 
The Sharpest Knife: Lakshmana and His Words of Wisdom

Krishna's Mercy

Published by Krishna's Mercy at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Krishna's Mercy

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Table of Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1 - Ambrosia

Chapter 2 - Karma-mukta

Chapter 3 - The Rock

Chapter 4 - Weathering The Storm

Chapter 5 - Nothing Lasts Forever

Chapter 6 - Tolerance

Chapter 7 - As Forgiving As The Earth

Chapter 8 - Sticks and Stones

Chapter 9 - Until It Sleeps

Chapter 10 - King of the Castle

Chapter 11 - One Who Laments

Chapter 12 - Great Seers

Chapter 13 - The Object of Morality

Chapter 14 - Playing To Win

Chapter 15 - The Cause of All Causes

Chapter 16 - Carpe Diem

Chapter 17 - Cause and Effect

Chapter 18 - Making Someday Come Soon

Chapter 19 - Up Up Up

Chapter 20 - A Living Encyclopedia

Chapter 21 - Do It Again

Chapter 22 - Checkmate

Chapter 23 - The Sleeping Giant

Chapter 24 - As Good As Gold

Chapter 25 - The Sharpest Knife

Chapter 26 - The Emblem of Loyalty

Chapter 27 - Waking Up

Chapter 28 - Spending Capital

Chapter 29 - Destroying Our Foes

Chapter 30 - Encouragement

Chapter 31 - You Gotta Believe

Chapter 32 - The Spiritual Doctor

Chapter 33 - The Highest Gain

Chapter 34 - What's the Use

Chapter 35 - What I'm Looking For

# Introduction

Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, Chapter 36:

tam tathā śoka santaptam vilapantam anāthavat ।

mohena mahatā āviṣṭam paridyūnam acetanam ॥

tataḥ saumitriḥ āśvāsya muhūrtāt iva lakṣmaṇaḥ ।

rāmam saṃbodhayāmāsa caraṇau ca abhipīḍayan

"Rāma bewailing thus, like one who had no protector, being stricken with grief and overwhelmed by great illusion appeared impoverished and lifeless. Thereafter, Lakṣmaṇa, the son of Sumitra, lovingly pressing His lotus feet, instantly reassured Him thus:" (66.1-2)

mahatā tapasā rāma mahatā ca api karmaṇā ।

rājñā daśarathena asi labdho amṛtam iva amaraiḥ

"Like the demigods obtaining ambrosia, King Daśaratha, after performing great austerities and great deeds, obtained You as a son." (66.3)

tava caiva guṇaiḥ baddhaḥ tvat viyogāt mahipatiḥ ।

rājā devatvam āpanno bharatasya yathā śrutam

"Being attached to Your qualities, the king, as we have heard from Bharata, attained the divine nature due to separation from You." (66.4)

yadi duḥkham idam prāptam kākutstha na sahiṣyase ।

prākṛtaḥ ca alpa sattvaḥ ca itaraḥ kaḥ sahiṣyati

"O Kakutstha, if You are unable to tolerate this distress, then how will the common person or the meager be able to tolerate it?" (66.5)

āśvasihi naraśreṣṭha prāṇinaḥ kasya na āpada ।

saṃspṛśanti agnivat rājan kśaṇena vyapayānti ca

"Tell me, O best of men, which living entities aren't affected by danger, which is like a fire that catches on and then eventually vanishes?" (66.6)

duḥkhito hi bhavān lokān tejasā yadi dhakṣyate ।

ārtāḥ prajā nara vyāghra kva nu yāsyanti nir।hvṛtim

loka svabhāva eva eṣa yayātiḥ nahuṣa ātmajaḥ ।

gataḥ śakreṇa sālokyam anayaḥ tam samaspṛśat

"My Lord, if, through Your effulgence, You set the entire planet ablaze and put it into a distressful situation, where will the distressed citizens go, O tiger among men, for solace? This [having to deal with temporary setbacks] is certainly characteristic of this world. Even King Yayāti, the son of Nahuṣa, after ascending to the heavenly planets of Indra was touched with inauspiciousness." (66.7-8)

mahāṛṣi yaḥ vasiṣṭhaḥ tu yaḥ pituḥ naḥ purohitaḥ ।

ahnā putra śatam jajñe tathaiva asya punar hatam

"Vasiṣṭha, who is a mahārṣi and our father's priest, begot one hundred sons in one day, only to see them slain again in one day." (66.9)

yā ca iyam jagato mātā sarva loka namaskṛtā ।

asyāḥ ca calanam bhūmeḥ dṛśyate kosaleśvara

"O Lord of Kośala, even the Earth, who is the mother of the world and respected by everyone, suffers distress in the form of earthquakes." (66.10)

yau dharmau jagatām netre yatra sarvam pratiṣṭhitam ।

āditya candrau grahaṇam abhyupetau mahābalau

"Even the mighty sun and moon, who are the eyes of the world, the epitomes of virtue and duty, and in whom the whole world is situated, have to suffer through eclipses." (66.11)

sumahānti api bhūtāni devāḥ ca puruṣa ṛṣabha ।

na daivasya pramuṃcanti sarva bhūtāni dehinaḥ

"O best among men, what to speak of demigods and even great beings [planets] - every living entity who accepts a material body becomes subject to the influence of destiny." (66.12)

śakra ādiṣu api deveṣu vartamānau naya anayau ।

śrūyete nara śārdūla na tvam vyathitum arhasi

"We have heard that even the demigods, who are headed by Śakra [Indra], are subject to auspiciousness and inauspiciousness. Therefore, O tiger among men, You should not be perturbed." (66.13)

hṛtāyām api vaidehyām naṣṭāyām api rāghava ।

śocitum na arhase vīra yathā anyaḥ prākṛtaḥ tathā

"O Rāghava, even if Vaidehī [Sītā] has been killed or taken away, it is not appropriate for You, O brave one, to lament in the same way as an ordinary person." (66.14)

tvat vidhā nahi śocanti satatam sarva darśinaḥ ।

sumahatsu api kṛcchreṣu rāma anir।hviṇṇa darśanāḥ

"O Rāma, keen observers such as Yourself never lament even when faced with the most distressful of situations, for they are able to maintain a steady outlook." (66.15)

tattvato hi naraśreṣṭha buddhyā samanuciṃtaya ।

buddhyā yuktā mahāprājñā vijānanti śubha aśubhe

"O best among men, after fixing Your intelligence in transcendental knowledge, do You follow completely the course of action decided by Your mind. Being engaged in activities guided by intelligence [buddhyā-yukta], those possessing great wisdom can decipher between auspicious and inauspicious activities." (66.16)

adṛṣṭa guṇa doṣāṇām adhṛvāṇām ca karmaṇām ।

na antareṇa kriyām teṣām phalaṁ iṣṭam ca vartate

"Unseen and indefinite are the good and bad reactions of fruitive work. And without taking action, the desired fruits of such work cannot manifest." (66.17)

mām evam hi purā vīra tvam eva bahuśo uktavān ।

anuśiṣyāt hi ko nu tvām api sākṣāt bṛhaspatiḥ

"O hero, many times in the past You had spoken the same words of instruction to me. Of course how can anyone, be they even Bṛhaspati [the priest of the demigods] himself, be capable of instructing You?" (66.18)

buddhiḥ ca te mahāprājña devaiḥ api durhanvayā ।

śokena abhiprasuptam te jñānam sambodhayāmi ahaṁ

"O You of great intellect, not even the demigods can fathom the level of Your intelligence. Due to bereavement Your wisdom is currently in a dormant state, and I am here to rouse it." (66.19)

divyam ca mānuṣam ca evam ātmanaḥ ca parākramam ।

ikṣvāku vṛṣabha avekṣya yatasva dviṣatām vadhe

"O best of the Ikṣvākus, considering Your powerful divine and human capabilities, please strive for the destruction of Your enemies." (66.20)

kim te sarva vināśena kṛtena puruṣa ṛṣabha ।

tam eva tu ripum pāpam vijñāya uddhartum arhasi

"O best of men, what is the use of Your destroying the entire world? After finding out Your sinful enemy, You should uproot him alone." (66.21)

# Chapter 1 - Ambrosia

"Like the demigods obtaining ambrosia, King Daśaratha, after performing great austerities and great deeds, obtained You as a son." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.3)

Obtaining a direct audience with God is the only way to achieve true immortality. Our lives are destined to end at some point, and our future destination remains unknown to us. Great devotees of the past showed us by example how to make the most of our auspicious human life. They performed great austerities and religious functions over many lifetimes to finally achieve direct association with God. The dream of immortality can be realized by following their lead and always performing devotional service.

There are many examples in history of ordinary human beings performing extraordinary religious feats. One such person was Mahārāja Daśaratha, the king of Ayodhyā during the Tretā Yuga. Daśaratha was a highly pious individual who was part of the famed Ikṣvāku dynasty. The Vedas, the ancient scriptures of India, tell us that the first king on earth was Mahārāja Ikṣvāku. Since he was the first king, he set the standard for good government and chivalry. All his direct descendants were known as the Ikṣvākus, and they were all equally as pious. The Śrīmad Bhāgavatam tells us that the Ikṣvāku dynasty finally ended with King Sumitra.

As a pious king, Daśaratha regularly performed elaborate sacrifices. He also lived by austerity, or tapasya. Saintly kings in the Vedic tradition are known as rāja-ṛṣis, meaning they are more than just kings. A king refers to a government leader or a ruler of a kingdom or community. The term "king" also connotes an idea of supreme dominion and unfettered sense gratification. "If only I could be king for a day" is how the famous saying goes. This points to how the leader of a country is seen as the most privileged citizen. Leaders call the shots; they make all the decisions. The Vedas tell us that kings have a much higher responsibility than to simply indulge their senses. A king is viewed as God's representative on earth, so he must be chivalrous and religious at the same time. Though kings weren't learned Vedic scholars or priests, they were smart enough to know to take advice on all matters from the brāhmaṇas, or the priestly class of men. Therefore a king who abided by the religious codes passed down from generation to generation was considered to be saintly.

Though in the past there were many great kings, Daśaratha is particularly famous because Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, kindly appeared on earth and took birth as his eldest son named Rāma. On the surface, this may seem like mythology. "How can God come to earth? This is what every religion tries to do. They take an ordinary human being who displays certain extraordinary traits, and they make him God." This line of thinking may seem plausible, but the Vedas provide much evidence to back up the claim that Lord Rāma was an incarnation of God. Knowing that the less intelligent class of men would be prone to declaring incarnations of God willy-nilly, the Vedas provide a detailed list of all of God's primary incarnations. Lord Rāma is declared an incarnation of God not only in one book, the Rāmāyaṇa, but in many other books. There are eighteen major Purāṇas, or books relating to Vedic history, and in many of them, the life and pastimes of Lord Rāma are described. Therefore the followers of Lord Rāma have much evidence that they can cite to back up the claim that Rāma is indeed God.

How did Daśaratha become qualified to have God appear as his son? The first thing he did was perform great austerities. Austerities are known as tapasya, and they are intended to be a sacrifice for God. We all perform some sort of austerity to better our condition, but tapasya is especially geared towards pleasing God. Why would the Lord want us to punish ourselves? It can be thought of as a form of tough love. Tapasya involves severely restricting the influence of the senses. The senses are always telling us to eat more, drink more, sleep more, and have more sex. We all know that too much of any of these activities is bad for us. Tapasya takes this idea of regulation to a new level. By observing fasts on auspicious days, and only eating the remnants of sacrifice, yajña-śiṣṭa, tapasvīs gain the highest benefit in life.

How can we benefit from fasting? If we starve ourselves for a short period of time because God asks us to, it is more likely that we will think of Him during the fasting period. Not only will we think of Him, but we will be in a weakened condition as well. We will be more likely to develop an attachment to Him since the influence of the senses will be curbed. The Vedas tell us that the primary aim of life is to learn about God, use that knowledge to serve Him, and then eventually develop a loving attachment to Him as a result of performing that service.

Daśaratha performed great austerities not only in his current life, but in a previous one as well. There is a pūjā, or religious ritual, observed by householders of the Hindu faith known as the Satyanārāyaṇa Vrata. It is usually performed once a month during the full moon, and it involves offering some food, reading a few stories, and performing ārati, or the offering of lights. The stories read during this pūjā tell us of the benefits related to performing it. This pūjā is essentially a karma-kāṇḍa activity, meaning it is performed by those desiring material benefits such as good health and a happy family life. At the end of one of the stories, we are told of some famous people who previously observed the vrata and eventually achieved perfection in life. King Daśaratha is one of the people mentioned. The story states that in a previous life Daśaratha regularly performed the Satyanārāyaṇa pūjā and was rewarded by taking birth as a pious king in his next life whose son would be Lord Rāma.

After performing two great sacrifices in particular, King Daśaratha was finally blessed with a son; four in fact. Rāma was the eldest son and the one closest to the king. Getting God as a son is one thing, but how does this relate to achieving perfection in life? Due to the attachment he had for Rāma, Daśaratha had the great fortune of thinking of God at the time of death. Through a series of unfortunate events, Lord Rāma was banished from the kingdom of Ayodhyā and forced to roam the forests of India for fourteen years. Daśaratha couldn't stand to be separated from Rāma, so he died shortly after Rāma left for the forest. He died while thinking of his illustrious son. The Vedas tell us that this is the best way to die.

This may seem strange on the surface. Daśaratha died due to being separated from his son, so how could this be viewed as a good thing? The Vedas tell us that our consciousness at the time of death determines the type of body we will receive in the next life. Many of us are under the belief that if we simply act somewhat piously in this life, then we will go to heaven after we die, and that conversely, the sinful will go to hell. This is true to an extent, but Vedic information provides a little more clarity on the issue. The material creation consists of innumerable planets. Life doesn't just exist on earth. If we act on the level of karma, meaning if we perform fruitive activity aimed at achieving some desired material result, we can certainly ascend to heaven or descend to hell in the afterlife. However, residence in either place is not permanent because both heaven and hell are part of the material creation. Heaven is considered part of the upper planetary system and hell the lower planetary system. This is why most of us point to the sky when referring to heaven and to the ground when referring to hell.

This repeating cycle of birth and death, travelling from one planet to another, is known as reincarnation. The type of body we receive in the next life is determined by our consciousness at the time of death. Our consciousness at the time of death is determined by the activities performed over the course of our many many lifetimes on earth. Daśaratha thought of Rāma, or God, at the time of death and was thus rewarded with liberation, or immortality in the spiritual world. This makes complete sense if we think about it. The time of death is a time of great panic. The life air is about to exit the body, so we have very little time to get bogged down by the usual problems of life. In this state of panic, our life essentially flashes before our very eyes. The things that are most important to us in life are the things that we will remember during this time. This consciousness is a harbinger of things to come in the afterlife. If we are fortunate enough to remember God at this time, we will surely be rewarded.

Note: In the 5th verse of the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that anyone who, at the end of life, remembers Him while quitting their body automatically attains the nature of the Lord, and that there is no doubt of this.

The God conscious travelling soul is rewarded with a nature similar to that of God. In one sense, we are all already immortal. Our true identity comes from the spirit soul residing within, and this soul is not subject to birth, death, or destruction. When we speak of immortality, we are referring to the type of body the soul is placed into. Currently we are considered mortal because our material body is subject to creation and destruction. Immortality can be achieved when we are put into a body which is eternal and unchanging. This type of body can only be acquired in the spiritual world. Matter is subordinate to spirit, and in a similar manner, this world we live in is subordinate to the spiritual world where Lord Kṛṣṇa, or God, resides. To live in the material world, which is governed by matter, we require a material body composed of the five gross and three subtle elements. To reside in the spiritual world, we require a spiritual body. This spiritual body is awarded to those who sincerely desire association with God. Since God is completely spirit, His body is eternal and always full of bliss and knowledge. By the same token, those who enjoy His company in the spiritual world have a similar type of body.

The above referenced statement was made by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. While residing in the forest, Rāma's wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Initially, Rāma was grief-stricken over the incident, so Lakṣmaṇa tried his best to console his elder brother. In this statement, Lakṣmaṇa is reminding Rāma that Daśaratha worked very hard to get Him as a son, and that He shouldn't let all that hard work go to waste by giving way to lamentation. Such a wonderful a brother as Lakṣmaṇa has never existed on this earth. Though this appears to be part of a pep-talk, Lakṣmaṇa is actually cluing us in on Lord Rāma's divinity.

In his statement, Lakṣmaṇa makes reference to the fact that Daśaratha's achieving Rāma was like that of the demigods achieving amṛta, or ambrosia. Amṛta is considered nectar which grants immortality, so those who are pious are always looking for this. The demigods and demons also once famously churned the sea, from which amṛta was produced. Lord Rāma is most certainly amṛta for anyone who associates with Him. Daśaratha achieved immortality in the spiritual world by getting Rāma as a son, so Lakṣmaṇa wanted to make sure that Rāma remained on earth to grant the same type of liberation to other devotees.

The lesson here is that we too can drink the sweet nectar of immortality that comes through association with God. In this age, God incarnates in the form of His holy names, so we simply need to regularly chant, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare", in order to achieve perfection. The key is to adjust things in such a way that we may always think of the Supreme Lord in the same way that Daśaratha did. We don't need to travel to the corners of the earth to look for immortality, for the secret to an eternal, blissful life can be found on the tip of our tongue. Simply reciting God's name in a loving way and having an affinity for hearing about Him are enough to grant liberation.

# Chapter 2 - Karma-mukta

"Being attached to Your qualities, the king, as we have heard from Bharata, attained the divine nature due to separation from You." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.4)

In the course of our lifetime, we are bound to come upon hard times. Especially as we get older, the days seem to repeat themselves. Since we've worked so hard to achieve our goals and maintain a steady family life, it just seems that there needs to be a break at some point. We work hard at the office for five days and then relax on the weekend. When the next week starts, we repeat the same cycle. What is the point to all of this? Why are we alive? Why do we have to perform activities to maintain our body? Even if we never think of these things, others most certainly do. Suicide hotlines exist to deal with these very situations. While there may be a variety of answers given by suicide prevention counselors as to why a person should remain alive, the most important reason is that only by living can we perform devotional service to God. This service is the highest occupation of man and is thus known as bhāgavata-dharma. Commitment to this service should be the only thing that keeps us bound to this life.

When we speak of someone being bound to the material world, we are referring to attachment. It is our attachments that guide our activities. When we form an attachment for something, we feel that we can't live without it. Whether it is a certain type of food, going out on the town, drinking alcohol, or even love for another person, attachments can give us a reason to live, something to make us get out of bed in the morning. In reality, we can most certainly live without these things, but the mind tricks us into thinking that we can't. These attachments may seem harmless on the surface, but the Vedas tell us that if one keeps these attachments up until the time of death, they will be forced to take birth again.

Note: In the 6th verse of the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa states that whatever nature one remembers while quitting their body at the time of death, that state of being they will attain in the next life without fail.

One may ask, "What is wrong with taking birth again? I think that's pretty cool. It means that we live forever." It certainly is a great benediction from God to be allowed to go through the cycle of enjoyment again. It is nice to know that we get second and third chances to get things right. But what exactly constitutes perfection in life? Why do we keep taking birth, and what can we do to stop the cycle? To gain liberation, the first requirement is the firm desire to stop reincarnation. Attachment to material objects doesn't help in this regard. Attachment results in karma-bandha, meaning it guarantees that we will assume another material body in the next life and be forced to take to fruitive activity again. The aim should be to gain release from having to perform fruitive activities, karma-mukta.

The opposite of like is dislike, or hatred. While some people view reincarnation as a great thing, others are bewildered by it. "You mean I have to suffer through the trials and tribulations of life all over again? I have to go through twelve years of schooling and then work like a dog until the day I die? No thank you!" Many suicide attempts are the result of the inability to cope with the troubles of day-to-day life. Though suicide may seem like a way out of our miseries, the Vedas tell us that it actually leads to more miseries. Suicide involves self-inflicted violence, something which the laws of nature must give punishment for. Suicide involves a sort of material attachment as well, for there is an attachment to the idea of violence. People who commit suicide don't even take birth again right away like other people. Instead, they remain in their subtle body consisting of mind, intelligence, and false ego. Hence they stay trapped in a ghost-like state until a family descendant performs pious activities in their favor.

So we see that strong attachment and strong hatred for material life both lead to misery. So what are we to do? In reality, there is only one reason to remain alive: to take up bhakti-yoga, or devotional service to God. As spirit souls, it is our constitutional position to be eternal servants of Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Kṛṣṇa is God, even though others may refer to Him by a different name. Even if one is unwilling to accept Kṛṣṇa as the original form of Godhead, they can still practice devotional service, provided they have an object of worship who is non-different from Kṛṣṇa. The idea is to perform all of our activities as a sacrifice for the Lord. Similar to how sports teams will dedicate a particular game or a season to a fallen teammate, we living entities should dedicate all of our activities to the Supreme Lord. This was the path taken by the great King Daśaratha many thousands of years ago, and he was rewarded with salvation.

In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is counseling his elder brother, Lord Rāma. In the Vedic tradition, God's original name is Kṛṣṇa. He resides in the spiritual sky on the planet of Kṛṣṇaloka. For the purposes of creation, maintenance, and destruction of the innumerable planetary systems, Kṛṣṇa expands Himself into Lord Viṣṇu. To show even more mercy to the fallen living entities dwelling on earth, Viṣṇu appears from time to time in various guises. As Lord Rāma, God appeared as a handsome and pious prince, dedicated to the welfare of the saintly class. Since God is so wonderful, naturally all His closest associates will also be. Rāma's father was Mahārāja Daśaratha, the king of Ayodhyā.

Though Daśaratha had many responsibilities associated with being king, he was not attached to any of them. He neither loved nor hated his title of king; he was firmly detached. Yet he still had someone in his life that served as his reason for living. That someone was Lord Rāma, who was the son that Daśaratha had long hoped for. The king's attachment to his eldest son was no secret. His entire life force was supported by the activities of Rāma. In this regard, we see how to attain perfection in life. Even though he didn't know it, Daśaratha was the perfect yogi in that all his activities were dovetailed with Rāma's service.

Due to a series of unfortunate events, Rāma had to leave the kingdom at a young age. He was banished to the forest and forced to reside there for fourteen years, having no connection with the kingdom. Daśaratha couldn't bear the separation from Rāma, so he died soon after Rāma left. In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa is reminding Rāma about how and why Daśaratha died, as they had heard from their brother Bharata. It is said that Daśaratha entered the divine [devatvam] realm, or assumed the divine nature. This means that he went to heaven and took on a spiritual body. At the time of Lakṣmaṇa's statement, Rāma's wife, Sītā Devī, had just been kidnapped by the demon Rāvaṇa while the group was residing in the forest. Rāma was feeling great grief due to separation from Sītā. Moreover, He didn't know what had happened to her, so He feared the worst.

Lakṣmaṇa tried to keep Rāma's spirits up. In essence, he said, "You were the only reason that our father remained alive. He was so attached to You that he gave up his body as soon as You left him. We are all equally as attached to You. If You give way to lamentation right now, what will be left of us? We will have no reason to live. You must continue Your activities so that our attachment will have meaning."

Lakṣmaṇa's words give us insight into how the great minds think. Why is it a good thing to be attached to God? From Lakṣmaṇa's statement, we see that Daśaratha attained the divine state since He thought of Rāma at the time of death. This is God's promise to us. If we remain attached to material life, we get a material body in our next birth. By the same token, if we remain attached to the supreme spirit, Lord Kṛṣṇa, we will attain a spiritual state in the next life. Having a spiritual body means we no longer associate with matter. The spiritual world is full of living entities possessing spiritual bodies who constantly associate with the Supreme Lord in His various forms.

We should be very thankful that we are alive and well, for every day that we wake up is another day that we can perform devotional service. If we are dead, we have no control over where we will end up next. We are alive today and conscious of our predicament. We should make the most of this opportunity by taking up the sublime mission of life, that of developing a total loving attachment to God. Though the Supreme Lord may not take birth as our son, we can have the same level of devotion to Him that Daśaratha did by regularly chanting the Lord's names, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare".

If we don't take up this mission, then our lives are essentially meaningless. Simply getting up every day and performing animalistic activity doesn't help us or those around us. On the flip side, performing devotional service not only helps the plight of our own soul, but of those around us as well. Aside from giving us a reason to live, chanting and hearing help others find their true purpose in life. The beauty of devotional service is that it is a full-time occupation, complete with variety and nuance. This means that each of us can find our niche in spiritual service, choosing that one special way to show our love for the Lord.

The more people that take up this sublime service, the more that will be rescued from the ocean of nescience represented by the activities of intoxication, gambling, and meat eating; activities which are just like quicksand in how they drag people further and further into hellish life. To make our lives perfect, we simply have to follow the great examples set by Daśaratha, Lakṣmaṇa, Sītā, Hanumān, and all the other great Vaiṣṇavas of the world. By saving ourselves, we can rescue others and thereby perform the highest service for mankind.

# Chapter 3 - The Rock

"O Kakutstha, if You are unable to tolerate this distress, then how will the common person or the meager be able to tolerate it?" (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.5)

Not everyone is born to be a leader, which means that most of us look to others for leadership and guidance. In times of trouble, even the strongest among us look to others for comfort and stability. If a friend or close confidante shows grace under pressure, our spirits are uplifted, and it makes it easier to persevere through tough times. Even if someone just says something as simple as, "Everything's going to be okay", it's enough to give us temporary relief. Having these kinds of people in our life is very important, even more so for society at large. If our leaders exude confidence and show steadiness under pressure, the rest of society will follow suit.

Why is it important to not panic in emergencies? An emergency, by definition, is a troublesome situation. Who wouldn't give way to lamentation or fear during such a time? This is precisely why it is necessary to have people around who don't give way to grief, for most of us wouldn't be so calm. If our authority figures panic under duress, it makes it easier for the rest of us to lose our cool. The famous American television sitcom, Seinfeld, had an episode that illustrated this principle. One of the main characters on the show, George Costanza, was attending a children's birthday party when a fire broke out. George's character type was that of a seedy fellow, someone who was selfish and didn't abide by social conventions. He was always looking for shortcuts in life, and he didn't care who got in his way.

In this particular episode, when the fire broke out, instead of remaining calm, George panicked. In fact, he lost his cool in the worst possible way. He repeatedly screamed out, "Fire! Fire!" and then ran out of the house, throwing aside any women and children that were in his way. Later on, the adults at the party confronted him regarding his behavior, and George tried to lie his way out of it. The adults were angry because he, as an adult, should have acted more maturely. Young children growing up in school are given lessons on fire safety. The breakout of a fire is one of the more common emergency situations that come up. Students repeatedly go through fire drills, wherein they are told to remain calm and exit the building, single-file, in a controlled manner. If clothing should catch fire, children are taught to remember three words: stop, drop, and roll. These three words are used to convey the need for calm and peace during an emergency. Fire on the clothing requires immediate attention, so it can be considered a greater emergency than a general fire. Yet the protocol during this increased emergency doesn't call for increased panic, running, or screaming. Rather, the victims are told to immediately stop what they are doing, drop to the floor in a calm manner, and then roll so that the effects of the fire will be limited.

The heroes in society are those who don't get flustered under pressure. Firefighters and police officers are especially recognized for their bravery. In the infamous 9/11 attacks in New York City, firefighters and police officers were called to the rescue. Based on the firsthand accounts of the people on the scene, many firefighters and police officers refused to leave the burning Twin Towers, for they did not want to leave any innocent victims behind. Many of these brave men were told that the buildings were about to collapse and that if they didn't leave, they would surely die. Many of them still decided to stay, thereby voluntarily giving up their own lives in favor of helping others.

The heroes teach us by example. If they show steadiness under pressure, we are more likely to have our fears allayed. If you conducted a poll around the world and asked people what would be the one thing they would want, the most common response would be "World peace." Heroes help to give us some semblance of peace, especially during troubling times.

By the same token, our life here on earth can be thought of as a continuing saga of misery and heartache, chaos and despair. The Vedas, the ancient scriptures of India, tell us that this world is not meant to be our permanent home. It is a temporary place, full of miseries. This may seem like a pessimistic view, but it is not intended to be. Human life is considered a great boon because it is our best chance to learn about God and use that information to love Him. This love can then take us to the spiritual world, which is free of anxieties and miseries, Vaikuṇṭha.

The root cause of our anxiety stems from our forgetfulness of God and His powers. This is easy to forget because we are born into ignorance. We have lived many previous lives, and those past experiences determined the circumstances of our current birth. Nevertheless, we are pretty much ignorant once we come out of the womb. We have to be taught everything that we know, either directly by someone else, or indirectly through new life experiences. If no one teaches us about God, or if we remain obstinate in our pursuit of material sense gratification, we will lose touch with the Supreme Lord. Since the material world is ultimately subject to destruction, so is everything contained within. This includes our own bodies, along with all of our possessions and relationships. Knowing that we are going to die is probably the greatest cause of our distress.

Note: In the 20th verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that the soul never dies or takes birth. It never came into being nor will it cease to exist in the future. The soul is permanent, eternal, and the oldest entity. The soul does not die when the body is killed.

Since we know we are going to die, some of us try to cram as much sense gratification into our lives as possible. This isn't really a good solution because death is not the end, but rather the beginning of a new life. Just because we die once, it doesn't mean that we don't take birth again. But most of us don't realize that we'll take birth again, for we have no knowledge of our previous lives. If we understand the imperishable nature of the soul, we can understand that we have no reason to fear death or the loss of our valuable possessions.

So if we shouldn't focus on sense gratification, what should we do with our time? What is the purpose of our being put on earth? How should we act? To guide us in our activities, Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, gave us dharma, or religiosity. Dharma actually never gets created, but rather exists at all times. Issues arise because we forget what dharma is and why it exists in the first place. The exact definition of dharma is "something which defines the essence of something". When applied to the living entities, it means that which defines our existence as spirit souls. Since our original nature is to be loving servants of the Supreme Lord, dharma can be taken to be religiosity, or our occupational duty.

This occupational duty manifests through a set of law codes and recommendations that we must follow in order to make our lives perfect. Perfection in life means returning back to Godhead in the afterlife. Knowing that we would have a hard time residing in the material world, Kṛṣṇa imparted the system of dharma to the first created living entity, Lord Brahmā. He then passed it down from generation to generation. The principles of dharma are set forth in the Vedas, which are the original scriptures for mankind. Veda means knowledge, and since the original Vedas expound on the system of dharma, they are considered the highest form of knowledge.

If these scriptures have existed since the beginning of time, why do most of us continue to live in fear? Why do we overly lament over misfortunes, and overly rejoice during the good times? Why are we fearful of death, and why do we go to any means to try to prolong our life of sense gratification? What happens is that, over time, the system of dharma deteriorates. Though we are naturally disposed towards abiding by dharma, contact with material nature tends to skew things. Matter is subordinate to spirit, but we become illusioned into thinking that the reverse is true. Material life means worshiping matter. This worship involves the intense search for sense gratification in the form of beauty, wealth, and fame. These things are all related to matter, something which is controlled by spirit.

Note: In the 7th verse of the 4th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna, a descendant of King Bharata, that whenever and wherever there is a decline in religious practice, and a predominant rise of irreligious behavior, the Lord personally descends to earth.

The more time spent associating with matter, the further we drift away from dharma. To reestablish the principles of dharma, to annihilate the miscreants, and to also give pleasure to the devotees, the Supreme Lord personally advents on earth from time to time. One such occasion was during the Tretā Yuga when Lord Kṛṣṇa appeared on earth in the guise of a handsome and pious prince named Rāma. Each of Kṛṣṇa's incarnations has specific characteristics and features, and as Lord Rāma, God was especially focused on abiding by established dharma and setting a good example.

As the eldest son of the King of Ayodhyā, Lord Rāma took it upon Himself to uphold the great tradition of the Ikṣvāku dynasty. The rulers in this line were all known for their strict adherence to piety. They were all chivalrous and ruled the citizens perfectly. They didn't play any favorites as far as the people went; everyone was treated fairly. Lord Rāma was so well known for His detachment and equanimity that even His enemies had respect for Him. Even though Lord Rāma punished them, the criminals knew that He had no personal grudge against them, for He was simply following the proper code of conduct.

Lord Rāma not only set an example on how to be a great government leader, but He also taught us how to persevere through troubling situations. We tend to think of God as being very opulent and powerful, and while this is certainly true, the Lord also possesses the quality of renunciation to the fullest extent. This quality was exhibited by Rāma through His reactions to a series of unfortunate events. First, the kingdom which was rightfully His was taken away from Him. Not only was Rāma passed over to be the next king, but He was banished from the kingdom for fourteen years, forced to wander the forests of India. Then, as a result of being separated from his son due to the exile, Rāma's beloved father, King Daśaratha, died prematurely. To make matters worse, while residing in the forest, Rāma's beautiful and chaste wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa.

The combination of these tragic events would be enough to make even the strongest person contemplate suicide. Though Rāma was God Himself, He still played along in His role as a human being. After Sītā was kidnapped, He lamented greatly. He was ready to destroy the entire world with His arrows. Rāma was an expert kṣatriya warrior, skilled in using the most powerful of mantras. Recitation of these mantras would make the arrows shot from His bow equal in potency to today's nuclear weapons. Lord Rāma didn't know what had happened to Sītā, so He thought the worst. He gave way to lamentation and grief.

Rāma's younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa, stepped in to console his brother. Instead of giving way to grief, Lakṣmaṇa gave Rāma a pep talk. In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa is reminding Rāma that He is supposed to be a leader. If Rāma were to give way to grief, then every ordinary person in society would have an excuse to give up when the going got tough. Obviously Rāma wasn't really grief stricken, for He was God Himself, but this situation nevertheless shows the greatness of Lakṣmaṇa. We could only wish to have such a brother as Lakṣmaṇa. He was so devoted and pious that he was willing to even correct God Himself.

Eventually Lord Rāma regained His composure and decided to continue His search for Sītā. He would be successful in finding and rescuing her and killing Rāvaṇa in the process. Lakṣmaṇa's words were certainly true though. If Rāma had given up, all of His devotees and followers would have an easy excuse to give up and to not try to make the most of their lives. We should all follow Rāma's example and try to remember that we should never deviate from the pious path, even if the worst things happen to us. Good and bad things happen on their own, and we should not let them affect us.

Note: In the 15th verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna, the best among men, that the person to whom all the temporary conditions in life borne of sense perception are never distressing, who is undisturbed and patient in both happiness and distress, becomes eligible for immortal life, or liberation.

In today's age, however, it is easy to forget these things. One of the symptoms of the Kali Yuga is that most people are not religious. Taking the gross material body to be the beginning and end of everything, we are worshiping matter instead of God. Therefore it is the duty of devotees of Kṛṣṇa to follow in Lakṣmaṇa's footsteps. If we believe in Kṛṣṇa, have knowledge of the Absolute Truth, and have firm faith in the superiority of devotional service, we should take it upon ourselves to share this information with others. Since devotees know that Kṛṣṇa is the creator, maintainer, and destroyer of all things material, they are able to persevere through even the most troubling of situations. It is incumbent upon the devotees to set a good example for others to follow. Lord Caitanya said that all of us should become gurus, or spiritual masters, simply by talking about Kṛṣṇa with others. If we regularly chant, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare" and abide by the four regulative principles, other people will have a nice example to follow. We can make the most of this precious human form of life by being solid as a rock in our performance of devotional service.

# Chapter 4 - Weathering The Storm

"Tell me, O best of men, which living entities aren't affected by danger, which is like a fire that catches on and then eventually vanishes?" (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.6)

One of the more memorable instructions from the Bhagavad-gītā is that one should remain calm and peaceful at all times, even through adversity. The Gītā is a spiritual text describing the famous conversation between Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and His disciple and cousin, Arjuna. The conversation touches on a wide variety of topics, including the eternal nature of the soul and how one should go about conducting themselves in their day-to-day lives. Since the work is so compelling, even non-devotees and religious scholars have taken to studying it. The passages relating to how one should deal with stressful situations are very appealing to people of all persuasions. Lord Kṛṣṇa's ultimate instruction is that we should not let the ups and downs of material life get in the way of executing our prescribed duties. Nothing should get in the way of achieving perfection in life.

Who among us doesn't have trouble dealing with adversity? Something as simple as bad weather can put us in a foul mood. In the Northeastern part of the United States, the weather is always changing. It never stays too hot or too cold for any extended period of time. People living in this area have to deal with heavy rains, snow, scorching heat, and high humidity. Even during the spring and autumn months, where the temperatures are not extreme in either direction, people have to deal with allergies. The allergic reactions from pollen, grass, and trees can be more painful than even extreme temperatures. Allergies cause our skin to itch, our nose to run, and our eyes to become red.

In industrialized nations, another cause of great discomfort is automobile traffic. The car is certainly a great invention, for it allows anyone to be a captain of their own ship. The automobile is the symbol of freedom, with the inside of the car being a place where no one can boss you around. You can drive wherever you want, at any time of the day or year. Driving should be a smooth task, but what causes hiccups is the fact that there are other drivers on the road. We are all equally citizens after all, so each one of us has an equal right to enjoy our God-given liberty. Problems do arise, however, when there are too many cars on the road. This leads to a condition referred to as traffic. High volume is not the only cause of traffic either. Congestion can also result from car accidents, inclement weather, and road construction. As soon as it starts raining or snowing, people reduce their driving speeds.

Traffic can be very irritating to the impatient driver. It's an inconvenience that usually comes unexpectedly. "Why can't the cars in front of me just move already? Why are they driving so slow?" These are some of our lamentations as we sit in the car and anxiously wait for the traffic to clear. Inconveniences can also be caused by other drivers. Since we all possess different material qualities, not all of us will be "good" drivers. Some will drive slower than others, some will be more willing to adhere to traffic laws, and some will have no concern for other drivers whatsoever. In America, the left-hand lane on a highway is considered the passing lane. If you are stuck behind a slow car, you can move to the left lane to pass that car. Yet many people like to park themselves in the left lane and simply coast. They have no desire to pass anybody. This not only goes against driving etiquette, but it also leads to increased congestion, and eventually accidents. Cars that want to pass now have to hope that the right lane, the slower lane, is free in order to be able to get around the slow car in the left lane.

These and other issues on the road can cause us to lose our temper. There is a common phenomenon known as "road rage" which describes the anger people feel when driving. In America there are driving courses that people can take that will help them save money on their car insurance. These classes, which last for more than five hours, always include a section about dealing with road rage.

Why is it important to educate people about keeping their cool? In most instances, losing our temper leads to bad things. When driving, if we lose our temper, we are more likely to get into an accident. We may decide to start harassing another car that is out on the road, or we will start cursing and yelling. Simply based on the immediate results of this rage, we can see that it is better to keep our cool. If we step back from the situation, we see that road rage makes absolutely no sense. In the grand scheme of things, if it takes a little longer to get to where we are going, what have we really lost? If someone insults us on the road, what do we really gain by engaging them? On the other hand, if we get into an accident as a result of our rage, we can lose our life in an instant.

The wise are those who realize the temporary nature of life's ups and downs, and thus always keep their cool. It is better to remain calm and collected since this is a condition more conducive for focusing on the task at hand. While abiding by this principle is important in our normal everyday affairs, it takes on an even greater role in spiritual life. The Vedas, the ancient scriptures of India, tell us that human life is meant for God realization. What does this mean exactly? The human being is considered the most advanced species due to its level of intelligence. Animals, plants, and aquatics have no idea who they are, or why they are put on this earth. They don't even realize they are going to die. Fish are not smart enough to realize that if they eat too much food at one time, they will die.

Through trial and error, and through the teachings passed down by previous generations, we human beings can understand all of these things. Every one of our ancestors has died. They were no different than us when their lives started. They had hopes and dreams; they wanted to be happy and peaceful. Yet in the end, they were still forced to die. Therefore we can conclude that we must also have to die at some point. Knowing this, what is the point to life? Why are we put here on this earth if we don't get to stay here?

People take different approaches towards answering these questions. Some like to study nature, trying to rule out various reasons as to what the point of life is. The first thing that gets ruled out is sense gratification. By nature, an animal simply wants to take part in eating, sleeping, mating, and defending. Human beings also have these tendencies, but since we know that we are going to die, we can see that there must be more to life than just temporary sense gratification.

If sense gratification is bad, then maybe the opposite is good? Maybe the point to human life is to negate all activity and hope to eventually achieve a state of peace? This is the philosophy of the jnanis, or impersonalist speculators. This line of thinking may seem plausible, but it doesn't explain why we were put here in the first place. If the aim of life is to stop activity, why was there any activity to begin with? If material nature is so bad, who created it? Why does it exist at all?

We can go on mentally speculating in this way forever and never come to a concrete conclusion. The great saints of the past tell us that there is a good reason for this. Our brains are products of this material creation, so they are flawed in nature. We certainly have superiority over all other species in the intelligence category, but this does not mean that we are the smartest person. After all, we weren't even able to control the circumstances of our birth, so how smart can we actually be? The great sages of India tell us that the smartest person in the world is God. He is the source of all things matter and spirit. It is due to His intelligence that this material world exists. He allowed us to come to this world and associate with matter. For this reason, God is more accurately defined as the Supreme Personality of Godhead. This supreme person also has a name: Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa.

How do we know about Kṛṣṇa? We can't find Him through mental speculation or by performing mathematical proofs. The only way we can even begin to understand Him is to hear from His devotee. A pure devotee of Kṛṣṇa is one who has learned the science of bhakti-yoga, or devotional service, from his own spiritual master. If we ascend the chain of spiritual masters, we eventually make our way to Kṛṣṇa, or God. Perfect knowledge can only be acquired from someone who is perfect themselves. As human beings we are most certainly a flawed species, prone to committing mistakes and cheating. However, these defects don't exist in God. Therefore His teachings are perfect, and anyone who properly understands them is also perfect.

Note: In the 34th verse of the 9th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna to always engage the mind in thinking of Him, perform worship of Him, offer obeisances unto Him, and become the Lord's devotee. Being absorbed completely in devotion to Kṛṣṇa, Arjuna will surely come to Him.

The spotless spiritual masters, the great Vaiṣṇava saints, tell us that the point of human life is to use our intelligence to serve God. The process is actually quite simple: learn to love God and you will always remain in His association. The idea is to change our consciousness. Currently all the plans that we make are related to material life, those things which are temporary. Perfection is achieved when our consciousness is changed from the material to the spiritual. We are all spirit souls at our core, but God is the Supreme Spirit. If we think of Him at all times in a loving way, we can achieve perfection in life. If we are Kṛṣṇa conscious at the time of death, we immediately ascend to the spiritual sky, wherefrom we never return.

This formula seems simple enough. We just take to any of the nine processes of devotional service, and everything will be hunky-dory. But things aren't that easy. The famous acharya, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Öhākura, used to say that the path of devotional life is one riddled with thorns. This means that initially taking up bhāgavata-dharma, or devotional service, can be very difficult. This is pretty easy to understand actually. We are so used to our conditional life that spiritual life is something foreign to us. The key components of devotional life are the regular chanting of God's names, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare", and abstention from the four pillars of sinful life: meat-eating, gambling, illicit sex, and intoxication.

Just the requirement of giving up intoxication is enough to disqualify many from becoming God conscious. There are other issues to deal with as well, such as friends, family, work, and school. Most everyone is in a conditioned state, so they are unfamiliar with the tenets of the Vedas. Anyone who takes up the sublime mission of devotional service likely won't have many friends to consult or people to help them. This makes things difficult in the beginning stages. Spiritual life is meant to be simple, so any obstacles that come in our way can seriously hamper our mood.

The key is to always remain steadfast and realize that ups and downs are both temporary. This was the lesson taught by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is counseling Rāma by telling Him that peril certainly comes to everyone, but that it quickly disappears just as how a small fire eventually burns out. Lord Rāma was an incarnation of God who appeared on earth many thousands of years ago. He assumed the guise of a human being and played the role of a pious, kṣatriya prince. On one occasion, Rāma's wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped in the forest in Rāma's absence. Unable to find Sītā, Rāma gave way to lamentation and anger. He was ready to destroy the entire world out of rage; something He was more than capable of doing considering He was God Himself.

One would be hard pressed to find a better brother than Lakṣmaṇa. He always looked out for Rāma, even though the Lord didn't require such help. Lakṣmaṇa loved Rāma purely and without any motive. Since he was a perfect devotee, it's not surprising to see that his words of advice were perfect as well. Lord Rāma was God Himself, but He was playing the role of an ordinary human being. To relate to the rest of us, Rāma decided to openly show His grief for having lost Sītā. After this talk, however, Rāma's spirits were uplifted and He resumed His search for His wife. With the help of Lakṣmaṇa and the Vānara army led by Hanumān, Rāma would eventually find and rescue Sītā.

The best gurus, or spiritual masters, are those who give us the proper advice at just the right time. Lakṣmaṇa was one such guru. His instructions were perfect many thousands of years ago, and they still remain so today. We will all most certainly face trouble in our religious pursuits, but we should never let temporary gains or setbacks take us off the straightened path. Heat and cold, pains and pleasures, victories and defeats all come and go on their own. The aim of life is to achieve the ultimate victory of returning back to Godhead. This reward can only be secured by those who can weather all of life's storms. Always keeping Lakṣmaṇa's words in mind, we can most certainly achieve success.

# Chapter 5 - Nothing Lasts Forever

"My Lord, if, through Your effulgence, You set the entire planet ablaze and put it into a distressful situation, where will the distressed citizens go, O tiger among men, for solace? This [having to deal with temporary setbacks] is certainly characteristic of this world. Even King Yayāti, the son of Nahuṣa, after ascending to the heavenly planets of Indra was touched with inauspiciousness." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.7-8)

This is a nice explanation given by Śrī Lakṣmaṇa on the temporary nature of God's inferior energy. Whatever material rewards we receive in life, we can be sure that they won't last forever. We are also guaranteed to come upon hard times again in some form or another. Even if we receive the highest material benefit of ascension to the heavenly planets, we still run the risk of falling back down to earth, as was the case with the great King Yayāti. Keeping these facts in mind, the wise take it upon themselves to associate exclusively with God's superior energy.

