Material Success and Happiness Through Yoga Principles

by Swami Kriyananda
(J. Donald Walters)

Copyright © 2005 Hansa Trust
All rights reserved.
Lesson Twelve
What Kind of Compromises?
The Principles
Compromise is of several kinds. A compromise of principles is always reprehensible, whether it be from moral weakness or from motives of gain. Always, however, it is our inner motive that counts most, whether karmically or for profit.
There are of course many sorts of compromise. Diplomatic compromise usually means merely sacrificing one advantage for another. That is not the kind of compromise that concerns me here. There is mercantile bargaining, engaged in for greater profit. This, too, is not the kind of compromise I intend. There are compromises of love and friendship, which people make to reassure one another of their good will; this comes closer to what I mean. And there are the kinds of compromises made in the name of peace when, between conflicting principles, peace seems the more important.
Compromise, in other words, is sometimes right and desirable, and sometimes wrong even if it has a desirable end.
Decisions that people claim to base on “principle” too often equate principle with mere convenience. In business as in government, compromise is often merely a question of agreeing on what is acceptable to all persons concerned. It is in the matter, however, of what is right ethically and spiritually that the question becomes serious. Unfortunately, this may be the most difficult question of all to resolve.
Again, fortunately, these difficult questions of high principle concern us here only rarely. Usually, where business or political or even familial situations are involved, the principles are not spiritual, but only human. Such situations sometimes cry out for compromise, but the issues involved are not absolute; they indicate, rather, a need for harmony, or for expanded sympathy.
Supposing a decision in business concerns an acquisition of wealth on the part of some, but a loss to others of freedom and dignity: to decide in favor of the few at a cost to the many would be unprincipled. A decision, again, that is based on self-interest but is likely to create enemies is almost always unprincipled. A decision that seems perfectly reasonable from an organizational standpoint, therefore, but that is sure to do harm, should be rejected as contrary to right principle. Often, making a right decision is fraught with difficulties.
Sometimes a purely human consideration is at stake. Years ago there was a member at Ananda Village who decided to leave the community. He requested a higher recompense for his home than the rest felt was reasonable. In this case, the majority were clearly in the right: This man had, admittedly, devoted many hours to building his home as he claimed, but the time he’d spent was not commensurate with the quality of his workmanship. Why, the rest of the community asked, should they bear the cost of his ineptitude? Our accountant especially argued that the value of the building should be set according to some exact standard, and of course he was right. However, no standards had been set so far. The accountant concluded his argument by saying, “It’s a matter of principle.” True indeed. The principle to which our accountant referred was that to give in might establish a dangerous precedent.
I took another line, however. Admitting that his line of reasoning was both right and reasonable, I said, “But isn’t it an important principle also to be compassionate?”
This introduced a different, though unbusinesslike, dimension into the discussion. For reasons I won’t go into here, compassion was important in this case. Everyone accepted my opinion, and eventually realized that the decision had, for a spiritual family, been right. As a precedent, moreover, that decision did us no harm at all. Rather, it helped to show those who came that our way was to do our best to follow one of our basic principles: “People are more important than things.” Our decision in his case underscored the basic fact that Ananda is run on human, and not on only monetary, principles.
Sometimes there are considerations in business, also, that should be kept in mind apart from the usual “bottom line” of profit. I urge all students of these lessons to keep the importance of human values in mind. If someone insists that business has no other purpose than to make money, he overlooks the vital fact that concentration on money alone causes one’s humanity to shrivel up. What is money, indeed, without happiness?
Often it is only by hindsight that we can know whether a course of action was right or wrong, wise or foolish, informed or ignorant. These things are revealed finally in their results. Experience in such cases is the best teacher. Determine by your experience what works best, and what doesn’t work if only because it has deprived you of happiness. By our mistakes, wisdom is achieved.
Another point worthy of consideration is the character of those on whose decisions people depend. The American Revolution was an example. What justified it in the end was the high character of its leaders.
Loyalty is a virtue, of course. Should the American colonists, then, have remained loyal to the king of England? Many thought this was their duty. The revolution, however, was justified not only by its results, inasmuch as it paved the way for the birth of a great nation, no longer a subsidiary colony of the British Empire. The American revolution was justified above all by the character of its principals. George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson: these and other great men and women sufficed by their own shining integrity to validate the revolution.
The English king, on his side, was not loyal to his subjects. His very lack rendered null and void, surely, his claim on their loyalty. He should have been the first to show loyalty to his subjects. Instead, he repeatedly expressed contempt for them and for their eminently reasonable demands. When a ruler denies to his subjects their human dignity, he relinquishes the right to rule them.
