What do we mean when we say that something is real? Can one thing be “more real” than another thing? Can some things be real only for a time—and can we distinguish them from things that are real all the time? It is helpful to pause and question our notions of reality.

In the earlier post, we saw what part of me survives death and what doesn’t. That raises an obvious question—what happens afterwards? Where do I go? What do the books say—and does it make sense?

What really dies when I die? Does anything of me survive death? Where does this surviving part of me go? What does my future look like after I die? Many questions, but are there any definitive answers? Is there a way to think that may help me deal with the reality of death?

Mental impressions play an outsize role in our lives. They generate desires, they influence our decisions, and they determine our character. That’s a lot! It is helpful to know how these mental impressions (saṁskāra) are formed, what they do, and what we can do to use them to our advantage.

Is the world that we see a “material” entity made up of atoms and molecules—or is there something more to it? Is the world alive in some way or form? Is it conceivable that the world of the living and the nonliving could itself be a living entity—perhaps a Cosmic Person (virāṭ)?

There are many ways to understand the world-phenomenon (saṁsāra). One way is to see it as a Cosmic Play, or līlā. What does līlā mean—and what can it do to rejuvenate my spiritual life? In this Cosmic Play, who is playing? What is the play all about? When does it begin and when does it end?

What is the significance of Sri Ramakrishna’s cryptic statement: যত মত, তত পথ, “As many faiths, so many paths”? It is possible to visualize a room with windows looking out at the vast expanse outside. The windows are small but the view they reveal is vast. The windows are many, but the view is one and the same. What do we learn from all this?

Among all the uncertainties of life, there is only one thing absolutely certain—and that is, we will die one day. We plan for many things that may or may not happen. Do we have a plan for our eventual death? A death without any preparation can be a disaster. With preparation and planning, it becomes an art, which transforms the inevitable into an opportunity to be wise and free.

The only permanent solution to the problem of suffering is to get rid of the ego once and for all. Good luck doing that!—as it is easier said than done. Since it is so tough to get rid of the ego, Sri Ramakrishna’s practical advice was: “Let the rascal be God’s servant.”

What is the thinking behind calling the Vedanta Society’s Sunday programs “Satsang” and “Antar Yoga”? What do these terms mean—and how are they related to spiritual life, and to our personal spiritual practice?

The wisdom of following the path of moderation—the Middle Wa—feels indisputable, but so is the need for firm resolve and determination in one’s spiritual striving. Is there a way to harmonize these seemingly contradictory stances?

The process of merging plays a significant role in meditation. Why is merging necessary? What is the relationship between the Guru, the Iṣṭa (“Chosen Ideal”) and the Supreme Being?

How we view Rāma depends on how we view the Rāmāyaṇa. There are at least three ways the Rāmāyaṇa can be studied—as history, as literature, and as scripture. How we want to study Rāma’s story is up to us.

Getting along with those whom we like is easy. What strategies have we developed in our lives to get along with difficult people? What are the things we need to remember regarding the art of living in harmony with our surroundings?

We all have insufficient information about others (sadly, often even about ourselves) to be able to judge accurately what kind of people they are—even more importantly, what kind of people they will be in the months and years ahead.

People are often identified as Christians, Muslims, Hindus, etc. Is it possible to accurately describe my personal spiritual life by such labels? What does it mean when I am said to belong to a faith, tradition or religion? How is my religious identity defined?

Before the veil of māyā stopped covering Nārada’s eyes, he had a few more lessons to learn—and as we reach the end of the story, we have our own lessons to learn from this long-running saga. The quicker we learn, the easier it will be to get off the razor’s edge.

As we near the climax of the story in this sixth episode, we find Nārada at the Svayaṁvara of the princess with the hope that soon he will be married to her. Does he? What happens at the ceremony? Every phase of Nārada’s story is an opportunity to reflect and to learn.

When Nārada falls in love with the princess Viśvamohinī, he feels the need to get a divine form to impress her. When he prays to the Lord to grant it to him, why does Śrī Hari give him a monkey’s face? How would that help Nārada? What lessons are we learning here?

After the Lord heard what Nārada had to say, he saw how lost Nārada was, how his ego had managed to divert his mind away from the ideal. To help his devotee, Śrī Hari projected a magic kingdom. What happened when Nārada visited it? How was this meant to teach Nārada? And, as before, what do we learn from it?

In this third episode, we see Nārada going to Vaikuṇṭha and narrating the story of his conquest to Śrī Hari, in spite of being warned by Śiva not to do so. How was Nārada received? What did Hari think of him? What are the lessons we learn as we follow these events?