This perception of a so-called solidity or substantiality in things is the cause of the
running of the mind and senses towards objects. The mind and the senses cannot
discover the mutation or the transitory nature of things, just as we cannot know that
pictures are moving in a cinema. We enjoy the cinema for a reason which we
ourselves do not know. Why do we enjoy the moving pictures? We cannot see the
distinct pictures on account of the velocity with which they move. If we begin to see
every picture frame distinctly, we cannot enjoy the movie. The perceiving capacity of
the eyes—or rather, the mind—is such that it cannot distinguish between one picture
frame and another on account of the speed with which the film moves.
Likewise is the case with all perceptions in life. There is a cinematographic projection
presented before our eyes which is this world show, or the drama of life. We mistake
the changes of things for a substantiality of things on account of a defect in our
faculties of perception and sensation—not because things are as they appear to be.
There is a parinama, or a change of a vritti, but this change cannot be seen.
We cannot see the change of our own bodies, even. Every moment we change; every
cell changes itself. They say that after seven years every cell has been replaced, so
that we are new persons altogether after every seven years. But, all this cannot be
known. We are babies, we are children, we are adolescents, we are youths, and we are
old men. We cannot know that we have passed through these stages because of the
adhyasa, or the identification of our consciousness, which remains there as a
continuous principle in the midst of these changes that are taking place in the
constitution or structure of the body. There is an adhyasa of perception. There is a
transference of the permanent character of consciousness upon the transitory nature
of things in the perceptual process, and so there is a mistaking of the changing
condition of things for a permanence or substantiality.
The so-called substantiality of things is a phenomenon that is created due to the
transference of values between consciousness and the essential nature of things, but
this is not known to us and we are completely kept in the dark. The truth is
something different—it is parinama, or change. One who is subtle in his vision alone
can perceive what is behind things. That everything in this world is changing every
moment of time cannot be seen with the physical eyes, just as we cannot know the
atomic structure of a physical object merely by gazing at the object with physical eyes
and we require a powerful microscope to see the vibrant forces within it.
Likewise, the vibrant process which is the essential nature of an object is not
detectable by ordinary physical vision. That is why it is said: duḥkham eva sarvaṁ
vivekinaḥ (II.15). Only for the subtle vision it is a process, but for a gross vision it is a
substance. Therefore, the parinama, or the changefulness of things, is something
capable of being known by the most intense form of subtle vision. A viveki alone can
know that things are not what they seem. Hence, this parinama, or changeful
character of things, should give us a lesson that the pursuit of pleasure is really a
pursuit of the will-o’-the-wisp, and that we feel a sensation of pleasure for a reason
which is different from the constitution of the object itself. The reason is something
different, and the notion is quite the contrary.
While the reason behind the perception or sensation of pleasure in our contact with
objects is something, the notion we have about it is the opposite, and so we fall victim
to the clutches of this perceptual process, which is the cause of the sorrow of the