First chapter from karma yoga

First chapter from karma yoga
                                                      CHAPTER I

             KARMA IN ITS EFFECT ON CHARACTER

The word Karma is derived from the Sanskrit Kri, to do; all action is Karma.
Technically, this word also means the effects of actions. In connection with
metaphysics, it sometimes means the effects, of which our past actions were the
causes. But in Karma-Yoga we have simply to do with the word Karma as
meaning work. The goal of mankind is knowledge. That is the one ideal placed
before us by Eastern philosophy. Pleasure is not the goal of man, but
knowledge. Pleasure and happiness come to an end. It is a mistake to suppose
that pleasure is the goal. The cause of all the miseries we have in the world is
that men foolishly think pleasure to be the ideal to strive for. After a time man
finds that it is not happiness, but knowledge, towards which he is going, and
that both pleasure and pain are great teachers, and that he learns as much from
evil as from good. As pleasure and pain pass before his soul they have upon it
different pictures, and the result of these combined impressions is what is called
man's "character". If you take the character of any man, it really is but the
aggregate of tendencies, the sum total of the bent of his mind; you will find that
misery and happiness are equal factors in the formation of that character. Good
and evil have an equal share in moulding character, and in some instances
misery is a greater teacher than happiness. In studying the great characters the
world has produced, I dare say, in the vast majority of cases, it would be found
that it was misery that taught more than happiness, it was poverty that taught
more than wealth, it was blows that brought out their inner fire more than
praise.
Now this knowledge, again, is inherent in man. No knowledge comes from
outside; it is all inside. What we say a man "knows", should, in strict
psychological language, be what he "discovers" or "unveils"; what a man
"learns" is really what he "discovers", by taking the cover off his own soul,
which is a mine of infinite knowledge.
We say Newton discovered gravitation. Was it sitting anywhere in a corner
waiting for him? It was in his own mind; the time came and he found it out. All
knowledge that the world has ever received comes from the mind; the infinite
library of the universe is in your own mind. The external world is simply the
suggestion, the occasion, which sets you to study your own mind, but the object
of your study is always your own mind. The falling of an apple gave the
suggestion to Newton, and he studied his own mind. He rearranged all the
previous links of thought in his mind and discovered a new link among them,
which we call the law of gravitation. It was not in the apple nor in anything in
the centre of the earth.
All knowledge, therefore, secular or spiritual, is in the human mind. In many
cases it is not discovered, but remains covered, and when the covering is being
slowly taken off, we say, "We are learning," and the advance of knowledge is
made by the advance of this process of uncovering. The man from whom this
veil is being lifted is the more knowing man, the man upon whom it lies thick is
ignorant, and the man from whom it has entirely gone is all-knowing,
omniscient. There have been omniscient men, and, I believe, there will be yet;
and that there will be myriads of them in the cycles to come. Like fire in a piece
of flint, knowledge exists in the mind; suggestion is the friction which brings it
out. So with all our feelings and action — our tears and our smiles, our joys and
our griefs, our weeping and our laughter, our curses and our blessings, our
praises and our blames — every one of these we may find, if we calmly study
our own selves, to have been brought out from within ourselves by so many
blows. The result is what we are. All these blows taken together are called
Karma — work, action. Every mental and physical blow that is given to the
soul, by which, as it were, fire is struck from it, and by which its own power
and knowledge are discovered, is Karma, this word being used in its widest
sense. Thus we are all doing Karma all the time. I am talking to you: that is
Karma. You are listening: that is Karma. We breathe: that is Karma. We walk:
Karma. Everything we do, physical or mental, is Karma, and it leaves its marks
on us.
There are certain works which are, as it were, the aggregate, the sum total, of a
large number of smaller works. If we stand near the seashore and hear the
waves dashing against the shingle, we think it is such a great noise, and yet we
know that one wave is really composed of millions and millions of minute
waves. Each one of these is making a noise, and yet we do not catch it; it is
only when they become the big aggregate that we hear. Similarly, every
pulsation of the heart is work. Certain kinds of work we feel and they become
tangible to us; they are, at the same time, the aggregate of a number of small
works. If you really want to judge of the character of a man, look not at his
great performances. Every fool may become a hero at one time or another.
