No one is going to hold it against us if we are disappointed with the world. Life was messy even before the pandemic, but now it’s gotten messier still. While we try to figure out the best way to deal with our disappointments, it is helpful to remember that disappointments have the potential to kickstart a serious pursuit of spiritual life.
What makes us turn to spiritual life? There may be different answers to this question. But all of those answers would be mere variations of one basic reason—disappointment. It is disappointment in one form or another that opens the door to spiritual life. If we are not disappointed in any way, if we have all the peace, freedom, knowledge, and happiness that we seek, what need have we of God and religion and spirituality? We don’t need them.
But the reality of life is not pretty. We want peace, but what we get instead are anxieties, tensions and conflicts. We want freedom, but every step and every breath remind us that we are not really free. Our boasted independence sounds hollow when we recognize how much dependent we are on others. We want knowledge, but everything we get to know makes us aware of a hundred other things we don’t know. Our knowledge is really the knowledge of our ignorance. We want happiness, but the more we pursue it, the more it eludes us. Life is not fun anymore. It doesn’t give us what we want. It just makes use of us to perpetuate itself. It victimizes us. It deceives us. It kills us. No wonder we are disappointed.
Not everyone feels like this, of course. But that is not because they’ve never known disappointment. Disappointed everyone becomes sometime or other, for one reason or other, in one way or other. But in most people disappointments don’t leave any lasting scars. People learn sooner or later to get on with their lives, never mind the occasional hiccups. They are a part of the game. Why get bogged down by these? Besides, there is always the unexpressed, silent hope that better days will come. The hope for better times desensitizes to some extent the pangs and pains of the present disappointment.
Secondly, there is the almost unconscious response to fight away our disappointments. This is done by trying to remove the causes that led to the present situation. That we never fully succeed in our efforts doesn’t seem to matter. The effort to fight off disappointment keeps us busy, enough to blunt its pain.
Thirdly, when fight is not possible or when it is given up midway in a no-win situation, we resort to flight. This is relatively easy. We just focus elsewhere by seeking some diversion in order to forget the present disappointment. Sometimes we succeed, but mostly the disappointment resurfaces after a while.
Although we all have our share of disappointments, we manage to keep afloat somehow instead of getting drowned in them. For most of us, this is what “life” means. There are good times and there are bad times. If we can weather the bad times, we can enjoy the good times. Rain and sunshine, night and day, tears and laughter are inseparable. Take both or take none. Make the most of your lot and, for Heaven’s sake, stop crabbing. Work out your karma the best way you can.
This philosophy is quite practical and satisfies most people—but not all. There are a few who just cannot get over their disappointments. They have tried their utmost and failed. They ask: Isn’t there any way out? If I cannot help myself and if no one around too can help me, is that the end of the line for me? Is there nothing that can be done? After everything else is tried, some of us come around to asking: maybe God will help me?
This is how disappointment opens the door to God. We try everything humanly possible and we fail. We realize our limitedness, our frailty, our vulnerability. So we turn to someone who is believed to be unlimited, all-powerful, all-merciful, kind, and just. We turn to God.
Four kinds of people turn to God, says the Gītā, 7.16:
चतुर्विधा भजन्ते मां जना: सुकृतिनोऽर्जुन । आर्तो जिज्ञासुरर्थार्थी ज्ञानी च भरतर्षभ ॥
caturvidhā bhajante māṁ janāḥ sukṛtino’rjuna,
ārto jijñāsur-arthārthī jñānī ca bharatarṣabha.
“Four types of people worship me: the distressed (artā) or the relief seeker, the enjoyment seeker (arthārthī); the knowledge seeker (jijñāsu); and the wise (jñānī) or the spiritual seeker.”
All of these four types are a disappointed lot. Those who are distressed—that is, the first type—are obviously suffering. But the others are suffering too in a different way and for different reasons.
The Relief Seeker (ārta) is disappointed because of afflictions. The distressed person may be suffering from a physical or mental illness. Today Covid is the first thing that comes to mind. Maybe some other disease that is incurable. Maybe medical aid is not readily available. Maybe tensions have developed in the family and reconciliation seems impossible. Maybe the person is trying to give up smoking or alcohol or drugs and is feeling frustrated by failure. Maybe business is down and creditors are knocking at the door. Maybe a dear one is dead and the person is feeling empty, lonely, sorrow-sick. … Enough examples already. A full listing can fill volumes and still be incomplete. The heart of the matter is that the person is suffering, has tried every possible way to overcome the suffering and failed, and has now turned to God for succor, solution, remedy.
