Light from the Upanishads

Let us explore some of the ideas that are transmitted to us through these ancient, yet modern, sources of wisdom, the Upanishads. In their written form they are ancient, dating back to the millennium before the common era, but the teachings could be much older, having been passed on by word of mouth and memorised. The Upanishads are also modern in their message, and we can point to three aspects of their relevance to us today.

Firstly, the Upanishads are expressions of our search for knowledge—absolute knowledge which satisfies forever our deep need to know—to know such things as the nature of the universe, the meaning and purpose of life, and how we can secure a happiness that is not challenged by fate or death.

Secondly, in the Upanishads we find methods whereby we can pursue this quest for knowledge. It is by cultivating the qualities that aid the inner enquiry. The teachings make it clear that our mind is not only useful when it is active, but much more so when it is peaceful. A tranquil mind brings deeper understanding, particularly about ourselves: what we really are when everything superficial and temporary is set aside and we confront the question: ‘What am I in essence and in truth?’ In this context of inner investigation, the Upanishads show us how to bring our mind to peace, and why it is worthwhile to do so. An ancient verse tells us: ‘That state of the mind when it is made perfectly peaceful—that is the inner condition truly worth investigating.’

A third feature of the Upanishads which fits in with our modern outlook is their universality. Their findings apply to every human being, transcending differences of age, gender, nationality, creed, and so on. It is true that the Upanishads deal with sacred matters, but their ‘god’ is not the god of any particular religion. It is ultimate reality itself—that which is at the core of our experience of the universe and of our own inner being. The knowledge they transmit is Self-knowledge. The method they expound centres on Self-realisation. And their essential message to everyone is: ‘That ultimate reality, which has brought the universe into manifestation, is not different from your own true Self.’

What, then, is meant by ‘ultimate reality’ and how can such a seemingly abstract principle be relevant to our quest for happiness?

In the Upanishads ultimate reality does not refer to the world that registers on our mind through our senses. Both the world and our mind are changing every moment, and what is ever-changing cannot be called real in the deepest sense. But is there anything constant and enduring that the process of change cannot reach? Yes—we will discover such a principle if we turn within and examine more closely our own inner experience. This does not mean giving our attention to the contents of our thoughts. The methods of inner reflection taught in the Upanishads awaken our awareness of the inner light that reveals and accompanies the thinking process but which is not itself a thought. What is this inner light? It is the light of consciousness under which, so to say, thought is revealed, before which the thoughts appear and disappear. This inner light never alters, whether thought is present or not, and it is the clue to the nature of ultimate reality. For the Upanishads guide us in an inner enquiry that will lead to the revelation that the consciousness in the mind is not separate from Consciousness Absolute.

How can such a radical expansion of consciousness be brought about? The process is pursued ‘through’ the mind, until the mind itself is transcended in the realisation of the reality that is beyond the mind. Therefore in the Upanishads we learn how to research the range of our mind, how to recognize its limitations, and how to plumb its hidden depths. These teachings share with us ways and means of examining the process of thinking, of standing back, so to say, from the thoughts, and making our mind tranquil.

Why do we need to make our mind tranquil? Because a quietened mind is a revealing mind. For one thing, in inner tranquillity, we can more clearly understand the difference between the transiency of our thoughts and the unchanging light under which thought is observed—the light of consciousness. And this difference between the mental activity and the unchanging awareness is liberating, for it leads to the recognition that our true identity—our ‘I’—is not the mind at all, but the innermost consciousness that lights and knows the mind.

Thus the Upanishads identify our true Self as pure consciousness. Changes and differences appear in the mind, never in the Self—the revealing consciousness. Self-study and meditation lead us to the realisation that Self is infinite, one alone without a second. So if we ask again, ‘What is ultimate reality?’ we can answer: ‘The true Self.’ Our own innermost Self is recognised as the ultimate reality of experience. Free from change in past, present and future, our Self not only supports all but transcends all. Hence it is realised as all-pervasive, the Absolute.

Central to this exposition of the non-dual philosophy is the use of two Sanskrit words, Atman and Brahman. When we speak of the Self underlying and illumining the individual mind as this innermost, transcendent principle, it is referred to as Atman. Although the word Atman may be used to denote self at all levels, in the Upanishads it nearly always means the innermost principle of consciousness, being and selfhood.

The second word is used when we speak of ultimate reality as the Absolute—that which underlies the whole cosmos. Here the word used is Brahman, a word denoting vastness, universality. The key point is that Atman, Self, and Brahman, the Absolute, are not really two. There is but one reality, and this not-two-ness is what is meant by ‘non-duality’. As a rhymed couplet expresses it:

Self and God are not two.
Nothing is that’s not you.

