Thursday, 14 May 2026

Lesson 11 CHAPTER IV: Jnana Yoga, Unitive Wisdom, 1-11

 A few of you uncovered my birthday—thanks for the good

wishes. I’m 75 as of today, May 9, and holding the class is a major

joy of my senescence. I hope you quiet ones are getting something

out of the course, too. I did hear from Puja she is reading along, a

nice surprise. Good wishes to everyone!

Bindu

When I reflect on my life, I realise that many of my early choices

were not truly my own. I never consciously chose to come to

London. Instead, I followed the path shaped by tradition, family

expectations, and social norms.

I grew up in a culture where arranged marriage was the norm.

When my parents accepted a proposal from a family in London, I

went along with it without question. However, when the groom

came to see me, he rejected me, saying I was “a bit chubby” and

wanted someone better suited. In a small village where everyone

knows one another, this news spread quickly. The same people

who knew my marriage was fixed also knew it was rejected. It was

deeply humiliating.

I had lived according to what I believed was a “right”

way—respectful, God-fearing, and obedient to social

expectations—yet I still faced rejection. This experience created a

shift within me. Although better proposals came afterward, I

rejected them. Looking back, I can see that I was reacting from

hurt and anger—perhaps toward my parents for rushing into the

situation, and perhaps toward the circumstances that interrupted

my education.

At that time, my parents strongly believed in astrology and felt I

should marry between the ages of 18 and 20, so they were eager to


proceed with proposals. But internally, something had changed in

me. I withdrew and resisted.

Then, within three months, my husband’s proposal came. In

hindsight, I feel I may have accepted it partly as a way of escaping

the shame I experienced. When he accepted me, I remember

thinking, in my 20-year-old mind, that he was more handsome than

the one who had rejected me. It felt like a turning point, and within

ten days, we were married.

This may seem unusual to some, but in 1990s Varkala, this was

normal. Marriages were arranged, and love often followed

marriage rather than preceded it.

Looking back now, I understand that I did not choose London out

of desire or ambition. I chose it as a way to restore my self-respect.

I was young, not yet wise, even though I was completing a

mathematics degree. I was not thinking deeply about my future—I

was reacting to pain.

When I arrived in London, I entered an unfamiliar world. Apart

from my husband’s family, I had no support system. I struggled

with language, pronunciation, and cultural differences. At 21, I

became a mother while still adjusting to a new country. Life

moved quickly, and I adapted as best as I could.

Reflecting on the statement from the Gita, “When ignorance

attains power, truth becomes its greatest threat,” I see elements of

that in my past. I was not aware enough to question the path laid

out for me. I followed what was considered right without fully

understanding whether it was right for me. The social structure I

lived in did not encourage individual questioning, and in that

sense, truth—personal truth—remained hidden.

At the same time, I do not view my husband as part of that

ignorance. For me, he came at the right moment, almost like a


form of grace, helping me move beyond a painful phase in my life.

What began as an escape gradually became a pathway for growth.

Over time, London, which I once felt I had not chosen, became

part of my identity. I often think of it as a stepmother—sometimes

harsh, sometimes nurturing, but still shaping who I am. I continue

to balance different values from family, culture, and work, learning

as I go.

The Gita’s idea that “what is coming at you is coming from

you” has made me reflect on responsibility. I no longer see myself

as a victim of circumstances, but I also try not to blame myself

harshly for decisions made without awareness. Instead, I recognise

that I was acting from the level of understanding I had at that time.

Now, I see my life as a gradual movement from:

 following without questioning,

 to reacting from emotion,

 to beginning to reflect and choose consciously.

Joining this class is part of that journey. For the first time, I feel I

am not just accepting ideas or reacting to situations, but truly

trying to understand myself. In that sense, I relate deeply to the

idea of “wisdom sacrifice” from Chapter IV—the effort to seek

understanding and strip away what is unnecessary.

I may not have chosen my path consciously in the beginning, but

now I am beginning to choose awareness. And perhaps that is

where true freedom starts.

Love Bindu x

Scott: Yes, Bindu, we humans stumble through life, suffering

many slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, yet somehow most

of us eventually knit together into a substantial being, with a

capacity to heal or harm those around us as we make our way


forward. I find it helpful to realize others are as in the dark as I am,

so I don’t put them on a pedestal or grant them powers over me

they don’t actually have.

