When we look up at the sky, it appears still, silent, and vast. It’s natural to see it as lifeless or jada—an inert physical space. In the same way, we label objects and even dead bodies as jada because they seem unconscious. There’s no movement, no response, no sign of inner awareness. But what if this stillness is not truly lifeless? What if what appears jada is actually holding a deep, silent potential within?
Traditionally, we consider something jada when it doesn’t show any signs of life. Even a human body, once the soul leaves, is referred to as jada because the expressions of consciousness are gone. But this jada state doesn’t mean emptiness. It’s more like a tightly packed capsule—where all the impressions, experiences, and memories are compressed and hidden, like data in a zip file. That’s why it feels dense, bound, and even suffocating.
On the other hand, when something is alive and expressive, we call it chetan—conscious. A living being breathes, feels, acts, and reflects. Its inner information is not hidden—it’s in motion, interacting with the world. This openness makes chetan appear far superior to jada. The life within it flows. It explores, it expresses, it evolves. That’s why we admire living beings—they are like windows through which consciousness shines.
But even chetan has its limitations. While the conscious being can act and interact, it still carries inner burdens—deep impressions called samskaras—that shape its personality, habits, and sufferings. The beauty, though, lies in the fact that a chetan being can work on itself. It can shed these burdens through inner work—whether through spiritual practice, self-inquiry, yoga, or meditation. This path leads to something even greater.
That greater state is param chetan—the supreme consciousness. It is not just living. It is fully awakened, totally free. It doesn’t carry any burden of impressions. It doesn’t suffer from ignorance or duality. It exists in its purest form: full of satta (existence), chitta (consciousness), and ananda (bliss). This is the real sky of the self—boundless and untouched.
Ironically, param chetan may still look like jada to the ordinary eye. A realized sage may appear calm and still like a rock or empty sky. But within that stillness lies a fullness beyond comprehension. What appears lifeless is, in fact, the most alive. It’s just not agitated or noisy. It’s like a silent ocean—motionless on the surface, yet infinitely deep.
So what we call jada may just be param chetan in disguise—consciousness in rest, not in absence. The journey of the soul is to move from being unconsciously bound, to consciously expressive, and finally to being consciously free. This is the hidden evolution—from inert matter, through active life, to divine being.
And in that ultimate state, the infinite sky within us is no longer veiled. It shines in its original light—pure, luminous, and complete.