Light on Life: The Yoga Journey to Wholeness, Inner Peace, and Ultimate Freedom

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through the potential of ego to revive and restore itself, retains its in­
herent flaws and fault lines. From the exterior they will be invisible,
but until the final dissolution of ego's presence, they lurk, ready to be
reactivated under stress or temptation. That is why only seedless
samadhi leads to the final solution of self, the final realization of Self,
and the ultimate freedom from the snares of mortal incarnation.
A trivial example of the still slightly imperfect consciousness
(chidra citta) might be that when, as occasionally occurs, I am invited
to conferences with the holy men of India and indeed from around the
world, we all stay in a hotel. I cannot help but notice that many of
these holy men are unduly and vastly interested to see who has been
given which room, who has the most luxurious room with the best
view. It is a sort of hierarchical competition for status. One should not
make too much of this, but to my mind, it smacks of something short
of perfection and humility.
That is why my practice remains unabated. To offer a simile that
brings us back to earth, imagine a tennis star, glorious in the prowess
of his youthful excellence. Yoga talks of karma (action), jnana (knowl­
edge), and bhakti (devotion). These are three intertwined limbs of
yoga. The youthful tennis star is engaged in action, winning tourna­
ments, performing prodigious feats as I myself was deemed to do as a
young yoga practitioner. I was a star on stage, a marvel of gymnastic
ability. Am I now? I am eighty-six years old. Karma and action for me
were also always teaching, teaching and transmitting what I knew
when I knew it. But the body loses its edge. In 1979 I had an accident
that robbed me of my prowess, like the player who damages his arm
or back. So I had to learn wisdom, wisdom through adversity. What
came back was maturity, an intelligence that informed action, like the
tennis star who lacks half a yard of speed on the court, but has learned
the subtlety of his craft. What was instinctive had bewme conscious.
That was like a sports star in his waning days, both k·ssl'l' and grt·all'l'.
Hut there comes a tinll' when the great tennis champion lnusl ITiirl'. I k


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