## Before You Sit in Meditation I believe that through meditation, which is the uninterrupted flow of the same thought of God, one can easily attain the Highest, for the mind eventually succumbs to a thought to which it is subjected uninterruptedly for a long time. If we continue to imbue the mind with a certain kind of consciousness—whatever may be the condition of the mind in the beginning, whether spiritual or not, whether filled with love for God or with restless desires—in course of time the desired change will take place. Sri Ramakrishna laid much stress on this fact. It took me a long time to comprehend one of his teachings on this subject, but when I understood it—and I hope I have understood it—I found great promise and assurance therein. He used to say that the mind is like a laundered cloth which takes the colour of the dye in which it is dipped. At first I thought he meant that the mind must be made absolutely pure before it is plunged into the thought of God to take His colour. There was nothing particularly encouraging in this, because the great problem of almost all spiritual aspirants is the attainment of purity of mind. Such purification is three-fourths of the battle; for when it is fully accomplished, spiritual realization comes spontaneously. But as I pondered over Sri Ramakrishna's simile, I began to understand it differently. In likening the mind to a laundered cloth, he spoke of the average mind, the mind which is so crowded with worldly and contradictory thoughts and feelings, and which is so averse to the thought of God. It was not the purified mind that he likened to a laundered cloth, but the mind in whatever condition it may be. I saw he meant that even this average mind, if dipped in the thought of God, would take on spiritual colour. Here is a psychological truth, wonderfully encouraging and helpful but often forgotten by spiritual aspirants. Once a man came to Sri Ramakrishna, saying, "I cannot control my mind—I don't know how." The Master, astonished, said, "Why do you not practise abhyasa-yoga?" Bringing the mind back again and again to the thought of God—that is what abhyasa-yoga means. This practice is particularly commended in the Bhagavad Gita. Does it matter very much if the mind wanders in the beginning, so long as you bring it back to Him? If we could remember this, half the battle would be already won, but unfortunately we often do not, and then we think of other things and completely forget the spiritual quest. Such being the case, I may profitably discuss certain points concerned with the means of self-control and meditation. What is the condition of mind suitable for meditation? It is known to all of you, as quietness. This is not a forced calmness, but a calmness resulting from the cessation of most of the strong desires. The things which disturb the mind, whether rising from within or coming from without, are connected with our secret, basic desires. We are always trying to realize certain ends. Though we strive desperately, we often fail, and failure exasperates the mind. Even when success is ours, there are strange results. Because the objects of our desires sometimes elude us while we are enjoying them, we feel disappointed and cheated; and when we are not thus frustrated, we become attached to the objects of enjoyment, in which case, since enjoyment cannot be continually intensified, satiety follows. All these reactions keep the mind continually restless, whether pleasantly or unpleasantly. Thus we find that the thoughts which do not allow our mind to dwell on the Presence of God are connected with the objects of our desires; and that only when we succeed in ridding ourselves of our predominant desires does the mind become comparatively quiet. We call this state of relative calmness the beginning of pratyahara (withdrawal of the mind), a condition in which the mind, though sometimes restless, is at other times quiet - restless when it comes in contact with the objects of desire, but fairly quiet when it does not do so. This is a very favourable state. If you find that your mind is naturally quiet when you are not in actual contact with disturbing things, that you like to be alone and that you have a feeling of serenity, recognize this condition as most desirable. In this condition you should try your best to practise meditation; you should never neglect it. I should like to add that the mind is a very changeable entity. Do not think that any desired condition will continue to exist simply because you have once reached it. Something may arise from within or come from without to distract you, and it may sometimes take five or even ten years for the mind to quiet down again, just as the sea takes days to regain calmness after a storm. I do not mean that we shall never be absolutely safe. Undoubtedly there is a mental condition in which one need have no fear at all, but that is a very high state. When a person has reached that one-pointed state he has burned his bridges behind him: he has reached a condition in which the things of this world can no longer attract him; his mind will never hark back to the world he has left behind. He is secure. Suppose we have reached the state in which the mind, though at times restless, is at other times quiet. What shall we do then, if we want to succeed in meditation? We must at the beginning make a firm resolution to be very regular in our practice. Whatever may