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Uma Haimavati, the Mother of the Nation
Sister Nivedita
The very word ‘ mother” is held to be sacred, and good men offer it to good women for their protection. There is no timely service that may not be rendered to one, however young or beautiful, by the passing stranger, if only he first address her thus. Even a father, looking at some small daughter, and struggling to express the mystery of futurity that he beholds in her, may address her as “little mother.” And the mother of the nation, Uma Haimavati, is portrayed always as a child, thought of always as a daughter of the house. In motherhood alone does marriage become holy; without it, the mere indulgence of affection has no right to be. This is the true secret of the longing for children. And to reach that height of worship in which the husband feels his wife to be his mother, is at once to crown and end all lower ties.
Who that has ever watched it can forget a Hindu woman’s worship of the Holy Child? A small brass image of the Baby Krishna lies, or kneels at play, in a tiny cot, and through the hours of morning, after her bath and before her cooking, the woman, who may or mav not herself be wife and mother, sits offering to this image flowers and the water of the bath, fruits, sweets, and other things—her oblations interspersed with constant acts of meditation and silent ptayer. She is striving to worship God as the Child Saviour, struggling to think of herself as the Mother of God. She is ready enough to give her reason, if we ask her. “Does my feeling for my children change according to what they do for me?” she questions in return: “Even so should one love God. Mothers love most those who need most. Even so should one love God.” The simple answer is worth a world of theology. Nor is it forgotten presently that the other children, made of flesh and blood, and answering to her call, are likewise His images. In every moment of feeding, or training, or play, of serving or using or enjoying, she may make her dealing with these an act of devotion. It was her object, during the hours of worship, to come face to face with the Universal Self. Has she done this, or has she brooded over the ideal sentiment till she has made of herself the perfect mother?
By her child, again, her intention can never be doubted. She may turn on him now a smile and then a face of sorrow, now a word of praise and again an indignant reproach. But always, equally, she remains the mother. The heart of hearts of her deed is unfailing love. She knows well, too, that nothing her babies do can mean anything else. The sunny and the petulant, the obedient and the wilful, are only seeking so many different ways to express a self-same dependence. To each she accords the welcome of his own nature. In such a reconciliation of opposites, in such a dis¬ covery of unity in variety, lies the whole effort and trend of Eastern religion.
For what thought is it that speaks supremely to India in the great word “Mother”? Is it not the vision of a love that never seeks to possess, that is, content simply to be—a giving that could not wish return: a radiance that we do not even dream of grasping, but in which we are content to bask, letting the eternal sunshine play around and through us?
Those of us who feel that the search after God is the be-all-and-end-all of human life—that the wise person, the person of fullest living, is he or she who cries out, with the whole soul in the cry, “Like as the hart pants after the waterbrooks, so pants my soul after Thee, O God”. We who believe this will see in national customs, in national history, in national ways of viewing things, only one or other mantle in which to clothe the apprehension of the Divine. It was so that the Semite, dreaming of God in the moment of highest rapture, called him “Our Father,” and the European, striving to add the true complement to God as the Child, saw bending over Him that Glorified Maiden whom he knew as “Our Lady.”
But in India, the conception of woman is simpler, more personal and more complete. For India, there is one relationship that makes the home—that makes sanctity—that enters into every fibre of the being, and it is not Fatherhood. What wonder that in India God’s tenderest name is Mother?
KALI THE MOTHER
The stars are blotted out,
The clouds are covering clouds,
It is darkness vibrant, sonant.
In the roaring, whirling wind
Are the souls of a million lunatics
Just loose from the prison-house,
Wrenching trees by the roots,
Sweeping all from the path.
The sea has joined the fray,
And swirls up mountain-waves,
To reach the pitchy sky.
The flash of lurid light
Reveals on every side
A thousand, thousand shades
Of Death begrimed and black —
Scattering plagues and sorrows,
Dancing mad with joy,
Come, Mother, come!
For Terror is Thy name,
Death is in Thy breath,
And every shaking step
Destroys a world for e’er.
Thou “Time”, the All-Destroyer!
Come, O Mother, come!
Who dares misery love,
And hug the form of Death,
Dance in Destruction’s dance,
To him the Mother comes.