"What goes up, must come down" is how the famous saying goes. Nothing lasts forever. In the course of our day-to-day lives, there are times when we are very happy and times when we are very sad. Sometimes this change in mood can happen in an instant. By repeatedly going through such mood swings day after day for many years, the pattern becomes easier to recognize. Realizing this, we may start to wonder if it's really a good idea to get too caught up in either extreme; the highs or the lows. The news, friends, work, family, birth, old age, disease, etc; these things all come and go on their own. It is not wise to get too overly attached to anything which is transient.

This is easier said than done however. The world of sports does a good job of illustrating the reality of the temporary nature of highs and lows. Each year there are certain sporting events that are eagerly anticipated: the Masters Golf tournament, Wimbledon for tennis fans, and the Super Bowl for football fans. There is much hype surrounding each of these events, with media doing wall-to-wall coverage before and after. The drama of these events can be quite gripping too. If the Wimbledon Final goes to a fifth set, or if the final round of the Masters goes into sudden death playoff holes, fans remain on the edge of their seats. Finally a victor emerges, and fans either rejoice or despair.

Let's fast forward one year after this exciting moment. Does anyone think about who won the tournament the previous year? Some certainly do, especially those fans of the previous year's winner. Yet once the next tournament starts, the drama begins anew. The previous year's memories are erased, if not completely, but at least partially. Even if fans reminisce of years past, they can never recapture the same feeling of excitement that existed when the event was actually taking place. For the tournaments we are watching today, the events we are so caught up in that are presently unfolding, the thrills resulting from these experiences will expire very quickly. In tennis and golf, there are four major tournaments each year. This means that as soon as the next major tournament begins, the events of the immediately preceding tournament are forgotten.

This same principle holds true with everything in this material world. Government elections also illustrate this principle. As soon as a new candidate is elected to office, there immediately begins a rush of rumors as to who will run in the next election. The news cycle changes so quickly that no one would dare think of reading a newspaper that is more than one day old. Noticing all of these patterns, the wise realize that there is no need to get overly worked up over victories and defeats, pains and pleasures, or good times and bad times. God's inferior energy is temporary in nature, so these dualities are bound to exist.

Does this mean that we should just give up all our activities? After all, if we work hard for something, we see that the resulting pleasure doesn't last very long. The correct approach is to break free of our association with God's inferior energy and instead become attached to the superior energy. What is the difference between these two energies? God's personal realm, which includes all of His personal expansions and things created by His internal energy, is known as the spiritual world. The material world is everything else, i.e. the place that we currently inhabit. Spirit is immutable, unchangeable, and eternal. Therefore anything that is part of the spiritual energy will inherit these traits. Though the material world was also created by the Supreme Spirit, God, it has different characteristics. This is by design. God's external energy is meant to be temporary and flawed because it exists solely for those living entities who want to pretend to be God. There can only be one "God" in the spiritual world, so if we want to imitate the Lord, we have to associate with an inferior energy.

"So the material world is bad and the spiritual world is good. But I live in the material world right now? How do I get out?" To help the living entities break free of the delusion brought upon by the material qualities, God gave us dharma. More than just religion, dharma is something that is ever-existing inside of us. It is what defines us. Currently we are falsely identifying ourselves as Americans, Indians, African-Americans, whites, etc. Our true identity is that of a spirit soul, an eternal servant of God. Dharma is that discipline which helps us remember this fact. When we understand that we are God's servants and not ourselves God, our whole outlook on life changes.

Note: In the 64th verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that one who has become free from all attachment and detachment and who is able to control their senses by practicing the regulative principles of freedom attains the mercy of the Lord.

Those who are God conscious decide that the aim of life is to serve God and nothing else. Therefore they can still do the same day-to-day activities, but they don't have any attachment to them. If we don't have any attachment to these activities, why should we even perform them? The answer is that our bodies must be maintained somehow. We can only realize God if we are alive. We all have different qualities and desires, and therefore we have a penchant to perform different kinds of work. This work is what maintains our bodies; therefore it should not be given up on a whim. It is wiser to continue with our prescribed duties, while simultaneously developing a loving attachment to God.

How do we achieve this condition? The easiest way is to regularly chant the holy names of the Lord, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". We can also read books about God, visit His temples, talk to other devotees, and sing songs about Him. The possibilities are endless. These activities can all be performed by any person, regardless of their disposition, cultural background, age, etc. This discipline is known as bhāgavata-dharma, or devotional service. Bhāgavata refers to Bhagavān, which is a more accurate name for God. The Vedas tell us that the supreme living entity is so great that the name God doesn't do Him justice. A better word is Bhagavān, which means one who possesses all opulences and fortunes.

Now that we have established that material life is full of ups and downs and that our real mission in life is to associate with God, does this mean we will achieve perfection? Simply knowing the temporary nature of this world and the ultimate objective in life is not enough. We need these facts reinforced from time to time. We need to consult real-life examples of these principles in action. We also need examples of great personalities who adhered to these principles and made their lives perfect. To help us in our pursuit of religious life, the Supreme Lord Himself personally advents on earth from time to time. One such appearance took place thousands of years ago in Ayodhyā, India. The great Vedic texts such as the Mahābhārata and Śrīmad Bhāgavatam tell us that God has unlimited forms, ananta-rūpam. He also has unlimited incarnations that appear on earth, meaning there are too many forms of Godhead to count. However, there is still a list provided of the primary incarnations, or avatāras. Lord Rāma, the handsome prince of Ayodhyā, is considered one of these primary avatāras.

Lord Rāma's life was full of so many ups and downs that His primary pastimes were recorded in a wonderful poem known as the Rāmāyaṇa, authored by Maharṣi Vālmīki. The sage is considered the author of the book, but that doesn't accurately describe his role. The Rāmāyaṇa contains details of historical events, so it wasn't as if Vālmīki just made everything up. Rather, he took the most notable events and related them together in his poem. One of the more memorable events of Lord Rāma's life was His time spent in the forests of India. Banished in exile by His father, Mahārāja Daśaratha, Rāma roamed the forests for fourteen years with His wife, Sītā Devī, and younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa. On one occasion, Sītā was kidnapped by the demon Rāvaṇa while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were not with her.

In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is trying to calm his elder brother, who is quite grief-stricken over the kidnap of His wife. Rāma was so upset that He was ready to destroy the whole world, something He was more than capable of doing. Playing the part of a kṣatriya warrior, Rāma was the greatest of archers. The arrows shot from His bow were equivalent to today's nuclear weapons in strength. He easily could have destroyed the whole world simply by shooting a few arrows. Lakṣmaṇa advised Rāma against such action. He wanted to get the point across that good and bad things come on their own, and that one should always remain on the path of dharma at all times.

To get his point across, Lakṣmaṇa referenced a famous incident regarding King Yayāti. The great Vedic texts give us the lineage, or vaṁśas, of the prominent families that existed at the beginning of creation. Each one of these dynasties had a famous king who established the family's reputation. King Yayāti was one such king who was so pious and well-respected that he ascended to the heavenly planets after death. Among most followers of the Christian faith, the belief is that you either go to heaven or hell after death, depending on how you behaved during your lifetime. The Vedas also agree with this conclusion, except they give us more detail as to what actually makes up heaven and hell.

Note: In the 21st verse of the 9th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa states that those who ascend to Indra's heaven through ritualistic Vedic practices eventually fall back down to the mortal planets when the merits from their deeds expire. In this way, by following Vedic principles, such worshipers only achieve temporary happiness, for they must constantly go through birth and death.

Heaven and hell are both considered part of the material world, or God's inferior energy. This means that both realms are subject to creation and destruction. Therefore we can conclude that anyone who resides there must have to leave at some point. The Vedas tell us that our time spent in heaven is commensurate with the merits accumulated from our pious activities. This means that ascending to material heaven does not represent perfection in life. Once we reach there, we are more than susceptible to falling back down to earth. This was the case with Yayāti. He made a transgression while residing in heaven and was thus forced to come back to earth. His example is often quoted when describing the reality of reincarnation and the temporary nature of happiness and distress.

What we learn from this is that the performance of pious deeds does not represent the pinnacle of devotional practice. Dharma helps us stay on the righteous path, but our pious activities must lead to attachment to God. If we don't develop that attachment, we can't achieve true perfection. Lord Rāma was God Himself, so He had no need for self-realization, but to play the part of a human being, He engaged in lamentation from time to time. What's so wonderful about this incident is that since it describes a conversation between God and His brother, it is completely spiritual in nature. Simply by hearing it, we are associating with the spiritual energy. Eventually Rāma would heed Lakṣmaṇa's advice and compose Himself. He would go on to rescue Sītā and defeat Rāvaṇa in battle. Though nothing in the material world lasts forever, if we dedicate ourselves to bhāgavata-dharma, we can enjoy eternal felicity in the imperishable spiritual sky with the Supreme Lord.

# Chapter 6 - Tolerance

"Vasiṣṭha, who is a mahārṣi and our father's priest, begot one hundred sons in one day, only to see them slain again in one day." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.9)

Any parent who has ever lost a child will tell you that the resulting pain never goes away. As soon as a child is born to a parent, an immediate loving bond is formed. The birth of a new child is a time of great joy, yet at the same time, the worrying commences immediately. "What if something happens to my child? They are so small and helpless. What if I fail to protect them? I don't think I'd be able to live if anything happened to them." The famous sage Vasiṣṭha had to suffer through this very nightmare, the loss of his one hundred sons in an instant. From his handling of the situation, we can take away a great lesson on tolerance and perseverance.

Vasiṣṭha is one of the most celebrated sages of the Vedic tradition. The Vedas are the ancient scriptures of India, and as such, they gave us a detailed lineage of the first several generations of mankind. Lord Brahmā, the self-create, is considered the first living entity, born out of the lotus-like navel of Lord Viṣṇu. Generally we refer to the Supreme Lord as God, but the Vedas try to be more specific in describing Him. In Vedic terminology, God is known as Bhagavān, Viṣṇu, or Lord Kṛṣṇa. These names more accurately describe His names, forms, and attributes. God is also known as the Supreme Godhead; a term which speaks to His infinite nature. God can take unlimited forms, ananta-rūpam, with His personal expansions being equal in potency to His original form. According to Vedic information, God's original form is that of Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa, and Lord Viṣṇu is His primary expansion who handles all matters of creation.

Lord Brahmā takes birth from Lord Viṣṇu, and is thus put in charge of populating the innumerable planets in the universe. Many of the first living entities on earth were great sages, with Vasiṣṭha being one of them. To handle governance on earth, Lord Brahmā created the kṣatriya, or warrior, race. There were two famous royal dynasties started at the time of creation: one coming from the sun-god and the other coming from the moon-god. Vasiṣṭha was put in charge of the solar dynasty. He was the family priest for several generations of Ikṣvāku kings, including Lord Rāma, one of Kṛṣṇa's most celebrated incarnations to appear on earth.

Like most sages of his time, Vasiṣṭha established a hermitage where he would perform all his priestly duties. On one occasion, the son of King Gādhi, Viśvāmitra, visited Vasiṣṭha. At the time, Viśvāmitra was a kṣatriya king, very powerful and also quite pious. Vasiṣṭha was pleased to welcome the king, and he offered him the topmost hospitality. After being entertained to his satisfaction, Viśvāmitra wanted to leave, but Vasiṣṭha begged him to stay a little longer. After finally acquiescing, Viśvāmitra was treated to the highest class food which was offered by Vasiṣṭha's cow named Śabala. Vasiṣṭha loved Śabala, for the cow would supply all his needs. Viśvāmitra immediately developed an attachment to the cow and wanted to have it for himself. He offered Vasiṣṭha all kinds of gold and other wealth, but Vasiṣṭha refused to part with his cow. Śabala supplied all of his needs, especially those relating to the performance of religious sacrifices. This is all that Vasiṣṭha really cared about, for as a pious brāhmaṇa, he had no need for great wealth. There was nothing that Viśvāmitra could offer him that would change his mind.

Viśvāmitra wasn't taking "no" for an answer. He took Śabala by force and began to leave. The cow immediately lamented and wondered why Vasiṣṭha wasn't doing anything to fight back. After being petitioned by the cow, Vasiṣṭha replied that he was just a brāhmaṇa and didn't have the strength to fight off a great a king as Viśvāmitra. To help her master, Śabala agreed to supply whatever Vasiṣṭha needed to fight off the king. Thus a great fight ensued with Vasiṣṭha eventually emerging victorious due to Śabala's help.

Viśvāmitra was quite ashamed at this defeat, so he decided to convert to a brāhmaṇa. Performing great austerities, Lord Brahmā eventually became pleased and acknowledged him as a rājarṣi, or a saintly king. This didn't really satisfy Viśvāmitra since he didn't want to be a king at all anymore. Regardless, he remained firm on the path of asceticism and was eventually recognized as a great sage by others. Some time later on, a king happened to insult one of Vasiṣṭha's sons and then subsequently be cursed by him. Viśvāmitra, seeing an opportunity, then cast another spell on the same king by having a Rākṣasa invade his body. Thus the king, cursed in many different ways, immediately ate up all of Vasiṣṭha's sons. Though Viśvāmitra had his revenge and Vasiṣṭha was greatly aggrieved, later on the king was released from his curse by Vasiṣṭha, who held no grudge. Vasiṣṭha tolerated the horrible calamity of his sons dying, for that is the nature of a brāhmaṇa.

Lakṣmaṇa reminded his elder brother, Lord Rāma, of this incident during a particularly troubling time in the Lord's life. As part of His pastimes, Rāma resided in the forests of India for fourteen years alongside His wife, Sītā Devī, and Lakṣmaṇa. It may seem strange that a prince would roam the forests for that long, but this was all due to a request made by Rāma's father, King Daśaratha, and Kaikeyī, Rāma's step-mother. The exile didn't really dispirit Rāma, for He had no attachment to anything, including royal life. In addition, Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa were with Him, so who wouldn't be happy being in their company all the time?

Yet on one occasion, Sītā was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. This kidnapping took place while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were away from the group's hermitage. Upon returning, they saw that Sītā was gone. Immediately Rāma gave way to lamentation and anger. He was ready to kill everyone in the world and destroy the entire planet in retaliation. Lakṣmaṇa then offered some sound words of advice to pacify his beloved brother. The above referenced statement was part of Lakṣmaṇa's advice.

The reference to Vasiṣṭha is quite noteworthy because the sage was the spiritual master for both Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa in their youth. Essentially, Lakṣmaṇa's point is that even their great guru had to suffer through hardships. In one sense, losing a child is worse than losing a spouse because the child is viewed as being completely helpless. Lakṣmaṇa was saying that if their spiritual master was able to cope with such a horrific incident, that they, being his disciples, should also be as tolerant. The highest honor a disciple can pay to their spiritual master is to follow their instructions and learn from their example. Vasiṣṭha is described as a mahārṣi and family priest in this verse, which reinforces the point that even the most exalted of personalities are forced to suffer through tragedies every now and then.

Lord Rāma eventually followed Lakṣmaṇa's advice and composed Himself. The two brothers proved themselves to be first-class disciples by not only listening to the direct instructions given by their guru, but also by learning from the guru's personal experiences. This is the mercy of the spiritual master. They go through so many trials and tribulations not only for their own benefit, but also to help future generations learn from their experiences. A good spiritual master is one who tries to lead by example. Such a person is known as an acharya.

The lesson here is that we all must be tolerant of the incessantly flowing ups and downs that life throws our way. Lord Rāma was God Himself, so He was in no need of anyone's counsel. Yet just to set a good example and to glorify His great devotees, He pretended to go through so many hardships. Aside from the loss of a child, one would be hard pressed to think of anything worse happening to a person than having their spouse kidnapped and taken into custody by a demon. Sītā Devī's suffering was probably worse than Rāma's, for she had to remain inside a garden where she was harassed by Rākṣasīs for months. She was even given the ultimatum that if she didn't agree to become Rāvaṇa's wife after a set time, she would be killed.

The hardships endured by Sītā, Rāma, and Lakṣmaṇa make our day-to-day problems seem miniscule. This is by design, for God is the original spiritual master, the guru for the whole world. He not only teaches through the written words found in the Bhagavad-gītā, Rāmāyaṇa, and Purāṇas, but also by example. Lord Rāma was extremely tolerant, as was Lakṣmaṇa. Sītā Devī was able to survive the toughest of situations simply by keeping her mind fixed on the lotus feet of her dear husband.

For the living entities suffering through the toils of material life, a great deal can be learned from Sītā, Rāma, and Lakṣmaṇa. Material fortunes will come and go, but we should learn to tolerate them. This life is not meant for material pleasures, but rather for the cultivation of spiritual knowledge. If we are perfectly God conscious at the time of death, we immediately return to the spiritual world where we never have to worry about suffering again. The greatest suffering of all is the repetition of birth and death. Only through commitment to devotional service can we find the cure to this disease. Through tolerance and forbearance, we should keep our minds fixed on the righteous path, as did all the great Vaiṣṇava leaders of the past. Following in their footsteps, we too can successfully put a stop to the spinning wheel of material suffering.

# Chapter 7 - As Forgiving As The Earth

"O Lord of Kośala, even the Earth, who is the mother of the world and respected by everyone, suffers distress in the form of earthquakes." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.10)

The earth is so kind and sweet to us, even though we may not realize it. Withstanding all the punishment given to her, Mother Earth continues to supply the necessities of life which allow us to have a peaceful and happy existence. Mother Earth never breaks, and following her example, we living entities should be equally as resilient in our pursuit of spiritual perfection. The aim of human life is to become purely God conscious, and reaching that end requires a steady mind, one that is willing to survive through adversity. For those of us who take to spiritual life, there will be many hurdles thrown in our way and many people who will offend us, but we must be as forgiving as the earth. Obstacles will come and people will try to impede our progress, but we must always remain on the virtuous path. This was the example set by Lord Rāma, an incarnation of God, many thousands of years ago.

Among followers of the Vedic tradition, the earth is very important. More than just one of the five gross material elements, earth, in the form of a planet, provides for all of our necessities. We may not realize this in the beginning stages of our lives, for we take birth and immediately begin to associate with matter. It is not until we become a little wiser that we start to question why matter exists and where it comes from. Who is controlling all of this matter that is moving around in such a complicated way that our very lives depend on it? The Vedas give us the answers to these questions. They tell us that God is the original creator of everything, meaning that He is the source of earth. More specifically, He has deputed a presiding deity for the earth whose name is Bhūmi Devī.

This may strike some as pantheism or a kind of mentally concocted personification, but it is actually not so. God is so powerful that He can create millions of heavenly bodies known as planets which remain in the same orbit at all times. These gigantic land masses all float in outer space on their own, without any man-made intervention. If God is capable of creating on this magnitude, why shouldn't He be able to put the earth in the charge of a living entity? "But where is this Mother Earth? How come we can't see her?" She is there right in front of us, but we don't have the proper vision to see her. This is because, by default, we think of earthly elements as belonging to us. "This is my land, this is my property, these are my possessions, etc."

We certainly have a rightful claim to the property that we peaceably and voluntarily acquire, but who owned the land before us? "Well, the person who I bought the land from." But who was the owner before them? After all, we know that man doesn't live for very long in this age; at most maybe one hundred years. If we ascend the chain of land owners, we'll see that the original proprietor of everything is God. This makes sense because only He is capable of creating on such a grand scale.

Mother Earth is a presiding deity who is kind enough to provide for all of our necessities. The food that grows from the ground, the wonderful rivers, parks, mountains, plains, etc., are all blessings from her. She bestows these gifts so that we can live peacefully and happily. These benedictions are not meant to increase our sense gratification, but rather, to provide for our necessities. The motto of life given to us by the Vedas is "simple living, high thinking". If we analyze these two terms, we'll see that they are not mutually exclusive. Simple living by itself is certainly nice, but what do we do with all the free time we get as a result of our simple lifestyle? We must start to think on a higher level. Thinking requires effort, and most importantly, time. Time is precious, for once a moment is lost, it can never be recovered. For businesses, there are all sorts of disaster recovery plans in place which insure everything from computer records to heavy machinery. But there is no insurance plan that can recover our lost time. Time cannot be backed up or archived. Once it leaves us, it never comes back.

To this end, the Vedas advise us to make the best use of our precious time. For this to occur, we must live a simple life. This means that we should perform just enough work so that the demands of food, clothing, and shelter can be met to our satisfaction. If we look around today, however, we see that most everyone is going past the bare necessities and searching for increased sense gratification. This doesn't seem bad on the surface, for who wouldn't want to live more comfortably by having a nice car, a big house, and all the latest tech gadgets? Yet we see that the senses are never satisfied in this pursuit. It is the nature of the human mind to hanker and lament. We hanker after something new or expensive, and after we get it, we start to lament the fact that it fails to provide us the happiness that we were expecting. Instead of stopping our pursuit for sense gratification, we begin to hanker again for an even bigger and more expensive new toy.

Through these pursuits, our mental clarity suffers and our time is wasted. We are not the only victims of this busy lifestyle. Mother Earth must bear the burden of our chase for illusory happiness. With every new invention comes new demands put on the earth. For example, the advent of the automobile brought great potential for happiness for society at large. People could now travel long distances in a short amount of time. No longer was geography a constraint on business, travel, or leisure. Yet in order to fuel these automobiles, gasoline is required. This gasoline comes from refining petroleum which is dug out of the earth.

Again, on the surface this doesn't seem bad. After all, we have to chop down trees to get paper and also to build our houses. We have to till fields in order to grow crops. What's so harmful about a little oil drilling? As we can see from the world's economic climate today, oil has become a huge commodity. People are looking for more and more places to drill for oil. There doesn't appear to be any end in sight to the oil supply, but this hasn't stopped people from finding new places to drill. With the demands of the modern economy, oil has become a necessity, just like water and food. If we were to run out of oil today, virtually every person in the world would be negatively affected.

So we see that one small invention turned out to give us many new headaches, attachments, and dependencies. To make matters worse, Mother Earth has had to suffer greatly. In addition to dealing with the chopping of trees and the tilling of fields, she must now put up with regular drilling and mining. Yet through it all, she remains firm and stout. She even bears the burden of natural disasters such as earthquakes, hurricanes, and tornadoes. Though many people today believe that mankind is destroying the earth, she remains firm and strong and continues to provide for our needs. Her oceans recently swallowed up the large portion of an oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico which was initially deemed to be a catastrophe. She is a lot more forgiving and strong than we give her credit for. Mother Earth always remains true to her mission of supporting mankind. She always remains on the virtuous path.

We living entities, in the course of carrying out our prescribed duties, can take a great lesson from Mother Earth. This was the point stressed by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. God is so kind that He not only deputes elevated living entities such as the demigods to manage the material affairs, but He also personally makes appearances in the world from time to time to give pleasure to His devotees and to teach future generations about dharma. The word "religion" connotes a type of faith or belief system. The Vedas have no equivalent word for this because our relationship with God is not something that changes. The best match for religion in Vedic terminology is dharma, which means something that defines the essence of a living entity. The essence of our existence is our relationship with God as His eternal, loving servant. This essence, or dharma, has always existed in the past, continues to exist today, and will remain unchanged in the future. Therefore this dharma is sanātana, or eternal.

By coming into contact with the material world, the living entities become enveloped in a cloud of nescience which causes them to forget about dharma. To reawaken the dormant God consciousness of the living entity, God sends His personal representative, the spiritual master. On special occasions, He personally comes to earth in the form of a living entity and teaches everyone by His example. One of God's most famous appearances on earth took place many thousands of years ago in Ayodhyā, India. The King of Ayodhyā at the time, Mahārāja Daśaratha, desperately wanted a son to pass his kingdom down to. God obliged and took birth as his eldest son named Rāma. Each incarnation, or avatāra, of God has specific characteristics and personality traits. Lord Rāma's signature characteristic was His devotion to religiosity. Rāma means one who gives pleasure to others, and this was certainly the case with the Lord. There existed no sin in Him, nor did He ever waver from the virtuous path.

Lord Rāma also suffered great hardships during His time on earth. God actually can never suffer, but by assuming the guise of a fallible human being, Lord Rāma pretended to suffer and lament on many occasions. One time, His beautiful and chaste wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped in the forest while Rāma was away chasing a deer. Upon returning to His hermitage, He saw that Sītā was gone and He immediately gave way to lamentation. Being the greatest kṣatriya warrior of His time, Rāma was ready to destroy the whole world with His bow and arrow. He couldn't stand to be without Sītā.

Luckily for Rāma, His younger brother Lakṣmaṇa was by His side. One would be hard pressed to find any brother in history that compares to Lakṣmaṇa in kindness, intelligence, courage, chivalry, and dedication. Completely pious in his own right, Lakṣmaṇa abandoned all the mundane rules of morality in favor of serving Rāma. This is the highest level of devotion to God, for it is spontaneous and bereft of any personal motive. Lakṣmaṇa saw that his brother was distraught, so he decided to impart some helpful words of wisdom.

In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is reminding Rāma that even the earth has to deal with so many hardships in life, and that she never swerves from the virtuous path. Good and bad things will happen to us along the way, but we should never divert ourselves from the path of dharma. We should learn to tolerate all hardships and be as forgiving as the earth. Lord Rāma very much appreciated these words from Lakṣmaṇa. He would heed his advice and subsequently resume His search for His wife. Rāma would eventually rescue Sītā from the clutches of the Rākṣasa demon, Rāvaṇa.

Lord Rāma's mission in life was to always abide by dharma, regardless of what effect it had on His personal situation. We living entities must also always remain on the virtuous path. The highest dharma of all is bhāgavata-dharma, or devotional service. This is the discipline whereby we dovetail all of our activities with service to God. Just as attending church provides peace and comfort to many, devotional service aims to provide the same level of comfort at all times. If religion is so nice, why not be religious all the time?

For those who sincerely take up bhāgavata-dharma, there are sure to be many hurdles along the way. Religious life is not easy by any means, especially considering how accustomed we are to material life. The virtuous path is filled with thorns, and the worst part is that the more we take to religious life, the more we enjoy it. This is certainly a good thing, but at the same time, we begin to loathe all other kinds of activities. This makes it difficult to cope with day-to-day affairs, for material activity causes us to feel separation pains from God. To help us get through the hard times, we should always remember Lord Rāma's example and also the teachings of Lakṣmaṇa. The earth is God's faithful servant, well-respected by all, and yet she even meets with misery from time to time. If we keep our minds fixed on the most important task at hand, that of returning back to God's spiritual realm after this life, then we'll be able to withstand all of the storms and shakeups that life throws our way.

# Chapter 8 - Sticks and Stones

"Even the mighty sun and moon, who are the eyes of the world, the epitomes of virtue and duty, and in whom the whole world is situated, have to suffer through eclipses." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.11)

It is the natural assumption that if we seriously take up spiritual life, other people will be kinder to us. We will get respect and praise from others since we are adhering to a pious way of life. In reality, however, just the opposite situation is seen. Those who are sincerely devoted to Kṛṣṇa, or God, often have to deal with many hardships not seen before. Family and friends turn into enemies, and others take to ridiculing and tormenting. Just because we are virtuous, it doesn't mean that we are immune to bad fortune in the material sense. Spiritual life is meant for advancing the plight of the spirit soul inside of us, therefore our relationship with matter will naturally suffer as a result. The key is to remain steadfast in our devotion; otherwise we can easily fall off the virtuous path.

We take to spiritual life because we feel that it will make us happy, that it will provide us some reward that we are currently lacking. It is said that one can never become a serious devotee of God unless and until they become disgusted with material life. This seems a little extreme on the surface, for why should we be disgusted with going about our daily lives? The disgust comes through the repetitious cycle of hankering and lamenting. We work hard for something, we get the rewards of our work, and then we enjoy. Yet since this enjoyment is short-lived, we are left to repeat the cycle all over again. As the rewards keep coming to us, we derive less and less enjoyment from them.

Faced with this situation, we have one of two options. We can either realize that this sort of material pursuit represents an endless pit of misery, a situation where we are chewing the chewed, or we can start to work even harder in hopes of gaining even greater rewards. Sadly, many of us choose the latter option. Drug addicts are a great example of this. A person may start out just having a few beers every now and then to relax. Pretty soon, they take to drinking every day since one or two beers is not enough. Still not satisfied, a person can take to hard liquor, or even other types of drugs. In the end we see that this search leads to more and more misery.

Those bewildered spirit souls who realize that material sense gratification has its limits have a real opportunity at achieving the true aim of life, that of becoming purely God conscious. The Vedas tell us that the spirit soul inside of us is meant to be in constant association with Lord Kṛṣṇa, or God. Matter is the opposite of spirit, an inferior energy. If we associate with an inferior energy, we can never derive true happiness. Simply engaging in eating, sleeping, mating, and defending is not enough, for these activities give pleasure to the animal species. Human life is meant for higher thinking, the performance of activities based on intelligence guided by experience.

Though there are many forms of religion, the highest religious discipline is known as bhāgavata-dharma, or devotional service. Those who are disenchanted with material pursuits have several avenues they can go down. They can try meditating and performing yoga exercises. They can also try reading about the differences between matter and spirit, thereby slowly reaching the angle of vision where they see everything as being part of one complete energy. The best option, however, is to take to serving the creator of everything, both living and nonliving. That creator is God, who can be more accurately described as the Supreme Personality of Godhead. God is a person in the sense that He is a controlling spirit, or puruṣa. When we think of a person, we think of a fallible living entity with arms, legs, and a face. God is similar to a person in that He has an eternally existing transcendental form, but unlike the living entities, He has no defects. God does not possess any limiting features, so He is capable of doing everything with any part of His transcendental body. This points to God's absolute nature.

God's original form is that of Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa. This is the information that we get from the Vedas, which include volumes upon volumes of Sanskrit verses which have no date of origin. Religion in the Vedic tradition is known as sanātana-dharma, or the eternal occupation of man. So naturally when someone takes up bhāgavata-dharma, or dharma aimed at serving Bhagavān [God], they expect to see some benefits. For those who regularly chant, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare", and abstain from the most egregious sinful activities, immediate benefits are most certainly seen. Peace of mind, tranquility, honesty, thoughtfulness, etc., are some of the virtuous qualities that a person acquires through the practice of devotional service. But does dedicating our lives to God mean that we will never suffer hardships again?

In reality, our most difficult times lay ahead of us once we take up devotional service. Life becomes more difficult in a material sense due to the fact that material nature itself does not go away. Even though we are engaged in spiritual activities, we must still associate with matter while we are on this earth. Matter is an inferior energy, so it is incapable of providing happiness, for it is temporary and a cause of misery. The Vedas tell us that material nature is governed by an energy known as māyā. Māyā is Kṛṣṇa's faithful servant; she tries to bewilder the living entities into believing they will be happy doing anything except connecting with Kṛṣṇa. This may seem like Kṛṣṇa is punishing us, but this is all part of His mercy. We living entities wanted to pretend to be just like God, thus the material world was created. For those spirit souls who want to forget Kṛṣṇa, the Lord provides every opportunity to do so.

Taking up spiritual life means abandoning our association with māyā. This is easier said than done, however. Māyā will severely test us in our spiritual pursuits, for Kṛṣṇa wants to see just how sincere we are in our devotion. Moreover, spiritual life is not meant to bring any type of material happiness. This includes fame, fortune, and adoration from others. In fact, the more pious we become, the more liable we are to receive ridicule and scorn from others. We see evidence of this fact everywhere. People who thank God in public or even make reference to religion are often scolded and criticized. "How dare he mention God like that all the time? Who does he think he is? How dare God be on his side and not mine?"

Since we spirit souls are put on earth due to our affinity for material life, we end up being worshipers of matter by default. Therefore it stands to reason that the people who are successful in a material sense will get all the praise and adoration. We see that this is indeed the case, for the newspapers and television newscasts are all focused on the lives of celebrities and great politicians. It is a type of idol worship, with the fawning press wishing that they too could possess great wealth and fame. As a result of this desire, they end up elevating people of shady character to hero status. When these celebrities fall down from the virtuous path, the same media takes to condemnation. The situation with the famous golfer, Tiger Woods, was a great example of this. Woods was loved and adored by millions for his tremendous golf achievements and philanthropic activities. Yet as soon as his marriage infidelity was revealed, the same media took to depicting him as the greatest of villains, someone who fooled them.

For those treading the righteous path of devotional service, there will certainly be many obstacles placed in their way, but they must remain perseverant at all times. If a material discomfort causes us to give up on spiritual life, then how dedicated were we really? If we truly love somebody, wouldn't we want to move heaven and earth to make them happy? Religious life is not meant for acquiring praise and adoration from others. The greatest devotees in history have been those who were extremely humble and remained steadfast in their devotion, regardless of praise or ridicule. The more pious we become, the more the demons will attack us. This was precisely the case with Lord Rāma, an incarnation of Kṛṣṇa, many thousands of years ago.

The sweet Lord appeared on earth during the Tretā Yuga, a time when piety was still quite high in society. Appearing in the family of a famous royal dynasty, Rāma was wholly dedicated to dharma throughout His life. He wanted to set the perfect example for everyone to follow. To illustrate the perseverance and dedication required in adhering to dharma, the Lord voluntarily suffered through many personal hardships. His kingdom was taken away from Him, as was His home and way of life. Forced to roam the forests of Bhāratavarṣa as a recluse, Rāma never deviated from the righteous path, even though He had many opportunities to do so.

Since He was playing the role of a human being, Rāma gave way to lamentation and sorrow on a select few occasions. One time, His lovely wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped while residing in the forest. Rāma and His younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa, were not with Sītā when she was forcibly taken by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Upon returning to the cottage, Rāma could not find Sītā. After searching for a while and not finding her, Rāma gave way to anger and lamentation. Strongly attached to His chaste wife, Rāma was ready to destroy the whole world with His bow and arrow as retaliation.

To calm his brother down, Lakṣmaṇa interjected with some sound words of advice. He told Rāma that it is the nature of this world for men to suffer through calamity every now and then. Even the most virtuous and highly respected people have to suffer loss every now and then. In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa is giving the example of the sun and the moon. In the Vedic tradition, the sun and the moon are extremely important and highly respected. All the daily religious functions revolve around the position of the sun. The monthly religious traditions are all based on the lunar cycle as well, as is the Vedic calendar. Certain phases of the moon are considered auspicious, while others are not.

As wonderful as the sun and the moon are, we see that their splendor is diminished during an eclipse. Another celestial body comes in the way and takes away the sun or the moon from everyone's vision. This metaphor given by Lakṣmaṇa is a beautiful one, for it shows the temporary nature of both good and bad fortune. Pure devotees are always splendorous on the inside, for they are always connecting with God. In a material sense, that splendor will sometimes be covered up by bad fortune or ridicule from others. The intelligent realize that bad fortune comes and goes and that these things should not cause them to deviate from the path of righteousness.

Lord Rāma greatly appreciated Lakṣmaṇa's advice. He would regain His senses and continue His quest to find Sītā. Eventually the Lord would rescue her after killing Rāvaṇa in a great battle. The demons always hated Rāma, but that didn't bother Him one bit. His duty in life was to impress His friends, family, and well-wishers, for they were all great devotees of God.

By the same token, our goal in life should be to impress God and His representatives. Let others ridicule and mock us, for that will never deter us in our mission of spreading Kṛṣṇa's glories to everyone. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Öhākura, a great Vaiṣṇava saint, peacefully spread God consciousness throughout India in the early 20th century. Yet many people hated him, and on one occasion, they threw rocks and large stones at his saṅkīrtana party. These attacks never deterred Bhaktisiddhānta; therefore he acquired the nickname of the siṁha-guru, or the lion-like spiritual master.

The lesson here is that we should follow Lakṣmaṇa's advice and Lord Rāma's example by staying committed to the path of devotional service. We should regularly hear, chant, and talk about Kṛṣṇa. Sticks and stones may break our bones, but the words and actions of others will never deter us from loving God.

# Chapter 9 - Until It Sleeps

"O best among men, what to speak of demigods and even great beings [planets] - every living entity who accepts a material body becomes subject to the influence of destiny." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.12)

The forces of the divine affect every single living entity. There is not a mortal being among us who is immune from destiny's influence. It is not that some people are exempt from nature's laws due to their size, stature, or physical strength. Destiny comes from God, thus its influence is divine. Destiny's most powerful instrument for change is time. As the saying goes, "time heals all wounds", time also takes away all of our acquired material possessions and relationships. Time causes everyone to dwindle, diminish, and suffer loss. The wise, however, are not bewildered by the influence of time, for they understand the true mission of life.

To understand the influence of time, we need a frame of reference; something that will show us how changes occur. For the purposes of this discussion, we can study the human body. As we all know, the human body is quite frail. However strong a person may be, disease can attack them at any moment. The Vedas summarize all miseries into three categories, with one of them being the miseries brought on by our own mind and body. The disease of cancer is a great example of this. Leukemia, lymphoma, breast cancer, etc. are all diseases of the body that develop within. Once cancer cells gather steam, they start to attack the body and, over time, this eventually leads to death. No one knows for sure how or why people get cancer, but we do know its effects. Though much research has been done to fight it, cancer remains one of the greatest killers of man.

These kinds of diseases show us the frail nature of the body. Starting from when we are born, we develop a great attachment to our body. This is quite natural, for we have to live with ourselves at all moments. We are born into ignorance, so we don't know anything else beyond what we experience in the current life. Through acquired intelligence, however, we can see that the body is constantly changing. In the early years, our growth is quite rapid. Some parents like to measure their children's height periodically just to see how fast they are growing. Eventually the growth stops and we reach the stage of adulthood. This doesn't mean the body stops changing though. Our face starts to change, wrinkles develop, we have less energy, etc. Eventually we become so old and crippled that we can't even walk on our own. These changes are all due to the influence of time, which is constantly attacking the frail material body.

Knowing these facts, the wise realize that it is not good to develop an attachment to the body. If something is capable of killing us from within, why would we want to develop an attachment to it? Looking at the body as a giant cancer cell, we can see that we are forced to live in a death trap as soon as we take birth. If we shouldn't overly concern ourselves with the demands of the body, what should we shift our focus to? What should be the prime objective of our work? The Vedas tell us that beyond this perishable material world is a place free of anxieties and doubts. Currently we all live with doubts because we know the temporary nature of things. Even if we have a comfortable life right now, we know that the situation can change in an instant. Besides acquiring diseases like cancer, other types of miseries can afflict us in the form of external events such as earthquakes, natural disasters, and also the actions of other living entities.

The spiritual world is the only place that is free of anxieties. Therefore it is known as Vaikuṇṭha. On the Vaikuṇṭha planets, and the planets of Kṛṣṇaloka above them, reside God and His innumerable internal expansions. In this realm, time does not exist; therefore there is no loss or diminution of any kind. Everyone who resides in the spiritual world possesses a spiritual body which is immune from the effects of material nature. We can think of it as a giant insulated bubble. Spirit can never be contaminated by matter; therefore anything spiritual is absolute, eternal, and always full of knowledge.

Penetrating the bubble of the spiritual world is not easy though. We can't get there by amassing wealth, developing a rocket ship, or even through taking to dry renunciation. The only way to get to the personal spiritual realm is to associate with its leader: God. Lord Kṛṣṇa, or God, is the only person who is always imperishable and unchanging. He is described as aja, unborn, and anādi, having no beginning. If we associate with our body, which is composed of the fallible material elements, we are destined to suffer heartache, pain, and loss. On the other hand, if we associate with the person who is above the influence of time, we are guaranteed to have an eternal, blissful life after our current one expires.

Those who aren't religiously inclined may not like the idea of having to associate with God. "Why should I focus my time on worshiping some imaginary person? How do I even know that God exists?" In reality, people are already worshipping a "God". Since we know how fallible mankind is, and how frail the human body is, we have a tendency to adore and idolize elevated living beings. Celebrities, athletes, politicians, scientists, and scholars are all lauded and praised by the general public. They acquire this fame due to their extraordinary abilities in various material endeavors. Movie stars get to play roles where they are depicted as brave heroes who attract the most beautiful women. Star athletes can hit a baseball thrown at them at 100 miles per hour, run a marathon, or hit a golf ball farther and more consistently than anyone else. Politicians can mesmerize throngs of supporters and implement policies that credit them with saving nations. Scientists use their brain power to develop new life-prolonging medicines. They also come up with wonderful theories that describe the laws of nature. Great scholars postulate on the meaning of life and develop philosophies on how one should go about their daily lives.

Due to their extraordinary abilities, these people are undoubtedly worthy of the praise and accolades they receive, but we see that their achievements all have one thing in common: they all relate to enhancing the human experience as it pertains to the body. As mentioned before, the body is frail and lives completely under the influence of time. No amount of material wealth, comforts, or physical achievements can make the body immune from the effects of time. Not a single one of the great personalities of the past was able to stop the death process. No matter their size or stature, none of them could live forever. By giving so much attention to these elevated living entities, we are essentially viewing them as God. This is a faulty viewpoint because God Himself can never die, nor can He suffer any diminution.

Just as the Vaikuṇṭha planets are free from anxieties and doubts, the only discipline in life which is free from doubts is that path which leads us to the Vaikuṇṭha planets. That discipline is known as dharma, or religiosity. Dharma means that which always exists with something, a defining quality. For the living entities, that which defines us is our relation to God. Though our bodies are subject to destruction, our souls are not. The soul is what identifies us; it is the only thing that remains at the time of death.

Note: In the 20th verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that the soul never dies or takes birth. It never came into being nor will it cease to exist in the future. The soul is permanent, eternal, and the oldest entity. The soul does not die when the body is killed.

Though the soul is imperishable, it is nevertheless subject to the influences of material nature. Nature, through the influence of time, affects the body by causing it to diminish. Nature affects the soul by causing it to repeatedly take birth in a material body. Thus the cycle of birth and death repeats, while the soul itself remains uncontaminated. There is a superior soul, however, which is not subject to the influence of nature. This soul belongs to God, who is also known as mahā-puruṣa, or the most exalted person.

The existence of our soul, the jīvātmā, is defined by its relationship with the supreme soul, Paramātmā. This relationship is quite beautiful, for it involves reciprocal love. In a nutshell, we are meant to be lovers of God. This shouldn't be mistaken as love of the mundane variety. Spiritual love is known as Kṛṣṇa-prema, and it is completely uncontaminated. Dharma means to abide by a set of regulative principles which keeps our soul always in contact with God.

Dharma can take many forms due to the fact that living entities possess different qualities and have tendencies to perform different work. Therefore there is a specific term, bhāgavata-dharma, which describes the highest religious system. Bhāgavata refers to Bhagavān, or God. Bhagavān means one who possesses all opulences, and this is most certainly an appropriate way to describe God. If we dovetail all our activities with service to Bhagavān, we are adhering to bhāgavata-dharma. There are many different processes that make up this dharma, but the most effective one for this age is the constant chanting of the holy names of God, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare".

Practicing bhāgavata-dharma is a little tricky since we actually don't give up our material bodies right away. This means that we must simultaneously remain in contact with nature while taking up the sublime mission of devotional service. Though bhāgavata-dharma eventually leads to ascension to the spiritual world, we shouldn't think that our material miseries will come to an end right away. Time still has the same effect on our body, regardless of how we act. The difference with bhāgavata-dharma is that our activities will eventually lead us to direct association with God when our life is over. If we neglect this service, we will be forced to come under time's influence again upon our next birth.

The key to being successful in spiritual life is to not be bewildered by the influence of time and destiny. Good and bad things will surely happen to all of us, but we shouldn't let these temporary gains or setbacks take us off the righteous path. This was the lesson taught by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. Many thousands of years ago, the Supreme Person, mahā-puruṣa, appeared on earth in a spiritual body which resembled that of an ordinary human being. This person was named Rāma, and He played the role of a pious prince who was dedicated to dharma. God knows it will be difficult for us to turn to spiritual life on our own. To help us achieve the ultimate mission of life, the Lord kindly appears on earth from time to time to guide us on the right path.

Lord Rāma performed many glorious activities, the most noteworthy of which are chronicled in the wonderful poem written by Maharṣi Vālmīki known as the Rāmāyaṇa. Lord Rāma appeared as a human being after all, so He had to endure many of the same hardships that we mortal beings suffer through. On one occasion, Rāma's beautiful wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped while the couple was residing in the forest. Rāma's younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa, was also there with Him. After realizing that Sītā was missing, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa began a feverish search for her whereabouts. Rāma eventually lost His composure and gave way to lamentation. He contemplated destroying the whole world as a punishment to those who allowed His wife to be kidnapped.

At this time, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in to counsel his brother. Lakṣmaṇa was Rāma's faithful servant who was so dedicated to his elder brother that he would not allow Him to leave the kingdom of Ayodhyā and roam the forests alone. Lakṣmaṇa always remained by Rāma's side and viewed himself as his brother's keeper. Seeing Rāma distraught, Lakṣmaṇa offered some sound words of advice. The above referenced statement was part of his counsel. We see that Lakṣmaṇa makes reference to the fact that even great celestial beings such as the demigods have to suffer loss. In addition to the demigods, Lakṣmaṇa also mentions other celestial beings who reside on different planets and even those living entities who are themselves in charge of various heavenly bodies. The demigods are elevated living entities who manage the affairs of the material world. Since they are god-like, they are referred to as devas or devatās.

In the Vedic tradition, the demigods are given great respect. These celestial beings are certainly worthy of all the adulation they receive, for no ordinary human being could do what they do. Nevertheless, they are not as powerful as God, thus they too are forced to come under the influence of destiny. Lakṣmaṇa is reminding Rāma of this. He is asking Rāma to endure this hardship of Sītā's kidnap and not allow it to divert Him from the righteous path. Lord Rāma greatly appreciated this advice and would soon regain His senses. The Lord would continue His search and eventually find Sītā. Rāma would kill Sītā's kidnapper, the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa, in a great battle on the island kingdom of Lanka.

