In plain words
'See that it does not slip from our hands,' she said. Worldly life itself is an ocean. Our hopes themselves are the waves; our feelings are its depth. In it there are crocodiles and whales called attachment and hatred. For ordinary men, going about in it is hard to bear. 'Your Name alone protects everything,' she said. We think of the Bhakti of the Gopīs as mere natural tendencies: a great mistake. Their minds were not such as would enter into matters like these. The pull of the senses was far, far from them. The fragrance of Parameśvara alone was close to them. They regard this whole universe as the form of Viṣṇu. So if we want to see divinity, we need not go off to some place somewhere. It is only when we turn our sight within that divine Ānanda dawns for us, right there. The Gopīs did not believe at all in the two, saguṇa and nirguṇa; they longed only for the one with form. Without the one with form, the formless is not possible. For us, only the one with form is wanted. Our form must merge in this form. 'That, in our view, is the formless,' they said. For us to forget our own form: that becomes the formless. Keeping our aim on our own form, if we want to see You as formless, is that possible! So we must forget our own form; that is the true formless. To think that divinity is had through dhyāna, or through japa, or through tapas, is only a delusion. These can bring peace only for the moment. If we want lasting Śānti and lasting Ānanda, we must develop the very divine feeling that is in us.
But for that the right atmosphere must be favourable. Such a divine atmosphere comes to us only in a sacred presence. Elsewhere such an opportunity is not had by us. It was for this that in former times those doing tapas went to the forest, sat in a solitary place and developed a divine atmosphere for themselves. Thinking that in the villages we are … our sight and our hearing impure, they went with that kind of weakness. We need not go to the forests. We must recognise the principle of the divine Ātma that dwells in our heart itself. Today, though you go to the forest and sit there, your Buddhi may go off and roam in the town. That is forest; this is for rest. That is your heart. Your Śānti is in you yourself, and not outside. In such a sacred presence, in such an atmosphere, you can develop this Śānti. So, in the tattva of the Avatāras, the easy path, the sweet path and the sweet experiences have shown themselves most of all in the Kṛṣṇa Avatāra alone. That does not mean we should think that all the Avatāras are worthless. They are each as their own time requires.
A small example. Some people come in the bazaar and are fighting. As they fought in a small way, a policeman came.