WE SAW IN the previous issue how Dr. Mohammed Hafiz Syed, a distinguished professor of Persian and Urdu studies at the University of Allahabad, was drawn to Bhagavan in March 1935 after being introduced to Paul Brunton's A Search In Secret India. A visit to the Theosophical Society convention in Madras shortly thereafter, led to a chance encounter with Maurice Frydman, a devotee of Ramana Maharshi, who arranged for Dr. Syed to visit Tiruvannamalai. There, guided by Brunton himself, Dr. Syed met Ramana Maharshi, marking a turning point, shifting his focus from academic pursuits to a transformative spiritual journey.

Dr. Syed's encounter with the Maharshi pushed him beyond his intellectual comfort zones to experience the silent depths of his being. Despite his extensive study of Indian thought and culture, he realized that his fear of death persisted, underscoring the need for deeper, experiential wisdom. We saw how he faced a near- fatal illness at Ramanasramam early on, during which Bhagavan visited him in his quarters and fed him upma. Bhagavan's solicitude and care profoundly impacted him. On another visit, when Dr. Syed inquired about the purpose of creation, Bhagavan likened creation to a mirror for the self to see itself and emphasized self- inquiry and self-surrender as the path to liberation.

Dr. Syed wrote:
What he did for us we cannot convey in words. His invisible gaze silently, unobtrusively transformed the lives of men and women, who, by virtue of their past good deeds, had gathered around him waiting for his benign glance and paternal guidance. All his great work for the betterment of mankind was done invisibly and silently. His silence was more eloquent, effective, and far reaching than the sermons of any number of teachers put together. There was nothing wanting in him. His grace was ever ready for us. All that we had to do was to qualify ourselves by our self-effort and self-purification to be worthy of his care. The well-known maxim, "God helps those who help themselves" holds good more in the case of devotees than of others. We must raise ourselves to his level of requirements. ¹

Before arriving at the Ashram, Dr. Syed spent decades in the university environment where logic, rationality and academic reflection dominated, and religious themes were not given much credence. He was drawn to the no- nonsense, matter-of-fact manner of the Maharshi:

A sceptic, an agnostic or an unbeliever would often come to Bhagavan with an open mind, with a genuine desire to understand what the inner life was and to know what truth really meant. It may be said without hesitation that his visit to Maharshi never proved fruitless. What the modern world wants is proof and demonstration. That proof was present in the life of this great sage who was in our midst to dispel the darkness of ignorance and to restore the eternal light which alone can grant us the peace and happiness that the world so badly needs.  ²

After Dr. Syed's initial visits, circumstances prevented him from returning for three years. However, from 1943, he determined to visit regularly, never letting a year pass without coming to Bhagavan. By 1947, following his complete retirement, he and his wife built a bungalow near the Ashram in Ramana Nagar and came to live in Tiruvannamalai on a semi-permanent basis. ³ This allowed him to see Bhagavan daily:

Of such wisdom is Sage Sri Ramana, who embodies in himself, the Truth that is beyond time and space, who stands supreme in the realm of spiritual attainment, and who is the true benefactor of the whole of the human race. In him we see that glorious Realization which at once includes and transcends all religions through the Revelation that the only true Religion is the Religion of the heart. His teachings give only [to] he who has ceased to love the world the clearest expression to that one, inexpressible, universal, spiritual experience, seeking which every earnest aspirant treads the path of inward spiritual development. To such an aspirant the Maharishi's teachings are a revelation of that Truth Eternal which ever abides as one and identical with himself.  ⁴

When anyone in Gandhiji's circle felt depressed or confused, the Mahatma used to say, "Go to Ramanasramam and come back after a month's stay there." Shankerlal , Rajendra Prasad or Jamnalal Bajaj would come to stay with Bhagavan. During one of these visits in the summer of 1937, Shankarlal Banker brought pictures of famine-stricken people in Tirupur and was distressed by the talk of Self-realization amidst such suffering. Dr. Syed placed the pictures in Bhagavan's lap and relayed Banker's concern" Bhagavan replied gently that while all efforts should be made to help those in distress, individual credit should not be claimed for such efforts. The Lord alone is the saviour of the people. Maharshi noted that he often saw people who had not eaten for days but seemed to glow with inner joy which only the Almighty could give.

