Toward a Grand Unified Theory of Synchronicity

Printed in the  Spring 2024 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Grasse, Ray "Toward a Grand Unified Theory of Synchronicity" Quest 112:2, pg 20-25

By Ray Grasse

This paper is the culmination of a decades-long process of investigation into Carl Jung’s theory of synchronicity, which first began with the writing and publication of my book The Waking Dream in 1996. That’s where I first hinted at the possibility of a broader metatheory that might help us better understand the significance of “meaningful coincidence,” not only as it occurs within our own lives but in the world at large. This essay lays out a tentative framework for that approach. 

Symbolist thinking regards the world as a kind of language, with the people, animals, and events representing elements of a living vocabulary.

The Waking Dream

                                                                                  

Ray GrasseIn 1952, psychologist Carl Jung published his seminal work Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle on a phenomenon he termed synchronicity, which can be simply defined as the experience of “meaningful coincidence,” as Jung put it. While most coincidences in our lives can be easily explained as nothing more than the result of pure chance, some coincidences are so striking that we’re compelled to wonder if there isn’t some deeper purpose or process at work underlying those events.

A famous example from Jung’s own files was that of the patient who described a dream she had involving an Egyptian scarab beetle. She’d been resistant in her therapy up to that point and firmly entrenched in a rigidly rationalistic mindset towards life. While listening to her describe that dream, Jung heard a tapping at the window of the therapy room. It turned out to be from a beetle—the closest approximation to a scarab in those northern Swiss latitudes. Taking this as a cue, he went and grabbed the beetle from the window and handed it to her, saying, “Here is your scarab.” The fact that this occurred at a key moment in the woman’s therapy struck Jung as significant, and her receiving it seemed to trigger a breakthrough in her rationalistic mindset.

Jung regarded experiences like these as eruptions of meaning—that is, significant events in our psychological or spiritual growth, issuing from that mysterious divide between our inner and outer worlds. Importantly, the appearance of the beetle wasn’t “causal”—that is, it didn’t happen directly because of anything either the woman or Jung said; rather, it arose simultaneously through a deeper connectedness of meaning. This was an example of what Jung called acausal connectedness.

Since its publication, Jung’s theory has spawned a virtual tsunami of books, articles, and media discussions, all attempting to understand its nature and importance. So how best shall we grasp what meaningful coincidence really says about our world? 

In Search of the Big Picture

I’d like to propose the possibility of a grand unified theory which aims to place synchronicity into its broader context. Just as some scientists have been searching for a unifying model that ties together the disparate forces of nature, so we can envision a theoretical framework that not only reveals fundamental insights into synchronicity’s workings but illumines its connection to various other concepts and symbolic systems. As we’ll see, this necessarily requires a more philosophical approach than a scientific one, as only the former can truly unravel the deeper mysteries of this phenomenon. By focusing our attention merely on isolated coincidences, I believe we run the risk of missing the true significance—and magnitude—of the synchronistic phenomenon.

As an analogy, I’d invite you to recall the classic tale of the five blind men and the elephant. Each of them examines a different part of this creature’s body, as a result obtaining a completely different sense of what the animal is like. For instance, the man feeling only the elephant’s tail naturally concludes that this creature is similar to a snake or perhaps a length of rope; but he obviously has a woefully incomplete picture of what the whole elephant is like. Because his perspective is so narrow, he misses the full reality.

I’d suggest that trying to understand synchronicity solely by focusing on isolated coincidences is akin to the predicament of the blind man who examines only one part of the elephant. By limiting our focus strictly on individual instances of synchronicity, we’re missing the broader worldview of which coincidences are just a part.

In short, understanding the true significance of synchronicity requires nothing less than a dramatically different cosmology than we are generally familiar with in our modern materialistic culture.

But what exactly is that “dramatically different cosmology”?

 

The Symbolist Worldview

This is what I (and certain other colleagues, like John Anthony West) have called the “symbolist” worldview. This way of thinking regards the cosmos as akin to a great dream—and, like our own dreams, written in the language of symbols. “The symbolist standpoint considers life to be a living book of symbols, a sacred text that can be decoded” (Grasse, 6). The manifest world mirrors an underlying consciousness, much in the same way that our nightly dreams reflect the workings of our own consciousness, but on a vastly different scale. The world is not only suffused with mind, it’s saturated with meaning. In The Waking Dream, I boiled down the symbolist worldview to a few essential points, including these:

  • The world reflects the presence of a greater regulating intelligence, or Divine Mind, which both permeates and transcends material reality.
  • All things partake in a greater continuum of order and design; consequently, there are no coincidences or truly random events. In turn, any seemingly chance event or process can divulge greater patterns of meaningfulness within the life of an individual or society.
  • Reality is multileveled in character, involving phenomena and experiences across a wide range of frequencies or vibrations.
  • The world is interwoven in a complex web of subtle correspondences: secret connections that link seemingly diverse phenomena through a deeper resonance of meaning.
  • All phenomena can be reduced to a basic set of universal principles or archetypes. Described in various ways by different traditions, these principles constitute the underlying language of both outer and inner experience.

While all of those points play an important role in a broader metaframework of synchronicity, I’d like to focus our attention here on one of those in particular—the doctrine of correspondences.

 

The Doctrine of Correspondences

Virtually every esoteric or magical tradition has subscribed to this concept in one form or another, which can be broadly described as a sense that all things are connected in ways beyond the immediately obvious, involving a subterranean network of deeper qualities or metaphoric essences. As Ralph Waldo Emerson put it in his essay “Demonology,” “Secret analogies tie together the remotest parts of Nature, as the atmosphere of a summer morning is filled with innumerable gossamer threads running in every direction, revealed by the beams of the rising sun” (Emerson, 2:949).

For instance, suppose you were to ask a scientist to explain what the planet Mars really is. They would likely fall back on describing it in terms of that planet’s most obvious and observable properties—its chemical or elemental composition, its physical dimensions, weather patterns and energy fields, cosmic history, orbital dynamics, and so on. Furthermore, were the scientist to try and classify it in relation to all other phenomena in the universe, they would likely think in terms of readily observable relationships, such as the fact Mars belongs to a particular class of celestial bodies and interacts with those bodies in measurable ways that include gravity, magnetism, and so on. Simply put, the scientific perspective would provide us with a quantitative approach toward understanding the planet Mars.

But for the symbolically minded student, Mars can also be understood in terms of its essential qualities or symbolic meanings—a perspective that requires a very different mode of perception, and one that affords access to a very different order of information within the universe’s phenomena.

Seen through a more symbolic lens, Mars can be linked to such qualities as force, energy, or assertiveness. These, in turn, link through a subtle network of qualities to other phenomena such as warfare, the metal iron, anger, energy, sharp objects, fire, and still others. From this perspective, a certain event might happen over here, just as the planet Mars is engaged in a planetary dance over there, and though the two may not seem connected in any obvious way, they can be related through subtle tendrils of meaning, through subtle patterns of archetypal resonance. While the purely literal-minded eye would regard such meanings and connections as nonsensical and entirely imaginary, to the esoteric eye they are quite real, albeit subtle.

