Vimoh's Blog

Many religions say that what fuels us is something indestructible and, for all practical purposes, invisible – the soul. Hinduism believes that all living creatures — from the tiniest of germs to largest of the redwood trees — have a spirit energy fuelling them. This invisible field of energy does not end when the body is destroyed. It merely leaves the body, to return later on in another one.

Without going into the dynamics of reincarnation, karma, and the whole train of concepts that lie in that general direction (perhaps I will go there some other time), I would like to propose an argument in defense of the spirit/soul idea.

The scientific view of an organism is that it is a machine. A very complicated and highly developed machine, but a machine nevertheless. Science believes that all that is to be understood about an animal is in plain sight. All that we need are powerful enough instruments. Oddly enough, it is this very machine view that trumps science’s dismissal of the soul.

To me, proof of the soul’s existence lies in the difference between a living creature and a dead body. If organisms were simply a superior variety of machines, they would end in as straightforward a manner as machines do. But they don’t — there is a crucial difference.

Think about it. What differentiates a living being from a corpse? What really happens when we die? Machines stop working when a crucial function ends or when they run out of fuel. In case of humans, crucial functions end all the time. Accidents destroy vital organs, disease eats up parts of the body, various illnesses happen. But these are not the causes of death. If they were, we could (in theory at least) find cures to them and prevent death. What about the inevitable kind of death? What is it that causes a man to die of old age? What leaves him that does not come back?

We are told the body’s chemical composition changes, turning it from a life-supporting structure to something that is no longer suitable for the purpose. But truth be told, it is all guesswork. We don’t really know how chemical composition changes, or even if it does change. If we did, we would be able to change it back. If nutrition is what the body lacks, we would be able to give it nutrients and bring it back to life. If specific conditions are what caused someone to die, then we would be able to change those conditions and bring them back to life.

But we can’t do any of those things. What differentiates an organism from a machine is that beyond a point, it cannot be repaired.

None of the above “scientific” reasons are that crucial deciding factor between life and death. Science simply does not know what causes people to die. Conditions, failures, old age, accidents and diseases are mere circumstances. They do not cause death. Death happens when life leaves, whatever the reason. We can go ahead and make a list of things people die of and then proceed to find a cure for every single of those conditions, but people will still die. Science can’t “cure” death for the simple reason that science does not know what causes it.

What stands to logic however, is that something vital does leave the body at the time of death. Call it the immortal spirit, the pristine soul, life force, the aatma. Heck! Call it life if the other names sound fancy and magical – it doesn’t matter.

To be fair, it is entirely possible that one day there will be a scientific way to “see” this vital differentiator between life and death. But in order for that to happen, science has to start looking for it. Blunt denial of the soul’s existence will not get the job done.

When the Na’vi meet, they greet each other with, “I see you”. The phrase is more than a simple greeting though. “I see you” is an acknowledgement.

Think about it. Why tell someone you see them? Isn’t it obvious that you see them? Obvious unless you are implying something more than the obvious when you say “you”.

In India, the common greeting Namaskar or Namaste is no simple Hello. When one says Namaskar to someone, what it means is that he/she acknowledges the spark of the divine that is present inside them. Hinduism believes that God is an all-pervading force that envelopes all beings and things.

A great metaphor for this concept is The Force from the Star Wars movies. It is an invisible field of living energy that spreads across the galaxy and connects every creature in it to every other. In Avatar, the natives of planet Pandora realise this connectedness of all things too. Only, they call it Eywa instead of The Force.

What this acknowledgement means is simply empathy. It means that you acknowledge the other as one like yourself. It means that the ‘I’ and the ‘You’ are the same – parts of a bigger whole. Empathy and compassion are at the root of all great religions of the world.

What this awareness does is that it makes the individual recognise his place in the world. It makes him humble (like Yoda from Star Wars) and it makes him care for the world around him (like the Na’vi in Avatar).

Update: Gautam Ghosh points out on Twitter that the Zulu greeting Sawubona points in the same direction.

On my way to work (when I was working a year or so ago), I saw a billboard everyday. It had a bunch of kids posing in a variety of cool-seeming poses, wearing what the fashion store labelled fashionable then. The tag line was – Be Yourself.

Being one’s own self has to be the easiest of things, right? We are already what we are, and have always been that way. Is it even possible to be anything but ourselves?

