My name is Ted Schmidt and I was born in Elbow Lake, Minnesota in 1965. Throughout my youth, I was very active in sports and played baseball and basketball in high school. I attended the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, Minnesota, where I earned a B. A. degree in English and education. Following my graduation, I taught high school English in southern California for six years, and have been doing the same at a high school in the southern suburbs of Minneapolis, Minnesota since the late 1990’s.
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INTERVIEW
N DM: Ok, can you please tell me about your teacher (s) and how you came to this non dual realization?Ted Schmidt: My official quest for self-knowledge began, you might say, when I received shaktipat from Gurumayi Chidvilasananda in 1989. Prior to that I had read various New Age books and was pretty sure there was more to life than met the eye. Though I was baptized a Lutheran, I never attended church with any regularity and was pretty turned-off by the whole “you are a sinner and must accept Jesus as your savior” spiel that I was given when I did attend. Fortunately, my mother instilled in me the idea that couched within the allegorical tales of the Bible there was a deeper meaning. I’m not sure that she understood the full import of that meaning in terms of the Kabbalistic wisdom encoded in the Old Testament and the whiffs of non-dualism that we get from the Gospels of the New Testament, both of which I was later to explore more deeply at various points along my “spiritual journey,” but her words did inspire me to investigate alternative views about the nature of reality and the relationship between man and God. By virtue of these investigations, I eventually found myself drawn to the Eastern traditions in a way that I had never been drawn to Christianity. Oddly enough, however, it was my involvement in athletics, writing, music, and theater that more directly led me to the spiritual path. In all of these arenas I was intent on excelling and was always looking for that ever-elusive seemingly magical factor or formula that would put me in “the zone” and guarantee peak performance every time out. The more deeply I probed this matter, however, the less physical or formulaic the answer seemed to be. While a certain degree of physical talent and/or technical skill is, of course, necessary for success in any endeavor, it became quite obvious that the real X-factor was something intangible that resided deep within the recesses of one’s own heart and/or mind. The “force” it was called in the popular “Star Wars” movies of the time. Gradually, I became more intent on getting in touch with the “force,” which at that point I thought of as the true nature of my being, than with the athletic and artistic successes I had hoped to gain as a result doing so. And in due course most of my interest in these “worldly” pursuits abated altogether. By the time I was bopped on the head by Gurumayi’ peacock wand, all I essentially wanted to do was become a monk and meditate until I attained self-realization. Having just recently graduated from college with a degree in English and education but having not yet actively pursued a teaching job, I decided to put the job hunt on hold, dumped most of my worldly possessions, and went to live in Gurumayi’s ashram where I fully intended to remain as long as possible. My desire was to take sannyas, or the formal vows of renunciation, become a swami, and thereafter spend my days studying scripture, doing Guru-seva, or selfless service, and sitting in deep states of meditation at the feet of my Guru until...well...god knows what. Despite desiring it above all else, I suffered the same plight as the vast majority of spiritual seekers with regard to the tantalizing prospect of enlightenment: I had no idea what the hell it actually was. Though I had many epiphanies through which the divine nature of the universe was revealed and remember clear as a bell the moment I “saw” and thus became established in the understanding that everything is the self, this self, ironically enough, somehow always remained just beyond the reach of me. On the one hand, the idea that I was actually a person — and a sinful one at that — was still too deeply ingrained in my subconscious to allow me to accept that my true identity was the divine self — that is, the self with a capital “S” — about which the scriptures and Gurus spoke in such grandiose terms. On the other hand, since one of the central tenets of Siddha Yoga seemed to be the idea that having the vision of and eventually merging with a mystical phenomenon that was referred to as “the Blue Pearl” was the singular affirmation of self-realization and I hadn’t yet had that specific experience, I assumed I couldn’t possibly be enlightened. While Siddha Yoga did refer to enlightenment as “knowing the Self,” the emphasis of its teachings and focus of its spiritual practices was entirely upon the experience of sensations and visions that were apparently supposed to constitute or catapult one into the ultimate awakened state. Nobody ever gave the slightest indication that the true nature of the self is not a state at all, but rather the limitless attributeless awareness in which all states of being appear, and that knowing the self is therefore not a matter of maintaining some high feeling, harboring some supernatural power, or having some mystical vision or transcendental experience. As fate would have it, when I eventually approached the ashram administrators and told them that my money was running out and intimated to them my interest in serving on the staff and taking up permanent residence in the ashram, I was told to return to the world and make money so that I could afford to come back again in the future. Disheartened but not dissuaded from my commitment to sadhana and the ultimate endgame of enlightenment, I left the ashram and went on with my life. I won’t bore you with all the gory the details, but basically I took a teaching job in California, eventually got married, then divorced, returned to Minnesota, which is where I grew up, found a teaching job there, got married a second time and once again divorced, all the while continuing my pursuit of self-realization. Though my dedication to Siddha Yoga and its prescribed practices of meditation, chanting, attending satsang and doing seva (selfless service) at the local Siddha Yoga Meditation Center, offering dakshina (monetary contributions), and studying various scriptures from the yogic and Kashmir Shaivite traditions remained the foundation of my sadhana and provided the basis for my intellectual understanding of the non-dual nature of reality, none of these on-going attempts to transcend the ego, merge with the Self, and attain enlightenment ever sealed the deal. Over the years, I had simultaneously explored various other spiritual traditions because, inspired by the teachings of Joseph Campbell, I felt that all must be pointing to the same truth and simply expressing it through a different set of symbols. During this time I investigated Buddhism, Sufism, Taoism, Mystical Christianity, and shamanism. Later, after becoming somewhat disillusioned by the lack of progress I seemed to be making through my practice of Siddha Yoga, I initially undertook an intense study of Qi Gong and was eventually certified as an advanced healer and later went through three years of training in a particular West African shamanic tradition and was eventually initiated as an elder. Much to my chagrin, even these achievements failed to produce the unending cosmic orgasm I supposed enlightenment to be and the unearthly mystical powers I believed should and would accompany it. The point of my telling you about all this stuff is not in order to make myself out to be some “spiritually sophisticated, intellectually accomplished, mystical visionary” or some such nonsense. Rather, the point I am trying to make is quite to the contrary. Despite all my study and striving and “spiritual” insight, I remained the same old idiot as ever, completely ignorant of my true identity as ordinary, ever-present, all-pervasive-yet-attributeless awareness. Even after, subsequent to all my other studies, spending over two years devouring and digesting the dialogues of Nisargadatta Maharaj, Ramana Maharshi, and Atmananda Krishna Menon on a daily basis, it wasn’t until by God’s grace, so to speak, I encountered James Swartz and under his personal guidance was subjected to the irrefutable logic of traditional Vedanta that I was finally able to surrender my experientially-oriented approach to enlightenment, assimilate the knowledge of the self as revealed by the scriptures, or Upanishads, and other subsidiary Vedantic texts, and stand with unshakable confidence in the understanding of my true identity as limitless awareness. What I came to realize was that no amount of doing was ever going to get for me what I already had. All of the yogas, or spiritual practices, were wonderful means for purifying the mind and neutralizing the binding vasanas, or externally-oriented desires that obstruct one’s ability to turn their focus inward and engage in effective inquiry into the true nature of their being, but none of them were capable of producing a permanent state or experience of peace, happiness, and freedom from samsara, the perpetual cycle of irresistible desire and inevitable disappointment or what Swami Dayananda calls “the disease of constant becoming,” which is the immediate cause of all our suffering. In short, no inherently limited experience had by an inherently limited entity could or would ever produce an unlimited result. Experience was not the answer, but the eradication of ignorance. And the only sword capable of slaying that dragon is....you guessed it....discrimination....understanding....knowledge....jnanam.