be going on, we always manage to attend to our urgent bodily needs; we should be equally faithful to the practice of meditation. Meditation should be as much part of life as breathing. In my country, when a person is very busy he says, "I have no time to breathe." Actually, however, he does breathe. So it should be with meditation, though at first the desire to practise it may appear artificial. Make up your mind; say to yourself, "I must meditate." Sri Ramakrishna often praised the Mohammedans for their punctuality in prayer. There are not many Mohammedans in this country (USA, before 1963) but there are multitudes of them in India. Wherever a Mohammedan may be, when the time for prayer comes he stops everything, washes his hands and face, and then, spreading his rug even by a roadside if necessary, prays for at least fifteen minutes. Never does he fail to do this. There is no justification for anyone to say that he has no time to meditate. Extraordinary occasions may arise when one actually has not the time; but to say, "I am too busy to find time for it," or "I am so tired in the evening that it is impossible to meditate," is mere evasion. Nothing prevents the one who thus rationalizes from saving some of his energy for the evening. But he spends it all in the daytime doing other things—sometimes actually harmful things—and when evening comes, he gives himself false justification for failing to meditate. Ask him about it and he will say, "I need more sleep; I am tired. When I get up I must hurry to the office—where is the time?" We have a song about a man who, after spending all his life foolishly, finally realized his mistake and said, "I had time for everything else, O Lord, but I did not have time to think of Thee!" Notice this peculiarity of the human mind: there is a time and a place for everything else in our life, but we do not have even fifteen minutes daily for meditation! If you tell me you have not time or energy, do you think I shall believe you? I shall say you are deceiving yourself. Where there's a will there's a way. If you are determined, you can always find time to meditate. Here I should like to make a suggestion, for I know that discouragement comes. Sometimes in meditation the mind behaves wonderfully; it becomes calm and concentrated easily, and you are encouraged. But if at other times it behaves badly, refuses to quiet down, and is restless with all kinds of thoughts, you may be tempted to say, "No use for me to meditate. I try, but reach nowhere." I want to tell you this: unless you are born with wonderful qualities of mind and in a very advanced state of spiritual development, you are subject, like every other man who has tried to become spiritual to these fluctuations of consciousness. Do not let them discourage you, and do not think you are not fit to meditate when your mind is not sufficiently spiritual. Some have asked, "How can I approach God with a low state of mind?" If you were cold, would you say, "I am cold, so let me get warm before approaching the fire"? Or would you say, "I am cold and therefore the first thing to do is to go to the fire and warm myself"? If you feel yourself lacking in spirituality, that is the time of all times to think of God. Do not let your mind mislead you. The mind can trick you in many different ways: sometimes it will tempt directly, and again it will mislead in the very name of religion. This reluctance to meditate because you are "not spiritual enough" is a trick the mind plays on you. Whatever your mental condition, even if your mind be filled with low thoughts, try to think about God. Of course, you may not be able to think about Him or meditate on Him as you would wish, but what does it matter? <mark>Keep trying. A vicious horse kicks, rears and attempts to throw the rider, but if the rider manages to stay firmly in the saddle, the horse quietens down, knowing it has found its master. The mind behaves in the same way. It will try to dislodge you, but upon finding that you cannot be shaken off, it will become your slave. That is the secret of the mind, so do not bother about its condition. Make the determination to ride it, and this determination, which implies concentration, is itself a victory.</mark> Next, you must have a fixed time for meditation. In my opinion a person should meditate not less than twice a day. If you cannot meditate twice, meditate at least once, either in the morning or in the evening. In India we think there are four auspicious hours for meditation: early morning—at least an hour before sunrise, while it is still dark—is a very good time. Of this, more later. The second auspicious hour is noon. I do not know whether any special advantage can be derived from it in the city, but undoubtedly in villages, especially in a tropical country, all is hushed at this time and nature seems to stand still. It is so hot that even birds are silent and hide themselves among the leaves of the trees. People are quiet—often they rest at that time—and there is a definite lull; at least I used to feel it in my country, where many use the noon hour for meditation and worship. The third auspicious time for meditation is early evening. In this country it is unfortunately difficult to meditate then, because it is usually the dinner hour. Yet evening is certainly one of the best times in which to meditate. If you can, you may practise meditation shortly before dinner, but it