Original Vision: On the Choice of a New Life

Printed in the  Fall 2020  issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Macrae, Janet"Original Vision: On the Choice of a New Life" Quest 108:4, pg 15-18

By Janet Macrae

Theosophical Society - Janet Macrae is a coeditor of Suggestions for Thought by Florence Nightingale (University of Pennsylvania Press) and the author of Nursing as a Spiritual Practice: A Contemporary Application of Florence Nightingale’s Views (Springer). Her article “Florence Nightingale’s Scientific Spirituality” appeared in Quest, winter 2020.Many years ago, in a seminar at the New York Theosophical Society, a woman told about a spontaneous memory from the time before she was born. “I saw a vision of what I had to accomplish and what the difficulties would be. I remember saying, ‘Yes, I agree to this.’”

What prompted her to share this experience was the seminar topic: “Plato’s Myths and Metaphors,” given by Dr. Renee Weber. In the myth of Er, at the end of The Republic, Plato explained how a new life is a product of both chance and self-determination. In this story, Er, a soldier who had returned from the realm of the dead, reported that every individual in the group he observed was required to draw a lot. Then, one by one, each chose a life from among many lying on the ground. There were many more choices than individuals present, so that even the last one could probably have found a satisfactory life.

From Plato’s perspective, a satisfactory life is one that will make the soul more just. As the choice is critical for the soul’s development, it must not be made in an impulsive manner. It is essential to have a knowledge of one’s character and how it could be influenced by various experiences. An individual should know

what the effect of beauty is when combined with poverty or wealth in a particular soul, and what are the good and evil consequences of noble and humble birth, of private and public station, of strength and weakness, of cleverness and dullness, and of all the natural and acquired gifts of the soul, and the operation of them when conjoined; he will then look at the nature of the soul, and from the consideration of all these qualities he will be able to determine which is the better and which is the worse. (Plato, 300)

After choosing their lives, the group of souls walked in a scorching heat through the plain of Forgetfulness. Arriving at the river Lethe (“Oblivion”), they were all obliged to drink a certain quantity of the water. “And each one as he drank forgot all things” (Plato, 302). But those who were not saved by wisdom drank more than was necessary.

Some striking similarities to Plato’s account can be found in the work of Dr. Michael Newton, a psychotherapist and master hypnotist who has devoted his career to the study of the period between death and rebirth. Newton’s hypnotized subjects remember seeing samples of lives in a location resembling a multidimensional movie theater. These viewings only occur, however, after much consultation with guides and members of peer groups, during which they analyze the successes and mistakes of the past as well as their desires for the future. The critical issue is the growth of the soul: what things need to be learned and what kind of life will provide the best opportunities to learn them. When asked under hypnosis about his reaction to the movie experience, one individual replied:

Oh, it’s stimulating—that’s for sure—but we can’t frolic around, because there are serious decisions to be made for the next life. I’ll have to accept the consequences for any mistakes in my choices . . . if I am not able to handle a life well. (Newton, 212)

Each life thus has a blueprint or overall plan, and we are ultimately evaluated on the degree to which we fulfill it. Fortunately, the hypnotized subjects remember various “coaching sessions.” Certain thoughts are impressed on their minds as clues to help them complete their next incarnations successfully. At this point the remembrance of former lives is not encouraged, for the new incarnation must be approached freely, as much as possible, as a fresh start. Far more important is the memory of the original vision, the spiritual blueprint for the coming life.

The work of the “sleeping prophet” Edgar Cayce (1877–1945) is also consistent with the story of Er, for he believed that each incarnation is consciously chosen for a particular purpose. Cayce is best known for his medical readings. Putting himself in a deep hypnotic trance, he was able to accurately diagnose and prescribe natural remedies for the illnesses of people whom he had never met. All he needed to know was the individual’s name. Less well known are Cayce’s life readings, in which he elaborated upon the individual’s inner conflicts, many of which had their origins in previous lifetimes.

In Many Mansions, a detailed study of Cayce’s life readings, Dr. Gina Cerminara clarified the difference between the original plan of the soul, or the superconscious life goal, and the consciously planned goals of the personal self.

