SIX
Trust Your Inner Guide
–1–
“He is your killer,” my heart said to me.
I was surprised by how clear and unambiguous the message was. It frightened me. The circumstances were odd, to be sure, but was I simply imagining the worst?
It was the dead of night and I had just arrived into Mumbai en route to Delhi. This meant travelling from the international airport across the city to the domestic airport. My flight into Mumbai was late, so there was very little time to make the connecting flight. I couldn’t wait for the next shuttle bus and had to catch a taxi immediately.
One of the Air India attendants accompanied me to the airport exit and, after a brief exchange with a local driver, instructed me to follow the man. I was travelling on my own. It was 2am. I accompanied the driver to his car parked some distance away, pulling a heavy suitcase behind me.
When we reached the car, I was concerned. The car had no taxi markings. It looked just like a regular car. As I got in I noticed there was already someone in the front passenger seat. There was little time and I had been introduced to the driver by an Air India official, so I decided to ignore the warning. Maybe this is how things rolled in Mumbai?
The taxi left the international airport and entered the solitary darkness of the night. There were few cars. I felt very alone and suddenly, very exposed.
“Are we even driving towards the airport?” I wondered. It seemed to me were heading for some remote outback.
After a quarter of an hour of silence the driver began to assert that the cost of the taxi ride would be $200. I needed to pay up now. I reminded the driver that the agreed price, as indicated by the Air India attendant, was 200 Rupees; but he began raising his voice, insisting I had misunderstood. To diffuse the situation, I said I would pay whatever the price was, once we were at the domestic airport.
At this point, I sensed a strong message from the core of my heart that I was in mortal danger. I began to recite mantras for my own protection, which I had learned in the temple monastery. These mantras are most powerful when invoked from the depth of one’s being.
The driver was now on his cell phone. He seemed to be arranging a meeting. After another fifteen minutes of driving we began to enter an area that was pitch black and isolated. The car slowed to a halt behind a black taxi cab. There was no one else in sight.
“You will go into this car. We are changing taxis,” the driver announced.
Emerging from the black car was a burly man with a large handlebar moustache, more commonly seen in rural areas.
“He is your killer,” my heart said to me. The circumstances were odd, to be sure, but was I simply imagining the worst? In that moment, I surrendered to my inner guide. The mantras I had been chanting had strengthened my connection to the guide within, whom I now trusted with my life to see me through this situation.
A voice within, tranquil, but deep like the ocean, told me to remain calm and play along. I did that. The driver popped open the boot, instructing me to shift my suitcase over to the black car. I raised it out of the boot, forty kilos of rare sacred books together with almost everything else I owned.
In that moment, I was filled with a surge of strength and courage. Adrenalin rushing through me, I lifted the large, heavy suitcase with ease, and still holding on to my carry on, made a dash into the darkness.
There was shouting. I heard the two cars start their engines in a hurry and tear away behind me in pursuit. I reached a main road, a dual carriageway with a lot of fast-flowing traffic. Suddenly I spotted a small break in the traffic and dashed across the busy road, now running against the flow of traffic. The two cars pursued me for almost a kilometre on the other side of the road.
At a large crossroads with traffic lights, I hopped into an auto-rickshaw, a small yellow motor-vehicle with three wheels. As the lights changed to green, I knew I had found safety.
At the domestic airport, I reported what had occurred to the officials. They told me I had been extremely lucky. Pulling out a newspaper, they showed me a story that shocked me: a woman from Canada had been found dead at the side of a busy road a week ago, stripped of all her belongings, just ten miles from the airport. She too had been travelling from the international airport in Mumbai to catch a connecting flight. She had stepped into an unmarked car posing as a taxi.
There had been give-away signals, but what if I hadn’t been alert to them? I was outnumbered three to one. This story could have ended in several ways. The ending I experienced was the only good one.
What was it that warned me so clearly and definitively? What had told me to feign cooperation? What had helped me make a dash for my life, signalling the moment to do so? I felt I had been protected. I had listened to my inner guide and that had saved my life.
On the connecting flight, I turned to the
Bhagavad Gita. I opened the page where Krishna reveals his true identity to Arjuna as the inner guide and the source of all wisdom: “I am seated in the hearts of all: from me come remembrance, knowledge and forgetfulness.”
6The embodiment of the wisdom of the ancients dwells in our own heart. In that sense, all wisdom is situated in our heart. We have a golden thread to this wisdom, a natural connection to the Universal Teacher within us.
