Ānandoham – I am ever-blissful. This is the ultimate truth, as declared by the scriptures, rishis, enlightened ones. Yet, how come your experience is, “I am the body, this body is me”? This identification, called adhyāsa, is a mere illusion and the root cause of all misery and confusion. Let us explore this fundamental problem and how to break free from it.
Every Body Is Mortal
Identifying with your body makes you believe you are a man or woman of a certain age, with certain traits – tall, short, healthy, sick, happy, sad, rich, or poor. But deep down, you know what you have can be lost in a second. Even those who have never attended a satsang know this, “My loved ones are here today, but they might not be tomorrow.”
This is why we buy insurance for everything – our cars, our homes, and even our bodies. Have you ever talked to an insurance agent? One agent approached Natvar Lal, saying, "Nattu bhai, you should get life insurance." Nattu’s wife asked why, and the agent replied, "Does he smoke? Worry too much? Sleep little?" When she confirmed, the agent said, "He is bound to have a heart attack – it is guaranteed." Nattu's wife agreed, "Yes, he never listens to me. But I will not be a poor widow, so I will sign up!" Anyone who has bought life insurance understands that the body can die at any moment.
I once saw a video of people dying suddenly, without any warning or accident. A person collapses on the street, another drops dead in a store, and yet another dies mid-celebration at a birthday party. Well, death can strike at any moment. This is why we obsess over superfoods like blueberries, quinoa, and turmeric, as deep down, we all know that the body is not eternal – it has an expiration date. Lamentably, there is no label on the body, like on a jar of jam: "Expiry date: December 2026."
Ironically, no one is ready to die. The identification with the body is so strong that, although you know it is true, you refuse to accept it. Even more than your own death, you fear losing your loved ones. Yet the truth is simple: everything born has a date of death. A mosquito may live through childhood, youth, adulthood and old age in only ten days, while for you, it may take seventy years or more, but every body is mortal.
The truth is, however, that bodies will come and go, but you have never been born and will never die. This physical frame is mortal, but you are immortal. You are that existence without a beginning or end. On the contrary, the body is just like a bubble – water takes the shape of a bubble and contains air in it, and after some time the bubble bursts and only water remains. This body, too, is like a bubble containing some air.
Adi Shankaracharya says beautifully in his Moha Mudgara (lit. “the hammer of delusion”, also called Bhaja Govindam):
Yāvat pavano nivasati dehe
Tāvat prcchati kuśalam gehe I
Gatvāti vāyor dehapāye
Bhāryā bibhyati tasmin kāye II 6 II
As long as air resides in the body, so long people will ask you, “How are you?” And the day the air leaves your body, the wife will look at the corpse with amazement. Then, nobody will ask about your welfare anymore. As long as air is in your body, you have relationships with people around you; the moment it moves out, the body drops dead and nobody is going to ask you anything. So, is it you who lives in this body or air?
Life Is Prāna, and So Is Death
There are five types of "air" (vāyu) functioning in the body called: prāna, apāna, samāna, udāna and vyāna. From the head to the navel is the area of prāna, enabling the intake of food, drink, oxygen and experiences. From heart to navel is the area of samāna vāyu, which governs digestion and assimilation of nutrients. Below the navel is the site of the apāna vāyu – apāna means “moving outward”, and it is responsible for the discharge of faeces, urine, semen, menstrual fluids and giving birth. Udāna moves upward, particularly governing the sense organs and speech, as well as growth, enthusiasm and will. Lastly, vyāna pervades the whole body and is responsible for circulation. Additionally, there are five subtypes of vāyus enabling blinking of eyes, yawning, hiccups, et cetera. (More information can be found in the book Health & Healing Through Yoga). All these are collectively also referred to as prāna, the cosmic life force.
