Wheel of Life, Desire, and True Acceptance: From Ignorance to the Witness State

Question

When we take birth, then because of Nature or the power of Māyā the veil of ignorance gradually gets eradicated—yes? And through that eradication we become established in the Self. This kind of step-by-step growth, a gradual evolution—right?
Okay. Thank you.

Answer

Think of a downward phase like the turning of a car wheel. The part that’s at the bottom will one day rise to the top, and the part that’s at the top will certainly come down. That is what śāpa (curse) and vardān (boon) signify: what is bound to happen. The lower part will surely come up; the upper part will surely go down. That’s the law of the cycle of creation.
So if today we are in ignorance, that isn’t our permanent state. By the law of creation, the wheel turns; slowly we move ahead; slowly that lower part comes up. One day we will certainly come to knowledge. Therefore we should be very hopeful—no one is doomed to remain in ignorance forever. Consciousness rises little by little and reaches knowledge. The consciousness of great souls also rose in the same way.

Question

Does that mean kāmnā (desire) is a prerequisite?

Answer

From reading the Gita we’ve reflected on this often: what we call Paramātma (the Absolute) is not only “auspicious.” The Absolute includes both auspicious and inauspicious. There are thorns as well as flowers. We can’t pull the thorns out of existence and throw them away. In the same way, this creation contains both knowledge and ignorance. We must accept them together.
We accept both—but because the inauspicious, the ignorant state, brings sorrow, we move toward knowledge to get free of sorrow. If ignorance didn’t hurt, we would just keep enjoying it and never move.

Question

Yes, now I understand.

Answer

When a person becomes a Buddha—a knower—he is unaffected by thorns or flowers. “This existence as it is—I accept it fully; it is a manifestation of the Divine.” Then he is not pained by pain, nor elated by pleasure. He abides in an even mood—what we call ānanda (bliss, ecstasy).
Why do we suffer? Because we reject one part of the whole. Desire, as you said, is always present in creation—sometimes manifest, sometimes unmanifest. Knowledge too is sometimes manifest, sometimes hidden. Nothing new ever “comes” here. Today, as we study, the knowledge that was unmanifest begins to manifest—but it was always there. In Kali Yuga knowledge becomes hidden; then, by the Divine, some instruments appear, and that hidden knowledge becomes visible again. Nothing new is added to creation; whatever is, is already here—a blend of knowledge and ignorance.
So our prayer should not be, “O Lord, give me only the auspicious.” If the inauspicious is removed, where would it go? The right prayer is: “Whatever You give, may I accept.”

Question

But then where do we “accept”? If we accept both good and bad and then still prefer the good, that’s not real acceptance—it’s half-hearted. True acceptance, true surrender, would mean asking for nothing—neither good nor bad—receiving whatever comes with a full heart.

Answer

Exactly—“Live as the Divine keeps you.”
We should accept good and bad equally. If we accept one and reject the other, we’re not in the true state. The Buddha-state accepts existence in its totality: “If I have a hut, I accept it. If a storm blows it away, I accept living under the open sky.” That is the state of a wise one.
And what is our ignorant state? “You gave me a hut; now You blew it away—I won’t worship You from tomorrow!”

Question

But then another argument comes: doesn’t this become pure fatalism—a static “whatever happens is fine, Lord” attitude? Wouldn’t we stop striving to improve? What about action and progress?

Answer

You’re right to ask that—but take it in the right perspective. The total acceptance I just described is the state of a Buddha. When we become Buddhas, then we abide there. Until we reach that, while our consciousness is still moving from lower to higher, we must strive. Only by lifting consciousness higher do we become Buddhas. If we don’t lift it, how will we arrive?
So keep the Buddha-state as an inner reference, but meanwhile act. In worldly terms there are two approaches: (1) strive, earn, and improve your material condition; or (2) be content with what you have. Either way, pleasure and pain keep alternating. But beyond pleasure and pain there is a third state: ānanda.
A Buddha abides in ānanda, not in pleasure or pain. We work hard because pain troubles us, so we try to reach pleasure; but we must rise beyond pleasure too. Otherwise the wheel keeps turning—pleasure leads back to pain, and pain to pleasure. We never get out. When we rise beyond pleasure, we step outside the wheel—that is the final state, the state of the wise.

Question

If we go beyond pleasure, we’ll still act—and for the good, right? Won’t we act to attain bliss?

Answer

No—ānanda is not produced by action. It is an inner state. For pleasure you have to do things; for ānanda, you don’t.

Question

But a wise person still performs action. Isn’t there some desire behind action?

Answer

They don’t abandon action. Understand it like this: the body is born and dies—its cycle continues. Do we want to live in that cycle or step out of it? Everyone wants to step out—meaning, to abide in the Self.
Established as “I am the conscious Self—full of peace, love, and joy,” do I stop acting? No. As long as the body is here, action for the maintenance of life continues. The Gita says—even if you renounce social duties—you still must act to keep the body going.
But pleasure and pain no longer arise the same way. You remain a witness—a seer—while the hands and feet work. Like watching a movie from your seat: the film shows joys and sorrows, but you are not entangled. In Self-abidance one becomes the witness; therefore the film of life doesn’t stick to you.

Question

But even watching a movie, we do feel something—we enjoy it and say, “That was great!” Weren’t we engaged at least a little? And in life too we take relish—so aren’t we involved?

Answer

In the world, yes—we often seek worldly pleasure, and we enjoy it. But when we are in knowledge, we see clearly: “This, too, is just a projection—a passing picture.” Today it appears; tomorrow it changes; one day this body itself won’t remain. Knowing this, how much relish do we truly take?
It is ignorance that makes us cling to the picture and taste its joy and grief. The wise tell us, “Brother, it’s just a screen—why are you weeping?” Our situation is like that—we don’t yet see that this, too, is a screen. So the wise say to us: “You are ignorant; this is only a moving image. It will pass.”
Because we are not yet Buddhas, we don’t yet experience it that way.