Waves of Devotion

In order to illustrate ways one can gain inspiration to write, a friend described to me a documentary he saw on how the show Seinfeld was created. The main writer, Larry David, would keep a notepad to write down things that would amuse him in his daily personal interactions with people in New York, where he was then living. At the time I was thinking of doing a seminar called Practicing Humility and was stuck as to where to begin. That discussion gave me an idea. Why not just observe my mind for two weeks in relationship to how I respond to thoughts of pride and jot down my realizations?

When I began to formulate the seminar I realized that before I could make a presentation to an audience it would be wise to first confront some basic quandaries that seem to arise in most people seeking to understand the concept of humility. For example, many question the similarity between humility, a virtue, and low self-esteem, a psychological aberration. Other quandaries would also have to be addressed, such as how humility can be congruent with boldness, or healthy self-esteem.

Quandary One: Humility and low self-esteem appear too similar 

Those lacking self-esteem and those who are genuinely humble both feel inconsequential, but their feelings of insignificance are diametrically opposed. A humble person seeks worthiness in love and service and thus the fact of inconsequentiality has no bearing on their self-image as a humble servant. In contrast, a person with low self-esteem has a self-perception of material greatness and thus is disturbed by his self-image as one lacking or not being worthy of honor and prestige. I have thus deemed humility “happy small” and low self-esteem as “unhappy small”.

I thought of an example that best illustrates this seemingly improbable congruence in the concept of humility between feeling powerlessness and having self-worth. A baby feels small and utterly dependent in the arms of his mother, but worthy at the same time, for being a small and needy object of his mother’s love is his highest ideal self. In the same way, a pure soul is not disturbed to be unimportant because being an infinitesimal part of God meant for His service is their dharma, their intrinsic identity and purpose.

We have seen that a humble person may also be at times self-deprecatory, so how is that different from a lack of self-esteem? Although a humble person may naturally feel lacking as a servant of Krishna and condemn himself, he is still basically secure in his core identity, whereas a person with low self-esteem is basically insecure in his present self-image or identity, which weighs heavily on his psyche.

Quandary Two: A person in a high position or a bold person can also be humble

It is certainly a challenge to accept a position of authority and remain humble, but it can be done in the proper consciousness. For example, a spiritual master can accept honor and service from his disciples without making himself feel proud if he trains his students as a service to his own preceptor, and not to be better than others. We all generally have to accept a position of authority, whether as a parent or teacher, but if one is vigilant not to act independent of God’s will in doing so, one’s leadership will foster a mood of service and make one humble, not proud.

Quandary Three: A practicing devotee can have healthy self-esteem in his or her material situation

We can pursue reasonable attachments in Krishna consciousness when they are consistent with bhakti and don’t obscure it. For example, a young lady wanting to find a suitable husband is not against her development of Krishna consciousness. Rather it is usually a better situation for her to do so. In the same way, the development of healthy self-esteem does not have to generate pride or cover bhakti if pursued as a component of the healthy mind needed to support one’s devotion.

Definition and Conclusion

Humility: To happily accept that there is a truth or authority greater than my desires and opinions that I should submit to. Happy small.

Unfortunately, I have run out of my word limit for this Monday Morning Greeting. Stayed tuned for next week’s Greeting entitled: “Practicing Humility Part Two: The Twelve Core Practices”.

“Everyone knew,” Baladeva chuckled. That was my neighbor’s response here in Vasant Falls when I told him that I just got back from the audiologist and I was diagnosed with severe high frequency hearing loss. Of course, it seemed most people noticed. I can’t count how many times people speaking to me heard me respond, “What? What?” and either chuckled or were annoyed.

While in his office the doctor told me that once I get a hearing aid and walk outside, I will hear the singing of birds like I never heard before. I would be amazed, he said. What a good example of classic illusion, not seeing what is actually there! I thus naturally thought about my aural deception through the eyes of śāstra.

The conditioned soul is in illusion

Illusion has two aspects: to see what is not there and not to see what is there. The classic example of illusion is walking in a dark forest and mistakenly seeing a rope as a snake. We are seeing what is not there, a snake, and we are not seeing what is there, a rope.

This is analogous to mistaking the body to be the self. We see the body as our core identity, and we do not recognize that our core identity is the deep self. These two aspects of illusion comprise our ignorance as to who we really are.