The intricate functioning of the neurological, digestive, circulatory and lymphatic systems happens as long as prāna is in the body. The moment it moves out, the body drops dead. Death happens when prāna exits the body because prāna is the bridge – without it, the ten senses of perception and action will stop working. Life is prāna, and so is death! Even the degradation of the corpse is managed by a subtype of prāna called dhananjaya. You have no clue about this cosmic force because you have never given it your attention. The science of knowing how prāna puts life into the body is called yoga. Yoga is not just about doing āsanas or breathing techniques, it is much more than that.
Our yogis have very beautifully exhibited their mastery over these systems. For example, in clinical trials, Swami Rama would stop his heartbeat and breathing – the doctors present signed his death certificate! After twenty minutes, he brought back his vital parameters. Adept yogis can even leave their bodies at will. But this ability requires a lot of dedicated practice for a very long time, and still, it may not be achieved in one lifetime.
Who is it that dies? There is a story in the Rāmāyana: After Rama had killed Bali, Bali’s wife Tara was inconsolably crying over the dead body of her husband. Rama addressed her: “For whom are you crying? The body is right in front of you. Are you crying for prāna? The prāna was never your husband. Are you crying for his mind? His mind is subtle and has not gone anywhere, it still exists. Are you crying for his jeevātma, the individual soul? It was never your husband and has nothing to do with you. It was seated in this body, and both of you had a relationship to settle some karmic accounts. That account was annulled, and the time came to drop his body, so he has gone.”
How many things make up what you call "I"? Take a moment to examine this. The most visible aspect of "you" is your elemental body, composed of earth, water, fire, air, and space. But you do not own these elements, nor did you or even your parents create them. When the air outside enters the body, it becomes your breath. You say, “I am breathing”. But when you say "I," are you referring to the body, the senses, or prāna? Are you speaking of the mind, the subconscious, or the intellect? This requires deep exploration.
You Are Not the Body
You are neither the body nor the air residing in it! Your perception, however, is contrary to that. In Vedānta, this is called adhyāsa (superimposition): the merging of two separate things, where one is placed over the other. For example, the sky looks blue, but the sky itself is not blue. The blueness is a projection created by the Earth’s atmosphere and sunlight. At sunrise, the sky may appear yellow or orange, but it is not inherently so. These colours are merely imposed upon the empty space.
The body and "I" – this body has been superimposed onto me due to ignorance. This adhyāsa is an illusion. Just as the sky appears blue but is not, you perceive yourself as the body, but you are not. When the body is sick, you say, “I am sick,” but in reality, it is the body that is sick, not you. The body may be strong or weak, young or old, but you identify with those states – “I am strong”, “I am weak”, “I am young”, or “I am old.” But you are neither strong nor weak, young nor old, fair nor dark, man nor woman.
When Ramakrishna Paramahamsa had cancer, he was sighing in pain. Someone asked, “Thakur, are you in pain?” He replied, “No.” “Then why are you sighing?” they asked. He explained, “The body is in pain, so the body is sighing. But I am not in pain.” The state of a gyāni (realised being) is that of ānandoham – I am ever-blissful. And this is not a state to be in. I am bliss. If you ever see any gyāni moaning in pain, do not assume that they have lost their realisation. What happens to the body is a matter of the body alone. My true nature is paramānanda – supreme bliss. Not a mediocre one, not of low quality; supreme ānanda! That is who I am.
As long as you regard the body as self, you will experience misery and confusion. To break this illusion is the job of gyāna (knowledge). It is like hitting the bull's-eye – once the shackles of this illusion are broken, all your fears and insecurities will vanish. Not a cheap bargain! This can be experienced right now if you understand it totally. But many doubts are lurking in your mind, so we must first remove them through consistent listening and reflection. You might not get everything immediately, but be patient with yourself and allow your intellect to open up.
In addition, create a peaceful, equanimous state of mind through prānāyāma and meditation to enhance your grasping power. Yaari Sahib says: “If you wish to know the truth, be like a tortoise.” The tortoise withdraws its limbs and head into its hard shell when in danger. Here, Sahib points to internalising the senses, arresting all outward tendencies and bringing the mind to its core. So, meditate and reflect again and again.
