How to Know God

Embark on a transformative journey to understand the deepest questions of existence and discover the profound path to knowing God. "How to Know God" by Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood offers more than just spiritual guidance; it provides a comprehensive roadmap to union with the divine. This book illuminates the true essence of yoga, revealing it not as a mere physical discipline, but as a powerful method for achieving spiritual connection with the Godhead. You will gain practical insights into the core practices of yoga, moving beyond superficial understanding to embrace disciplines like austerity, study, and the dedication of your work's fruits to the divine. Explore the sophisticated stages of yoga, from steadfast concentration of the mind to profound states of being, and understand how these practices can lead to true liberation. This isn't about accumulating fleeting psychic abilities, but about grasping the fundamental currents of existence and your integral place within them. The tone is one of profound wisdom, intellectual clarity, and gentle encouragement, inviting you to engage deeply with timeless spiritual truths. Prepare to expand your consciousness, deepen your understanding of yourself and the universe, and embark on a sacred quest for ultimate connection.

The journey into yoga, as Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood illuminate, begins with understanding its very essence: union. Yoga, rooted in the Sanskrit word for 'yoke,' is not merely a physical discipline but a profound method for achieving spiritual union with the Godhead, the ultimate Reality underlying our transient universe. Patanjali defines this as the control of thoughtwaves in the mind, a mind composed of the recording faculty (manas), the discriminative faculty (buddhi), and the ego-sense (ahamkar). The central dilemma yoga seeks to resolve is the mistaken identification of the true Self, the Atman or Purusha—pure consciousness itself—with the fluctuating activity of the mind and ego. This false identification, like a lightbulb mistakenly claiming to be the electric current, is the source of all suffering, even temporary happiness laced with anxiety. The mind, much like a lake disturbed by waves, obscures the clear bottom—the Atman. Yoga's aim is to still these waves, not through brute force, but by unlearning this false identification, a process that transforms character by addressing the samskaras, the deep-seated tendencies formed by past thoughts and actions. These samskaras, whether inherited or acquired through past lives, shape our present tendencies and character, but crucially, they can be modified. The path involves distinguishing between 'painful' thoughtwaves, which bind us through ignorance and addiction, and 'non-painful' ones, which lead to freedom and knowledge, even if initially they seem challenging. Ultimately, even the 'non-painful' waves must be transcended to reach the state of pure awareness, where man abides in his real nature, free from the mistaken belief in a separate, unique self. This profound transformation is achieved through the twin pillars of practice and nonattachment: persistent effort combined with detachment from the fruits of one's actions and the allure of the objective world. As we learn to discriminate, to question our desires, we begin to shed imaginary needs, freeing ourselves from the pain of attachment. The universe itself, as Vedanta explains, is a dance of three forces—sattwa (purity), rajas (activity), and tamas (inertia)—within Prakriti, the primal stuff of mind and matter, all ultimately emanating from Brahman. Meditation, then, becomes a process of devolution, moving inward from the gross to the subtle, seeking the cause behind the cause, until the ultimate Reality is reached. This inward journey involves stages of concentration, from gross objects to subtle essences, and even to the primal cause, Prakriti. However, Patanjali cautions against the misuse of developing psychic powers, emphasizing purity of motive and nonattachment. The ultimate goal is not merely concentration, but a 'seedless' samadhi, where even the impression of concentration dissolves, leading to union with the Atman, a state of pure, undifferentiated consciousness beyond all phenomenal experience. This profound state, often described as the 'lotus of the heart,' offers a glimpse of eternal peace and bliss, a liberation from the cycle of karma and rebirth, where one recognizes the divine not just in a chosen ideal but in the fundamental Reality that underlies all existence. The wisdom of yoga teaches that true liberation comes not from escaping the world, but from seeing the divine within it and within oneself, transforming the ordinary into the sacred through unwavering practice and detachment.

