Why is Surrender so difficult?

Surrender in the Spiritual Field

Krishna has talked about surrender, but on the actual field of action, in the Kurukshetra war, he asks Arjuna not to surrender his weapons, but to take them up and fight, because he is engaged in a righteous battle to protect dharma. But Krishna says, "Surrender unto Me."

Therefore, when we talk about surrender, we are not talking about surrendering to any temporal forces. In fact, if you surrender to temporal forces, you will not be able to turn to spirituality at all.

There is a battle going on within us, aimed at defeating the temporal forces that take us away from the Spirit. When we speak of surrender, we do not mean surrendering to the forces that tempt us or act as obstacles on the spiritual path.

Surrender comes from the understanding that however much we intellectualize, and whatever we may do with our limited intelligence, the brain, we cannot touch the Divinity unless the mind finally says, "Now I can do nothing more; let me surrender."

It has nothing to do with our temporal affairs. Rather, it concerns the mind that, after trying to find God in every possible direction, finally arrives at the realization: "This is no longer in my hands. Let me pray for grace."

It will come only with great humility. Otherwise, there are people who perform tapasya for a hundred years in the hope of finding God, yet they do not. They may attain certain siddhis or powers, as described in the Puranas, but it is only when they finally surrender that God reveals Himself.

That is the meaning of surrender, and for that, grace is essential. Without grace, one cannot even surrender; it is impossible to do so. In fact, a person who has, over many years, made a sincere and one-pointed effort to find God or Truth is ultimately rewarded by the Lord's grace. It is that grace which enables him even to turn towards the spiritual goal.

There are millions of people on this earth doing many different things and working for a living, but how many truly wish to embark upon a serious search for the Divine? Very few. It is not that the others are not intelligent; many of them are highly intelligent. However, they have not yet evolved to the point where they can turn towards this quest. That, too, requires grace.

To surrender to the spiritual, one must first be a true warrior in the temporal world and be willing to fight the battle, for it is indeed a constant battle. When you surrender, you receive the help needed to fight it.

Krishna has a very unusual name that is commonly used in Gujarat and Rajasthan: Ranchhod,"the one who leaves the battlefield." At first glance, it seems like a contradiction. Here is someone who tells Arjuna, "Take up your bow and fight," and yet he is called Ranchhod because he ran away when Jarasandha came.

It is a deeply symbolic idea. People sometimes do foolish things while imagining themselves to be very brave. But foolishness is not bravery. Krishna acts with complete awareness. He knows what is ultimately going to happen and therefore adopts the strategy necessary to bring about that outcome.

The Gita begins with, 'Dharmakshetre Kurukshetre samaveta yuyutsavah'.

Dharmakshetra is the field where the fight between righteousness and unrighteousness takes place; between material pleasures and enjoyments and the inner enjoyment of the spiritual. Kshetra, here, also means the human body, with its field operating around it.

This constant battle can be resolved only when one is able to leave identification with the body and realize, "I am not this body, but I am something else." In yogic terminology, this may also mean the ability to leave the body at will, though one cannot truly believe it unless one experiences it.

That is the meaning of Ranchhod- to abandon this field of activity and turn inward. It is not admitting defeat. It is understanding that all this circus is finally not going to solve the problem, so let me keep quiet, and in that quietness, maybe the Divine reveals itself.

After all, the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali say, "Yogas chitta vritti nirodah." When all the vrittis, or disturbances of the mind, are removed and the mind becomes placid and quiet, that becomes the take-off point for the soul's spiritual journey.

Learning to Surrender

It was a big battle for me to surrender to my Master because, by nature, I was quite rebellious, doubtful, and skeptical. Even running away from home was a big rebellion. I just ran off.

At one time, I was very mischievous, and my father used to physically discipline me. One day, I looked at him after the disciplinary act and said, "Is that enough, or do you want to do more?" He stopped from that day.

So I was like that.

Of course, I had met Babaji already when I was a small boy. It was only for five minutes. But then I met him again in the Himalayas many years later, when I was nineteen and a half. I was with him continuously for three and a half years.

He was a barefoot man with no banner, no organization, and no place to rest his head. He would stay in a cave or a village and only had a kamandalu as possession. He didn't even have footwear. He had just one piece of cloth and never got into a vehicle.

He used to say, "Because I don't have a fixed agenda, I am not in a hurry to go anywhere."

I travelled with him, and it took me more than a year to fully understand that whatever I could think, the highest I could think, was still limited when compared to what he could think.

Recognizing the superiority of his thought process, which seemed to have been completely transformed by spiritual experience, I decided that, at least in spiritual matters, I should suspend my battle, give up and see what happens.

What happened was extraordinary. It was not so much verbal teaching as sitting with him and feeling. Within a year, before he said something, I would often respond in the same way.

After some time, I found that if he wanted water, the thought would arise in his mind and I would go and get water. He tried me out like that for another six months and then he said, "Ab tum taiyyar ho gaye."

That is how I did it, after a great deal of argument, tests, and questioning. Sometimes now, in retrospect, I regret it and think, "How stupid I was that I should have said things like that?" Not disrespectfully, but out of a desire to know and a tendency to be overly critical.

But I did manage. And that is why it is so important to live with a person. This is the old tradition: you live with a teacher for some time before you figure out what is happening.

Then you begin to realize the inner dimensions, which are so advanced, and you begin to see how limited you are. As your mind moves from the limited towards the unlimited, it becomes more and more expansive and is able to embrace everything and everybody without finding faults.

I thought I was almost worthless, but Babaji polished me up, washed me, dipped me in water many times, hit the cloth on the rock, cleaned it, dried it, ironed it, and finally said, "Now, here you are."

But for that, one has to surrender oneself to that person. And it took me a long time.

-Sri M