When Shankarlal retrieved the snapshots and looked at them again, he observed what he had not noticed before. The poor starving people engaged in breaking stones in Tirupur seemed to have smiles on their faces. For Shankarlal it was a revelation.⁵
On another occasion, Dr. Syed asked about spiritual practices and Bhagavan provided profound insights. When asked if he should meditate on the right side of the chest to meditate on the Heart, Bhagavan clarified that the Heart is "not physical" and "meditation should not be focused on the right or the left but on the Self." ⁶ On another occasion, Dr. Syed asked if he should meditate with the words 'I am Brahman.' Bhagavan replied, Aham is known to everyone. Brahman abides as Aham in everyone. Find out the 'I'. The 'I' is already Brahman. You need not think so. Simply find out who
the 'I' is."⁷

Dr. Syed continued, "Is not discarding the sheaths mentioned in the sastras?" Bhagavan replied, "After the rise of the 'I-thought' there is the false identification of the 'I' with the body, the senses, the mind, etc. 'I' is wrongly associated with them and the true 'I' is lost sight of. To shift the pure 'I' from the contaminated 'I' this discarding is mentioned. But it does not mean exactly discarding of the non-self, rather it means the finding of the real Self. The real Self is the Infinite 'I-I' and is eternal. It has no origin and no end. The other 'I' is born and dies, is impermanent. See to whom are appearing changing thoughts. They will be found to arise after the 'I-thought'. Hold the 'I-thought' and they will subside. Trace back the source of the 'I-thought' and the Self alone will remain." ⁸ On another day, Dr. Syed quoted a Persian mystic who said, "There is nothing but God," and the Quran which says, "God is immanent in all." Bhagavan replied, "There is no 'all', apart from God, for Him to pervade. He alone IS." ⁹

In October, 1936 Dr. Syed asked, "Bhagavan says that the Heart is the Self. Psychology has it that malice, envy, jealousy, and all the passions have their seat in the heart. How are these two statements to be reconciled?" Bhagavan said, "The whole cosmos is contained in one pinhole in the Heart. These passions are part of the cosmos. They are avidya (ignorance)"¹⁰. On another day, the professor spoke up in the hall: "I am covered by maya. How to be free from it?" Bhagavan asked, "Who is covered by maya? Who wants to be free?" Dr. Syed said, "Master, being asked 'Who?', I know that it is ignorant me, composed of the senses, mind and body. I tried this enquiry 'Who?' after reading Paul Brunton's book. Three or four times I was feeling elated, and the elation lasted sometime and faded away. How to be established in 'I'? Please give me the clue and help me." Bhagavan then said, "That which appears anew must also disappear in due course." "Please tell me the method of reaching the eternal Truth." To which Bhagavan responded, "You are That. Can you ever remain apart from the Self? To be yourself requires no effort since you are always That."¹¹

In the late 1940s after long years since his first visit, Dr. Syed complained of not being able to make progress, and sought Bhagavan's guidance: "Bhagavan, even though you have shown me all forms of of sadhana, I am unable to gain strength in spiritual experience. You must give me strength, otherwise how can I get it?" Bhagavan said, "You must get it by sadhana only. Who can help you in the matter?" Dr. Syed: "Who else but Bhagavan? I do not want another Guru. It is enough if you promise me that you will help me." Bhagavan appeared to be visibly affected. He looked at Dr. Syed, kindly smiled, placed his hand on his own cheek in his characteristic pose, leaned against the pillow and fell silent. "What, Bhagavan?" said Dr. Syed again. Bhagavan merely nodded his head and kept quiet. Dr. Syed took this as the Maharshi's blessing and assent and was satisfied.¹²

Darshan hall discussions did not always centre on high philosophy or the subtleties of practice but were sometimes casual or even light-hearted. One March morning in 1946 Arthur Osborne related the following story from home:

Bhagavan, yesterday evening Nuna (Osborne's four-year-old daughter) told us, "Dr. Syed is my best friend in the world." Thereupon we asked her, "What about Bhagavan?" She replied, "Bhagavan is not in the world."