The purpose of the Upanishads is to awaken us to this identity. In the words of a later text of instruction, the Brahma Sutras, ‘The Upanishads teach Brahman as the Self, and cause it to be known as such.’ This quest leads to ultimate fulfilment. As the greatest exponent of the non-dual teachings, Shri Shankara, has written:

Such indeed is Self-knowledge: it gives one the conviction that one is completely blessed, and it requires no other witness than the testimony of one’s own experience; so what can be better than this?
Shankara’s commentary on the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad

Does this mean that we can simply read the Upanishads and get the answers to the mysteries of life? No. Our spirit of enquiry needs to be more than a passing interest or curiosity. We have to be convinced that these teachings are relevant to us personally and can open a way to higher knowledge. One could say that the teaching has to be lived and loved, so that it brings about an inner transformation that awakens our capacity to recognise that our own being is the source of the pure and perfect knowledge.

The teachings are often presented as dialogues between teacher and pupil. In the Chandogya Upanishad (7:1:1), the pupil, Narada, goes to the teacher, Sanatkumara, and tells him that he has mastered the contemporary field of learning, but he feels no better for it.

Venerable Sir, such as I am, I merely know these subjects intellectually. But I am not a knower of the Self. It has been heard by me, from venerable people like you, that a knower of the Self goes beyond sorrow. Such as I am, I am full of sorrow. O venerable Sir, please take me beyond sorrow.

In the Katha Upanishad, the pupil, Nachiketas, wants to know whether the self is immortal or whether it dies on the death of the body. He is told:

The intelligent Self—the true Self—is neither born nor does it die. It did not originate from anything nor did anything originate from it. It is without birth, eternal, undecaying and ancient. It is not injured even when the body is killed.

In the Chandogya Upanishad, another pupil, Shvetaketu, returns from his academic studies full of conceit. His father, who is a sage, says to him:

O Shvetaketu, now that you are conceited, proud of being a learned man, and immodest like this, did you ask about that instruction through which the unheard becomes heard, the unthought becomes thought, the unknown becomes known?

And the pupil confesses:

My teachers did not give me that instruction. In what way is that instruction imparted? (6:1:2-3)

There are certain mysteries regarding the nature of Self-knowledge. If this knowledge is nearest to us, if it is Self-knowledge, why do we not enjoy it here and now? Why is it the unheard, the unthought, the unknown? The Kena Upanishad approaches the same idea—the mystery of Self-knowledge—in a slightly different way. It says that this knowledge is different from what is known and also other than what is unknown. This in itself is a riddle. How can anything be different from what is known and also other than what is unknown? It must be either the one or the other. The meaning is that we will not find this great reality showing itself in the objective world that we know and see around us, or in the inner world of our thoughts, which is no less objective, since all mental phenomena appear before us as ‘seen’ objects, forms that come and go in the mind. All this is transient. Thoughts, emotions, objects, people, possessions, palaces, continents, suns—all change and vanish in time. But the supreme reality transcends time. In the Upanishads it is called the Immutable, the Imperishable.

Yet ultimate reality is not, and never can be, entirely unknown to us, for it is the true nature of the Self of each and everyone. And the same upanishad, the Kena, calls it ‘the mind of the mind… the life of life’. It is the very consciousness that makes any kind of knowledge possible. As the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad expresses it:

This Immutable is never seen but is the Witness; it is never heard but is the Hearer; it is never thought but is the Thinker it is never known but is the Knower. (3:8:11)

What are these verses telling us? It is that knowledge—infinite and eternal—is the very nature of our real Self. In the words of a later classical text, the Ashtavakra Gita:

My nature is knowledge and nothing other than knowledge. Verily the universe is revealed under the light of myself.

The Self is different from the known and other than the unknown. In a sense our true Self is more than known—for as Self, as the consciousness that underlies and reveals the changing appearances, its presence and power are intrinsic to the process of cognition. But it is not tainted or implicated in the subject-object experiences that it illumines, and its knowledge is ever absolute and perfect. The Brihadaranyaka Upanishad declares that in reality, there is only this great knowledge principle—the Self.

There is no other Witness but This; no other Hearer but This; no other Thinker but this; no other Knower but this. (3:8:11)

The source of consciousness in us is the source of consciousness in all and is the ultimate non-dual Reality. As a verse from a later classic, the Naishkarmya Siddhi (Realisation of the Absolute) puts it:

There is no non-dual reality except the Self.
There is no Self except the eternal witness.

Why is it that truth seems to be the opposite of this? We appear to live in relativity as separate individuals subject to sorrow, frustration and unfulfilment. The non-dual answer is that our conviction that we are the body and the mind is ultimately a false identification. At the same time, our belief that what the senses present to us is the only reality is a mistaken interpretation of experience. But so long as our personality and its world appear compellingly real to us, we need to apply the means that will adjust our mind to the new idea of Self-realisation. This blindness to the true nature of the Self is explained in the Katha Upanishad:

The self-existent Lord created human beings with senses that are directed outwards. Therefore we see the external world and not the indwelling Self. A rare one, endowed with discrimination, turned the sight within, and realised immortality. (2:1:1)

Our natural tendency is to conceive desires for outer things. But there is one supreme desire, which, if pursued, will free us from all delusion. This is the desire for liberation through Self-realisation—for being established in the ground of our being. This overmastering desire leads to the satisfying of desire itself, and forever. For liberation is, as it were, the goal of all our desiring.