is not advisable to meditate immediately thereafter, as digestion may be impaired and your health affected. The fourth hour is midnight. In this part of the world it is not very quiet even at twelve o'clock; yet I think one does feel a certain stillness. Where it is fairly quiet, midnight is wonderfully suitable. As a matter of fact, many believe that midnight is the best of all hours for meditation. Morning meditation has a certain advantage over evening meditation, in that the mind is quiet when you waken from the night's rest. All the impressions of the preceding day are erased, as if someone had come after school and wiped the blackboard clean. Then too, nature is quiet in the early morning and the city is not yet fully awake and stirring. Consequently, you find it easier to quiet the mind. There is another advantage: by meditating before the day has begun you give a spiritual impetus and direction to your mind. Though it may tend to lose some of the spiritual strength and enthusiasm as the day progresses, these will nevertheless remain for many hours and sustain you through most of the day. I should mention here that some may find meditation more successful in the evening than in the morning. There are those who 'wake up' gradually as the day advances. In the morning they are only half-awake, but towards evening wide awake with clear, sharp minds behaving wonderfully. Such persons undoubtedly will find evening or night meditation more successful. If you cannot avail yourself of any of these hours which are especially suitable for meditation, you should choose the one most convenient to you and make every effort to stick to it. The observation of regular hours of meditation is very important, because the mind functions according to habit. If it is made to think and feel in a certain way at a given time for many days consecutively, it will spontaneously think and feel in the same way whenever that time arrives. If we meditate on God at a specified hour, whenever that hour approaches, our mind, without any effort on our part, will be filled with the consciousness of God. This is no mean advantage to derive from regularity of practice. Just as you should have regular hours of meditation, so should you have a fixed place in which to meditate. That is one great advantage of temples and churches. Since such places are used for thinking of God, the very air in them becomes charged with His presence and the feeling of purity. You are uplifted by merely going there. An atmosphere similar to that of a temple or church can be created even in a corner of your own room, for wherever an intense thought is held uninterruptedly, the place becomes charged with the quality of it, probably because the material atmosphere and surroundings are connected with the body, which vibrates in accordance with the thoughts of the mind. If our thoughts are pure, our bodies likewise attain to a purity which may be called a spiritual vibration; and naturally, with such a change in the body, the outside atmosphere is also changed. Thus the fixed place where you meditate will become charged with energy; it will be so permeated with a spiritual quality that your mind will be filled with the thought of meditation as soon as you come to that place. It will be quieted as if by a magic touch, and you will be conscious of a palpable presence. What a great advantage! You can indeed perform this seeming miracle through the one practice of keeping apart a certain place consecrated to thoughts of God. When we measure the strength of the subtle enemies which hide in our minds—the passions, impulses, greeds and desires—these devices that I have prescribed seem to provide a very frail protection. I admit this. When I say 'hide', I mean that even the best of us have not completely escaped their influence. It is said that one is not wholly free of them until one has actually touched the feet of God. Just as in winter the garden is cleared of weeds and old growth but with the first rain of spring the tiny seeds left lying in the earth sprout to cover it with green, even so, many subtle thoughts, impressions and desires lie hidden in our minds, waiting to spring up at the first opportunity. Therefore we must be very careful. We know that all these wrong impulses are in our minds and that they would easily cover our whole consciousness if we did not restrain them. Our problem is to keep a great part of our mind—and by degrees a greater and yet greater part of it—free from the domination of wrong impulses and desires, so that with the mind thus freed we can think about God. In the meantime, what should we do to conquer our desires and adverse impulses? Sometimes they succumb to direct attack, but a flank attack is usually better. Fighting a state of mind directly in order to conquer it can do more harm than good, for thereby the mind often becomes more and more entangled. The wiser course is not to allow oneself to dwell on the condition of mind to be eradicated. Remember this psychological fact: the more you dwell on a mental condition, the more it is strengthened. There is a story of a monk who used to sit under a roadside tree to pray and meditate. A woman of ill repute often passed by, and he would say to her, "You should give up your evil ways and try to be good. If you do not, terrible things will happen to you after death." Every time the monk saw the woman, he admonished her similarly. In