Love Is Greater Ability of Knowing

Swamiji: Raag-dwaysh is understood easily, because raag is liking and dwaysh is disliking: every human being can easily understand that he likes something and dislikes something. That means he has the sense, knowledge, or thought of knowing what it is that he likes and what it is that he does not like. He likes likeable things, but he does not like unlikeable ones. Why do they become unlikeable? When the senses give their verdict that certain things are not beautiful, or not useful, or not conducive to their well-being, then he understands that he dislikes them. A human being becomes established in such a fixed knowledge that he never, never includes, in his understanding, his daily life of ten hours sleep. For ten hours, he has no such sense that he likes something and dislikes something. This means that he is actually free in the awareness that is not associated with the senses, which function in the waking state.

The very association of a human being with the senses causes him to like certain things and to dislike others. That means he cannot be the senses. But if he is not the senses, then what about the mind-sense? If sense is there – maybe it is a sixth sense – it should be included among the five senses. The five senses have likes and dislikes, but the mind, the sixth sense, when it remains zero in deep sleep, has no such sense of liking and disliking that the senses have. That means that by himself he is pure and free – but pure and free when the senses are not glued to him, when they do not touch him, when they are not attached to him, do not catch him, and do not make him behave the way that each sense behaves.

In the waking state everybody says, “My mind, my mind, my mind,” so he repeatedly says, “If the mind is not there, then “my” is not there.” His “my-mind” has become one word, right? It’s not “my“ separate and “mind“ separate, whereas “my chair” has “my“ separate and “chair“ separate. Only in the case of “my mind” is there no separation. We have studied and experimented that the eyes never become “my.“ Suppose they are defective, no one says, “My self is defective.” So the senses are not “my,“ but the mind-sense is “my.“ As long as my mind remains my-mind, which means one reality, it is identification. …

Yuli: You showed me in satsang yesterday – and it was so clear to me – that I should know who I am loving. I know that I love you, and I love you as my own Self. My vision should always be the vision of the Self, the vision of Oneness to know that whoever I love, I love the Self, I never love the body or form.

Swamiji: When you hear the word “body,” your attention is able to catch something which has a body. But when you hear the word “Self,” you cannot compare it with that awareness which is tuned in to the body. If you have body-awareness, then the Self is not being understood. She has understood the fact that “I know I love you.” Why? If among you somebody says, “I love you,” then this is just a phrase. I am trying to place before you that which she has been able to dig, only she has no words to communicate it.  But you have understood that she has succeeded in digging something. What is that? She can safely say, “Swamiji, I love you, and I love you first of all, rather first I love you and then I love Osnat, my sister.” [she had said this the day before in satsang]. She can say this to me. While saying this, she is free, she is shaant [peaceful], she is cool, she is easy, she has surety and certainty, and there is none of the commotion and agitation that comes by loving Osnat. This is love. But when you love someone – and by seeing a beautiful person you love them – immediately your senses will start perking…what is that word? [laughter] Then the whole thing will be different. …

So wherever in love some agitation is there, treat it that it is physical –  physical means of the body, not the Self. So if she says, “I love you, Swamiji,” then in her heart or mind, or from her side, innocence oozes out: innocence means as innocent as a child is – freedom. A child is innocent because he is free. If a child has some mind, then he is not innocent; immediately, something will come. Innocence belongs to the Self. So she has been able to know or realize that “I love my Self as good as I love Swamiji.” While loving her Self, she has no agitation, she has no gain and loss. So wherever gain and loss comes, that is physical love. …

When you say, “I love you,” at that time it is not necessary that you use the words, “I love you.” For “I love you” means, “I get some kind of peace, or some light, such as when it is dark night but even a little moonlight in the forest lets you see the things and forms.” So when she loves me, or it is said, “I love you,” it is only when it means, “You are the object or the person of that light which may grow and remove the darkness of my mind.” When you love me, you definitely know, “There is some kind of happening which makes me love.” “Which makes me love” means “There is some power that makes me inspired into greater ability of knowing.” Then love is correct. If you love someone and you go down, then what is that love?…

