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Devotee: “How long is the practice to continue?”
The Maharshi replied: “Till success is achieved and until yoga - liberation becomes permanent. Success begets success.
If one distraction is conquered the next is conquered and so on, until all are finally conquered.
The process is like reducing an enemy’s fort by slaying its manpower - one by one, as each issues out.” (Talks #28)
Letter #23 – The Power of Prayer
It is not always obvious what the power of prayer can do.
The most common aspect of prayer is that of a request for assistance from unknown influences. We all have experienced moments of crisis when, not knowing what to do as the immediate situation is beyond our control, we resort to praying to alleviate our suffering or at least give us direction as to what the appropriate next step should be. It is an appeal for support. Who we pray to or how we pray depends to a large extent on what we were taught as children. If that is, were we given real instruction if at all? If not, we feel bereft left to our own devices which already proved to be inadequate.
There are other types of prayer and for those who tread the spiritual path in whatever form, prayer has a different connotation. Prayer is no longer a subtle or raw demand for gratification, but an attitude inculcated in on us from disciplined repetition and remembrance of a respected higher power we recognise as beyond the realm of our thought. Or manipulation. It is a belief in a compassionate higher capability that can guide, nourish and protect us.
Prayer is a thought. The difference from normal human thought is that genuine prayer-thoughts transcends our individual conditioning. It disrupts our safe, dare one say smug opinion of who we think we are. In this sense prayer is iconoclastic, for it breaks apart the seemingly solid image we cherish of ourself. For those who follow Sri Ramana Maharshi one of the most important expressions of prayer is the recitation of Aksharamanamalai or The Martial Garland of Letters. In one hundred and eight verses Sri Ramana extols the glory of the sacred hill, Arunachala that he regarded as his guru. Each verse is a declaration of love and the ardent wish to be absorbed into the mysterious ambiance of Arunachala. By constant repetition it engenders a sense of receptivity. It opens our heart to a superior purpose.
There is a belief that Sri Ramana Maharshi is the epitome of pure jnana, knowledge, and he is often quoted as the ultimate modern authority on Advaita Vedanta, the highest teachings in the Sanatana Dharma, that is, Hinduism. While this it true, he is also a supreme example of bhakti, devotion. Though he apparently appeared out of nowhere, without the normal apprenticeship under a living guru, he is an authentic link in the Tamil spiritual tradition extending back millennia, through the Saivite Nayanars and Vaishnavite Alwars, the saints who graced Tamil spirituality and who left an indelible mark on Tamil culture with their songs of devotion to the various deities in the temples dotted throughout Tamil Nadu. Sri Ramana said that bhakti is the mother of jnana. Without devotion, the wisdom of jnana is just empty words, subtle though they may be. If Sri Ramana had one attachment it was to Arunachala, the centre and reason for his existence. His untiring devotion was the hub around which his life revolved. His words of wisdom came from a profound understanding of the unity of body, heart and mind.
We can say that prayer is a seed planted in our hearts and minds either through a conscious intention on our part, or more often the result of a subtler influence, of which we are initially unaware, directly intervening. Once we open our heart some magical force intervenes. It may take its own time making its presence felt but indubitably it does.
We are more than the sum of our visible parts. We are more than an accumulation of memories, desires, fears, thoughts and feelings we call ‘me’. There is within us something that is transpersonal, perpetual and unchanging. Our commitment in life is to recognise it and listen intently to its promptings. It is rarely easy, for the static of our heedless mind interferes with distractions which ultimately are useless. We yearn to be centred in that which is most real within us: the still, ever-present, pregnant silence that defies definition but which we know intuitively as the most authentic aspect of our being.
Until we come to the realisation that there must be something better than the mediocre, at times despondent life we may lead, we won’t even consider change. One of the Four Noble Truths enunciated by the Buddha is that there is a path leading to the cessation of suffering. In Christianity it is called the Good News, that there is salvation. There is in us an instinctive grasp that the prayer’s potential does contain the possibility of redemption and consequent happiness. A desire for something better, wiser in our lives. Once we are convinced of this any right-thinking person asks how.
How does the power of prayer grow? How does it transform into an independent dynamic element that radiates our being with a sense of wholeness? Mechanical repetitiveness for a start… not unlike cranking up a jalopy until the pistons fire. With time and patience, it becomes easier and before we know it, natural. In other words, prayer is an accepted attitude that is feed with our energy and attention. It’s catalyst? Humility.
There is another aspect of prayer that involves others. It is not just a solitary activity but a public demonstration of its effectiveness to elicit positive transformation. I was a witness to this while lying in ICU unable to move aside from limited movements of arms and legs. As word got out of my critical condition, friends around the world began to pray for my recovery. I did not believe at first in the efficacy of these prayers. I thought they were well meaning and thoughtful but, in my pessimism, I merely paid lip service to their sympathy. What did they really know of the painful condition in which I barely survived? It continued this way for some time until one day after being transferred to the general ward when there was nothing further the doctors could do, the force of the combined prayers viscerally hit me. One moment I was idly musing about nothing in particular and the next, the accumulated energy of those prayers became palpable, it hit me like a tsunami. I was given a reason to live. It was like a gratuitous gift had fallen into my hands, totally unexpected but decisive nonetheless. I could not rationally explain it but I knew this upsurge akin to oxygen was the cumulative consequence of prayer. Through the combined force a shift had occurred in my sense of awareness. From then on, I took the prayers seriously and gratefully accepted the kindness inferred as people thought of me with a strong intention of goodwill. It wasn’t my personality they were thinking of, but the same core of aspiration common to all of us who were devotees of Sri Ramana Maharshi. We were all members of the same community and what affected one affected all.
One of the most important admonitions on the spiritual path is satsang, association with the wise. It means associating with those on the same plane of dedication. It means as much as possible to be careful with those whose lives are solely focused on the material, negative elements of existence and not be infected with their harmful lifeforce. There is nothing more depressing than being sucked into a circle of people whose priorities are centred on gross self-satisfaction. There is a higher drive in our lives and if we are true to this vison we should do all in our means to nourish it. Once we enter a circle of spiritually kindred souls, we become privy to the joint wealth generated in a common cause. It is similar to joining a bank where credit from all the joint accounts become available to us under the right conditions. We spontaneously help each other even at times when we are not really aware of it. How many times have we heard observations from a friend that had a deep impact on us without that other person really appreciating their weight?
This often happened in the company of Sri Ramana. It was recorded in the reminiscences of a number of people that advice he gave to one person, was taken by this third person in the crowd as being directed towards them, which changed their lives.
Life has a peculiar ability to affect us in ways we find baffling. Those combined prayers saved my life and gave me the heart to pick up the shattered pieces of my being and begin again with a renewed sense of dedication. The same can happen to all of us if we are willing to be open to change. Prayer is the key to open that door.
