I was thinking about the concept of persistence in spirituality, and this might actually be a more layered and important issue than anyone thinks.

You see, I was thinking about my mistakes, about why I made them, whether they were “unforced” or not, to use the tennis analogy, about what I could have done better, how I handled the fallout, and what’s the reason why I could essentially walk away without so much as missing a step.

The reason why I could “fail gracefully”, to use a programming analogy, is because I think like a scientist, which means that I understand that failure is always an option. Once you think you can’t possibly be wrong and all that is needed is persistence and diligence and the attainment of perfection is guaranteed, you are either an omnipotent and omniscient God, or a stupid cultist.

I was a zealot and a fanatic, but I was never a stupid cultist. The difference is, I was absolutely dedicated to attaining the ultimate goal, but I knew better than to assume I know what that ultimate goal is, which is why I could fail an arbitrary number of times and not lose a step – you see, my assumption was that I am lost, in the dark, with everything stacked against me, that everything I know about transcendental realities is based on very powerful experiences that were short, translated very poorly into concepts that can be intellectually processed by the human brain, that all the theory I had to work with is merely someone else’s attempt at making an intellectual system out of something his brain was as poorly suited for interpreting as mine, and even when I discovered mechanisms that work repeatedly and reliably and could be made into “spiritual technology”, I could hardly even attempt to explain the actual theory, the way scientists can tell you everything about how gravity works, but they know nothing about what gravity actually is, and how mass actually bends spacetime.

Sure, I always had some kind of a theory about how things work, what’s going on and where I seem to be heading, but I knew it was a theory; or a working hypothesis, to use scientific terms. You need to have some kind of a roadmap in your brain, and if you don’t, your brain will basically refuse to cooperate. However, the way my personal roadmap works is that I absolutely need to know what my next step needs to be. I need to know what to do at the next intersection. This is where my roadmap works the best. As things get less immediate, I care less about knowing details in any kind of a resolution. I don’t care about things some religious people seem to fuss over – how many wings and eyes does some type of angel have, does God have a throne, and similar nonsense. No, I understand that physical brain has limitations, and interpolating nonsense and pretending it’s resolution doesn’t contribute anything to the probability of actual spiritual achievement and success. What I need to know is whether meditation needs to be separate from all other activities or do I have to extend meditation into daily activities and basically make it the underlying state in everything I do. The latter; good, spend years perfecting that.

That’s why I am annoyed when some supposed Buddhists talk about renouncing Nirvana at the very beginning of their path, as if it were possible for a beginner to even know what Nirvana is and what it feels like, and as if it made any sense to accept or renounce something that might be the ultimate goal, from a position where you can’t even know anything for certain about realities three steps away from your current position.

That’s where we come to the issue of persistence. You can’t know whether persistence on your current path is good or bad if you don’t know your ultimate destination, because you’re in the process of learning. Yes, you are currently moving South, but you don’t know whether South is your ultimate destination, or merely a direction of the next important junction, where you will need to re-evaluate your entire situation because you learned something new and important. Essentially, your entire theory is good if it brings you to your first transcendental experience. Then you will know much more about higher realities, you will have something practical to check your theory with, and you will have fresh understanding that will make possible for you to learn new skills and acquire new abilities, making you into a whole new kind of being that can now understand things your previous version couldn’t even comprehend. When I think about this, I remember myself and other kids in the fourth grade trying to imagine what mathematics in higher education looks like, and all we could imagine was working the same basic operations but with bigger numbers. It turned out that bigger numbers were never a thing, and I learned something about expectations based on experience. Basically, what you need to worry about is the general trajectory, and doing the immediate next step properly, not the ultimate goal, not remaining faithful to the religion you started with. The idea that a religion will take care of you from beginning to end is incredibly naive; you will eventually experience something that will make your religion seem naive and superficial, and you will then either switch to something that explains your new experience better, or simply carve your own path into solid rock, if nothing else works. Sometimes there are no paved paths because you’re on your own, doing something nobody else did before, because that’s the trick with Creation – to believe that God created souls only so that they could all end up in the same place, or at least sorted in several known boxes, is to believe that the whole thing is essentially pointless. Also, since there’s a risk of failure, the reward for success must be something much greater than what you had in the beginning, or it would just not be worth it.

