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The Teachings of Bhagavan Ramana

Who am I?
Can we know the reality of anything we perceive without knowing the reality of ourself, the perceiver?
Which is more fundamental, transitive awareness or intransitive awareness?
Is happiness anything other than our own being?
Can we achieve permanent cessation of mental activity without achieving permanent cessation of ego?
How can we be aware of ourself as we actually are?
Self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) is ‘always keeping the mind on oneself’
As ego our nature is to subside and dissolve back into our being by attending to ourself
Being keenly self-attentive is not only self-investigation but also self-surrender
Who or what is God?
Being as we actually are without rising as ego is knowing ourself as we actually are
Investigating what ego actually is alone is giving up everything
To go deep in this practice of self-investigation we require wholehearted and all-consuming love
The love required to know and to be what we actually are sprouts and is nurtured in our heart by grace

1. Who am I?

Who am I? I know that I am, but do I know what I am? Am I what I now seem to be, or am I something distinct from this appearance? Now I seem to be a person, a physical body endowed with life, mind, intellect and will, but is this what I actually am? Am I just this set of phenomena, or am I something more fundamental? If I am not what I now seem to be, how can I find out what I actually am? How can I be aware of myself as I actually am?

Am I just a temporary appearance, as I now seem to be, or am I eternal? Am I finite, as I now seem to be, or am I infinite? Am I something that appears and disappears in time and space, or something in which time and space appear and disappear? Am I something that is permanent, or am I just something that appears and disappears? Or is there some sense in which I am permanent, and another sense in which I am something that appears and disappears? If so, which is real, the permanent ‘I’ or the ‘I’ that appears and disappears?

If I am something that appears and disappears, from what do I appear and into what do I disappear? From where or from what have I risen? Do I actually appear and disappear, or do I merely mistake myself to be something else that appears and disappears? The body, life, mind, intellect and will that I now seem to be do appear and disappear, but do I appear and disappear along with them, or do I exist independent of their appearance and disappearance? Whatever appears and disappears does so in my awareness, so is not my awareness something more fundamental than anything that appears and disappears in it? What is this awareness in which everything else appears and disappears? Is this awareness what I actually am? If so, how can I ascertain this? How can I distinguish myself from everything that appears and disappears in me? How can I know myself as I actually am?

2. Can we know the reality of anything we perceive without knowing the reality of ourself, the perceiver?

I am, and I am aware I am, but what about all the other things I am aware of? Many other things seem to exist, but do they actually exist? They seem to exist because they appear in my awareness, but do they have any existence or being outside of or independent of my awareness of them? Among all the other things that appear in my awareness, some seem to be aware, but are they actually aware? Is their awareness real, or is it just an illusory appearance? The only awareness I actually experience is the awareness that I am, the awareness that is myself, so does the awareness I see in others exist outside of or independent of my awareness of them? In other words, are the existence and awareness that I see in other things real or unreal? Is anything other than myself real?

What is real, and what is unreal? We perceive many things, which seem to be real, but are they actually real? Do they actually exist, or do they merely seem to exist? How can we distinguish what is real from what is unreal, what actually exists from what merely seems to exist? Are many things real, or is just one thing real? Manyness appears in waking and dream, but disappears in sleep, so is it real, or is it just an illusory appearance? We know that all the many things that appear in dream are unreal, so what justification do we have for supposing that any of the many things that appear in waking are real?

We take our present state to be the waking state, but how can we be sure that this is not just a dream? How can we be sure that any state in which we experience an appearance of manyness is not just a dream? Is there anything that we experience in our present state that we could not experience in a dream? What evidence do we have, therefore, that we are not now dreaming? What evidence could we ever have that we are not dreaming? Do we have any adequate reason, therefore, to suppose that this is not a dream? Are not all the essential features of our experience in this state also essential features of our experience in dream? Now we experience ourself as if we were a body endowed with life, mind, intellect and will, but do we not also experience ourself in exactly the same way in dream? Now we perceive a world of physical phenomena that seems to exist outside of and independent of ourself, but do we not also perceive such a world in dream? Now we assume that we are awake and therefore not dreaming, but do we not generally assume the same while we are dreaming?

If all this is just a dream, what justification do we have for supposing that manyness is ever real and not just a dream-like appearance? All the many things that appear in dream are just a mental fabrication, so why should we suppose that any appearance of manyness is not likewise just a mental fabrication? Do many things ever appear because they actually exist, or do they appear just because of a defect in our perception? Whenever we experience ourself as a body, as in waking and dream, we perceive an appearance of manyness, and whenever we do not experience ourself as a body, as in sleep, we do not perceive manyness, so do many things seem to exist only because we experience ourself as a body?

If so, is a body what we actually are? In our present state we experience ourself as this body, whereas in dream we experience ourself as some other body, so can either of these bodies be what we actually are? Now we are aware of ourself without being aware of any dream body, and in dream we are aware of ourself without being aware of this body, so can either of these bodies be ourself? Can we be anything without being aware of which we are still aware of ourself? Since we are aware of our being, ‘I am’, in both waking and dream, can we be a body that seems to exist in one of these two states but not in the other one? That is, if we are ever aware of one thing without being aware of another thing, does it not follow that those two things are not the same thing but separate things? Therefore, though this body now seems to be ourself, since we are sometimes aware of ourself without being aware of this body, does it not follow that this body is actually not ourself?

Presuming that many things appear because they actually exist, we try to understand their nature by looking outwards, studying, considering and investigating this world of manifold phenomena, but since this world could be just a mental fabrication, like any world we perceive in a dream, and since it appears only when we are aware of ourself as this body, which cannot be what we actually are, rather than investigating this appearance, should we not first investigate ourself, the one to whom all these many phenomena appear? Can we know the nature of anything that appears without knowing the nature of ourself, to whom it appears? Can we know the reality of anything we perceive without knowing the reality of ourself, the perceiver?

Does anything we perceive exist independent of our perception of it? We know that whatever we perceive in a dream does not exist independent of our perception of it, even though while dreaming it seems to us that the world we are then perceiving does exist independently, so if we can never know for certain that we are not now dreaming, what justification do we have for supposing that anything we perceive in our present state exists independent of our perception of it?

Nothing could appear or seem to exist without an awareness to which it appears, so which is more fundamental, whatever appears or the awareness to which it appears? Without something that is aware, could anything else be known? Other things seem to exist only because they appear in the view of something that is aware, so does anything exist independent of whatever is aware of it? We ourself are what is aware of the seeming existence of other things, so which is more fundamental, our own existence or the existence of other things? How then can we know the reality of anything else without first knowing the reality of ourself, the awareness to which all other things appear?

3. Which is more fundamental, transitive awareness or intransitive awareness?

We are aware of the appearance of other things in waking and dream, but not in sleep, so why is this? If anything other than ourself exists in sleep, why are we not aware of it? Do we cease to exist or cease to be aware in sleep? What we are not aware of in sleep is anything other than ourself, but does being unaware of anything else mean that we are not aware at all? Do we need to be aware of something other than ourself in order to be aware?

We cannot be aware of anything without being aware, but can we not be aware without being aware of anything? Does awareness depend upon objects of awareness, or do objects of awareness depend upon awareness? Which is more fundamental, awareness or objects that appear and disappear in it? Without awareness nothing could either appear or disappear in it, so is it not obvious that awareness is more fundamental than anything that appears and disappears in it? Why then should we suppose that awareness depends upon anything that appears and disappears in it?

Awareness of any objects or phenomena is transitive awareness, whereas awareness that is just aware without being aware of any objects or phenomena is intransitive awareness (which is what is also called pure awareness or pure consciousness), so which of these two forms of awareness is more fundamental? Since we cannot be aware of any phenomena without being aware, and since we can be aware without being aware of any phenomena, is it not clear that intransitive awareness is more fundamental than transitive awareness? Transitive awareness appears in waking and dream but disappears in sleep, whereas intransitive awareness exists and shines in all three states, so can we not reasonably infer that intransitive awareness (pure awareness) is real whereas transitive awareness is just a temporary appearance?

Since objects or phenomena seem to exist only in transitive awareness, and since transitive awareness appears and disappears on the ground (or foundation) that is intransitive awareness, is it not clear that the seeming existence of objects or phenomena depends upon transitive awareness, which in turn depends upon intransitive awareness? Though we seem to be transitively aware in waking and dream, in sleep we cease to be transitively aware, so is it not clear that transitive awareness is not our real nature? Whether we seem to be transitively aware, as in waking and dream, or not transitively aware, as in sleep, we are always aware, so is it not clear that intransitive awareness is our real nature (meaning that it is what we actually are)? In other words, is it not clear that intransitive awareness is our very being, whereas transitive awareness is just a temporary state of rising (or becoming), a state in which we seemingly rise as the subject that knows the appearance of objects or phenomena?

If pure intransitive awareness is what is most fundamental, if it is the ultimate ground on which transitive awareness and all other things appear and disappear, can we know the reality of either transitive awareness or anything else without knowing intransitive awareness as it actually is? And since intransitive awareness can never be an object of knowledge or awareness, can we know it without being it? But how can we be it unless it is what we always actually are? So if it is what we actually are, how can we know ourself permanently as such?

As long as we are aware of anything other than ourself, we are aware of ourself as transitive awareness, so if this transitive awareness is not what we actually are, being just a temporary appearance, how can we know ourself as we actually are except by ceasing to be aware of anything else? And how can we cease to be aware of anything else except by focusing our entire attention on ourself alone?

4. Is happiness anything other than our own being?

But what about happiness? Do we not want to be always happy? Does not our lack of perpetual and undiminishing happiness make us dissatisfied and drive us to constantly seek happiness or satisfaction in one way or another? And since happiness seems to be lacking in ourself, do we not naturally search for it in things other than ourself? Are we not therefore constantly seeking it outside ourself, in external phenomena? Do we not all generally believe that happiness and misery are caused to a greater or lesser extent by external circumstances? If external circumstances are favourable, we generally feel happy, and if they are unfavourable, we generally feel unhappy, so does being happy depend upon external circumstances?

But sometimes we may feel unhappy even when all our external circumstances are favourable, and at other times we may feel happy in spite of being in very unfavourable external circumstances, so does being happy depend upon our state of mind rather than external circumstances? To what extent it depends on external circumstances and to what extent it depends on our state of mind may vary, but are not both external circumstances and the mind along with its fluctuating states transitory phenomena experienced by us? Are they not therefore other than our being, other than what we actually are? So must being happy always depend on things other than ourself?

If being happy does depend on things other than ourself, and if we cannot know ourself as we actually are except by ceasing to be aware of anything other than ourself, will we forever cease to be happy if we know ourself as we actually are? Do we not cease to be aware of anything other than ourself while asleep, but are we not perfectly happy then? Do we ever experience any dissatisfaction or misery in sleep? Are not dissatisfaction and misery, and consequently desire for happiness and effort to achieve it, things that we experience only in waking and dream but not in sleep? Since we are not aware of anything other than our own being, ‘I am’, while asleep, and since we are perfectly happy and free of all dissatisfaction and misery then, does it not follow that happiness is not anything other than our own being?

Do we have any other reason for concluding that our very being is happiness? Do we not each love ourself more than we love any other thing? And is not happiness the cause of love? That is, do we not naturally love whatever is conducive to our happiness or satisfaction, and dislike whatever is detrimental to our happiness or satisfaction? In other words, do we not naturally love whatever we take to be a source of happiness, or at least a potential source of happiness? Why then do we each love ourself more than we love any other thing? Is not our love for ourself a powerful indication that we ourself are the ultimate source of happiness?

Why then do we seem to derive happiness from things other than ourself? Do we not experience happiness when we achieve whatever we like or desire, and when we avoid whatever we dislike? Does such happiness therefore come from the object of our desire or from the satisfaction of our desire for it? If it comes from the object of our desire, why does our desire for that object have to be satisfied before we seem to derive happiness from it? If happiness comes from the satisfaction of our desires rather than from the objects of our desire, does that not indicate that the happiness we seem to derive from objects actually comes from within ourself rather than from anything else?

