Reflecting on Plato's "Allegory of the cave"

I was this candle that never burned
I was this piece of matter that exists in this universe without purpose
I was this drop of life that thought I breathe and therefore I am
 
There was a deep cave in the forest, a cave so dark with an entrance so small that no light managed to cross through the mouth of the cave to light up its walls inside. But something was strange about this cave for within its walls lived a group of people. They had lived there for many years with their hands tied and their faces to the wall that stood opposite to the mouth of the cave. This was their life, this is how they had always been, this is what they had been taught to do and this was how they existed. Every day the only awakening they had was the changing colors of the wall in front of them. It turned white in the early hours of the morning, moving to a bright yellow by noon and changing to a glowing orange by evening and then to inky blackness by night. And they were happy to live, in this familiar little world of known comforts to see these colors repeat themselves on the wall of the cave.

For some this was a common occurrence, for a few others it didn’t strike a chord at all but for one man in their midst, it was a growing miracle, that flowered every day and faded by night to bloom again in the morning. He was a romantic, a poet in his heart and though the others mocked at him, he sang to himself, certain that there was more to these miraculous colors but strange as it may sound, none of them ever turned to see the mouth of the cave to ever figure out what was really happening. They continued to live as they were, creating imaginary problems in their lives and solving them as they went along, the only assurance in their reality was the periodic change in the colors on the wall.

It was one such day, very normal to their lives as the white turned to yellow and then to a glow of orange. But strangely that night there was a burning glow of red on the wall instead of the inky blackness. This sent shock through all those within, leading to fear of the unfamiliar and horror over the change in regular pattern. The glow of red grew brighter and danced around the walls, leaving them puzzled wondering what kind of strange heavenly phenomenon could this be? Speculations ran wild, sentiments were hurt as people hurled fiery words at each other insisting that they were right but none of them even turned around to the mouth of the cave. And then there was peace, the deep red turned to the familiar inky blackness they were so comfortable with and they retired for the night.

The next day started again as always but by evening the burning orange gave way to the crimson red that leaped all over the walls increasing the fear of the people inside who wondered what magical phenomenon this was. But this time one of the men decided he would do what no one else dared. He believed in his miracle, he believed there was a God and he decided to dare and see what was at the mouth of the cave. What caught his eyes were the leaping flames of a breath taking fire, so bright and graceful as it climbed through the air in its glorious shades of color. He turned back in excitement, he couldn’t withstand the bliss he felt of having seen the glimpse of divinity at the entrance of the cave. He tried to explain the phenomenon to the others, that it was a leaping flame at the entrance of the cave but no one was ready to hear him and no one really wanted to know the secret of the glowing flames.

That evening and even stranger event occurred. As the cave dwellers got used to the glowing red, they were now comfortable to see its dancing hues of the wall and that event too was no more than an occurrence from the position it held as a miracle some time ago. But this night it was even weirder. As they continued to look up to the wall in all its glowing redness, there suddenly appeared stark black forms that sprang around the wall. They were fast, agile and sure footed, they barely stayed in one place, they flew faster than anyone to spot them in a single place. They were real and they grew larger and shrunk slowly and disappeared into the redness. The cave dwellers looked on again at the wall with horror, wondering what was going on. They feared the worst that all hell broke loose to come and grab them and vanquish them all.

And once again the same man decided to take a second change and turn to the mouth of the cave. This time he turned to see something even more spectacular. There was a group of beautiful women, so beautiful and so richly dressed, so graceful and so magical, he breathlessly looked on to seeing them float around the glowing flames dancing with its burning arms as if in an enigmatic embrace. Their bodies glowed in yellow gold, their skin shimmered in the red glow of the light as then enjoyed the moment of love and beauty while they hopped around the flames is such splendor. And then the inky blackness of the night shrouded this beautiful view he just had a glimpse of. He was too excited the next morning and tried to explain to the others in the cave, about the fire and the women. They called him mad, they thought he was insane and they mocked at him to make him a recluse, disowning him for his thoughts and for this excitement over things that never were real, that never took place for what they saw were giant beings on the wall and what he tried to explain was the shadows of damsels dancing around a fire. He was beaten by all, to have even shared such a wild imagination for no one believed in any such occurrence.

He didn’t give up, for he sang out loud, he burst into poetry to describe the women he had set his eyes on. He sang about the red glow, about the fire and about the graceful women who threw stark shadows on the wall. He was proclaimed mad and in a few days he was beaten for spreading such wild thoughts to scare the people and shake the peace in which they lived. He was considered a misfit and unanimously elected to be stoned to death. As be breathed his last, he sang out loud, describing how a damsel danced by the flames, only to have her golden gown catch fire and set herself ablaze and be swallowed by the same fire that threw the red glow on the walls.

Many days later, the men continued to live on, staring at the same wall that shined bright yellow again. But the red glow had long gone, long disappeared for it seemed uncanny that it faded the very same time the man breathed his last. There was eerie silence in the cave, as the rest of them continued to be, alone in their silence, uncomfortable with their existence. And then it happened, a strong wind blew and raised the dust in the cave. The wind was strong and forced them to bend low and close their eyes. And as the dust 
settled, they slowly opened their eyes to look up to the wall... a small piece of a golden cloth, half burnt and faded, flew along the wall to disappear into the inner darkness of the cave... 

