Ananya Sri Ram – USA
Ananya, the author, is the Director of the Krotona School of Theosophy
Through the centuries, stories and fables have been used to teach us lessons about the many facets of life. Our spiritual life is no different. Religions around the world each have their own version of a particular lesson that is taught through the lens of that faith. The concept of the relativity and absoluteness of reality or the unreal and real is one such lesson. We can easily say “all is maya,” or “to know the Way, is not the Way,” and so on, but if we truly were able to grasp living according to the rhythms and laws of the One life, our world would be very different. We feel we know that which is considered Real, but the illusion we follow called life is so insidious, we often find ourselves caught in the raging waters of a river heading out to sea, struggling to hang on to anything that may “save” us.
One story that reveals the chimeric nature of reality is about Narada, the Hindu devotee, and his question to Krishna about the nature of Maya. The story comes from the Bhagavata Puranas and is much longer than the shortened version that many have heard today. Unfortunately, the whole tale cannot be told here either, but the details of the story matter because our life in the material world is colored by the details and our attachment to them. The story is related as such:
Narada while conversing with Krishna, an incarnation of Vishnu, asks him about the nature of Maya, or illusion. In some stories it is stated that Narada says he has never experienced Maya. Krishna asks Narada to have a bath in the nearby river. It is there that Narada’s body changes form from a man to a woman. As a woman, Narada is seen bathing in the river by a prince. The two fall in love and marry. Narada experiences wealth, power, and after a few years, the joy of being a mother to children. Years pass and there is a flood. The family’s safety is threatened and Narada tries to save her children, but one by one they are overcome by the water and drown. As the water is about to take Narada’s life, he once again finds himself standing in the water of the river with Krishna. Little time has passed. Looking at Krishna, Narada is bewildered. Krishna gently smiles and says, “This, Narada, is Maya.”
This story shows us how quickly change can happen as well as how quickly we can get used to something. We have a goal or a desire to be or know something, and forces takes us in a different direction. Like the water that surrounds Narada while bathing in the river, the unreality of life envelopes us. We do not seem to realize it until we are awakened by some major event or insight. Once this shake up happens, there is a shift in our perception. The shift changes how we perceive time. For many it slows down and stretches out. Those who have experienced the death of a loved one often speak of this. Life stands still for them. They are lost in liminality due to either the heartbreak or shock—or perhaps both. The same can be experienced when one’s consciousness is shifted dimensionally during meditation. One may feel hours have passed when it has only been ten minutes.
Another aspect to this story is how real everything was for Narada in those few moments. And yet, he was just standing there in the presence of Krishna, a Being who is beyond time and space. In some ways, Krishna represents the present moment. One could say that this story shows us the lesson that while there is just this one Reality, there are two perspectives to it—one being the present moment and the other being the relativity of time created by the myriads of moments, memories and thoughts that make up our conditioning. It is this conditioning that our personal selves cling to so desperately because it defines who we think we are.
The question arises: Can we ever truly be? There is a quote from The Secret Doctrine Vol 2 that states:
The Present is the child of the past; the Future, the begotten of the Present. And yet O Present Moment! Knowest thou not that thou hast no parent, nor canst thou have a child; that thou art ever begetting but thyself? Before thou hast even begun to say, ‘I am the progeny of the departed moment, the child of the past,’ thou hast become that past itself. Before thou utterest the last syllable, behold! Thou art no more the present but verily that future. Thus, are the Past, the Present, and the Future the ever-living trinity in one – the Mahamaya of the Absolute IS.
What are we then? Are we just conscious beings with a supposedly more evolved intelligence that live from one present moment to the next? Is that how we truly are to be? And if so, what is it that has made humans insufferable, at times, that we are so caught in our own delusions? What is it that we are afraid of, preventing us from letting go of the illusion?
One veil we live by is time. We live as though we were born with a jar that is filled with an ingredient called “time.” We say “I only have so much time,” or “I need more time,” or we ‘exchange’ time for money. But no matter what we do, we will never be able to actually buy time, monetarily or otherwise. Granted, humans have created this concept of hourly time based on the rhythms and cycles of nature, but we are no longer living our lives according to natural patterns. In fact, we change clocks/time to be “more productive,” and find ourselves feeling somatically unwell because of it. We schedule our lives so we can “do more,” “be more,” and “have more.” In the end, this all creates more chaos in our lives because it requires more money, more care and attention, and, you guessed it, more time.
What if we let go? Are we willing to even try to let go of the illusion we live by for five minutes a day? There is an exercise I encourage clients to experiment with to help move them beyond the thoughts they have regarding the professional titles they hold, the deadlines for which they neglect their health, the competition that makes them lose sleep, and all the other “should have,” “musts,” and “have to’s,” that run their lives. It is done by simply asking the question: Is this serving you? In other words, is there a feeling of contentment within? There is more to the process, but it starts by asking this question.
In his 1991 talk, “A Mind to Embrace the Universe” , Adam Warcup emphasizes that manas or mind is the crucial ingredient that makes humans self-conscious beings. It enables us to reflect on our own thoughts and actions. It allows us the ability to analyze, ponder, choose, and understand our connections to the choices we make. One of the most striking statements that Warcup makes is that the mind is not a thing, but a process. It is not a noun. It is a verb. The mind is created through a series of instances—which we tend to view as a lump, in a way, and call it time. We view it as a continuum instead of as separate moments that we all know can change in a nanosecond because we see it happen every day.
Would changing our perception from the mind as something tangible that is formed, unmalleable, and crystallized help us recognize the potential we have within us to transform our lives? If we look at the mind as a process, we can see that it can be reworked by changing any one of the various steps that move us toward a particular way of thinking. We see this in our daily lives. For example, a person returns home from work every evening, tired and hungry. The hunger causes them to get angry due to the low blood sugar. In turn, they fight with their partner which causes an upset in their household. A change in any part of the process may make a difference in the evening. The person returning from work might eat a piece of fruit or some nuts on the way home which would increase their energy and keep their blood sugar from dropping, thus reducing their risk of getting angry and then returning home in a better mood. The outcome could completely change the whole evening for the individual and their partner.
The mind is no different. Breaking it down to instances of encounters and experiences, may allow us to perceive things in a lighter but deeper fashion. Perhaps we would not hold on so tightly to the events around us but see the present nature within each moment and truly connect with what is happening in that instant. It is possible that such an action leads to us relaxing a little bit more into the present moment, which may change our interactions with those around us. We may find there is more “mind space” between our thoughts and reactions. In turn, things tend to slow down and we take pleasure in the happenings around us. We breathe in the play taking place before us, realizing we are Narada, standing in the river with Krishna.