum”), the form referred to is the form of a body. Having grasped the form of a body as “I am this body”, ego then grows and flourishes abundantly by grasping and feeding on other forms. Whereas it grasps a body by being aware of itself as “I am this body”, it grasps other forms by being aware of them as “I know these things”, in which “know” means to be aware of by any means whatsoever, such as seeing, hearing, perceiving, experiencing, remembering, inferring, understanding, believing and so on. Since it cannot stand or endure for a moment without grasping forms in this way, if it leaves one form, it simultaneously grasps another form. Grasping forms or phenomena is therefore the very nature of ego, and only when it subsides and dissolves back into sleep or any other state of manōlaya (Sa. “temporary dissolution of mind”) does it cease grasping anything. Instead of grasping any form, if ego tries to grasp itself, it will begin to lose its hold on other things and thereby subside, and if it grasps itself firmly enough (that is, if it attends to itself so keenly that it thereby ceases to be aware of anything else whatsoever), it will dissolve back into its source and substance (namely the pure awareness “I am”) in such a way that it will never rise again, as Bhagavan implies in this verse by saying “if sought, it will take flight” (Ta. “tēḍiṉāl ōṭṭam piḍikkum”). Thus in this verse he reveals the profound and all-important truth that the nature of ego is to rise, stand and flourish by attending to anything other than itself (namely any form, object or phenomenon), but to subside and eventually dissolve forever back into its source by attending to itself alone. This is why “self-investigation” (Sa. ātma-vicāra), which is the simple practice of attending to nothing other than our own being, “I am”, is the only means by which ego can be eradicated. That is, ego will be annihilated only when it experiences itself as pure awareness (awareness that is aware of nothing other than itself), so when we as ego attend to ourself so keenly that we thereby cease to be aware of anything other than ourself, we will thereby experience ourself as pure awareness, and thus we will cease to be ego and will remain forever as pure awareness, which is what we always actually are, even when we seem to be ego. This is the state of manōnāśa (Sa. “annihilation or permanent dissolution of mind”), which is what is otherwise called mukti (Sa. “liberation”). 8 Can We Not Achieve Manōnāśa by Bhakti? As we have seen above, Bhagavan taught that manōnāśa cannot be achieved by “breath-restraint” (Sa. prāṇāyāma), which is the central practice of aṣṭāṅga yōga (Sa. “eightlimbed yoga”), but only by “self-investigation” (Sa. ātmavicāra), but what about bhakti (Sa. “love” or “devotion”)? Can we not achieve manōnāśa by bhakti? Yes, we can, but does that mean then that bhakti is an alternative means to self-investigation? Though this may superficially seem to be the case, it is not so, because bhakti in its deepest sense is alone what motivates us to investigate ourself deeply enough to see what we actually are and thereby eradicate ego. To understand why this is so, we need to consider what bhakti actually is. Bhakti means “love” or “devotion”, so there are different forms and different degrees of bhakti. People are generally considered to be “devotees” (Sa. bhaktas) of God if they worship him, pray to him, sing in praise of him, repeat his name or meditate upon him, but most people who do so do so because of what they believe they can gain from God. That is, they do so because they want God to fulfil their desires (not only for things in this world but also for happiness in whatever world or state they believe they will be in after death) and to remove their difficulties. Even if they pray for the welfare of others, they do so because they desire their welfare, believing that it will make them (the one who is praying) happy. Worshipping him in this way for what we hope to gain from him is not true love for God but love for what we can get from him. We thereby make God a means to an end rather than an end in himself. True bhakti or love for God begins, therefore, when we cease wanting anything from him and instead love him for his own sake. Worshipping him by mind, speech or body for the sake of anything we want to gain from him is called kāmya bhakti (Sa. “desirous devotion”), whereas doing so for his own sake without desire for anything else is called niṣkāmya bhakti (Sa. “desireless devotion”), which alone is genuine bhakti. Just as kāmya bhakti is expressed by the devotee through actions of mind, speech or body, in the early stages of niṣkāmya bhakti the devotee likewise expresses their love for God through actions of mind, speech or body. However, since liberation is a state of just being and not doing, it cannot be attained by any “action” (Sa. karma), as Bhagavan says in verse 2 of Upadēśa Undiyār:

Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 11 Michael James The fruit of action perishing, as seed causes to fall in the ocean of action. It is not giving liberation. [10] Action is finite, so its fruit is likewise finite. Therefore, just as a fruit such as a mango ceases to exist when it is eaten, the fruit of any action will perish when it is experienced, so liberation, which is infinite and eternal, cannot be the fruit of any action. The seeds that cause us to fall in the ocean of perpetual action are viṣaya-vāsanās, “inclinations” (Sa. vāsanās) to experience “objects” or “phenomena” (Sa. viṣayas), because it is under the sway of such vāsanās that we do actions by mind, speech and body, and the more we allow ourself to be swayed by any particular vāsanā, the stronger it will become, and hence the more we will be inclined to be swayed by it. “Action” (Sa. karma) is therefore self-perpetuating, so it cannot be a means to liberation. However, if we do action without desire for any fruit but just for the love of God, our mind will thereby be purified, and the purified mind will then be able to recognise that the means to liberation is not doing but just being, as Bhagavan implies in verse 3 of Upadēśa Undiyār: Desireless action [Sa. niṣkāmya karma] done for God, purifying the mind, it will show the path to liberation. [11] It is generally said that there are four paths that lead towards liberation, namely karma, bhakti, yōga and jñāna, in which karma means the path of “desireless action” (Sa. niṣkāmya karma), bhakti means the path of “love” or “devotion”, yōga means primarily the classical “eight limbs of yoga” (aṣṭāṅga yōga) taught by Patanjali in his Yōga Sūtra, though more generally it can also include other similar paths such as various forms of Buddhist meditation and tantra practices, and jñāna (Sa. “knowledge” or “awareness”) means the path of “self-investigation” (Sa. ātma-vicāra), which is the direct means to attain ātma-jñāna (“self-knowledge”, meaning “awareness of ourself as we actually are”). As Bhagavan implies in this and subsequent verses, niṣkāmya karma is not actually a separate path but the preliminary practices of the path of bhakti, because it is only by doing actions for the love of God that we can do them without desire for their fruits. Moreover, though karma, bhakti, yōga and jñāna are all said to be paths to liberation, the only direct path to liberation is the twin path of bhakti and jñāna, whereas karma and yōga are tributaries that lead to this main river of bhakti and jñāna and thereby indirectly to liberation. In this verse the adjectival clause “done for God” (Ta. karuttaṉukku ākkum) implies “done for the love of God”, and “desireless action” (Sa. niṣkāmya karma) means actions done without any desire for their fruits. Such actions done for the love of God will purify the mind, but what purifies the mind is not the actions themselves but the love and desirelessness with which they are done, because the same actions could be done with desire for their fruits instead of for the love of God, in which case they would not purify the mind. What are the impurities in the mind that will be removed by desireless actions done for the love of God? They are viṣaya-vāsanās (Sa. “inclinations to seek happiness in viṣayas: objects or phenomena”), which are the seeds that sprout in the form of likes, dislikes, desires, attachments and so on, under whose sway we do kāmya karmas (Sa. “actions done with desire for their fruits”), thereby being immersed ever deeper in the great ocean of self-perpetuating action. To the extent that we do actions without desire to experience any viṣayas (Sa. “objects” or “phenomena”) but only for the love of God, our viṣaya-vāsanās (and consequently our likes, dislikes, desires, attachments and so on, which sprout from them) will thereby be weakened, and thus our mind will gradually become purer and clearer. Since viṣaya-vāsanās are the dense fog that clouds our mind, thereby obscuring the clear light of pure awareness that is ever shining deep within us, when our mind is purified by the gradual thinning and dispersal of this dense fog, our inner vision will thereby become clearer, enabling us to recognise that liberation cannot be achieved by doing any “actions” (Sa. karmas) but only by surrendering ourself, the doer of actions, entirely to God, which means sinking back within and dissolving in God, the light of pure awareness, “I am”, which is the source from which we have risen. This is what Bhagavan implies in this verse by saying “it will show the path to liberation” (Ta. “aḵdu gati vaṙi kāṇbikkum”). The instruments by which we do actions are mind, speech and body, so actions done by these three instruments are the three types of niṣkāmya karma that we can do for the love of God, as Bhagavan points out in verse 4 of Upadēśa Undiyār: This is certain: pūjā, japa and dhyāna are actions of body, speech and mind. One than one is superior. [12] Pūjā means “worship”, but in this context it does not mean just ritualistic worship but any “desireless action” (Sa. niṣkāmya karma) done by body for the love of God. Japa means “repetition”, namely repetition of a name of God, a prayer or a mantra (a “sacred syllable”, “word” or “group of words”, in this context one of a devotional nature). And

