Last Word on Lust

 

On Lust

Ashtāvakra Gītā 3.4-3.6

"After hearing oneself to be Pure Consciousness and surpassingly beautiful, how can one yet be deeply attached to sensual objects and thus become impure?

It is strange that one abiding in the supreme non-duality and intent on liberation should yet be subject to lust and weakened by the practice of amorous pastimes!"

These words pierce strongly the earnest seeker who still battles and struggles with biological urges. 

However hidden within is also a solution , the deeper understanding of lust itself and not running away from it ---

1) Recognizing that engaging in biological and psychological pleasures ultimately only weakens the body-mind, is itself a good start

2) recognizing that the Original Sin -- not sex or lust, but duality which took our "selves" away from "God", is the impurity. Hence, when one engages in those pastimes which reinforce duality (" the feeling of separation between myself and the other, the subject and the object") they become impure, not as a judgement of morality or socio-religious sanctioning but merely a compassionate admission of the fact of the matter. 

3) the psycho-biological urge is but a pulse of the soul, of creation, to reunite, to integrate, to include and diffuse away into the void. This expresses as fundamental Beauty. This is Satyam Shivam Sundaram.  When we recollect this, that indeed the urge is merely a signal to experience Beatitude, we get re- focused on our goal. And to engage more in conscious processes where we get to experience such Beatitude -- the dissolving of the little self, through flow-work, through love, through inquiry, through meditation, the urges may perhaps gradually fade away because the body impulse has been fulfilled. 

Let us honor our bodily impulse and try to redirect repeatedly, no matter how many times we fail.  🔥

Image credits :-  ChatGPT

Society as Samsaara

 Society as Samsaara 

The Hidden Disgust After Desire — On Expansion, Longing, and the Body’s Secret Wisdom 

How subtly society avoids and suppresses the natural yearning for expansion! Every human being is born with a deep, inbuilt mechanism to seek, question, and grow. Yet we are trained, almost from birth, to distrust that drive — to keep our desires tamed and our questions quiet. 

The Mystery of Post-Orgasmic Clarity 

One of the most baffling human experiences is what might crudely be called post-orgasmic clarity. 
Moments before climax, there is longing, frenzy, and unbearable craving — a desperate rush to dissolve in something larger. But the very next instant, the fire collapses. Desire dies a sudden death. The lover turns away. 

Why does the body do this? 

It’s not just the release of fluids or hormones — the rasa — but a total shift in consciousness. 
A moment ago, the world was burning with hunger; now it’s washed in indifference. 

And strangely, this pattern repeats in all creatures — dogs, cats, birds, even spiders. After desperate courtship, they suddenly move away, wordless and dispassionate. The same energy that begged for union now refuses even touch. The more intense the craving, the longer the build-up, the greater the dispassion afterward. 

The deeper the indulgence, the stronger the recoil. 
It’s a universal law of psyche and energy. 

As Sri Sri Ravi Shankar says: 

“The heart is the center of energy which, when given a conducive set of circumstances, becomes love — and in others, the same energy becomes hate.” The aftermath of passion, in its many forms — disgust, regret, guilt, or aversion — is directly proportionate to the depth of our involvement. 

Beyond Lust — The Pattern of Saturation 

This cycle isn’t confined to sexuality. It’s visible in every human indulgence: 

• The nausea after overeating. 

• The hangover after intoxication. 

• The burnout after ambition. 

• The emptiness after achievement. 

• The post-exam amnesia, the post-entertainment fatigue, the post-anesthetic nausea. 

Even emotionally: 

• The heartbreak after a breakup. 

• The bitterness after divorce. 

• The silence between once-inseparable friends. 

• Soldiers who fought shoulder to shoulder turning strangers after war. 

• Ministers who once served loyally turning traitors in time. 

Everywhere, we see the same rhythm — intense attraction, total involvement, and sudden aversion. 

Why Does It Happen? 

Because beneath every pleasure is the urge to transcend. After the senses are satisfied, something within us — the same intelligence that built the craving — demands meaning. 
The disgust, depression, or dispassion that follows indulgence is not a punishment — it is the psyche’s way of clearing space for something higher.

 It is as though nature itself whispers: 

“Enough of this rung. Move upward.” 

If that disgust didn’t exist, we’d be trapped in an endless loop of repetition — a romantic forever in longing, a glutton forever eating, an addict forever numbing. This inner fuse — that moment of revulsion — saves us. 

But modern society, instead of listening to that inner call, suppresses it.

 We label it “normal,” trivialize it, distract ourselves with sleep, screens, or substances — anything to avoid confronting that sacred discomfort. And when we ignore it, we remain stuck on the same rung, repeating the same story, only with different faces and names. 

The Cycle of Substitution 

After a breakup, we say we’ve learned — yet we fall for the same archetype. After a hangover, we swear off drinking — only to pour another glass. 
After burnout, we take a vacation — and return to the same cycle. The pattern persists because we never feel the clarity fully. 

If only we could sit still with that post-climax silence, that post-drama void — if we could endure its raw honesty — true wisdom would dawn. 
But we rush to cover it with entertainment, noise, or sleep. We drown the voice of evolution with the anesthetic of habit. 

The Rung and the Step 

This movement from longing to repulsion isn’t moral — it’s mechanical, biological, spiritual. 
The body, mind, and soul are aligned toward evolution. 
The disgust is not against pleasure — it’s a longing for something more. As the foot climbs a staircase, it doesn’t hate the rung it leaves behind. 
The rung served its purpose — it lifted you higher. 
The foot simply says, “No hard feelings, my friend — I must go on.” 

The Forgotten Intelligence 

Nature is not against us — civilization, perhaps, is. 
Civilization calls this natural rhythm “shame,” “sin,” or “failure.” But the body and mind — our most loyal companions — speak a language far older than culture. They know how to rise, how to rest, how to renew. If only we could listen. 

“I should sell my tongue in exchange for a hundred ears,” writes Rumi, “when that One begins to speak. Listen. Listen deeply to the heart within.” 

Every disgust hides a higher calling. 
Every regret conceals an upward pull. 
Every moment of post-passion silence is not emptiness — it is invitation. 

The secret of life is not to cling to pleasure, nor to condemn it, but to recognize when one form of expansion has fulfilled its purpose —  and to rise toward the next.