NDM: Do you think you would have had the same outcome with James, had you not undergone all the purification practices to make the mind more sattvic and the vasanas unbinding so to speak? I ask this because there are many out the today who say all these practices are useless.
Also how long ago did this knowledge take place by the way?
Ted Schmidt: I would definitely not have assimilated self-knowledge without having done purificatory spiritual practices. Once I met James and had the teachings wielded upon me by him, the assimilation of the knowledge happened quite rapidly. The switch was ready to be flicked, you might say. Be clear, however, that I as an apparent individual did not get enlightened. Though I had I realized earlier that I am not the apparent individual I had always taken myself to be, all doubt concerning this understanding dissolved after James guided me through a logical analysis of my experience, and a rock solid conviction in my true identity as pure limitless awareness solidified in its place. It happened about two years ago.
Had I met James earlier, however, I could have been spared years of fruitless striving for some everlasting state of ultra-cosmic-consciousness characterized by unending orgasmic bliss and perhaps a couple of cool super-powers to boot. The knowledge of my true nature as limitless awareness clicked in my mind after a relatively short period of spiritual practice, but I had no teacher who was either capable of or willing to confirm my understanding. All the emphasis of the teachings was placed on experiential states and mystical visions. Though I could “see” that I was the witnessing awareness in which all experiences, ideas, and objects appeared, I kept thinking and all my interactions with spiritual teachers and “advanced” aspirants corroborated the notion that I would only be self-realized when I had seen the Blue Pearl and had the same specific experiential epiphany as Baba Muktananda. In this way, the awareness that I already was remained ever “away” from me, and my identification with it through understanding remained ever unconsummated.
What was missing was a proper application of jnana yoga, which is a spiritual practice that consists of various prakriyas, or methods of analyzing one’s previously unexamined or erroneously interpreted experience. This is why Vedanta, or the knowledge of the true nature of reality, needs to be taught. One cannot figure it out on one’s own, because one’s own deeply ingrained ignorance will cause one to interpret the teachings according to the limited paradigm one has been conditioned to accept as reality. One needs to be “shown” that which has always remained hidden in plain sight, so to speak. And this needs to be done by a qualified teacher who knows how to effectively wield the means of knowledge. In other words, the teacher needs to be able to systematically guide one through the logical analysis of one’s own experience that reveals the underlying truth of its nature as well as the student’s true identity as limitless awareness.
So, yes, the years of spiritual practice had prepared me for what James had to offer. But had I encountered him years earlier, he could have saved me quite of bit of time and effort. The point being that a qualified teacher is as vital to the process of self-inquiry as a qualified student.
At any rate, people who say spiritual practices are useless don’t know what the hell they are talking about. The purification of the mind is essential for self-inquiry. Objective, dispassionate inquiry cannot take place in a mind disturbed by binding vasanas, which manifest as nagging desires and turbulent emotions that extrovert one’s attention and prevent it from turning “inward” and focusing on awareness rather than the objects appearing within its scope. So unless you are the one-in-ten-billion who is ready to “pop,” which would undoubtedly be due to having done spiritual practices in previous lifetimes, you are going to need to tidy up the mind a bit in order to make it inquiry-worthy. And the essential means of cultivating a mind capable of conducting effective self-inquiry is through the time-proven spiritual practices that have been passed down from teacher to student through the ages, such as the following:
1. Karma yoga, which is offering one’s actions to God-the-Creator, or Isvara, and accepting whatever results ensue with an attitude of gratitude based on the understanding that whatever happens is what is determined by God-the-Creator/Isvara/the macrocosmic mind to be what is in the best interests of the total field of manifestation.
2. Bhakti, which is any kind of devotional worship.
3. Jnana yoga, which involves various methods of systematic self-inquiry and analysis of experience.
4. Triguna-vibhava yoga, which is the management of the three “energies” that influence the mind-body-sense complex, not to mention everything else in the manifested universe, in order to regulate the relative proportions of rajas (i.e. active, passionate, and projecting energy) and tamas (i.e. dull, inert, and veiling energy) and cultivate a predominately sattvic (i.e. clear, peaceful, and revelatory or insightful) mind.
5. Meditation, which can take the form of contemplation of the teachings and/or various methods of focusing one’s attention on upasanas, or symbols, in order to quiet the mind and facilitate the understanding of one’s true identity as limitless attributeless awareness.
It is true that these practices do not themselves directly produce moksha, or liberation, for no limited action executed by a limited entity can produce a limitless result. Only self-knowledge can do that. But they are nevertheless essential because they are the means of preparing the mind for the assimilation of the self-knowledge that eradicates ignorance and thereby sets one free.
NDM: What is your take on samadhi. Do you feel that attaining nirvikalpa samadhi is also a legitimate path for some as with jnana yoga, or not?
Ted Schmidt: Samadhi can be a great experiential high, an inspiration to continue the spiritual quest, and depending on how it is processed even an effective purificatory agent for the mind, but….yep, there’s always a “but,” isn’t there?....samadhi is not tantamount to “enlightenment,” self-realization, liberation, or whatever name you want to use to refer to moksha.
Technically speaking, we can say that samadhi, which means “equal mind,” is the nature of the mind with non-dual vision and is, thus, the unadulterated reflection of pure awareness appearing in the mind, but….there’s that pesky “but again….as reflected awareness it is simply an experienced object. And, though not entirely useless for the reasons previously mentioned, because as an object it obtains only temporarily, such an experience does not constitute permanent – which in the case of moksha means “eternal” and implies that which is “beyond” time – fulfillment or freedom.
Depending on one’s degree of qualification as a seeker, one might be able to glean the knowledge contained in the experience of savikalpa samadhi, which is a transcendental meditative state in which thoughts are present, as Ramana Maharshi did in the famous self-induced near-death-experience that purportedly set him free. But, again, this is highly unlikely unless one has been exposed to the wisdom of Vedanta – and by “Vedanta” I mean the knowledge conveyed by any spiritual tradition that accords with the non-negatable truth of existence as revealed in the Upanishads – by a qualified teacher.
As for nirvikalpa samadhi, it is not a legitimate path for moksha because, as mentioned, “enlightenment,” self-realization, or liberation is fundamentally a matter of the eradication of ignorance through the assimilation of self-knowledge. During nirvikalpa samadhi, however, the intellect (buddhi), which is the instrument of knowledge, has been withdrawn into the causal body and is, thus, in a state of dormancy. Therefore, even though the Vedantic sage Vidyaranya Swami refers to this state as a “raincloud of dharma” in the text, Panchadasi, because during it enormous numbers of vasanas are burned up as their allure is rendered powerless in the face of the experience of the reflection of pure attributeless awareness, no knowledge can be gleaned from nirvikalpa samadhi since neither the experiencing entity, the apparent individual person, nor the instrument of knowledge, the intellect, were present to process the knowledge contained in it.