Bhagavan was surprised at the child's remark and his finger involuntarily rose to his nose and, holding it there, he said, "What a sage remark for a child. Even great men cannot understand what it means. They ought to have asked her, 'Where else is Bhagavan, if not in the world'?"

Thereupon Osborne said, "Yes. We did ask her. She said, 'Bhagavan is out of the world.'" ¹³

In December 1945, Devaraja Mudaliar reported that Dr. Syed's article, 'The Maharshi who transforms man's life' (Sunday Herald 16th Dec 1945) was read out in the hall. Dr. Syed mentioned that the title he had given them was 'Ramana Maharshi's invisible work,' but the editor changed it. Bhagavan perused another article by Dr. Syed on the significance of Mohurrum which appeared in Free India the same day. A day or so after this, Devaraja Mudaliar commented on Dr. Syed and his wife going around the Hill in pradakshina with Bhagavan's blessing:

Dr. Syed is elderly and has various ailments which render it very difficult for him to go round the Hill. However, as he found that Bhagavan sets great store by his disciples going round the Hill, he and his wife decided to try it about a month back. They took Bhagavan's permission and went round and came back without any difficulty or untoward incident. Today again they both came to Bhagavan and took permission to go round the Hill. Bhagavan used to say that if one went round the Hill once or twice, the Hill itself would draw one to go round it again. I have found it true. Now this is happening to Dr. Syed.  ¹⁴

Settling in Tiruvannamalai

In the mid-1940s, the Syeds built a house with guest rooms and a compound wall. Known for their hospitality, the couple regularly offered simple but adequate accommodation to Bhagavan's devotees. Sujata Sen sometimes stayed there. When Thelma Rappold came in 1948, she was graciously given a room in the Syed compound. Her journal entries for March 1948 give an idea of life at the Syed house:

The new quarters at Dr. Syed's could hardly be put in the same category as the Ritz, but they are reasonably comfortable. There is a rope cot, a small table and a chair and even an electric light in the larger of the two rooms. The combination kitchen and bath didn't fare so well, however, it has only a single wooden plank for an all-purpose shelf. But Mrs. Syed is very accommodating and helpful and has even offered to teach me Hindi. ¹⁵

One day Thelma bought some trinkets for Shakur, Mrs. Syed's little servant boy:
In the package was a police whistle, a blue plastic harmonica, a yo-yo, a razor, and some lollipops. Shakur was on hand when the package was being opened. I have never seen anyone so excited, though he never dreamed that most of them were for him. Mrs. Syed said nobody had ever given him such nice things before. He keeps them on his person most of the time. It isn't difficult to tell where he is now, because whenever he has one hand free, he is either blowing the whistle or playing the harmonica. I have seen him on several occasions come out of the kitchen with a pot in one hand and the harmonica in the other. ¹⁶

In 1947, an event took place that impacted the Syeds very deeply. Mrs. Syed felt a strong desire to invite Bhagavan to their home for dinner. She prayed fervently and urged her husband to ask Bhagavan, but he never found the courage. Eventually, one day as Bhagavan began his walk up the Hill, the couple approached him with their request. Bhagavan only laughed and continued his walk. At home, they blamed each other for their failure and Dr. Syed finally said, "The truth is your devotion is lacking. That's why Bhagavan refused." This remark stung her deeply and Mrs. Syed prayed late into the night hoping to win Bhagavan's assent. Early in the morning she fell asleep and had a dream where Bhagavan explained why he couldn't accept the invitation:

How can I leave the Ashram and come to your house for food? I must dine with others, or they won't eat. People from distant places come to see me and to have food with me. How can I abandon these guests? Feed three of my devotees and it will be the same as feeding me. I will be fully satisfied.

