Nature Walk

I found a Swiss couple today willing to split the cost of a guided nature walk in the forest. This was very enjoyable and interesting. After donning special anti-leech socks, we went in, accompanied by Ajesh, from the Manan tribe.

All of the forest guides are recruited from the tribal peoples who have traditionally lived in the area of the park area, as they know the terrain and the wildlife intimately. He was able to give the English or Latin names for everything we asked about. Wild animals are shy, so you don’t often see them. Now the rains have started, all the wild animals move away from the area we were in towards the lake. Elephants need to consume about 350 kilograms of vegetation each per day, so they go where the food is. There had been a tiger sighting a month ago in the area we were in. There are leopards and rarely, black panthers. The tiger may have been coming for the gaur, a kind of bison that is the largest in Asia, weighing up to 1500 kg.

Or maybe he was coming for deer, of which there are three kinds in the park, sambar deer, barking deer and mouse deer. The latter is a tiny creature, among the smallest of the deer family.

We saw frogs and toads (which disguise themselves as leaves), and lots of Nilgiri languirs – a large ape with a long tail, a black face, and a grey beard, as well as frogs and toads, which cleverly disguise themselves as leaves.

The park is full of interesting trees, many of them quite ancient. Bamboo (which is a grass, rather than a tree. Among fruits there are mangoes, jackfruit, and a fruit that resembles a kind of sour grape. There are 20 species of figs, including one called the strangler fig, which has an interesting life story. Birds eat the fruit, leading to the seeds being dropped into trees. During the rainy season, the seeds sprout roots high up in the tree, in any hollow with moisture they can find. These are aerial roots, that then surround the tree.

Years later they spread down into the ground. For a long time the fig will live in intimate embrace with its host tree, till starving it of carbon dioxide and eventually killing it – a process that can take hundreds of years.

Another fig is a spiny but hard creeper, thicker than one’s arm, that you can see shooting upwards to impossible heights.

The largest tree that we saw was the tetrameles – a specimen that was at least several hundred years old. It secures itself with flying buttresses that look like they have been constructed out of concrete, and the girth of its base is simply enormous. Apparently there’s a famous one at Angkor Wat, but the one we saw was in its league.

There are also lots of sandal wood trees, which need to be guarded night and day – dozens of rangers are scattered through the park. A kilo of its wood, said our guide, can fetch 20,000 rupees. Other valuable trees are the rudraksha, with its brain-like seeds and lots of huge old teak trees. Our guide says that there is no problem of deforestation in this area, and the park is well guarded against any kind of poaching (thanks to the budget from our entrance fees). However, climate change is still a problem. In his childhood Ajesh says that he remembers cool winters, and that the streams and brooks would flow with water the whole year, rather than just a few weeks, as is the case today. Tourism and strict government control are mixed blessings; providing organized work for the tribal people through the park foundation; obviating informal guiding of tourists, and raising the prices of basic goods.

Ajesh said that in a high season, he would do the walk we did up to three times a day, but the demand is mostly from foreign tourists. Indian tourists are lazy – they mostly like jeep tours or boat trips. When families come they immediately expect to see wild animals, as if the 350 square kilometer park was just a large zoo. But he said that in recent years there had been a slight change and Indian tourists were beginning to hit some of the trails in the park.

When we came out of the park we pulled off those anti-leech socks that had protected us well, though in the process a couple of leeches still managed to hitch a ride on my exposed skin. You don’t feel any kind of bite, and the leeches are not harmful, but they suck out copious amounts of blood. Afterwards while I was enjoying breakfast in a nearby cafe, one of them was making a meal of me – I looked down to find my foot bloodied as if after a serious injury.

Wadi Haifa / Overland Travel

By a curious coincidence I have come across the name of Wadi Haifa twice in the same day. It’s a town in northern Sudan on the shores of Lake Nasser. I first read of it this morning, while researching the possibility of sea travel from the port of Haifa* in Israel, and then again when reading W. G. Sebald’s novel “The Emigrants”. He mentions a cafe in Manchester under that name.

