Sri Aurobindo
The Harmony of Virtue
Early Cultural Writings — 1890-1910
Things1 Seen in Symbols [1]
What is dhyāna? Ordinarily, when a man is absorbed in thought and dead to all that is going on around him, he is supposed to be in dhyāna. Or concentration of the whole thought on a single object to the exclusion of every other, is called dhyāna. But neither of these ideas corresponds exactly with the whole truth; they represent only particular stages of the process of meditation. Dhyāna is a wide term covering a number of processes which rise from ordinary attention to nirvikalpa samādhi.
The distinguishing feature of dhyāna is that it puts out a steady force of knowledge on the object of knowledge. When this process is successful, when there is a steady demand on the object to give up its secret, it is called by Patanjali saṃyama. Even when it is only partially successful, it is called2 dhyāna.
Ordinary thought is not dhyāna. Ordinary thought is simply the restlessness of the mind playing with associations, speculations, trains of reasoning. In order to have dhyāna, the restlessness of the mind must be utterly settled3, the intellect must become like a calm and waveless sea, not a ripple4 on its surface.
The principle is that all knowledge is in oneself, in the knower. The knower is in myself; he is also in the object of knowledge, e.g.5, a stone or a tree. By dhyāna the veil of ignorance, the chaos of misunderstandings which interfere between the knower in me and the knower in the tree or the stone is removed; we enter into relation with each other; we are in Yoga. All knowledge about the stone is in the stone itself; in dhyāna it comes into my mind. When it comes into my mind, the knower in me says: “It is true, the knowledge is in me also and I see it there.” Or, if there is a mistake, he says, “There is a mistake, the mind is interfering; the knowledge is in me and I see it otherwise.”
The whole world is one. The knower in the stone and the knower in myself are one; I am He. It is God in me, God in the stone. The knowledge in me and the knowledge in the stone are one; I am that. It is God in me, God in the stone. The stone is an object of knowledge, I am also an object of knowledge. These two also are one, God as myself, God as the stone. God is the only object of knowledge, there is no other. God is the only knower, there is no other. God is the knowledge also. Jñātā, jñānam, jñeyam, they are one.
The mind creates difference. When there is disturbance on the waters, there are many waves, and each wave cries, “I am I, I am I; you are you; we are different.” When the sea sinks to rest, the waves as they go inward, no longer cry, “I am I”, but “I am He”. The still and waveless sea, that is a delightful and beautiful condition. The stormy, myriad-crested ocean, that also is a very beautiful and delightful condition. Only let the waves have the knowledge, let them say, “I am I for the sake of delight; you are you for the sake of delight. But also you are I, I am you. And both you and I are He. ” That is Jñānam, that is Yoga.
The still sea is a condition, and the thousand waves are a condition. He who is the sea, is more than disturbance, more than stillness. He contains All. He is All. Even the infinite sea is only one of His manifestations.
Later edition of this work: The Complete Works of Sri Aurobindo.- Set in 37 volumes.- Volume 1.- Early Cultural Writings (1890 — 1910).- Pondicherry: Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 2003.- 784 p.
1 First published in The Standard Bearer, 29 August 1920
2 2003 ed.: still
3 2003 ed.: stilled
4 2003 ed.: sea, not a movement, not a ripple
5 2003 ed.: say