In the words of Ramana Maharshi, “Through knowledge alone is the self known.”
NDM: What is your take on Ramesam’s correlates of a jivanmukta? Do you have these traits for example?
Ted Schmidt: Theoretically this list of correlates of a realized being (jivanmukta), or one who has “attained” liberation while still living in a body, would seem to provide us with a nice little tidy list of symptoms by which we could determine with certainty whether a person was “enlightened” or not.
Interestingly, there are several passages in the Bhagavad Gita that deal with the issue of the signs by which a jivanmukta can be identified. In the second chapter, Arjuna asks Krishna, “How does such a person, whose mind is not shaken by anything, speak, sit, and walk?” By having Arjuna formulate the question in terms of the style that characterizes a realized being’s behavior, Vyasa implies the idea that the jivanmukta tends to enjoy certain characteristics. In response, however, Krishna points out that the jivanmukta cannot be readily determined by specific behaviors, but rather by various qualities of mind, such as discrimination, dispassion, absence of desire, non-attachment, tranquility, forbearance, etc. Though the list is fairly extensive, the qualities enumerated generally correspond to those included on Ramesam’s list.
Of course, the fundamental problem with that idea is that the person, per se, never does get “enlightened.” The realization simply registers in the intellect that the person, the intellect itself, indeed the entire manifestation on both the gross and subtle levels, is nothing more than an object in awareness. So, truly speaking, awareness simply “remembers,” so to speak, what it always was, is, and will be – not that awareness can be measured within the parameters of time and space, since time and space are themselves only objects within its scope – through the mechanism of the mind.
That point aside, however, let’s grant that certain symptoms might obtain in the apparent individual person’s (jiva’s) brain, which is reflected awareness in a gross form, as a result of the realization of its true identity registering in the intellect, which is reflected awareness in a subtle form.
Even so, though this list of correlates and measurable markers seems at first glance quite reasonable, the correlates themselves are defined by subjective experiential interpretations – some of which are quite illogical – of the qualities commonly associated with jivanmuktas.
The quality of universal “love,” for instance, is qualified as maitri, which means “friendliness” or “kindness.” And while it certainly is true that one who sees the entire manifestation as reflected awareness, or God (Isvara), and, moreover, as non-separate from oneself will invariably hold an affectionate attitude toward all beings, it does not follow that the apparent personality of the jivanmukta will always be filled with compassionate, kind, loving thoughts and gushing with warmth and sweetness.
The same holds true for the attitudes/feelings of equipoise, tranquility, happiness, fearlessness, and detachment. These qualities will undoubtedly obtain in the subtle body of the apparent entity with whom the jivanmukta is associated, for each is a reflection of the nature of the self, but it is not necessarily the case that the jivanmukta will always appear relaxed, unconcerned, and be perpetually grinning and giggling.
Though the jivanmukta is not a person, the mind-body-sense complex with which it is associated remains one, and as such continues to be a vehicle for the prarabdha karma that is slated to play out through it. The apparent individual person (jiva) that the jivanmukta appears to be will, thus, continue to be subject to the whole gamut of human psychophysical experience. Certainly, the jivanmukta will neither process nor respond to such experiences in the same way as the samsari, which may be due to or associated with certain neurological activity or chemical levels in the brain. But what happens if the squirts of dopamine abate for a time? Does that mean that the jivanmukta ceases to be a jivanmukta for whatever time transpires until the next squirt occurs? Moreover, does this mean that the jivanmukta is only liberated when he or she is in a feeling friendly, calm, balanced, fearless, detached, and happy? Were such the case, then it would seem that we could easily determine the realized beings by their behavior. Again, this sounds reasonable, but doesn’t take into account the aforementioned issue of prarabdha karma. To illustrate the point, we can consider the diametrically opposed personalities and behaviors of Nisargadatta Maharaj and Ramana Maharshi. Assuming that both these gentlemen were jivanmuktas, I wonder how similar their brain activity and neurochemistry was.
The idea of the absence of a sense of “self” is another ambiguous indicator. On the one hand, it is true that the one who realizes the non-dual nature of reality will no longer harbor the sense of separation or individuality. On the other hand, however, though understanding it to be only apparently real, the apparent person with whom the jivanmukta is associated will retain the sense of personhood and continue to function as a volitional being within the context of the apparent reality. Despite some of the erroneous notions circulating in the “spiritual world,” the jivanmukta can still answer to his or her name, participate in relationships with others, and will have to execute certain actions simply to keep the mind-body-sense complex in good working order.
As for the idea of remaining aware while in the state of deep sleep, this is rather illogical. If the word “aware” refers to the essential reality that is awareness, then it is true that the jivanmukta – and everyone else, for that matter – remains aware during deep sleep, for, as the Mandukya Upanishad points out, the state of deep sleep is nothing more than an object appearing in awareness. If, however, the word “aware” is meant to indicate some kind of conscious processing of subtle data, then the claim the claim makes no sense. If the jivanmukta were processing subtle data, then he or she would either be in the dream state or what we might call the dream aspect (i.e. realm of subjective thought) of the waking state. Finally, the idea that the jivanmukta is always in the “now” is somewhat silly. As mentioned earlier, the apparent individual person with whom the jivanmukta is associated continues to experience psychophysical phenomena just like anyone else. He or she still retains an intellect capable of ruminating on the past and projecting ideas about the future. He or she is free and thus is not going to be confined to the prison of the present moment, so to speak. How would he or she ever make a decision or function in the apparent reality if the intellect had no access to impressions retained from past experiences?
Further complicating the issue of defining the jivanmukta in terms of objective neurological markers is that the mind, which is a subtle function, and the brain, which is a gross instrument, are two completely different objects. Just as the hardware of a computer is simply an instrument for running the programming of its software, so the brain is simply an instrument for executing impulses coming from the vasanas, which we could say are essentially preference-based directives, through the mind.
Moreover, the mind is nothing but the gunas – i.e. sattva (clarity, peace, appreciation, and knowledge), rajas (passion, activity, desire, and projection), and tamas (dullness, inertia, ignorance, and denial) – which are the three fundamental constituents of manifestation. Now, given the fact that (1) the manifestation occurs through a process of grossification called panchikarana and thus the brain is an effect of the mind, and (2) since an effect is essentially nothing other than its cause and thus the brain is therefore nothing other than the three gunas as well, and (3) since no object in awareness is devoid of any guna for the simple reason that everything in the manifestation is constituted of a combination of all three gunas in various proportions, it follows necessarily that the mind/brain of the jivanmukta will harbor all possibilities. In addition, as the fundamental constituents of an ever-changing apparent reality, the three gunas are themselves in an inherent state of constant flux and, therefore, any of the three can predominate at any time within the mind of the apparent individual person. Though the gunas are influenced to a relative degree through behavior and thus the general quality of the mind can be regulated to a certain extent, the fluctuation of the gunas is largely beyond the control of the individual. Even in the mind of a jivanmukta, therefore, any of the three gunas could predominate at any time.
The whole argument about the chemistry of the brain being a valid indicator of self-realization is specious because the chemistry of the brain is constantly changing and what behaviors that ensue as its consequence it can be easily misread by an outsider, maya, or “Mama Ignorance,” being the great deceiver that she is.
