I’ve been sitting here for hours. It’s a funeral; my friend died.

At uncertain intervals people get off their plastic chairs, fine tune their careful solemnity, and walk slowly to the coffin. The coffin perplexes me.

See, this is my first funeral and I’m still trying to figure things out. My friend is gone—and what does this long box represent?

I thought it was empty. They said he was gone.

I get up and walk forward slowly… I stare at carpet out of duty… I reach the coffin, and take a curious look …

It shocked me so bad…

Bill’s right here!! He’s right here!! They told me Bill was gone — but here he is — right here in the coffin. Same eyes, same hair, same brain, same DNA.

I blurt, “Hey Billy! Man, you’re too wild, man! What kinda stunt is this!?” I wheel around to face the people. “Hey, it’s a practical joke or something, right? Bill’s not gone. He’s right here!”

Needless to say, I was escorted out. They stare at me in disbelief—“Are you from some other planet or something? Can’t you understand? That’s not Bill in the coffin. Bill’s gone, he’s gone.”

How can Bill be “gone” when his entire body is right there? Simple: he’s not the body.

All of Bill’s body is there in the coffin—even all his brain cells, his heredity, and his DNA—but Bill is gone. The body’s there, but the person is gone.

The person is not the body.

You can understand this form another angle if you’re willing to try a simple experiment. Go dig up your old baby pictures (Cute? I hope so). Anyway, find a mirror. Look at your body in the mirror. Look at your body in the pictures. Two very different bodies you got there—but both are somehow considered yours.

From a chubby little baby body to a “cool” adolescent body… and someday to a wrinkled-up old body. The body constantly changes, but you remain. Same person, changing body.

You are different from the body.

Doubt: You say that my body has been changing throughout my life, while I have remained the same person, and therefore I’m different from my body. I don’t agree. I think I have changed with my body. I am a different person now then I was ten years ago.

Answer: True. Not only does my physical body change, my mental body is also in a constant state of flux. Likes and dislikes change, goals and plans change, I even subtly change my concept of identity. This shows that the real me is neither the body nor the mind.

I remember being totally into dinosaurs and Little League, with my self-concept wrapped around a five-year old body and mind. I also remember being into Twisted Sister and leather jackets in junior high. But behind all my changing identifications is the changeless I. Otherwise, who went through all those changes and remembers them all?

Beyond the body and the mind is the real me.

Doubt: You say the body is always changing, and we remain through all the changes—so we must be different from the body. But the body isn’t totally changing. There are similarities between the body in the baby pictures and the body in the mirror. Brown eyes then, brown eyes now, etc. And the navy-anchor tattoo I just got will still be there when I’m 70.

Answer: If you study it closely you’ll see that the body really is always changing. Similarities in growth appear because cell structures like eyes and hair replicate themselves in specific patterns determined by DNA and stuff like that. Although the cells are constantly changing, there appear to be similarities, because they change within regular patterns.

The show is finished, and the equipment is loaded. The van sits before the front door, and I sit inside the van. It is cold and windy on the German shore.

Three guys approach—young, clean cut & straight-edged. They want to do an interview… “I don’t need Krishna,” says the spokesman, with an unforgettable German accent. “I have my own way.”

“That’s cool…” I say. “What ‘way’ is that”?

Lots of hesitation. Lots of stuttering. Lots of eyes darting back and forth between the three of them. Finally the spokesman speaks up: “I believe in my own self. I rely on my own self. I follow only my own self.”

“You believe in your self, rely on your self, and follow yourself. Great… Who is that self”?

More darting eyes and stuttering. Sentences begin, but are consumed by confusion, and silence dominates. They cannot answer.

I ask them, “How can you believe in it, rely on it, and follow it if you don’t even know what it is”?

Silence is spoken in German.

“See, that’s why you do need Krishna consciousness.”

No comment returned.

“The first point is that the self is not the body”.

He sits up straight in the van chair and says, “Yes. I am not the body. I am the collection of the ideals that my brothers and I share in common.”

“These ideals are not the self,” I say. “They’re all impressed upon you from out-side yourself.”

They eventually agree: The self is beyond the body and ideals of the mind. Then I ask, “We know what the self isn’t. But, what is it?”

“The spirit?”

“Yeah. The self is a particle of spirit, a part of the complete spirit. Just like a guitar string is a part of the complete guitar. If you rip off that guitar string and throw it on the sidewalk out here—what value does it have?”

