Quest Magazine

By Kevin Hendryx

There is something magical and sinister about repetitive siblings. Mythology is very strong on them. The Beatles inspire terror, awe, and reverence.

—Jonathan Miller

Linked indissolubly with the 1960s, split for thirty years, John Lennon dead twenty years—and still the Beatles remain timeless. Everything the Former Fabs do is faithfully followed by admirers, enemies, and the press alike, and their legacy as musicians, composers, and, yes, philosophers survives and is channeled by the many who have been transformed by their spirit. We need look no further than Berlin 1989, when their songs played as the Wall came down—a more bizarre parallel to the Rescue of Pepperland could not be scripted—to see that truly "nothing is Beatleproof."

John Lennon sang, "I don't believe in Tarot" (among other things) in his song "God" in 1970, shortly after the breakup of the Beatles. As with many of Lennon's pronouncements, he may have meant it at the time, during his embittered "primal scream" phase, but would not necessarily continue to believe so. By the end of John's life, he and Yoko Ono were again earnestly consulting the I Ching and having their fortunes told (and their pockets picked by charlatans) like the unrepentant flower children they were. The Beatles are still seen as the totemic icons of the 1960s, emissaries from the Age of Aquarius, whose coming coincided with a reawakened interest in the occult and mysticism. One of the many practices that suddenly gained new adherents was that of reading clues to one's personality and destiny from cards randomly selected from the Tarot deck.

The Tarot, the ancient precursor of today's playing cards, deals in archetypes and symbolism, especially in the twenty-two trump cards of the major arcana ("greater secrets"). All four Beatles, in varying degrees of enthusiasm or gullibility, became absorbed in the spiritual questing that marked the unfolding of the 1960s, and it is thus all the more fascinating to note how uncannily each member of the group, even the band as a unit, is mirrored by a particular major arcana card. As the Beatles recede as historical figures and enter the realm of myth and legend, it is appropriate to examine how they fit into the allegorical context of the Tarot.

Take what follows as an excursion into the collective unconscious or an exercise in voodoo musicology, whichever you like. As Pindar wrote, "In heaven, to learn is to see; on earth, to remember." Let us now try to remember a time when mortal minstrels dared conjure visions of heaven.

Ringo's card: The Star

The card chosen for Richard Starkey (Ringo Starr) is number 17 in the sequence of the major arcana: the Star. More than just a serendipitous pun, this card represents hope, trust, and optimism. Its positive aspects include bright prospects, opportunity, and satisfaction. Anchored in the sky and cosmos, it is the first card to complement and complete the gifts of the Magician (see below). Seven smaller stars are depicted in the card's illustration, one for each note in the music of the spheres, while a young girl under a single radiant star pours the purifying water of life into the consciousness of humanity. The Star is one of the happiest cards, acting as a check on the influences of ill-omened cards around it.

The inversion, or reversal, of the Star card brings negative effects into play. These include bad luck, pessimism, disappointment, imbalance, lack of opportunity, and hope unfulfilled.

Interpretation: Ringo brought good-natured cheer and down-to-earth sensibilities to the Beatles. He was the only one of the four who came from a truly poor, working-class environment and never strayed far from his roots. At the same time, he proved capable of intuitive reasoning, astute insights, and droll malapropisms that frequently amazed and delighted his bandmates. Ringo harbored the fewest resentments and made the fewest enemies. An only child, even after the split he continued to refer to the others as "my three brothers." He provided a center for the others to rally around, musically and spiritually, and as the drummer he was especially important to John, the shaman. In public or private moments captured on film, John often stayed close to Ringo and looked to him for support or reassurance. The feeling was mutual, as Ringo later recalled: "He [John] knows me better than anybody else in the world--better than the other two." Ringo typified the ability of common persons to rise above their origins and achieve greatness. The reversed meanings of the Star, on the other hand, aptly sum up the failings of Ringo's solo career, as Beatle scholars will recognize.

Archetypal Song: "With a Little Help from My Friends," written specifically for Ringo by John and Paul, cemented his public persona as "history's most charming bit player." It features his best Beatles vocal and firmly projects all the exuberance and faith of his Tarot card.

George's card: The Hermit

Next we turn over a card for George Harrison: the Hermit, the ninth card, representing both a seeker and teacher. Positive attributes of the Hermit include knowledge, deliberation, thriftiness, caution, silent counsel, and inner wisdom. The Hermit wears the hood and scourge of a penitent and carries the walking stick of a pilgrim. He stands on a summit and holds the lantern of truth, illuminating the path to heaven. Through his searching, the way is revealed to others. Selfless but also somewhat distant, the Hermit realizes that few are ready for the truth; his light can also blind, and secret knowledge must be hidden. Socrates' dictum "I know that I know nothing" could be the mantra of this reclusive card.

Negative aspects of the Hermit revolve around imprudence. A Hermit who loses his way in the dark shows hastiness, immaturity, and a lack of patience. He withdraws from his responsibilities toward others. He becomes a follower rather than a leader, and attainment yields to hollow pursuits.

Interpretation: George contributed a spiritual imperative to the Beatles' music, assuming a teacher's role in a group in which he was the junior member in age. He was the first to consider the potential of a life and purpose beyond material rewards and Western consumerism. Originally typecast as the almost invisible lead guitarist with a miserly streak, the "quiet Beatle" metamorphosed into a leading spokesman for Indian music and philosophy. As the Hermit, he is generally able to look back at the road his life has followed with tolerance and understanding, even a trace of amusement; but his eyes are fixed on a goal that still lies ahead.

