Your Yoga. One Way to Master the Mind.

One Way to Master the Mind

Once a Traveller came to a forgotten Temple far away in the mountains. Inside were rare jewels, but a large, hungry dog guarded the entrance. The Traveller was afraid to enter and take the jewels. So he threw the dog flatbreads made with milk, and while it ate, he entered the ancient Temple and took jewel after jewel.
The dog is the human mind; the Temple is Creation; the jewels are our infinite possibilities; the Traveller is Consciousness. Our mind does not let us reach our depths and our unlimited abilities. But it becomes calm if we know the method. (Parables of Om Shanti)

You have probably experienced this more than once: you want to do something, but somewhere along the way your mind says, “I cannot do this. I am tired.” Or you decide to give up meat, alcohol or smoking, and a day or two later your mind whispers, “Nothing terrible will happen if I eat a little fish, just a tiny bit. Have a little smoke, just one puff. And what harm can beer do? It is not vodka…” Familiar, is it not?

No matter how you scold yourself, try to be brave or hold firm, this invisible tempter keeps winning, sooner or later. In the end, only resentment remains—resentment towards yourself. You had good aims and a bright direction, but you could not do it; you failed… Yet you should not blame yourself. All you lack is knowledge of how it works: the inner mechanisms of your subtle systems, which you were never taught at school. You are not to blame. You wanted to improve yourself; you simply lack the knowledge of how to do it.

Through this practice, you will learn to calm the hungry dog of your mind. It will stop troubling you, and you will be able to enter your Temple and take the jewels within.

How to practise

The practice is actually very simple. You may even be surprised by its paradoxical nature, because the method seems to contradict what you are doing or wish to do. Nevertheless, follow the instructions in precisely this way, knowing that the method works very effectively when the rule below is observed.

I will begin with a specific example. Suppose you decide to fast for a week. I think many people would like to fast for a week for their health and purification, and many have probably tried, but managed only a day or three days, while a week-long fast suddenly became an impossible dream. Every day the mind says, “You have fasted for another day. That is incredibly impressive, so you can eat now.” Or, “Listen, why do you need all this? Eat; do not torment yourself,” and so on.
The practice consists of giving the mind its flatbread. Suppose a thought arises—the mind says, “Enough. I will eat today; to hell with this fast.” You should agree. Say inwardly, or think, “Of course I will eat today. No problem.” The mind says, “I will have noodles with tomato sauce and garlic. And for dessert, definitely my favourite biscuits with tea.” You reply, “Yes, no problem. That is exactly what I will eat.” The mind: “I will eat plenty.” You: “Of course, as much as I want.” You always agree with what your mind says.
Within a few seconds of getting what it wants, the mind will become calm. You will be surprised, but it will no longer trouble you. The wish to eat will turn out to have been merely a mental desire: a desire of the mind, nothing more. Previously, you answered, “Leave me alone! I will not eat. I am doing a therapeutic fast today. No food. End of discussion!” In this way, you could spend the whole day at war with your mind, while the tension kept increasing. It was as though you were drawing a bowstring tighter and tighter. You were really fighting yourself. You could not enter the Temple of your extraordinary inner possibilities: the mind would not let you in.
Now everything should be fundamentally different. No struggle, no resistance. You calm the mind very simply by agreeing with everything it wants. I would compare it to a small child and a mother—a wise mother, I should add. An ordinary mother replies “No” when a child asks, “Buy me that toy,” and the child begins crying, becomes unmanageable and throws a tantrum. A wise mother says, “Yes, of course I will, a little later.” The child has received what it wanted: its wish has been acknowledged. Half an hour later, or sooner, it will have forgotten the toy altogether and want another one; it was merely a reflexive desire. Our mind works the same way: it presses us, and we press back. The harder we press it, the harder it presses us. All we need to do is let it pass by, allowing its energy and force to exhaust themselves. Tell it, “Yes, let it be as you wish.” That will exhaust its impulse completely. It will wander off in its own direction, while you gain complete freedom from its endless attacks.
The pattern is very simple: the mind wants something, and you agree. You immediately notice the energy of that desire running out. A moment ago, you wanted a smoke; your mind was nagging that a cigarette would be nice. You agree completely, saying or thinking, “I will go and smoke now,” and immediately discover that the mind has run out of steam. You agreed with it, it was satisfied, and its energy in that direction disappeared. As a result, you do not go to smoke.
This pattern works everywhere. Suppose you are bench-pressing a barbell. On the fifth repetition, the mind says, “That is it. I cannot do any more. Five is my limit.” You reply, “Yes, of course. Five is my limit.” Then you do another two or three repetitions, amazed at where the strength came from. You are running ten kilometres, and the mind says, “Enough running. I will not start an eleventh kilometre.” You say, “Of course. Eleven kilometres would be too much.” Then you easily run another five kilometres, wondering how it is possible.
After practising for a while, you will be amazed to discover that your reserve of abilities is truly inexhaustible. You will befriend the dog guarding your Temple and easily take your jewels: the infinite possibilities and abilities placed within us by Nature and God.

Note

What else can I add? Treat the mind as a child, not as an enemy. A child simply needs attention and lives in a world of imagination. It becomes excited by some idea—for example, buying a tent and sleeping bag and setting off tomorrow to conquer Everest—and runs to tell you that it absolutely must carry it out. Do not say “no”. Say “yes”: say that it is a wonderful idea and that you agree completely. Believe me, when “tomorrow” arrives, the child will have entirely different plans. But it will feel great love for you because of your understanding and interest. Do not say “no”.

See also the practice The Secret Companion.

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