The Enjoyment Seeker (arthārthī) is disappointed because of unfulfilled desires. What is this person suffering from? From restlessness, frustration and pain produced by desires that won’t satisfy and don’t end. The Sanskrit term for this second type is arthārthī (a combination of two words: artha + arthī). Arthī means desirer or seeker; artha means an object of desire. Thus the enjoyment seekers are those “who seeks the objects of their desire.” Because worldly prosperity makes the satisfaction of many desires easy, arthārthī can be also be translated as “prosperity seeker.” Because money plays a vital role in the world today and it is the wealthy who are considered prosperous, arthārthī may also be translated as “wealth seeker.” Holding positions of power facilitates the fulfillment of certain desires, so arthārthī can also refer to a “power seeker.”
Whichever way we understand the term arthārthī, the bottom line is that the person is suffering because of unfulfilled desires. Few people care to pause and look deeply. If they did, they would see very clearly that desire by its very nature can never be “fulfilled” in the true sense of the term. As soon as one desire is fulfilled, its clone has already sprung up, gently nudging us to repeat the experience. There are gazillion such desires lurking in the unexamined, uncleaned corners of the mind, waiting for a suitable opportunity to pounce on us and to overwhelm us. The enjoyment seekers realize that human power is too feeble and limited to satisfy the vigorous, unlimited appetite for enjoyment. So they turn to God, and pray for the fulfillment of desires.
The Knowledge Seeker (jijñāsu) is disappointed because of ignorance. There is enormous suffering due to the acute awareness of not knowing what must be known. There is so much to learn, so much to know! The knowledge seeker realizes that time is limited and the capacity of the human brain is limited too. Those who have felt the pangs of intellectual hunger know that it can be a lot more excruciating than physical hunger.
The seekers of knowledge are in many respects more evolved than the first two types, the relief seeker and the enjoyment seeker. The first two are more concerned with their physical and mental problems and appetites than with the intellectual. They are, so to speak, immersed in the lower planes of human existence and have little time and inclination for anything higher. But the knowledge seekers have become aware of another dimension of human personality, a dimension which opens out a new world before them.
Even as the exploration on the intellectual plane is exciting and inspiring, it too has its own chemistry, its own problems and appetites. Confronting the problems on the intellectual plane, the knowledge seeker is often able to rise above them and transcend the problems on the physical and mental planes. Wrestling with the appetite on the intellectual plane, the seeker’s physical and mental appetites lose their sting and urgency. Hunger for knowledge drives them to seek God’s help. Through God’s grace, intellectual ability can be developed and strengthened, and the obstacles to the acquisition of knowledge can be minimized.
The Spiritual Seeker (jñānī) is disappointed with the world. The term jñānī means the knower or the wise. What has this person known? Why is this person wise? This person has understood, at long last, that disappointments are inseparable from the kind of life we all live and experience today. There are limitations and problems at every level—physical, intellectual, emotional. Disappointments are a part of the package. When we realize this intensely, our disappointments no longer arise from limited causes such as physical or mental distress, unfulfilled desires, or awareness of ignorance. Our disappointment becomes more pervasive. Realizing the total worthlessness, emptiness, meaninglessness of the world, we become disappointed with the world itself, not merely with the things in the world.
A total disappointment requires a total remedy. So there is no question about seeking limited remedies such as physical or mental relief, sensual enjoyment, or intellectual satisfaction. What we seek, at this stage, is something—anything—that is not a part of this world, something beyond, something or someone that transcends this world. That something is the spiritual truth. Or, if we like, that someone is God.
This is why jñānī (lit. “the knower”) is really a spiritual seeker. This seeker is done with everything worldly. Everything material is rejected because its hollowness has been exposed. Now begins the spiritual quest, or the quest for the spirit—now begins, we might say, the quest for God.