Archetypal Song: "Within You without You" is George's most fully realized blending of classical Indian raga and Western pop idioms. "World music" is now so taken for granted that few remember, in the hot glare of the Beatles' joint fame, to credit George as being one of its earliest pioneers. Quoting in equal parts from the Bible and Hindu scriptures, this song reveals profound insights but ends in the sardonic laughter of those who listen but do not hear. It is a joke the Hermit is all too familiar with: "Of what use are words of wisdom to the man who is unwise? Of what use is a lamp to a man who is blind?" (Dhammapada).

Paul's card: The Fool

Our third Beatle, Paul McCartney, is represented by the Fool, a card denoting pure creativity, enthusiasm, theatricality, unpredictability, and inexperience seeking self-expression. The only unnumbered card in the Tarot deck, the Fool stands apart from the normal sequence, unconfined by boundaries. In part, this difference is supremely liberating; however, having a value of zero means the Fool counts for nothing by himself. He requires the addition of other cards, which are then modified by his influence. The Fool typically wears a gaudy disguise--his appearance is designed to deceive--thus he also represents concealed wisdom (as in "The Fool on the Hill").

There is an instinctive affinity with the Magician card (see below)--the sorcerer's apprentice and all that. The two are linked paths to the same sephira on the Tree of Life in the Hebrew Kabbalah, and their union produces original inspiration that is unmatched in the Tarot.

All is not bliss for the Fool. A reversed card indicates folly. Bad decisions are likely, as is negligence, frivolity, rashness, indiscipline, a tendency to show off, unrestrained excess, thoughtlessness, and a halting in life's progress. As the Dhammapada says: "How long is the night to the watchman; how long is the road to the weary; how long is the wandering of lives ending in death for the fool who cannot find the path!"

Interpretation: Paul needed the Beatles more than the others did. He thrived in the identity and framework provided by the group and flourished in the public acclaim of the concert stage. The Fool's creativity made Paul the most natural musician, albeit wholly untrained, in the band. His innate Celtic romanticism revealed itself in a love of story-telling songs (as opposed to sharing personal experiences) and in a love of sounds for their own sake. More than the others, he writes from the heart, not the mind, and his imagery is more frequently drawn from nature. He is pastoral and reflective whereas George could be acerbic and admonitory, or John would take refuge in the surreal and grotesque. In his songs, Beatles music best expresses the pure joy of living.

There is another level of meaning, too. The Fool may be a comedian, but comedians are often the loneliest of people, seeing a joke that no one else can share. The remorseless opposite mask to comedy is tragedy. Paul's life has been full of rewards and achievement, but the early death of his mother, the murder of his old writing partner, and the sad loss of his lifemate Linda were inconsolable blows.

Archetypal Song. "Penny Lane" shows the enthusiasm Paul gave to the group paired with his keen ear for songcrafting. Expansive whereas Lennon's comparable "Good Morning, Good Morning" is repressed and edgy, this nostalgic fairytale conjures up a fantastical Liverpool where even the everyday routines of ordinary people promise magic and delight. Baroque trumpets, piano glissandos, and ascending melodies whirl the listener out of mundane concerns; some experience akin to this must have been what caused Jung to write foretellingly, "Liverpool is the center of the Universe." Paul has never lost this knack for self-referential whimsy; a recent song such as "Flaming Pie" reminds us that, in nursery rhyme lore, it is "Simple" Simon, the Fool, who also encounters a "pieman."

John's card: The Magician

The Magician is the first card in the major arcana, so it is fittingly assigned to John Lennon, the founder and titular leader of the group. The Magician (also called the Sorcerer, the Juggler, or the Minstrel) is the card of human consciousness seeking to manifest its latent divinity. It is identified with the power to bring things into being, and with originality, dexterity, spontaneity, self-reliance, resolution, imagination, and transformation. The Magician is portrayed with his arms reaching to both sky and earth ("my Mother was of the Sky / my Father was of the Earth." a curious inversion of the standard mythic references, but one perhaps more personally meaningful), suggesting the Hermetic adage "as above, so below" and emphasizing the essential unity of all things ("but I am of the Universe").

The four symbols of the lesser arcana (cups, pentacles, batons, and swords) are displayed, an allusion to the four elements and the four letters of the unpronounceable name of God, the Tetragrammaton.

Just as creativity and power can be misused, there are less favorable aspects to the Magician. Typically, they are weakness of will, insecurity, delay, lack of interest, intrigue, deceit, and skills applied to destructive ends.

Interpretation: John was the wizard of the Beatles, the voyager to the otherworld who returned with visions and the power to energize those around him. He brought a restless creativity to the band and an Irish love of language and wordplay. Like many minstrels, he often sang in riddles, lest sacred mysteries be revealed to the unready or profane. The "fire in the head" of the ancient bards (as William Butler Yeats called it) was his special gift and burden. Because he was never long content with the way things were, he never ceased to challenge us to be better than we are. John sang of imagining possibilities. "Reality," he once said, "leaves a lot to the imagination." Without his initial dream, the Beatles would have never existed.

Archetypal Song. "Tomorrow Never Knows" is his most mind-bending and discorporeal song. The lyrics were borrowed freely from sacred texts such as the Tibetan Book of the Dead (Bardo Thodol), a collection of instructions to help departed souls navigate the afterlife state and escape the cycle of death and rebirth ("Go far into the Void and there rest in quietness" from the Tao Te Ching). John chants of ego dissolution and joining with the Infinite, wafting through a disorienting maelstrom of soundscapes, yet always anchored by Ringo's trance-inducing drum patterns. It was for precisely this reason that tribal shamans formed close attachments to their percussionists.