The question of principles arose in my own life also in my dismissal from my Guru’s organization, for reasons which I knew were untrue and unjust. Had I tried subsequently to foment rebellion, the results would have shown me in the wrong, for they would have produced disharmony. Had I insisted that I alone was right, and everyone else, wrong; or had those over me pleaded in vain that I reconsider my position: in every such case the probabilities would have mounted that they were in the right and my own position, therefore, untenable. Instead, as soon as I was informed that my work didn’t have their support, I gave up all my plans, in the name of harmony. Later, they summoned me from India to New York, where two of them met me to inform me that I had been categorically dismissed. I pleaded, “Please, put it in writing that I will do nothing for the rest of my life but wash dishes. I’ll sign that paper immediately. I came to this organization for no other purpose than to find God through service to my Guru.”
“Never!” was the reply. Later on during our talk they told me, “From now on we want to forget that you ever lived!” What could I do? My life, so it seemed to me, had just been destroyed.
In retrospect, what do I see? It has become clear that they did me a signal favor! For they released me to serve my Guru in ways that he himself had told me to do. I believe that for me it was right to offer them every possible compromise, not out of weakness, but out of a desire to establish harmony in the family of our Guru. For, of course, I wasn’t their disciple. It was to him that I had sworn my loyalty. My repeated offers of compromise, however, were rejected out of hand: an outcome that turned out the best for me, at last.
To offer compromise in good faith is, I think, right and, often, necessary. It clears the path ahead. With a clear conscience, one can devote all his energy to his next step, for he has been released from any possible doubt as to the correctness of his course.
What about my erstwhile companions? Did their rejection of my offers of compromise help them in the end? That is for them, not for me, to say. In the end, what must concern everyone is his own clarity. I was, and remain still, their friend; that, as far as I personally am concerned, ends the story. “My spine is straight,” as an Indian friend of mine used to put it. In my own work, however, I am still convinced that I owe it to those who work with me to give loyalty to them, first.
India, which consisted not of colonists but of a people conquered, was doubly right in its non-violent revolution. Indians were right also in their so-called “Sepoy Mutiny,” though not necessarily in all of the acts they committed during that mutiny. India’s independence was karmically speaking, in fact, a foregone conclusion. And England’s fall, which is in the process of happening, was also a foregone karmic conclusion.
There are human and spiritual laws ruling in these matters. Businessmen, and not only spiritual people, need to learn those laws and to live by them.
Legend has it that when Martin Luther broke away from the Roman Catholic Church, he posted a challenge on the church door at the castle of Wittenberg listing ninety-five Church dogmas and practices that, in his consideration, conflicted with Scripture. “Here I stand,” he declared. “I cannot do otherwise. God help me. Amen.”
Luther was convinced that his stand was principled, for he showed that certain Church practices opposed the actual teachings of Jesus Christ. Luther failed to understand, however, that mere words, even when appearing in scripture, can never be absolute. Words are too susceptible of misinterpretation. Scriptural truths must be discerned in their spirit, not in their terminology. Scripture cannot be written as a legal document, in which lawyers try to close every possible loophole. Even legal documents, moreover, are fallible. For this reason, scriptural statements can actually be used to support unjust, and not only just, causes. As the saying has it, “Even the devil quotes scripture.”
Luther himself had a fundamental disagreement in later years with Zwingli, another Protestant leader. At the famous Marburg Colloquy, the two of them, basing their arguments wholly on scripture, disagreed as to one of its fundamental meanings. The truth depends at last, then, on wise interpretation. The very teaching in the Bible, “Love thy neighbor,” is open to diverse interpretations, depending on whether, for instance, the interpretation is made by a saint or by a libertine! The truth is, one can judge only by experience—one’s own experience, or someone else’s.
I lived for several years with my Guru. It astonished me to see how often his words, which he enunciated clearly and forcefully, were understood variously by different disciples. Always, I realized, it depended on how wise they were, themselves.
Religious wars have been a blight on the tree of history. They have been fought by protagonists who had, one supposes, equally sincere convictions.
The outcome of an action is the most certain test of its validity. It takes action, of course, for results to be obtained. And that is why people need the freedom to make their own mistakes. Fortunately, that experience doesn’t always have to be one’s own. From studying the lives of others, many lessons can be learned.
Luther’s uncompromising challenge to the established order was the key event in the Protestant Reformation. It took moral courage on his part, certainly. Yet I wonder how much of it was courage, and how much, sheer stubbornness. Usually, an adamant stand like that demonstrates refusal even to listen to reason. To decide whether a person who stands firmly by his beliefs is really only being rigid, and whether or not compromise would be the wiser path, requires an open mind.
On one of several ocean voyages that my family made to America during my childhood, my younger brother Bob invented a private game of his own. He would run headlong down the deck, keeping his eyes tightly shut and bumping blithely into anything or anyone in his way. He was only a child, after all, and people therefore thought him cute. Indeed, by means of his game he made many friends.
For an adult to rush through life similarly, however, keeping his eyes closed to all danger, would be madness. And that may be the correct diagnosis for adults who refuse to listen to reason. Religionists make that mistake constantly when they declare that their values are absolute. Martin Luther’s claim was absolutist. The Roman Catholic Church, in its dogmas, was even more absolutist. Indeed, dogmatism increases in direct proportion to one’s inability to prove his point.
