"Absolute Truth"

"The Absolute Truth is realized in three phases of understanding by the knower of the Absolute Truth, and all of them are identical.  Such phases of the Absolute Truth are expressed as Brahman, Paramatma, and Bhagavan." (Bhag. 1.2.11) 

These three divine aspects can be explained by the example of the sun, which also has three different aspects, namely the sunshine, the sun's surface and the sun planet itself. 

One who studies the sunshine only is the preliminary student. One who understands the sun's surface is further advanced. And one who can enter into the sun planet is the highest. 

Ordinary students who are satisfied by simply understanding the sunshine -- its universal pervasiveness and the glaring effulgence of its impersonal nature may be compared to those who can realize only the Brahman feature of the Absolute Truth. (one with our soul energy)

The student who has advanced still further can know the sun disc, which is compared to knowledge of the Paramatma feature of the Absolute Truth.(the supersoul).  And the student who can enter into the heart of the sun planet is compared to those who realize the personal features of the Supreme Absolute Truth. Therefore, the transcendentalists who have realized this Bhagavan feature of the Absolute Truth, are the topmost transcendentalists, although all students who are engaged in the study of the Absolute Truth are engaged in the same subject matter. 

The sunshine, the sun disc and the inner affairs of the sun planet cannot be separated from one another, and yet the students of the three different phases are in three different states of realisation.

Extract 2:2 Contents of the Gita Summarised

J Krishnamurti on Love and doing nothing

Thoughts I've heard in conversations this week...love, absolute truth, connectedness, oneness... inspired me to revisit J.Krishnamurti's teachings....

"Love is something that is new, fresh, alive. It has no yesterday and no tomorrow. It is beyond the turmoil of thought. It is only the innocent mind which knows what love is, and the innocent mind can live in the world which is not innocent.

To find this extraordinary thing which man has sought endlessly through sacrifice, through worship, through relationship, through sex, through every form of pleasure and pain, is only possible when thought comes to understand itself and comes naturally to an end. Then love has no opposite, then love has no conflict.

You may ask, `If I find such a love, what happens to my wife, my children, my family? They must have security.' When you put such a question you have never been outside the field of thought, the field of consciousness. When once you have been outside that field you will never ask such a question because then you will know what love is in which there is no thought and therefore no time.

You may read this mesmerized and enchanted, but actually to go beyond thought and time - which means going beyond sorrow - is to be aware that there is a different dimension called love. But you don't know how to come to this extraordinary fount - so what do you do? If you don't know what to do, you do nothing, don't you? Absolutely nothing. Then inwardly you are completely silent. Do you understand what that means? It means that you are not seeking, not wanting, not pursuing; there is no centre at all. Then there is love."

Read more of J Krishnamurti on Love here

Just read Anand Giridharadas "Once Clear thoughts..." post published in today's NY Times. As always his words resonate with the heart and soul of a country - (surprisingly a democratic country) which has lodged itself forever in my heart and soul. "Why is more culture flowing in than out of India now" Giridharadas asks. My answer - to Anand and others of Indian parentage who have commented on his article - "Because you are too humble to realise that India has it all, has always had it all. And the world needs what it has, more than ever! The rest of us are yearning whether we know it or not, for what India has. The world's most magnificent, most opulent country at every level despite and because of her poverty, disease and, yes, her filth, India is brilliant, sparkling, radiant, grand. From her harsh but colourful northern deserts to the majestic Himalayas, her beautiful coastlines and lush tropical centre, her sacred rivers, from busy villages right to the midst of her teeming, vibrant cities - everything is grand scale. From villages to urban centres one sees 'filth' if that's where one's perception lies - just on the outer fringe of consciousness. Our eyes will see that if they are only observing, not feeling, not engaged, not truly conscious. It's the physical view. And India is so, so much more than that. She infuses every level of one's being - material, emotional, intellectual, spiritual! Most of all India's magnificence is held within her people, who wear their hearts and soul on the outside. They can't help it! No matter how hard they try to fit what they think is some standard 'international' or 'world-class' behaviour, they just are how they feel. Indian people embody all the opulences of her grand history and ancient Vedic culture, yet remain so humble as to think they have nothing to offer the world. I think democracy was always meant to have a soul, like the people it is supposed to serve. Like India. I so hope she doesn't lose that soul but perhaps one day share with us in the West the depth of an ancient civilisation we can only imagine, and her take on today's democracy. In return, western style democracy will not exploit her further, but will repay her by helping lift millions out of poor health, illiteracy and starvation."

