Friday, October 1, 2010

SOME THOUGHTS ON THE GURU

The Quest

Before meeting my root guru, Baba Muktananda, I had read about gurus in several traditions.  In fact the experience which most influenced me in seeking a guru was reading Ouspensky’s In Search of the Miraculous, a book about his teacher, Georges Gurdjieff.  I was deeply captivated by the stories of Gurdjjieff’s spiritual power, his ideas and the influence he had on his disciples. 

One day as I sat in my living room in Chicago reading about him, I passed into a reverie.  I looked up from the page and watched the sunlight fall on a red table sitting on a green carpet and voiced an aspiration.  I prayed to find a teacher like Gurdjieff, a being with higher consciousness who could lead me to that state.  There was something deeply meaningful about that moment, in which I seemed to be connected to a power which was listening to and was both willing and able to answer my prayer.  It was just a month later that my journey began when I met Baba Ram Dass and heard about his quest in India and his meeting his guru.

Research

Before embarking on my own trip to India I began to read extensively, including books by and about Ramana Maharshi and Sri Ramakrishna.  Back in college, I had studied the Old and New Testaments and read about Christian saints and contemplatives.  I had also read about Jewish mystics.  The spiritual path and higher consciousness had been interests of mine since childhood.  Later, when I met Baba in Delhi I read everything written at the time about his path, notably a booklet by Amma entitled “Dhyan Yoga and Kundalini Yoga.”  I was also captivated by Baba’s biography of his guru, Bhagawan Nityananda. 

As this adventure unfolded, my interest in higher consciousness and enlightenment quickened.  By the time I got to Ganeshpuri, I was deeply in the grip of a desire to know all there was to know about the spiritual path.  In the early days, I haunted the small library, reading everything in it, including the many volumes of Aurobindo’s work and the huge series on Swami Ramananda.  Over the years, I devoured all the Carlos Castenada books with the teachings and stories of his guru Don Juan and of the shamanic tradition.  During my time with Baba I read about Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, a teacher with the same kind of charisma as Gurdjieff and Baba.  Over the years, I have explored Sufism, Hassidism, Taoism and some Zen and Theravadan Buddhism.  I can’t say I have read deeply, but at least I have read extensively. 

All these traditions deal with the development of the higher faculties of the mind – or as I thought of it then, with the relationship of the individual to God, however God may be defined.  I use the word God very broadly, to refer to the higher faculties of the mind, or what may be called the spirit, the inner or higher self, the essence of our being, our higher nature, the soul, the One, Reality, Truth.  The Vedas call it “That.”  Actually, I feel that “This” is somehow better since it feels more connected and intimate, closer and less other. 

My aim has always been to try to get behind the language to the experiential reality.  My background as an anthropologist and astrologer - of the psychological variety - provided me with different languages with which to understand human experience. These add to the mix provided by the languages of various spiritual traditions.   Not only do I look for what fits, just as Baba found that Kashmir Shaivism fit his own experience, but I also look for clues and hints – breadcrumbs left by those who have traveled the path successfully. 

The Guru

One of the constants in all traditions is the need for a guru.  We begin our lives as babies, with parents or parent substitutes.  It seems that we are designed to be shown how to be human by another human.  I think this is the basis of the guru/disciple relationship.  Just as the relationship with our parents molds our humanity, the relationship with the guru molds the development of our spirituality.  We are shown how to be enlightened by someone who is enlightened, or at least is further along on the path.  At the beginning there may be a sudden awakening or initiation akin to a birth, but the entire process is  gradual and incremental.

Of course, the awakening and guidance can be transmitted by gurus without human form, as in the case of Ramana Maharshi, Anandamayi Ma and others who were born with an attunement to the awakened state.  The form of one’s guru depends on the degree of attunement, or spiritual maturity which is present, and also, I think, on the purpose for which the being has incarnated. 