Ananda Moyi Ma, a great woman saint of modern India, and as non-dogmatic a person as I have ever known, had a favorite way of describing God: “It (the Spirit) is, and It isn’t, and neither is It, nor is It not.” A conundrum? Certainly! Her meaning was simply that God is beyond all rational explanation.
Atheism, by contrast, can be justified only by opposing it logically to reasoned definitions of God. It cannot be justified by opposing it to higher states of consciousness, for those states transcend reason and must be experienced. It would be absurd even for an atheist, moreover, to challenge the obvious fact that he exists, though some have tried to do so. The French philosopher René Descartes tried to prove that we exist by stating, “I think, therefore I am.” His so-called “proof” is deeply flawed, for we are actually more conscious when we don’t think, but are deeply aware: for example, during deep spiritual experiences.
Atheists who advance rational arguments to prove the nonexistence of God depend on a long line of reasoning, piling premise upon premise as if building a wall of bricks. Looking down from above, the base of that structure is often so far down as to be invisible and lost, to one’s befuddlement.
There is a story from the life of William James, the philosopher and psychologist. An old woman had listened to his discourse on the nature of the universe. She corrected him sternly. “Mr James,” she said, “you’re quite wrong. The world doesn’t spin through space, as you claim. It sits on the back of a turtle.”
“Thank you for the information,” replied the famous man, humoring her. “Now then, tell me: What does that turtle stand on?”
“Why,” she replied, as if stating the obvious, “on the back of another turtle.”
“I see,” said the famous sage with a twinkle. “Please tell me, then: What does that second turtle stand on?”
The woman was prepared for this challenge. Seeing the direction of his reasoning, she raised an admonitory finger. “It’s no use, Mr James,” she scolded. “It’s turtles all the way down!”
At that point I imagine he only smiled, letting her feel that she’d won the argument. There is no other way to reply to ignorance. A mistake often made is to try to drive the nail of logic into a metal rod. The attempt is useless for both victor and vanquished. Compromise, in certain matters, is impossible.
Indeed, the woman’s reasoning was not wholly unlike many people’s arguments for atheism. Premise rests upon premise, like that “totem pole” of turtles, until the base of that pillar of reasoning is lost to sight altogether.
James Crowe, a psychologist, once demanded of his students rhetorically, “Has man evolved more by evolving a brain than the elephant by evolving a trunk?” Just think how many “turtles” had to stand one on the other in his line of reasoning!
His first premise stood on the presumption (perfectly normal in modern biology, actually) that evolution is purely accidental. That premise totters upon another: that the brain, which is a physical organ, is the producer of thought.
The third “turtle-premise” is that consciousness is the product of that thinking.
The fourth is that the elephant’s trunk functions separately from its guiding brain. (Crowe cannot have taken this point into consideration, however; the objection, once seen, is too telling to ignore.)
The fifth premise is that awareness is no more significant to the elephant than is its trunk, which it uses for grasping leaves and raising them to its mouth.
And so the logic goes on, plunging to ever-more murky depths, but never so far down as to reach two fundamental questions: first, If the elephant is not conscious of what it eats, what motive has it for eating at all? And second, If the human brain is no more functional than a feeder, how can one account for man’s curiosity in even asking such a question? It isn’t that a physical organ, the brain, is more “useful” to him than his nose. What makes the brain such a wonder is man’s very capacity to wonder.
A man once challenged me following a lecture I’d given, “I’m an atheist. Can you define God in such a way as to help me accept what you say about Him?”
I paused in reflection a moment, then suggested, “Why not try thinking of God as the highest potential you can imagine for yourself?”
He was momentarily taken aback. Then he replied in a tone of astonishment, “Well, yeah, I can live with that!”
It is foolish to argue on such abstract subjects as absolute truth. As Paramhansa Yogananda put it, “Fools argue: wise men discuss.” Often only a very faint dividing line exists between what appears as moral courage and what is, in fact, pig-headedness.
It is not usual, of course, for business people to concern themselves with absolute truths—at least, not in their discussions on work. Those interchanges concern relativities. In such discussions, it is easier to accept the need for compromise. What hinders agreement among business people is not bigotry, but conflicting desires. Once a businessman has recognized that selfishness is self-limiting, he will incline, more naturally than most theologians, to be fair-minded. It is even to his advantage to see other points of view than his own, for it helps him to make his points more convincingly.
To refuse absolutely to compromise is like taking up arms in battle. It is a confrontational attitude, reminiscent of a line in Autobiography of a Yogi: “Reason had forsaken him; he could only shout.”
Many years ago, I had an instructive lesson in my own need for open-mindedness without sacrificing my basic beliefs. It was when I was doing the research for my book, Crises in Modern Thought (since then renamed, Out of the Labyrinth). I had lived for fourteen years in a monastery where, for all of us, certain beliefs were self-evident and in no way controversial.
A time came in my life, with the crisis I referred to above, when I realized that I was free to follow my Guru’s instructions to me to write books. Just before my dismissal, in fact, I came upon an article in “Span,” the United States Information Service magazine in India, written by the head of the philosophy department at MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology). The article explained certain major trends in modern philosophical thinking.
My training had been altogether different from that widely accepted line of reasoning. My Guru had schooled us in the subtle teachings of ancient India. In light of that training, I could see clearly that modern philosophy was fatally flawed, even in its own terms. Some of its errors, indeed, were so blatant that the article astonished me.