This mode of thinking regards the world as consisting of verbs and living processes, rather than solely as nouns or things. Indeed, all phenomena can be viewed on either of these two levels—literal or symbolic, as nouns or as verbs. Each level has its own validity and relevance, but it’s on this more symbolic level that we uncover that otherwise hidden network of acausal connections that links all phenomenon in our lives, and in turn to the cosmos.

When seen on that subtler level, we discover that our lives are permeated with coincidences of one sort or another, although some are more obvious than others. As such, the rare and dramatic “meaningful coincidence” described by Jung is only the tip of a far greater iceberg of interconnectedness that spans our entire lives.

Jung hinted at this himself when he spoke of the individual synchronicity as just “a particular instance of general acausal orderedness,” yet in the end, he chose to narrow his focus almost exclusively on the rare and unusual coincidence. Why? Presumably to make an already difficult subject less difficult and more digestible to both colleagues and general readers.

Whatever his reasoning, the key toward embracing that broader vision of synchronicity lies within a cognitive or epistemological shift. Seen through a purely literal-minded eye, synchronicity indeed appears to be a rare and infrequent phenomenon; but when perceived through the eye of metaphor, one’s vision opens up to a far broader universe of meanings and acausal connections, similar to how donning a pair of night vision goggles allows someone to behold a previously hidden landscape of subtle patterns not visible before.

Astrology: The Celestial Skeleton Key

Admittedly a controversial inclusion to the discussion, astrology is a subject even Jung himself felt important to include in this study. He believed that the correlation of planetary movements to an individual’s life experience provided a real-world illustration of synchronicity in action. As an example, he found that an analysis of certain sun and moon configurations between married couples offered statistical evidence for the presence of a synchronistic connection between heavenly patterns and personal experience.

While I largely agree with Jung’s view, my own reasons for including it here are somewhat different, and broader. Because astrology essentially represents the art and science of correspondences, it provides an especially helpful tool for approaching that otherwise hidden network of meanings we’re discussing here.

Because of its elaborate network of symbolic “rulerships,” whereby each planet or zodiacal sign is assigned a host of subtle connections throughout the world, one quickly discovers that our lives are populated by countless acausal associations that are otherwise invisible to the purely physical eye. One value of astrology is that it gives us the ability to examine those subtle connections more quickly, and far more comprehensively. Let me give a simple example.

Suppose someone finds themselves in the midst of a disruptive period in life where no obvious synchronicities or coincidences seem visible. Apply the lens of astrological symbolism to their life, however, and you may well discover that the planet Uranus is firing strongly in their horoscope right then—at which point a host of acausal connections and subtle coincidences suddenly become clear, all related to the overarching principle of “Uranus.” This might include such Uranian correspondences and symbols as technical or mechanical problems, delays in catching a flight, issues of personal freedom in a relationship, or even an injury to the ankle (the body part associated with Uranus). Yet this particular matrix of secret analogies would be completely invisible to the strict materialist, since it requires a heightened sensitivity to metaphoric essences rather than purely obvious appearances.

In that way, astrology provides us with an especially useful tool for helping us become more familiar with this subtle language of correspondences and, in turn, the deeply synchronistic language of daily life.

 

Envisioning a More Holistic Model

So where do we go from here? Picking up from where I left off in The Waking Dream, I’d suggest a few possible directions for continued research and exploration.

A more holistic and integral approach to synchronicity might be envisioned in the form of a pyramid, with the narrowest aspects of this research symbolized by the pyramid’s peak and expanding downward to include progressively broader aspects of synchronicity closer to the bottom, as follows:

 

 unifiedd field
 A Prospective Model for a "Unified Field" Approach to the Study of Synchronicity

 

I. At the peak of the pyramid, akin to the most visible portion of an iceberg, a systematic approach to synchronicity would focus on the study and classification of meaningful coincidences of the most obvious and literal types—such as a woman talking about her dream of a beetle at the precise moment one appears at the window.

II. At the next level down, our focus would broaden out to include meaningful coincidences of a more symbolic and subtle nature, where the emphasis is less on the form of the event and more on the underlying meaning. A simple example of that would be the time I was biking over a footbridge in a local forest preserve and unexpectedly saw a deer swimming across a river, something I’d never seen before in all my years of hiking or biking. I later discovered that this sighting occurred at the very moment a close friend of mine passed away following a lingering illness. (In fact, I’d even been thinking about that friend just moments before encountering the deer.) Strictly on its surface, there is no obvious coincidence between a deer crossing a river and news of someone’s death; yet to someone employing an analogical or metaphoric eye, the synchronistic connection is clear enough, and even echoes back to classical notions likening death to the crossing of a river. At this level of our pyramid, we could also include the wide range of symbolic messages described in various divinational traditions such as pyromancy, cledonism (divination based on chance remarks), ornithomancy, geomancy, bibliomancy, and many others—all of which involve meaningful or anomalous events and connections but which may not take the form of obvious, readily recognizable coincidences.

III. Moving further down the pyramid, our study widens out to focus on more collective synchronicities and symbolic events, both obvious and subtle, involving groups of people rather than solitary individuals. One example of this would be the outbreak of revolutionary fervor that sometimes occurs across the world in seemingly unrelated contexts at the same time. In his book Cosmos and Psyche, my colleague Richard Tarnas points out how the famed mutiny that took place on the English ship H.M.S. Bounty in 1789 happened at the same time as the French Revolution—two historic events involving rebellious uprisings, yet without any direct connection between the two (Tarnas, 50‒60).  In turn, Tarnas notes, this took place during a powerful astrological aspect between the planets Uranus and Pluto. This could obviously be considered a synchronicity, yet it affected far more than one lone individual.

IV. At the base of the pyramid we find the study of the synchronistic worldview at its broadest—that is, what is the symbolist cosmology underlying all these levels? This level of inquiry would include such topics as the doctrine of correspondences, the law of cycles, the nature of archetypes, and even the doctrines of karma, reincarnation, and teleology (purpose) in relation to the more personal side of this phenomenon. These are all interconnected elements informing the unfoldment of meaning on the personal, collective, and universal levels.

Last but not least, a truly integral approach to synchronicity would involve a deeper look into the potential theological dimensions of this phenomenon—is the universe the dreamlike expression of a great being or some cosmic principle? That’s not a possibility we should overlook too casually. In order for the diverse events of our lives to be interwoven as intricately and artfully as synchronicity implies, and as systems like astrology empirically demonstrate, there would seem to be a regulating intelligence underlying our world, a central principle organizing all of its elements, like notes in a grand symphony of meaning.

Revisioning Jung’s Synchronicity

To recap, I’ve suggested that the phenomenon of synchronicity can be best understood in the framework of a cosmology that regards the entire world as dreamlike in nature, and which is as symbolic in its own way as our own nightly dreams, and likewise encoded in the language of symbols and subtle correspondences. Nested within that cosmic dream are the smaller dreams of both groups and individuals, all seamlessly intertwined like threads in a vast quilt. As a result, a single, isolated coincidence occurring for any one individual actually takes place within the context of this larger infrastructure of meaning that suffuses all these different levels.

So how would such a broad vision specifically alter our understanding of Jung’s model of synchronicity? I think it can be boiled down to a few essential points.

