Emerson wanted individuals to become “Man thinking” rather than “Mere thinkers, or still worse the parrot of other men’s thinking.” He wanted his fellow countrymen to investigate their minds and to study the mind of the past through literature. By 1845 he had read Gita. In his Journal he writes,

I owed–my friend and I owed—a magnificent day to the Bhagavat Geeta. It was the first of books; it was as if an empire spoke to us, nothing small or unworthy, but large, serene, consistent, the voice of an old intelligence, which in another age and climate had pondered and thus disposed of the same questions, which exercise us.

In his essays his ideas about this worldly multiplicity and transcendental oneness echo the teachings of the Gita. He had read and mulled over its seminal concepts. In his essay “The Over-Soul” he writes,

(W)ithin man is the soul of the whole; the wise silence; the universal beauty, to which every part and particle is equally related, the eternal ONE. And this deep power in which we exist and whose beatitude is all accessible to us, is not only self-sufficing and perfect in every hour, but the act of seeing and the thing seen, the seer and the spectacle, the subject and the object, are one. We see the world piece by piece, as the sun, the moon, the animal, the tree; but the whole, of which these are shining parts, is the soul.

Emerson found novel teachings of the Gita useful in his daily life. The teachings such as ‘work must be done without thought of reward’ and ‘an individual may have a tranquil mind even in activity.’

Thoreau was a great admirer of Emerson. He seems to have read the Gita when he was in his early twenties. At the age of 28 he wrote that a reader of the Gita is nowhere else “raised into and sustained in a bigger, purer, or rare region of thought” than while reading the Gita. The scripture’s “sanity and sublimity have impressed the minds…” of people from all walks of life.

Thoreau had the Gita with him during his stay by Walden Pond. In Walden (1854) he writes,

In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagavat Geeta, since whose composition years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seems puny and trivial.

Barbara Stoler Millar, the American Sanskrit scholar, in her translation of the Bhagavad Gita (1986) argues that Thoreau was clearly impressed by the Gita’s critique of inaction but was reluctant to accept the morality of the argument that Arjuna must “go to war against his kinsmen-enemies because war is his duty as a warrior and because death is inevitable.” For Thoreau, she writes, the scripture did appear to justify violence.

Miller, however, goes on to say that the Gita is not a justification of war, nor does it propound a war-making mystique. The book teaches that even in most unspiritual circumstances one can act with pure intentions and be guided by one’s Self.

What the Gita says is that death is inevitable, our work is sacred and we must not renounce the world but infuse our daily life with spiritual wisdom. We must develop an ability to carry through our daily affairs with spiritual understanding because Self, our inner consciousness, leads towards goodness never towards selfish interests.

Thoreau discussed the teachings of the Gita in artistic terms. In Walden he writes that spiritual discipline is like artist’s total involvement in creating an artwork. A creative mind finds liberation from time when he is in a state of one pointed concentration like a dedicated worshipper. When one is striving after perfection the time stands still.

Mahatma Gandhi became first acquainted with the Gita in 1888 and followed its teachings for the rest of his life. He understood that concealed behind the Gita’s warfare is the perpetual conflict that goes on in the hearts and minds of all people. He understood that to have one pointed dedication to Krishna is to realize one’s Self within. He understood that “deeper you dive into it (Gita), the richer the meanings you get.” He writes,

When doubts haunt me, when disappointments stare me in the face, and when I see not one ray of light on the horizon, I turn to the Bhagavad Gita and find a verse to comfort me; and I immediately begin to smile in the midst of overwhelming sorrow. My life has been full of tragedies and if they have not left any visible and indelible effect on me, I owe it to the teachings of the Bhagavad Gita. (“The Message of the Gita”)

The readers of the Gita may extract any meaning, they like, from it. Once the meaning of its central teaching is understood the readers may apply it to make their daily lives joyous. They may experience perennial joy that is beyond intellectual understanding. The joy that comes from understanding the Gita is reserved only for those who live fullness of faith with an undivided singleness of mind.

The Northland Public Library is sponsoring my twelve-session workshop “Writing as a Spiritual Journey.”

Through personal experience I know that the process of turning traumatic events and intense emotions into words and sentences has healing power. In this workshop you will turn your thoughts and feelings into words that would have beneficial affects.