Apparently, love marriages began with the movies, and have

been around only about 100 years. Their success rate is no better

than arranged marriages, from what I’ve read. The whole

partnering business is a fantasy tempest inching fitfully toward

reality. No matter what road we take, life is a struggle to come into

our own. It sounds like you have been both fortunate and skillful,

Bindu.

The best is that if you do wake up to your life, you are

satisfied how it turned out, and can laugh at what a fool you’ve

been. (I’m speaking of myself, primarily. We all make plenty of

mistakes, and they bounce off each other.) The Gita is a

masterwork that will help many of your intimations fall into a

sensible order. As you identify with the wisdom sacrifice, you’re

already well along in assimilating its message.

Well said, how you see your life: none of us choose our path

early on, and it’s very lucky we don’t get the chance. When we’re

ready, we can take over some of the guidance, and take other hands

off our steering wheel.

Guru Nitya often told us that our “inner guru” arranged the

world to promote expression of our latent abilities. I find that an

uplifting metaphor, with a lot of truth in it. We don’t, then, have to

paddle our own canoe, all we have to do is help it along with a few

strokes, and watch where it’s taking us. Bindu, you have every

reason to give your inner guru a lot of credit—it’s done very well

by you.


Gopica

My reflections on verses 1 to 11 of Chapter 4. These verses speak

about how true wisdom is not just information, but knowing how


to act with clarity, humility, and faith. I can see this in a recent

experience at work.

Verse 1–2 Wisdom comes from clear guidance

In these verses, Krishna says that wisdom is passed from one who

knows to one who listens with care. In my work, the leader guides

us, but sometimes the message is short and not fully clear. Instead

of reacting, I now try to ask a gentle question, to understand her

intention before acting. This helps me work with clarity, not

confusion.

Verses 3–4 Duty without ego

Arjuna asks who can truly understand this teaching. These verses

remind me that duty is about doing what is needed, not trying to

prove myself. The admin felt blamed for data that depended on

volunteers. Instead of taking it as “my fault” or “her fault,” I tried

to see it as a shared duty: help gather the data honestly, within

what is possible.

Verses 5–7 Acting in the present moment

Krishna says he appears whenever dharma declines. For me, this

means: respond in the present, not in fear. When only 3 out of 17

volunteers replied, I did not stay stuck in frustration. With the

admin, we called the others and gathered what was possible. We

did not wait for “perfect” data; we did what was right now.

Verses 8–11 Steadiness in action and relationship

Krishna says he acts to protect the good, remove what is harmful,

and re-establish balance. These verses help me stay steady when

things feel unfair. Earlier, I used to feel heavy or confused with the

leader’s feedback. Now I try to listen, reflect, and act with clarity. I

also respond with empathy, not anger.

There was a situation where the leader asked me to work with the

admin, then later her message was a little unclear. I did what I


understood, admitted that it was based on my understanding, and

shared it openly. She replied “thank you” and asked to integrate the

data. This shows that honest action, even in confusion, can still

support harmony.

My admin, often says, “inspite of her giving 100% effort, she at

times accused” and feels hurt. I gently asked her, “Can anyone

really meet 100% of another person’s expectations, especially what

is not in our control?” I invited her to focus on what is in our

control: doing our best, learning from what comes, and staying

kind to ourselves and others. She felt more relaxed after that.

Scott: It sounds like you are more of the guru to your admin,

Gopica, than she is to you. You’ve handled a tough situation well,

and I really like the way you have applied the ancient wording to

present-day issues.

Clarity gained through questioning is so central to life, it’s

too bad many people are over-sensitive to being questioned.

Because of your example, I searched through Guru Nitya’s

Selected Quotes (available on his website

http://aranya.me/read.html . So many amazing treasures of

wisdom! The main point is the disciple must ask good questions, in

a respectful manner. Just what you’ve demonstrated.


The relation between a question and its answer is analogous to

the relation between a disciple and Guru. A silly question can

evoke only a commonplace answer, while a serious question, in

its turn, can open up rare secrets. Each disciple gets, as it were,

a Guru according to their own merit. (Gita, 13)

After humbling yourself, you should look for an opportunity

where the guru is pleased to narrate. But beyond that the

reverence stops. Thereafter, you put searching questions to the

guru. You are not to just sit there like a dunce; you must ask


searching questions. And when he or she speaks, you are not to

lie down and accept it at face value, but you must critically

examine every word. Scrutinize all that is said. Then afterwards

you do what you like according to your best understanding, not

what the guru likes. (Therapy and Realization in the Bhagavad

Gita)

Many questions stem from their answers. So if we wait for

some time, the questions will transmute into their answers.