There is abundant material, some of which I studied while with the Buddhists, on the different kinds of gurus.  This is very similar to the teachings on the kinds of gurus which is delineated in the Hindu traditions.  For example, there is the family guru, who initiates one into the rituals and devotions of the family tradition.  These often are priests and they serve a kind of priestly function, though they are regarded as gurus.  Then there is the guru who teaches about spiritual life.  There are many other levels of gurus and they can be more or less enlightened, but they are all called gurus. 

Darshan

At the highest level, there are gurus who hold and can convey the highest realization, whatever that may be.  I feel comfortable with calling it an abiding in the fullness of the human potential.  I also like calling it abiding in the natural state - sahaj samadhi, or rigpa, as the Tibetans call it.  A being at this level can confer transmission just by presence or being.  This correlates with the last two of the four means of giving shaktipat, which are traditionally listed as word, touch, sight and thought.  Gurus at this level may not teach, guide or interact in any outer way with the student, but may just give darshan.  This term refers to the silent conferring of blessing while sitting in the presence of the master.

Bhagawan Nityananda comes to mind, as do so many others, such as Ananda Mayi Ma.  When I met her in 1970 just after arriving in India, the group of us who stopped at her ashram on our way to the Himalayas to look for Baba Ram Dass’ guru just sat in her presence.  She sat quietly in a chair, wrapped in a white shawl, while Bhagawan Das fell at her feet doing full pranams or prostrations and weeping while shouting “Ma, Ma, Ma!”  I didn’t know what was going on.  She wasn’t doing or saying anything, yet he was profoundly affected.  This is darshan.  At the time I thought that I didn’t get it, but she has stayed with me ever since.

Initiation

These beings may also, upon occasion, perform the role of guru to meet the needs and expectations of the student.  I have always felt that the form of Baba’s initiation by Bhagawan (with the padukas, bhajias, shawl, etc.) was prompted by who Baba was and would be, rather than by any aspect of Bhagawan’s personality or habits. After all, we haven’t heard other stories of such initiations by him.   Such beings are beyond systems and structures of all kinds though they may operate within them.

There are many stories of seekers meeting a great being and having an experience in his presence and then going away to do sadhana without further contact with the initiating guru.  Then there are more codified ways in which the guru/disciple relationship is played out and these result in the cultural traditions that we are all familiar with.  For example, I first saw people touching Baba’s feet when I met him in Delhi in 1971 and I assumed that it was something one did with one’s guru, only to discover later that it is done in all kinds of other contexts in India. 

Ritual

I recalled that while I was in the Peace Corps in Ethiopia, the father of one of the young boys that my roommate and I had hired as servants came to visit from his remote village where he was a poor and illiterate peasant.  His son was the first in the family ever to go to school and until we hired him, he was living under one of the little coffee houses in the village and subsisting on bread which his father sent by bus once a week.

His father was grateful for our support of his son and when he met me, he bent to touch my feel, which horrified me.  Once later on, when I had walked barefooted in the mud during the monsoon, this son very naturally took a pan of water and bent to wash my feet.  Since he had never before touched me, this was also a bit of a shock but I realized that it came from his cultural tradition and was just a natural response for him.

It was difficult for us Westerners to separate the essential aspects of the guru/disciple relationship from the more cultural and less essential features that we saw in Baba’s Indian ashram.  Of course, it didn’t make any difference to Baba or to the blessings conferred.  It was just an issue for some who may have had resistance to a particular outer form – such as bowing or chanting or following him around - which therefore became an obstacle in their relationship with the guru instead of being a natural part of life around the guru. 

Resistance

Personally I was not particularly bothered by the cultural forms of relating to Baba, but was more resistant to what I thought of as indoctrination.  When I first arrived at Baba’s ashram in Ganeshpuri, the morning chant was the Bhagavad Gita, which I found very moving and inspiring.  Soon after, it was changed to the Guru Gita, which I instinctively felt was less sublime.  It appeared to be a mixture of various things, some of which seemed to be hymns of praise for the guru, and some of which seemed to be part of a manual of how a disciple should regard the guru and conduct himself with the guru.  It was this aspect which aroused resistance on my part. 