It would make a wonderful contribution to the history of philosophy, I thought, were someone to write a book exposing the fallacies of modern materialistic philosophy. Present-day insistence that everything is “meaningless” rests on modern scientific biases.
Researching this subject was, for me, a highly uncongenial task. To finish that book required all of sixteen years—squeezed in among other activities. My difficulty lay in confronting my own narrowness of thought. It was natural for me to ridicule points of view that were, to my mind, patently absurd. I had no choice but to acknowledge, however, that many thinkers whose ideas I wanted to confront were brilliant, even if they had succumbed in their thinking to certain false assumptions of modern times. I was sure that many of the supposedly proved “facts” on which their thinking was based would someday be discarded—as many have, indeed, gone out of fashion in the past. Scientific claims, and even “proofs,” are by no means infallible. Every insufficiently tested premise can create a spreading web of error. Meanwhile, however, I had to accept those concepts provisionally, at face value. Otherwise, my arguments would fail to convince those whom I wanted to reach. I had then to analyze their data to see if they necessarily dictated the conclusions that had been reached on the basis of them. I had to pay close attention to other arguments and show them respect, for most of them (not all) were persons of integrity.
To do all this was, for me, a great challenge. I had to go into the camp of the “enemy,” so to speak, listen with an open mind to his arguments, and then—not by offering alternate facts, but working from the same set of facts—challenge his conclusions. Needless to say, the task was by no means enjoyable for me. All my sympathies lay in the diametrically opposite direction.
Fortunately for me, I emerged unscathed. Indeed, I came out at the other end of that dark tunnel armed with new insights that I could never have gained in any other way.
One thing I learned as I deeply pondered those points was how important it is to keep an open mind, and therefore to be willing to compromise, if necessary—not by sacrificing one’s principles, but by questioning the structure of ideas that has been raised on those principles. I had forced myself to listen to opinions that were utterly incompatible with my own, expressed often with a superior sneer for people’s faith in God. I had even to consider sincerely whether those people might be right. And I found, in the end, that my understanding of the teachings of Vedanta and Yoga was deeper than ever. I had, moreover, managed to avoid the temptation—which, in thinking, is a pitfall—to reject out of hand points of view which I was certain were wrong. Should any reader pounce on me with the cry, “Aha! In other words, you, too, were biased in your thinking!” I would reply with calm conviction, “No, I was not. And it cost me a great deal not to be.”
I fully realized that the people I was opposing were widely accepted in the world as being some of the most brilliant thinkers of our times. No matter how brilliant a thinker, however, he cannot invent truth. It dismayed me to realize that most studious people would dismiss my conclusions anyway, and not give them a second thought, for they themselves were biased in their thinking. They would consider it a mere presumption on my part to have taken on all those famous people. I reminded myself, on the other hand, that the truth simply is: It cannot be arrived at by presumption. One must never, if he seeks the truth sincerely, leave the last word to any so-called “authority.” He must gaze at the facts clearly, and keep an unprejudiced mind. What matters is not who speaks, but simply what is being said.
Throughout history, I reminded myself, some of the brightest minds had been shown, in the end, to have been wrong. And though I myself accepted completely the authority of my Guru and India’s great sages, I had to set aside even that faith, at least provisionally. It was a solace to me that those great sages have always been in agreement with one another, and have shown a wisdom far beyond the brilliance of any modern skeptic. I had, however, to judge for myself the supposed “facts” proclaimed by modern science.
My faith, I am happy to say, is now stronger than it ever was, and I am in a position to champion with clear modern logic the wisdom of great saints and masters, who are far wiser than I, but who have not taken the trouble to wrestle with this particular set of follies. My own integrity has increased owing to the fact that, for a time, I used my reasoning mind, as others have, to work through what they’ve presented to the world as conclusions based on facts.
Later, when I founded Ananda Village, I realized that I had trained myself to listen with an open mind to others’ points of view; to compromise with these points of view when necessary, without sacrificing my principles, and even to change certain directions in my own thinking, if anyone succeeded in showing me wrong on any point. For what counts in the end, after all, is only the truth.
Human nature does not find it easy to accept compromise, particularly when one is in the stronger position. Compromise, in such cases, must come not from weakness, but from self-honesty.
Applying these considerations to business situations and to the issue of material success, I understand more deeply than most people, perhaps, the need for frequent compromise. Especially when what is at stake is not a high principle—and even when principles do seem to be at stake—the mind must be held open to every possibility.
To return to my example of Martin Luther: Both he and his Church superiors thought their disagreement was based on principle. The main principle, in the Church’s view, was obedience. Ought someone who is committed to a religious path always to obey his superiors, even if he considers them wrong? And ought a worker in a business organization always to comply with his boss, even if he thinks the boss wrong?
I would answer that it is important to comply, in certain matters at least, simply in the name of harmony. In other matters, however, and particularly in matters of conscience, to compromise might be a mistake.
I have read of young novices in Catholic monasteries who were told to plant seedlings upside down in the ground as a test of their obedience. Common sense rebels against complying with such unreasonable demands. Integrity, moreover, rebels against surrendering one’s own will to someone who, one has reason to believe, lacks wisdom.
