In this essay I want to clarify certain ambiguous terms and states with respect to the teachings of Ramana Maharshi and advaita vedanta. Some (but not all of the terms) that I will clarify include the below.
Bliss sheath
Samadhi
Laya
The Self
The “I am” thought / the ego
Knowledge / aham sphurana / the I-I / the Self ‘as distinguished from non-Self’
The Self vs. the self (or ego)
First let’s distinguish between the self and the Self — the self is the “I am“ thought and everything that that thought is attached to. That I am thought is the sense of being an experiencer and a doer, of being a person, a body, someone who has memories, etc. It is the ego, it is that which enables any experience, because it is only when there is an “I that experiences” that there can be experience. Experience is dualistic by nature. It requires an I and a not-I. The ego is the subject that enables the object of experience; it is the ‘in here’ that enables the ‘out there’ (and everything experienced, including thoughts and feelings, is ‘out there’).
At the core the ego is that sense of simply being a separate entity at all. But if that thought is sufficiently isolated from all the things it is confused with, it disappears; it can only be a separate entity when confused with other things. That is the notion of ‘superimposition’ or abhyasa.
When the I thought disappears, that doesn’t mean that the true I disappears, just the thought that “I am.”
That ego thought is not in words; it’s not a conscious belief. It is a deep seated structure in the mind that organizes our perception, indeed that allows our perception.
The ego is what Maharshi calls the “I.” The ego is the reflection of the true Self, which is what he calls by many names: Self, brahman, “I-I,” jnana or “aham sphurana,” and there are others. The aham sphurana is the sort of root of the I, the impersonality of the I (a paradox in words, but it is not a paradox in reality!). Ultimately all the categories which point to the Self are really just other names for the Self. Even the practices that “lead” to the Self, like surrender and self-inquiry, are themselves nothing but other names for the Self.
So the goal of spiritual practice is to examine the ego and see its illusory nature, piercing the veil that it is through to the recognition of the I-I as one’s “real identity.” Indeed, it is not even exactly that, because ‘identity’ suggests a ‘one who identifies as,’ whereas the true Self is not of this nature. There are not-two (this is what advaita means). But life can be lived without the mistake of ignorant identification with the experiencer/doer/separate entity.
The Self is beyond all adjectives. It is not an object. It is, however, despite that, complete, perfect, stainless, and of the nature of consciousness and bliss — although not quite in the ways in which we know these terms. It is the true source of happiness and the end to all existential questions.
When non-identification with the ego becomes totally natural, it is called sahaja samadhi (constant, natural absorption of the mind) or jagrat sushupti (waking sleep). These are all terms Maharshi used. It is also Knowledge or jnana.
In sahaja samadhi, Self alone then lives. More on samadhi later on.
Sheaths (or koshas)
Next, let’s talk a bit about sheaths. In vedanta, the mind-body complex is said to be composed of five “sheaths,” each outer one holding the others within it, sort of like Russian dolls. So the outer-most is the literal physical body, including its sense organs and limbs. Then comes the ‘prana,’ which is the sort of pumping life force that makes the body work, the body’s energy. Then within that is what is called the manas or ’mind,’ though that can be a misleading English translation. It is that which registers impressions, but doesn’t really judge them. It is fairly instinctive. Then within that is the intellect, which is the organ of discernment, that which judges. Then within that is the ahamkara, or the thought that “I am,” which is also the seat of the will, that is, the sense of choice. That, again, is the ego thought, or self.
This last sheath is also called the bliss sheath. It is the nature of pure bliss or happiness. Why is that? Because it is the reflection of the Self. All pleasure is the thought descending to and meditating on this sheath. This happens briefly whenever we get a desire fulfilled, and it also happens in deep sleep. The problem is that this experience of the bliss sheath is temporary.
Another way of putting the goal of spiritual practice is to pierce all five of these sheaths to the Self, which sits within them all, and which simultaneously holds them all within it. It is smaller than the smallest and simultaneously larger than the universe.
The entire world of thought, meaning, and change is merely a wave within the Self; in fact, not even quite that, for the very concept of ‘wave’ is within the thought-world. The Self is beyond the thought-world.
The gateless gate, ignorance, and suffering
Now let’s think about this from another angle, in the terms of the gateless gate, which is a useful Zen metaphor. On one side of the gate is the seeker. The seeker’s sight is clouded by this thing called ignorance. What is ignorance? Ignorance is a very special and illusory thought, a thought of the nature of forgetfulness, that is, its only function is to hide something else — namely, the Self. That is its ‘veiling’ function, or avarana. This is ignorance is what ‘makes up’ the bliss sheath and the ego. Ignorance is like a cloud; it simultaneously veils the Self, but also cannot help but reflect it. That is why it is of the nature of (temporary, changing) bliss — because of that reflective property.
Ignorance is also known as what is called identification. Identification means a belief that “I am” some particular thing — an experiencer, a doer, a body, a mind, a set of memories, one who has relationships and career prospects, etc. Identification is the natural result of ignorance. That is, ignorance causes identification to go beyond the simple “I am” and attach itself to many other things which “I am.” All these things have to be sorted out and seen past before the ego thought can be noticed in its purity as merely a thought, and not reality.