For the first few sessions you will write down your experiences. You’ll jot and you’ll scribble and you will dig deeper within yourselves. From your heart-minds you will drag onto a notebook emotions that are difficult to talk about or too painful to discuss and are dormant in the basement of your mind. This technique will lighten your heart and clarify you mind.

For the next six sessions or so during the process of rewriting and revising you’ll be charged with creative energy that will define your writing style. In addition, it will help you empty your mind of emotional baggage you have been carrying for years.

The practice of journaling that you are expected to do every single day will help you hone your writing into art. By the twelfth session, a year of journaling, writing, rewriting and revising would not only have a healing affect on you but it will also open a door for each participant’s individual spiritual journey.

The workshop will meet the first Thursday of every month at 7:00 at the Northland Public Library, 300 Cumberland Road, Pittsburgh, PA 15237.

For questions please call Jane Jubb, Adult Program Coordinator: (412) 366-8100

See you on May 6!
Dr. Madhu B. Wangu

One of the “hidden” teachings of the Gita that has affected me deeply is that the “Great Man” (God) without is, what Carl G. Jung calls, the Self within—the organizing source of our psychic system. And I realize that with pure intention I too would be able to make link with my “inner companion” and ultimately with the God within, (Atman).

In the beginning chapters of the Gita, Arjuna is a virtuous man and an intellectual. He is well versed in scriptures, has esthetic tastes and is highly skilled in weaponry. And is well acquainted with the phenomenal world. For the first time in his life the young warrior is facing a major crisis. He is shocked to encounter an imperfect world and wants to do what is right. He seeks for meaning in his life so that he can deal with the chaos within that the situation has stimulated. The painful shock of seeing his kith and kin as his enemies awakens within him his “inner companion” in the form of Krishna.

A few chapters into the Gita, Arjuna rises above the dualities of worldly life, as he understood them. He ceases to question the bloodshed, selfishness, deceit and massacre. It is as if the battlefield is moonlit. Things are blurred and merge into one another. Arjuna is confused and passive. The critical mind in him is vanquished. He does not know where anything is or where things begin or end. What can drive away this evil? He does not know. Nothing helps. He must face the darkness around him. Courage is the only thing he has. At this point, Krishna, the “inner companion” catches the helplessly struggling ego of Arjuna in his net. Krishna advises him to turn directly toward the approaching darkness without prejudice.

As Arjuna delves deeper within to seek answers he realizes that he must have total faith in his “inner companion” who at the deepest level of his being is his own Self, his Atman. Arjuna must find out the secret that lies behind the present situation and some potential spiritual lesson it has to teach.

His Self offers Arjuna painful realizations. Krishna tells Arjuna his human flaws and makes him swallow all sorts of bitter truths. He is forced to listen to the reproaches of this inner judge. From a questioning intellectual he is converted to a believer. Then begins the lengthy work of his self-education.

By chapter seven the dialogue of the Gita becomes discursive and its vocabulary metaphysical. Krishna, Arjuna’s Self, shows him the terrible visions of the divine. He ceases to be a mere “inner companion” and becomes the organizing source of Arjuna’s whole psychic system. Krishna becomes what Jung calls the “Great Man,” the voice of unconscious, the revelations of Christ and Krishna—authoritative, fearful and awesome.
Arjuna must obey the demands of the unconscious at the expense of his normal understanding and sensibility. He is unable to do just as he pleases. His inner self forces him to drastically change his attitudes towards what he is facing. He carefully listens to his inner voice in the form of the charioteer Krishna. Now, finding the meaning of life becomes more important to Arjuna than any thing else.

All the scriptures of the major world religions have different levels of meanings as has the Gita. This sacred text can be understood at several levels. One level is purely literal, another metaphorical and the third psychical. Different people understand the same sacred text utterly differently. For instance, the great missionary of peace and non-violence Mahatma Gandhi was as much a devotee of the Gita as was his killer, Nathuram Godse.
On the literal level the battlefield setting is unspiritual but on the deeper level, behind the dramatic setting of the battlefield, as Mahatma Gandhi argues is “the duel that perpetually goes on in the hearts of mankind.”

