Q and A: Where do we go after Moksha

Shriman answers a question that was asked during a Satsang.

The question "Where do we go after we attain Moksha?" is one that arises from a deep curiosity about the existential journey of the jivatma and the fundamental nature of being. To thoughtfully explore this inquiry, we must first understand the underlying assumptions that give rise to it and the metaphysical framework it emerges from.

Attainment, in the context of Moksha, can be likened to escaping a powerful gravitational pull. Imagine the process of launching a satellite into orbit: to overcome the Earth's gravity, the rocket must reach a certain escape velocity. Similarly, to break free from the cycle of birth and death, the jivatma must acquire enough momentum to transcend the bindings of worldly existence. During a rocket launch, the propellant and heavy boosters are essential to propel the vehicle beyond a certain altitude, but once their purpose is served, they become excess baggage and must be discarded for the craft to travel further efficiently. This analogy encapsulates the core idea: our own identifications, attachments, and desires function like gravitational forces, holding us within the orbit of worldly experience.

At the heart of these binding forces are the concepts of ahamkara and mamakara. Ahamkara is the ego, the sense of "I" or self derived from our identification with the body, mind, and personality. Mamakara, on the other hand, is the sense of "mine," the attachments and possessiveness that arise in conjunction with ahamkara. When one says, "this is my house, my family, my achievements," this is mamakara at work, reinforcing the ego. These identifications are not inherently negative; they provide us with the framework to operate, care, and take responsibility in the world. However, if we lose perspective and believe that we are nothing beyond these labels and attachments, we become ensnared by them. We remain stuck, tethered to the gravitational field of relative existence, unable to realize our true, boundless nature.

The process of breaking free—Moksha—means liberation from these limited identifications. It is not about going somewhere else in a spatial sense, but about transcending the narrow self-definitions that keep us shackled to the cycle of samsara, the cycle of births and deaths. Every life lived, every identity assumed, carries within it a span and a scope, determined by one’s prarabdha, or destiny shaped by past actions. Once that span is completed, the circumstances that previously defined our existence naturally reach their endpoint, compelling us to move on. The moment of disembodiment, or physical death, is a profound transition, a point where we are required to relinquish attachments related to the body, relationships, and possessions. If this letting go is not done consciously, the departure can be traumatic. However, if one has lived with awareness and understanding, the process is gentle and seamless—like a snake shedding its old skin.

The body we inhabit is a complex accumulation of the five elements—earth, water, fire, air, and ether—assembled through the food we eat, the water we drink, and the air we breathe. When life departs, this composition disintegrates and returns to its elemental origins, much like the booster stages dropping away from a rocket once their purpose has been served. This is true not only for the physical body (the annamaya kosha), but also for the subtler layers of our individuality. The pranamaya kosha (energy body), the manomaya kosha (mind sheath), and the vijnanamaya kosha (intellect sheath), all these covering sheaths are products of identification and attachment. When we are able to dissolve these identifications, the subtle body too disintegrates and merges back into its source, liberating the pure consciousness underlying them.

If these accumulated identifications and attachments are not relinquished, they act as dead weight, much like spent rocket fuel that hasn't been jettisoned, restricting our capacity to progress. When the identifications are dropped, what remains is unconditioned awareness, unbound by the relativity of space and time. Progress or attainment at this point is termed "satgati," a good, noble progression—not a journey of outward movement but an inward evolution. Satgati signifies a state that is increasingly independent of space, time, and other relative coordinates. The deeper this attainment, the less it is about going to a place, and the more it becomes about realizing a dimension of being that transcends all conceptual limitations. It is about discovering the here and now, the ever-present reality that underlies all appearances of change and movement.

This realization, however, is not merely theoretical or intellectual—a matter of rosy imagination or sophisticated philosophy. Indian wisdom traditions emphasize the importance of direct vision, or "darshana," in which the truth of one’s nature becomes visible to oneself in immediate experience. The goal is not to craft elaborate abstractions, but to see and know directly through personal insight and sadhana, the disciplined pursuit of spiritual practice. Sadhana is the intentional process of gaining the momentum to transcend our old identities, through inquiry, meditation, ethical living, and deepening self-awareness.

So, when we ask where do we go after attaining Moksha, the answer is quite profound: after Moksha, the jivatma does not go anywhere in the ordinary sense, because the one who 'goes'—the limited persona and all its identifications—has dissolved. With Moksha, the jivatma is no longer subject to the push and pull of desires, attachments, and karmic compulsion. The journey is not about traveling to some heaven or realm, but about merging into a dimension that is not mapped by the reference points of time and space. It is a return to our original, natural state—pure consciousness, boundless and free.

This state is not devoid of experience or blankness, but rather an abiding in one's own true being, a homecoming to the essence that is beyond birth and death, beyond coming and going. Moksha is not a reward or a new destination, but the realization of one’s innate, ever-free self. In this ultimate liberation, all questions of where to go become moot. The individual jivatma, like a river merging into the ocean, ceases to exist as a separate stream and becomes indistinguishable from the infinite waters—it is everywhere, in all times, in all places, and yet beyond all of them. This is the promise and the mystery of spiritual freedom.