Finally, the jivanmukta, as mentioned earlier, is actually nothing other than awareness, and awareness is not bothered by the chemistry of the brain and how it correlates to various states of mind.
The bottom line is that only awareness knows that it is awareness, not some apparent individual person who is “enlightened.” This notion of it being an “enlightened” individual is an erroneous interpretation of the term jivanmukta. The very idea of a jivanmukta is a concession to ignorance, a projection of the apparent (mithya) on the real (satya).
So even if there is some kind of unique chemistry associated with jivanmuktas, so what? In practical terms, why would it matter? Would we hope to eventually develop a battery of medical tests that would determine whether particular teachers were indeed “enlightened” as they say they are and, thus, hope to prevent charlatans from misleading the masses? Or might we develop a pharmaceutical means of “attaining enlightenment” by chemically regulating the brain through pills or injections? The inherent flaw in such notions is that both assume self-knowledge to be experiential in nature. And the latter fails to provide a means of eradicating ignorance, which is the fundamental problem that lies at the heart of all suffering and the removal of which is the only means of gaining moksha, which is by definition is entirely free of all dependence on objects.
To be honest, the whole idea reeks of the notion that a jivanmukta is somehow some kind of superior person worthy of special status. And while this is the prevalent notion in the “spiritual world,” it is a notion rooted in ignorance and is perhaps the most insidious form of spiritual materialism, not the mention it being one of the chief reasons that so few seekers become finders, so to speak.
I don’t mean to completely discredit the list of markers, but simply want to point out that using objective indicators to determine self-knowledge is a bit of a tricky issue. Such is acknowledged in the article by Ramesam himself, so let’s just say that the theory is interesting but inconclusive.
As for whether or not I have any of these traits, I’ll just say that on the one hand I don’t have any traits, and on the other I haven’t undergone any neurological testing to measure the chemical activity in my brain so I can’t say one way or the other. Stuart Sovatsky: Vedanta, Taoism, Buddhism, Judeo-Christian Gnosticism, Mystical Sufism, all laud sexual transcendence of duality and desire verified by transcendence of sex, from Buddha to Dalai Lama and millions of others in India over the millenniums. Has modern non-dualism created something new where sex and desire are not transcended?
Ted Schmidt: Though I’m guessing that the crux of your question is whether or not sexual desire need be altogether transcended in order for one to “attain enlightenment,” I’m going to begin by addressing a different but related issue broached – most likely inadvertently – in your opening statement, which is indirectly pertinent to the topic and will provide some parameters for a logical inquiry into it.
Your phrase “sexual transcendence of duality” sounds like the intended result of some Tantric practice. Were that the case, there are two fundamental problems with such a practice in terms of its efficacy with regard to self-realization or the permanent transcendence of duality, which Vedanta defines as moksha, or liberation.
First of all, any sexual experience, no matter how grand or cosmic or transcendental, is nothing more than an objective phenomenon. In other words, it is something that is known to you. In this regard, Vedanta says that there are only two things in existence….(actually Vedanta says there is only one, or “not two” (advaita) as it were, but for the purposes of analysis – and in accordance with its fundamental teaching methodology of adhyaropa-apavada, or superimposition and negation – it provisionally grants the existence of two vastus, or realities)….and these two things are the subject, which is you, and the object, which is the entire array of experienceable phenomena, both gross and subtle, known to you. It is important to understand in this regard, however, that the subject or the “you” to which Vedanta is referring is not the relative knower or jiva (i.e. the apparent individual person that most people take themselves to be), but rather pure limitless, ever-present, all-pervasive awareness, which is the true identity of each and every jiva, or apparent individual person. While pure awareness is eternal (i.e. not of lengthy duration, but rather entirely beyond the parameters of time and space), all objective phenomena are temporary. All are inherently defined by the spatiotemporal boundaries that render them observable, identifiable, and experienceable, and therefore all objects and experiences arise, abide, and then subside. This being the case, no inherently limited experience enjoyed by an inherently limited object – for even the apparent individual person is nothing more than an object appearing within the scope of awareness – can produce permanent fulfillment, satisfaction, peace, or happiness. Hence, while one may transcend the sense of duality, merge with his or her partner, and perhaps even “dissolve into the ocean of existence” during the sexual act, this experience will eventually suffer the same fate as does all experience. Simply put, it will end. Therefore, while the experience may provide one with a valuable glimpse into a “larger” reality, the transcendence of duality through sex – or, for that matter, any experience – is not a valid means of “attaining enlightenment,” or gaining permanent peace, happiness, and freedom.
Secondly, the intrinsic risk of any experience in terms of moksha, or liberation, is its potential for creating a binding vasana, which is a compelling desire that extroverts one’s attention and consequently obstructs one’s ability to engage in effective self-inquiry and thereby gain the self-knowledge that sets one free. The word “vasana” literally means “fragrance.” Every experience, metaphorically speaking, leaves a fragrance or impression that is stored in the subconscious or causal body. These impressions are the foundations of our desires and fears. In other words, those impressions left by pleasurable experiences create the desire repeat such experiences, and those impressions left by painful experiences create a fear of or the desire to avoid such experiences. Each time we repeat an experience its associated vasana grows stronger. Oft-repeated actions and experiences, thus, become habitual tendencies, and if continually indulged our desires and fears become binding in the sense that they co-opt our free will, compel us to act at their behest, and essentially make us the slaves of our cravings. Moreover, not only do these binding desires disturb our peace of mind, they deprive us of our inherent freedom by insidiously sustaining our sense of being a separate independent doer. Rather than freeing us from the erroneous identification with the mind-body-sense complex with which we are associated, therefore, binding vasanas only serve to strengthen it.
For these reasons, it is obvious that using sex – or, for that matter, any discrete experience – as a means for gaining liberation simply does not work. All sensorial experiences, emotional states, and mystical visions will inevitably end. As mentioned, transcendental experiences and mystical epiphanies may be valuable for offering a glimpse of a “larger,” “deeper,” “broader,” or subtler reality, but the experiences themselves do not constitute “enlightenment,” which Vedanta defines as moksha, or the permanent freedom that is the direct result of self-knowledge. While such experiences can inspire one’s spiritual quest, the only real value of any “spiritual” or transcendental experience is the knowledge it contains. If one is able to properly interpret the experience, assimilate the understanding of the limitless nature of the self that was revealed by the experience, and retain that knowledge even after the experience ends, then we might say that the experience was a catalyst for self-realization. Even so, however, it is not the experience that set one free, but rather the knowledge gleaned from it. Almost invariably, however, it is the case that the person having the experience is too overwhelmed by and caught up in the experience to effectively process the knowledge it has to offer, and once the experience ends the person has gained nothing more than a desire to repeat and ideally sustain the experience indefinitely. The sensorial experience, emotional state, or mystical vision has thus become simply another object of pursuit in the relentless yet inevitably doomed quest for permanent experiential or objective fulfillment. Thus, rather than getting free of the duality, one has only become more bound to it.
Having said that, let’s now consider whether sex and desire need be transcended in order for duality to be transcended and “enlightenment,” or the assimilation of self-knowledge that constitutes liberation, to take place.
