Since the last few months we are focusing on Vedanta’s four basic practices (sādhana-catuṣṭaya). Longing for freedom (mumukṣutva) is traditionally listed as the fourth practice, but it should really top the list. After all, unless there is longing for spiritual freedom (mokṣa), why would anyone take the trouble to do any spiritual practice? There is an ancient saying, prayojanaṁ anuddiśya na mando’pi pravartate, “Even a fool doesn’t do anything without a motive.”
The longing for freedom provides the reason, the motivation, the purpose which makes all Vedanta practices meaningful. In order to want freedom, we should first of all recognize that presently we are not free. The need for freedom won’t make any sense if we don’t feel our bondage or if we feel that we are already free. Śaṅkarācārya’s definition of the longing for freedom points to both the nature of the bondage and the way to freedom.
अहंकारादिदेहान्तान् बन्धानज्ञानकल्पितान् । स्वस्वरूपावबोधेन भोक्तुमिच्छा मुमुक्षुता ॥
Ahaṁkārādi-dehāntān bandhān ajñāna-kalpitān,
Sva-svarūpa-avabodhena bhoktum icchā mumukṣutā.
“The longing for freedom is the desire to be free from the bondage of ignorance—meaning, the body and the ego, etc.—by knowing one’s own true nature.” (Vivekacūḍāmaṇi, 27)
If we are honest, we can easily see how little we know about anything. My knowledge about “things” may vary, but what about my knowledge about myself? I probably feel I already know who I am, but what if I am wrong? I am wrong about many things in life. This could be one of them. It is possible that I am not who I think I am. My ignorance about myself shows up through “the body and the ego, etc.”
According to Vedanta, my true nature is pure and perfect. I am infinite, eternal and free. Obviously that is not how I see myself—and that is because of my ignorance. It looks like I am in the grip of a strange kind of amnesia. I have no idea how or why this happened. I am told that the forgetfulness of my true identity has made it possible for me to project a false perception of me as a human being with a body.
Besides my body, which is visible to me and to others, there is also a part of me which is subtle and hidden from the world. That is “the ego, etc” part, which is called the “inner instrument” (antaḥkaraṇa). Depending on its multiple functions, it is variously characterized as the ego (ahaṁkāra), the intellect (buddhi), the mind (manas), the storehouse (citta) of thoughts, memories and tendencies. The inner instrument is popularly known as simply the mind, which makes it logical and easy to see the body as the outer instrument. Both these “instruments”—body and mind—are so dominant that they manage to hide my true self under their wings.
All of my complications in life spring from, or are associated with, these instruments, inner and outer. I live my life looking at the body and mind as if they are me. That’s my identity now. I am a human being. All problems are tied to the body or the mind. Even the problems of the world become my problems only to the extent they affect either my body or my mind. When I’m not aware of my body and mind, as in deep sleep, my problems seem to disappear, only to magically resurface when I wake up. Moreover, the problems keep mushrooming; they never seem to end. Death might seem to be a way out, alas it isn’t, because death simply means my present body is replaced by another equally troublesome body.
Through discernment I realize that the only way to get out of this hopeless situation is to permanently discard my problematic identities. I need to look carefully and learn. When I look out, I see the world but I don’t see myself. I do see my body and I can feel my mind. But they are not the real me either. Since the outside is not too helpful, I need to look within—deep inside, beyond my thoughts and emotions. That is the only way now to discover myself and to reclaim my original identity. The intense desire to be my true self—pure and perfect, eternal and free—and to fling away all of my false identities is known as “longing for freedom” (mumukṣutva).
Propelled by such longing, when people practice discernment (viveka), non-attachment (vairāgya) and the “six treasures” (ṣaṭ-sampatti), they are able to regain their true identity and become free. What powers their practice is their longing. We see therefore how essential longing is and we know that it works! Sri Ramakrishna’s word for intense longing was vyākulatā.
How does the longing for spiritual freedom manifest in life? In several different ways, but also with different degrees of intensity. There is the mild form of longing which manifests occasionally but also subsides quickly. It is the kind of longing that makes people visit places of worship now and then, celebrate a few festivals, and even do some basic rituals on special occasions. This sort of longing doesn’t last long. It brings a little satisfaction, perhaps eliminates some guilt, but people return to being their usual secular selves without any real inner transformation.
On the other extreme is the intense form of longing, whose level of intensity has been compared to a person’s desperate rush toward water when the head is on fire (dīptaśirā jalarāśim iva) (Vedānta-Sāra, 30). Or we can compare it to a suffocating person’s struggle to breathe. Sri Ramakrishna narrated this story:
“One feels restless for God when one’s soul longs for his vision. The guru said to the disciple, ‘Come with me. I shall show you what kind of longing will enable you to see God.’ Saying this, he took the disciple to a pond and pressed his head under the water. After a few moments he released the disciple and asked, ‘How did you feel?’ The disciple answered: ‘Oh, I felt as if I were dying! I was longing for a breath of air.’” (Gospel, 497)
That’s the kind of intense longing needed for success in spiritual life. Only when we are really thirsty will we leave no stone unturned to quench our thirst. Listen to these strong words of Swami Vivekananda:
“Until you have that thirst, that desire, you cannot get religion, however you may struggle with your intellect, or your books, or your forms. Until that thirst is awakened in you, you are no better than any atheist; only the atheist is sincere, and you are not.” (CW 2. 44-45)
Most of us do have the thirst but probably not enough of it. We lie somewhere on the scale that connects the mild to the intense forms of longing. We slide toward mild longing, perhaps even toward no longing, when we are not mindful and allow nature to manage the course of our life. But when we live purposefully, with discernment and care, then the intensity of our longing increases. The more intense it gets, the more we realize the urgency of our quest. There is no time to be lost and no effort to be wasted. Then we, so to speak, begin firing on all cylinders.
The intensity in longing for freedom assumes a measure of impatience to be free. How do we level that with the frequent advice we are given to be patient in life? How can patience and impatience coexist? For a spiritual seeker it means to be patient with people and things in the world but impatient about one’s spiritual progress. These two can and should coexist. There are forces in the world over which we have little control. All that any of us can do is to try our best and let things take their own course, watching the outcome with patience, because there really is no alternative other than feeling upset or frustrated when things don’t turn out the way we want them to. But the impatience with our present progress in spiritual life is what propels us to strive harder.
How can longing be “practiced”? What are the things I need to do? First, I need to remain alert about the nature and extent of my present bondage. I have got to remind myself as often as possible that my bondage is not going disappear on its own. Secondly, I need to always keep the hour of death before my mind, knowing that it can come anytime and making sure that my priorities are right. Finally, I need to intensify my efforts, be it through prayer, japa, meditation, study or selfless service, which will help loosen the bonds that tie me to my egocentric existence and connect me to my true nature—which is what will bring me the real freedom that I seek.
Sooner or later, we all get what we long for. Wisdom lies in longing for the right thing and getting it in the right way. What could be better than longing for freedom in the truest sense of the term?
from Vedanta Blog - Vedanta Society https://ift.tt/UuclGO6