Commentary on Paramahansa Nityananda's Chidakasha Gita–Number 12
by Swami Nirmalananda Giri

Chidakasha Gita: Verses 37-41

37. Without knowing the secret, if we simply decorate the exterior skin, our karma will not leave us. One cannot be a sannyasi by external signs if he is internally a hypocrite. What you think, you must speak; what you speak, you must show by your acts. Do what you say; say what you do. Such a man is a jnani; he is a paramahansa; he is a yogi; he is a sannyasi. One who has conquered desire is a true sannyasi. Only a desireless man is fit to be a spiritual teacher.

• Without knowing the secret, if we simply decorate the exterior skin, our karma will not leave us.

It is mistakenly believed by many that if they only take sannyas their karma will be left behind and they will easily attain Self-realization. Later they find this is not so and become discouraged and disgusted. Since Indian society (and especially the family) will not accept a monk who has returned to secular life, they continue to wear gerrua and usually wander purposely, living like parasites off the charity of sincere persons who good-heartedly accept all gerrua-wearers as worthy sadhus. They often become drug-addicted, as well. Living in complete dreariness, death is a welcome escape. I am not exaggerating this. I have seen young men in their early twenties already sinking into this condition.

One time in Kurukshetra, Sri Anandamayi Ma spoke with me at length on the necessity for “antar sannyas”–inner sannyas–that is the prerequisite for outer sannyas. Although the monks living in the Anandamayi ashrams–all Giri swamis–had taken sannyas in a very formal and exact manner (as had I, with Ma’s approval), she also spoke of what she called “shukla sannyas”–white sannyas–in which, impelled by a force deep within, the person simply dons the gerrua clothing, adopts an appropriate name, and leaves home to lead the sadhu life. She was emphatic that no one need be “given” sannyas, but that the best was declaring oneself a sadhu with no ties–not even with the Shankara Order. Having read the dharmashastras, I knew that this was the only way prescribed in ancient times. Ma greatly praised Swami Paramananda, the most revered sadhu in the Anandamayi Sangha, telling me of how he had entered into shukla sannyas when only fourteen or fifteen years old. Swamiji was a dear friend, whose spiritual stature was simply incalculable–I always thought of him as a living example of one who dwelt in the trigunatita (“beyond the three gunas”) state. I had not known of his manner of taking sannyas until Mother told me. The state of inner sannyas is the “secret” Nityananda is referring to. Without it, putting on gerrua cloth or smearing oneself with ashes is pointless, and may be harmful.

There is a general principle here I would like to point out. Although certain external factors (or their absence) can be conducive to spiritual life, it is a grave error to think that of themselves external conditions are going to enable us to live a spiritual life. And it is positively deadly to delay spiritual effort, telling ourselves that when the fortuitous externals have been gained, then we will really get busy and dig in and have a strong spiritual life. Two of my friends frittered away their lives in this way. They always had big plans–often involving moving to another place, and always involving getting another job–that were going to enable them to dedicate themselves seriously to spiritual endeavor. But “right now” they were neglecting spiritual life, supposedly because of factors that would removed in the future. Foolishly they thought they could slack off by daydreaming of a “brighter tomorrow” in which their progress would be effortless. That tomorrow never came, and in time they abandoned spiritual life and lived in embittered and self-justifying delusion, desolate and dreary–like the pathetic unsadhus of India, waiting wearily to die.

• One cannot be a sannyasi by external signs if he is internally a hypocrite.

Again, foolish people think that by putting on the uniform they will be changed–that they will instantly become spiritual-minded and rise above the ways of ego, karma, and the deluded world, that all attachments will drop away and they will be free to skip on down the Highway to the Infinite, rather like Dorothy and her friends in the Wizard of Oz.

“Hypocrite” as Nityananda uses it here, does not just mean one who puts on a false front and hides what he knows is inside. It also means one whose interior state is inconsistent with the sadhu life. Such a person may be aware of the fact, but think that by forcing himself into external sannyas that will make the way clear and his inner state will magically transform into sannyas-bhava. Ruin is sure for both types. Many think that by acting spiritual they will become spiritual. As usual, they have it backwards. First they must become spiritual; then their life will be spiritual.