You can now say that making sure that the next step is on a generally positive trajectory is, in a sense that it leads to God, is paramount. Honestly, you’d have to be God in order to know what is on a generally positive trajectory. I’d rather trust God to guide my next step than try to figure out whether a negative present slope of the curve means I’m doing something wrong, or do I need to climb down a smaller mountain top before climbing a taller one, because I learned long ago that being in the driver’s seat while blind, drunk and not knowing how to drive is not the best thing, and in most cases having control over your situation just gives you enough rope to hang yourself. It is much better to just trust God with choosing the path, and take care of the immediate things that you can actually do well if you apply yourself to it.

So, yes, do the immediate next step like your ultimate destiny depends on it, and with absolute dedication and diligence. Also, understand that you’re not a train, you’re a leaf in the wind, and act accordingly – learn what God is trying to teach you and go where He leads you. Don’t be persistent, consistent or right. It’s not about being right, or about always maintaining the upward trajectory, because you’re not in a position to know. You’re in a position to keep your mind on God, and figure out how to make that next step so that you can still keep your mind on God. If you keep your mind on God and focus only on what you need to do, God is your ultimate trajectory. If you try to figure out the path, the trajectory and the ultimate goal, the illusory forces of this world control your path and your outcome. Basically, if you try to be in control of your path, you are ceding control to Satan, and the ego trip of being in control of your situation claims another sucker.

There’s another thing I thought of while writing the previous article, but I decided to separate it into another article due to its importance.

You see, spiritual experience usually begins on your own terms; your limitations, preconceptions and general qualities determine how you will allow God to approach you and be perceived. You are a set of hurdles God needs to jump over in order to be experienced, and what you will experience is going to be primarily determined by you – your limitations, your ability to conceptualise spirituality and God, and so on. You will approach God as Jesus, or heavenly Father, or Mother, or your friend. Your human condition determines almost the entirety of the “interface”; everything is taking place on “your ground” and on “your terms”.

However, if you are to make spiritual progress beyond this initial phase, you must transcend your human conditioning and meet God progressively on his terms. This is when things get very hard to describe in terms that will mean anything to humans, which is why I don’t even try, instead choosing to put everything in terms very much resembling a fairy tale – something that’s of course not true or real, but conveys a message that is very much real, and I would rather be understood than formally accurate.

What does it mean to meet something on its own terms? It means to feel the spiritual state of a tree the way the tree itself perceives existence. It means to feel another being the way this being perceives from within itself. It means perceiving a spiritual being’s inner consciousness and position, and understanding how it exists, and what it is in itself. It means not drawing Sun with a smile because it makes you feel happy, like children do, and not thinking God is love because God’s presence makes you feel loved.

You start from your human condition and limitations, but if you fail to transcend it, it’s not a journey. It’s stagnation on square one. If you keep forcing God to meet you on your terms, and fail to transcend yourself and your conditioning in order to start meeting God progressively more on his terms, what are you even accomplishing?

Thinking about all those supposed issues that turned out to be non-issues in spiritual practice, such as eating meat or whatever, there certainly are things I encountered that turned out to be harmful, in the sense that they inhibit spiritual advancement or even produce spiritual degradation. So, let’s make a list of those, with a special accent on the problems people might actually struggle with today.

Overload. Whether it’s overload of sensory inputs, information, contacts with other people, overload of any kind will keep your mind in a state of chaos and superficiality, and you can’t get anything done in such a state. I recently saw ads/reviews for a digital version of a typewriter, essentially a keyboard with a rudimentary computer and e-ink screen that isn’t connected to the Internet, because obviously some people have a problem trying to write something on a computer that is connected to the Internet and provides an endless source of temptation to alt-tab into the web browser or chat or something that will distract you from what you need to do. Apparently, the problem is significant enough for some that they find it easier to just get another, inherently disconnected device, than to control the impulse to superficially surf the chaos, watching hundreds stupid video clips in a row and wasting yet another day. I kind of understand that, since human bodies are not designed for this; the closest you will normally get to this experience is a chaotic market where everybody is constantly pestering you with stuff and you’re not even sure you’re interested, but stuff is shiny.