Whenever a desire arises within us, is it not always closely associated with dissatisfaction? Is not any desire a form of mental agitation, and does it not thereby cause restlessness? If happiness is our real nature, does not mental agitation in the form of desire and dissatisfaction obscure that happiness? If this is the case, does it not follow that the happiness we experience whenever a desire is satisfied is our own real nature, which shines forth to the extent that mental agitation in the form of that desire subsides? Is this not confirmed by the fact that we experience calmness of mind as happiness or satisfaction, and agitation or restlessness of mind as unhappiness or dissatisfaction?

5. Can we achieve permanent cessation of mental activity without achieving permanent cessation of ego?

If we ourself are happiness, and if this happiness is obscured by agitation and restless activity of our mind, does it not follow that cessation of mental activity is the means to experience happiness? Whenever we fall asleep, does not all mental activity cease entirely, and do we not thereby experience a state of profound happiness or satisfaction? Is this not why we all love to sleep? But sleep is just a temporary cessation of mental activity, so how can we achieve permanent cessation of mental activity? Since the nature of the mind is to be active, can we achieve permanent cessation of mental activity without achieving permanent cessation of mind? If not, is permanent cessation of mind possible, and if it is, how can we achieve it?

The mind is the totality of all thoughts or mental phenomena, and the thinker and knower of all thoughts is ego, so is it not clear that ego is the root and essence of the mind? Without ego, the ‘I’ in whose view all thoughts or mental phenomena appear and disappear, is there any such thing as mind? Ego is the knowing subject, and all mental phenomena (perceptions, memories, thoughts, feelings, emotions, concepts, reasonings, judgements, evaluations, interpretations, understandings, likes, dislikes, desires, attachments, hopes, fears and so on) are objects known by it, so could any mental phenomena either appear or disappear except in the view of ego? Whenever ego wakes up from sleep or begins to dream, do not mental phenomena appear along with it, and whenever it falls asleep, do they not all disappear along with it? Since the nature of ego is to be constantly aware of the appearance and disappearance of mental phenomena, can we achieve cessation of mind without achieving cessation of ego?

How then can we achieve cessation of ego? What is ego? What is its nature? Is not ego the ‘I’ that is always aware of itself as ‘I am this person, a physical body endowed with life, mind, intellect and will’, and that is consequently aware of the seeming existence of things other than itself? In other words, is not ego what we seem to be whenever we are aware of ourself as ‘I am this body’, and whenever we are aware of ourself thus, are we not also aware of the seeming existence of other things? But are we the body that we now seem to be? If we are not, does it not follow then that ego is a false awareness of ourself, an awareness of ourself as something other than what we actually are? And if such is the case, does it not follow that correct awareness of ourself, namely being aware of ourself as we actually are, is the only means by which we can achieve cessation of ego?

6. How can we be aware of ourself as we actually are?

How then can we be aware of ourself as we actually are? Since the nature of ourself as ego is to be always aware of things other than ourself, does it not follow that we cannot be aware of ourself as we actually are so long as we are aware of anything other than ourself? In order for us to be aware of ourself as we actually are, therefore, is it not necessary for us to focus our entire attention on ourself so keenly that we thereby cease to be aware of anything other than ourself?

But what does it mean to focus our entire attention on ourself? What is this ‘self’ on which we should focus our entire attention? Though we are now aware of ourself as if we were a person, a bundle consisting of a physical body, life, mind, intellect and will, is it not clear from what we have considered above that none of these things are actually ourself? That is, since these things appear only in waking and dream but disappear in sleep, whereas we not only exist in all these three states but are also aware of being in each of them, is it not clear that our existence or being is something distinct from whatever appears only in waking or dream but disappears in sleep? Since we never experience, and never could experience, any time or state in which we are not aware ‘I am’, is it not clear that this awareness ‘I am’ (awareness of our own being) is itself our very being? In other words, is it not clear that this awareness ‘I am’ is what we actually are? If this is the case, does it not follow that focusing our entire attention on ourself means focusing it just on this fundamental awareness ‘I am’?

Whatever else we may be aware of, are we not always aware ‘I am’? Even when we are not aware of anything else whatsoever, as in sleep, are we not aware ‘I am’? Is it not clear, therefore, that this awareness ‘I am’ is our fundamental awareness? That is, since this awareness ‘I am’ endures without a break both when awareness of other things (transitive awareness) appears, as in waking and dream, and when it disappears entirely, as in sleep, is it not clear that this awareness ‘I am’ (intransitive awareness) is the ground or foundation from which awareness of other things appears, on which it rests, and into which it disappears? In other words, is not this awareness ‘I am’ like the cinema screen that remains unchanged and unaffected whether pictures appear on it or not, and is not awareness of anything else like a series of pictures that appears and disappears on this screen?

So long as we are aware of anything other than ourself, do we not confuse and conflate this fundamental awareness ‘I am’ with whatever person we currently seem to be? In other words, are we not aware of ourself as ‘I am this person’ whenever we are aware of anything other than ourself? Therefore, since what we actually are is not this person but only the fundamental awareness ‘I am’, in order for us to know ourself as nothing other than this fundamental awareness ‘I am’, is it not necessary for us to try patiently and persistently to be aware of nothing other than our own being, ‘I am’?

If we ourself are happiness, as we saw earlier, in order for us to be constantly aware of ourself as such, is it not necessary for us to be aware of ourself as we actually are? And if this fundamental awareness ‘I am’ is what we actually are, is not being aware of ourself as nothing other than this fundamental awareness ‘I am’ the means by which we can experience the infinite and eternal happiness that we all desire?

7. Self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) is ‘always keeping the mind on oneself’

The teachings of Bhagavan Ramana raise and prompt us (either explicitly or implicitly) to carefully consider all the above questions and many other such fundamental questions, and also provide clear, coherent, rational and logically satisfying answers to them. However, his teachings are more than just an analytic and carefully reasoned philosophy, because analysis and reasoning are functions of the intellect, which is a tool used by us as ego, so we cannot be aware of ourself as we actually are merely by analysis, reasoning and other such intellectual processes. In order to be aware of ourself as we actually are, we need to turn our entire interest and attention back within to face our own very being, our fundamental awareness ‘I am’, so the sole aim of all the philosophy he teaches us is to prompt and encourage us to try patiently and persistently to be self-attentive until we become aware of ourself as we actually are and thereby cease to mistake ourself to be anything else.

This practice of trying persistently to attend only to our own being in order to be aware of ourself as we actually are is what he called ātma-vicāra, which is a Sanskrit term that means ‘self-investigation’ (but which is often translated as ‘self-enquiry’), and what he means by this term is made clear by him in the following sentence of the sixteenth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?:

சதாகாலமும் மனத்தை ஆத்மாவில் வைத்திருப்பதற்குத் தான் ‘ஆத்மவிசார’ மென்று பெயர்.

sadā-kālam-um maṉattai ātmāvil vaittiruppadaṯku-t tāṉ ‘ātma-vicāram’ eṉḏṟu peyar.

The name ‘ātma-vicāra’ is only for always keeping the mind on ātmā [oneself].

‘மனத்தை ஆத்மாவில் வைத்திருப்பது’ (maṉattai ātmāvil vaittiruppadu), ‘keeping the mind on oneself’, means keeping our attention fixed firmly on ourself (that is, on our own being, our fundamental awareness ‘I am’) in order to know what we actually are.

8. As ego our nature is to subside and dissolve back into our being by attending to ourself

The nature of ourself as ego is to rise, stand and flourish by ‘grasping form’ (that is, by attending to anything other than ourself), but to subside and dissolve back into our source (our own being) by attending to ourself alone, as Bhagavan points out in verse 25 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu:

உருப்பற்றி யுண்டா முருப்பற்றி நிற்கு
முருப்பற்றி யுண்டுமிக வோங்கு — முருவிட்
டுருப்பற்றுந் தேடினா லோட்டம் பிடிக்கு
முருவற்ற பேயகந்தை யோர்.

uruppaṯṟi yuṇḍā muruppaṯṟi niṟku
muruppaṯṟi yuṇḍumiha vōṅgu — muruviṭ
ṭuruppaṯṟun tēḍiṉā lōṭṭam piḍikku
muruvaṯṟa pēyahandai yōr.

பதச்சேதம்: உரு பற்றி உண்டாம்; உரு பற்றி நிற்கும்; உரு பற்றி உண்டு மிக ஓங்கும்; உரு விட்டு, உரு பற்றும்; தேடினால் ஓட்டம் பிடிக்கும். உரு அற்ற பேய் அகந்தை. ஓர்.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): uru paṯṟi uṇḍām; uru paṯṟi niṯkum; uru paṯṟi uṇḍu miha ōṅgum; uru viṭṭu, uru paṯṟum; tēḍiṉāl ōṭṭam piḍikkum. uru aṯṟa pēy ahandai. ōr.

English translation: Grasping form it comes into existence; grasping form it stands; grasping and feeding on form it grows abundantly; leaving form, it grasps form. If seeking, it will take flight. [Such is the nature of this] formless demon ego. Investigate.

‘தேடினால் ஓட்டம் பிடிக்கும்’ (tēḍiṉāl ōṭṭam piḍikkum), ‘If seeking, it will take flight’, means that if we as ego seek to know what we actually are by keenly investigating ourself, we will thereby subside and dissolve back into the source from which we had risen, namely our own being, which is what shines within us as our fundamental awareness ‘I am’. This is one of the most fundamental and crucial principles of his teachings, and therefore one that he repeatedly emphasised, both explicitly and implicitly, throughout Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu and elsewhere.

Ego is an ‘உருவற்ற பேய்’ (uru-v-aṯṟa pēy), a ‘formless demon’, because it has no form or separate existence of its own, so as he implies by saying ‘உருப் பற்றி உண்டாம்’ (uru-p paṯṟi uṇḍām), ‘grasping form it comes into existence’, it cannot rise, come into existence or be formed as a separate entity without grasping the form of a body as itself, which is why as ego we are always aware of ourself as ‘I am this body’ (in which the term ‘body’ refers not just to the physical form of a body but to all the ‘five sheaths’, namely a physical body, the life that animates it, and the mind, intellect and will that operate within it, as he clarifies in verse 5 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu). For the same reason, ego cannot ‘stand’ or endure without constantly grasping the form of a body as itself, as he implies by saying ‘உருப் பற்றி நிற்கும்’ (uru-p paṯṟi niṯkum), ‘grasping form it stands’. Having grasped the form of a body as itself, ego then constantly grasps and feeds on other forms, meaning that it constantly attends to things other than itself, namely objects or phenomena, and thereby nourishes itself as a seemingly separate entity, as he implies by saying ‘உருப் பற்றி உண்டு மிக ஓங்கும்’ (uru-p paṯṟi uṇḍu miha ōṅgum), ‘grasping and feeding on form it grows abundantly’. Since it cannot stand for even a moment without constantly grasping form, when it leaves one form it grasps another one, as he implies by saying ‘உரு விட்டு, உருப் பற்றும்’ (uru viṭṭu, uru-p paṯṟum), ‘leaving form, it grasps form’.

Since ego itself is formless, whatever forms it grasps are things other than itself, and since ego bereft of all forms is just awareness, it can grasp forms only by being aware of them, so ‘உருப் பற்றி’ (uru-p paṯṟi), ‘grasping form’, means being aware of things other than itself. Therefore the implication of the first four sentences of this verse, ‘உருப் பற்றி உண்டாம்; உருப் பற்றி நிற்கும்; உருப் பற்றி உண்டு மிக ஓங்கும்; உரு விட்டு, உருப் பற்றும்’ (uru-p paṯṟi uṇḍām; uru-p paṯṟi niṯkum; uru-p paṯṟi uṇḍu miha ōṅgum; uru viṭṭu, uru-p paṯṟum), ‘Grasping form it comes into existence; grasping form it stands; grasping and feeding on form it grows abundantly; leaving form, it grasps form’, is that without being aware of things other than itself ego cannot rise (come into being or be formed), stand (endure) or flourish, whereas the fifth sentence, ‘தேடினால் ஓட்டம் பிடிக்கும்’ (tēḍiṉāl ōṭṭam piḍikkum), ‘If seeking [to know its own reality by investigating itself], it will take flight’, implies that if we as ego turn our awareness or attention back towards ourself alone, away from all other things, in order to know what we actually are, we will thereby ‘take flight’, meaning that we will subside and dissolve back into our being, which is the source from which we had risen.