I cannot imagine that I am unusual in having had, in my life, to deal with what seemed to me unreasonable demands from others—not only bosses and superiors, but many who tried to get me to conform to what they wanted.
What I’ve always tried to do—and I think my experience might be helpful to others—is affirm an inward sense of freedom, so that my reactions would proceed from my own integrity, and not be influenced by others’ opinions. I’ve then considered all aspects of the matter, impartially. If the demands seemed reasonable to me, I’ve followed them. If I considered them unreasonable, it wasn’t that I necessarily rejected them. Sometimes, I decided it was good to submit, at least for the sake of my own spiritual development, as an exercise in humility perhaps, or to help someone else, and in the interests of harmony. (Few decisions, after all, are matters of life and death!) I’ve never given anyone reason to believe that he’d “beaten me down, however.” When I’ve compromised, it was always because such was my free decision, not because I’d been driven to it.
My own guru’s recommendation on obedience was that it should be given unconditionally only to someone of true wisdom—specifically, to a true guru whose guidance one has accepted. Otherwise, he said, blind or forced obedience can weaken one’s will power.
Monastic discipline is often imposed intentionally, indeed, for the very purpose of weakening the will. Religious orders often teach that any manifestation of will power indicates self-will. Nonsense! Spineless people will never find God. The real reason religious superiors don’t like disagreement from those under them is that they cannot give reasonable answers!
I urge everyone who wants material success to live by three principles above all: First, work always with a sense of inner freedom. Second, work for overall peace and harmony, even if doing so entails making difficult, though acceptable, compromises. Third, offer up to God the fruits of everything you do.
Sri Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita counseled action without desire for the fruits of action. His counsel should serve as a guideline not only for devotees, but for people seeking success in the world. By non-attachment, one is much more likely to succeed, if only because he will then be free to change his direction at a moment’s notice.
Many years of experimenting with these truths have convinced me that, when one follows them, everything turns out eventually for the best.
The early American “rebels” (as they were considered by the English) also offered their actions up to God, from a desire to please Him. Early in this course of lessons I quoted a friend of mine from South America saying to me, “The difference between your country and our countries in South America is that yours was settled by people who were motivated by their desire for freedom of worship. Settlers in our countries, on the other hand, came in quest of gold. Just see the consequences. Your land has flourished, whereas ours have been in constant turmoil.”
India’s freedom, also, was won by spiritual means. Therefore her prosperity is assured. My Guru declared several times that India and the United States of America would someday unite to lead the world toward progress, prosperity, and happiness, inwardly and outwardly.
The Application
In seeking to know whether a course of action that you contemplate is right or wrong, consult, among other things, the pages of history. Compromise has been effective only when it has been offered from a position of strength, not of weakness. One’s strength may be moral as it was in Gandhi’s case, or it may be military. In any case, it must be strength, not cowardly weakness.
A study was sponsored by a certain group in Congress in America who wanted support for their claim that disarmament was the best way to persuade all countries to disarm. Several hundred thousands of dollars were spent on this research, but the results proved embarrassing. In every single case, countries in the historic past that had laid down their arms were later conquered by others that were militarily strong.
This discovery was, as I said, far from welcome to those who believed in peace and harmony maintained by a sacrifice of military strength. One cannot argue with the facts, however. Perhaps, in some more spiritual age in the future, the way to peace will be paved by general disarmament. If so, that age is still distant from us. As Paramhansa Yogananda said, “The reason India won her independence by non-violent means was that the English are gentlemen. Had the struggle been against Russian communism, however, it would have failed. If you try practicing non-violence on a tiger—unless your power of love is very strong—you’ll finish practicing it in the tiger’s stomach!”
Be realistic! As my Guru once put it to me, “Be practical in your idealism.” Do what works. Also, within that framework, do also what comes as close as possible to dharma. Compromise is sometimes necessary, but, as I have said, never compromise from a position of weakness.
I may seem to have committed that mistake myself in my life, but that was a perception by others. It was, in fact, in strength that I offered the ultimate compromise of which I was capable. For I offered to give Ananda to my gurubhais in his organization. They thought this was a plea for help, and I didn’t mind their misconception. I was simply holding firmly to the truth as I myself understood it. After several years they actually tried to destroy me by legal means. That attempt ended in failure, and I and those with me became in the end, all the stronger.
Meditation
In any action you contemplate, try to ascertain the rightness of your principles. Remember always, when doing so, that firm conviction is not proof in itself that your principles are right. Offer your proposed course of action mentally, therefore, to the spiritual eye in the forehead. Ask God and your own superconscious, “Is this action justified? Is it dharmic? Is it fair to everyone concerned?”
Then listen to the feeling response in your heart. Seek there your answer. Is that feeling one of calmness? Does it suggest peaceful confirmation? Or does it suggest a certain restless uneasiness? If your heart is receptive, you will learn more and more to trust its response in everything.

