Hanuman in the cave Persevering in bhakti through pleasure and trouble

Hare Krishna!
Am I audible to all of you?
Okay, thank you.

So, today I will speak on the topic, “From Darkness to Light.”
Is it better now? Still not clear?
You can come a little forward, if you’d like.
Yeah, maybe a little ahead. If you can.
Okay.
Last time, I was sitting there, wasn’t I? You changed it?
No, but how does that make a difference?
No, no, but why should that lead to a change in the seating arrangement?
Okay, from an acoustic point of view, that might be better.
Because if I’m there, both sides can hear me.
Is it okay, or is it too much echo?
No, no, don’t say “okay” just for the sake of saying it.
Should we do that?
Yeah, then I think everybody can hear properly.
No, no, stop. Here.
Hare Krishna! Hare Krishna!
Is it better now?
Okay, thank you.

So, you know, when we are not able to hear a class clearly, three things happen.
One is that we lose interest.
The other is that the mind starts filling up the gaps.
What happens is, researchers have found that even if people are very attentive, they only get about 20% of what the speaker says.
And if they hear 20%, they only get 20% of that.

I was in one place near New York, where I gave a class, and after that, there were so many questions about things I had not even spoken about in the class.
I was wondering, it’s good to have questions, but why so many?
Everyone had misunderstood and thought they heard something I hadn’t said.

Is it better now?
Thank you. So, I’ll speak today on the topic, “From Darkness to Light.”
We’ll talk about a story from the Ramayana on this topic.

When I was studying in college, about 25 years ago (more than that), I found that most students were confused.
What should I do with my life? How should I move forward?
This confusion is still common today.

Just recently, I gave a talk in Stanford, and after the talk, a mother, a Western lady, came to me. She told me her daughter had been at Stanford for 12 years. It’s not that her daughter couldn’t clear exams—she just kept thinking, “What is my calling in life?”
For 12 years, she had changed her major 12 times just to find what really felt right for her.

I told her, “Old age is calling you now.”
So, what happens is that many people, especially teenagers and youth, are confused about what they are meant to do with their life.
In fact, most people are confused.
But there are some special people who are confidently confused. They don’t know what to do, but they’re confident this is what they will do.

Broadly speaking, we talk about “darkness.”
There is physical darkness and metaphysical darkness.

Physical darkness blinds us. We can’t see. If the power goes out, we touch the wall or move carefully, thinking, “How can I move ahead?”
But metaphysical darkness is different.
Here, we are not just in darkness, but we are unaware that we are in darkness.
This can be particularly disorienting.

The Isha Upanishad has one of its bewildering verses, which hints at this:
Andham tamaha pravishanti ye vidyam upasate tato bhuyayivate tamo yau vidyayam rataha.
It says, “Those who are in ignorance will enter into darkness. But those who are in so-called knowledge will enter into greater darkness.”

You might wonder, “What’s going on here? How can knowledge lead to greater darkness?”
If we look at the overall flow of the Isha Upanishad, it is saying that not those who are in genuine knowledge, but those who are in so-called knowledge—those who think they are in knowledge but are still in darkness—will enter into deeper darkness.

What does this mean?
When we are born and live our lives, all of us are given some purpose.
We are told to grow up, build a career, have a family, get financially secure, and gain a good position in society. This is our goal, and we move forward accordingly.

This purpose is important for our life.
But what about after that?
What happens when we achieve all of this? There’s old age, there’s death. What comes after that?

We have a purpose for this life, but what about beyond it?

Those who are in rajas (the mode of passion) become completely consumed by their purpose in this life.
But those in sattva (the mode of goodness) think, “This is important, but is there something more to life?”
This leads them to seek knowledge.

On the other hand, those in tamas (ignorance) are so lethargic, so lazy, that they don’t even pursue a purpose in life.
Many children, especially those born in privileged families, spend their childhood and youth just playing video games, watching movies, and surfing social media without doing anything constructive in life.

Especially in welfare states, where the government supports people who can’t earn, many people become apathetic and don’t do anything.
Having a material purpose is better than having no purpose at all. At least you’re moving forward.

To achieve something materially respectable in life, one has to work hard, discipline oneself, and restrain the mind and senses.

We could say that tamas (ignorance) is a form of darkness.
At one level, the whole material world is a place of darkness.
But within this darkness, we can be in even deeper darkness.
That means, without any material purpose, we live without any spiritual purpose either.

But some people, even with a material purpose, become so obsessed with it that they don’t think of anything beyond that.
This, too, is a kind of blindness.

Beyond this is sattva, when we start thinking, “This is important, but is there something more to life?”
How can I pursue that?

So, broadly speaking, the scriptures guide us to rise from rajas to sattva.
The mode of goodness and the mode of ignorance can look similar externally.
Some people may not work hard because they are detached, while others may not work hard because they are lazy. Externally, these two can look the same.