In the Chandogya Upanishad, this desire for enlightenment is declared to be the one true desire, because its object is Reality. But this primal urge of our soul is covered by false desires for transient experiences. Why do we say ‘false desires’? It is because these worldly desires are driven by illusory mental pictures and because their fruit is short-lived and perishable. Hence the need to educate our mind in the value of the true desire for enlightenment.

Another explanation of our apparent alienation from this deeper Self-knowledge comes in the Mundaka Upanishad. Here we find the metaphorical expression ‘the knot of the heart’, suggesting a deep obstruction in our being that curtails our freedom. The phrase also appears in the plural: the knots of the heart (as in 3:2:9). What is referred to is the totality of mental tendencies gathered throughout our life and constantly being reinforced by our ways of thinking.

It is worth reflecting that knots are rarely formed by themselves. They are usually tied for a purpose, and a good knot is not likely to get loose by accident. Who has tied these ‘knots of the heart’—these psychological tendencies and impressions that are expressed in the form of the desires that cling to our mind? We ourselves. And this is actually good news, because if we ourselves have tied the knots, then we are in the best position to untie them if we choose to do so.

There is a crucial point that Shri Shankara makes about this apparent human bondage denoted by the phrase ‘the knots of the heart’. It is that the knots are based on one’s heart and not on the Self. Even now our true Self—as the light of consciousness that reveals all experience—is free from any adverse influence. Then what should we do to free ourselves from these restrictions? We have to go on with the inner work—to achieve clear-sightedness through the deepening of our tranquillity. This power of understanding will enable us to discriminate between what is passing and what is eternal, and to pursue that which is everlasting. Our mind will also awaken the capacity to focus on the light at its source and rest in that one-pointed concentration.

This inner communion is the greatest purifying power. It dissolves, so to say, the impediments to enlightenment. In this way, we cultivate an intellect that aids our Self-realisation.

Since one becomes purified in mind through the favourableness of the intellect, therefore one can see that indivisible Self through meditation.
Mundaka Upanishad 3:1:8

Another reason for this inner work is that even for a dedicated enquirer, the ultimate reality is extremely subtle and cannot be comprehended by one’s normal mental faculties. In the words of the Taittiriya Upanishad, it is That ‘from which words turn back baffled, along with thought.’ (2:4:1) Elsewhere, Shankara points out:

Even in ordinary life, we see that among the disciples hearing from the same teacher, someone understands accurately, someone inaccurately, someone understands the opposite, and someone nothing at all. What more need one speak with regard to the knowledge of the real nature of the Self, which is beyond the senses? In this matter, indeed, all philosophers have their misconceptions.

The supreme Reality, Brahman, cannot be defined, only indicated. The last word about the nature of this Reality is ‘neti, neti’, not this, not this. Nonetheless, there are in the Upanishads provisional teachings about the nature of Brahman and its seeming relationship to the world of plurality, which, when meditated upon, can help our mind prepare for enlightenment. Brahman is the ‘cause’ out of which the universe is projected and in which it abides as a phenomenal appearance. A more profound and practical doctrine is that Brahman is existence-consciousness-bliss absolute. This abstract conception serves as a bridge whereby we can realise our oneness with Brahman. For, existence, consciousness and bliss underpin our own human experience. We can reflect on the fact of our own being—our ‘I am’. We can contemplate the light of our own consciousness as that inmost awareness to which our thoughts appear. We can recognise that bliss, or supreme satisfaction, is a fundamental thirst in all human hearts. And we can meditate on existence, consciousness and bliss as indicators of our true Self and not separate from their universal counterpart. Atman is Brahman—this Self is the Absolute when rightly understood. An example of such a meditation, from the book Direct Experience of Reality, is:

I am Brahman, ever the same and most peaceful, by nature reality, consciousness and bliss. I am not the body, which is ever changing and unreal. This the wise call knowledge (jnana). (verse 24)

Even so, the ultimate nature of Brahman, and also of the Self, transcends all attributes and indicators. It is ‘not this, not this’ and ‘there is no duality whatsoever’.

In their essential teachings the Upanishads may appear to be chiefly metaphysical treatises, steeped in abstraction. But they also give guidance on right living, the value of self-control, the need for co-operation, compassion and love. In the Isha Upanishad we read:

One who sees all beings in the very Self, and the Self in all beings, does not hate anyone by virtue of that realisation.

And the Mundaka Upanishad declares: ‘Truth alone triumphs and not untruth.’ (Satyam eva jayate).

Yet over and above this moral dimension of the meaning of the word ‘truth’, the Upanishads uniquely draw attention to the supreme meaning of Truth as the non-dual, absolute Reality underlying the whole cosmos including our own inner world—the reality that is not other than our own being. In the words of the Kena Upanishad:

That which one does not understand with the mind, by which the mind itself is thought of—know That to be Brahman, and not what people worship as an object. (1:6)

Brahman is really known when It is known as the Self of each state of consciousness, because thereby one realizes immortality. (2:4)

B.D.