The Crest-Jewel of Wisdom

by Shankaracharya

  This is the last and final word of the teaching: The Eternal is the individual life and the whole world; rest in the partless One is freedom, in the Eternal, the secondless; and this too the scriptures show.

  Through the word of the Guide, and the evidence of the teaching, understanding the highest Being, through union with the Self, be reached perfect peace, intent on the Self, so that nothing could disturb him any more, resting altogether in the Self.

  Then after intending his mind for a while on the supreme Eternal, rising again from the highest bliss he spoke this word: [480]

  THE PUPIL SPEAKS:

  Entangling thought has fallen away, its activity has dissolved, through mastery of the Self's oneness with the Eternal--I know not this, nor anything that is not this; for what is it? how great is it? joy is its further shore.

  This cannot be spoken by voice, nor thought by mind; I taste the glory of the ocean of the Supreme Eternal, filled full of the ambrosial bliss of the Self. My mind, enjoying delight, like a watercourse, that had dried up, when the multitude of waters come, is full of happiness, even from the slightest portion of the honey-sweet bliss of the Self.

  Whither has this world of sorrow gone? what has taken it away? whither has it dissolved? Now I see that it no longer is--a mighty wonder!

  What is there for me to reject? what to choose? what else exists? Where is there difference in the mighty ocean of the Eternal, full of the nectar of partless bliss?

  I see not, nor hear, nor know aught of this world; for I bear the mark of the Self, whose form is being and bliss.

  Honor, honor to thee, my Guide, mighty-souled; to thee, who art free from sensuous bondage, who art most excellent, whose own nature is the essence of bliss of the secondless Everlasting, whose words are ever a mighty, shoreless ocean of pity.

  As one who was wearied with the heat, bathing himself and refreshed, in the enveloping light of the rayed moon, thus I have in a moment gained the partless excellent bliss, the imperishable word, the Self.

  Rich am I, I have done what was to be done, freed am I from the grasp of the sorrowing world. My own being is everlasting bliss, I am filled full, through the favor of the Self.

  Unbound am I, formless am I, without distinction am I, no longer able to be broken; in perfect peace am I, and endless; I am stainless, immemorial.

  I am neither the doer nor enjoyer; mine are neither change nor act. I am in nature pure awakening. I am the lonely One, august for ever. [490]

  I am apart from the personal self that sees, hears, speaks, acts, and enjoys; everlasting, innermost, without act; the limitless, unbound, perfect Self awakened.

  I am neither this nor that; I am even he who illumines both, the supreme, the pure; for me is neither inner nor outer, for I am the perfect, secondless Eternal.

  The unequalled, beginningless reality is far from the thought of I and thou, of this and that; I am the one essence of everlasting bliss, the real, the secondless Eternal.

  I am the Creator, I am he who makes an end of hell, he who makes an end of all things old; I am the Spirit, I am the Lord; I am partless awakening, the endless witness; for me there is no longer any Lord, no longer I nor mine.

  For I, verily, consist in all beings, enveloping them within and without, through the Self that knows; I myself am at once the enjoyer and all that is to be enjoyed--whatever was seen before as separate--through identity with it.

  In me, the ocean of partless Bliss, world-waves rise manifold, and fall again, through the storm-winds of glamor's magic.

  In me, the material and other worlds are built up by glamor, through swift vibrations; just as in Time which has neither part nor division, are built up the world-periods, the years, the seasons, months, and days.

  Nor does the Self, on which the worlds are built, become stained by them, even through the deluded who are stained by many sins; just as even a mighty flood of mirage waters wets not the salt desert earth.

  Like the ether, I spread throughout the world; like the sun, I am marked by my shining; like the hills, I am everlasting and unmoved; I am like an ocean without shores.

  I am not bound by the body, as the clear sky is not bound by clouds; whence then should the characters of waking, dreaming, dreamlessness, belong to me? [500]

  The veil comes, and, verily, departs again; it alone performs works and enjoys them. It alone wastes away and dies, while I stand like a mighty mountain, forever unmoved.

  Neither forth-going nor return belong to me, whose form is ever one, without division. He who is the one Self, without fissure or separation, perfect like the ether how can he strive or act?

  How should righteousness or sin belong to me, who possess not the powers of sense, who am above emotion, above form and change, who experience ever partless bliss; for the scripture teaches that in the Self is neither righteousness nor sin.

  What is touched by his shadow, whether heat or cold, or foul or fair, touches not at all the man, who is other than his shadow.

  The natures of things beheld touch not the beholder, who is apart from them, sitting above unchanged, as the character of the house affects not the lamp.

  Like the sun which witnesses the act, like the tongued flame that leads the conflagration, like the rope that holds what is raised; thus am I, standing on the summit, the conscious Self.

  I am neither the actor, nor the causer of acts; I am neither he who enjoys, nor he who brings enjoyment; I am neither the seer, nor he who gives sight; I am the unequalled Self, self-luminous.