Another thing that causes overload are video games, and not just any video games, but specifically those that require very fast movement and reaction time, below the threshold of thinking, the kind that motivates people to buy fast-refresh monitors and graphics cards because 60 FPS isn’t enough; the first-person shooters, mostly. My first encounter with this stuff was Duke Nukem 3d, in the 1990s, and playing that would have my mind look like a hive of angry bees, basically incoherent chaos, for hours. On the contrary, games that have a slow pace, like Diablo, Warcraft, Elite, or Witcher 3 as a modern equivalent, produce no such adverse effects. Basically, human brain doesn’t lend itself to overclocking, and the adverse effects of overloading it with information or forcing it to work on maximum speed are severe.

Superficial interpersonal connections. In times before the Internet and the social networks, our elders used to warn us against wasting time sitting in some bar hanging out with people, talking mostly about nothing in particular, because you end up wasting your life that way. Unfortunately, with the social media this became the default mode of behaviour, and I mean wasting your life away on stupid bullshit and nothing in particular. This is one of those “games” where the only winning move is not to play.

I think there’s something about human brain that makes “socialising” both attractive and superficial, and the bigger the group, the worse the problem. Basically, when you’re alone, you are capable for your greatest spiritual depths. When you’re with another person, you’re limited to the weakest link of the two; basically, the best case scenario is that you are the weakest link, because then you can learn and be pulled beyond your limits by the other person. If the other person is the limiting factor, you can either waste time by functioning below your potential because the other person isn’t interesting in exceeding their limitations, or you focus and amplify your thoughts by explaining them to the other person in attempts to improve their understanding, or you give up and leave. However, as the group increases, the likelihood of the group dynamics being defined by everybody’s fears and fake personality, posturing, trying to maintain a likeable facade, and keeping everything superficial and “safe”, increases with some kind of a logarithmic curve where everything beyond a certain number that can be counted on fingers of one hand is a chaotic, superficial mess that is of no use to anyone; an even better description is a graph of 1/x function, where x is the number of people involved. Basically, at that point you’re not even a person, you’re a group member. Also, groups make people into not-really-themselves, and they act in ways that are more of a reflection of group dynamics, than their own personality, which can create all kinds of stupid nonsense. So, it is my experience that keeping an “open connection” with other people is completely incompatible with the kind of “inward-sight” that is essential for being aware of the transcendental, and, specifically, maintaining your personal connection to God. Being in the presence of God and keeping live horizontal links to humans and worldly things just doesn’t mix well, because it’s either one or the other. The circumstances where a connection to God and connection to another person can actually coexist are the very rare and extreme cases of either spiritual initiation or true tantric sex. Basically, if you are trying to establish a transcendental connection to God, avoid being distracted by people, because that’s what they are – distractions. It’s like having a radio connection that can maintain only one contact at the time, God competes for the position of that one active contact, and the channel is constantly flooded by superficial “handshake” connections, the stupid “hi, how are you doing?” things. Obviously, it’s an excellent way of remaining on a superficial level of spiritual experience forever. As I said already, the only winning move is not to play the game, or at least constrain it very deliberately.

Entitlement. If people think they have rights, they start whining and complaining and acting like victims of some injustice or another. This is spiritually extremely harmful. The only way to achieve results is to understand that you’re fucked, it’s nobody’s duty to help you but your own, that making yourself feel worse by whining merely creates another problem for you to solve later, that “social signalling” is worthless because it doesn’t work on God, and instead of complaining about God abandoning you or some other stupid nonsense, just make the spiritual move that will get you in the presence of God. Your mammalian emotional signalling is not transcendental, it has no redeeming quality, your whining and regressing into a cub crying for mommy is not attractive to God. It’s just disturbance that stands in the way of achieving transcendence. If you’re a complete beginner, some angel might take pity on you and try to show you the way despite your animalistic emotions, but if you then start thinking that your emotions actually caused the darshan, and try to repeat them in order to repeat the supposed result, you’re in a world of hurt. Which brings me to the next thing:

Your emotions are not “justified”. They are not even “yours”. They just are, and for the most part they “are” slavery, bondage and delusion. Emotion is just energy of a certain frequency moving through a certain part of your energy system, and resonating with some animal bullshit or another that is inherited from either primordial goo or jumping on tree branches. If you stop feeding it you get to see just how transitory and unimportant it all is. Feeding your emotions, or allowing them to persist because you think they are justified, or being in habit of being angry, cynical or whatever, is merely a result of poor training and upbringing. Emotions need to be completely flexible and you need to allow them to start, possibly act on them, and have them end, without introducing artificial persistence.

