Hari
Om
Monday is AUM-day; in search of meditation
SOLITUDE. Does
it serve a purpose for the meditator? Does it have to mean 'lonely'? We are
going to explore the writings of a number of notable contemplatives of various
backgrounds and explore the role of solitude in spiritual pursuit. These are
from a collection published by Chinmaya Publications.
Swami Chinmayananda - Gurudev - himself is the next essayist in the
book. Actually, it is a lengthy excerpt from his diary of 1948, when he was
making yatra (pilgrimage) of the Himalaya and pondering how best to serve the
world. The insight the excerpt gives as to adjusting to solitude and gaining
benefit from it is quite revealing. In order to keep this post manageable in
length, but also to distill an essence of the different sections (days of the
diary), instead, quotations are going to be presented - key sentences which
hold entire lessons within them. Your task is to ponder each deeply.
The title given the 'essay' is Communing With Nature.
After returning (from Rishikesh) I went for a long walk alone among
the tall, awsome-inspiring pine trees. At first I felt terrified just looking
at their majesty. Then I stepped into their midst…
(Leaving the Jamuna) the ascent was no joke. Even a healthy man must
pant ere he can proceed half a furlong. Yet the going was pleasant - because of
the solid silence in these vaults of nature… the sight was gorgeous all around,
the vegetation thick. Tall trees laden with leaves, shrubs short and stout. I
wanted to leave even my friend Sri Gautamji, who seemed to be afraid of the
silence and stuck to me even more. I could not shake him easily, but gained a
lead as we descended down the serpentine path. It is a lovely, exhilarating
experience to be in the forest alone with the silence. You seem to perceive the
silence, dandle it, and come to be silence yourself. The thicker and heavier
the silence, the more Gautamji would talk… not everybody can take silence in
their stride. It can be as unnerving as incessant chatter.
Except for the twitter of a few birds at 4am, nothing disturbed the
serenity of the moment. In such an atmosphere, prayer comes to one naturally.
We visited a vairaagi sadhu, Sri Raganath Dasji. We were with him
for ten minutes. He spoke not a word; we spoke not a word. It was the most
eloquent ten minutes. In that silence, the attitude of babaji, the room, the
fire… everything assumed a special significance. If we did not receive its
meaning, it could have only meant a weakness in our own understanding. The real
life is in meditation and renunciation.
The early morning sun played on the fresh whiteness of the snowpeaks.
Together they formed a chorus of welcome… as we marched along this winding
ridge, falling to depths on either side, with an amazing variety of flowers of
white, yellow, violet, we felt that we were on the roof and crown of creation
and were, in essence, at one with the reigning spirit of pure beauty and
thrilling silence. There is no language in the world that has worlds powerful
enough to express such deep, voiceless, undiluted inner experiences...no
earthly joy can compete, for they are incomplete and finite; this is infinite,
immeasurable bliss which rejuvenates and shatters into smithereens the entire
market-place values in life.
...here in the deepest, fiercest forest section, I was alone for an
hour. Any rugged stretch is a 'path'. Nature is formidable with her eerie
noises; birds, leaves, rivers, twigs cracking underfoot, distant calls of
shepherds, all falling thickly on the exploding silence. Woven into this
intricate pattern, how can one call one's life one's own?! There is the
humility of absolute surrender.