consciousness, what is known as asmita in yoga parlance—called the ego-principle,
usually—is what obstructs this unity. There is an intense affirmation of oneself which
is so hard that it cannot be either understood or overcome. And, on the basis of this
self-affirmation, there is all this practice—yoga and whatnot.
It is the most painful thing to conceive the abolition of the ego or the obliteration of
one’s personality. Even when we conceive of immortality, we always think of
immortality of the ego, or the perpetuation of individuality. We would like to be the
same Mr. or Mrs. even in the immortal condition, so that endlessly, for durationless
eternity, we will maintain this particular personality. This is the idea of immortality
we have, and this does not leave us merely because we are philosophically minded.
This is more substantial than our philosophy; and that prejudice will persist even till
the end of the day, even till the doom of the person. This sits on our head even at the
time of meditation. There is a subtle affirmation of oneself which refuses to get
identified with anything else in this world.
How can we identify ourselves with anything else when we have got such a self-
conceited individuality which affirms itself as isolated from everything else? We have
got a prestige and a status and a meaning of our own, due to which we always keep
ourselves aloof from everybody else. We have a thought of our own; we have a feeling
of our own; we have an opinion about things which is unique by itself—all which are
the expressions of this self-affirming principle. It is this peculiar thing, which refuses
to be observed by even the most investigative of minds, that prevents any kind of
success in this world. All success, whatever be the nature of this success—temporal or
spiritual, secular or religious—is nothing but the unity of the endeavour with the
objective on hand. If the objective is not achieved, how can we call it a success?
An achievement is nothing but the unity that we acquire with the aim that we have in
our mind. If this unity cannot be achieved, there is no achievement at all. There is no
such thing as success where the object of success stands outside us, refusing to come
near us. Even the so-called unity of objectives that we achieve in this world and the
successes that we speak of in the various walks of life, are really not successes. They
are only apparent achievements of the objective, not real achievements, because they
have an end. The object has not really come to our possession; it stood outside us
always, merely because we did not allow it to come in. We have invited our guest, but
when he comes, we close the door. This is what we are doing in meditation.
Meditation is the invitation of a guest: “Come, I want you. I want to embrace you.”
But when the guest enters, we close the door, and there is no success. This door is the
ego. It will close itself and prevent the entry of the object into itself—the subject, or
prevent the entry of consciousness into the object. So, with all the hectic efforts of the
meditating consciousness, the unity cannot be achieved as long as this personality
asserts itself. The greatest obstacle before us is what yoga calls asmita. There is the
form of the object, called the rupa in Sanskrit, and there is the essentiality of the
subject, called the svarupa. The svarupa is the quintessential form, the basic essence
of the ‘self’, and the rupa is the form of the object. The rupa always manages to keep
itself away from the svarupa of the meditating consciousness. We always perceive
the object; we never unite ourselves with the object. Such a thing has not been done
because the senses, working together with the mind, act as a screen. They sift all
processes of perception and take only the impressions of perception, sensation, etc.,