(Love and Blessings, 426)

The seeker and the seer are on the same path. All the same they

are not the same kind of beneficiaries of wisdom. The seer has

solved age-old riddles in his or her heart. The seeker again and

again gets lost on the slippery pathway to certitude. The quality

of life is decided by how happy you are, how consistently you

are happy, and how you are established in that happiness.

Those who lack this excellence are always haunted by the

questions: “What next? Where should I turn? Who can I

approach? How can it be accomplished? How can I know that

what I seek is truly what I need or what I want?” From the

examples of those who have gone before us, we discover that in

most cases those who have succeeded had someone to guide

them, someone to hold their hand with compassion. The

successful have been led to the sanctuary of satisfaction where

there is no longer any remorse or sense of inadequacy. The

masters who lead the seekers are called preceptors of wisdom.

(Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, Vol. III, 433)

Bailey

OMG  Scott!  “When ignorance attains to power, truth is its

biggest threat…. Because of this, truth seekers are marginalized

virtually everywhere.” How true is this of the culture you inhabit,

if any?”  er, did this prompt just come to you out of the


blue?  Those who worship ignorance, the Isa Upanishad assures us,

enter a realm of blind darkness—but “truth” seems hardly to daunt

them.  Or rather, for Demonic Donald, “truth” seems to mean

whatever he says it means at a particular moment.  It does seem

emphatically the case that “truth seekers”, in regard to the

Absolute as well as managing our vulnerable and menaced

everyday world, are marginalized, at any rate that seems to be

Power’s plan.  In the culture I inhabited, by choice aided by luck,

most of my life, truth was the lodestar for many of us, and that

remains true of my colleagues in the universities, those I know

somewhat.  But we are under assault by the power-worshippers

driven by ambition and greed, themselves nourished by resentment

and ignorance.  How to understand this? Watching a Neflix

documentary on WWII offers a kind of knowledge that does not

encourage the faith in Reason and Progress bequeathed us by the

Enlightenment.  Grinning young German soldiers, healthy well-fed

and confident, advancing into Russia in the summer of 1941,

filmed as they obey orders to shoot down Jews and other

subhumans, to set fire to their homes and farms.  They don’t look

so happy and confident at Stalingrad in the winter of ’42-43, but

still they mostly obey orders (the filmmakers show us an

exception, a soldier ordered to shoot a prisoner, who instead walks

him out of sight and lets him escape into the woods).  I have been

reading a lot, in the last couple of years, about world of the 1930’s

and 40s in Europe, the world of the growing-up, youth and early

maturity of my parents, the “cultures” –historical events,

economics, social realities, ideologies—of those years.  I could

teach a class, a whole semester of classes on that era, but would I

at the end of it understand more why those young soldier did the

things they did, why the ones still surviving in 1945 continued to

fight desperately in obedience to a deranged madman whose final

plan was to destroy as much as could be destroyed?  Into blind

darkness enter they...  indeed.  Sure, there were exceptions,

happily.  The Paris to which I shall return tomorrow has preserved

so much of its charm and historic beauty, its character, because the


German commander in August 1944 evaded and finally disobeyed

Hitler’s direct, oft-repeated orders, to burn the place down.  The

crack SS divisions who got those same orders, at the same time, in

regard to Warsaw carried them out with thorough, savage brutality

– while Stalin kept the Russian army in check 50 miles

away.  Meanwhile France was being liberated by the combined

efforts of the French themselves and the Allied armies (rather

astonishingly France quickly transitioned from a defeated,

occupied country to a partner ally which would take a judicial seat,

with the Americans, English and Soviets, to judge the Nazis at

Nuremberg).   

     Did Krishna incarnate, per verses 7 & 8, in some sense in those

times restoring righteousness, protecting the good, destroying evil

doers?  I’ve also been watching a new movie about Nuremberg,

where “crimes against humanity” began to have legal

existence.  We Americans have mostly in our lifetimes admired

Lincoln for defending the Union and ending slavery –and he

remains a symbol of what much of the world admires/has admired

about America in our lifetimes—is this “truth” too now under

threat?  