It used to be possible to travel to Israel/Palestine by sea, but now the only practical way, since overland connections are dodgy, and impossible for Israelis themselves, is to get there by air.

Here in India I met a Swiss couple the other day who had reached here overland, as I did the first time I came to this country. But they had come on a long route that took them through Russia, China and South East Asia. They had been traveling for one year. Whereas I had come (more than 40 years ago) by a much shorter route that took me through Turkey, Iran and Pakistan. I’m not sure how easy that is today.

Quiet time in Kerala

For meals I’m kind of under house arrest, in this rainy and remote location. They bring them to my “cell” twice a day. In the morning it was idli (fermented rice cakes) and vegetable curry; and in the evening I just had a chapatti and a fiery dhal (bean or lentil dish). Admittedly there would be chicken or perhaps fish, if I weren’t vegetarian. I saw the son of the household with a fishing line this morning.

At midday, on my walk, I bought coffee and a cake from a stall on the road. It was a beautiful walk, by the river, passing tea and coffee plantations, waterfalls, in the lush Kerala hill country.

The mosques are the biggest noise makers, in this particular place ( sometimes it’s the temples), blasting out their call to prayer, in a language no one here understands, now at 4:45 a.m. But sometimes I already sleep through it. So many centuries of reminding people, at all hours of the day and night, of their duties and responsibilities, and still there are beggars in the streets, corrupt governments, filth, either visible or unseen, wars, the destruction of the earth. Bas, bikafi, I’ll go back to sleep.

Kids

I always like interactions with kids in India. Met Ameer and Anvar, a couple of boys, probably around 8 years old, on their way to school, , who were so talkative and fluent in English. One of them, in this small Kerala town, is into Spiderman, so he has a Spiderman school bag, shoes and umbrella, “everything Spiderman”. A motorbike passed us, so they commented that wow, that’s a high powered racing bike: “modified”, they said. They go to a tribal government school where they learn Malayalam, Tamil and English. I don’t think they mentioned Hindi, though Modi and the BJP are trying to press schools in every state into teaching it.

In Kerala

There are big differences from place to place in India. Kerala – at least this small town – seems a lot better organized than what I saw in Tiruvannamalai. At night sometimes there, I had to close the shutters, despite the 30+ degree heat, because people burn rubbish in the streets, including plastics, which create dangerous fumes. They burn it because the municipality doesn’t collect it. It doesn’t collect it because the officials are corrupt, and, according to my host there’s questionable arguments, because people there are mostly illiterate, don’t understand anything about health or hygiene and have no idea what cancer is. Whereas here in Kumily, they separate the garbage, collect it every day, fine anybody who tries to burn it, and even smoking in public is a punishable offence. The national park is off-limits to anybody who doesn’t have a permit, and they have eliminated poaching of animals and sandalwood trees by placing guards and CCTV cameras everywhere.

Children

I always like interactions with kids in India. Met Ameer and Anvar, a couple of boys, probably around 8 years old, on their way to school, , who were so talkative and fluent in English. One of them, in this small Kerala town, is into Spiderman, so he has a Spiderman school bag, shoes and umbrella, “everything Spiderman”. A motorbike passed us, so they commented that wow, that’s a high powered racing bike: “modified”, they said. They go to a tribal government school where they learn Malayalam, Tamil and English. I don’t think they mentioned Hindi, though Modi and the BJP are trying to press schools in every state into teaching it.

Spiritual Teachers

I like to think of myself these days as being without a teacher. I’ve decided to find my own way, during the years ahead, to draw my own conclusions, etc. And I realise I have grown a little dull, not just to the lure of teachers, but also somewhat to the magic of life itself. And I think that this dullness set in a long time ago, and was preceded by confusion. When I look back on life I don’t see things with much clarity, but as a confused sequence of events, though the outline is perhaps becoming clearer.

