[Advaita-l] The Miracle of life
vishy1962 at yahoo.com
Sun Aug 1 00:28:06 CDT 2010
Pranams. I too wonder like this many time as what the life is all about?
Am I not someone who is watching the breathing rather breathing? But, if so,
would the same 'I' witnessed the movement when this breathing started or would
it witness the movement when it stops??
Like this many many questions araise, when I distance myself from this BMI
not only just breathing.... everything seeing, hearing, eating, digesting,
walking ...why even sleeping and dreaming too... all are the activities are the
BMI to sustain itself...isnt it??? that BMI exists in me and and I am the
witness of all these...right?? But the question is am I the witness of this BMI
alone or everything thats happening in the existance???
Dear Aacharyaji, Please dont stop just with raising these questions, but
complete the process with the answers too
From: Kuntimaddi Sadananda <ksadananda108 at gmail.com>
To: advaita-l at lists.advaita-vedanta.org
Sent: Wed, 28 July, 2010 9:17:52 PM
Subject: [Advaita-l] The Miracle of life
I know not what life is. Yet I am so amazed looking at the expression
of life in the varieties that I see – as it beautifully unfolds right
in front of my eyes to see, as soon as I get up from my sleep. Every
day I wonder. The scientist in me is baffled –and does not stop
wondering – trying to find – keep asking again and again - what
exactly it means when I say I am alive. It is said that wonder is
when the intellect is blanked out without an answer - looking for it
in the empty space of the mind, resting itself with no direction to
go. Everyday my mind seems to go blank – in the wonder of life.
I am breathing. I know that means, I am alive. I move my hands and
legs – yes they are moving – lately with some difficulty, as the aging
is taking its toll. I can watch and be aware of all that process. I
always come to know that I have knees too, when I tried to get up
after sitting for an hour. Am I really doing all that? – I wonder –or
is it being done. I am intensely conscious of the mechanics –
breathing is going on. No, I am not really breathing – I can see
breathing is going on. I can watch – it is really a wonder – how the
mechanics is going on. Oh! Mechanics is not breathing; it does not
explain who is breathing. I do not seem to be doing any thing anymore
by myself- neither breathing nor seeing things or the world when my
eyes are open. Wait a minute. I am seeing things. I open my eyes, yes
that I remember; but seeing? Am I doing the seeing? Oh! I do not know
any more. Yes, of course, I know the mechanics of seeing? But who is
seeing? I am? No, I just opened my eyes, that is all; but seeing, I
have not done anything to see.
I wonder again –back to my breathing. Am I really breathing? Yes, of
course, I am, since I am alive. Wait a minute. Am I alive therefore I
am breathing; or I am breathing therefore I am alive. I do not know
anymore. A friend of mine stopped breathing; they said he is no more
alive. Did he really stop breathing – but why? Can I stop breathing?
No, not really, since I am not doing it for me to stop now - Yes
breathing is going on. I may be better off using passive voice, as in
scientific papers, in stead of claiming any responsibility for
breathing or polluting the environment around or for any doing even.
Yet, I cannot go and tell any body – Sir, I do not know who is
breathing but breathing seems to be going on. Can you tell me who is
breathing? – He will think I am a nut case.
Let me just sit back and wonder at the beauty of life, why bother
others with my silly questions. Lately these silly questions keep my
mind preoccupied all the time – and getting blanked-out with no
answers. I just wonder at the miracle of life. Just stand apart and
admire that wonderful life since I do not think I do anything anyway.
Wait a minute am I not writing this – I wonder again with questions –
since I seem to have some control on my fingers typing –But I am not
really doing it, am I? If I am not really doing, it is very good
excuse for all the mistakes I commit when I am writing. Something is
illogical here – if I am not writing why do I need even the excuse.
Yet, I wonder my fingers are moving because I am alive – or I am alive
because my fingers are moving. What makes that fingers move- I wonder
It is getting time to go to office, in stead of wasting my time in
these unanswerable questions – my mind complains. I went downstairs to
get a cup of coffee. To my wonder, I saw a row of ants crawling on the
floor. I slowly followed them to see where they are going. These ants
really impress me a lot; recently I am seeing lot of them, because it
may be too hot outside. It is always fascinating for me to watch. I
wonder what the ants think of me – may be they will be wondering why I
am bothering them first thing in the morning. I followed them, anyway.
They are going as if someone has given them some marching orders to go
in a row, following one another. Then I saw some other ants going in
the opposite direction. They seem to have a mission in life. And they
seem to know that too. Then I saw- A fraction of a second an incoming
ant meets the outgoing ant – they seem to communicate something. They
seem to exchange some information, I wish I could hear them; but I
cannot. They must of communicated where to go and what to find, etc.
I followed the line. After some tortuous path I found they are heading
to a piece of sweet that I dropped yesterday night near the sink. How
did they know that there is a piece of sweet there – they seem to come
from far away country, in terms of their scale? I wonder. I was going
to use the sink – But I stopped. I do not want to ruin their dinner –
I had my share and why not they have their share. This has become my
daily dilemma. Still, how did they know that there is a piece of
sweet there? I wonder. I know not what life is, but I am amazed at the
expression of that life.
As I am having my cup of coffee, I look out side the window. I saw big
trees and then there are those rose plants in front of my house. I am
again baffled. Those trees are alive and I see the greenery, birds
flying from one branch to the other. I see small flies going around
from flower to flower. My God – look at that beautiful butterfly
landing on the flower. What a design? Who designed it? I wonder.
Those roses their colors and their smooth texture - beautiful. I do
not want to hurt the flowers but I feel like touching them to admire
how smooth their texture is. I just watered the plants yesterday,
wondering how they are going to survive in this heat, about which
everybody is complaining now a days. People were complaining about the
cold few months back. Now they are complaining about the heat. Are the
roses complaining about the heat? They must be complaining too but I
cannot hear their complaints. May be they don’t – they have learned to
bear whatever that comes without complaining? I wonder why people
complain so much all the time. Who am I to complain about that anyway?
I should at least stop complaining -rose plants seems to teach me that
too. I see a lady going to work. Yes she is beautiful. But she is
walking – she is alive. My God, what a wonder. A bunch of matter
packaged proportionately yet that is moving. I am reminded of
VevekachUDAmaNi sloka – tvak maamsa rudhirah… Oh! That is too gross
even though it says it is gross mater. There is a beauty pulsating in
her and expressing in that form – she must be breathing. I wonder what
is she thinking? Again another sloka is coming to my mind that end –
bhaaryaa bhibhyati tasmin kaaye, even the loving wife will get rid of
that body as soon as possible when the breathing stops.
I am glad I am breathing, of course, my wife is sleeping upstairs.
Some times I wonder what happens when I stop breathing. I am again
reminded of the just quoted sloka. Wait a minute, How can I stop
breathing, when I am not doing it to begin with. My mind starts
complaining again- it is getting late to go to office. Why does it
complain – why it does want to learn from the roses. I still wonder -
what happens when I am no more alive and I see that everybody minding
their own business as usual after shedding few tears here and there
for some time. What happens to my bank balance and all those stocks,
and the loan I made or the money I gave? Who cares when I am not
alive? Am I alive now? I think so since breathing is going on. What is
life anyway? I wonder.
PS. Please excuse my ramblings, but I cannot but stop wondering.
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