Later, Krishna shows Arjuna his form as the entirety of existence across all space and time. In this form, Arjuna sees the birth and annihilation of all beings. He sees even himself. Krishna says that this form of his has manifested from the yoga of his own being.
Krishna is Vishvatma, “The Soul of the Universe”, and he is Yogeshvara, “The Lord of Yoga”, because he gives the results of yoga.
7 Just as Krishna, the Soul of the Universe, is present within Arjuna’s chariot, so too is the Soul of the Universe present within our heart, within the chariot of our body. We are not alone on the field of life.
I felt deeply thankful for the inner guide, who had directed my movements—the same teacher who guided Arjuna through his dark night.
Over the years, I’ve developed great trust in the voice of truth from within. My inner guide has always had my best interests at heart, helping me surmount the greatest difficulties, leading me to wise teachers, revealing the secrets of yoga, and always supporting and nurturing me on my personal journey of the soul.
In traversing the dark night of the soul, trusting our inner guide is essential. Our inner guide is the light that illuminates the path on this journey through the dark.
–2–
E. O. Wilson, Professor Emeritus at Harvard University, expressed it poignantly: “We are drowning in information, while starving for wisdom.”
8We have more information available to us than at any time in human history. But the problems of life seem as challenging and intractable as ever. When we’re in a crisis, in real personal difficulty, what we’re looking for is not information, but wisdom.
Wisdom is yogic perception. Wisdom is the deeper perspective we possess as we progress on our journey of yoga. Marcel Proust put it well:
We do not receive wisdom, we must discover it for ourselves, after a journey through the wilderness which no one else can make for us, which no one can spare us, for our wisdom is the point of view from which we come at last to regard the world.
9Life’s most important lessons require that we, ourselves, set out on an inner journey. There is no shortcut.
In setting out on this yoga journey, we will traverse a terrain we have never encountered before. We need a compass, a guide. For Arjuna, that guide is Krishna.
10There are many categories and levels of guides or advisers—from a caring teacher at school who sets us in the direction of our life’s purpose, to a dear friend who speaks to us with candour, to a wise rishi of the highest level, the kind that once mentored kings and queens. According to the esoteric teachings of India, all teachers in our life are expressions of the same archetype, the Universal Teacher within each of us.
11The Universal Teacher assumes different forms in our life to lead us towards the fulfilment of our highest potential through yoga. If we’re not aware or open, we’ll fail to honour the Universal Teacher in our life.
The yoga texts explain that the Universal Teacher manifests in our life in three different ways. The first is as our inner guide, the voice of truth directing us from within.
12 At the centre of our being is a well of wisdom. All the answers to all the questions we’ll ever ask lie here, because this is where Krishna dwells.
The people of ancient India developed a great respect and sensitivity for wisdom revealed in the heart. Whenever we have what we sometimes call a “light-bulb moment”, a moment of awakening to a deeper way of seeing, we’ve heard and recognized the voice of truth. We have the innate potential to recognize truth. When we develop this faculty, we’re able to hear the Universal Teacher speaking to us from within.
Hearing our own inner guide is not always easy though. Often our mind speaks so loudly that we can no longer hear the voice of truth. To hear this voice requires an inner stillness and a special kind of listening, known in India as “surrendered” listening. This is when we listen with an open heart, and with a genuine desire to honour truth in whatever way it reveals itself.
Usually, our mind, the voice of the ego, is continually speaking to us. What does it say?
“They all have more than I do. I’m not good enough. I must work harder.”
“I must show that I’m doing well. I must make myself attractive and lovable.”
“I mustn’t lose this. Without this, I’m nobody.”
“This person is helping me get what I want. She’s my friend.”
“That person is my competition. I must overcome him. What if he gets there before I do? I mustn’t allow that to happen.”
We repeat and reaffirm these messages again and again—and we act on them. This leads to suffering.
When the mind becomes dominant in our life, we struggle to hear our inner guide. The voice of the Universal Teacher within is drowned out by the domineering voice of the mind, by the officious will of the ego.
The dark night of the soul offers a special opportunity to hear the Universal Teacher in our life. This is because the dark night crisis dismembers our ego and fractures our story. In the stillness that follows, if we desire to listen, we can hear the voice of truth speaking to us through all things.
The people of ancient India referred to the inner guide as the Supreme Self, the Soul of all souls. They sought through yoga to connect with that source of wisdom.