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, not a whole lot,” I say. “It’s useless. But when you connect that string to the complete guitar, tune it up and that—it has so much value, right? It can make music. It can make songs… The string is valuable when it works for the complete guitar; but on its own, sitting on the sidewalk, it’s worthless. The part becomes useless when it’s not connected to the complete unit.”

They nod.

“The self, the individual spirit,” I continued, “is a part of the complete spirit. When the self tries to live separately from the complete self, he or she is like the guitar string rusting on the sidewalk. And  that’s what we’ve done—disconnected ourselves from the Complete. Just like the guitar string, our value is forgotten, our meaning is forgotten. Most of our time is spent trying to fill in the gaps of a hollow life as we loiter on the sidewalk.”

“The real nature of the self,” I enthusiastically continue, “is to serve the complete self, just like the string serves the complete guitar and reaches its highest expression and fulfillment in the process.”

“What do you mean, ‘complete self’?” they ask.

“You know: Krishna. The highest expression of the self is to serve Krishna.”

“Oh.” 

“That’s what it really means to ‘follow yourself’..That’s Krishna consciousness”.

They were thoughtful. I was thankful. 

Vic DiCara

There may sometimes be arguments about whether “truth” and “beauty” are compatible terms. One would willingly agree to express the truth, one might say, but since truth is not always beautiful—indeed, it is frequently rather startling and unpleasant—how is one to express truth and beauty at the same time?

In reply, we may inform all concerned that “truth” and “beauty” are compatible terms. Indeed, we may emphatically assert that the actual truth, which is absolute, is always beautiful. The truth is so beautiful that it attracts everyone, including the truth itself. Truth is so beautiful that many sages, saints, and yogis have left everything for the sake of truth. Every one of us has the urge to search for truth. Unfortunately, people have no information of the actual truth. Indeed, the great majority of people in all walks of life are pursuing untruth only, in the name of truth. We are actually attracted by the beauty of truth, but since time immemorial we have been habituated to love untruth appearing like truth. Therefore, to a mundane person, “truth” and “beauty” are incompatible terms. Mundane truth and beauty may be explained as follows.

Once a man who was very powerful and strongly built, but whose character was questionable, fell in love with a beautiful girl. This girl had great philosophical insight and was thus aware that she was actually the nonphysical conscious self, which is inherently different from the physical body. Therefore she did not like the man’s advances. The man, however, was insistent because of his lusty desires, and therefore the girl requested him to wait only seven days, and she set a time after that when he could meet her. The man agreed, and with high expectations he began waiting for the appointed time. The girl, however, adopted a method to instruct him about the actual nature of her physical body. She took very strong doses of laxatives and purgatives, and for seven days she continually passed loose stool and vomited all that she ate. Moreover, she stored all the loose stool and vomit in suitable pots. As a result of the purgatives, the so-called beautiful girl became lean and thin like a skeleton, her complexion turned blackish, and her beautiful eyes sank into the sockets of her skull.

Thus, at the appointed hour she waited anxiously to receive the eager man. The man appeared on the scene well dressed and well behaved and asked the ugly girl he found waiting there about the beautiful girl he was to meet. The man could not recognize the girl he saw as the same beautiful girl for whom he was asking; indeed, although she repeatedly asserted her identity, because of her pitiable condition he was unable to recognize her. At last the girl told the powerful man that she had separated the ingredients of her beauty and stored them in pots. She also told him that he could enjoy those juices of beauty. When the mundane poetic man asked to see the juices of beauty, he was directed to the store of loose stool and liquid vomit, which were emanating an unbearably bad smell. Thus the whole story of the beauty liquid was disclosed to him. Finally, this man of low character was able to distinguish between the shadow and the substance, and thus he came to his senses.

This man’s position is similar to that of every one of us who is attracted by false, material beauty. The girl mentioned above had a beautiful physical body, but in fact she was apart from that temporary body. She was in fact a spiritual spark, and so also was the lover who was attracted by her false skin. Mundane intellectuals and aesthetics, however, are deluded by the outward beauty and attraction of the relative truth and are unaware of the spiritual spark, which is both truth and beauty at the same time. The spiritual spark is so beautiful that when it leaves the so-called beautiful physical body, which in fact is full of stool and vomit, no one wants to touch that body, even if it is decorated with a costly costume. We are all pursuing a false, relative truth, which is incompatible with real beauty. The actual truth, however, is permanently beautiful, retaining the same standard of beauty for innumerable years. That spiritual spark, which is who we actually are, is indestructible. The beauty of the outer skin can be destroyed in only a few hours merely by a dose of a strong purgative, but the beauty of truth is indestructible and always the same. Mundane artists and intellectuals are ignorant of this beautiful spiritual spark.