Chapter 20 Soul

What is this "I" (atman, soul) you speak of? Is this soul consciousness itself? Or something else entirely?

In reality, whatever we call it, we will miss it; any conceptualization will be wrong. Therefore, anything known as "I" or "soul" is not real; it cannot be. All those who define it share the same problem in their definition; they are trying to do the absurd. They are talking about the unspeakable, defining the undefinable, constructing theories about something they cannot know.

There are three attitudes toward it.

First came the mystics, the knowers, who remained completely silent. They offered no definition, saying definitions were useless. Then came another group of mystics—the largest group—who said: “Even a futile effort can be helpful. Sometimes, even an untrue theory can lead to the truth; sometimes, even error can become correct; sometimes, even a false step can lead you to the right destination. It may seem false at this moment, or be proven false at the end, but a false design can still be helpful.”

This second group of people sensed that even in silence, you were still saying something, though of course nothing could be said. This second type of mystic grasped a key point: definition belonged to them. Then there was the third type, who were neither silent nor did they define; they simply denied the whole thing so that you wouldn't be captivated by it at all.

The Buddha belonged to this third category of people. If you asked him: Is there a soul? Is there a God? Is there an existence above life? He would deny it outright. Even on the verge of death, when someone asked him: Will you still exist after death? He still denied it.

He said, “No! I will not exist; I will withdraw from existence, like a flame going out.” You cannot ask where the flame goes out; it simply goes out. That is why the Buddha said that Nirvana means “the extinguishing of the flame,” not just Maksha. The Buddha said, “This is liberation: complete cessation. To exist is to exist somewhere, to exist in some way in slavery.” This is the third kind of person.

These three types of people have been arguing incessantly because those who speak must feel that those who remain silent are not compassionate enough, and they should say something to those who cannot understand tranquility. And those who define things—they define things in so many ways that they argue endlessly about it. The debate is bound to continue.

All definitions are designs. A person can define in any way. Mahavira is defined in one way, and Shankara in another; all definitions are the same falsehood or truth, there is no difference. How a person defines depends on what kind of person he is. There are too many definitions, and those definitions have turned into so many religions, so many philosophical systems. Now they have made the human mind so confused; indeed, sometimes, those who remain silent seem more compassionate. Definitions have become conflicts; one definition cannot allow another definition, otherwise it would be contradictory.

Mahavira tried to say that every definition contains some truth, but only some. Therefore, every definition contains some falsehood. But this is impossible if Mahavira wants many followers, because if you don't define things clearly, confused minds become even more confused. If you say, "Every path is correct," then you are saying, "There is no path there," and someone looking for a path will be completely confused. If I say, "Every path is correct, wherever you go, you will reach the sacred. Go anywhere, do anything, everything contains some truth," then you will not get any help from me. This is true, but it is still unhelpful.

If you define something in a particular way and make that definition absolute, then all other definitions become false. Because Shankara had to define something precisely, he might say, "The Buddha is not right; he is wrong." But if the Buddha is considered wrong, it only creates confusion. How can a Buddha be wrong? How can a Christ be wrong? Is Shankara the only one right? Thus, conflict arises.

Even the third attitude, the Buddha's attitude of denial, is unhelpful. It is unhelpful because through denial, the search is lost, and without searching, there is no need for denial. Very few people are capable of understanding what complete annihilation is. The desire for life is so deeply ingrained that even our pursuit of a god becomes a desire for life; in fact, we are pursuing more life. Even when we are pursuing Maksha, we are not pursuing complete death. We still want to exist in some way.

For 40 years, the Buddha was asked the same question: "If we want complete cessation, then why make this whole effort? It seems completely meaningless! Just to cease? Just to cease to exist? Why make this whole effort?" Those around the Buddha still felt he hadn't ceased; in reality, he had become more—that was their perception. The Buddha had become something more, yet he continued to deny it.

How can you define something that cannot be defined? But you either have to remain silent or you have to define it.