The evolution of the Beatles, and John in particular, was nothing short of astonishing, as this song, recorded just four years after their first single, makes clear. It was a long way from "Love, love me do / You know I love you" to "Turn off your mind, relax, and float downstream / It is not dying; it is not dying."

The Beatles' card, all together: The World

The World is the twenty-first and final card in the major arcana and the culmination of all the others. The World signifies attainment, completion, success, triumph in undertakings, rewards of hard work, admiration of others, an aerial voyage, and apotheosis. The card shows a young woman encircled in a wreath forming a mandorla, or vesica piscis--nature surrounded by the divine, the worlds of spirit and matter meeting. She has a leg raised in a dance, evoking Shiva Nataraja's dance of creation, and she holds a wand in each hand to illustrate the opposing principles of duality (yin/yang, light/dark, male/female). In the corners of the card are the tetramorphs, the four allegorical evangelist figures from Ezekiel's vision and the Revelation of Saint John: a bull, a lion, an eagle, and an angel.

In its imperfect form, the meaning of this card is, simply, imperfection, lack of vision, disappointment, failure to finish what is started, and a refusal to recognize the meanings revealed in the preceding cards.

Interpretation: It is tempting to identify the overtly feminine nature of this card with the universal woman or girl who is the subject of so many unpersonified Beatle love songs--an inarticulate longing for a unity or completeness that transcends time. John, for one, acknowledged that many of his pre-Yoko songs were so directed, and even dedicated the later composition "Woman" to "the other half of the sky." The number four symbolizes wholeness and is commonly encountered in esoteric systems: four elements, four seasons, four cardinal virtues, four points of the compass, and so on. The Beatles were casually linked with this tradition from an early date, the epithet "Fabulous Foursome" coming into use in 1963. As the Pied Pipers of a generation, they might easily be identified with the four evangelists.

Together, the band members were magic, as perceptive writers noted. "Beatlemania was a misnomer. Beatles fans were not so much hysterical as spellbound. The Beatles' music was a form of sympathetic magic," said John Lahr. We will not see their like again; such an alchemical mixture is not casually distilled or easily imitated. As Celia Farber recently commented, "The Ur-Band. They cannot be measured in terms of greatness because they are the measure itself."

So were the Beatles together. Apart, something intangible was missing. The solo careers of the former Fabs, despite occasional stellar moments and a brief, poignant reunion in 1995, were marred by a haunting sense of anticlimax. Contemplating the sundered ring of their fellowship is ineffably sad, although this, too, may be a necessary lesson of the Great Mystery that has yet to be revealed.

Archetypal Song: "All You Need Is Love" is a hippie cliché to some, a rallying cry to others. It stands as the ultimate, timeless message of the Beatles, a song of healing for a wounded world. The group's performance of "All You Need Is Love" on a global television broadcast in June 1967 was perhaps their finest hour on the public stage. But as with any zenith, what followed could only be a descent. Cracks would develop that would finally shatter the band into pieces.

The End

Normally, of course, a Tarot reading is very different, but the important thing in this one is the Fab Four's relevance to metaphysical tradition and their legacy as lovable moptops turned psychedelicized gurus.

Some musicians are just entertainers and others are something more. Prophetically, Non nobis solum, sed toti mundo nati, "Not for ourselves alone, but for the whole world are we born," was the motto of the Liverpool Institute, boyhood school of the future Sir Paul. In a lazily atheist age, the Beatles are perhaps responsible for introducing more Westerners to a forgotten spiritual heritage than any mainstream organized religion. Sometimes deliberately, sometimes by happy accident, they put out messages that echoed the Great Teachers. "Let it be," sang Paul, paraphrasing both a central tenet of Buddhism and the words spoken by the Virgin Mary at the Annunciation. Likewise, with the first line of "I Am the Walrus" John reached millions of people who never heard of Gurdjieff: "I am Thou, Thou art I, He is Ours, We both are His. So may all be for our Neighbor." And George's "The Inner Light" is virtually chapter 47 of Lao Tsu's Tao Te Ching set to music.

Maybe the Tarot can help us think about the Beatles in a different light, and reexamine their legacy in a context removed from the flip smugness of rock-crit journalese or hack pseudobiography. We remember that the movement we need is on our shoulders. "Think for yourself," George warned in 1965, "I won't be there with you." But the Beatles left signs along the road. They challenged their listeners to open their minds as well as move their feet. They preached a sermon on the text "You don't need preachers." You need love. And compassion. And truth. And a sense of humor doesn't hurt. And then the rest is, well, it's never easy--but you can imagine it to be.

"If the Beatles or the Sixties had a message, it was to learn to swim. Period. And once you learn to swim, swim. You make your own dream. That's the Beatles' story, isn't it?"

—John Lennon, 1980

VOLUME 95, NUMBER 3

CONTENTS

How Does Your Garden Grow

By Betty Bland

To Be is To Be Responsible
By Joy Mills

Theosophy's Most Holy and Important Mission  
By John Algeo

A Brave Declaration of Principles:The Golden Steps in the Life of HPB
By David Bruce

The Love of God: What If?
By Richard Darnell

Ethics and Responsibility: Down through the Ages and Throughout Our Lives
Robert D. Trice

By Joy Mills

Originally printed in the MAY - JUNE 2007 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Mills, Joy. "To Be Is To Be Responsible." Quest  95.3 (MAY-JUNE 2007): 87-91, 99.