The ego and its identifications are fueled and maintained by networks of desire and fear that are created as a result of such identification. Because the mind is believes it is a person, it becomes agitated and looks for what is pleasurable and tries to avoid what is painful. It tries to exceed all the limitations that afflict people: death, loss, limitations of knowledge and of control, and so on. This is, of course, a hopeless quest.
In the process, the mind becomes restless and cannot really focus. It darts here and there. This is the ‘manifestation’ or vikshepa or ‘restlessness’ effect of ignorance. It’s a secondary effect; it can be said to last after ignorance disappears — although this is debatable. This restlessness is basically what causes suffering. It blocks us from seeing the reflection of the Self in the bliss sheath, in the same way that waves on a lake prevent us from clearly seeing the reflection of the Sun in it.
If the veil of ignorance is there, then the mind suffers if there is also restlessness. But if, for whatever reason, there is no restlessness, then there is no suffering, even if the veiling ‘remains.’ Restlessness can be temporarily halted. This happens very briefly any time a desire is fulfilled. It also happens in deep sleep; there is still ignorance, but the mind is absolutely still. Therefore there is no suffering — temporarily. When the mind awakens, restlessness returns, and so with it, suffering.
The only way out of this situation is to pierce the veil of ignorance/identification — to pierce the ego by examining it. For this, it helps to reduce restlessness as much as possible, since that allows for the concentration that enables veil-piercing.
So on one side of the gateless gate, the seeker seeks to get rid of ignorance. In order to do that, the mental restlessness has to be quieted. That is, the entire structure and framework that has been built on top of ignorance has to be slowly hacked away at. This happens most easily by undermining its foundation in the ego. By undermining the ego through self-inquiry or surrender, the entire structure is destroyed.
However, there may be some prerequisites to effective self-inquiry or surrender. A seeker needs a combination of an intellectual framework — that is, learning the basics of the philosophy of Self-realization — and also to deal with emotional baggage, which is essentially becoming increasingly honest about one’s desires. There are many ways to do this latter, but I recommend artistic/emotional expression and psychoanalysis/psychoanalytic psychotherapy (this is a particular kind of therapy). These steps may vary from person to person. Some have much less emotional baggage than others. Some require more intellectual explanations than others in order to believe. It depends.
Either way, the mental restlessness is quieted eventually, and then concentration can be established, and the I am thought, or ego — which is the site of the ignorance — can be examined carefully. This is what happens in self-inquiry or surrender. When the I am thought is examined carefully, first the mind quiets further, but in fits and starts, then that quietness becomes relatively smooth, and then it becomes absolutely smooth. That last is the waking samadhi we’re looking for (more on that in the next section), and is concurrent with a glimpse of Knowledge or sphurana — the Knowledge that the I am thought is a total illusion. Not only does it disappear, it becomes apparent that it never existed.
This Knowledge is the “gate” part of the gateless gate.
But passing through that gate, on the other side, there is no gate at all. There was no I am thought, no ignorance, and thus no Knowledge!
So on the other side of the gateless gate, there is a perspective-less perspective… there is a kind of paradox in all this that cannot be stated in words. Ignorance disappears, and its disappearance is also the knowledge that it was never there in the first place to disappear.
But then one seems to fall back. Who falls back? Actually, no one falls back. This is part of the illusion of the “I am” thought, that there is ever any falling back. When one goes back to waking samadhi, it is again seen that there was nobody who could fall back.
Samadhi, self-inquiry, and surrender
Self-inquiry and surrender are the spear tips of the spiritual process. In brief, self-inquiry is continuously chasing the clear, natural sense that “I am” and trying to locate it. Surrender is ignoring all thought and totally relaxing, maintaining only the thought of surrender. Both are to be practiced every waking moment, not in some formal sitting session. Much more on self-inquiry here. More on surrender here. And more on both in my books.
So one does self-inquiry or surrender and gets to a state where “I am aware of emptiness” — this is a relatively still mind. Would this emptiness be the same as experiencing bliss? It might be, because it’s a relatively relaxed mind.
Now when this keeps getting interrupted over and over again, in quick succession, this is one stage of things. It’s also what may be called dharana in the Patanjali yoga sutras.
When it becomes relatively smooth, it becomes what might be called dhyana in the meditation sutras, and it becomes a state of bliss… but a state of experienced bliss, such that one may say “I am experiencing bliss.” Still here there is some bumpiness. That bumpiness is the restlessness that allows one to make that statement, to still experience the “I am” thought as something separate. Again, the ego can only be experienced as separate when it is attached to something for contrast. When the contrasts are eliminated, there is no separate experience of the ego as such.
If it becomes so absolutely smooth that one’s identity is totally lost, then that is samadhi in yoga terminology. Samadhi means total absorption. Samadhi is only recognized in retrospect. That is, only when looking back do you say “Oh, I felt like I wasn’t even there, but of course I was.” It’s the dream-like state of what is called in Western psychology “flow” or “being in the zone.”