Seeing and not seeing Vṛndāvana

When people first come to Vṛndāvana, they may get caught in a traffic jam in front of our temple, hear blaring loud speakers, and see trash strewn and feel disappointed. The first thing I tell such pilgrims is that Vṛndāvana is actually the most beautiful place in the world, but they are not able to see what is actually there at present. To explain the phenomena of imperceptible reality, I give the example of certain high frequency sounds that only a dog can hear. I explain that just as a dog can hear sounds not perceptible to the common man, in the same way a sincere person by the practice of bhakti can perceive the real Vṛndāvana, a realm not visible by our limited senses. I have thus observed that one who comes to Vṛndāvana under the guidance of a senior devotee and stays absorbed in devotion, especially chanting the holy name, rises above illusion and leaves with the impression of having visited one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Of course, I am also happy that there are so many sounds produced in a modern civilization that I can’t hear so well today. Think sound pollution, which comes to my next audiologist realization.

Modern civilization is neither sustainable nor advancing 

I asked the doctor the price of a hearing aid. He said there is a range of price just like with cars, but entry level is $2,000, and it is not covered by health insurance. Did I hear right? What?! I was aghast. How will the truly poor survive in today’s world? I fondly remember the house calls of Dr. Ralph Burke, our family doctor, at $10 a visit. When I was 3 years old I was hospitalized for over a week to remove a benign tumor which my family could afford even on their middle class salary without health insurance. Those were the days.

I had a friend that spent three years studying over 500 books on sustainable economics. I considered him quite a genius in these matters. At the time he shared with me one of his findings that he found in, of all places, a fiscal report by the USA Congressional Budget Office. It described that at the present cost rate the demand for caring for the aged and those who will become aged, including the exorbitant cost of medicine and end of life medical care, may very well bankrupt the US economy in the not too far future unless something is done.

Meditating on what appears to be an oppressive medical/pharmaceutical cartel that seems to be at the root of this $2,000 entry level hearing aid, I remembered one of my favorite Bhaktivedanta purports on a verse in the First Canto of the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam that describes the pastoral beauty of the city of Dvārakā, the capital of Lord Krishna’s kingdom. There Śrīla Prabhupāda describes in contrast how the oppressed modern city dweller lives today. As soon as I got home from the doctor, I looked at that purport again. It was powerful.

“The leaders of modern civilization select their own residential quarters in a place where there are such naturally beautiful gardens and reservoir of water, but they leave the common men to reside in congested areas without parks and gardens. […] Development of factories and mills is called ugra-karma, or pungent activities, and such activities destroy the finer sentiments of the human beings and society to form a dungeon of demons. […] The vested interest flourish at the cost of the working class, and consequently there are severe clashes between them in so many ways […]” (Bhāg. 1.11.12, Purport)

I am looking forward to my hearing aid, but as I leave the office my focus is on conquering a more substantial illusion. I somehow find myself humming Lalasamayi Prarthana:

viṣaya chāriyā kabe śuddha ha ‘be mana
kabe hāma herabo śrī-bṛndābana

“When the mind is completely purified, being freed from all anxieties and desires, only then will I finally see Vṛndāvana.” (V. 3)

The Sanskrit word for “heavy” is guru. Guru means “heavy” because the heaviest thing for a conditioned soul to bear is spiritual knowledge. This is because spiritual knowledge weighs heavily on our attachments. It tells us that some things we like we must relinquish and some things we don’t we must accept. That is the hefty price for sincerely hearing and embracing the truth. The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, the repository for spiritual knowledge, is thus guru, the heaviest book in the world.

Every morning upon rising I try to read the Bhāgavatam for some time. I brace myself for transformation, for if I am not open to hearing the truth, to have my conceptions and attachments challenged, I won’t actually hear the Bhāgavatam. Śrī Jīva Gosvāmī, the tradition’s main theologian, refers to this phenomenon in his Śrī Bhakti-sandarbha.

He quotes the second verse of the Bhāgavatam where Śrī Vyasa claims that by hearing its message just once, Krishna immediately, without delay, appears in one’s heart. Śrī Jīva quotes this verse to raise the question of why this doesn’t happen to us? His answer: One doesn’t hear what one doesn’t like. And because we are antithetical to the book’s theme and ultimate message, which is to fully surrender to guru and Krishna, we don’t actually hear the message of the Bhāgavatam. That’s heavy.

In this way spiritual knowledge acts like a mirror to the false ego. By gazing at our reflection in that message, we see who we actually are, not what we imagine our self to be. How shocking! It’s analogous to the emperor who proudly parades among his subjects in his new clothes, only to realize that he is actually naked. In a similar way, by hearing spiritual knowledge our inflated self-conception is exposed. Is there any wonder, therefore, why we shy away from its weighty message and close our hearts to the full appearance of Śrī Krishna?

Another question naturally arises: if being full of material desires blocks our minds from hearing the Bhāgavatam, then what is the use of hearing the book at all? Śrī Jīva explains that by repeatedly hearing the message of the Bhāgavatam something very wonderful happens. We gradually become purified of our unwanted desires and develop an ardent desire to hear the truth. The message of surrender then progressively becomes our joy and we enter the door of true devotion. Then, instead of weighing on our attachments, each and every word incites rasa, our specific and sweet relationship with Krishna. The heaviest book in the world then becomes the sweetest.