I was in the temple in Pune once, and a boy came up to me and asked, “How do you become a brahmachari in this temple?”
I said, “Okay.”
Now, he hardly ever came to the temple, never participated in programs, and seemed not to have the dedication required to devote one’s life. This is a serious question. I asked, “How did you get interested?”
He replied, “Actually, I am going to decide by Sunday whether I am going to become a brahmachari or not.”
I was curious and asked, “Oh, really? What is happening on Sunday?”
He said, “I have proposed to a girl. If she says no, I will become a brahmachari then.”

Now, frustration is no qualification for renunciation. Frustration may direct us toward renunciation, but unless one has a positive purpose, one will not be able to continue. So, this boy’s situation was driven by wanting to form a relationship, which is the mode of passion (rajas). If that doesn’t work out, then he would shift to tamas, the mode of ignorance.

But we want to move towards the mode of goodness and transcendence. That’s why there must be knowledge and a sense of purpose. If I want to renounce the world, why do I want to renounce it? What do I want to do after renouncing the world? There must be a positive purpose. Otherwise, externally, ignorance and goodness can look very similar. Many people who are in ignorance often use spirituality to be irresponsible. When that happens, they create trouble for themselves in the long run and alienate others as well.

Bhakti Siddhartha Thakur, when he encountered such people, spoke about the importance of purpose. He was the first Acharya in our tradition to establish a monastery where many people would live as renunciates. Prabhupada followed this to some extent. Bhakti Siddhartha Thakur once said something astonishing: “I am simply trying to create some mode of passion in our devotees. I am simply trying to elevate devotees to the mode of passion.”

We think we want to elevate people to goodness and transcendence, but often, people settle into lethargy, apathy, and laziness, thinking everything is fine. So, there are different kinds of darkness. There is the darkness of ignorance, where one doesn’t care for anything—material or spiritual—and the darkness of passion, where one becomes so obsessed with material things that spiritual matters are ignored entirely.

A devotee from Russia once told me that he gave a class in which he spoke about how “You are not the body, you are the soul.” After the class, one person asked, “If I am not my body, then whose body am I?” They were convinced they are the body, and this was hard for them to understand.

It’s difficult for people to rise to the level of spiritual knowledge. What will raise us is not just frustration; it is a sense of purpose and strength. A sense of purpose means asking ourselves, “What do I want to do with my life?” We can have a sense of purpose in the mode of passion, or we can have a sense of purpose in the mode of goodness. But the sense of purpose is very important.

All of us are at different levels of darkness, and we are all trying to come to light—trying to understand what is truly valuable. When there is darkness, we can’t see things properly. Imagine a room that suddenly becomes dark, and there is a jewel somewhere on the floor. We try to catch the jewel, but in the darkness, we might pick up a stone and think it’s the jewel.

Similarly, when we are in spiritual darkness, we can’t understand what is truly of value. We might give up things that are very valuable for things that are trivial or less important. Often, when we have a close encounter with death, like when someone near us passes away or we go through a near-accident, we suddenly realize how misguided our priorities were.

I remember a devotee telling me about a time when a Mataji (a lady) was very cleanliness-conscious. Cleanliness is important, but she was driving to work one day and was late, so she rushed out of her house. Suddenly, a truck hit her car, and it spun around. The first thought that came to her mind was, “Oh, if I die and people go to my home, they will see that my house is so unclean!”

Cleanliness is important, no doubt, but in that moment, it wasn’t the right thing to focus on. That’s the time to think about Krishna. So, if we are not in proper knowledge, we can’t see the actual value of things. We might cling to things that seem important to us at the moment, but in reality, they are not the most important.

The mind latches on to something and holds on to it, and it doesn’t have a sense of perspective. What is more valuable? What is less valuable? What is more important? What is less important? If the mind just holds on to one thing and says, “This is all that matters,” we are in a state of darkness.

We might obsess over getting a particular raise in salary, getting a promotion, buying a house, or buying a car. These are not bad things; if we can get them, that’s fine. But if we become so obsessed with them that we can’t think about anything else, it becomes unhealthy.

So, when I speak of metaphysical darkness, it means that in that darkness, we can’t understand what is truly of value.

So, those things that are of little value, we hold onto them so much that we lose sight of what is of ultimate value. Our connection with Krishna, our devotion to Krishna (Krishna Bhakti), is of ultimate importance. That is what will endure forever, and that is what will give us strength, even in this life.

Now, whatever is valuable in this world is still important to us, but it may be lost. And even if it remains in times of distress, it may not necessarily offer us the same shelter that Krishna can. There are two extremes to be avoided: one is where we believe everything in this world has value and Krishna holds no significance, and the other where we think Krishna is the only value, and everything in this world is meaningless. While we live in this world, the things of this world do hold some value, but they should never overshadow Krishna or our service to Him.