Most obvious of all is the matter of frequency—that is, how often does synchronicity really occur? On the one hand, Jung spoke of synchronicity as an acausal connection between an outer event and an inner psychological state, or between two external events. In either case, he described it as a “relatively rare” phenomenon, a decidedly infrequent eruption of meaning in our lives. Employing the symbolist approach, however, we find there are actually many eruptions of meaning in our lives, occurring in a wide variety of contexts. Taking a hint from the esoteric traditions, we could include such seemingly common developments as the births of children, chance encounters with strangers or animals, life tragedies, changes in the workplace, travel experiences, health problems, nightly dreams, and anomalous events of any sort. All of these—and many more—are meaningful eruptions, with deep acausal connections to broader patterns of significance in our lives, all playing their own role in the phenomenological drama of everyday experience.

But considering how all-pervasive synchronicity becomes according to such a view, how shall we begin to sort out the proverbial signal from the noise in unearthing meaning from ordinary experience? In The Waking Dream, I suggested a simple rule of thumb: to focus attention particularly on those events which are most unusual or out of the ordinary. If you have a subscription to a daily newspaper, say, finding a copy on your doorstep is nothing particularly significant. But suppose you have never subscribed to any newspaper and one day find a copy at your front door. That suddenly takes on significance, with the meaning perhaps being revealed by the symbolism of the headline that day, or perhaps even by the subject of a phone conversation you were having at the moment you found it.

In formulating his theory of synchronicity, Jung focused his attention strictly on coincidences of a simultaneous sort—that is, those which specifically take place in the same moment in time. Jung’s story about the scarab is one example; another would be receiving a phone call from a childhood friend at the same moment an old letter from them falls out of a book you just pulled off the shelf. Such events synchronize in time—hence Jung’s term synchronicity.

Prior to Jung, though, the Austrian biologist Paul Kammerer undertook his own study of coincidences but focused instead on coincidences of a sequential sort, those which happen consecutively. For example, an obscure old song might pop up numerous times over the course of a single day, one after the other, in completely different contexts. Looking at such events, Kammerer termed his own theory seriality, emphasizing the consecutive rather than simultaneous character of coincidences. (For a discussion of Kammerer’s theory, see Arthur Koestler’s Case of the Midwife Toad.)

At its broadest, the symbolist worldview dispenses with any strict emphasis on simultaneity or sequentiality, instead opening up to acausal connections of all types—sequential or simultaneous, obvious or subtle. As the symbolist perspective of astrology illustrates in particular, the synchronistic tapestry of correspondences extends in all directions, through both time and space.

Whereas Jung saw synchronicity strictly as a personal phenomenon, related to the psychodynamics of individuals, the symbolist worldview sees acausal connections taking place on at least three distinct levels: personal, collective, and universal. I mentioned the coincidence between the mutiny on the Bounty and the French Revolution as a synchronicity involving groups rather than merely individuals. Another example would be the curious way similar inventions or theories sometimes arise simultaneously in different parts of the world, seemingly without any connection to one another. One famous instance was the development of the telephone by both Alexander Graham Bell and Elisha Gray, both inventors having filed notices with the Patent Office in Washington, D.C., on the very same day, February 14, 1876.

It’s even possible to talk about synchronicity in contexts where neither individuals or groups are involved. For instance, astrologers might examine how a volcanic eruption on a remote Pacific island coincided with a celestial pattern involving the distant planets Uranus and Pluto. Such a connection would constitute a truly synchronistic development in that it’s a truly acausal connection of events, but one that didn’t involve individuals or even collectives in any direct way. Likewise, there are astrologers who study the relationship of planetary configurations to weather patterns throughout the world, whether humans are directly involved or not. In contrast with Jung’s model, in other words, individual human psychologies needn’t even be present or involved for synchronicities to occur.

Conclusion

To borrow William Irwin Thompson’s classic analogy, we are like flies crawling across the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, unaware of the archetypal drama spread out before us. The infrequent and dramatic coincidence simply pulls back the curtain on one small portion of that tableau, which encompasses not just our personal lives but our society, and indeed the entire universe.

As such, synchronicity is the key to a dramatically different cosmology than is suggested by conventional science. Beyond simply implying an intimate relationship between one’s outer and inner world, or a subtle “entanglement” between distant phenomena, it describes a worldview that is both multileveled in its meanings and interconnected in ways far beyond what the literally minded eye can possibly perceive.

While it’s within our grasp to understand that broader worldview, we can’t attain it through any purely literal mindset or mechanistic methodology, let alone through the study of individual coincidences in themselves. Rather, it will need to unfold in partnership with a broader philosophical inquiry into the symbolic and archetypal dimensions of existence itself. That, and nothing less, will allow us to finally perceive the “whole elephant” of synchronicity.

                                                                                                 

Sources

Emerson, Ralph Waldo. The Complete Writings. Twelve volumes. New York: William H. Wise, 1929.

Grasse, Ray. “Synchronicity and the Mind of God.” Quest, May-June 2006: 91‒94.

———. The Waking Dream: Unlocking the Symbolic Language of Our Lives. Wheaton: Quest, 1996.

Jung, C.G. Synchronicity: An Acausal Connecting Principle. Translated by R.F.C. Hull. 2d ed. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton/Bollingen, 1973.

Koestler, Arthur. The Case of the Midwife Toad. New York: Random House, 1971.

Tarnas. Richard. Cosmos and Psyche. New York: Penguin, 2006.

Ray Grasse is author of nine books, including An Infinity of Gods, The Waking Dream, and When the Stars Align. He worked for ten years on the editorial staffs of Quest magazine and Quest Books. His website is www.raygrasse.com. For a deeper dive into correspondence theory and the dynamics of symbolism, see his book The Waking Dream, as well as chapter 36 of his book StarGates. The article has been excerpted from his latest book So, What Am I Doing Here, Anyway? (London: Wessex Astrologer, 2024).

 


Three Minutes a Day: An Interview with Richard Dixey

Printed in the  Spring 2024 issue of Quest magazine. 
Citation: Smoley, Richard "Three Minutes a Day: An Interview with Richard Dixey" Quest 112:2, pg 12-19

By Richard Smoley

Richard Dixey is a scientist and lifelong student of Asian philosophy. He runs the Light of Buddhadharma Foundation in India with his wife, Wangmo, the eldest daughter of the Tibetan lama Tarthang Tulku. He is a senior faculty member at Dharma College in Berkeley, California.

His new book, Three Minutes a Day: A Fourteen-Week Course to Learn Meditation and Transform Your Life (New World Library), claims that by following the practices in it for only three minutes a day for fourteen weeks, you can transform your meditative practice and your life.

I conducted a Zoom interview with Dixey about his new book. The full interview is available on YouTube-. Following is an edited version.

Richard Smoley: Could you explain a little bit about the book and how it connects readers with meditative practice?

RichardDixeyRichard Dixey: To really understand what this book is about, it’s worth having a brief review of meditation, because most people have never meditated; they think it’s some mystical practice from the East.