  When the disguise moves, just as the foolish-minded attribute to the sun the dancing of its reflection on the water, so one thinks: I am the doer, the enjoyer; I, also, am slain.

  Let this inert body move on the waters or on dry land; I am not thereby stained by their natures, as the ether is not stained by the nature of a jar.

  Acting, enjoying, baseness or madness, inertness or bondage or unloosing are the changes of the mind, and belong not really to the Self, the supreme Eternal, the pure, the secondless. [510]

  Let Nature suffer changes ten times, a hundred, a thousand times; what have I to do with these commotions? For the lowering clouds touch not the sky.

  From the unmanifest, down to grossest things, all this world encountered is a mere reflection only. Like the ether, subtle, without beginning or end, is the secondless Eternal; and what that is, I am.

  All-embracing, illumining all things; under all forms all-present, yet outside all; everlasting, pure, unmoved, unchanging, is the secondless Eternal; and what that is, I am.

  Where the differences made by glamor have sunk to final setting, of hidden nature, perceived in secret, the Real, Wisdom, Bliss, and formed of bliss, is the secondless Eternal; and what that is, I am.

  Without act am I, without change, without division, without form; without wavering am I, everlasting am I, resting on naught else, and secondless.

  I am altogether the Self, I am the All; I transcend all; there is none but me. I am pure, partless awakening; I too am unbroken bliss.

  This sovereignty, self -rule, and mighty power, through the goodness of thy pity, power, and might, has been gained by me, my guide, great-souled; honor, honor to thee, and yet again honor.

  In that great dream that glamor makes, in that forest of birth and age and death, I wander wearying; daily stricken by the heat, and haunted by the tiger of selfishness; thou hast saved me, my guide, by waking me out of sleep. [518]

  09. The Perfect Sage

  (Verses 519--548)

  THE PUPIL SPEAKS:

  HONOR to that one Being, wherever it is; honor to the Light which shines through the form of all that is; and to thee king of teachers!

  Beholding him thus paying honor--a pupil full of worth, full of the joy of soul-vision, awakened to reality--that king of instructors, rejoicing in his heart, that mighty souled one, addressed to him this final word:

  THE TEACHER SPEAKS:

  This world is the offspring of the Eternal's thought; thus, verily, the Eternal is
the Real in all things. Behold it thus by the vision of the higher Self, with mind full of peace, in every mode of being. A certain Being, apart from form, is seen everywhere, of those who have eyes to see. Therefore knowers of the Eternal understand that whatever is other than this, is but the sport and workmanship of intellect.

  Who, being wise, and tasting that essence of supreme bliss, would delight any more in things of emptiness? Who desires to look on a painted moon, when the moon, the giver of delight, is shining?

  For through enjoyment of unreal things, there is no contentment at all, nor any getting rid of pain. Therefore contented by enjoying the essence of secondless bliss, stand thou rejoicing, resting on the Self that is true Being.

  Therefore beholding thyself everywhere, and considering thyself as secondless, let the time go by for thee, mighty minded one, rejoicing in the bliss that is thine own.

  And wavering doubt in the Self of partless awakening which wavers not, is but of fancy's building; therefore through the Self which is formed of secondless bliss, entering into lasting peace, adore in silence.

  In the silence is the highest peace, because wavering is the intellect's unreal work; there the knowers of the Eternal, mighty-souled, enjoy unbroken happiness of partless bliss, recognizing the Self as the Eternal.

  There is no higher cause of joy than silence where no mind-pictures dwell; it belongs to him who has understood the Self's own being; who is full of the essence of the bliss of the Self.

  Whether walking or standing, sitting or lying down, or wherever he may be, let the sage dwell according to his will, the wise man finding joy ever within himself.

  No distinctions of place or time, position or space are to be regarded as bringing release from bondage, for the mighty-souled, who has perfectly attained to reality. Of what avail are the rites of religion for one who has attained to wisdom?

  What religious rite will help one to know a jar, without having perceived it? But where there is direct perception, the object is perfectly understood. [530]

  So when there is direct perception, the Self shines forth clearly, without regard to place or time or rites of purification.

  The direct knowledge, that "I am Devadatta," depends on nothing else; and it is precisely thus with the knowledge that "l am the Eternal," in the case of the knower of the Eternal.

  How could the not Self, the mere chaff of unreality, be the illuminer of that through the radiance of which the whole world shines, as through the sun?

  How can the scriptures or laws or traditions, or even all beings, illumine that by which alone they gain their worth?

  This Self, self-illumined, is of unending power, immeasurable, the direct knowledge of all; knowing this, the knower of the Eternal, freed from bondage, most excellent, gains the victory.

  Things of sense neither distress nor elate him beyond measure, nor is he attached to, or repelled by them; in the Self he ever joys, the Self is his rejoicing; altogether contented by the essence of uninterrupted bliss.

  As a child, who is free from hunger and bodily pain, finds delight in play, so the wise man rejoices, free from the sorrow of "I" and "mine."