The Gita’s attempts to reconcile and refine different currents of thought result in inconsistencies, contradictions and repetition at several places. Furthermore, its spiritual message is not as straightforward as are the teachings of Tao Te-Ching or Dhammapada. So far, the Gita is the least gender-generous. The book was meant to counsel priests and warriors and does not speak directly to women, lower caste Hindus or non-believers.
I do realize, however, that the text was written by men in a patriarchal society. This fact does not take away its essence that points to the ultimate truth, the Self deep within all of us. It goes without saying that its spiritual teaching can be received by any gender.

The dialogue takes place on a battlefield. The war that is about to begin is between two sets of cousins: five sons of Pandu, Pandavas and one hundred sons of Dhritarashtra, Kauravas. Their two teachers are Bhishma and Drona. While Bhishma is revered for his spiritual power, Drona is a priest and the master of archery. Out of the five Pandava brothers Drona’s favorite student is Arjuna, although all brothers excel in warrior skills and virtue.

The Kauravas are jealous of the Pandavas. The Kauravas’ eldest brother, Duryodhana covets the throne, which legitimately belongs to Yudhishthira, the eldest Pandava brother.

In a game of dice Yudhishthira loses his kingdom to Duryodhana. Thus Yudhishthira along with Arjuna and three other brothers are forced into thirteen years of exile.

After thirteen years when Pandavas return to the capital, Duryodhana refuses to give up the throne and step aside. This results in a full-fledged war between the cousins. The war lasts for eighteen days and ends with the victory of the Pandavas over Kauravas—order triumphs over chaos.

First few chapters of the Gita focus on the battle. Then the text shifts to Arjuna’s inner conflict. When Arjuna faces his own kinsmen, it paralyses him. On the one hand he does not want to kill the members of his extended family and on the other he must fulfill his responsibility as a warrior. He feels dejected and wants Krishna to dispel his uncertainty. Finding Arjuna in a spiritual abyss Krishna counsels him. As the reading progresses, Krishna’s authoritative voice diminishes Arjuna’s questioning and warrior confidence and increases his faith and devotion. Krishna gradually unfolds his terrible divine glory until the warrior prince sees himself in the divine.

Krishna enlarges Arjuna’s awareness beyond personal and social values that he holds sacred. He argues that Arjuna’s pity is nothing but weakness; that it is individual’s duty to rise from detachment and see the larger cosmic order. Krishna’s argument makes Arjuna recognize why he must fight.

The dialogue links daily acts with spiritual discipline. Krishna claims that individual freedom does not lay in renouncing the action but in disciplined action. He advises (and this is the core of the Gita’s teaching) that all action must be performed without attachment to its fruit. All work must be done in devotion to God. The devotion resolves the delusional conflict between the worldly life of duties and the spiritual life of detachment.

Krishna is aware of his friend’s spiritual conflict and guides him to a path of resolution. He teaches him how to discipline his emotions and actions. He draws Arjuna into a universe beyond the world of everyday experience. At the same time he forces him back to wage the battle of life. On the one hand he advocates the life of action, discipline and moral duty and on the other he teaches him to transcend his warrior experience in search of spiritual freedom.

Krishna does not condone physical violence but identifies the real enemy as desire of fruit of action due to attachment. In one chapter, he redefines the battlefield as the human body—the material realm in which one struggles to know oneself. The real war is going on within. He says that the real enemy is the attachment for the fruit of action that can only be overcome by transcending the narrow limits of selfish desire. The book is the dramatic journey of Arjuna’s self-realization.

What we think, say or do have consequences. Sooner or later they come back to us. It may take years before we see the results of our thoughts, words and actions but they do come back–both good and bad. What we are today is the result of the choices we have made.

1. Observing Life’s Impermanence
The First Noble Truth, as taught by the Buddha, is that life is suffering, it is impermanent. Happiness and sorrow follow one another like shadow follows the body. The aim of human life is not so much the worldly happiness but the end of all suffering.