The path to yoga, as illuminated by Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood, begins not with grand pronouncements but with the quiet power of kriya yoga: austerity, study, and the dedication of one's work's fruits to the divine. The Sanskrit word 'tapas,' often mistranslated as austerity, truly signifies the generation and direction of energy, a conscious self-discipline that isn't grim self-punishment but a sane, firm handling of our inner selves, much like a charioteer guiding powerful horses. This journey is fraught with obstacles—ignorance, egoism, attachment, aversion, and the desperate clinging to life—which, Patanjali explains, are not sins against an external deity but barriers to our own true nature, the Atman. The crucial distinction lies in recognizing that these are not offenses against God the Father, but against our innermost reality, the Atman, alienating us from the very source of our being. This fundamental ignorance, the false identification of consciousness with the mere reflection of it—egoism—is the root of our suffering, like a musk deer searching the world for a fragrance that emanates from within. Attachment to fleeting pleasures and aversion to pain alike bind us, creating cycles of recurring problems until we confront them with impartial insight. The doctrine of reincarnation offers not grim fatalism, but profound optimism: we are responsible for our present, and thus empowered to change it, for the universe is a grand book where every page, even those of pain, offers lessons if we learn and move on. True happiness, the sages reveal, isn't found in fleeting satisfactions but in contentment, a deep abiding peace released by breaking down the barriers of desire and fear, allowing the intense joy of the Atman, always within us, to emerge. The eight limbs of yoga—yama (ethical restraints), niyama (observances), asana (posture), pranayama (breath control), pratyahara (sense withdrawal), dharana (concentration), dhyana (meditation), and samadhi (absorption)—provide a structured path to dismantle these obstacles. By practicing harmlessness, truthfulness, continence, and non-greed, we cultivate a powerful inner stillness, even attracting abundance and spiritual energy. The refined perceptions that arise from purity and contentment lead not to asceticism, but to cheerfulness and a profound indifference to the body's transient nature, a recognition that the Atman is the unchangeable essence, and the universe, its playground for liberation. Ultimately, this disciplined practice, particularly through devotion (bhakti yoga) and selfless action (karma yoga), purifies the mind, removes the veil of ignorance, and opens the spiritual vision, allowing the experiencer to realize their true, unchangeable nature as the Atman, forever free.

The path to knowing God, as Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood unfold it in the chapter 'POWERS,' is a journey through the sophisticated practices of yoga, moving beyond mere concentration to profound states of being. It begins with *dharana*, the steadfast holding of the mind on a spiritual center or divine form, a practice that demands an initial focus on the Inner Light or a Chosen Ideal, as guided by one's teacher. This is not the scattered thought of everyday life; it's a deliberate anchoring. From this solid ground, *dhyana*, or meditation, emerges as an unbroken stream of thought, a continuous flow akin to oil poured from one vessel to another, where individual thoughts are so rapidly succeeded by identical ones that they fuse into a singular, unbroken experience, much like a film strip creating the illusion of continuous motion. This sustained focus, Patanjali reveals, differs from our common notion of meditation, which often involves discursive thinking; yoga's *dhyana* is a sustained, singular wave. The ultimate fruit of this sustained practice is *samadhi*, absorption, where the true nature of the object shines forth, unclouded by the perceiver's imagination, leading to direct, supersensuous knowledge—a reality more profound than ordinary perception, as Sri Ramakrishna experienced when he declared God more real than his disciples. When these three, *dharana*, *dhyana*, and *samadhi*, are applied to a single subject, they form *samyama*, a powerful tool for understanding an object's true nature. Patanjali, however, issues a stern warning: this path must be trod stage by stage, for attempts to shortcut the process, perhaps through drugs or premature leaps, are dangerous, leading not to spiritual benefit but to despair. The journey progresses from gross to subtle objects, from form to formlessness, culminating not just in lower states of absorption, but in the possibility of *nirvikalpa samadhi*, a state of deep stillness beyond thought. Yet, this chapter delves further, exploring the 'powers' that can arise from mastering *samyama*. These range from understanding the language of all beings by focusing on the word-sound-reaction nexus, to knowing past lives by tracing previous thoughtwaves, or even rendering oneself invisible by separating one's body from its perceptibility. The narrative acknowledges the allure of these psychic phenomena—telepathy, levitation, clairvoyance—but crucially frames them as potential stumbling blocks, 'heaps of rubbish' that can divert the aspirant from the ultimate goal of spiritual liberation, a sentiment echoed by Buddha and Christ. Western man's focus on mechanical powers, like the telephone replacing telepathy, is presented as a perhaps less perilous, though materialistic, alternative. The true yogi, while capable of extraordinary feats like walking on water or entering another's body, as illustrated by the tale of Shankara, ultimately learns that these powers are merely worldly, obstacles to the profound peace of *samadhi*. The ultimate wisdom revealed is that true power lies not in wielding these abilities, but in transcending them. By renouncing even the greatest powers, such as omnipotence and omniscience, the seed of ego—ignorance—is destroyed, leading to liberation. This is the profound resolution: the greatest power is the power to let go, to discriminate between the true self, the Atman, and the illusory ego, thereby achieving a state of pure consciousness, one with the Atman, where the mind is as pure as the Self itself, a state Sri Ramakrishna equated with the Atman itself.