They looked up at the wall and then into the darkness in shock.. and all they could remember were his last words as he died singing away...

I am the fire that burns this candle
I am the glow that give the diamond its life
I am the soul that leave this body
I am the truth you killed with all your might.

I am your only hope to salvation
I am that which you do not wish to seek
I am the free bird who dared to turn
I am the light that now leaves this cave.

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Reflecting on the Allegory of the cave

The Allegory of the Cave, also commonly known as Myth of the Cave, Metaphor of the Cave, The Cave Analogy, Plato's Cave or the Parable of the Cave, is an allegory  used by the Greek philosopher Plato in his work The Republic to illustrate "our nature in its education and want of education". (514a) The allegory of the cave is written as a fictional dialogue between Plato's teacher Socrates  and Plato's brother Glaucon, at the beginning of Book VII in Benjamin Jowett's translation and in chapter IX in Robin Waterfield's translation(514a–520a).

Here's more on Plato's Allegory of the cave

The character of Maya

Adi Shankaracharya has composed 5 stanzas of excellence that describe Maya.

Three Stanzas that really made me smile are:

Stanza 2: Maya, which is an adept at making the impossible happen, makes even those who have mastered the Vedas and Upanishads behave no better than a four legged animal by tempting them with wealth and possessions. What a pity!

Stanza 4: Maya, which is an adept at making the impossible happen, creates in the pure bliss-consciousness which is devoid of attributes such as caste, creed and the like, the notion of "I"-ness, of looking upon oneself as Brahmana, Vaisya etc. as well as attachment to son, wife and home

Stanza 5: Maya, which is an adept at making the impossible happen, creates in Brahman which is homogeneous, without any parts, distinctions such as Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva and thereby perplexes even the learned by making them look upon Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva as different from one another.

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When we see a movie we get emotionally involved in the story, we feel we are a part and we emote with the actors and have opinions of good and bad, right and wrong, funny and smart etc as the characters unfold. As the plot thickens, and the movie gets gripping, we forget the outside world and once the movie is over we snap out of this illusory world of which we were a part for the last 3 hours.

Life as you and I know is quite something like that. Here the plot appears much more real, the players are real, the problems appear real and we come with a preconditioned mindset that doesn’t allow us to see beyond. This is the world of Maya. There is nothing new about it. The only thing we tend to forget is that the movie reel is generated in the mind.

Through each day we wake up to, through each sun rise we see in our lives, the mind sets itself to a set of tasks that need to be done, people who need to be dealt with, moments that need to be lived. The mind works within a framework of thought and emotion, thought that creates the perception and related emotion that makes a person experience it. And so, we get so sucked into it that we fail to see that our perception of the event is a working of our mind and not the actual event in itself.

Once that distinction is made a few questions can come forward. Few questions that are dared not mentioned in a social environment because perception reigns supreme, and collective perception is very dangerous to deal with. Therefore, everyone wants to be perceived the right way irrespective of whether they are that way or not. And it’s amazing; our entire life just goes off in this perception building contest, with a never ending list of events to support. What a waste of time and live and energy!

Spiritualism addresses this illusion, this perception contest that we are in, all the time, at home, at work and among friends. To most this Maya appears like the only thing life has to offer, but to some this is the most claustrophobic environment to live in. The nature of Maya is that of a thick cloud that envelops us, and its presence as an illusion that cages us, becomes even more apparent when we begin to want out of this illusionary drama we are forced to play every moment. But when does one get this feeling of suffocation?

If we have it in us, the thought should arise in itself and question what the word illusion is in the scriptures. It’s a widely used term with no explanation that draws a parallel in our real life. So let’s take a real life situation. Living in a corporate world can be one of the most energy sapping experiences since we want to do things our way and at the same time dance to the whim and fancy of others. We can have a missile coming at us anytime so we work hard enough to make this perception work in our favor, much more harder than we actually work on the job given! There are only 2 ways out of this long endless journey, either we get sucked into it or we want out. If we get sucked into it, there is no way we are ever going to realize the density of this cloud but when we begin to want out, is when the suffocation can really hit.

On one side is the materialism we are used to, on another the greed for that monthly income that sustains our world, and on the third side we have a jumping mind that doesn’t quite know which way to go and we are so controlled by it.

The best example I can think of to describe Maya or illusion is like its a radio channel. The best time to experience it is when we are coming out of anesthesia. Doctors advice that the patient will mumble things which should not be paid heed to as they largely "don’t make sense". The "don’t make sense" describes the presence of the subconscious and that apparent reality of which we feel we are a complete part before we come back into this world. It’s the only time the subconscious and the conscious world are in equal footing for a few hours before we tune back into this world. We live in two places, and if we look close enough the subconscious takes over as dream by night. Its another real world we belong to in a different state. How then can we dismiss it?