Much of this material was obviously cultural or ritualistic, such as the kinds of things one should offer to the guru or the kinds of seats one should use for meditation.  I couldn’t help but view this kind of material from an anthropological perspective.  So much of the lore seemed like the quaint and exotic customs I had studied in my ethnographical courses in graduate school.

This kind of material did not rise to the level of the description of the Self in the Bhagavad Gita.  I remember thrilling to the verses in the second chapter such as, “It is not born, it does not die; having been, it will never not be; unborn, enduring, constant and primordial, it is not killed when the body is killed” and “Weapons do not cut it, fire does not burn it, waters do not wet it, wind does not wither it.  It cannot be cut or burned; it cannot be wet or withered; it is enduring, all-pervasive, fixed, immovable, and timeless.  It is called unmanifest, inconceivable, and immutable; since you know that to be so, you should not grieve!”

This was the level I was interested in.  Being with Baba had awakened the spiritual quest which had always been latent in my being and I was thirsty for knowledge of the goal of life, the mysterious Self.   I felt Baba’s power and love and believed that he could lead me to the goal.  There was a lot about the life which did not suit me personally, but I believed that none of this mattered if the larger issue was being addressed. 

Questions

In addition to some of the verses in the Guru Gita, there were also many teachings that I intuitively felt were not on the level to which I aspired.  For example, there was the question of lineage.  I fully accepted that Bhagawan Nityananda was Baba’s guru and that he was a great siddha.  I had no need for more of a lineage than that.  When Baba declared that Ishwara Iyer was Bhagawan’s guru, it felt odd.  How could an ordinary man, as Ishwara Iyer was described, be the guru of the extraordinary child he adopted and named Ram.  It appeared that Iyer was more of a devotee of the young Ram and was not really his guru, other than in the sense of being his protector and father figure. 

Then there was the array of beings which Baba called his lineage, but which were in no way that was evident to me a lineage of any kind.  They were not really related to each other nor did they appear to come from any kind of established lineage.  These were beings such as Hari Giri Baba, Zipruanna, Rang Avadhoot, etc. Baba loved and revered them, which was wonderful, since they were obviously extraordinary beings, but to me they didn’t constitute a lineage, as the word is usually defined. 

This is just one example of the kinds of things we were taught but which didn’t have the ring of a higher truth to them for me.  I decided early on to just ignore the things which made no sense to me and to embrace what felt to me to be the essence.  I must say that many of the outer aspects of the teaching on the guru fell into the former category.  I took to heart the teaching that the real guru is a principle.  It was really the fifth function of Lord Shiva, the function of grace, and the power which united an embodied being to its source and its essence.  I regarded the function of the guru as the link which would connect me to “the unmanifest, immutable and inconceivable,” described by Lord Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita.

Renunciation or Tantra

It was easy to see Bhagawan Nityananda as a great siddha.  He had no persona to speak of.  He had wandered naked for many years until devotees who began to gather around him pleaded with him to wear a loincloth.  He was said to eat rice and drink coffee, to sleep anywhere and to show no signs of attachment whatsoever.  Miracles abounded in his presence.  From everything I read about him, it was clear to me that he was immersed in a reality which was not the one I inhabited.

I also saw that it was a reality quite different from Baba’s.  Baba appeared to be interested in the world – in wealth, fame, beauty, food and power – in fact in all aspects of manifestation.  I told myself that this was merely a Taurean manifestation.  As a double Taurus, he manifested as such.  I told myself that there is no inherent superiority of austerity and renunciation over involvement with the physical world. 

It was this tantric approach to life which made Baba’s world so difficult to understand and so problematic.  His manifestation aroused powerful feelings in everyone.  Some were positive and some were negative, but in both cases they served as a mirror and as the occasion for purification of karma.  This spiritual process is called spiritual evolution in Devatma Shakti, a text Baba recommended.  It is the process by which the awakened shakti or kundalini moves in the subtle body uprooting all the dross of samsara which keep the soul bound, enabling it to be transformed and ultimately enlightened. 