The superconscious life goal, or spiritual intent, is the basic purpose for which the soul has taken incarnation. It is the central and unifying principle of a life, and thus it never changes. The original plan of the soul can include learning spiritual lessons, strengthening finer qualities such as wisdom and compassion, and neutralizing undesirable characteristics carried over from former lives.

The consciously formed life goals of a personality can include  pursuing a higher education, developing talents and skills, raising a family, having a successful career, and being respected in one’s community. These, of course, can change as life progresses. Cerminara wrote that if the personality can become aware of the purpose for which it took incarnation and can consciously make its life goals identical to or in harmony with these superconscious goals, then progress can be made more quickly and with less struggle.

It is therefore up to the personal self to try to remember the vision of the inner spirit. But Plato wrote that unless we are saved by wisdom we will drink too much from the river of Lethe. Being saved by wisdom involves being attuned to the intuition, the source of our most profound dreams. Intuition speaks through synchronistic events, through subtle hunches and feelings of recognition, through spontaneous symbolic images that arise sometimes in meditation and contemplative prayer, or through our daydreams in moments of stillness. As Virginia Woolf observed: “It is in our idleness, in our dreams, that the submerged truth sometimes comes to the top” (Woolf, 31–32).

 The life of Florence Nightingale (1820–1910) is an interesting example of one in which the personal goals were brought into alignment with the spiritual vision—but not without conflict. Nightingale is best known as the “Lady with the Lamp,” the superintendent of nurses for the British army during the Crimean War (1855–56). She was a brilliant administrator and a pioneer in using statistics to implement public health reforms. Born into a life of wealth and privilege, Nightingale received a classical education from her father, making her one of the most highly educated women of her day.

As an adolescent, she experienced a sudden inner “knowing” that God had called her to a life of service. It was a brief shift of consciousness to a higher level, in which she apprehended her deep inner purpose. During this experience she was given no details; the specific mission would be her personal choice.

 Although only the soul and its advisors can know the actual spiritual plan for its incarnation, we can uncover clues in Nightingale’s writings and in various biographies. Her original vision might well have included:

  1. Using her great intelligence and administrative abilities for the betterment of humanity rather than for personal gain.
  2. Learning patience and tolerance towards individuals who did not share her progressive vision, particularly those who tried to obstruct her reform efforts.
  3. Learning to work at a task for its own sake rather than for recognition or specific results. In her copy of The Song Celestial, Edwin Arnold’s translation of the Bhagavad Gita, Nightingale marked the following passage:

              

            Abstaining from rewardment in the work,
            While yet one doeth it full faithfully,
            Saying “’Tis right to do!”—that is true act
            and abstinence! (quoted in Cook 2:242)

Since childhood, Nightingale was drawn to nursing and public health and was determined to make these interests the focus of her life. She was well aware of the difficulties. As a woman she could not hold public office to influence health policies; moreover, nursing in the public hospitals of the time was considered a disreputable occupation. But she moved forward to actualize her personal goals. These included:

  1. Improving her mind through a study of comparative religion, philosophy, and statistical science. Two of her main interests were Plato’s dialogues and the writings of the medieval mystics. Thus she was familiar with the myth of Er.
  2. Becoming a nurse; helping to establish nursing as a respected occupation; developing nursing principles.
  3. Working to improve government policies regarding public health, especially hospital design and sanitation, through her personal contacts and influence.

Nightingale’s personal goals did not include engaging in the lifestyle of a typical upper-class Victorian woman, for she felt that only through working in nursing and public health could she actualize her spiritual vision. Unfortunately, this created a serious conflict with her mother and older sister, whose plans for her were quite different: a good marriage, an elegant home, a family, relationships in high society. Although history tells us that Nightingale was true to her vision, her peace of mind was disturbed by feelings of guilt for disappointing those she loved.

In the myth of Er, Plato explained that conflict is not necessarily detrimental, because it can strengthen the soul. He described an individual who had lived in a peaceful, well-ordered state; his virtue, however, was only a matter of conformity, and he had not internalized any strong values. Left to himself, he made an impulsive choice for a new life. Er reported that those who had been “schooled by trial” and who had developed a sound philosophy were the most careful in choosing their lives. Perhaps Florence Nightingale chose to be a woman in Victorian times to strengthen her character and her inner resolve.

