The yoga process is a very hard job because it is difficult to get over the limitations of
the mind. All effort that we usually put forth is psychological. It is mental. Inasmuch
as the efforts are mental, and it is the mind that we are trying to get over, it really
looks like jumping over one’s own skin, or climbing over one’s own shoulders. We
cannot control the mind because the mind itself is the controller. The very effort at
control of the mind is motivated and initiated by the mind itself. So it is a very great
juggler’s trick, as it were, a magician’s performance—yet, it is so. The practice of yoga
is terrific when we actually enter into it. It is terrific because we are not going to deal
with any object. We are going to catch the very centre of the problem, which has been
up to this time escaping our notice and making us fools in this world of so-called
wisdom.
The difficulty of the practice of yoga arises when we tackle the mind itself, and not
before. As long as we are able to concentrate ourselves on sense objects, and we are
busy only with the acquisition of knowledge in respect of outside objects, we may
appear to be very great geniuses and great masters of knowledge. But our mettle is
tested when we turn back upon the mind itself and try to catch it. This is like catching
our own shadow—a very hard job. But this is the thing that is to be done. In a very
simple manner, the yoga sutra of Patanjali tells us that the subject can be known
when it returns to itself. When the consciousness, which is involved in the process of
the vrittis of the mind, withdraws itself from the process and asserts its
independence, it knows itself. This is very easily said but it cannot be practised,
because the subject cannot be withdrawn from the mind inasmuch as it has identified
itself with the mind to such an extent that even if we tell it, “You are independent,” it
will not believe.
We are told in fables, comparable to the fables of Aesop, that a lion cub was living in
a herd of sheep. It started bleating like a sheep inasmuch as it was living with the
sheep for years together, and it never knew that it was a lion cub. It could not roar
like a lion; it only bleated like a lamb. This went on for years together, and one day it
so happened, it seems, a lion saw its own kin moving in the midst of sheep, bleating
like a lamb. It couldn’t understand what had happened to this lion that it was
bleating like a lamb. So it called the cub aside and said, “What is the matter? You are
not roaring like me. Who are you?” The cub said, “I am a lamb.” The lion said, “You
are not a lamb. You are a lion.” “Oh, is it so?” the cub said, because it could not see its
own face. How can a lion see its own face? It thought that it was a sheep because it
was brought up in the midst of sheep, so it could only make a sound like a lamb. It
could not roar like a lion. The lion said, “You are not a sheep. Look at the sheep. Do
you see the sheep?” “Yes, I see the sheep, and I am also like that,” said the cub. “No,
you are not like that. You are like me,” insisted the lion. “I am like you?” the cub said.
“How can I be like you? You have a very terrific face.” “But you are like that,” the lion
said. “No. How can I know that?” asked the cub. The lion replied, “Come.” He took
the cub to a pond of water and said, “Do you see my face reflected?” “Yes, I see,” said
the cub. “Do you see your face?” asked the lion. “Yes,” the cub said, “I am also like
you.” “Now roar!” urged the lion. The lion roared and said, “You also roar as I roar!”
“I see. Very good,” the cub said. Then it started roaring. It had forgotten that it was
lion, and now it was shown that it was a lion because it could see its own face in the
water, as pointed out by its master.
We require a Guru like that. We all think we are human beings, just as the lion cub
thought it was a sheep. The very same rule applies to us. We require a lion to come