To begin, the only things we will ever experience and can ever experience are the inputs from our five senses and our thoughts and imaginations: everything else is inferential. From these, we can infer an external world. We can also infer an internal world, but these too are inferences built upon these primary events.

Meditation is about directly addressing those inputs by looking at experience as experience. There is no other way of knowing anything. Meditation is about this fact of life, which is so fundamental that we miss it. It’s like looking through a window and not seeing the glass. We don’t see that the world we live in is actually a construct, an inference made from the five senses, thoughts, and imaginations.

We all suffer from reflexive reactivity, and this is the next reason why meditation is important. Reflexive reactivity is our capacity to react to events quickly. Unfortunately, because it’s reflexive, it tends to be unconscious, so we’re always reacting to events. In our cognitive processes, we’re actually constructing a map of the world. That map is what we make, we infer, from our five senses, thoughts, and imaginations, and that map is full of reflexive triggers.

Now we need these triggers, because the map is essentially protective. You could well say that what took a naked ape from the savannas of Africa to driving around in sports cars is precisely this mapping. This mapping enables us to learn from experience: when a bad thing happens, we remember it, and when it next occurs in our experience, we know what to do.

This map is reflexive. Unfortunately, it’s also paranoid. It’s really only interested in bad news. That’s why the newspapers are full of bad news. If you put on a newspaper a headline that says something went well, nobody cares. If you say something went badly, everybody wants to read about it. That’s because the mapmaker is protective. We are in a protective mechanism made by our cognitive apparatus, which is reflexively mapping the world.

Now this fact appears in our common language. We use the word recognition. We say, “I recognize you,” or “I recognize this.” When we say that, we mean our map has got a reference for something; we know what it is. Normally, it is associated with naming, so when we say, “I recognize that,” it means I have a name for it. When we walk around in our normal experience, everything’s got a name: that means we’re walking in a memory.

We are actually recognizing, re-cognizing, cognizing again, all the time.

If our mapmaking was totally accurate—if it didn’t have any coloring and it was absolutely the case that what we were mapping was out there—there’d be no issue. The problem is that our map comes from our memories: everything that ever happened to us—the circumstances of our birth, the country we’re born in, influences from the news—is all put into this map. So our experience is being conditioned. We are being colored by the map; consequently we end up in a world which is not the case. We are mapping the world inaccurately.

This is a cause of enormous problems for us and for everyone we meet, because they are mapping the world in exactly the same way. Two people meet, they have different maps, so they disagree. Or you get national maps, where communities of people in a country have a map together. Another country has a different map, and they fight. These are tremendously problematic consequences of a lack of understanding of our cognitive process.

 The final element of this process is what’s happening in modernity, where we have increasingly sophisticated devices that capture our attention. They advert our attention, which is where the word advertising comes from. With the advent of mobile phones, people are carrying around sophisticated little computers that are designed to capture their attention. As a result, our attention is being taken this way and that, and we are stressed. We feel disempowered and disconnected from our experience, so we have an epidemic of alienation.

Mapmaking is not just a matter of names. It also has an element of, “I want that; I don’t want that.” “This is good. This is bad.” “This is something I should worry about.” All of these injunctions are in that map, so we’re being pulled this way and that, and as a result we can’t see clearly.

All of these issues are addressed by meditation, which is the fundamental life skill of seeing cognition prior to recognition.

How can you get to cognition prior to recognition? If you can break this automatic, reflexive, re-cognitive loop by seeing cognition prior to recognition, an entirely different experience emerges.

Once this background is understood, meditation is properly seen as a skill. It’s not religious per se. These are skillful means, which come about when you know how to meditate. You can pray. You can visualize. You can use your meditation skillfully. People conflate the basic mechanism of meditation with those skillful means, and they say, “Meditation’s religious,” or “It’s Buddhist”: they have labels for it. But it’s totally neutral. Meditation is merely the faculty of seeing cognition itself, and we have that capacity.

The first step in any meditation practice is to simplify the inputs of the five senses, thoughts, and imaginations. If you do that, you can become calm. But there is an important key in developing calmness. We are all taught to concentrate, and concentration is normally thought to be taking your attention and adverting it to a chosen object. The problem is, that kind of concentration is brittle. You hold your concentration on an object. Then a sound or thought happens, and you’re immediately adverting to whatever has disturbed you. You’re always trying to hold on to this brittle, concentrative focus.

But the old meditation masters understood that there are two phases to concentration. Concentration is not merely to advert attention; it is also to savor the object of attention. This second phase, this savoring, is an extremely important element of concentration.

The metaphor is simple enough. You lift a cup of coffee to your lips. That’s vitaka: adverting your concentration. You then savor the coffee: that’s called vicara: savoring.

Adverting the attention is what one does for the first week of my program. The next step is to follow a changing object. I suggest taking a bell. You strike it and follow the sound of the bell. That’s vitaka. And following, savoring the sound as the bell fades is vicara. Taking this input from the ear gate and following it into silence is to learn to be concentrated with no object of concentration at all, because the object fades.

Vicara, this savoring concentration, is not brittle: when something comes to disturb vicara, it just gets incorporated into vicara as a flavor. As a result one can move toward calmness.

Calmness is not having no thoughts; this is another huge misconception about meditation. Our cognitive apparatus is designed to run scenarios. It’s always mapping; it’s always making what-ifs for us. That’s its job. To say, stop thinking is nonsensical. You might as well say, stop breathing. It is a natural function. The key is to become nonreactive: we’re not always being pulled this way and that by whatever our sense inputs are saying. We gradually calm down to the point where we achieve clear seeing.

Clear seeing—the clarity of mind that comes from calmness—is called vipassana. Passana literally means seeing, and vi- means discriminating or clear. Vipassana is a fruit of calmness. It’s not a meditation on its own; it is a fruit of meditation.

If you are able to become calm, you will see clearly.  It’s like having a glass of water with a bit of dust in it. If it’s all stirred up, you can’t see through it. Put it on a shelf—that is, become nonreactive—leave it on its own, and the water clears. Suddenly you see clearly now.

Seeing clearly brings us many benefits. It’s normally associated with the strange word wisdom, because someone who sees clearly is nonreactive to what is in front of them. They think, “I wonder what that is.” They then have the freedom to make inquiry without being automatically reactive. Often when you look a second time, you find alternatives you missed in your reactivity.

In our normal life, we are bombarded by injunctions  coming from our own re-cognitive map. This makes us easily manipulated, because, unfortunately, recognition is entirely mechanical. That’s to say, if I can put an idea into you, you will recognize it, which is exactly how advertising works: you put something into someone’s mind; they recognize it and think it’s real. The same is true of political propaganda.

Meditation was designed initially for monks, and unsurprisingly, most meditation practices last for a long time,  because monks are happily able to sit for an hour or two. That’s their day job; that’s what they do.

It isn’t necessary to sit that long to get this insight. The insight that separates cognition from recognition can be achieved in much shorter periods. I wrote this book to explain this. Then there are simple exercises that you do for three minutes a day for seven days; as long as you do them, you are going to know what I pointed out to you, because you’ll have that experience.

The whole process takes fourteen weeks. They build up to the point where anybody who does this practice for three minutes a day for fourteen weeks will know what meditation is. They will have the taste of it. Now they can either use that in their daily life—because it is extremely useful—or they can go further: they can develop skillful means in whatever area they like.