With this background, let’s look at the story from the Ramayana, which speaks about moving from darkness to light.

When Lord Ram sent the Vanaras to search for Sita, they were given a time frame by Sugriva to find her. They were instructed to search in all four directions and return within a month. The Vanaras were particularly hopeful about the southern direction because they had seen Ravana heading that way. This was why, when Hanuman was sent, Lord Ram had given him a signet ring to give to Sita, should he find her.

Searching for someone is never easy. I was at a farm community once, where one of the family members’ children went missing. The child had been supposed to get into the car, but when the father went inside and returned, the child had disappeared. They launched a search team, and the community members immediately joined in, offering support. Despite initial reluctance, even the government and police teams eventually allowed the community volunteers to join in. This resulted in a massive effort where almost a hundred people helped in the search. It was a rare example of people coming together to help in times of trouble.

Searching for someone who is lost requires great effort, and knowing where to look is crucial. Similarly, in the Ramayana, the Vanaras searched tirelessly, going through dense forests, caves, and remote mountains, but they couldn’t find any trace of Sita. After a month of searching, they arrived in a place where there was no water or food, and they were exhausted. But then, they saw birds flying out of a cavern with wet wings, which gave them hope that there was something ahead. They decided to go forward and, linking together, entered a dark cave.

Though nervous, they proceeded slowly. Their perseverance led them deeper into the cave, and soon, they saw a light. It wasn’t just any light; it was a bright, shining light that illuminated a grand mansion. They were amazed to see this mansion inside the cave, with luxurious seats, beautiful trees, and a lake. They wondered if they had entered the domain of a demon.

As they explored further, they saw a woman meditating in yogic posture. When they approached, Hanuman, known for his soft-spoken nature, spoke to her gently. “Oh, lady, we are lost and we are hungry and thirsty. What is this place? It is astonishing, and we feared it might be a demon’s lair. But seeing you in deep meditation, so serene, we believe this must not be a place of a demon. Please, tell us where we are.”

Hanuman spoke with great respect and humility, acknowledging her presence and the beauty of the place, and inquiring in a way that was gentle yet direct. His words were not accusatory, but expressed genuine curiosity and respect.

We thought it was like this, but it didn’t seem that way.
So, who are you?

You know, when we meet people, our words can either open windows or build walls. And if we build walls, we then have to work to break them down later. Otherwise, it becomes very difficult to connect.

At that point, Swayamprabha was pleased. She had mystic power, and with it, she understood that these were Ram’s servants. She knew who Ram was.

She said, “This is actually a mansion built by Mayadana.”
Maya is the illusory energy. Maya is the architect of the asuras, while Vishwakarma is the architect of the devatas. Maya is the architect of the demons.

The demons had once tried to conquer heaven, but when they failed, they decided to create a replica of heaven on Earth. Maya created this mansion. Initially, he lived here, and the demons would come and stay occasionally.

When Indra heard about this, he realized that having a heaven on Earth would disrupt the cosmic order, so he decided to attack Maya. But Maya was very powerful, having received blessings from Brahma.

Indra, concerned, consulted Brahma, and they decided to send an Apsara named Hema to elude Maya. Intoxicated by her, Maya lost his senses, and Indra attacked, forcing Maya to flee. Some versions of the Ramayana say that Maya was killed and reborn, but most simply state that he fled.

Afterward, Indra, in gratitude to Hema, told her that she could live in the mansion.

Swayamprabha then spoke, “I am Swayamprabha. I was an assistant and friend of Hema. She lived here for a while, but then Indra asked her to return to heaven. As she left, she asked me to care for this place. I was alone, and I didn’t know how I could protect it.”

She continued, “Hema was an Apsara of Indra, so if anyone harmed her, Indra would intervene. But I will give you mystic powers. Perform this yogic tapasya, and you will gain mystic abilities to protect yourself and this place.”

Since then, I have been performing austerities here. I see that you are hungry and thirsty, so please have as much food and water as you like.”

At this, Hanuman and the Vanaras, who had been looking on from behind, eagerly rushed forward and ate as much food as they could. Their hunger was satisfied, and they felt relieved.

Afterward, Swayamprabha asked, “Now that your fatigue and hunger are gone, can you tell me who you are and why you’re here?”

Hanuman told her the story of how Sita had been abducted and how they were searching for Ram. She listened intently.

Swayamprabha then said, “The Vanaras have traveled a long distance into this cave. Now that you’ve satisfied your hunger, you must take your leave. However, Maya arranged this mansion in such a way that once you enter, you cannot leave. This is the path of no return.”

“But we saw birds leaving the cave,” they said. “Why can they go out?”