Be that as it may, there have been a few times that I have sensed the magic emanations that we associate with more enlightened beings. The first time was with Swami Vishnudevananda. Though there was always a parallel sense that there was some flaw – maybe ambition, perhaps anger, as well as considerable gullibility. But there was also a sense of purity, deep sincerity, inner strength, devotion to his own teacher, the ability to look at the world from a different perspective than the rest of us, a sense of mission, a sense of his being in and coming from another place. At the time I knew him, I and most of the people who were involved with him were very young. Immature. Deferent. Cult material. It probably irritated him beyond measure to be around people like us, and one could sometimes feel his exasperation, just as we were occasionally exasperated with him.

At the time, I was aware that he was the only teacher that could somehow captivate my attention. His talks, though he would repeat things a thousand times, were full of life, enthusiasm, interest. His voice and its tonality were full of passion and feeling, his facial expressions were animated and rich in their variety and expressivity. He was a real showman, he but also hit you with his sincerity. His laughter was infectious, and his compassion was palpable. Other teachers would be dry and boring. They would speak about spiritual ideas or values but could not bring them home to me.

His behaviour would be unpredictable. I remember one time we managed to get him a valuable slot of a few minutes on Israeli live radio, and instead of using every minute wisely with a focused message that might pull in hard-nosed Israelis, he began with long minutes of vedic chanting. The radio announcer must have been stunned or nonplussed. It wasn’t something you could interrupt, you couldn’t shut him up or just pull away the mic.

When he did speak to the press, I would feel annoyed that often what he said would feel logically inconsistent or misplaced. But then I would find that he had been able to get through to people anyway. His message would reach them in a way that I didn’t anticipate or expect.

When you would say something to him or ask him a question, you might try to predict or imagine his response, but you could be completely off. There was an oracular quality, sometimes, about what he would say.

In a different way, I have been similarly able to respect Thich Nhat Hanh as a teacher. I was never privileged to meet him personally. Only to see him on stages, usually from afar, and, since he would divide his talks between English, French and Vietnamese, sometimes in translation. But if ever a sage expressed his sagacity in every movement, every gesture, every glance – even without any word or movement whatsoever, you feel that that he is expressing wisdom and truth. But when he does speak, his words are brimming with intelligence and compassion.

A senior student of Swami Vishnu who I knew quite well, and who himself seemed to possess almost supernatural power, would say that one of the marks of a sage was that they would be multi-dimensional. They would have somehow that extra dimension that we cannot grasp but can sense. That’s sort of how it is, I guess.

Swami Vishnu, and some others that I have known would say – and I think this has a scriptural source that one of the marks of a true teacher is compassion. The presence of it is usually felt. If this quality is absent, then one should not approach that person for guidance.

Sebald’s prose

A good writer is a good communicator, which requires an eye for detail and a knowledge of what is being described.

“Everyone was plainly already asleep, and it was some time before an aged porter emerged from the depths of the house. He was so doubled over that he cannot have been able to see more than the lower half of anyone standing in front of him. Because of this handicap, no doubt, he had already taken a quick glance at the latecomer outside the glazed door before he crossed the hall, a glance that was the more penetrating for being brief.”

“Just as the winter days I had spent in America three years before had been dark and colourless, so now the earth’s surface, a patchwork of greens, was flooded with light. In the long since abandoned pastures stretching towards the mountains grew clumps of oaks and alders; rectilinear plantations of spruces alternated with irregular stands of birches and aspens, the countless trembling leaves of which had opened only a week or so before; and even on the dark, distant slopes, where pine forests covered the mountainsides, the pale green of larches lit by the evening sun gleamed here and there in the background.”

Dharma as a spiritual practice that can maybe save the planet

Dharma as a spiritual practice that can maybe save the planet

I. Separation and underlying unity

The world, the universe, reality, can be said to exist both in diversity and in unity. In diversity it exists as a conglomeration of separate semi-autonomous parts. These semi-autonomous parts are governed by laws of self-preservation. But ultimately they depend upon and are absorbed back into the underlying unity from which they have arisen. The universe of things is intimately connected – no thing exists independently. It is joined not only by what we think of as physical “laws” that govern the way in which the parts interact with each other (gravity, magnetism, etc.) but also at a deeper level, in that all of these “things” are manifestations of the same underlying field of existence/consciousness. Each “thing” is not a partial but, in its essence, a full expression of the underlying field.1 This underlying field is what gives rise to the universe of things in the first place; the universe depends upon it for its existence.