Given that our conscious state is far stronger than the subconscious state, we tend to believe we belong to only one world. But when we wake up from a dream or come out of anesthesia we realize we belonged to another world far more strong in emotions and intensity but far more subtle at the same time. What a fantastic world to be in. If the subconscious were that real, we would be of a different nature. Our intensity would be of a much more superior nature, our presence would be much more overpowering and there would be no room for superficial living. The power of the mind is amazing, and God alone knows how different the real world would look then.

Sweet people wake up, for if we thought we were awake and living... we are in deep sleep right now for the subconscious calls and that road is defined as spiritualism.

Maya, an Integral part of Shakti

Vaishno Devi Shrine

The Thirumanthiram quotes:

"From thence evoluted Maya
Latent in Shakti like lustre in crystal
Mighty its power
Beyond power of speech to recount."

There is such beauty in this line. Isn't it our perception that rules us more than what really exists in reality?

This is a small example of how our own perception can imprison us into this web of Maya that we make judgments based on our own futile ignorance. I visited the doctor recently for a minor checkup. As I discussed about my ailment to the doctor, I noticed a skull kept high up on the wall that immediately took my fascination. I requested the doctor to allow me to hold the skull in my hand. It was an amazing feeling, to hold something so remote, so feared, and so repulsed. I looked closely at it and imagined myself at a shamshan ghat holding the same thing by night, near the fire and sprinkling mantras to the air calling the Goddess Kali to my doorstep. I smiled and kept it back.

When we reached home later, I raised this subject with my mother, who had also visited the clinic with me. She seemed very comfortable with me holding this skull in my hand at the clinic, but she had no idea about my thoughts :). I asked her the question again. It was so peaceful, and so harmless to hold this skull in the doctor's office. But if I had worn an orange or red outfit, smeared large amounts of Kumkum on my forehead, held this very same skull in my hand in the darkest of nights at a different location, a shamshan ghat for example, and done nothing else, how would she have reacted to it? It was equally harmless there too, and I am calling no Goddess or indulging in any malevolent practice and yet I would have looked deadly, scary and mystically more powerful than ever.

Isn't this perception? Isn't this the description of a mind working overtime, with biased information already fed in; that anyone in this attire in this time of the night holding such objects is "evil" or "scary" and better off left alone? But should I walk into a doctor's office and wear simple clothes and a much smaller Kumkum, in light, I would appear so much more friendly! And yet... the "I" is missing in both these perceptions.

None of these two perceptions describes my personality. None of these two perceptions looks at me the human being and my nature of what I am, but both focus entirely on the exterior of what I wear and how I appear. In short both the perceptions are deceived by my "luster" and none really look at the quality of the "crystal" within me.

Similarly, in this beautiful poetic verse described by the great sage Tirumular, Maya is described as the perception we have of the Goddess and not the Goddess herself. Maya, with all its complications is but a figment of our imagination. It’s an illusion we simply love, are too familiar with and do not want to get out of, so much so that we make it difficult for those who want to try.

Maya, is such a thick cloud of illusion that it doesn't let our mind, or senses even seek that which is in our subconscious. It is so full of deceptive action that we spend our waking hours, our concentration, our time, and our energy trying to live in that illusion without even realizing we have spent so much wasted effort in the wrong place. Maya is that barrier that exists between our consciousness and the world that lives in our subconscious and that glimpse is best found in its purity when we try to seek it within ourselves.

If we were to live this verse as sung in the Thirumanthiram, then we need to be aware of the conscious world, and not let it affect us, making it insignificant enough that it has little or no value in the world that lies within us in our subconscious. The Goddess to whom we have given form and color and power, is that inner energy that we still fail to realize is lying buried within us, unknown and we still remain enamored by the luster of life, of Maya.

Shakti is that which is beyond the Maya as we know it, Shakti is described as that which is beyond the life as we define it and Shakti is that which we experience when we attempt to take a dip into the subconscious world we have built within ourselves. We still remain blindly disposed to the luster of life, we barely even know where the crystal is to be found. The real beauty is within and we so don't have the power to conquer it for we fall to its luster, to its Maya, to its glitter, to our perception of it.

In the darkness of the subconscious, beyond the illusive light of this luster, lies the power of Mata, of the Goddess that remains untouched. She sits there silent, in darkness, in her reddish sheen so subtle that we do not know how to define and perceive her beauty. She is pure, sacred, and formless but her presence is experienced in her warmth as a beautiful Goddess, shining bright as her golden halo radiant with life, the crescent moon glows like a drop of amrita that rests on her all divine self. This is her all encompassing self that is so beautiful to experience, that even words fail to break the barrier of speech to describe her.

She is silence, She is void, She is light, She is beauty.

The only way to reach her is to bring the mind under control, with repeated thoughts focused on her such that we breath, think and live with thoughts only about the Mother and nothing else really matters. At the end of some time, the conscious state tunes itself to the same depth in thought to the subconscious so much that there is really no difference between both the worlds. This is when a thick cloud of illusion becomes a thin line and perception is now as pure are real.