9. Being keenly self-attentive is not only self-investigation but also self-surrender

Since we as ego will subside and dissolve back into our being by attending to our being, this simple practice of self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) is also the practice of complete self-surrender (ātma-samarpaṇa), as Bhagavan points out in the first sentence of the thirteenth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?:

ஆன்மசிந்தனையைத் தவிர வேறு சிந்தனை கிளம்புவதற்குச் சற்று மிடங்கொடாமல் ஆத்மநிஷ்டாபரனா யிருப்பதே தன்னை ஈசனுக் களிப்பதாம்.

āṉma-cintaṉaiyai-t tavira vēṟu cintaṉai kiḷambuvadaṟku-c caṯṟum iḍam-koḍāmal ātma-niṣṭhāparaṉ-āy iruppadē taṉṉai īśaṉukku aḷippadām.

Being ātma-niṣṭhāparaṉ [one who is firmly fixed as oneself], not giving even the slightest room to the rising of any other cintana [thought] except ātma-cintana [thought of oneself: self-contemplation or self-attentiveness], alone is giving oneself to God.

‘ஆத்மநிஷ்டாபரனா யிருப்பது’ (ātma-niṣṭhāparaṉ-āy iruppadu), ‘being one who is firmly fixed as oneself’, means being as we actually are, and in order to be as we actually are we need to cease rising as ego, so the means by which we can be as we actually are is ‘ஆன்மசிந்தனை’ (āṉma-cintaṉai), ‘self-thought’, ‘self-contemplation’ or ‘self-attention’, because the nature of ourself as ego is to subside to the extent to which we attend to ourself. Since all thoughts arise only in the view of ego, they cannot rise unless we as ego are aware of them, so if our entire attention is fixed on ourself so firmly that we cease to be aware of anything else, we will thereby give no room for any other thought to arise, as Bhagavan implies in the first clause of this sentence: ‘ஆன்மசிந்தனையைத் தவிர வேறு சிந்தனை கிளம்புவதற்குச் சற்று மிடங்கொடாமல்’ (āṉma-cintaṉaiyai-t tavira vēṟu cintaṉai kiḷambuvadaṟku-c caṯṟum iḍam-koḍāmal), ‘not giving even the slightest room to the rising of any other thought (cintana) except ātma-cintana’. Therefore, being as we actually are by being so keenly self-attentive that we thereby give not even the slightest room to the rising of any other thought is surrendering ourself entirely to God.

The heart of Bhagavan’s teachings is therefore just this simple practice of trying to be self-attentive as much as we can, because being self-attentive is both self-investigation, which is the path of knowledge (jñāna), and self-surrender, which is the path of love or devotion (bhakti).

10. Who or what is God?

When Bhagavan says that being as we actually are is ‘தன்னை ஈசனுக் களிப்பது’ (taṉṉai īśaṉukku aḷippadu), ‘giving oneself to God’, what exactly does he mean by ‘God’ (īśaṉ)? Who or what is God? There are of course many different conceptions that people have of God, so is there any one fundamental conception of God that all or at least most theists would agree upon? Few if any theists would disagree with the idea that God is infinite, because if he were not infinite, he would be finite, and if he were finite, he would not be ‘that than which nothing greater can be conceived’. Since all thoughts or conceptions are finite, there can never be an adequate conception of what is infinite, but we can at least conceive it in negative terms as that which is completely devoid of limitations, boundaries or divisions of any kind whatsoever, so there cannot be anything greater than it. This is why in the Taittirīya Upaniṣad 2.1.1 brahman (God as he actually is rather than as we conceive him to be) is defined as satyam (what is real, meaning what actually is rather than what merely seems to be), jñānam (awareness or consciousness, meaning pure awareness) and anantam (infinite, without end or limit).

If God is infinite, nothing can be other than him, because if there were anything other than him, he would thereby be limited and hence not infinite. However, though nothing can be other than him, he is not the sum total of all finite things, because the sum of all finite things is itself finite, so he is not only immanent in all finite things (in the sense that he is the one vastu, poruḷ or ultimate substance of which they are all formed), but also that which transcends all of them (in the sense that he is not limited in any way by any or all of them). Moreover, though there cannot be anything other than him, it is not correct to say that finite things are therefore parts of him, because if he is infinite, he cannot be divided or partitioned in any way. There are three reasons for this: firstly, if something is divided, that division is an internal limit or boundary, and the infinite is by definition devoid of all limits, both external and internal; secondly, if something is divided into parts, each part would be finite, so the sum of all parts would also be finite; and thirdly, if one thing is divided, it thereby becomes two or more things, so division is a change from one to more than one, and since change can occur only in time, whatever is divisible or changeable (mutable) in any way is bound within the limits of time, and hence not infinite. If God is infinite, therefore, he must be eternal, indivisible and immutable. In what way, therefore, are all finite things related to God, the one infinite, eternal, indivisible and immutable reality?

What makes a finite thing finite is its limitations, so if all its limitations were removed, it would be infinite, and hence the infinite is what every finite thing essentially is. In other words, bereft of all limitations, the essential being of every finite thing is infinite. However, since the infinite is by definition immutable, it can never become finite, so finite things and their limitations are not real but just illusory appearances. But to whom do all these illusory things appear? Since they seem to exist only in waking and dream, when we have risen and are standing as ego, but not in sleep, when we do not rise or stand as ego, they appear only in the view of ourself as ego, so the seeming existence of all finite things depends upon the seeming existence of ourself as ego, which is therefore the first finite thing and the root of all other finite things, as Bhagavan implies in the first three sentences of verse 26 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu: ‘அகந்தை உண்டாயின், அனைத்தும் உண்டாகும்; அகந்தை இன்றேல், அனைத்தும் இன்று. அகந்தையே யாவும் ஆம்’ (ahandai uṇḍāyiṉ, aṉaittum uṇḍāhum; ahandai iṉḏṟēl, iṉḏṟu aṉaittum. ahandai-y-ē yāvum ām), ‘If ego comes into existence, everything [meaning every finite thing] comes into existence; if ego does not exist, everything does not exist. Ego itself is everything’.

We seem to be ego, which is what is also called ‘soul’ (jīva), only because we have imposed limitations on ourself by being aware of ourself as ‘I am this body’, but these limitations are not real but just illusory adjuncts (upādhi), so even when we seem to have imposed these unreal limitations upon ourself, what we essentially are is just infinite being, which is what is called ‘God’ (īśaṉ), as Bhagavan points in verse 24 of Upadēśa Undiyār:

இருக்கு மியற்கையா லீசசீ வர்க
ளொருபொரு ளேயாவ ருந்தீபற
வுபாதி யுணர்வேவே றுந்தீபற.

irukku miyaṟkaiyā līśajī varga
ḷoruporu ḷēyāva rundīpaṟa
vupādhi yuṇarvēvē ṟundīpaṟa.

பதச்சேதம்: இருக்கும் இயற்கையால் ஈச சீவர்கள் ஒரு பொருளே ஆவர். உபாதி உணர்வே வேறு.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): irukkum iyaṯkaiyāl īśa-jīvargaḷ oru poruḷē āvar. upādhi-y-uṇarvē vēṟu.

English translation: By being nature, God and soul are just one substance. Only adjunct-awareness is different.

‘இருக்கும்’ (irukkum) is an adjectival participle that means ‘being’, ‘existing’ or ‘which is’, and ‘இயற்கையால்’ (iyaṯkaiyāl) is an instrumental (third case) form of ‘இயற்கை’ (iyaṯkai), which means ‘nature’, in this case implying real or essential nature, so ‘இருக்கும் இயற்கையால்’ (irukkum iyaṯkaiyāl) means ‘by [or because of] being nature’ and implies ‘by their essential being nature’ or ‘by their essential nature, which is’, in which ‘இருக்கும்’ (irukkum), ‘being’ or ‘which is’, implies that what God and soul actually are is ‘what is’ (uḷḷadu or iruppadu) in the sense of what actually is as opposed to what merely seems to be, or in other words, that they are pure being (sat). ‘ஈசசீவர்கள்’ (īśa-jīvargaḷ) is a compound of ‘ஈசன்’ (īśaṉ), ‘God’, and ‘சீவன்’ (jīvaṉ), ‘soul’, and the plural termination ‘கள்’ (gaḷ) is used here because this compound refers to two things, namely ‘God and soul’. ‘ஒரு’ (oru) is an adjective that means ‘one’, and in this context ‘பொருள்’ (poruḷ), which is a Tamil equivalent of the Sanskrit ‘वस्तु’ (vastu), means ‘substance’ in the sense of the one ultimate substance or reality, which is what all things essentially are. ‘பொருளே’ (poruḷē) is an intensified form of ‘பொருள்’ (poruḷ), and in this context the intensifying suffix ‘ē’ implies ‘only’ or ‘just’, so ‘ஒரு பொருளே’ (oru poruḷē) means ‘just one substance’. The final word of this first sentence, ‘ஆவர்’ (āvar), is a third person plural verb that means ‘[they] are’, so the entire sentence, ‘இருக்கும் இயற்கையால் ஈச சீவர்கள் ஒரு பொருளே ஆவர்’ (irukkum iyaṯkaiyāl īśa-jīvargaḷ oru poruḷē āvar), means ‘By being nature, God and soul are just one substance’, thereby implying that because their essential nature is what is, namely pure being, as such they are just one substance.

That is, the one substance (oru poruḷ) that is both God and soul is their essential nature (iyaṯkai), which is just being, pure being (sat). Moreover, since God and soul are both aware of their being as ‘I am’, and since their awareness ‘I am’ is not other than their being, the one substance that they both are is pure being-awareness (sat-cit), as Bhagavan implied in the previous verse, namely verse 23 of Upadēśa Undiyār:

உள்ள துணர வுணர்வுவே றின்மையி
னுள்ள துணர்வாகு முந்தீபற
வுணர்வேநா மாயுள முந்தீபற.

uḷḷa duṇara vuṇarvuvē ṟiṉmaiyi
ṉuḷḷa duṇarvāhu mundīpaṟa
vuṇarvēnā māyuḷa mundīpaṟa.

பதச்சேதம்: உள்ளது உணர உணர்வு வேறு இன்மையின், உள்ளது உணர்வு ஆகும். உணர்வே நாமாய் உளம்.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): uḷḷadu uṇara uṇarvu vēṟu iṉmaiyiṉ, uḷḷadu uṇarvu āhum. uṇarvē nām-āy uḷam.

English translation: Because of the non-existence of other awareness to be aware of what is, what is is awareness. Awareness alone is as we.

‘உள்ளது’ (uḷḷadu) means ‘what is’ or ‘what exists’ in the sense of what actually is as opposed to what merely seems to be, so it implies pure being or existence (sat), other than which nothing can be, because anything other than what is would not be (in other words, anything other than what exists would be non-existent). Hence, since nothing can be other than what is, there can be no awareness other than what is to know what is, as Bhagavan points out in the first clause of this verse: ‘உள்ளது உணர உணர்வு வேறு இன்மையின்’ (uḷḷadu uṇara uṇarvu vēṟu iṉmaiyiṉ), ‘Because of the non-existence of other awareness to know [or be aware of] what is’, in which ‘உணர்வு வேறு’ (uṇarvu vēṟu), ‘other awareness’ or ‘different awareness’, implies ‘awareness other than what is’. Therefore, what is must itself be the awareness that knows itself, as he points out in the main clause of this first sentence of verse 23: ‘உள்ளது உணர்வு ஆகும்’ (uḷḷadu uṇarvu āhum), ‘what is (uḷḷadu) is awareness (uṇarvu)’, meaning that what actually exists is awareness in the sense of pure awareness, namely awareness that is aware of nothing other than itself. In other words, what actually is is just pure self-knowing being, so it itself is what knows itself as ‘I am’, and hence the fundamental awareness that shines in us as ‘I am’ is alone what actually is, so it is both pure being (sat) and pure awareness (cit), and this is what we essentially are, as he implies in the final sentence of verse 23: ‘உணர்வே நாமாய் உளம்’ (uṇarvē nām-āy uḷam), ‘Awareness alone is as we’ or ‘Awareness alone exists as we’. Therefore what we actually are is pure being-awareness (sat-cit), which is what always exists and shines as ‘I am’, and this is also what God actually is.