So “I love you” does not mean, “I love a face, a form. I love Krishna and Ram. I love to have some darshan [direct seeing of God] in some temple, even for a minute.” This is all mental. If you love and you don’t even get the brightness in your eyes to be able to see, then what is that love? You say, “I love the moon,” then you love the moon. But it should give you something, or you should know that it gives something. Otherwise it is not at all love. People should know what love is. Love is a big word, as raag-dwaysh [attraction-aversion] is a very big word. But I’m saying that if love is there, then you are able to know, “This person whom I love will be able to help in my pursuit.” Then it is good. Otherwise, you see a very fancy car and you say that you love it, but it does not mean that you have anything to do with it. So when you love someone it should be, “Whatever I am, my status of understanding rises.”

She says, “I love you, Swamiji, as my Self.” If she is the Self and I am the Self, then why is it that she has to express “I love you, Swamiji?” Is it not enough that if the Self is there and the Self is here, then she should love her dress, her face and form, and that would be enough? Again you have to understand something: why is it that “I love myself, and I love you, Swamiji?” What’s the difference? …When you say, “I love myself” but then your body is dead over there, then you will come to know, “I never loved the body.” Right? Then, where is the Self?

Mary: The Self is the presence of Awareness.

Swamiji: Yes. The Self is the presence of Awareness. Now you have reached that height of understanding that, whatever I speak here, whoever I am, Guru or not Guru, you somehow know or see the presence of the Self. Even if you do not see it, you close your eyes: Many of you come over here and see, “Oh, he came!” [He closes his eyes in imitation and starts meditating] Then I go [He opens his eyes – laughter]. The eyes are not seeing the Self. The eyes are not loving the Self. When you say, “I love you,” or “I love my Self,” then it is the Self that loves the Self. But your Self is mixed with this I, the body, and it is so identical or identified in a fashion that I remains forever the body. Therefore she [Yuli] cannot understand where the I is. If the same I loves Osnat, her sister, and the same I loves me, then one I must be aware what its power or understanding is to love that and to love this. This will be possible only when you know the nature and the truth of the I. …

If the Self does not reflect beauty, question, and smiles, then how would you conclude that the Self exists? Our dog Sheru, or Ralph, passed, and he was not very beautiful to look at, as small poodles and all those dogs are, yet we all loved him. Every single person in the district –  wherever he would move in the alleys, in the shops, at the Travelers Lodge – everybody loved that dog. Why? Through him the Self reflected its aura and understanding that this dog is par excellant. So if you love me and you do not know that he is par excellant, then anyone is there. … What makes you to love? There is no song, no aarti [ritual worship], no movie, and perhaps no knowledge here. [laughter] So that is where love is – for the Self, for knowledge. Work is a kind of dry wood, but even if you have gyan [knowledge of the Self] for two minutes, you are all lit, you are gyan-fire. You do not understand what the value of gyan and karm [action] is. Everyone emphasizes karm yog: do work, go to the office and do work. Then why do you meditate? Because it’s not that type of karm where you get dry. In meditation you touch the fire of gyan, you touch your Self. …

Everyone who comes over here is all Me. It does not mean that we have to pay attention to their actions and then they are Me. If you are sitting over here, you are Me. It doesn’t matter how many days you come for, whether you speak or do not speak, whether you like to read or write or not, but you are Me. Otherwise you cannot sit over here. … Here I know that you are my Self, you are Me. But just by hearing Me, it’s not enough. In your Me, there’s always me, the body. The way I know Me, you are supposed to know Me. …  The Self is that who is always reflecting its power of knowing through the body. When one knows that same I, then he loves that. He loves that I, she loves that I. But it is through this body, so she says, “I love you as good as I love my sister,” as if her sister is a body and this is a body. No! You have to find out the difference, and when you find out the difference then you will grow in it. That is where the growth lies if you love your Guru. It is very simple. The sun can remove the darkness of the night, but how can the sun remove ignorance? What is that which removes the darkness of the heart? That is You, the Guru. I’ve said, “You, the Guru,” and you immediately went here [to the body]. It is Guru’s sun, it is Guru’s light, it is gyan which removes the darkness.