“O expert and thoughtful men, relish Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, the mature fruit of the desire tree of Vedic literatures. It emanated from the lips of Śrī Śukadeva Gosvāmī. Therefore this fruit has become even more tasteful, although its nectarean juice was already relishable for all, including liberated souls.” (Bhāg. 1.1.3)

Every philosophy has a description of what they deem reality (metaphysics) and their prescribed means to understand it (epistemology). In Gauḍīya Vaiṣṇava philosophy, or Krishna consciousness, this is called sambandha-jñāna,[1] or knowledge of relationship. Why is metaphysics in Krishna consciousness called sambandha-jñāna? From my studies and meditation on the subject, I have come up with four reasons.

Reason 1

The most basic reason that metaphysics is called sambandha-jñāna in Gauḍīya theology is that the ultimate aim of metaphysics is to ascertain one’s purpose in life, which is informed or determined by understanding one’s relationship to reality. Understanding where one fits in the metaphysical framework of reality is thus part of understanding one’s purpose in life, or relationship to the truth, and thus appropriately called sambandha-jñāna.

Reason 2

The metaphysics of Gauḍīya philosophy are centered on Krishna and His energies. His energies are basically two: matter and spirit. Reality, therefore, has three components that Śrīla Prabhupāda has aptly described as matter, spirit, and the controller of both (God). Metaphysics is called sambandha-jñāna because to properly understand reality one must understand the sambandha (relationship) between these three basic components of existence.

Sambandha between matter and spirit

If one doesn’t understand the relationship between spirit (the living entity) and matter (the body), which are separate energies, and thinks oneself the body, one will naturally identify as the body, a focus that covers one’s identity or relationship with God.

Sambandha between spirit and God

If one doesn’t understand the relationship between the living entity and God and thinks one is equal to God (impersonalism), then what is the question of worshiping or having a relationship with God?

Sambandha between God and matter

Finally, if one thinks that the relationship between God and matter is that God is material and thus illusory (māyāvāda), then why would one worship or develop a relationship with God?

Thus sambandha-jñāna, knowledge of the interrelationship between matter, spirit, and God is essential for deciphering a proper metaphysics and developing one’s relationship with God.

Reason 3

Another reason why the metaphysics of Krishna consciousness is called sambandha, or knowledge of relationship, is because one cannot clearly understand God and one’s relationship with Him if one does not have a proper understanding of the relationship between the various tattvas, or subjects, in Krishna consciousness.

For example, if one elevates the truth of detachment far too high in comparison with the truth of attachment, then renunciation will falsely become the standard of advancement instead of devotion, the gṛhastha ashram will become belittled and women shunned or disempowered. The same problem arises conversely. When the truth of attachment is overly inflated, one will mistake married life as an item of devotional service and minimize the importance of renunciation. Either way a lack of discernment in properly understanding the relationship between tattvas, whether between detachment and attachment, service and sādhana, or any other such imbalance in judgment, will certainly cloud one’s understanding of Krishna and our relationship with Him. In this way also, sambandha-jñāna is an appropriate designation for metaphysics.

Conclusion

In the Bhakti-sandarbha sambanda-jñāna is called siddhopadesh,[2] which means knowledge that implies perfection. The appellation is quite suitable, as once one has the proper metaphysical understanding in Krishna consciousness it will automatically lead to the means to realize truth (abhidheya-jñāna) and the goal of doing so (prayojana-jñāna), just as knowing where a treasure rests will easily lead one to understand the means to extract it and the goal of acquiring it. As sambandha-jñāna, proper metaphysical knowledge, is the basis of achieving perfection, it is the substantial majority of the teachings presented in the Bhāgavatam.

The goal of Krishna consciousness is to develop a loving relationship with Krishna, which first requires a reasonable understanding of the fundamental nature of reality. It is not required to become a scholar or theologian to do that. We do, however, have to sincerely hear śāstra like the Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam and the Bhagavad-gītā to gain sambandha-jñāna, a reasonable depth of the basic philosophy of Krishna consciousness. Here’s a verse from the Bhagavad-gītā that perfectly sums up our discussion:

“I am the source of all spiritual and material worlds. Everything emanates from Me [sambandha-jñāna]. The wise who perfectly know this engage in My devotional service [abhidheya-jñāna] and worship Me with all their hearts [prayojana-jñāna]. (Bg. 10.8)

[1] I will be defining the terms sambandha-jñāna, abhidheya-jñāna, and prayojana-jñāna according to the technical usage of these terms the Cc. Madhya-līlā chapters 20-25.

[2] Śrī Bhakti-sandarbha, Anuchheda 1