In her dream, Bhagavan revealed the three devotees: Dr. Melkote, Swami Prabuddhananda and Krishna Bhikshu. When Mrs. Syed shared her dream with her husband, Dr. Syed invited the three to dinner. They hesitantly accepted, privately discussing their reservations, particularly the social convention that Brahmins should not eat in a Muslim household. However, Dr. Melkote treated the words spoken by Bhagavan in Mrs. Syed's dream as having come directly from Bhagavan's own lips. Even if Bhagavan had not detailed who the three devotees should be, the goodly doctor accepted on faith that it was Bhagavan who had set it upon Mrs. Syed's heart who the three should be. Thus, he argued, they could not refuse. The others conceded but were cautious about letting others know of the plan.

The next day when the dinner bell rang, the three made their pranams before Bhagavan who did not question them on their departure. Equally odd was the fact that on their way out just before the Ashram dinner was to be served, Chinnaswami made no inquiry as they left. At the Syed's home, fears were allayed upon seeing the clean house and tasting Mrs. Syed's delicious food, prepared with pure devotion to Bhagavan.

After the meal, Mrs. Syed offered each of them betel leaves, an honour typically reserved for her husband or a fakir in a Muslim household. The three then understood they were seen as fakirs in her eyes, representing the Maharshi.

Returning to the Ashram, they were amazed no one noticed their absence or questioned them about it. Reflecting on it, Krishnayya remarked, "How wonderfully does Bhagavan protect those who obey him!" ¹⁷

Mahanirvana
In 1949, Bhagavan was diagnosed with cancer, and a few surgeries were performed. The professor narrates:

I was present during his final illness and saw him undergoing an operation for sarcoma without any sigh, shriek or anaesthetic. The doctors were amazed at his composure and an unheard-of peace of mind. During his illness he was so considerate and thoughtful of the feelings of others that, despite his intense suffering, he did not deprive anyone of the privilege of having his darshan. His sense of humanity was as great as his sense of spirituality. Once, during one of his birthday celebrations, I read out an article in the hall that contained the statement, 'The more a person is spiritual, the more he is human'. I asked about this, and he agreed that it was true. The sight of suffering, or a mere tale of it, touched his heart. I invariably noticed during my close contact with him that he was indifferent to his body, as he believed that it was transitory. The real in him, and in others, was beyond any change. ¹⁸

Following Bhagavan's Mahanirvana, Dr. Syed wrote a series of articles for The Call Divine reflecting on the many gifts he had received from the Maharshi. Dr. Syed wrote:
His plain, simple and unsophisticated philosophy vividly reflected in his day-to-day conduct serves as a key to unlock the mystery of life and solves in a practical way some of the complicated social, political, religious and economic problems that confront us today…The Maharshi never expected anyone to pin their faith in any particular scripture, or practise any sadhana, or repeat any mantra. All he expected of us was to closely and critically analyse the content of our own being, to discover what we really were to see if there was anything in us which survived the decay of our bodily frame. His words went straight to the heart because he lived what he taught. His grace was ready for those who were ready for it; in other words, those who had made themselves fit recipients of his grace. The dominating feature of his philosophy was the unity of life, the oneness of the divine essence which is the indwelling Self of all.  ¹⁹

(to be continued)

IN THE LAST segment, we explored what hinders us from achieving simplicity, self-emptying and the inner silence Bhagavan so cherished. We saw how the psychology of lack, scarcity thinking, and the sense of inadequacy relate to what we called the 'black bag'. The black bag symbolises the walled-off heart and the neglected parts of us that sit dormant within, born of the fear of facing our inner shadows. Bhagavan's inquiry involves acknowledging these less flattering qualities, contrasting them with a life focused on external acquisitions to mask the black bag's contents. The black bag is born of clinging. But why do we cling to darkness? Because we believe it to be our true self. If the black bag is mine and me, then clinging to it becomes an unconscious reflex. Bhagavan responds:

The mighty hero who has renounced possessiveness, the sense of 'mine', the painful path of greed, proceeds through self-enquiry to destroy utterly the 'I', the ego, and thus, at one stroke, gains the fruit of every noble dharma. ¹

In Part II, we discussed self-emptying and relinquishing defence mechanisms in order to face our pain. Self-emptying is akin to exile, a spiritual and psychological no-man's land where the seeker sheds former identifications and finds him or herself stripped clean, venturing into unknown realms. It requires truthful self-assessment and the courage to take the next critical step, resolving situational tensions and moving towards the Self. If suffering has made many a saint, as has been said, it is because nothing heals our narcissism more readily than confronting the unfelt pain within the black bag. Selfish concerns are replaced by a more meaningful whole which includes the Divine. Self-emptying is a forbidding path and seems to have no clear direction. A 9th-century Irish theologian once wrote:

We do not know what God is. God Himself does not know what He is because He is not any thing, not any created thing, because He transcends being.²

If recoiling from mental pain is the source of the black bag, samskaras seem difficult to get at. Tradition tells us that whatever comes to us woven in the pattern of our destiny, born of past actions, cannot be avoided but must be faced. The path to self-emptying means going through (and not around) the black bag. Fortunately, samskaras can be worked through, as the spiritual traditions have always promised.

So why not discard the black bag altogether? The problem is our Heart lies at its centre, buried under layers of unresolved issues. If the black bag is born of the impulse to be rid of what we do not like in ourselves and what we do not want to face, it is the source of egoic idealisation and reflects karmic accretions, vasanas, and past wounds.

The black bag is related to the form-world, which includes the body and the mind. The Heart, which Bhagavan calls the Self, is formless and free of karmic accumulations. Reaching it requires dealing with what occludes it. Bhagavan said:

Whoso has known this Heart will never suffer pain or think of bondage or duality. ³

The saying "What is in the way, is the way" means that what we seek to escape must be faced and integrated. Bhagavan's inquiry, involves therapeutically approaching the contents of the black bag, accepting them no matter how disagreeable they may appear.

In the last segment, we listed the black bag's contents—insults, rebukes, humiliations, disappoint-ments, losses, betrayals, harsh treatment—but did not mention unconscious wounds from early life. These wounds, formed under adverse conditions, can significantly impede us. We were separated from our mother in the first weeks or months of life, or tragedy struck the family home, or there were financial stresses, or health issues, or some natural calamity, or civil unrest, or there were undue demands and pressures made on the family during our critical first years or, for whatever reason, healthy bonding with the primary caregiver(s) was hindered. In the digital era, the probability of an infant's needs becoming secondary has increased considerably due to the pace and complexity of life, and the demands made on caregivers.

Neuropsychologists talk of implicit or emotional memory⁴ , where events occurring at a pre-verbal age are mostly inaccessible through the ordinary conscious mind. Painful emotional memories from early life can trigger intense anxiety in adulthood with no conscious recollection of their historical precedents. Unbidden intense emotionality coupled with the mystery about its origins born of their occurring outside the framework of human language can trigger doubt, worry, and anxiety about the past and lead the sufferer to question themselves^5. Implicit memories manifest through emotional responses or bodily sensations rather than conscious thought,⁶ causing us to imagine they are primary and speak to our truest origins. This may be the first impulse to stuff things into the black bag, due to the lack of any conscious recall about distressing early life events. This might explain the negative self-image and low self-esteem typical of those suffering early life wounds and why they might hide these wounds from others, pretending they are not there and then feel guilty for concealing them. This is one of the roots of psychic fragmentation which in traditional spiritual language is called the ego.