Trying to impress others. That’s one of those bad ideas that everybody has and they never seem to go away, and they are universally harmful. No, you don’t exist only because others perceive you. No, if you trick others into having a good opinion of you, you won’t actually be worth more. No, if others have a poor opinion of you, that doesn’t really diminish who you actually are. So basically, others don’t matter. What matters is what your connection to God actually is, what virtues you actually possess, what flaws you actually removed, and what your spiritual body actually is, and if you talk about it to others, that’s one of the most effective ways of losing it.

To follow up on the last article, let’s see what the tradition says is a problem and will cause failure in yogic practice, and what I found out.

If I had to sum up the traditionally described modes of failure, and if I don’t attempt to be too abstract or formal, it would go more-less like this:

Attachment. This is pretty straightforward; one is attached to the worldly things, doesn’t wish to let go, and thus either abandons spiritual practice or fails in it. My experience: yes, that’s a very common mode of failure. Basically, one gets interested in yoga, practices until their attachments are tested, and then invents this or that excuse to end the practice, or remains involved with the “movement” as a mere formality, but does absolutely nothing that would result in actual spiritual advancement because that would threaten their attachments.

Moral failure. This is also straightforward – if one becomes, or fails to stop being cruel, evil, a liar, fornicator, thief, murderer etc., they won’t make spiritual progress, and at worst will become practitioners of dark magic. My experience: unfortunately, this is also common. I could probably classify it under “attachment” as well, but since it’s attachment to very dark modes of behaviour, it deserves its special category.

Blasphemy. One invents imaginary failures of his guru, proclaims himself to be God or an enlightened master without proper qualifications, starts accepting students and invents his own theology that is centred around his own failures and hallucinations, proclaiming them special virtues. My experience: yes, this indeed happens, but I’m not sure if it’s a cause of a downfall or merely an ego-preservation strategy.

Lack of dedication. One lacks devotion to God, desire for liberation and spiritual improvement, loses focus and discontinues spiritual practice, or continues lackluster practice that fails to attain any results. My experience: yes.

Fanaticism. One practices too much and hurts himself, or goes around making foolish and exaggerated claims about virtues of his practice without actually attaining results himself. My experience: yup, that’s a thing, unfortunately.

Impurity. Eating meat, drinking alcohol, taking drugs, having sex, having lots of money, basically refraining from recommended ascetic practices. My experience: I actually never encountered a mode of failure of this type, which is funny because according to what people usually believe, one would think that this would be the main mode of failure, but it never is. If anything, people fail for other reasons, and then later degrade into abominable behaviour. Eating meat and having sex proved to be a non-issue, unless connected with other problems, such as having sex with a person that is trying to attach you to worldly things and won’t let go. Drugs are a bad idea in general but I never had an experience with someone who abandoned yoga because they wanted to take drugs or drink alcohol. It’s usually some of the aforementioned modes of failure as a cause, and debauchery as a consequence.

Hubris. Thinking you are so advanced you can perform immoral and sinful acts and count on the yogic technique, guru and God to save you. My experience: yes, this kind of a thing happened so often it looks like a pattern, and people tend to treat sin as an energetic impurity that can be easily remedied with yoga, while it is in fact a cause of strain within the soul and causes its fragmentation and inability to practice yoga properly in any way afterwards. Also, intentionally doing that is a sin against both guru and God and causes one to perceive them in a disrespectful manner, thus renouncing their authority and being unable to receive help.