Let us begin with responsibility; not an easy idea to examine, for generally we do not like the word or its connotation. And to suggest that simply to be, is to be responsible seems to imply a greater burden than we may care to shoulder. Looking out upon the world and the crises facing humanity today, surely we are not responsible for the conditions we see all about us. War, poverty, ecological disasters, hatred, fear, greed: the litany of woes seems endless and has been recited so often that we have become nearly inured to its message. And the thought that you and I might be personally responsible for even a fraction, let alone all of the problems confronting the world today may seem beyond the limits of reason.

Before proceeding further, let us consider a number of words and ideas related to the notion of responsibility. For example, rather than accepting or denying responsibility for any of the problems just enumerated, I might ask instead: How do I respond to these woes? What is my response and at what level of my being am I responding; from the heart, from the head, or from some deeper part of my being? What is it to be responsive? And what is my ability to respond?

These are not simple questions, particularly if I view the universe as an interdependent whole and see all humankind as truly interrelated, and an integral part of the web of life. From such a perspective, pulling on any strand of that vast web will cause the entire web to vibrate, to respond. In this sense, responsiveness is an inherent characteristic of existence. To respond is to acknowledge responsibility. The degree or extent of that response will determine the degree of responsibility.

In a talk I once gave, I suggested that within ourselves, we each harbor the seeds of anger, greed, hatred, and so on, and that the correlates of these seeds affect the world around us. During the discussion that followed, an audience member asked whether I thought, or implied, that as individuals either one of us was responsible for a recently occurring earthquake. This is a difficult question to answer, when one considers the matter deeply.

True, as one individual I did not cause the earthquake, but the question remains to what extent do I, as an integral part of life everywhere, contribute—through my thoughts or feelings—to disturbances on the planet? Today, one might ask to what extent am I responsible for the tsunami which so devastated parts of Southeast Asia, India, and Sri Lanka. Certainly the responsiveness of people around the world attests to a feeling akin to a sense of inner responsibility, even for natural disasters.

At the time, there was less evidence for, or at least less discussion of, the interconnectedness of all things than there is today. However, one of the most exciting books to appear recently is by the philosopher scientist Ervin Laszlo, who was a member of the Editorial Board of the journal, Main Currents in Modern Thought, the publication initiated by Fritz Kunz and edited at one point by Emily Sellon. In Science and the Akashic Field, Laszlo begins with a definition of akasha as "the womb from which everything we perceive with our senses has emerged and into which everything will ultimately re-descend," and examines in detail what he terms "the puzzle-filled world of the mainstream sciences" and then proposes that the "established concept" can only be "transcended" by "a new/old concept: the informed universe, rooted in the rediscovery of ancient tradition's Akashic Field as the vacuum-based holofield" . To quote Laszlo further:

The informed universe is a universe where the A-field [his term for the Akashic field] is a real and significant element. . . .All that happens in one place happens also in other places; all that happened at one time happens also at all times after that. . . .All things are global, indeed cosmic, for the memory of all things extends to all places and all times. . . .the truly remarkable feature of the informed universe . . . is that everything that happens in it affects —"informs"—everything else... (p.16)

Students of Theosophy may be reminded of a statement in the first letter of one of HPB's teachers, the Mahatma K. H., to A. P. Sinnett in which the Englishman is told that "without a thorough knowledge of Akas, its combinations and properties, how can Science hope to account for" the many phenomena that caused Sinnett to inquire about their source. How many of us have sought to understand the full meaning of akasha, even to the extent that HPB discusses it in The Secret Doctrine? If the age-old concept of akasha is being invoked today by so well-known and respected a scholar as Dr. Ervin Laszlo as a possible explanation for many, if not all, of the so-called anomalies in the field of science, then it certainly behooves us to recognize that such a universal field exists as the basis for the interconnectedness of all things. Akasha is not only the very fabric of the universe, but it is also a living, dynamic information or informed fabric to which we apply the term consciousness.

In citing the accumulation of evidence for what Laszlo refers to as the "nonlocal connection between the brains and minds of people," Laszlo quotes the well-known physicists David Bohm and Henry Stapp. Bohm wrote in Wholeness and the Implicate Order, "Deep down the consciousness of mankind is one. This is a virtual certainty because even in the vacuum matter is one; and if we don't see this it's because we are blinding ourselves to it".

Next, Laszlo quotes from an article written by Stapp two decades after Bohm titled "Quantum Physics and the Physicist's View of Nature," "The new physics presents prima facie evidence that our human thoughts are linked to nature by nonlocal connections: what a person chooses to do in one region seems immediately to affect what is true elsewhere in the universe. This nonlocal aspect can be understood by conceiving the universe to be not a collection of tiny bits of matter, but rather a growing compendium of 'bits of information.'"

Finally, Laszlo concludes, "The information field that links quanta and galaxies in the physical universe and cells and organs in the biosphere also links the brains and minds of humans in the sociosphere" (p?). And, I would certainly add, the same information field—akasha—links the physical universe, the biosphere, and the sociosphere, so that nothing in any domain of existence stands apart from anything, for all is rooted in consciousness.