 

(chez KD (Kathleen) 28 Blvd St Denis, Paris April

30)   “Conscious living”/ “Deliberate living”.  ED emphasizes this

as key to Swamiji’s living/teaching. The stability of the self-

imposed pattern of his days once he became settled in the Ranchi

ashram in 1930 was rigorous, reliable, though subject to

adjustment with changing seasons (monsoon) or such

circumstances as the two visits to France arranged by his French

disciples.  Stabilitas is the key vow taken by monks of the Order of

Saint Benedict, like Thomas Merton, ever since the 6 th  century. A

useful prompt for me?  How can it be?  I am no monk!  Is not

impulsive living-in-the-moment-listening-for-guidance-by-that-

inner-voice (the key concept of the Quakers) more in accord with

my nature? Or is this thought among Ego’s master ploys?   


(May 4)  My nature. My destiny. My svadharma.  My

intention/intentions.  My choices (my question to Nataraja Guru at

New Year 1973: how to make choices?) What am I supposed to do

in/with my life? “Deliberate living”---oh, plunged am I, plunged I

have been since I got on the overnight plane a week ago and

opened a second-hand copy of Philip Roth’s novel The Human

Stain (2000) which I had impulsively bought for a dollar in the

Bloomington public library’s old-books-sell-off shop just before I

left.  Oh, I knew this to be as heavy-duty-as-delightfully-written-a-

novel, for I had read it before, on the 2001 trip to France when I

brought my 15-year-old daughter and 10-year-old son along to

discover my Europe with me.  And when they had returned to the

States with Christine and I settled into directing the Walhain

excavation I opened that then new-and-fresh novel (the story set in

1998) to relax evenings to read with growing delight.  Roth’s gift

as a writer: so serious and at the same time so funny.  This is the

time to reread it, Impulse said, so I grabbed it and here I sit shaking

my head in wonder at 2 AM in Paris, France.

     Coleman Silk, the protagonist, in his Freshman year at Howard

University when his father (by whose firm intention he was

enrolled in that university) abruptly dies, drops out of school and

acts decisively.  WWII is started: he joins the Navy, as a white

man.  Today we might shrug – mixed-race, big deal, but in those

days black and white was...black and white.  No joking, no

nuances. Some of Coleman’s forebears had been slaves in Georgia

not so many years ago but the paternal line moved north to New

Jersey and intermarried with Negro families which went back to

the 17 th  century, light-toned from generations of racial

mixing.  Coleman, energetic, disciplined, strong-willed as a teen-

ager takes up boxing-for-fun (well, it might be said, for character-

building); his Jewish teacher/trainer nudges him to fight-as-white

in a particular match which could have led to an athletic

scholarship in a major university, allowing him to “slip the punch”

of accepting a life in the officially inferior stratum of segregated

America.  Something his father, a man of unyielding principle,


would never allow.  So in Howard, the foremost historically black

college, Coleman is on the rails to life as a Negro, an identity

imposed on him by birth, as he sees it, against which his spirit

rebels: NOT CHOSEN BY ME.  Father suddenly not there, he

chooses the Navy and passing-for-white henceforth, and the

consequences of this choice over the rest of his life are the novel’s

major theme.  In the summer of 1998, after a distinguished career

as a Classical scholar professor, and Dean of elite old Athena

College in the Berkshire mountains of Western Massachusetts (my

own Williams College is clearly Roth’s model) he is estranged

from the college and the community where he had wielded such

power, been such a great teacher, as a result of an offhand phrase

used in class misinterpreted (to some extent understandably-if-

stupidly, to some extent opportunistically and maliciously) as

racist.  Roth is a prophet, here, of the turmoil in 21 st  century

America over “woke culture”, a term not yet invented and

cynically manipulated by the Right and Donald Trump.  But what

speaks to me here in our study is what to learn from Coleman

Silk’s drama about “deliberate living”, the nature of Truth, and the

consequences of the choices one makes.  