“Birds can leave because they won’t cause harm. Humans, on the other hand, cannot leave. You may be called monkeys, but you are not just monkeys. As seen in the Ramayana, the Vanaras speak and possess human intelligence, not just speech. They also have spiritual inclination. The Vanaras are devotees of Ram, and the capacity for spirituality is a human attribute. The word ‘Vanara’ means ‘forest humans,’ signifying that they are more than just monkeys. They are special beings who were highly evolved, some even more powerful than humans.”

“Because you have human consciousness, you cannot leave,” she said.

Upon hearing this, the Vanaras began to panic. “We can’t leave!”

But Hanuman, looking at Swayamprabha, said, “I am sure you know how to help us leave. Please, help us.”

Swayamprabha responded, “The purpose of this arrangement is to keep the mansion hidden. If anyone leaves and tells others, it will be plundered. The rule is that once someone enters, they cannot leave.”

“Please,” Hanuman pleaded. “We are on a mission to serve Ram and find Sita. We need your help.”

Swayamprabha paused and then said, “Okay, there is one way. The purpose of keeping you trapped here is to prevent others from discovering this place. I will use my mystic powers to take you out. But you must close your eyes.”

The Vanaras agreed and closed their eyes.

Within moments, Swayamprabha spoke, “Open your eyes.”

When they opened their eyes, they saw that they were outside. Swayamprabha explained, “Here you see the Vindhya mountain range. And in front of you is the southern ocean. I have brought you out and now I must return to my cave to continue my austerities.”

Hanuman thanked her, and she disappeared.

The Vanaras now realized that the place they had emerged from was not the same as where they had entered. She had taken them into the cave from one side and brought them out on the other, placing them right next to the southern ocean.

Feeling relieved, rejuvenated, and with the grace of Swayamprabha, they were now ready to continue their journey and search for Sita. They were filled with joy. “Yes, now we will find Sita!”

They started charging ahead.

The story in the Ramayana illustrates the principle of obstacles on the path of service. When we live in this world, we all face difficulties. Even when we are trying to serve the Lord and fulfill our dharmic duties, we still encounter challenges. Just like the Vanaras, who, in the midst of their difficulties, entered a cave, hoping to find some relief, we often face problems and look for solutions. But sometimes, as we dive deeper into those solutions, we can end up feeling more lost.

Broadly speaking, there are two types of obstacles in our life journey: trouble and pleasure.

Trouble means you’re walking along a path and suddenly feel overwhelmed by how difficult it is. You want to give up because the way ahead seems too hard.

Pleasure, on the other hand, means you’re walking the same path, but instead of feeling troubled, you start enjoying the journey so much that you wonder if there’s any need to keep going.

Both types of obstacles can deter us. Trouble makes us want to stop because we feel it’s too difficult, while pleasure tempts us to stop because we feel content with where we are.

In this cave, the Vanaras faced both obstacles. As they ventured deeper, it was dark and uncharted. Sometimes in life, we encounter such darkness, not knowing what to do. We may feel lost, unsure of what lies ahead. But, just like the Vanaras, we must keep walking—one step at a time.

In life, we might go through hellish phases. “Hell” doesn’t only refer to a place after death, as many believe. Everyone wants to go to heaven, but no one wants to die. The truth is, we often experience our own hell on Earth, facing extreme difficulties. But if we keep walking through it, just as the Vanaras did, we can find a way out.

If we find ourselves in a tough phase, we must remember that nothing in this world, including troubles, lasts forever. Both troubles and pleasures are temporary. The key is to keep moving forward, step by step.

Despite the Vanaras facing challenges, they didn’t give up. They could have complained, questioning why they were enduring such difficulty when they were serving Ram, not even for their own sake. But instead, they kept walking.

In our own struggles, it’s best to keep moving on, no matter how dark or tough it gets. Faith means taking one step at a time, even when we can’t see the entire path. That’s what the Vanaras did—they kept walking, step by step, even when they couldn’t see what was ahead.

The other obstacle is pleasure. When the Vanaras finally reached the mansion inside the cave, they found comfort—food, rest, and relief from their hunger and exhaustion. They could have stayed there, enjoying these comforts, but none of them chose to.

Swayamprabha offered them what they needed, but the Vanaras remained focused on their mission. Even when pleasure or comfort tempts us to settle, we must remember our higher purpose and keep moving forward.

Sometimes, pleasure can become an obstacle because it leads us into complacency. We might feel content with where we are and forget about the bigger goal. I remember one relative of mine who, when I tried to talk to him about Krishna Consciousness, said, “I believe in God. He’s happy there, I’m happy here.” The problem with this mindset is that comfort doesn’t last forever. Life may seem good, but nothing is permanent. Just like the frog in a drying puddle, even comfort can fade.