Having begun rather in the middle of our exploration of being and responsibility, let us now return to the beginning. It is my thesis that the two terms, being and responsibility, contain the essential message of the theosophical worldview and constitute the central theme and thrust of H. P. Blavatsky's work, The Secret Doctrine, as well as her spiritual guidebook, The Voice of the Silence. For the human entity, to be is to be responsible. Being is responsibility, since to be human at all implies choice and choice entails responsibility for the consequences of one's choices. If indeed we live in a universe, which is also a holo-verse, an in-formed as well as an informed universe, in which every part reveals the presence of the whole, we are not only self-responsible by the very nature of our being, but "everyself-responsible." Now let us set the stage for an understanding of these statements.

H. P. Blavatsky is reported to have told her students (as recorded in the notes of one of those students, Commander Robert Bowen, and so often called the "Bowen Notes"), "...existence is ONE THING, not any collection of things linked together. . . .The Atom, the Man, the God are each separately, as well as all collectively, Absolute Being in their last analysis, that is their REAL INDIVIDUALITY. It is this idea which must be held always in the background of the mind to form the basis for every conception that arises from the study of the SD".

Emphasizing this concept still further, HPB added, "...It is clear that this fundamental ONE EXISTENCE, or Absolute Being, must be the REALITY in every form there is." The universe is indeed a holograph or holofield, to use Laszlo's term, in which each part reveals the presence of all. Further, the theosophical worldview recognizes that from this primary fact of one existence present in every existent thing there arises an ethic at once challenging and glorious, the ethic of oneness which is compassion or love. The informed universe is one rooted in compassion, and that constitutes the responsibility of being.

Between being and responsibility is a link which we may call becoming, the process that involves us and all life in growth. As The Secret Doctrine postulates, the very process of manifestation comes about through an interior polarization within the One and such a polarization, giving rise to the poles we call Spirit and Matter, brings into play that which links them, the dynamic or dynamism which makes possible growth, development, and the continual process of becoming. This, in brief, recapitulates the Three Fundamental Propositions on which The Secret Doctrine is based. Stated in terms of our human experience: we are, which is Be-ness, our undivided and essentially inexpressible be-ing; we are always in process, Be-coming; and linking our Be-ness and our Be-coming is the journey, which HPB calls "the obligatory pilgrimage through the cycle of incarnation or necessity." And that journey, says HPB, is dependent upon "self-induced and self-devised effort," with no special privileges or gifts save those we win for ourselves. It is a journey in becoming ever more responsive to all of life, awakening at every step a greater sensitivity to respond. As our ability to respond deepens and widens, so our awareness of our respons-ability toward all that exists grows ever stronger.

Though I may not have caused an earthquake or a tsunami, my thoughts and feelings of anger, greed, prejudice, and self-concern must contribute in some way to so in-forming the universe as to have their effect in some measure across time and space. So also my thoughts and feelings of goodwill, love, compassion, and understanding must contribute to this informed universe of which I am an integral part.

To be is to be responsive; to be is to be responsible. Here is an undeniable truth for the earnest Theosophist. Consider, for example, the words of HPB in her Introduction to The Secret Doctrine, words written well over a century ago, but applicable to today's world:

The world of today, in its mad career towards the unknown—which it is too ready to confound with the unknowable—is rapidly progressing . . . on the material plane of spirituality. It has now become a vast arena—a true valley of discord and of eternal strife—a necropolis, wherein lie buried the highest and the most holy aspirations of our Spirit-Soul. (xxii)

Could any words be more descriptive of our contemporary world? HPB's call to disentomb those "holy aspirations" is as relevant today as it was at the end of the nineteenth century. Here lies the new/old frontier that defines the challenge before us: To recall humankind to a true knowledge of its origins and destiny, to awaken to our responsibility, to live a life wholly responsive to the world's pain as well as to its joy. Christmas Humphreys, the well-known Buddhist scholar and Theosophist, once suggested that the two major themes found in The Secret Doctrine concerned "the purpose or meaning of life" and "the living and intelligent law which pervades and controls the smallest part of it." These two themes, I propose, are from and encapsulated within the simple words: To be is to be responsible.

Drs. John Briggs and David Peat, in their perceptive analysis of contemporary scientific theories which are today producing a revolution in so many fields of thought, put the matter thus in their fascinating book, Looking Glass Universe: "Nature herself is a web of living energy, each object a mirror made up of strand upon strand of all that is".

The "intelligent law" to which Christmas Humphreys referred as undergirding the process, the law which is inherent in the "web of living energy," or the Akashic Field described by Ervin Laszlo, has been called by many names; karma, the law of equilibrium or adjustment, the law of harmony and the law of compassion. It is intelligent because the universe itself, rooted in consciousness, is consciousness.

Without becoming lost in the myriad details concerning the manifestation of a universe from or within the One Ultimate Reality which can never be fully known or described in the language of a limited intellect, we may focus our attention on the central principle of Being as Becoming. The Nobel Prize-winning theoretical chemist, Ilya Prigogine, has introduced into scientific thinking the concept known as dissipative structures, or far-from-equilibrium forms, as one of the fundamental factors governing nature. Without elaborating on this concept, we may note that Prigogine has postulated that the laws of dissipative structure give shape not only to space but also to time, and as one writer has therefore stated, these laws move the universe "from being to becoming." Drs. Briggs and Peat put this in a different way in their book, "For the dissipative structure, being is becoming". In effect, this agrees with Bohm's concept that in the implicate/explicate order, being is being since, according to that theory, being (or the implicate) is ever unfolding (becoming explicate). We cannot speak of being without implying becoming; to be is to grow, to change, to move, and we can no more deny the process of becoming than we can deny the fact of our being, which is central to the process.