Pure being-awareness (sat-cit) is therefore what Bhagavan describes in verse 24 as the ‘ஒரு பொருள்’ (oru poruḷ) or ‘one substance’ that is both God and soul. Why then do we seem to be something other than God? When we are both the same being-awareness, ‘I am’, what makes us seemingly different? The answer is given by him in the final sentence of verse 24: ‘உபாதியுணர்வே வேறு’ (upādhi-y-uṇarvē vēṟu), ‘Adjunct-awareness alone is different’ or ‘Only adjunct-awareness is different’, thereby implying that our adjunct-awareness alone is what makes us seem to be something different or other than God. ‘உபாதியுணர்வே’ (upādhi-y-uṇarvē) is an intensified form of ‘உபாதியுணர்வு’ (upādhi-y-uṇarvu), which is a compound of ‘உபாதி’ (upādhi), ‘adjunct’, and ‘உணர்வு’ (uṇarvu), ‘awareness’. ‘உபாதி’ (upādhi) is a Sanskrit word that means an adjunct in the sense of a secondary thing that a primary thing is mistaken to be, a false identity, disguise, fraudulent substitute, deceptive appearance or superimposed limitation, and since the adjuncts we take ourself to be, namely this body consisting of five sheaths (the physical form of the body, the life that animates it, and the mind, intellect and will that operate within it), are just a false awareness of ourself and have no existence whatsoever independent of or other than our awareness of them, he refers to them here as ‘உபாதியுணர்வு’ (upādhi-y-uṇarvu), ‘adjunct-awareness’. The intensifying suffix ‘ē’ in ‘உபாதியுணர்வே’ (upādhi-y-uṇarvē) implies ‘only’ or ‘alone’, and ‘வேறு’ (vēṟu) means ‘other’ or ‘different’, so ‘உபாதியுணர்வே வேறு’ (upādhi-y-uṇarvē vēṟu) means ‘Only adjunct-awareness is different’, thereby implying that this false adjunct-conflated awareness ‘I am this body’ is what makes us seem to be other than God.

Since God is ourself as we actually are, we cannot know him as he actually is without knowing ourself as we actually are, so as long as we are aware of ourself as a certain set of adjuncts, we cannot but identify God with another set of adjuncts, namely a set of divine qualities or attributes. Since we have limited ourself as ‘I am this body’, we seem to be limited in place and time, we seem to have only limited knowledge and power, and our love seems to be limited in the form of likes, dislikes, desires, aversions, attachments, hopes and fears, whereas we believe God to be infinite, so he is not limited in place or time, and his knowledge, power and love are also unlimited. Therefore, to the extent to which we can conceive his infinite being, we attribute to him divine qualities such as being all-pervading or omnipresent, all-knowing or omniscient, all-powerful or omnipotent, all-loving or omnibenevolent, and yet also all-transcending. He is all-transcending because he is infinite, so he is far beyond anything that our finite mind could conceive, and hence he cannot be limited by our finite conception of such divine qualities, nor is there any ‘all’ other than himself for him to pervade, know, have power over or love. Whatever divine adjuncts we may attribute to him, therefore, exist only in our finite view, which is clouded by the adjuncts with which we have identified ourself, and not in his infinite view, which is perfectly clear, being unclouded by anything whatsoever, and in which there are therefore no differences of any kind at all.

Therefore, though as ego or soul (jīva) we are aware of ourself as a certain set of adjuncts, namely the five sheaths that constitute whatever person we currently seem to be, and consequently attribute certain other adjuncts to God, God always remains just as pure being-awareness (sat-cit), in the clear view of which no adjuncts exist at all, so the differences between God and ourself seem to exist only in the view of ourself and not in the view of God. In order to know God as he actually is, therefore, all that is required is that we should know ourself without adjuncts, as Bhagavan says in verse 25 of Upadēśa Undiyār:

தன்னை யுபாதிவிட் டோர்வது தானீசன்
றன்னை யுணர்வதா முந்தீபற
தானா யொளிர்வதா லுந்தீபற.

taṉṉai yupādhiviṭ ṭōrvadu tāṉīśaṉ
ḏṟaṉṉai yuṇarvadā mundīpaṟa
tāṉā yoḷirvadā lundīpaṟa.

பதச்சேதம்: தன்னை உபாதி விட்டு ஓர்வது தான் ஈசன் தன்னை உணர்வது ஆம், தானாய் ஒளிர்வதால்.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): taṉṉai upādhi viṭṭu ōrvadu tāṉ īśaṉ taṉṉai uṇarvadu ām, tāṉ-āy oḷirvadāl.

English translation: Knowing oneself leaving adjuncts is itself knowing God, because of [God being what is] shining as oneself.

‘விட்டு’ (viṭṭu) is an adverbial participle that means ‘leaving’ or ‘letting go’, or ‘having left’ or ‘having let go’, so it is often used in the sense of ‘without’. Therefore ‘உபாதி விட்டு’ (upādhi viṭṭu) literally means ‘leaving adjuncts’ or ‘letting go of adjuncts’, which implies ‘without adjuncts’, so ‘தன்னை உபாதி விட்டு ஓர்வது’ (taṉṉai upādhi viṭṭu ōrvadu) means ‘knowing [or being aware of] oneself leaving [or letting go of] adjuncts’, and therefore implies ‘knowing oneself without adjuncts’. So long as we are aware of ourself as ‘I am this person’, we are clinging firmly to all the adjuncts that constitute the person whom we mistake ourself to be, so we cannot know ourself as we actually are without letting go of all these adjuncts, and we can let go of all of them in such a way that we know ourself as we actually are only by clinging to ourself as firmly as we have till now been clinging to whatever adjuncts we have mistaken ourself to be. ‘Clinging firmly to ourself’ means attending to ourself so keenly that we thereby cease to be aware of anything else at all, because only when we attend to ourself so keenly will we be aware of ourself as pure awareness (awareness that is aware of nothing other than itself), which is what we always actually are, and what God also actually is, so as he says in the main clause of this verse: ‘தன்னை உபாதி விட்டு ஓர்வது தான் ஈசன் தன்னை உணர்வது ஆம்’ (taṉṉai upādhi viṭṭu ōrvadu tāṉ īśaṉ taṉṉai uṇarvadu ām), ‘Knowing oneself having let go of adjuncts is itself knowing God’.

As ego we are always aware of ourself as ‘I am this body’, so ego is a false awareness of ourself, and hence it can be annihilated only by correct awareness of ourself, which means awareness of ourself as the pure being-awareness (sat-cit) that we actually are. Being aware of ourself thus is what Bhagavan means by ‘தன்னை உபாதி விட்டு ஓர்வது’ (taṉṉai upādhi viṭṭu ōrvadu), ‘knowing [or being aware of] oneself leaving [or letting go of] adjuncts’, and since this is the means to eradicate ego, it is the state of complete self-surrender, in which we lose our seemingly finite being in the infinite being that is God, who is ‘தானாய் ஒளிர்வது’ (tāṉ-āy oḷirvadu), ‘what is shining as oneself’, meaning that he shines eternally as what we always actually are.

Therefore the final clause of this verse, ‘தானாய் ஒளிர்வதால்’ (tāṉ-āy oḷirvadāl), ‘by shining as oneself’ or ‘because of shining as oneself’, implies ‘because of [God being what is] shining as oneself’, in which ‘தான்’ (tāṉ), ‘oneself’, means ourself as we actually are, namely pure being-awareness, ‘I am’, which is ourself without any adjuncts. That is, the reason why knowing ourself without adjuncts is itself knowing God is that God is what always exists and shines as our own very being, which is ourself as we always actually are.

11. Being as we actually are without rising as ego is knowing ourself as we actually are

What we actually are is pure awareness, and since pure awareness can never be an object of awareness, it cannot be known by anything other than itself, so knowing ourself as pure awareness means being pure awareness, as Bhagavan implies in verse 26 of Upadēśa Undiyār:

தானா யிருத்தலே தன்னை யறிதலாந்
தானிரண் டற்றதா லுந்தீபற
தன்மய நிட்டையீ துந்தீபற.

tāṉā yiruttalē taṉṉai yaṟidalān
tāṉiraṇ ḍaṯṟadā lundīpaṟa
taṉmaya niṭṭhaiyī dundīpaṟa.

பதச்சேதம்: தான் ஆய் இருத்தலே தன்னை அறிதல் ஆம், தான் இரண்டு அற்றதால். தன்மய நிட்டை ஈது.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): tāṉ-āy iruttal-ē taṉṉai aṟidal ām, tāṉ iraṇḍu aṯṟadāl. taṉmaya-niṭṭhai īdu.

English translation: Being oneself alone is knowing oneself, because oneself is devoid of two. This is tanmaya-niṣṭhā.

‘தான் ஆய் இருத்தல்’ (tāṉ-āy iruttal) means ‘being oneself’ (or more literally, ‘being as oneself’), which implies being as we actually are, without rising as ego to know anything else, and ‘தன்னை அறிதல்’ (taṉṉai aṟidal) means ‘knowing oneself’, so ‘தான் ஆய் இருத்தலே தன்னை அறிதல் ஆம்’ (tāṉ-āy iruttal-ē taṉṉai aṟidal ām) means ‘Being oneself alone is knowing oneself’, which implies that being as we actually are is itself knowing ourself as we actually are. Knowing anything other than ourself is a tripartite knowledge, because it entails three elements or factors (tripuṭī), namely ourself as the subject or knower (pramātā), something else as the object or thing known (pramēya), and a means by which we know it (pramāṇa), whereas knowing ourself entails only ourself and nothing else, because in self-knowledge or self-awareness we ourself are the knower, what is known and the means of knowing, as Bhagavan implies in the clause ‘தான் இரண்டு அற்றதால்’ (tāṉ iraṇḍu aṯṟadāl), which means ‘by oneself being devoid of two’, ‘because of oneself being devoid of two’ or ‘because oneself is devoid of two’. That is, what we actually are is one and indivisible, so it is devoid of the fundamental duality of subject and object, knower and thing known, and also devoid of any possibility of being divided as two selves, one self as a subject to know the other self as an object. Not only can we not be divided as one self that knows and another self that is known, but even the means by which we know ourself is nothing other than ourself, because what we actually are is pure awareness, which knows itself just by being itself.

As Bhagavan implies by saying ‘தன்மயநிட்டை ஈது’ (taṉmaya-niṭṭhai īdu), ‘This is tanmaya-niṣṭhā’, this state in which we know ourself as we actually are just by being ourself as we actually are is what is called ‘தன்மயநிட்டை’ (taṉmaya-niṭṭhai), which is a Tamil form of the Sanskrit term ‘तन्मयनिष्ठा’ (tanmaya-niṣṭhā), which is a compound of ‘तन्मय’ (tanmaya) and ‘निष्ठा’ (niṣṭhā). ‘तन्मय’ (tanmaya) is formed from the pronoun ‘तत्’ (tat), ‘that’, which refers to brahman, and the suffix ‘मय’ (maya), which means ‘made of’, ‘composed of’, ‘consisting of’ or ‘full of’, or in this context, ‘as’, ‘one with’, ‘identical with’ or ‘absorbed in’, and ‘निष्ठा’ (niṣṭhā) means ‘state’, ‘firmness’, ‘fixity’, ‘steadiness’, ‘steadfastness’, ‘firm adherence’ or ‘firm devotion’, so ‘तन्मयनिष्ठा’ (tanmaya-niṣṭhā) means ‘steadfastness as that’ and implies the state of being firmly fixed or established as ‘that’ (tat), namely brahman, the one infinite reality, which is what we always actually are.