Swami Vivekananda
Thoughts
Kees Boukema
‘Has humanity lost its mind, or have we never had it? Never before has so much information been available and so widely accessible as it is today. Yet all kinds of nonsensical conspiracy theories are circulating, the human role in current climate change is denied and vaccination skepticism, quackery and religious extremism are no longer ‘fringe phenomena’. There is now – perhaps more than ever – an urgent need for clear thinking. Fortunately, we are also witnessing many encouraging examples of human ingenuity and common sense, such as the reduction of poverty, the rapid development of vaccines against covid-19 and the increasingly widely shared insight into the harmfulness and unreasonableness of racism, misogyny and homophobia.’ Thus (too briefly) summarized, Julian Baggini in the introduction to his recently published book: “How to Think Like a Philosopher”, (London, 2023; Dutch translation, 2024). According to Baggini, we can learn a lot from philosophers to learn how to think better. They have been considered specialists in healthy thinking for millennia. Other scientific disciplines have concrete evidence for their claims. Physicists perform experiments, economists have their ‘data’, historians have documents and artefacts. Philosophers have no special source of information. Their unique skill is thinking ‘without a safety net’.
Learning the rules of logical deduction, avoiding errors and fallacies and knowing the difference between the inductive and abductive method of thinking is all important, but it is not enough. A philosopher must, above all, acquire a certain ‘mentality’. In this, the best philosophers distinguish themselves from those who master the logical arsenal but lack insight. It is a virtue in the sense of classical Greek philosophy: habits and a character that are conducive to a good way of living and thinking, such as open attention, attentiveness and modesty. In his reflections, Baggini refers not only to twelve conversations he had with contemporary philosophers, but also to the great philosophical works of all times. He derives most of his examples from the Western philosophical tradition in which he was trained, but the principles at stake are universal, as is evident from occasional references to philosophers from the rest of the world. An interesting example of this can be found in chapter 8: ‘Know what matters’. In philosophical debate, it is important to be able to put yourself in the shoes of the person with whom you disagree. For example, try to understand why certain matters that you attach little value to are important to the other person. Sometimes it turns out that a difference of opinion about facts is actually a difference of opinion about values. In this context, Baggini brings up an old Sanskrit text: the Nyaya Sutras of Aksapada Gautama, written between the sixth and second century BC. This text contains a number of basic rules for debate. A distinction is made between, on the one hand, a debate in which it is about ‘winning’ and, on the other hand, a ‘good’ or ‘sincere’ debate, which is aimed at ‘finding the truth’. On the one hand, fallacies, fallacies and debate tricks used by those who are not looking for true knowledge and, on the other hand, correct argumentation that leads to true knowledge. Gautama saw that in debate, ‘winning’ too often comes first.
In contemporary academic philosophy, it is not much different, writes Baggini. People are often out to outdo the other instead of understanding. Nobody wants to be the loser. Once you have taken a position, the desire to prove yourself right is often stronger than the need to find out how things really are.
Our urge to compete sometimes leads us to look for the weak points in the other person’s position, instead of asking ourselves whether his arguments might be valid. In the millennia-old Indian tradition of formal debate, participants had to focus on the strong arguments of their interlocutor and sometimes even take on the role of ‘devil’s advocate’.
Baggini gives a recent example: ‘The opposition to the mandatory anti-corona vaccination’. Opponents claimed that this legal obligation would be a violation of human rights, an infringement of our physical integrity, abuse. But the obligation to vaccinate does not mean that people could possibly be physically forced to get vaccinated, but means that if you choose not to get vaccinated, your freedom of movement will be restricted and, in extreme cases, a fine can be imposed. That this would be in conflict with human rights is difficult to prove. It is much easier to cry out that this is abuse. It can be good to look at an issue from the other person’s point of view. We tend to associate with people who are like us, to consult media that agree with our views, and to delve more deeply into information that confirms our opinions than into data that refute them. We should view the debate as an attempt to arrive at the truth together, not as a competition with a winner and a loser.
We can follow the other person’s train of thought better if we understand why the other person claims something. Empathy, putting yourself in someone else’s shoes, is a virtue. Understanding what someone else believes and why they cling to that belief is a form of ‘cognitive empathy’. Can you go too far in this? Is there a limit to the respect you should have for the other person’s point of view? “Yes!” said biologist and notorious atheist Daniel Dennett after his debate with Christian philosopher Alvin Plantinga: “It is of course not polite to ask someone, ‘Have you ever wondered if you have been deluding yourself all your life?’ But it is a good question, even if it is hurtful. Some people need a splash of cold water in their face; others need to be treated with kindness.” Many atheists who investigate religious belief conclude that belief is not based on reason or experience. They therefore conclude that it is all nonsense. “If that is so clear,” asks Baggini, “why do so many people believe, even if they are not idiots?” An investigation into why people believe and what it means to have a belief is more constructive than investigating whether a religious belief is ‘true’. An investigation in this vein can teach us to what extent religious belief is based on subjective experience and is more mythological in nature than literally true. a faith that accepts mystery and paradox. There are times when we need confidence and conviction, but when we are trying to think as clearly as possible, sometimes the lack of it is a virtue rather than a vice. “The best philosophers,” according to Baggini, “are those who are prepared to question not only their own abilities but the value of philosophy itself.”