HPB speaks of the fact that "...man was not 'created' the complete being he now is, however imperfect he still remains," (SD, II, p. 87), and then she reiterates a statement made in Volume I, "...there is a spiritual, a psychic, an intellectual, and an animal evolution." While this idea may seem strange to those unfamiliar with theosophical doctrine, it brings meaning and understanding to the customary scientific view of biological evolution as the sole process of becoming. HPB continues her explanation of human development or becoming by referring to "...the one absolute, ever acting and never erring law" by which the entire process is carried forward, that law to which we have already referred and which involves the "obligatory pilgrimage," in accordance, as HPB states, with the "absolute universality of the law of periodicity." In the human stage, a further factor is added as we know, the factor called "self-consciousness," which inevitably indicates the way in which we influence the process of becoming.

To recapitulate the Second Fundamental Proposition of The Secret Doctrine, in the human stage of development there is added to the "natural impulse" of the evolutionary drive which for aeons has governed the process of becoming, the key factor already spoken of as "self-induced and self-devised efforts (checked by its Karma)." (SD, I, p. 17) The Buddha, unconcerned with the whole spectrum of evolution, placed this factor of "self-induced...efforts" in the context of human life as the law of moral responsibility, and in the Pali canon of Buddhist thought the whole process by which the single life-force uses a succession of forms (Prigogine's "dissipative structures") is described as "karma in action." What we may call the "self" or pilgrim is, then, denominated "a discrete continuum of karmic impulse." [Need attribution of this quotation.]

It may be useful, at this juncture, to explore a bit further the term "pilgrim" as used in the esoteric tradition, a term that implies both being and becoming. In the context of The Secret Doctrine, the term is used to designate "our Monad (the two in one) during its cycle of incarnations. It is the only immortal and eternal principle in us, being an indivisible part of the integral whole—the Universal Spirit, from which it emanates, and into which it is absorbed at the end of the cycle." (SD I, p. 247) Consequently, HPB points out the difficulty of language in describing that which is and yet is always becoming:

Metaphysically speaking it is of course an absurdity to talk of the "development" of a Monad, or to say that it becomes "Man." . . . It stands to reason that a MONAD cannot either progress or develop, or even be affected by the changes of states it passes through. It is not of this world or plane, and may be compared only to an indestructible star of divine light and fire, thrown down onto our Earth as a plank of salvation for the personalities in which it indwells. It is for the latter to cling to it; and thus partaking of its divine nature, obtain immortality. Left to itself, the Monad will cling to no one; but like the "plank" be drifted away to another incarnation by the unresting current of evolution. (I, 174-5 fn.)

Further, HPB points out that for what we may term essential Being, the emergence or radiation of Be-ness as the ultimate, the Monad "...requires (a) a spiritual model, or prototype...; and (b) an intelligent consciousness to guide its evolution and progress..." (I, 247) The latter, the "intelligent consciousness," is supplied we are told by "the two middle principles," Manas and Kama, or the psychological ego in its nature as kama-manas, now truly the "pilgrim soul" engaged in a journey: "It is now no more a passage of the impersonal Monad through many and various forms of matter . . ..but a journey of the "pilgrim-soul" through various states of not only matter but self-consciousness and self-perception . ." (I, 175). So it is that Being emerges as Becoming. The external passage through forms is matched by the internal journey that confronts the awakening consciousness. This leads us to an awareness that the mighty rhythm of the vaster life of the universe is also our own inner rhythm. And it is through knowing our intimate and indissoluble link with the universe and all that it contains that we awaken to our responsibility in being and in becoming human.

Now it may seem that we have wandered far from our central thesis: that to be is to be responsible. Yet to understand this thesis, we need to recognize the process by which the journey of becoming, as indicated in the Third Fundamental Proposition, has taken place. We cannot really separate the three terms, Being, Becoming and Responsibility. Interlinked and interwoven, they are the three strands of a single thread met in the human as the "microcosm and miniature copy of the macrocosm . . . the living witness to . . . Universal Law and to the mode of its action." (SD, I, 274) For, declares The Secret Doctrine, ". . . all in Nature tends to become Man. All the impulses of the dual, centripetal and centrifugal Force are directed towards one point— MAN. . . . Man is the alpha and omega of objective creation" (II, 170). HPB further defines the man-stage or our human stage as the "Presence of the Unseen Principle throughout all nature, and the highest manifestation of it on Earth" (II, 555), adding in summation:

Man is certainly no special creation, and he is the product of Nature's gradual perfective work, like any other living unit on this Earth. But this is only with regard to the human tabernacle. That which lives and thinks in man and survives that frame, the masterpiece of evolution—is the "Eternal Pilgrim," the Protean differentiation in space and time of the One Absolute "unknowable." (II, 728)

To be, then, is to become; and for us as humans, to be is finally to be and become responsible. As Christmas Humphreys stated the case, ". . . who is at the heart of this intelligent, ever-living process . . . save man, save each one of us? Since each disturbance [or Harmony] starts from some particular point, it is clear that equilibrium and harmony can only be restored by the reconverging to that same point of all the forces which were set in motion from it. That point is each of us. Hence utter and complete responsibility of every man for all that each man thinks and wills and does".

Mahatma K. H., writing to A. P. Sinnett in the early days of the Theosophical Society, spoke of man as "the one free agent in Nature" quoting then these most beautiful lines:

Since there is hope for man only in man

I would not let one cry whom I could save!