We are all in a race against time. Eventually we will die and our body will be destroyed. This same body that is worshiped and praised by others, will one day be buried in the ground or burned to ashes. Therefore we should make the most of the time we have right now by taking up devotional service to God. We should not get hung up on the wins and losses, for they will all come on their own. By remaining on the righteous path, we are sure to meet with success in the end. This body will eventually lay down to a permanent rest. Until that time comes, we should cling to the holy name of God and take it as our life and soul. At the time of death, this name will take us straight to the spiritual world.

# Chapter 10 - King of the Castle

"We have heard that even the demigods, who are headed by Śakra [Indra], are subject to auspiciousness and inauspiciousness. Therefore, O tiger among men, You should not be perturbed." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.13)

This passage is part of a series of statements made by Lakṣmaṇa directed towards His elder brother, Lord Rāma. At the time, Rāma was bewailing the fact that His wife had just been kidnapped. He was so distraught that He contemplated killing every person in the world as revenge. Being the Almighty Lord, He was certainly more than capable of accomplishing this, but Lakṣmaṇa advised Him otherwise. Lakṣmaṇa makes reference to the fact that Indra, the king of heaven, must go through ups and downs in his life, so normal human beings shouldn't overly lament over bad fortune. One should always remain on the virtuous path and persevere through adversity.

The reference to Indra is important because amongst followers of the Vedic tradition, the king of heaven is held in high esteem. In summary, Indra is the god of heaven who uses his thunderbolt as a weapon to fight off demons. The Vedas, which are the oldest scriptures in existence, tell us that there is only one God, but that there are simultaneously thousands of highly elevated living entities known as demigods, who are godlike. Indra is one such godlike personality. He has a long duration of life, tremendous fighting prowess, and is tasked with governing the heavenly kingdom. Thunder, rain, lightning, wind, and other forces of nature are all controlled by various deities, or celestials.

On the surface this may seem like mythology. "These people living in ancient times didn't have much intelligence, so they couldn't understand the concept of science. Simply seeing the rain and thunder, they thought there was some higher authority managing those things. We see now that they were wrong, for there is no heavenly kingdom. Above the clouds is simply the outer atmosphere of the earth. Above that is outer space." This line of thinking is certainly applicable in many situations. After all, if Indra manages rain, thunder, etc, where does he live? We've never seen him, so how can we believe that he exists?

Vedic information states that the demigods mostly reside on the various planets of outer space. These planets, which are part of the material world, are considered to be heavenly, for ordinary human beings can't live there. We see that it takes great effort simply to get into outer space or to land on the moon. Millions of dollars are spent and high-tech space suits and oxygen tanks are required. All these things are required because those planets don't have habitats suitable for human beings. If one wants to live on another planet, they need the proper type of bodily makeup.

What does the term "bodily makeup" mean? How can there be any other body type besides that of a human being? The material world is governed by three modes or qualities: goodness, passion, and ignorance. When these qualities are jumbled together into different proportions, the result is a wide variety of species. A species is simply a type of body which possesses certain inherent characteristics. For instance, the aquatics have a body type suitable for living in the water. If they are taken out of water for any extended period of time, they will die. Similarly, we human beings have a body type suited for residing on land. We could never live underwater because we wouldn't be able to breathe.

In the same way, for one to reside on the different planets in space, they need a suitable body type. This type of body isn't awarded to just anyone. It is considered a great benediction to be born as a demigod, or any other celestial being. Demigods have a higher level of material enjoyment than human beings do. Due to their heightened powers, they can live for a long time and also perform extraordinary feats.

Lord Indra is one such demigod. The Vedas tell us that just as pious people are rewarded with heavenly bodies, the sinful are punished by being forced to accept bodies composed mostly of ignorance. Yet even though the sinful take on horrific bodily shapes, sometimes they can be very strong in fighting. This is the case with the Rākṣasa species. The Vedas have a more generic term for the sinful: asura. The demigods, or saintly people, are known as suras. Since the demons are the opposite of suras, they are known as asuras.

Since the beginning of time, there has been an ongoing war between the suras and the asuras. These battles mostly take place in the heavenly planets. It is Lord Indra's job to lead the army of the suras in these battles. For this reason, Indra is highly respected. When reading Vedic literature, one will find many references to Indra's strength and fame. He is often used as a frame of reference when describing a person's fighting ability or the potency of their weapons.

Lakṣmaṇa was quite aware of Indra's fame and power, so he thought it wise to invoke Śakra's name when discussing the topic of material loss and gain. It must be noted here that Lakṣmaṇa was no ordinary person. Though the demigods are quite powerful, they are not God. There is only one Supreme Lord, and in the Vedic tradition He is known as Kṛṣṇa. Lord Kṛṣṇa is also often worshiped in His two-handed form of Lord Viṣṇu, or Nārāyaṇa. That very same Nārāyaṇa came to earth in the guise of a human being many thousands of years ago. This avatāra was known as Lord Rāma, the handsome and pious prince of Ayodhyā.

Note: In the 7th verse of the 4th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna, a descendant of King Bharata, that whenever and wherever there is a decline in religious practice, and a predominant rise of irreligious behavior, the Lord personally descends to earth.

Why would God come to earth? Why wouldn't He just stay in heaven? At the time, one particular demon had amassed great wealth and power. This Rākṣasa, known by the name of Rāvaṇa, was feared throughout the world. Due to the curse of his father Viśravā, Rāvaṇa was born with ten heads and was thus known as Daśagrīva. It was not until he encountered the great Lord Śiva that Daśagrīva acquired the name of Rāvaṇa. One time the demon decided to harass Lord Śiva. In response, Śiva crushed his hands using a mountain. Since Daśagrīva let out such a terrible scream, Lord Śiva named him Rāvaṇa, which means one who terrorizes others.

The demigods, including Indra, could not defeat Rāvaṇa. This was due to a boon that Rāvaṇa received from Lord Brahmā. There was a catch, however. Rāvaṇa's immunity did not extend to human beings. This meant that if there was a man powerful enough to kill Rāvaṇa, the demon would not stand a chance. Obviously there was no one capable of such a feat except the Supreme Lord Himself. Thus Viṣṇu appeared as Rāma to carry out the mission of killing Rāvaṇa and relieving the suffering of the demigods.

Since He was in the guise of a human being, Rāma pretended to lament when His beautiful wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped in the forest. To console his brother, Lakṣmaṇa offered some sound words of advice. Just as Nārāyaṇa had appeared as Rāma, Ananta Śeṣa Nāga, the serpent-king and servant of Viṣṇu, appeared as Lakṣmaṇa.

The reference to Indra is also important because Indra is the king of heaven. Lakṣmaṇa is essentially saying, "We hear that even the king of heaven has to go through ups and downs. He must suffer losses every now and then. If this sort of thing happens in heaven, it must certainly happen here on earth as well." Lakṣmaṇa's analogy was appropriate because Rāma was considered the king of earth. Rulers back in those times were addressed by terms such as mahīpatiḥ and naradeva, meaning the lord of earth and god in human form. Even though someone is king of a country or state, it doesn't mean that they are immune to the effects of nature. Good and bad times will come and go, but one must always remain on the virtuous path.

Though we may not be great kings or rulers, the lessons imparted by Lakṣmaṇa still apply to us. This is because we are kings on a very small scale in that we are masters of our own body. Our arms, legs, and hands don't move on their own. They take direction from the brain, which is powered by the heart, which is controlled by the spirit soul residing within. In this localized area, we have complete independence. Being masters of our own domain, it is incumbent upon us to always act properly, through good times and bad.

The virtuous path is known as dharma, or religiosity. Religion is important because it speaks to our soul, a soul that is eternal. The soul was there before we were born and will continue to be there after we die. Therefore it is more important to concern ourselves with the plight of the soul rather than the body. This was the example set by Lord Rāma. He was wholly dedicated to dharma. Not only did He appear in a very famous dynasty of pious kings known as the Ikṣvākus, but Lord Rāma was God Himself; thus He is the very definition of dharma.

Often times we are taught that if we are pious in our current life, we'll ascend to heaven after death. This is most certainly true, but as we see from the example of Lord Indra and the other demigods, heaven is not free from suffering. This is because the heavenly planets are still part of the material world, so it is under the control of nature. There is, however, a higher heaven, so to speak. This place is known as Vaikuṇṭha, a place free of anxieties and doubts. It is on the Vaikuṇṭha planets that Lord Viṣṇu resides. There is also a planet known as Kṛṣṇaloka where God, in His original form, resides alongside His close confidantes.

The objective of abiding by dharma is to reach God's spiritual world after our time here is finished. Since we are the kings of our bodies, we have the power to make the dream of reaching spiritual heaven a reality. We control how we act, move, eat, and talk. If we dovetail all of these activities with God's service, we are guaranteed of reaching that Supreme Abode. Lord Rāma would heed Lakṣmaṇa's advice and continue His search for Sītā. Eventually He would find her and defeat Rāvaṇa in a great battle. Lord Rāma did not let temporary setbacks divert Him from the true mission in life. We should follow His example and be perseverant in our execution of devotional service.

# Chapter 11 - One Who Laments

"O Rāghava, even if Vaidehī [Sītā] has been killed or taken away, it is not appropriate for You, O brave one, to lament in the same way as an ordinary person." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.14)

The famous Hindu caste system is generally thought of to be a social pecking-order based off bigotry and narrow-mindedness. Those unfamiliar with its origins, and even those who think they know how it should work, mistakenly believe that followers of the Vedic tradition subscribe to the idea of dividing people into groups based on their family heritage, and that certain people should be shunned since they belong to a lower caste. If we delve a little bit deeper into the subject, we'll see that this is most certainly not the case.

Note: In the 13th verse of the 4th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that the four varṇas, or divisions of human society, were created by Him based on individual qualities belonging to the modes of nature [gunas] and work performed [karma]. Though the Lord is the father of such a system, He is always unaffected by such work, as He is unchangeable [avyayam].

What we generally refer to as the caste system is actually known as varṇāśrama-dharma in Sanskrit. Varṇa refers to one's occupational duties and āśrama refers to a spiritual institution or stage in one's life. Dharma can mean religion, but a more accurate definition would be an occupational duty. The Vedas, which are the oldest scriptures in existence, tell us that religion is not just some blind faith where one steadfastly holds to a set of scriptures without knowing the meaning behind any of the statements contained within. Spirituality is a deep and intricate science which covers all bases of material existence. Religion really means connecting the soul with God; yoga. Dharma is that ever-existing quality or trait that defines something. For us spirit souls, our existence is based off of our relationship with God. Divorced from God, we cannot exist. One may ask, "How can one exist today if they don't believe in God? " The answer is that simple forgetfulness of the Supreme Lord and His powers is not enough to be divorced from Him. Though one may be unaware of the existence of God, it does not mean that they are separated from Him. In this regard, we see that dharma doesn't change.

Though dharma is eternal, or sanātana, the magnitude of one's adherence to it can certainly vary. Those who are well aware of their relationship to God as servant always remain on the righteous path and thus ensure that all actions are performed in accordance with dharma. Others, however, who make their own path in life, tread the road of adharma, or irreligion. The term dharma sounds nice, but what does it actually mean? What does it mean to connect with God all the time? To shed light on the subject, the Vedas introduce the concepts of varṇa and āśrama. Though we are all equal in a spiritual sense, upon assuming a material body, we inherit different qualities. Influenced by these qualities, we develop a penchant to perform some type of work. Not everyone wants to perform the same work. Some want to be government leaders, some want to engage in fighting and gambling, others are interested in business, and there are still others who are quite content with offering menial service to the rest of society.

These four divisions exist naturally, for even in the most secular of societies we see that there are people who engage in each one of these activities. The Vedic concept is that instead of artificially renouncing the reality of diversity in hopes of a Utopian idea of equality of outcomes, we should embrace these differences. More than just welcoming the varieties of work performed, we should dovetail this work with spiritual life. This is where āśrama comes in. Every person should engage in their occupational duties, but at the same time, advance in spiritual life. What does advancing spiritually mean? The aim is that one should gradually work their way towards realizing the fact that they are not their body.

At first glance, this idea seems silly. "If I am not my body, then what am I? All I know is my body." It is for this reason that the understanding of ahaṁ brahmāsmi, or "I am a spirit soul", takes a lifetime of study and spiritual endeavor to understand. Therefore the scientific system of societal maintenance passed down by the Vedas advises that one gradually progress through the four āśramas of life. In the beginning stages, we should humbly submit ourselves to a spiritual master. Living as a celibate student, we can take in spiritual wisdom in an unfettered environment where we don't have to worry about maintaining a job and family. When we reach adulthood, we can get married and thus gain a partner in our religious efforts. A religiously inclined wife is referred to as a sadharma-cāriṇī in Sanskrit, a term which references the fact that the wife is the performer of religious duties along with her husband. After many years of family life, we can retire from our job and focus more on connecting with God. After a few years of retired family life, we should finally renounce everything and make spirituality our full-time occupation. This will prepare us for our impending death. If we have the right consciousness at the time of death, we can immediately ascend to the imperishable and eternally existing spiritual world, where we can have loving association with the Supreme Lord in His personal form.

Note: In the 5th verse of the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that anyone who, at the end of life, remembers Him while quitting their body automatically attains the nature of the Lord, and that there is no doubt of this.

For the purposes of this discussion, we will focus on the four varṇas laid out in the Vedas, and more specifically the śūdras. As mentioned before, in any society there will be people who are quite content doing manual labor and offering service to others. In Vedic terminology, this group is known as the śūdra class. In India, this word "śūdra" has become taboo in a sense; it is considered an epithet for low-class people. It should not be considered as such because the word śūdra actually has a deeper meaning. Śudra means someone who is untrained in any religious discipline. It is this characteristic that makes one a candidate for performing simple labor.

Just because someone takes to manual labor as an occupation, it doesn't necessarily mean they are a śūdra. Nor does one's family heritage determine their caste either. The system of varṇāśrama-dharma is very scientific and it is completely based on one's qualities. In the original system, a person belonged to the higher classes [brāhmaṇa, kṣatriya and vaiśya] after they were initiated by a spiritual master, or a brāhmaṇa guru. This initiation only took place after a brāhmaṇa judged the qualities of a student. If a student had a proclivity towards higher learning and studying Vedic literature, he would be trained as a brāhmaṇa. If a person had an inclination towards fighting and providing protection to others, they would be trained as a kṣatriya. Similarly, if a student took a liking to business, agriculture, and cow protection, they would be trained as a vaiśya.

The śūdras would never receive training from a guru since they were considered not intelligent enough to understand the duties of the higher castes. This doesn't mean that simply because a person's father was a śūdra that they would be automatically deemed unintelligent. The spiritual master would judge a person's qualities and then determine their caste. As time went on, the practice degraded to the point where people began claiming higher caste status simply off birthright. This degraded caste system is still practiced in parts of India, though it is not in line with Vedic principles.

Since a śūdra is anyone who is untrained in any Vedic discipline, we all assume this designation at birth, and it remains with us until we are given a spiritual education. A śūdra has one other noticeable characteristic: they easily lament. What do they lament over? Things pertaining to the body. This includes death, the loss of money, bad fortune, etc. Since our identities ultimately come from the soul residing within, lamenting over things relating to the body is considered unnecessary.

One may wonder what is wrong with grieving over the body. Are we not supposed to be sad if our friends and family members die? Are we not supposed to get bummed out if we lose our job? Are we not supposed to have compassion for the poor? Concern for these things is certainly justified. Of course we will be sad when bad things happen to us or to others, but the wise don't let these unfortunate events take them off course. The mission in life is to learn about God and use that knowledge to love Him. One cannot truly understand God unless and until they understand who they are. If they remain on the bodily conception of life, taking issues relating to matter to be of utmost importance, they will never understand who they really are.

We are all meant to be God's servants. This isn't a forced type of service such as slavery. Pure devotion to God is completely voluntary and results in the highest bliss. God is so kind that He does not force us to love Him. If we want to forget Him and take our bodies to be the beginning and end of everything, He will most certainly allow us to do so. At the same time, those who are forgetful of God are more likely to become depressed when faced with temporary setbacks. It takes a little intelligence to realize that everything relating to matter is temporary. The higher classes of men are trained in the Vedic discipline, so they are taught to persevere through the tough times. We may live a comfortable life, with a nice salary and a nice home, but these things can be taken away in a second. As we've seen over the course of history, economic conditions can fluctuate very quickly in a country. One minute there is an economic boom and the next over ten percent of the population is unemployed. Our wonderful life, with all our nice relationships, can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

It is the duty of those who are trained in the Vedic discipline, the higher castes, to set a good example for the rest of society. When they hit upon hard times, they should remain firm and steady in their execution of dharma, for the rest of society will follow their lead. If our leaders exhibit the qualities of śūdras, whereby they easily lament over issues relating to the material body, then the rest of society will follow suit. This will result in a condition where all the citizens will be constantly in distress and always on edge. The leaders must be of topmost character and highly perseverant.

This was the lesson taught by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. Many thousands of years ago, the Supreme Absolute Truth Himself appeared on earth in the guise of a human being. Since God is Absolute, when He makes a personal appearance on earth, everything relating to Him remains completely spiritual. So even though Rāma appeared in the guise of a kṣatriya warrior, His body was completely blissful and full of knowledge. God doesn't appear on earth just for His own fun, but rather to set a good example for future generations. Not only can we learn from God's activities, but we can take delight in them as well. Just as we like to watch television shows and movies to see our favorite actors in action, God performs wonderful pastimes for the benefit of future generations who will read about His activities in the great Vedic texts.

Lord Rāma wanted to set a good example of how one should always follow the path of dharma. As a member of the kṣatriya caste, Rāma's duty was to serve as a leader in society. Yet since He was in the guise of a human being, He also wanted to show how human beings must endure tragedy and calamity. On one occasion, Rāma's beautiful and chaste wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped from the forest. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa went looking for her but couldn't find her. Rāma loved Sītā very much; she was a true sadharma-cāriṇī. The trio was in the forest due to an exile punishment handed out by Rāma's father, the King of Ayodhyā. Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa easily could have stayed back in Ayodhyā, but they refused to let Rāma suffer alone.

Since His wife was kidnapped, Rāma felt like a failure. He failed to perform His duty as a husband of providing complete protection to His wife. After searching for a while, Rāma gave way to lamentation. He became sad and then angry to the point where He was ready to destroy the whole world as an act of revenge. Lakṣmaṇa, Rāma's wonderful younger brother, took this opportunity to offer some sound words of advice. In the above referenced statement, he says that even if Sītā were dead, Rāma still shouldn't lament in such a way.

This may seem a little odd at first. A person's wife being kidnapped and killed is most certainly a cause for great distress. Who wouldn't be greatly saddened by such a tragedy? Yet Lakṣmaṇa's statements were completely accurate. One of the most famous books of the Vedic tradition is the Bhagavad-gītā, which is known as the Song of God. In the Gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa, God Himself, personally appears on earth and delivers a wonderful dissertation on the meaning of life and the difference between matter and spirit to His cousin and disciple, Arjuna. This talk was delivered on the battlefield of Kurukṣetra just prior to the commencement of a great war. At the time, Arjuna was hesitant to fight because he didn't want his cousins and other family members, who were fighting for the opposition, to die.

Note: In the 11th verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, tells Arjuna that though he appears to be speaking learned words, he is lamenting over something not worthy of any lamentation. The learned man [paṇḍitāḥ] laments neither for the living nor the dead.

In His opening statements, Lord Kṛṣṇa emphasized the fact that grieving over the material body is not wise. The learned never rejoice nor lament the condition of others, for they understand that there is an equality shared amongst all living entities due to the fact that every living being has a spirit soul residing within. This soul can never be destroyed no matter what is done to the body. From the passage above, we see that thousands of years prior to Kṛṣṇa's advent, Lakṣmaṇa possessed this very same knowledge. This illustrates the potency of the varṇāśrama-dharma system when it is properly implemented. Not only did Lakṣmaṇa understand these higher truths, but so did all the kṣatriyas and brāhmaṇas of the time.

In the end, Lord Rāma would heed Lakṣmaṇa's advice and continue His search for Sītā. Eventually Rāma would march to Lanka and take on Sītā's captor, Rāvaṇa, face to face. After a wonderful battle, Rāvaṇa would be defeated and Sītā would be rescued. The lesson here is that we should try to understand Vedic knowledge by humbly submitting ourselves before a bona fide spiritual master. The great Vaiṣṇava saints have left volumes upon volumes of written instruction. If we have the desire to understand God, we should take the necessary steps to reconnect with Him. We should elevate ourselves from the status of śūdras and try to come to a higher understanding.

Whatever bad fortune comes our way, we should not let it divert us from the path of devotional service, or bhakti-yoga. This is the highest religious system. Even if we are unable to understand higher concepts of spiritual life, we can all take to devotional service by simply chanting, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". By keeping ourselves always connected with God, we can be sure that lamentation will never take us off the righteous path. Following Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa's example, we can sleigh the demon of ignorance and finally achieve true enlightenment; love for God.

# Chapter 12 - Great Seers

"O Rāma, keen observers such as Yourself never lament even when faced with the most distressful of situations, for they are able to maintain a steady outlook." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.15)

The Bhagavad-gītā chronicles a famous historical incident where God Himself offered counsel and sound words of advice to one of His dear devotees. Such a situation is not difficult to imagine, for God is the all-knowing and all-powerful, while we mortal human beings are limited in our knowledge capacity. Yet God's kindness towards His devotees is so great that He often likes to do a role reversal. In these situations, He pretends to be the one who is lacking knowledge, thereby allowing His devotees to offer Him counsel.

As human beings, the highest achievement we can hope for is to become a lover of God. The Vedas tell us that the Supreme Lord, Kṛṣṇa, is the energetic, while the living entities are His energy. The perfection of life is to have fusion between the energy and the energetic. What results is pure love, the variety of which cannot be found in the three worlds. Not even the heavenly planets can give a glimpse of the pure bliss that exists in the loving relationship between God and His pure devotees.

As spirit souls, we are meant to always be with our eternal companion, Lord Kṛṣṇa, who is the great soul, or Paramātmā. Eternal happiness does not come through the acquisition of wealth, the frantic search for empirical and practical knowledge, or the gratification of the senses through eating, sleeping, or sex life. These material endeavors certainly do provide a limited form of happiness, but true ānanda, or bliss, comes through association with God. After all, our senses are only material coverings made up of the various elements of nature. The spirit soul, on the other hand, transcends nature and thus for it to be happy, it must associate with things that also transcend nature.

Becoming a successful industrialist, a world-famous inventor, or a great politician is not the ultimate aim of life. The most exalted figures in history from the spiritualist's point of view are those who attained pure love for God through the practice of devotional service, or bhakti-yoga. These figures are so famous that they remain objects of worship for thousands and thousands of years. Their notoriety is acquired through the grace of the Supreme Lord, who makes sure to highlight their extraordinary qualities for future generations to observe and learn from. This is an important point because it is only through studying the action of these famous devotees that we can achieve life's ultimate objective. If we imitate the activities of ordinary fruitive workers, at best we can hope to be just like them. For example, if we admire a great politician and study their teachings, it is likely that we too can become a great statesman some day. Yet this type of notoriety is not ever-lasting, nor does it provide any extended bliss. Whatever material perfections we achieve, they must be given up at the time of death. Then upon taking birth again, we must start all over in our material pursuits.

Spiritual pursuits are different. Taking up devotional service to God means trying to reconnect with our spiritual nature. As mentioned before, the spirit souls are meant to serve as God's energy. Since we are currently in a conditioned state, we falsely believe that we are the energetic. Thus we gradually drift away from our natural constitutional position as eternal servants of the Supreme. Therefore we require some help in this matter; someone to show us the light. The great devotees fit the bill, for they are prime examples of perfection in life. The great devotees of the past realized that they were meant to serve as God's energy, so they set the example for how we should act.

Throughout the course of human history, there have been many notable devotees. According to the opinion of Lord Caitanya and other great Vaiṣṇavas, the perfection of spiritual energy can be seen in Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī, the eternal consort of Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa. Radha is always thinking of Kṛṣṇa and trying to serve Him. Not only does she derive pleasure by associating with Kṛṣṇa, but the Supreme Lord similarly feels tremendous satisfaction by accepting her service. Another great devotee is Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. Many thousands of years ago, Lord Kṛṣṇa appeared on earth in the form of one of His many incarnations. The word "avatāra" gets used quite often these days, but it actually has its origin in the Vedas. Avatāra is a Sanskrit word which means one who descends. This person who descends is God, and He is coming from the spiritual world. Though the Lord appears to come to earth in a material body, the avatāra actually exists eternally in the spiritual world. Thus there is no difference between a Kṛṣṇa avatāra and Kṛṣṇa Himself.

Since Lord Rāma was God Himself, it makes sense that He would be an authority on matters of religion. He was wholly dedicated to dharma, or religiosity, so He taught primarily by example. As the son of a great king, Rāma's occupational duty required Him to be chivalrous and equally disposed towards all living entities. This is the proper way for a societal leader to behave. Currently we see that politicians run on various platforms, saying they're for this group and against another. "I'm for working families; I'm for the little guy." While this is all well and good, a truly wise person will be for everyone. This is how God behaves, for He is the creator of every single living entity, even the animals. Supporting the little guy at the expense of another person simply due to differences in salary is an activity of the ignorant.

Though Rāma taught religious tenets by example, He was nevertheless playing the role of a human being. As the saying goes, "To ere is human", Lord Rāma showed signs of imperfection from time-to-time. We shouldn't mistake this to mean that God is fallible, because He is anything but. One of Kṛṣṇa's many names is Acyuta, which means one who never falls down. Even when Rāma appeared to make mistakes, He did so specifically to prop up and highlight the virtues of His devotees. One such time was when His wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped while residing in the forest. Since Rāma was God Himself, it made sense that His closest associates possessed the topmost character. We often see that we can judge a person's character based on the company they keep. If someone is hailed and highly regarded by other respected people, then we can assume that they are a good person. This is the reason why politicians lobby to get endorsements from notable public figures.

Rāma's closest associates were His younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa, and Sītā. As part of His pastimes, Rāma had to roam the forests of India for fourteen years, living essentially the life of a homeless person. This was the result of some unforeseen family politics. Nevertheless, Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā refused to allow Rāma to wander the forest alone, so they both renounced their family and home in favor of helping Him. Unfortunately, one day Sītā was kidnapped through a sinister plot hatched by the king of demons, Rāvaṇa. The ten-headed Rākṣasa king, Rāvaṇa, devised a plan whereby Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa would be lured away from their camp, thus leaving Sītā all by herself. The plan went through without a hitch, and when Rāma came back to His camp, He saw that Sītā was gone.

Immediately the Lord gave way to lamentation and anger. It is impossible to put Sītā's glories into words; she was the very same Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī appearing in the guise of a beautiful queen. So in this regard, her devotion to God was unmatched. At the same time, she was kind, sweet, and very innocent. No one could ever think of harming her, yet she met with the awful misfortune of being kidnapped. Rāma did not even want to think of what might have happened to her. We can all sympathize with this situation, for our worst fear is that something bad will happen to one of our family members. If our dear wife or daughter were kidnapped, we wouldn't know what to do. If God forbid something were to happen to them, we'd seriously contemplate taking our own lives.

By having to suffer this type of separation, Rāma played the role of an ordinary human being. This unfortunate incident, though seemingly an unforeseen mishap, allowed Rāma to glorify His devotee younger brother. Seeing Rāma's lamentation, Lakṣmaṇa immediately interjected to offer some sound words of advice. He put forth a series of wonderful arguments, all based on the eternal truths of the Vedas. In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa is reminding Rāma that those who have experienced life, and understand what should be done and what shouldn't be done, the great seers, never lament even in the face of the greatest calamity. They always remain calm and maintain a steady outlook, not being deterred by the negative situation. These statements are similar to the instructions that Lord Kṛṣṇa would provide many thousands of years later on the battlefield of Kurukṣetra. Kṛṣṇa advised His cousin and disciple Arjuna to stand up and fight and not worry about the consequences because by acting according to one's occupational duty one can never incur any sin.

Note: In the 38th verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa advises Arjuna to remove all concern for happiness, distress, profit, loss, victory, and defeat and instead just take to battle for the sake of fighting. By so doing, he would not incur any sin.

Experience is very important in being able to understand how one should act. In the beginning stages of any endeavor, we are likely to commit many mistakes since we don't know much about the field of activity we are interested in. Yet through experience, enduring successes and defeats, we slowly gain a better understanding of how something works. On a more abstract level, those who are experienced in life come to the sober conclusion that good and bad things come and go on their own. It is often said that the elderly aren't afraid to die because they have experienced all that life has to offer. This means that they don't fear bad things happening because they have seen it all; "been there, done that".

The neophytes don't have this knowledge. Especially amongst the younger population, there is an idealistic view of the future. Young people think they can rule the world and that if they acquire enough material success they will always be happy. Getting old and dying doesn't even cross their minds. It is incumbent upon those who are inexperienced in life to take instruction from those who are experienced. At the time these statements were made, Lakṣmaṇa was still quite young, yet he had the knowledge of an elderly wise man. Lakṣmaṇa acquired this knowledge not only from his own experiences but from taking instruction from the wise brāhmaṇas of his kingdom. This is an example of acquiring knowledge through the descending process. One person acquires knowledge of a set of facts and then kindly distributes that information to those who don't have it. It is much easier to learn this way since the student doesn't have to make the same mistakes that the teacher did.

The other part of Lakṣmaṇa's statement deals with the concept of keeping a clear vision, knowing what to do and what not to do without becoming disheartened by the current situation. Those who know what to do in life understand that excessively lamenting over temporary setbacks is something not to be done. This sort of lamentation is the behavior of the unintelligent. Those who associate exclusively with their material body don't have an understanding of the soul or the temporary nature of this world. Therefore they easily lament at the slightest loss of sense gratification or the severing of a close relationship with another human being.

Avoiding lamentation is something that we should do, but there is still the other half of the equation. It is not enough to simply refrain from certain behavior. We should have something to occupy our time, something that we should be doing. This occupation is known as dharma, the highest of which is bhāgavata-dharma, or devotional service. It is our inherent duty to take the necessary steps to learn about God, understand who He is, and use that knowledge to serve Him. This is the real aim of life. Yet we still must perform our prescribed duties since we need to maintain our bodies. The key is to perform our activities with detachment, not caring for loss or gain.

It was Lord Rāma's duty to rescue His wife and defeat the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Thus Lakṣmaṇa's advice was that Rāma should give up His lamentation, remain resolute, and continue His search for Sītā. This is precisely what Rāma would end up doing, as He would eventually find Sītā's whereabouts and rescue her after defeating Rāvaṇa in battle. The lesson here is that we don't need to go through a lifetime of suffering to understand the eternal truths of life. The glorious Lakṣmaṇa has provided beautiful words of wisdom which we can all live by. Lakṣmaṇa is an incarnation of Baladeva, who is considered Kṛṣṇa's immediate plenary expansion. Lakṣmaṇa is also representative of the spiritual master, or guru. By following His instructions, we can slowly make our way back to the spiritual world. We should all try to perform as much devotional activity as possible. By keeping an attachment to God, we will automatically detach ourselves from the illusory material nature, thus making it easier to perform our prescribed duties without giving way to lamentation.

# Chapter 13 - The Object of Morality

"O best among men, after fixing Your intelligence in transcendental knowledge, do You follow completely the course of action decided by Your mind. Being engaged in activities guided by intelligence [buddhyā-yukta], those possessing great wisdom can decipher between auspicious and inauspicious activities." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.16)

For many of us, adhering to right and wrong is very important. We have an inherent understanding that certain activities should not be done and that others should be. Even if we aren't aware of all the rules, we still more or less have a desire to remain on the virtuous path. Yet in this endeavor there are many gray areas; situations where we aren't sure on what the proper conduct should be. In these instances, who should we turn to? The Vedas tell us that the only person who has a perfect understanding of right and wrong is the one who created the system in the first place.

Through experiencing life, we gain a basic understanding of morality, even if it may be relative. We should tell the truth, be kind to others, share our possessions with friends and family, and have compassion for the poor. On the flip side, we should avoid lying, stealing, cheating, etc. These are basic rules that most of us live by. But not every issue is black and white. Sometimes we're not sure if we're abiding by the virtuous path. For example, meat eating is a cause for concern. On the one hand, we have a desire to eat nice food, and the flesh of animals certainly tastes very good. On the other side, we have the issue of how to procure such food, for violence is most certainly required. Unless we wait for an animal to die of natural causes, we must mercilessly kill an innocent living being in order to eat its flesh. According to the viewpoint of many, this type of violence is never justified. The animal did nothing wrong, so why should we kill it? At the same time, there are others who believe that God gave man dominion over the animal kingdom. There are many animal species that actually kill other animals themselves, so in this regard, we aren't really doing anything unnatural.

The issue of animal killing is only one small example of the questions that arise in relation to morality and virtue. Where do we go to settle such disputes? Most of the time, we approach those who come up with their own view of morality. Such people have been around since the beginning of the creation, for mankind has an increased level of intelligence over other species. Thus man will want to use his brain power to come up with various philosophies and ideals to live up to. We can't blame people for coming up with their own ideas of morality, because they simply don't know any better. If no one is there to teach right or wrong, or if there is a lack of authorized leadership in society, what are people to do?

There have been so many morality and pseudo-spiritual movements that have cropped up throughout history. Some famous personalities believed that violence was never allowed under any circumstance. Even if someone were to break into your house and attack your daughter, violence in retaliation still was not justified. Non-violence was the only way to perfection in life since it meant that you weren't harming anyone else. Then there are others who believe that telling the truth is the most important virtue. Under no circumstances is lying acceptable. There are others who take charity and philanthropy to be the greatest virtues. Above anything else, we should try to help the poor and the down-trodden by giving them money. "Open nice schools and big hospitals, because service to mankind is the highest religion."

Amazingly, there are also those who actually believe that the highest virtue in life is to try to satisfy the senses in any manner possible. What most of us would consider as impious behavior [lying, cheating, and stealing], others view as virtuous. "After all, this life is the beginning and end of everything. Why not try to enjoy as much as possible? You only live once, so why not make the most of it?"

It is impossible to take an accurate inventory of all the theories and philosophies that are in existence today. If you walk into a retail chain bookstore, you will see hundreds of self-help books on every subject imaginable. Each one of these authors has a different philosophy on life, a set of moral principles to live by. So how do we know who is right? How do we know if we are acting piously or impiously?

To answer these questions properly, we must first examine the purpose of virtue and morality. Why is it important to behave properly? What is the ultimate objective? To this end, we see that there are different virtues and moralities based on what we are trying to achieve. For example, say our end-goal is to make sure every person in the world has adequate food, shelter, and clothing. Keeping this vision in mind, we would take the necessary steps to not only give away our own wealth, but also to induce others to be charitable. We would lobby governments to change their taxing and spending policies to make sure the poor were taken care of, regardless of who else might get hurt. In this system, right and wrong is determined by comparing the result of an action to the end-goal of eliminating poverty. If we have a question as to whether we are behaving piously or impiously, we simply have to decipher whether the action we are taking is furthering the mission of serving humanity through charity.

This same concept can be applied to almost any other philosophy. For example, right and wrong for a high court judge is determined by studying the law. Say that a judge must adjudicate a trial relating to the issue of abortion. Though for many of us, the practice of abortion is an issue of morality, in this case the judge must put aside their personal opinion. Right and wrong is determined solely by what is stated in the law. If existing law states that abortion is sanctioned, and there is no other case law or written code which refutes this, then all cases relating to abortion must be decided in favor of the practice continuing. For a high court judge, their occupational duty is to view cases without any bias and with deference to the law. Thus their system of right and wrong is based solely on what is written in the law codes of the city, state, or country.

This is all very interesting, for we see that there are so many different systems of right and wrong depending on a person's disposition. But how do we decipher right and wrong for every person as it relates to daily life? How do we determine the common standards of morality and decency which everyone can abide by under all circumstances? Once again, the issue comes down to our end-goal, what we are striving for. We have already seen that morality can change based on a person's occupational duty or desires. Yet we also understand that every person has different desires, so there really is no way of determining whose occupational duty will take precedent. One person may be a lawyer and another may be a police officer, but there's no way of adequately determining whose occupational duty is more important or virtuous.

In order to find real morality and virtue, we have to know the purpose of our existence. Contrary to what most people believe, the aim of human life is not the acquisition of wealth, fame, beauty, or knowledge. Though it is nice to gratify our senses, this pursuit is not the reason for our existence. The Vedas, the ancient scriptures of India, state that every single person's occupational duty is to seek out the supreme enjoyer, the original owner of everything, and the best friend of all the living entities. Only one person meets these qualifications: God. The occupational duty of finding and serving God exists eternally and applies to every single living entity, regardless of their religious faith, gender, ethnicity, age, etc.

How do we know that our duty is to love God? We inherently understand that simply taking up some mundane occupation cannot be the point to life. After all, everyone has different desires and goals, thus each person walks a different path in life. Even after achieving all of one's goals, desire still remains. We see that the most celebrated financiers and business moguls remain ever-unsatisfied even after acquiring billions of dollars in wealth. We see that successful politicians become so much attached to power that they never want to give it up. Many past Senators in America served so long that they actually died while in office.

There is a higher form of happiness and bliss which cannot be achieved through material pursuits. There is a dormant desire for spiritual bliss that exists inside all of us. This inclination towards spiritual life is not easily acted upon because we're not sure which religious system is correct. Who can we trust? One religious leader says one thing, while another says something completely different. This is why the only bona fide religious system is that which teaches people to love God. Any other religious system or philosophical speculation will fall short if it is not attached to God.

The Vedas define the occupational duty of man as dharma. Dharma is that set of principles which is all-encompassing, meaning that one who properly understands dharma will have perfect knowledge of right and wrong under any and all circumstances. For example, there is a right way to go about building a house, and also a wrong way. The right way will lead to a sturdy and safe housing structure, while the wrong way can lead to disastrous results such as the house collapsing. Similarly, there is a right way to read and a wrong way to read. Reading the right way means understanding the words as they are presented, while reading the wrong way means being unable to understand the intent of an author.

Note: In the 8th verse of the 9th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that He personally enters into material nature [prakṛtiṁ] and causes the creations and annihilations again and again. In this way, the entire cosmic order works under His direction.

Dharma can be thought of as the sum total of every right and wrong way to do something. This is because real dharma comes from the creator of everything in this world: God. We may be able to create on a small scale, and a giant business magnate may be responsible for all the buildings in a particular city, but there is only one person who has created everything in this world. That person is known as Lord Kṛṣṇa in the Vedic tradition. We can think of Kṛṣṇa as God, but the word "God" itself is not very descriptive. Every person has a different conception of what God means, but more or less, we don't have any concrete understanding of what He looks like, what His activities are, or what His demeanor is. To fill in the blanks, the Vedas give us God's names, forms, and attributes. Though the total number of qualities is unlimited, there is one form of God which stands above all others. That form is Lord Kṛṣṇa, whose very name means one who is all-attractive.

Since God is the beginning, middle, and end of everything, it makes sense that He would be the proper person to turn to for issues relating to right and wrong. After all, the purpose of human life is to reconnect with Kṛṣṇa, so wouldn't it make sense to look to Him to provide guidance on how to go about making that connection? God is not unkind in this regard. Though He allowed us to take birth in this world, He doesn't want us to remain here perpetually. Through His kind mercy, He gives us the set of guidelines which, when followed, will allow us to return to His spiritual abode. This set of guidelines is known as dharma.

One may ask, "Where do I go to get these guidelines? I don't know where God is." Though the Lord, as antaryāmī, is all around us through His various energies and expansions, it is true that we currently cannot see Him with our material eyes. Fear not though, as the Lord was kind enough to pass down Vedic wisdom to great personalities in the past. They in turn then passed it down to their disciples, thus creating a chain of disciplic succession known as the paramparā system. If we want to know what is right and wrong, and how we should act in every situation, we simply need to consult a person belonging to this chain.

Sometimes this chain gets broken, so the Lord personally appears on earth to reinstitute the principles of religion. Around five thousand years ago, Lord Kṛṣṇa came to earth in His original form to impart spiritual wisdom to His dear friend Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukṣetra. Many thousands of years before that, however, the Lord appeared on earth in His incarnation as Lord Rāma. An avatāra, or incarnation, of Kṛṣṇa is non-different from the Lord, even though His outward physical features may be different. Lord Rāma appeared in the guise of a handsome prince who was the son of the king of Ayodhyā. On one occasion, Lord Rāma's beautiful wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped while she was residing in the forest with Rāma and His younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa.

Lord Rāma, who was God Himself, played the part of a human being very well, so He gave way to lamentation and grief after finding out His wife was missing. He searched the forest for a little while, but couldn't find her. Losing rationality and good judgment, Lord Rāma became so angry that He was ready to destroy the whole world as revenge for His wife's kidnapping. At this moment, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in and offered some sound words of advice.

In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa is asking Rāma to deliberate on what is right and wrong by taking shelter of transcendental knowledge and then decide on the proper course of action. Prior to this, Lakṣmaṇa had offered his own sound words of advice, reminding Rāma that every person must meet both good and bad fortune in life, but that these temporary setbacks should not deter anyone from remaining on the path of dharma. Yet after uttering these cogent statements, Lakṣmaṇa reiterated the fact that Rāma Himself was more than capable of determining the right course of action. This is exemplary behavior from a pure devotee of God. Lakṣmaṇa, having always been by Rāma's side throughout his life, was a true expert on morality and virtue. He took service to Rāma to be his only dharma in life, thus he automatically acquired perfect knowledge relating to the rights and wrongs of all other areas in life. Yet Lakṣmaṇa made sure to remind Rāma that He was God Himself, and that He didn't need this sort of counseling.

The lesson given by Lakṣmaṇa here is that the truly wise can, by always occupying themselves in activities guided by the highest intelligence, determine on their own what is the right course of action. The only way a person can be classified as truly wise is if their intelligence comes directly from God or one of His representatives. This was the case with Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa, for one person was God and the other was His protector and representative. In a similar manner, we too can make ourselves wise by humbly submitting to a devotee of Kṛṣṇa. The spiritual master has seen the truth because he himself learned it from his spiritual master. We can't make up morality on our own, because even if we try, we will always come up short.

The spiritual masters take to devotional service, or buddhyā-yukta, as their main occupation. Devotional service is described as such because it represents the most intelligent activity. The most potent process of devotional service is the chanting of the holy names of the Lord, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". By taking to this process and following the instructions of the spiritual master, we can fix ourselves in transcendental knowledge, and thus be able to choose the right course of action in any and all situations.

# Chapter 14 - Playing To Win

"Unseen and indefinite are the good and bad reactions of fruitive work. And without taking action, the desired fruits of such work cannot manifest." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.17)

Wayne Gretzky is considered to be the greatest hockey player in history by most fans of the sport. Playing for over twenty years starting in the late 1970s, Gretzky rewrote the record books, shattering previously established records for goals, assists, points, hat tricks, playoff points, most points in a season, and a host of other records. Almost every offensive record of any importance is held by Gretzky, who thus acquired the nickname, "The Great One". Since Gretzky was such a great hockey player, it made sense that media and fans would look to him for words of advice on what it takes to achieve greatness. One of his more famous quotes is, "You miss one hundred percent of the shots that you don't take." Though the semantics of this sentence may be flawed, the underlying principle is undoubtedly true and can be applied to spiritual life as well.

It should be noted that Gretzky's statement always evaluates to "false" for the very reason that technically a "shot" is only recorded as such if it actually goes on goal. In hockey terminology, a "missed shot" is a puck which was intentionally fired by an offensive player which either ended up on goal or missed the net. Therefore it is impossible to miss a shot that was never taken. It also must be said that many times passes inadvertently end up going in the net, either through deflections off the goaltender or other defenders. Regardless of the structural flaws, based merely off the intention, the premise and conclusion of Gretzky's statement are very easy to understand. This statement is so famous that it is invoked quite often, even appearing once on the American television sitcom, The Office.

In hockey, the objective is to score more goals than your opponent by the end of the game. In order to score a goal, a player must shoot the puck towards a net which is defended by a goaltender. Since Gretzky was the greatest goal scorer of all time, it makes sense that he was also one of the greatest shooters of all time. The point of Gretzky's statement is that if you want to score, you have to be willing to take shots. This is indeed true as the players who lead the league in goals-scored each season are often also the leaders in shots taken. Another legendary player, Brett Hull, was notorious for shooting the puck from any place on the ice. In fact, great scorers are often criticized if they don't shoot the puck enough.

There is another side to this argument however. What if we don't shoot the puck? Can we still score? We can, but we have to rely on other players. This is a passive approach, but one that can certainly yield results. Even in Gretzky's case, we see that early on in his career he was a great shooter, amassing fifty-goal seasons without a problem. Later on, however, he changed his focus to passing. He became the perennial league-leader in assists, which is a statistical category that gets credited to a player who passes the puck to another player who ends up scoring the goal.

When a player decides to pass instead of shoot, he is essentially deciding to sit back and let another player, or entity, worry about the desired result, that of scoring a goal. Material life can be thought of in the same way. Many of us believe in the concept of fate or destiny, and according to the Vedas, destiny actually exists. Though fate is seen as an invisible hand which brings a series of events together, the Vedas shed a little more light on the subject. It is undoubtedly true that the events around us happen on their own, but there is still a root cause to everything. This root cause is karma, or fruitive activity. The results of karma are delivered through the forces of nature, which can be referred to as time, destiny, or the divine influence.