Mr Kees Boukema is a scholar in Vedanta and Comparative philosophy. His brilliant and thorough-going articles on various philosophical and spiritual subjects are being published since the first issue of the magazine. His latest work is De Beoefening van Meditatie.
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The Koan of Katsumoto
[concluding part]
Paulo J. Bittencourt
Professor at UFFS, Erechim Campus
Martial arts practitioners who devote themselves to them in order to learn how to “take a beating with dignity” bring with them a valuable “insight”. On a smaller scale, perhaps, they echo the same spirit of Bushido’s full experience in the face of death. It is worth mentioning here the scene in which Nathan Algren, in “The Last Samurai”, in a fight with the “bokken”, the wooden sword used in kenjutsu training, is knocked down by successive blows delivered by the samurai Sanada, but insists on getting up, despite being harassed by pain and exhaustion. Gandhi also acts in a very similar way in South Africa, when he is persistently attacked by the racist police during a protest to burn segregationist public transport passes, without, however, failing to disobey the aggressor. These are all cases in which falling on his feet, even when faced with the inevitable fall from the sky, became an act of peaceful resistance. But the figure I really want to highlight is not directly explained by Katsumoto’s words.
Already on the field of the fateful battle against the imperial forces that would lead to the death of the samurai and his fighters, Katsumoto, dying from the wounds he received, reaches for his sword to take his own life. Algren wants to stop him, but Katsumoto replies: “You have your honor again. Let me die with mine.” Algren accepts the inevitable, and takes the samurai’s sword from Katsumoto to help him commit suicide that will restore his honor: “Are you ready? I will miss our conversations.” With the blow struck together by both, eye to eye, Katsumoto dies embracing Algren. The simple presence that supports in loving silence the death that, therefore, will be less lonely, seems like a gift to which we pay little attention. The scene is of overwhelming sensitivity.
Then Katsumoto, dying, sees the cherry blossoms blown away by the wind, when he utters his last words: “Perfect! They are all perfect!” This is the last line of his poem, which, written at his own death, emerged as the resolution of a “koan”. The “koan” consists of a formulation presented by masters to their disciples so that they can transcend the logical mind in order to penetrate the essence of Buddha’s teachings. A typical example of a “koan” is the formula “When two hands clap we have a sound. What is the sound of one hand?” The Rinzai (or “abrupt”) School of the Zen tradition uses the “koan” method as the basis of its practices. In periodic sessions of formal interviews, called “sanzen”, disciples are asked to explain their vision of the “koan” they are trying to solve. The resolution of a koan demands long periods of intense concentration, in many cases a lifetime, and leads the aspirant to the sudden insight of satori, the immediate experience of the Buddha nature and of all things.
I maintain, again, that Katsumoto’s metaphorical or literal koan was his own incomplete poem set forth in the first scene to which I alluded. If so, the last line was its resolution, accomplished in Katsumoto’s own “life-death” beyond all duality. Here the worthy life became worthy death, and the worthy death became worthy life. If, in the slow agony of waiting for their executions, Boethius and March Bloch nobly left us true intellectual testaments – respectively, the classics “The Consolation of Philosophy” and “Apology of History” –, Katsumoto fully expressed, through the concise and intuitive form that Japanese poetry consecrated, the lightning flash of “satori”, the enlightenment. Poetry, then, is composed in the flesh of the enlightened life that yearns for death. The samurai, then, died as he lived, and the circle of the Warrior’s Path was completed.
Just as the Chinese character “Nameless” (Jet Li), in the film “Hero” (2002), glimpses the ideal of the peaceful warrior and the interdependence of all that exists in the calligraphy on the sand of the word “Tanxia” (“All under the sky” or “Our Land”), Katsumoto’s Bushido contains within itself the perfection of cherry blossoms. The duality that previously underlay the vain search for the most perfect flowering in distinction from the others is subsumed in the unity of all of them.
“Perfect! They are all perfect!”