course of time they both died, and the messengers of death came to claim their spirits. It is said that a bright messenger brings a golden chariot to carry a good person to heaven, whereas a dark messenger comes when an evil person dies. It happened that the dark messenger came for the monk and the celestial messenger for the woman. The monk was astonished. "I think there has been a mistake," he said. "No," answered the messenger, "there has been no mistake. All is quite right." "How can that be?" asked the monk. The messenger replied gravely, "Though seeming to meditate, you were all the while thinking of the woman and her evil deeds. Did not your mind dwell continually on evil? But the woman asked God for help, saying, 'Lord, I am weak. Save me!' Did not her mind dwell on God more than yours?' The monk could make no answer. This may be an extreme illustration, but it contains a deep psychological truth. It points to a fundamental fact concerning mental action, a fact that you can utilize in your own struggle for self-conquest. When the mind is allowed to dwell on some undesirable quality, it certainly creates a new impression that is many times stronger than the original one. Further recognition of this quality will only make it stronger and stronger until it may even become a complex. I am not saying that you should not restrain your mind, that you should let it be uncontrolled, or as it is called, 'natural'. Nor do I mean that you should ignore your weaknesses. But truly it is often safer not to grapple with these directly. The better strategy is to train the mind to dwell on a new level. First divert it from the thought of your weakness to some innocent and pleasing subject; then lift it by degrees to a higher consciousness. This method of self-constraint does not repress the mind, but rather lifts it from dangerous associations by substituting desirable for undesirable thoughts. If at present you have some serious fault that seems almost impossible to eradicate, you must have lent it strength and support by thinking of it and indulging in it. Take away that support, and the fault will become weak and will finally die through lack of nourishment. I do not say that this is easy to do, but with practise you can form the habit, and it is a sure way of making spiritual progress. After starving your undesirable thoughts for some time, you will probably find that, while many of them have died, some have still remained. Do not be too concerned. Let them remain, so long as they do not gain strength. Keep them cornered, and eventually they also will die. Bad company is one of the most potent causes of mental conflict and disturbance. It would be very well to mix with all kinds of people if we could remain unaffected by their company, but this rarely happens. I do not know of anyone who can do it. Right contacts and association are therefore very important in spiritual life. If you share the company of impure persons and are in frequent contact with wrong things, you will be unable to keep under control the thoughts you are trying to check; they will grow and will finally overcome your mind completely. A certain amount of asceticism is absolutely necessary for spiritual progress. Some of you, not eager to meditate, may say, "We shall leave that for our next life," or "We shall take it up a few years hence." Many think that youth is the time to enjoy life, that it is well enough to practise religion after beginning to grow old. In other words, when the world has turned sour, they will go to church wearing a long face and think they have religion. That is not and cannot be religion. What do we bring to God in such a case? A worn-out body and a worn-out mind, scarred through and through. Do you think He is pleased with these? We do not take worm-eaten fruits or wilted flowers to his Altar, but perfect offerings. In the same way, we should give Him the best of ourselves. The offering of a fresh and pure mind pleases Him most. Those who think religion is exclusively for the old make a profound mistake. The young especially should try to be spiritual, for if religious life begins early and the practices I have mentioned are undertaken while the mind is still fresh and pure, then by keeping a close watch over the mind one can keep it unspoiled. Under no circumstances should we allow the mind to become affected by the world. Youth is the propitious time for setting to work. Sri Ramakrishna once said to a young college student: "When a man makes a brick, he puts his trade mark on it while it is still soft. Then, when the brick is dried in the sun and baked in the kiln, the mark becomes permanent. Even so, if you can put the imprint of God on your mind while it is soft, that imprint can never be effaced, but will remain forever. Practise asceticism—the more the better; and this does not mean making a wry face as if you have bitten a sour apple. Practising asceticism should give a pleasure similar to that of riding a spirited horse. Gain the strength to control the forces of your body and mind so that you are not dominated by them. This asceticism is necessary, for without it meditation is impossible. All the things I have discussed so far are important preliminaries; they should be practised each day of our lives and not merely at the beginning of our spiritual quest. He who practises them rightly can at will withdraw his mind completely, because he has