Every action we perform on the material platform has a commensurate result, or fruit. In Vedic terminology, fruitive results are referred to as karma-phalaṁ. This concept of cause and effect can be easily understood by studying our own lives. Prior to our birth, we existed somewhere, for the soul inside of us is eternal. As Lord Kṛṣṇa states in the Bhagavad-gītā, the soul never dies, nor does it ever take birth. It cannot be cut into pieces, burned up, or made wet. The soul can transmigrate, however, through various material bodies. Each one of these transmigration events is known as a birth. The circumstances of each birth are determined by, you guessed it, past karma.

We performed so many activities in the past over the course of so many lifetimes, and thus we are experiencing those results today. Though the results come to us, we don't exactly know what caused them, nor do we know what their nature will be. For example, many children are killed in the womb today through the abortion process. This is the result of past negative karma. The soul, however, has no knowledge of what the actual result will be or when it will bear fruit. Lord Rāma tells us that sinful reactions blossom in season, just as trees bring forth flowers at the right time each year. When these results bear fruit, they are ghastly in nature, thus matching the intensity of the original sin that was committed.

Because karma operates in this manner, many of us throw our hands in the air. "Okay, I don't have to worry about anything. Everything happens due to my past karma anyway, so I don't really have any control." In many respects, this is a good attitude. We should not be overly dejected over bad fortune, nor should we overly rejoice over good fortune because both of these come on their own due to our past karma and the karma of others. In this way, we see that everything does happen by chance, but that chance has a name: Kṛṣṇa.

In the Vedic tradition, Lord Kṛṣṇa is considered the Supreme Personality of Godhead; the original form of God. The Supreme Lord is for everyone, irrespective of what language they speak or who their parents are. Since He is all-pervading, His original form must be attractive to everyone. Thus Lord Kṛṣṇa fits the bill, for no one is more attractive than He. Though Lord Kṛṣṇa controls the system of chance, we should not think that the events of chance are random or lacking in intelligence. On the contrary, the system of karma is completely scientific and fair. Though Kṛṣṇa Himself doesn't personally manage this system, He deputes highly advanced living entities to institute the rules fairly and evenly.

Note: In the 18th verse of the 4th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that one who sees action in inaction and inaction in action is truly intelligent. Even though such an individual takes part in fruitive activity, he remains transcendental to all the effects.

On the one hand we see that our actions have consequences, and on the other we see that everything in this life is a result of past karma. So which avenue should we choose: action or inaction? The answer to this question can be found in Kṛṣṇa's teachings. Lord Kṛṣṇa tells us that the wise person sees action in inaction and inaction in action. This seems like a circular statement which is cleverly worded, but it has deep import. The secret to life is that we should most certainly perform our prescribed duties which will benefit us spiritually and, at the same time, avoid those activities which will harm us spiritually.

This point of view was confirmed by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma, many thousands of years ago. In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is offering some sound words of advice to Rāma, who has just realized that His wife has gone missing from the forest. Rāma was an incarnation of Kṛṣṇa who appeared on earth many thousands of years ago to reinstitute the principles of dharma and kill the demon class. On one particular occasion, Rāma's beautiful and chaste wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped from the forest while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were not with her. Upon returning to their cottage, Rāma realized that Sītā was gone and He immediately gave way to lamentation and anger. He was ready to destroy the entire world out of vengeance.

Lakṣmaṇa, the ever well-wisher of his elder brother, stepped in at this point and offered some sound words of advice. In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa makes two very cogent points. The first truth he states is that though there are reactions to fruitive work, those reactions can't be easily seen, nor does one know how long the results will last. This means that we may have performed some great activity in the past, but we have no idea whether we have seen the corresponding results yet. Moreover, the results may have come to us already and expired. For example, if we take birth in a pious or well-to-do family, it is most certainly the result of past pious activities. However, once we reach adulthood, the fruits of this reward go away, for we are on our own. Having good parents is certainly beneficial to us in the early years of our life, but once we become adults, we are independent and forced to manage our own affairs.

Lakṣmaṇa also states that unless one takes action, he can never realize the results he desires. Herein lies the similarity to the issue of missing one hundred percent of the shots you don't take. "You can't win if you don't try" is essentially what Lakṣmaṇa is saying. But from the first part of Lakṣmaṇa's statement, we see that the results of our actions are indefinite. So this begs the question of whether or not performing activity is worth it. For example, we may shoot the puck as many times as we can, and score goals every now and then, but if the other team ends up winning, what was the point to our shooting?

Note: In the 12th verse of the 4th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa states that those who want perfection of fruitive activity take to performing yajñas, or sacrifices, to propitiate the demigods. As such, they very quickly receive their rewards within this world after performing their work.

The solution to this dilemma is to work for that thing which provides a permanent result; a fruit which never goes away. This type of result can only be achieved through spiritual activity. If we work on the platform of karma, or material work, our results will most certainly come, but they will be short-lived. The highest material reward is ascension to the heavenly planets. Yet from Vedic information, we see that residence on a material heavenly planet is not permanent, for there is every chance of falling back to earth. Once the merits of our activities expire, we will be forced to take birth in a material body again.

Spiritual activities, however, are considered above karma, so they are without material reactions. This doesn't mean that there are no consequences though. Those who engage in spiritual activities throughout their lifetime and perform their prescribed duties with detachment will ascend to Kṛṣṇa's spiritual abode in the afterlife. One who goes to the eternal spiritual sky never has to take birth again.

So what constitutes spiritual activity? Anything done for the benefit of the Supreme Lord or one of His bona fide representatives can be considered activity in devotional service, or bhakti-yoga. Does this mean we simply have to abandon all activity and just sit in quiet meditation all day? On the contrary, we should continue to perform our prescribed duties, keeping God in mind throughout. This was the path taken by Rāma, on the advice of Lakṣmaṇa. Since Rāma is God Himself, naturally He is free from karma and its effects. His body is never material, nor are His activities. Nevertheless, Rāma was playing the part of a human being, so He wanted to set a good example for future generations on what the proper code of conduct is.

As a member of the warrior class, Rāma's duty was to provide protection to the innocent. This involves running government, punishing miscreants, and giving charity to the brāhmaṇas, or the priestly class. Being a warrior is not an easy job, for one must encounter ups and downs in life just like anyone else. Sītā's kidnap was certainly a low point in Rāma's life. He loved His wife very much. Yet at the same time, His prescribed duty was that of a protector, so it was incumbent upon Him to search after Sītā and punish her captor, the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa.

This was precisely the route Rāma would take. Sītā's rescue may or may not have happened on its own due to the system of karma. Yet there was no way for Rāma to achieve His desired result of Sītā's rescue without taking action. By undertaking an intense search for Sītā's whereabouts and taking on Rāvaṇa in battle, Rāma at least gave Himself a chance to see Sītā again, safe and sound. By the same token, we may or may not achieve our desired result of going back to Godhead in this lifetime through the taking up of devotional service. But at the same time, we can be rest assured that by sitting back and doing nothing, we will most certainly not achieve success in spiritual life. Therefore the choice is an obvious one. It is better to take matters into our own hands and choose action in spiritual life over inaction. By regularly chanting "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare", we can greatly increase our chances of reaching Kṛṣṇa's eternal abode after our life is over.

# Chapter 15 - The Cause of All Causes

"Unseen and indefinite are the good and bad reactions of fruitive work. And without taking action, the desired fruits of such work cannot manifest." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.17)

This one statement by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma, is so profound that there is no limit to the number of lessons one can derive or explanations one can give. This is the benefit of taking instruction from the highest authority, a pure devotee of God. In the Vedic tradition, Lord Rāma is considered an incarnation of Godhead who appeared on earth many thousands of years ago. His three brothers are also considered partial incarnations, thus Lakṣmaṇa is not only a devotee, but one who possesses divine qualities as well. One concept that this verse explains is that of cause and effect. There is a root cause for every event or result that we see. Though this may be hard to understand at first, a quick study of our own lives can help us better grasp the concept.

Let's take a home for example. In America, if one wants to buy a house they usually enlist the help of a real estate agent. This agent then takes prospective buyers from home to home, showing the ins and outs of the houses that are for sale. Each home buyer is looking for different things. Some want to have enough backyard space, some require multiple car driveways, while others need to have a minimum number of bedrooms. Owning a home is considered beneficial because unlike with renting, paying the mortgage on a home means you gradually take ownership of the house. After many many years of making payments, the home finally becomes yours, and thus your monthly expenses greatly diminish.

The downside of owning your own home is that you are now responsible for all the maintenance. Ask anyone who owns a home and they will tell you that managing it is a full-time affair. Problems with plumbing, roofing, water leaks, landscaping, etc. creep up all the time. There is no building manager you can call to help you out, for you are now responsible for everything. Just by examining the ins and outs of a house, we can learn so much. Though we work hard at our jobs to earn enough money to pay the rent or mortgage, the house actually doesn't get built with money alone. Houses don't just appear out of nowhere. It takes great work and detailed planning to get all the intricacies of the structure in place. The lawn in the front yard is the result of a person planting seeds and managing the growth of the grass. The pavement in the driveway is the result of someone putting down gravel and cement and making sure it was laid out smoothly. The bathrooms and kitchen result from laying down tile and making sure that pipes get put into the right places. The heating and cooling systems require intricate knowledge of the vents and ducts, etc.

As we can see, for everything that we enjoy in life, there is a root cause. This is the nature of action. In Vedic terminology, this system of cause and effect is known as karma. More than just handy work, karma is any fruitive activity performed which carries a material result, either good or bad. Not only is working on a house considered to be karmic activity, but so is just about everything else that we do. Getting up in the morning is karma. The result is that we are able to go about tackling the necessary tasks of the day. Even sleeping is fruitive work, for that allows us to rest and be refreshed for the day ahead.

Why is karma important to understand? Because not only does karma explain how physical objects around us are built, but it also points to how our current body was acquired. The Vedas tell us that our current life is certainly not the only one we've had. "You only live once" is a common saying, but it is not completely accurate. If we identify strictly with our current body, then it is indeed true that we only live once. Once death comes our bodies start to rot and decay. A corpse can never be revived or brought back to life due to the fact that the soul has exited the body.

Though the body is ultimately destroyed, the soul, which represents our true identity, never does. It immediately accepts a new body after death, signaling a new life or rebirth. So what determines where the soul will end up next? The answer is karma. Just as we currently make so many preparations for the future - such as where to go on vacation, what to eat for dinner, or where to attend college - in a similar manner, the sum total of all our activities performed over the course of our lifetime determines where the soul will end up after death.

Note: In the 6th verse of the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa states that whatever nature one remembers while quitting their body at the time of death, that state of being they will attain in the next life without fail.

Armed with these facts, we can gain a better understanding of how we ended up in our current predicament. As we can see, there is a root cause for every effect. Though we can see some of the effects of our current work, there are some effects that we can't see. This is because the activities of our past lives are forgotten. Yet this doesn't mean that activities weren't performed. We may have forgotten the events of each day that we spent in school as children, but those events certainly happened. They also resulted in our learning how to read, write, and do arithmetic. We would be hard pressed to remember a time when we didn't know how to speak, how to walk, or how to read. Yet we know from the statements of our parents that as young infants we were incapable of performing these tasks. But we ended up learning these things over the course of time, after we performed certain actions.

Just because the results of action aren't immediately visible, it doesn't mean that there aren't root causes to the effects that currently are visible. This concept helps us understand the the circumstances of our birth, which were determined by activities taken in previous lives. This is not a myth or a belief, but a scientific fact. In a similar manner, if we expand this thinking even further, we can see that everything in this world has a root cause. This is a belief shared by everyone, even the scientific community. Scientists have for centuries tried to study the history of the universe and how it came into being. Today, there is purportedly a consensus of scientists who believe that mankind has an effect over the climate of the earth. The belief is that through the activities performed by man, the ecology of the earth is altered, and thus the climate as a whole changes.

This line of thinking essentially puts man in charge of controlling nature. But at the same time, these same scientists believe that the universe was created through a massive explosion of chemicals. This is known as the Big Bang Theory, and it espouses the belief that randomness was the original cause of everything. Yet by studying the circumstances of our own lives, we see that it is work that is the cause of everything. The work we perform, along with the work performed by others, determines the events of our lives. Our current life is a result of the work performed during previous lives. At each step along the way, the impetus for performing said work lies with the individual.

The Vedas refer to a person as puruṣa, which means a controller, enjoyer, or spirit. Puruṣa is what forms the basis of our identity, for the gross body is prakṛti, or matter. Prakṛti is incapable of doing anything on its own; it is dull matter. For any activity to take place there must be puruṣa. Spirit always dominates matter. Thus the Big Bang Theory falls flat simply because matter itself has no energy or intelligence. Matter is incapable of performing work, so it cannot be the root cause of anything.

From Lakṣmaṇa's statement, we see that for any result to appear, either desired or undesired, work must be performed. Everything has a cause. If we traverse the chain of cause and effect all the way up, we will eventually reach an endpoint. This endpoint is not a series of chemicals which collide, but rather a person. This puruṣa is the greatest of all persons and is thus known as mahā-puruṣa. This person is none other than Lord Kṛṣṇa, or God.

"God" is a generic term which doesn't really speak much to the Supreme's features, attributes, and appearance. Therefore the Vedas give us thousands of names for God, each describing His limitless attributes and potencies. In His original form, however, God is known as Kṛṣṇa, meaning one who is all-attractive. Lord Kṛṣṇa is also described as sarva-kāraṇa-kāraṇam, the cause of all causes. As the greatest person, He is the original cause of everything. It is He who enters into the grand spiritual whole and causes life to be generated.

Note: In the 14th verse of the 4th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna, the son of Kuntī, that all forms of life in this world come from the supreme nature, Brahman, with Kṛṣṇa acting as the seed-giving father.

Why is it important to know that Kṛṣṇa is the cause of all causes? One who knows this fact will very quickly understand how all of nature works. There are so many different scientific departments today, each studying how various aspects of nature function and operate. Having knowledge of these things is certainly nice, but what does it do for us? On the other hand, people who know Kṛṣṇa will inherently understand how nature works, for they will see everything as it relates to God. If we fail to understand the cause of all causes, we will always remain in illusion. We will be able to understand cause and effect on a micro level, but we will nonetheless remain in the dark.

The real benefit of understanding that Kṛṣṇa is the cause of all causes is that we will realize that our life is meant for serving Him. Currently we believe that we are the doers; we are the cause of all the good and bad things that come to us. This is true in some respects, but at the same time, we see that other living entities play a role as well. They too are performing activities and serving as the cause of various results. When these activities collide, what results is a jumbled mess of outcomes which are hard to predict and control. Therefore the wise take to devotional service, or bhakti-yoga.

Devotional service involves activities performed for the benefit of Kṛṣṇa. Instead of working for our own rewards, we work towards pleasing the Supreme Lord. This service can involve hearing, reading, smelling flowers, offering food, or even talking about Kṛṣṇa. The most effective method, however, is the congregational chanting of the holy names, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". The beauty of devotional service is that it is above karma. When we engage in fruitive activity, we are preparing our next body, which will surely be a material one. But since Kṛṣṇa is the supreme spirit, someone above karma, working to please Him means that we will be preparing a spiritual body for ourselves in the afterlife. Once we get this spiritual body, we'll immediately be taken to Kṛṣṇa's spiritual abode, where we will never have to deal with karma again.

Though the rewards of fruitive activity are unseen and short-lived, they nevertheless require some work to be performed. Fruits don't grow on their own; they require the actions of planting, watering, and maintaining. In a similar manner, we can't achieve the ultimate reward of spiritual salvation without performing spiritual work. If we work hard in devotional service, the results will surely come.

# Chapter 16 - Carpe Diem

"Unseen and indefinite are the good and bad reactions of fruitive work. And without taking action, the desired fruits of such work cannot manifest." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.17)

Carpe diem is a popular Latin phrase meaning "seize the day". This saying has been famous for a long time and was given special attention in the movie, Dead Poets Society. The idea behind the saying is pretty straightforward: seize the day, go for it, just do it, you'll never win if you never try. A similar slogan was used by the New York State Lottery commission many years back, "Hey, you never know", as a way to entice people to try their hand at winning millions of dollars in the lottery. Though these slogans generally apply to material endeavors, they can also prove to be very beneficial in spiritual life.

The first question we should ask is why we need such slogans in the first place. Why do people need to be reminded to seize the day or to take chances? The reason is that most of us aren't self-starters. We all have different desires, but true passion itself is hard to come by. We need someone to motivate and guide us. For example, if it weren't for our parents forcing us to attend school in our youth, we probably never would have gotten an education. If it weren't for our bosses requiring us to come into work on time, we probably wouldn't be very productive. This shows that we have an inherent penchant for procrastination; putting the important things off until later.

One of the primary reasons for this behavior is the fear of failing. Once we start a task, there is all the chance in the world that it won't come out successful. For example, in our youth we had many projects, term papers, and other reports due in school. Most students wait until the last minute to begin these projects because they are very time consuming. There is a lot of pressure that goes with these assignments also, for writing a long paper is not an easy thing to do. One must come up with a central theme, perform the necessary research, and then actually put all the thoughts and ideas together into words and sentences.

What if we are unable to even think of an idea? What if we stare at our computer screen, or typewriter in the olden days, and just come up blank? What will we do? There is nothing worse than failing an assignment, for it means that we were incapable of successfully completing something that our fellow classmates were able to do. This fear of failure can be crippling, and it is the primary reason that we wait until the last moments before we actually begin our tasks. Again, the reasoning behind this is pretty obvious. If we don't try, or if we wait until later on to try, we don't put ourselves out on the line; the chance to fail is eliminated or at least tabled.

Through logic and reasoning, we see that avoiding activity simply due to fear of failing is not a good thing. Let's take driving for example. The first time we get behind a wheel is certainly a tense situation. Driving an automobile is a serious business, and the consequences of making a mistake while driving are much worse than if we fall off our bicycles. Yet at the same time, if we never take up driving due to this fear, we severely hamper our mobility. In the future, we eliminate ourselves from the running for any jobs that require us to travel by car. We will be forced to live in cities, even if we don't want to. Also, if we ever get married and have children, we will have no way of transporting our dependents anywhere. We will always have to rely on others to take us places, and this dependence can dampen our spirits and our morale.

Though failing certainly isn't good in the short term, we see that it is necessary in order for us to make advancement in life. We can learn from our mistakes. Moreover, simply being afraid of failure is not reason enough to avoid activity. It is much wiser to take action and not worry about the consequences. "Abandon all attachment to winning and losing and do what's right. Carpe diem baby!" This was the lesson taught by Lakṣmaṇa, the divine expansion of Lord Viṣṇu and younger brother of Lord Rāma, an incarnation of the Supreme Personality of Godhead.

Many thousands of years ago during the Tretā Yuga, the Supreme Divine Entity appeared on earth in human form as Lord Rāma. Some will take such statements to be mere mythology or some sectarian belief. There is no doubt that the Vedas, the scriptures emanating from India, are the oldest set of law codes in existence. Originally passed down through aural reception, the Vedas were later put into written word in Sanskrit, which is the oldest language in existence. Though the Vedas come from India, the facts contained within are meant to enlighten every single person on earth. Vedic information states that God is one, but that He appears on earth from time to time for various reasons.

Lord Rāma, the handsome and pious prince of Ayodhyā, is one of God's primary incarnations. Mental speculators and philosophers will theorize that Rāma must have been a great personality who was later taken to be God by the people of the time. "They must have turned Rāma into God, for they didn't know any better." This sort of thinking seems plausible except for the fact that no one can become God. God is always God; there never was a time when He wasn't God, nor will there be a time in the future when He stops being God. From Vedic information we understand that Rāma was God before He came to earth and that He continues to be God even though He returned to the spiritual world.

Note: In the 264th verse of the 20th chapter of the Madhya-līlā of Śrī Caitanya Caritāmṛta, it is said that all the expansions of the Lord perpetually reside in the spiritual sky, but when they descend to the material universe, they are referred to by the name "avatāra".

An incarnation of God is referred to as an avatāra in Sanskrit, meaning one who descends. This is important terminology because we see that "descends" means something completely different than "becomes". An avatāra descends from the spiritual world, so Lord Rāma never actually took birth or suffered through death. An avatāra exists eternally; the only distinction from our point of view is that the avatāras usually remain in the spiritual world. When they kindly appear on earth is when we pay attention.

As Lord Rāma, God came to earth for specific purposes, the most important of which was to personally kill the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. It was important for Rāma to kill Rāvaṇa because the demon had wreaked havoc throughout the world. The demigods, or elevated living entities, were afraid of Rāvaṇa and could not defeat him in battle. This happens from time to time, for we see that the demons in the world sometimes rise to prominent positions of power. Their time in the spotlight is limited, however, as we saw with leaders such as Hitler and Mussolini. Usually the forces of nature take care of these miscreants, but for special cases, divine intervention is required.

So Rāma came to kill Rāvaṇa. At the same time, He wanted to set a good example for everyone else to follow. Rāvaṇa was committed to adharma, or irreligion, thus Rāma wanted to show what real dharma was. As the eldest son of a king, Rāma displayed exemplary behavior. He was chivalrous, kind, sweet, charitable, and most of all, brave and courageous in clashes with the demons. He never backed down from a fight, as is the code of conduct for kṣatriyas, or those belonging to the warrior caste. On one occasion, Rāma easily killed 14,000 of Rāvaṇa's associates in battle. Because of this defeat, Rāvaṇa hatched up a scheme whereby he was able to kidnap Rāma's beautiful wife, Sītā Devī, while both Rāma and His younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa, were not around to protect her.

When Rāma found out that Sītā was missing, He gave way to lamentation and anger. He was very attached to Sītā, who was the incarnation of the Lord's eternal pleasure potency. Though God is one, He doesn't enjoy alone. Just as we tend to enjoy things more when friends and family are around, so the Lord derives the most pleasure when He is in the company of His devotees. This is actually the reason behind our existence, i.e. to realize that we are God's eternal loving servants and that true happiness can only be found through direct association with Him. Since Sītā was a perfect devotee, she couldn't live without Rāma and the same held true for the Lord. With Sītā gone, Rāma felt as though the wind had come out of His sails. As strong and perseverant as He was, this one setback really got to Him.

At this moment, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in to offer some sound words of advice. He reminded Rāma that good and bad things come on their own to even the most pious of people, and that the wise don't let this get them down. Rāma actually didn't need this advice since He was God, but at the same time, He was playing the role of a human being. "To ere is human", so every now and then Rāma showed signs of imperfection. We shouldn't take this to mean that God is capable of committing mistakes, for that is not the case. The Vedas tell us that the Lord's original form is that of Śrī Kṛṣṇa, whose many names include Acyuta, which means one who never falls down.

In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa is reiterating a well-known Vedic tenet relating to karma. Every action that we perform on a material level has a commensurate reaction. Sometimes we don't see these reactions, or they are short-lived in nature. Thus it is also difficult to determine whether a particular activity is pious or sinful, for the complete scope of the fruits of such action are unknown. Regardless of when the fruits of our work manifest, it is an undeniable fact that action is the root cause of such fruits. In simpler terms, if you want something, you have to work for it. That is essentially what Lakṣmaṇa is saying. "You may or may not get what You want, but You can be rest assured that nothing will happen unless some action is taken by someone. Knowing these facts, it is better for You to shake this incident off and resume Your search for Sītā."

This one statement by Lakṣmaṇa is so beautiful and profound that one can study it over and over again and take away new lessons each time. Rāma very much appreciated Lakṣmaṇa's words of advice. The two brothers loved each other very much, so there was never any animosity between them. God is the all-knowing and all-powerful. He is most certainly capable of imparting words of wisdom to others, as He did at the beginning of creation to Lord Brahmā and also on the battlefield of Kurukṣetra to Arjuna. But one of the nice things about being God is that You don't need to show off. This is what it means to be atmarama, or self-satisfied. The Lord is much happier seeing His devotee glorified, so He takes every opportunity He can to create just the right situations where they can shine. This incident with Lakṣmaṇa was one such situation. Lakṣmaṇa's teachings were spot on, and just like a humble devotee, he reminded Rāma at the end that he had originally heard these teachings from Him.

What we can take away from these teachings is that there is no reason to sit back on the sidelines and hope for success in life. Moreover, success and failure in material endeavors come on their own through our own karma and the karma of others, so it is more important to seize the day when it comes to spiritual life. After all, the benefit of human life is that we have the ability to learn about the Supreme Spirit. Yet just like with other endeavors, there is an inherent fear there. "What if I take up dharma, or yoga, or whatever it's called, and don't succeed? Won't I have wasted my time?"

This is the beauty of the highest form of dharma known as devotional service, or bhāgavata-dharma. If we take a chance and play the lottery, it is highly improbable that we will win. In other ventures, such as starting a business or taking up a new occupation, the chances of failing are also quite high. While it is certainly good to take action and try, if we fail in these endeavors, we don't really come away with much. Maybe our work ethic improves or we learn how to deal with pressure, but we are still left with failure.

This principle doesn't hold true with devotional service. Say that we muster up the courage to sincerely take up devotional service. We start chanting "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare" at least sixteen rounds a day on a set of japa beads and also abide by the four regulative principles of abstention from meat eating, gambling, illicit sex, and intoxication. After all of this, somehow or other, we fall back down. Either we stop chanting as many rounds or our interests shift elsewhere. Let's say that we aren't able to correct things by the time our life ends. Does this mean that our efforts went to waste?

No. As Lord Kṛṣṇa clearly states in the Bhagavad-gītā, there is no loss in performing devotional service. In our next life, we get to start back up again right from where we left off. We see that some children have the great fortune of growing up as devotees. Either they take birth in a family of Vaiṣṇavas or they are introduced to Kṛṣṇa early on in life, and they remain devotees throughout. These situations are not accidental; it surely means that there was some level of devotional service performed in the previous life. The lesson here is that we have no excuse not to take up service to God, even if it is only at an immature level. We should remember that we'll never succeed unless we take action. Seizing the day means taking control. And hey, you never know, you just might end up going back home, back to Godhead.

# Chapter 17 - Cause and Effect

"Unseen and indefinite are the good and bad reactions of fruitive work. And without taking action, the desired fruits of such work cannot manifest." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.17)

One of the unique aspects to the spiritual discipline known as bhakti-yoga is that desire is not eliminated. Generally in any advanced spiritual discipline, the two concepts of jñāna and vairāgya, knowledge and renunciation, are put at the forefront. Knowledge relates to information about the soul, its nature, and its future destination. Vairāgya refers to detachment from the demands of the senses. In either case, the issue of desire is not usually broached. If it is brought up at all, it is portrayed in a negative light. Desire is seen as a harmful thing; something which causes the innocent spirit soul to be led off course. The path towards salvation can be thought of in terms of a ship sailing off to sea. The demands of the senses represented by desire, or kāma, can be thought of as the light of a golden treasure which pulls the ship off course. Since desire diverts a person from their intended destination, it is seen as something that needs to be quelled or at least controlled. But according to the highest authorities, those who have realized the ultimate transcendental pleasure in life, desire is something that needs to be purified rather than eliminated. When our desires are pointed towards the proper destination, both the good and bad effects of the senses can be transcended.

Note: In the 3rd verse of the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, states that the living entity, who is indestructible and transcendental, is known as Brahman and his eternal nature known as the self. Any activity which leads to the further development of the bodies of living entities is known as karma.

Our desires drive us towards activity. In Vedic terminology, there is no equivalent word for "work". The closest matching term is karma. But this term has much more meaning than ordinary work. Karma is any activity that leads to the further development of the material body, the outer covering of the soul. Karma is the system of cause and effect, with each action having a commensurate reaction. The reactions may be visible or invisible, foreseen or unforeseen. In addition, the development that results from such action may last for a very short period of time or for a very long time. In this way, we see that it is difficult to accurately judge whether a particular activity is pious or sinful. Sinful activities are those deemed to bring about negative reactions. Pious activities are intended to bring about favorable conditions. Since the reactions aren't always visible, it's tough to tell if an activity is worth performing. In addition, the reaction itself may be short-lived, thus adding a quantitative element to the piety or sinfulness of a particular activity.

A few examples can help us understand this concept more clearly. Telling the truth is generally equated with piety. Honesty is a virtue, so it is usually a good idea to tell the truth. Going back to the definition of karma, a pious act is something that results in a favorable condition at some point in the future. Thus telling the truth is meant to lead to a positive development of the material body. Honesty is considered an activity in the mode of goodness, or sattva-guṇa. According to Vedic information, those who live primarily in this mode ascend to the heavenly planets after their current life is over. To reside on a heavenly planet, one must possess a heavenly body. Possessing a heavenly body equates to heavenly enjoyment, and so on. Since increased enjoyment is seen as a favorable benefit, pious activities are recommended.

Yet if we closely study the issue of honesty, we'll see that it's not always easy to gauge whether telling the truth is the right course of action. If someone asks us about the nature of the soul, its constitutional position, and what activities will make it happy, honesty is surely the best policy. By telling the truth about Kṛṣṇa, or God, and the soul's intimate relationship with Him, we can help the inquisitive achieve transcendental perfection in life.

Let's take another situation though. This situation occurs quite frequently and has thus formed the basis of much stereotypical male-female humor. It is quite common for a wife to ask the opinion of her husband in regards to an outfit she intends to wear. The question usually is phrased in this way: "Does this dress make me look fat?" Now what would the result be if the husband answered the question honestly, supposing that the dress did indeed serve to highlight the appearance of some rather unpleasant fatty areas on the body of the wife? Surely the wife would get offended if the husband told her the dress made her look fat. Her spirits would be dampened, she would feel unattractive, and she would surely be upset with the husband. There is a famous piece of advice given to men who have just gotten married: "If she ain't happy, you ain't happy." By telling the wife that the dress makes her look fat, the husband makes the wife unhappy, and in turn has also made himself unhappy.

There are other more serious situations where lying is preferable. Say for instance that a child asks us something relating to adult matters. A child does not have the intelligence to understand grown up affairs, so it would be silly to answer all of their questions honestly. In these cases, and many others as well, it is better to lie than to tell the truth. Again, the issue boils down to the result. Depending on the scope of action, and our intended result, a particular activity may be beneficial or harmful. For example, stealing is considered sinful, but if we were to take away drugs and alcohol from an addict, surely such theft would lead to a positive result in the future. In this way, we see that piety and sin are relative. An action may be considered pious in one situation, but sinful in another. Since it is not easy to always foretell the end-result, deciding on the proper course of action becomes difficult.

Regardless of the situation or the nature of the activity, for the desired result to be achieved, one must take action. This was the point stressed by Śrī Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. In the Vedic tradition, the Supreme Personality of Godhead is taken as one who kindly descends to earth from time to time. Every living entity can be considered God's child, and therefore the elevated souls, those who are devotees of God, can surely help the conditioned souls, their brothers and sisters, get reacquainted with spiritual life. Nevertheless, under special circumstances, the Almighty Divine Entity, God Himself, decides to make a personal appearance on earth.

For an ordinary soul, appearing in the material world requires the assumption of a dress composed of material elements. Our body can be thought of as a spacesuit. In order for a human being to survive in the atmosphere of outer space, a special kind of outfit is required, something which will allow the living entity to keep its vital force intact. In a similar manner, the purified spirit soul, who is part and parcel of God, needs a suitable body in order to reside on a particular planet. On planet earth, there are up to 8,400,000 different outfits a soul can acquire, each tailored to the performance of specific activities.

The uniqueness of the human body lies in the area of intelligence. In the body of a human being, the spirit soul can take to activities of intelligence, guided by the highest knowledge. This purified activity can lead to a change in consciousness, a condition which allows the soul to eventually return to its original home in the spiritual sky alongside God. While the jīva [individual] souls require an outer material covering to come to earth, the Supreme Lord doesn't. Since matter was created by God, it can never affect Him in the same way that it does us. Therefore the bodies of His various incarnations, such as that of Lord Rāma's, remain completely spiritual. For God, there is no difference between body and spirit.

Rāma performed many wonderful pastimes during His years on earth. On one particularly troubling occasion, He gave way to lamentation. His beautiful and chaste wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped and taken to an island kingdom of Lanka by a demon named Rāvaṇa. Losing one's beloved is surely the most dreadful experience for any person. In Rāma's case, He was an expert warrior and was thus tasked with providing protection to the innocent. If He couldn't protect His wife who was by His side, how good was His protection to begin with? These are the thoughts that went through His mind after Sītā's kidnap.

Fortunately, Rāma's younger brother Lakṣmaṇa was by His side. Lakṣmaṇa was essentially a twin copy of Rāma, except that his bodily complexion was fair while Rāma's was dark. Lakṣmaṇa took service to Rāma to be his only dharma in life. He listened to all the instructions that Rāma gave Him during their youth. Like a good disciple, Lakṣmaṇa picked the perfect time to show his brother what he had learned. When Rāma needed him most, Lakṣmaṇa was there.

In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa is reminding Rāma of the nature of fruitive activity. In the first part of his statement, Lakṣmaṇa says that it is difficult to ascertain whether a particular activity is sinful or pious. This is because the reactions of fruitive work don't remain forever. Since the material world is one that is constantly changing, no situation can remain in place indefinitely. Pious activities lead to favorable results and sinful activities lead to unfavorable results, but in either case the reactions are difficult to see. Sometimes we think a particular activity is pious, but there are so many other unintended consequences that are associated. Karma can be thought of as a giant neural network of cause and effect, with the outcomes, represented by the reactions of work, colliding with one another. No one can make due of this jumbled mess except the Supreme Lord Himself.

Even with this uncertainty relating to karma, Lakṣmaṇa states that it is not possible for one to achieve their desired results without action being taken. This action doesn't necessarily have to be taken by the individual seeking the result. Often times, things come to us of their own accord. In reality though, our good fortune is merely the result of activities undertaken in previous lives and also activities performed by other living entities. This supports Lakṣmaṇa's argument. A result cannot be achieved without action. Therefore Lakṣmaṇa is advising Rāma to take the necessary steps to find and rescue Sītā. Without someone taking this action, Sītā's rescue would never happen. Lord Rāma would heed this wonderful advice and eventually find and rescue Sītā, thus reuniting with His beloved.

Note: In the 33rd verse of the 3rd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa states that even a man who is in knowledge takes to activities guided by his own nature, for every individual follows the dictates of the three modes of material nature. Therefore, what can repression really do?

So what does this information pertaining to action mean for us? Vedic information states that the highest spiritual discipline is known as bhakti-yoga, or devotional service. This discipline is unique because desire is indeed recognized and made use of. We should notice that Lakṣmaṇa didn't discount the issue of desire in his teachings. He first reminded Rāma of the uncertain nature of fruitive activity. But then he reiterated the fact that one's desires can only be achieved through action. Herein lies the secret to bhakti-yoga. The spirit soul is always full of desire. Simple repression cannot take away the seeds of desire, the need to be happy. The discipline of devotional service calls for the purification of desire instead of its suppression. Desire is the result of a longing for a particular object or condition. When this condition relates to the material body, which includes the senses, the desire is considered polluted. When the intended favorable condition is that of God's satisfaction, the desire is considered purified.

How can God be satisfied? Again, we can look to the example of Lakṣmaṇa. Sītā was kidnapped while residing in the forest with Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa. Lord Rāma was only in the forest because of a request made by His father, the King of Ayodhyā. Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā were not requested to go to the forest, so they had no reason to be there. But since they loved Rāma so much, they refused to remain in the kingdom alone. For Rāma's satisfaction, they insisted on accompanying the Lord for the duration of His fourteen years of exile in the forest. Many others wanted to go with Rāma, but they weren't given the opportunity. Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā, through their pure devotion which manifested in tears of love, forced Rāma to take them with Him. Goswami Tulsidas references this fact in his Dohavali. He states that Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa were so purified that they were able to accompany Rāma, while the other citizens were not. For Lord Rāma to allow this, He must have derived great pleasure from their company. This is actually a fact. No one can give more pleasure to the Lord than Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa can.

This means that the Lord is capable of being pleased, provided that one's heart is pure. The Lord can only be pleased through acts of devotion. Simply acquiring wisdom or taking to renunciation is not enough. All other aspects of spiritual life are supplementary to the practice of devotional service in pure love. If we view God as the Supreme Enjoyer, all of our desires will be purified. Through God's enjoyment, our transcendental senses also become satisfied. Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa were never happier than when they were in Rāma's company. We too can forever remain focused on the Lord's transcendental, love-evoking form by regularly chanting His names, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". This is the quintessential activity of bhakti-yoga. The enjoyer in this cause and effect system is the Supreme Lord. The cause is the transcendental sound vibration uttered by the surrendered soul. The result is the satisfaction of the Supreme Lord and anyone else within earshot of such chanting. Since the Supreme Lord will be satisfied, the ultimate favorable condition is met. In such a system, sin and piety do not play a role. The good and bad are tossed aside since the Supreme Pure is immediately reached.

# Chapter 18 - Making Someday Come Soon

"Unseen and indefinite are the good and bad reactions of fruitive work. And without taking action, the desired fruits of such work cannot manifest." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.17)

When we want something really badly, we have the inherent hope that someday we will get it. This hope especially applies to the area of romantic love. If we see a friend getting married or a fellow loved one meeting the person of their dreams, we naturally start to examine our own life's situation. "When will I meet the person who fills my heart with pure joy?" Our friends and family members often will respond by telling us not to worry and that someday, eventually everything will work out. "You'll meet someone, don't worry." This same positive attitude is conveyed to people suffering from depression and ill-luck. All of us at some point in our lives have been told not to worry, for events would fall into place for us eventually.

While this positive attitude is nice, it is better if we take the matter into our own hands. If we take action ourselves, we are more likely to get what we want. Other people aren't mind-readers after all, so they don't know what we want or what we like. We have to tell people, and in the same manner, if we really want something, we have to convince ourselves that it is necessary to take action in order to be successful. From studying life around us, we can see that everything happens because of action. Houses are built, books are written, food is prepared, people are transported, etc., all through the action of man. In Sanskrit, this is known as human effort, or pauruṣam. This word is derived from puruṣa, which means spirit or life. We know that stone and dirt are considered dull matter, while trees, plants, and flowers are considered forms of life. The difference between these entities is the existence of spirit, or puruṣa.

In a similar manner, we human beings are all puruṣa, for we all have a spirit soul residing within us. This soul is the driving force of our actions; in the absence of the soul, the body is useless. If there is no soul within a body, it is known as a corpse, or a body which is in a dead state. Puruṣa is what makes things happen. It controls our speech, our bodily motions, and even our mental outlook. Even activities that we consider involuntary, such as breathing, the beating of the heart, and blinking, are all driven by the spirit soul.

Just as the spirit soul drives the car known as the body, there is a giant soul which causes nature to function. Rain, excessive heat, snow storms, etc., don't just happen on their own. As previously mentioned, matter is dull by itself, so it can't do anything without the intervention of pauruṣam. Nature too needs a driving force, which it kindly gets from the greatest puruṣa. This person, or spirit, is God.

Note: In the 10th verse of the 9th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that the material nature is working under His superintendence, creating all moving and nonmoving beings with each cycle of creation.

So we see that God makes everything happen in nature and that living entities are the cause of life's other events. Thus one might be led to believe that personal action is not required. "It seems like everyone else is taking care of everything. It is probably better for me to just sit back and do nothing; just wait for things to fall into place." This attitude makes sense in many situations, for there is action in inaction. For example, many times it is better to walk away from an argument than to actually engage in fisticuffs. Sometimes not doing something is better than doing something since action can get us entangled into many unwanted activities.

An example of this principle can be seen with the cellular telephone. In days past, there were no mobile phones, so if we had to call anybody, we had to use the phone in our own home or a public phone. The downside to this was that it was difficult to get a hold of people during emergencies. The cell phone seemed like a great invention; you could now carry around a telephone with you wherever you went. These phones can now support text messaging, internet browsing, game play, picture taking, and even the listening of music. This all seems well and good, but let's examine some of the downsides to buying a cell phone. At the time of purchase, one incurs a new monthly expenditure in order to maintain service on the phone. One also needs a charger on hand, a computer to transfer data onto the phone, a hands-free device to use the phone while driving, and many other gadgets and accessories. We now also run into other people who love to talk on their phone while in public. Many people find this behavior rude and annoying. The phone can also now ring at any time of any day. This means that something that was intended to help us with emergencies now can become a great burden.

So there are certainly situations in life where inaction is beneficial. However, to get what we want, some action needs to take place, even if it's not from us. For things to "fall into place" per se, human action is required to drop those pieces into their appropriate locations. We can examine the arena of romantic love to see this principle in practice. When two people meet up and fall in love, they like to believe that fate brought them together, and that it was all destined to happen. By some great chance, they were able to meet each other at just the right time in their lives, and were it not for this fortunate occasion, they may never have found true love. But if we examine the situation, we'll see that it took more than just dumb luck for the pieces to fall into place. Action had to take place, even if both parties weren't aware of it. For any two people to meet, they must take the necessary steps to be at the proper place, at the proper time. Even if one person sits back and does nothing, there is still the requirement that others perform some type of action; otherwise nothing would happen. Also in romantic relationships, there must be a first move made. Either the boy chases the girl or the girl chases the boy, and eventually one of them will make the first romantic gesture. This is another example of human effort.

One of the downsides to going after what you want is that you could fail. Failure doesn't feel good at all, and repeated failed attempts can make even the strongest person weary to put forth any more effort. The Vedas, the original set of law codes passed down by the Supreme Divine Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa, tell us not to worry about temporary setbacks, for all good and bad things come on their own. Rather, it is important to forge ahead with our prescribed duties, performing those actions which are necessary to keep us on the righteous path. This sentiment was reiterated by the great kṣatriya warrior and younger brother of Lord Rāma, Lakṣmaṇa.

During the Tretā Yuga, Lord Kṛṣṇa appeared on earth in the guise of a human being named Rāma for the purposes of enacting pastimes and killing demons. On one occasion, Sītā Devī, Rāma's beautiful and chaste wife, was kidnapped while residing in the forest with her husband and Lakṣmaṇa. The demon Rāvaṇa took her away while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were not there to protect her. Upon returning to His cottage, Rāma found that Sītā was not there and He immediately began to lament. After searching for a while, Rāma seemed to give up and was ready to destroy the whole world out of anger. Lakṣmaṇa, being the ever well-wisher of his elder brother, stepped in at this point and offered some sound words of advice.

In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is referencing several key Vedic tenets. As a pure devotee of God, Lakṣmaṇa was very smart, so he had perfect knowledge of cause and effect and the nature of the rewards of action. He states that the fruits of action are unseen and short-lived. This touches on the issue of personal inaction. If we sit idly by and wait for things to happen to us, it means that we are awaiting the results of our past deeds. Karma refers to any action which has a fruitive result attached to it. We perform so many activities in the course of our lifetime that we have no idea just how many things come as a result. Not only do we not know the nature of these fruits, but we don't know when they will come or how long they will last.

By studying this one portion alone, one may be misled into thinking that Lakṣmaṇa is advising Rāma to do nothing. "You have performed so many great deeds in the past and You don't know when the rewards for such action will come. Therefore it is better to just sit quietly and wait to see if Sītā comes back." Actually this is not what Lakṣmaṇa is advising. In the second part of his statement, Lakṣmaṇa makes mention of the fact that even though the results of our actions aren't visible, it doesn't mean that they come on their own. In order for there to be results, there must be some work performed as the cause. Essentially Lakṣmaṇa is saying that in order to get what we want, i.e. desired fruitive results, someone needs to take action. Since someone needs to perform work, it might as well be us, provided that we have the power to do so.

Lord Rāma very much appreciated this advice from His younger brother. Lord Rāma, being God Himself and a great kṣatriya warrior, was more than capable of taking action. Thus He chose the path recommended by Lakṣmaṇa. Rāma would eventually compose Himself and resume His search for Sītā. After enlisting the help of the Vānara army, headed by the great Hanumān, Rāma would march to Rāvaṇa's island kingdom of Lanka, defeat him in battle, and rescue Sītā. His choice to act benefitted Him in the end; He was able to get what He wanted, i.e. the safe return of His wife.

When we take action, there is no guarantee that our efforts will come out successful. There is certainly the chance that the rewards of our action won't come until later on in life, or even maybe in the next life. This is the nature of karma, for material rewards are flickering, and the enjoyment derived from them is temporary. This is why Lakṣmaṇa's words of advice actually apply more to spiritual life than material life. He didn't just instruct Rāma to take up ordinary activity, but rather to remain dedicated to the path of dharma. Dharma can be defined as one's occupational duty; that quality that defines a person's existence. Rāma was the son of a great king, thus His duty was to provide protection to the rest of society. Also as a husband, He was required to protect His wife at all times. Thus Lakṣmaṇa simply recommended that Rāma remain on the path of dharma and not worry about loss or gain.

In a similar manner, we all have a dharma, an essential characteristic that is maintained through prescribed actions. This occupational duty is not the gratification of our senses, nor is it the accumulation of great wealth. Dharma is something that eternally exists, thus its target cannot be something as temporary and mutable as matter. Since we are puruṣa, it is spirit which defines our existence. But this spirit isn't meant to remain by itself, forced to suffer through life after life alone. Our dharma, or eternally existing quality, is that we are meant to be plus one. When people send out wedding invitations, there is a box to check if you are bringing a guest. "Plus one" is marked on the invitation card, letting the host know that you will be bringing another person with you to the wedding. In a similar manner, we are all originally plus one, but we have forgotten this fact.

Who is that "one" that is with us? God. He is our eternal companion. Even in our current state, God is with us, residing side by side in our heart as the Paramātmā, or Supersoul. Our eternal occupation, that thing which defines us, is our relationship to this "plus one". The evolution of the soul, transmigration from one body to another, is the process by which we can someday come into contact with God. The human form of life is considered the best opportunity to make someday come soon because the human brain has the intelligence capacity to realize who God is and what its relationship with Him should be.