We are always what we actually are, but so long as we rise as ego we seem to be something other than what we actually are, so ‘தான் ஆய் இருத்தல்’ (tāṉ-āy iruttal), ‘being oneself’ or ‘being as oneself’, means being without rising as ego, and hence ‘தான் ஆய் இருத்தலே தன்னை அறிதல் ஆம்’ (tāṉ-āy iruttal-ē taṉṉai aṟidal ām), ‘Being oneself alone is knowing oneself’, implies that in order to be aware of ourself as we actually are we must cease rising as ego. However, it is equally true to say that in order to cease rising as ego we must be aware of ourself as we actually are, because the state of not rising as ego is the state of being as we actually are, and being as we actually are is knowing ourself as we actually are, so not rising as ego and being aware of ourself as we actually are are one and the same thing. In other words, the state of not rising as ego is itself the state of knowing and being what we actually are, as Bhagavan points out in verse 27 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu:

நானுதியா துள்ளநிலை நாமதுவா யுள்ளநிலை
நானுதிக்குந் தானமதை நாடாம — னானுதியாத்
தன்னிழப்பைச் சார்வதெவன் சாராமற் றானதுவாந்
தன்னிலையி னிற்பதெவன் சாற்று.

nāṉudiyā duḷḷanilai nāmaduvā yuḷḷanilai
nāṉudikkun thāṉamadai nāḍāma — ṉāṉudiyāt
taṉṉiṙappaic cārvadevaṉ sārāmaṯ ṟāṉaduvān
taṉṉilaiyi ṉiṯpadevaṉ sāṯṟu.

பதச்சேதம்: ‘நான்’ உதியாது உள்ள நிலை நாம் அது ஆய் உள்ள நிலை. ‘நான்’ உதிக்கும் தானம் அதை நாடாமல், ‘நான்’ உதியா தன் இழப்பை சார்வது எவன்? சாராமல், தான் அது ஆம் தன் நிலையில் நிற்பது எவன்? சாற்று.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): ‘nāṉ’ udiyādu uḷḷa nilai nām adu-v-āy uḷḷa nilai. ‘nāṉ’ udikkum thāṉam-adai nāḍāmal, ‘nāṉ’ udiyā taṉ-ṉ-iṙappai sārvadu evaṉ? sārāmal, tāṉ adu ām taṉ nilaiyil niṯpadu evaṉ? sāṯṟu.

English translation: The state in which ‘I’ is without rising is the state in which we are as that. Without investigating the place where ‘I’ rises, how to reach the annihilation of oneself, in which ‘I’ does not rise? Without reaching, how to stand in one’s own state, in which oneself is that? Say.

‘நான்’ (nāṉ) is the nominative first person singular pronoun, ‘I’; ‘உதியாது’ (udiyādu) is a negative adverbial participle that means ‘not rising’ or ‘without rising’; ‘உள்ள’ (uḷḷa) is an adjectival participle that means ‘being’, ‘existing’ or ‘which is’; and ‘நிலை’ (nilai) means ‘state’, so ‘நான் உதியாது உள்ள நிலை’ (nāṉ udiyādu uḷḷa nilai) means ‘the I not rising being state’, ‘the state of I being without rising’ or ‘the state in which I is without rising’. ‘நாம்’ (nām) is one of the two forms of the nominative first person plural pronoun in Tamil, but whereas the other form, ‘நாங்கள்’ (nāṅgaḷ), means ‘we’ excluding whoever is being addressed, ‘நாம்’ (nām) means ‘we’ including whoever is being addressed, so Bhagavan often uses ‘நாம்’ (nām) as an inclusive form of the first person singular pronoun; ‘அது’ (adu) is a distal demonstrative pronoun that means ‘that’, referring here to brahman, which is ourself as we actually are; and ‘ஆய்’ (āy) is an adverbial participle that means ‘being’ or ‘as’, so ‘நாம் அதுவாய் உள்ள நிலை’ (nām adu-v-āy uḷḷa nilai) means ‘the we as that being state’, ‘the state of we being as that’ or ‘the state in which we are as that’. Therefore the first sentence of this verse, ‘நான் உதியாது உள்ள நிலை நாம் அது ஆய் உள்ள நிலை’ (nāṉ udiyādu uḷḷa nilai nām adu-v-āy uḷḷa nilai), means ‘The state in which I [just] is without rising is the state in which we are as that’, thereby implying that, since we seem to be something other than that whenever we rise as ego, even though we are always actually that and never anything else, in order for us to be aware of ourself as that, we must just be without rising as ego.

‘நான் உதிக்கும் தானம்’ (nāṉ udikkum thāṉam), ‘the place where I rises’, is our own being, which is what shines as our fundamental awareness ‘I am’, so ‘நான் உதிக்கும் தானம் அதை நாடுதல்’ (nāṉ udikkum thāṉam-adai nāḍudal), ‘investigating the place where I rises’, implies investigating our own being, ‘I am’, which is the source from which we have risen as ego, the false awareness ‘I am this body’. ‘நாடாமல்’ (nāḍāmal) is a negative adverbial participle of the verb ‘நாடு’ (nāḍu), ‘investigate’, so it means ‘not investigating’ or ‘without investigating’, and hence ‘நான் உதிக்கும் தானம் அதை நாடாமல்’ (nāṉ udikkum thāṉam-adai nāḍāmal) is an adverbial clause that means ‘without investigating the place where I rises’.

In the main clause of this second sentence, ‘நான் உதியா தன்னிழப்பை சார்வது எவன்?’ (nāṉ udiyā taṉ-ṉ-iṙappai sārvadu evaṉ?), ‘உதியா’ (udiyā) is a negative adjectival participle that means ‘not rising’ or ‘which does not rise’, and ‘தன்னிழப்பை’ (taṉ-ṉ-iṙappai) is an accusative (second case) form of ‘தன்னிழப்பு’ (taṉ-ṉ-iṙappu), which is a compound of ‘தன்’ (taṉ), the inflectional base of the generic pronoun ‘தான்’ (tāṉ), ‘oneself’, and ‘இழப்பு’ (iṙappu), which means ‘loss’, ‘death’, ‘destruction’ or ‘annihilation’, so ‘தன்னிழப்பு’ (taṉ-ṉ-iṙappu) means ‘self-annihilation’ or ‘annihilation of oneself’, thereby implying annihilation of ego, and ‘நான் உதியா தன்னிழப்பு’ (nāṉ udiyā taṉ-ṉ-iṙappu) means ‘annihilation of oneself, in which I does not rise’, which is the state that he described in the first sentence as ‘நான் உதியாது உள்ள நிலை’ (nāṉ udiyādu uḷḷa nilai), ‘the state in which I [just] is without rising’. ‘சார்வது’ (sārvadu) is a participial noun that means ‘reaching’, ‘taking refuge in’, ‘merging in’ or ‘uniting with’, and ‘எவன்’ (evaṉ) is an interrogative adverb that means ‘how’ or ‘in what way’, so ‘சார்வது எவன்?’ (sārvadu evaṉ?) means ‘how reaching?’ or ‘how to reach?’. Therefore this second sentence, ‘நான் உதிக்கும் தானம் அதை நாடாமல், நான் உதியா தன் இழப்பை சார்வது எவன்?’ (nāṉ udikkum thāṉam-adai nāḍāmal, nāṉ udiyā taṉ-ṉ-iṙappai sārvadu evaṉ?), is a rhetorical question that means ‘Without investigating the place where I rises, how to reach the annihilation of oneself, in which I does not rise?’, thereby implying that the only means by which we can achieve (or take refuge in) annihilation of ego is investigating our own being, ‘I am’, by keenly attending to it.

In the third sentence, ‘சாராமல்’ (sārāmal) is a negative adverbial participle of the verb ‘சார்’ (sār), ‘reach’, ‘take refuge in’, ‘merge in’ or ‘unite with’, so it means ‘not reaching’ or ‘without reaching’, which in this context implies ‘without reaching [taking refuge or merging in] annihilation of oneself’. ‘தன்னிலை’ (taṉṉilai) is a compound of ‘தன்’ (taṉ) and ‘நிலை’ (nilai), in which ‘தன்’ (taṉ) is the inflectional base of the generic pronoun ‘தான்’ (tāṉ), which in this context means ‘oneself’, and ‘நிலை’ (nilai) means ‘state’. Since ‘தன்’ (taṉ) is not only the form that ‘தான்’ (tāṉ) takes as the first word in a compound, but is also often used as a genitive (sixth case) form of ‘தான்’ (tāṉ), ‘தன்னிலை’ (taṉṉilai) can be taken to mean ‘the self-state’, ‘the state of oneself’ or ‘one’s own state’, but these meanings all amount to the same, because they imply our real state, namely the state of being as we actually are, without rising as ego. This is why he describes ‘தன்னிலை’ (taṉṉilai) as ‘தான் அது ஆம் தன்னிலை’ (tāṉ adu ām taṉṉilai), ‘one’s own state, in which oneself is that’, in which ‘அது’ (adu), ‘that’, refers to brahman, the infinite reality, which is what we always actually are. Therefore, this third sentence, ‘சாராமல், தான் அது ஆம் தன்னிலையில் நிற்பது எவன்?’ (sārāmal, tāṉ adu ām taṉṉilaiyil niṯpadu evaṉ?), ‘Without reaching, how to stand in one’s own state, in which oneself is that?’, is another rhetorical question, by which Bhagavan implies that the only means by which we can be as we actually are, namely as brahman, which is pure being-awareness (sat-cit), is reaching or taking refuge in the annihilation of ego.

Thus the overall implication of this verse is that we cannot be as we actually are without annihilating ego, and we cannot annihilate ego without investigating our own being, which is the source from which we have risen as ego. That is, ego is a false awareness of ourself, because as ego we are always aware of ourself as ‘I am this body’, which is not what we actually are, so our rising and standing as ego is what obscures our awareness of ourself as we actually are, and hence in order for us to know and to be what we actually are, we need to eradicate ego. Moreover, since it is just awareness of ourself as something other than what we actually are, ego cannot be eradicated by any means other than our being aware of ourself as we actually are, and we cannot be aware of ourself as we actually are by any means other than investigating ourself by being keenly self-attentive.

12. Investigating what ego actually is alone is giving up everything

To the extent to which we attend to ourself, we as ego will subside, and if we attend to ourself so keenly that we thereby cease to be aware of anything else whatsoever, we will be aware of ourself as pure awareness, namely awareness that is aware of nothing other than itself, so since pure awareness is what we actually are, as soon as we are aware of ourself as such, ego will thereby be eradicated. Therefore being self-attentive is surrendering ourself completely, and since everything else, namely all forms, objects or phenomena, seems to exist only in the view of ourself as ego, surrendering ego is surrendering everything, as Bhagavan points out in verse 26 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu:

அகந்தையுண் டாயி னனைத்துமுண் டாகு
மகந்தையின் றேலின் றனைத்து — மகந்தையே
யாவுமா மாதலால் யாதிதென்று நாடலே
யோவுதல் யாவுமென வோர்.

ahandaiyuṇ ḍāyi ṉaṉaittumuṇ ḍāhu
mahandaiyiṉ ḏṟēliṉ ḏṟaṉaittu — mahandaiyē
yāvumā mādalāl yādideṉḏṟu nāḍalē
yōvudal yāvumeṉa vōr.

பதச்சேதம்: அகந்தை உண்டாயின், அனைத்தும் உண்டாகும்; அகந்தை இன்றேல், இன்று அனைத்தும். அகந்தையே யாவும் ஆம். ஆதலால், யாது இது என்று நாடலே ஓவுதல் யாவும் என ஓர்.