And yet, we fake a lot. We work very hard to resemble the ideal of the ideal. Somewhere in the collective super-conscious mind that connects us all, there is resentment about this. The real self doesn’t like being bound and controlled. It is perhaps for that reason that the phrase ‘be yourself’ has such charm.

So, what part of me exactly is me? How much of my nature is really mine and how much of it is things I have learned to be? How can I know if I am myself (if that is at all possible)?

I don’t know. But I can make a few educated guesses. Let me start at the beginning.

I am looking for a version of myself minus the things I have learnt. So it probably makes sense to look for my answers in a time when no one has learnt anything much – infancy and early childhood.

Metaphysical author Dolores Cannon, in her book Between Death & Life, suggests that a spirit in course of its many earthly lives, develops a personality. So it is wrong to assume that when (if for all you non believers) we are reborn, we start with a fresh slate. Cannon says that in the earliest stages of life, a person remembers a lot of this ’spiritual personality’ and acts and makes choices accordingly.

Babies sometimes show qualities neither of the parents seem to possess. Were you a perfect fit in your family? I am not talking adoloscent rebelliousness here. But maybe long-standing differences of opinion, orientation, and even value systems?

Cannon says a baby brings with itself many qualities of the spirit. It can sense feelings and is incredibly good at sensing good or bad vibes. These qualities are dulled and eventually disappear as worldly ‘knowledge’ creeps upon and claims the baby’s conscious mind.

Some time ago, Ankesh pointed me towards the Myers-Briggs personality type assessment. Here is what the test advises one to do before starting:

In reviewing the comparisons in our inventory, you may find yourself drawn equally to opposing choices. In such cases I suggest you try to think back to how you were before the age of 12 or even younger if you can recall. The rationale for this suggestion is the fact that by the time we are 3 years old, the core of our cognitive organization is well-fixed… although the brain continues to allow some plasticity until puberty.

After the onset of puberty, our adult learning begins to overlay our core personality – which is when the blending of nature and nurture becomes more evident. For some people, this “learning” serves to strengthen what is already there, but with others it produces multiple faces to personality. Discovering or rediscovering this innate core of yourself is part of the journey of using personality type to enrich your life. (my personality type)

Going by either explanation, I think it is safe to assume one is most ‘oneself’ before he/she ‘grows up’.

Each is born with inclinations and a purpose of his/her own. Golu showed an amazing ability to remember things before he could even properly walk. He once amazed me and my mom by memorising an entire lullaby we used to sing to him.

Another nephew of mine, Om by name, loves wrestling. He wails until the channel flipping stops on a WWE match. He frequently cannonballs into unsuspecting sleeping relatives like a pro wrestler. He has hurt himself many times but it never stops him.

Untaught and natural, this is what they are. Of course it is possible for Golu to end up a clerk and Om an engineer, but they wouldn’t be their true self then. Robin Sharma, in his book The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari, says that in order to find one’s life purpose, one only needs to go back to the things that gave him/her joy as a child. Barbara J. Winter is of the same opinion:

As children we were all naturally intuitive. We had more dreams and fewer doubts. As time went by, the “guidance” we received may have dimmed the dreams and fueled the doubts. By the time we began thinking about how we would earn our living, we had received considerable advice that may have led us further away from our real desires.

Now then, back to the how to be yourself question. What differentiates us from the children we once were? Two things, in my opinion.

One is simplicity. We were lucid when we were babies. I may feel I need a lot of possessions to feel happy. But if I remember correctly, a spoonful of mixed-fruit jam was all it took to make Golu the happiest person in the world. All Om wants is someone to practice his tumble and roll routine on. Such is his focus that even meals appear to be chores.

The other thing we learn as we grow up is fear. Children aren’t really the most frightful creatures – not when they are doing their own thing anyway. But they realise soon enough that some things can hurt and cause them pain. They come to fear pain so much that the mere possibility of it causes them to retreat. After that it is only a matter of what pain is associated with. Independence is pain – they run. Love is pain – they run. Heck, people even associate pain with dreaming! Fear (of pain or anything else) is a crucial barrier between us and our self.

‘One’s own Dharma, even if followed imperfectly, is superior to someone else’s Dharma, even if followed perfectly. It is better to be slain while following one’s own Dharma. Someone else’s Dharma is tinged with fear’ – Bhagwad Gita, Chapter 3, Verse 35

When you are yourself, you will lose all fear. When you are yourself, your life will be so simple and yet so intoxicating, you will wonder why you were ever anything else. Truth be told, you will be wrong. You have never been anything but this!