in the sound of beautiful music, or in the colors of a sunrise. There are moments where there is no "you" being practiced, there is simply beingness. And in this simple beingness there is peace, insight, clarity, and naturalness, an effortless grace and ease of being. But we believe very strongly in our me meditation, and so these are usually just brief moments before the normal practice is picked up again: "I am this body; this is who I am. You are that body; this is who you are. This is my culture; that is your culture. These are my beliefs; those are your beliefs. You are my enemy; you are my friend. You want something from me; I want something from you," etc.

I would never discourage anyone from taking breaks from this usual practice of suffering, whether these breaks are found in what is called spiritual practice,

The truth of who you are is simpler than anything that can be practiced.

or in dancing, listening to music, being in nature, or lying in a hammock. The truth of who you are, however, is simpler than anything that can be practiced. Personal suffering, on the other hand, is very complex, and for it to continue it must be practiced. If you are suffering, just as an investigation, see if you are practicing your suffering.

Since we are so conditioned and attuned to define who we are by particular activities, we spend our lives overlooking the vast ground of stillness that is the simplicity of being. When I speak of the "heart," I am speaking of this same being. When I speak of the core of every phenomenon, being is what I am referring to. When I speak of what is met in self-inquiry, I am also speaking of being, whether it is emotional self-inquiry, such as meeting fear, anger, despair, or mental self-inquiry, such as inquiring into the actual I-thought. To inquire fully into anything is to discover this vast, simple, presence of being-yourself, as you are.

Being is not a practice. A practice involves some technique, a right way and a wrong way, a belief in getting someplace, and a reward or attainment. In the truth of the absolute stillness, none of that applies.

By the time I met my teacher, H.W.L. Poonja, I had attempted many forms of mediation. I had experienced moments of beauty, of transcendence, of true knowing, and yet the underlying longing that accompanied the thoughts, the underlying, "How do I get it? How do I keep it? I've got to find a way," were still operating. When I met Papaji, he told me to stop. He extended to me an invitation that I am happy to extend to you. This moment, stop right where you are. Stop all effort to get whatever you think will give you fulfillment, whatever you think will give you truth. All that is required is one instant of truly stopping.

This one instant is elusive for most people, because as they approach the instant of stopping, an enormous welling of fear usually arises: "If I stop, if I really stop, I will slide back and lose the ground that I have gained through my efforts and practices. Even though I am still not fully satisfied, I am more satisfied than I was. I have a better life, my mind is calmer, my circumstances are better, and I might lose all of that."

For me, it was quite extraordinary to hear this "stop." I was certain that he was going to give me some secret knowledge — and he did. But it is only secret because it is so obvious. It is not esoteric. I was certain that he would whisper some magical formula in my ear-and he did. He said, "Stop." It was so simple that I was thrown to the floor. My thoughts stopped, and in that stopping was more fulfillment than could ever be imagined. What we imagine as fulfillment has to do with less pain, less conflict, more pleasure, more peace, more acknowledgement, more love. But true fulfillment cannot be imagined, it can only be realized.

He told me to throw away every strategy, every technique, every tool, and to just be here and receive what he was offering. It soon sank in: "He really means what he says. He is not teaching me a new mantra, or a new practice, or a new set of beliefs, a liturgy, a catechism, or a cosmology. He is not telling me 'what it all means' and 'what will happen' and 'why it came about.'" He was asking me to release all of that from my mind. Not that any of it was wrong. It was just that the hodgepodge of spiritual concepts I had created could never rival unconditional reality.