Where Has Delusion Gone?

Janaka sat with a puzzled expression, though his eyes remained clear.

"Master, something strange has occurred. I was bound by delusion—this I know. Now I am free—this I also know. But where has the delusion gone? I search for it and cannot find it."

Ashtavakra's eyes twinkled. "You have asked the question that undoes all questions. Where indeed?"

"It feels as if I woke from a dream. The dream seemed real while I was in it. Now that I am awake, I cannot find the dream anywhere. Did it truly exist?"

"Did the snake exist when you saw it in the rope?" Ashtavakra replied. "It seemed real. It caused fear. You may have run from it. But when light came, you saw only rope. Where did the snake go?"

"Nowhere," Janaka said slowly. "It was never there. Only the rope was there, appearing as snake in dim light."

"Just so with delusion. There was only ever the Self—clear, pure, unchanging. In the dim light of ignorance, it appeared as bondage, as suffering, as a separate self. Now, in the light of recognition, you see what was always there. The delusion did not go anywhere because it was never anywhere."

"But the suffering was real. The struggle was real."

"The experience was real; the interpretation was not. Suffering happened in awareness. Struggle appeared in awareness. But the conclusion that 'I am bound'—this was never true. It was like dreaming you are imprisoned. The prison walls seem solid, the chains seem heavy, but upon waking, you find your hands were always free."

Janaka shook his head in wonder. "Then all my spiritual seeking—the austerities, the studies, the prayers—were they chasing a phantom?"

"They were the dream of waking up. In the dream, you dreamed you were seeking. In the dream, you dreamed you found. Now, awake, you see there was no seeker and nothing to find. Yet the dream served its purpose—it ended."

"How can a dream end a dream?"

"How can a dream of waking lead to actual waking?" Ashtavakra smiled. "It cannot. And yet, here you are, awake. The mechanism is mysterious, but the result is clear. Do not worry about how it happened. Simply remain as you are."

"And if the delusion returns?"

"Then it will be a cloud passing through the sky. You may notice it, but you will not mistake yourself for it. Once you have seen the rope, you can never fully believe in the snake again. There may be a moment of startled reaction, but recognition follows swiftly."

"I feel lighter," Janaka said. "As if a great weight has been lifted. And yet, I cannot name what was removed. It is like waking from a nightmare—the terror is gone, but I cannot quite remember what frightened me."

"Because there was nothing to remember. The nightmare was empty of real content. Fear produced itself from itself. Now that you have stopped feeding the fear, it has dissolved like mist in sunlight."

"Where is the sun in this metaphor?" Janaka asked.

"You are the sun. Your own awareness is the light that dispels all darkness. You did nothing to make the sun rise—you simply stopped closing your eyes. Delusion requires effort; truth requires only not-resisting."

Janaka laughed with joy. "I was fighting shadows. I was building boats to cross a stream that did not exist. All along, I was standing on solid ground."

"All along," Ashtavakra agreed. "And you still are. The ground never shifted. Only your looking shifted. Now you see what was always true, and you wonder how you could have missed it."

"It is humbling," Janaka said. "And yet, there is no one to be humbled."

"That is the final freedom—freedom from the one who would be free or bound. In that freedom, where is there room for delusion? Where is there a self to be deluded? Only light, only space, only this."