Padacchēdam (word-separation): ahandai uṇḍāyiṉ, aṉaittum uṇḍāhum; ahandai iṉḏṟēl, iṉḏṟu aṉaittum. ahandai-y-ē yāvum ām. ādalāl, yādu idu eṉḏṟu nāḍal-ē ōvudal yāvum eṉa ōr.

English translation: If ego comes into existence, everything comes into existence; if ego does not exist, everything does not exist. Ego itself is everything. Therefore, know that investigating what this is alone is giving up everything.

13. To go deep in this practice of self-investigation we require wholehearted and all-consuming love

Since we cannot investigate ourself without thereby surrendering ourself, we will not be willing to go deep in this practice of self-investigation unless we have wholehearted and all-consuming love to know and to be what we actually are. Therefore, since such love is the purest form of bhakti (devotion to God, who is our own being), Bhagavan often said ‘bhakti is the mother of jñāna’, thereby implying that without such love we cannot attain jñāna (awareness of ourself as we actually are).

If we are attracted to these teachings and interested in following this path of self-investigation and self-surrender, to that extent we already have at least a seed of the love required to follow this path to its conclusion, but the love that most of us have is still very inadequate, so how can we nurture and cultivate this seed so that it develops into the fully grown plant of all-consuming love that alone can enable us to sink deep within our own being and dissolve forever in the infinite clarity of pure being-awareness? As ego we have strong viṣaya-vāsanās, inclinations (vāsanās) to seek happiness or satisfaction in viṣayas (objects or phenomena), which are all things other than ourself, so the love to subside and dissolve forever in our own being, which is what is called sat-vāsanā (inclination to know and to be what we actually are), is the very antithesis of all viṣaya-vāsanās, which are the seeds that sprout in the form of likes, dislikes, desires, attachments, hopes, fears and suchlike. Therefore the only means to nurture and cultivate this love is to persevere patiently and tenaciously in trying to be self-attentive as much as we can, because every moment that we are self-attentive we are thereby strengthening our sat-vāsanā and correspondingly weakening our viṣaya-vāsanās.

That is, vāsanās have no strength of their own but derive their strength from us. Whenever we allow ourself to be swayed by any vāsanā, we are thereby giving it strength, and whenever we refrain from being swayed by it, we are thereby weakening it. Every moment that we cling firmly to self-attentiveness, we are allowing ourself to be swayed by our sat-vāsanā, so we are strengthening it, and we are refraining from being swayed by any viṣaya-vāsanās, so we are weakening them. Therefore being self-attentive is the most effective means by which we can nurture and cultivate our love to know and to be what we actually are.

However, when we try to be self-attentive, under the sway of our viṣaya-vāsanās our attention will be frequently diverted away from ourself towards other things, so each time this happens, we must try to turn our attention back to ourself and then firmly hold on to self-attentiveness, as Bhagavan explains in the first half of the sixth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?:

நானார் என்னும் விசாரணையினாலேயே மன மடங்கும்; நானார் என்னும் நினைவு மற்ற நினைவுகளை யெல்லா மழித்துப் பிணஞ்சுடு தடிபோல் முடிவில் தானு மழியும். பிற வெண்ணங்க ளெழுந்தா லவற்றைப் பூர்த்தி பண்ணுவதற்கு எத்தனியாமல் அவை யாருக் குண்டாயின என்று விசாரிக்க வேண்டும். எத்தனை எண்ணங்க ளெழினு மென்ன? ஜாக்கிரதையாய் ஒவ்வோ ரெண்ணமும் கிளம்பும்போதே இது யாருக்குண்டாயிற்று என்று விசாரித்தால் எனக்கென்று தோன்றும். நானார் என்று விசாரித்தால் மனம் தன் பிறப்பிடத்திற்குத் திரும்பிவிடும்; எழுந்த வெண்ணமு மடங்கிவிடும். இப்படிப் பழகப் பழக மனத்திற்குத் தன் பிறப்பிடத்திற் றங்கி நிற்கும் சக்தி யதிகரிக்கின்றது.

nāṉ-ār eṉṉum vicāraṇaiyiṉāl-ē-y-ē maṉam aḍaṅgum; nāṉ-ār eṉṉum niṉaivu maṯṟa niṉaivugaḷai y-ellām aṙittu-p piṇañ-cuḍu taḍi-pōl muḍivil tāṉ-um aṙiyum. piṟa v-eṇṇaṅgaḷ eṙundāl avaṯṟai-p pūrtti paṇṇuvadaṯku ettaṉiyāmal avai yārukku uṇḍāyiṉa eṉḏṟu vicārikka vēṇḍum. ettaṉai eṇṇaṅgaḷ eṙiṉum eṉṉa? jāggirataiyāy ovvōr eṇṇamum kiḷambum-pōdē idu yārukku uṇḍāyiṯṟu eṉḏṟu vicārittāl eṉakkeṉḏṟu tōṉḏṟum. nāṉ-ār eṉḏṟu vicārittāl maṉam taṉ piṟappiḍattiṯku-t tirumbi-viḍum; eṙunda v-eṇṇamum aḍaṅgi-viḍum. ippaḍi-p paṙaga-p paṙaga maṉattiṯku-t taṉ piṟappiḍattil taṅgi niṯkum śakti y-adhikarikkiṉḏṟadu.

Only by the investigation who am I will the mind cease; the thought who am I, destroying all other thoughts, will itself also in the end be destroyed like a corpse-burning stick. If other thoughts rise, without trying to complete them it is necessary to investigate to whom they have occurred. However many thoughts rise, so what? Vigilantly, as soon as each thought emerges, if one investigates to whom it has occurred, it will be clear: to me. If one investigates who am I, the mind will return to its birthplace; the thought that had risen will also cease. When one practises and practises in this manner, for the mind the power to stand firmly established in its birthplace increases.

As defined by Bhagavan in the sixteenth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?, self-investigation (ātma-vicāra) is ‘சதாகாலமும் மனத்தை ஆத்மாவில் வைத்திருப்பது’ (sadā-kālam-um maṉattai ātmāvil vaittiruppadu), ‘always keeping the mind on oneself’, so this definition applies equally to ‘நானார் என்னும் விசாரணை’ (nāṉ-ār eṉṉum vicāraṇai), ‘the investigation who am I’, which is a synonym of ātma-vicāra. Therefore the first sentence of this passage, ‘நானார் என்னும் விசாரணையினாலேயே மன மடங்கும்’ (nāṉ-ār eṉṉum vicāraṇaiyiṉāl-ē-y-ē maṉam aḍaṅgum), ‘Only by the investigation who am I will the mind cease [or subside forever]’, implies that annihilation of mind (manōnāśa) can be achieved only by keeping our mind or attention always fixed firmly on our own being, ‘I am’.

When we think of something or meditate on it, we are directing our mind or attention towards it, so since ātma-vicāra is directing our mind towards ourself, Bhagavan sometimes referred to it metaphorically as ‘thinking of ourself’ or ‘meditating on ourself’. For example, in the thirteenth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār? he uses the term ‘ஆன்மசிந்தனை’ (āṉma-cintaṉai), ‘self-thought’ or ‘thought of oneself’, and in the tenth paragraph he uses the term ‘சொரூபத்யானம்’ (sorūpa-dhyāṉam), ‘self-meditation’, ‘self-contemplation’ or ‘meditation on svarūpa’ (in which ‘svarūpa’ means ‘one’s own real nature’, thereby implying ourself as we actually are), and in both these cases these terms imply self-attentiveness, which is self-investigation (ātma-vicāra). Likewise, in the second sentence of this sixth paragraph he uses the term ‘நானார் என்னும் நினைவு’ (nāṉ-ār eṉṉum niṉaivu), ‘the thought who am I’, as a synonym for ‘நானார் என்னும் விசாரணை’ (nāṉ-ār eṉṉum vicāraṇai), ‘the investigation who am I’, so it implies being self-attentive.

However, it is important to understand that whenever he uses a term that means ‘thought’ or ‘meditation’ to refer to ātma-vicāra, he uses them metaphorically, because thinking of or meditating on anything other than ourself is a mental activity, whereas attending to (‘thinking of’ or ‘meditating on’) ourself is a cessation of mental activity, since we as ego subside to the extent to which we attend to ourself, and hence all our mental activities subside along with us. Therefore ātma-vicāra is not literally a ‘thought’ or ‘meditation’ in the usual sense of a mental activity, even though it can be referred to metaphorically as ‘thought’ or ‘meditation’.

Therefore what Bhagavan implies in the second sentence of this sixth paragraph, ‘நானார் என்னும் நினைவு மற்ற நினைவுகளை யெல்லா மழித்துப் பிணஞ்சுடு தடிபோல் முடிவில் தானு மழியும்’ (nāṉ-ār eṉṉum niṉaivu maṯṟa niṉaivugaḷai y-ellām aṙittu-p piṇañ-cuḍu taḍi-pōl muḍivil tāṉ-um aṙiyum), ‘the thought who am I, destroying all other thoughts, will itself also in the end be destroyed like a corpse-burning stick’, is firstly that self-attentiveness will destroy all thoughts, including ego, which is the first thought and the root of all other thoughts, and secondly that by destroying ego, it will itself be destroyed like ‘பிணஞ்சுடு தடி’ (piṇañ-cuḍu taḍi), ‘a corpse-burning stick’, namely a stick that is used to stir a funeral pyre to ensure that the corpse is burnt completely. That is, attention is a function of the mind, because it is a focussing of our mind or awareness on something, and what attends to anything is ego, which is the knowing element of the mind, being the only element of it that is endowed with awareness, so when ego is destroyed in the fire of pure awareness, all its thoughts and its attention, including the attention it had focussed on itself, will be destroyed along with it, and what will then remain is only pure awareness, which is what we always actually are.

Whereas ‘நானார் என்று விசாரிப்பது’ (nāṉ-ār eṉḏṟu vicārippadu), ‘investigating who am I’, means keeping our mind fixed firmly on ourself, ‘யாருக்கு என்று விசாரிப்பது’ (yārukku eṉḏṟu vicārippadu), ‘investigating to whom’, means turning our mind back to ourself, the one to whom all other things appear, whenever it is diverted away from ourself towards anything else. Therefore the third sentence of this sixth paragraph, ‘பிற வெண்ணங்க ளெழுந்தா லவற்றைப் பூர்த்தி பண்ணுவதற்கு எத்தனியாமல் அவை யாருக் குண்டாயின என்று விசாரிக்க வேண்டும்’ (piṟa v-eṇṇaṅgaḷ eṙundāl avaṯṟai-p pūrtti paṇṇuvadaṯku ettaṉiyāmal avai yārukku uṇḍāyiṉa eṉḏṟu vicārikka vēṇḍum), ‘If other thoughts rise, without trying to complete them it is necessary to investigate to whom they have occurred’, implies that whenever our attention is diverted away from ourself towards thoughts of other things, we should not allow it to dwell on such thoughts but should turn our attention back to ourself, the one to whom all such thoughts appear.

That is, every thought that arises should remind us to attend to ourself, so we should not be concerned about the appearance of thoughts but should be intent only on turning our attention back to ourself and keeping it fixed there. This is why in the next sentence Bhagavan asks rhetorically, ‘எத்தனை எண்ணங்க ளெழினு மென்ன?’ (ettaṉai eṇṇaṅgaḷ eṙiṉum eṉṉa?), ‘However many thoughts rise, so what?’, because if we are concerned about the rising of thoughts, we are attending to them and not to ourself. Since no thoughts can appear unless we attend to them, to the extent to which we attend to ourself, we are thereby not giving them room to appear.