Watch a man do his most common actions; those are indeed the things which
will tell you the real character of a great man. Great occasions rouse even the
lowest of human beings to some kind of greatness, but he alone is the really
great man whose character is great always, the same wherever he be.
Karma in its effect on character is the most tremendous power that man has to
deal with. Man is, as it were, a centre, and is attracting all the powers of the
universe towards himself, and in this centre is fusing them all and again sending
them off in a big current. Such a centre is the real man — the almighty, the
omniscient — and he draws the whole universe towards him. Good and bad,
misery and happiness, all are running towards him and clinging round him; and
out of them he fashions the mighty stream of tendency called character and
throws it outwards. As he has the power of drawing in anything, so has he the
power of throwing it out.
All the actions that we see in the world, all the movements in human society, all
the works that we have around us, are simply the display of thought, the
manifestation of the will of man. Machines or instruments, cities, ships, or menof-
war, all these are simply the manifestation of the will of man; and this will is
caused by character, and character is manufactured by Karma. As is Karma, so
is the manifestation of the will. The men of mighty will the world has produced
have all been tremendous workers — gigantic souls, with wills powerful
enough to overturn worlds, wills they got by persistent work, through ages, and
ages. Such a gigantic will as that of a Buddha or a Jesus could not be obtained
in one life, for we know who their fathers were. It is not known that their
fathers ever spoke a word for the good of mankind. Millions and millions of
carpenters like Joseph had gone; millions are still living. Millions and millions
of petty kings like Buddha's father had been in the world. If it was only a case
of hereditary transmission, how do you account for this petty prince, who was
not, perhaps, obeyed by his own servants, producing this son, whom half a
world worships? How do you explain the gulf between the carpenter and his
son, whom millions of human beings worship as God? It cannot be solved by
the theory of heredity. The gigantic will which Buddha and Jesus threw over
the world, whence did it come? Whence came this accumulation of power? It
must have been there through ages and ages, continually growing bigger and
bigger, until it burst on society in a Buddha or a Jesus, even rolling down to the
present day.
All this is determined by Karma, work. No one can get anything unless he earns
it. This is an eternal law. We may sometimes think it is not so, but in the long
run we become convinced of it. A man may struggle all his life for riches; he
may cheat thousands, but he finds at last that he did not deserve to become rich,
and his life becomes a trouble and a nuisance to him. We may go on
accumulating things for our physical enjoyment, but only what we earn is really
ours. A fool may buy all the books in the world, and they will be in his library;
but he will be able to read only those that he deserves to; and this deserving is
produced by Karma. Our Karma determines what we deserve and what we can
assimilate. We are responsible for what we are; and whatever we wish
ourselves to be, we have the power to make ourselves. If what we are now has
been the result of our own past actions, it certainly follows that whatever we
wish to be in future can be produced by our present actions; so we have to
know how to act. You will say, “What is the use of learning how to work?
Everyone works in some way or other in this world.” But there is such a thing
as frittering away our energies. With regard to Karma-Yoga, the Gita says that
it is doing work with cleverness and as a science; by knowing how to work, one
can obtain the greatest results. You must remember that all work is simply to
bring out the power of the mind which is already there, to wake up the soul.
The power is inside every man, so is knowing; the different works are like
blows to bring them out, to cause these giants to wake up.
Man works with various motives. There cannot be work without motive. Some
people want to get fame, and they work for fame. Others want money, and they
work for money. Others want to have power, and they work for power. Others
want to get to heaven, and they work for the same. Others want to leave a name
when they die, as they do in China, where no man gets a title until he is dead;
and that is a better way, after all, than with us. When a man does something
very good there, they give a title of nobility to his father, who is dead, or to his
grandfather. Some people work for that. Some of the followers of certain
Mohammedan sects work all their lives to have a big tomb built for them when
they die. I know sects among whom, as soon as a child is born, a tomb is
prepared for it; that is among them the most important work a man has to do,
and the bigger and the finer the tomb, the better off the man is supposed to be.
Others work as a penance; do all sorts of wicked things, then erect a temple, or
give something to the priests to buy them off and obtain from them a passport
to heaven. They think that this kind of beneficence will clear them and they will
go scot-free in spite of their sinfulness. Such are some of the various motives
for work.
