Every creature has its qualities, but a human being has no fixed qualities, explained Adiyogi. This is why people constantly surprise us. They are capable of being utterly base and startlingly sublime - crass and bestial one moment and radiantly devine the next. Since there is no established quality, there is no human being; there is only human becoming. Human beings can become whatever they want. Nature has given them this freedom. This means that from the moment of creation, human beings cannot evolved unconsciously. If they want to evolve, they have to evolve consciously.
'What then stands between us and our ultimate nature, our freedom?' asked the sages.
Adiyogi drew their attention to that aspect of the human mind called manas. This comprises memory - vast silos of memory, he asserted. In other words, what keeps us from our freedom, he implied, is our programming. This conditioning goes deep. It operates on unfathomably complex levels that are seldom apparent to us. It is these layers of memory that separate us from our authentic nature.
Our lives are ruled by eight forms of memory, Adiyogi explained. These are elemental, atomic, evolutionary, genetic, karmic, sensory, inarticulate and articulate.
The five elements that make up the human body stamp their own imprints upon us. Similarly, the dance of the atoms is distinctive in each individual because of past memory. Our evolutionary journey shapes our biology, while genetic codes or software within us determines our individuality. Karmic memory - a vast storehouse of impressions honed by our past actions - plays a further role in moulding qualities and propensities. The daily maelstrom of sensory stimuli also leaves a residual impact, determining the ways in which our bodies and minds react to our world: this is sensory memory. Additionally, there is the sediment of the unconscious - or what Adiyogi called inarticulate memory. Finally, there is the impact of all the conscious information we carry - which he termed articulate memory.
All these levels of memory, said Adiyogi, individuate us. They are responsible for who we are today. They make us unique. They gift us with distinctive capabilities and desires, habits and idiosyncrasies. They are responsible for the diversity of human life. But the same memories imprison us. They shackle us to self-definitions we cannot rid ourselves of. We may celebrate our limitations and turn them into badges of identity. But whether gold-plated or iron-batted, a cage is still a cage.
What human beings term 'knowledge', said Adiyogi, is mere accumulation, pure memory. The volume of memory, however vast, is always limited. Human knowledge is always within bounds. Ignorance, however, is boundless. If our knowledge is wide, it could just mean, therefore, that our prejudice is wide!
If we have an active intelligence, however, we bcome non-stop, effervescent seekers, never certain but always joyfully confused. And seeking, Adiyogi declared, is not a spiritual idea. If we are not identified with the limitations of our knowledge, seeking is entirely natural. The way he illuminated, therefore, was a movement from indoctrination to intelligence, information to borderless ignorance, accumulation to aliveness.
As the sages absorbed this information, they were filled with new questions. 'But why?' they asked at length, echoing the query that so many have asked since the beginning of time. 'Why did it happen?'Why did memory turn oppressive? Why did individuality turn into imprisonment?'
Memory is neither right nor wrong, replied Adiyogi. It is neither good nor bad. It is simply the nature of physical existence. At first, consciousness was a great stream of purposelessness. Then this great stream began to seek purpose. And so, it curved.
That curve of consciousness was the birth of matter. It was the birth of cycles, which are basis of physical existence. It was the birth of form, of individuality, of diversity, of purpose. But that very purpose turned, over time, into bondage.
When consciousness realizes it is bound, it yearns to be free again. It seeks to unloose itself from the cycles of the physical. It seeks to break out from the convolutions of the psychological. It seeks to return to a state it dimly remembers - a state no longer inscribed by memory, a state free of intent. It seeks to return to what it once was - a boundless, purposeless unity.
'But why?' the sages persisted. 'Why must this game from purposelessness to purpose to purposelessness be played out? What is the point of it all?'
Adiyogi laughed. Purpose is the need of the mind, he asserted. Existence is not utilitarian. Existence is a phenomenon beyond utility. The mind thinks of utility only because it is a scavenger in perennial hunter-gatherer mode. Human individuality has been gathered. But with enlightenment, there is nothing to gather or to give, nothing to take or to return, nothing to accumulate or to surrender. Life simply is, that is all. 'And if you were simply dripping ecstasy, as I am, 'you would not even ask this question.'
It is because of identification with the limited cyclical process of physicality that human beings find life burdensome. That is why they ask about the purpose of carrying this burden. That is why they ask about the profit for this labour of life. That is why they ask about the reward. A mind that has been castrated and domesticated, he implied, cannot see the point of a rampaging bull elephant, for it has lost the innate understanding of the wild where life is beautiful and purposeless all at once.
Life has no use at all, declared Adiyogi. It is simply a phenomenon. Little acts have purpose. But life is not framed within the narrow grid of utility. It is beyond frames. It is beyond grids. It is beyond utility. If you have a taste of this existence beyond purpose, of life beyond sense, you are enlightened.
'It is possible for us to speculate and create endless stories about why creation happened,' said the great teacher. 'If I tell you a story, you can either believe it or disbelieve it. Either way, it will get you no closer to the truth. I am not here to tell you a story. I am not here to tell you why. I know the way out of the game, and that is all that counts. Never mind why. Let me show you how.'
And that is 'how' gradually unfolded into the great science of yoga. So remarkably multidimensional was Adiyogi's exposition that it took even seven brilliant, intensely focused men a very long time to comprehend it.