If the black bag symbolizes the disconnection between thoughts, identity, consciousness, and memory, allowing us to distance ourselves from distressing experiences, it represents a form of delusion where the mind tricks itself into ignoring distressing material. Strategic and transactional, splitting-off⁷ from distressing psychological experiences is a temporary reprieve but comes at the cost of a cohesive understanding of oneself and one's environment. Such an impulse leads us to take refuge in worldly things and neglect the Heart within. Bhagavan comments:

For those whose minds are constantly expanding, clinging to external objects, factors will always arise causing increasing bondage. If the outward‑ wandering mind is turned inwards to stay in its natural state, know that one will not undergo any suffering in the world.⁸

Mother and Nutriment
Early life experience centres on the mother. Her well-being and state of mind during infancy are crucial because early child development is primarily mediated through her influence. Nutriment for early development includes not just the mother's milk and food but also her gaze, touch, words, and affection. The importance of her contact is immense, as the infant's brain growth quite literally depends on her abiding love. Studies have shown that an infant can die when completely neglected by primary caregivers. ⁹
Though we cannot recall womb experiences, such experiences are encoded implicitly. The sound of the mother's voice can be heard from within, and the prenatal child relishes in the intrauterine bliss, dependent on protection from the harsh exterior world. This is not just a pleasant sensation but a requisite condition for survival. The drive for attachment, established in the womb, is a fundamental mammalian instinct extending beyond infancy. In humans, it manifests as the incentive to seek relationships, companionship, and community throughout life.
Neurobiology shows that endorphins play a key role in bonding with the mother and significantly influence the feeling of connection. When endorphins in the brain bind to opiate receptors, they induce sensations of emotional connection, reinforcing the social bonds vital for human thriving. However, this biochemical interaction also makes the brain susceptible to compulsiveness. Substances like morphine mimic natural endorphins, and addictive behaviours like excessive cell phone use involve binding to the same receptors, producing feelings of well-being. This biochemical similarity explains the difficulty in avoiding compulsive behaviours, which include perpetually stuffing uncomfortable emotional content into the black bag. Understanding the link between natural bonding and addiction sheds light on the complexity of compulsiveness and egoic entrenchment. Compulsiveness does not necessarily represent a moral failing or lack of willpower, but a profound misdirection of the brain's natural functions born of early life samskaras. Early life maternal separation wounds, widespread in the 21st century, predispose individuals to compulsive behaviours and addiction.¹⁰

One of our compulsions is seeking to make an impression on our peers. Cut off as we are from ourselves due to the disconnect with the true Heart, we seek to validate the made-up self through performance. This is what gives rise to attention seeking behaviours and the need to be seen by others.
Compulsive thinking is born of a similar inclination, namely, to draw private attention to the improvised self through the parade of mentation within, a fanfare crafted to enliven and animate the dead small self.

All such maladaptive incentives seek to address early life wounding, a salve for the displaced nutriment of the mother and the never fully formed endorphin response in early life. Compulsive thinking is used to compensate for painful internal experiences from past wounds. Contemporary seekers very often attempt to avoid dealing with such wounds, namely, the fragmentation of the black bag and its discomforts, because such work is messy and uncomfortable. Instead, they opt for shortcuts to reach the Self. But the only true shortcut is the long way around, as has been said.¹¹ What is the long way around? It is enquiring into the one who would opt for the shortcut.

Bhagavan tells us that inquiry is the true shortcut. However, it leads us through the very territory we were hoping to avoid, namely, the fragmentation of the black bag. Avoidance keeps the black bag sealed and hidden from view. Bhagavan provides an antidote:

How to make the mind, which now looks painfully at forms and features there without, turn inward? By asking who this 'I' is which sees this trivial world and thus directs it towards the Self. ¹²

To become zero, you must become one, a Theravadin saying goes.. Psychic fragmentation is exhausting and interferes with the inquiry process. Pretending there is no such fragmentation cannot help us clean up the unresolved karmic residues enfolding the Heart. Integration, or becoming one, means clearing the path that leads to the Heart. As psychic fragmentation begins to dissipate so too does the entrenchment of the separate self.