gained tremendous control over it. But until you have been fully established in these practices, many of you may find that during meditation the mind takes some time to reach a state of quietude. This fact should be given careful consideration. If you rush about doing and thinking many things immediately before meditation, what success can you expect? For some time prior to meditation you should try to be quiet and to feel that you are unrelated to the world, that you have nothing to do with it. As husband, wife, mother, father, child and so on, you have many duties, and there are a thousand things demanding your attention. When approaching God, do you know what you should do? You should go to Him as though the world had never existed for you, as if you had no husband, wife, parents, friends, country—nothing at all. This would be the right feeling in the hour of meditation. Approach meditation with the feeling of eternity. Who succeeds best in meditation? He who at the time of meditation can feel absolutely unrelated. Do you understand what that means? Try to imagine what eternity is. It is beyond time and consequently beyond all phenomena; it is a condition—if we may call it so—in which none of these relative things exist. When seeking to think of the eternal Lord, you are making an effort for the time being to go beyond all relationships. You must say, "I have no body, no mind. Time and space have disappeared. The whole universe has vanished. God alone is." Then only will the mind have that subtle perception which will enable it to feel God's gracious presence. Thus, before you enter the place of meditation, you must leave everything relative outside. In our monasteries the monks who are very strict do not allow visitors to speak of their wives, husbands or children, or about worldly things, however important. It is not that they discountenance a person's doing his duty, but that they know that the mind in order to be spiritual must partake of the character of the eternal. There must indeed be some time during the day when you feel absolutely unrelated—because to be so is your true nature. Though you seem to be related to people, you know these relationships are impermanent. Your true nature is unrelated, and it is in the unrelated condition that you must enter into meditation. By fulfilling the conditions which I have specified, real and appreciable spiritual progress can be made. But here I must tell you that all spiritual practices, including meditation, depend upon one thing: a great yearning for Truth. Have you that yearning? You may say, "I do not feel it. What then, is the use of meditation?" But is it impossible to create that feeling? The mind's appetite for God can be stimulated deliberately. When by whatever means the mind is made to yearn for Him, the feeling is no less real than if it had come spontaneously. If you wait for time to bring a natural longing, it may never come. Since this longing is essential, create it. At first your mind will fluctuate. But do not be discouraged by these unstable moods of the mind, and above all do not let yourself be defeated. Suppose that you are a boy and that another boy in the neighbourhood always tries to browbeat you. He has no right to do it, and you know him to be actually a coward. What is the proper course to take? Will you submit to the bully, thinking that you are naturally weak and that to fight him is useless? No, you will deliberately call up the feeling of manliness within you. You will say to yourself, "I refuse to be bullied by him." The next time you confront him, that feeling may partially decline, but you will nevertheless manage to look him in the eye, and you will eventually be brave enough to challenge him. You will have become manly, and you will say, "This is my true nature; I am really strong!" We are acting similarly at every moment. In acquiring a skill or gaining knowledge in school or college, we succeed by repeated effort. At first, what we are trying to acquire is not natural to us, but once mastered, it appears an essential part of ourselves. This is even more true in spiritual life, and we must exert ourselves accordingly. At first everything seems difficult, and you say, "What actually is my nature? Maybe I am just not religious. Perhaps I am not destined to be spiritual." There were times when I too thought the same. I would consider a certain obstruction too great for me and its removal an impossibility. Then I would remind myself that I was not really the body and mind, but the spirit; that the realization of my spiritual self was my destiny. I knew that if I did not conquer the obstruction then, I was just postponing the task for the future. Why not act at once and finish it? I can truly say, my good fortune lay in holding to this thought. True, I was sometimes tempted to give up the struggle, but then I would think, "I cannot escape my spiritual destiny. Let me therefore realize it now!" Great longing and faith are very important in the practice of meditation, for without intense desire for God and faith in Him meditation proves half-hearted and sterile. Where there is no interest in what you are doing, it becomes a mere formality, and effort is soon abandoned. If you believe in a personal God, pray to Him. By 'personal God' I do not mean God with a body, but God with self-consciousness, who is our Father, Mother, Friend and Lord, who is the all-pervading