In plain words
We are living in a physical sleep. We are living in a worldly sleep. We are living in the sleep called Ajñāna. That is why we are unable to recognise our own form, Saccidānanda. In your sleep a snake has bitten you. You are crying out over the snake that bit you in your sleep. For the snake that bit you in your sleep, will it be cured if you actually go and put medicine on it? If you are woken from sleep, the pain of the snakebite goes. As long as you stay asleep, the fear of the snake torments you. When you are woken from sleep, there is no fear of a snake. There are no marks of a bite. Today we are living in the sleep called Ajñāna. We are living in the sleep called attachment to the body. We are living in the sleep called attachment to the world. Anityaṃ asukhaṃ lōkaṃ. This is like a sleep. In sleep we are going through pains. What is the medicine for this? What is the remedy? It is only to wake up from the sleep called Ajñāna. All these come along with attachment to the body.
We must go on reducing attachment to the body little by little. Only then will our Ānanda go on growing. However much attachment we reduce, that much Ānanda is gained. Everyone who wishes to experience Ānanda must go on reducing this attachment. Along with attachment, Ahaṅkāra begins. Through positions, or through wealth, or through strength of arm, or through strength of numbers, in some way or other Ahaṅkāra springs up in us. However much we go on growing, so much should attachment and Ahaṅkāra go on shrinking. When the clouds are filled with water, the clouds grow heavy and come down low. When a tree bears fruit in plenty, all its branches bend down. But on what does the man of today depend? If you look closely, a small bird has alighted on a branch. Though the branch sways this way and that, the bird is not afraid in the least. What is the reason? "I have taken refuge in my wings; let the branch sway, let it burn, let it fall, my wings remain safe": with this faith in its wings it is able to sit on the branch. But today man does not have the faith the bird has. On the tree called saṃsāra, when pains and troubles come, he is filled with fear. What is the reason? He has lost self-confidence. It is simply that he has no faith in himself. The bird has faith in its own wings, but man's self-confidence is slipping away. At any little trouble at all, man collapses. At the slightest pains man collapses.