“mātrā-sparśās tu kaunteya
śītoṣṇa-sukha-duḥkha-dāḥ
āgamāpāyino ‘nityās
tāṁs titikṣasva bhārata
“O son of Kuntī, the temporary appearance of happiness and distress, and their disappearance in due course, is like the appearance and disappearance of the seasons of winter and summer. All this has its origin in the perception of the senses, O son of Bharata, and one should learn to tolerate it without being disturbed.”
(Bhagavad Gita 2:14)
The happiness that is commonly pursued is nothing more than a passing form of exaltation. Its nature is unstable, and its duration illusory. What is often mistaken for bliss or fulfillment is, in reality, a brief respite between two states of agitation. True freedom does not consist in achieving moments of euphoria, but in remaining free from the oscillation between enthusiasm and despondency.
Fulfillment does not reside in what intensifies, but in what does not fluctuate. It is neither exaltation nor sadness, but a state in which both experiences lose their power. Where both the desire to be happy and the fear of being unhappy cease, a serenity independent of external conditions arises. Those who let go of the coin abandon the game of its two sides. They no longer identify with happiness or its negation: they simply are.
Understanding this dissolves the constant search for the changing and temporary. All joy anticipates its loss; all loss, a possible return. Consciousness ceases to revolve with that movement. Instead of clinging, it observes. It knows that every beginning has an end and that every rise inevitably leads to a fall. This understanding does not imply a rejection of life, but a different way of inhabiting it. Nothing is gained by giving in to the impulses of desire and mental demands. Peace does not consist in denying experience, but in transcending its power to disturb. It is not achieved by escaping the world, but by suspending dependence on its fluctuations. When joy comes, the wise person does not become elated. When sorrow appears, they are not disturbed. Not because of insensitivity, but because they no longer identify with the mutable. Emotion arises and disappears, comes and goes. The consciousness that witnesses it remains. That permanence is peace: not an emotion, not a sensation, not a mood. It is stability without oscillation. Those who dwell in this balance desire nothing. There is no search, no conflict, no uncertainty. Only lucid presence remains.
It is not surprising that many great masters did not attract crowds. Most people crave intensity, not silence. However, what is usually called life is mere repetition. The wheel turns, but its movement leads nowhere. Only those who stop, who contemplate without being carried away, stop turning with it. They have left the cycle, they have freed themselves.
That serene observation, unaffected by beginnings and endings, by highs and lows, knows peace. Not because it has conquered it, but because it has stopped seeking it. In that cessation begins a way of being that requires no name, no definition, no determination, no opposite.”
Prabhuji
