That Thou Art

The sages told the Pandavas of the sage Uddalaka Aruni and his son Shvetaketu - a tale of how a father humbled the pride of a learned son, and led him from the knowledge of words to the knowledge of the one Self that is the ground of all that is.

Uddalaka Aruni was a sage of great learning, and he had a son named Shvetaketu. When the boy was twelve years old, his father sent him away to a teacher to study the sacred lore, as was the custom; and Shvetaketu studied diligently for twelve years, until at the age of twenty-four he returned home having learned all the Vedas. But he came back conceited and proud of his learning, thinking himself very wise and well-read, holding his head high, considering himself a great scholar who knew all there was to know. His father saw at once the pride in him, and saw too that for all his book-learning the boy had missed the one thing most worth knowing.

Uddalaka said to his son, 'Shvetaketu, since you are now so full of your learning and so proud, did you ask your teacher for that teaching by which what cannot be heard becomes heard, what cannot be perceived becomes perceived, what cannot be known becomes known?'

Shvetaketu was puzzled, for he had never heard of such a teaching. 'What is that teaching, father?' he asked. And Uddalaka answered, 'It is this, my son: that by knowing one single thing, all things become known; just as by knowing one lump of clay, you know all that is made of clay, for the clay alone is real and the shapes are only names; and by knowing one nugget of gold, you know all things made of gold, for the gold alone is real and the forms are only names. There is one reality, my son, by knowing which everything is known. This your teacher did not teach you, and without it all your learning is only words.' And Shvetaketu, his pride checked, begged his father to teach him that highest knowledge.

To teach his son that the one reality, though unseen, pervades all things, Uddalaka used the example of salt dissolved in water. 'Put this lump of salt into a cup of water,' he told Shvetaketu, 'and come to me in the morning.' The boy did so. In the morning his father said, 'Bring me the salt you put in the water last night.' But Shvetaketu looked, and could not find it, for it had wholly dissolved.

'Taste the water from the top,' said Uddalaka. 'How is it?' 'It is salt,' said the boy. 'Taste from the middle. How is it?' 'It is salt.' 'Taste from the bottom. How is it?' 'It is salt.' 'You cannot see the salt,' said the father, 'and yet it is there in every drop, pervading the whole. Just so, my son, the one subtle reality, the Self, is present everywhere in all this world, though you cannot see it with your eyes. It is the unseen essence that pervades all that is. That subtle essence - that is the truth. That is the Self. And that, Shvetaketu, you are.'

Uddalaka taught his son further by the example of the seed and the tree. 'Bring me a fruit of that great banyan tree,' he said. Shvetaketu brought one. 'Break it open. What do you see?' 'Tiny seeds, father.' 'Break one of the seeds open. What do you see now?' Shvetaketu looked, and said, 'Nothing at all, father. It is empty.'

'My son,' said Uddalaka, 'that subtle essence which you cannot even see - out of that very essence this great banyan tree has grown. Believe me: in that invisible, intangible essence is the whole of the mighty tree, root and trunk and branch and leaf and fruit, though your eyes can find nothing there. That unseen subtlety is the reality from which all this great world has sprung; it is the truth, it is the Self of all that is. And that, Shvetaketu, you are.' So the father taught the son that the vast and visible world arises from an unseen and subtle reality, as the great tree from the invisible heart of the seed.

Uddalaka taught his son also by the example of the rivers and the sea, to show how all beings come from the one reality and return to it, though they do not know it. 'The rivers, my son,' he said, 'flow from many lands - one from the east, one from the west - and they run on until they reach the sea and become one with the sea. And once they have merged in the sea, they no longer say, I am this river, I am that river; they have become simply the sea.

'Just so, my son, all these creatures, when they have come forth from the one reality, do not know that they have come from it; and whatever they are here - tiger or lion or wolf or boar or worm or insect - into that one reality they all return, and from it they all arose. That one subtle essence is the Self of all this; it is the truth; it is the reality in which all things have their being and to which all things go home. And that, Shvetaketu, you are.' So he taught that all beings, however different they seem, share one hidden source and one hidden home.

To show his son that the Self is the very life that animates all living things, Uddalaka used the example of the living tree. 'If a man,' he said, 'were to strike at the root of this great tree, it would bleed its sap but live; if he were to strike at its middle, it would bleed but live; if he were to strike at its top, it would bleed but live. Pervaded by the living Self, the tree stands drinking in its nourishment and rejoicing in its life.

'But if the life leaves one branch, that branch withers; if it leaves a second, that withers; if it leaves a third, that withers; and if the life leaves the whole tree, the whole tree withers and dies. In just this way, my son, understand that when the living Self departs, the body dies - but the Self itself does not die. That which is the subtle life of all, the Self, is the reality; it does not perish when the body perishes; it is the deathless truth at the heart of every living thing. And that, Shvetaketu, you are.'

Nine times over, with example after example - the clay and the gold, the salt and the water, the seed and the tree, the rivers and the sea, the living sap - Uddalaka brought his son to the same great truth, and sealed each teaching with the same words: 'That subtle essence is the Self of all this. That is the truth. That is the Self. And that, Shvetaketu, you are.' Tat tvam asi - That thou art.

This was the heart of the whole teaching: that the one subtle reality which is the hidden essence and source of the entire universe is not something far off and other, but is the very Self of the seeker himself; that the truth at the root of all things and the truth at the root of one's own being are one and the same; that the knower and the known, the soul and the supreme reality, are not two but one. The proud young scholar who had returned thinking he knew everything learned at last the one thing his twelve years of study had not taught him: that the reality he sought outside himself was his own deepest Self, and that to know it was to know all. And Shvetaketu understood.

The sages drew the lessons of the tale for the Pandavas.

'See, first, the difference between learning and wisdom. Shvetaketu had studied all the Vedas for twelve years and came home proud, thinking himself wise; and yet he had missed the one knowledge most worth having - the knowledge of the Self, by which all else is known. Much book-learning, the tale teaches, is not the same as wisdom; one may know all the words and still not know the truth they point to. Beware, then, the pride of learning, which mistakes the knowledge of many things for the knowledge of the one thing that matters.

'And see the great teaching itself: that the one subtle reality which is the source and essence of the whole universe is your very own Self; that what you seek as the highest truth is not far off, but is the deepest ground of your own being; that the soul and the supreme are one. To know this - tat tvam asi, that thou art - is to know, in knowing one thing, all things; for it is to know the reality of which all things are only names and forms. This is the knowledge by which the unheard is heard and the unknown is known; seek this above all your learning.'

And the Pandavas, who had heard many teachings, took to heart the father's patient lesson that the truth they sought was their own innermost Self.