The following is an extract from my recently published book, Four Basic Practices: Vedānta’s Sādhana-Catuṣṭaya. It is available both as a paperback and an e-book.
The Four Basic Practices remain with me from beginning to end—they determine my fitness to start the spiritual journey, they support me through my struggles, they stay with me until I attain freedom. They become my friends, my protectors, my guides. How long the struggle will be, what ups and downs I’ll encounter, how I’ll face the challenges along the way—all of these things are determined by the quality of my Four Basic Practices. Spiritual life is nothing but a continual effort to improve the quality of my practice. The more proficient I become in the Four Basic Practices, the quicker is my progress.
Yoga is what happens naturally when we start practicing the Four Basic Practices. But there is no need to agonize over which yoga I should practice or which yoga is right for me. I am better off simply trying to do the Four Basic Practices as best I can in a way that comes naturally to me. Whatever forms my practices take—and whichever yoga-label is attached to them—what I should be mindful about is that I am earnest, ready to put in the hard work, and willing to learn from my mistakes. The real value in spiritual life is the inner transformation it can bring about in me. Is my life being regularly updated and upgraded like a good software? Am I becoming a better version of myself day after day? Am I serious about eliminating my weaknesses? Am I getting closer to God?—this is what matters. Everything else is a waste of time and energy.
When I continue the practice with faith and dedication, patience and perseverance, results are bound to come. My spiritual fitness increases, the practice deepens, and I can feel a certain lightness of being. For a long time the Four Basic Practices may have been what I did, but they have the power to change now to who I am. If I must look for miracles, then the transformation from doing to being is certainly one that deserves attention. Although breathing is an activity every one of us is engaged in from the moment we are born, it is not what we think of as something we have to do. Most of the time we just do it without even being aware that we are doing it. It is so much a part of us that we simply are creatures who breathe, not creatures who have to do breathing. We want the same thing to happen to each of the Four Basic Practices.
The transformation from doing to being is a common feature in the pursuit of any art. When I begin learning to play a musical instrument, I have to be mindful of every little detail and do everything very methodically. Most of my attention is on the process and the effort to do everything correctly. After much practice, when the muscle memory is built, I am able to do things without any effort, almost instinctively. It is only then that I become free to express myself fully and unreservedly. The best musical pieces don’t emerge when a musician is “making” music. The outstanding pieces are born when the musician’s ego gets out of the way and creativity flows unobstructed. Doing is relatively easy, what is tough is simply being.
Living spiritually is one of the most refined arts of all time. In the beginning, there is a lot of doing—books to read, thoughts to think, and things to do. There is a lot to be mindful about, such as my thoughts, my words, my actions and reactions, my relationships, my attitudes. All of this can be daunting and intimidating. What keeps me on track is faith in myself and in my ideal, my determination to never give up, the awareness that there is a higher power at work, and the never-failing hope that grace will descend any moment—and it indeed does when I patiently persevere with the practice. When that happens, there is a clear shift from doing to being.
I may discover one day that I no longer need to practice discernment, because it has become my default state of being. Every thought I think, every word I speak, every action I do is effortlessly funneled through discernment. There is no longer any need to practice non-attachment, because it has become so much a part of my nature that I cannot get trapped in attachments even if I tried. The mind and the senses become restrained on their own, withdrawing spontaneously when needed, the way a tortoise retracts in its shell (Gita, 2. 58). If the mind and the senses do manage to break free on a rare occasion, something within is able to pull them back quickly. I may stop shuddering when faced with difficult dilemmas, unsolvable situations, or nasty people; forbearance becomes my second nature, infusing all pain with a meaning that neutralizes suffering. The mind becomes so disciplined that, wherever it is directed, it is able to achieve concentration with ease. Deep faith fills my entire being and becomes the measure of who I really am (Gita 17. 3). Intense longing for freedom never really leaves the heart even when I am engaged in my daily activities. How amazing it will be when all of this happens to me!
A story from Buddha’s life comes to mind. As his teachings spread and monasteries sprung up everywhere in the Indian subcontinent, rules were created to train the novices. Buddha continued to abide by those rules to the last detail even with a frail body in his old age. His immediate disciples said to him, “Venerable Teacher, you made these rules to instill discipline in the young monks. You don’t need to follow these rules since you are already enlightened.” Hearing this, Buddha smiled and told his disciples, “When I was young, I observed all of these rules for years. They have become an inseparable part of my life. I no longer follow them. It is they who follow me.” That is exactly what happens when doing is transformed into being.
When I move from doing to being, I don’t need to do the practices because they have become who I am. Just as breathing happens on its own, my Four Basic Practices get done on their own. That is the sign that I am close to perfection. The bridge from mediocrity to magnificence is crossed. The Four Basic Practices take me to the threshold that separates the relative from the absolute.
What should I do after that? Nothing beyond “hearing” the teaching and turning my gaze toward the east. The sun is already rising above the horizon and there is Light—inside, outside, everywhere.
Finally I am awake. I am free.
I am home.
from Vedanta Blog - Vedanta Society https://ift.tt/DPJNMgh