During the dark night of the soul, what could be better than to connect with the Soul of all souls? During the dark night, when we have lost all power, what better refuge is there than with the source of all potency and wisdom?
–3–
Imagine we have an extraordinary natural gift—say, we were born to play the violin.
13 Our talent will at first be raw. We can begin developing our skills by practising the violin on our own. Our music teacher at school will be able to set us off in the right direction, but she’ll be able to take us only so far.
Now imagine we were given the chance to train under Itzhak Perlman, or another master of his level. We would soon develop incredible tone, flawless technique, and a unique presence as a violinist. Our latent potential would emerge and blossom fully.
We may not all be natural musicians, but each of us was most definitely born to fulfil a particular purpose. Whether that purpose is “big” or “small”, it is inexpressibly marvellous and deeply fulfilling for us. When viewed from the perspective of endless time and space, any purpose in life will appear very tiny. But when expressed perfectly, our purpose has breath-taking beauty, like an unfurling flower in the wilderness or the emergence of a navigational star on a dark, lonely road. We each have the unique potential to contribute something of special worth to the world.
The second way the Universal Teacher manifests in our life is as a caring mentor. This can take the form of a parent, teacher or advisor. Anyone who guides us through difficulty in our life, who shifts our perspective in a way that inspires us to participate more fully in life, is a yoga teacher, whether they know it or not.
In India, such a person is traditionally called a “guru”, or mentor. A real mentor will always place the interests of the student before his or her own. Importantly, a guru can help a student only as far as the level he or she is at herself. Thus, gurus are of many types with different capacities. The texts of India advise that we try to learn from a guru of the highest degree.
14The ancient texts set out very clearly the qualifications of such a guru. These remarkable qualities have for thousands of years been considered a prerequisite to teaching the sacred lore of the rishis. They are the benchmark against which any mentor should be measured, and the standard to which all genuine mentors will aspire.
Importantly, the
Bhagavad Gita describes a true yoga teacher as a “truth seer”.
15 In other words, this is a person who has herself crossed the dark night of the soul. She knows the inner landscape. The wisdom such a teacher transmits gives a student the ability to truly see, especially in the dark night of the soul.
The
Skanda Purana explains that the syllable
gu stands for “darkness” and
ru for “illumination”. A true guru is therefore someone who dispels the darkness of illusion with the light of transformative wisdom.
16A guru’s knowledge of the sacred texts will be realized knowledge, and not merely intellectual learning.
17 In other words, it will be reflected in the way he or she lives. Thus, the ideal guru will possess mastery over the mind and senses.
18 They will not be driven by a desire for money, fame or followers. In the
Skanda Purana, Mahadeva warns pointedly:
Numerous are the gurus who rob their students of their wealth. But I consider it rare to find a guru who instead steals away the miseries from the student’s heart.
19Another text similarly explains:
One who desires to obtain wealth, fame or service from his students is not fit to become a guru. A true guru is an ocean of compassion, is fulfilled within himself, and works tirelessly for the benefit of others.
20For Arjuna, that mentor is Krishna, his charioteer. Krishna is Arjuna’s dearest friend, someone Arjuna knows he can trust. Arjuna therefore allows himself to be completely vulnerable. Arjuna doesn’t open himself up to a stranger, an unknown guru.
21Likewise, Arjuna doesn’t delegate responsibility for his life to someone else. After Krishna has explained the yoga teachings to Arjuna, Krishna tells him that having understood these teachings, he should act as he chooses.
22 In other words, Arjuna must
choose the direction of his life. He must
own his journey. Ultimately, like Arjuna, we each bear responsibility for our own life.
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The third manifestation of the Universal Teacher is the environment, which is overflowing with wisdom.
23 Water, for example, teaches us fluidity and adaptability. The past teaches us humility. Stillness and silence teach us clarity. Young children teach us authenticity and playfulness. Our teachers are everywhere. They speak to us through all things. We hear their wisdom in our heart.
Suffering is an important teacher too. Many of us spend our whole life running away from it, but suffering deepens us, teaching us compassion, empathy, and non-attachment.
24 Most people move through at least one period in their life marked by intense difficulty and pain, often acknowledging in retrospect that it was the period in which they learned the most about life—and even about death.
In facing the multifarious deaths that arrive with the dark night of the soul, we’re pulled into realms of understanding that might not be readily available during prolonged periods of care-free comfort. Krishna tells Arjuna in the
Gita that he is Death, and in doing so, reveals how we can understand the dark night of the soul to be a manifestation of our inner guide as well.