No matter how much we try to keep its contents hidden, the black bag is not airtight. The discomfort leaks out and colours present moment conditions with the disquiet from within. Dissociative mechanisms wrestle them back into the black bag but the condition is tenuous.
Here we discover what keeps us from sorting through the black bag in the first place, namely, ignorance. We habitually cover the black bag with external stimulation to stave off discomfort but in the process, cut ourselves off from the Heart.

Bhagavan's inquiry poses a problem for the black bag because inquiry is designed to upset the status quo. The saying, pain is inevitable, suffering is optional, means there is no getting around the problem of the black bag. If we heed the religious traditions and the wise recommendations of Bhagavan and take up the work of purifying the Heart and emptying the black bag, there will no longer be any need to suffer, even if life still brings its challenges. Neglecting the black bag obstructs the spiritual eye, leaving us bereft of clear seeing. We seek to come free of the quandary but maintain the status quo out of habit.
Bhagavan comments:

The dreamer sunk in ignorance feels lost, helpless in some dreary desert and seeks and seeks and finds at last his own hometown and wakes up happy. Such waking is attaining moksha after much suffering in samsara. ¹³

Emptying the black bag means regulating our indulgence in the sense realm, ever aware of how we are using external stimulus to cover over inner distresses. In the spirit of inquiry, we experiment with watching the way we reach for our cell phones when we are visited by an uncomfortable thought or feeling state. We experiment with becoming intimate with whatever life brings us moment by moment.

Suffering is the Way
In late November 1935, Swami Yogananda, the founder of the Self-Realization Fellowship which would eventually introduce millions to meditation, visited the Ashram with four of his followers. Following Bhagavan's response to an inquiry from the Swami's secretary, Mr. C. R. Wright, Swami Yogananda asked the following question:

"Why does God permit suffering in the world? Should He not with His omnipotence do away with it at one stroke and ordain the universal realisation of God?" Bhagavan replied, "Suffering is the way for the Realisation of God." The questioner then asked, "Should He not ordain differently?" Bhagavan simply added, "[Suffering] is the way.¹⁴

This reply may strike the reader as odd, but Bhagavan is not suggesting we go looking for suffering, much less try and create it. Daily living brings its fair share. But if we are slow to get in touch with it, it is because for a very long time, we have filled in the layers of our suffering with stimulation and distraction.

Three years later, another devotee in the darshan hall asked the same question: "But why should there be suffering?" Bhagavan replied, "If there were no suffering how could the desire to be happy arise? If that desire did not arise how would the Quest for the Self be successful?" "Then is all suffering good?" the questioner begged. "Quite so" said Bhagavan, "What is happiness? Is it a healthy and handsome body, timely meals, and the like? Even an emperor has troubles without end though he may be healthy. So, all suffering is due to the false I-am-the-body notion. Getting rid of it is Jnanam."¹⁵

Here Bhagavan is nudging us toward what in the 21st century is called emotional intelligence. Maintaining an even-keeled presence of mind throughout the day is an elevated form of wisdom and entails a clear perception of the present moment and its broader implications. Honing skills such as empathy and self-regulation, and cultivating social competence enables us to navigate our world with greater ease. We learn to process the contents of the black bag and integrate the vexations of daily life into a coherent narrative that informs and enriches our experience.

Self-emptying through Inquiry
A 20th century German poet said, Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.¹⁶

In other words, give yourself over to the fear of letting things be as they are. Give up the commitment to stave off discomfort and instead, deal with it as it arises. Here we uncover a most curious paradox: when we accept ourselves just as we are, we are then enabled to change.¹⁷

Part of accepting ourselves as we are is letting go of our narcissistic regret. When we find ourselves obsessed with past wrongs, we may think this is a genuine expression of humility. But narcissistic regret is not true remorse but a clever effort to divert our attention and obtain comfort by confessing what is not a true fault. Our true shortcoming, the one we do not want to deal with, is our neglect of the black bag.