In order to reconnect with our long-lost friend, we must take action. We may or may not have performed pious deeds in the past, but that in and of itself won't take us to the promise land. We must take spiritual action, dedicating ourselves to performing activities which will elevate our consciousness to the spiritual platform. That discipline is known as bhakti-yoga, or devotional service. Simply by chanting God's transcendental names, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare", we can say hello to the reservoir of pleasure, Lord Kṛṣṇa. Taking this route is much better than sitting idly by and hoping for things to work out in the end. Just a little sincere effort from our part will be enough to set the wheels in motion. Chanting Hare Kṛṣṇa means openly declaring to the Lord that we want Him in our lives and that we will settle for nothing less. As our eternal companion, He will surely hear us and give us the transcendental happiness we so desperately crave.

# Chapter 19 - Up Up Up

"Unseen and indefinite are the good and bad reactions of fruitive work. And without taking action, the desired fruits of such work cannot manifest." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.17)

No matter how hard we try to remain optimistic, there are bound to be certain times when our moods can turn sour. Encountering a rude person, getting into an argument with a friend or family member, or simply forgetting to do something - these are all things that can get us down. If prior to taking a trip, we forget to fill up on gasoline, we'll have to suffer the consequences later on. We don't usually make this sort of transgression, so the mistake is depressing in a sense. "How could I forget to do something as simple as that?" Though these things can get us down, the wise know how to persevere and forge ahead with the tasks at hand. These people can even go one step further by taking the necessary actions to improve their condition, in essence lifting their moods up. No matter how down we may be, there are always ways to get up.

One of the primary reasons we can get down so quickly is that there is little consistency in life. It takes forgetting to do a task just one time to get us in a bad mood. We can perform the same task 99 straight times, but it is that one miss that can cost us dearly. Essentially we feel that there is no excuse for forgetting to do simple things, so we beat ourselves up over it when it happens. This phenomenon can be seen in the sport of tennis. Tennis players are notorious for their temper tantrums, which usually involve yelling, screaming, and the throwing of the racket. Now obviously the racket is not to blame for bad play, for it is an inanimate object, incapable of acting on its own. Yet when a player feels frustration, he or she must take it out on something, with the racket being the easiest target.

Frustration in tennis is justifiable. On the professional level, players are excellent ball-strikers, so they can hit the shot they want to almost all the time. For recreational players, just maintaining a steady rally of at least ten strokes is very difficult. This is because it takes not only ball striking ability, but great hand-eye coordination, timing, and body positioning to hit a tennis ball properly. For professional players, however, keeping a rally going in practice is not difficult at all. At most major tournaments, fans are allowed in for free on the days immediately preceding the start of competition. It is during these times that players come out and practice with each other, sometimes even playing practice sets. Fans can get up close and see how their favorite players spend their practice time.

What fans see is that players can keep rallies going for up to one hundred shots. This is because they are tennis players by trade, so they have tremendous ball-striking abilities. Yet every now and then a player will make a mistake. It is at these moments that frustration can kick in. One can easily guess what the thoughts are in the player's mind. "I hit the ball correctly every single shot, but why did I miss that one? This is ridiculous. I should be playing better than this. There is no excuse for my missing that shot." A player only needs to think this way once in order to get the ball rolling so to speak. The next time an error comes, the anger increases, eventually boiling over into rage, and ending in the racket toss.

Note: In the 62nd verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that when one contemplates the objects of the senses, attachment starts to develop. From attachment springs lust [kāma], and from lust anger manifests.

You don't have to be a professional tennis player to feel this level of frustration. Even school children have to suffer through loss and defeat every now and then. In our elementary school days, there was one particular incident which illustrates this principle. One year we had a teacher who would hand out a "Student of the Week" award to whichever student she felt was deserving of it for that particular week. Elementary school students are no strangers to homework, for there are assignments in almost every subject that are due every day. The Student of the Week Award was to be given out every Friday, and one particular week, the inaugural week of the award in fact, we had a hunch that we might win it. We performed well in that particular class, were always on good behavior, and made sure to always do our assignments. At the end of the last day of the week, Friday, it came time to hand in a specific homework assignment. Unfortunately, we had forgotten to do this particular assignment. All the other homework was done, just this one piece was forgotten; a mental slip up. When the teacher found out about this, she told the entire class that she couldn't give the Student of the Week award to someone who doesn't do their homework. Thus she tore up the award, which had our name previously filled in, in front of the entire classroom.

Obviously as an impressionable child, we were quite devastated from this incident. The fault was not the teacher's, for there was no excuse for our not completing the assignment. So we see that even if we try our hardest, we are bound to make mistakes from time to time, even for the simplest things. Whether one is a famous athlete or an elementary school student, no one is immune from committing mistakes. To ere is human after all, and the Vedas even tell us that one of man's four defects is his propensity to commit mistakes. The issue of importance, however, is how we react to our failures. Do we let setbacks get us down permanently, or do we rise back up and fight on? This was the issue addressed by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma, many thousands of years ago.

Man is fallible but God is not, thus one of His many names is Acyuta, meaning one who doesn't fall down. Though God automatically acquires this characteristic based on His nature, He is kind enough to appear on earth from time to time and commit mistakes. By giving the appearance of fallibility, the Lord empathizes with the living entities and also allows them to foster an attachment to Him. By default, we should all love God simply for who He is. He is the Supreme Controller, the ever well-wisher. There is no reason to forget Him or neglect worshiping Him. Nevertheless, we are in the material world, which means we become illusioned by the forces of māyā. Māyā has many powers, but her greatest effect on us is that she makes us think that we are God. Māyā tricks us into thinking that if we make just the right material adjustments, we can be completely happy.

Obviously this is not possible, because spirit is superior to matter. If we simply associate with matter, we are bound to meet with disappointment in the end, for only spirit can make us happy. God is the supreme spirit, so it is only through association with Him that we can find eternal contentment. Since the Lord is so nice, He kindly appears on earth from time to time to help us break free of the effects of māyā. When He appears on earth, the Supreme Divine Entity doesn't tell everyone who He is, nor does He display all of His features. The reasoning behind this is pretty simple. Though we should love God, no one can force us to. The same holds true with romantic love, because no matter how hard we may try to get someone to like us, the choice is completely up to them. That is the definition of independence and free will. This same independence is there in our relationship with the Supreme. He will never force us to surrender unto Him because then the resulting relationship can't be classified as a loving one.

Since the Lord doesn't openly put His great opulence on display when He comes to earth, He gives the appearance of an ordinary human being to others. This was the case with Lord Rāma, an incarnation of Viṣṇu who roamed the earth many thousands of years ago during the Tretā Yuga. Born as the eldest son of the King of Ayodhyā, Rāma was a handsome and pious prince, dedicated to the rule of law and the codes of religion, or dharma. Rāma was God Himself after all, so He naturally possessed all good qualities. Everyone loved Him, even those He punished. All the citizens of the town were eagerly awaiting His ascension to the throne, where He would succeed His father. This wouldn't happen right away, however, since Rāma was forced into exile at a young age.

Lord Rāma was married at the time to His beautiful young wife, Sītā Devī. Vedic doctrine stipulates that a husband's duty is to provide complete protection for his wife. It was because of this principle that Rāma wanted Sītā to remain in the kingdom, where she would be protected. His exile term would last for fourteen years, so He didn't want to bring her to the forest where she would be vulnerable to attack. She was the most beautiful woman in the world after all, so He knew that others would try to steal her away. Not having access to His army in the forest, Rāma was worried that He wouldn't be able to protect her.

Sītā, for her part, also believed strongly in the principle that a wife should serve her husband at all costs. She insisted on going to the forest, not for her benefit, but to make sure that her husband was always happy. She knew He couldn't be happy if she wasn't there with Him. Thus she refused to remain in the kingdom, leaving Rāma no choice in the matter. The Lord eventually embarked for His journey, taking Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, His younger brother, with Him. Surely enough, Sītā would one day end up being kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were not in Sītā's presence when this happened, so when they returned to their cottage, they saw that she was missing.

Rāma immediately gave way to lamentation and anger. He knew He shouldn't have brought Sītā along in the first place. Moreover, He was now guilty of failing to protect His innocent wife. If the same thing were to happen to us, we would surely be distraught and upset. Thus Rāma played the role of a human being perfectly by outwardly showing signs of grief. We must remember that Lord Rāma is the Almighty, so He is not capable of making mistakes or failing to provide protection. These incidents were all carefully put together so as to teach future generations a lesson on the proper conduct for a man, husband, king, son, and human being. While Rāma was bemoaning His plight, Lakṣmaṇa rose up to offer some sound words of advice.

The above referenced statement was the last part of Lakṣmaṇa's advice. He is reminding Rāma of the fact that one must take action in order to get what they want. We may or may not see the results of our action, but this doesn't mean that they come on their own. Every effect has an initial cause. That cause could be some action we performed earlier on in life or even something we did in a previous life. Causes can also be traced to the activities of other living entities, but regardless, every result has some cause. A person had to perform some work in order for the result to bear fruit. Therefore Lakṣmaṇa is advising Rāma to get up and continue His search for Sītā, which is precisely what the Lord did.

This one statement of Lakṣmaṇa's is so profound that one can derive so many life lessons from it. Though we may not be handsome princes or incarnations of God, we certainly have duties to perform. We are all serving someone. Students serve their teachers, workers serve their bosses, children serve their parents, etc. In the execution of this service, there are bound to be successes and defeats, but we shouldn't let this stop us from continuing forward. We may get down from time to time, but the only way for things to come around is for us to continue to take action.

Though there are many types of service, there is one which is superior to all the rest. This topmost engagement is known as devotional service, or bhakti-yoga. The devotional aspect of this service refers to God, who is the ultimate reservoir of pleasure. We may serve our friends, family, and employers, but the enjoyment derived from such service is short-lived. This is due simply to the fact that all of these relationships are severed at the time of death. The soul, however, is eternal, so it must have an eternal companion if it wants to remain forever happy. This eternal companion is the Supreme Lord. It is only through serving Him that we can derive everlasting enjoyment.

Devotional service involves many processes, the foremost of which is chanting. In this age especially, the saṅkīrtana-yajña is recommended, or the sacrifice of congregational chanting of the holy names of God, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". Devotional service mostly involves dos, but there are don'ts as well, the most important of which involve abstention from the four pillars of sinful life: meat eating, gambling, illicit sex, and intoxication. Yet just as we saw how Lord Rāma wasn't immune from setbacks, those taking up devotional service will also meet their fair share of defeats.

Devotional life is not easy for the mere fact that one must still maintain their body. Unlike in days past when most people were farmers, the workplace is quite different today. To meet the basic demands of the body, most of us have to get nine-to-five jobs where we go into the office and deal with clients, bosses, and co-workers. This sort of life is unstable because companies always go through periods of change. Sometimes a company does well and expands, while other times it loses money and is forced to lay people off. If we lose our job, we have to find another one fairly quickly. Sometimes this involves relocating to another state or country.

Note: In the 16th verse of the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna, the son of Kuntī, that even if one ascends to Brahmaloka, the highest planet in the material universe, they must take birth again in the material world. But if one ascends to Kṛṣṇa's realm, rebirth will never happen.

So life isn't easy even for devotees. Sometimes we may also fall down from the virtuous path through either forgetting to chant our prescribed number of rounds, or losing our cool when talking to others. There are many qualities that a devotee of Kṛṣṇa must exude, and sometimes we're not capable of living up to this standard. Yet the teachings of Lakṣmaṇa apply to this area as well. Though we may make mistakes from time to time, we should never deviate from the most virtuous path of devotional service. It is the highest occupation of man, the topmost dharma. The lesson here is that in times of trouble, we should buck up and forge ahead. Things can only get better if we continue to perform our prescribed duties. Our spirits can quickly rise up again if we remain on the virtuous path. Human life is not the height of spiritual evolution after all. There is one step higher, that of ascending to the spiritual abode of Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa. For one who reaches that transcendental realm, there is no chance of ever coming back down.

# Chapter 20 - A Living Encyclopedia

"O hero, many times in the past You had spoken the same words of instruction to me. Of course how can anyone, be they even Bṛhaspati [the priest of the demigods] himself, be capable of instructing You?" (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.18)

Every person, regardless of their level of intelligence, seems to have theories on just about every topic. The pursuit of higher knowledge and philosophy is something all of us take up in some way or another. We experience so many different aspects of life that we are bound to see patterns emerge. These patterns help us recognize situations, both good and bad, thus making it easier to decide how to act. There are many choices we have to make in life, and the easier it is to decide upon these choices, the less likely we are to suffer from stress and discomfort.

In today's world of sound bites and twenty-four hour cable news channels, one doesn't have to look very far to find an "expert" describing their various theories. The sports media spends almost the entire day discussing various ideas and philosophies and what teams and players should be doing. The political news media is the same way, as they analyze the day to day goings on of the President and Congress. In a formalized educational environment, places of higher learning, there are teachers and professors who spend much time discussing their ideas with their students. Nothing makes a teacher happier than when they hear their student repeat one of their theories or ideas. It especially makes a teacher happy if their student chooses the proper time to invoke a particular postulate or theorem.

In these instances, the cause of the resulting joy felt by the teacher is not very difficult to understand. If we were to spend our whole lives developing theories and philosophies and writing books about the same topics, we would certainly develop an attachment to our ideas. A teacher is so kind in that they go beyond just developing ideas; they take the time to teach this information to others. When compared to star athletes, investment bankers, and movie stars, teachers earn a paltry living. Therefore one must really love what they do in order to take up the teaching vocation. Instructing others is usually reward enough, but when a teacher sees that a particular student really understood the lessons taught to them, the satisfaction derived is unmatched. "I really must be making a difference. I'm not just standing up here and moving my mouth while the rest of the students are simply dozing off. I must be getting through to them."

Now we may wonder why a teacher would need such validation. After all, most classes involve exams which already give an idea of what the student has learned. Or do they? Let's take college for example. A typical university class requires students to complete reading assignments, maybe hand in a few papers , and take several in-classroom examinations. Most students are only interested in one thing: passing the class, or at least getting a good grade. To this end, they will do whatever is necessary to pass the exams. Simply based on these requirements, the natural result is that the students will be more focused on memorization than actually permanently retaining the information they have learned. It is not surprising to find that most students, after finishing a class, forget all they have learned in a very short period of time. They may have even received a good grade in the class, but this was due more to their memorization skills than anything else.

Repeating information verbatim isn't necessarily a bad thing, especially if the information itself is sound. Many of the things we learn don't really need to be understood on a deep level. For example, if we unfortunately catch on fire, we are told to "stop, drop, and roll". Simply following these guidelines is enough to keep us out of danger. We don't really need to understand how the concept of stopping, dropping, and rolling works. With intricate philosophy expounded by great thinkers, the paradigm is a little different. It is one thing to repeat the information taught to us by an intelligent professor, but actually understanding the material and knowing when to make use of the various concepts is another. Therefore when teachers see that their students have truly understood the material presented to them, they feel a tremendous sense of satisfaction.

An example of one such student was Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. The Vedas tell us that there is only one God for all of humanity. Though people may not have a concrete idea of who God is, what He looks like, or where He lives, there is still only one God. The Vedas give a name to this singular entity: Kṛṣṇa. Not only does the Supreme Divine Entity have a name, but He also possesses an eternal, spiritual body, which is full of bliss and knowledge, sac-cid-ānanda-vigraha. Since every person has a different temperament and worldview, the Lord is not so unkind as to limit Himself to only one form. For the benefit of all the living entities, the Lord takes on unlimited expansions, each having their own name, form, attributes, and so on. Since there are unlimited expansions of God, the Vedas try to give us information on some of the more notable ones. Why are these expansions notable? Because they perform specific functions which appeal to a large number of people.

Each incarnation has a purpose, and with the case of Lord Rāma, God came to earth to reinstitute the principles of dharma and to annihilate miscreants. Dharma is usually translated as religion or religiosity, but it is actually the occupational duty of man. We all have different tasks and obligations depending on what line of work we are in, but the Vedas tell us that every living entity has one occupation that stands above all others. That occupation is service to God, who is the ultimate reservoir of pleasure. We each perform different work for different reasons. Some like what they do for a living, while others just need a steady income to maintain their bodies. Though there are different varieties of work and different levels of enjoyment derived from such activities, the topmost occupational duty of devotional service to God provides the highest level of enjoyment. Connecting with Kṛṣṇa brings transcendental pleasure. By transcendental we mean something which goes beyond the temporary nature of this world. Temporary pleasure is something that doesn't last very long, and once the thrill wears off, we are left with misery and a hankering for a more peaceful condition. Transcendental pleasure does not suffer from this defect. Since God is eternal, so is anything directly related to Him, including enjoyment.

The name Rāma means one who gives transcendental pleasure, and this was certainly the case with the prince of Ayodhyā. Born as the eldest son of King Daśaratha, Rāma was loved and adored by all. The Lord had three younger brothers who all loved Him very much. In the Vedic tradition, the eldest brother is deemed in charge of the siblings. This is true in many families, for the eldest carries the greatest burden. The common joke is that the parents make all their mistakes on the firstborn child. This is certainly true in many cases, with the younger siblings benefitting as a result. The eldest son takes all the arrows, for the parents aren't as lenient with them. They expect so much from the eldest, including the protection and caretaking of the younger siblings and the setting of a good example.

"Śatrughna, endued with cleverness, is your helper. Sumitra's son [Lakṣmaṇa] is well known as My best friend. We four worthy sons of that foremost of monarchs will keep him established in truth, O Bharata. Let not your mind despond." (Lord Rāma speaking to Bharata, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kand, 107.19)

Rāma was more than up to the challenge of taking care of His younger brothers. Of all His siblings, Lakṣmaṇa was the one closest to Rāma. This bond was there from birth, for Lakṣmaṇa would not eat or sleep without Rāma. Actually just focusing the mind on their relationship brings such transcendental bliss, since Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa are the emblem of fraternal affection. All of Daśaratha's sons were very pious, and since Rāma was the eldest, He was treated like a father by His brothers. In accordance with His standing in the family, Rāma would instruct His brothers from time to time on matters of piety, governance, and spirituality.

Since Lakṣmaṇa spent the most time with Rāma, it would make sense that He listened to Rāma's teachings the most. The spiritual master, or guru, plays a very important role in the Vedic tradition. Since He is the origin of Vedānta, or the ultimate knowledge, God is the original teacher. He put this original system of information into place to allow future generations to understand their true purpose in life. Though Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa took instruction from their own spiritual masters while growing up, Lakṣmaṇa undoubtedly viewed Rāma as his foremost guru. As a perfect student, Lakṣmaṇa not only listened to what Rāma told him, but he actually understood everything. He had a chance to prove this fact on one notable occasion.

Part of Rāma's pastimes included a trek through the forests of India for fourteen years. Sītā Devī, Rāma's wife, and Lakṣmaṇa accompanied the Lord during this journey. On one unfortunate occasion, Sītā was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were not with her when this happened, and when they realized she was missing, Rāma gave way to grief and anger. Since He lost His composure, He contemplated destroying the whole world as revenge. This is where Lakṣmaṇa stepped in. The perfect younger brother and student, Lakṣmaṇa offered sound words of advice to Rāma, asking Him to not overly lament over loss, for the wise neither lament over bad fortune nor overly rejoice over good times.

Note: In the 15th verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna, the best among men, that the person to whom all the temporary conditions in life borne of sense perception are never distressing, who is undisturbed and patient in both happiness and distress, becomes eligible for immortal life, or liberation.

Lakṣmaṇa's teachings were sound and solidly based in Vedic wisdom. But as a pure devotee and humble soul, Lakṣmaṇa didn't dare claim to have come up with this knowledge on his own. In the above referenced quote, he reminds Rāma that the Lord had taught all this information to him on previous occasions. He even references the fact that Rāma requires no teacher, for even the demigods look to Him for guidance. Not even Bṛhaspati, the spiritual master of the divine entities residing in the heavenly planets, is capable of teaching Rāma something He doesn't know. In this one statement, Lakṣmaṇa is secretly revealing Rāma's true identity as the Supreme Lord. People sometimes mistakenly believe that Hindus worship many gods, or that you can just pick any god and worship them as the Supreme Lord. There are certainly many godlike figures in the Vedic tradition, but they are not on the same level as the Supreme Lord Kṛṣṇa or His personal expansion of Viṣṇu. The demigods are referred to as devas, which mean godlike or divine beings. They are elevated living entities possessing extraordinary powers. However, from Lakṣmaṇa's statement we see that Rāma is even their preceptor, what to speak of ordinary men.

This one incident also reminds us of the fact that God derives tremendous pleasure from hearing Vedic wisdom from devotees. As the original teacher, Rāma instructs the entire world on the proper code of conduct, or dharma. Nevertheless, not everyone will understand His teachings. Some can surely recite what He says verbatim, and that itself is certainly a good thing, but there are very few people who truly understand what He teaches.

Note: In the 3rd verse of the 7th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that out of thousands of men, only one will strive for perfection in spiritual life. And out of these men, hardly one will know Kṛṣṇa truly.

Those who have the highest understanding of God, the devotees, are capable of not only remembering what their spiritual masters tell them, but also of knowing when to invoke different aspects of what they have been taught. Lord Rāma, by giving way to lamentation and anger, purposefully created a situation which allowed everyone to see how intelligent Lakṣmaṇa was. Moreover, Rāma wanted to create a scenario where Lakṣmaṇa could offer service to Him in a loving manner. This is an example of God's mercy. He knows that not everyone will offer service to Him in the same way, so He creates situations tailored to each devotee's mood of worship. This is similar to the way women behave when they are attracted to a man. Women will sometimes pretend to not know how to do something so that they can have the man in their life take charge and help them. This gives pleasure to both the woman and man, for the woman takes service from the man and the man gets to show off his skills.

The lesson here is that nothing pleases the spiritual master more than when we can teach others the same things that were taught to us. This represents a high level of devotion to God. What is so wonderful about teaching others about Kṛṣṇa is that not only does our spiritual master become pleased, but so does his spiritual master, and his spiritual master, and so on and so on until we reach all the way up to the original spiritual master, Kṛṣṇa Himself. Lord Caitanya, Kṛṣṇa's most recent incarnation on earth, advised that every person living in this age of Kali can become a guru by simply talking about Kṛṣṇa with every person they meet. Wherever we go, and whomever we meet, we simply have to talk about Kṛṣṇa and His instructions. An even simpler way to do this is to chant the holy names of God out loud, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare".

# Chapter 21 - Do It Again

"O hero, many times in the past You had spoken the same words of instruction to me. Of course how can anyone, be they even Bṛhaspati himself, be capable of instructing You?" (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.18)

Important facts and theorems need to be repeated again and again in order for others to understand them. This makes sense because it is our tendency to forget things, especially considering just how fast the human brain works and how quickly it processes ideas, memories, and experiences. Repetition is beneficial because sometimes even the givers of information, the teachers, can forget the relevant facts relating to their subject of interest. If a person repeats key concepts or finds new ways to explain the same ideas, they gain a better understanding of the subject matter. This principle especially applies to teachings relating to spiritual life.

The initial inclination is that such repetition will end up boring the intended audience. "Why would I want to listen to the same thing all the time? After a while, I'm just going to zone it out anyway." This may certainly be true in many scenarios. We have a tendency to get bored very quickly, thus there is a plethora of television channels and internet websites for our perusal. Though there appears to be variety in material enjoyment, if we do a careful study, we'll see that this variety is an illusion. Let's take the news for example. We like to watch the news for the obvious reason that it gives us new information; things that we don't know about. People who watch the news feel like they are in the know, ahead of the curve so to speak. But is today's news really anything noteworthy?

Say we opened up a newspaper from five or even ten years ago. First off, hardly anyone would have any interest in reading a newspaper which is that old, for even yesterday's news is of no interest. If we were to open up one of these old papers, we'd likely find a few stories relating to notable celebrity figures passing away, Congressmen declaring a crisis in some area of the economy, another person contemplating running for political office, a few gruesome murders here and there, and a new study saying that such and such food will cure cancer. The nature of the stories never really changes, though the exact details, facts, and proper names may vary. So while we may think we are getting variety in material life, we are more or less "chewing the chewed", as the great devotee Prahlāda Mahārāja would say.

Material life has this effect on us. We try something out, get some enjoyment out of it, and then eventually cast it aside in favor of a new venture. But the nature of the activities doesn't really change, for everything revolves around the four principles of animal life: sleeping, having sex, consuming food, and worrying about defense. Every new grandiose philosophy expounded by the latest intellectual is really no different than anything we've already heard. With each new activity, our enjoyment actually diminishes more and more. Since we have already "chewed" on such activities, there isn't much left there to give us happiness.

When all the enjoyment is chewed out of a particular activity, what do we do? Naturally, we look for new activities. But if the nature of the activities doesn't change, we're not likely to derive any new enjoyment. Spiritual life is different though. When talking about Lord Kṛṣṇa, or God, devotees derive pure transcendental pleasure. They can go on and on talking about the Lord - describing His glories, activities, and names - and never get bored. To see evidence of this, we need only consult the recorded teachings of two famous Vaiṣṇava acharyas: Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta Sarasvatī Goswami Prabhupāda, and His Divine Grace A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupāda.

Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was Śrīla Prabhupāda's spiritual master, so we'll look at some of his activities first. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta was known as the genius of his time; he even received the nickname of the "living encyclopedia". He could recite entire sections of Vedic literature straight from memory. Not only was he good at memorizing, but he could invoke relevant scriptural verses when needed, especially when debating other non-devotees. Aside from writing many books in several languages about devotion to Kṛṣṇa, Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta loved to lecture. It is said that he once spent two months giving lectures on just one verse from the Śrīmad Bhāgavatam. These verses aren't very long; maybe a few sentences, so how could one person talk for that long about the same verse? It also must be noted that his lectures weren't carbon copies of each other; he didn't just repeat himself every day.

Śrīla Prabhupāda behaved in a similar manner. He authored a large number of books after he had reached the age of seventy, which itself is a remarkable achievement. Moreover, he continually travelled across the world giving lectures, engaging in conversations, and translating books every single day. Many of these lectures were recorded, and one can listen to them today at their leisure. A point of interest is that most of the Prabhupāda lectures had the same meanings, touched on the same famous verses from scripture, and eventually reached the same conclusion. Yet one will never get bored listening to these lectures. How could this be?

An even more relevant question is how were these two great saints able to talk about the same subject matter every single day and not bore themselves? How were they able to remain passionate about what they were teaching and how were they able to keep others interested? As mentioned before, there is a difference between something that is material and something that is spiritual. Matter is part of God's inferior energy, so even though it is related to God, it is subordinate in nature to spirit. Spirit is anything directly relating to God, thus it is considered the Lord's superior energy. When we engage in any activity that is aimed at developing our material bodies, it is called karma. Spiritual activities are geared towards developing our spiritual bodies, so these activities are considered free of karma.

Since matter is inferior to spirit, it makes sense that the enjoyment derived from associating with the material energy would also be inferior. Śrīla Bhaktisiddhānta, Śrīla Prabhupāda, and all the great devotees associate exclusively with God's spiritual energy, so they never tire of teaching. They were able to talk so extensively about Kṛṣṇa because they had the proper understanding of everything material and spiritual. A scientist may be enamored by how grass grows. They will study the chemical properties, how long seeds take to sprout, and what it takes to sustain the life of the grass. While this information is beneficial, it doesn't really help in the grand scheme of things. The better way to go about learning about plants, trees, crops, etc. is to first understand the source of all life: God. This is the path taken by devotees. They try to find out who God is, where He lives, what He looks like, and what our relationship with Him should be.

After finding the answers to these questions, devotees immediately gain a perfect understanding of everything else in life. The same example of grass can be used here. The devotees look at the growing of grass in this way: "Oh this grass is so nice. It grows because of the sunlight produced by Kṛṣṇa. It needs fertile soil in order to grow, thus it requires high quality dirt, which is also emanating from Kṛṣṇa. Once the grass grows, it can be eaten by the cows, who will then freely supply milk to mankind. This milk will then be used to prepare foodstuff to be offered to Kṛṣṇa. Once the Lord eats the food, the resultant prasadam [the Lord's mercy] can be distributed to others. Thus the grass helps everyone in becoming Kṛṣṇa conscious, which is the ultimate goal in life."

Devotees not only look at grass through this prism of devotional service, but everything else in the world as well. Thus we see there are unlimited ways to describe the Lord. At this point, one may ask, "Okay, so you can describe God in so many ways, but why is this needed? Why do you constantly need to find new ways to explain the same concepts of spiritual life?" The reasons are twofold. The first is that devotees like to find ways to relate everyday things to spiritual life for the benefit of the non-devotees. In the grand scheme of things, every person is a devotee of Kṛṣṇa, but they just might not be aware of it. Also, the objects of their devotion may vary. One person may be worshiping Kṛṣṇa's illusory energy known as māyā, while another is worshiping the mind, the body, etc. Though every person is a devotee, since their objects of worship vary, so do the results of their worship. When we speak of devotees of Kṛṣṇa, we refer to those people who worship Kṛṣṇa directly, either in His personal form or one of His viṣṇu-tattva expansions such as Rāma, Narasimha, Nārāyaṇa, etc.

Perfection in life can be achieved only when we take to direct worship of Kṛṣṇa, because only through this worship can we develop a permanent spiritual body. This development is essential because only in a spiritual body can we enjoy pure transcendental bliss; something which gives us enjoyment that never runs out. In order to persuade people to take to direct worship of Kṛṣṇa, intricate explanations are required. Moreover, not every person is of the same mindset, so it is up to the spiritual master, or guru, to tailor his message to the specific audience. For example, some people may be strict karmīs who are after sense gratification. When speaking to such people, a devotee may choose to focus on the temporary nature of material sense gratification and how karma is a never-ending cycle. Then there are others who may believe in God, but may not want to accept the fact that He has a permanent form. They'd rather spend their time sitting in silent meditation or studying Vedānta. For these people, devotees would focus their attention on the fact that merging into Kṛṣṇa's impersonal energy, Brahman, doesn't provide spiritual satisfaction since all spiritual activity is eliminated in the Brahman effulgence. If one wants transcendental bliss with activity and individuality, things which are natural for the soul, it is better to worship God's personal form.

The second, and probably more important, reason that devotees love to explain the same concepts over and over again is that it gives them great pleasure. An example of this was seen many thousands of years ago with Lord Rāma and His younger brother Lakṣmaṇa. During the Tretā Yuga, God personally appeared on earth as one of His viṣṇu-tattva expansions named Rāma. Appearing as the eldest son of the King of Ayodhyā, Lord Rāma was a great warrior and pious soul from birth. Not only was He adept at fighting enemies, but He also had a full grasp of Vedic concepts and truths. This shouldn't be surprising, as Rāma was God Himself. Since He was the eldest son of the king, Rāma had added responsibilities. He had to set a good example not only for the citizens of Ayodhyā, but also for His three younger brothers. His brothers all looked at Rāma as a father, and the Lord would oblige by giving them instruction on dharma.

The Lord is the most merciful after all, so He doesn't like to always be the one providing instruction. Sometimes He likes to glorify His devotees by giving them the opportunity to teach. This was the case when Rāma's beautiful and chaste wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped from the forest by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Rāma pretended to be very distraught. He was playing the role of an ordinary human. Seeing that his beloved brother was distressed, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in and offered some sound words of advice. Though his teachings were intricate and detailed, the sum and substance was that Rāma should not overly lament over bad fortune and that He should remain fixed on the righteous path, performing His duties as a prince and husband with detachment. These teachings, which are a central part of Vedic wisdom, are also found in the famous Bhagavad-gītā delivered by Lord Kṛṣṇa Himself.

At the conclusion of his statements, the sweet and kind-hearted Lakṣmaṇa was somewhat remorseful for having instructed his superior brother. In the above referenced statement, he makes note of the fact that Rāma had many times previously offered the same instructions to him and that no one in the world was capable of telling Rāma what to do. These weren't just flattering words but undeniable facts. God is the original spiritual master of the world, so no one can surpass Him in intelligence. Yet Lakṣmaṇa's statement is quite noteworthy since it tells us that Rāma had previously offered the same words of advice to Lakṣmaṇa. This means that the Lord enjoyed discussing the same spiritual topics over and over again, and Lakṣmaṇa, being the great devotee that he was, also enjoyed hearing them. So we see that even though Lakṣmaṇa had already understood everything perfectly, there was still a need for repetition. Additionally, Rāma enjoyed hearing the same teachings repeated to Him by His younger brother.

The devotees, as their primary business in life, try to get others to take up the discipline of devotional service. They subscribe to this dharma because they know that only through the execution of devotional service will mankind find the permanent happiness that currently eludes it. One of the simplest ways to perform devotional service is to discuss topics relating to Kṛṣṇa with others. The easiest way to discuss Kṛṣṇa with others is to simply chant His names out loud, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". This is by no means the only option available to us. In today's advanced technological age, simply typing out Kṛṣṇa's name and sending it to others is also a form of Kṛṣṇa-kathā, or discourses about God. We can also find a nice story on the internet relating to Kṛṣṇa and forward the link to all of our friends. The possibilities for igniting spiritual discourses are endless.

So we see that talking about Kṛṣṇa pleases four distinct entities: the people we are talking to, other great devotees, ourselves, and the Supreme Lord. Knowing this fact, it would be a crime not to continue talking about Kṛṣṇa and discussing transcendental topics over and over again. As long as the life breath remains in our body, we should make this our primary activity.

# Chapter 22 - Checkmate

"O hero, many times in the past You had spoken the same words of instruction to me. Of course how can anyone, be they even Bṛhaspati himself, be capable of instructing You?" (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.18)

Charges of hypocrisy and dishonesty are often leveled by politicians hoping to gain an advantage. Political parties usually don't have much to stand on with their own ideas, so they take to discrediting their opposition as a way of advancing their agenda. This game is played by dredging up old quotes which contradict a certain personality's current position on an issue. The idea is that if a person is confronted with their own previous words, they will be forced to either admit they previously lied or that their current position is invalid. While this type of chess match goes on all the time in politics, nothing really substantive results from it. When we apply these same techniques to spiritual practice, however, it can yield tremendous results.

Debating is an art form. There are classes in high school and college which teach the ins and outs of public speaking to students. On the surface, this seems odd because one would think that a debate focuses on the substance of the arguments rather than the delivery of speech. Each person is either right or wrong in their arguments; the correctness being determined by authority. This is how Vedic truths are discovered anyways, for no serious follower of Vedic traditions would ever think of just making up new arguments without substantiating them with scriptural evidence. But things are a little different in the material world. Opinions are formed based on whims, so in order to back up their positions a person needs excellent debating skills. A good debater looks to not only defend their own position, but also discredit their opponents and their arguments. It is additionally beneficial if you can use your opponent's statements to support your own arguments.

The arena of politics serves as a great example in showing how debates are won and lost in the modern age. Most politicians today are lawyers by trade, so they make their livelihoods on argument, debate, contradiction, and cross-examination. Politics is a volatile game, something which can immediately cause divisions amongst large groups of people. As soon as a person takes a stand on any issue, they are sure to alienate half of the voting public. In order to win over people who are against their stance of an issue, a politician will try to pick apart their opponent's beliefs. In addition, politicians will try to support their own positions by pointing to prior incidents where their opponents stood for the same issue. This technique is actually known as the tu-quoque fallacy, meaning "you too", but it is not easily recognized. This fallacy is typically seen in the situation where person A makes a negative claim about person B's behavior. Person B, instead of trying to defend the merit of their behavior, decides to use the tu-quoque fallacy whereby they note that Person A had previously engaged in the same behavior. Person B is essentially saying, "Well, you did this same thing in the past, so how can you complain now?" This is obviously a fallacy because Person B has not discussed the merits of Person A's claim.

These types of arguments go on constantly. We can turn on the news tonight and be sure to see countless examples of this kind of debating technique. While it may be nice to expose a high office holder's hypocrisy, what is the end-result? Do people end up changing their behavior? Most often they don't. What people do learn is that politicians lie and say whatever is necessary to get elected. But this isn't really shocking news to anyone. Yet if we apply these same debate techniques to spiritual life, it can pay real dividends. This is because the rules of engagement for spiritual life are set by Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Unlike self-interested politicians, God is the supreme pure, so He is someone we can count on to be honorable and fair.

An example of this chivalry was seen many thousands of years ago when Kṛṣṇa incarnated on earth as Lord Rāma. Each of Kṛṣṇa's incarnations on earth has specific attributes suited for the time and circumstance. During Lord Rāma's time, man was still generally spiritually inclined, so the Lord suited His demeanor to match this characteristic. Rāma was a pious soul, dharma-ātmā, who took birth in the Raghu-vaṁśa, or the dynasty of King Raghu. All the kings in this line were noble and chivalrous, for they had to be since their duty was to provide protection to the citizens. Rāma was the eldest son of the King of Ayodhyā, Mahārāja Daśaratha. As the eldest son, it was Rāma's duty to not only attend to state affairs, but also to give instruction to His three younger brothers. Rāma's brothers viewed Him as a father-figure, and they listened very attentively whenever He spoke.

How do we know that Rāma's brothers listened to Him? We get evidence of this from a few notable incidents. On one particular occasion, Rāma's beautiful and chaste wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Rāma, His younger brother Lakṣmaṇa, and Sītā were travelling the forests of India for fourteen years as a result of an exile punishment handed down by Daśaratha. Sītā was protected whenever Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were around, but Rāvaṇa devised a plan which led the two brothers away from their āśrama. Rāvaṇa then used this opportunity to take Sītā away by force. Upon returning to their cottage, Rāma saw that Sītā was gone. He immediately gave way to lamentation and despair. Rāma loved Sītā very much, and He was also playing the part of an ordinary human being. What man wouldn't be distraught upon learning that his wife had gone missing?

At this time, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in to offer some sound words of advice. It wasn't that Lakṣmaṇa viewed himself as superior to Rāma. On the contrary, Lakṣmaṇa openly declared to everyone that he was Rāma's servant for life. Such a younger brother will never be found in this world; Lakṣmaṇa's personal character and dedication to God was unmatched. Still, sometimes when we see our loved ones in trouble, we have to step in and offer counsel. After all, our family members help us out when we're in trouble, so shouldn't we try to do the same for them? This is what Lakṣmaṇa thought, so he didn't hesitate to offer a helping hand. The gist of his statements was that Rāma should not worry about loss or gain and that even if Sītā were dead, He shouldn't deviate from the righteous path. All of us have prescribed duties we must perform in life, and we should perform them without attachment to the results. These are some of the central teachings of Vedic philosophy, for statements almost identical to the ones given by Lakṣmaṇa are found in the famous Bhagavad-gītā, which was delivered many thousands of years later by Kṛṣṇa Himself.

After giving his advice, Lakṣmaṇa added one more piece of information which was of critical importance. Lakṣmaṇa made sure to remind Rāma that he had, on many prior occasions, heard the same teachings delivered by Rāma Himself. This is the proof that Lakṣmaṇa always listened attentively to the original spiritual master of the world, Śrī Rāma. Moreover, this one piece of information offered by Lakṣmaṇa actually put Rāma in quite a bind. Lakṣmaṇa essentially told Rāma, "You have to follow my advice, for these statements actually aren't coming from me. All of this I learned from You originally. Thus if You don't listen to what I'm saying now, You're essentially going against Your own teachings. You wouldn't want to do that, would You?"

"'A woman, without her husband, cannot live', this truth has been pointed out by You, O Rāma, to me." (Sītā Devī speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kand, 29.7)

This is the beauty of devotional service. Since the pure devotees hang on God's every word, they make sure to keep everything in memory should they need to repeat the same information at a future time. Ironically enough, this wasn't the first time one of Rāma's close associates used this technique. Just prior to going to the forest, Rāma informed Sītā of the exile punishment and insisted that she remain in the kingdom for the duration of the fourteen years. Sītā, however, was also a good listener and made sure to remember everything Rāma had taught her about the duties of a spouse in marriage. She immediately invoked many of the Vedic tenets relating to the fact that a wife must always remain with the husband and how the wife can never be happy living without the husband. At the end of her statements, she too reminded Rāma that what she was speaking was originally told to her by Rāma. Thus the Lord had no choice but to listen to Sītā. In a similar manner, Rāma was forced to accept Lakṣmaṇa's advice.

Since Lord Rāma is the Supreme Divine Entity, He is never required to listen to anyone, but for the devotees, He kindly creates circumstances where He is forced to listen to their words of advice. Lord Rāma was very pleased with both Sītā and Lakṣmaṇa, for their words of wisdom were offered out of pure love. Following Lakṣmaṇa's advice, Rāma would regain His senses and continue His search for Sītā, eventually finding and rescuing her after defeating Rāvaṇa in battle.

Note: In the 66th verse of the 18th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna to abandon all forms of religion [dharma] and simply surrender unto Him. By so doing, Arjuna would have no need to worry, for Kṛṣṇa would protect him from all sinful reaction.

There are several important lessons we can take away from this. Since Kṛṣṇa knows that our natural home is in the spiritual world with Him, He kindly gives us guidelines to follow in our journey through life. His most important teaching is that we should abandon all the so-called dharmas that we have created and simply surrender unto His lotus feet. Fully surrendering unto God will guarantee us a return ticket back to His spiritual abode after our current life is over. So how do we surrender? We simply have to take up devotional service, or bhakti-yoga. In this age, the easiest way to practice Kṛṣṇa-bhakti is to regularly chant, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". We should also avoid the four pillars of sinful life: meat eating, gambling, intoxication, and illicit sex.

The beauty of this system is that if we fully surrender unto God, He will be compelled to make good on His promises. If we become pure devotees by always thinking of the Lord and spending all our time engaged in His service, He will have no choice but to abide by His own statements promising our salvation. If our hearts are pure, then just as with Lakṣmaṇa and Sītā, we too can put the Lord into a checkmate situation, where He is forced to accept our service.

# Chapter 23 - The Sleeping Giant

"O You of great intellect, not even the demigods can fathom the level of Your intelligence. Due to bereavement Your wisdom is currently in a dormant state, and I am here to rouse it." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.19)

Brahman is one way to realize the Supreme Absolute Truth. There can be no higher truth than God, but depending on a person's angle of vision, they can view Him in three distinct ways. Bhagavān is the ultimate realization since it represents the Divine's most complete feature as the Supreme Personality of Godhead. A less complete realization is that of Paramātmā, or the Supersoul which resides side by side with the individual inside the heart. The third less granular way to view the Absolute Truth is as the all-pervading impersonal effulgence known as Brahman. This energy can be thought of as a light, similar to the sunshine emanating from the sun. There is no difference between the sunshine and the sun itself, for they are part and parcel of the complete whole. Yet at the same time, the sun globe remains superior. In the same vein, there is no difference in quality between the Supreme Lord and the living entities, though the Supreme Lord always remains superior.

Note: In the 13th verse of the 13th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that He will now explain the knowable, which upon understanding one will taste eternal nectar. The beginning-less spirit, which is beyond the cause and effect of the material world, and which is subordinate to Kṛṣṇa, is known as Brahman.

Brahman is completely pure and free of any defects. Since we are part of Brahman, we too are meant to be completely pure, knowledgeable, and eternal. Yet most of us currently are in a conditioned state where we are constantly hankering for the things that we want and lamenting over the things that we fail to secure. In the conditioned state, the living entity is anything but happy, blissful, or knowledgeable. How can this be if we are part of Brahman? If we are the same in quality as God, how can we suffer through misery? Isn't the Absolute Truth above defects?

To answer these questions we must first analyze the difference between the living entities and Parabrahman. Some people understand the true nature of Brahman and realize that everything emanates from it. From this fact, they conclude that everything coming from Brahman must also inherit its good qualities. As living entities, part and parcel of Brahman, we are certainly the same in quality as Parabrahman [God], but our quantitative powers are different. We are part of the complete whole, but at the same time different from it. The example of the body can be used to illustrate this distinction. Our arms and legs are certainly part of our body, thus they can be considered identical to us in a sense. The arm is the body, for it is one of the key components to it. At the same time, there is an owner of the body, a distinct entity which drives the movements of the various body parts. Some believe that this controller is the brain or the heart, but in reality it is the soul. The soul is puruṣa, or spirit, and it gives life to dull matter. Thus the soul can be considered different from the body; it is the master.

Note: In the 3rd verse of the 14th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna, son of Bharata, that Brahman, the total material substance, is the source of birth. Kṛṣṇa impregnates that Brahman and thus makes the births of all living entities possible.

In the same regard, there is a driving force to Brahman, a great puruṣa who is in charge. This person is Lord Kṛṣṇa, or God. Since God is the driving force behind Brahman, it must be concluded that He is superior to it; hence He is known as Parabrahman. Since Kṛṣṇa is superior to Brahman, He is also the controller of everything that is included in it, i.e. the living entities. Therefore we see the key distinction between the living entities and the Supreme Lord. He is always superior to man in all respects.

The other reason Kṛṣṇa is superior to us is that He is not subject to the illusory forces of māyā. Brahman consists of everything spirit and matter. We living entities represent the spiritual portion and the material nature represents the material portion. Matter refers to anything that is lifeless, something that is subordinate to spirit. Thus matter is referred to as prakṛti, or female, while puruṣa is male. Puruṣa is the enjoyer and prakṛti is the enjoyed.

It is in this context that illusion, or māyā, arises. Māyā means that which is not, an energy characterized by the act of accepting something to be one thing when it is really something else. In the conditioned state, the living entity believes that enjoyment comes through association with prakṛti, or matter. This is really an illusion because matter cannot provide unlimited happiness. Meeting the demands of the gross senses, temporary happiness is achieved every now and then, but this enjoyment is short-lived. Moreover, once the feelings of happiness are gone, we are left with grief and despair. Māyā tricks us into believing that we will be happy associating with material nature, when in reality our true happiness can only come through association with spirit.