I think it’s tragic when religiously inclined people try to develop the skillful means that come from meditation without the meditation. They’re merely grasping at what they think they might achieve. We have big words like enlightenment and liberation, but if we don’t have this fundamental capacity, these things are just words.

This practice is really a preface for a life lived more fully, whether or not you’re religiously inclined. Perhaps you’re a businessperson who wants to be able to take time out during a busy day and see things a different way. Maybe you’re an artist who wants to become more creative. Maybe you’re a housewife, with your kids bugging you the whole time; you just want to be able to take time out.

This time out is not relaxation as people normally think of it: lying down and doing nothing. This is a very precise not doing, because it’s learning to not react. When you don’t react, you become clear. You don’t disappear at all.

People often think that if they become nonreactive, they’re going to disappear. Quite the reverse: when you become nonreactive, you appear. You find for once that you are in the center of your being. You’re no longer being pulled this way and that. It is as if the emperor has taken the throne, and the vizier, the advisor that’s been telling you what to do, is sitting in its proper place. You have your capacity, your human potential, just from this extremely simple practice. And three minutes a day is all it takes.

Actually I made an app and gave it away with the book, so people can put this practice on their phones. It doesn’t have to be done in a shrine or a special room. It can be done anywhere, because our re-cognitive map is being triggered everywhere. As a result, meditation is the most portable life skill you can imagine. All you need is your cognition, and you can meditate.

This is where meditation begins and ends. It’s a liberation from our own cognition. We’re not being locked up by anyone else. Meditation opens the door to freedom in a fundamental way. That’s why I feel so strongly about it.

Smoley: Of course there are many different angles we could take on what you just said. Let’s start with vicara. Let us say that you are doing this particular practice—listening to and savoring the sound of a bell—and let’s say you live on an extremely noisy street. There are all sorts of truck sounds, kids screaming, stereos, and whatnot. So if I understand your point, when you’re doing this particular type of meditation, you’re also savoring those peripheral noises as part of experience. Is that more or less correct?

Dixey: All beginning meditators have to simplify the six gates (the five senses plus thought) to one, because we’re being so pulled around that we have to quieten it all down and get to one. So any beginning practice says, please try to quiet things down.

The beginning meditator wants to be in a quiet place and just concentrate on one gate, or sense.

Once you become used to savoring, you find you can open your eyes and ears and savor the entirety of the display. But that’s a much more expert level. That’s what you’re working towards.

This leads to an extremely interesting point about the term sense restraint. Sense restraint is mistranslated as closing down the senses so you hear nothing and see nothing. This is a total misunderstanding. Sense restraint is to restrain the reaction. You become nonreflexive. This is a life skill to give ourselves some space so that when there are car doors slamming and kids screaming, we’re not being pulled around by the map asking, “What’s this? What’s this?”

Once we do that, suddenly everything simplifies. And the vizier—the advisor who before vipassana was forcing us to react to everything—becomes a friend. This advisor may say, “I think it’s one of those things,” and you reply, “Yeah, maybe it is. But let’s have a look.” You get the ability to respond rather than react. That distinction is extremely important. A response is a considered reaction; a reaction is merely reflexive.

Unfortunately, because all of our reactions come from the past, we go round and round, repeating the same mistakes. This is where we get the appalling circularity that we see both in our own lives and in human history. As they say, history doesn’t repeat, but it rhymes, because it’s guided by the past. You can read the meditations of Marcus Aurelius, who was writing around AD 160: you could have met him yesterday. What he is saying about humanity is exactly what we are experiencing. That’s because there’s been a complete failure to address our reactivity. And this is the gift the Asian traditions give.

The fruit of meditation is really important; we just have to demystify it from the complexity of skillful means. I am not criticizing skillful means. I am all for people using the basic meditative skills of shamata [calmness] and vipassana to develop their psychic capacities. This is possible, but it’s not fundamental to meditation. Unfortunately, people put the cart before the horse and try to get those psychic capacities before they fully understand their own reactivity. The result is spiritual materialism: they try to grab the fruit before they have the means.

I think a corrective needs to be introduced: to explain what meditation is so that this basic skill can be separated from its ornaments. When we do, we suddenly realize that meditation is something that should be taught along with reading and writing.

As I said, it’s not anything religious, or anything at all; it doesn’t affect people’s religious positions. It’s completely compatible with science—indeed, scientific insight is now confirming what the meditators saw. Cognitive psychology is demonstrating that the medieval meditators were remarkably accurate in their self-observation.  For example, meditation manuals from the third century point out that the citta consciousness flickers on and off. We now know that’s the case. Those people were accurately describing a fundamental physiological function.

But there’s another point. In the seventies, the philosopher Thomas Nagel wrote an amazing article called, “What Is It Like to Be a Bat?” It says you can gather all the bat physiologists, all the bat zoologists, all the bat anatomists—all the people who know about bats. You can write an encyclopedia about bats. But no matter how many books you write about bats, you are never going to know what it is to be a bat. What it is to be a bat is something only bats know.

In exactly the same way, you can go into a bookshop and see books upon books written by neurophysiologists and neuroanatomists saying, “What is it like to be happy? A hundred and one ways to be happy,” written by some boffin who’s got a degree in neurophysiology. This is utter nonsense. The only way you’re going to know what it is like to be you is to be you. It doesn’t matter how many brain maps we have or how many machines we have that measure brain function—none of them are going to tell you what it is like to be you. If you are a victim of reflexive reactivity, you will never find out what it’s like to be you, because you’re being pulled around by a map.

Another way of seeing this is saying, “OK. I’m just going to stop the mapmaking and be me. I will vipassana me. I will suddenly see clearly what it’s like to be me.” That is the recovery of our humanity. It is not incompatible with science; it is complementary. Indeed, you’re a much better scientist if you know what it’s like to be you. You’re also a much better user of technology.

We live in a golden age of scientific discovery and technological development—the most productive period of human history—but at the same time we are teetering on the edge of the apocalypse because of this blindness about mapmaking. If we can only see cognition and then see recognition—the fact that we’re making a map—we can use the remarkable powers that our culture has developed for the good of all. And that is an instinctive reaction of human beings. Human beings are basically good. The problem is, we’re being led astray by mechanical, reflexive reactivity that is driving us over a cliff.

Smoley: Let’s go back to the six gates. Like the rest of us, the Tibetans posit five senses, but they also posit thought as a sense. Everything is coming in through these six gates. The minute you examine this, you start to realize how limited each of those gates is. Is there a way of expanding or transcending the apparent limits of the six gates?

Dixey: If you begin to engage with the cognition of the six gates rather than recognition, you find that your sensorium is really quite remarkable. It’s just that we react to it rather than engage with it. For example, the retina of the eye is so sensitive it can detect a single photon. Who knows what it might be capable of? Indeed, when you hang out with meditators, you see that they can have quite remarkable capacities.

I’m not a great psychic master. But if, for example, you sit and you listen without reacting and just explore what’s coming in through your ears, you hear things that normally you would ignore, because they’re not interesting to your reactive map. Suddenly your sensorium is growing.