I bought this story, but did not really buy the story of total surrender to the outer guru.  I made a distinction between the outer guru and the inner process.  The problem with this is that there was a split between the inner and outer worlds.  Later I realized that this split was a reflection of the inner split between my projected self, my persona, and my authentic self which was free of all the conceptual baggage of lifetimes.

For me, it was impossible to become free in Baba’s world because of the demand which I felt to conform to all the outer manifestations of his being.  I know that most of the Indians did not feel this way and I suspect that some of the Westerners were able to negotiate more successfully than I was. But for me, separation was necessary. I think that Gurumayi is providing her disciples with a great opportunity for growth with her retirement from the public eye.  I know some do not feel this way, and struggle with a kind of enforced renunciation of the physical form.  However it comes about, I feel that spiritual maturity requires a kind of individuation.

Rules and Regulations

There were many examples of the outer manifestations of Baba’s world with which I was not in harmony.  I wondered about his declaration that his successor had to be a lifelong celibate and thought that perhaps he was either projecting something of his concepts and desires or that he was creating a document which would support the succession he had chosen.  In any case, it was a unique requirement.  I have never heard of or read of such a requirement for guruhood. It is a monastic requirement, but nowhere have I ever heard of monasticism being a requirement of guruhood. 

In the Tibetan tradition, many and possibly most gurus are not celibate, for it is believed that the higher spiritual faculties are enhanced by the disciplined use of sexual energy.  I think that this is more a characteristic of the Nyingma lineage in which I was trained, for I am aware that both the Karmapas and the Dalai Lamas (Kagyu and Gelugpa) are monastic.  I don’t claim any expertise on the subject, but mention it to show how my thinking has been influenced.

Great spiritual teachers act on many different levels.  They impart the highest wisdom to those who are open to it and they may also provide a lifestyle which is conducive to spiritual growth.  As part of this lifestyle, there may be many rules and regulations, as well as mere preferences which become embodied as part of the “teachings.”  One small example:  I remember that Baba was not in favor of mushrooms and so it became part of the culture not to eat mushrooms.  In some traditions mushrooms are considered to be powerful medicines with many healing qualities, so this is clearly not any kind of absolute teaching. 

The Church

If the history of Christianity is studied, it can be seen that the beliefs handed down through the ages have undergone enormous changes.  The church once believed in and taught the doctrine of reincarnation, for example.  It is the nature of churches to be subject to politics, social movements, and the fashions of the moment - to say nothing of being subject to the whims, proclivities and opinions of those in power. 

A useful question to ask oneself is how much of a church one wants and needs.  As an institution, it has its benefits.  Being a member of a church confers a sense of belonging, shared customs and rituals, protection and warmth, a feeling of control in the face of the unknown and access to a group high, which is often not accessible alone.  These are strong human needs and are served by membership in all kinds of groups which have shared beliefs. 

Guru’s Grace

Although I have enjoyed and been served by all of these, it is not ultimately what I wanted from a spiritual path.  I wanted freedom, which is the opposite, in many ways, of all those benefits which are more of a comfort in the face of the Unmanifest.  I wanted to plunge into the Unknown and then come out and relate to the world without neediness and attachment, without fear and without beliefs.  This is the path that I resonated with.  When I look at Baba, I see a being without neediness, attachment, fear and beliefs. He had apparent attachment and apparent beliefs, but I also saw – though not all the time – his freedom from everything, and most spectacularly, his freedom from fear.

So, the gift I received from Baba was the years I spent basking in the radiance of his freedom and his love.  It is a gift that keeps on giving, as they say.  I continue to learn from that radiance as it unfolds inside of me.  I always honor and revere that radiance, that shakti, which is the guru for me.