Work for work's sake. There are some who are really the salt of the earth in
every country and who work for work's sake, who do not care for name, or
fame, or even to go to heaven. They work just because good will come of it.
There are others who do good to the poor and help mankind from still higher
motives, because they believe in doing good and love good. The motive for
name and fame seldom brings immediate results, as a rule; they come to us
when we are old and have almost done with life. If a man works without any
selfish motive in view, does he not gain anything? Yes, he gains the highest.
Unselfishness is more paying, only people have not the patience to practice it. It
is more paying from the point of view of health also. Love, truth, and
unselfishness are not merely moral figures of speech, but they form our highest
ideal, because in them lies such a manifestation of power. In the first place, a
man who can work for five days, or even for five minutes, without any selfish
motive whatever, without thinking of future, of heaven, of punishment, or
anything of the kind, has in him the capacity to become a powerful moral giant.
It is hard to do it, but in the heart of our hearts we know its value, and the good
it brings. It is the greatest manifestation of power — this tremendous restraint;
self-restraint is a manifestation of greater power than all outgoing action. A
carriage with four horses may rush down a hill unrestrained, or the coachman
may curb the horses. Which is the greater manifestation of power, to let them
go or to hold them? A cannonball flying through the air goes a long distance
and falls. Another is cut short in its flight by striking against a wall, and the
impact generates intense heat. All outgoing energy following a selfish motive is
frittered away; it will not cause power to return to you; but if restrained, it will
result in development of power. This self-control will tend to produce a mighty
will, a character which makes a Christ or a Buddha. Foolish men do not know
this secret; they nevertheless want to rule mankind. Even a fool may rule the
whole world if he works and waits. Let him wait a few years, restrain that
foolish idea of governing; and when that idea is wholly gone, he will be a
power in the world. The majority of us cannot see beyond a few years, just as
some animals cannot see beyond a few steps. Just a little narrow circle — that
is our world. We have not the patience to look beyond, and thus become
immoral and wicked. This is our weakness, our powerlessness.
Even the lowest forms of work are not to be despised. Let the man, who knows
no better, work for selfish ends, for name and fame; but everyone should
always try to get towards higher and higher motives and to understand them.
"To work we have the right, but not to the fruits thereof:" Leave the fruits
alone. Why care for results? If you wish to help a man, never think what that
man's attitude should be towards you. If you want to do a great or a good work,
do not trouble to think what the result will be.
There arises a difficult question in this ideal of work. Intense activity is
necessary; we must always work. We cannot live a minute without work. What
then becomes of rest? Here is one side of the life-struggle — work, in which we
are whirled rapidly round. And here is the other — that of calm, retiring
renunciation: everything is peaceful around, there is very little of noise and
show, only nature with her animals and flowers and mountains. Neither of them
is a perfect picture. A man used to solitude, if brought in contact with the
surging whirlpool of the world, will be crushed by it; just as the fish that lives
in the deep sea water, as soon as it is brought to the surface, breaks into pieces,
deprived of the weight of water on it that had kept it together. Can a man who
has been used to the turmoil and the rush of life live at ease if he comes to a
quiet place? He suffers and perchance may lose his mind. The ideal man is he
who, in the midst of the greatest silence and solitude, finds the intensest
activity, and in the midst of the intensest activity finds the silence and solitude
of the desert. He has learnt the secret of restraint, he has controlled himself. He
goes through the streets of a big city with all its traffic, and his mind is as calm
as if he were in a cave, where not a sound could reach him; and he is intensely
working all the time. That is the ideal of Karma-Yoga, and if you have attained
to that you have really learnt the secret of work.
But we have to begin from the beginning, to take up the works as they come to
us and slowly make ourselves more unselfish every day. We must do the work
and find out the motive power that prompts us; and, almost without exception,
in the first years, we shall find that our motives are always selfish; but
gradually this selfishness will melt by persistence, till at last will come the time
when we shall be able to do really unselfish work. We may all hope that some
day or other, as we struggle through the paths of life, there will come a time
when we shall become perfectly unselfish; and the moment we attain to that, all
our powers will be concentrated, and the knowledge which is ours will be
manifest.

Tweet