The Bhagavad Gita (3 page)

I love that the all-powerful Divinity described in the
Gita
is loving and nonpunitive.

I love that the
Gita
looks death (and life) squarely in the eye and offers a straightforward system for not just conquering our fear of death but triumphing over death itself !

Finally, I love the
Gita
’s emphasis on
application
rather
than airy theology — insisting that putting the teachings into practice will lead to a happier, more graceful life.

5.  I learned that there’s an enthralling paradox in all this.

In the final analysis, it’s not about this book, and it’s not even about the brilliant, never-changing principles and teachings of
The Bhagavad Gita
itself. It’s about
you.
It’s about you, learning to rid yourself of your worldly suffering and find true happiness. It’s about you, learning to slip quietly into your own True Self Within. The only real destination in life is your inner Divinity. In the end it’s all you have.

“Ancient, but strangely close and familiar. . . . ”

The
Gita
is an epic mystical poem about life, death, love, and duty from the peoples who settled in the river valleys in southern Asia and developed a sophisticated culture thousands — probably scores of thousands — of years ago. It is a half-inch-thick poem embedded in the middle of a six-inch-thick poem, the
Mahabharatha,
a literary masterpiece about the heights and depths of the human soul.

The Bhagavad Gita
contains the inner essence of India, the moral and spiritual principles found in the very earliest scriptures of this ancient land. One of them, the
Rig Veda,
is said to be the oldest record of humankind! To read
The Bhagavad Gita,
therefore, is to reach countless epochs back in time — and yet, as I settled into these cobwebby teachings, they felt
strangely close and familiar. It was as if some force could at long last take my hand and walk me down a not-so-quiet path to important and meaningful truths; as if I — this too-worldly Western businessman living behind the fading whitewashed walls of an ashram in southern India — could now, finally, be let in on the most profound secrets of humankind.

This ancient tome is not, as one might expect, about withdrawing from life to meditate in some far-off cave. It’s more of a manual to clutch close, a friendly guide for living a more spiritual life today — a more purposeful and fulfilling life even while staying fully active in the world. The
Gita
is very much about how to remove sorrow and pain from life and thus achieve contentment and serenity, which is a wondrous goal. But even more than that, it’s about the absolute highest prize: liberation and self-realization in this lifetime. It’s not merely about the quest for these lofty things; it’s a detailed map to the treasure itself — a handbook for living a higher, more satisfying existence here, now, in today’s tough and troubling times.

And the
Gita
is also about how to die, and what happens after.

As I studied the
Gita,
I found myself so engrossed in this old yet current scripture that I carefully worked through each of the 700 verses
(slokas),
one by one. I called it a “walkthrough,” and it was not an easy stroll. The
Gita’s
message is full of profound, sometimes intricate spiritual concepts. Many of the painstaking translations, written by scholars for other scholars, can be almost painfully thorough. And Sanskrit, the early language of the
Gita,
contains exact terms for spiritual and philosophical concepts that, when put into English, can sound too condensed — like one of those old pay-by-the-word telegrams (“Arrive Noon Tuesday Meet Me”). Important details are missing; you often don’t know what is really being said.

I wanted to understand the book in a way that spoke as directly as possible to my struggles and daily concerns, so I developed a pattern of juggling five or six translations of the
Gita
on my desk and lap, scratching notations in the margins, checking one against the other, and writing out my own
synthesis of each
sloka
in modern American English. This allowed me to get into the flow of ideas and not interrupt my reading every few words to clarify the meaning of some hard-to-grasp idea. I ended up working my way through thirty-some versions, many over 1,000 pages, several consisting of two or three volumes (one was seventeen volumes).

It wasn’t as onerous or bookish as it sounds because over the years I had already developed a relationship with the
Gita.
Although my cultural background (as a practical organization consultant from California via upstate New York) is far distant from India, for me the
Gita’s
teachings were tangible and immediate. For twelve years my wife, Louise, and I had lived about six months each year in a spiritual community in rural India where the culture of the
Gita
is still a strong part of daily life. I was therefore able to test these teachings on the touchstone of life’s trials as I lived them.

As each day closed, I would read my notes to Louise, who had also grown to love this great work, to see if the day’s writings made sense to another ordinary, interestedWesterner. We looked forward to these nightly sessions, and as we grew to better understand the
Gita,
we developed an even greater admiration and trust of it.

Dusting off the
Gita’s
gems of wisdom and adding them to the necklace of our daily living changed us and beautified our lives (and perhaps our immersion in the
Gita
even saved Louise’s life, as I explain in the Afterword). There is a humility that comes with rediscovering these old pearls that have touched countless millions of souls through many thousands of years. And there is an awe at seeing how germane they are to the problems of today’s world.

The “walkthrough” metaphor contained more than I had envisioned. At first it just felt like a friendly term implying an ease of reading. But as the work progressed, my task became more evident: this needed to be a truly different style of
Gita.
The traditional way of imparting these ancient truths is to present a short, aphorism-like teaching (a “telegram phrase”), and then explain it through several pages of in-depth “commentary.”

That process is too lumbering for today. This needed to be a livelier
Gita,
more attuned, a
Gita
that could be read from cover to cover without backtracking to recall certain words, or sidetracking into companion volumes to find out what it really means. This
Gita
had to stand on its own two feet, without crutches of any kind. The whole point is to take your time, walk through it from beginning to end, and enjoy the stroll.