It is important to understand here that what Bhagavan means by words that mean ‘thoughts’, such as ‘நினைவுகள்’ (niṉaivugaḷ) and ‘எண்ணங்கள்’ (eṇṇaṅgaḷ), is not just mental chatter but phenomena of any kind whatsoever, because according to his teachings all phenomena are mental phenomena, and mental phenomena are what he means by ‘thoughts’. In other words, everything other than pure being-awareness (sat-cit) is a thought, so as he says in the fourth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?, ‘நினைவுகளைத் தவிர்த்து ஜகமென்றோர் பொருள் அன்னியமா யில்லை’ (niṉaivugaḷai-t tavirttu jagam-eṉḏṟōr poruḷ aṉṉiyamāy illai), ‘Excluding thoughts, there is not separately any such thing as world’, and in the fourteenth paragraph, ‘ஜக மென்பது நினைவே’ (jagam eṉbadu niṉaivē), ‘What is called the world is only thought’. Therefore when he says ‘பிற வெண்ணங்க ளெழுந்தால்’ (piṟa v-eṇṇaṅgaḷ eṙundāl), ‘if other thoughts rise’, what he means is ‘if anything other than oneself appears’.

In order to turn our attention back to ourself whenever it begins to wander away towards anything else, we need to be extremely vigilant, as he implies by the adverb ‘ஜாக்கிரதையாய்’ (jāggirataiyāy), ‘wakefully’, ‘watchfully’, ‘vigilantly’, ‘alertly’ or ‘carefully’, at the beginning of the fifth sentence of this sixth paragraph: ‘ஜாக்கிரதையாய் ஒவ்வோ ரெண்ணமும் கிளம்பும்போதே இது யாருக்குண்டாயிற்று என்று விசாரித்தால் எனக்கென்று தோன்றும்’ (jāggirataiyāy ovvōr eṇṇamum kiḷambum-pōdē idu yārukku uṇḍāyiṯṟu eṉḏṟu vicārittāl eṉakkeṉḏṟu tōṉḏṟum), ‘Vigilantly, as soon as each thought emerges, if one investigates to whom it has occurred, it will be clear: to me’. Here ‘ஜாக்கிரதையாய்’ (jāggirataiyāy), ‘vigilantly’, implies that we need to be vigilantly self-attentive, because if we are not sufficiently vigilant, our attention will be carried away by other thoughts before we notice that we have begun to lose our hold on self-attentiveness. If we are sufficiently vigilant, we will notice as soon as our self-attentiveness begins to slacken, thereby giving room to the rising of other thoughts, and as soon as we notice this, we should turn our attention back to ourself, the one to whom those other thoughts have appeared. Whenever we turn our attention back in this way, what will become clear is the ‘me’ to whom everything else appears, as he implies by saying ‘எனக்கென்று தோன்றும்’ (eṉakkeṉḏṟu tōṉḏṟum), ‘it will be known as to me’ or ‘it will be clear: to me’.

Once this ‘me’ to whom everything else appears becomes clear, we should vigilantly hold on to it, thereby not allowing our attention to be diverted away towards anything else, and if we do so, our self-attentive mind will thereby subside back into our being, which is its ‘birthplace’, the source from which it had arisen, as he says in the next sentence: ‘நானார் என்று விசாரித்தால் மனம் தன் பிறப்பிடத்திற்குத் திரும்பிவிடும்’ (nāṉ-ār eṉḏṟu vicārittāl maṉam taṉ piṟappiḍattiṯku-t tirumbi-viḍum), ‘If one investigates who am I, the mind will return to its birthplace’.

As explained above, whereas ‘யாருக்கு என்று விசாரிப்பது’ (yārukku eṉḏṟu vicārippadu), ‘investigating to whom’, means turning our attention back to ourself, the one to whom all other things appear, whenever it is diverted away towards anything else, ‘நானார் என்று விசாரிப்பது’ (nāṉ-ār eṉḏṟu vicārippadu), ‘investigating who am I’, means keeping our attention fixed firmly on ourself once we have turned it back. Therefore these two sentences, ‘ஜாக்கிரதையாய் ஒவ்வோ ரெண்ணமும் கிளம்பும்போதே இது யாருக்குண்டாயிற்று என்று விசாரித்தால் எனக்கென்று தோன்றும். நானார் என்று விசாரித்தால் மனம் தன் பிறப்பிடத்திற்குத் திரும்பிவிடும்’ (jāggirataiyāy ovvōr eṇṇamum kiḷambum-pōdē idu yārukku uṇḍāyiṯṟu eṉḏṟu vicārittāl eṉakkeṉḏṟu tōṉḏṟum. nāṉ-ār eṉḏṟu vicārittāl maṉam taṉ piṟappiḍattiṯku-t tirumbi-viḍum), ‘Vigilantly, as soon as each thought emerges, if one investigates to whom it has occurred, it will be clear: to me. If one investigates who am I, the mind will return to its birthplace’, should not be taken to imply two distinct investigations or forms of investigation, but should be understood to be a description of the single seamless process of turning it back to ourself and then keeping it firmly fixed on ourself.

As a result of this seamless process, ‘மனம் தன் பிறப்பிடத்திற்குத் திரும்பிவிடும்’ (maṉam taṉ piṟappiḍattiṯku-t tirumbi-viḍum), ‘the mind will return to its birthplace’, meaning that it will subside back into the source from which it had risen, namely our own very being, our fundamental awareness ‘I am’, and hence ‘எழுந்த வெண்ணமு மடங்கிவிடும்’ (eṙunda v-eṇṇamum aḍaṅgi-viḍum), ‘the thought that had risen will also cease’, meaning that whatever had appeared when our attention was diverted away from ourself will cease to exist, because no such things can exist independent of the mind’s awareness of them, so when the mind subsides everything else will subside along with it.

By persistently and repeatedly practising this seamless process of turning our attention back to ourself whenever it is diverted away towards anything else, and then trying our best to keep it fixed firmly on ourself, our ability to hold on to self-attentiveness unwaveringly and thereby remain subsided in our being will increase, as he says in the next sentence: ‘இப்படிப் பழகப் பழக மனத்திற்குத் தன் பிறப்பிடத்திற் றங்கி நிற்கும் சக்தி யதிகரிக்கின்றது’ (ippaḍi-p paṙaga-p paṙaga maṉattiṯku-t taṉ piṟappiḍattil taṅgi niṯkum śakti y-adhikarikkiṉḏṟadu), ‘When one practises and practises in this manner, for the mind the power to stand firmly established in its birthplace increases’.

‘தன் பிறப்பிடத்திற் றங்கி நிற்கும் சக்தி’ (taṉ piṟappiḍattil taṅgi niṯkum śakti), ‘the power to stand firmly established in its birthplace’, is the power of love to be as we actually are without rising as ego to know or experience anything else. This love to be as we actually are is what is called sat-vāsanā, the inclination to just be, and it can be strengthened only by patient and persistent practice of self-attentiveness.

That is, as explained above, vāsanās (volitional inclinations) derive their strength from us to the extent to which we allow ourself to be swayed by them, so the way to strengthen any vāsanā is to allow ourself to be swayed by it, and the way to weaken it is to refrain from being swayed by it. When we are self-attentive, we are so under the sway of sat-vāsanā, so we are thereby strengthening it, and hence the only way to strengthen our sat-vāsanā is to persevere repeatedly in practising self-attentiveness, as Bhagavan implies by saying: ‘இப்படிப் பழகப் பழக மனத்திற்குத் தன் பிறப்பிடத்திற் றங்கி நிற்கும் சக்தி யதிகரிக்கின்றது’ (ippaḍi-p paṙaga-p paṙaga maṉattiṯku-t taṉ piṟappiḍattil taṅgi niṯkum śakti y-adhikarikkiṉḏṟadu), ‘When one practises and practises in this manner, for the mind the power to stand firmly established in its birthplace increases’.

When we persistently try to be self-attentive, we are not only strengthening our sat-vāsanā but also weakening all our viṣaya-vāsanās (inclinations to seek happiness or satisfaction in objects or phenomena), because while we are self-attentive we are thereby not allowing ourself to be swayed by any viṣaya-vāsanās, as Bhagavan implies in the tenth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?:

தொன்றுதொட்டு வருகின்ற விஷயவாசனைகள் அளவற்றனவாய்க் கடலலைகள் போற் றோன்றினும் அவையாவும் சொரூபத்யானம் கிளம்பக் கிளம்ப அழிந்துவிடும். அத்தனை வாசனைகளு மொடுங்கி, சொரூபமாத்திரமா யிருக்க முடியுமா வென்னும் சந்தேக நினைவுக்கு மிடங்கொடாமல், சொரூபத்யானத்தை விடாப்பிடியாய்ப் பிடிக்க வேண்டும். ஒருவன் எவ்வளவு பாபியாயிருந்தாலும், ‘நான் பாபியா யிருக்கிறேனே! எப்படிக் கடைத்தேறப் போகிறே’ னென்றேங்கி யழுதுகொண்டிராமல், தான் பாபி என்னு மெண்ணத்தையு மறவே யொழித்து சொரூபத்யானத்தி லூக்க முள்ளவனாக விருந்தால் அவன் நிச்சயமா யுருப்படுவான்.

toṉḏṟutoṭṭu varugiṉḏṟa viṣaya-vāsaṉaigaḷ aḷavaṯṟaṉavāy-k kaḍal-alaigaḷ pōl tōṉḏṟiṉum avai-yāvum sorūpa-dhyāṉam kiḷamba-k kiḷamba aṙindu-viḍum. attaṉai vāsaṉaigaḷum oḍuṅgi, sorūpa-māttiram-āy irukka muḍiyumā v-eṉṉum sandēha niṉaivukkum iḍam koḍāmal, sorūpa-dhyāṉattai viḍā-p-piḍiyāy-p piḍikka vēṇḍum. oruvaṉ evvaḷavu pāpiyāy irundālum, ‘nāṉ pāpiyāy irukkiṟēṉē; eppaḍi-k kaḍaittēṟa-p pōkiṟēṉ’ eṉḏṟēṅgi y-aṙudu-koṇḍirāmal, tāṉ pāpi eṉṉum eṇṇattaiyum aṟavē y-oṙittu sorūpa-dhyāṉattil ūkkam uḷḷavaṉāha v-irundāl avaṉ niścayamāy uru-p-paḍuvāṉ.

Even though viṣaya-vāsanās, which come from time immemorial, rise in countless numbers like ocean-waves, they will all be destroyed when svarūpa-dhyāna [self-attentiveness] increases and increases. Without giving room even to the doubting thought ‘So many vāsanās ceasing, is it possible to be only as svarūpa [myself as I actually am]?’ it is necessary to cling tenaciously to svarūpa-dhyāna. However great a sinner one may be, if instead of lamenting and weeping ‘I am a sinner! How am I going to be saved?’ one completely rejects the thought that one is a sinner and is steadfast in self-attentiveness, one will certainly be reformed [transformed from rising as ego to being as svarūpa].