A further note that is particularly relevant in the West. There are pretend yogis who know that they are not morally fit for sannyas, so they never even consider the monastic life, but indulge their immorality in or outside of marriage, thinking that somehow this will not work to their detriment. What they choose to ignore is the truth that what makes them unfit for sannyasa makes them unfit for yoga, also. On the coast of California there is a weekly satsang attended by quite a few people, many of them young women. When the satsang is over, the “householder” men and the “yogi” bachelors (including an ex-monk) remain behind and discuss in great detail the anatomy of the women who attended, rating their attributes and expressing their indecent reactions to them. The discussion is led by the man in whose house the satsangs take place. They pride themselves on knowing and acknowledging that they are “not cut out to be a monk,” but they are not fit to be yogis, either.

• What you think, you must speak; what you speak, you must show by your acts. Do what you say; say what you do.

Consistency is essential in spiritual life. The inner and the outer must be the same. Mere words and mere deeds are not enough–they must match the interior condition. The first clause enjoins straightforward, honest, and truthful speech at all times.

• Such a man is a jnani; he is a paramahansa; he is a yogi; he is a sannyasi.

Of course Nityananda is speaking of someone who has become absolutely on with his Self and is perfectly manifesting It.

• One who has conquered desire is a true sannyasi. Only a desireless man is fit to be a spiritual teacher.

This is very clear. Let me just point out that excusing someone’s materialism on the ground that “for him these are just toys” or “he is showing us an example as how to deal with them/it” is nonsense. Get straight and get honest. If it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and swims like a duck, it is a duck–not a guru or an avatar whose advent has ushered in Satya Yuga.

38. What is served for others, should not be eaten by us. We must place a separate leaf for us and eat our food.

That which has been partially eaten by another, or put on their plate, is never to be eaten by another, as it is considered defiling–ucchishtham. But none of the aphorisms in the Chidakasha Gita deal with such material things, only with matters of personal development.

Nityananda is speaking of swadharma, about which the Bhagavad Gita says: “Better one’s own duty [swadharma] though deficient than the duty of another well performed. Better is death in one’s own duty [swadharma]; the duty [dharma] of another invites danger” (Bhagavad Gita 3:35). A Brief Sanskrit Glossary defines it as: “One’s own natural (innate) duty (dharma, based on their karma and samskara. One’s own prescribed duty in life according to the eternal law (ritam).”

We should not try to follow the ways of another just because they were admirable, nor should we allow anyone to impose their ways on us. Rather, we must delve within and discover our path in life–and no one else should presume to tell us what that might be. Certainly an intuitive person might be able to see what is the natural mode of life for us, but if we do not find it out ourself, our attempts to live it out will be artificial, not from within. Meditation is of crucial importance here, for only through meditation can a person become attuned to his inner nature. Karma is a major factor, as well–that is why it is so individual. This is one of the reasons why there are no genuine “spiritual movements.” Spiritual awakening and growth are fundamentally individual in nature. “Paddle your own canoe” is an absolute in spiritual life. Even God will not do it for you. (He has already given you the arms, the paddles, and the canoe–something must come from you, now.)

Basically, Nityananda is telling us that we cannot live the life already lived by another. We must live our own life, for that alone will move us forward along the evolutionary path. There is also a hint here that our life must be very individual, that the aspirant should not run with a herd, but be adamantly self-contained and self-sufficient. That does not mean that the company of other aspirants is not of great value, but they should be an assembly of free and separate individuals, not a single-minded conglomerate or cult.

39. There is nothing like “this one has more and another has less.” The power of thought, the ears, the nose, the hand, the eye, etc. are the same to all.

I grew up hearing mentally and spiritually lazy people protesting that: “You are so much smarter/more spiritual than I am,” considering that a legitimate excuse for being layabouts in mind or soul. Certainly Nityananda had lived long enough to know that there are great differences in people’s abilities. But he knew that on one level people were absolutely equal, that one was not more “gifted” than another. The difference was in the degree the abilities were being accessed, but everyone had the same potential. Of course, he especially means this in matters of the spirit.

