What is a good fight?
Jostling among the masses,
For name, fame, and space?
Glory that comes and goes,
Sooner than night and day?
Pursuit of the ephemeral thrills,
Roused by heedless senses?
Laboring on the hamster wheel,
Of societal conditioning?
Beseeching distant others,
For a trickle of worthiness?
Ever craving, ever struggling,
Meandering the badlands,
No home to abide in.
We tell ourselves stories,
Of who we are, and
What has become of us.
The many garbs we wear -
Preening behind the guise of arrogance
The ugliness of incessant self-loathing
Languishing in the pool of self-pity
Dragging feet in bewilderment
The weight of shameful incompetence
Moan-fully grieving the loss of an apparition
Or, basking in pride at vanquishing a shadow.
Many moods, many misperceptions.
What is the good fight?
The journey that begins, by
The grace of the compassionate Guru,
A glimpse of the resplendent truth,
The attribute-less Brahman.
The fight that peels away the layers,
Of aeons of persistent misidentification.
A journey of dispassionate purification,
Steadily discriminating between
The Truth and the untruth.
Ever abiding in virtues,
Resting in a tranquil mind,
Restraining from the play of senses,
Renouncing the pull of worldly pursuits,
Remaining unmoved by the opposites,
Reliant on the Guru’s teachings,
Reposed in unwavering focus.
Fervently longing for Oneness,
Infinite eternal Love.
uddharedātmanātmānam nātmānamavasādayet ātmaiva hyātmano bandhurātmaiva ripurātmanah (6.5)
Let a man lift himself by his own Self alone, and let him not lower himself; for, this Self alone is the friend of oneself and this Self is the enemy of oneself.