Wrong vision

As members of this universe of parts we cannot directly comprehend the underlying unity while simultaneously seeing ourselves and the world as autonomous independent beings. We either see the forest or the trees. However, seeing the one without seeing the other makes our vision of the world incomplete and therefore mistaken, and this has consequences for the way that we relate to our fellow beings, for our behaviour in and towards the world.

Our wrong vision of the world is based on:

a. The basic semi-autonomy of every member of the universe, and the inherent instinct of every individual for self-preservation. In humans, as in other creatures, this manifests as basic drives to satisfy hunger, protect oneself from danger, reproduce, etc.2

b. Extensions based on this semi-autonomy. Thinking of ourselves as existing independently, as separate entities, we adhere to responsibilities towards children, parents, our community, etc. and find a necessity to compete against others for our survival. For our survival and well being, we try to gather around us persons and things, which we must then defend.

Our wrong vision of the world leads to:

a. The inability to see the underlying unity (because we are duped by our conception of the world in terms of division and separation).

b. Seeing the world through a filter and prioritizing action. For the sake of convenience we draw a separation between ourselves and the universe, and distinguish the universe into separate parts. Conceptually we draw distinctions between what is important and less important, what is real and what is false, etc. Out of the myriad objects, the myriad interactions between them, and the events and causalities in space and time, we identify what is important to us in terms of our limited world view and the need to defend ourselves and compete. Our wrong vision is therefore self-supporting and self-confirming; our egoistic vision builds upon itself and further conditions us. Our conditioning further blinds us to underlying harmony, unifying love and laws of cooperation upon which the holistic systems of our biosphere depend.

c. Rivalry, conflict, warfare. Whereas the universe actually depends upon an underlying unity and the symbiosis and mutual cooperation of everything that manifests within this unity, an inability to see this unity leads us into competition, rivalry and conflict.

d. Increasing levels of destruction of our biosphere. Whereas the universe depends on the underlying unity and coexistence of everything in it, a world-view that insists on self-autonomy and perceived separation, eventually brings about the destruction of the elements that it needs for its own existence. Whereas a vision of underlying unity enables a self-sustaining harmony, a vision of separation leads to ultimate destruction. Although in an earlier age it was possible to continue without seeing this, in our Anthropocene age, in which the world is becoming unlivable for the creatures that live within it, in which a tenth of all species in currently facing imminent extinction, it is now possible to see the final consequences of our wrong vision and resultant wrong action. We can now understand that without a radical revision of our actions, based on correct vision, we will be unable to continue.

Overcoming wrong vision

Because we see the world as a subject – object reality, in which we, as subject, exist in a world of other beings or things, we are unable to see the unitary whole upon which the perceived world depends. However, not being able to see the unitary whole does not imply that this does not exist. It also does not mean that we are unable to sense its existence, based on all that we see. In the same way, astronomers can predict the existence of an unseen celestial body by measuring its effects upon other bodies that can be seen. Some scientists, based on their observations, have come to the conclusion that the universe is conscious, or constructed of consciousness. Ordinary perception of the world can lead to the understanding that it is controlled by laws that spring from an underlying unity. The more that we learn about nature and our biosphere, the more we understand that it expresses an inherent harmony and equilibrium. Without this, the world would not be able to exist or continue. The biosphere is threatened when these laws are not respected.