Within us is a vast treasure-house and we can open it through yoga–and often through sheer will power. Saint John of Kronstadt was mentally backward, but it was such a torment to him that he prayed fervently until a kind of mental veil fell away–and he was not just normal, he was intellectually brilliant and received many academic honors. I knew a girl whose singing was exceptionally beautiful and who could play several musical instruments with outstanding ability. Her parents told me that formerly she had been completely tone deaf and could not sing a note, though she yearned to be able to sing and play musical instruments in church as a service to God. When she was in her mid-teens she went out in the woods around their house and prayed for hours. When she came back in the house told them she could sing–and did so beautifully. Then she sat down at the piano, fiddled around a bit and then played a song! She had unlocked her innate musical abilities.

40. The nose is not the place where the eye is. Walking should be done by the legs only. Work done by the hands cannot be done by the head.

The idea here is that we must get ourselves “sorted out” and have all our levels of being integrated and working together, not overlapping or usurping each other’s “swadharma.” People are not just mentally confused, their outer and inner bodies are confused and in conflict. A prime example of this is people who deal with emotions by eating. Feeling and digestion are worlds apart, and to mix them up is very unfortunate. To feel inwardly small because we are physically very slight or short is to confuse the mind with the body. You get the idea.

41. The head is the ocean of ananda (joy). In it is situated the prana linga, i.e., the seat of liberation (mukti). This cannot be learnt from books. It is inherent in the brain. The book consists of parts, but jnana is the indivisible one. A book consists of chapters, but jnana is single-chaptered. For those who have not realized, a book is necessary; but to a man of realization, there is only one undivided being. When a man takes birth, he is not born with a book in his hand but he is born with a brain. While coming (into this world) and going away (from this world), a man has no book in his hand. Only in the middle period he takes a book.

• The head is the ocean of ananda (joy). In it is situated the prana linga, i.e., the seat of liberation (mukti). This cannot be learnt from books. It is inherent in the brain.

In the Chidakasha Gita Paramhansadeva has some very important things to say about the head–the Sahasrara chakra–and the fact that meditation should take place there exclusively. Even though he uses the word “head” he always means the brain, which is the physical manifestation of the astral and causal levels of the Sahasrara. The Sahasrara is the Ocean of Ananda, for as already pointed out, infinity does not mean immeasurably huge, but that which transcends space itself and therefore is neither large nor small, yet is all-embracing. Infinity is to be found in the Sahasrara. The ananda of Satchitananda is to be found there and entered into. Its very simplicity is why so few ever do–they are busy psyching themselves up with Super Yoga and “rousing the Kundalini” in multifarious ways.

The Self, the Prana Linga–the true form of Life Itself–is at its core and yet pervades it (so there is no need to “concentrate” anywhere but in the brain in general, and even then it must be lightly, gently, and without any strain whatsoever). As Nityananda says, liberation is “seated” in the brain. Liberation cannot be learned from books, but it is native to the Sahasrara. Those who meditate there as he describes, intoning Om with the breath, will discover it, for Om is the bija mantra of the Sahasrara, and the Mandukya Upanishad says: “The Self is of the nature of the Syllable Om. Thus the Syllable Om is the very Self. He who knows It thus enters the Self [Supreme Spirit] with his self [individual spirit].” (Mandukya Upanishad 1.8.12)

• The book consists of parts, but jnana is the indivisible one. A book consists of chapters, but jnana is single-chaptered.

Jnana consists of one thing only: Self-knowledge–not in the sense of philosophy about the Self, but as direct experience OF the Self AS the Self.

• For those who have not realized, a book is necessary; but to a man of realization, there is only one undivided being.

Nityananda is not decrying the reading of spiritual books; rather he is saying that they are a necessity for those who have not realized the Self. But once the Self is known, there is nothing left to read about, for the Self is one with all.

• When a man takes birth, he is not born with a book in his hand but he is born with a brain.

To seek liberation by a book rather than in the Sahasrara is a vain endeavor. We must be much more intent on the illumination of our intelligence (buddhi) than someone else’s words. Those who speak from books and not from brains are worthless indeed. In both East and West professional religionists speak as though they had a library of audiobooks in their head rather than a brain. I do not think there is anything more inane and tiresome than present-day Indian pundits and gurus that are what Yogananda called “spiritual phonographs” with never a glimmer of a functioning brain.

• While coming (into this world) and going away (from this world), a man has no book in his hand.

It is our karma that brings us here and takes us away, until enlightenment frees us and we leave of our own liberated will.

Only in the middle period he takes a book. But without that middle there will be no ending.