We suffer because we thirst (in Sanskrit, trishna) for possessions, people and places. We constantly try to satisfy our cravings. It is fine to satisfy good desires but we must be beware of selfish desires and greed. Because when one craving is fulfilled another replaces it. Thus the cycle goes on and on. We are never satiated. Satisfying cravings is like fueling the fire of desire; more we feed it higher its flames. What are we supposed to do? We can choose to ignore the cravings. Yes, it is not easy. It is rather painful to ignore something that brings us happiness. But if we tell ourselves that this “happiness” is fleeting and ignore the cravings over and over again they will gradually and eventually dissipate. Only by NOT gratifying the desires can the thirst for things be quenched. We must understand that happiness cannot come from an outside source—from people or things. Genuine happiness is an internal state.

Deep within each one of us lays untapped source of great energy. But we are unable to dive into depths of subconscious and find it because we are busy gratifying our cravings. Once we dissipate our cravings we can access the source of energy through the Buddha’s Eightfold Path.

2. Deciding on a Path
Life is dreary for those who do not follow some spiritual path. Such people think they are already wise. However, they continue to remain ignorant but they do not notice it.

Walking a spiritual path is lonely with no immediate benefits. In order to eliminate our suffering, however, we must follow a path of our choice with an open mind. Dhammapada recommends the Buddha’s Eightfold Path.

Right View: is to follow the Eightfold Path.

Right Intent: Follow whatever path you choose single-mindedly. You may do thousand things each day but your chosen path should be constantly behind those thousand things.

Right Speech: Pay attention to the words you use. Don’t waste time in idle chatter, gossip, and insulting or abusive language.

Right Conduct: Do not kill, steal, cheat on your spouse, lie or drink intoxicants.

Right Livelihood: Your occupation must promote life, not destroy it. Earning a living is not life’s end but only its means.

Right Effort: Human will is significant. The longest strides do not take you the farthest, short steady steps, made in earnest, do.

Right Mindfulness: The Buddha credited human mind with having influence on our lives as no other teacher did. “All we are is the result of what we have thought.” Those who have disciplined their minds develop restful wakefulness and live orderly lives.

Right Concentration: The way to enlightenment is meditation. It regenerates the mind and helps the meditator to experience the world in a new way. Craving, hostility and delusion vanish. The mind reposes in its restive state, which is its true nature.

3. Making Choices
Throughout our lives we make choices. Some choices we make in such a hurry that we don’t even notice it. The world is filled with individuals who make hurried choices. They decide without taking a few moments to make their decision. Spend a minute to choose.Think before you decide to say or do something. Then make a choice you will not regret.

See the difference between a trivial choice and a vital decision keeping in mind that at times a trivial choice is as important as a vital one. Those who choose thoughtfully create a personal history of life well lived.

4. Being Wakeful
Being aware of our undesirable traits helps us eliminate them and reshape our character. This can be learnt by wakefulness.

Wakefulness is essential for making right choices that result in a well-lived life. Being vigilant about the things that matter is a powerful personal tool for shaping character. When we are vigilant our mind gains clarity. We come closer to our authentic selves.

Wise people are self-aware within and without. They listen, watch and think with clear minds. They are aware of themselves and their surroundings but they never meddle into other people’s lives. The wise can only point us towards the right direction. We must walk the path ourselves.

5. Anger
Anger, jealousy and delusion are powerful negative emotions. But the worst of the three is anger. When we are angry our normal feelings are replaced by hate. Patience and calm are the last things on our mind. In anger we follow our impulses and immediate responses that we won’t do if we are wakeful.

It is easier to get angry than try to control it. Angry mind is out of control. While we are angry, however, we feel in control. A few moments of anger make us feel good. Yet, after we have vented our pent up feelings we feel fragmented and hurt.

Become aware of this emotion before it takes over. Watch and guard it when it rises. As soon as you see, hear or think of something that makes you angry, do not react. Don’t let anger envelope you. Instead try to envelop it. Dissipate it by becoming aware of it, paying attention to it. Behaving in this manner helps you gain a state of mind that can handle the given situation sensibly. Such behavior has positive energy that can be used for spiritual growth.

6. Being Self-Reliant
The Buddha urged his followers to rely solely on their selves and seek no other support. He taught to plunge deep in meditation and see for our selves what we may discover within.

Beneath our constantly changing everyday life is a permanent ground of being that is unaffected by any change. This reality feels like dreaming. The vast majority of people are unaware of this inner reality. According to the Dhammapada we must remain wakeful to the reality of this world but at the same time attain an awareness of the inner reality. Trust it. It will guide us in good times as well as bad.