So, other than this list, what would be my personal observations? Well, one of the most pernicious issues I faced is the propensity of students of yoga to create cult-like environments even when the guru has an obvious dislike for this behaviour and warns against it. Trying to establish and maintain “pecking orders”, or hierarchies of seniority and dominance, trying to assert their relevance to the junior students, abusing their assumed authority within the group to either play ego games with the new students, or get them to have sex with them and so on. This stuff kept repeating so much that I think it’s one of the most basic human patterns of behaviour, and it caused all kinds of trouble and mischief. It sometimes worked out fine as a form of social bonding or finding a compatible mate within the group, but regardless of the possible benefits it universally distracts everyone from actual spiritual practice, and the whole thing degrades into a cult. Apparently, spirituality isn’t a team sport. Specifically, the issue of an “idiot senpai”, more accurately a person who is a student for a longer time regardless of actual accomplishments, and who tries to impose himself as some kind of an intermediary, proxy guru, giving the less experienced people all kinds of advice, hints and alternative teachings, or even make sexual advances, is an endless cause of mischief. Apparently, being in some kind of a spiritual organisation or a movement makes people feel special and important without any good reason, and this becomes a cause of downfall for themselves, and is a nuisance to others.

I’ve been thinking about something recently.

I’m not sure I ever explained why exactly did I do certain things in a certain way in my early yogic practice – all people know was that I did something, then I changed it, and I never explained my actual thinking behind the decisions.

You see, the way I started yogic practice was pretty interesting. I won’t go into great detail, but I had no guidance other than books, and my pretty advanced knowledge of autogenic training, so it was a given that I had to experiment in order to establish what actually works, in the sense of achieving presence of God, and transforming my consciousness and energy system in order to be able to bear God’s presence and eventually be God’s presence. The problem is, the books I had contained mostly the very general instructions, and not of the kind that actually had anything to do with yoga itself – it was mostly how one should behave, what kind of emotions to avoid and what kind to stimulate, be vegetarian, celibate, non-violent, kind, don’t do drugs, alcohol, don’t smoke and so on. It all sounded pretty much like standard religious moralizing, and I initially put it all in a “nice to know, but it’s not a cause-side but effect-side of any spiritual equation”. However, the texts that talked about yoga always talked about dangers of practice, and it was mostly “if your system is not pure enough, the increased energy level will either burn you up, or it will cause energy detours from the main nadis into the smaller ones, which will cause overloads and serious damage”. Since I initially had no experience with energy overloads of any kind, I filed this as “exaggerated”. That is, until I had an experience during meditation, where I didn’t actually “hear” the “OM sound”, it was more like feeling it with both body and mind, and it was something that felt so strong I really got scared that if it got stronger it might break me like a twig. At another instance, I had the experience of ananda, divine bliss, which was so strong that it felt like orgasm multiplied by a nuclear blast, and I’m not even exaggerating much here – it felt like something that could evaporate me if it got any stronger. You can imagine how I started taking the warnings very seriously after those two experiences. I also changed my approach to the things I couldn’t personally verify to “obey everything first” from “try to confirm everything first”. You see, the problem with the “try to confirm before obeying” is obvious – you might die, or at least experience some mode of failure. There were obviously all kinds of factors there that I didn’t understand, and since I worked from books alone without any personal guidance from anyone, after several very powerful experiences I decided it would be a very good idea to reduce my chances of sudden death or terrible failure by respectfully obeying all instructions given by authoritative persons, especially if the instructions overlap.

You see, yogis try to make yoga popular by saying it’s a spiritual science, but that’s not exactly true. It’s more of a proto-science, the way people experimented with herbs to figure out what’s poisonous, and what has medicinal properties. You experiment with something, you observe the results, but there’s a limit to what kind of experiments you can make and it never reaches the requirements for a proper science where you can isolate active compounds and test them in vitro and in vivo to figure out what does what exactly, and in what circumstances. The “gold standard” for yogic proto-science is “I did x and reached a spiritual experience, so if you try to reproduce x, you will also likely reach a spiritual experience”. The problem is, “x” is usually a complex thing. What did he actually do? He was a hermit who lived in some cave, ate whatever fruits and herbs he could find around, didn’t have sex, did some physical exercises, did some pranayama, did some prayers, chanted some mantra, visualized something from the scriptures, and some combination of the above worked and he experienced something transcendental. Not knowing what exactly worked and why, he passed it on to his students and told them to just do what he did, and it will work.