Although spiritual seekers are just one among the four types of seekers, they belong to a class of their own. They are special. Sri Krishna says as much in the Gītā, 7. 18:
उदारा: सर्व एवैते ज्ञानी त्वात्मैव मे मतम् ।
udāraḥ sarva evaite jñānī tu ātmaiva me matam
“All of these (four types) are noble, but the wise person I regard as my own self.”
All the four seekers—relief seeker, enjoyment seeker, knowledge seeker and spiritual seeker—are good and noble, but the spiritual seeker is a standout. What distinguishes the spiritual seeker from the other three are two things. First, the spiritual seeker wants nothing from the world. Second, the spiritual seeker longs for God not as a means of fulfillment but as the goal itself. That is why, as the Gītā, 7.17 says:
प्रियो हि ज्ञानिनोऽत्यर्थमहं स च मम प्रिय: ।
priyo hi jñānino’tyarthaṁ ahaṁ sa ca mama priyaḥ.
“I am dear to the spiritual seeker and the spiritual seeker is dear to me.”
This mutual attraction between the spiritual seeker and God provides the force that breaks the barrier of time, space and causation. On the other side of the barrier, there are no divisions, no hierarchies, no “you and me,” not even “we.” There is only oneness—unbroken and unbreakable, intense and ineffable. Since this is the consummation the spiritual seeker is heading towards, Sri Krishna declares the spiritual seeker to be ātmaiva, meaning, inseparable from the ātman, the true spiritual self.
As for the other three seekers, they’ll continue to play with their worldly toys and to indulge in childish fancies until they are fed up or until better sense dawns on them. The relief seeker will find relief of sorts but will also lose it, seek it again, and lose it once again. On and on this process will repeat until the relief seeker says, “Enough is enough. Now I want to find the kind of relief that cannot be lost.” The quest for everlasting relief from suffering may eventually turn the relief seeker into a spiritual seeker.
The enjoyment seeker may find some sensual enjoyment through the grace of God. But a never-ending ever-increasing enjoyment of the senses? That’s too much to ask. Like it or not, the limitations of the senses limit the extent of enjoyment. Worldly enjoyment is temporary and can never bring fulfillment. Even God cannot guarantee unbroken, intense joy in the world. So the enjoyment seeker has to make the best of what is inherently a faulty deal.
Maybe in the course of time, satiety may set it and “enjoyment” may no longer be enjoyable. The seeker may realize that worldly joy is only sorrow in another form. Then may come a U-turn in quest of joy that is really joy—abiding, unclouded and limitless—the kind of joy that only spirituality can provide. Thus the enjoyment seeker may eventually become a spiritual seeker and learn to seek enjoyment in the right place and in the right way.
Acquisition of knowledge is a rewarding pursuit. Not only does it widen our intellectual horizon, it also brings a refined joy to the mind. This joy is qualitatively much superior to the joy derived on the physical and emotional planes. Superior it is, but even this joy falls short of providing lasting fulfillment. It often opens the door to a kind of despair when the limitations of the intellect are realized and the ultimate futility of brain-culture dawns on the mind.
At this point, the knowledge-seeker may realize that no worldly knowledge—meaning, knowledge of anything in the world (aparā vidyā)—can fully satisfy intellectual hunger. And maybe, sooner or later, the knowledge seeker may turn to seek the other knowledge—knowledge of the supreme (parā vidyā)—changing in the process, from a knowledge seeker into a spiritual seeker
We have seen that of the four types of people who turn to God for help, the spiritual seeker is someone special, a class apart from the other three. This truth becomes obvious when we find that while a person can simultaneously belong to the first three types (or two, in any of the possible combinations), the person cannot be a spiritual seeker at the same time. In order to be a spiritual seeker, the person must outgrow the need and the folly of seeking petty things such as physical and mental relief, sensual enjoyment, and intellectual satisfaction. The spiritual seeker seeks the spirit alone.
The superiority of the spiritual seeker need not make us dismiss the other three seekers as worthless. Krishna calls all the four types udāra, noble or good. Why noble? For two reasons. First, as we have seen, the relief seeker, the enjoyment seeker, and the knowledge seeker, all may eventually evolve into spiritual seekers. A little bit of awakening has already taken place in them, because they have realized that they need God. Some more awakening will show them that they need God not to solve their problems in the world, but to solve the problem called the world. The world itself is the root problem. It’s only through God’s grace that we can burst this maddening, seemingly enduring bubble called the world.