Unfortunately most of us are driven not with the reality within but with fear and guilt. We tend to seek reassurance from the world outside us. But when things do not stay the way we want them to, we are afraid. In this flowing river, we call life, everything changes, and no-thing is permanent. Therefore developing self-reliance, turning inward is a practical spiritual tool. The best refuge is within. This is the path to freedom from fear. The time will come when the power we think we have over others will be replaced with the inherent power we have within.

7. Preparing For the Final Journey
Whether we are in the spring, summer or fall of our lives it is never too late to ask, have I prepared for the final journey? Starting right now, we must begin to shape our behavior and eliminate the impurities of mind that taint our personality. The worst impurity of all is ignorance. Ignorance prevents us from seeing other flaws that eat us up from inside. The thought of old age and death instills fear in us long before the inevitable overtakes us. If we become aware of the fact that life is fleeting when we are younger, it would help us glide into the old age fearlessly.

No one can save us from death. In time, it is certain to arrive. It may seem odd but meditating on the inevitability of death lessens our fears and anxieties.

We avoid thinking about aging, death and the purpose of our lives until we get old. At that point it is too late. What a tragic waste! Another waste is to worry about afterlife. The Dhammapada teaches that heaven or hell are not located somewhere out there, some place where we may go after death depending on how we have lived. It is a mental state caused by the content of our own thoughts and actions.

8. Meditating
For the Buddha nothing was more important than meditation, nothing could replace its direct experience. Meditation helps us move beyond busyness of life and overcome our emotional turmoil. If we want to know who we really are we must make the stillness of meditation our daily practice.

In the early stages of meditation unfulfilled desires and wishes churn to the surface. We become aware of the traits that make up our personalities. Even when our conscious mind is filled with disturbing thoughts the unconscious is calm. In meditation we don’t force our mind to be still but try to experience the calm that is the nature of the unconscious mind.This calm is always available to us but only in meditation.

As we continue to sit silently we begin to wage battle inside that is upsetting. But with patience and persistence the rigid patterns of our behavior dissolve. The things that upset us begin to settle down. Our mind becomes calm, our actions simplify and our attitude towards life begins to change. Benevolent feelings surge that give rise to selfless behavior. Inner calm reflects outer serenity. Our body rests and mind is alert, yet calm. Eventually our well-targeted thoughts become our weapons of wisdom.

Experience inner silence and well being through meditation. A settled mind is like a deep and silent pool. This direct personal experience is more powerful than any moral code or social pressure. It reduces stress, decreases blood pressure and slows down breathing. Let’s take our spiritual growth into our hands because genuine happiness is within.

We have concluded reading the Buddhist text Dhammapada. Did you enjoy reading it as much as the Taoist text Tao Te-Ching? More? Less? Was any one chapter in particular your favorite?

Starting from January, 2010 I will post “Readings” from the Hindu scripture Bhagavad-Gita. The text recounts the tale of Arjuna, a prince. The setting is a battlefield. As a warrior it is Arjuna’s duty to fight. The epic war is about to begin. As Arjuna (with his four brothers and their armies) confronts the armies of his rival cousins he is faced with this moral dilemma, how can I kill my kith and kin? What is the meaning of war? What is its purpose? His duty conflicts with his thoughts. Then his charioteer, the god Krishna, intercedes. Through dialogue Krishna leads the warrior to a higher understanding of the spiritual nature of humans and the world. Their dialogue reveals the terrible beauty of the ultimate reality as the charioteer discloses it to the warrior.

Bhagavad-Gita has resonated through the ages with people around the world. It has inspired thinkers such as David Thoreau, T.S. Eliot, Thomas Merton and Mahatma Gandhi. In my commentary “As I Understand It” I would include their thoughts about the sacred text. I hope you’ll join me, as always, as we go through the eighteen chapters of the scripture.

And now a request. If you would like me to continue the website, Spirituality-Sparks.com, it is vital that I hear from more of you and more often. Do you find the pieces I post at “Home Page,” “Readings” and “Writings” enjoyable, informative or useful? If you do, then please ask questions, send comments and give suggestions. Ask your friends to browse through the site. Make sure that they subscribe to the site by filling in their email addresses at the bottom right of this page. I would be delighted to hear from you and them.