Affirmation
“My will, Lord, is to do Thy will alone,
 for actions alone that are in harmony 
with Thee can lead to true success.”

Points to Remember
1. Compromise is sometimes right and desirable, and sometimes wrong even if it has a desirable end. A compromise of principles is always reprehensible.
2. A decision that seems perfectly reasonable from an organizational standpoint, but that is sure to do harm, should be rejected as contrary to right principle. Always keep in mind the importance of human values.
3. Often it is only by hindsight that we know whether a course of action was right or wrong. Determine by your experience what works best, and what doesn’t work. By our mistakes, wisdom is achieved.
4. To offer compromise in good faith often clears the path ahead. One can then devote all his energy to his next step, for he has been released from any possible doubt as to the correctness of his course.
5. As Paramhansa Yogananda put it, “Fools argue: wise men discuss.” Often only a very faint dividing line exists between what appears as moral courage and what is, in fact, pig-headedness.
6. Selfishness is self-limiting. Seeing other points of view than one’s own helps one to make his points more convincingly.
7. One must gaze at the facts clearly, and keep an unprejudiced mind. What matters is not who speaks, but simply what is being said.
8. Compromise must come not from weakness, but from self-honesty.
9. In business situations, frequent compromise is necessary. The mind must be held open to every possibility.
10. Obedience should be given unconditionally only to someone of true wisdom. Otherwise, my guru said, blind or forced obedience can weaken one’s will power.
11. Three important principles for material success: First, work always with a sense of inner freedom. Second, work for overall peace and harmony, even if doing so entails making difficult, though acceptable, compromises. Third, offer up to God the fruits of everything you do.
12. By non-attachment, or action without desire for the fruits of action, one is much more likely to succeed, if only because he will then be free to change his direction at a moment’s notice.
13. Firm conviction is not proof in itself that your principles are right. Offer your proposed course of action mentally to the spiritual eye in the forehead. Ask God and your own superconscious, “Is this action dharmic? Is it fair to everyone concerned?” Then listen to the feeling response in your heart. Does it suggest peaceful confirmation? Or does it suggest a certain restless uneasiness? If your heart is receptive, you will learn more and more to trust its response in everything.