The second reason why all these four types are noble is that they have turned to the right source for help. After all, it is possible to turn to a wrong source and to self-destruct by devising one’s own silly (and eventually futile) ways to confront the problem of suffering. That is what most of us are already doing today. To get relief from physical and mental suffering, we find it easier to get addicted to drugs and alcohol than to get “addicted” to God. To get sensual enjoyment, there are today any number of ways to titillate the senses. Love of enjoyment drives people to declare war against everything that stands in their way. They destroy, kill, and use every means possible to grab power, amass wealth, climb the social ladder, and have (what they think is) a good time.
Knowledge seekers are becoming an endangered species. Who wants knowledge these days? People want academic degrees and these can be had without really seeking knowledge. We want to appear knowledgeable without the hard work and sacrifice necessary to get knowledge. We are hungry for the benefits of being recognized as wise, but we are not really hungry for knowledge. Even among those who are knowledge seekers, many feel it is old-fashioned to bring God into the picture. Why God? Hard work is enough, they say. Hard work is indeed necessary, but whether that is enough is debatable.
The plain truth is that if God is left out of the picture, the results are disastrous. Why is the world today the way it is? Why are violence, corruption, selfishness, immorality ruling the roost in every society? The answer need not be complicated. The simple answer is that the majority of the people don’t really feel the need for God. They may talk of God, they may even indicate in polls that they believe in God, but the pattern of their lives and their responses to specific situations make it abundantly clear that God is not a real presence in their lives. In moments of acute distress—and only during such moments—God may be remembered, but when the going is good, people manage to survive without bothering about God.
What makes the four types of seekers different is that they have become awakened to the reality of God. Never mind that the first three types want God for reasons not really spiritual. They are certainly better than people who use worldly means for worldly pursuits. That is what makes all these four types udarā, noble and good.
The Second Step
Disappointment makes some people turn to God. We have already seen this. Experiencing disappointment is the first step. Turning to God is the second. The second step, however, is not merely to turn to God, but to stay turned. Many of us turn to God for help, it is true, but we lack both patience and faith. We do not stick on, and soon fall for worldly methods and worldly remedies. We want things to happen on our own terms. We often make the mistake of wanting God to follow our calendar and to do things our way. This is ridiculous.
God follows God’s calendar, not our arbitrary human calendar. God’s way of doing things is different from our stupid human ways. Let’s admit it, God’s calendar is more accurate and God’s way is more appropriate. We must learn to be patient. It is faith in God that gives us the patience to wait and the ability to cheerfully accept whatever God decides.
This is how the initial disappointment gets transformed into contentment. Once our cares, worries, anxieties, problems are put into God’s hands, they become God’s cares, worries, anxieties, problems—and that is such a liberating experience! God knows best how to handle these things. But the trouble is that we can’t let go. Swamiji’s words from “The Song of the Sannyāsin” (CW 4. 396) come to mind:
“Thine only is the hand that holds
The rope that drags thee on. Then cease lament,
Let go thy hold, Sannyasin bold!
Say, ॐ Tat Sat ॐ!”
Letting go of the rope and keeping the lamp of faith burning, we shall find our disappointment melting into contentment, our frown changing into a beautiful smile.
It is significant that the Gītā begins with the profound disappointment of Arjuna at the cruel, unfortunate developments in his life. It’s a catch-22 situation for him: he has either to suffer from the guilt of killing his dearest ones in order to win or to suffer the humiliation of defeat in the battle. Arjuna was lucky to have Sri Krishna physically by his side. He turned to Krishna for help. He sought neither relief nor enjoyment. Nor was he merely curious. He belonged to the fourth type. Arjuna approached Sri Krishna as a spiritual seeker. He surrendered himself to Sri Krishna and prayed for his guidance. The rest, as they say, is history. That is how we have the Gītā today.
But unlike Arjuna, we do not have God by our side. We have God inside, which is even better. Our turning to God really means turning inward and staying focused there. It’s not easy. But we don’t have any choice if we are really serious about converting our disappointment into contentment.
Our disappointment must induce us to make an appointment with God. We must struggle—and when we struggle we shall surely learn how—to make the mind turn round and focus on God. That is the second step we take in our spiritual journey.