And in the same letter, Mahatma K. H. wrote of "Humanity . . .the great Orphan . . .," stating very clearly our responsibility: ". . .it is the duty of every man who is capable of an unselfish impulse to do something, however little, for its welfare" (49).

So we return to a consideration of that great law of moral responsibility. Far from being a pawn in a game I cannot control, a plaything of fate, I come to recognize that I have a part, a significant part, in making things as they are; I contribute, in however small a measure, to every circumstance in which I, and indeed all of humanity, participate. Consequently I can unmake or remake the circumstances of life, when and as I choose to bring about change in myself. We have learned to call the law by the name of karma, but we may also call it the law of equilibrium or the law of harmony, for as HPB wrote: "The only decree of karma—an eternal and immutable decree—is absolute Harmony in the world of matter as it is in the world of Spirit." (SD, I, p. 643)

Yet the concept is far more than one of ethical causation, with its simplistic corollary that "it pays to be good." If karma (or compassion) is, as The Voice of the Silence proposes, the "law of laws," then all things, all events, and every particle of our present being is karma and karma-made.Seen from one point of view, karma appears as destiny; perceived from another angle, it is harmony disturbed and seeking its own natural rhythm, with the disturber "fated" to adjust or attune that which has been thrown into discord. From this perspective, karma is opportunity as well as challenge. Since there is but one existence and the universe itself is but one vast web of interconnecting and interrelated energies, the disturbance of any thread of the web must have repercussions throughout the entire fabric. How accurate was the vision of the nineteenth century poet, Francis Thompson:

All things by immortal power

Near or far,

Hiddenly

To each other linked are,

That thou canst not stir a flower

Without the troubling of a star.

As mentioned previously, that vision is being echoed today by so many contemporary scientists, including the late Dr. David Bohm. In his early classic physics text, Quantum Theory, Bohm wrote: "Quantum concepts imply that the world acts more like a single indivisible unit, in which even the "intrinsic" nature of each part (wave or particle) depends to some degree on its relationship to its surroundings".

Many other thinkers, scientists and philosophers support this realization of the interconnectedness of all life and all events, corroborating a view held by the ageless wisdom we now call theosophy. It is in light of this realization that we must accept responsibility for our every act, feeling, thought, word, and gesture. It is for us to work with that principle which HPB called, in The Key to Theosophy, the "Ultimate Law of the Universe," adding that it is the "source, origin and fount of all other laws which exist throughout Nature."

As I have suggested, if we are intent on calling this law karma, we must come to know that its true name is compassion, for as we read in The Voice of the Silence, "Compassion is no attribute. It is the Law of Laws, eternal Harmony . . .the light of everlasting right . . ."

So whether called harmony, compassion, or karma, each term defining some aspect of that universal law, the principle is the same and it encompasses more than can ever be expressed in words. It is a law that brings us both freedom and bondage: bondage, in that we are held within the web of life itself, and freedom, in that as human beings we have the magnificent power of choice over how we shall think and act in affecting the web at every moment.

The lasting and essential message of The Secret Doctrine, and of the theosophical worldview, lies in the emphasis given to our ultimate responsibility as human beings in a universe of order, purpose, and meaning. As I have said before, responsibility means the ability to respond, and as human beings, our response should no longer be automatic, reactionary, or instinctual. We must know what we are doing; we must take responsibility for our thoughts and feelings. How we respond is determined by the values we hold, by the principles to which we give allegiance and by what is truly important and significant for us.

In one of the most moving sections of The Secret Doctrine, "Cyclic Evolution and Karma," (Vol. I, pp 634 et seq) HPB enjoins the theosophical student to examine "the esoteric bearing of the Karmic Cycles upon Universal Ethics." For this, she says, we must "begin acting from within, instead of ever following impulses from without. . . " Then she continues:

. . . the only palliative to the evils of life is union and harmony—a Brotherhood IN ACTU, and altruism not simply in name. The suppression of one single bad cause will suppress not one, but a variety of bad effects. And if a Brotherhood or even a number of Brotherhoods may not be able to prevent nations from occasionally cutting each other's throats—still unity in thought and action, and philosophical research into the mysteries of being, will always prevent some. . . from creating additional causes in a world already so full of woe and evil. (I, 634 et seq)

To engage in that "philosophical research into the mysteries of being" of which HPB wrote is one of the greatest challenges before us. Inevitably such research leads and encourages us to recognize our most profound responsibility, to move, as the Buddhist philosophy would say, from the path of seeing to the path of practicing that which has been seen. With Henry David Thoreau, we seek to "place the imprint of our immortality upon every passing incident of daily life." That is to bring what we are, essential Being, fully into the process of Becoming, with full responsibility for every moment on every day.

Knowing who and what we are, and with our destiny in our own hands, we are at peace within and have the courage to face the challenges before us. We may say with Thoreau, "I know the enterprise is worthy; I know that things work out well. I have heard no bad news." Can we really say this in a world so full of violence, hatred, and injustice? Yes, if we respond with love, with compassion, with understanding and sympathy, knowing that to be is above all to be responsible for our responses to everything and everyone who shares with us in this vast enterprise we call life.

By Robert D. Trice

Originally printed in the MAY - JUNE 2007 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Trice, Robert D. "Ethics and Responsibility" Quest  95.3 (MAY-JUNE 2007): 106-107.