The role of mysticism

In an earlier age, it was more difficult to identify the cause of our misery as a consequence of wrong vision. It was less easy to grasp this rationally because the end result, which we can now see clearly, was not so obvious. Such a conclusion was however reached through the intuition of mystics and sages, through meditation and samadhi. Intuited understanding is difficult to conceptualize intellectually or express verbally and, when it is expressed, often leads to contradictory expressions in various theories and schools of thought. This has resulted in the various darshanas of Indian philosophy, various schools of Buddhism, and similarly contradictory expressions among Islamic, Christian and other mystics, etc. There is no consensus on whether reality consists solely of pure consciousness, the void, is in a relationship of subservience to divine will, etc. However, there is an underlying agreement that our everyday perception of the world is in error and that selfish, unprincipled, egoistic behaviour is destructive. There is further consensus that action should be non-selfish, as expressed in the injunction to “love thy neighbour/companion as our self”.

The mystic vision of sages and the founders of the our religions has been expressed variously through scriptures that carry the injunction towards virtuous and altruistic action. If our actions were truly based on these agreements, we would exist in a state of harmony between each other and our world. However, this is not the case.

The mystics who gave expression to these scriptures had an intuited, integral vision. An integral vision, i.e, one that is not simply rational or intellectual, transforms one’s world in such a way as to produce a harmony at all levels of one’s being. It governs our behaviour and informs one’s actions in a way that a merely rational or intellectual understanding fails to do. There is no question of being at odds with one’s vision because any will to act in a way that contradicts it disappears.

From integral vision to religion

When we comprehend a thing rationally or intellectually, or try to obey religious injunctions out of belief, we introduce the possibility of inner conflict. Our conscience may tell us one thing, but our desires and cravings have a life of their own. So either our actions will be imperfect, or we will fail totally. Our actions may result in partial compliance, non-compliance, hypocrisy, lip-service or repressive behaviour that results in mental aberrations or maladies.

Religions, ethical codes, human laws, have largely failed in their mission to keep egoistic behaviour at bay, create peaceful societies, prevent wars, or create a sustainable future for humankind and our fellow creatures.

Self realisation as a way to effect change

Because of the failure of religions to effect real change, some thinkers have come to the conclusion that there will be no real transformation unless individuals can attain to the same integral and intuitive realization as that of the saints and sages and founders of the religions.

There are several problems with this aspiration.

a. It is impractical to hope that, in the conceivable future, a large mass of people will attain an integral vision that comprehends the underlying unity. The obstacles are great, as is proved by the small number of people who have been able to attain this throughout history. Even with good intentions and diligence, it seems that such a true realization is exceedingly uncommon.

b. There appear to be issues with the attainment of the unitary vision itself. Some who have been able to comprehend the underlying unity have afterwards been unable to function in the real world. Traditional brahmanic scriptures themselves have proclaimed that those who attain to the state of nirvikalpa samadhi die quickly.3 Those who do go on living may embrace a monist vision that upholds the underlying unity, while declaring the “world of things” to be unreal and invalid. Whereas previously they were unable to see the forest for the trees, they are now unable to see the trees for the forest. A real transformation of the human condition requires the ability to see the world in its diversity as well as in its underlying unity.4

c. The unitary vision is not a communicable experience at all. This is reflected in the contradictions in the way that the various sages have described or extrapolated from their experience. It is also reflected in the refusal by many sages to discuss their experience. It is therefore not practical to expect that any individual realisation will lead to real change at the level that is required to transform our plight.

d. There is real urgency to our problem. We are creating untenable conditions for our continued existence on the planet. We are destroying our biosphere. We are setting the ground for multiple disasters as competition over basic resources like water, land, food and air will grow acute to the point of open warfare. We are not even aware of the multiple ways in which pollution, destruction of habitat, climate change, depletion of resources, overpopulation, etc. will interact. Although we know that disaster is looming, we are unable to reverse or even mitigate the practices that lead to it. Our failure to act is a result of our wrong vision.

Dharma

The failure of human laws to create a peaceful world and sustainable future

The laws that govern the universe of things are themselves the manifestation of the unitary existence-consciousness that underlies reality. These laws govern the way the manifest universe interacts with itself. They are based both on the need and tendency of the individual for self-preservation and upon the underlying cooperation and bonding between individual and individual within the universal whole. In eastern philosophies there is the view that the universe functions according to an overarching law of dharma, and within it each individual operates according to his own prescribed dharma within this macrocosmic reality.

