Ashtavakra chapter 1

Only a Godless mind will be petty

यदि देहं पृथक् कृत्य चिति विश्राम्य तिष्ठसि ।

अधुनैव सुखी शान्तो बन्धमुक्तो भविष्यसि ॥

yadi dehaṃ pṛthakkṛtya citi viśrāmya tiṣṭhasi

adhunaiva sukhī śānto bandhamukto bhaviṣyasi

If you detach yourself from the body and abide in consciousness, you will at once be happy, peaceful and free from bondage.

~ Chapter 1, Verse 4

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Questioner (Q): How to not be body-identified?

Acharya Prashant (AP): We remember the body all the time. We remember so many other things all the time. Thoughts of the world occupy the mind all the time. Memory is active all the time. And all these need to be remembered because something important has been forgotten.

The sense of self needs identification. The sense of self needs to find out what it is, who it is. After all, you do exist, right? You do exist. If you do exist, you ought to be somebody, something, some entity. And if you forget who you are, then you will need to hold on to something else. You’re required to constantly clutch something else, latch on to something else because you can’t be identityless—that is impossible. To be identityless is to say I don't exist. If you do exist, you must be something, right? Who are you? Who am I? Who are you? Because you do not remember That, because you do not identify with That, so you need to identify with miscellaneous things; you need to identify with the world; you need to identify with the senses, with the material, and with the body.

Body-identification is in itself not a problem, just a symptom. Don't focus too much on this. Don't say that how to not be body-identified. Especially for a woman, these questions in themselves are not very meaningful. Why are you asking how to not be body-identified? Why? Are you sure you are not the body?

See, if I am saying, "Please, tell me the right way," then, first of all, I must be sure that I’m moving on the wrong way. Are you sure you are moving on the wrong way? When you are not sure that you are moving on the wrong way, why do you ask these questions? First of all, there must be at least an inkling that my way is not right. First of all, there must be at least a glimpse that I'm not what I think myself to be, that I identify so closely with the body, yet there is something wrong somewhere; probably, I'm not the body. Do you have at least that glimpse? If you have that, only then this question becomes meaningful. Otherwise, it doesn't stand anywhere.

The Real must call. Only then the unreal will show up as unreal.

Is the Real calling? Can you hear Him calling? Is your real identity beckoning you? Only when your real identity is calling you do you earn the right to say that why am I body-identified. Is something real really descending upon you? And if it is not descending, then you'll need to satisfy yourself with this and that, all kinds of small, petty matters; you'll need to remain engaged, identified.

I’m repeating: The question is not why am I so involved with the small, with the ephemeral. What can you do? That is your compulsion. After all, you need an identity. After all, the mind needs to be somewhere, and if it's not in the center, the poor thing will inevitably need to be at the periphery. So, why are you asking, "Why am I at the periphery?" The periphery is the center for you; that's why you are at the periphery!

The one who is really at the periphery, does he ever say that this is the periphery? No. For him, the periphery is the center.

The one who is deeply body-identified, does he say that the body is a mere illusion? No. For him, the body is the ultimate Truth.

When the Truth really shines, only then there is an urge to move beyond the little into the vast—and then body-identification drops by itself. Then you won't even talk about the body. Then you won't say, "Why am I body-identified?" because then the body becomes irrelevant; it is not even a question worth raising.

You raise a question only when something is occurring to you, right? Even to ask a question, the question must first be present in the mind. When something becomes irrelevant, then it is not even present in the mind. Only when the body is important for you will you say, "Why am I body-identified?" And why is the body important? Because something else that must be very important is not important to you—you are ignoring that.

That is the real question. “Sir, why am I ignoring that which is really important?”

You know, when the throne is kept vacant, then all kinds of loafers and drunkards and undeserving people, they try their luck. The king is missing, so anything can just go and fit there and claim a right to the throne. That is the question you must ask: "Why have I distanced myself from the king?" When the king will come back to reclaim his throne, then all these shady creatures will vanish. The very radiance of the king will make them disappear; they are gone. Where? Nowhere! Who remembers them?