Since we weaken our viṣaya-vāsanās and strengthen our sat-vāsanā by this practice of self-attentiveness, if we persevere in trying to be self-attentive as much as possible, we will eventually reach a point where our sat-vāsanā will become stronger than all our viṣaya-vāsanās, and it is only then that we will have sufficient love to surrender ourself completely by clinging to self-attentiveness so firmly that we thereby subside completely and dissolve forever in svarūpa, our own being, our fundamental awareness ‘I am’, which is our ‘birthplace’ (piṟappiḍam), the source from which we have risen as ego. This final dissolution of ourself in pure being-awareness (sat-cit) is the complete eradication of ego, otherwise called manōnāśa (annihilation of the mind). Since all vāsanās are ego’s volitional inclinations, none of them can survive the eradication of ego, so its eradication is also called vāsanākṣaya (destruction of vāsanās). Therefore so long as viṣaya-vāsanās remain even to the slightest extent, ego has not yet been eradicated, so we as ego need to persevere in our practice of self-attentiveness, as Bhagavan says in the eleventh paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?:

மனத்தின்கண் எதுவரையில் விஷயவாசனைக ளிருக்கின்றனவோ, அதுவரையில் நானா ரென்னும் விசாரணையும் வேண்டும். நினைவுகள் தோன்றத் தோன்ற அப்போதைக்கப்போதே அவைகளையெல்லாம் உற்பத்திஸ்தானத்திலேயே விசாரணையால் நசிப்பிக்க வேண்டும். அன்னியத்தை நாடாதிருத்தல் வைராக்கியம் அல்லது நிராசை; தன்னை விடாதிருத்தல் ஞானம். உண்மையி லிரண்டு மொன்றே. முத்துக்குளிப்போர் தம்மிடையிற் கல்லைக் கட்டிக்கொண்டு மூழ்கிக் கடலடியிற் கிடைக்கும் முத்தை எப்படி எடுக்கிறார்களோ, அப்படியே ஒவ்வொருவனும் வைராக்கியத்துடன் தன்னுள் ளாழ்ந்து மூழ்கி ஆத்மமுத்தை யடையலாம். ஒருவன் தான் சொரூபத்தை யடையும் வரையில் நிரந்தர சொரூப ஸ்மரணையைக் கைப்பற்றுவானாயின் அதுவொன்றே போதும். கோட்டைக்குள் எதிரிக ளுள்ளவரையில் அதிலிருந்து வெளியே வந்துகொண்டே யிருப்பார்கள். வர வர அவர்களையெல்லாம் வெட்டிக்கொண்டே யிருந்தால் கோட்டை கைவசப்படும்.

maṉattiṉgaṇ edu-varaiyil viṣaya-vāsaṉaigaḷ irukkiṉḏṟaṉavō, adu-varaiyil nāṉ-ār eṉṉum vicāraṇai-y-um vēṇḍum. niṉaivugaḷ tōṉḏṟa-t tōṉḏṟa appōdaikkappōdē avaigaḷai-y-ellām uṯpatti-sthāṉattilēyē vicāraṇaiyāl naśippikka vēṇḍum. aṉṉiyattai nāḍādiruttal vairāggiyam alladu nirāśai; taṉṉai viḍādiruttal ñāṉam. uṇmaiyil iraṇḍum oṉḏṟē. muttu-k-kuḷippōr tam-m-iḍaiyil kallai-k kaṭṭi-k-koṇḍu mūṙki-k kaḍal-aḍiyil kiḍaikkum muttai eppaḍi eḍukkiṟārgaḷō, appaḍiyē o-vv-oruvaṉum vairāggiyattuḍaṉ taṉṉuḷ ḷ-āṙndu mūṙki ātma-muttai y-aḍaiyalām. oruvaṉ tāṉ sorūpattai y-aḍaiyum varaiyil nirantara sorūpa-smaraṇaiyai-k kai-p-paṯṟuvāṉ-āyiṉ adu-v-oṉḏṟē pōdum. kōṭṭaikkuḷ edirigaḷ uḷḷa-varaiyil adilirundu veḷiyē vandu-koṇḍē y-iruppārgaḷ. vara vara avargaḷai-y-ellām veṭṭi-k-koṇḍē y-irundāl kōṭṭai kaivaśa-p-paḍum.

As long as viṣaya-vāsanās exist within the mind, so long is the investigation who am I necessary. As and when thoughts appear, then and there it is necessary to annihilate them all by vicāraṇā [investigation or keen self-attentiveness] in the very place from which they arise. Not attending to anything other [than oneself] is vairāgya [dispassion or detachment] or nirāśā [desirelessness]; not leaving [or letting go of] oneself is jñāna [true knowledge or real awareness]. In truth [these] two [vairāgya and jñāna] are just one. Just as pearl-divers, tying stones to their waists and sinking, pick up pearls that are found at the bottom of the ocean, so each one, sinking deep within oneself with vairāgya [freedom from desire to be aware of anything other than oneself], may attain ātma-muttu [the ‘self-pearl’, namely ātma-svarūpa, the real nature of oneself]. Until one attains svarūpa, if one clings fast to uninterrupted svarūpa-smaraṇa [self-remembrance], that alone is sufficient. So long as enemies are within the fortress, they will be continuously coming out from it. If one is continuously cutting all of them down as and when they come, the fortress will [eventually] be captured.

Here ‘கோட்டை’ (kōṭṭai), ‘fortress’, is a metaphor for the heart, the deep centre of oneself, and the ‘எதிரிகள்’ (edirigaḷ), ‘enemies’, in it are a metaphor for the army of viṣaya-vāsanās that are constantly rising from within. If we hold fast to self-attentiveness, we will thereby be cutting down this army, meaning that we will be steadily weakening it, while simultaneously strengthening its opponent, namely our sat-vāsanā, our love for knowing and being what we actually are. Therefore if we persevere in being steadfastly self-attentive, we will thereby eventually capture the fortress, meaning that we will vanquish the army of viṣaya-vāsanās along with ego, its commander-in-chief, and thereby restore ourself to our natural state of being as we always actually are.

The key to success in this battle is wholehearted and all-consuming love to be as we actually are, and this love can be nurtured and nourished within us only by patient and persistent practice of self-attentiveness.

14. The love required to know and to be what we actually are sprouts and is nurtured in our heart by grace

As Bhagavan points out in verse 25 of Uḷḷadu Nāṟpadu, the nature of ego is to ‘grasp form’, meaning to constantly attend to and be aware of things other than itself, because without ‘grasping form’ in this way, ego cannot rise, stand or flourish. Therefore, since ego cannot survive or thrive without constantly ‘grasping form’, and since ‘form’ means viṣayas (objects or phenomena), having strong viṣaya-vāsanās (inclinations to grasp forms or viṣayas) is the very nature of ego.

Having sat-vāsanā (inclination to grasp our own being), on the other hand, is contrary to the nature of ego, because to the extent to which we grasp our own being, which is the formless awareness ‘I am’, we as ego will subside and dissolve back into our being forever, thereby eradicating ego and all its progeny, namely all forms or phenomena (viṣayas), which seem to exist only in the view of ourself as ego. Therefore, from where does sat-vāsanā originate? Whereas viṣaya-vāsanās originate from ego, because having such vāsanās is its nature, sat-vāsanā cannot originate from ego, because having this vāsanā is contrary to its nature. Therefore, whereas ego is the cause and origin of all viṣaya-vāsanās, the cause and origin of sat-vāsanā must be something that exists independent of ego, namely ātma-svarūpa, which is ourself as we actually are.

However, since ātma-svarūpa is pure being-awareness (sat-cit), how can it be the cause of anything? It may be the cause in the sense of upādāna kāraṇa (‘material’ or substantial cause), because it is the one real substance of which all other things are an appearance (in other words, it is the one thing that appears as all other things), but it cannot be a nimitta kāraṇa (efficient cause), because being a nimitta kāraṇa entails doing something, and ātma-svarūpa is pure being and therefore never does anything. In what sense, therefore, can ātma-svarūpa be the cause of sat-vāsanā?

As Bhagavan points out in the first paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?, ‘யாவருக்கும் தன்னிடத்திலேயே பரம பிரிய மிருப்பது’ (yāvarukkum taṉ-ṉ-iḍattil-ē-y-ē parama piriyam iruppadu), ‘for everyone the greatest love is only for oneself’, and the reason why we all naturally love ourself is that self-love is the very nature of ātma-svarūpa. That is, since ātma-svarūpa is not only infinite being (sat) and infinite awareness (cit) but also infinite happiness (ānanda), and since ‘பிரியத்திற்கு சுகமே காரணம்’ (piriyattiṯku sukham-ē kāraṇam), ‘happiness alone is the cause for love’, as he points out in the next clause of the same sentence, ātma-svarūpa naturally has infinite love for itself. In fact, it is love itself.

Therefore, since ātma-svarūpa is what we actually are, the love that we as ego naturally have for ourself is an inevitable reflection of the infinite love that we as we actually are have for ourself as we actually are. As ego we are aware of ourself as ‘I am this body’, so we seem to be something other than the infinite being-awareness (sat-cit) that we actually are, but in the clear view of sat-cit there is no such separation or otherness, so it does not see us as anything other than itself, and hence it loves us as itself. This infinite love that we as we actually are have for ourself as we actually are is what we as ego experience as divine grace.

That is, sat-cit is the reality of both God and guru, so what is called the grace of God or guru is nothing but the infinite love that sat-cit has for us as itself. Therefore, since God or guru loves us as itself, the will of God or guru is that we should be infinitely happy, as it itself is, and in order for us to be infinitely happy, all that is required is that we cease rising as ego and thereby remain as we always actually are, namely as infinite love, which is sat-cit-ānanda, pure being-awareness-happiness.

In order for us to know and to be what we actually are, thereby ceasing to rise as ego ever again, we must have whole-hearted and all-consuming love to surrender ourself completely and thereby be as we actually are, and the seed that sprouts and matures into such love is sat-vāsanā. Therefore sat-vāsanā is the seed of love that is sown and nurtured in our heart by divine grace, which is the infinite love that God or guru has for us as itself.

Since infinite love is the very nature of God or guru, it need not do anything in order to sow and nurture this seed in our heart. Just by being as it is, without ever doing anything, it does everything that needs to be done. In other words, everything happens as it is meant to happen just by God being the infinite love that he is. This is why Bhagavan used to say that God does everything without ever doing anything, or as he expressed it in the fifteenth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?, all the pañcakṛtyas (the five divine functions, namely creation, sustenance, dissolution, concealment and grace) happen ‘ஈசன் சன்னிதான விசேஷ மாத்திரத்தால்’ (īśaṉ saṉṉidhāṉa-viśēṣa-māttirattāl), ‘by just [or nothing more than] the special nature of the presence of God’, because ‘ஒரு கருமமு மவரை யொட்டாது’ (oru karumamum avarai y-oṭṭādu), ‘even one karma [action] does not adhere to him’, since he is pure being and therefore never does anything.

Therefore, as Bhagavan sometimes reminded us, grace is not something that will one day descend on us from above, but always exists in our heart as our own being, ‘I am’, so to avail ourself of its ever-available help, all we need do is turn within and lovingly attend to our own being. Since we can turn within and be self-attentive only under the sway of sat-vāsanā, and since sat-vāsanā is sown and nurtured in our heart only by grace, even our making effort to turn within and be self-attentive happens only by grace working in our heart in the form of sat-vāsanā, the love to know and to be what we actually are.

This is why Bhagavan used to say that grace is the beginning, the middle and the end. Grace is what attracts us to this path of self-investigation and self-surrender in the first place; it is what gives us the clarity and love to follow this path (meaning that it is what thereby guides us from within and nurtures and sustains our motivation); and eventually it is what will swallow us entirely in its infinite clarity of pure awareness.

Therefore we can always rely on the ever-available help and guidance of grace, but since it must work through us, we need to yield ourself to it by always trying our best to follow this path of self-investigation and self-surrender, as Bhagavan simultaneously assures and cautions us in the twelfth paragraph of Nāṉ Ār?:

கடவுளும் குருவும் உண்மையில் வேறல்லர். புலிவாயிற் பட்டது எவ்வாறு திரும்பாதோ, அவ்வாறே குருவினருட்பார்வையிற் பட்டவர்கள் அவரால் ரக்ஷிக்கப்படுவரே யன்றி யொருக்காலும் கைவிடப்படார்; எனினும், குரு காட்டிய வழிப்படி தவறாது நடக்க வேண்டும்.

kaḍavuḷ-um guru-v-um uṇmaiyil vēṟallar. puli-vāyil paṭṭadu evvāṟu tirumbādō, avvāṟē guruviṉ-aruḷ-pārvaiyil paṭṭavargaḷ avarāl rakṣikka-p-paḍuvarē y-aṉḏṟi y-oru-k-kāl-um kaiviḍa-p-paḍār; eṉiṉum, guru kāṭṭiya vaṙi-p-paḍi tavaṟādu naḍakka vēṇḍum.

God and guru are in truth not different. Just as what has been caught in the jaws of a tiger will not return, so those who have been caught in the look [or glance] of guru’s grace will never be forsaken but will surely be saved by him; nevertheless, it is necessary to walk unfailingly in accordance with the path that guru has shown.

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