The embittered mind does not contemplate; nor can the will command it to contemplate, for contemplation is not an affair of the will. Only in the initial intention to contemplate is will involved. Even then no big involvement is needed but just a natural thought, a decision, "Let me sit and contemplate" - just a simple volition not different in nature from the thought "Let me take a walk." Later, when contem-plation begins, the initial thought goes and there is only contemplation 0 no actor, no action, only simple contemplation wherein I see, without any thinking process, my own nature, time-free, careful fullness that knows no lack. Contemplation requires no will for its maintenance but only a certain disposition. What brings about a contemplative disposition? It is found in a mind free from the anger and bitterness born of ideals.

Bitterness comes from idealisation about how things ought to be. When there is no idealisation there is no reason to be bitter; but, generally, one grows up with some ideals. One has ideals about how one's physical body should be, about one's family, one's friends, or about the world in general - ideals about God, also. From these ideals come blaming and bitterness.

When things about which one once was bitter have become irrelevant, the bitterness goes away. Inquiry into the Vedanta scripture takes care of a lot of situations, making them irrelevant; but ideals may remain even if there has been some Vedanta study. Even after one has heard, "I, atma, am sacidananda, ever existent, awareful fullness; I am what is absolutely real; all else is mithya, apparent," still ideals may be there. The language of idealisation changes. One now complains, not about I, atma, but about one's upadhis (the apparent from the reality that I am, but I do wish I had better conditioning!" In this way one continues to conclude, "I am not allright."

Idealisation is creating satyam (that which is real, non-negatable) out of mithya (that which is apparent, negatable). When I say that my conditionings have problems, that they should be different, then those conditionings are satyam for me. One gives reality to the apparent because the understanding of apparentness is not clear. Any conditioning is simply apparent and the more one sees the apparentness of it, the more one is free from it; but when what is apparent is taken as real, duality continues. Duality means problems: beginnings, endings, constant change, limitation. The problems of duality are solved by seeing the apparentness of duality, by seeing that nothing apparent is going to be exactly as I want it to be and that the reality of the "I want" is itself only apparent. I, limitless fullness am not wanting; wants belong to the apparent and the apparent has no absolute reality. Making an ideal out of a `want' amounts to drawings a conclusion about how the apparent, mithya, should be. This is silly. Mithya is created, and anything that is created is proper. What is, is proper. The categories of proper and improper are meaningful only with reference to what is to be done or not to be done, not with reference to things as one finds them to be.

Giving up ideals does not mean giving up the standards that govern one's choice of action. To give up ideals is not to live a loose life. What is to be done, is to be done in a proper way, and this - taking the action the situation calls for - should be very simple for a vedantin. Giving up ideals means accepting whatever is seen as it is without asking that any part of it be different, accepting relative facts as they are without ascribing to them like/dislike, good/bad value judgements. To quit idealising is to quit trying to control results. Over results one has no control; results belong to the laws of creation. It is over action, not over results, that one has some freedom of choice. One chooses what to do and how to do it in accordance with certain ethical standards necessarily born out of the collective self-interest of human society. However, such standards are not ideals. An ethical standard serves as a guide to action - what to do and how to do it: an ideal measures the result of action against one's model of what should be. Standards do not produce bitterness; bitterness comes from idealism.

Sometimes it is very difficult to give up ideals, particularly for those people brought up to have a value for idealising. There is a seeming security in ideals - something to hold onto, to strive to become. But striving to become something that you are not undermines the teaching of sastra. Vedanta tells you that you are everything that you want to be, that you are paripurnananda, complete fullness. If you make an ideal of becoming paripurnananda, the more you seek your ideal, the more you are away from it.
The person who says, "I know I am paripurnananda but I do not have a saintly mind?" is giving reality to the notion that he holds of an ideal mind. Such a notion is an obstruction to the discovery and enjoyment of one's saintly nature. One becomes a saint when one accepts the fact "I am not a non-saint". Saintless - love, sympathy, compassion - is very natural. It is not required but discovered in a non-schemeing, non-calculating mind free from an ideal, free from the need to become something different.

Similarly, contemplation is very natural, as natural as putting a fragrant flower near one's nose to enjoy the weet scent. Because the Self is beautiful, one appreciates oneself in contemplation; one goes towards oneself naturally. The maintenance of contemplation does not involve will. Only when the mind is caught up in the apparent does the maintenance of contemplation become a matter of will, a matter of effort, struggle, and tension. The apparent controls, when the mind has ideals. To discover within oneself a contemplative mind, ideals must go.

The kind of mind that is disposed to contemplation is simple and uncomplicated. It sees things as they are; limited in nature - ever changing effects in an apparent creation not authored by this mind - a mind which also is part of creation. When this is clear, the apparent will give no occasion for creating ideals. Without ideals there will be no bitterness. When there is no bitterness, the mind abides, the teaching becomes clear, contemplation is natural. There is no will involved. Wherever the mind goes, there contemplation is.