We recall a line from the Taittiriya Upanishad:

He who knows the joy of Brahman, which words cannot express and the mind cannot reach, is free from fear. He is not distressed by the thought, "Why did I not do what is right? Why did I do what is wrong?" Whoever knows the joy of Brahman is free of these thoughts.

As inquiry deepens, layers of unresolved emotion get exposed, and we can find ourselves overwhelmed by discomfort. If our observations become emotionally charged or fraught with grief, self-emptying demands that we be present to the raw emotion as it emerges in our meditation practice. We allow heartache to surface and learn to sit with what is burdensome, neither indulging it nor rejecting it.

We avoid habitual thought-streams and gently bring our awareness back to the contents of the black bag, overriding the tendency to rumination. We learn to face each changing life condition, seeing it as it is. We discover that our vulnerabilities are portals to freedom, and that if we surrender to them, all will be well by God's grace. —

(to be continued)

• 1 'Maharshi Ramana's Challenge To Materialism', The Call Di- vine, vol. 9, pp. 80-85.
• 2 Ibid., p. 84.
• 3 The Call Divine, vol 3, pp. 179-182.
• 4 'Ramana Maharishi's Spiritual Philosophy of Life' in The Call Divine, 1st Jan 1962, p. 195.
  
• 5 Arunachala Ramana, Ocean of Grace, vol. 3, pp. 46-47.
  
• 6 Talks §273.
• 7 Talks §266.
• 8 Talks §266.
• 9 Talks §268.
• 10 Talks §266.
• 11 Talks §123.
• 12 Letters, 25th March, 1949
• 13 Day by Day (1-3-46 Morning). Also see Ramana Maharshi and the Path of Self-Knowledge page 195.
• 14Day by Day (17-12-45, 19-12-45)
• 14Wandering through India, Thelma Rappold, unpublished manuscript.
• 14Ibid.
• 14Adapted from Ramana Smrti, pp. 184-185.
• 14The Call Divine, vol. 3, pp. 180-181.
• 14Arunachala Ramana, Ocean of Grace, vol. 4, p. 21.

• 1 Guru Vachaka Kovai §850. While the words above are not strictly speaking Bhagavan's own, this great poetic work of Sri Muruga- nar is revered by devotees as a faithful rendering and restatement of Bhagavan's teachings from the hall.
• 2 John Scotus Erigena, meaning 'John, the Irish-born Gael', was a neo-Platonist and author of The Division of Nature.
• 3 GVK §260
• 4 Or pre-cortical memory.
• 5Implicit memories are formed when an infant's brain is still devel- oping the structures necessary for explicit, declarative memory such as the hippocampus and prefrontal cortex, neuropsychologists tell us.
• 6 Unlike explicit memories, which involve conscious recollection of facts and events, experts tells us that implicit memories are stored in subcortical brain structures, like the amygdala and the basal ganglia, areas responsible for emotional processing and motor skills.
• 7 Dissociation is the correct term and profoundly limits our abil­ity to integrate experiences meaningfully.
• 8Devikalottara §18 from Collected Works, p. 175.
• 9 Interestingly, the words 'mother' and 'matter' both derive from the Latin root mater, meaning 'mother' and symbolizing origin. 'Matter,' referring to physical substance, also comes from mater, emphasizing the material world as giving substance and form. This connection highlights the mother as the origin and sustain­er, mirroring how matter forms the basis of the physical world.
• 10This section is gleaned from Dr. Gabor Mate's In the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts, chapter 14, and from segments of his recent book, The Myth of Normal, as well as from various public talks on YouTube
• 11 GVK §29.
• 11 GVK §565.
• 13GVK §565.
• 14Talks §107.
• 16Talks §633.
• 16 Rainer Maria Rilke, "Go to the Limits of Your Longing".
• 17 Carl Rogers, On Becoming a Person, chapter 41.

• 1 Geologishe Rundschau, vol. 87, 3(1998), pp. 268-82.