One of the primary negative side effects resulting from association with māyā is lamentation. Every man laments. We need only study our own lives in order to see proof of this. We become sad over some of the most meaningless incidents. Let us take sports for example. If our favorite players lose in tennis or golf, we will surely be unhappy for a while. When our favorite football team makes it to the Super Bowl and loses, we will be sad for the next few days. If our countrymen lose a big cricket match, we will be angry and sad at the same time. In the grand scheme of things, this sadness is not justified. Sports are just material pursuits after all, and we know that everything in this world is working under God's direction. We may think that we have some control over events, but there are so many unseen direct and indirect causes that lead to the results of action. Karma is very easy to understand in this respect, and its effects are seen throughout life.

This type of lamentation is also silly because our sports heroes, political leaders, and other favorite celebrities really have no bearing on our own fortunes. Most of the time, our favorite athletes have no idea who we are or what is important to us in life. If they win or lose, how does it affect our life? Do we get any richer if our favorite golfer wins the Masters? Do we lose out if our team falls short of winning the Stanley Cup? This lamentation arises out of illusion and the fact that our general mentality is one geared towards service. Every person in this world, regardless of what they may think, is serving someone or something. A President is serving the country, a CEO is serving his shareholders and customers, a wife is serving the husband, the husband the wife, the worker the boss, etc. Every person is offering some kind of service because that is their nature. Yet since our service is directed in the wrong areas, problems arise.

How do we determine where our service mentality should be directed? This is where the guru, or spiritual master, comes in. The bona fide spiritual master is the embodiment of the perfect person. Who is the perfect person? The Vedas tell us that he is a pure devotee of Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Since we are part and parcel of God, our service attitude is meant to be directed towards Him. Love is what makes the world go around. Currently we direct our love in so many areas besides spirituality. Thus we are left to constantly lament. Not only do we lament over not finding romantic love, but also over anything that we feel serves as an obstacle in finding that elusive soul mate. "Oh I am too fat, who will want to go out with me? I am getting too old, I will probably die alone. How come I can't find that special someone to make me happy?"

The spiritual master knows that the only soul mate for the living entity is Kṛṣṇa. This may seem silly on the surface. "How do we associate with God? How can we love someone that we can't even see?" Again, this is where the guru comes in. The spiritual master knows how to see the Absolute Truth because he learned the technique from his guru, who learned it from his guru, and so on. The original spiritual master is Kṛṣṇa. He created the ancient system of Vedic knowledge in order to help the conditioned living entities realize the ultimate reservoir of pleasure and become happy. The only way to shed our illusion and ignorance, and regain our true nature of bliss, is to surrender unto a pure devotee of Kṛṣṇa and listen to his instructions. It is through the mercy of the guru that we can achieve perfection in life.

An example of this mercy was seen many thousands of years ago with Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. The Supreme Absolute Truth is so kind that not only does He give us Vedic wisdom, but He also appears on this planet from time to time to show us just how to go about following the teachings of the Vedas. For many of us, it is easier to learn high concepts and theories through activities and real life examples. In mathematics for example, there are many theorems and rules put forward by great teachers, but it is not until we work out intricate problems that we gain an understanding of how to use these rules and what they mean. In the same way, Kṛṣṇa's avatāras, or incarnations that appear on earth, give us a glimpse into God's true nature and how we are to associate with Him.

As Lord Rāma, God showed special mercy to the fallen souls by appearing in the guise of an ordinary human being. If the Supreme Divine Entity comes to earth and constantly shows off His power, it would be difficult for conditioned living entities to relate to Him. "Oh this person is the Supreme Lord, so what need do I have to hear about His activities? None of these stories relate to anything in my life." If the Lord appears as a human being, however, we are more likely to take an interest in the activities He performs. This was the case with Lord Rāma, as His life's story is documented in the famous Rāmāyaṇa poem composed by Maharṣi Vālmīki. The Rāmāyaṇa is probably the oldest literary work in history, as it cannot even be properly dated. Lord Rāma appeared so many thousands of years ago, during the Tretā Yuga, that people have a hard time coming up with concrete dates for His appearance and disappearance.

Since Rāma was playing the role of an ordinary human, He too endured some hardships. As the eldest son of the king of Ayodhyā, Rāma was the rightful heir to the throne, but on the day prior to His installation, He had the kingdom snatched away from Him. To make matters worse, the Lord was forced into exile for fourteen years. This wasn't the worst thing to happen to Rāma though. While in the forest, His beautiful wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Rāma was an expert kṣatriya warrior who appeared on earth specifically to kill Rāvaṇa. The demon was granted a boon many years prior by Lord Brahmā which stipulated that no celestial could defeat him in battle. Human beings were not on the exempt list, thus Lord Kṛṣṇa used this loophole to come to earth and kill Rāvaṇa.

Since Rāma could defeat anyone in battle, there was no way for Rāvaṇa to kidnap Sītā while in Rāma's presence. Therefore the demon created a diversion which led both Rāma and His younger brother Lakṣmaṇa away from the cottage where Sītā was. As a result, Rāvaṇa was able to swoop in and take the beautiful princess away by force. When Rāma returned to the cottage, He saw Sītā was gone and immediately gave way to lamentation. Though we may have strong feelings for our loved ones, they pale in comparison to the attachment felt by the Supreme Personality of Godhead towards His pleasure potency. Just as God is eternal, so are His pleasure potency expansions such as Rādhārāṇī, Lakshmi, Sītā, etc. Since no one in this world can give more pleasure to Rāma than Sītā, her disappearance caused the Lord great grief.

Seeing his brother distraught, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in and offered some sound words of advice. In this instance, Lakṣmaṇa essentially served as Rāma's guru. Now we shouldn't let this leave us with the impression that Kṛṣṇa needs a guru or that He can suffer from the same defects that we can. Lakṣmaṇa clearly pointed out several times that Rāma was in no need of a guru, for even the demigods looked to Him as their spiritual guide. Nevertheless, Rāma was playing the role of a disciple in order to teach future generations a lesson. Since Lakṣmaṇa was a pure devotee, he was a perfect candidate to be a spiritual master.

In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa makes mention of the fact that Rāma's intelligence is unmatched and that currently His intelligence is being numbed by His grief. Moreover, Lakṣmaṇa is taking it upon himself to remove that grief so that Rāma's eternally existing wisdom can be awakened. Though Lakṣmaṇa spoke these words to the Supreme Lord Himself, in many respects the teachings apply to all living entities. We too are knowledgeable and full of bliss, but we currently are unaware of it due to our grief. Māyā has tricked us into forming attachments to matter. This transgression has dulled our intelligence and wisdom. The only person who can reawaken the sleeping giant inside of us is the spiritual master.

What was Lakṣmaṇa's instruction to Rāma? Rāma's sweet-hearted younger brother told Him to get up and continue with His prescribed duties. Lakṣmaṇa told Rāma to push aside any attachment to loss or gain. Even if Sītā were dead, Rāma should still push on with His duties. He should never be taken off the path of dharma, even if He were to meet with good or bad fortune. This same teaching applies to all of us. The only way to rekindle our relationship with the Supreme Lord is to always remain on the path of dharma, or righteousness.

What is the righteous path? What constitutes dharma? Though there are so many different religious systems in existence, the highest occupational duty is to always serve the interests of the Supreme Lord. If we surrender unto the Supreme Lord and always perform devotional service, we will achieve perfection in life. Lord Rāma was God Himself, so He had no occupational duty. God is never duty-bound to anyone, but since He kindly played the role of a pious prince, He took it upon Himself to always carry out the duties prescribed to His order. In a similar manner, our supreme occupational duty is to serve the Supreme Lord. This service should continue uninterrupted.

But we are currently in a conditioned state, so how can we avoid the pitfalls of lamentation and distress? The key is to abide by the instructions of the spiritual master. Lakṣmaṇa is the embodiment of the guru. Anyone who follows in his line, i.e. anyone who is a pure devotee of God, can help us achieve the ultimate objective in life, the return to our original consciousness. Since we currently live in the dark age of quarrel and hypocrisy, the sincere devotees have simplified the requirements for achieving spiritual salvation. The best way to practice devotional service today is to regularly chant God's names, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare".

Our current grief can only be removed by the sword of knowledge. That sword originally belongs to Lakṣmaṇa, who in turn kindly passes it down to the spiritual master. We should approach a pure devotee of Kṛṣṇa, either through personal association or through consultation of recorded instruction, and learn from them. We should not let our characteristic intelligence be dulled by the forces of māyā. Human life is meant for realizing our true nature of bliss and knowledge.

# Chapter 24 - As Good As Gold

"O You of great intellect, not even the demigods can fathom the level of Your intelligence. Due to bereavement Your wisdom is currently in a dormant state, and I am here to rouse it." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.19)

Gold is a commodity that has value and importance throughout the world. Formerly, gold was the system of currency in many countries like America, where each paper note was backed by an equal value of gold in the national treasury. Gold is so valuable that people flock to areas where it is in abundance, or where there is even a perceived reservoir, as was seen with the gold rush in the West Coast of the United States during the year of 1849. Yet if one were to discover gold, they likely wouldn't find it to be very appealing. Gold in an unpolished state appears just like a glob of matter, something that can even be bitten into. Actually that is one way to determine the authenticity of gold; you see if it can be bitten into. It is not until one expertly crafts, shapes, and refines the gold that it starts to shine and take on a life of its own. In a similar manner, we living entities are just like gold in that we are pure and extremely valuable at the core, yet presently we are in an unpolished state, unaware of our true value. It is not until we associate with a pure devotee of Lord Kṛṣṇa, or God, that we can understand our true nature.

Gold is valuable. How do we know this? Others like to own gold and use it for various purposes. Something is considered valuable if it can be used by others to advance a cause or item of self-interest. If something isn't valuable, we have no interest in it; we don't think twice about it. Valuable commodities have just the opposite effect; we want to possess them and watch their value grow. One of the most valuable commodities in the modern age is oil, which is regularly traded on the futures market. This buying and selling is so volatile that simply by betting the future price of oil up or down, the current price of gasoline can drastically change. Gold is considered a real commodity because it will always have value, irrespective of the current economic situation. Currently in America, wealth is determined by how much paper currency a person possesses, but as is seen, the value of these paper notes can change on a whim depending on how the Federal Reserve Bank of America deals with monetary policy. In days past, all currency in America was backed by an equal amount of gold in the national treasury, thus giving the paper notes a tangible value. Though that is not the case today, mankind's interest in gold has not diminished.

We living entities are similar to gold in that our value doesn't lessen with time. Time is the greatest diminishing force since it can reduce anyone and anything. A person may be very strong and stout today, but through the influence of all-devouring time, their strength will gradually diminish to the point where they will die. In a similar manner, great buildings and empires also collapse in due course. We living entities, however, being eternally valuable, are immune to the effects of time. This may seem like a contradiction at first glance. How can we be immune to the effects of time if we are destined to die? Our identity comes from the ātmā, or soul, residing within us. This soul is eternal, unbreakable, and immutable. It never suffers through birth or death, nor does its value ever increase or decrease.

To understand the soul's true value, we must first realize where it comes from. If the soul never takes birth, how can it have a source? The soul is technically an expansion of the supreme soul, the Supreme Divine Entity. When this Person who transcends ignorance, Puruṣottama, expands Himself into separate jīva souls, the separated souls don't necessarily take birth. Puruṣottama is existing eternally, and thus so are His expansions. Since we come from God, our nature is exactly like His. The Supreme Lord, whose original form is that of Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, is eternally blissful and full of knowledge. This should make sense to us. If Kṛṣṇa were miserable and unintelligent, then He couldn't be God. The idea of a supreme controller implies that He is above any and all defects known to man. We spirit souls are godlike, so we are also eternally blissful, full of knowledge, and not subject to illusion, distress, chaos, tumult, etc.

If we are eternally blissful, why do we suffer through misery? Why are we forced to die? Every day is full of so many miseries. We create so many attachments throughout the course of our lifetime, yet all these bonds are severed at some point. If we watch the news on any given day, we will see tragedy everywhere. Somewhere a building is being blown up, a person's home is being ruined by a devouring flood, or a government is confiscating wealth and property and turning citizens into wards of the state. If we are godlike, why do we live through so much tumult?

These unwanted events are the result of our current state, a condition where we are bewildered by the forces of material nature, which are governed by māyā. Māyā means that which is not. By taking birth here, we become subject to her forces. Māyā essentially makes us believe that we can achieve unending bliss and peace through associating with everything and everyone except Puruṣottama. Since God is the only person who can give us real pleasure, the further and further we drift from Him the more we suffer through disappointment and heartache. Thus our original blissful nature becomes covered up by the temporary pains and pleasures we experience in this world. This underscores the difference between God and His separated expansions, i.e. the living entities. Kṛṣṇa can never become subject to the forces of māyā, but we living entities can. In this way, God is always superior.

The living entities are just like gold, in that our value does not change even when we associate with māyā. Yet gold in its raw form doesn't have much use. It must be shaped and crafted in such a way that all the dust is removed so that it can truly shine. In a similar manner, we living entities are extremely valuable in that we are part and parcel of God. But in order to realize our potential, we must be shaped and molded in the proper way. Where do we go to get fixed up? Who or what can polish us and make us shine? For the solution, we must approach a pure devotee of Kṛṣṇa, someone who is already shining, someone who already exudes the valuable qualities of truthfulness, eternality, and bliss. That person is the spiritual master, or guru.

The pure devotee of Kṛṣṇa is the emblem of the true value of the living entity. Being part and parcel of God is certainly valuable in and of itself, for Kṛṣṇa is the wealthiest person in the world. But the devotees are valuable for another reason. They can teach other living entities how to assume their true nature and become valuable themselves. For this reason, the association of a saintly person is considered the greatest fortune in the world. Great devotees of the past all were polished and shaped into their pure form by other devotees of Kṛṣṇa. We can take Nārada Muni for example. He is likely the greatest reformer in history. He was the spiritual master of so many great saints of the past, including Maharṣi Vālmīki and Vyāsadeva. These two saints have authored the bulk of Vedic literature, so this fact alone speaks to Nārada's greatness. In a similar manner, Goswami Tulsidas was personally instructed on devotion to Lord Rāma by Śrī Hanumān.

How can we tell who is a pure devotee? How do we know whether a person has transcended the illusory forces of māyā? Māyā is that which is not, and the opposite of this is the Supreme Absolute Truth. There are varying degrees of truth, for the material world is full of dualities and contradictions. For this reason, God is referred to as the Supreme Absolute Truth, meaning His supreme dominion can never be denied. Since God is absolute, there is no wiggle room as far as His strength and purity go. Moreover, any person who directly associates with the Supreme Absolute Truth also inherits the Lord's qualities. The pure devotees of Kṛṣṇa meet this requirement. Instead of associating with illusion, they attach themselves to the Supreme Truth. They have no other business than to serve Kṛṣṇa in a loving way. Devotees may look different, come from different parts of the world, and even have different skin colors and ethnicities, but one thing they have in common is that they are devoted to Kṛṣṇa. Their only business in life is to serve Him, think of Him, and always praise Him while in the company of others.

The spiritual master, or guru, takes things one step further. Not only does he devote himself to God, but also teaches others how to reawaken their dormant love for the Supreme. This is the special mercy of the guru. A guru can be any person who gives instruction about devotional service to Kṛṣṇa. Any person who takes away our accumulated material dust and makes us truly shine is a guru. A great example of such an instructor was Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma.

During the second time period of creation, the Tretā Yuga, Lord Kṛṣṇa expanded Himself into human form and appeared on earth as the valiant and chivalrous prince of Ayodhyā, Lord Rāma. Rāma had three younger brothers, with Lakṣmaṇa being the one most attached to Him. As part of His pastimes, Rāma roamed the forests of India for fourteen years. During this time, His beautiful and chaste wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Lakṣmaṇa was with Rāma in the forest, and when the two discovered that Sītā was missing, there was instant grief and lamentation. Rāma especially took it hard. He frantically searched about the neighboring forests and asked the trees and flowers if they had seen His beloved wife. This behavior was strikingly similar to how Śrīmatī Rādhārāṇī, the eternal consort of Lord Kṛṣṇa, acted when the Lord had left Vṛndāvana for Mathurā. This shows that the Supreme Entity loves His devotees just as much as they love Him.

Seeing his brother in bad shape, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in and offered some sound words of advice. The above referenced quote was part of his concluding statements. Lakṣmaṇa advised Rāma to avoid lamentation, for even if Sītā were dead, protocol called for Rāma to continue His adherence to dharma, or prescribed duties. Good and bad things happen all the time, but it doesn't mean that we should give up the activities that we are obligated to perform. Only through proper execution of spiritual activities can one achieve success in life. Thus we see that Lakṣmaṇa behaved as the perfect spiritual master.

Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were part of the kṣatriya, or warrior, class, so how could Lakṣmaṇa be a spiritual master? Moreover, Rāma was God Himself, so how can He ever take instruction from anyone? These are very important questions, and if we properly understand the answers to them, we will be taking giant steps forward in our spiritual progress. At the end of his statements, Lakṣmaṇa made sure to remind Rāma that no one could instruct Him, for even the demigods learned everything from Him. This one statement secretly gives away Rāma's true identity as the ultimate divine personality. But Lakṣmaṇa also made sure to remind Rāma that the instruction he was providing had actually been delivered by the Lord to Lakṣmaṇa on many previous occasions. Thus we see that Lakṣmaṇa didn't concoct any of the things he was saying, for he had learned these truths from the highest authority, Rāma. Moreover, since God is the original teacher of mankind, He takes pleasure in seeing that His students understand what He teaches them. Rāma felt great joy in hearing Lakṣmaṇa's instructions, for it meant that His faithful younger brother had listened attentively, like a perfect student.

The lesson to be learned from this incident is that we should all adopt Lakṣmaṇa's mindset and listen attentively to the teachings of the Supreme Lord. Where do we go to find these teachings? Luckily for us, when God teaches His devotees, they don't just keep the information to themselves. They train their own disciples, who then pass it down to their students, and so on. So we simply need to consult a person belonging to the chain of disciplic succession which originates from Lord Kṛṣṇa. If we approach these devotees, we are assured of success in spiritual life. This association doesn't have to be of the personal variety either. The great saints have written voluminous literature establishing the supremacy of devotional service to Kṛṣṇa over all other spiritual disciplines. These books have true value, for they have been read for centuries. Unlike the newspapers and magazines of today, these books don't get tossed aside after reading once or twice. Their value only increases as time goes on. We simply need to consult these books, read them regularly, and pass on the information contained within to others. In this way, we can assume our true nature as pure servants of the Supreme Lord. Devotees of God are as good as gold in all respects.

# Chapter 25 - The Sharpest Knife

"O You of great intellect, not even the demigods can fathom the level of Your intelligence. Due to bereavement Your wisdom is currently in a dormant state, and I am here to rouse it." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.19)

Tim "The Toolman" Taylor, the famous character from the American television sitcom Home Improvement, said it best: "We need more power!" This is the rallying cry of men around the world. When we want to get a job done right, we like to attack with strength. This means that if we require the aid of a tool or device, we want something that will pack the heaviest punch, for that will increase the chances of success. If we really want to cut into something, we require the sharpest knife in the drawer. In a similar manner, there is no tighter bond in this world than that which ties us to material life. This knot can only be cut by the sharpest of spiritual guides, the sādhu.

Why is an increase in power or the sharpest knife required? Won't just an ordinary knife do the job? Sometimes this is certainly true. We don't always want to take the "extra strength" variety of pain relief medication if our headache is only of the minor variety. But for the big jobs, it is undoubtedly true that extra strength equates to a greater chance of success in the mission. For example, if we are mowing a small lawn, we might be fine with just a manual machine which can be pushed by hand. But if we have to mow acres and acres of property, we require a riding lawnmower, something which can be driven around in a manner similar to a golf cart. If we need to tow heavy loads of cargo, a large truck will be much more effective than a small car.

The famous ruler, Alexander the Great, once had the good fortune of encountering the Gordian Knot. This knot was woven in such a way that it was deemed impossible to untie. The legend had it that whoever would untie the knot would become the master of Asia. Alexander the Great, in the process of trying to loosen the knot, decided instead to swipe at it with his sword. Hence the knot was more destroyed than untied. Nevertheless, we see that for the toughest jobs, we require the sharpest of weapons.

In a similar manner, the Vedas tell us that we living entities are tightly bound to this material world. How are we tied down? Our individual identity comes from the ātmā, or soul. The soul is completely pure and uncontaminated at all times. However, to come to the material world, the soul requires a covering, something which masks its true nature. This covering consists of material qualities which are known as gunas. Another definition for guṇa is "rope". It is defined as such because material qualities actually keep us tied to this illusory and temporary world.

What does it mean to be tied to the material world? The soul's natural habitat is in the spiritual world. Spirit is referred to as puruṣa, and matter as prakṛti. The material world consists of both spirit and matter, but the spiritual world only contains spirit. Our place in the material world can be thought of in terms of outer space. The natural habitat for human beings is land, but if we want to go to space, we have to cover our body with an expensive, technically enhanced spacesuit. This spacesuit is equipped with an oxygen tank which allows us to breathe while in space. As long as we are in this suit and have enough oxygen, we can survive in space, even though it's not where we naturally belong.

The material body – which is composed of varying combinations of the three gunas of goodness, passion, and ignorance - comprises the "spacesuit", so to speak, for the living entities. This suit is given to us by God. Material qualities are considered binding because if one chooses to associate with them, they are not allowed to return to the spiritual world. In layman's terms, this means that as long as we want to stay in the material world, we are allowed to do so.

As previously mentioned, the natural home for the spirit soul is the spiritual world, where Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, resides. We get information from the Vedas that Kṛṣṇa's spiritual realm represents the eternal heaven, a place where we never have to return from. Since Kṛṣṇa is God, there is no difference between His body and spirit, for they are both completely pure and free of material qualities. Kṛṣṇa's associates in the spiritual world also possess bodies similar to His, i.e. they too are free of material qualities. Since the spiritual world is our natural home, it is a place full of bliss and free of anxieties.

Note: In the 26th verse of the 7th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that He knows the past, present and future. Kṛṣṇa also knows all the living entities, but no one knows Him.

If the spiritual world is so great, why would we choose to remain in the material world? This is where the binding aspect of gunas takes hold. The material creation is governed by the forces of māyā, which literally means "that which is not". In simple terms, māyā tricks us into thinking that we'll be happier associating with matter rather than God. This illusory power is very strong, and it explains why it takes many many births before one can even realize the problem. Let's think about it this way: Only in the human species can we even understand what spirit is and that we are going to die. Fish, lions, tigers, bears, birds, etc., have no clue about these things. Let's go even one step further: How many people do we know that are actually aware of these laws of nature? How many people even realize that their material lives continue in a repeating cycle until spiritual perfection is achieved?

Note: In the 19th verse of the 7th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that after many births and deaths, one in full knowledge surrenders unto Vāsudeva, knowing Him to be the cause of all causes. Such a soul is indeed rare to find in this world.

Thus we see that those who seriously ponder spiritual matters are considered highly advanced. Still, even amongst those who are striving for self-realization, hardly one person will actually become successful in their current lifetime. This fact alone should tell us how strong a knot material nature has tied. So how do we break free of this knot? Just as Alexander the Great needed a sharp sword to cut through the Gordian Knot, we living entities require the sharpest of spiritual guides to help us break free of our attachment to matter. This spiritual guide is thus known as a sādhu, or one who cuts.

Many holy men, especially in India, are known as sādhus, so how do we know who is a bona fide spiritual guide and who isn't? The answer is that the sādhu must himself be free of attachment to matter. If such a person isn't attached to nature, then what do they do with their time? What are their activities? The real sādhus are those who are attached to the Supreme Spirit, Lord Kṛṣṇa. Though Kṛṣṇa resides in the spiritual world, He gladly expands Himself into various forms that are worshipable for the living entities residing within the material world. For example, since God is absolute, there is no difference between His personal form and His names, activities, and deities. The personal form may only reside in the spiritual world, but the names of God pervade throughout the millions of universes. Thus by regularly reciting the Lord's names, such as those found in the mahā-mantra, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare", we directly associate with the Supreme Spirit. Similarly, by reading about Kṛṣṇa's pastimes performed on earth, or those of His various incarnations, we directly associate with the Lord. The arcā-vigraha, or the worshipable form of the Lord found in the temple, is also just as good as Kṛṣṇa. If we view the deity and offer our obeisances to it, we are directly associating with Kṛṣṇa.

A sādhu can be recognized by his engagement in these aforementioned activities of devotional service. Moreover, the sādhus have no attachment to economic development, mundane religious practice, or sense gratification. The pure sādhu is already liberated, jīvan-mukta, so they have no desire for impersonal liberation either. Since they serve Kṛṣṇa all the time, they naturally help others ascend to the same platform. This is a benevolence the likes of which is not seen anywhere in the world. There are certainly great philanthropists and welfare workers who try to help the downtrodden. Yet this aid is of the material variety and only consists of providing the bare necessities. The sādhu is the most exalted person in the world, and instead of just helping people rise to a comfortable material position, the sādhu aims to turn others into bona fide sādhus themselves. The pure devotee wants nothing more than to see every person in the world surpass even their own level of devotion. They feel this way because they know that if every person becomes a pure devotee, Kṛṣṇa will be pleased. The sādhu doesn't mind going to hell or even offending others, as long as Kṛṣṇa is made happy.

This wonderful benevolence was on full display during one particular occasion involving Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. Rāma is one of Kṛṣṇa's primary incarnations who appeared on earth many many thousands of years ago to enact pastimes. His life's story is recorded in the famous Rāmāyaṇa compiled by Maharṣi Vālmīki. One of the major incidents of the Rāmāyaṇa was the kidnapping of Rāma's wife, Sītā Devī, from the forest. Lord Rāma assumed the role of a valiant warrior prince, the eldest son of the king of Ayodhyā. Sītā was His beautiful and chaste wife. The couple was roaming the forests of India for fourteen years along with Rāma's younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa, when Sītā was one day kidnapped by the demon Rāvaṇa. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa weren't around when this transpired, and upon learning of Sītā's disappearance, Rāma immediately gave way to grief and lamentation.

Let us try to put ourselves in Lakṣmaṇa's shoes for a moment. Our elder brother has just discovered that His beautiful wife is missing. She could be dead for all that we know. Rākṣasa demons are pretty vile, for they'll even eat human flesh. It is quite likely that Sītā was taken by Rāvaṇa, and what happened subsequent to that is anybody's guess. We love Rāma so much that we refused to let Him roam the forests alone, for the Lord was only in the forest due to an exile punishment handed down by His father, King Daśaratha. Placing ourselves in Lakṣmaṇa's position, we'd probably sit quietly and let Rāma release His grief. After all, who would want to anger a loved one during a time like this? What could we say anyway? If we did say anything, we'd probably use clichīs such as, "Don't worry, everything is going to be alright. We'll find Sītā. I'm sure she's safe and sound."

What avenue did Lakṣmaṇa end up choosing? Though he was also a warrior prince, Lakṣmaṇa was a pure devotee of God, meaning he was a sādhu. A sādhu is only interested in advancing Kṛṣṇa's cause, so he doesn't care about offending others. Their job is to help others break free of the illusion brought on by māyā. Lakṣmaṇa decided to impart some sound words of advice to Rāma, who was playing the role of a person distraught over misfortune. Lakṣmaṇa told his brother that His behavior was not becoming, nor was it in line with the duties of a prince. Lakṣmaṇa told Rāma that even if Sītā were dead, the Lord would have no reason to lament or grieve. Good and bad things happen to everyone, even to the celestials in heaven, the demigods. Moreover, the purpose of life is to remain committed to dharma, or one's occupational duty. Only by adhering to dharma can a person break free of the bonds of material nature.

In the above referenced statement, we see that Lakṣmaṇa, who had just put forth cutting words of logic and reason, was still kind in the end. He reminded Rāma that no one was capable of instructing Him. Moreover, Lakṣmaṇa was just repeating the same teachings that Rāma had taught him on many previous occasions. Thus we see that a real sādhu is one who has taken instruction directly from God, or one of His representatives. We should also take note that Lakṣmaṇa didn't claim to be God or tell Rāma to view every person as God. Nor did Lakṣmaṇa instruct Rāma to take shelter of the power of prayer. Many spiritual leaders advise these sorts of things, and though they may be well intentioned, in the end, such instruction does little to help anyone. Material fortunes come and go, so our business is not to bargain with God in the hopes of receiving gifts. Rather, our duty is to be firmly attached to the Lord and execute our prescribed duties with detachment to the fruits.

So how do Lakṣmaṇa's instructions apply to us? The pure devotees of Kṛṣṇa advise the people of this age to take to regularly chanting the mahā-mantra. Though in the beginning stages it is okay to start off with only chanting this mantra a few rounds per day on a set of japa beads, the ideal practice is to chant Hare Kṛṣṇa for a minimum of sixteen rounds per day. The sādhu doesn't care if we like him or if he's popular. He knows the truth and he's not afraid to speak it. The bona fide representative of Kṛṣṇa is one who follows the example of Lakṣmaṇa. By humbly submitting ourselves before such a person, we are sure to break free of the shackles that currently inhibit our spiritual growth.

# Chapter 26 - The Emblem of Loyalty

"O You of great intellect, not even the demigods can fathom the level of Your intelligence. Due to bereavement Your wisdom is currently in a dormant state, and I am here to rouse it." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.19)

Śrī Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma, is the emblem of loyalty. We can dig deep through the pages of written history and scour the earth, but we will never find a more loyal and praiseworthy figure than the beloved younger brother of the Supreme Personality of Godhead. His loyalty and dedication to Rāma shows us not only how to behave towards our own loved ones, but also how we are to attain the ultimate objective in life. Through unflinching loyalty to the Supreme Divine Entity, we can acquire all praiseworthy characteristics, while simultaneously advancing to the topmost platform of spiritual understanding.

Loyalty is considered laudable because it is an attribute not easily acquired. The living entity tends to act in its own self-interest; an interest which takes precedent over the interests of others. This behavior certainly isn't condemnable on the surface, for who wouldn't want to further their own condition? At the end of the day, we have to live with ourselves and the decisions we make, so who would want to take actions that would lead to misery? If we put the interests of others ahead of our own and end up miserable as a result, we'll likely blame others for our ill-temperament.

For these reasons, true loyalty is seldom displayed. In the world of sports, it is rare nowadays to see players play for the same team throughout their careers. In days past, free agency was limited, so a player didn't have much of a choice as to which team he could play for. Whichever team drafted him in the beginning of his career was the team he would likely play for throughout. Teams could always trade a player to another team, but the player had no say in this, so there was no dent made in their perceived loyalty.

With free agency, players in sports like baseball, basketball, football, and hockey could take their services elsewhere once their contracts expired. In the open marketplace, all workers are free agents in that they have a choice as to where they want to work. A professional sports league is more of a closed environment, so this freedom is limited. Free agency sought to introduce some of this mobility into the workings of the various leagues. As a result, it is quite common now to see teams drastically change from year to year. Once a star player is up for free agency - especially if they play for a team that doesn't take in much revenue - it is likely that they will go to another team that will pay them a higher salary.

In recent history, no one was more maligned for his free agency transition than the baseball player Alex Rodriguez. A star shortstop for the Seattle Mariners franchise, Rodriguez signed a deal with the Texas Rangers franchise which was, at the time, the most lucrative contract ever offered. Obviously the driving force behind the decision to switch teams was money, so many in the sports media took to criticizing him for his lack of loyalty. The Mariners couldn't come close to offering the same salary as the Rangers, so there was really no choice for Rodriguez, who was simply acting in his self-interest.

Loyalty shows that a person is not a miser. It shows that they are grateful for any and all services provided to them in good faith. Of all the persons to ever have traversed this earth, one would be hard pressed to find a more loyal person than Śrī Lakṣmaṇa. Lakṣmaṇa's stature is enhanced by the fact that he hadn't been offered much service from the object of his loyalty, his elder brother Rāma. In this way, Lakṣmaṇa's loyalty was not only unmatched and uninterrupted, but it was unmotivated. One could say that his behavior towards Rāma was driven out of love, but since there was no expectation of reciprocation, we cannot describe this love as being selfish in any way.

Lakṣmaṇa's loyalty was put to the test on many occasions, all of which were opportunities the great warrior prince looked forward to. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa roamed the earth many thousands of years ago during the Tretā Yuga. During that time period, royal orders took charge of the governments, and one of the most famous royal dynasties was the Ikṣvāku. According to Vedic information, the original system of knowledge for the world, Mahārāja Ikṣvāku was one of the first kings on earth, so he was the emblem of chivalry, honor, and good governance. Those following in his line took it upon themselves to live up to his standard. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa appeared in this dynasty as sons of Mahārāja Daśaratha. Rāma was the eldest son, and He had three younger brothers: Bharata, Lakṣmaṇa, and Śatrughna. As is natural in many families, the siblings sort of grouped together at a young age. Bharata and Śatrughna took a liking to each other, while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were inseparable. All three younger brothers were equally as pious and dedicated to Rāma, but Lakṣmaṇa couldn't live without Him. He refused to eat or sleep unless Rāma had done so first.

"O Lakṣmaṇa, do you rule this earth with Me. You are like My second self, so this glorious opportunity has been presented to you as well. O Saumitra, do you enjoy all the pleasures you desire and the fruits of the regal life. My life and this kingdom I covet for your sake alone." (Lord Rāma speaking to Lakṣmaṇa, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Ayodhyā Kanda, 4.43-44)

The most important day in a prince's life is the day the reins of the kingdom are handed to him. When this day came for Rāma, He kindly approached Lakṣmaṇa and asked him to rule the kingdom with Him. This showed that Rāma certainly loved Lakṣmaṇa very much. Unfortunately, Rāma's coronation would have to wait, as events took a dramatic turn for the worse. Through the disloyal and selfish actions of Bharata's mother, Kaikeyī, Rāma was forced to leave the kingdom and not return for fourteen years. Unbeknownst to him, Bharata was given the thrown, though he was away on business at the time. Ready to leave for the forest, Rāma said goodbye to Lakṣmaṇa, but the dutiful younger brother refused to let Rāma leave alone. Casting aside kith and kin, Lakṣmaṇa embarked for the forest with Rāma, where the two would live as mendicants not having any claim to the royal perks that rightfully belonged to them. Lord Rāma's beautiful and chaste wife, Sītā Devī, also insisted on accompanying the Lord in His sojourn through the wilderness.

While in the forest, Sītā would one day be kidnapped by a Rākṣasa demon named Rāvaṇa. The Rākṣasa devised a plan which temporarily lured Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa away from Sītā. Making the most of this short time period, the demon swooped in and took Sītā back to his island kingdom of Lanka. Upon returning to their cottage, Rāma realized that Sītā was missing. Giving way to lamentation and grief, Rāma lost His senses for a moment. Luckily for Him, His younger brother, the emblem of loyalty, the fearless fighter and defender of the innocent, Śrī Lakṣmaṇa, was with Him.

It is one thing to pledge allegiance to someone, but it is another to actually prove this loyalty. As the saying goes, "A friend in need is a friend indeed", true friendship and loyalty are measured during the bad times, not the good. It is easy to have friends and well-wishers when everything is going alright, but once the chips are down, once it looks like we are down and out, only our true friends stay with us. In Lakṣmaṇa's case, he never failed to step up to the plate. In fact, as the going got tougher, Lakṣmaṇa got stronger and stronger. This was evidenced by the fact that when he saw Rāma distraught and disheartened, he didn't sit back and allow the Lord to remain in a weakened state. That would have been the easy thing to do, but Lakṣmaṇa never took the easy road in life. His only dharma, or occupational duty, was service to his elder brother.

Dharma is a Vedic term that is often translated as religiosity, duty, piety, or plain religion. The idea behind dharma is that of an essential characteristic. This definition is more appropriate because whatever a person deems as their essential characteristic is what they will adopt as their way of life, or occupational duty. Thus the characteristic, or dharma, leads to the perceived prescribed duty. One's primary occupational duty can manifest through religion, piety, or religiosity; hence dharma is often equated to these terms. Vedic information states that every person assumes a different nature based on their karma, or the work they performed previously. Based on this nature, which unfolds in the form of consciousness, each person takes their essential characteristic to be something different. For instance, one person may deem themselves to be very scholarly. They feel that their essential characteristic is that of intelligence, so they take the acquisition of knowledge to be their dharma. Another person feels that their essential characteristic is one of a shrewd businessman whose aim it is to procure and enjoy as much wealth as possible. Thus they take to business as their occupational duty.

Note: In the 66th verse of the 18th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna to abandon all forms of religion [dharma] and simply surrender unto Him. By so doing, Arjuna would have no need to worry, for Kṛṣṇa would protect him from all sinful reaction.

Not only are there perceived primary characteristics, but secondary and tertiary ones as well. In this way, dharma gets applied to all areas of activity. There is even a dharma when it comes to building a house, i.e. a set of prescribed regulations that leads to the essential characteristic of a well-built housing structure. So there are many dharmas, but the Vedas tell us that there is one characteristic that reigns supreme. Not only does this characteristic trump all others, but it is actually the same for every form of life. This essential characteristic is that of a loving servant to the Supreme Divine Entity. The individuals are spirit souls at the core, and the Personality of Godhead is the Supreme Soul. The natural order of things is for the individual to be in constant association with the Supreme. This gives transcendental pleasure to both parties, so it is deemed the ultimate favorable condition. Those who take the reattachment of this connection as their foremost occupational duty, the most favorable and important characteristic to acquire, will be abiding by the highest dharma.

Lakṣmaṇa was a great warrior who was equally as powerful in battle as Rāma. Lord Rāma had previously killed 14,000 attacking Rākṣasa demons in one sitting so to speak. In this way, He proved to be more than an ordinary man. Others might be tempted to challenge the notion that Rāma is God, but simply based off His activities we can understand His divine nature. This doesn't even touch on the fact that the Vedas mention in many different places, in many different books, that Śrī Rāma is the same original Divine Being who happens to appear on earth in the guise of a human being. Moreover, Rāma was of the topmost character, someone who never openly claimed to be God. We know He is the Supreme Lord based off His activities, and also based on the loyalty shown to Him by Lakṣmaṇa. While others may take shelter of their own concocted dharmas, which result in the deification of various fallible entities and objects, the bhaktas, or devotees, are more than happy "taking their chances" worshiping Rāma. Simply put, if someone as loyal, noble, and wonderful as Śrī Lakṣmaṇa tells us that Rāma is God, we will believe him. The gods created by the sense demands are always letting us down, but Śrī Lakṣmaṇa never does. We will gladly follow him to heaven or hell, for simply hearing of his love and devotion to Rāma is enough to keep us satisfied in any and all situations.

Seeing Rāma lamenting over the loss of His wife, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in and offered some sound words of advice. He essentially advised Rāma to shake the incident off and continue with His search. His duties as a kṣatriya prince called for Him to protect the innocent. Sītā was in a dangerous situation, so it was Rāma's duty to try to save her. In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa is reminding Rāma that since He is the Supreme Lord, no one is capable of providing Him instruction. Since Lakṣmaṇa is the emblem of loyalty to Rāma, he kindly listened to all the instructions provided by the Lord on previous occasions. In this instance, Lakṣmaṇa is simply reminding Rāma of His own teachings. The Lord greatly appreciated this reminder and would go on to rescue Sītā and kill Rāvaṇa.

Lakṣmaṇa is the embodiment of the spiritual master, or guru. In order to succeed in reconnecting our spirit with the Supreme Spirit, we need someone to instruct us and show us the way in life. This shouldn't be a foreign concept to anyone. In order to learn how to read, write, and do arithmetic, we need a good teacher. To regain our essential characteristic of loving servant of the Supreme, we need the greatest teacher, one who himself is already attached at the hip to the Supreme Lord. No one is more attached than Lakṣmaṇa, so his example is the one to follow. The bona fide spiritual master is one who is as loyal towards the Supreme Lord as Lakṣmaṇa. In this way, when looking for a guru, it is quite easy to tell the pretenders from the contenders. If a spiritual master is not loyal to the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and instead takes himself to be God or their own interests to be supreme, they will never successfully rescue anyone from the perpetual cycle of birth and death brought on by karma. On the other hand, one who is loyal to the Supreme Lord – one who believes in His ever-existing, transcendental form - will save anyone they teach, even if their teachings aren't presented in an erudite manner.

Śrī Lakṣmaṇa, as a warrior prince by trade, wasn't outwardly viewed as a great scholar or spiritual master. Yet by remaining loyal to Rāma, he had acquired all the knowledge he needed to execute his prescribed duty in life: service to the Lord. By following his example, we can never go wrong. Anyone who associates with this divine prince, who is himself a partial incarnation of Lord Viṣṇu, will surely acquire the greatest attribute known to man: loyalty to the Supreme Lovable Object, Śrī Rāma.

# Chapter 27 - Waking Up

"O You of great intellect, not even the demigods can fathom the level of Your intelligence. Due to bereavement Your wisdom is currently in a dormant state, and I am here to rouse it." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.19)

Sleep is definitely something we need, but at the same time, we don't want to be asleep when fun things are happening. In these situations, we prefer to be wide awake so we can enjoy the experience. In a similar manner, spiritual life is meant to provide unending bliss to the soul. In our conditioned state, we are forgetful of this fact, so in order to rekindle the internal spiritual spark inside, we need someone to wake us up from the long slumber that we have been in.

Sleep equates to inactivity, so in Vedic terminology it is considered to be part of the mode of ignorance or darkness. Darkness and ignorance are essentially the same thing when discussing the issue of knowledge, for one who can't see due to the absence of light will always be in ignorance. The daylight hours are much more fruitful since we can see everything clearly and go about our business without any impediments. The mode of ignorance consists of any activity which negatively affects us, or in the more strict definition, any activity which is lacking in intelligence or passion. It is obvious to see why too much sleep would be considered an activity devoid of intelligence and passion. We certainly aren't acting with any knowledge when we sleep. Since the mind works in mysterious ways, we don't even have control over what we will dream about. We don't really acquire any knowledge while sleeping because we aren't even able to think clearly. Acquiring knowledge requires thoughts and ideas to be taken into the brain, processed, and then formed into conclusions. When we sleep, we are unable to take in any new information, thus we have nothing new to process cognitively.

Sleep is also lacking in passion because we're not actively working for a desired result. Sleep is the antithesis of activity, so there is essentially no progress made towards a positive outcome. This isn't to say that resting isn't required. Lord Kṛṣṇa tells us in the Bhagavad-gītā that the true yogi doesn't sleep too much or too little. Everything is done in moderation. So what are the effects of oversleeping? For starters, we'll miss out on activities of interest. If we oversleep during a weekday, we will be late for work or school. This means that we will miss out on earning money at work or taking in new information at school. Ironically enough, oversleeping actually keeps us tired throughout the day, for the body becomes accustomed to inactivity.

Though sometimes we may think that sleeping all day would be fun, none of us would really prefer this lifestyle. Though sleep provides temporary relief from life's pressures, there is no enjoyment in inactivity. So how do we conquer this desire to sleep? We must be active. We must have something that keeps us awake at night and gets us out of bed early in the morning. We have certainly experienced these situations in our lifetime. For example, young children love to stay up late on weekends. They'll do whatever they can - watch television or play video games - in order to stay awake for as long as possible. On the other side of the equation, if we have something to do in the morning hours, we will make sure to get up on time. Nothing will get us up in the morning faster than if we have a plane to catch or a big meeting to attend. In these instances, sleep is of secondary concern.

Thus we see that the antidote for sleep is activity, or passion. It is more important to sleep to live, rather than live to sleep. Though passionate activity can break us away from our desire to sleep, it won't help us in the spiritual sense. One may ask what the difference is. The answer is that every activity can be classified as material or spiritual. In the simplest definition, material activity can be thought of as anything that pertains to the development of the body.

Material activity is what constitutes karma. Most of us are familiar with this term already. If we see something bad happen to someone else, we'll say, "Oh, they must have had bad karma.", or, "Oh, they had this coming to them for a long time. From all the bad things they did previously, they accumulated so much bad karma." So we associate karma with positive and negative fruitive results. This is certainly one valid definition for karma, but on a higher level, the term really pertains to any activity that leads to the further development of the body. When we speak of good and bad results, we are referring to conditions that affect the body, which is a covering consisting of both gross and subtle elements.

The subtle material elements are mind, intelligence, and false ego. Thus any fruitive result which leads to our happiness can be thought of as something that positively affects the subtle element of the mind. In a similar manner, good fortune such as wealth, fame, and beauty is beneficial to the gross elements, i.e. the outer body consisting of visible elements. The laws of karma are so intricate that the results of fruitive activity aren't only seen in the current lifetime. Rather, karma also affects what type of body we receive in the next life. "The next life you say?" Yes, our soul is eternal but our bodies are not. Our current life is by no means the first one we've had. The soul never takes birth nor dies.

Based on these facts, we see that birth actually refers to the time when our soul accepted its current material covering. Even our current material covering changes, for we don't have the same body that we used to have during our childhood. Birth and death refer to the body that we currently identify with. Thus karma affects the fortunes of the current and future outer coverings. Moreover, the activities we performed in previous lives determined the circumstances of our current birth and the body we received.

There is another type of activity, however, which is not related to karma. Since karma relates to the development of the material body, it has no bearing on the soul. The soul, or ātmā, forms the basis of our identity, and it is unchanging. The soul never changes in quality, but it does have one defect: it cannot determine where it will remain on its own. Free-will is certainly an essential characteristic of the soul, but the results of freedom are not in the hands of the soul. Since the soul's movement is limited, it must associate with the senses it acquires while contained within a material body. In this sense, the soul appears to be trapped, for the gross senses will cause the soul to perpetually remain inside of a material dress through the laws of karma.

Note: In the 6th verse of the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa states that whatever nature one remembers while quitting their body at the time of death, that state of being they will attain in the next life without fail.

Luckily for us there is another soul that resides side by side with our individual soul. This soul is known as the Supersoul, or Paramātmā, and is a direct expansion of God. The Supreme Lord is so nice that He kindly expands Himself as the Supersoul and resides within the heart of every living entity. The Supersoul is a neutral observer, someone who is unaffected by karma. Since it is a direct representation of God, the Paramātmā cannot be subject to the material forces.

