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*Am working on figuring out the best way to render Devanagari. For now, transliteration...sorry. Namaste.
Showing posts with label Upanishads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Upanishads. Show all posts

Saturday, December 17, 2011

In The End Is the Word



I have expressed my discontent with the use and abuse of Karma  elsewhere, but it bears repeating, for I cannot “pick up” an on-line publication or hear a snippet of a conversation without nearly at least once hearing someone say something to the effect of “it was my bad karma that I got stuck in traffic” or “Tim Tebow must have good karma when he prays before a game” or the like, when speaking of why something did or did not happen. To re-iterate, then, karma, from the root Kr, simply means, “the thing done,” nothing more, nothing less. There is no value, no judgment, no good, no bad, no Quality to it. It simply means--an action done.

Karma causes an effect. Karma, the action is the cause. The result, whether it is judged later as good or bad, is independent of the karma, or action, with regards to Quality. It is the result of the action that ultimately bears the burden of Quality.

The Seventh Chapter of the Chãndogya Upanishad is a brilliant catechism of cause and effort. It simultaneously pre-dates the Buddhist concept of the eight-fold Middle Way with the precursor of the concept of “right speech,” while also being the virtual inversion, like a yoga headstand of St. John’s gospel concept of the logos, or the Word made Flesh. Logos from the Greek can mean simply word, but it also extends to the entire gamut of rational discourse, study, or rhetorical utterances. It is a very powerful word in itself.

However, for John, the Word comes first, it is the Creative Force, it is God. In the Chãndogya, the words come last, they are the least powerful in a long chain of karmic events, or actions, leading back to the source of all thought and expression.

Nãrada, an aspirant of learning, approaches (the verb upa-ni-shad means to approach, like a student to a teacher) Sanatkumãra, an esteemed guru, or teacher and wishes to learn what he knows. Sanatkumãra tells Nãrada to tell him what he knows, and Sanatkumãra will in turn un-learn him of what he has learned. Nãrada lists all of the studies and texts that he has learned, in this case, memorized, beginning with the Vedas down to texts on the natural history of serpents.

To this long list of apparent erudition, Sanatkumãra says that these are all merely “namani” or words, the etymology in fact of the Greek -nym, from which we get anto-nyms and syno-nyms and the like, not the mention the more transparent inheritance into our own English as the Names.

Sanatkumãra tells his questioning friend that there is nothing behind these mere words, or names, and that the truth lies much further back, down the chain of events of cause and effect.

The ensuing dialectic, predating even the Socratic Method by centuries and the Catholic Catechism by that many more centuries is quite simple and repetitive, almost like childish banter in its simplicity, but the consequences are quite profound, calling into question our notions of the childhood mantra of “sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me.” Nothing could be further from the Truth for Sanatkumãra as we see, tracing back the origin of the word to its source.

Nãrada asks at each stage, “asti bhagavo nãmno bhuya iti nãmno vãvã bhuo’sti,” both a question and a plaintive query, “O venerable one, is there something greater than Name? Surely there is something greater than Name?!?” At each stage then, consequently, the teacher gives something that is bhuya, or greater, than the thing before, beginning with Name/Word.

From Name/word, he goes to Speech to Mind to Will to Intelligence to Meditation to Understanding to Strength (vitality to think) to Sustenance (to provide the vitality) to Water (to cause the food) to Fire to Space to Memory to Hope to the Vital Force, or Prãna, which is the source of everything. Prãna can be thought of as being kin to the pneuma of Greek, or the breath, the spirit or Life. Tracing back then, words or names are the final product of the initiation of the Vital Essence of Be-ing, the sacred breath of the Universe, pronounced by the udghita, by chanting the sacred syllable OM, or A-U-M. Though it is a chain of cause and effect, it is one and the same as you cannot have the cause without the effect, the two are not distinct, but part of the greater whole.

However, what is then interesting from this karmic chain is what Nãrada then learns is the consequence of incorrect speech, or harmful words. For, because speech and consequently words are the result of the Vital Force, expressed by the Will and through the Mind, to speak ill of one is as good as murder. Greater, or rather worse, is to speak ill of one than even to desecrate their ashes at the funeral pyre, because those are mere, mortal remains.