Reality is what we engage with. I don’t care if a scientist tells me there are black holes. Of course it’s great, and maybe because of that knowledge we’ll get new technology, but it is an inference. It’s an idea that comes from his work and what he’s inferred. It isn’t real in the proper sense of that term. What is real is what is coming to me, and what is real is what is coming to you. There is no external reality, because that cannot be experienced.

The idea that the real is beyond experience is obviously incomprehensible. It would imply that we can’t know anything, because what is really is beyond our knowledge. That is the most extraordinary idea. Indeed, the person who wrote it down wouldn’t be real either, so it is a self-contradictory position.

Ultimately what is real is what comes to us. The key is to be able to engage with it. If we do, and we respond to our senses, we find remarkable capacities.

This is the function of art. A great artist, like Cézanne or Rembrandt or Vermeer, will record exactly what’s coming in and be able to put it down. When you look at these works of art, it’s as if they oblige you to stop the clock. You get a numinous feeling out of a great work of art. It’s the call of the cuckoo, saying, “Wake up! You guys are in a map. Wake up! Stop mapping! Come into the real world.”

Many of us long to have a more meaningful life. It’s right in front of us. When we learn to get a little closer into our sensorium, suddenly there’s a different world altogether. To me, that is a magical discovery, and it’s simple to achieve.

Smoley: I’m wondering what relation your teachings have to the Dzogchen lineage in Tibetan Buddhism.

Dixey: It is true that Dharma College’s curriculum comes from authentic sources, because I have the great good fortune to be married to Wangmo, who is the eldest daughter of Tarthang Tulku Rinpoche, one of the few remaining fully trained lamas in the Tibetan meditation system.

But these ideas are in all the Buddhist lineages. When you go back and read the earliest teachings of the Buddha, he’s always saying, “See. See.” He’s trying to get people to see.

I think it’s crazy that we’ve always got Buddhas sitting in meditation. That’s our Buddha: some guy sitting in meditation. But that isn’t what the Buddha did. Probably if he meditated at all, it was for minutes a day. He was continuously active, teaching the whole time. He kept company with the most average people. In fact, many of his students were courtesans. He wasn’t away in some monastery, sitting for eight hours a day, looking at a wall. That is absolutely not what the Buddha is recorded as having done.           

This points to the fact that this is a fundamental insight that we can take anywhere. It isn’t a particular system. It’s a cultural jewel that we can use, and it gives something very valuable to contemporary conditions. It enables us to recover our humanity, but not by learning a set of rules about how to do the right thing. The way is to recover your humanity through recognizing and then resting prior to recognition in cognition itself. When that happens, your humanity blossoms. You’re no longer the reactive, difficult person you were before; you suddenly find yourself being kind and friendly and open-hearted, because that’s what human beings are. We don’t have to be taught to be nice. We are actually kind, and the kindness that people aspire to they already have. It’s just being covered over by a paranoia that comes from mapmaking.

It’s a great discovery to realize we’re basically kind. I read an amazing book called Humankind: A Hopeful History`, written by a Dutch physiologist called Rutger Bregman. It’s about the systematic falsification of psychological experiments made by physiologists to show that human beings are basically unkind.

In one case, there was a group of kids who were left on a desert island. We were told that they would turn into a terrifying Lord of the Flies world, in which there were leaders and people being beaten up. That’s totally false. When these kids, who had been washed up on a desert island, were discovered, they had made a school for themselves. They had a completely egalitarian society.

It is a complete fabrication—this idea that when humans aren’t being controlled, they’ll turn into savages. It’s absolutely the reverse. When we’re not controlled, we turn into human beings who are nice and kind and cooperative.

We are being sold a dummy, a dud, by people who wish to control us—advertisers, whether they’re political or economic. The key is to learn how to recover our humanity in the face of this onslaught. That’s what meditation is for.

Smoley: I can’t resist asking you about your father-in-law, Tarthang Tulku, who is certainly one of the most dynamic and creative Tibetan lamas to come to the West. He’s also been among the most reclusive, so few people have seen or interacted with him for a very long time. What are your impressions of him on a day-to-day, personal basis?

Dixey: He’s a phenomenon. During the first period of his career in America, from 1968 to 1976, he was teaching very actively.

Then he was so appalled by the destruction of the monasteries and Tibetan culture and the plight of the Tibetan refugees in India that he decided to dedicate his efforts to printing books and giving them back the libraries they’d lost. He now has personally edited over 3,000 Tibetan texts, which are the basic syllabus that the monks learn, and he’s been responsible for the printing and distribution of over 7 million copies. He has dedicated himself almost completely to doing this. It was a necessity. I am sure that in a happier age, he would have taught exclusively, but there was an emergency.

The Buddhist commentarial literature is larger than all the texts of the world’s other religions combined: about 12 million original titles. It’s vast, and the Tibetan system is very much based on study, contemplation, and practice. You must study, then you contemplate, then you practice. So it’s very important for them to have these books.

He felt this culture was going to die if he didn’t do something, and he was in America with the means. Because American society is remarkably productive, a very small group of people printed 7 million books. People can’t believe it, and that’s what he dedicates his time to.

But when you spend time with him, he’s always saying to you, “Who is looking? Who is actually reacting here?” He is always wanting to inquire if you are in cognition or recognition. He’s interested in knowing what your state is.

He’s also pretty certain that merely translating Tibetan traditions into English is going to cause problems, because the technical language that was developed for shamata and vipassana doesn’t translate readily into Western languages; we need a special language to translate it. So he began to write books in plain English.

The main book that we teach at Dharma College is called Revelations of Mind: A New Way of Understanding the Human Mind. It is a 400-page book about cognition and recognition without a single Tibetan, Sanskrit, Pali, or Buddhist word in it, because he feels strongly that we need to bring these ideas into our own culture and express them in our own way. Although he’s very traditional in his activities toward his own culture, he’s written thirty-seven books for contemporary, Western, educated audiences, and they are all in plain English; they’re not Buddhist books at all.

He’s a truly magical being, without question. Of course I have the great good fortune to meet him sometimes, but he is busy: he’s eighty-nine, and he’s still working twelve-hour days. He is a nonstop producer. He has single-handedly rebuilt the monastic libraries through India and the Himalayas. There isn’t a Buddhist library you can go to in the heartland of Buddhism that doesn’t contain many of the books he’s printed.

Smoley: Many people have wondered whether extraordinary capacities developed through meditative practices can be used for evil. What do you have to say to that?

Dixey: Of course anything can be used for evil. Evil is the misuse of human skills. The theistic religious traditions are nearly always couched in terms of good and evil. There are all kinds of explanations for evil; sometimes it’s a fallen angel. That’s not true of the Asian traditions at all. The Asian traditions believe in fundamental human goodness. Obviously there are seriously bad people out there who are doing bad things. Is this a fundamental trait, or is this something that’s been learnt? What would happen if somehow we wiped the recognitive map clean?

If we’re in a recognitive map the whole time, we may have bad experiences that cause us to end up wishing to control others for evil ends. Does that make us basically evil? I would strongly question that. To me, the problem is the unconscious, reflexive reactivity which causes this kind of behavior.

