When the Mind Tires of Its Own Tricks
Why do old habits feel so sweet, even when they keep the heart so hungry?
Why do old habits feel so sweet, even when they keep the heart so hungry?
Some nights, when the noise finally softens, an old ache sits by the bed. The mind replays all the ways it once thought freedom would come: in praise or pleasure, in secrets, in hoarding what might soothe the fear of being nothing at all. Again and again, the mind runs the same roads — bitter gossip, passing intimacies, fleeting riches. It knows these promises are empty, but the hunger still circles back. The thought returns: What if freedom was never there? What if it was always here, so quiet the noise never heard it?
In Raag Sorath, Guru Tegh Bahadur Sahib — the ninth revealed voice of the Guru, the sovereign of quiet courage — sings a sabad that meets this wearied mind with startling kindness and clarity. Recorded on Ang 631 of the Guru Granth Sahib, this sabad unmasks the mind’s self-made traps and points us gently back to the freedom hidden in plain sight: right here, within the heart.
ਸੋਰਠਿ ਮਹਲਾ ੯ ॥
Sorath mehlā 9
Raag Sorath, Ninth Sovereign
This is the setting and signature: Raag Sorath invites resolve, persuasive sweetness that urges the wavering mind toward certainty. Guru Tegh Bahadur Sahib’s wisdom arrives through it — both fierce and tender, uncompromising and forgiving.
ਮਨ ਰੇ ਕਉਨੁ ਕੁਮਤਿ ਤੈ ਲੀਨੀ ॥
Man re kaun kumat tai līnī.
O mind! What false understanding have you embraced?
The Guru asks not with accusation, but with astonished tenderness: Why have you made friends with a mind that tricks you? This line reveals the heart of the sabad — not condemnation, but an invitation to witness how easily the mind clings to misguided comforts.
ਪਰ ਦਾਰਾ ਨਿੰਦਿਆ ਰਸ ਰਚਿਓ ਰਾਮ ਭਗਤਿ ਨਹਿ ਕੀਨੀ ॥੧॥ ਰਹਾਉ ॥
Par dārā nindiā ras rachiō Rām bhagat nah kīnī. ||1|| Rahāu.
You delight in lusting after another’s spouse and in the sweetness of slander, but you have not engaged in the devotion of the All-Pervading. ||1|| Pause-reflect.
Here lies the core: this mind gets drunk on small, easy indulgences like gossip, blame, or secret desires. It avoids the deeper sweetness of remembrance, of dwelling in the vastness of the One. The Rahau signals: Pause here. Let this be the lantern for the rest.
ਮੁਕਤਿ ਪੰਥੁ ਜਾਨਿਓ ਤੈ ਨਾਹਨਿ ਧਨ ਜੋਰਨ ਕਉ ਧਾਇਆ ॥
Mukat panth jāniō tai nāhan dhan joran ka-u dhāiā.
You have not understood the path of freedom; instead, you chase endlessly after wealth.
Freedom is not far — but the mind, preferring tangible security, runs tirelessly after coins, hoards, status. The real mukat panth - the road out of bondage - goes unnoticed in this restless scurry.
ਅੰਤਿ ਸੰਗ ਕਾਹੂ ਨਹੀ ਦੀਨਾ ਬਿਰਥਾ ਆਪੁ ਬੰਧਾਇਆ ॥੧॥
Ant sang kāhū nahī dīnā birthā āp bandhiā. ||1||
In the end, nothing remains with you; in vain you have bound yourself in attachments. ||1||
No companion, no treasure follows when breath leaves. Yet the mind weaves ropes around itself daily, believing these knots will keep it safe.
ਨਾ ਹਰਿ ਭਜਿਓ ਨ ਗੁਰ ਜਨੁ ਸੇਵਿਓ ਨਹ ਉਪਜਿਓ ਕਛੁ ਗਿਆਨਾ ॥
Nā Har bhajiō na gur jan sēviō nah upjiō kachh giānā.
You have not remembered the One, nor served the Enlightened, nor has any understanding arisen within you.
No prayer on the tongue, no company of the wise, no light within — only the restless echo of old cravings. This line is not a scold, but a lament: Look, dear mind, how you cheat yourself of your own ease.
ਘਟ ਹੀ ਮਾਹਿ ਨਿਰੰਜਨੁ ਤੇਰੈ ਤੈ ਖੋਜਤ ਉਦਿਆਨਾ ॥੨॥
Ghat hī māhi Niranjan terai tai khojat udiānā. ||2||
The Pure One dwells within your own heart, yet you search in the forests outside. ||2||
The search for peace leads outward: rituals, pilgrimages, escapes. But the One you seek hides behind your own breath, waiting while you wander.
ਬਹੁਤੁ ਜਨਮ ਭਰਮਤ ਤੈ ਹਾਰਿਓ ਅਸਥਿਰ ਮਤਿ ਨਹੀ ਪਾਈ ॥
Bahat janam bharamat tai hāriō asthir mat nahī pāī.
Through countless lifetimes you have wandered and lost; you have not gained a steady mind.
A gentle revelation: this is not the first time. For lifetimes the mind has played this game — drift and distraction. The prize for all that wandering? More restlessness.
ਮਾਨਸ ਦੇਹ ਪਾਇ ਪਦ ਹਰਿ ਭਜੁ ਨਾਨਕ ਬਾਤ ਬਤਾਈ ॥੩॥੩॥
Mānas dēh pāi pad Har bhaj Nānak bāt batāī. ||3||3||
Now that you have received the human form, meditate on the One — this is the counsel Nanak shares. ||3||3||
Here, the Guru brings it home: You have this rare chance — this precious human vessel. Use it to lean into the Only One worth clinging to. This is not a threat; it is a gift. A gentle reminder that freedom is not hidden; it is simply obscured by habits the mind refuses to retire.
In these lines, Guru Tegh Bahadur Sahib breathes both realism and relief. There is no promise that the mind will not return to its old tricks — but there is the assurance that each breath is another chance to turn gently inward. The same mind that runs can rest. The same tongue that gossips can sing the Nam. The same heart that craves can remember it is already full.
So when old habits whisper sweetly tonight — when the body longs for one more taste of blame, or one more fear-drenched plan for tomorrow’s security — pause here. Whisper back: Who taught you this hunger, mind? Who told you freedom lives elsewhere?
Then, maybe, turn inward. Feel the pulse that never left you. Feel how near the One sits — not in far forests, not in tomorrow’s wealth — but here, where you are already enough.
May tonight be another small undoing of the mind’s old traps. May tonight be another soft homecoming to the freedom inside your very breath.
Listen to this sabad being recited by Dr. Onkar Singh (Brantford)
Bhai Kamaljeet Singh
Bhai Sukhwinder Singh Javadhi
Bhai Tarlochan Singh
Bhai Harpreet Singh Batale Wale