Though it has gotten a bad rap over the millennia, desire – perhaps most notably sexual desire – is not actually the demon it is made out to be. As with any aspect of duality, it can be either bad or good, which in terms of the “spiritual quest” (i.e. the quest for self-knowledge) means it can either be an obstruction or an aid to understanding the true nature of reality and assimilating the knowledge of one’s true identity as pure limitless awareness.
Buddhism, of course, says that desire is the cause of all suffering and therefore unequivocally asserts that the transcendence of all desire is a necessary prerequisite for “enlightenment.” Vedanta, however, takes this line of reasoning one step further and points out that desire is only a symptom of a deeper existential malady: the feelings of inadequacy and incompleteness that arise out of ignorance of one’s true nature as whole and complete, limitless, all-pervasive, ever-present, non-dual awareness. In other words, one only desires things because of the erroneous notion that one is lacking in some way. Hence, the problem is not desire per se, but rather our attachment to certain desires based on the erroneous belief that satisfying them – i.e. obtaining the object, achieving the goal, attaining the position, sustaining the state, etc. – will end once and for all our existential angst and feelings of inadequacy and incompleteness and bring us lasting happiness, permanent peace, total fulfillment, and eternal freedom. For this reason, Vedanta focuses upon the removal of avidya, or self-ignorance, rather than the eradication of desire. As the mind is gradually purified through various spiritual practices, such as karma yoga, bhakti, jnana yoga, triguna-vibhava yoga, and meditation, one’s binding vasanas are mitigated and consequently no longer disturb the mind with their incessant demand for satisfaction. Having been recognized for the gratuitous, fleeting, and ultimately unfulfilling pleasures that they are, any remaining desires thereby lose their power to distract one from self-inquiry or obstruct the assimilation of self-knowledge. Thus, rather than totally nullifying all desires, one need simply neutralize their extroverting effect.
Moreover, it should be understood that desires in general are not under the control of the apparent individual person (jiva) in which they arise. Though it seems that the desires arising within a particular individual belong to that person, such is not the case. Admittedly, those desires are the offspring of the vasanas associated with and expressing through the person’s subtle body, but the person did not choose to have those vasanas. And while one might make the case that those vasanas are the result of the person’s past actions, perhaps even those performed in past lives, if we were to trace the entire chain of cause-and-effect back to its initiatory cause we would find that such was not the result of any individual’s free will. In other words, while the very first individual may have hypothetically chosen to act on his or her desire for lion meat and thus set in motion an entire series of actions that have ensued to this day, the fact that very first individual would like lion meat rather than dislike it was neither determined nor decided by him or her. Following this line of reasoning leads to the inevitable conclusion that all vasanas or desires arise spontaneously from the macrocosmic causal body, or what might be called the field of pure potentiality, which is personified as God-the-Creator, or Isvara. Thus, truly speaking, all desires are essentially God’s (Isvara’s) desires, so to speak. The apparent individual person (jiva), therefore, is nothing more than a machine or vehicle with which certain desires are associated and through which these desires seek expression in the grand drama of the apparent manifestation.
This is not to say that from the standpoint of the apparent individual person one has no apparent power or free will. Within the context of the manifested universe, the apparent individual person (jiva) does seem to enjoy a modicum of influence concerning the transactions, both gross and subtle, incessantly occurring, and thus the person may execute actions that affect the degree to which the vasanas are binding or non-binding. But in terms of the apparent individual’s quest for “enlightenment,” or liberation, it is neither necessary nor desirable to totally eradicate all one’s desires, for once the vasanas are exhausted (at least those slated for expression through a particular physical instrument) there is no longer any need for a body and the person dies. And while one might argue that death is the ultimate liberation, such a transformation of energy – which is actually all that occurs at the time of so-called “death” since, as even science will attest, no energy is ever created or destroyed – does not inevitably result in the self-knowledge that sets one free from the erroneous notion that one is somehow separate from or other than limitless awareness, which is obvious from the fact that subtle bodies still seeking “enlightenment,” so to speak, continue to reincarnate. Only self-knowledge can permanently set one free.
In a nutshell, then, sexual desire, or any desire for that matter, is only a problem if it interferes with one’s ability to conduct successful self-inquiry and ultimately assimilate self-knowledge. If one is constantly badgered by thoughts of how to get and keep the object of one’s desire, is continually compelled to execute actions designed to get and keep the object, and is incessantly bothered by emotions evoked by the prospect of getting, the chore of keeping, or the grief of losing the object, then there is a problem. If, however, one is able to enjoy the object if or when the opportunity arises and is able to just as easily live without it and is thus bothered neither by its presence nor its absence, its gain nor its loss, then the desire is not an issue. There are, therefore, no hard and fast rules regarding what desires and behaviors are acceptable or not acceptable for those seeking self-knowledge. But determining what may or may not be deleterious to one’s practice of self-inquiry requires complete honesty if one is sincere about getting free. It is easy for the ego to fool the intellect into thinking that gratuitous objects of desire are necessities and to find all kinds of arguments to justify one’s extroverting indulgences. Perhaps the best method of dealing with desires is to practice moderation with regard to indulging them and to constantly monitor their appearance and inquire into why they are arising. Invariably, there will be some element of ignorance about one’s true nature that has given rise to the erroneous notion that one needs the desired object in order to overcome some feeling inadequacy or sense of incompleteness. Gradually, through the continual application of such inquiry, one will come to recognize the ways in which ignorance subconsciously impels desire, and having exposed these habitual tendencies in the light of understanding can free oneself from their control. In this way, binding desires will naturally be neutralized through self-knowledge rather than personal will. In other words, the transcendence of desire is a matter not of abstinence but understanding, not of disengagement but dispassion.
Hence, “modern non-duality,” as you put it, has NOT created some new means of gaining the self-knowledge that grants liberation.
First of all, there is no such thing as “modern non-duality.” The term advaita, which means “not two” and is the term used most commonly to denote non-duality, is the fundamental nature of reality. As such, it is not new. Nor, for that matter, is it old. Truly speaking, it transcends the parameters of time and space altogether. It is simply the nature of the limitless awareness in which even those most subtle objects, time and space, appear.
Second, if what you mean by “modern non-duality” is the subset of the “spiritual world” known as Neo-Advaita, then it would almost seem as if this group prides itself on pointing the way toward some sort of spiritual wormhole through which a seeker can zip straight that most exalted state of non-existence, completely bypassing any type of preparatory sadhana, or spiritual practice, that might purify the mind, neutralizes the vasanas, and prime one for the disciplined application of self-inquiry through which one might gain self-knowledge. Lacking any semblance of a practical methodology that provides of means of escape for the individual still caught in the whirlpool of worldly life (samsara), the Neo-Advaitans admonish the seeker to simply “get it,” resting their entire case on the adamant assertion that in a non-dual reality there is by definition no path, no teacher, no method, no person, no world, no bondage and, hence, no doer nor any deleterious desires – including, as it were, any related to sex – with which to be dealt. Though admittedly from the standpoint of pure awareness this teaching reflects the highest truth it holds little value as an aid to “enlightenment,” for it offers no practical methods by means of which the presently deluded individual can purify his or her mind and through logical analysis come to understand the true nature of the seemingly paradoxical apparent co-existence of the ostensible dualistic manifestation and the essential reality that is non-dual awareness. Hence, while we have thoroughly examined the erroneous nature of the notion that any and all desire need be completely transcended in order to attain “enlightenment,” the Neo-Advaita’s comprehensive dismissal of any and all spiritual practice and the need for any mental purification cannot be taken seriously as a valid means of attaining moksha, or the total freedom of which they speak.