Thus, when we find comfort or pleasure, we must continue onward, remembering that no comfortable situation will last forever.

Swayamprabha’s name means “self-effulgent”—she didn’t need external light to find her way. Similarly, our spiritual guide, much like Swayamprabha, helps us navigate through darkness.

Swayamprabha first provided comforts to the Vanaras, much like how a spiritual guide provides relief to a soul that is in darkness. But she also showed them the bigger picture. She did not settle for comfort. Instead, she was engaged in yogic austerities, indicating there’s something beyond temporary comforts.

All of us have basic necessities in life—things like wealth, health, and relationships. Studies show that wealth and happiness are connected, but only to a certain extent. Initially, when people lack basic needs, wealth reduces distress. However, once these needs are met, more wealth does not necessarily bring more happiness.

The Vanaras could have chosen to settle in the mansion, but they didn’t. They remembered their purpose and kept moving forward, just as we must do when faced with comfort or distractions in life.

The correlation between material possessions and happiness becomes hazy.

While making money is important, what we do with it is even more significant. It’s not just about having money; it’s about what we make of it. Imagine someone rushing out of their house to fill fuel in their car. If we ask them, “Where are you going?” they might say, “I’m going to the gas station.” We ask, “And then?” “I’ll go to the next gas station.” “And after that?” “I’ll go to the next one.” Clearly, while you need fuel to run the car, you don’t drive just to fuel up; you drive for a purpose.

Similarly, in life, the material needs—food, clothing, shelter, wealth—are things we live with. These are necessary, but they are not the ultimate purpose of life. Unfortunately, society often glamorizes these material needs, elevating them to the point where we lose sight of their true role. Imagine, if we were to obsess over getting the “best” fuel, the “prestigious” gas station. Fuel is fuel, and focusing too much on it would distract us from the actual purpose of driving.

This is the issue we face when material pleasure and possessions become the goal. Sure, it’s necessary to have some material comforts, but they should not be our purpose. For example, hunger causes distress, and lack of money can be stressful too. But once those needs are fulfilled, how much more do we really need? Just as eating too much food can harm our health, excessive material possession can also bring its own set of problems.

The Vanaras kept moving forward, even after their basic needs were met. Similarly, while we don’t want material deprivation, we must understand that material wealth is not the end goal. The Vanaras did not settle for comfort; they had a purpose, and so should we. Whether facing trouble or pleasure, they continued to move towards their ultimate goal.

When Swayam Prabha helped them out of the cave, they didn’t return the same way they came. Instead, they were closer to their goal. In life, whether we face difficulty or ease, if we remain focused on our purpose, we will continue evolving and moving toward the Lord.

Let’s conclude with an important teaching from Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita (5.20):

“Don’t be elated when joy comes.
Don’t become dejected by sorrow.
Keep your intelligence fixed on the spiritual goal.
Understand that you are spirit and pursue the spiritual path.”

This verse is significant because Krishna doesn’t say we should ignore joy or sorrow—they will come. Sometimes, life gives us joy, sometimes sorrow. Krishna is advising us not to get overly attached to either. When we experience something pleasant, we shouldn’t get carried away by it. When we face challenges, we shouldn’t become disheartened. Both will come and go. The key is to keep our focus on the spiritual goal.

As Prahlad Maharaj says, life can’t always be about avoiding the undesirable and seeking the desirable. If we seek only material pleasure, we end up caught in the cycle of desire and dissatisfaction. We should learn to serve Krishna, regardless of whether our circumstances are pleasant or unpleasant. That’s the path of true spiritual growth.

The example of chasing the five dollars illustrates this principle. Imagine you’re heading to an inheritance worth five million dollars, but along the way, a thief steals your five dollars. You could chase that thief, but in doing so, you waste precious time that could’ve been used to reach your destination. Similarly, in life, material pleasures may seem enticing, but they’re just distractions from our ultimate goal—Krishna Bhakti, or love for God.

Similarly, if we find a five-dollar bill, chasing after it might lead us further away from the real goal. The five million dollars represent our spiritual treasure. As we practice Bhakti—chanting, associating with devotees, studying scripture, doing puja—we move closer to that ultimate treasure.

This treasure is not just a distant goal; it is something we begin to experience incrementally every day. The more we connect with Krishna, the more we are enriched spiritually. So when problems come—when we face challenges or losses, like the theft of our five dollars—we must keep perspective. In the grand scheme of things, they are minor setbacks. Losing five dollars is not the end of the world, just as temporary setbacks in life are not the end of our spiritual journey.

Sometimes people overreact to problems, thinking their lives are over because of a small issue. This is what we call “hyperventilation”—overreacting to a situation. We must keep calm and maintain focus on the bigger picture, remembering that the goal is spiritual progress, not material possessions.