  His food is what is freely offered, eaten without anxiety or sense of poverty; his drink is the pure water of the streams; he moves where fancy leads him, unconstrained; he sleeps by the river-bank, or in the wood; for his vesture is- one that grows not old or worn; his home is space; his couch, the world; he moves in paths where the beaten road is ended; the wise man, delighting in the supreme Eternal.

  Dwelling in this body as a mere temporary halting-place, he meets the things of sense just as they come, like a child subject to another's will; thus lives the knower of the Self, who shows no outward sign, nor is attached to external things.

  Whether clothed in space alone, or wearing other vestures, or clothed in skins, or in a vesture of thought; like one in trance, or like a child, or like a shade, he walks the earth. [540]

  Withdrawing desire from the things of desire, ever contented in the Self, the sage stands firm through the Self alone.

  Now as a fool, now a wise man; now as a great and wealthy king; now a wanderer, now a sage; now dwelling like a serpent, solitary; now full of honor; now rejected and unknown; thus the sage walks, ever rejoicing in perfect bliss.

  Though without wealth, contented ever; ever rejoicing, though without sensuous enjoyments; though not like others, yet ever seeming as the rest.

  Ever active, though acting not at all; though tasting no experience, yet experiencing all; bodiless, though possessing a body; though limited, yet penetrating all.

  This knower of the Eternal, ever bodiless, things pleasant or painful touch not at all, nor things fair or foul.

  For pleasure and pain, things fair and foul, are for him who is bound by the vestures, who believes them real; but for him whose bonds are broken, for the sage whose Self is real Being, what fruit is fair, or what is foul?

  Just as in an eclipse of the sun, people say, "the sun is darkened," though the sun indeed is not darkened, and they speak ignorantly, knowing not the truth of things.

  Thus verily they behold the most excellent knower of Brahma as though bound to a body, while he is in truth freed for ever from the body, and they are deluded by the mere seeming of the body. [548]

  10. For Ever Free

  (Verses 549--561)

  THE SERPENT'S SLOUGH

  BUT the body he has left, like the cast-off slough of a snake, remains there, moved hither and thither by every wind of life.

  As a tree is carried down by a stream, and stranded on every shallow; so is his body carried along to one sensation after another.

  Through the mind-pictures built up by works already entered on, the body of him who has reached freedom wanders among sensations, like an animal; but the adept himself dwells in silence, looking on, like the center of a wheel, having neither doubts nor desires.

  He no longer engages his powers in things of sense, nor needs to disengage them; for he stands in the character of observer only. He no longer looks at all to the personal reward of his acts; for his heart is full of exultation, drunk with the abounding essence of bliss.

  Leaving the path of things known or unknown, he stands in the Self alone; like a god in presence is this most excellent knower of the Eternal.

  Though still in life, yet ever free; his last aim reached; the most excellent knower of the Eternal, when his disguise falls off, becoming the Eternal, enters into the secondless Eternal.

  Like a mimic, who has worn the disguises of wellbeing and ill, the most excellent knower of the Eternal was Brahma all the time, and no other.

  The body of the sage who has become the Eternal is consumed away, even before it has fallen to the ground--like a fresh leaf withered--by the fire of consciousness.

  The sage who stands in the Eternal, the Self of being, ever full, of the secondless bliss of the Self, has none of the hopes fitted to time and space that make for the formation of a body of skin, and flesh, subject to dissolution.

  Putting off the body is not Freedom, any more than putting away one's staff and waterpot; but getting free from the knots of unwisdom in the heart--that is Freedom, in very deed.

  Whether its leaf fall in a running river, or on holy ground, prepared for sacred rites, what odds does it make to the tree for good or ill?

  Like the loss of a leaf, or a flower, or a fruit, is the loss of the body, or powers, or vital breath, or mind; but the Self itself, ever one's own, formed of bliss, is like the tree and stands.

  The divine saying declares the Self to be the assemblage of all consciousness; the real is the actor, and they speak only of the destruction of the disguise--unwisdom.

  THE SELF ENDURES

  (Verses 562--574)

  Indestructible, verily, is the Self--thus says the scripture of the Self, declaring that it is not destroyed when all its changing vestures are destroyed.

  Stones, and trees, grass, and corn, and straw are consumed by fire, but the earth itself re
mains the same. So the body, powers, life, breath and mind and all things visible, are burned up by the fire of wisdom, leaving the being of the higher Self alone.

  As the darkness, that is its opposite, is melted away in the radiance of the sun, so, indeed, all things visible are melted away in the Eternal.

  As, when the jar is broken, the space in it becomes clear space, so, when the disguises melt away, the Eternal stands as the Eternal and the Self.

  As milk poured in milk, oil in oil, water in water, becomes perfectly one, so the sage who knows the Self becomes one with the Self.

  Thus reaching bodiless purity, mere Being, partless, the being of the Eternal, the sage returns to this world no more.

  He whose forms born of unwisdom are burnt up by knowledge of oneness with the everlasting Self, since he has become the Eternal, how could he, being the Eternal, come to birth again?