To speak improperly is simply spiritual murder. It does not attack the bones, like the sticks and stones, but rather the very Soul of another, the core of that person’s Vital Life Force. Speaking ill, then, of one, is not to bring on so-called “bad karma” to one’s Self, it is a much greater illness, it implicates one of pre-meditated murder.

Speak well, then, is the message from Sanatkumãra, and indeed, if you don’t have something kind to say, think about the real consequences, not the selfishness of whether you will get stuck in a traffic jam later in the day, or whether your favorite team will lose the game, but rather, what have you in fact done to that person’s Soul?

Such is the nature of Karma...and as such, we might think to speak unto others as you would have them speak to you.

Words can hurt. The good news is, they can heal too.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

When I Was King


The Upanishads, or the most well-known and circulated exegesis of the Vedic tradition, are the more philosophical answer to the religious-based Vedas. This was not only a philosophical movement, but it signaled a significant power shift in ancient Indian society.

Formerly, the ruling class, or caste was the Brahmin, or priestly caste. These were chiefly men from the Sanskrit-speaking Aryans who had descended upon the sub-continent from most likely the Russian Steppes, or former Persian empire in about the year 1500 BCE. In order to distinguish these taller, fairer skinned conquerors, the caste system, based upon varna, or color, was installed. Though this later becomes associated with civil status and occupation, originally the caste system was a way to discriminate between the conquering and the conquered.

For quite some time the Brahmins reigned supreme, espousing the holy scriptures as the Truth, but this was not to last. Within the second caste, the Kshatriya, there began to be murmurs of discontent. The Kshatriya class was the princely and warrior caste and the Upanishads belong primarily to their canon fodder of thought. Within this tradition, The Bhagavad Gita, whose hero is the princely warrior, Arjuna, is considered to be a discreet Upanishad within the larger epic, the Mahabharata.

Upanishad, or Upa-ni-shad, literally means to “approach and sit before.” These were teachings in which the student would approach the guru and sit before him, engaging intellectual debate, seeking clarification in the often vague and contradictory scriptures. These became the dialectic of the Kshatriya who eventually did wrestle the power from the Brahmins, and amongst whom Siddhartha Gautama, or, the Buddha , was counted. His questioning of the scriptures of old was quite in line with the Upanishadic tradition of the dialectic, quite like that of Socrates in his native Athens.

The Mandukya Upanishad chiefly deals with the breakdown of the sacred syllable of OM, which is famously used in yoga classes around the world as a mantra to be used for meditation.

However, the “true” nature of OM, when examined, is protracted to four movements, A, U, M, and Silence. When chanting the OM, it should begin from deep in the chest cavity, reaching back to the spine at the back of the throat with a bass “A” which then gradually moves up the esophagus as the “U” transiting towards the tongue with the “M” as it moves to the lips and finally clenched teeth and the nasal drone exiting from the nostrils trailing off into Slience, to be repeated again from the core of the abdomen.

In Upanishadic tradition, these tesseract of sound (and absence of sound), mimics the four stages of sleep, ranging from light, disturbed sleep of the “A” to a superbly profound, dreamless sleep of the silence, signaling the dissolution of the Self into the Atman, or Universal Soul. Before that, the Self enters the dream stage in which all things are possible. In the dream state, a pauper becomes king, a murderer a saint, and all barriers of Time and Space are broken. It is the great equalizer for it is the verisimilitude of Death, the true great equalizer.
In Advaita Vedanta, the concept then of the dreaming stage of sleep is likened to the quest for liberating the mind of discrimination between the Self and Other, between opposites, and any discretions at all. It is the moment before enlightenment in which the thinking and intellectualism can serve one no longer, it is the space between the calculus that cannot be measured, that illusive cantor dust, yet only transcended by the release of the ignorance of the “educated” mind, which deludes us with divisions, rather than seeking correspondences.

Shankara writes of this transitional phenomenon:




That which transcends caste and creed, family and heritage,
Devoid of name and form, praise and blame;

Transcending Time and Space and bass matter:
That Brahman, “Thou Art That.”
Contemplate this in your mind.