So if the Paramātmā is a neutral observer, why is it even inside our body? Couldn't God just remain in the spiritual world and let everything happen on its own? He most certainly could do this, but He'd rather try to help awaken our dormant love for Him. Material activities are dictated by the demands of the senses, i.e. the body. Spiritual activities, however, are dictated by the Supersoul, the Supreme Spirit. Karma relates to the development of the material body, whereas spiritual activity relates to the future condition of the soul. It is not that the soul changes or acquires new attributes, but rather it evolves. This evolution occurs through a changing of bodies. If one engages exclusively in spiritual activities, the future development of the material body ceases. This development stops because one is guaranteed to receive a spiritual body in the next life. When one receives a spiritual body, they ascend to the spiritual planets, where God Himself personally resides. Anyone who goes there never has to leave.

So the formula seems straightforward enough. Take direction from the Supersoul and awaken from our sleeping state. But one question remains. How do we talk to the Supersoul? How do we take direction from it? The answer is that we must approach a pure devotee of the Lord, someone who has seen the truth. The Supersoul dictates from within, but one has to know how to see the Supersoul. This is where the spiritual master, or guru, comes in. The spiritual master guides us in the performance of spiritual activities, an engagement which will allow us to take direction from the Supersoul.

One of the greatest spiritual masters is Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. The Vedas tell us that there is only one God, and that His original form is that of Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa, who is thus known as the Supreme Personality of Godhead. To kindly lend His assistance to the devotees on earth, Kṛṣṇa periodically appears in the guise of a human being. One such appearance occurred many thousands of years ago when the Lord incarnated as the prince of Ayodhyā, Lord Rāma. Rāma had three younger brothers, of whom Lakṣmaṇa was the one closest to Him in affection. Lakṣmaṇa followed Rāma wherever He went, even when the Lord was exiled to the forest for fourteen years.

Both Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were married at the time of the exile punishment. Rāma's beautiful wife, Sītā Devī, insisted on coming along, so the three travelled through the woods together for many years. On one unfortunate occasion, Sītā was kidnapped by the demon Rāvaṇa. This all happened while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were not with her. Upon returning to the campsite and seeing that Sītā was missing, Rāma immediately gave way to lamentation. He couldn't live without His most precious Sītā, who was devoted to Him in thought, word, and deed.

At this time, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in and offered some sound words of advice. He told Rāma not to lament and to remain firm on the path of dharma, or occupational duty. He instructed Rāma that even if Sītā were dead, it was still His duty to fight on and not lament, for every person must suffer through gain and loss in life. In essence, Lakṣmaṇa was serving as Rāma's spiritual master, awakening Him from His sleeping state. How could Lakṣmaṇa instruct God? In the above referenced statement, we see that even Lakṣmaṇa knew that no one could teach Rāma anything. Lakṣmaṇa had actually learned all these pertinent facts relating to loss and gain from Rāma on many previous occasions, and was thus only repeating Rāma's own instructions back to Him. Moreover, Lakṣmaṇa reiterated that he was simply trying to arouse knowledge that already existed inside of Rāma. The Lord very much appreciated His younger brother's counsel. This is the way the Supreme Pleasure Giver operates with His devotees. He has so much love and affection for them that He creates circumstances where they can shine. The Lord understands that people will chastise and criticize Him from time to time, which He is fine with, but He never wants to see His devotees criticized. Therefore He takes every opportunity to glorify them.

The lesson here is that we don't know what the future holds. Even if we take to passionate activity and avoid sleep, we don't know what karma will have in store for us. It is better to take shelter of the divine energy, represented by spiritual activity. The great devotees of the Lord advise everyone in this age to take to the simplest spiritual practice of them all, the chanting of the holy names of God, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". Chanting, along with hearing, are the two most effective processes of devotional service. People engaged in such spiritual activity will slowly learn how to take direction from the Supersoul and thus reawaken their loving propensity towards the Supreme Lord.

# Chapter 28 - Spending Capital

"O best of the Ikṣvākus, considering Your powerful divine and human capabilities, please strive for the destruction of Your enemies." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.20)

The possession and spending of political capital are pretty important concepts in the area of public policy. Capital usually relates to assets or something which has money-earning potential. In the business world, money earned hopefully equates to profit, so if a person possesses capital it means they have something in their possession which can be used to further their interest, i.e. profit. It is very important to not let this capital go to waste, for if we have a chance to go after what we want, we should take full advantage; "opportunity knocks" as the famous saying goes. While this principle holds true in our business and public policy ventures, it takes on an even greater importance in the area of spirituality and the dissemination of spiritual information.

The importance of having capital and spending it can be easily illustrated in the political realm. Let us examine what occurs when a new President takes office in America. Generally, there is a "honeymoon period" where Congress lets its guard down in relation to fighting with the new President. In today's day and age, every issue is fought vigorously at the political level. This is because not only are the leaders elected through a democratic process, but so is legislation. Aside from the elections of the many members of Congress, there are many votes that take place in specific committees, on the floor of the House and Senate, and then in conference committee. With so many votes taking place, there is a constant struggle for power. Just changing the minds of a few members of Congress can turn a failing bill into a passing one.

When a new President takes office, they usually inherit some political capital. This means that the country at large is optimistic and is willing to give the "new guy" the benefit of the doubt. So if a new President wants to pass a certain piece of legislation, it is best to try to push it forward during this period. The general theory is that if a politician has political capital, he or she should spend it; otherwise it goes to waste. How does this happen? The news cycle changes every minute of every day. The news media acts like drive-by shooters in a way, jumping into a story, firing a few bullets, causing random chaos, and then jumping on to a new story. This may seem like a harsh analogy, but it is undoubtedly true. News organizations have deadlines to meet and cover stories to write, so they aren't overly concerned with the fallout to their news coverage. It is more important to have a story and release it than it is to worry about what happens after the story is printed.

This situation leads to a constantly changing political climate. One minute a President could have very high approval ratings, and the next minute not. Thus one never knows how long their political capital will last. It is best to push forward your agenda when you are popular and things are in your favor than when they are not. The President is deemed to have the bully pulpit, a term which references the fact that people listen when the President speaks. White house press conferences and speeches are covered by media outlets around the world. Even if the President sneezes or accidentally falls down, word about the incident spreads across the world. So if a President does have political capital to spend, he should not hesitate to go forward with his agenda. A high ranking administration official in America recently made the statement that "a crisis is a terrible thing to waste", referring to how citizens are more apt to accept drastic legislation in the aftermath of a national disaster, natural or economic.

Capital boils down to capability. If one is capable of performing some type of activity, especially pertaining to one's occupational duties, and fails to act, then it is quite a shame. The concept of nonviolence has gained in popularity over the past hundred years or so. It seems very nice on the surface. "Don't inflict harm to anyone else." This is a good principle to live by because we wouldn't want anyone to hurt us unnecessarily. But what about dealings with aggressors? What if someone attacks us or one of our family members? What if someone breaks into our house and tries to steal our possessions? The Vedas, the ancient scriptures of India, tell us that it is our duty to protect ourselves and our dependents. If we have the ability to thwart such attacks, we are required to do so. If we fail to act in these situations, we are liable in the eyes of nature.

This should make sense to us. For instance, the primary role of government is to provide protection. Since life is generally peaceful in the Western countries, people often overlook this inherent duty of government. Rather, many people believe that the government's job is to take care of the "little guy", to level the playing field, or to go after the wealthy. While these may or may not be noble activities, government only exists to provide protection to society at large. Each one of us has a natural right to protect ourselves and our property, and thus government is an outgrowth of that right. If the government should fail to protect us from the bad guys, we would be left with anarchy and chaos. Government officials, especially those in the police force and military, have an obligation to protect the innocent civilians.

The Vedas tell us that each of us is born with certain qualities. We are all equal in a spiritual sense; i.e. we're all spirit souls, part and parcel of God. But to live in this world, we assume different forms that possess different characteristics. Thus there can never be an equality of outcomes, as is so longed for by many. Since each of us possess different qualities, we naturally will have different desires and thus perform different work. In any society, there will be a group of people who are braver than the rest. This group will be chivalrous, strong, and prone to fighting under ethical guidelines. Since not every person will possess these qualities, it is incumbent upon those who do to take up the responsibility of protecting others. Should these people fail to abide by their duties, their skills and attributes essentially go to waste. If a person belongs to the warrior class of men, but takes up the occupational duties of a different class, who will be left to provide protection?

This concept holds true for each person in relation to their occupational duties and their qualities. Not only should the defenders defend, but the intelligent should teach. This was the example set by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. God is our supreme object of pleasure, and due to His causeless mercy, He kindly appears on earth from time to time to let us bask in that pleasure. Not only does the Lord descend to earth for the pleasure of the devotees, but He also comes to deal with the miscreants.

Note: In the 8th verse of the 4th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that in millennium after millennium, the Lord appears on earth to reestablish the principles of religion [dharma], give protection to the devotees [sādhūnāṁ], and punish the miscreants [duṣkṛtām].

Aren't all of us sinners? Shouldn't God be here all the time to deal with all of us? We are all most certainly sinners to some degree or another, so the Lord doesn't use that as justification for His appearances. In general, the Lord is neutral towards everyone since all of us are involved in some type of karmic activity. Karma refers to actions performed for the advancement of our bodily condition. In this respect, there is really no "good" or "bad" bodily condition as it relates to spiritual life. So when and why does God appear? He comes to give protection to His devotees. A person who loves God and spends all their time serving Him has no association with karma. The Lord certainly appreciates such service and He never wants to see it interrupted. Devotional service is executed perfectly when it is unmotivated and uninterrupted.

Where does the interruption come from? As we all know, not everyone is keen on spirituality. On the extreme end, there are many who are openly against spirituality and will do whatever they can to thwart the religious activities of others. When the strength of such demons becomes too great, the Lord personally descends to earth and deals with the situation. This was the case with Lord Rāma, who appeared in Ayodhyā many thousands of years ago. When the Lord comes to earth, His form is referred to as an avatāra, which means one who descends. Where is He coming from? The spiritual world, Vaikuṇṭha, a place free of anxieties, is the eternal home of the Lord and His non-different expansions. Though there are many religious systems, there is only one God, and He is for everyone. The Vedas tell us that God has many names in accordance with His infinite qualities and spiritual activities. His original name and form is Kṛṣṇa, who then kindly expands Himself into other forms which also reside in the spiritual world. When the avatāra appears on earth, it is usually one of Kṛṣṇa's expansions who makes the descent.

Appearing in the guise of a kṣatriya, or warrior, Rāma's duty was to provide protection to the innocent. In those days, the Tretā Yuga, governments were run by the warrior class. We shouldn't think of it as the military men riding around with tanks and machine guns imposing marshal law on everyone. On the contrary, the kings were quite chivalrous during those times, and they didn't perform any activity without first consulting the priestly class of men, the brāhmaṇas. Lord Rāma, being God Himself, obviously didn't require any counsel from anyone, for He was the Brahman that the brāhmaṇas were well aware of.

Not only was Rāma extremely intelligent, but so was His younger brother Lakṣmaṇa. On one occasion, the two brothers were in the forest along with Rāma's wife, Sītā, when she was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. This infamous deed went down while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were not by Sītā's side to protect her. Upon returning to their cottage, Rāma saw that Sītā was missing, so He immediately felt tremendous grief. He started asking the flowers and trees if they had seen her. Then He took to anger and was ready to destroy the whole world as revenge for His wife being taken away from Him.

At this time, Lakṣmaṇa kindly stepped in and offered some sound words of advice. The above referenced statement was part of his concluding remarks. We see that Lakṣmaṇa wholly recognized Rāma's divinity and fighting ability. He essentially told Rāma, "You are more than capable of defeating anyone in this world. Therefore it is Your duty to get up and try to find Sītā. If someone has taken her or hurt her, then it is Your duty to kill them, something which You can easily do." This one statement by Lakṣmaṇa is important for two reasons. If a person is capable of defeating enemies, it is their duty to take the necessary actions to do so. If the heroic lie down and give way to lamentation, what hope is there for anyone else? People will have no one to look to for help, and they will feel as if they are not protected. This predicament is part of the storyline of your average Hollywood action movie. The hero goes through some troubling circumstance and seriously contemplates giving up. The people then are left to cower in fear of the enemy.

Lord Rāma obviously didn't need this advice, but He certainly appreciated it. The Lord would heed Lakṣmaṇa's words and resume His search for Sītā, eventually finding her and killing Rāvaṇa in the process. The second lesson we can take away from Lakṣmaṇa's statement is that if we have knowledge on spiritual matters, we should take every opportunity we can to disseminate that information to others. Lakṣmaṇa was Rāma's younger brother, and thus a subordinate. Moreover, Lakṣmaṇa looked at Rāma as his father, an object of worship. In this troubling situation, seeing his elder brother's intelligence taken away by grief, it would have been understandable if Lakṣmaṇa just sat silently and said nothing. But Lakṣmaṇa was an intelligent devotee, having been taught about dharma and spirituality many times previously by Lord Rāma Himself. Thus Lakṣmaṇa didn't hesitate to correct his brother, in the end reminding Rāma that he was just reiterating the same teachings the Lord had imparted on him on previous occasions.

So how do Lakṣmaṇa's teachings relate to us? First off, we are all blessed with the human form of life; a form which, in the opinion of the Vedas, is considered most auspicious. Why is this so? It is only in the human form of life that we can understand who we are, what our relationship to God is, and how we can break out of the repeated cycle of birth and death. So immediately upon taking birth, we human beings possess capital in the sense that we can work towards acquiring spiritual profit. If we don't spend this capital, if we don't take the necessary steps to understand God, we are no more advanced than the animals.

Note: In the 128th verse of the 7th chapter of the Madhya-līlā of the Śrī Caitanya Caritāmṛta, Lord Caitanya advises that we should speak the instructions of Lord Kṛṣṇa as found in the Bhagavad-gītā and Śrīmad Bhāgavatam to whomever we meet. In this way, under Lord Caitanya's order, we can become a spiritual master and try to deliver all the people of the land.

Then there are those who have been fortunate enough to learn about Kṛṣṇa by reading the Bhagavad-gītā or by hearing from other devotees. For such fortunate souls, it is their duty to try their best to spread this same information to as many people as possible. It doesn't mean that we all have to take up the renounced order of life and open up hundreds of temples around the world. This certainly would be nice, but it's not required. The simplest way to teach others about Kṛṣṇa is to always speak about Him and to always chant His names, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". Chanting is one way to teach others, but we can also talk about Kṛṣṇa's pastimes, explain why the soul is more important than the body, etc. There are so many little things that we can do that will go a long way towards spreading God consciousness around the world. We should have no fear in this respect, for we all have some capability in this area. There is nothing lost in the process, while there is everything to be gained. Spiritual knowledge is a terrible thing to waste, so we should make the most of the opportunities we have. This was the path taken by Lakṣmaṇa, and we are forever grateful to him for the example he set.

# Chapter 29 - Destroying Our Foes

"O best of the Ikṣvākus, considering Your powerful divine and human capabilities, please strive for the destruction of Your enemies." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.20)

Enemies come in all different shapes and sizes. There are personal enemies; other people that we don't like or who harass us on a regular basis. Then there are demons inside of us; those things that we are addicted to or thoughts that we can't get rid of. Regardless of the nature of the enemy, they must be defeated. This is important because if we leave the enemy alone and don't deal with them, there is nothing to stop them from attacking again. The destruction of the enemy is a requirement for there to be peace of any kind.

Those who have attacked us before are more than likely to attack us again. This is a concept which is easily understood but often forgotten. Vyāsadeva's magnum opus, the celebrated epic of the Vedic tradition, the Mahābhārata, details the plight of five brothers whose kingdom was stolen away from them. Mahābhārata literally means "great India", so it contains many stories relating to spirituality and historical events from days past. This great work shines the spotlight of attention on the five sons of Pāṇḍu, who was a great king who died prematurely due to a curse. Though his sons were the proper heirs to the kingdom, it was Pāṇḍu's brother, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, who allowed his own sons, headed by Duryodhana, to unlawfully usurp control over the kingdom.

Duryodhana didn't stop at taking over the kingdom unlawfully. He hatched various schemes that constantly put the Pāṇḍava brothers and their mother, Kuntī Devī, in trouble. He even tried to kill all of them many times, but each time they were saved. Who came to the rescue? The Pāṇḍava brothers were related to Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Sometimes people refuse to accept the fact that God can have a name or a form, so they refer to Him as the Divine. Regardless of how we refer to God, there is no doubt that He can appear on earth from time to time depending on His own whim. Though we can't enumerate every appearance, the Vedas give us a list of the more important ones. Lord Kṛṣṇa is actually considered the original form of God, so when He appears on earth, He comes in His original body which is full of bliss and knowledge.

God doesn't have any father or mother; He is ādi-puruṣaṁ, or the original person. Nevertheless, to perform His activities on earth, He gives the appearance of accepting parents. When the Lord enacted His pastimes on earth some five thousand years ago, His father was Vasudeva. Vasudeva's sister was Queen Kuntī, the mother of the Pāṇḍava brothers. Thus Kṛṣṇa was cousins with Yudhiṣṭhira, Arjuna, Bhīma, Nakula, and Sahadeva; the five Pāṇḍava brothers. Not only was Kṛṣṇa related to these great warriors, but He favored them very much. They were all great devotees and pious souls, thus the Lord had no qualms about showing favoritism to them. In one of His most celebrated pastimes, Lord Kṛṣṇa accepted the position of driver for Arjuna's chariot during the great Bhārata war.

Duryodhana tried to kill the Pāṇḍavas in so many ways, but each time the brothers were miraculously saved through Kṛṣṇa's intervention. Eventually the brothers had enough and were contemplating going to war with Duryodhana and his side of the family. The brothers were on the fence, since they didn't want to have to kill family members, including several exalted personalities such as Bhīṣmadeva and Droṇācārya, who were fighting for the other side. Queen Kuntī very much was in favor of going to war, for she knew that the kingdom rightfully belonged to her sons. Lord Kṛṣṇa also intervened in this instance, agreeing with Kuntī.

Usually when we think of religion and spirituality, we think of peacefulness, kindness, and nonviolence. All of us are God's children, so why would we want to harm anyone else? The Supreme Absolute Truth can be realized through several different features, one of which is the all-pervading effulgence consisting of everything material and spiritual. This feature is known as Brahman, and we are all part of it. This means that we are all equal to each other in a spiritual sense. Since no one person is better than the other, it would make sense that violence wouldn't be necessary. Yet Lord Kṛṣṇa was in favor of going to war on this occasion. His primary reasoning was that Duryodhana was a great enemy of the Pāṇḍava family. If the Pāṇḍavas forgave all Duryodhana's transgressions and allowed him to continue ruling over their kingdom, there would be nothing to stop him from sparking future attacks. Kṛṣṇa made the cogent point that the most dangerous enemies in this world are those we have had quarrels with in the past. These enemies become even more dangerous if we have previously defeated them.

This principle was exhibited by King Jarāsandha in his behavior towards Kṛṣṇa. Jarāsandha was not happy that Kṛṣṇa had killed his friend, King Kaṁsa. This anger led him to attack the Lord on several occasions. Lord Kṛṣṇa easily thwarted all the attacks, but He didn't kill Jarāsandha personally. Rather, the Lord built an underwater kingdom of Dvaraka to act as a fort to protect His citizens from outside attacks. Jarāsandha was defeated over and over again by Kṛṣṇa, but that didn't stop him at all. Instead, he just came back each time with more and more anger. Eventually Lord Kṛṣṇa manipulated events in such a way that a wrestling match was set up between Jarāsandha and Bhīma, the strongest of the Pāṇḍava brothers. Bhīma defeated Jarāsandha and tore his body in half, thus killing him.

Eventually the Pāṇḍava brothers decided in favor of going to war, and with the help of Kṛṣṇa, they would end up victorious. These lessons apply to us because we have so many demons in our life, most of which are internal. The famous adage says that you can't ignore your problems and hope to have them go away. This certainly holds true with our personal demons. If we have a foe that we have previously defeated, such as lust, greed, or anger, it is more than likely that the same enemy will come back to fight us again. Thus it is important to completely eliminate our enemies if we have the capability to do so.

This was the point stressed by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma, many thousands of years ago. If our enemies are other human beings, attacking them isn't always ideal. Not all of us are meant to be fighters. This is why we have governments, great entities that are tasked with providing protection to the innocent. In this way, the responsibility of eradicating miscreants falls on the shoulders of our protectors, i.e. the government leaders. Many thousands of years ago, the very same Lord Kṛṣṇa appeared on earth as a handsome and pious warrior prince named Rāma. Since Lord Rāma appeared in a famous dynasty of kings, the Ikṣvākus, it was His duty to provide protection to the innocent.

On one occasion, Rāma's beautiful and kind wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Rāvaṇa and his associates were not only enemies of Rāma, but of almost everyone in society as well. Rāvaṇa was a noteworthy demon whose rise and fall are well chronicled in the epic Rāmāyaṇa compiled by Maharṣi Vālmīki. As the result of a curse given by the sage Viśravā, Rāvaṇa was born as a Rākṣasa with ten heads and a ghoulish figure. Rāvaṇa's mother was jealous that his step-brother, Kuvera, had acquired so much good fortune and wealth as a result of performing austerities that she influenced Rāvaṇa into taking up even great austerities. Thus the demon pleased Lord Brahmā and was duly rewarded with many boons, including immunity in battle against all living entities except human beings.

Rāvaṇa, being a non-devotee, used his powers for evil instead of good. He immediately went on to defeat many demigods, leaving others to run for cover. He and his Rākṣasa associates drove Kuvera out of the island kingdom of Lanka and took it over for themselves. But this wasn't the height of his atrocities. Rāvaṇa especially liked to harass the saintly class of men, the great sages who had taken refuge in the forests. The Rākṣasas would perform sneak attacks on the sages, disrupting their sacrifices and then killing them.

When Rāma initially found out that Sītā was missing, He gave way to lamentation and grief. Who wouldn't be saddened by such an unfortunate event? It would make sense that Rāma would have to sit down for a little while and collect His thoughts. Yet the Lord went a little further than this. He was ready to destroy the entire creation as revenge for Sītā's kidnap. Lakṣmaṇa, the ever-faithful and compassionate younger brother, at this time stepped in and offered some sound words of advice to Rāma.

In the above referenced statement, we see that Lakṣmaṇa is telling Rāma to get up and go after the demons, keeping in mind His great strength. Not only did Rāma possess great human strength, but He had all divine qualities as well. This isn't surprising considering that Rāma was an incarnation of God. Lakṣmaṇa's point was that it was important for Rāma to go after His enemies for two reasons. The obvious reason was that Sītā had been taken away from Him, and thus any person who kidnaps an innocent married woman should certainly be punished. Moreover, if Rāma didn't go after the Rākṣasas, who would? If the kidnappers of women and the killers of sages were to be pardoned for their actions, what would stop them from committing the same atrocities in the future? Everything worked out in the end, as Rāma indeed would take Lakṣmaṇa's advice and resume His search for Sītā, eventually finding the princess and killing Rāvaṇa in the process.

Note: In the 6th verse of the 6th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa states that to the living entity who has controlled the mind, the mind is a friend; but to one who, through enmity, has failed to control the mind, the mind acts as an enemy.

We living entities have a similar dilemma confronting us. We certainly aren't God, and most of us aren't tasked with protecting the innocent. Yet this doesn't mean that we don't have our own demons to deal with. The Vedas tell us that the human form of life is considered the most auspicious due to the intelligence factor. We can actually realize this fact on our own. We are much smarter than any other species, for we even know that we are going to die. But what should we do with this intelligence? Should we use it to find ways to make our lives more comfortable? This is the avenue that many of us choose, but we see that success is never achieved in this venture.

The rich and famous show us the deficiencies of comfortable living. Though they have everything they could ever want right at their fingertips, the wealthy will often take to opening schools, hospitals, and to giving away money to charity as a way of life. This speaks to the reality that increased happiness is achieved through service to others. In the pursuit for material success, we are serving our own senses, hoping that by acquiring life's comforts our miseries will go away. When the miseries remain, we take to helping others.

Philanthropy and charity may be noble and well-intentioned engagements, but they still don't provide everlasting pleasure. Once the flickering happiness goes away, pain will surely follow. Our inner-demons, the mind and the senses, are the sources of this pain. For the conditioned living entities, the senses are under the control of māyā. Māyā means that which is not, so her forces lead us to chasing things that are not what they seem. When the senses are under māyā's control, they constantly ask for satisfaction. "Just give me some nice food and regular sexual relations, and you and I will both be happy." This is most certainly illusion because we see that overeating and illicit sex life actually lead to life's worst problems.

The senses bewilder the mind and lead to the chase after illusion. So what can be done about this? How do we attack our senses? Doesn't attacking our senses equate to suicide or personal harm? The way to defeat the enemy known as māyā is to change our object of service, our ultimate object of affection. In the conditioned state, our senses are under the control of material nature, but in the perfected stage, the senses act according to the direction of the master of all senses, God. Since Lord Kṛṣṇa is the owner and controller of the sum total of all senses, one of His names is Hṛṣīkeśa. The only way to defeat our inner demons is to put ourselves under the control of Hṛṣīkeśa.

This seems nice in theory, but how do we actually go about doing it? To find the answer, we must revisit the issue of service. When we offer our service to the senses or to the senses of others, the resulting pleasure is short-lived. To gain permanent happiness, we simply need to direct our service to God. There are many ways to do this, but in this age, the simplest method is the constant chanting of His names, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare". This shouldn't be mistakenly equated with the religious activities that most of us are accustomed to, where we approach God for some personal benefit. Service to God must be unmotivated and uninterrupted. Pure love for Kṛṣṇa means not wanting anything from Him in return.

Of course Kṛṣṇa is not so unkind as to not reciprocate our loving feelings. By taking up the chanting process, and devotional service in general, we slowly but surely put ourselves under the control of the divine energy. Not only does this constant engagement in spiritual activities shield us from the effects of māyā, but it also arms us with the sword of transcendental knowledge. Those who are intimately acquainted with this great system of knowledge realize their true potential in life. Demons are meant to be slain, especially by those who are capable of doing the slaying. This was the instruction given by Lakṣmaṇa to Rāma, but it applies to all of us as well. We should all take up devotional service, learn about God, read about Him, talk about Him, and spread His glories to others. Then all the unwanted elements in life will remain far away from us.

# Chapter 30 - Encouragement

"O best of the Ikṣvākus, considering Your powerful divine and human capabilities, please strive for the destruction of Your enemies." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.20)

It's not so easy to persuade an adult to do something. A child may be willing to take instruction, but the same person as an adult will likely put up more resistance. A mature adult realizes their independence and thus is more skeptical about being instructed. But as we experience with our own lives, the learning process never stops. No matter how old we get, there are still many things that we are unaware of. Thus we require the help of someone in the know, someone who has realized the Truth, to set us straight. Since adults are not as accepting of advice and counsel, the knowers of the Truth have to find different ways to get their message across. Encouragement and flattery are two of the techniques employed by those trying to impart the highest form of knowledge. These techniques prove to be very effective in teaching love and devotion to the Divine.

Most of us know how the basic life cycle works. You are born, play around for a few years, go to school, get married, have kids, and then die. We may know how the system works, but how many of us actually stop to think of why the cycle is the way that it is? For example, why do we have to go to school in our childhood? Most of us hate being trapped in a prison-like environment all day. School proprietors even realize this fact; thus elementary school children are allowed a recess period during the day where they can go out and run around to let out all their pent up energy.

The most obvious justification for our attending school in our younger years is that we are completely ignorant at the time of birth. A baby comes out of the mother's womb and immediately starts crying. The Vedas tell us that each of us has been on this earth many times before through the process of reincarnation. This is actually not very difficult to understand. We all at one time lived in the tiniest of bodies which was no larger than the size of a pea. We certainly don't remember having this body, but it is undoubtedly true that we survived through such a form in the womb of our mother. Our current body is the result of the maturation of that small pea-like form. In the same way that our current body evolves and changes, prior to our current birth we had a different body which had its own properties. Though the soul remains intact, the coverings constantly change. Thus when we come out of the womb of the mother, we are settling into our new body and surroundings. Essentially we have to get reacquainted with the environment that we have forgotten. Human life is especially beneficial because the potential for acquiring knowledge is great. At the time of birth, an infant is no smarter than a dog, cat, or other animal, yet the difference is that through proper training and guidance, the infant can gradually acquire knowledge that far surpasses that of any animal.

Proper training and guidance are the two key points. We must be taught how to read, write, and do arithmetic. But we see that it is the nature of the child to play all day. If we examine the typical day of an average four year old, we'll see that almost every waking hour is spent playing, watching television, or eating. So there is no natural desire to acquire knowledge in a formal setting, as there is say in the adult. Many adults often crave learning and being able to take in new information and remember it. Thus they try for advanced degrees and doctorates. But for children, this desire isn't really there.

If we don't want to go to school, how do we end up there for twelve consecutive years? Moreover, how do we wake up early every day and spend hours locked up in a classroom? The answer is that we are forced to. In America anyways, school is compulsory for children up until around the age of sixteen. This means that we have to go to school. But what if we say "no"? What if we flat out refuse to go to school? Obviously this situation will occur with some of us, but very quickly we realize that this is a losing battle. This is because, as children, we have no control. We are under the care and guidance of our parents. They are benevolent dictators in a sense; their word is final, though they may be lenient every now and then.

A common saying states that it is a shame that youth is wasted on the young. The meaning behind this is that youthfulness is such a wonderful thing because with it comes innocence, ambition, and lots of energy. The youngsters will always have more energy, stamina, and speed than the older generation. We see evidence of this in the world of sports. In tennis for example, it is not uncommon to see players retiring before they even hit the age of thirty. This is because as a player ages, their agility, stamina, and speed diminish. Moreover, new players arrive on the scene, many of whom are still teenagers. Though they may not have the composure, experience, and strategic intelligence possessed by the older generation, they have something equally as valuable: youth. The younger generation will slowly but surely take over the older generation. For the elderly, there is nothing they can do to stem the tide. "Ah, if only I was nineteen again", they'll think.

Attending school in our youth is certainly important due to the energy issue. It is much easier to get up early in the morning, stay in school for hours, and then come home and do homework when we are young than when we are older. But probably more important than the energy issue is the control issue. As youngsters, our parents and teachers can control us, so it is crucially important that this authority be used in the proper way. The Vedas tell us that the purpose of human life is to inquire about the Absolute Truth, Brahman. Brahman is just a fancy name for God that describes His feature as the all-encompassing spiritual energy.

Since the potential of human life can only be reached after one is properly educated, it is important for parents to force us to go to school. But what happens when we get older? As youngsters, if a parent or teacher forces us to do something, we really have no choice in the matter. We have to listen to them. If they tell us to do our homework or study for a test, we can't really say "no". With adults, however, the issue is different. In order to convince an adult to do something, an authority figure must use different tactics. Simply yelling and punishing won't do anything because eventually the adult will fight back. Once the fighting starts, respect is lost, as the authority figure loses their position of dominance. In order for adults to be guided, a teacher must appeal to the student's attributes, propping up and highlighting the good qualities. This was the technique employed by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma, many thousands of years ago.

Lord Rāma is one of the primary incarnations of Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. God reigns supreme over all; He is every person's dearmost friend. Due to His causeless mercy, He kindly appears on earth from time to time to enact pastimes, give pleasure to His devotees, and punish the miscreants. To increase the enjoyment felt by the devotees, the Lord usually assumes the guise of an ordinary human, one who possesses extraordinary capabilities. This was the case with Lord Rāma, who was a prince belonging to the famous Raghu dynasty. Rāma's unique capabilities were His tremendous fighting ability, chivalry, and compassionate nature towards all.

Since the Lord was kind and sweet, He didn't like to create enmity with anyone, especially His dependents and family members. On one occasion, Rāma was asked to spend fourteen years in the forest, living as an exile from His hometown of Ayodhyā. Rāma was a married adult at the time, so He easily could have objected to the order, but since it was given by His father, Rāma took it as His most important duty. Lord Rāma never wanted His father to be considered a liar, thus when He was asked to do something, He listened right away. Taking His younger brother Lakṣmaṇa and His wife Sītā Devī with Him, the Lord embarked for His fourteen year journey through the wilderness.

Unfortunately, while in the forest, Sītā would be kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. When Rāma came to know that Sītā was missing, He gave way to lamentation and grief. He started walking around the woods and asking the trees and flowers if they had seen His beautiful and kind wife. Sensing that his brother was falling off the righteous path, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in to offer some sound words of advice. He reminded Rāma that, as living entities, they were subject to happiness and distress from time to time. Moreover, even the heavenly beings and saints have to suffer losses from time to time, thus there was no reason to lament. Human life is meant for adhering to dharma, or one's occupational duty.

In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is wrapping up his statements. Here we see that Rāma is being reminded of His extraordinary power, which was both human and divine. Though Rāma was in the guise of a human being, in reality He is the Divine Supreme Lord, so His fighting ability is unmatched in the world. Whoever had taken Sītā would surely not live for very long if Rāma were to find them. This indeed would be the case as Rāma would heed Lakṣmaṇa's advice, resume His search for Sītā, and eventually defeat and kill Rāvaṇa in battle. All would end well.

Yet the happy ending may not have ever happened were it not for the words of wisdom spoken by Lakṣmaṇa. Lord Rāma was certainly God Himself, so He obviously didn't need any of this advice. The source of Lakṣmaṇa's wisdom was actually Rāma, for the Lord had instructed His younger brothers on the same subject matter on many previous occasions. Even though Rāma was God, we see that the Lord likes to elevate the stature of His devotees, so He creates situations where they can shine. This was one of those situations. Lakṣmaṇa was a perfect devotee and highly learned soul, even though He belonged to the kṣatriya [warrior] class. In this instance, Lakṣmaṇa was given the distinct honor of acting as a spiritual guide to Rāma.

So which teaching techniques did Lakṣmaṇa employ? We see that he didn't force Rāma to do anything. He didn't threaten his elder brother. These tactics wouldn't have worked, for Rāma was a full-fledged adult. Instead, Lakṣmaṇa kindly reminded Rāma of His true nature, highlighting the Lord's great qualities. He advised Rāma to use this information to remove any hesitation or trepidation He had in relation to what should be done next. Thus we see that Lakṣmaṇa acted as a perfect guru, understanding the nature of his student and using that knowledge to employ the proper teaching technique.

So what can we learn from this incident? In today's day and age, the youth often don't receive the proper kind of education. Children are most certainly forced to go to school and persuaded to graduate from high school, but this doesn't mean that they acquire the king of all knowledge, rāja-vidyā. As mentioned previously, the ultimate objective in human life is to know and understand God. No one can truly understand His complete set of potencies, but through study and aural reception, we can gain a slight understanding. Yet simply acquiring theoretical knowledge is not enough. We have to know what to do with this education. Perfection in life is achieved when we use our spiritual knowledge to take up service to the Lord. This service must be performed voluntarily and with unmotivated love in order to be effective.

In our youth, most of us learn about technology, literature, science, social studies, etc. We don't learn about the constitutional position of the soul and its eternal nature. We don't learn about what happens to us after we die or why we die in the first place. Theories are posited and religion is taken as a blind faith adopted by various sectarian groups, but there are no discussions about the soul and the differences between matter and spirit. Does this mean that our chances for success in life are dashed? Hope is never lost in the area of spirituality, but there are certain hurdles we must overcome. The great saints of the past, the non-sectarian Vaiṣṇavas, have written voluminous literature expounding the supremacy of devotional service over any other religious process. We simply have to consult one of these great works or hear from a devotee who follows the bona fide principles of religion.

At the same time, it's difficult for adults to take instruction from others. A devotee of Kṛṣṇa may ask us to kindly chant, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare", and abstain from meat eating, gambling, illicit sex, and intoxication, but we won't want to listen to them. "Who is this person teaching me? I'm an adult now; I have complete autonomy over my activities. I don't have to listen to anybody." Thus the task becomes a little more difficult for the supreme welfare worker, the devotee.

From Lakṣmaṇa's example, however, we can see how even independent adults can be nudged in the proper direction. Though we are not God, we have some of His qualities. The Gosvāmīs of Vṛndāvana have analyzed the qualities of the Supreme Lord and have declared that we living entities possess seventy-eight percent of the qualities of God. Thus we too have great potencies, especially in the area of acquiring knowledge and intelligence. This means that every single person is a candidate for understanding this supreme science of devotional service. Whether a person is a man, woman, child, high born, or low born, it doesn't matter. Each of us has some capability to perform some type of work. If we perform this work for the satisfaction of the Supreme Lord, our activities will be perfect. Therefore it is incumbent upon the knowledgeable spiritual teachers to try to remind people of their great abilities and how those qualities can be used for the right purposes. When the energy meets the energetic, the resulting synergy is a thing of beauty. As living entities, we are meant to be the pleasure giving energy of the Lord. If we take up devotional service, we can turn that potential into a reality.

# Chapter 31 - You Gotta Believe

"O best of the Ikṣvākus, considering Your powerful divine and human capabilities, please strive for the destruction of Your enemies." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.20)

We appreciate the people who believe in us. Life is a constant tug of war between happiness and distress, so there are bound to be ups and downs that we have to go through. The downs can really leave us doubting our abilities and our chances for success. To get through these tough times, we require outside intervention and the support of our friends and family members. Of all our well-wishers, those who believe in our abilities stand out the most. These are the people we are greatly indebted and most obliged to. Though it may not always appear this way, bona fide spiritual leaders actually believe in all of us; they know that each one of us is capable of achieving spiritual perfection. Our business is to trust these leaders to guide us to the promise land, for their belief in us is a prerequisite for success.

To understand this point better, let us look at some of the more popular inspirational movies of recent times. These are the movies that give us goose bumps at the end, the ones that leave us feeling inspired after having watched them. During the 1980s, several of these movies became very popular. Top Gun, The Karate Kid, and Hoosiers were especially inspirational. The storylines were generally the same: an underdog taking on a challenge that seemed too big for him to handle. After struggling and failing several times, the movie dramatically concludes with the underdog emerging victorious. We can relate to these movies because we have been in many situations where we were the underdog. Who among us hasn't struggled? Who hasn't felt like giving up when the chips were down? But we know that we can't give up, because quitters never win.

The characters in these movies go through similar struggles. For example, in The Karate Kid, the main character learns karate in an unconventional manner through interacting with an elderly friend. Eventually the student enters a karate competition, where all his competitors have been trained in top-notch karate schools. There is even a moment when it looks like the character will be unable to continue in the tournament due to an injury. But it is through inspiration and belief that the character finally overcomes all obstacles.

This type of story inspires us because we know that winning isn't easy. When we are shooting for a lofty goal, many people will come up to us and tell us that we can't do it. "Oh you're too small; you're not smart enough; you don't have enough talent", etc. The naysayers seem to outweigh the well-wishers, and as soon as we encounter a little duress and failure, we start to believe what our critics tell us. In order to be successful, we need people in our corner who have faith in us; people who genuinely believe that we have what it takes to be successful. Bereft of such association, success will be hard to come by. Most of us are not born leaders or self-starters. We require motivation, inspiration, and guidance in the initial phases of an endeavor.

When an actor wins a prestigious award, such as an Oscar, they usually thank all the people that helped them in their career. They also will usually thank a specific teacher for believing in them. The same holds true with successful athletes. When a player wins a prestigious title, it is not uncommon to see them cry. This is because, at that moment, they realize how difficult it was to get to the pinnacle of their field. They also realize that if it weren't for the people who believed in them, they wouldn't have achieved success.

Though there are varieties of material endeavors, aspiring to become a perfect transcendentalist may be the most difficult task of all. We are currently in an environment which is not conducive to spiritual life. The Vedas tell us that this world is governed by an illusory force known as māyā. Māyā means "that which is not"; hence the illusion. The world we live in is full of things that appear to be beneficial to us, while in fact they are more harmful than anything else. There are so many examples of māyā's influence, but we can study something as basic as sex life to see the pattern. The desire to have sex is a natural urge for the human being as well as the animal species. Having the urge and acting on it are two different things. When we act on an impulse, it doesn't mean that there will always be a positive result. For example, if we are stricken with the chicken pox, the urge is to scratch the infected areas on the body. But we also know that if we do scratch, our relief will only be temporary, while we will increase the likelihood of developing scars in the future. Scratching can also increase the risk of acquiring secondary infections to the swollen areas.

Sex life is similar in this regard. If we act on every sexual impulse, we are likely to encounter unintended side effects. The most obvious unintended consequence of sex life is pregnancy. If a young girl gets pregnant, she must completely turn her life around. Raising a child is a full-time responsibility, something which parents have to worry about for at least the first eighteen years of a child's life. So we see that a simple act of having sex can lead to a much greater, unintended responsibility. This is how māyā works. She fools us into taking something to be what it is not.

Though the material world is full of illusion, the spiritual world is not. Everything there is exactly how it seems. This is why God is referred to as the Supreme Absolute Truth, meaning there is no duplicity in His dealings, attributes, or residences. Since we are constitutionally spirit, we are meant to associate with this Truth; our destiny is to free ourselves from illusion. Knowing that we should be with God is one thing, but actually achieving that objective is another. We are currently in a conditioned state and under the spell of māyā. This spell is difficult to break out of, so we require some help.

Who can help us? If we want to be successful in theater, sports, or broadcasting, it would make sense to approach someone who is already successful in the field. There are so many naysayers out there, but how many of them are actually successful? The nightly television newscasts are full of "experts" who give their opinions on a wide range of subjects, but how many of them actually know what they are talking about? Many of these experts have advanced degrees and thus acquire the title of "doctor". There is certainly nothing wrong with receiving a formal education, but if we want to be successful in acting, should we approach someone who only has a PhD in theater, or should we talk to someone who is actually in the business? If we want to be a successful politician, should we take counsel from a person with a political science degree or someone who has actually ran for office and won?

The answers to these questions are fairly obvious, but the reason we ask them is to highlight a larger point. In order to be successful in spiritual life, we must approach someone who is not under the spell of māyā. Our goal is to defeat māyā and associate exclusively with the spiritual energy, thus it would make sense to consult with someone who has been successful in their fight against illusion. The Vedas tell us that the realized soul is known as the guru, or spiritual master. The term "guru" is used in many different contexts, but one of its meanings is "one who is heavy". How is a guru heavy? What is the source of their weight? The bona fide guru carries the message of Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead. Since God is absolute, there is no difference between Himself and His message. Thus the message of God represents the heaviest truth, or knowledge system, in existence. A person who carries this message also becomes heavy; they possess gravitas, or authority.

Since the spiritual master is a pure devotee of Kṛṣṇa, they naturally will try to teach others how to become devotees. Since we are currently in a conditioned state, what the spiritual master initially tells us won't be very pleasing to hear. They will tell us to give up the four primary activities of sinful life: meat eating, gambling, intoxication, and illicit sex. At first glance, this seems like a harsh restriction. "No drinking? No illicit sex? What am I going to do with my time?" Next, the guru advises the aspiring transcendentalist to take up bhakti-yoga, or devotional service. There are many dharmas, or religious systems, but the religion of love reigns supreme. Devotional service is the sublime engagement which automatically provides the rewards of all the other religious systems. This should make sense to us. After all, in the conditioned state, romantic love is held as the most pleasurable activity in life. Though this type of love may seem nice, it is still associated with māyā, so there is illusion associated with it. When this love becomes purified, i.e. directed towards Kṛṣṇa, it goes by the name of bhakti, or Kṛṣṇa-prema.

Since the guru is heavy, he won't sugarcoat his language. When reading the books of the great Vaiṣṇava saints, we'll often see that they refer to gross materialists, impersonalists, and enemies of God as mūḍhas, or rascals. "Anyone who is not a devotee of Kṛṣṇa is a fool; Anyone who takes material nature to be the beginning and end of everything is certainly a rascal; Anyone who thinks that God is formless is a great miscreant." Now these statements may seem off-putting to us at first, but they serve a distinct purpose. The first point that must be stressed is that these statements are all undoubtedly true. It may not be pleasing to hear, for many of these criticisms may apply to us or someone we know, but these statements are all rooted in fact.

"Don't we need people to believe in us in order to achieve success? So how will any of us make progress if the spiritual master thinks that we are mūḍhas?" Actually, the bona fide spiritual master has more belief in us than anyone else we know. This may seem strange, but we have to understand the underlying reasoning behind the way the spiritual master teaches. The guru knows how hard it is to break free of the clutches of māyā, so they will tell us the truth from the outset. Since the bona fide guru is a paramahamsa, they don't view all individuals as mūḍhas and miscreants. They actually view every person as a pure devotee at heart. We are all meant to be God's eternal servants, but currently we are forgetful of this fact. Thus the spiritual master takes it upon himself to remind us of the truth. They tell us that if we remain non-devotees in thoughts, words, and deeds, we are most certainly not very advanced. But we can quickly go from being a non-devotee to a devotee. In order to achieve this transformation, we have to have faith in the words of the spiritual master; our ever well-wisher.

The spiritual master believes in us, for they know what our true potential is. They know that each of us can achieve perfection in life by taking up devotional service. Cognizant of this fact, they remind us of the great qualities that we have. They don't just criticize; they also highlight our good traits and tell us to use them to achieve spiritual perfection. This was the practice followed by Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma, many thousands of years ago.

Liberated transcendentalists tell us Kṛṣṇa is the Absolute Truth and that He possesses all good qualities. This is nice to hear and we can certainly try to theoretically understand these facts, but it is much easier to learn by example. To facilitate this teaching method, the Lord personally appears on earth from time to time to show how real Truth manifests. One such appearance took place during the Tretā Yuga, the second time period of creation, where Kṛṣṇa incarnated as the pious prince of Ayodhyā, Lord Rāma. As part of His pastimes, Rāma roamed through the forests for fourteen years alongside His wife, Sītā Devī, and younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa. On one unfortunate occasion, Sītā was kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Realizing that Sītā was missing, Rāma frantically searched for her in the forest, but was unable to find her. Fearing the worse, Rāma gave way to lamentation and anger.