25It took me many years to begin appreciating that my environment might actually be supporting me at all times. To aid my understanding, my teacher told me about a powerful king named Yadu, who crossed paths with a young and effulgent brahmin, or priest of sacred learning, while travelling through his kingdom.
The king approached the brahmin and said, “Dear brahmin, although all people within this world are burning in the great forest fire of desire and greed, I see that you remain free and aren’t burned by that fire. You are just like a mighty elephant who takes refuge from a blazing forest fire by standing in the cooling waters of the Ganges. Please tell me how you became enlightened, so I may learn from you.”
26The brahmin replied, “I have learned from twenty-four different gurus. They include the earth, wind, ocean, honey thief, hawk and arrow maker. By taking their lessons to heart, I have attained complete freedom from suffering.”
The brahmin then explained to King Yadu what he had learned from each of his teachers. “I observed that the earth provides for everyone’s needs,” he said, “even when humans plunder her resources, turn her lush forests into wasteland, and soak her surface with blood in the most savage of wars. From the earth, I learned the quality of tolerance. Similarly, the trees of the earth give their bark, roots, fruits, leaves, wood and shade, without any expectation of return. This taught me the quality of dedication to others. It taught me to make the welfare of others the sole reason for my existence.”
27The brahmin continued: “The wind travels everywhere, sometimes passing through a waterfall, a fragrant sandalwood forest or a crematorium. The wind crosses dark and forbidding places, yet remains unafraid. It carries the aromas of different locations, but remains unentangled and undisturbed. From the wind, I learned that while we may find ourselves in challenging and troublesome situations in life, we can remain fearless and undisturbed, thereby transcending ‘good’ and ‘bad’.
28“From the ocean, I learned that whatever life brings our way, we should remain undiminished in who we are. During the rainy season, the rivers rushing to the sea are overflowing; and during the summer, they dry up. But the ocean always remains unmoved and inexhaustible. Similarly, a wise person is never shaken, even in the midst of the greatest difficulties. She remains at peace whether she meets with success or failure. This is because she doesn’t seek her identity in these things. Therefore, they don’t define her.”
29The brahmin continued: “One day, I happened to see a person in the forest breaking open a bee hive to collect all the honey that the countless bees had spent their entire lives producing. From this I learned about the dangers and futility of needless accumulation of capital, which simply creates greed, danger and fear. Humans can be like bees who struggle to produce a large quantity of honey, which is then stolen by a more powerful capitalist for his own enjoyment or benefit. If our wealth is not lost during our life, death will in the end surely take everything from us. I concluded that I shouldn’t make the amassing of capital an end in its own right. Rather, the primary purpose of wealth is to help others.
30“One day, I observed a group of large hawks in flight. Unable to find any prey, the hawks suddenly joined forces to attack a weaker hawk that was carrying some meat. The weaker hawk soared, dodged and dove to save itself. At last, the weaker hawk, its life in peril, gave up the meat it was holding on to, and at that moment it was freed from misery. Seeing this, I understood that humans form deep attachments to objects and outcomes, which they believe will make them happy. But these attachments are a source of suffering. As soon as we relinquish our possessiveness and attachment, we become liberated.
31“Another time, I observed an arrow maker at work. Suddenly drums, trumpets and other musical instruments could be heard, as a large procession approached. Despite all the commotion, the arrow maker was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t even notice the king, who passed right next to him. This filled me with wonder. Most of us, I thought, are continually distracted by the commotion of daily life. If we could practise yoga with the undivided focus and absorption of the arrow maker, how our life would be transformed.
32“In this way, I learned from twenty-four different teachers. I took their teachings to heart and began applying them in my own life. This is how I attained enlightenment.”
Hearing this, King Yadu accepted this effulgent and fearless brahmin as his guru. The king developed the same qualities as the brahmin and began ruling his vast kingdom as a philosopher-king.
I learned from this story that there is beauty and perfection in all things. If we’re awake to the voice of truth, if we hear that voice speaking to us through all things, we realize that the environment is always friendly. It is not hostile. A person committed to the path of yoga perceives opportunity all about her, even in times of difficulty. As William Shakespeare eloquently put it: “Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head.”
33In every challenge or difficulty, a precious jewel awaits us. Most of us see only the outer form of the circumstance and never look for that hidden jewel. We’re unable to see it because it lies in a direction we don’t often look: within.