Stuart Sovatsky: Is this a higher state than what Buddha and founder of advaita, Adi Shankara, taught to monks and lay people and lived personally?
Ted Schmidt: If I understand correctly, this question is concerned with whether or not the non-transcendence of sexual desire is a higher state than the transcendence of it.
If we take a logical approach to this issue, then in light of what I explained earlier about the potentially binding power of vasanas it would seem that, to the contrary, the transcendence of sexual desire is the higher state. One who had truly transcended all desire for sex would be free of the burden of any possible psychological agitation caused by such a desire and, therefore, might enjoy a more peaceful life, depending of course on how much agitation he or she suffers due to any other desires that might still arise within him or her. Since peace is peace, however, the peace enjoyed by the person who has transcended sexual desire would not differ from that enjoyed by the person who has not, but for the one who has truly transcended sexual desire the peaceful state of mind may obtain for a longer period of time.
Whether sexual desire has been totally transcended or not, however, as long as the sexual vasana has been rendered non-binding, any minor agitation it might cause would make no difference in terms of the individual’s ability to conduct successful self-inquiry and assimilate the self-knowledge that grants total freedom, which is all that really matters in terms of “enlightenment.”
Despite the overwhelmingly popularity of the notion, self-realization is NOT some eternally orgasmic experience or state of being. Neither is it the case that the liberation touted throughout the scriptures is some mystical state in which the apparent individual person (jiva) transcends the laws that govern the manifested universe and the rules that maintain the social order and is thereafter able to do whatever he or she wants without consequence. To the contrary, the apparent individual person (jiva) will never attain complete freedom, for by definition the apparent individual is a limited entity, confined within the boundaries of the mind-body-sense complex and transacting within a field demarcated by time and space. Hence, rather than freedom FOR the apparent person, the true meaning of moksha is freedom FROM the apparent person. Ultimately, whether or not the total transcendence of sexual desire that manifests as sexual abstinence is a higher state than the neutralization of sexual desire sustained through understanding and moderate indulgence matters little in terms of the self-knowledge that is tantamount to moksha, or true freedom. The self, which is pure limitless awareness, is not a state. All states, no matter how transcendent or emotionally satisfying, are nothing more than apparent objects arising within awareness and as such are impermanent. Once this is understood, then no particular state need be cultivated or clung to. Though the states depend upon awareness in order to be known, eternally self-existent awareness remains ever independent of them all.
NDM: So what about the case of someone like this Swami, who appears to have had a problem with violating his vows of celibacy? What would this indicate to you in terms of him being a jivanmukta or not? http://www.shiningworld.com/top/images/stories/April_8_2012/The_Swami_Violates_Dharma.pdf
Why would "awareness" be interested in sex for example?
Ted Schmidt: Awareness is not a person, so it is not interested in anything, per se. Moreover, awareness is purno’ham, or perfectly full, whole and complete. So being, even were it an entity prone to thought and volitional action, it would have no desire for anything as it already has – or, more accurately, is – everything.
That said, when pure awareness for some unknown reason falls under the delusory spell of its own inherent power of ignorance, or – to put it in technical Vedantic terms – when Brahman is conditioned by maya upadhi, one of the forms it assumes or appears as is the apparent individual person.
As unromantic as it may be, this apparent person is essentially nothing more than an intricate mechanism comprised of three bodies, one of which is gross and the other two subtle, consisting of nineteen essential components that each plays a unique and integral role in the perception-response process that defines experience. Illumined by awareness, this machine functions non-stop for as long as the collection of desire-driven actions slated to play out through this particular machine lasts. In other words, as long as the store of prarabdha karma associated with the apparent individual lasts the person will continue to live, and as soon as that store runs out the person will die.
In this light, it is important to note that prarabdha karma – or any karma for that matter – is essentially composed of vasanas, which are the impressions of past experience that reside in a latent state in the causal body and are the basis of one’s preferences and predilections, one’s likes and dislikes, one’s desires and fears. Once acquired, these vasanas, which can basically be equated with specific desires, will inevitably seek expression through an appropriate body-mind-sense complex functioning within an appropriate context, which is what accounts for the phenomenon of reincarnation. The particular collection of vasanas that migrate to a particular mind-body-sense complex in its fetal state and will eventually find expression through the apparent individual person into which it develops constitute the prarabdha karma of that person.
Because prarabdha karma is inert subtle matter in form of desire, it is not a sentient entity. In other words, though its essential constitution is desire and it assumes the form of desire-driven action as it is processed through the mind-body-sense machine, so to speak, it has neither a personal sense of preference nor a volitional will. Thus, prarabdha karma does not care if the apparent individual person with whom it is associated and through whom it is slated to play out is enlightened or not. Just as a river flows relentlessly yet without personal intention to the sea, so prarabdha karma, once set in motion, plays out ceaselessly yet indiscriminately according to its nature within the context provided for it by the apparent individual’s life circumstances, whatever they may be.
The bottom line, here, is that while “enlightenment” or self-knowledge liberates the apparent individual from identification with his or her vasanas and, thus, from the prarabdha karma that is their expression and in this way renders the vasanas non-binding, it does not necessarily eradicate their internal appearance as thoughts or their external expression through deeds. Once the vasanas have been neutralized or rendered non-binding through knowledge, however, they no longer have the power to convince one that their satisfaction will bring one lasting peace and happiness, and thus the person will no longer feel compelled to act at their behest, so to speak. Knowing that no object can give one that which one already has – i.e. perfect wholeness and complete freedom – one ceases the gratuitous quest for transitory objective happiness and abides as eternal unobjectifiable joy itself. Now, he or she is free to joyfully engage the objects and experiences with which he or she is presented, but is no longer bound by the erroneous expectation that they be the source of joy.
Thus, the jnani is free to engage in appropriate sex, cultivate romantic relationship, and even commit to marriage.
In the case of Swami Suddhananda, however, the sex vasana was still binding. Though his sexual activity was a violation of dharma associated with the role of a lifestyle sannyasin, or official renunciant, his transgression of dharma was not fundamentally rooted in the simple fact that he had sex, but rather in the fact that his uncontrollable urges compelled him to perpetrate various deceptive, manipulative, and otherwise abusive actions.
Eckhart Tolle, on the other hand, assuming his romantic relationship was not compelled by the expectation that the emotional support and/or sexual stimulation offered by another person would bring him permanent happiness, is free as a jnani to do whatever he wants. If he wishes to enjoy a lasting and formally recognized bond with another person, he is free to do so. His choice to function within the context of a marital bond is not necessarily a symptom of some unresolved feeling of inadequacy and incompleteness and, moreover, need have no effect on his internal conviction concerning his true nature as pure limitless and inherently free awareness.
