Dashak 18 · Samāsa 2

What happened through ignorance is finished and past; going forward, one's conduct should be carried out knowingly and with discipline (nemasta). This opens the samāsa's insistence on deliberate, informed living replacing careless drift.

Stop excusing present choices by past ignorance — from today, act with deliberate awareness instead of habit.

Keep the company of the jāṇatā — the one who truly knows; serve that person; and slowly, patiently absorb their sound judgment (sadbuddhi). This begins a long list of ways to attach oneself fully to a wise guide.

Identify someone in your life who genuinely knows more than you in an area that matters, and deliberately spend time near them.

Learn to write from the knower, learn to read from the knower, and ask the knower about everything — even basic literacy and understanding should be sought from someone who truly knows, not assumed.

Do not be embarrassed to ask a knowledgeable person even basic questions rather than muddling through alone.

Render real service to the knower; wear out your own effort on their behalf; and study how they actually think through a matter (vicāra), not just what they conclude.

When you learn from someone, offer real help in return, and pay attention to their reasoning process, not only their final answers.

Worship, serve, and find joy in the company of the knower — through repeated, careful examination (vivaravivarom) of what they offer, not passive proximity.

Engage actively with a mentor's teaching — examine and re-examine it — rather than just being near them.

Even singing and music should be learned from the knower — sing their songs, play alongside them, learn their range of modulation. Artistic and aesthetic formation, too, comes through the wise.

Seek out skilled people to shape your taste and craft in any art you care about, rather than developing it in isolation.

Cling to the knower as one clings to a garment's hem; accept their remedy when unwell; and follow whatever discipline (pathya) they prescribe before anything else. Total, trusting reliance is the image here.

When you commit to a mentor's guidance, follow their prescribed discipline first, before improvising your own approach.

Learn discernment (parīkṣā) from the knower, train under them, and even practice something as basic as swimming under their guidance — competence in any domain, however ordinary, should be properly taught, not self-taught by trial alone.

For skills that carry real risk if done wrong, seek proper instruction rather than teaching yourself by trial and error.

Speak as the knower speaks, act as they instruct, and take up their contemplative focus (dhyāna) in its many forms — imitation of speech and conduct as a stage of real learning.

In early learning from a mentor, deliberately imitate their manner and habits before you branch into your own style.

Learn the knower's stories, understand their practical wisdom (yukti), and study every aspect of their affairs — treat their lived experience as a curriculum.

Ask people you respect to tell you their stories and reasoning, not just their conclusions — the stories carry the real teaching.

Understand the knower's difficulties (pech) and learn to untangle their complications; preserve what they preserve, so that people around remain content.

Pay attention to what a trusted mentor protects and prioritizes, and support the same things, rather than pursuing your own separate agenda.

Understand the occasions the knower recognizes — when to act and how — adopt their temperament (raṅga), and practice attuning to the waves of their inspiration.

Notice the timing and mood a skilled person brings to a situation, and practice matching that sensitivity yourself.

Take up the knower's earnest attentiveness, learn their reasoning (tarka), and understand their implied meaning even before they say it aloud.

Practice reading a trusted person's unspoken intent, not just their explicit words, so you can respond before being told.

The knower's shrewdness, their skill in worldly and political affairs (rājakāraṇa), and their exposition of truth (nirūpaṇa) — all of this should be continually listened to and absorbed.

Value practical, worldly savvy alongside spiritual insight in the people you learn from — both matter.

Learn the knower's poetic compositions, learn to recognize prose from verse, and understand sweet, meaningful language from within, not merely on the surface.

When reading something well-crafted, pause to feel its meaning inwardly rather than skimming past its form.

Study the knower's literary compositions, their careful distinctions of language, and thoroughly investigate their various conversations and dialogues.

Read closely and repeatedly the words of someone whose judgment you trust, rather than only skimming once.

The knower's sharpness, their forbearance, and their generosity — these qualities should all be understood and, implicitly, absorbed.

Notice how a wise person balances sharpness with patience and generosity, and try to hold that same balance yourself.

The knower's rich imagination, their far-reaching foresight, and their careful deliberation should all be understood.

When making decisions, borrow the habit of thinking several steps ahead from someone who reliably does so.

The knower's fruitful use of time, their spiritual discernment (adhyātma-viveka), and their many virtues — all of it should be taken in.

Study how a person you admire actually spends their time, since that reveals their real priorities better than their words do.

The knower's path of devotion, their practice of dispassion (vairāgya-yoga), and their whole situation and context should be understood.

Try to understand the full context that shapes a mentor's choices before adopting their practices wholesale.

The knower's knowledge should be observed, their meditation practice learned, and their subtle signs understood — attentiveness that goes beyond words to notice small cues.

Pay attention to a mentor's small, wordless habits and cues, since these often carry more than their explicit instruction.

The knower's non-attachment, their quality of living beyond identification with the body, and their exposition of Brahman — should be understood. This closes the long list of what to absorb from the wise.

Look for and learn from the moments a trusted person acts with genuine detachment, not just their stated beliefs about detachment.

The pivot: there is really only one true Knower — the Antarātmā, the indwelling Self. Its glory cannot be told, and no one can set a limit on its knowledge, skill, and virtue. All the qualities catalogued above ultimately point to this one indwelling knower.

Remember that any human teacher's wisdom is a reflection of a deeper source — stay oriented to that source, not just the person.

God's virtues and glories (guṇānuvāda) should be discussed continuously; from such recounting, abundant joy naturally arises.

Make a habit of speaking gratefully or admiringly about what is good and sacred in your life — the practice itself lifts your mood.

What Parameśvara has created is always right in front of one's eyes; discerning people should study it through repeated, careful examination rather than a single glance.

Look repeatedly and carefully at the ordinary world around you instead of assuming a first glance tells you everything.

Whatever exists has been created by the Lord of the world (Jagadeśvara); but 'the created' must first be distinguished from its creator — one has to separate the maker from the made before understanding either clearly.

When evaluating your own work or life, separate what you actually did from the larger forces and gifts that made it possible.

He creates all people, yet looking directly one cannot see him; by the strength of discernment (vivek), his presence must be inferred rather than perceived outright.

Accept that some of the most important realities in life must be reasoned toward, not directly witnessed — do not demand proof that isn't available.

When meditation on him is kept unbroken, he compassionately provides sustenance; one's conversation, at all times, should be carried on as if it were a portion offered to him.

Try to speak and act throughout your day as if it were offered up, not just performed for its own sake.

One who does not hold to meditation is called an abhakta (non-devotee); one who does is a bhakta; and it is the bhakta whom he frees from worldly bondage.

Judge your own devotion by whether you actually maintain the practice, not by how you feel about it in the abstract.

At the culmination of devoted practice (upāsanā), there is unbroken communion between the divine and the devotee; only one with real experience (anubhava) will know this through direct realization (pratyaya), not through description.

Trust your own direct experience of what deepens your practice over secondhand descriptions of what it should feel like.