Everything is finished. And what happens is, don’t hyperventilate. There are problems, but look at your own life. If you look at your life five years ago, you would have faced some big problem. At that time, it probably seemed like it was going to end your life. But now, looking back, you might wonder why you got so worked up about it.

Of course, you have to deal with the problem—I’m not saying neglect it—but there’s no need to hyperventilate. There’s no need to think that a small issue, like a five-dollar loss, is so big that you must sacrifice something as valuable as five million dollars.

Don’t get overwhelmed by trouble. It will come, just like a five-dollar loss. Pleasure is also like a five-dollar gain. If you get it while moving forward, fine. If not, that’s okay too. The key is not to get stuck in either extreme. If you experience pleasure, don’t get so delighted by it that you stay stuck. If you face unpleasantness, don’t get so dejected that you remain trapped in it. Stay purposeful.

If you keep doing this, step by step, you are moving toward Krishna, the supreme enrichment. And if we develop our love for Krishna, by the end of our lives, if we love Krishna more than the world, the Lord will take us out of the world, and we will attain His abode. There, beyond all the darkness of the world, is the supreme light. That is the ultimate perfection in life.

Let me summarize. I spoke today on the topic of moving from darkness to light. First, I talked about physical darkness and metaphysical darkness. Physical darkness, like blindness, stops us from moving forward. But metaphysical darkness means not understanding what is truly valuable. People in ignorance are confused, and people in passion are confidently confused. In some ways, having a material purpose is better than having no purpose at all because it at least gives us direction and discipline. But to rise from rajas (passion) to sattva (goodness), we need to start thinking about a spiritual purpose.

Sometimes, people mistake frustration for renunciation. They move toward ignorance thinking it is spirituality or transcendence, but that’s not true. We need a purpose in life.

I also talked about how, due to metaphysical darkness, our minds don’t have a proper sense of perspective, and because of that, we misestimate the value of things. Material things are valuable, but spiritual things are even more valuable. We want to come out of that darkness through spiritual knowledge.

Then, I shared the story of the Vanaras (monkey warriors) who went into the dark cave. Though they were distressed, they kept walking through the dark, and eventually, they found relief and comfort. But they didn’t stay there. Even when they were told there was no way out, they found a way and were mystically transported to a place closer to their destination.

Similarly, in our life journey, we all face two kinds of obstacles: trouble and pleasure. Both of these are like a five-dollar loss or a five-dollar gain compared to the five million dollars that represent our love for Krishna. We must stay purposeful. Even if we go through hellish difficulties, we just keep walking. Everything is temporary. Even the most difficult phases in our life will pass, and even the pleasures we experience will not last forever.

If we keep moving forward, step by step, we are growing toward Krishna. The pleasure won’t last, the trouble won’t last, but Krishna will remain with us forever.

Thank you very much. Hare Krishna.

Any questions or comments?

We were talking about how we have these desires, and when we are spiritually advancing, the way we react to them changes. But sometimes, even though we know we should react differently, or we would have reacted differently in the past, we still fall back into reacting the same way.

That’s okay. Sometimes, despite knowing we shouldn’t react in a particular way, we still do. It’s like when people say, “I’ve made a resolution not to get angry,” and then they get angry. Someone points it out, and they might say, “I’m not angry!” but then they become even angrier because they don’t want to be reminded of it.

I once did a retreat in Brisbane on “Burn Anger Before Anger Burns You.” The point is that if we consider the graph of our consciousness over time, our urges tend to surge. It’s not that anger or greed is always at a high level. It may stay at a normal level most of the time, but sometimes it surges up. When that surge happens, we might just get overwhelmed. It’s good if we can resist it, but we shouldn’t define our spiritual advancement only by what happens during those surges.

So, what are we doing in between the surges? Even if we can’t resist our urges in the moment, we can persist between them. If a surge happens and we react in a way we didn’t want to, what do we do afterward? If in between surges we are practicing bhakti, connecting with Krishna, purifying ourselves, and strengthening our intelligence, then gradually, we will become strong enough to resist the urges when they come.

In spiritual life, we may fall down, but we don’t have to fall away. Falling down means we’re knocked down by the forces, but falling away means we give up the path entirely. Sometimes our urges may come, and we may feel helpless because they’re just too strong in that moment. But what we do in between is crucial. We can either become disheartened and think, “I’m never going to change,” or we can persist and keep trying.

If we think, “I’m never going to change,” and start justifying that this is who we are, that’s dangerous. It leads to the loss of faith in our potential to improve, and that’s the worst loss we can have. Losing faith in our ability to improve is cowardice, as we’re not having the courage to fight. It can also lead to malice, because our conditioning, if we give in to it, won’t keep us at the same level—it will drag us further down.

That’s why, in between urges, we need to keep building ourselves up. Don’t define yourself solely by what happens during the urges. Keep connecting with Krishna, building your strength, and equipping yourself.