Professor Paulo Bittencourt is a brilliant teacher of Ancient and Medieval History at the Universidade Federal da Fronteira Sul UFFS [Erechim Campus], Brazil. He contributes articles regularly, and is a columnist of a periodical too. He has several books to his credit. He is an ardent student of Vedanta.
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What is Perfectionism
Setting the bar high, wanting to perform to the maximum, wanting to excel, having high demands, having to be the best, sweetest, smartest, prettiest or funniest: this will sound familiar to anyone who is a perfectionist. Perfectionism means striving for perfection, literally wanting to do it perfectly.
Difference between men and women
Perfectionist people never go for a six and they don’t really cheer when they get an eight. They have to get a ten, they are not 100 percent satisfied with less. They are demanding and strict, especially for themselves.
There is a difference between men and women in this respect, as research shows: women mainly set high demands on themselves, men mainly do that (also) on the people around them.
Quality
A further characteristic of perfectionists is that they see their own perfectionism as a good characteristic, as a quality. They should therefore not even think about throwing their hat (a little) at it.
Characteristics of perfectionism
Strong points of perfectionist behaviour:
disciplined;
great drive;
diligent;
very accurate;
high morale;
ambitious;
great sense of responsibility.
Weak points of perfectionist behavior:
bad at making mistakes;
high stress level;
difficulty delegating;
redoing things that others have already done;
focusing on what is not going so well;
not really enjoying successes;
having difficulty deciding that something is ‘finished’, therefore slow;
critical of oneself and others;
having difficulty letting go of failures;
judgmental;
great competitive urge;
fear of failure.
Is perfectionism unhealthy?
Risks
Some psychologists believe that perfectionism is always unhealthy. And perfectionists do indeed suffer more than average from anxiety, stress, burnout and depression, because they are never really satisfied with themselves. They even run a higher risk of addiction and suicide.
A perfectionist is difficult for themselves, but also for those around them. Especially if you have to work with someone who wants to do everything perfectly and has difficulty settling for less. A major pitfall is that perfectionism sometimes leads to enormous fear of failure, which means that someone no longer dares to tackle anything at all.
Advantages
But perfectionism also has advantages. You probably have to be a perfectionist if you are a top athlete, classical musician, heart surgeon, accountant, secretary, software developer or top lawyer. If these types of people do not strive for perfection, we not only miss out on a lot, but a lot also goes wrong.
Positive perfectionist behavior is seeing mistakes and criticism as something you can learn from. You also need to know what the highest attainable goal is and when you should stop perfecting. In addition, a healthy perfectionist realizes that it is impossible to be a perfectionist in all areas.
Two types
Joachim Stoeber, professor of psychology at the University of Kent, distinguishes two types of perfectionism:
non-adaptive perfectionism
A non-adaptive perfectionist wants to reach the top, but is constantly tormented by the fear of failure.
adaptive perfectionism
An adapted perfectionist also wants to achieve high goals, but is not discouraged if this does not work out.
From Psychologie Magazine
Contributed by Francis van Schaik
Francis van Schaik is a coach of young people and also a student of human relationships with nature, the world and Truth. She regularly contributes to our online magazine. Francis is the regular contributor of articles in this page.
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Swami Saradananda Speaks
The Guru Gita says: “If God is displeased with a person, he can please God again through devotion to the guru, but if the guru is displeased, no one can help that person to transcend the terrible darkness of maya. For this reason Sri Ramakrishna said to his westernized young disciples (pointing to his own body): “Look! This body is only a case, and while he holds it, the ever-conscious blissful Mother is teaching people. Therefore, those who come to me will touch me, and serve me, will be inspired and will soon realize God. But serve me with special love and care.
If you do not show me respect, I will not be angry with you. But the Mother who is within me, if she is neglected, hisses at you, you will suffer. Once a bohemian devotee of Sri Ramakrishna was disgusted with his shameful life. He could not bear his pain and mental despair, so left. he released his tension by saying insulting words about the Master. When Sri Ramakrishna heard about it, he became concerned about the devotee and lovingly said, ” Let him say whatever he wants to me. Has he said anything to the person within me? I hope he has not said those insulting words to my Blessed Mother.
We think that we are very weak, and that is a great defect in us. The more we think in this way, the weaker we become!!!
Such an attitude is as harmful as pride. Both are hindrances to real progress and must be avoided!!! This is what Sri Ramakrishna used to say. Once the Holy Bible was read to him. From the very beginning, there were references to the doctrine of sin. After he had heard a little and found that it spoke of nothing but sin, he refused to listen to it any more. He used to say, ” Just as in the case of a snake bite, if the patient can be convinced to believe that there is no poison at all, he will be all right. Similarly, if one constantly thinks, “I have invoked the name of the Lord, so I am sinless,” one becomes pure.’