At this time, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in to offer some sound words of advice. God is the original spiritual master, and He chooses select individuals to impart spiritual instruction to. Lakṣmaṇa was one such individual, for as the younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa would often be instructed by Rāma on all matters of life. But God likes to glorify His devotees from time to time, so He presents opportunities for them to shine. This was one such opportunity, where Lakṣmaṇa was afforded the chance to act as spiritual master to Rāma. In essence, Lakṣmaṇa got to show off all that he had previously learned from Rāma.

What were Lakṣmaṇa's instructions? Initially, he mildly chastised Rāma for giving way to lamentation. The first instruction given to aspiring transcendentalists of the Vedic tradition is that we are not our bodies. The soul is eternal and unchangeable, while the body is not. This means that a person is guaranteed to encounter ups and downs, gains and losses, as it relates to the body. The wise person does not let these events affect them. Lakṣmaṇa correctly pointed out that even if Sītā were killed, it would be no reason to be taken off the righteous path. We should all perform our prescribed duties in life, not being attached to the results of our actions.

In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is concluding his remarks. We see that even though he chastised Rāma in the beginning, Lakṣmaṇa is reminding Rāma of the great powers He possesses. Lakṣmaṇa is essentially telling Rāma that he believed in Him. The Lord very much appreciated His younger brother's words of advice. The Lord would go on to find Sītā, defeat Rāvaṇa in battle, and triumphantly rescue her. Everything would end well.

All can also end well for us if we follow the advice of the Vaiṣṇava spiritual masters. Our powers certainly aren't as great as Rāma's, but we do have the ability to achieve spiritual perfection. The path won't be easy, but we must be confident of the spiritual master's belief in us. The great devotees of Kṛṣṇa make no distinction between cast, gender, color, or creed. They know that all living entities are capable of reviving their dormant Kṛṣṇa consciousness. The guru believes in us, but the question remains: do we believe in him?

# Chapter 32 - The Spiritual Doctor

"O best of men, what is the use of Your destroying the entire world? After finding out Your sinful enemy, You should uproot him alone." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.21)

Not only does love work in mysterious ways, but it makes us do crazy things. There is no denying this fact. The affection we feel for our loved ones can be so strong that it drives us to completely overlook rationality and the rules of propriety. When our feelings of attachment drive us close to the edge, we need someone who can help bring back our sanity. This person is our ever well-wishing friend, someone who saves us from ourselves.

Why does love lead us to madness? The ways of this world are quite mysterious, but it is undoubtedly true that love is the strongest emotion that we know. Love is an outgrowth of service; offering something of ourselves to someone else. The Vedas, the ancient scriptures of India, tell us that this penchant for service is derived from our natural disposition as loving servitors of the Supreme Lord. The soul residing within is inherently a part and parcel of the supreme whole known as God. Just as the sunshine has an original source, the sun, we living entities are like fragmental sparks emanating from the huge spiritual fire of energy known as God. These two entities, God and His fragmental parts, aren't two randomly disjointed entities. There is an explicitly defined relationship between the two. One is superior, while the other is inferior. Thus it is the natural disposition of the inferior to be a servant of the superior. When this natural order of things is in place, both the inferior and the superior live together in harmony.

In our current condition, we are unaware or forgetful of this natural order. Thus our penchant for service gets shifted elsewhere, i.e. to friends, family, and paramours. Since this desire for service is so strong, it leads to the formation of attachment and bonds that are tough to break. Along with the desire for service comes the desire to please the object of our affection. There are two primary effects of our strong attachments. The first effect is seen through our desire to protect our loved ones and to ensure their well-being at all times. A poignant example of this was seen with the kṣatriya warrior, Arjuna, some five thousand years ago.

Note: In the 5th verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Arjuna tells Lord Kṛṣṇa that it would be better for him to live by begging than to enjoy life after having killed great souls who were his teachers, for any enjoyment would then be tainted with blood.

The Bhagavad-gītā is one of the most famous religious books in history. Known as The Song of God, the Gītā contains the essence of Vedic wisdom. Though the Gītā is considered a religious scripture, it is essentially just a transcript of a conversation that took place in real life between Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, and His cousin Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukṣetra. On the eve of a great war that was to see millions of soldiers killed, the lead warrior for the side of the Pāṇḍavas, Arjuna, gave way to lamentation and fear. Arjuna became hesitant to fight because he didn't want to see his friends and family members, who were fighting for the opposing army, put into any type of danger or discomfort.

For a warrior, this wasn't customary behavior. Being in an army means having to kill the enemy in fair combat. If a fighter is reluctant to fight, it stands to reason that he won't be very successful in killing enemies, which is the essence of war. War is a terrible thing that should be avoided at all costs. However, once a war starts, the objectives are quite simple: kill people and break things. The more people you kill from the opposing side and the more of their stuff you break, the more likely you are to win. Why would Arjuna, the greatest bow warrior of his time, not want to fight? The opposing side, the Kauravas, consisted of Arjuna's cousins, grandfather, and spiritual guide. Arjuna didn't want to hurt loved ones simply to gain a kingdom. His affection for the material well-being of his family members superseded his desire for victory.

In Arjuna's case, the negative effect of love and affection was unnecessary soft-heartedness. The other negative effect of intense love is extreme anger and rage, which is the polar opposite of extreme kindness. While love makes us feel for our fellow loved ones, it also makes us angry at anyone who causes them any harm. An example of this was seen with Lord Rāma many thousands of years ago. In the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa unequivocally establishes that He is the Supreme Lord and that all other forms of Godhead emanate from Him. In fact, He displayed His terrible universal form to Arjuna; a form which was so awe-inspiring that Arjuna, out of fear, asked Kṛṣṇa to reassume His original two-handed form.

Though Kṛṣṇa is the original form of Godhead, He personally descends to earth in other forms from time to time. During the Tretā Yuga, the second time period of creation, the Lord appeared as a handsome and pious kṣatriya warrior named Rāma. Since Rāma was God, it made sense that His fighting abilities were unmatched. Though a great warrior, Rāma underwent many hardships throughout His life. This was all done for the benefit of others, thus showing Rāma's magnanimous nature. On one occasion, Rāma's beautiful wife, Sītā Devī, was kidnapped while the couple was residing in the forest. If a person is in God's company, no one can harm them. This is because God is the ultimate protector, someone who is undefeated in battle. This was also the case with Rāma, but due to a diversion set up by the demon Rāvaṇa, the Lord was somehow lured away from Sītā's side. In Rāma's absence, Rāvaṇa came and forcibly took Sītā away.

It should be noted that Sītā's kidnapping actually occurred due to the desire of the demigods. Rāvaṇa was a great demon, and though Rāma appeared on earth to kill him, the Lord still needed an excuse before He could attack. Lord Rāma's vow was to always abide by dharma, or established religious codes. This meant that He never wanted to act in an impious manner, for as the eldest son of a great king, others would follow His example. With Sītā's kidnap, Rāma had the excuse He needed to go after Rāvaṇa and kill him. In the meantime, however, Rāma played the part of an ordinary human being, giving way to lamentation and anger after realizing that His wife was missing.

Upon returning to the couple's cottage, Rāma noticed that Sītā was missing, and immediately He gave way to lamentation. He started roaming through the neighboring woods, asking the trees and flowers if they had seen His beloved wife. The Lord is so kind and sweet that He never allows anyone's love for Him to go in vain. No one in this world can love Rāma more than Sītā does, and by the same token, no one can love Sītā more than Rāma does. Thus the Lord kindly reciprocated the love shown to Him by Sītā by giving way to excessive lamentation. After the sadness came anger. The Lord was ready to destroy the entire world as revenge for Sītā's kidnap. In His mind, all the neighboring creatures and celestial figures just sat idly by and allowed Rāvaṇa to perform his dastardly deed. Thus every living entity in the world was liable for Sītā's kidnap.

We can certainly relate to the incident with Arjuna. In today's day and age, it is becoming fashionable for parents to be friends with their kids. Children are seen as equals, being allowed to have televisions and video game systems in their room. Children can talk back to their parents, as that is all part of the friendly relationship. This desire to be friends with your children is an outgrowth of the strong affection that parents feel. Being a parent means having to impose strict rules, a practice which results in your kids hating you from time to time. No one wants to see their loved ones in pain, so being a good parent requires emotional strength and the doling out of tough love.

By the same token, we can also relate to the incident involving Lord Rāma. It just takes one bad experience to turn our moods sour. If something bad happens to us or to a loved one, we can lose rationality and start to blame others for our problems. For example, say we are travelling to a foreign country like France. If we have a bad experience at a hotel or in a restaurant, we might be tempted to lump all French people with the incident. "Oh I hate French people. I'm never going to France again." Now obviously this isn't rational thinking because there are bad apples wherever you go. Moreover, it is this type of irrational thinking that leads to destructive practices such as racism, bigotry, and sexism.

Note: In the 30th verse of the 2nd chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that the owner of the body, the soul, is eternal and thus cannot be killed. Therefore no living entity is worthy of lament.

In the end, both Arjuna and Rāma ended up regaining their senses and continuing with their prescribed duties. How were they able to collect themselves? They enlisted the help of their spiritual guides. In Arjuna's case, his spiritual master was Lord Kṛṣṇa. The Lord advised Arjuna to give up his false attachment, born out of unnecessary affection. It was surely a nice gesture on Arjuna's part, but in reality, nothing would be gained by not fighting. It was Arjuna's duty as a warrior to fight nobly for his side, for his family had the rightful claim on the kingdom. Moreover, every person's karma is determined by their own deeds, so there is no need to worry about whether a person will be materially benefitted by a specific action or not. Even if his enemies were to die in battle, Arjuna still wouldn't be to blame, for the soul is eternal and can never be slain. Armed with these facts, Arjuna decided to stand up and fight.

In Lord Rāma's case, His spiritual master was His younger brother Lakṣmaṇa. It is quite ironic actually, for Lakṣmaṇa viewed Rāma as a father. Nevertheless, true love sometimes involves saying unpleasant things for the benefit of your loved one. This was the case with Lakṣmaṇa. In the popular American television sitcom, Everybody Loves Raymond, one of the main characters on the show, Frank Barone, is known for being outspoken and unafraid to say what's on his mind. Playing the grandfather on the show, Frank believes in toughness and calling it like it is. If a person is acting weak or is hesitating unnecessarily, Frank will tell them to quit their crying and to suck it up. "Stop your pitter patter, Nancy. Stop crying and get back to work", are two of his famous phrases.

This was essentially the instruction that Lakṣmaṇa gave to Rāma, but in a sweeter way. As the ever well-wishing younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa would have been justified in sitting back and letting his brother go off the deep end. But as a great devotee of the Lord, Lakṣmaṇa loved Rāma so much that he wouldn't let Him deviate from the virtuous path. Lakṣmaṇa offered some sound words of advice, basically telling Rāma that there was no reason to lament. Even if Sītā were dead, there would be no justification for giving up the performance of prescribed duties. Even the great celestials suffer defeat every now and then, what to say of ordinary men.

In the above referenced statement, Lakṣmaṇa is concluding His words of wisdom. Here he is putting forth a rhetorical question relating to Rāma's desire to destroy the whole world. If the Lord did kill everyone in revenge, what would be gained? It still wouldn't bring Sītā back, and it would also put a black mark on Rāma's reputation and that of His family. Rāma very much appreciated this advice, since He knew that Lakṣmaṇa only had His best interests at heart. In fact, Lakṣmaṇa even reiterated the fact that the things he was saying actually originated from Rāma. This is most certainly true, for God is the original spiritual master, the fountainhead of all instruction. Formerly, Rāma had offered the same instruction to Lakṣmaṇa and His three other brothers. Thus we see that Lakṣmaṇa was both a great student and a great teacher.

The lesson here is that we all fall down from the righteous path every now and then. Our great affection and natural inclination to serve others will result in these momentary lapses of judgment. As we saw with Arjuna and Rāma, it is very important to surround ourselves with godly people. Lord Kṛṣṇa is God, and anyone who acts on His behalf and serves Him in a loving way can be considered godly. Kṛṣṇa is Bhagavān and those who serve Him are bhāgavata. It is very important to always surround ourselves with Bhagavān if we can or, at the very least, bhāgavata. Our attachments are difficult to give up, so it's always good to keep a spiritual doctor on hand to cure us of our ailments.

# Chapter 33 - The Highest Gain

"O best of men, what is the use of Your destroying the entire world? After finding out Your sinful enemy, you should uproot him alone." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.21)

The wise never act on whims. Rather, they carefully study the results of potential actions and then decide whether the reward is worth the effort and the risk associated with the undertaking. Every action carries some risk to it, even something as simple as standing up. This is because every action performed on the material platform has a commensurate reaction. The fruits of action, karma-phalaṁ, sometimes manifest immediately, while at other times they come to us in a future life. There is risk in every action because the results of our karma are unknown to us, and sometimes the results don't last very long. Thus we never know exactly what might happen when we take on a certain task. To decide what should be done and what shouldn't, we must carefully study the desired result and then also evaluate whether the resulting fruit is worth having.

So far this sounds somewhat cryptic, so let's look at a few real life examples to gain a clearer understanding. The issue of violence is often discussed amongst the intelligentsia. The issue itself is quite polarizing, for people immediately jump to one side or the other. Some believe that violence is never necessary. They see the wars going on around them and just scratch their heads. "Why would young men want to kill one another? What is to be gained? Why can't people just get along in peace? If one side were to commit themselves to nonviolence, then the rest of the world would soon follow." The immediate results of violent action are easily perceptible. Violence, in its relation to war, leads to death, which signals the end of the current body's material efforts. When someone dies, they no longer have the opportunity to take actions aimed at satisfying their senses. All ties of affection are immediately relinquished and the friends and family of the departed are left to mourn. Based on these negative consequences, we can understand why many people would be so opposed to violence.

In the paradigm of warfare, the people perpetrating the violence are hoping to achieve the end-goal of victory. Victory signals the defeat of the enemy, with their will to fight being removed. Surrender from the other side then hopefully leads to a peaceful condition for the victors, an end to hostilities. On the flip side, there are those who are in favor of nonviolence. The result of nonviolence is the absence of warfare. When there isn't war, there will be peace. At the same time, however, aggressors will be let off the hook for any nefarious activity. For example, if one side wants to wage war in order to gain control over a certain tract of land, if the other side chooses nonviolence, naturally the aggressive side will claim victory and take the land for themselves. In this scenario, nonviolence, though saving lives, results in surrender, with the enemy taking over land that might not rightfully belong to them.

So which side does morality come down on? Are the proponents of war correct in believing that victory is a noble enough goal to make violence worth it? Or are the pacifists correct in asserting that the lack of violence makes surrendering worthwhile? In order to make a rational judgment in any situation, we have to evaluate the fruits of action. So far we have established what the fruits of action will be in both cases, but we haven't ascribed any merit or demerit to them.

So how do we rate results? This material world is full of dualities. One person may enjoy spicy food, while another person may abhor it. One person may prefer the winter months due to the cold weather, while another person may enjoy the summer months for the bright sunshine and warm temperatures. How do we decide which viewpoint is correct? Is this even possible? It seems like everyone has different desires, and thus we see so many different kinds of work performed. Is there really a way to judge which action is virtuous and which isn't?

Note: In the 18th verse of the 14th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that those situated in the mode of goodness gradually go upwards to the higher planets; those in the mode of passion remain in the middle planetary system; and those in the mode of abominable activity descend further down to the hellish realm.

According to the Vedas, the ancient scriptures of India, there is actually an easy way to decide whether a particular action should be performed or not. What has been described thus far is guṇa and karma. Guṇa is a Sanskrit word which refers to material qualities. Each living entity possesses a body composed of a combination of the three gunas of material nature: goodness, passion, and ignorance. In addition, every fruitive activity we perform, or karma, can also be filed under one of these three modes. When rating karmic activity, we usually associate pious acts as those which bring about "good" karma-phalaṁ, or fruitive results. These activities fall under the mode of goodness. If we perform activities in the mode of goodness, we further the position of the material body, both in this life and in future ones. For example, if we faithfully study the Vedas and perform various sacrifices, we will ascend to the heavenly planets in the afterlife. Upon reaching this realm, one is given a heavenly body which allows them to enjoy a thousand times more than they can on earth.

The mode of passion brings about neutral results. For example, working hard simply for the acquisition of money and wealth can be thought of as an act of neutrality. Money is certainly required to maintain our lifestyle, but it quickly runs out, thus forcing us to repeat the cycle of work again. The mode of passion eventually leads to a neutral state in the afterlife. If a living entity is currently in a human body, through action in the mode of passion, they remain in an earthly body in the next life.

The mode of ignorance can be equated with "bad" karma. What we would characterize as "stupid" behavior is what the mode of ignorance consists of. Unnecessarily killing others, stealing, sleeping too much, constant intoxication, etc., all lead to demotion to a lower species in the next life. Thus one should avoid the mode of ignorance at all costs.

Note: In the 21st verse of the 9th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa states that those who ascend to Indra's heaven through ritualistic Vedic practices eventually fall back down to the mortal planets when the merits from their deeds expire. In this way, by following Vedic principles, such worshipers only achieve temporary happiness, for they must constantly go through birth and death.

So it seems like we have the issue resolved. Simply act in the mode of goodness, and everything will be okay. Ah, but there is a catch. Though action in the mode of goodness leads to a heavenly body in the afterlife, one's time in heaven is limited. Upon exhaustion of our good merits, we are forced to descend back to earth and go through the entire life cycle again. Goswami Tulsidas, the great devotee of Lord Rāma, remarks that it is heard that after enjoying such great opulence in the heavenly kingdom, a person forgets about the time factor and their mortality. In this way, by becoming overly puffed up with pride and material enjoyment, knowledge of the truth gets covered up. Upon returning to earth, we'll again have to deal with the issue of deciding what action should be performed and what shouldn't. Those who possess a higher understanding of nature thus realize that even the mode of goodness leads to a neutral state. In this way, all activity of this material world can be considered equal in a sense, since the results of such action are only temporary.

So does this mean that we all should do whatever we want because it doesn't matter in the end? Beyond the material nature is a spiritual nature. Though the spiritual nature is free of gunas, or material qualities, there are still activities performed within it. Spirituality is full of variegatedness. The material world is simply a perverted reflection of the purified realm. The various actions and reactions of material life can be thought of as emanating from a tree which has its roots upwards. This inverted situation is the result of the perverted reflection. The spiritual world contains the actual tree, the purified version of activity and enjoyment. This means that our real business is to take up spiritual activities, those actions which transcend the modes of material nature. Why is it important to rise above the three modes of material nature? As mentioned before, when deciding on whether a particular action should be taken, we need to study both the desired result and its importance. So what are the results of taking to spiritual activity? Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, states that anyone who acts towards pleasing Him, i.e. doing those things which will make God happy, will never have to take birth again. Such devotees will ascend immediately to Kṛṣṇa's spiritual realm after death. In this way, spiritual activity brings about the highest gain.

So what constitutes spiritual activity? In addition, does this mean that all the activities we are accustomed to performing are stupid? Sannyāsīs, or those in the renounced order of life, are often attached with this stigma of having a pessimistic outlook on life. The Vedas recommend that a person gradually progress through four spiritual stages, or āśramas, over the course of their lifetime. Sannyāsa is the fourth and final stage where one completely renounces all ties to material life and sincerely engages in serving God. Service to God is known as bhakti-yoga, or devotional service. It involves many different processes such as chanting, hearing, remembering, and offering prayers.

A person who is in the renounced order of life will naturally look at material activity as being second class. They will see people engaging in activities like drinking, gambling, and eating meat and think that such people are simply wasting their time. A bona fide sannyāsī is a pure devotee of Kṛṣṇa, so they don't simply criticize people for engaging in mundane activity; they view everything with respect to Kṛṣṇa. A pure devotee puts forth suggestions on what should be done to correct improper behavior. An example of this benevolence was seen with Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma.

Many thousands of years ago, during the Tretā Yuga, Lord Kṛṣṇa incarnated on earth as Lord Rāma, a valiant warrior prince, the eldest son of the King of Ayodhyā. As part of His pastimes, Rāma spent fourteen years in the forest, living as a vānaprasthī with His wife Sītā Devī and younger brother Lakṣmaṇa. Vānaprastha is the āśrama right before sannyāsa, and it is the stage where a person leaves their home and travels around with their wife, living off very little. What's ironic is that when Rāma left for the forest, He had only been married for twelve years and thus wasn't necessarily ready for vānaprastha. The mendicant lifestyle was forced upon Him as a result of a request put forth by His step-mother Kaikeyī.

Nevertheless, God is the ultimate renunciate, so He had no problem roaming around like a hermit for fourteen years. Unfortunately, during the exile period, Sītā would be kidnapped by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa while Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa were not by her side. Returning to their cottage, Rāma saw that Sītā was missing and gave way to lamentation. It is the duty of every husband to protect their wife under any and all circumstances. There is a great responsibility that comes with marriage; it is not simply a license to have sex. In the Vedic tradition, every institution and regulation is intended to provide spiritual wisdom and act as a gradual progression towards the end-goal of Kṛṣṇa consciousness. Though Rāma was God, He was playing the part of a human being, so He abided by all the Vedic samskaras, or reformatory processes.

When He saw that Sītā was missing, Rāma felt bad for several reasons. First, He loved Sītā very much. That is the beauty of the relationship between God and His devotees. The devotees abandon all desires for worldly enjoyment and take exclusively to devotional service. The Lord, for His part, becomes beholden to the devotees through a bond of deep affection. Sītā, being an incarnation of the goddess of fortune, was an exceptional devotee and a representation of Kṛṣṇa's pleasure potency, hlādinī-śakti. Rāma cannot live without Sītā, and Sītā cannot live without Rāma. Even in separation, the two are always thinking of each other.

Rāma was also disappointed because He had failed to protect His wife. God can never fail in providing protection, but Rāma was playing the part of a human being and thus acting like someone who commits mistakes from time to time. What did Rāma do next? First, He started wandering through the neighboring woods, asking all the trees and flowers if they had seen Sītā. His sadness then quickly turned to anger. The sweet and gentle Lord decided He would destroy the whole world as revenge for its allowing Sītā to be kidnapped. At this moment, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in to offer some sound words of advice.

Though a younger brother, Lakṣmaṇa too was a perfect devotee and thus not afraid to offer His service to God. It is the natural mentality of the dependents to ask for service from their superiors. We often pray to God to do certain things for us. The devotees are a little advanced, and as such, they look for any opportunity to give service to the Lord. In Lakṣmaṇa's case, seeing his brother in a precarious condition presented an opportunity to offer something worthwhile to Rāma. What was the nature of Lakṣmaṇa's service? He simply repeated sound words of advice that Rāma had offered to him on many previous occasions. He reminded Rāma that one should be steady in the execution of their prescribed duties, no matter the result. Even if Sītā were dead, it would not be cause for lamentation because every person in life must meet both good and bad fortune.

In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is asking what would be gained by destroying the world. Killing every living entity certainly wouldn't bring Sītā back, so the intended result itself was flawed. Lakṣmaṇa advised Rāma to find out who took Sītā and to then destroy them. The results of such activity would be the deserved punishment of the enemy and the hopeful rescue of Sītā. Thus the intended results were in accordance with what Rāma wanted. Moreover, by rescuing Sītā, Rāma would be performing His prescribed duties as a husband and prince. The Lord very much appreciated Lakṣmaṇa's counsel, and in the end, He would do exactly what Lakṣmaṇa advised. Rāvaṇa would be found and defeated in battle, and Sītā would be rescued.

We should apply the same criteria prior to taking up any activity. We should ask ourselves a series of questions. "What will the result of this action be? Is the result even something that I want? Can I choose a different course of action and achieve a more beneficial result?" Luckily for us, we know that our ultimate objective is reconnecting with God, thus we can juxtapose the results of all activities with the ultimate result of returning back home, back to Godhead. For instance, if we apply this criterion towards the violence issue, we'd see that meat eating is completely unnecessary. Simply to satisfy the taste buds, we are sending innocent cows by the millions to the slaughterhouses each year. The positive result of satisfaction to our taste buds is short-lasting and also cancelled out by the negative reactions to our violence. In addition, meat eating does nothing to bring us closer to God.

Lord Rāma, however, took to violence and was acting completely in line with dharma, or occupational duty. This is the easiest way to decide what our course of action should be. Each of us has prescribed duties to perform according to our qualities. If we perform these activities with detachment and, at the same time, engage in devotional service, our lives will be perfect. The highest gain in life is to have association with God and His devotees, so all our activities should be performed with this goal in mind.

# Chapter 34 - What's the Use

"O best of men, what is the use of Your destroying the entire world? After finding out Your sinful enemy, you should uproot him alone." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.21)

Our days are filled with many unnecessary activities, even if we aren't able to identify them as such. For every action that we perform, we should consider the intended benefit. What is the use of performing so many activities if all they do is take up time? Time is precious, and our lifespan is very short in the grand scheme of things. Therefore it is better to take up activities which will further our condition than to waste time on idle talk and nonsense activities.

The usefulness of an activity can vary depending on a person's angle of vision. Let's take the lives of children for example. As adults, we would never think of running around and playing all day. Children pick up the simplest toys and become enamored with them for a few days, but then after that, they jump to another toy. For their viewing pleasure, animated films and educational programs are presented. As adults, these sorts of things don't entertain us because they don't serve any purpose. We understand that playing with toys all day is simply a waste of time. We would rather spend our time studying to earn an advanced degree, or working hard to earn a living. Such activity is known as karma, or work performed with a desired fruitive result in mind. Juxtaposing these two mindsets, we see that the difference between children and adults is intelligence. A higher level of intelligence guides a person in the right direction with respect to what actions should be done and what shouldn't.

As we advance from childhood to young adulthood, our activities certainly do change and our intelligence advances. But this doesn't mean that all our activities suddenly become pure, or that we stop wasting time on unnecessary engagements. For example, one thing we often waste our time on is hate. Hatred stems from jealousy, which has as its root the idea that someone else shouldn't be allowed to enjoy. "Who does such and such person think they are? I can't believe they have so much money. I can't believe they were able to score such a beautiful wife. I can't stand that person." The "hated" are usually those who are successful in life, or those we deem to be more fortunate than ourselves.

Since we live in an advanced technological age, the number of outlets for this hatred has increased. The nightly newscasts are filled with various forms of this hatred, though the stories are sometimes presented to us as serious news. In media outlets, the hatred is usually directed at those people in power: wealthy executives, politicians, famous celebrities, successful businesses, etc. An intelligent person realizes, however, that hatred of others is simply a waste of time. This hatred does not get us anywhere, nor does it advance our condition. It does nothing to increase our intelligence. The Vedas say that all material activities can be classified into one of three distinct modes: goodness, passion, and ignorance. Any activity which is done with proper consideration of right and wrong and which leads to the advancement of one's intelligence is considered to be in the mode of goodness.

Note: In the 11th verse of the 14th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa says that one is situated in the mode of goodness when all the gates of the body are illuminated with knowledge.

Lord Kṛṣṇa, the Supreme Personality of Godhead, is so kind that He has given us the blueprint for behavior. Instead of just telling us what should be done and what shouldn't, He gives us a scientific understanding of the activities that we already perform. This is another reason why no one can be smarter than God. Though the famous Bhagavad-gītā, the Song of God, was spoken by Lord Kṛṣṇa almost five thousand years ago, the instructions still apply to the people of this age. Moreover, the instructions will still apply millions of years into the future. This is what it means to be Absolute. Lord Kṛṣṇa is the Absolute Truth because information that is taken from Him, or is derived from His teachings, never becomes false. Truths can be relative depending on the exact circumstances and the intended result; thus we can't really consider any theory or philosophy to be absolute. With Kṛṣṇa, however, we get the highest truths, those which are beyond contradiction.

Understanding that God is the Absolute Truth is not a very easy thing. We all tend to think of ourselves as being very intelligent. This mindset stays with us throughout our lifetime. When we are younger, we obviously don't know very much compared to what we know as adults. Yet as youngsters, we certainly thought our parents and authority figures were unintelligent from time to time. As adults, we often look back on our childhood memories and think, "Wow, what was I thinking? I can't believe how stupid I was back then." Nevertheless, even with this realization, we still think that we know it all, or that even if we don't, we'll figure our way out of problems.

We may consult various reference books or even seek the guidance of our friends and family, but no one will be able to give us absolute information except God. Since Kṛṣṇa is kind enough to share this information with others, we can also approach one of His bona fide representatives, the spiritual master, and be able to learn about the Supreme Truth. In the Hindu tradition, as part of the funeral rites, friends and family of the departed will chant "Rām Nām Satya Hai" as the person's body is being cremated. This Hindi saying means that Lord Rāma, one of Kṛṣṇa's primary expansions, is the Truth. This is actually a wonderful tradition, because it reminds everyone of the meaning of life. When a person dies, it's obviously a sad occasion, but the friends and family of the departed aren't necessarily depressed over the fact that the deceased's life of sense gratification has ended. Rather, they are concerned with the future destination of the soul. By chanting the holy name of Rāma and declaring it to be the only truth, well-wishers hope that the departed soul will be taken directly to God's spiritual realm.

Note: In the 5th verse of the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa tells Arjuna that anyone who, at the end of life, remembers Him while quitting their body automatically attains the nature of the Lord, and that there is no doubt of this.

The advanced intelligence of the human being should be used towards acquiring knowledge, and since Kṛṣṇa is the Absolute Truth, it would stand to reason that all activities should be geared towards learning about Him. This is where the mode of goodness comes in. Of all the material modes, the mode of goodness is considered the highest because it leads to the acquisition of spiritual knowledge. The more acts we perform in goodness, the closer we come to realizing that we are spirit souls and not our bodies.

So where does hatred and jealousy fit into this? Does hatred help us understand the nature of the soul? Quite the contrary, hatred rooted in jealousy only further increases our delusion. The delusion starts with the idea that another person is not entitled to enjoy their own property, possessions, and family life. Every person should be satisfied with his or her allotment in life, since everything acquired is a result of prior work. This work may have been performed in the current lifetime, or in a previous one. On a higher level of understanding, everything actually belongs to God. This means that if we see a rich person, it is to be understood that Kṛṣṇa has allowed them to borrow some of His wealth.

Since God is the original owner of everything, shouldn't we use all of our possessions towards pleasing Him? Activity performed under this mindset is in śuddha-sattva, or the mode of pure goodness. This mode transcends all three modes of material nature, and anyone associating with it automatically goes back home, back to Godhead, at the time of death. When we encounter hateful comments made about others, we should understand that those spewing the hate are simply wasting their time.

Aside from indulging in hatred and idle gossip, we see that people often discuss Lord Kṛṣṇa, Lord Rāma, Sītā Devī, or other divine figures in public. Sometimes the talk is of the positive nature, but many times it also resembles the same hatred shown towards ordinary human beings. We'll see that people will criticize Lord Kṛṣṇa for certain activities He performed while He was on earth, or we'll see people bash Lord Rāma for leaving Sītā Devī at Vālmīki's āśrama towards the end of their time on earth. People will even argue against Kṛṣṇa's statements found in the Bhagavad-gītā, or Sītā Devī's statements found in the Rāmāyaṇa. "Oh I don't think I agree with this. Sītā would never think such things. Lord Rāma would never subscribe to this."

What's ironic is that these comments are made in response to direct quotations made by the divine figures in question. Such criticisms and idle gossip are more than just wastes of time; they are downright dangerous. To understand Lord Kṛṣṇa, we simply have to listen to the words He has spoken. If we don't understand something He says, we should consult an authority figure, someone who knows Kṛṣṇa. The same holds true for issues relating to Lord Rāma, Sītā Devī, Hanumān, Rādhārāṇī, etc. The authority figures have put forth the proper interpretations and meanings as it relates to the great scriptures.

Idle gossip, unnecessary hatred, and speculating about Kṛṣṇa are certainly all wastes of time, but sometimes things aren't so black and white. There are times when it is necessary to criticize or punish genuine miscreants, while at other times it is better to turn the other cheek. How are we to decipher what activity should be undertaken and what shouldn't? This is where the devotee of Kṛṣṇa comes in. The devotee of God has seen the light and thus engages all their time in positive activities, those things which lead to the emancipation of the soul. In times of trouble, we simply need to consult such devotees, either in person or by referencing their written instructions, and abide by their counsel.

One such devotee was Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Lord Rāma. Many thousands of years ago, during the Tretā Yuga, Lord Rāma, the handsome and pious prince of Ayodhyā, roamed this earth along with His three younger brothers and wife, Sītā Devī. Lakṣmaṇa was one of Rāma's brothers, and he was also the one closest to the Lord. On one unfortunate occasion, Sītā was kidnapped from the forest by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Upon realizing that Sītā was missing from their cottage, Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa frantically searched for the princess's whereabouts, but they were unsuccessful in finding her. Seeing that Sītā was gone, Rāma gave way to sadness. God loves His devotees so much, so if He sees that something bad has happened to them, He most certainly feels sadness.

"The highly renowned Rāma rages into a fury against those who dare brave against Him. He is extremely powerful, for He can completely stop the onset of a pulsing river simply by using His arrows. Śrīmān Rāma can bring down all the stars, planets, and the sky itself by use of His arrows. He is even capable of saving the earth if it should collapse. The illustrious Rāma, if He wanted to, could deluge the whole world by breaking apart the shorelines of the seas. With His arrows, He can resist the onset of the oceans and the wind. After withdrawing the whole world into Himself, that highly renowned best of men, by virtue of His powers, is capable of again creating the whole world with all its creatures." (Akampana speaking to Rāvaṇa, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 31.23-26)

Rāma's sadness quickly turned to anger. Since He was God Himself, the Lord was capable of destroying the whole world and then recreating it. In this instance, Rāma was ready to show off His destructive powers. He was set on destroying the entire world as revenge for Sītā's kidnap. To quell his brother's anger, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in and offered some sound words of advice. Lakṣmaṇa essentially said, "Don't lament, for every person meets with good and bad fortune. If Sītā is dead, there is still no reason to deviate from the path of dharma, or occupational duty." His teachings were strikingly similar to those given by Lord Kṛṣṇa in the Bhagavad-gītā.

In the above referenced quote, Lakṣmaṇa is giving his final instruction, which asks the rhetorical question of what is to be gained by destroying the whole world. This is certainly an appropriate question since the rest of the world had nothing to do with Sītā's kidnap. Moreover, killing every living entity wouldn't bring Sītā back to the cottage. Lakṣmaṇa advises Rāma to instead focus His efforts on achieving His desired goal of Sītā's rescue through the killing of His enemy. Lord Rāma certainly appreciated this advice very much. Lakṣmaṇa is so dear to Rāma that the Lord created this specific circumstance so that future generations could marvel at His younger brother's words and relish them at the same time. For this we are extremely grateful. Hearing these loving words from Lakṣmaṇa certainly brings great joy to our hearts.

So what can we take away from Lakṣmaṇa's teachings? The first thing we can do is apply the same test to all of our activities. Whenever we undertake an activity, we should ask ourselves, "Of what use is this? What will I gain by doing this?" If we were all to think along these lines, surely there would be less hatred around the world. People would think twice before they spewed unnecessary hatred and gossip. The second piece to this puzzle is to figure out what action should be performed in lieu of the unnecessary action we are avoiding.

The answer to this can also be found from Lakṣmaṇa's words of wisdom. Lord Rāma was advised to act according to His prescribed duties as a warrior and eldest son of the King of Ayodhyā. Thus it was Rāma's duty to provide protection to the innocent, to search for Sītā, and to kill His enemies. In the same manner, every living entity's occupational duty is to be a loving servant of the Supreme Lord. The exact nature of this service can vary, but the sentiment should always be the same. We should work to please the Lord; performing those activities which will help us better understand Him. We should transcend the mode of goodness by engaging exclusively in acts of devotion. This will make our time spent on earth worth it.

# Chapter 35 - What I'm Looking For

"O best of men, what is the use of Your destroying the entire world? After finding out Your sinful enemy, You should uproot him alone." (Lakṣmaṇa speaking to Lord Rāma, Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, Araṇya-kāṇḍa, 66.21)

This statement was uttered by Lakṣmaṇa, the beautiful, compassionate, and kind incarnation of Lord Ananta Śeṣa Nāga, the celestial serpent who serves as the resting place for all the planets of the world and also for Lord Viṣṇu, or God. Ananta means that which has no end, and in this context, it references the unlimited hoods possessed by Anantadeva. Lakṣmaṇa, as a powerful incarnation of this divine servant, similarly possesses a limitless desire to defend and protect Lord Rāma, an incarnation of Viṣṇu.

Why would God need protecting? The Lord doesn't require any security, but nevertheless, He enjoys receiving service from His devotees every now and then. God is the head honcho, the "top dog" in charge of everything. Naturally, the topmost person doesn't require anything from anyone else, but he certainly likes to be complimented and praised from time to time. In pretty much any business, the boss isn't a very popular person. This dislike is not personal; the boss is the person in charge, so naturally the subordinates will want to complain every now and then. Complaints aren't lodged against those that are powerless; they will be directed at the person who has absolute authority or someone who has more power than the person doing the complaining. God is the ultimate authority, so it makes sense that people would lodge many complaints against Him, being unhappy that He put them into various unwanted circumstances.

As much as we may dislike our bosses, it is a reality that a business runs smoothly when the subordinates are properly serving the superiors. If every person was on an equal footing, nothing would get done because there would be an absence of leadership. If one worker were to ask another worker of equal status to perform some task, there is no guarantee that the job would get done. Equals have no authority over one another, so there is nothing stopping a person from refusing to do the task which was asked of them. When there is service offered to the superior, things run more efficiently, the subordinates are happy, and so is the boss.

The cohesiveness of a properly functioning work environment essentially mimics the operations of the universe in relation to God. The employer-employee relationship can serve as an analogy to the relationship between God and His devotees, but the paradigm isn't exactly the same since there is an inherent expectation of reciprocation of service in the workplace. The employee serves the boss, provided that the boss gives payment. Since pure love for God doesn't work this way, it is known as Kṛṣṇa-prema. Prema can be translated to mean love, but it is even more purified than that. Prema means serving God without any desire for reciprocation. Lord Caitanya, God's most recent incarnation to appear on earth, kindly gave us the example of how to be a perfect devotee. Though He didn't leave many written instructions, He offered a nice prayer which essentially says that He has no desire for any material opulences or fame. He simply desires to be engaged in the Lord's service. This is the definition of prema.

Lakṣmaṇa, being a perfect devotee, also adopted this prema mentality. During the Tretā Yuga, the second time period of creation, the original Personality of Godhead came to earth in the guise of a pious prince named Rāma. The eldest son of the King of Ayodhyā, Rāma had many duties and responsibilities to tend to, including that of protecting His beautiful and chaste wife Sītā Devī. On one unfortunate occasion, Sītā was kidnapped from the forest by the Rākṣasa demon Rāvaṇa. Rāma and Lakṣmaṇa weren't with her at the time, so they didn't realize she was missing until after she had been taken away. Realizing that Sītā was gone, Rāma frantically searched for her whereabouts. Unable to find her, Rāma gave way to lamentation, followed by anger. He was ready to destroy the entire world as punishment for Sītā's abduction. He couldn't believe that someone would want to harm such a kind and peaceful person. Rāma, being an exemplary government leader and warrior, was very generous. Prior to leaving for the forest, many brāhmaṇas [priests] approached Him and asked for benedictions. Lord Rāma kindly donated all His wealth to them, reminding the brāhmaṇas that there was no limit to what He would give out in charity to those who depended on Him.

Lord Rāma was angry at Himself for not being able to protect Sītā, and He was also angry at all the other living entities who stood by and did nothing while she was taken away. The trees, flowers, deer, and other forms of life in the forest, with the exception of the bird Jatayu, did nothing as Sītā was taken away. Now obviously Rāma was a little aggrieved, so He wasn't thinking rationally. These other life forms really had no ability to defend Sītā, but the Lord's sentiments remind us of an important fact. Any material body which has a soul inside it should be considered a form of life. There is no difference between the qualities of souls, just a difference in the types of bodies they occupy.

Since Rāma was so angry, He was intent on firing a powerful arrow from His quiver that would destroy all of creation. Only God is capable of doing this. Through the perfect recitation of mantras, Rāma's arrows could pack the power of the greatest modern day nuclear weapon. At this time, Lakṣmaṇa stepped in and offered some sound words of advice. He reminded Rāma that there was no reason to lament, nor was there any reason to destroy the whole world. After all, there was only one person responsible for Sītā's kidnapping, and thus only one person worthy of being sought out and punished.

When we hear of worshiping God and devotional service, it's natural to conjure up images of prostrating before a deity, attending a church or temple, and reading scriptures. While these are all certainly components of devotional service, what really constitutes devotional life is love, or prema. By kindly offering instructions, Lakṣmaṇa was also engaging in devotional service, showing his pure love for his brother. Since God is the original person, He is also the original teacher, the first spiritual master. Thus no one is capable of instructing Him. Lakṣmaṇa indeed acknowledged this fact by reminding Rāma that the instructions he was speaking were initially spoken by Rāma Himself. More than anything else, Lakṣmaṇa was acting like a tape recorder in playback mode. A devotee's intellect is capable of functioning like a portable music player which consists only of instructions given by the Lord. In this way, Lakṣmaṇa was an exemplary younger brother, warrior prince, teacher, and student.

What did Lord Rāma do after receiving this advice? He kindly accepted the instructions of his brother and went about searching for Sītā. Eventually the Lord would find what He was looking for. After defeating Rāvaṇa in a fair battle, the Lord finally rescued Sītā and brought her to safety. Rāma was so kind that He made sure to take Rāvaṇa on in an open battle. The Lord didn't lob an arrow from thousands of feet away and destroy his kingdom. The evil elements in Rāvaṇa's kingdom were eventually destroyed anyway by Hanumān and the other Vānaras helping Rāma, but the Lord wanted to give Rāvaṇa an honest fight, a fair chance to win Sītā.

These incidents can teach us so many lessons. We are all in a distressed condition, even if we are unaware of it. During the 1970s, when many Americans were turning to Kṛṣṇa consciousness and becoming devotees, those who didn't understand the movement would often say that the young boys were lost. "They didn't know what to do in life, so they took up this strange religion where they shaved their heads and started chanting in airports." This is certainly an interesting viewpoint, but it also begs the question of how someone who has nowhere to go can be considered lost.

Note: In the 6th verse of the 8th chapter of the Bhagavad-gītā, Lord Kṛṣṇa states that whatever nature one remembers while quitting their body at the time of death, that state of being they will attain in the next life without fail.

Those who don't know they are lost, the karmīs, think that life is going swell for them. Life may indeed be fine in a material sense, but what will happen to their souls after death? We all make plans for the future, either the next day, month, or year, but what about the afterlife? How many of us plan out where our soul will end up next? "Who knows where we go after death? Why should I concern myself with something that is unexplainable?" Karma refers to actions which develop the material body, the outer covering of the soul. Basically anything we do to better our material condition can be considered part of karmic activity, or fruitive action. The rewards of life can be grouped into three general categories: artha [economic development], kāma [sense gratification], and dharma [religiosity]. We can think of karmic life as the search for a sea of gold. "One day I will have enough money so that I won't have to worry about eating, sleeping, or paying bills. Then I will be able to gratify my senses and be happy."

In this search for the sea of gold, we often find ourselves in cold situations. We find something that we think will make us happy, but it turns out to be the source of so much pain in the end. Even those who are rich and famous find struggles in life. Dharma, artha, and kāma aren't guaranteed to provide us any real happiness, for they only aim to please the material body, a body which is destined for destruction. Upon destruction of the current body, a new one is molded based on a person's desires and work. So in this sense, we can say those who don't devote themselves to God are actually the ones who are lost. The greatest obstacle towards success lies in the fact that most of us don't realize that we are lost, for we are unaware of the intended destination.

How do we alleviate the situation? How do we find the right path in life? Just like in Lord Rāma's case, there is something impeding our success, an enemy who has caused us pain. This enemy is known as māyā, or the illusory energy of the material world. Māyā means "that which is not"; hence she causes us to think we'll be happy associating with her, when in reality we really won't. In order to find the proper path to rescue our soul, we have to defeat the soldiers of māyā's army: lust, greed, and anger. One who can control their senses is known as dhīra, or sober, and can thus better understand the position of the soul and how it relates to God.

The great authorities, the pure devotees of Kṛṣṇa, tell us to take up devotional service. We must commit ourselves to regularly chanting, "Hare Kṛṣṇa Hare Kṛṣṇa, Kṛṣṇa Kṛṣṇa, Hare Hare, Hare Rāma Hare Rāma, Rāma Rāma, Hare Hare", and avoid the four pillars of sinful life: meat eating, gambling, illicit sex, and intoxication. Our execution of devotional service must be unmotivated and uninterrupted. Unmotivated in this context means without any personal desire. For example, we shouldn't worship God in hopes of a return reward such as material wealth. We can most certainly be motivated in our service, for without desire no one would take any action. But our motivation must be on the spiritual level, where we maintain a desire to serve the Lord to the best of our abilities.

After Rāma defeated Rāvaṇa, His reward was the safe rescue of His wife. In a similar manner, our reward for executing devotional service is that God will be in our life all the time. Once we get Him, we should never let Him go; devotional service should remain our occupation eternally. This was the example set by Lakṣmaṇa, Sītā, and Hanumān. They are eternally existing, and their only business is to go wherever Rāma goes, or wherever His name is chanted. Thus by taking up devotional service, not only will we find God, but the great devotees will find us as well.

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