This is where enlightenment and the neutralization of the vasanas gets tricky. Only the person with whom the vasanas are associated knows if he or she is truly free of them. One has to be fearlessly honest with oneself concerning this. If one is not so, then the freedom that is the inherent nature of a jnani can be co-opted by the ego and used to justify all kinds of sordid and adharmic actions. While eventually self-knowledge will root out all binding vasanas, all binding vasanas won’t necessarily be immediately eradicated upon the realization of one’s true nature as pure limitless awareness. The assimilation of the implications of this knowledge may take some time. Therefore, we cannot necessarily judge a jnani by its cover, so to speak.
The jnani’s recognition of his or her inherently free nature as pure limitless awareness, however, does not afford him or her the license to wantonly violate dharma, or universal ethical law, nor does it alleviate the person as whom the jnani appears from accountability for his or her actions within the context of the apparent reality. Justifying adharmic behavior with claims of non-doership on behalf of the apparent actor and essential unreality or illusory nature of the actions themselves betrays a gross misunderstanding of the fundamental nature of reality and the mutual exclusivity of the two fundamental ontological orders – i.e. the real (satya) and the “not real,” “dependently real,” or apparent (mithya). The inherently free nature of pure awareness (Brahman-atma), which is absolutely real (satya), cannot be superimposed upon the intrinsically limited nature of reflected awareness (pratibimba), which is only apparently real (mithya). Indeed, such erroneous mutual superimposition is the defining characteristic of ignorance.
Steeped in self-knowledge, the true jnani will no longer feel the pressure from binding vasanas pushing him or her to pursue objective sources of happiness with such intensity that he or she is willing to transgress dharma if necessary to acquire or accomplish them. Free from the potentially compromising influence of compelling likes and dislikes, the jnani will naturally conform with dharma because he or she knows there is nothing to gain by not doing so.
Rather than seeking happiness from experiences, the jnani values peace of mind above all else and, therefore, will spontaneously act in a way that affords peace of mind, so to speak – though, again, it bears emphasizing that the peace of mind does not come for or is not afforded by the experience or action itself.
Hence, needing no objective phenomenon to fulfill him or her, and moreover valuing the uncaused peace of mind that is the most accurate reflection of his or her true nature as pure awareness, the jnani will not act in ways that cause agitation to him or herself, harm others, or otherwise impinge upon the inherently benevolent and judicious functioning of the macrocosmic mechanism that is the apparent reality or manifest universe.
NDM: But what about judging a tree by its fruits? Yes, is this not like having ones cake and eat it too?
For example, the desire to use heroin or cocaine and so on. If the desire is there, and if one doesn’t have the self-restraint, self-discipline, or control of their mind-body complex, then isn’t one most likely going to act out on them? Then where is the freedom from these fetters? Do you mean the freedom of a Brahmarakasa? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brahmarak%E1%B9%A3asa
Ted Schmidt: Like I said, the jnani, like every other person, should be held accountable for his or her apparent actions. My point is that just as the blades of a fan that has been switched off will takes some time to cease revolving, so the binding vasanas of someone who has gained self-knowledge will take some time to “burn out” completely. The difference between the jnani and the samsari, or self-ignorant individual, is that the jnani will see the essential emptiness of these desires and tendencies – that is, their inability to provide permanent fulfillment – and will no longer be compelled to satisfy them. Thus, the jnani will not be a mindless slave to his or her proclivities and will be empowered by knowledge to resist their gratuitous demands.
Moreover, in order to have become a jnani in the true sense of the word – meaning that the apparent person has not actually become anything other that what he or she already is, but has simply realized and assumed with unshakable conviction his or her true identity as pure awareness – the apparent person will have to have the necessary qualifications enumerated in the scriptures, among which are discrimination (viveka), dispassion (vairagya), control of the mind (shama), control of the senses (dama), introspection (uparatti), and concentration (samadhana). Thus, the jnani will invariably have the degree of self-restraint, self-discipline, and control of his or her mind-body-sense complex to neutralize his or her binding vasanas in no time.
Of course, at the same time, it should be borne in mind that the jnani, strictly speaking, is not a person. Yes, yes, the person whom the jnani appears to be should and invariably will follow the rules to the degree necessary not to upset the dharmic apple cart, so to speak. But pure awareness, which is what – if it can be called a “what” – the jnani knows him or herself to be, is not in the least affected by any thought, word, deed, event, circumstance, situation, or experience in the apparent reality. So from the ultimate perspective the jnani is free to do any damn thing it wants. If you really want to get right down it, all of the behavioral injunctions that constitute dharma, or universal moral law, serve only two purposes: ensuring the smooth operation of the mechanism of the manifested universe and cultivating a mind peaceful enough to assimilate self-knowledge. Therefore, once one has realized the essential unreality of the manifestation and has assimilated the hard and fast knowledge of one’s true identity as pure limitless awareness, what does it matter what one does?
Another aspect of this picture that needs to be understood is that not all vasanas need to be eradicated before one can gain self-knowledge. In fact, since the gross body of the individual has been determined by the vasanas in the form of one’s past actions and the subtle body of the individual is essentially nothing but the effects of the vasanas currently stored in the causal body, it becomes obvious upon analysis that if all the vasanas are eradicated, then the individual dies. In light of this understanding what we come to realize is that the vasanas only need to be neutralized to the extent that their power to extrovert the mind is subverted and one is able to practice the objective self-inquiry that inevitably leads to the assimilation of self-knowledge.
Hence, we find ourselves facing an apparently irresolvable paradox. While on the one hand we have jnanis – assuming they were jnanis – like Nisargadatta Maharaj, who smoked and ate meat, and Swami Chinmayananda, who was addicted to snuff, on the other hand we can still rest confident in the fact that as a result of self-knowledge, the jnani is naturally going to uphold dharma.
And I am not referring here to the type of freedom enjoyed by a brahma rakshasa. Such a being is one who lived an essentially adharmic life. Though the apparent person did have knowledge of the scriptures, that knowledge remained only indirect, intellectual knowledge. The apparent person apparently never got over his identification with the apparent person he appeared to be. That is to say, he may have known of the self, but had not realized his true identity as the self. Hence, the apparent person remained a slave to the vasanas, ever searching for some objective phenomenon to alleviate his existential suffering and establish him is a state of eternal bliss.
NDM:
Ted, how do you interpret this in red below?
Ted Schmidt: There are several key concepts contained in the highlighted verses that need to be properly understood in order to accurately assimilate the intended meaning of Ashtavakra’s counsel.
First of all, the sage speaks of “lusting after sordid sexual objects” and being “subject to lust” and continuing to “hanker after sensuality.” All of these references imply the binding nature of the vasanas driving one to continue to seek fulfillment through sex. If we consider Ashtavakra’s comments in light of the insight he imparts in the fourteenth verse, we can readily see that it is not the object – which in this case is sex, but could be any gross or subtle objective phenomenon – that is the problem, but the individual’s obsession or preoccupation with it. As Ashtavakra points out in the fourteenth verse, any object that presents itself within one’s scope of experience can be enjoyed, which is implied through the qualification of the object as being one of enjoyment, but for the wise person will not be a source of either pain or pleasure. In other words, the wise person will know him or herself to be the source of joy and, therefore, will not lust or hanker after any given object or experience with the expectation that it be the font of fulfillment.