There’s also an important insight regarding the urges. When the urge starts coming and we say, “No, I’m not going to do this, I’m not going to get angry,” sometimes it feels like the urge is getting stronger and stronger. We think, “How long can I resist this?” and then, “Maybe I should just give up.”

But the urge is not like an endlessly rising line; it’s like a wave. It builds up and then subsides. Imagine you’re in an arm wrestling match. The opponent is stronger, and they’re pushing your hand down, down, almost to the table. You might think, “I can’t hold on, I’m losing,” but if you know it’s a timed match, you realize that if you just hold on for a little longer, you’ll get a break. When the next round starts, it’ll be from neutral ground again.

Similarly, when urges rise, we may feel like they’re overwhelming us, but we have to remember that they won’t last forever. They will subside. If we understand that the urge is not going to stay at this level forever, we might find it easier to resist. And even if we do succumb to it, we won’t give in completely. It’s like the mind trying to trick us into thinking the urge will last forever. If we just hold on a little longer, we’ll get through it.

Sometimes, when we fall, the mind tells us, “Now that you’ve fallen, just fall completely.” But we don’t have to do that. Even if we fall, we don’t need to go deeper into it. We may be pushed down, but if we don’t let go, we won’t stay down for long.

So, these are two important points: we persist between the urges, and when the urges rise, we understand that they are temporary. Just hold on, and they will subside.

Forgiving ourselves:
Yes, definitely. Forgiving ourselves means understanding that we have certain conditionings and we can’t change overnight. In spiritual life, self-control is important, but even more important is humility. Sometimes, when we fail to resist our urges, it may make us feel more humble, which can actually be a bigger spiritual advancement than simply succeeding in self-control.

Forgiving ourselves doesn’t mean we just accept that “this is how I am” and remain the same. It means recognizing that we couldn’t resist in that moment, but still, we remain connected to Krishna and keep trying. We may have failed, but we can move forward, leaving that chapter behind.

Spiritual life is subtle. What we see as success or failure may not be as clear as we think. For example, sometimes people may fast strictly on Ekadashi, avoiding even water, but it’s not just about physical control. Spiritual success is more than just overcoming urges; it’s about developing a deeper connection with Krishna, even in the moments of failure.

And then everyone who is not fasting starts saying, “This is nirlaj, so attached, so hopeless, glutton.” Now, when someone is fasting but their mind is filled with judgment and condemnation towards others, what’s happening? Their body may be fasting, but their ego is feasting. Such fasting doesn’t lead to spiritual advancement.

On the other hand, someone who tries to fast but feels weakness, maybe even fainting or acidity, and decides to eat something to continue their service — they might succeed spiritually. Why? Because they have grown in humility. We don’t have to judge ourselves solely by how much we resist our urges. What matters more is how much we strive to connect with Krishna.

Question:
Earlier, you mentioned that someone said they would become a Brahmachari only if a certain person refused them. Is that wrong? We’ve seen many examples of people who’ve faced rejection and then decided that the true path in life is spiritual life. So, is it wrong for frustration to be the driving force for spiritual practice?

Answer:
Frustration can definitely be a reason why some people turn to something higher in life. In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna mentions four kinds of people who turn to Him: those in distress, those seeking knowledge, those wanting wealth, and those who are inquisitive. But, actually, distress is the common denominator here. In today’s world, if someone is inquisitive, there are millions of things they could be curious about. Why choose spirituality? It’s often because something has gone wrong in their lives. Similarly, when people need money, they might go to a bank for a loan rather than pray to God.

There has to be some dissatisfaction with life as it is, which pushes people to seek something higher. So, distress can be the starting point for spiritual life, but it cannot sustain spiritual life. To stay on the path, we need to develop a positive attraction to Krishna.

I would say that if someone starts or intensifies their spiritual life because of frustration, that’s fine. But if someone thinks they can make spiritual life a lifelong practice just based on frustration, that’s unlikely to work. This world is a place of distress, and no matter what ashram you’re in, you’ll still face challenges. If you go from one ashram to another due to frustration, eventually you’ll face difficulties there too. So, while distress can start spiritual life, to sustain it, we need a positive attraction or conviction about the value of spiritual life in its own right, not just because we are running from life’s problems.

Question:
Does that mean one is going from idealism to cynicism?

Answer:
Not exactly cynicism. This morning, we were talking about how we might either be naive, believing anyone, or cynical, believing no one. You can become cynical about people and the world, thinking there’s no happiness here, so let me seek something higher. But even on the spiritual path, there are difficulties.

If the purpose of practicing spiritual life is just to escape life’s problems, then we won’t be able to sustain it. There will always be challenges on the spiritual path. So, we need to have a higher purpose: the evolution of our consciousness, the growth in wisdom, and the development of our devotion.

