of stone? Infinite—no number—because anything can be carved out of it. Likewise,
infinite capacities are present in the original substance—namely, prakriti. But the
sculptor does not concentrate on the infinite capacity present in the block of stone.
The sculptor has in mind a particular pattern. That is the time-form into which
prakriti changes itself, and in regard to which it concentrates itself.
The sculptor has only a specific idea in his mind: “I will carve a lion, or a human
form,” or some such thing, in spite of the fact that many other things also could have
been made out of the very same stone. Likewise, it is not that prakriti can manifest
itself only in this form of the universe. It can manifest itself in some other form also,
so we should not think that this is the only thing that prakriti is capable of doing.
This wondrous universe that is before us is one shape it has taken, and it can take
millions and millions of shapes of a different kind altogether, which are unthinkable
by any kind of mind. Thus, it is said in the Caitanya Caritarmita: ananta-koṭi
brahmāṇḍa (C.C. XX.284). An endless number of universes do exist, just as an endless
number of statues exist in a block of stone. Nobody can say how many universes are
there. Hence, this particular universe, about which we are wonder-struck, is only one
shape prakriti has taken out of the many that it is capable of. That one thing is
troubling us so much.
This shape that prakriti has taken is inclusive of our bodies, our minds, our
personalities; all these individuals are part of this drama of the mulaprakriti. As it
was mentioned previously, it has modified itself into many forms—primarily into the
object and the subject. We regard ourselves as subjects, the percipients, the seers, the
cognisers, or the experiencers, and regard everything else as the object.
The problem of life is simple, and it can be stated in one sentence. The problem of life
is the difficulty that one feels in adjusting oneself with the objects outside, with which
one is always irreconcilable. The reason is that the gunas of prakriti, which are the
primary constituents of all objects, are continuously changing, modifying themselves,
and it is difficult to understand the patterns into which they cast themselves, the
changes which they follow in their course. We cannot follow the course of prakriti,
the speed with which the gunas move. Also, we cannot understand what will be the
intention of the gunas even in the next moment, because of the fact that we have
egoism in our personality.
We are not in harmony with the gunas of prakriti; we have got a personality. We
have got a substance of our own, a kernel which asserts itself as absolutely
independent. What this essence or kernel of personality does is that it cuts off any
kind of information in regard to what is taking place outside. We cannot have ingress
into the processes that are taking place outside in the universe because there is a
vehement affirmation of the ego that its ideas, as they stand now, are all the reality
for it, and nothing else exists. The ego cannot cope with the changes that take place
outside because they are not in accordance with the notions that it has. The gunas of
prakriti are uniformly present everywhere, and they inexorably work impartially
both in the subject as well as in the object. But the subject has an ego that prevents
the knowledge of this impartial working of the gunas, and it is this that has to be
tackled directly by the process of samyama. If this fortress of the ego can be broken,
there can be immediate entry into the nature of the object, and then we flow with the
current of things. Then nobody can control us, and nobody can harass us. Nobody
can create a problem for us.