In plain words
When two branches rub against each other, there too fire is born. In the same way, for the fire of Jñāna to arise in us, there must be friction between the Name and the Form. ‘Rām, Rām, Rām, Rām...’ so we must say with our lips, and contemplate the Form in our mind. Only when both of these happen does the fire of Jñāna arise in us. Once this fire of Jñāna has arisen in us, it burns all sins to ashes and takes us close to Divinity.
The Boat That Did Not Move
Once Rādhā and some Gopīs wanted to go to Mathurā and see Kṛṣṇa. One night, without anyone knowing, they went to the river Yamunā, got into a boat and sat down. All night long they plied the oars, remembering the Name of Kṛṣṇa. But when they looked after dawn, the boat was just where it had been the night before; it had not moved forward even an inch. When they looked into the reason, it was tied to a stake. In the same way, if we tie the boat called our life to the stake called saṃsāra and sit there crying, “O God! O God!”, how can we reach God? First we must untie the rope from saṃsāra, and travel on, remembering the Name of Sarveśvara. Only then can this ‘boat’ reach its goal, and very swiftly.
God Is Right Behind His Devotee
Whatever the circumstances, God never forsakes the devotee who thinks of Him with all his heart. Once, to a devotee, God: “I am always right beside you. I am walking along right behind you,” He assured him, so it is said. But a doubt arose in the man whether He was really coming behind him, and when he turned round and looked, God was nowhere to be seen. “O God! Why did You lie to me?” he asked. God smiled: “Silly fellow! I have told no lie at all. It is you who did not understand My words rightly. I said I would be right behind you, did I not! So when you turned round, I too turned along with you. That is why you could not see Me,” He said.