looking at myself

Looking at myself:
“In the smile of the flower that blooms there dwells God; in the cool breeze that caresses there dwells God; In the river that flows quietly, in the grandeur of the mountain, in the trees and the sky, there is God; We pray to thee, Oh, Lord!”
This is a rough translation of the prayer I heard coming through the mike in the voice of a child at the start of to-day’s morning function at our club. It was just part of a silly ritual. On arrival there I had been feeling that the whole atmosphere there of the anniversary festivity was silly, sham, superficial. How sad for an organization in which I am a member!
At that moment of sadness and self-pity it suddenly dawned on me that Man invariably prays stupidly not knowing, not apprehending, what is God or even knowing whether there is actually a god as presumed. Poor Man! He can never understand the secret of Life! And he does not know that he cannot know. And yet he prays, - just because he does not know.
Next day, I saw myself in the video recording of the Anniversary. I felt sad seeing that old man struggling to reach the mike to say a few words (was he lisping!) and chant a few lines of Bhagavad Geetha. That was me! And is that the real me, the physical me now? But I never felt that bad while at it on the stage! Seeing yourself in reality is a strange experience! Naturally on the mental and spiritual side also the image of myself would need revision!
In fact I had not actually looked at myself, seen myself, or perceived myself or felt myself in its real sense. So far, my impression of myself was a built up imagination. I have started only now to look, to see, and to feel myself.
This looking is not the type of meditation in which at the beginning you see or feel thoughts entering your mind and disappearing, slowly making the mind calm, quiet, and finally emptying it. This is different. It is the opposite. I see or feel the thoughts, understand them, understand their relationships, how they are part of me, how they constitute me, how they behave, wherefrom they emerge, study their unique character in relation to what is ‘me’ and what is not ‘me’, and what is their common peculiarity, if any.
My thoughts are unique. My body is unique. Its genes are differently constituted from those of all other human beings. Therefore its functioning has its own peculiarities.
My body and mind are what they are to-day because of certain qualities and defects inherent from birth, and on which the present system of the life of mine has been built up brick by brick.
I have been breathing for nearly all through eighty-one years. But how many times have I actually noticed or paid attention to the peculiarities of my breathing, or was really conscious of the rhythm of my breathing? Only for a small fraction of the long time. Perhaps when I had difficulties with it. That was just for avoiding discomforts. Similarly for the beating of my heart. They do their work, whether I am conscious of them or not. I digest my food whether I am aware of it or not. I am not conscious of umpteen other functions of the organs of my body, most of which are highly complicated. I am in fact aware of only an incredibly small number of the infinite actions that my body performs every moment. But now I understand that I could have been aware of very many more functions of the body and mind had I been more attentive to them.
Understanding one’s instinctive and spontaneous behavior with the outside world, or noticing the pains, irritations, and discomforts of the body, is not what is meant by knowing oneself. Neither is it identifying and recognizing a self or ‘I’ within one’s mind, eliminating or subduing the thought processes.
It could be only the complete acceptance of all of one’s thoughts, all of one’s emotions, all of one’s irritations and discomforts of the body and mind, so that one is free of them, and free to use them or discard them. Use for what? Just to pull on with this life as long as it lasts with minimum discomfort. Greater things, if any, could be bye-products.