Wishing you a warm holiday season!
Madhu B. Wangu.

Since time immemorial mystics and ascetics have experienced sublime in silence. In silence they discovered mystery that was greater than them. When they sat with themselves they paid attention to themselves. Similarly, when we sit by ourselves regularly we become aware of ourselves. We realize how important it is that we cultivate our own being and get to know our true selves. As our genuine selves when we are alone and fully alert, within and without, we are one with the universe, with God.

In order to enjoy silence we need not go away to live in a cave in the Himalayas, or somewhere in Sahara desert or to a rain forest retreat. We can experience solitude in our homes: watching sunset from a kitchen window, gazing at a sunrise from a hilltop, lying in a hot aromatic bathtub, feeding a baby, in the dead of the night when the young ones are asleep, or when they leave home. Such stolen moments of time calm our clamoring thoughts.

To sit in silence is hard work. But once it becomes a practice it is hard to stop. It is almost addictive because it’s pleasurable in itself. It clears mental clutter, strips down anxious thoughts and increases focus. Creativity emerges from the depths of silence. To sit in silence is to nourish our mental and physical well being and to usher repose.

Being solitary is not nothingness, isolation is. The daily practice of sitting alone in tranquil surroundings gets rid of inhibitions, gives one an ability to act spontaneously, physical sensations heighten and emotions sensitize. We see more clearly. We talk and act without pretence, with sincerity and honesty. Silence instills in us the ability to transcend painful aspects of our lives.

What exercise does to the body; sitting in silence does to the mind. It fine-tunes our thinking. Silence is the melody of heaven. That’s why silence is sacred.

Several years ago if people asked me whether I belonged to a religion I wasn’t sure. I had to think. They had one. They were certain of it. But me, I had to think. After a few moments of pause I would mutter, “I’m a Hindu.” But that answer did not come from my heart, only my lips moved. Since then I have had time to think. Now, I know this: I do not belong to any religion; all religions belong to me. By ‘all’ I mean the ones I know well and the ones I have not yet closely studied.

Huston Smith, the American historian of world religions, writes that we shun from an organized religion because it is dogmatic (that my way is the only way to experience god), it is moralistic (that it tells its members exactly what is moral and what is not), and that it has all other problems that any institution has in which a group of people have to interact. These are the reasons why I too shun from calling myself a member of one religion.

In the twenty-first century it is highly likely that millions of individuals are not satisfied with the religion they were born into. The answers religions give to universal human questions: where do we come from, who are we, what is the meaning and purpose of our lives, where do we go does not satisfy the laity. No single religion, organized or otherwise, has answers to the all the eternal questions. But together they have. Together, the scriptures that contain centuries of introspections, meditations and experiences of teachers, sages and mystics have answers. The texts such as Dhammapada, Bhagavad-Gita, Tao te Ching, Analects, Guru Granth Sahib, Bible, Koran, Torah and other related texts bring to light the mystery of life. When we earnestly read the sacred words they inspire spiritual feelings worth experiencing. We just have to make an effort.

Reading the sacred texts of world religions open door to a new understanding. The reader/seeker begins to feel the answers. He becomes sensitive to the fact that such questions cannot be answered but their meanings can be felt. An unspeakable feeling stimulates the heart in which unknowable is known. Vision is clarified. A flame is lit. A feeling of tenderness for the “whole” or “one” emerges—a feeling that comes closest to what I mean by spirituality or religion.

In reading these sacred texts we are in the company of the wise—the sages who experienced the unknowable and did their best to share that feeling with us. We were meant to read these texts alone, in isolation, surrounded by silence, and not hear them diluted through the middlemen of the organized institutions.

To critically and carefully read the scriptures of religions other than our own may be called heretical by some. But one needs courage to do so. To cut against the grain. But it does not mean to walk away from our own tradition, if we happen to like the way. It means to study the path of the wise with different experiences. Why not be open-minded about beliefs different from our own? Why not hear what sages and teachers of other great religious traditions have taught? Being alone in the company of the wise is the greatest spiritual gift we can give to ourselves.

Centuries old method of studying the sacred texts is: carefully reading one chapter at a time, thinking about what has been read and then mulling over it to understand what it meant. For days, reflecting upon the ideas it conveyed so that the knowledge that is learnt informs day-to-day life. This is the method I try to follow in the weekly website postings under “Readings.”