This last week in India has felt like another lifetime. Since last post I've been embraced by the land of Lord Siva. Rishikesh, totally vegetarian this home of yoga nestles in the lap of the lower Himalayan foothills where the sacred, powerful Mother Ganges, jade and crystal clear still close to her source, meanders here, surges there, on her journey past the communities of Laxman Jhula north of town and on the East Bank Swarg Ashram (also called Rama Jhula). I'm absorbed by the spirit of this place, the vista of temples, yogis, ashrams, visiting pilgrims. Majestic suspension footbridges span the river carrying cows, women in saris, tourists, saddhus all travelling on foot, boys on bicycles, couples on scooters from the winding mountain road to the colourful, bustling village lanes of the two Jhulas. Rishikesh wears its spirit on the outside. Life is about yoga and meditation, ayurvedic health and massage, astrology, reiki, chanting, offerings, peaceful souls, smiling, greeting, namaste. Gentle, graceful energy radiates everywhere and from everyone. Perched on a partially submerged boulder on the banks of Mother Ganga as she flows serenely past me with the ancient, towering Himalayas behind me, I feel so incredibly blessed.

What a round-the-clock effort to get to the airport on Friday, clearing the desk, packing, it was 5am and the car was outside before I knew it. What a great idea to stop for six hours at Singapore airport - time to catch up on sleep in a comfortable hotel room before heading on to Delhi.

Every city has a smell that greets you even before you leave the plane and intensifies as you get closer. Perhaps the smell is just one part of a unique atmosphere of place. Whatever, smell is the sense that always hits me first. I haven't even started to sift and separate the assault of tastes, sights, sounds, smells, feelings that are Delhi, but if I smelled those smells at home - petrol, ghee, smoke, dust, earth, sewage - they'd offend me. If the sounds and the constant traffic jams and crowds were part of my daily life, I'm sure I'd find it overwhelming. But here in India I love it all and feel myself smiling inside as I reconnect, heart and soul, to India.

We made it from the airport into Delhi around 11.30pm. I always feel as though I've 'made it' in India when I arrive anywhere. Must be to do with the rally conditions you experience driving anywhere...navigating around tuk-tuks, scooters, buses, vans, horse-drawn trailers, cars, sadhus, bicycles with trailers and of course, cows. Constant beeping, blaring of horns. Just a few minutes away from the little downtown hotel, the familiar landmarks, looking forward to arriving the car came to a complete stop. Gridlock. The street, with stalls spilling onto the dusty road, was chock-a-block carnival - alive with light, music and colour. A wedding parade was in full Bollywood. White horse drawn carriage, bejewelled bride, all adorned with shining red and glittering gold ornaments, brass band, uniformed musicians straight from the British raj, hundreds upon hundreds of guests, well-wishers, followers, all pouring, jam-packed together, down our street. Cacophony! Car horns blaring, trumpets blasting, cymbals clashing, dogs barking, people singing and laughing. Sparkling crystal and ruby glass chandeliers held aloft by members of the dancing wedding party, strung one to the next with old electrical cables...surreal spotlights, randomly lit scenes. Pure India, at its brilliant best. For a weird but amusing few minutes I felt what it must be like to be a star and be 'mobbed'. We were surrounded. The hindquarter of a white horse just an inch from my window and at the driver's window squashed red, gold and white uniformed musicians. Bodies came tumbling across the bonnet and boot, pushing between the horse, the car, jostling the band. Past the windscreen hundreds of ecstatic, laughing, soulful eyes, faces pushed up to the glass, banging on the windows to the music, waving, happily.

Of course the parade moved on and we were face to face with a wall of traffic coming the other way. We edged forward, little by little, manouvering through tiny gaps, up and over kerbs, around through the back of a couple of stalls, past scooters, bikes, rickshaws, tuk-tuks and vans - all coming towards us and all, like us manouvering sideways, backwards, forwards.

Then just as suddenly as the parade had stopped us, the road cleared and we were outside the hotel. Delhi. I'm loving it.