And then, when it is raining, raining hard, who wants to remember his little cup of water? It's pouring, it's pouring—it's always pouring. Why are you sitting in the shade? When you'll be sitting in the shade, then you'll need that little cup of water; you'll need to be identified with it. And you’re constantly asking, "Sir, why do I need to cling to this little bowl?" You are clinging to that little bowl because you are protecting yourself in the shade.

Go out in the open. The heavens have opened themselves up; it's a downpour. And then you will not even ask a question about that little cup; then you will not even ask, "Why am I body-identified?" That question has disappeared; it has become irrelevant. "Where is the body? I don't remember the body. I don't remember the body! Where is the body?" The body exists only as long as it is important for you. Otherwise, it loses its relevance; there is no relevance!

The central thing is, why have you protected yourself? And it's the same thing. I keep on saying it through different metaphors. Last week, we said that the sun is out—why are you hiding in a cave? Today, I'm saying it's pouring—why have you protected yourself in some shelter? And there you are having that little cup: "Oh, this is the kind of water that I have.” Obviously, sitting in that shelter, you will need to protect your cup because you have distanced yourself from the rain. The rain is there—but what to do with your shelter?

Your great cleverness! All the teaching and upbringing and conditioning that the world is a bad place, rains are dangerous—who knows, maybe it is acid rain. "So, beta (son), please hide in some shelter. The clever woman is the one who builds a nest for herself!” So, you have built some nest and you are hiding there. Now, how will you experience the rain?

All our littleness arises from our distance from the immense. The more is your distance from that immensity, the more petty you will be.

Whenever you meet a petty mind, a mind that is occupied with all the little trivial matters, know one thing for sure: this man is totally devoid of spirituality, this is a godless man. Only a godless man will be petty, and all petty men are essentially godless because vastness comes only with the vast, vastness comes only in proximity with the vast.

Become identified with the Total, and your identification with the partial shall stop. You need some identity. Give yourself the most total identity possible. That is the reason why we have said Ahaṃ Brahmāsmi (I am Brahman). That is the most total identity that can be given to you.

Now, after saying Ahaṃ Brahmāsmi, there is no point in saying Ahaṃ dehāsmi (I am the body). When I'm the total, what is the point in saying that I am the partial? It's not that I am not the partial, remember this. Ahaṃ Brahmāsmi does not mean that I am no more the body; it means I'm much more than the body. It's not a question of saying I'm no more the body; it's a question of saying I'm much more than the body. For that, there needs to be an immensity, there needs to be a movement away from littleness, from your confinement, from your pettiness, from your boundaries, from all the divisions that thought creates in the mind.

So, as the expanse of your mind increases, you will find you are becoming less and less body-identified. It can only happen indirectly. You cannot directly attack your body-identification. You must rather work on the mind and its tendency to avoid the immense, the mind and its tendency to seek protection and security.

The more you will move into insecurity, the more you will find that your association with the body is diminishing. The more you will challenge your fears, the more you will find that your association with the body is reducing. And that will require Faith. Without Faith, you cannot face fear.

The body will remain; its position will change. The relative importance that you give to it, that will change. Today, it is your priority number one. When you will know what really is number one, then the body will no more remain your priority number one.

Move into That. Ignore the body, forget the body. Move into That, and then you will no longer need to ask this question. As we said, it will become irrelevant.

Q: How to face fear?

AP: Every fear rests on an assumption. Every fear is a complete image, a complete imagined sequence in time. This will happen, then this will happen, then this will happen. It's like a movie. "If I do this, then this will happen, then this will happen." That is what fear is, right? A complete sequence spread out in space and time. Test it a little. Test whether your assumptions are valid at all.

Q: Is it a kind of a surety?

AP: It's a surety. Your fears arise from your own assumptions, from who you are because it's you who has created that mental sequence. Test, test! And if the assumption proves misplaced, then that has a bearing on your entire sense of who you are because your assumption comes from who you are. If the assumption is wrong, it proves your being is wrong. So, test your fears. You will find your assumptions are wrong.