The more we give up ideas like I am sinful, ‘ ‘I am weak,’ the better for us. Almighty God dwells in man. We are part of God. We are His children. How can we be weak? Our strength comes from Him. We can never be weak. So the greatest sin is to consider yourself weak and sinful!!!
Is it possible to realize the Truth while living the life of a householder?
Many people think that when one gets married and has a family, it is almost impossible to practice self-control. That is completely wrong. What prevents a householder from controlling his senses? Sri Ramakrishna used to say, ‘Make your mind and speech one and you will achieve everything.’
Do not restrict it (spiritual practice) to control the senses. Many other excellent qualities will manifest in your life. ”
Sri Ramakrishna always said that all his spiritual achievements were for the benefit of others. If people would do 1/16th of what he did, they would be blessed. Therefore he took upon himself the responsibilities of married life and exemplified the noble ideal of a householder.
Mary Saaleman is a devotee of Mother Sarada and Sri Ramakrishna since decades. She translates selections from books like The Master as we Saw Him and presents snippets about the disciples of Sri Ramakrishna.
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Surrender to Sri Ramakrishna
Swami Shivananda
In the course of a serious discussion with a monk about the Math and Mission, Mahapurushji remarked: ‘“Truth alone triumphs and not untruth.” Truth has always been victorious, my son, and it always will be. This is all divine play. After leaving the gross body, the Master now lives in this sangha (this Order of monks). Now, he lives as the sangha. This is what Swamiji (Swami Vivekananda) said. That you and all the devotees of the Master have gathered here from far-off centres will certainly bear some auspicious result. ‘The Master is still protecting this sangha; and by creating a little stir now and then, he lets us know that he will protect it in future also. It was at the behest of the Master himself that Swamiji established this sangha; and he placed on it the onerous duty of spreading the Master’s universal religious ideas throughout the world. Rest assured that nobody will be able to harm this organization. Even if somebody comes with hostile ideas, the Master will change his mind. He will make all understand the true spirit, maybe even through opposing circumstances. Men with their limited intellects are naturally liable to commit errors; but he is merciful to all. Sinner or sufferer, nobody is outside the pale of his grace. Has not Swamiji declared—‘the current of whose love flows uninterruptedly down to the lowest pariah” ? He forgives all. It is to save all, down to the pariah, that he came down as Sri Ramakrishna.
‘That supreme Brahman Itself has now come down as Sri Ramakrishna. We have seen with our own eyes how infinite was his forgiveness, how wonderful was his mercy. As for the Holy Mother, there can be no comparison with her—she is none other than the Mother of the universe. I have even heard it related that, when someone came and reported to her that somebody had committed the most unmentionable and damnable crime, the Mother heard the whole report very gravely. Then the reporter requested the Mother: “If you summon him and take him to task a little, it will be good.” To this, she replied : “My son, it is all very well for you to talk like that, but I am his mother. To you he may be an offender and detestable, but to his mother he is not so. Being his mother, ‘can I hate my son?” So wonderful was her forgiveness! All these things have happened before our eyes. That is what we too have learnt. We have to learn all these from the lives: of the Master, the Holy Mother, and Swamiji.’
Snippets from Swami Vivekananda
Strength, strength is what the Upanishads speak to me from every page. This is the one great thing to remember, it has been the one great lesson I have been taught in my life; strength, it says, strength, O man, be not weak. Are there no human weaknesses? — says man. There are, say the Upanishads, but will more weakness heal them, would you try to wash dirt with dirt? Will sin cure sin, weakness cure weakness? Strength, O man, strength, say the Upanishads, stand up and be strong.
You speak of matter, the whole universe as one mass, one ocean of matter, in which you and I, the sun and the moon, and everything else are but the names of different little whirlpools and nothing more. Mentally speaking, it is one universal ocean of thought in which you and I are similar little whirlpools; and as spirit it moveth not, it changeth not. It is the One Unchangeable, Unbroken, Homogeneous Atman.
Let me tell you, strength, strength is what we want. And the first step in getting strength is to uphold the Upanishads, and believe — “I am the Soul”, “Me the sword cannot cut; nor weapons pierce; me the fire cannot burn; me the air cannot dry; I am the Omnipotent, I am the Omniscient.” So repeat these blessed, saving words. Do not say we are weak; we can do anything and everything. What can we not do? Everything can be done by us.