Question and answer 4

But when you enquire into the root of this ego-sense that has the shape 'I', all that ever turns up is one thought after another, countless and various. No single separate thought called 'I' appears at all. Isn't that so?

The subject of a sentence, the first case, may or may not appear in it, but every sentence built on the other cases makes sense only by leaning on that first case. In the same way every thought that rises in the Heart makes sense only by leaning on the first modification, the thought 'I' in the form of the intellect that says 'I am the body', which is the ego. The rising of the ego is the cause and the root of the rising of every other thought. So if the ego-shaped sense of self, the root of the illusion-tree called saṃsāra, is destroyed, every other thought is destroyed with it, root and all, like a tree whose root is gone. However many thoughts rise to obstruct the abidance you practise, do not let the mind go their way. Hold it in yourself, whose nature is the Self, and look on like a witness, standing apart: 'What strange things are going on in front of us? Let what happens happen; we shall see.' To grow used to this, that is, never to be made over into the appearances and never to let go of yourself, is the fitting means for ending the mind that takes itself for the body, which is the root of all the obstacles already named. This path, which so easily destroys the ego, may be called devotion, meditation, yoga or knowledge. God is in the Heart as the Self, in the form of 'I'; and the scriptures cry out that thought alone is bondage. So the best discipline is this: by whatever means, fix the mind, which is only the thought 'I', on Him, and remain still, never forgetting Him. This is the final conclusion of the scriptures.

When one enquires into the root of the I-shaped ego-sense (தற்போதம், taṟpōtam), there only ever appear countless different sorts of thoughts, one after another — no single separate thought called 'I' ever appears at all, does it?

Although the nominative — the first case — may or may not itself appear, every sentence built from the other cases is intelligible only by depending on that first case; in just the same way, every thought that arises in the Heart is intelligible only by depending on that first vṛtti called 'I', the ego in the form of the intellect that takes itself for the body. And since the rising of the ego is itself the cause and root of the rising of every other thought, if the ego-formed ego-sense (taṟpōtam) — the root of the illusion-tree called saṃsāra — is destroyed, then, like a tree without a root, all the other thoughts too are destroyed at a stroke. However many thoughts arise as obstacles to the steadfastness one practises, [the means is] not to let the mind run out after them, but to fix it in its own place, the nature of the Self, [and ask]: what are these various strange things happening before us? Let whatever happens happen, we shall see — to grow accustomed to remaining thus, distinct, as if a witness, watching — that is, never letting go of oneself whatever the appearances — this is the fitting means for destroying the mind in the form of body-identification, the root of all the aforesaid obstacles. This same path, which can so easily destroy the ego, may equally be called devotion, meditation, yoga, or knowledge. And since it is precisely as the Self, in the form of the 'I' within the Heart, that God dwells, and since the scriptures insist that thought alone is bondage, the best means is this: having fixed the mind — which is nothing but the thought 'I' — on Him however one can, to remain still, never forgetting Him. This is the final conclusion of the scriptures.