# The Inner Path: 7

Voice 1 (tossing questions out in curiosity): Samkhya philosophy says—"One Nature, One Purusha"; Yoga says—"Meditate, become established in yoga"; Bhakti says—"Chant the name of God"—which of these paths is true?
Voice 2 (from the depths of experience): All paths are one. All philosophies circle around the same truth. The one who says "I"—is both the journey and the destination.
(Voice 1): Karma says—"Act without attachment," Knowledge declares—"Know, the Self alone is real"…are these doctrines contradictory?
Voice 2 (in grave, measured tones): No, they are all echoes of that one consciousness, calling the soul in different forms. One says—"You are not the body," another says—"You are a fragment of God," but in the end all say—"You are Brahman."
Voice 1 (pausing, in deep contemplation): Then do all disciplines of practice eventually dissolve?
(Voice 2): Not because they vanish—but because they transform themselves into voiceless silence. Where there is no commentary, no doctrine, no dispute—only one luminous point of consciousness.

Both together (in unison, as if the soul becomes one—rhythmic, steady and radiant in wisdom): All philosophy points one way—toward the nameless, the attributeless, where Brahman is every path, every destination. All paths converge at last. Some call it knowledge, some call it love, some call it action, some call it meditation. Yet all are paths, all are the search for the eternal. Doctrines change, paths diverge—the name at the end does not change. Brahman is the final word, silence is the true utterance—all paths, all philosophies—they merge into one consciousness.

Voice 1 (with yearning, asks): You say Brahman is all…but is Brahman solitary, a barren void? Or does love dwell within him, vibration, bliss?
Voice 2 (in a voice of eternal light): Brahman itself is bliss. He is no mere perception; he is the source of all feeling—desiring nothing, wanting no one—yet whole.
Voice 1 (startled): Then is bliss no object? No experience?
(Voice 2): Bliss is not a reaction—bliss is being itself. What you seek—that is you. In the depths of your own consciousness it awakens.
(Voice 1): But I am tossed about in pleasure and pain! Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I weep!
(Voice 2): That very sorrow is Brahman—you suffer because you imagine yourself separate from him. Bliss dwells in all things; you have simply forgotten—who you are.

Both together (in timeless voice, in the deep communion of consciousness—slow, mellifluous in cadence, as if in an inner, silent laughter): I am Brahman, I am consciousness, I am bliss. In me there is no desire, no gaining, no fear of loss. Bliss is my name—because I know myself. I am bliss—because I am beyond wanting, I am whole—because I am in all things. Bliss is the language of being, where there is no division, no longing. I am that eternal bliss-form—in whose depths all feeling dissolves.