That’s not really science, but that’s what I had to work with. As I learned more, I could tweak things and isolate the active component of the practice, but the real question is, what would I recommend to a beginner from my current perspective? I was talking about vegetarianism with my wife, and explained why I was a vegetarian initially, and told her that I’m not sure I would be willing to gamble with someone’s life even now, by recommending any detours from the process I personally followed in the beginning, because there’s a serious difference between introducing things later on, as you have a volume of personal experience and power, and doing it in the beginning, when any deviation can cause either absence of experience altogether, or an experience so extreme it can either damage you, or cause such trauma that you will subconsciously try to avoid experiencing anything similar in the future. So, yes, I eat meat now, but would I recommend a beginner yogi to eat meat, as I do now, but not as I did when I was a beginner myself? You see my point? Yoga is not something where you can do whatever because none of it works anyway. The “problem” is that it very much works, but the exact parameters and circumstances vary so much between individuals that it’s safest to try to equalize most of it first, in order to reduce the number of variables. Also, the humility required for one to obey the guru and the tradition is also a factor that contributes to a good outcome of the practice, because it means that your energetic system is properly aligned. Arrogance is a symptom of dangerous misalignment, and contributes to bad outcomes. By arrogance I mean the attitude that you are in a position to second-guess the guru, and cherry-pick the stuff you’re going to obey or ignore. In the beginning, only absolute humility, respect and blind faith works, because you’re too ignorant to be able to make any judgment about anything. Only after you’re experienced, powerful and holy enough to have full mastery of something, to the point where you understand how things work, is when you can gradually change things, see what’s irrelevant, what can be done better, and what is actually harming your progress. An advanced yogi has such “density” and purity of his soul that he can rip through “reality” the way a supermassive black hole bends space around it. Stuff that could completely perturb a beginner is of no consequence to a master. That is not to say that a master has no problems at his own order of magnitude, but that is a different matter entirely; it’s comparable to Jesus having a problem bearing the sins of the world, and an ordinary person having a problem controlling their attention and avoiding distractions. To a master, a certain level of disturbance and impurity absorbed by the physical body is something he can perceive, wait until it passes, possibly repair the damage and proceed with whatever he was doing before. To a beginner, the same level of disturbance and impurity can distract him to the point where he completely loses his inner spiritual bearings, “forget” the spiritual content of a mantra and be unable to find his way again. Where a nuclear submarine might not care about the waves, a small sailing boat must pay utmost attention to the conditions of the sea. “Quod licet Iovi, non licet bovi” sounds very unpleasant to the egalitarian minds of today’s men, who might think it encourages moral relativism, but it is in fact a great truth. A great master of yoga can absorb and neutralize immense kinds of energetic damage, where a normal person’s soul will disintegrate on a mere contact with a problem orders of magnitudes weaker. A normal person would strive for years to attain darshan of spiritual states and substances that a master wields. At some points in my advanced practice, I actually practiced exposing myself to outside noise and interference to harden the inner core of my meditative state against it, with the result that I could do spiritual initiations in a crowded bar. A beginner must absolutely avoid this kind of interference and noise in order to establish the spiritual connection first, then slowly strengthen it, and then gradually introduce all kinds of noise to check his resistance, and even when you’re able to resist almost anything, it doesn’t mean that you should bathe in filth all day. Resisting harmful interference requires an expenditure of energy and effort that might be better used for something more constructive. However, trying to copy a master’s behavior rather than obey his instructions diligently is a very foolish thing for a student, because I can tell you with absolute certainty that a student is simply unable to understand the complexities behind the instructions, and trying to think about it is a wasted effort. For instance, Romana once came home completely disturbed, I took a look at her and told her to take a shower and wash her hair immediately. She resisted because it made no sense to her, at which I raised my voice and told her to obey me immediately. She did, and she felt much better, which is when I explained that she was under an astral attack by a malevolent person, and since she had all kinds of contaminants on her pranic body, the astral connection held on quite firmly, and the easiest way to break it was with water, because water for some reason binds well with prana and can break the impure structures away, allowing your spirit to create a fresh and pure layer, which is why ritual baths for spiritual purposes are so fundamental in Hinduism. I didn’t have the time to explain all this while she was under a foreign influence and taking damage, because her mind wasn’t working properly and talking to her would have been a wasted effort. However, when she obeyed my order, her condition improved and she came to her senses, which is when I could provide an explanation. This is why obedience is obligatory, and understanding is optional for a student of yoga. For a master, however, understanding appears as a result of practice, and becomes a foundation of his philosophy and teaching, but instinct informed by the inner spiritual connection with God is always the foundational mechanism of his decision-making.