The ancient banyan tree stretched its branches toward the sky as the Hindu sage walked with his son along the dusty path. He stopped suddenly. He pointed to a bird, and whispered "Thou art that." He pointed to a stone, and whispered "Thou art that." He pointed to the rushing river, and whispered "Thou art that." Three simple words that hold, perhaps, the most profound teaching of the Yogi philosophy. That you, I, and everything we perceive are manifestations of the same ultimate reality.
In every human soul there is a secret chamber in which the text of this knowledge lies hidden. In rare moments when this chamber door opens—through poetry, music, art, sports, deep religious feeling, or those unexplainable waves of uplift that come to us all—the truth is recognized. The soul finds peace in its harmony with the All. The sense of beauty, however expressed, when deeply felt, lifts us beyond our separate consciousness into another plane where unity is the keynote. The higher our feelings reach, the closer we come to consciously realizing the underlying unity.
This recognition of the Oneness of all existence transforms your very experience of being. Even a glimpse of this truth changes everything. No longer do you see yourself as a mere fragment that might be destroyed or as a tiny separate entity opposed to the Universe. No. You recognize yourself as a Center of Consciousness within the Great One Life.
You realize you can draw upon the Power, Strength, Life, and Wisdom of the Whole as you continue to unfold your awareness. There is no "outside" to fear because you are always at home within the All. The certainty of infinite Life becomes your foundation. Your individual life is merely an expression of the All Life, which cannot die.
The everyday concerns that once dominated you—the worries, griefs, and pains of personal existence—reveal themselves for what they truly are. Temporary appearances on the stage of consciousness. They become the costumes and props in the play of life rather than threats to your essential being.
When you truly understand "thou art that," you stop seeing others as strangers. You see them as different expressions of your shared essence. The boundaries that seem to separate you—skin, personality, belief—are recognized as the surface phenomena they are. Beneath these differences flows the same sacred current of being. The same consciousness experiencing itself through countless forms.
You engage more fully. You love more deeply. You act more compassionately. You know that what you do to others, you do to yourself. Not as metaphor, but as living truth. Just as the sage showed his son the bird, the stone, and the rushing river, you too begin to see the divine essence in everything you encounter. "Thou art that" transforms into the quiet recognition that greets you in each face you meet, each creature you encounter, each moment you experience.