      For young Coleman, to accept an identity as “colored”, or

Negro, amounts to a Lie in regard to a preferred Truth that insists

he construct his own identity as an individual.  The ideal expressed

by the Victorian English poet Henley: “I am the master of my

fate/I am the captain of my soul” (Invictis).  His deliberate

rejection of that identity leads to cutting himself off from his own

family, and in order to invent the self and construct the future he

has decided upon, to invent himself as Jewish, to marry a Jewish

woman and pass along his invented story, this chosen identity, to

his own four children.  In pursuit of his own private Truth, to

entangle himself such a web of deceits that an accusation of

“racism” becomes his nemesis.  Just today in an article in the

French weekly L’Express, bought on impulse for the metro, the

French philosopher Julia de Funes explains: the error comes from

the insistence in our contemporary culture of putting identity in


place of principled, nuanced distinction.  It is one thing to affirm,

Coleman, that “race” ought not to matter (both laws and social

realities have changed so much since the 1940s that many more

people agree on that), another to hide the truth of your own racial

background.  The tragic issue of the path your choice(s) entailed is

made clear in this novel, as is its resonances with the tragic Greek

dramas you taught with great care, honesty and skill in your

career.  The heroic aspects of that deliberately chosen life are also

explored, with sensitivity, nuance and humor, by Philip Roth in a

novel which I consider worthy of a Nobel prize. Is it by chance that

a French philosopher waves to me as I pursue my path, savoring its

ironic wealth?  Perhaps, Nataraja Guru, I have not entirely

disregarded your advice?

     What does Krishna say?  “As each chooses to approach Me,

even accordingly do I have regard for him. My very path it is, O

Arjuna, that all men do tread from every (possible) approach.” (v

11)

      What has Gilles Farcet to say to us (Christine and me) a propos

our “inner ecology” in our morning spiritual reading? (9 AM

now)  Good resolutions, he asks us?  Problem is, the one who

resolves to take a healthy morning run is not the same as the one

who decides ten minutes later better to drink a coffee than to lace

up the running shoes.  We are not one, we are several, many.  Until

we are unified...  Until “the heart becomes like a stone”

(Yeats, Easter 1916), until young Silky the boxer becomes Dean

Silk... the many don’t agree.  Best, advises GF, to keep the

resolutions simple, as realist as possible. I hear Kathleen returning

from her early morning yoga.  Let us go down to Le Sully and sip

our café crème.

Scott: To be honest, Bailey, the quest for power and dominance is

a most typical urge of ignorance, and human history is littered with

its tragedies. Yet, that is a good quote, to shrink it down to a few

words. We are left to wonder if computer power isn’t the last

weapon needed to make ignorance a permanent condition. It’s


certainly a big help, and you have to credit the right wing for first

realizing its value for propaganda.

We didn’t expect to witness the apocalypse, did we? It

seemed like scare tactics, more than a warning of what to look out

for.

I don’t know that I have any consolation to offer, but I find

profound consolation in the Gita’s clear-headed philosophy. At

least it can help us stay sane while all those about us are losing

their heads. (I’m sure you know your Kipling, here paraphrased.)

You are finding the readings a stimulus for retrospection over

your life, it seems, and that’s a wonderful thing at a late stage like

ours. We hit a very sweet spot in history, and ardently hoped it

would last. Why would anyone prefer hatred and misery-making to

peace and love? And yet the appeal is irresistible. Darn! The movie

of our lives holds plenty of comedy and tragedy, suspense and

ennui, cleverness and stupidity. No boots stamped our faces,

endlessly. My drop in the bucket is to pass on a little of what a

very enlightened and kindhearted trio of gurus gifted all sentient

beings, and is already fading away. It’s too early to imagine what

comes next.

People our age watched a lot of documentaries on TV about

WWII in our childhoods, and it made us peace-lovers. I can still

picture some of the scenes, all in black and white. Soldiers frozen

stiff in Russia, as they walked, still upright, forging forward.

Impossible! Scenes out of hell, right here on earth.

We’d welcome Jesus or Krishna coming back into the world

and kicking ass, but I’m afraid it isn’t going to be that easy. I’m

happy to be proved wrong. There is an inherent balance in the

world, and it may be that humans have overstepped their bounds of

devastating our dear Mother, so our time is up. What “rough beast”

will replace us?

Th Roth book sounds fascinating; thanks for the synopsis.

As yogis, we know we can’t “fix” anything. we can only live

well and stand for reason and justice. Try to live up to XII,15: Be

one who does not disturb (the peace of) the world and (whose


peace) is not disturbed by the world, and who is free from

exaggerations of joy, hate and fear. Nothing to it.

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