Ultimately, you know what is wrong with each of your stories? You have all these stories in your head, right? "If I do this, then this will happen and this will happen," right? Every fear is a story. Do you know what is common in each of these stories? What is common in each of these stories? "I will lose something." That is the end of each of these stories, right? If the fear is a story, then that story consists of events. This event, this event, this event, this event, this event. This will happen, then this will happen, then this will happen, then this will happen, then this will happen…

What is the final scene of each of these sequences? "I'm losing something." That's where you are wrong. That's where each of these stories is a false story. Each of your stories is a false story. Each of your fears is a false fear. Test it. You are never losing anything. That's why I said your fears arise from your sense of who you are. Because you do not know who you are, because your assumptions regarding yourself are wrong, that is why each of these stories is wrong. In the end, you'll always find—well, yes, to the extent that I said that this will happen, this will happen, this might sometimes be factual, this might actually happen sometimes, but the last scene is always wrong.

Even if everything happens as per my intuition, the last scene is wrong. The last scene says, "I've lost something." I’ve never lost anything—never lost anything. I'm not saying that the events that you are suspecting will happen, will not happen. I'm not saying that what you are fearing will happen, will not happen. What I am saying is, even if what you are fearing will happen, actually happens, yet it will not diminish you. Your fear is not that something bad will happen; your fear is that you will stand diminished. Your fear is that you will lose something. That is your real fear, right?

A thousand things happen, and if they do not impact you, you'll not be afraid, correct? You are not afraid that something bad will happen to somebody else; you are afraid of the impact it will have upon you. Am I right? If you know very well that come what may, let the world collapse, it will have no impact upon me, will you still be afraid of the world? Is it the world that terrifies you or is it your own vulnerability? Your own vulnerability. Once you discover that I'm not vulnerable at all, I do not stand to lose anything, then what is the point in fearing? That's why I am saying test your fear. See that even if the world collapses around you, you'll still be alright.

Q: You just said that the last scene won't be true even when every other scene is. But as my ego is attached to something and that makes me fear more, I am not able to reach the last stage because somewhere I hold on to something. How will I come to know that the last scene won't be true?

AP: See, you will require, if not Faith, then at least deep trust. You'll require that. And it's a progressive thing. Once you see that I didn't lose much this time, then you are prompted to dive again, like in the rivers that we go to. Once you see that it was alright to take a small dive—oh, I didn't lose anything! Yes, the sequence went exactly as it was in my head. Yes, I dived, I went in. Yes, it felt bad for those two-three seconds. Yes, everything went blank for a while, but I surfaced again and I didn't really lose anything—then what are you tempted to do the next time? You are then emboldened to take a deeper dive, and a deeper dive.

But the first dive would require that, you know, there is somebody around who says, "Fine. Go in, go in, go in! Nothing will happen." So, some trust is needed. You need somebody whom you can trust. "Fine. Even if something happens, I'm close by." Even if that person actually knows nothing and does nothing, his only qualification is that he can inspire trust, even that is sufficient because nobody is anyway ever going to sink. So, trust is enough.

When I was learning to ride bicycle, there was this fellow who would help me, and he would be behind me saying, "I'm holding you; keep moving the pedals!" It was after long that I discovered that after setting me to go, he would simply disappear. He would coolly rest under a tree, and I'm assuming that he is behind and I'm pedaling. So, it's enough. The fellow might actually not know how to ride a bicycle himself but that's irrelevant. You had a trust deficit, he filled it up. Enough.

But test it! Test it! Let the worst that you can imagine, let that happen!

Oh, that's too much to ask for…

(Laughter)

Let a little bit of the bad happen and see whether it is actually that kind of a catastrophe that you imagined it to be. It is not, it is not! You are greatly ignorant of your own strength. If there is one thing that we are so oblivious of it is how strong we are. You have it in you to face all these things. But in imagination, they appear magnified. “What will happen if I lose this?” Nothing will happen. And in spite of all your efforts, when you actually lose, what happens? What happens? Does anything happen?

Q: No.

AP: But when you keep imagining, it is like the end of the world. If it has to happen, let it happen. We'll face it. If it happens, we'll face it! Why keep shivering and shuddering?

You're stronger than you know yourself to be—much more stronger than that. How can strength get awakened when your very assumption is that you are weak? Answer this.

So, you'll have to challenge that assumption in order to find out how strong you are. But if you keep providing nutrition to that assumption, then…

Shelters are nutrition to weakness. The more shelters you give to yourself, the more you will be identified with your weaknesses.