12 Spirituality Studies 10-1 Spring 2024 dhyāna means “meditation” or “contemplation”, in this context implying meditation on a name or form of God. The final sentence of this verse, “One than one is superior” (Ta. “uyarvu āhum oṉḏṟil oṉḏṟu”), implies that in this order each is superior to the previous one, so japa is superior to pūjā, and dhyāna is superior to japa. In this context “superior” (Ta. uyarvu) implies more efficacious in purifying the mind. That is, since niṣkāmya pūjā, japa and dhyāna are means to focus and thereby strengthen our love for God, and since meditation is a more effective way to focus our mind on God than japa, and japa is more effective than pūjā, meditation done with love for God is more purifying than japa, and japa is more purifying than pūjā. In the next three verses, 5 to 7, he discusses pūjā, japa and dhyāna each in turn, saying in verse 7 that uninterrupted meditation is superior to interrupted meditation. 9 Being as We Actually Are Is Supreme Devotion to God However, the most crucial verse in this series is verse 8 of Upadēśa Undiyār, in which he says: Rather than anya-bhāva, ananya-bhāva, in which he is I, certainly is the best among all. [13] Anya means “other” and ananya means “not other”, so in this context anya-bhāva means “meditation on God as other than oneself”, whereas ananya-bhāva means “meditation on him as not other than oneself”. The adjectival clause “in which he is I” (Ta. “avaṉ aham āhum”) implies “in which God is understood to be nothing other than I”, thereby clarifying and emphasising the meaning of ananya-bhāva, so “otherless meditation in which he is I” (Ta. “avaṉ aham āhum aṉaṉiya-bhāvam”) implies meditating on nothing other than oneself, “I”, with the firm conviction that God alone is what exists and shines as “I”. In other words, ananya-bhāva is an alternative description of “self-investigation” (Sa. ātma-vicāra), which is the simple practice of attending to or meditating upon nothing other than oneself, and this, says Bhagavan, is “the best among all” (Ta. “aṉaittiṉ-um uttamam”), thereby implying that it is best among all practices of bhakti, best among all kinds of meditation, and best among all means to purify the mind. Whereas meditating on anything other than ourself is an “action” (Sa. karma), a mental activity, because it entails a movement of our mind or attention away from ourself towards something else, meditating on nothing other than oneself is not a karma or mental activity but a cessation of all mental activity, because it entails no movement of our mind or attention away from ourself, and because to the extent to which our attention is focused on ourself alone, we, the meditating ego or mind, will thereby subside and eventually dissolve forever in our own being, “I am”. Therefore the result of meditating on nothing other than ourself is that, by the strength of such meditation, we will subside and remain firmly fixed in our natural state of just being, which transcends all mental activity, as Bhagavan points out in verse 9 of Upadēśa Undiyār: By the strength of meditation, being in the state of being [Sa. sat-bhāva], which transcends meditation [Sa. bhāvanā], alone is the true state of supreme devotion [Sa. para-bhakti tattva]. [14] In this context “by the strength of meditation” (Ta. bhāva balattiṉāl) implies “by the strength of ananya-bhāva”, or in other words, “by the strength of self-attentiveness”, because bhāva refers here to ananya-bhāva (Sa. “meditation on what is not other”, meaning “meditation on ourself alone”), which in the previous verse was said to be “the best among all” (Ta. “aṉaittiṉ-um uttamam”). To the extent to which we attend to nothing other than ourself, we as ego will thereby subside and dissolve back into our natural “state of being” (Sa. sat-bhāva), so by the strength, firmness or intensity of such self-attentiveness we will be in sat-bhāva, which transcends all mental activity, because in this context bhāvanā (Sa. “meditation”) implies meditation in the sense of mental activity. Being in sat-bhāva (Sa. the “state of being”) in this way is para-bhakti tattva, the tattva (Sa. the “very nature”, “reality”, “true state” or “thatness”) of para-bhakti (Sa. “supreme devotion”), because this is the state of complete self-surrender, in which we as ego have subsided and lost ourself entirely in our own being, which is God himself. The “actions” (Sa. karmas) of niṣkāmya pūjā, japa and dhyāna that Bhagavan discussed in verses 3 to 7 are all preliminary practices of bhakti, which must sooner or later lead us to the more advanced practice of ananya-bhāva, meditation on nothing other than ourself alone, with the firm conviction that God alone is what exists and shines as our own being, “I am”, because it is only by the strength of such ananya-bhāva that we as ego will subside and be firmly established in our real “state of being” (Sa. sat-bhāva), thereby losing our separate individuality and being inseparably and eternally one with God.

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