Main Entry: ethic
Pronunciation: e-thik
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English ethik, from Middle French ethique, from Latin ethice, from Greek ethike , from ethikos ,
Date: Fourteenth century

1 plural but singular or plural in construction: the discipline dealing with what is good and bad and with moral duty and obligation

2 a: a set of moral principles: a theory or system of moral values ~the present day materialistic ethic ~  ~an old fashion work ethic~ — often used in plural but sing. or plural in constr. ~an elaborate  ethics ~  ~Christian ethics~
  b: plural but singular or plural in construction: the principles of conduct governing an individual or a group ~professional ethics~
   c: a guiding philosophy
   d: a consciousness of moral importance ~forge a conservation ethic ~

3 plural: a set of moral issues or aspects (as rightness) ~debated the ethics  of human cloning~  Merriam-Webster

A sense of responsibility is the first indication of the soul. When we are young, the sense of responsibility expresses itself in the outer world: family, career, education, and friends mark out our circle of awareness and influence. At about seven years old, and as we grow older, a review takes place, impressed by the soul. Through the lens of the soul, we see our lives weighed against the ethics of the soul. Pythagoras understood this when he taught his students to review the day in reverse—by asking themselves "What have I done wrong today? What could I have done better today?"—and then visualizing the opposite of what was done wrong. This produces tension. Tension produces friction and friction creates fire which burns the dross within. We will always be given another chance, another opportunity, to correct ourselves and our ethics, to become "in sync" with the soul eventually. Remember this takes time, many lives, and patience. "Wherefore I say unto you, All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men: but the blasphemy [against] the [Holy] Ghost shall not be forgiven unto men" (Matthew 12:31).

Many great men and women have come to us to give us the rules and framework for living an upright, ethical, and responsible life. They assumed great responsibility and made great sacrifices, sometimes to the point of death, in order to bring the divine message from the higher planes.

The Buddha gave us the Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path:

Cease identifying with material things or desires.
Gain a proper sense of values.
Cease regarding possessions or even earthly existence as of major importance.

Follow the noble Eightfold Path of right relations, which begins with right values and ends with right happiness.

Patanjali, the author of the Yoga Sutras, is another example. He was a compiler of sacred teachings who wrote about the dangers of avarice. This avarice is a covetousness, or in reality, envy of characteristics and traits that you have not earned or worked for. Shakespeare wrote in Hamlet: "Assume a virtue, if you have it not."

Moses brought us the Ten Commandments. Regardless of its mired history (suspected by HPB to be from India), the Ten Commandments offer a basic framework of ethics that holds good to this very day. Later, Aristotle wrote on ethics, calling his work, Nicomachean Ethics, after his son Nicomachus, who probably edited it. He took Plato's view that all that is done by anyone is for the good ultimately.The Master Jesus gave us the Lord's Prayer:

Our Father who art in heaven,
Hallowed Be Thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy Will be done,
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our sins,
As we forgive those who sin against us.
Lead us not into temptation;
But deliver us from evil.

Prayer, selfless prayer, always works. Remember always that we are evolving and it takes time to be those ethics. Most of us are a mixture of good and bad and as such, we must forgive our shortcomings and continue to strive for the ethics that we already have (yes, already have). Our conscience always lets us know if, we should not have done something. This is the soul, dear brothers and sisters: silent but firm.

The great nations that have come and gone have also had as their foundation systems of ethics instilled by those who led them in their earliest days. The legend of King Arthur and Camelot is a good example of high aspiration for a new world based on ethics and responsibility.

We have a responsibility not to be a burden to the Masters that we serve. We can honor this responsibility by staying out of places and planes which are beyond the protection of ethical, common sense, and responsible behavior. They should be avoided at all cost, as St. Paul cautions us, "For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high [places]" (Ephesians 6:12). The phrase "high places" does not refer to altitude. The path is harrowing; and full of traps. Selfishness motivates errors. Always check your motive for it must be pure. We can always ask ourselves. "Is what I am doing serving the soul and humanity? Does what I am doing permit the Christ principle to enter into my life and therefore radiate to others?"

There is one more truth that should be imparted: the worst enemy that a Master has comes not from the forces of darkness, but from within his own camp. Innocent errors, personality problems, low desires (which should have been left behind long ago), and separatism all affect the group aura. When someone falls, a "hole" appears. This hole is taken advantage of by those who wish to see this happen and evil pours in. It takes much time, energy, and prayer to close up such a hole. Ethics and right responsibility prevents this from happening. It is important to foster fearlessness. Without fearlessness, paranoia and paralysis ensues. Fearlessness is the rock which all should seek.

In The Voice of Silence, HPB gives one of the most succinct descriptions of the path and its ethical requirements:

There is but one road to the Path; at its very end alone the "Voice of the Silence" can be heard. The ladder by which the candidate ascends is formed of rungs of suffering and pain; these can be silenced only by the voice of virtue. Woe, then, to thee, Disciple, if there is one single vice thou hast not left behind. For then the ladder will give way and overthrow thee; its foot rests in the deep mire of thy sins and failings, and ere thou canst attempt to cross this wide abyss of matter thou hast to lave thy feet in Waters of Renunciation. Beware lest thou should'st set a foot still soiled upon the ladder's lowest rung. Woe unto him who dares pollute one rung with miry feet. The foul and viscous mud will dry, become tenacious, then glue his feet unto the spot, and like a bird caught in the wily fowler's lime, he will be stayed from further progress. His vices will take shape and drag him down. His sins will raise their voices like as the jackal's laugh and sob after the sun goes down; his thoughts become an army, and bear him off a captive slave. (Stanza 69)