To me, the key is to learn the difference. All I can do is speak for myself. I am not a dictator. I don’t run an evil regime,  so I can’t say what it’s like to be one of these guys. All I know for myself is that my bad behavior, the things I have been embarrassed to have done, have got less and less as I have become less reactive. If the theory of evil was correct, as I became less “controlled,” I would become nastier and nastier, but actually I’m becoming a nicer person by becoming less reactive.

If you deeply engage with these practices, you will become better at everything. You will also become a calmer, kinder, and more compassionate person.


The Secret Doctrine: Electronic Book Edition

The Secret Doctrine: Electronic Book Edition.
Ed
. Vincente Hao Chin, Jr. Quezon City, Philippines;
Theosophical Publishing House, 1998. 5 floppy disks, 7.5 megabytes harddisk space.

The Philippines Section of the Theosophical Society, under the presidency of Vic Hao Chin, has brought turn-of-the-century technology to the study of The Secret Doctrine by producing an electronic version of Blavatsky's work.

Currently available on 5 high-density floppies, the text uses the pagination of the 1888 edition (as all modern studies do). It installs on a hard disk, runs under Windows 3.101' Windows 95, and requires 7.5 megabytes of hard disk space for its storage. It includes a search program that allows the reader to look for any word or phrase used in the text (other than special characters or words in diagrams or illustrations).

A search produces a list of sections in which the specified word or phrase is to be found, identified by volume, part, section or chapter numbers, and the title of the section. The sections are ordered in the list according to the frequency with which they contain the word or phrase, with the most abundant use first. For example, mulaprakriti is used in 22 sections of the book, most often in volume 1, pan: 2, section 12 entitled "The Theogony of the Creative Gods," where there are 12 uses, and next most often in the Proem of volume 1, where there are 11 uses, and so on.

Clicking on any given line of the list takes one to the corresponding section of The Secret Doctrine, in which every occurrence of the word or phrase is highlighted for ease of location. The click of a button takes the user from one highlighted use to the next. The text, in whatever amplitude the user desires, can be blocked and copied to a document in the word processor of the user's choice.

If a student wants to know what The Secret Doctrine says about any term or how it uses any expression, this electronic edition is the fastest, most thorough, and most accurate way to find the answer. Through it, one can produce an exhaustive list of every occurrence in The Secret Doctrine of whatever word or phrase one wants to investigate. And because its text can be copied and pasted to another document, it is the easiest way to get quotations, long or short, from the book.

Plans are currently underway to put the program eventually onto a CD with various supplementary materials. However, the electronic edition now available is excellent and highly useful. No serious student of The Secret Doctrine should be without it. Vicente Hao Chin, Jr., and his co-workers are owed a very great vote of thanks for their work in producing this electronic version.

The Future

Electronic, globally searchable texts will not put primed indexes out of business-at least, not yet. But they will transform how such indexes are designed and what they are used for.

The availability of computer searches through an electronic text largely obviates the traditional use of printed indexes, which has been to find places in a text where a given word is used and a given subject is discussed. It is pointless to look up a word manually in one printed book, note down the references given for that word, look up each reference in another book, and then copy (either by hand or xerography) the quotations one wants.

That is an obsolete research technique. Instead, one types the word or expression of interest into the electronic program, which then produces in the blink of an eye all occurrences of the word or expression, and one can electronically copy any passages one wants. Such electronic research reduces dramatically the time and effort spent in looking for information.

The existence of electronic texts will significantly alter the design and use of printed indexes, and the electronic texts will themselves evolve as new technology becomes available and as the needs of users call for evolving forms of presentation. Vic Hao Chin's electronic Secret Doctrine is the first, not the last, step in the new technology, just as John Van Mater's index is a transitional step to the new format such indexes will assume. Eventually, the two technologies-electronic text and printed index- will blend.

The key to the future of indexing is in John Van Mater's liberal use of cross-references. Vic Hao Chin's electronic text can be searched only for specific words or phrases used in the text. Thus, if one is interested in what The Secret Doctrine has to say about mulaprakriti, one can direct the program to produce all uses of that word. And it will do so, quickly and reliably. But the electronic program will not, at present, lead one on to synonyms or related terms. That's where the cross-references come

in. In a world of electronic searches, the most valuable part of the \/an Mater index are its cross-references. Future indexes need to amplify and elaborate such cross-referencing; they need to become not so much indexes to the text as thesauruses of related terms, which can be searched for by the computer program.

For example, the Van Mater index includes the complex of cross-references indicated above:

aether, akasa, anima mundi, astral light, daiviprakriti,
elements, ether, Father-Mother, hyle,
ilus, mulaprakriti, pradhana, prakriti, primordial
matter, protyle, svabhavat, world soul

To these might be added other related terms, such as the following (all of which appear in subentries under one or another of the cross-referenced terms):

aditi, aethereal, akasic, alaya, archaeus, asat,
celestial virgin, chaos, cosmic ideation, cosmic
matter, cosmic soul, cosmic substance, devamatri.
devil, dragon, eternal root, fobat, Holy
Ghost, honey-dew, hydrogen, illusion, isvara,
kshetrajna, Kwan-yin, life principle, light of
the logos, limbus, lipikas, logos, magic head,
magnes, maha-buddhi, mahat, matter, Mother,
Mother-Father, nahbkoon, Nebelheim, noumenon,
Oeaohoo, oversoul, parabrahman, picture
gallery, plastic essence, plenum, precosmic
root substance, prima materia, primordial substance,
Ptah, purusha-prakriti, root principle,
serpent, shekinah, sidereal light, Sophia, space,
svayambhu, undifferentiated matter, universal
mind, universal principle, universal soul, unmanifested
logos, unmodified matter, vacuum,
veil, waters of space, web, yliaster, Ymir

To be useful, such related terms would need to be organized into a branching tree of interlocking relationships. The best way to store and access such a tree structure is electronic. Eventually, the thesaurus-index toward which the Van Mater book has made a first step should be incorporated into the search program for the electronic text of The Secret Doctrine so that a user can search automatically not only for specific terms but also for related terms that the user may not even be aware of.

In sum, the two works under review here, the printed index and the electronic text of The Secret Doctrine, are splendid productions that will serve very well the needs of their users for the proximate future. They also point enticingly toward a more, though perhaps not very, distant future in which their technologies will be combined to afford students an unparalleled and previously unimaginable opportunity to study this foundational text of Theosophy.
-JOHN ALGEO

June 1998


H. P. Blavatsky and the SPR: An Examination of the Hodgson Report of 1885, by Vernon Harrison. Pasadena: Theosophical University Press, 1997. Hardback, xiv + 78 pages.

A turning point in H. P. Blavatsky's life, which at the time must have seemed to her as well as to those around her to be a calamity, was the 1885 report of the committee of the Society for Psychical Research (SPR) "appointed to investigate phenomena connected with the Theosophical Society" That report, written primarily by a young investigator named Richard Hodgson and therefore usually called "the Hodgson Report," reached a devastating conclusion:

For our own part, we regard her neither as the
mouthpiece of hidden seers, nor as a mere vulgar
adventuress; we think that she has achieved a title
to permanent remembrance as one of the
most accomplished, ingenious, and interesting
impostors in history. [4]

Theosophists have always held that the Hodgson Report, the initial effort of a fledgling and ambitious new investigator for the SPR, was biased, distorted, unfair, and unreliable. It would, however, not be unexpected that they should so respond to the report's highly critical judgment of the founder of Theosophy. Others tended to take the report as a soundly based, conclusive expose revealing Blavatsky as a fraud.