There is no sense that “I am” in samadhi. If that thought occurs, one is out of samadhi. Samadhi is the experience of the bliss sheath but in waking life.
Is there an “I am” thought when one is in samadhi? The answer is that it cannot be said one way or the other. Theoretically, it might be said that the “I am” thought is experienced in its absolute purity, which is totally transparent. Or it might be said not to be there at all, and therefore no experience to be experienced. The “I am” thought is required for a sense of separation and thus of experience. This is why the Zen koan, “if a tree falls in the forest, and no one is there to hear it, does it make a sound?” refers to. If the ego exists, but it is not attached to anything, does the ego exist? If experience exists, but there cannot be said to be an ego, does experience exist? These questions are all intertwined.
If samadhi is experienced with eyes closed and the senses essentially shut off to the world, it is essentially a yogically activated deep sleep. That becomes the problematic laya that Maharshi warns against. That is, it can simply become a pleasant state to which one succumbs. It does not lead to the knowledge that destroys mental tendencies any more than deep sleep does. One can, as Maharshi says, be in this state for lifetimes without accomplishing anything. One’s underlying mental tendencies simply sit there and return when one returns from that state. This too is said to be what happens, for example, when one takes part in holy rituals or bathes in holy rivers; for a moment, the mind is stilled. But one’s ‘sins’ (one’s underlying mental structure which supports and is supported by ignorance - these are called the vasanas in Sanskrit) lie sitting a little distance away. After the ritual or the bath, they come right back. The only solution is to pierce the veil of the ego once and for all, and in that piercing, the very idea that there was anything ever to pierce, or anyone to pierce it, will also be destroyed.
Laya, or the yogic deep sleep, is also known as nirvikalpa samadhi (samadhi without any thought disturbances or perceptions). Nirvikalpa samadhi in this sleep or laya form is not to be confused with what Maharshi calls sahaja nirvikalpa samadhi, which is when this “yogic sleep” happens naturally when the mind and body appear to be awake and doing! This is nothing other than Knowledge, living in one’s true nature.
Now, if samadhi is activated with the eyes open, then its significance depends on what is being done to get to it. If the samadhi is connected with a particular activity — say, a sport — then it’s ‘flow’ or ‘being in the zone.’ It doesn’t bring Self-knowledge. The same is true simply of that state when one wakes up but hasn’t quite remembered where or who you are yet. That’s samadhi for a split second, but because it isn’t attained in a disciplined away, it doesn’t do much.
This is also true if one enters samadhi unwittingly or unknowingly, simply by accidentally letting the mind relax.
But if the waking samadhi is entered through a process of self-inquiry or surrender, then it eventually leads to knowledge. This is because those processes basically closely examine the ego, and eventually separate it from all its supports. In doing so, they activate sporadically its blissful nature. The mind, attracted by this bliss, does it more and more and more. Eventually, the tendencies of ego-attachment are weakened and destroyed. The ego is seen for what it actually is, once and for all.
Waking samadhi is the experience of purest bliss while still being ‘able,’ at least from the external point of view, to think and feel, etc.
The experience of waking samadhi is only enabled when one unlocks what is called “Knowledge,” or the “aham sphurana” — this is what Maharshi also calls the “I-I.” This I-I is actually nothing other than the enlightenment that is and always was, but one seems to slip away from it and ‘back into’ ignorance — this is the state of unsteady Knowledge. So one goes through the whole sequence of motions again.
This waking samadhi, when merely glimpsed or touched on, has the sense of what Maharshi calls “like gazing into vacancy or a dazzling crystal or light.” This is, again, already a kind of vision of it. Persisting in it, one gets a kind of Knowledge experience, which is the gateless gate, and which can feel like a sense of ‘inversion’: what you thought was “the self in here” is actually inside the real You. All that was outside is actually Inside What You Really Are.
This is passing through the gateless gate, though one can be summoned back if the structural habits of the mind have not been fully conquered yet. But by repeating this over and over through self-inquiry or surrender, those structural habits get burned up, and eventually, clarity becomes permanent and steady. But you can’t desire to revisit waking samadhi. Any idea of “place” or even a state called waking samadhi is just a memory. Memories are not It. It is not a thought.
One gets “there” through self-inquiry or surrender again, without intending to revisit a particular place. And, ironically, this place is the revelation, once more, that ignorance never existed, and that this place is all that there ever was, and you’ve always been here.
Let’s again note what Knowledge is. When Knowledge is is an experience in time that occurs to a person — that is, the seeker’s thinking “I was ignorant, and now I know,” then Knowledge is actually what is considered the last gasp of duality, the last gasp of wrong thinking, the last gasp of ego. Knowledge, whose form is the nature of the brahmakara or akhandakara vritti (terms meaning ‘thought in the form of Brahman,’ or ‘the formless thought’) burns up ignorance, by altering the mental habits that sustain it, and then ends up destroying itself. It is, just as Maharshi says, a stick which is used to start the funeral pyre but eventually burns itself up.