Our understanding of the laws that govern the universe is imperfect and this imperfect understanding, often first expressed in religious scriptures, lies at the basis of our human laws. In codifying the laws that govern us, we have tried to mimic cosmic laws, both in the attempt to safeguard the rights of the individual and in the attempt to create harmony between individuals, in society and in the world.

Though the law books are the outward expression of our original attempt to mimic laws that govern the universe, we are also guided by a personal moral compass. This is based on learned behaviour with regard to societal norms, codes of morality received through education and an inner voice which we call conscience. Our behaviour is therefore affected by the fear of punishment through our legal systems, by the wish not to transgress societal norms learned through education, and by our inner voice. Yet none of these have been enough to create peace with our neighbours and fellow beings nor a sustainable future for humankind.

Dharma as a training and a sadhana

We cannot, with the best intentions, create a sustainable future while viewing the world through the lens of our egoism. If we obey laws because we fear punishment, or obey unwritten rules based on the fear of being ostracized from our society, or act according to a wish not to feel ashamed of ourselves, we are still acting within the field of our egoism. We cannot transform our relationship with the world unless we are able to transform our wrong vision. Transformation won’t come about through the fear of punishment but only through a positive sense of participation, cooperation, empathy and love. As seen in Buddhism, and sometimes in other paths like yoga, the practice of dharma is a training or a teaching, towards an intuitive and integral understanding of oneness, rather than a cultivation of obedience to ethical prescriptions and injunctions. Practiced in this way, dharma, such as the five precepts (pañcasila) noble eightfold path of the Buddha, or the yamas and niyamas at the basis of Patanjali’s system of raja yoga, becomes a form of sadhana (spiritual discipline).

Dharma as a tool for transformation

The practice of dharmic sadhana gives us the opportunity to change our relationship with our fellow beings and the world from a state of competition to a state of cooperation and equal participation. This depends not only upon good intentions but the acquisition of skills and knowledge. Interaction with our fellow beings is not simply a matter of following what is lawful, socially acceptable or even unconscionable, but a matter of acquiring skills such as nonviolent communication, the ability to listen and interpret the subtle signs expressed by others, as well as empathy. Environmentally sustainable practices requires a knowledge of how to choose the least damaging or most beneficial course of action, based on science, economics, mechanics, and whatever else is relevant to the case. Living as a good citizen of the 21st century requires awareness and knowledge.

The value of following a practice of dharma as a sadhana is that it provides the only response that can be helpful in the critical stage that we have reached. The situation in the world requires immediate action that is based on the acknowledgment of the underlying unity of all things, because our wrong vision of division has created the problem we now face. Dharma means, among other things, the performance of effective action that is based on correct vision. This is exactly what we need, and basically the only thing that can save us.

Conclusion

This article reasons that our view of the universe as divided into separate objects is flawed in that it fails to acknowledge a fundamental unity. It states that it is this wrong vision that has led to the current crisis we are facing. It casts doubt on claims that the situation can be be changed through solely personal transformation and suggests the practice of dharma as a more practical method of tackling our problems and transforming the world. It claims that the practice of dharma is also a sadhana, i.e. a means to gaining an integral understanding that the “world of things” depends upon underlying unity.


  1. purnam adah, purnam idam purnat purnam udachyate; purnasya purnam adaya purnam evavasisyate (Brihadaranyaka Upanisad 5.1.1) ↩︎
  2. It is sometimes stated that our basic instincts themselves correspond to our threefold inner nature (described in philosophies that derive from the Upanisads as existence (sat), knowledge (chit), bliss (ananda): That our desire for self-preservation and long life is an expression of sat. That our unquenchable thirst for knowledge is an expression of chit, and that our unsatisfiable lust for enjoyment is an expression of ananda. ↩︎
  3. Sri Ramakrishna said the one who attains to this state leaves his body after 21 days. (The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna). ↩︎
  4. See “The Eternal and the Individual”, Chapter 3, The Life Divine, by Sri Aurobindo and elsewhere. ↩︎