In 1986, shortly after the hundredth anniversary of the Hodgson Report, an impartial, critical examination of that report, covering both its methodology and conclusions, was made by a disinterested researcher, Vernon Harrison. Not connected with any Theosophical Society, Harrison had been a member of the Society for Psychical Research for fifty years; he was a professional expert in forgery and a frequent expert witness in legal cases involving forgery and counterfeiting.

The Hodgson Report dealt with a number of issues: (1) various paranormal phenomena performed by or connected with Blavatsky; (2) the putative Blavatsky-Coulomb correspondence; and (3) the authorship of the Mahatma Letters, Harrison confined himself to the last of those issues because forgery was his specialty and because primary evidence relating to that issue still exists, the Letters being available in the manuscript collection of the British Library. Eyewitnesses of the phenomena are now all dead, and the Coulomb letters mysteriously disappeared after having come into the possession of one of Blavatsky's opponents whom she sued for libel and who apparently found that the letters did not support his case.

Harrison's devastatingly critical examination of the Hodgson Report was published by the Society for Psychical Research, as the SPR editor said, "in the interest of truth and fair play, and to make amends for whatever offense we may have given" by the 1885 report. Harrison did not, however, end his investigation of the subject with that publication, but went on to examine critically all of the Mahatma Letters for evidence of forgery or fraud by Blavatsky.

Harrison's 1986 SPR article is reprinted in this volume together with a report of the new evidence from his subsequent investigation. The details of his research must be read in his own words to appreciate the thoroughness, skill, and knowledgeability with which it was conducted, There is also a keen and incisive sense of humor running through his comments. For example, Harrison demonstrates that by the same criteria Hodgson used to "prove" that HPB wrote the Mahatma Letters, he can "prove" that she also wrote Huckleberry Finn and that Dwight Eisenhower wrote Isis Unveiled, for Mark Twain and Ike's handwritings share critical features that Hodgson used to link HPB with the Mahatma Letters.

A1though it is not possible here to do justice to Harrison's full analysis, his concluding expert opinion on the subject can be summarized:

The Hodgson Report is not a scientific study…

Richard Hodgson was either ignorant or contemptuous of the basic principles of English justice…

In cases where it has been possible to check Hodgson's statements against the direct testimony of original documents, his statements are found to be either false or to have no significance in the context...

Having read the Mahatma Letters in the holographs, I am left with the strong impression that the writers KH and M were real and distinct human beings...

Who KH was I do not know, but I am of the opinion that all letters in the British Library initialed KH originated from him…

It is almost certain that the incriminating Blavatsky-Coulomb letters have been lost or destroyed, but there is strong circumstantial evidence that these letters were forgeries made by Alexis and Emma Coulomb...

I have found no evidence that the Mahatma Letters were written by Helena Blavatsky consciously and deliberately in a disguised form of her own handwriting…

I am unable to express an opinion about the "phenomena" described in the first part of the Hodgson Report ... but having studied Hodgson's methods, I have come to distrust his account and explanation of the said "phenomena."

Vernon Harrison concludes that there is much we do not know about Helena Blavatsky and many questions about her life remain unanswered. He believes, however, that "the Hodgson Report is a highly partisan document forfeiting all claim to scientific impartiality" (4), "riddled with slanted statements, conjecture advanced as fact or probable fact, uncorroborated testimony of unnamed witnesses, selection of evidence and downright falsity" (32), and therefore "should be used with great caution, if not disregarded. It is badly flawed" (69).

This book should be in the library of every Theosophist and should be studied by anyone who writes or reads about Blavatsky. It is an extraordinarily important work in HPB's biography and in the history of the Society and of Theosophy.
-JOHN ALGEO


A Solution to a Pointless Life: Spiritual Self-Help for Personal Development

A Solution to a Pointless Life: Spiritual Self-Help for Personal Development

Albert Amao Soria
Bloomington, Ind.: AuthorHouse, 2023. 306 pp.; hardcover, $34.95; paper, $20.99.

I have known Dr. Albert Amao Soria for many years and always found great insight in what he writes and says. I have quoted him in my own writing as a great source of wisdom of the human condition. He has traveled to speak to our Theosophical group in Minneapolis and others on several occasions and always given freely of his time and energy in unraveling the greater mysteries and the ancient wisdom tradition.

He is known in Theosophical circles as a national lecturer of the Theosophical Society in America, a keynote speaker, and author of the Quest book Healing without Medicine.

Amao’s new book, A Solution to a Pointless Life: Spiritual Self-Help for Personal Development., is probably his greatest effort yet. This book is packed with valuable nuggets of information from every relevant source from the New Thought movement to existentialism, Oriental religions, the Judeo-Christian tradition, philosophy, psychology, mythology, and mysticism. Here is a sociologist who has seriously considered the question of the meaning of life and humanity’s eternal quest for finding the purpose in living. His careful analysis of this quest through the ages brings the reader to a comforting conclusion, albeit a challenging one.

Amao laments the way political and religious organizations have left people feeling powerless, while materialism has filled people with illusions and false beliefs. He posits how our inability to find a purpose in life has led to neurosis. He pivots toward celebrating life as a beautiful learning opportunity that allows people to develop their inner potential. To fulfill one’s special purpose in life, he says, is to manifest your inner power. Striving to achieve life goals with determination awakens your innate psychological and spiritual powers.

Our long journey challenges us to learn and grow in consciousness, we are told, and that is the only real thing in the universe. As we return to life source, we add to the expanding universal consciousness that has been called by many names, including spirit, universal soul, life force, Brahman, Elohim, and God.

The point of living, then, is to become aware of this universal consciousness and consciously participate with it in the creation process. Humans are on the planet earth, the author suggests, to develop and raise their level of conscious awareness. The primary purpose of all human existence is to actively participate in awakening universal consciousness.

The depth of this author’s scholarship in sorting through common and diverse threads in philosophies, religions, and science is impressive. He walks us through both European and Latin American existentialism and the American New Thought movement. He analyzes everything from the Gilgamesh epic to The Wizard of Oz. He delves into the Vedas, the Upanishads, and the Bhagavad Gita. He considers the quest in Jainism and Buddhism. He dives into Hebrew and Christian thought and plows through quantum physics, metaphysics, and psychology.

Areas of particular interest to me include the author’s thoughtful contrast of existentialism and the New Thought movement, his analysis of the book of Job, his treatment of the life journey as a pathless land, and the conclusion that expanding consciousness is all there really is or ever will be. Best of all, he sees a big role in this huge universal consciousness for each and every one of us as cocreators.

Von Braschler

Von Braschler is a Life Member of the Theosophical Society, a former member of the publications board of the Theosophical Publishing House, and author of several books on consciousness development.


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