VII: 3

[Krishna Jaya]

Chapter 7, Verse 3

 

“Who cares to seek

For this wholeness and freedom?

One, perhaps, in many thousands.

Of those who strive

At any one time,

Perhaps one or two

Know me in truth.”

 

Sri Krishna Prem:

 

“It is desirable to dwell for a moment on the extreme rarity of this wisdom.  The vast majority of people know nothing of its existence, and though a few, by strenuous effort, have succeeded in establishing themselves upon the path that leads to it, yet, at any given time, only one or two gain it in its fullness.  This is not said in order to depress students, but in order to keep them humble now that they are on this path. 

 

What is this wondrous wisdom that is now to be described?  It is the knowledge of Krishna, the undying Atman, the stainless Eternal Being that lies behind all change.  This is to be born in mind in all that follows, for though there are many who worship Krishna, there are only a few who know his essential Being. 

 

Who or what Krishna in essence is will be set forth in this and succeeding chapters.  Here, more than ever, must the student beware of words.  The description that will be given is useless if interpreted by the intellect alone, and its words are but a shining curtain through which the student must pass.”

 

Paramahansa Yogananda:

 

“The precious state of God-realization is very difficult to attain, because in average people the searchlights of the five senses are turned towards the perception of material objects and not inward towards God.  A person’s life-wave, no matter how far projected away, still exists as a part of the cosmic sea.  Sooner or later it will yield to the divine pull and return to the cosmic ocean home from which it sprang forth.  When the life-wave becomes accustomed, through bad habits, to staying away from the calm depth of the cosmic ocean, it is reluctant to return there. 

 

This verse points out that most people use their free will to choose to give in to the storms of the outward-seeking mind.  Out of many thousands, perhaps only one desires to re-enter the divine ocean.  Even that one, obstructed by past conditioning, cannot easily merge into the freedom of the joyful sea.  Out of these many seekers, one or two, here and there, will succeed in overcoming the outward thrust to plunge headlong with faith and devotion into the divine deeps.   What a paradox that in spite of so much suffering and misery only one among thousands is shrewd enough to seek God.  Among such true seekers, perhaps only one or two will cultivate the tenacity to neutralize the effects of binding Karma and thus experience wholeness and freedom, once and for all.

 

Many sincere students do not force themselves to seek him with ever-increasing intensity in meditation, nor are they persistent in their search for him.  That is why they have only meager, fleeting inspirations and do not realize him continuously.  However, a persevering student, in spite of much bad Karma and the temptations of cosmic delusion, will certainly rest in unbroken unity with God by and by.”

 

Sri Eknath Easwaran:

 

“Meditation is dull, hard work.  To continue to practice meditation day in and day out requires a real depth of commitment.  With infinite tenderness, the Lord lets it dawn on us only gradually that we are not separate, that we belong entirely to him.  If this realization were to come overnight, it would be more than the nervous system could bear.  That is why the Lord is so gentle with us.  He spreads the transformation from separateness to unity out over a long time so that all these changes in the mind and body can take place gradually, often at such a deep level that we are not even aware that they are taking place at all until we look back and remember how we used to be.

 

I like to illustrate the gradual ascent to unity with a journey by train and bus to my home high on the Blue Mountain in south India.  In the old days, when I was a professor in Central India, I used to count the days until summer vacation when I could leave the crowded city and the hot, dusty air of the plains behind me.  On the same evening of my last working day I would be on the train for Madras to catch a bus to the Blue Mountain.  It was a long, hot, twenty-four hour train ride, leading up to a most satisfying moment when I could see the Blue Mountain beckoning on the horizon.

 

Even though there are just fifty more miles to go, the journey is far from over.  For a long time, the bus painstakingly makes its way along the twenty-five mile road to the foot of the mountain, a dull, dreary time with nothing to recommend it except that it has to be put behind you.  The real climb has yet to begin.  Then, as the bus starts to climb, the scenery changes, and the road becomes beautiful.  First you see the nut palms, swaying gracefully in the wind, and then the dense forests of the foothills, full of wild animals such as tigers and elephants.  Then, when you reach three thousand feet, there are terraced tea gardens, dotted with silver fir trees whose leaves sparkle in the sun.  There was a particular point where I used to feel the cool, invigorating air of the mountains.  It was almost as if I could draw a line where that change would occur.  The hot, dry, dusty air of the plains would suddenly leave us, and my whole body and mind would drink in the cool, bracing air of the mountains.

 

It is very much like that on the path of meditation.  For a long, long time you are on level ground.  You are traveling forward, but it’s still on level ground; the air is still dry and dusty, and you get occasional gas fumes.  But all this time, though you may not think that you are getting anywhere, you are building up crucial momentum for the climb ahead.  It is only after you have been very diligent about your meditation, after you have been loyal in keeping your eyes always on the prize and very resolute in the practice of the allied disciplines of spiritual living that the scenery will begin to change.  But change it most surely will, and these changes will be reflected in every aspect of your daily life.  It is a sure sign that you are entering the foothills and beginning to leave the plains behind.  For example, at work you might find that you are getting along with someone who always seemed to specialize in rubbing you the wrong way.

 

At home you may be calm and true to your convictions, but as you walk slowly up the driveway to your parents’ home, your security may begin to waver.  Then the door opens and the head of the household greets you with, ‘What’s this I hear about meditation?’  All security vanishes.  You become either apologetic or defensive, perhaps stating your case too vehemently, and you find yourself in a very difficult position.  But as you begin to gain security, you will be able to answer gently but firmly, ‘Yes, I’m trying to live a spiritual life, and I think it will benefit all of you, too.’  They may never have heard of The Bhagavad Gita.  They may give an embarrassed cough and say, ‘That’s not the life for us,’ but they will begin to respect your efforts.  After a while, when they see that you can be secure in the face of opposition and ridicule and that you can be true to your convictions while retaining a sense of humor, their critical remarks will change.  ‘I never thought he had this in him,’ your father will tell your mother.  Your mother may even begin to tell her friends, ‘We might be able to take a leaf from her book.’

 

During the first half of the ascent, we have to travel under our own power.  We have to make all the decisions ourselves.  We have to strengthen our will and turn our backs on all sorts of temptations.  It is only after this first part of the climb has been accomplished, after we have prepared ourselves, that we find the air becoming fresh and exhilarating.  Then, slowly, during the second half of the ascent, we begin to realize that there is an inner power not our own which is drawing us forward.  It is almost like reaching five thousand feet and then looking down from a narrow path to see how awesome the precipice is; one slip could plunge us to disaster.  It makes us understand how miraculously we have been protected by the Lord all along the path.  And though we can see the sheer, rocky peaks rising above us, we come to have a quiet faith that the same grace that has brought us this far will give us the support and inspiration we need for making the most difficult, most dangerous part of the climb which lies ahead.

 

Finally, at the very end of the spiritual ascent, we will reach a point beyond which we cannot go by our own effort.  Though we must do everything we can to purify ourselves completely, the great mystics tell us, it is not possible for a human being to be finally united with the Lord once and for all by any amount of willing.  It is up to the Lord to draw us to him when he chooses.  Finally, the auspicious moment of union comes.  It is as if a lamp is lit in a temple which has been dark for so long.  Every nook and cranny becomes ablaze with light.”