Cynicism may help us see what’s wrong, but it cannot guide us toward what’s right. If someone is extremely cynical, they might even deny the existence of God. They may say, “This material world is an illusion,” but then dismiss the idea of God as an illusion as well. The problem with cynicism is that it’s very unhealthy overall.

Being cynical is like trying to drive a car with the brakes fully pressed. All it does is make a lot of noise and waste fuel without moving forward.

Question:
Any last questions?
Yes.
Thank you so much for the wonderful class. You compared $5 million to Krishna Consciousness, saying that it is the ultimate goal. But for many of us, understanding that Krishna Consciousness is like $5 million is sometimes difficult. How do we get convinced of this?

Answer:
That’s a great question. So, how do we get convinced that Krishna Consciousness is like $5 million? Right now, many of us may feel that Krishna is important, but so is Maya. That’s our state at the moment.

There are broadly two ways to get convinced. One is by associating with those who deeply value Krishna Consciousness, especially those who have already achieved what we are striving for. When we see that they don’t value material things as much, but they value Krishna Consciousness more, it can give us great conviction.

When I was introduced to Krishna Consciousness, I wanted to be a top student from a prestigious university and be an academic achiever. I met many devotees who were also academic achievers, and yet they practiced bhakti. This attracted me.

We all have our own definition of success, and we push hard for it. If we meet someone who has already achieved that definition of success and is still pursuing Krishna, it shows us that Krishna Consciousness is of greater value. That’s why they are pursuing it. This can help us understand the true value of Krishna Consciousness.

As Bhaktivinoda Thakur says, associating with like-minded devotees is very important. “Like-minded” doesn’t just mean we agree with each other. It means our minds work in similar ways. If we value something deeply, and the other person doesn’t value it at all, they can help us see that it’s actually not as important as we think. They understand our desires, dreams, and aspirations, and can present the spiritual message in a way that resonates with us.

That’s why some devotees’ words may enter our hearts more easily than others. We might hear the same message from different devotees, but some will speak in a way that connects with us immediately, while others may not have the same impact.

Being “like-minded” means that someone’s mind works in a similar way to ours, but they are more advanced on the spiritual path. Through their association, we can begin to appreciate Krishna Consciousness as more valuable than what we currently value.

Another way to get convinced is through personal experience. If we value something right now, but it lets us down, we may start to realize its true worth. For example, I once met a devotee from Zimbabwe, where the economy had gone through significant ups and downs. He shared a story of how, at one point, the currency had depreciated so much that he had to bring a bucket full of Zimbabwean currency notes to buy bread. The shopkeeper threw away the notes and took the bucket in exchange for the bread.

What was once considered valuable became worthless due to depreciation. Sometimes, we find that something we valued highly isn’t as important as we thought. This realization can help us understand that material things are temporary, and Krishna Consciousness is more valuable.

Organic renunciation is also an important concept. The way we think at the age of 15 or 20 is different from how we think at 40, 45, or 60. Many of us may need to go through certain life experiences before we fully appreciate the value of spirituality. As we progress through life’s various stages and ashrams, we may begin to understand the value of Krishna Consciousness more deeply.

At the very least, even if we don’t feel that Krishna Consciousness is “5 million dollars” right now, we can at least recognize that it is valuable. We may not fully grasp its worth at first, but with practice, our understanding will deepen. Advancing in Krishna Consciousness essentially means increasing our appreciation of Krishna Consciousness.

As we continue to practice, our understanding and appreciation will grow. Even if we can’t digest everything right away, by associating with devotees and hearing the philosophy, the value of Krishna Consciousness will become more apparent over time.

I once gave a class at the Bhakti Center in New York on centering our life on Krishna. People come to Krishna for various reasons — social, psychological, cultural, or intellectual needs. Some seek community and belonging, some want to pass on their culture, some come for peace of mind, and others for answers to their questions. Regardless of why we come, sooner or later, that reason will be challenged.

For example, if we come to Krishna because the devotee community is caring, but later experience unkindness, we may start questioning the value of the community. One devotee once said, “When I first came, devotees fed me five pakoras, but now they are frying me like a pakora!” The point is that the very thing that brought us to Krishna may become our challenge. But if we hold on to Krishna despite this, we strengthen our connection.

Even Draupadi, in her distress, turned to Krishna when no one else could help her. She didn’t reject her husbands, but she sought Krishna’s shelter when she needed it most. Sometimes, we must let go of the things that initially drew us to Krishna in order to hold on to Krishna Himself.

As we go through these experiences, we may find that we value different aspects of Krishna bhakti or eventually appreciate the core of it. It’s an incremental process. We may come for one reason, but as we progress, we come to value the essence of Krishna Consciousness itself.

I hope that answers your question. Thank you very much.