The journey toward liberation, as Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood illuminate, is not merely about accumulating spiritual powers, but about understanding the profound currents of existence and our place within them. They reveal that while psychic abilities might manifest through birth, certain practices, or even substances, these are but transient phenomena. True spiritual genius, like that of the 'natural saints' who embody divine love from childhood, arises from a deeper wellspring. Even a faltering spiritual seeker, as Sri Krishna assures Arjuna in the Bhagavad Gita, will find their efforts rewarded, eventually returning to the path with renewed vigor, driven by the momentum of past practices. The authors delve into the Hindu theory of evolution, illustrating it not as a struggle for survival, but as the natural unfolding of inherent perfection, much like water flowing into a field when a dam is broken. Our actions, like a farmer's, either direct this evolutionary force constructively or cause a disastrous flood of negative karma. This inherent perfection within each being, Vivekananda reminds us, is the true engine of progress, a force that continues to push us forward until we realize our divine potential, even beyond the need for competition. The ego, the authors explain, creates individual minds, but a singular, original mind orchestrates them all, a concept that leads to a crucial insight: the creation of multiple minds or bodies to exhaust karma, while theoretically possible, is fraught with peril, as the king who sought to satisfy lust found only increased craving, a potent reminder that experience alone does not lead to liberation. Only a mind purified by samadhi, free from the latent impressions of karma and desire, can achieve true release. The karma of the illumined yogi, unlike that of ordinary individuals which can be white, black, or mixed, ceases to bind them, with its effects absorbed by devotees or detractors. Avatars, however, stand apart, entering the world by grace, unburdened by karma, their actions not creating karmic consequences for others. This leads to a striking point: intense emotion, even hatred directed towards the divine, can be a catalyst for spiritual progress, a stark contrast to indifference, which is deemed the gravest spiritual failing. The balance of one's karmas, influenced by environment and association, determines which tendencies manifest, shaping our rebirths, whether as a monk or even an animal, where innate good tendencies may be suppressed by the given condition. The continuity of karma across species, time, and space is preserved by an unconscious memory, a deep coordination of past impressions with present actions. This ceaseless cycle, rooted in the desire to exist, can only be broken by realizing the Atman, our eternal nature, and unlearning this phenomenal desire. The universe itself, a vast wheel of Brahman, turns until the individual self recognizes its identity with the divine, achieving immortality. The mind, though a reflection of the Atman, is not self-luminous; it is an instrument, illuminated by the Atman, the true seer, whose unchanging consciousness provides the standard for all fluctuating perceptions. The authors refute subjective idealism, asserting the reality of an objective world independent of our minds, yet acknowledging that our perception of objects is colored by our mental states. Ultimately, liberation is achieved not by exhausting experiences, but by ceasing to identify with the mind and recognizing oneself as the Atman. When the mind, bent on discrimination, moves towards liberation, past impressions may still surface, but they can be overcome through meditation and returning to the primal cause. This path culminates in 'the cloud of virtue,' a state of perfect discrimination where ignorance and karma cease their hold, and the universe, once a source of mystery, reveals its essence through the knowledge of the Atman, rendering scientific inquiry akin to emptying an ocean with a spoon. The sequence of the gunas, having served their purpose in facilitating this experience and liberation, resolve back into Prakriti, and the Atman shines forth in its pure, conscious nature, as Swami Vivekananda poetically concludes, a gentle nurse guiding the soul through the universe's experiences until its lost glory is remembered, an infinite river of souls flowing towards self-realization.

Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood's "How to Know God" offers a profound and systematic exploration of yoga's ultimate aim: the realization of the Godhead through the disciplined control of the mind. The core takeaway is that our suffering arises not from external circumstances, but from our mistaken identification of the ego with the ever-fluctuating thought-waves and mental activities. Yoga, therefore, is presented as a path of unlearning this false identification, a process of purifying the mind and character, which are deeply shaped by ingrained tendencies (samskaras) born from past actions and thoughts. The book emphasizes that true spiritual progress is not a rapid ascent but a gradual, staged journey, moving from gross to subtle levels of experience through practices like concentration (dharana), meditation (dhyana), and deep absorption (samadhi). The ultimate goal is not the accumulation of extraordinary psychic powers, which are deemed mere worldly distractions and significant obstacles to true liberation, but the direct, supersensory experience of the ultimate Reality (Brahman) beyond all forms and distortions. This realization, the authors stress, transcends intellectual understanding and leads to a transformation of character and an unshakeable inner contentment, distinct from fleeting pleasures. The emotional lessons lie in recognizing the inherent divine nature within (Atman) and understanding that obstacles like ignorance and egoism are self-created barriers, not sins against an external deity. The doctrine of reincarnation provides a framework for personal responsibility and continuous growth, empowering individuals to shape their future. The practical wisdom is distilled in the eight limbs of yoga, offering a systematic approach to overcome these inner barriers, progressing from ethical conduct to profound states of consciousness. Ultimately, "How to Know God" guides the reader towards understanding that liberation is achieved when the mind, purified and transcended, becomes a clear reflection of the Atman – pure, unchangeable consciousness, eternally free and inherently joyful, fulfilling its purpose and allowing the divine to shine forth unimpeded.