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Devotee: “How long is the practice to continue?”

Sri Ramana 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 # 27  Isolation

Though we may be members of a loving family, flexible in our social

interactions and comfortable with our culture, we all are faced with the gap we

see and feel with other people. It is not just physical separateness but also inner

emotional and mental disjunction to a greater or lesser extent, as we widen our

consciousness in the natural ageing process, and as we more and more

understand our place in the world. It is both a blessing and a curse.

I read many years ago, a notable book The Outsider by Colin Wilson that

considered this question in depth and the means in which sensitive, gifted

individuals coped with the feeling of alienation and their own incapacity to

adjust as they say, to the current mores of society.

There is also the question of economics that influences us, the feeling that

one is just a cog in a machine can be truly dispiriting. For we cannot live on air

alone and for many who are obliged to earn a living, which eats into any time

that we may crave to explore our psychological state to make sense of it all,

reminds one of the myth of Sisyphus. Add to that the increasing use of

technology to distract us with one result being the rise of Attention Deficit

Syndrome. Is it possible to abide in a quiet, extended moment and not feel

bored?

Incidentally, nowadays we could note that any personal idiosyncrasy or

failure is elevated into a syndrome!

Who am I? Behind the layers of familiar thoughts and feelings are

unknown and potentially dangerous areas of our minds and memories that could

disrupt our carefully constructed image of who we are. This is the realm of

spirituality for the difference between it and psychology is one of aim.

Psychology helps us to adjust by seeing the root causes of unhappiness plaguing

our so-called ego while spiritualty offers us a means to escape permanently

from the mental and emotional identification by seeing a higher purpose in our

lives.

One night, when I was a child of perhaps eight years old, I watched a

meteor streak across the sky from the back veranda of our family house. With

my child’s mind I followed that vivid, silvery meteor alive in the dark arc of

night as it travelled beyond sight. It was at that moment I realised that there was

no end to the universe. That there was no limit. In Sanskrit this phenomenon is

recognized as ananta (a = not and anta = end).

I turned to face my parents who were also watching the spectacle and

again realised something that was to mark me for life: there was no way I could

communicate what I saw and understood. Stammering words may have

conveyed a superficial rendition of events but not the content, radioactive with

endless ramifications. The person who witnessed the events was not the same

person after it. A seed was sown that took hold of my consciousness and

struggle though I might to ignore it, like salt that is added to a food preparation

and pervaded each morsel of the dish, my life after that took a new route outside

the carefully constructed world my parents and society laid down for me to

follow. It wasn’t as if I chose this but that Life in its mysterious wisdom created

this different destiny. We are but an insignificant speck in the overwhelming

universe we inhabit. The experience burned a hole in my heart that could not be

restored to its previous pattern.

Many who enter the spiritual path have encountered a decisive instance

which radically shifted their perspective. It was not as if they wanted it but the

unforeseen shock tore them away from the normal trajectory of events expected

by and of them. It may happen gradually and leads to an inescapable crescendo,

and a single pivotal moment that seemingly came out of nowhere. When this

occurs, we may struggle to avoid it, deny it or pretend it did not happen. Or we

may happily accept it. The choice is ours.

There is a poem by Francis Thompson, The Hound of Heaven which

encapsulates this predicament when we are hesitant and evasive.

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;

I fled Him, down the arches of the years;

I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways

Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears

I hid from Him, and under running laughter.

Up vistaed hopes I sped;

And shot, precipitated,

Adown Titanic glooms of chasmèd fears,

From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.

But with unhurrying chase,

And unperturbèd pace,

Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,

They beat—and a Voice beat

More instant than the Feet—

‘All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.’…..

As a human being we want to share our joys and woes and if we cannot,

what then? The feeling of isolation attendant with this fact is a customary

human reaction. We try to make sense of our world and our relationship with it.

And failing to do so in an acceptable way engenders depression for we want to

be accepted and loved. If we are thrown off-balance by a seismic event that

brings into question our value system what then? We can hide but at what cost?

There is a popular adage that our fate is impressed on our forehead. If that

is so, what option do we have except to surrender to our fate? By surrendering

to the seemingly inevitable that a tsunami brings we discover we lose

acquaintances, friends, and even family members who do not understand why

we have become dissatisfied. We may try and explain and meet a wall of

incomprehension or outright hostility.

At this point is a ‘road to Damascus’ moment. Some pretend nothing has

happened and get back on their horse. Some grasp that something significant

occurred but are too afraid to change and as a result smother any disquiet as

much as possible though they secretly regret they did not take the road less

taken. And some, a few, sit there stunned while they realise the obligation to

change their values, and with it the price Life exerts to cut the strings of our

former lifestyle.

So, we are talking about two types of isolation. One is physical and

psychological and people resort to all types of therapies to resolve the struggle.

The other is spiritual, that is, the space where a person recognises isolation is an

inevitable consequence in the quest to know oneself. One may still be

physically present with others but a new filter has arisen whereby impressions

are more discreetly examined and more often than not discarded as

unacceptable. Why? Because the filaments of one’s inner being are now more

sensitive, making the grosser noise of the outside world intolerable. This is not

elitism but a necessary requirement for one to breathe naturally. In traditional

spirituality solitude is required when climbing the rungs of the ladder to heaven

in Christianity or liberation as in Buddhism and Hinduism. This isolation is not

a malaise but the beginning of the healing process.

In retrospect, from the ages of sixteen to twenty-two I battered my head

against impenetrable walls and underwent, I now see, a nervous breakdown.

The estrangement from all that I unconsciously took for granted grew stronger

and stronger until forced to accept my utter helplessness. It was only when I

stood before Arunachala for the first time, a waft of recognition dimly arose that

here was something too subtle to catch with my mind. Like the Fool in Tarot I

walked into the inscrutable zone from which there was no escape. And with it

eventually came the contentment of a peace that passes all understanding.