“The curious paradox is that when I accept myself as I am, then I change.”
— Carl R. Rogers, On Becoming a Person
Kabir – The couplet
सहज सहज सब कोई कहै, सहज न चीन्हैं कोय ।
जिन सहजै विषया तजै, सहज कहावै सोय ॥
Transliterated:
Sahaj sahaj sab koi kahai, sahaj na cheenhai koy |
Jin sahajai vishaya tajai, sahaj kahavai soy ||
Translation:
Everyone speaks of natural ease, but few recognize what it truly is |
One who naturally lets go of attachment to sensory pleasures is truly established in that ease ||
My understanding:
Carl Rogers’s observation brings an interesting question to Kabir’s doha: can we change ourselves while refusing to acknowledge what is actually going on inside us?
We want to be peaceful. We want to be less angry, less jealous, less dependent on what others think. But often, even this desire becomes another demand that we place upon ourselves. We become irritated with ourselves for being irritated! And now, the original disturbance has acquired a companion.
Kabir’s sahaj carries a deeper spiritual meaning than simply feeling relaxed. In this couplet, the test of that natural ease is freedom from the pull of sense-bound desire. Saying the word is easy; living without being continually dragged about by what attracts us is another matter.
Rogers speaks from the experience of psychological change. Kabir speaks of spiritual freedom. Their thoughts meet, for me, in the recognition that an inward change must become real within us. A convincing performance on the outside will take us only so far.
I may say that praise does not matter to me, and still keep checking whether anyone has noticed my work. I may speak beautifully about detachment, and become restless when someone disagrees with me. The words have moved ahead; the mind is still standing where it was.
My understanding is that I must first be willing to see this distance honestly.
If I notice that I am hungry for approval, I can acknowledge that hunger without immediately feeding it. I can ask what I am expecting another person’s praise to give me. Am I asking them to provide a certainty about myself that I have not taken the time to develop?
That question gives me something useful to work with.
Think of a hand gripping a rope. After a while, the fingers hurt, but we keep tightening them because we are afraid of what will happen if we loosen our hold. We may even begin to believe that the pain is proof of our effort. Yet, once we understand what the rope is attached to, we may discover that there was very little reason to hold it so tightly.
For me, this is a practical way to approach Kabir’s teaching. Attend to the attachment. Understand what keeps it alive. Let that understanding gradually enter our choices, our speech, and our reactions.
Today, perhaps I can begin with one small thing: allow a disagreement to remain unresolved for a while, let a good deed go unannounced, or enjoy something without immediately wishing for more.
And then observe the mind.
How much of the weight we carry might ease if we stopped tightening our own grip?