Dr. Victor Frankl, who developed logotherapy (meaning-centered psychotherapy), wrote that “everyone has his own specific vocation or mission in life to carry out a concrete assignment which demands fulfillment. Therein he cannot be replaced, nor can his life be repeated” (Frankl, 113). Struggle and conflict are not unhealthy and may even be necessary for the fulfillment of one’s purpose. What is unhealthy is an existential vacuum or lack of meaning, characterized by an inner emptiness and boredom. Indeed, Nightingale might very well have suffered from this if her personal plan had deviated from her spiritual vision.

Aligning or synchronizing one’s personal plan with the spiritual vision allows one to tap into spiritual resources, such as moral strength, resilience, wisdom, and courage. Frankl, for example, felt that knowing his life’s purpose, which was to develop his method of logotherapy and write his book about it, gave him the strength to survive three years in Nazi concentration camps. Knowing her life’s purpose gave Nightingale the strength to devote her life to the public good in spite of a debilitating chronic brucellosis infection.

The reports of modern individuals who, like Er, traveled to the realms of the dead and returned, often emphasize a sense of purpose. For example, one individual told near-death expert Raymond Moody:

I say God surely was good to me, because I was dead, and he let the doctors bring me back, for a purpose. The purpose was to help my wife, I think, because she had a drinking problem, and I know that she just couldn’t have made it without me. She is better now, though, and I really think it had a lot to do with what I went through. (Moody, 73)

Kenneth Ring and Evelyn Valarino, in Lessons from the Light, write that a sense of purpose is either clarified during the near-death experience or the individuals express a deep desire to discover their mission and actualize it. Fortunately, most people do not have to go through the trauma of a near-death experience to remember the deeper purpose of their lives. According to these researchers, there is accumulating evidence, based on informal questionnaires and interviews, that studying the reports of the near-death experiencers can have a profound effect on an individual’s attitudes and behavior. The following statement came from a Swiss woman with a university degree who read Moody’s Life after Life:

I don’t want to sound pompous, but it was a revelation to me. Not Moody’s comments or analysis, but the testimonies of the experiencers. I read, cried a lot and knew it was true! I was profoundly touched at a level other than the intellectual, rational one. The experiencers’ words went straight to my heart, my soul, the essence of my being—whatever you want to call it. I immediately knew it was true . . . I had the impression that this was a truth I had always known but had simply forgotten. (Ring and Valarino, 211)

As a renewed sense of purpose is characteristic of the near-death experiencers, perhaps a study of their reports could help us remember the original visions for our own lives. This could also be true with respect to a study of the memories of Newton’s hypnotized subjects. Part of the power of these testimonies is that they come from modern individuals with whom we can identify. May we all benefit from the profound inner experiences they have so generously shared.

Sources

Cerminara, Gina. Many Mansions. New York: William Sloane, 1950.

Cook, Sir Edward. The Life of Florence Nightingale. 2 vols. London: Macmillan, 1913.

Dossey, Barbara. Florence Nightingale: Mystic, Visionary, Healer. Springhouse, Pa.: Springhouse, 2000.

Frankl, Viktor. Man’s Search for Meaning. Boston: Beacon, 1959.

Plato. The Republic. Translated by Benjamin Jowett. New York: Clydesdale, 2018 [1892].

Moody, Raymond. Life after Life. New York: HarperCollins, 2001 [1975].

Newton, Michael. Journey of Souls. Woodbury, Minn.: Llewellyn, 1994.

Ring, Kenneth, and Evelyn Valarino. Lessons from the Light. Needham, Mass.: Moment Point Press, 1998.

Woolf, Virginia. A Room of One’s Own. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1929.

Janet Macrae is a coeditor of Suggestions for Thought by Florence Nightingale (University of Pennsylvania Press) and the author of Nursing as a Spiritual Practice: A Contemporary Application of Florence Nightingale’s Views(Springer). Her article “Florence Nightingale’s Scientific Spirituality” appeared in Quest, winter 2020.