Second, there is a fundamental misnomer in the sixth verse regarding non-dual knowledge. Though its common occurrence in the scriptures is quite understandable given the limitations of inherently dualistic language to express that which is ever-present, all-pervasive, limitless, and without a second, the reference to non-dual knowledge as a “state” is misleading and almost invariably gives rise to certain erroneous ideas and assumptions about the nature of self-realization. To be clear, the self is not a state that one reaches. The self is one’s very nature – whether one knows it or not. Any “reaching” that is accomplished is purely in the sense of understanding, not in the sense of arriving at some distant destination from which one has been or is currently separate. While as objective phenomena all states are by definition experienceable, the self, which as pure awareness is attributeless and self-existent altogether beyond the parameters of time and space (i.e. the time-space continuum itself being but the subtlest object within the scope of awareness), is not. Hence, neither the self nor the knowledge of it can be defined as a particular experiential state of being, much less one rigidly characterized by either desire or indifference or by sensory indulgence or withdrawal.
Third, the understanding that the “supreme non-dual state” actually refers to self-knowledge rather than the acquisition or accomplishment of some discrete objective experience makes the idea that one who has already gained self-knowledge can be “held back” from that knowledge “by sexual activity” seem rather illogical. Due to the unique nature of self-knowledge, the implication of this statement only makes sense with reference to a seeker who has gained indirect knowledge of the self, but has not yet assimilated the direct understanding of his or her true identity as the self. Self-knowledge is different from relative knowledge. Relative knowledge relies upon perception or inference and is defined by the accumulated information one has about an object. Self-knowledge, however, is not a matter of accumulated information, but rather of the direct apprehension of what already is. Thus, it is not dependent on memory. Once one knows the self, one cannot forget it, for the self is the very awareness that is the fundamental substratum of one’s existence. Existence and awareness are two sides of the same coin, so to speak, and as such are essentially the same thing. Therefore, once one understands one’s true nature as awareness, no memory is required to maintain that knowledge. In short, because one is, one knows one is. And once this knowledge is known, no experience – sexual or otherwise – can erase it.
The fourteenth verse quite succinctly sums up the relationship between sensual restraint and self-realization. One whose binding vasanas have been neutralized (i.e. “who has eliminated attachment”), whose understanding of the non-dual nature of reality has enabled him to stand with unshakable conviction in his or her true identity as whole and complete limitless awareness (i.e. “who is free from dualism”), and whose realization of the inherent incapability of limited objective phenomena to provide limitless fulfillment has imbued him with a dispassionate attitude toward such pursuits (i.e. “who is free…from desire) enjoys/experiences whatever objective pleasure or pain presents itself to him (i.e. “comes of itself”) with indifference (i.e. thus rendering it “neither painful nor pleasurable”) and does not feel compelled to seek lasting satisfaction and happiness through any such objective phenomena having recognized himself as the eternal source of all peace and joy.
NDM: I do not want to belabor this point and we may be going around in circles
here, but if Ekhart got “apparently” married so long
after his liberation, then why would not a monastic like Chinmayananda, after
his liberation, do an about face, renounce being a monastic and then also get
“apparently” married?
Ted Schmidt: I’m not a expert on the tradition of lifestyle sannyas and, therefore, can’t respond the societal role that the renunciants may have fulfilled in Shankara’s day and age and why the tradition perseveres to this day. I do know that Shankara was trying to codify Vedanta and preserve Vedic dharma, so I’m guessing that he felt there was a need for a legion of “protectors of the faith,” so to speak. And since Vedic culture was duty-oriented, then I’m also guessing that renunciation was viewed as the only viable alternative to a lifestyle as a householder by means of which it was one’s responsibility to produce and rear children to replace oneself in the society and, thus, maintain or ensure the survival of the species. Having realized that life is essentially a zero-sum game, certain people of a particular ilk are cut out for full commitment to a lifestyle of formal renunciation. These individuals are respected by society not necessarily because they are holier than everyone else, but simply for the unique role they play within the macrocosm of society, which depending on their degree of knowledge is basically either that of a committed seeker or an accomplished teacher, and they are sustained by the society simply because their role as an apparent individual warrants that they live off the charity of its members. I guess you could say a low grocery bill is one of the perks of the “job,” so to speak. For those not qualified for this particular, however, you could say the one of its pitfalls is the requirement of sexual abstinence. But while brahmacharya is one of the mandated vows of a lifestyle renunciant, it is not necessarily a requirement for one with self-knowledge. The one qualified for monkhood, whether self-realized or not, will have simply reached a point in his or her life where the desire for sex no longer obtains.
There are others, however, who are just as committed to the self-knowledge and moksha who remain as householders. Even the Brahmin priests within the Vedic tradition are married and produce children. Which is not to say that all Brahmin priests are “enlightened,” but I bet there are more than a few throughout history who have been.
Admittedly, moderation – and perhaps even designated periods of complete abstinence – with regard to one’s sexual activity, which is actually the true definition of brahmacharya, is an aid to one’s sadhana, or spiritual path, because it enables one to neutralize the binding nature, if such obtains, of the sex vasana and, thus, cultivate the dispassionate, peaceful, and introverted mind necessary for practicing effective self-inquiry and ultimately assimilating self-knowledge. And perhaps this is why celibacy was initially advocated and continues to persist as an aspect of the image people have of what the self-realized person is like.
But complete celibacy is not a condition for or a defining characteristic of self-realization.
I’m guessing that the reason Chinmayananda didn’t renounce his vows was that he was qualified for lifestyle sannyasa, and had by all indications transcended to the desire for sex. That doesn’t mean he was more “enlightened,” but simply that he didn’t feel the need to have sex.
As I suggested in my previous reply, sex is not really any different from other modes of desire or indulgence. If I enjoy chocolate ice cream, does that mean that I am not “enlightened”? If I have a cup of coffee, does that indicate I don’t know who I am? If I like to garden or create art or teach Vedanta, does that mean that the presence of such desires precludes me from understanding my true nature? If you consider the whole issue of sex as simply one aspect of the larger issue of desire, it is fairly obvious to see that desire – specifically sexual desire, in this case – is not the problem. The problem is the degree to which one is controlled, compelled, or driven by the desire.
In this light, there is nothing inherently wrong or “unenlightened” about either Eckhart’s betrothal or the possibility that he might make love with his partner now and again. And, really, people need to use some common sense. Such a situation does not equate with being worldly and doing whatever you like – though I am well aware that some idiots who have passed for “spiritual masters” have advocated essentially adharmic behavior under the erroneous justification that the jnani is free to do whatever he or she wants, which is a clear indication that the ego has co-opted the apparent individual’s intellectual understanding and claimed it for itself. But regarding Eckhart, give the poor guy a break. I don’t know him, but by all accounts he is a pretty upstanding guy. If he was trolling the bars night after night looking for a fuck-buddy that would be a different thing altogether, for such behavior would suggest his sex vasana had not been neutralized and he still felt the need for sexual fulfillment, that he might still be somehow compelled by the notion that something intrinsic to his nature was missing without it. And, who knows, that may or may not be how it is for Eckhart specifically. Who’s to say? But whatever Eckhart’s may be, the fact remains that celibacy is not an essential quality of self-realization. As long as one is not controlled by it, sex does not stand in the way of freedom.
END OF INTERVIEW
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