Thus I found myself even more intensely juggling the many resource books, making sure that in the end I could stroll easily, and Louise could listen smoothly, with understanding. I had to repeat the meanings of unfamiliar words, and restate several times the explanations of certain ideas that are used quite differently in the
Gita
than we Westerners use them (the definition of
reality
, for example). I chose to repeat these clarifications as asides or in parentheses so the reading would continue to flow.

“Clarity and flow” became my mantra as the work developed, but I also had to ensure that it did not turn into just another interesting self-help book — that it retained its very special energy and remained a full-strength, undiluted
Gita.
I tested the manuscript with several people who are knowledgeable of Sanskrit and the
Gita,
including professor friends who are not at all shy about giving criticism. Some wrinkled their brows (“just forWesterners?”), but after getting into it they all liked it and offered many suggestions. A few even confessed that they had personally learned much from it. Not one of them found the frequent reminders too repetitious. Indeed, Krishna, the God figure in the
Gita,
restates the same truths again and again in different contexts and imageries — like a mother repeating lessons to her child.

That’s how it unfolded. In this quite natural way, this new version of
The Bhagavad Gita
shuffled happily into being—a concise but powerful book that invites ancient but strangely close and familiar ideas into our lives, and gives us new understanding of ancient truths.

To read
The Bhagavad Gita
is to swing back and forth smoothly between the head and heart, between the worldly and the spiritual, arching between gaining knowledge and applying it in today’s real world. In this swing from humanness to godliness lies the
Gita’s
secret penetrating power, its ability to lift and move us.

The year is 3141 B.C.E. Arjuna, an esteemed warriorprince at the height of his powers, the greatest man of action of his time, is readying to go into battle. It is a righteous fight to regain a kingdom rightfully his. All his life he has been a courageous, successful achiever, renowned for prowess in combat. But now, on the eve of the biggest clash of his career, an odd thing happens. His hands begin to shake.

Arjuna is in his magnificent war chariot pulled by four white steeds. The chariot driver, Arjuna’s best friend from boyhood, is Krishna,
an Avatar,
an incarnation of Divinity on earth. Arjuna, who doesn’t really understand Krishna’s Divinity, has directed him to drive the chariot into the center of the plain where the great battle is soon to begin. The opposing armies have gathered on each side.

It is an epic scene: two lone figures parked between the legions of good and evil; masses of soldiers, tents, cook fires, neighing horses, banners snapping in the early-afternoon breeze; the bustle, noises, and smells of pre-battle filling the air.

Arjuna’s eyes scan the opposing forces, pausing on former friends, revered uncles, teachers who taught him his warrior skills. All are bravely making ready for the mutual slaughter. He slumps, breathes heavily, and looks quizzically at Krishna.

Reading the
Gita,
we come to better understand life as an inner battle, a struggle for the mind, heart, body, and spirit. And, make no mistake, it is a fight to the death. We learn that our real enemies are not outside but within: our own desire, anger, and greed. This is what makes it so hard. These archenemies have linked forces so powerfully that they are all but unbeatable. We’re losing.

The
Gita
boldly declares that spirituality is the only winning solution. Turn inward, it directs us, and upward. Look no further than the True Self Within.

Seated in his chariot in the middle of the battlefield, the slumping Prince Arjuna, his voice barely audible, asks, “Why am I doing this, Krishna? Life is so cruel, so demanding. I don’t know if I have the heart for battle anymore.” His eyes fill with tears, his knees soften, and he sinks deeper into the vehicle seat. “Beloved friend,” he says, “please tell me — what is it all about?”

Like water that filters slowly down through earth and comes out fresh and pure, important ideas passing down through the sands of time are eventually rubbed clean and emerge as pure truth. Although stated in different ways at different times by different peoples of the world, these truths have been known to humanity for centuries, for millennia. Though all races and eras may have their own conceptions of God, they all do have God, and Truth, and Goodness. All higher religions and philosophical systems are in nearly complete agreement with these basics.

The Bhagavad Gita
is one of the earliest, clearest, and most comprehensive statements of these perennial truths. In the
Gita,
the Divine comes to His friend man in the middle of a vicious war and carefully expounds the laws and principles that govern human life.

We see Arjuna on the battlefield, this impressive warrior, bent, burdened, eyes glistening, pleading for the meaning of life. Krishna, totally calm, responds in effect, “Oh,
you really want to know?” With that, he takes the next twenty minutes to deliver the answer — straight from the Source!

The
Gita’
s eighteen chapters can be divided into three clusters. The first six chapters focus mainly on knowing the True Self and, concurrently, on the need to perform one’s worldly duties effectively for society’s welfare. The next six concentrate on the very nature of the Godhead, and the great love for Him that springs from intimately knowing Him. The final six provide particular knowledge and wisdom for achieving the very purpose of existence, which is to liberate ourselves from the inevitable pain and sorrow that life deals us and ultimately to merge into that Godhead, Divinity itself.

All these are ideas of extraordinary size and power, with numerous subtleties and shades of thought. Krishna presents each of these huge ideas gradually, piece by piece, chapter after chapter, until the whole picture becomes clear.