Vedic Perspective

By Krishna-dharma das

( Source )

Marking as it does the end of the children’s summer holidays, September is greeted with a certain amount of relief by long suffering parents. Of course we love the little darlings, and it is nice having them home from time to time, but periods in excess of two days tend to present major challenges. For example, remaining sane as they attempt to wreck the house while emitting continuous fierce sounds of unmitigated combat with each other. The holidays do present an opportunity for some ‘parent child bonding’, but not always in ways we parents find so enjoyable. While I would prefer a pleasant day out in some rural setting, reclining peacefully with a picnic while discussing spiritual topics; the kids baulk at such suggestions. “Boring!” is the usual response. They’ve seen the TV ads for Disneyworld type attractions, and country walks are nowhere near as fascinating. So it was then that I took my children recently to a large leisure park.

After paying almost eighty pounds to get in, we, or rather they, partook of the pleasures of the “adrenalin rush.” I resisted most of the attempts to get me on to the rides, preferring to keep my stomach where it is. When you reach your fifties, you tend to be wary of boarding something with a name like “Nemesis Inferno” or “Detonator”. Watching carloads of white-faced riders being hauled two hundred feet into the air, only to be abruptly dropped face-first toward the ground at eighty miles per hour, I had no regrets.

The kids loved it, of course, but it made me reflect. In order to enjoy ourselves just a little we have created a very complex situation indeed. The fearsome Nemesis ride, for example, is a huge steel affair requiring considerable amounts of power to keep it going, as well as a great deal of careful maintenance to ensure it runs safely and smoothly. The whole park is extremely resource intensive, with hundreds of staff employed. So much energy is needed, but what is the return? To get on board the ride my children had to queue for over one hour, and it lasted less than ninety seconds. It was the same with most of the attractions. Getting your money’s worth was quite an endeavour.

In many ways the park mirrored the material world. You have to go through all sorts of struggle and pain to get just a small amount of happiness – or in this case, terror. Our modern civilisations necessitate vast amounts of work to keep them going, and we are all implicated. These days it is rare to find a family where both partners do not have full time employment. Just to pay for the house, the cars, the holidays, and all those latest technological marvels they keep telling us we can’t live without – it soon adds up. And behind it all are huge global industries requiring so many resources. But how much happiness does it all give? Often we are so exhausted from working to maintain everything that all we can do is fall asleep when we get home. A wealthy acquaintance once told me how he hardly finds time to eat his meals during the day. Even when we do find time for leisure it can be difficult keeping our minds off the anxieties associated with surviving in this world. There has to be an easier way to be happy, and this in fact is what the Vedas say.

They explain that human life is not meant for hard work just for some fleeting pleasure. There are unlimited amounts of happiness to be easily found within ourselves, if we can only take our attention away from the fascinating diversions without. An analogy is given of a washerman’s ass, still seen in some parts of the world. The washerman piles an enormous heap of clothes on the animal’s back and then flays it with a stick.

The poor beast, clad in blinkers, struggles along and is rewarded with a basket of grass by its master. What it can’t see is that there is abundant grass on both sides of the road as it carries its great load. Perhaps we are not so unlike that ass, constructing our pleasure parks and so on, but remaining blinkered to the abundant pleasure that lies within. We can sit down anywhere, chant God’s names and meditate upon his beautiful form and pastimes. It costs nothing, there are no queues, it won’t scare the wits out of us, and our breakfast will stay right where we put it. And the Nemesis Inferno? We’ll never have to see it.