Workbook Ideas
by Joseph Bharat Cornell
What Kind of Compromises?

Centeredness—Key to Inner Strength

Last year while I was in New Jersey on a lecture tour, Thomas, my host, told how centering his energy helped him calm a potentially dangerous situation. Thomas is the superintendent of a small, rural school district. He had recently suspended the high school wrestling coach for verbally abusing his players. The suspension had enraged the coach and his large, extended family—so much so, that some of them had physically threatened Thomas. 

One Sunday Thomas was working alone in the district office when four cars came to a screeching halt in front of his building. Out came a furious mob of the coach’s relatives. As they charged into the building, Thomas called his daughter to notify school security. 

In the seconds remaining, Thomas centered himself, and waited for the approaching storm. His “guests” barged into his office and began yelling, trying to intimidate him. Calmly, and without fear, Thomas listened to their tirade about why he was wrong to suspend the coach, and then quietly explained why he had made that decision. 

The coach’s relatives were very physical people, who respected strength. Thomas’ demonstration of courage and centeredness won them over. Soon afterwards, they not only accepted but also helped to resolve the situation with the coach. 

In this particular case, Thomas didn’t compromise his position, but his clarity and calmness resolved the controversy. We all want to influence others positively. The more clear and centered we are, the more we can do so, because centered energy is more magnetic than dissipated, reactive energy. 

The Secret of Winning People 

The difference between self-centeredness and Self-centeredness is one of direction. A contractive ego refers everything back to itself while one centered in the Self is broad in its sympathies. A person whose consciousness is expansive feels himself in others. This feeling of being united with Life makes him extremely effective in working with others. When Mahatma Gandhi lived in South Africa, the British administrators told newly arrived officials from England, “Don’t go near Gandhi; he’ll get to you.” Gandhi treated everyone as a friend, even his opponents. His love and fair-mindedness caused the British officials—if they weren’t careful—to appreciate his point of view, too.

Workbook Ideas

1.	How we think is predicated by how we feel, since feeling influences reason. When you negotiate with others, use the suggestions below to foster communication and trust:
	
•	Pray that the truth prevail
•	See yourself as the other person’s friend
•	Appeal to that person’s altruism
•	Concentrate on presenting solutions
•	Look for points of agreement
•	Forge lasting bonds

2.	If you anticipate any disharmony during your meeting, pray beforehand, using these guidelines: 

•	Ask God to guide you and open your heart and mind to His will. 

•	Visualize your upcoming discussion and surround everyone with divine light and love.

•	Remove from your heart any criticism or fear of others. Feel only harmony flowing from you to them. 

•	Clearly sense every participant’s willingness to accept the highest good.

•	If you have a controversial topic to discuss, introduce it during your visualization. Feel everyone calmly considering it without resistance. 

This way of praying attunes you to the superconscious and its unitive view of life.