Creator of the universe. He listens when we pray to Him; we can approach Him in full confidence, just as children approach their parents. Believing in a personal God and loving Him will make it very easy for you to meditate. Dwell on the thought of Him more and more. Do things for Him. Success in spiritual life lies in concentrating every thought, every feeling, every ounce of energy on God. How will you do it? When you speak, speak of God. When you walk, go to His temple. When you work with your hands, do something in His service. Every function of body and mind must somehow be directed towards Him. If you have to go to an office instead of a temple, make your office the temple of God! If your work is honest it can be done. If it is dishonest, change that work. If changing means even facing starvation, then face it! Courage - that is always necessary. Do not forget this: he who created the world is still behind it and will never let us starve. If we really want the Truth and hence are willing to discard whatever is wrong and untrue, we shall never lose by following the Truth. It is not that things will happen just as we wish, but they will happen with a minimum of suffering and a maximum of benefit. If your occupation is honest, you can certainly conceive it as a work for God. Whether you are at a desk or doing housework, whatever the nature of your work, meditate on God. Offer to Him what you have done through the day, though it was apparently done for your employer. Have you typed twenty letters and taken them to him? Let him sign them, but afterwards close your eyes and offer all to the Lord. You will thus give a new turn to your thoughts. Yes, it is a different way of doing things. It may appear a little unusual at first, but undertake it anyhow. Little by little a deeper meaning will be revealed, and you will find that this practice is not what you originally thought it to be; it will become tremendously effective. In this way, whenever we do anything for others or for ourselves, we may think we are doing it for the Lord. Everything in life can then be converted into spiritual activity. There may be some who are able, consciously and deliberately, to do things directly for God. How fortunate they are! That is why people perform elaborate worship. That is why they grow flowers and offer them on the altar, why they burn incense and light candles. Perhaps you do not like such practices? But how else would you spend the hours of the day? Don't you see that time and energy are wasted by serving the little self? Would it not be better to offer whatever you do to Him? Out of this feeling has come ritualism. Out of this feeling have been built temples, all over the world, where people bring offerings for worship. However, I am not insisting that all should practise ritualism. Each must worship according to his spiritual temperament. But in some manner you will have to discover how to bring your own thoughts, emotions and actions to the service of the Lord. The more you do it, the closer you will be to Him. Then, when you sit in meditation, everything else will be forgotten, and God alone will fill your heart. Perhaps you are accustomed to convince yourself of the reality of spiritual truths by means of reasoning. But until you have experienced these truths yourself, let me say that the greatest blessing would be for you to meet one who has realized them in person. You know, the proof of spiritual truths does not lie in reason, argument or any kind of outward demonstration. Their proof lies in the sincere conviction carried by the words of a man who has realized what he expresses. Though others may disagree, I think that this is the one objective proof on which one can rely. If such an illumined person were to say to me, "My son, you are not really this body and mind; spirit is your true nature; the immortal and eternal being is the real you. Passing things do not belong to you. Try to penetrate the depths; try to realize your true self," I should be forced to accept and to act upon his words. As he spoke, something in his voice would sink deep into my heart; I should not be able to resist it. How I wish you could all find someone from whose lips such words would fall! You would not then be able to doubt or ignore them, and conviction of your true nature and glorious goal would grow within you. For a time, failure might cause you to despair, but eventually you would say, "All right, let me try again." And you would win. I have now told you what should be done preparatory to meditation. Your mind can be drawn ever closer to God by undertaking all the various measures I have enumerated. In conclusion, let me stress a few points: Do whatever work is required of you, but direct it to the Lord; then your mind will not be disturbed. Be unrelated. identify yourself with eternity; then meditation will be very easy. Do not let your mind wander, or worldly thoughts will enter and cloud it - this should never be permitted. Before you sit in meditation, think of the things I have suggested. When nothing extraneous enters your mind, it will grow calm. Then, in the temple of your heart, you will begin to see the shining face of the Lord. Meditating upon it, you will find it more and more beautiful, and plunged in its infinite beauty, you will forget all else. You will at last be wholly absorbed in Him. (Reprinted from Vedanta for East and West, March-April 1963)