Yes, not belonging to just one religious community gets lonely. Having beliefs that are not in synch with our religious community, isolates. But the flip side of this is that it forces us to be with ourselves, to know ourselves—who we really are. This is the time when our inner self, our true friend, lets us know what dross we are carrying around and how we can get rid of it, event by event, little by little, and become better, wiser, compassionate, generous human beings. Isn’t that the ultimate goal of all the religions?

If the religious community we belong to enriches and nurtures our beliefs, we should receive it as blessings from lady luck. Yet, we’ll be amazed how our attitude positively changes when we read the sacred texts of the world religions other than our own.

The Buddha proclaimed that if you cannot find a friend or family member to support your spiritual path, walk alone. Seek someone wise, who can teach you right from wrong. More importantly, don’t accept something merely because it is a tradition or out of blind faith, not even on the word of your teacher. Go and see for yourself.

So, tomorrow borrow from a library or a friend, or buy the sacred text of a religion other than your own. Read it with understanding and observe yourself becoming a better person.

Depending on what kind of person you are and what stage of life you are in, Hindus believe that your life parallels a day in your life. Morning, afternoon, evening and night:as are your days, so is your life. An ideal life, Hindus say, is hundred years and it passes through four phases, each a quarter of a century long.

Each phase has its demands and expects certain behavior. From the time you are born to the time you are in your mid twenties the focus of your life is being a student. Your primary responsibility is to get educated, to learn. At this stage your only obligation is to pay attention to what the teacher says or shows. Good study habits are to be cultivated. With the help of parents and teachers strong character has to be acquired. By the end of this period the graduate has good liberal education and beginner’s professional skills. The morning is over.

The afternoon, the second stage, is the time to take over the responsibilities of a householder. During this phase, men as well women are physically at their zenith. You are energetic and interested in achieving position and power and accumulating possessions—house, car, clothes and things. The life feels fulfilled through activities that are directed outwards: sexual pleasure, children, professional success and friendly social interactions. After spending years of life delighting in the senses, the novelty and surprise begin to lose their attraction. The life seems repetitive and stale.

The evening has arrived. It is time to move on to the third phase of life– retirement. Some get stuck at stage two. They never cross the threshold to phase three. By this time you have become a grandparent. You are ready to withdraw from the immediate familial and social obligations that you have so far shouldered. You have specialized and generously given to your family and society at large. But now you realize that life should not be over before you have understood it.

The time has come to go within, to ponder, and reflect upon the meaning of life, without interruptions. This is the time to know yourself. Who am I? The “I” that you have been so close to but had no time to really be with. This is the time to get to know this “I”. You mull over what your life is about. Why were you born? why did you study, excelled in your profession and created a loving family? You reminisce how you delved into pleasures of life, loved your wife and children. At times they got sick and you got sick. You had your share of happiness and sorrow. But you struggled long, only to die too soon. You read. You spend time with the wise, with the like-minded individuals to know what does it all mean?

All of us have this question at the back of our minds but only handful reflects upon it.

The fascinating challenge of life is to find life’s mystery and meaning. This is the phase when you get time to plunge into the solitude, to discover your real self. The retirement time is when you seek something more than yourself, beyond yourself. It is the phase to work out an answer for yourself and then weave that answer into your daily life. It is time to dwell with the reality that underlies the natural world—Te of the Tao or the “Self Within” as the Buddha teaches. You have experienced a lifetime of living. You have learnt to live with generosity, wisdom and compassion. Retirement is refirement of a life within. You want your mind to be peaceful and your heart pure.

The night of life has arrived, the last phase, the phase when you’d ultimately become a dream. According to the tradition time has come to leave the comforts of your home and go to live in a forest ashram. This is the time when you disengage with life’s ties. You neither hate nor love anyone or anything. Living in home is no longer required or is even attractive. If all the things have run smoothly you don’t want to be somebody anymore. You prefer anonymity.

At the forest ashram your body feels free and your feet are rooted. You are now a homeless mendicant who has not only shed his egotism but ego as well. At this stage the only desire the mendicant has to merge with the underlying reality, the Brahman.